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April 20, 2016 The View From Behind The BackstopGoin' HAMMinor League ballpark food has taken a turn in the last few years that would make Mike Veeck blush. It’s almost beyond parody now (sorry, Grant). What started with a humble cheeseburger with a Krispy Kreme donut for a bun, now openly indulges in the purely vulgar. It has even begun to wheedle its way into big-league parks as well. How did they get even the most hungover, nicotine-withdrawn Chef to sign off on Monster-Energy-infused barbecue sauce?
Now the gray-haired purists among you, the type who sign their letters to the editor with “P.S. I am not a crackpot,” will say that in the good old days of Shea and Veterans and Memorial and Candlestick and the first Comiskey, you only needed to smuggle in a ham and cheese sandwich and maybe a thermos of Yoo-hoo[1] to get you through the game. But until the pace of play initiative makes a bigger dent in game times, we shouldn’t begrudge fans wanting a few nice meal options for the three-plus hours they are out.
And teams have responded for the most part by expanding their selections past the usual burger, dog, and Dippin’ Dots. Big foodie names seek out stadium stalls. You can still find a Nathan’s in your favorite New York stadium, but you can also find offerings from David Chang and Pat LaFreida in Queens, Major Food Group and Lobel’s in the Bronx. In Phily, Andrew Zimmern has curated a Korean Fried Pork Belly Sandwich, and of course there is Tony Luke’s and Federal Donuts. Life has never been better for the discerning diner who also wants to take in a baseball game.
So how did I end up eating two pieces of pork roll, fried in funnel cake batter, dusted in powdered sugar, and plated with a side of neon yellow nacho cheeze this weekend?
Let me first tell you there is a unique guilt that comes into play when you saddle up to the funnel cake stand and order “The Jersey Special.[2]”
I am well equipped to deal with a bit of shame along with my food. On my honeymoon my wife and I splurged for one of the great meals of my life, a belt-busting seven-course tasting menu with wine parings at a restaurant that frequently appears on Best of Canada lists. But it ended up costing close to a rent payment after tax and tip.
The best dish from that same meal also contained foie gras. We can debate whether the few remaining purveyors of such in the U.S. are more or less cruel than the hectares of factory farms that comprise large swaths of the heartland, but there is a specific guilt that hits you both when the plate of fatty, unctuous[3] goose liver is placed in front of you, and then again when it is hauled away, empty except for a few stray crumbs of sesame tuile.
I’ve eaten (and enjoyed) fish that is being unsustainably harvested, Chilean sea bass and blue fin tuna come to mind. Some of the best yellowtail sashimi to hit my tastebuds was in Reno of all places, and it was likely hustled from its point of origin with little concern for the resulting carbon footprint. I’ve eaten really good barbecue in very small shacks with extremely questionable taste in décor. I’ve (god knows) drunk too much on occasion.
Then there is the kind of guilt that hits you when you end up eating two pieces of pork roll, fried in funnel cake batter, dusted in powdered sugar, and plated with a side of neon yellow nacho cheeze.
I find minor-league press box food a loving, but utilitarian gesture. Avoid the 10 a.m. clam strips and fried shrimp on camp day, maybe, but it is an even longer day at the park for me than it is for our hypothetical fans above, so it is usually worth partaking. I do like to try the stadium food every once in a while though, if only to see what is on offer at various places. First Energy Field has been a reliably great food stadium year-in and year-out for me. I usually hit the Surf Taco just past the right field foul pole before games. There is a nice view, and it is plus-plus ballpark food.
But the Surf Taco is now gone, replaced by a “Tuscan Grill” that featured such items as a soup and salad combo (salad was a seasonal shrimp and avocado, soup was chili), fried feta sliders with mixed greens and a fruity balsamic vinaigrette and scarpariello-flavored chicken wings. Look, my last name implies that I might enjoy a nice chicken scarpariello, but I can't help but see this as reflective of the greater gentrification affecting Lakewood.[4]
So anyway, I was looking to sample something new, and Twitter has clued me in to the existence of this deep-fried pork product, and the rosters were looking a bit thin, with both Isael Soto and Deivi Grullon hitting the DL shortly before I got into town. The fried pork roll seemed like another easy lead. A foodstuff ripe for a little Pete-Wells-on-Señor-Frog's homage.
So I sauntered up to the Funnel Cake stand on Saturday[5] around the fifth inning. There's no suave way to order a Funnel-Cake-Fried Pork Roll from the teenager in the red Tommy Bahama shirt sotted with blue crabs, but you can do it confidently.
Then you wait.
It doesn't take long for the disks of not-legally ham to float to the top of the deep fryer. They ask you if you want nacho cheeze or chocolate sauce on the side. The picture implies you get both, but okay. I elected for the cheeze. Then I dive in while it is still warm, a BP colleague gleefully capturing the whole thing with his iPhone.
/deletes lede
Oh my god it's really good. You're expecting a textural disaster, some sort of vaguely salt and pork flavored mush. But the batter remains crispy and the pork product is...porky. The combination of powdered sugar and nacho cheeze just works. The savory-sweet dish is almost a cliché at this point, but I couldn't stop eating it. I could eat this every day. Lipitor has no long-term side effects, right?
I showed up Sunday before first pitch to try it with the chocolate sauce. I'd have to check with Russell to find out the stabilization point on fried pork roll, but I was really hungry on Saturday and that can color your viewing. I saddled up again to the stand, only to find out that they were out of pork roll. Really? You couldn't go to Costco and pick up some more? This is not an artisanal product. You can't even legally call it ham.
All right, I will eat the fried feta sliders. Oh, this is going to burn my mouth, isn't it?
There was stuff happening on the field too
[1] Hot Ovaltine for the April night games. [2] This was advertised at the Funnel Cake stand as “Fried Pork Roll” as well. To be a proper Jersey Special you’d think they would call it “Fried Taylor Ham.” But maybe they are just wary of The 1906 Pure Food and Drug Act. Under that, the product does not meet the legal definition of ham. [3] Under the Food Blogging Standards and Berlin-Icthyosaur State Park Preservation Act of 2006, I am required to use unctuous as an adjective when describing foie gras. [4] Okay, now we have stretched this lead so thin that it is translucent, but the eponymous Surf Taco was a great ballpark bite. I do miss it. [5] This was deliberate strategy. You can't risk losing the whole weekend to fried pork, and you don't want it right before the threehour drive home on Sunday afternoon
Jeffrey Paternostro is an author of Baseball Prospectus. Follow @jeffpaternostro
4 comments have been left for this article.
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Needs Instagram worthy photo of said food.
Vignetted and everything.
https://instagram.com/p/BEbLWVVJHz4/