Woody's Wood Fired Pizza and Watering Hole

Woody’s Wood Fired Pizza and Watering Hole

            You know when you have spent the whole day running around and pretty soon your stomach is all, “Let me sing you the song of my people.” A mental list of nourishment of that day comes up with a short list including a pot of coffee, a fiber bar, and 4 month old fortune cookie you found in your car. At this point, you’re so hungry that you can’t even think about wanting to eat and nothing sounds better than pizza and/or ice cream, even if you’re lactose intolerant.

            For this remedy, you go to a buffet. From my experience here in Colorado which is the healthiest state in America, I have found that buffets are taboo and therefore are hard to find. Not to mention they are the mortal enemy to my diet. Being in Golden, CO at that, options are limited. My friend Benjamin and I go to Woody’s Wood Fired Pizza and Watering Hole. Benjamin is a student at the School of Mines. Studying to be an engineer, very bright, sometimes cocky and bit too smart for his own good at times, though what would you expect from an engineer? A child at heart like most people, his favorite ice cream is Cotton Candy with a ton of Gummy Bears.

At any rate, Established in 1993, or 20 years ago if you can believe it was that long ago, this pizzeria is located on Washington Street just past 13^th, in Golden. I remember about 3 years ago when I visited Golden with my parents before I met Benjamin and Woody’s smelled so good, though we went to Coor’s brewery instead.

            Before going to see Jurassic Park in 3D, we make our way to what was described to me as “Ci-Ci’s Pizza, but way better! You want pizza? This is the place to go!”  Stepping up to the single wide glass paned door just off of the patio you come into what can really only be described as a mountain buffet bar. Woody’s was jam packed from people of all walks. Mostly drunken college students but some families and even some business men schmoozing a client or two.

            So packed we had to take one of those restaurant vibrators and wait at the bar. It did come off as a surprise that as soon as our bar stools were pulled out, our indicator went off. Being seated in the back at a booth for two was nice as it was already really loud. Napkins were paisley handkerchiefs rolled around the eating utensils. Our server was a bit rushed it seemed and I could hardly hear him. Ordering a 16 oz. beer for me, I soon realized I did not want the all you could eat pizza and it was the same price for a personal pan of it. Being the semi lazy son of bitch I am, I decided to go with a burger.

            Now, bacon cheese burgers have always had a place in my heart but I came across the most amazing creation in burgers that I have never considered before. I know of bacon BBQ burgers, but a pulled pork burger? Only in Golden have I seen this. BBQ pulled pork, onion rings, beef patty cooked to order on a roll, stacked with shredded lettuce, pickles and more onion. Naturally a side of fries with horseradish to dip them in. Ranch was a great addition as well.

            Paired with a Coors which was brewed just down the street only adds to the authenticity found in this mountain city, I only wish the burger had more BBQ.

            I would say that this was a successful first visit to a restaurant. Stepping out of the restaurant and ogling the pizza, I would say that I’m almost happy I didn’t get any as the crust looked a bit too thick for my tastes. Also, the fortune cookie said to “carve your name on your heart and not in marble.”

Burger and Beer: $14.85

Ramblings from a Michigander

            Michigan draws its name from the Chippewa work “meicigama” meaning great water. Only fitting as it is considered home to the 5 great lakes and in my opinion, is the true land of lakes, not Minnesota. The cliché goes, “home is where the heart is”, and for me, my heart is and always be in Reading, Michigan.

            Reading, Michigan is a town of 1,034 people. The first week of August, we have our festival days. If I had to describe this to someone, I would tell them, walking into the heart of my town is like stepping into stereotypical Small Town, USA in the 1950’s. The grass is green, freshly mowed, and people are outside saying hello as you pass by. The smell of chicken BBQ and baked beans wafts from the fire station. Main street is closed off with Amish and local artist selling their crafts and baked goods. Peddle tractor pulls down silver street and then the parade starts, marching band and all. Two miles outside of town, you can go to hemlock lake and drop the boat in if the heat gets to ya.

            Stop in to Ray’s Tavern and have their cheeseburger, voted number one in the country by USA today. And of course, look south of town to see Barny Barnhearts iconic red barn. On the subject of local venues,  Kelci, or Kelcho as she was known in high school, had  “coop” nights. Coops nights are the best. Imagine if you will, a 30 foot long chicken coop with a loft, hard wood floors, insulated walls, heater, air conditioner, full working bathroom, couches, and a bar.  This was a frequent for many to go murder their livers. I recall one such crime as the night I drank a good amount, forgetting that I had donated blood the day before.

Home towns always seem to hold a special place in people’s hearts and most everyone agrees that their home towns are the best in the world. Of course, this is only a part of my love for Michigan. Growing up here I had the good, the bad, and the ugly. Unfortunately, my home state catches a lot of back draft as Detroit and Flint are the two worst cities in the United States. Only natural as people only go to Detroit for the airport and Michael Moore, or satin himself, came from Flint.

            But I digress, as the good outweighs the bad. To the north, we have Turkyville, USA. Tiny locomotives you can ride around, and one of the largest craft shows in North America; this place is where we end up year after year regardless of the weather. If not for the crafts, you always stop for their turkey, well, everything! Turkey pot pies, turkey soup, turkey salads! To the west you have South Haven and Grand Haven. It’s like a trip to New England, Michigan style! Fresh water fish and wine bars pollute this area. Straight north of there, Petoskey. Think the Vail, CO of Michigan. Very well to do and voted one of the number one cities in the U.S. to visit by the Smithsonian Magazine.

            Perhaps though to keep from rambling, I will just say that my second favorite place to be is the Upper Peninsula in general. Pastys are the state dish. Mackinac Island of course. This place is like stepping into West Egg from Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. Very historical, period ware is common along with the best fudge you will ever have the pleasure to touch your taste buds.  Tahquamenon Falls is also “way up north.”  This set of three separate waterfalls drop around 7,000 gallons of iron rich water a second and are beautiful when they freeze over in the winter. But if nature isn’t a person’s thing, no problem! Let your friends go see the falls while you stay at the Tehquamenon Falls Brewery & Pub. Sit right next to the stills and have one of the best moose burgers around, though I am partial to their cod.

            Coming full circle though, we have to return home. Hillsdale County Fair beats all of my food experiences hands down. Then again, who doesn’t enjoy food that is twice and triple deep fried? Elephant ears, candied almonds, onion rings, Fisk French Fries, lemonade, quick break to ride the “The Zipper”, throw everything up, and go for the pretzels with cheese, polish sausages with extra peppers and onions, and a Coca-Cola this time around, before going and watching the tractor pulls and combine demolition derby. Uncouth and unrefined.

            I can’t say I know how to really end this as it will never end for me. And because this more or less awful combobilation of food and travel rants which is chocked full of grammatical errors and simple English language mistakes seems to be serving for nothing more than a way to express my deep love of Michigan, I will leave it as such. Perfect in its imperfection. Perhaps though, this blog will be transformed into a “Pure Michigan” blog, for the express purpose of provoking thought about food, travel, life, and nature.

Farm to Table: An Economies of Scale

            Being someone who grew up on a cash crop farm in Michigan, I hold a soft spot for the agriculture industry. I remember as a child raising chickens and even my first hog who I named Wilber. Now don’t get me wrong, I find the slow food movement and farm to table fad to be a good thing and can really help a business. But it is just that, a fad and sooner or later, it will have to die off.

            Many restaurants and people cooking at home are looking into the slow food movement and farm to table trend for means of healthier lifestyles and as a way to make a smaller impact on the environment. I will agree it is a tad absurd that for every 1 calorie of food to reach the table, it takes 10 calories of energy. Not to mention, with all of the outbreaks of food borne illness from listeria to salmonella in commercial food production, it only makes sense to go to a more natural way of obtaining food.

            The utilization of going to farmers markets and road side country stands in personal use and partnerships of local farmers in the case of restaurants is being seen more and more. I will agree as someone who sold sweet corn on the side of a road on Sundays growing up that I full heartedly support this kind of behavior. You may be asking yourself though, what point am I getting at. Well here’s the fact of the matter, this trend has grown exponentially. Alice Waters who was one of the pioneers of the slow food movement has been doing this for quite some time. Is the past six years I would say though, it has grown to a pandemic and I use this word, not so lightly.

            To name a few, Fruition here in Denver, and “The French Laundry” owned by Chef Keller in California have their own farms which grow the products they serve in their restaurants. Genius! This is what restaurants need to be doing. On the flip side, you have large companies such as Chipotle which is located throughout the country which utilize the use of local ingredients from “Organic” farmers. Local implying that it can be sourced within 300 miles of the establishment.

            First of all, organic implies many things and has grown into a very loose ended term which can infer a variety of things. Organic can be referring to the growth of animals without the use of steroids, hormones or antibiotics. Grass feed, grain feed and so forth. With produce and grains, it can be all naturally and handpicked, or it was raised with “Organic” pesticides, herbicides, fertilizer and such. You really don’t know what people mean when they say organically raised.

            Second, I think that people need to get the corn cob out of their ass, pun intended. Just because someone eats local, fresh and organic does not make them better than any other person. It’s just simply a way of life and while I am understanding of it, I don’t need judgment passed down to me, my family, or any other farmer, rancher, or food producer who are just trying to make a living off of the land which is something people seem to forget. The earth is in short supply with over 7 billion mouths to feed. Without the use of GMO’s and modern farming techniques, world hunger would tenfold. To me, what people need to do is yes, buy local or better yet, grow their own damn food. Restaurants should follow suit. When companies such as Chipotle start sourcing all of their ingredients in such a manor, it will create an economies of scale resulting in these “small” time farmers to produce such mass quantities in the near future that they will be unable to keep up with demand and inevitably start using more modern techniques such as the use of herbicides and pesticides.

            I remember when Wilber was slaughtered when I was 5 years old. And needless to say he was delicious. This fad will die out eventually. While it will not necessarily be “delicious”, I think it will be a final wake up call for people. Personally, I look forward to this day because maybe, just maybe, people will stop bashing the ag industry and the people who work so hard to feed so many people.