“Ice cold pop! ice cold water!”
“Do you want something to drink?” I turned to my girlfriend, Karianne.
“Are we going to get food?”
“Yea, want to go up after this inning?”
“Ok, I’ll wait to get a drink up there then.”
Two outs later we climbed the stairs to the main concourse. I always do my best to wait until a stop in action to make my way up toward the food even though I know I will still miss something. The concourse has a way of trapping you in its never-ending circle of intriguing smells and menus.
For Karianne, it’s always an easy choice. We headed straight for Little Caesars’ to put more money in Mike Ilitch’s pocket. I still can’t figure out how a Little Caesars’ pizza costs $5.30 on the street and a single slice costs $5.50 inside the ballpark. To be fair, I guess they do sell deep-dish slices inside Comerica so I should be comparing the $5.50 slice to something more like a $6.50 pizza. Either way you spin it, it’s thievery. It’s worth it to Karianne though. The thick square piece of melted cheese and marinara sauce did attract my attention for a brief moment, but I knew I could steal some bites of hers and that would suffice.
Personal pizza box in hand, we continued on to find something to satisfy my hunger. As we walked the sweet smell of roasted almonds drifted into my nostrils. My speed slowed as we passed the white-topped booth distributing the nuts. Every time I’m here I go through an internal battle on whether or not to get bag of the delectable nuts. Their smell is infatuating (someone should make a candle that smells like roasted almonds), but I know they won’t fully satisfy my growling stomach so I carried on just thankful for the free smells.
Stopped in a line few hundred feet down, I could see the game had started up again. No runners on base, my attention turned to the menu next to the monitor. We got in line for pop, but I always have to look just in case something catches my eye. Classic ballpark food: hot dogs, nachos, pretzels, ice cream, fries and pop. “Ooo those look good,” Karianne pointed at a guy walking away from the register carrying a cup of fries. Safe to say, we would be getting an order of those. I contemplated getting a hot dog or two, but I knew I had not seen all of my options yet and decided to wait. I could always come back. The line shrunk in front of us until we finally reached the front. I was happy I passed on the almonds when the woman at the cash register told me my total, “$8.00.” Robbery.
We snacked on the fries as we maneuvered our way along the concourse. I had my head on a swivel scanning for possible food options. A small cart selling a special nacho supreme fascinated me. A person sitting close to us had been enjoying an order in the first inning and they did look delicious. Not perfect though and I was searching for the perfect item. I knew anything I ate would be good, nothing could taste bad at Comerica Park when the Indians were in town.
Leo’s Coney Island was too packed to go in and I can’t figure out why. Who would sit down at a Coney Island at a baseball game? I’m down with stepping up to the concourse to snag some food if it means missing an inning, but sitting down at a restaurant inside a ballpark you paid $50 to get into just seems stupid to me. Sell your ticket, stay home and go to Coney Island with the money you just made.
We stopped to look at thick grilled bratwurst and another cart selling chicken tenders, but I could not settle. Karianne began to get annoyed with me, “Just pick something!” If only it were that easy. Having seen almost everything, I knew I would have to decide soon. I had one more spot in mind to look at though.
I peeked down an aisle way and saw the Tigers were just coming up to bat and had not given up any runs in their defensive half. Happy about that, we slipped into the Big Cat food court. To enter we had to pass by yet another white topped booth exuding the intoxicating smell of roasted almonds. Karianne saw me looking, “Just get some. I’ll pay for it.”
“No no,” I shook my head and continued moving. The circular area off the main concourse had restaurants around the entire perimeter and was highlighted by the large merry-go-round in the center. We strolled around the perimeter, gazing upon the menu options. Elephant ears, cotton candy, frozen lemonade, chicken tenders. I stopped at one counter, staring at the white board menu. Chicago style hot dogs. The pickle spear, sweet relish, peppers and mustard looked divine smothering the hot dog snuggled inside the poppy seed bun. My mind was clouded with uncertainty. Surrounded by so much food, a decision seemed almost impossible.
Finally, I realized what I really wanted. I walked away and got at the end of the Tigers’ Grill line. Karianne rolled her eyes, “Weren’t we already here?” I had passed around thirty Tigers’ Grills and already given one money for fries and pop. “Two hot dogs please,” I said when I made it to the front a short time later.
I grabbed my dogs and made my way toward another much shorter line for condiments. Just relish on one, mustard and relish on the other. It took me 20 minutes to finally settle on something I knew I had wanted the entire time. It’s tough to turn down something you love in favor of something new. Tough for some of us at least, “Can we please go sit down now? I’m dying to eat this pizza.”
Hey Daniel, Could you please email me this? I can't cut and paste it into a Word document. . . . thanks!
ReplyDeleteI really liked how you put a twist on the classic ballpark food story. It was especially great since you paralleled it with your girlfriend's straight-forwardness about the food she wanted. I loved your descriptions, especially about the nuts, yum! You also used dialogue very effectively, good job!
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ReplyDeleteDaniel,
ReplyDeleteFor me, this Memoir was like a trip because you made several stops in different food places all through the concourse. In each stop you describe the foodstuff I can imagine perfectly the nuts, the pizza, the hot dogs, the french fries and the nachos. I think is really creative. As Cassie said, good job introducing interesting dialogues! They contibuted a lot in the story.
Your description remained me a lot of my own experience, hence the fact that it was all the more fun to read for me. I can really picture the whole scene! Good job!
ReplyDeleteDaniel- this narrative is so incredible. It is fluid and makes so much sense at the end, it sets itself up so well for conclusions to be drawn about the overall food picture you are painting. I felt as though I was walking through the game with you, it was really great, and then to fixate on the hotdog at the end really made the value of good old food more tangible. There is not much I think could be improved!
ReplyDeleteOh the Ballpark Frank, how you treat it with such reverence. As it should be! Is there any holier food than that savory snack in between innings? One must precariously balance the flavors in precise amounts--trying desperately not to overflow on sauce from the gunked up stainless (ha) steel dispensers, or battling for the last drop of relish from the miniscule plastic packets?
ReplyDeleteWhew.
Trip right to the heart, straight from the gut.
Daniel, this whole experience played out like a journey to me. I though that you did a good job portraying a situation when you are uncertain what food will satiate your hunger. I also really liked your comment about Leo's Coney Island; it's so true!
ReplyDeleteAs an avid Tigers fan who's been going to games since they were at Tiger Stadium, I absolutely loved this piece. The choices at ballparks these days are insane, as are the prices. I loved the way you maintained the delicate balance of describing the search through the different concourses to try to find the perfect food while always keeping an eye on the score.
ReplyDeleteI'm always afraid of missing the action, so I tend to stick the same gameplan every time I'm at Comerica: two bags of peanuts from the Methodist church across the street before the game and the $5 hot dog, chips and a drink special. I absolutely loved this piece.
You used some really great sensory images in this piece. The sounds of the game playing in the background, the smells of the food all around (I totally want a roasted almond scented candle now) and the taste of the hot dog and fries were all easy to imagine. It almost felt like being there. You also used humor quite well--I enjoyed the bit about Leo’s coney island. The dialogue, however, felt a little bit stilted and awkward to me. It seemed like generic, placeholder dialogue, meant to represent things you know you both said, but can’t quite remember how you said them. If I was you, I might consider cutting out some of the dialogue and using narration to fill the wholes instead.
ReplyDeleteThis piece was such an enjoyable read. I loved your stream of consciousness throughout the piece and how undeterred you were on your journey to find the perfect ballpark snack. You descriptions of the atmosphere and the food are incredibly real and transportive. I liked that you chose a narrative that put us directly in that moment, time, and place rather than attempting to introduce it in any way or force meaning from it. This piece flowed very naturally and your voice was clear and authentic. This is a true gem of a memoir and a wonderful read.
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