Our first stop was tiny Hamburg, PA, where we traveled on rumors of a festival devoted to an American institution: the hamburger. By looking at the mass of people and booths clustered in the town’s historic center, you would never guess that this namesake of the German city is home to only a couple thousand people. After trying our hand at the local radio station’s mooing contest (quite unsuccessfully), we wandered up and down the charming streets, perusing the local goods for sale and encountering such celebrities as the Dairy Ambassadors and the baton twirling troupe.
Of course, a main event of the festival was the ongoing competition for best hamburger, so in order to fulfill our civic duty, my wife Mandy and I split up to double our experience. While I waited patiently in line at a local church’s tent for my chance to order “the Garlicky Dutchman,” a hand-shaped burger topped with mushrooms and honey mustard, Mandy returned with an A-1 Peppercorn Burger from another nearby booth. We sat down with a side of freshly cooked sweet potato chips and a birch beer, feasted, and discussed burger quality with some other festival-goers from out of town. We didn’t stay for the voting results, but I would not be at all surprised if the Garlicky Dutchman came out on top.
That evening we ventured up into Pennsylvania’s coal country to settle down for the night. As we headed toward the small town of Pottsville, gently rolling slopes gave way to steeper and more striking hills covered in autumn leaves that left only narrow channels for us to pass through. We were welcomed to our destination by a giant wooden hilltop sign, and made our way to The Partridge House bed and breakfast. The stately gothic revival home housing the inn peers down from an incline onto the street below, where we left our car and climbed the winding stairs to the door. Any impression of austerity, however, was quickly dispelled by our welcoming hosts who showed us our room and pointed us in the direction of Maroons. This sports bar pays tribute to a professional football team of that name that hailed from Pottsville in the early 20th century and, if what we were told is correct, was once robbed of a national title. A wonderful meal was topped off with the Championship Delight, warm funnel-cake fries and ice cream with syrup, which we carried back to the inn to enjoy on a lovely fall night.
From festivals to football, these historic Pennsylvania towns gave us great glimpses into classic Americana, and we have the waistlines to prove it.
