Focus on Food

Focus on Food

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“Midsommar” in the Pines

Scandi-style potato salad for summertime festivities

Story and Photograph by Rose Shewey

Midsummer, which marks the longest day and shortest night of the year, is quite possibly the least eventful, most anticlimactic holiday in our neck of the woods. With our proximity to the equator, we gain a modest three hours of daylight in the first part of the year until we hit the summer solstice, and an imperceptible reversal begins. On the bright side, quite literally, our winters are sufficiently sunlit to stave off any form of seasonal depression, so we have that going for ourselves.

Meanwhile, midsummer is nothing short of spectacular in other parts of the world — above the Arctic Circle and the northernmost parts of Scandinavia, Canada and Alaska never lose daylight during this time of the year. In my home pastures of Germany, the sun doesn’t set until almost 10 p.m. during the summer months.

Even though midsummer, or “midsommar,” as it is known throughout northern Europe, has been celebrated in many cultures across the globe, Sweden, Norway and Denmark take the cake when it comes to honoring this day. City dwellers will migrate to the countryside. There will be picnics, bonfires and nights reveling under the open sky; girls will wear flower crowns and dance around the midsommar pole into the wee hours.

At the mention of Sweden, if anything in terms of food comes to mind, it’s usually “Köttbullar” — Swedish meatballs. In part, this is owed to the blue- and yellow-logoed furniture chain that popularized this dish throughout the world. Sweden has many other national delicacies on the menu, though. Especially popular during the summertime is potato salad seasoned with dill pesto. With an abundance of dill, which grows rampantly in northern Europe, and coastal areas supplying fresh fish, it’s a logical step to mince dill into pesto and get creative with it. Dill has a brilliantly fresh, citrusy aroma that pairs incredibly well with seafood — but also makes a stunningly flavorful potato salad.

So, whether you add smoked salmon to this dill pesto potato salad or serve it with boiled eggs as a light lunch or dinner, it has the potential of becoming your new summertime (or year-round) favorite.

Dill Pesto Potato Salad

(Serves 4, as a side dish)

Ingredients

18 ounces cooked new potatoes (skin on)

1 bunch fresh dill

2-3 cloves garlic, peeled

3/4 cup walnuts, almonds or pignolias, chopped

Dash of lemon juice

2 ounces Västerbotten cheese (or Parmesan), grated

80-120 milliliters extra-virgin olive oil

 

Remove tough stems from the dill, discard the stems and add dill to a food processor together with garlic, nuts and lemon juice. Chop roughly, then add cheese and a little bit of olive oil at a time and pulse until you have a thick paste. Add more olive oil for a smoother, sauce-like pesto. In a large bowl, combine potatoes and pesto. Mix until potatoes are well coated and serve right away.   PS

German native Rose Shewey is a food stylist and food photographer. To see more of her work visit her website, suessholz.com.

Laura Faenza + William Oliver

Laura Faenza + William Oliver

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Laura Faenza and William Oliver met through mutual friends, quickly started dating, and two and a half years later, purchased a home together in the Buckhead district of Atlanta, Georgia.

“Little did I know, just a few months after purchasing our first home together, Will had planned to propose in our living room on a Saturday morning in the summer,” Laura says. The bride suspected a proposal was coming but hadn’t expected it to happen at home. “He really did pull off the ultimate surprise,” she says.

Although the couple lives in Atlanta, the bride spent part of her childhood in Pinehurst, where she made many friends and lifelong memories, which now include her wedding day.

With arrangements of white peonies, roses and hydrangeas cascading from the chandeliers, Laura and Will celebrated their new marriage while overlooking the famous No. 2 golf course at the Pinehurst Country Club on May 4, 2024, just a few weeks before the U.S. Open Golf Championship.

“It was almost a homecoming of sorts to one of the places that helped mold me into who I am today,” Laura says. “Will had no arguments on the venue location either, of course, due to his love for golf.”

photographer: Sayer Photography
wedding planner: Pamela Butterworth, Hollyfield Design Inc.
wedding coordinator: Madeline Eckert, Pinehurst Resort
ceremony & reception: 2View Ballroom & Outlook Ballroom, Pinehurst Country Club
dress: Sarah Seven
shoes: Alexandre Birman
hair: Heather Velazco
makeup: Heather Velazco & Ariana Cooper
groomsmen: The Black Tux
flowers: Hollyfield Design Inc.
cake & catering: Pinehurst Resort
invitations & programs: Tiger Lily Invitations

Party Animals

Party Animals

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N.C. Zoo celebrates five decades

By Jim Moriarty

Photographs Courtesy of N.C. Zoo

Feature Photo: Southern White Rhinos (from left to right: Bonnie, Abby and Nandi) and Fringe-Eared Oryx in background

It began with Sonny Jurgensen, Tort and Retort. None of them moved very fast, but all of them played significant roles in the birth of the North Carolina Zoo 50 years ago.

The zoo, built initially on 1,371 acres in Randolph County near Asheboro, is the largest natural habitat zoo in the world. It entertained over a million visitors last year, including nearly 90,000 students who attended free of charge. The formal celebration will be on Aug. 2, the day the interim facility was officially dedicated in 1974. Among the many promotions staged throughout the year will be the recognition, probably sometime in June or July, of the zoo’s 30 millionth guest, who will be showered with a lifetime membership, a Zoofari (an open-air trip through the Watani Grasslands), and every manner of zoological swag known to man.

Left to Right: Giraffe (Turbo), African Elephant (C’sar), Red Wolves (from left to right: Catawba and Pearl), American Alligators (from left to right: Liv and Gatorboy)

The seed money for the zoo came, in part, from a series of four preseason football games that raised money for the feasibility study to determine the location of the zoo. The first of those games was on Aug. 19, 1967. The Washington Redskins (now Commanders, though that’s likely to change) were led by their quarterback, Jurgensen, a Wilmington native, and linebacker Chris Hanburger, who was born at Fort Bragg (now Liberty) and attended the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. The Giants had a Carolina connection of their own: Darrell Dess, a guard/tackle who had attended N.C. State University. The game was played at night, the first such event, at what was then called Carter Stadium in Raleigh. Washington won 31-13 in front of 33,525 who paid six bucks apiece to attend.

Left to Right: Southern White Rhinos (from left to right: Linda and Jojo), Southern White Rhinos (from left to right: Linda and Jojo), Galapagos Tortoise (Retort), Galapagos Tortoise (Retort)

The location that was eventually settled on for the zoo was known as the Purgatory Mountain site, named, according to legend, for the fires from the moonshine stills visible at night. Randolph County donated the land, the state legislature earmarked $2 million for the project, and hiring began.

The interim zoo, today nothing more than a staging and construction area, became home to the first animals, two endangered Galapagos tortoises named Tort and Retort, who were sent to other zoos long ago for propagation, one of the zoo’s foundational purposes. “The interim zoo was chain link, that’s all it was,” says Diane Villa, the zoo’s director of communications and marketing. “But that’s not what we were going for. What sets our zoo apart from other zoos is the original vision for what they wanted it to be. They wanted it to be good for the animals.” Its creation marked a turning point from concrete, fenced facilities to the creation of environments as close to the animal’s natural habitat as possible.

Left to Right: African Elephants (from left to right: C’sar, Batir, Rafiki, Nekhanda and Tonga), African Lion (Mekita), American Bison (Calf), Red River Hog (Patience)

Bill Parker was one of the facility’s earliest zookeepers. A graduate of Pfeiffer University (Pfeiffer College at the time), he began in ’74 and retired six years ago this September. “When I started there were probably fewer than double digits of permanent employees, mostly in administration,” he says. “They started acquiring animals in the late summer and early fall of ’74.” And it was definitely learn as you go.

By the end of the decade he was working in animal care. “I was on the African grasslands, at the time we called it the African Plains,” he says. “We were riding on the back of a truck and we had an antelope, called a nyala, that was breach birth. So we called out the vets and we started doing what we could to help the animal deliver, but it looked like it wasn’t going to survive. So, in the back of the truck, the vet did an emergency C-section and pulled the calf out. The lady I was working with — her name was Nancy Lou Gay Kiessler — who was training me to be a keeper, immediately took the calf out of the vet’s hands, wiped the mucous off its snout, and she put the snout in her mouth and started giving it resuscitation. I thought, ‘Boy, if I’m ever called to do that, I don’t know if I could.’ What it demonstrated to me was the level of care and compassion she had for that group of animals, and that calf survived.”

Left to Right: Ocelot (Inca) Chimpanzee (Obi), Fringe-Eared Oryx, Zebra (Spirit), Grizzly (Ronan)

Part of the zoo’s commitment in helping to restore populations of endangered species involves transporting animals to facilitate breeding recommendations in a program implemented by zoos and aquariums called the Species Survival Plan. These days the animals are shipped FedEx, but Goldston has done it driving down I-85. “My first transport was in ’99. We had a recommendation to move our male gorilla to a zoo in Atlanta. Myself and another keeper, I think we were somewhere in South Carolina, we needed to stop to refuel. It was one of those combo stations where it’s a Wendy’s on one side and a fuel stop on the other. So I’m standing in line waiting to get our food and I’m just reeking with gorilla musk. People are sniffing and turning around. ‘Where’s it coming from? Who is it?’ We just sort of cracked up.”

Left to Right: Elephant (Tonga) & Rhinos (from left to right: Nandi and Bonnie), Red Wolf (Warrior), Western Lowland Gorilla (Hadari), Desert Dome

If the early days had its challenges, over five decades the zoo has grown, gazelle-like, by leaps and bounds. Today it manages 2,805 acres and broke ground on an Asia region in August of ’22 that will feature tigers, Komodo dragons and king cobras, to name a few species, when it opens in two years. There are currently 305 permanent state employees with a staff that expands to roughly 700 during the highest traffic months. The zoo has three full-time vets on staff and a number of vet techs. “They work on everything from Madagascar hissing cockroaches to African elephants and everything in between,” says Villa. The zoo won the 2021 World Association of Zoos and Aquariums sustainability award.

A monitoring and reporting tool called SMART, developed by the North Carolina zoo in collaboration with the Wildlife Conservation Society and several other zoos, is being used in over 80 countries to track animals and combat poaching. “A lot of animals are in trouble. African lions, African elephants, vultures. One of our signature programs here is vulture tracking,” says Villa. “They’re part of the circle of life. African vultures are one of the steepest declining birds in the world. One of our scientists, Dr. Corinne Kendall, is one of the leading vulture experts. If there was one thing that we try to let people know, it’s that just by coming to the zoo, your admission price helps support our conservation efforts. We’re trying to be a leader for our guests.” Man and animal alike.  PS

Out of the Blue

Out of the Blue

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In My Time Capsule

What would Indiana Jones say?

By Deborah Salomon

Old folks are guardians of the past . . . now, especially, when life moves at the speed of Google. I don’t mean important things like electric cars and ticket stubs from a Taylor Swift concert. Rather, everyday stuff that after surviving tag sales emerges valuable. Just read about a first edition Corning casserole with cornflower design bringing $1,000 at auction. Not all icons are tangible, however. Some are behaviors, norms, happenings that unless relegated to the cloud, risk extinction.

When archeologists/social historians sifted through Pompeian ruins they weren’t looking for fine art. Rather a pot, a chair, coins. Just as valuable, however, are ancient clay scrolls containing lists, recipes and correspondence. Yale University’s Sterling Memorial Library keeps a collection.

Clay is more durable than thumb drives. The human brain is a likely repository but with an expiration date. Mine, approaching that date, has lately dredged up stuff from a life lived half “up North,” as New York and New England were once called, the rest in North Carolina.

Surely, if the Smithsonian Institution enshrines a Swanson turkey TV dinner I can have a go at . . .

  • “Y’all want coffee?” Only in the mid-20th century South would a waitress holding a coffee pot descend upon a just-seated table at breakfast, lunch, dinner and in-betweens. I can’t remember if it was free. Probably, since coffee was all one flavor and cost about 25 cents. Folks with “Mr. Coffee Nerves” ordered Sanka or Postum, not “decaf.”
  • Comic strips: Bankers, senators and surgeons read them, sans ridicule. Whether Blondie or the more cerebral Doonesbury, which still runs in The Washington Post, nobody chided followers. Then, on Sunday, New York newspapers put the funnies section on the outside, so readers could pre-empt the bad news with Penny and The Katzenjammer Kids. Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia read the K-Kids on the radio to children during a 1945 newspaper delivery strike. Why else would the Big Apple name an airport after him? Oh, Charlie Brown, we need your wisdom.
  • Cafeterias, another Southern delight pre-fast food drive-thrus, are now fewer, fancier, much more expensive. S&W, K&W, J&S once dominated the state. Some are making a comeback with seniors and lonelyhearts with their still-satisfying experience, especially the mashed potatoes, country-fried steak, biscuits, cornbread and pie. Get on it, Smithsonian.
  • Green Stamps have become collectors’ items: We got them at the supermarket check-out, then pasted them in books to be exchanged for housewares (like that thousand-dollar Corning dish) at Green Stamp redemption stores.
  • What could be more worth remembering than gas at 25 cents a gallon with a complimentary windshield wipe?
  • How I long for Saturday curb markets held in dusty vacant lots, where sun-wizened farmers in overalls sold produce from pickup trucks. The non-organic tomatoes! The corn! The runner beans! These days, too many farmers markets resemble foodie boutiques displaying herbs, baby zucchini, purple lettuce, white eggplant to fill shoppers’ French string shopping bags. Anybody for a grilled goat cheese sandwich?
  • I can no longer reconcile “personal” seedless watermelon, too often pale and flavorless. Mother Nature intended watermelon to be sized for a crowd, with sweet, deep red flesh and slippery black seeds. Nothing tops off a fried chicken picnic better.
  • Cash: Greenbacks. Two bits. Folding money. A fin. Modern shoppers can go weeks, maybe months, without “breaking” a crisp $20. Just swipe a card, read a chip.
  • We pride ourselves on time-saving inventions that make life “easier.” Long live the ones that cure disease, feed the hungry. As for the rest, thanks for the memories.  PS

Deborah Salomon is a contributing writer for PineStraw and The Pilot. She can be reached at debsalomon@nc.rr.com.

The Perfect Shade

The Perfect Shade

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A couple builds their forever home

By Deborah Salomon  

Photographs by John Gessner

For Susan and David Wood, their sun-splashed, white-painted brick home in the East Lake section of the Country Club of North Carolina practically glows. White flowers fill the beds. Two spotless white cars repose in the driveway. Inside the front door, walls blind the eye.

One of the hardest things for Susan was finding the right white for the outside brick and inside walls. The one she chose makes Cool Whip look dingy. “White is easier to clean and doesn’t fade,” she says.

But, in fact, white is merely the backdrop for a whole-house collection of blue chinoiserie porcelain and pottery, from tiny figurines and ginger jar lamps to urns big enough to hold an emperor’s remains. Many pieces belonged to parents, grandparents and family members while others were collected through the years. For an accent color, she settled on lime green, and more recently, a pinkish coral reminiscent of Palm Beach lobster and shrimp, from whence came several of her inspirations.

It’s certainly not your typical retirement cottage. David still runs a business and Susan, a graduate of Converse College with a double major in sociology and psychology, still works four days a week in a law office in Rockingham where she’s been employed for many years.

The yellow brick road leading to the Woods’ white brick residence starts in Wadesboro, where Susan grew up in her grandmother’s house, which she describes as “wonderful, gracious Southern living.” David’s childhood was spent in Rockingham where, after obtaining a business degree at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, he returned to work in his father’s business, a chain of five-and-dime stores. Susan and David were introduced by mutual friends and, after a five-year courtship, married. From the start, their homes have been enriched by family heirlooms.

“It’s the kind of house where anybody can just drop in,” says Susan.

In 2020 Susan’s mother and stepfather moved from Rockingham to Penick Village. Susan and David followed them north. After first scouting in Pinehurst, they decided to build. Susan’s method was to cut and paste photos of houses, details, colors, furnishings to be adapted by builders and interior designers, who appreciated the visuals to flesh out descriptions. The result: personal, striking, gorgeous. And often daring.

The front door, done in panes of beveled glass, opens into an enormous foyer, the kind hardly seen since antebellum plantation house layouts. In its middle is a round glass table on a fanciful base used for overflow dining, since dinner parties can be large, and the dining room, done in lime green-patterned wallpaper, opens conveniently into the foyer. Ten-foot ceilings make rooms feel larger than the actual square footage and provide space for lighting fixtures, some fit for a modern-day Phantom.

The living room introduces bright navy blue accents, repeated throughout the house. An upstairs bedroom elicits gasps for its dark blue wallpaper with circular white figures that suggest movement, while a vibrant green startles guests using the main-floor powder room.

Two glass-and-white gaming tables are positioned on one side of the living room, just inside the veranda with its own fireplace and TV, overlooking the Dogwood Course and pond. “I love playing cards and all kinds of games,” Susan says. Two elephant heads appear as brackets beneath the living room mantel, introducing another icon repeated throughout the house, including a parade of small jade elephants marching across a shelf. The kicker is a glass-topped desk held up by white elephants, a piece tracked down with dogged determination.

A Carolina room, unlike the usual screened porch, is tucked behind the living room, providing space for a mini shrine to David’s alma mater, complete with ram mascot. On the other side of the living room, a TV den has been wallpapered in navy blue grasscloth, dominated by an abstract seascape by Allison McLean.

No surprise: The ground floor master suite features the same colors with a different fanciful wallpaper. His-and-her bathrooms, closets and dressing areas are grouped together, closed off by a door.

The kitchen, a preen-point in most contemporary construction, is notable for its restraint. Moderate in size with a large island, copious storage and combination butler’s pantry and laundry room, its most startling feature is a mirror backsplash over the range.

Susan is obviously a detail person who knows what she wants and how to find it, down to old banister posts shaped like pagodas, which she spotted, had painted white, and fitted onto the posts.

The house took about a year to complete. During construction, the couple rented an apartment in Pinehurst. Now, golf lessons are on their to-do list, along with visits from family.

“We want people to feel at home here, be able to find things easily,” Susan says. To this end, the second floor has several bedrooms, bathrooms, a seating area with coffee-bar/mini-kitchen and a fringed froggy-green love seat sure to spark conversation.

So . . . how do the Woods feel now. David answers in a word: “Happy.”  PS

May Almanac 2024

May Almanac 2024

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May tucks her treasures gently in our hands.

For the young girl in the sunhat: her first ripe strawberry, bright and plump, just warm from the tender, loving sun. Before lifting the fruit to her lips, she studies its tiny seeds — 200 stars studding crimson infinity — and how its leafy top looks like a tiny fairy cap. When the sweetness hits her tongue, her eyes brighten; her lips pucker; her hands open for more.

In the same field, an elderly man is picking his last flat of berries, recalling the scratch-made shortcakes of his childhood. His eyes glisten as the memories rush in; as the sweetness hits his tongue, as his granddaughter reaches for a sun-kissed strawberry.

For the sisters at the park: early ox-eye daisies.

For the dreamers: dandelion puffballs.

Somewhere, a teenage boy slips a dogwood flower behind the left ear of his first love. By the creek, his brother plucks crawdads from the cool, trickling water.

In a neighbor’s garden, peonies and roses perfume the spring-fresh air. Yellow butterflies worship orange poppies. Bare hands worship worm-rich earth.

And what of your own hands?

Might they cradle magnolia blossoms? An empty bird’s nest? A palmful of seeds?

Might they stay open to give and receive?

May tucks her treasures gently in your hands, giggles as you hold them, then playfully resumes her grand unfolding.

The fair maid who, the first of May

Goes to the fields at break of day

And washes in dew from the hawthorn tree

Will ever after handsome be.

— Mother Goose Nursery Rhyme

Mother of Flowers

The magnolias are blooming, their sweet, citrusy fragrance utterly commanding our attention.

Yes, and more, please.

The “Great Mother” of flowers, Southern magnolia (Magnolia grandiflora) blossoms can reach up to 12 inches in diameter. Despite the delicate, ephemeral nature of their creamy white blooms, the tree itself is quite resilient — and ancient. Fossil records suggest that magnolias are among the oldest flowering plants on Earth, blossoming among the dinosaurs 100 million years ago.

An icon of feminine grace, it’s fitting that our Southern magnolia should shine this month — and just in time for Mother’s Day. 

The Birds and the Bees

Named for the Greek goddess Maia (eldest of the Pleiades and goddess of nursing mothers), May is a month of growth and fertility — a month of flowers, birds and bees.

National Wildflower Week is celebrated May 2 – 7 (always the first week of the month). Let’s hear it for spider lilies, spiderwort, wild indigo and crested iris.

On May 4 — National Bird Day — take a quiet moment to honor the winged ones who live alongside us. You don’t have to be an expert to appreciate the richness they add to our ecosystem and soundscape. Your presence is all that’s required.

On that note, World Bee Day is acknowledged on May 20. Consider the essential role these hard-working insects play in the health and abundance of our planet. Honor your local pollinators with the choices that you make. Have a garden? Incorporate native flowers and, for the love of bees, put the toxic sprays away.   PS

Pleasures of Life Dept.

Pleasures of Life Dept.

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All You Knead Is Love

Confessions of a novice baker

By Tom Allen

“Avoid those who don’t like bread and children,” a Swiss proverb says. I’ll second that.

Two years ago, after 10 years in health care and 30 years in local church ministry, I retired. “Whatcha gonna do?” folks asked. Some assumed my wife and I would travel (I thought I’d be underwhelmed by the Grand Canyon — I was wrong), continue writing columns (yep), and most of all, spend time with grandson Ellis, born in April 2022 (you bet).

A chilly, rainy winter marked the first weeks of retirement, perfect for sleeping in. Mid-mornings I poached, scrambled or fried a couple of eggs, Googling various methods to find the perfect recipe. After showering and (sometimes) shaving, I might water houseplants in the sunroom, go for a walk, piddle in the yard, watch Sports Center, or catch up on episodes of Grantchester and The Crown. Afternoons I decluttered the garage and attic, a task I thought would take, maybe, two weeks. Two years later, I’m still decluttering but have mastered the art of selling on Facebook Marketplace.

I came to embrace sleeping late as a gift. But, with wife Beverly still working, other early morning risings became welcomed occasions, silently sipping coffee and watching light pierce our darkened sunroom. And I simplified. After summers of brutal heat and pesky deer, I did away with raised beds, opting to fill our deck with pots of herbs and grape tomatoes, zinnias and cosmos. We emptied and let go of a storage unit and finally joined the legions who ditched cable for streaming. 

I embraced coloring outside the lines, literally, and began dabbling with watercolors. Then, drawing on my years as a hospital laboratory tech, I started to bake bread. My first major in college was medical technology. I loathed the math part but thrived in chemistry and biology labs, mostly because you got to mix this with that and produce something that changed color, fizzed, oozed or lit up.

This baker set his sights high, thinking I would join the sourdough social media craze. That lasted about one week. I loved being a granddad to Ellis, not a jar of starter. I decided to have a go at baking yeast bread. I wanted to get my hands in dough, form it into a squishy clump, watch it double in size, then after a few hours, fill our house with that comforting aroma.

Thanks to the same social media that fueled the sourdough frenzy, I discovered a plethora of no-knead bread recipes, most of them variations of Jim Lahey and Mark Bittman’s 2006 no-knead instructions published in The New York Times. The recipe became one of the most popular the Times ever published, mostly due to its simple ingredients — flour, yeast, salt and water — baked in a screaming hot Dutch oven.

Lahey and Bittman’s recipe takes about 24 hours. Most of that time is spent waiting for fermentation and rising. After several trial runs, I settled on a variation that takes fewer hours and produces a round, rustic-looking loaf, a boule in French, with a crackly crust and airy texture. Along with another online recipe that makes two rectangular loaves of honey wheat bread, the Times variation became a go-to, sometimes twice weekly endeavor — one to keep and one to give. I used to think baking bread (and giving it away) imparted an aura to the baker, similar to folks who run marathons or complete The New York Times Sunday crossword before Monday. I don’t know if that holds true for a novice. I do know handing a freshly baked loaf to a neighbor feels good.

I wouldn’t call bread-making a newfound obsession, like my love of Carolina Hurricanes hockey, but there’s something about making bread that’s also comforting and life-affirming. Maybe because yeast, a living organism, leavens and gives life to plain flour and water. Maybe because mixing dough, especially with your hands, and watching simple ingredients morph from a blob into what the 19th century Congregationalist minister John Bartlett called “the staff of life,” is not only short of magic, but likewise sacred. Biblical images abound, from the unleavened bread of Passover to the Last Supper.

From measuring the dry ingredients to mixing the wet, sticky dough with your hands, I wonder if studies have been done to quantify the release of dopamine, one of those feel-good chemicals our brains dole out when we do something challenging, pleasurable or rewarding. Bread-making surely makes the cut.

James Beard once said, “Good bread is the most fundamentally satisfying of all foods, and good bread with fresh butter, the greatest of feasts.”

I’ll have a slice of that, along with a hug from Ellis.  PS

Tom Allen is a retired minister living in Whispering Pines.

Focus on Food

Focus on Food

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Spill It!

Berry-infused herbal iced tea

Story and Photograph by Rose Shewey

This summer, I plan on adapting the most iconic of all Southern traditions. My goal is to have a jug of iced tea chilling in the fridge at all times, ready to be served to anyone knocking on the door of my screened-in porch, honoring that Southern hospitality I’ve come to appreciate so much.

As someone who is notoriously sensitive to substances of any kind (kombucha on an empty stomach has me buzzed), I had to lay off the caffeine recently which, naturally, disqualifies coffee, but also caffeinated teas. So, black tea is out for me. While everyone’s favorite champagne of teas —  Darjeeling — or any of the other black tea varieties have never been my top choice to begin with, I do enjoy caffeine-free herbal teas with a glowing passion. Not only have herbs helped me heal a number of ailments throughout my life, many herbal teas have the most delightful aroma and are just plain delicious in all their earthy, sweet goodness.

While tea — black, herbal or otherwise — isn’t for everyone, even the staunchest tea opponents (mainly devoted coffee drinkers) will come around to it when tea is served the Southern way: ice cold with a hint (or heaps) of sugar, preferably on a hot summer’s day. If the conditions are right, it doesn’t even matter what variety of tea is served. As long as ice cubes chink and tumblers glisten, bottoms will go up.

Apart from using the best quality leaves available to you, there is one other significant way to elevate your tea-brewing game: collecting water from a pristine source. My mom, to this day, will hike into the woods outside the village where I grew up to bottle the purest mountain spring water that comes spluttering down between moss-covered rocks. In lieu of that, filtered water will do the job. The bottom line is, quality ingredients will make a quality product. Whether you prefer a hot brew, cold brew or whimsical “sun tea,” pour it over ice, add seasonal fruit and enjoy a quintessential part of Southern living.

 

Strawberry Hibiscus Iced Tea

(Makes 2 servings)

Ingredients

1 quart filtered water

5-6 teaspoons dried hibiscus flowers

200 grams (roughly 1 cup) frozen strawberries

Sweetener of choice, such as honey, granulated sugar or maple syrup, to taste

Ice and fresh strawberries, for serving

 

Bring water to a boil. Place dried hibiscus flowers and frozen strawberries in a large jar (bigger than a quart). Remove water from heat and pour over hibiscus and strawberries. Mash strawberries and allow to steep for 6-8 minutes, then strain liquid into a pitcher. Refrigerate and serve over ice with sweetener of choice and fresh strawberries.

For a more intense strawberry flavor, steep the tea without strawberries for 6-8 minutes, strain, then add strawberries, mash and infuse for several hours or overnight, and strain one final time before serving.  PS

German native Rose Shewey is a food stylist and food photographer. To see more of her work visit her website, suessholz.com.

Wild and Wonderful

Wild and Wonderful

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Pinehurst No. 2 prepares to test the best

By Lee Pace

Feature Photo: 2014 U.S. Open Photograph by Joann Dost

A December day in 1935. A man approaches the house at 120 Midland Road in Pinehurst, notices the Scottish-style stonework and arches of Dornoch Cottage, and rings the bell.

Donald Ross opens the door and greets A.W. Tillinghast.

What a meeting of the minds of the early days of golf course architecture.

Ross, 63, the son of a Scottish stonemason, apprentice in his 20s to legendary pro Old Tom Morris at St. Andrews, an immigrant to the United States who set up shop in Pinehurst in 1900 and designed notable courses across the eastern United States — from Seminole Golf Club in Florida to Inverness Club in Ohio to Oak Hill Country Club in upstate New York. His tour de force, Pinehurst No. 2, sits just behind his house.

And Tillinghast, 59, the son of a wealthy rubber goods magnate in Philadelphia, who grew up playing cricket and fell under the spell of golf on a visit to St. Andrews in 1896 where he established a mentor-mentee relationship with Morris. Tillinghast’s design acumen was on display across the land as well — from San Francisco Golf Club on the West Coast to Winged Foot Golf Club and Baltusrol Golf Club in the shadows of the New York City skyscrapers.

Oh, to have been a fly on the wall, to hear these friends and sometime competitors talk about their shared experiences — their formative years at St. Andrews, their design philosophies, the challenges of maintaining businesses and servicing clients when travel was by train and communication by post.

Surely Tillinghast espoused, to some degree, his belief that “a round of golf should present eighteen inspirations, not necessarily eighteen thrills.”

And no doubt Ross would have looked at the 72-hole facility at Pinehurst Country Club and talked about how it had become the epicenter of golf in America. “I wholeheartedly believe in golf,” Ross once said. “A country which gets golf-minded need not worry about the honor, the integrity and the honesty of its people.”

Tillinghast’s visit came at the behest of the PGA of America and his role as a consultant with the organization which in 11 months would conduct its flagship competition, the 1936 PGA Championship, on Pinehurst No. 2. They carried their golf clubs past Ross’ masterful rose garden in the backyard, through the wrought-iron gates and onto the third green.

Ross showed his guest the green complexes that he had just converted, with the help of green superintendent Frank Maples, from their previous flattish sand/clay structure to undulating Bermuda grass, shaping the sandy soil around them into a cacophony of dips and swales. He noted the roll-offs around the greens, how they penalized shots even slightly mishit and propelled balls into the hollows nearby.

Ross led Tillinghast to the fourth tee and explained how he had just added that hole and the fifth to the routing, taking them from a previous employee-only nine holes, and had arrived at the final (and current) configuration after originally unveiling the course in 1907.

They felt the taut turf under their feet, reveling in how the drainage qualities of the sandy loam made for the ideal golf playing surface. As they went, Ross explained the choices golfers had off the tee — on the par-4 second, for example — showing his friend what a lovely view it was into the green from the left side of the fairway but pointed to the gnarly bunker complex a player had to flirt with to get there. Ross nodded to the native wiregrass that grew in profusion along the fairways and how it reminded him of the whins of his native Scotland.

Did the man known in the business as “Tilly” dip into his bag for a flask and a wee snort as he was wont to do? Did Ross grouse that this new and improved No. 2 was better than any new-fangled effort from Bobby Jones and Alister MacKenzie down in the red clay of north Georgia?

All of this, we’ll never know. What we do know is what Tillinghast said after his visit.

“Without any doubt Ross regards this as his greatest achievement, which is saying a great deal,” Tillinghast offered. “Every touch is Donald’s own, and I doubt if a single contour was fashioned unless he stood hard by with a critical eye. As we stood on hole after hole, the great architect proudly called my attention to each subtle feature, certain that my appreciation of his artistry must be greater than that taken in by a less practiced eye. Nothing was lost on me, and after our round together, I told him with all honesty that his course was magnificent, without a single weakness, and one which must rank with the truly great courses in the world today.”

And, 89 years later, the show goes on.

Pinehurst No. 2 would continue to be the site of the North & South Open on the PGA Tour through 1951, with Ben Hogan, Sam Snead, Byron Nelson and Ross himself among the winners. It would host the 1936 PGA (won by Denny Shute) and the 1951 Ryder Cup (won by the Americans, 9 1/2to 2 1/2, over the team from Great Britain and Ireland).

But it wasn’t in the mix to host a U.S. Open.

Through the 1970s that union was simply impossible because Pinehurst shut down for the summer (the founding Tufts family and the staff went to Linville or Roaring Gap in North Carolina or traveled north to Maine), and the American national championship was played always in June.

When the resort went to air-conditioning and a year-round operating calendar, the idea was still problematic because of the USGA’s preference for playing courses with firm and fast greens, a challenging task on Southern courses during hot weather months. The U.S. Open was not played in the muggy Southeast until venturing to Atlanta Athletic Club in 1975, though it had already visited hot spots in Houston, St. Louis, Dallas and Fort Worth.

About the time Jerry Pate was winning in Atlanta, officials at Pinehurst Country Club began floating the idea of an Open for No. 2. The Diamondhead Corporation was five years into its ownership of Pinehurst after purchasing it in 1970 from the Tufts family, whose patriarch, James W. Tufts, launched the town and resort in 1895 as a refuge from the cold winters of New England. The Diamondhead president, Bill Maurer, conceived the World Open on the PGA Tour and the World Golf Hall of Fame in the early 1970s and wanted all the traffic, attention and accolades he could muster for Pinehurst and its No. 2 course.

It took two more decades to figure out how to bring the National Open there.

First, there was the dodgy financial bona fides of the resort and club, which eventually went bankrupt and was taken over by eight banks for two years beginning in March 1982. Robert Dedman Sr. and his Club Corporation of America bought the facility in 1984 and provided what has turned into four decades of stability, innovation and financial security, with Robert Dedman Jr. taking the baton after his father died in 2002.

Second, there was the issue of the playing surfaces.

Pinehurst and other golf courses in the Mid-Atlantic, or so-called “transition zone,” have forever been vexed over the choice for their putting surfaces between Bermuda grass, the de facto choice for Florida and warm weather climes, and bent grass, which thrives in the North. Pinehurst officials experimented with new strains of both over the 1970s and ’80s, walking that tightrope between offering smooth and playable greens for members and resort guests for 12 months of the year, and yet having the ability to get them lightning-quick while not dying in the summer for an elite competition. Pinehurst old-timers still remembered Hale Irwin and Johnny Miller taking dead aim at flagsticks during PGA Tour competitions on No. 2 in the late summer and their approach shots going splat and stopping mere feet from the hole (Hale Irwin shot 62 and Johnny Miller 63 in mid-1970s birdie-fests).

Donald Ross must have raged in his grave.

By the early 1990s, the USGA and Pinehurst officials agreed that advances in grass technology and green foundation construction would allow them to rebuild the greens and have them stand up to the world’s best players on a 90-degree day in June. The USGA announced in June 1993 that it would conduct the 1999 Open at Pinehurst. The competition was a rousing success from the perspective of ticket sales, corporate support, traffic ebb and flow, housing and, certainly, the golf course itself.

Left: Donald Ross. Courtesy Tufts Archives

Middle: The Ninth hole of Pinehurst No. 2 Copyright USGA/Fred Vuich

Right: A.W. Tillinghast. Courtesy USGA Archives

 

“It’s the most draining course I’ve played in a long time,” said European Ryder Cup team member Lee Westwood.

“People sometimes ask what’s the hardest course I’ve ever played,” said two-time U.S. Open champion Lee Janzen. “Now I know.”

The Open has been contested on No. 2 twice more, and the course has played as a par-70 for each championship. The scores validate that what Ross completed in 1935 stands in fine fettle in the next century.

Payne Stewart was 1-under in winning the Open in 1999, Phil Mickelson was even-par, and Vijay Singh and Tiger Woods were 1-over. Michael Campbell won with an even-par total in 2005, with Woods at 2-over. Martin Kaymer has been low man in the three Opens, shooting 9-under in 2014, but his nearest competitors were a mile back, with Ricky Fowler and Eric Compton tied for second at 2-over.

The firm greens, the delicate chipping areas, the flow of the holes and the strategic nuances led Tom Weiskopf to venture in a 1995 conversation that Pinehurst No. 2 is a better year-round test than Augusta National Golf Club.

“Augusta National is good one week a year,” Weiskopf said. “I’ve played Augusta two or three weeks before (The Masters) and it’s a piece of cake — a piece of cake. Pinehurst No. 2 is never a piece of cake.”

The 2024 Open at Pinehurst will be the first played on the Champion Bermuda greens installed after the 2014 Open and the second of the Coore & Crenshaw restoration era. Bill Coore, a native of Davidson County who played No. 2 often during his boyhood summers, and Ben Crenshaw, the two-time Masters champion, coordinated an extensive makeover in 2010-11 that included stripping out hundreds of acres of Bermuda rough, recontouring fairways and bunkers to Ross’ design, and rebuilding the perimeters with firm hardpan sand dotted with wiregrass, pine needles and whatever natural vegetation and debris might accumulate.

“In the early days, this golf course was disheveled and brown, and the ball rolled and rolled and rolled,” Coore says. “That’s what gave it its character. There was width here, the ability to work your ball to get the best angles. Over time, that was lost. It was too green and too organized.”

“Bowling alley fairways,” Crenshaw adds. “Straight and narrow, just like a bowling alley.”

Don Padgett II was the Pinehurst president and chief operating officer from 2004-14 and the man who convinced Dedman that hiring Coore & Crenshaw and taking No. 2 back to its “golden age” from 1935 through the 1960s was the correct move. Padgett is a “golf guy,” in industry parlance, coming to the resort with a background as a PGA Tour player in the early 1970s and a longtime club professional. His father, Don Sr., was director of golf at Pinehurst from 1987-2002.

One March afternoon a decade into his retirement, Padgett is sitting in a rocking chair on the porch overlooking the 18th green of No. 2. It’s sunny and 55 degrees. The tee sheet on No. 2 is full.

“I think this is what the Tufts envisioned,” Padgett says. “If you’re from Boston, this is balmy. My dad used to say if you’re in the golf business, stand here because everyone will come to see you.”

The world of golf is coming to Pinehurst in June, and the game’s top players will find the 18 holes that so impressed A.W. Tillinghast in 1935 and will vex them in 2024.

“I think the golf course today probably presents itself as the best it ever has,” Padgett says. “It’s Ross’ concepts with modern maintenance behind it. I think he would look at this golf course and say, ‘Wow, I wish I’d had the ability to grow grass like this.’ These are his concepts with modern turf. It’s not distorted, it’s enhanced. I think he would bless it.”  PS

Chapel Hill-based writer Lee Pace has authored four books about golf in Pinehurst, including “The Golden Age of Pinehurst — The Rebirth of No. 2.” Write him at leepace7@gmail.com and follow him @LeePaceTweet.