Donnetta Raleigh, owner and manager of Brown’s Lunch Counter, had ordered 10 cases of oyster crackers for the week, believing that would be enough, which it turned out barely to be.
This was in preparation for our premier, perennial culinary event in Warhaven, Brown’s annual Chowder Chow Down. As has been tradition for close to 100 years, the kitchen would prepare five different chowders; lunch and dinner customers would sample all, then vote for favorites in a system of casting ballots for win, place, and show chowders, much like horse race betting. A trophy, first awarded in 1936, indicates the year’s winner on its brass plaque. An adjacent poster documents results of all contests over the years. The trophy stands two feet tall, loving cup style, except it’s really a loving bowl of silver plate on a round pedestal of pewter atop a cherry wood base. Nowadays, Donnetta keeps a loaded derringer in the bowl, a Remington 95, pearl handled.
This year the five choices included long time favorites New England clam, Manhattan clam, and maize corn. Rounding out the bill of fare were the Rushing River steelhead chowder and the West Hills lamb and barley chowder.
Perhaps it was this one week which prompted waitress Beatrice Dombledock to buy new walking shoes, for she surely wore down tread during the early spring running of the Chowder Chow Down! Brown’s served five small cups of the contenders as a sampler from which to select your bowl of choice with its mound of oyster crackers as a side. The sampler was crucial because we in Warhaven like to cast ourselves as informed voters.
As the reader enters Brown’s many familiar faces offer warm greetings. There is some bantering, some advice on the superior chowder, some mild trash talk about some bland soup, always a runner-up.
At the back booth Orin Holman, George Ansbach, and Pete and Sheila Petrovich. Across from them are Gwen Stokes, Verna Smith and Ike Moseseek.
At one table for four are the four adult Hershbergers: John and Louisa, Jacob and Willa. At another are Gene O. Casino, Card Dawson and Clovis Truitt and his girlfriend Mary Standel. In one of the tables for two are the Lyon twins, Lucy and Lucien. In another is Stanley Humpley and his famous granddaughter, Heather, rhythm guitarist for Maven and the Night Ravens.
Orin leans into George. “Now, I’ve never wagered on this business, but I bet you a lot of money changes hands in gambling on this contest.”
George smirks. “Are you saying you’re betting me a lot of money or just that money rides on the Chow Down outcome?”
“Oh,” exclaims Orin. “The latter, of course.”
“Good,” says George. “Because if it were the former, I’d take you to the cleaners because you don’t know a good chowder from a mediocre can of watery soup.”
Orin smiles. “Fine.” And the two shake hands with Pete and Sheila acting as witnesses.
Well, it was only Saturday and the contest would run through Friday night’s dinner.
George’s vote was steelhead to win, lamb and barley to place, and Manhattan to show.
Orin played it differently, lamb and barley to win, New England to place, and steelhead to show. Orin’s logic was not based on superstitions or geographic loyalty, although he was a West Hills farmer! No, his decisions were purely culinary. The lamb was chock full of lemon zest and this gave an aroma he could feel in his sinuses. The New England was selected because of its bacon, thick crisp chunks of bacon. The steelhead received his vote, in the final analysis, for the dollop of garlic butter floating on top, tasty, and a kind of sun and corona as it slowly diffused into the chowder. “Now that’s presentation!” he silently praises.
Well, this writer is sad to report that both these local men were nearly skunked when the final results came in. In third place was the lamb and barley recipe, bettered by the second place winner, the Manhattan clam. Winning this year’s contest was the maize corn chowder, which left the two former city councilors scratching their heads. Neither of them especially loved highly spiced food, so their taste buds turned tail at the creatively concocted corn chowder, which was catapulted to victory with a rich, robust blending of cinnamon, cardamom, nutmeg, cloves, and ginger.
While both George and Orin were glum about the outcome, they remained philosophical. Orin put his arm around George’s shoulder, “Well, my friend, there’s no accounting for taste!”
“Orin, you have spoken the truth that racks our tranquility!”
About ‘The City Council’
The City Council is a work of fiction that sprang from observing contentious politicians. This narrative serial was initially conceived as a radio project back in 2006. That year it began to be published in print in the White Salmon Enterprise. It now appears every two weeks in the Columbia Gorge News.
This creative writing is set in the imaginary western town of Warhaven, which lies at the confluence of the Rushing and Big rivers. The town was settled in 1867 by veterans of the Battle of Gettysburg, who sought to leave the carnage and duplicity of the East for a more harmonious society in the West. In Warhaven, city government works efficiently with altruism for the commonweal of the community, which is the work’s overriding theme.
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