• katerha

I grew up eating pasties, those upper-midwestern delicacies that are (like most things) best consumed with butter and/or ketchup. They were sold occasionally out of the basement of the local Methodist church, where members made them from scratch. (You could buy them in the grocery store, too, if you were willing to settle for a lower quality; my hometown, unlike bigger burgs like nearby Escanaba, didn’t have any regular designated pasty stands.) Pasties, for the uninitiated, comprise a pastry shell wrapped around a filling of beef, potatoes, rutabaga, and onion—sort of like a samosa, only bigger, and baked rather than fried.