"texasstatefair" news and stories

I generally try to eat wisely and well. I avoid greasy foods, turn my back on excessively processed ingredients, constantly rail against high fructose corn syrup, and try to eat all my veggies. Unfortunately, however, just as my day-to-day dietary Dr. Jekyll is upright and intelligent, I also have a culinary Mr. Hyde, who comes out when I find myself confronted with particularly delectable deep fried delicacies. Generally, this isn't much of a problem, as the fried food in my neighborhood mostly consists of unmentionable pig parts and the occasional codfish pancake. Moreover, since I've moved away from Southwest Virginia, I am no longer tempted by the Salem Fair, a horrifying assemblage of rides, petting zoos, and oil-soaked goodies that used to be the highlight of my year.

Recently, however, I came across a website for Big Tex, the Texas State Fair. While I will always maintain a warm spot for the food options at Salem, it is painfully clear that Southwest Virginia's yearly orgy of deep-fried wonders pales in comparison to the pure, unrestrained genius of Texas' chefs. With items like "Chicken Fried Bacon," "Texas Fried Jelly Belly Beans," and "Fried Pop Rocks Fundae," the Lone Star state has staked an unquestionable claim to national fryolator dominance. I was particularly impressed by "Fire and Ice," a battered, deep-fried pinapple ring that is covered in banana-flavored whipped cream that has been dipped in liquid nitrogen.

Liquid nitrogen? These guys are GODS.

Anyway, the fair is over for this year...but I'm looking ahead to next fall. Only 330 days to go!

At least, at the Texas State Fair it is. It's Deep-fried Coke.

Abel Gonzales Jr. flavors his batter with Coca-Cola, deep fries it, drizzles Coke fountain syrup on it, then tops it all off with whipped cream, cinnamon sugar and a cherry. Gonzales's creation won for creativity at the second-annual Big Tex Choice Awards Contest, beating out such delicacies as deep-fried macaroni cheese and deep-fried Cosmos.

Deep-fried Coke may sound weird now, weird enough to get a little Farking, but back in 1942, a cornbread-battered hot dog on a stick might have sounded weird, too. Now we have corn dogs.