utah – Marianne Hales

A Tale of Two Fry Sauces (Well, Three)

I have a bit of a backlog of fry sauce experiences (which makes me concerned for my dietary choices) so I decided to focus on two for this post because they were diametrically opposed. Both were restaurants I had eaten at pre-pandemic and both are locally owned (not a chain).

I had high hopes for Station 22 because I have had great experiences eating there. It has a fantastic energy and unique touches like a wall of specialty sodas. It has a wide array of sauces and was nominated for the fry sauce in particular, but it’s a long, narrow restaurant with little room for spacing out tables so we did the takeout option, which was not an option when I last ate at the restaurant.

Somehow on a Thursday night they were slammed. Understaffed, they didn’t even have time to attend to the folks who walked in, hoping to be seated (or pick up their takeout!). When one guy said he had been waiting for five minutes without anyone acknowledging him, I walked back to the server station to get an update. I felt bad pressuring them when they were so obviously distressed, but I had already paid for my food online an hour prior and we were starved.

We did eventually get sustenance (in about double the promised wait time) with unfortunate substitutions for the pie we ordered and missing biscuits, but the whole thing was a Curbside Cautionary Tale. Even the best dining experience, though, couldn’t have saved that fry sauce.

It was sauce. We put it on our fries. It wasn’t fry sauce. It was more of a honey mustard dressing mixed with a dab of ketchup. I had the fleeting thought that maybe they had made another unfortunate substitution, but I had double checked at the restaurant that this was what they were marketing as fry sauce.

It made me realize that the essence of fry sauce is the mayo. This is a mayo-based sauce and the best sauces highlight that, celebrate that. Station 22’s sauce ran away from its mayo roots and in doing so lost what make it distinctive.

Compare this to Taco Amigo’s extremely light pink sauce. It’s somehow more bland than TopGolf’s fry sauce but it’s also 100% better. This is because it leans in to the mayo. It knows it’s a mayo sauce. I had always thought it was a matter of getting the tang just right (and that can be a factor in fry sauce efficacy) but embracing the bland can be just as powerful. Utah, home of the fry sauce, is much the same way. Don’t discount the bland. The bland is the whole point. Love your pasty white condiments. There is beauty all around–even in the mayonnaise and the white picket fences.

But Taco Amigo isn’t actually the second restaurant in this Tale of Two Fry Sauces (it was a side epiphany in the avalanche of deep friend potato experiences I’ve been having of late). The second restaurant was Seven Brothers in Riverwoods.

I had eaten there once a few years ago and hadn’t fallen in love. I had ordered a burger built for a much larger mouth than I had. I hadn’t ordered fries. I hadn’t gotten fry sauce. So when I had an hour to kill in North Provo at lunchtime I decided to try again. I had lunch in the very socially distant dining area (it was a pretty slow day) at this locally owned burger joint. This time I knew to not let my order exceed my jaw capacity and I had a lovely conversation with my server about their saucing.

They make it fresh every day and go through 3 five-gallon buckets of it on weekdays (four or more on weekend days). It was just mustard, mayo, and ketchup with a chive garnish (unknown ratios). I was not a fan of their distinctive fries, which seemed like the love child of potato chips and potato wedges (forbidden love that is forbidden for a reason) but the sauce…hands down the best of the restaurant sauces. It was perfection. The whole plate was very pretty (the potato love child was nothing if not pretty) and the sauce had just the right amount of tang in just the right amount of bland.

What I am realizing with these local fry sauce adventures is that if a restaurant serves you pre-packaged fry sauce you should brace yourself for mediocrity (I’m looking at you: Chick-Fil-A, Culver’s, Arctic Circle etc). Fry sauce was meant to be mixed fresh. It is the ultimate “mix to taste” item and when it is standardized, it ceases to be fry sauce.

On the Road, Uncategorized

Will Drive For Food

I can’t remember when we started the Bakery Quest. It wasn’t conceived as a road trip; it was a lifestyle. The pure Bakery Quest is this: we want to visit all of the bakeries in the world. To that end, when we see a bakery we haven’t been to the appropriate action is to immediately pull over. We order all things that look good and divide them between all members of the party. Vocal judgements are made and the wisdom of returning or not returning is established.

We have found some incredible bakeries this way, most notably when driving on a small highway in rural Utah after a weekend of hiking. We happened upon it in one of the few months it is open (during the high season of Zion National Park) and we haven’t found it open on any of our subsequent visits. That’s why you strike while the iron is hot: who knows when you’ll cross paths with this bakery again?

So when I started reading William Least-Heat Moon’s Blue Highways and felt the tug of the road, I immediately thought of food. There is a joy in finding obscure food that you love or that other people love. It creates an instant connection. And after a year of being mostly homebound we are itching to get back on the road. Because of the pandemic I didn’t want to stay overnight anywhere that wasn’t in my bubble so I limited myself to day trips and uniquely Utah foods (of which there are many). When a crowdsourcing post on Facebook got 47 replies in 10 minutes I knew I had hit a vein. So what food do Utahns feel strongly about? Fry sauce.

Until I moved to Utah, fry sauce was my own private concoction. I assume that at some point my parents (both native Utahns) taught me how to make it, but it feels like I have just always known that ketchup is a runner-up for fry accompaniment. If you have access to mayo and mustard you can turn that ketchup into a plate-puddle of the good stuff. It wasn’t until my freshman year at BYU that I ever had commercially prepared fry sauce. It felt like people were trying to shrink wrap my grandmother’s applesauce cookies.

Because of that, I’ve been more of a passive Utah fry sauce consumer. I don’t seek it out specifically, or, rather, I didn’t until now. Now I want to try them all. It won’t be the same as a carefully proportioned salmon colored blob with white and yellow at the edges on a melmac plate, but few things are.

I want to try all of the fry sauce within a day’s drive of the Provo area and I will evaluate them here as I go along. I have made the fry sauce survey form available on the cloud for downloading/printing here. Please fill it out and send it to me (email at the bottom of the form) if you, too, want to be mindful about your condiments (because I probably can’t hit all of the places personally and because your perspective is also valid). I’m also up for trying your personal recipes so send those along too (no house calls unless I know you personally and Covid precautions are in place).

The first place we went to is Arctic Circle. I know. Talk about fast food commercialism. But Arctic Circle lays claim to the title of First Fry Sauce in the U.S. Well, technically, they call themselves “America’s First Fry Sauce” but what they mean is the United States. The ketchup/mayo combination purportedly originated in Argentina in the mid-1920’s at a golf club and is know as “salsa golf.” Don Carlos Edwards, the founder of Arctic Circle, started marketing it here in Utah in the 1940’s (with no knowledge of golf sauce). This is the earliest documented evidence of the sauce in Utah so I had to start there.

I was unimpressed. It was perfectly ok, but not something to bring a person to Arctic Circle above all else and really just one click above ordinary ketchup. We finished the cup just because it was there and we had fries. I sure hope Utah, Idaho, and select portions of Arizona have more to offer. Also, I learned upon hitting up our first fry sauce joint that my youngest kid hates fry sauce, a fact that had never previously been voiced. She prefers the Bakery Quest. Of course. Everyone does. That’s why the Bakery Quest a lifestyle and fry sauce is a fleeting obsession.

Any bets on how long before we can turn her into a fry sauce connoisseur? Tune in for more in the next installment of On the Road to Fry Sauce.

Everyday Sexism, Uncategorized

I am Definitely Not Sexist (or Racist or Homophobic)

“Give me some credit,” he said to me, at least three times, after he told me several stories meant to establish his cred as Definitely Not Sexist. An older man, he has been quite open about his vote for the current President so he’s a little touchy about such things in the politically and socially liberal community of writers we are both a part of. “Don’t worry,” he seemed to say, “I’m not a product of my generation.”

I knew as soon as I read Nora Ephron’s 1996 Wellesley graduation speech at the open mic we both frequent that this conversation would be coming. It’s what happens when you engage otherwise thoughtful men about gender issues. International Women’s Day was that week as well so I actually had several conversations in that vein. The one that stuck out to me occurred when a 20-something woman wondered on social media about why there was an International Women’s Day. What about men? Aren’t they also great? Wasn’t this oppressive to them? (Quick answer to that last question: NO).

Several women answered, reflexively, that every day is men’s day (one supplied the actual date of International Men’s Day) and a 20-something man took exception to that. “Give me some credit,” he seemed to say. “I am Definitely Not Sexist.” And because he was Definitely Not Sexist, he didn’t seem to see how he shut down the conversation with the patronizing comment “I love you too much to argue with you” or how inflammatory it was to assert that not only were women as privileged as men, some women were more privileged than men.

Another woman pointed out that this 20-something guy was a good guy and meant well (and didn’t he have a point about how men and women should be treated equally?). The problem with this response, though, is that his status as a good guy who meant well was not being challenged (neither was our shared understanding of the value of equality). There is a feeling that if you are ever uninformed, misinformed, or insensitive that you are Definitely Sexist (irredeemably so). It’s that crazy logic that leads people to scramble to establish themselves as Definitely Not Sexist. People (and issues) are not so very tidy, though. I know this because I am Definitely Not Racist and Definitely Not Homophobic.

I’m not always aware of my privilege as a white, middle class, straight, cisgender woman and sometimes (ok, pretty much all the time) when someone points out some of these things I get defensive (even if I don’t always voice it). I am, generally speaking, a thoughtful person. I’m empathetic and fair. I work for equality. Anyone who knows me could affirm that. Except my ex-husband. Don’t ask him. So why do I get defensive? Because for most people in the universe I am one dimensional. I am “poetry lady” or that funny post or the church organist or the person who never ever ever volunteers to be Room Mom.

There are people out there who know me (and judge me) based on one experience or type of experience. That’s what our technological bonanza has done—our field has broadened but we don’t have the time/energy/brain power to know everyone we come into contact with as a multi-dimensional, nuanced human being. So a sexist action becomes a sexist person and the response invariably is “Hey wait! I am Definitely Not Sexist!” That response just shuts down the conversation, though.

We have to create spaces where we understand and love each other, where the basic understanding is that we are not sexist/racist/homophobic but that we do need to understand each other better and improve our behavior and language. This is a two-sided initiative. We need to stop jumping right to Definitely Not Sexist mode and thus miss out on valuable information. And we also need to stop talking about our issues and people who disagree with us in one dimensional ways. I will admit that “every day is men’s day” was probably not the most helpful retort if my goal was to have a multi-dimensional discussion that actually makes a difference in the struggle for equality. I will also admit that that was not my goal at the time. It’s incredible that, over 20 years later, Nora Ephron’s speech about not being complacent about women’s issues is still timely. Twenty years after I was a 20-something who needed to hear that message there are 20-somethings who mistake their privileged position as universal, who feel that because our struggle looks a little different from our mothers’ struggle that it isn’t a struggle at all.

I didn’t have to quit my job when I became pregnant but I did have a job offer rescinded once when a man applied (because he had a family to provide for, of course, and I was just a single woman). Sound like something out of 1959? That was 1999. And though it’s more likely they wouldn’t say it outright in 2017, don’t you doubt that this sort of thing goes on today (here in Utah for sure). The truth is, dear 20-somethings, that there is still no gender parity in pay, productions, and publications. And, even more basic than that, when men come up against a romantic encounter gone wrong they fear for their egos but women fear for their lives. Looking at a world filled with facts like that and still thinking that women’s issues are fixed because you are more enlightened than your father is like pretending it isn’t raining because you are standing under an umbrella.

But back to International Women’s Day, which has been around since 1911. How come it gets more ink than International Men’s Day, which was created in 1999 (presumably by people who are Definitely Not Sexist)? When you are culturally dominant you don’t need extra effort to bring attention to your issues. It’s redundant. Last year the Springville Library had a bingo card style reading program to encourage people to branch out and try books they might otherwise overlook. There were squares labeled “read a sci-fi novel” or “read a book by a local author” and then, because they’re Definitely Not Sexist, there was a square labeled “read a book by a man.” Since you can’t spit in any direction in a library without hitting a book by a man, this gets nobody out of their comfort zone. This diversifies nothing. Maybe put that one in the center square, ok? That’s why International Men’s Day isn’t so terribly different from every other day and why International Women’s Day doesn’t oppress men. If all things were equal then we wouldn’t need to be reminded of all the ways things aren’t equal. And I have tons of man-loving cred, folks, so you can believe me on this one. I am Definitely Not Sexist.

**This was originally published in the Southern Utah Independent on March 25, 2017: I am Definitely Not Sexist (or Racist or Homophobic)

Everyday Sexism, Uncategorized

Mansplaining the Temple at BYU’s Education Week

When my sister and I attended Brigham Young University’s Education Week this year, we weren’t expecting mansplaining and sexism to be part of the discussion. This is our third year, so we are still relative newbies. We didn’t realize that a class in 3220 WSC is a class with two overflow rooms (aka popular), so we ended up snaking through three different classrooms’ worth of line and landing in the large “audio only” overflow (overflow No. 2). The class, a thoughtful discussion of the temple, was still well worth the effort, so the next day we came two classes before the targeted class so we could be in the actual room with the speaker and slides. You have high expectations when you put in that much effort, but again, it was well worth it.

The speaker, Alonzo Gaskill, was a prime example of why you go to Education Week: He was thoughtful, faithful, incredibly well-read, and insightful. He was also wrong. Not capital W wrong. Not picket-the-Wilkinson-Center wrong. More of a “thanks for playing” kind of wrong.

byu_ernest_l-_wilkinson_student_center_building — BYU’s Wilkinson Center

He opened with an article he had read that quoted Mormon women about their misgivings about LDS temple services. I can’t remember if they were quoted anonymously, but in any case it was an article, not a kitchen-table discussion, and he couldn’t really directly address these specific women. After expressing regret that this was the case, he laid out an interpretation of the historical and doctrinal underpinnings of modern temple worship that he felt addressed their concerns. I have to award very genuine kudos for that. Too often, concerns like this are dismissed with the assumption that such expression is evidence of a lack of faith or of impending (or current) religious inactivity. Engaging in thoughtful dialogue is exactly what we need for these and other issues.

I’m simplifying this tremendously, but the basic idea that Brother Gaskill conveyed is that temple worship falls in line with the common metaphor that the church is the bride of Christ (see Ephesians 5:25, Revelation 21:2, and Matthew 25 for starters). In the endowment, according to Gaskill, women represent the church and men represent Christ. Because of this, all references to the subservience of women are really metaphors for all humanity’s (women’s and men’s) subservience to God. He also noted that having women veil their faces is symbolic of humanity’s need to rely on God (as well as further visual for the bride of Christ metaphor). He went into much more detail in the hour-long class (and has several books on the subject: “The Truth About Eden: Understanding the Fall and our Temple Experience,” “Temple Reflections: Insights into the House of the Lord,” and “Sacred Symbols: Finding Meaning in Rites, Rituals, and Ordinances”). It was fascinating. But his oft-repeated refrain bugged me: “The archetype erases all of the sexism.”

I appreciated his perspective. I was glad that he didn’t attend the temple and think “you are less than me” when looking across the room at his veiled sisters. His research and thoughtful consideration enriched my own temple worship. But erase all of the sexism? That it did not do.

First, it was a bit arrogant to presume that the way you’ve worked out an issue for yourself 100 percent addresses someone else’s concerns. In fact, it sounds a lot like mansplaining. I know he meant well, but please, Brother Gaskill, don’t mansplain the temple for me. Even just a little bit. Put forth your theories, sure. Continue the discussion. But don’t close the case without input from the people who raised the concerns in the first place. It reminds me of when I have a student turn in a paper with a note that their mentor/tutor has already told them that the paper was passing. Well, gosh, then I guess my opinion on the paper doesn’t really matter. I’m just the one in charge of actually evaluating it. The heart of mansplaining is setting yourself up as the expert on someone else’s thoughts and feelings. Any man, no matter how well researched, is not going to be the be-all-end-all expert on how a woman feels about the temple (which is not to say that a man isn’t welcome in the discussion).

It’s really a matter of how it is framed. Maybe instead of “The archetype erases all of the sexism,” you say “The archetype really helps me to overcome questions of sexism in temple imagery.” Second, even if you embrace the “bride of Christ” archetype, it doesn’t take a big leap to understand why people might find it sexist that men are always the ones in the god role in the endowment. Yes, Brother Gaskill pointed out that women take on that archetypal role in the initiatory ordinance, but while men take on the god role for men and women, women only take on that role for other women. That’s a bit of sexism the archetype doesn’t address.

Let me be clear: I am not in any way protesting the temple ceremonies. But I take exception to the idea that it would be illogical and inappropriate to raise issues of sexism in relation to temple worship. I was endowed nearly 22 years ago. I’ve been to the temple as a single person, a married person, and a divorced person. I was an ordinance worker, briefly, before my oldest child was born. I feel strong and empowered in the temple. As a temple worker, I thrilled in being authorized to perform ordinances with the power of God. As a temple patron, I draw strength from the peace found in the temple and from specific blessings received there. I feel like the universe opens up with my potential in these walls. But I also know that wording and presentation have impact. And I know that even with the best intentions, we can get things wrong.

provo_utah_temple_1 — The Provo, Utah LDS Temple; Photo:Ricardo630/CC BY-SA 2.5

Recently, I pointed out to a friend what I perceived to be sexist phrasing on a restaurant menu (and, to answer the inevitable question, yes, the discussion will someday be part of a piece for The Independent). Her response was “I’m sure they didn’t mean it that way.” Ever hopeful for humanity, I’m sure they didn’t consciously demean women on their menu, either. At some point, though, intent loses relevance. The reason we point out problematic phrasing regardless of intent is because we’re trying to root out cultural practices that are not in line with intent. Talking about the temple is different than talking about menus, because menus don’t include an element of revelation, but I don’t think it’s out of line to point out that whatever the metaphor, the optics leave something to be desired. So let’s keep chatting about that. But let’s also make sure that all voices in this discussion feel heard and respected. No more mansplaining, please.

[This essay appeared originally in The Independent on October 8, 2016: Mansplaining the Temple at BYU’s Education Week: Examining Charges of Sexism ]

Update: I emailed Bro. Gaskill this essay and he responded with one sentence–“You obviously didn’t listen closely enough.” I rest my case.