No matter how thin you slice it, it’s still baloney.
– Rube Goldberg
I am presently on a road trip to central Ohio to visit family in the Columbus area. This past weekend I made a side trip north to Sandusky, on the southern shore of Lake Erie, to help a dear friend celebrate his 96th birthday. As fate would have it, my journey took me through Waldo, a small town of roughly 300 souls, some 45 minutes north of Columbus on the banks of the Olentangy River. For the uneducated, it is a town one would quickly bypass on Route 23 to Toledo. But not so fast! Slow down and get off the main highway and you are in for a treat for Waldo has for almost six decades been the home of the G&R Tavern, a hole-in-the-wall establishment home to its "World Famous Fried Bologna Sandwich" since 1962. I did just that and I was richly rewarded.
Apparently Ohio is the number one bologna-loving state in the country. The first time I encountered fried baloney was at home games of the Cincinnati Reds which my dad and I attended at the old Crosby Field back in the late 1950s. And there they were again when we moved to the western North Carolina mountains in the early 1960s. Fried bologna has long been a southern treat. They called it skillet cooking, and one had to score the thin slices of bologna so they would not buckle in the pan during cooking.
Growing up later in the American Midwest, thin-sliced baloney (usually from Oscar Mayer which "has a way with bologna") was a dietary staple usually consumed sandwiched between two slices of white bread with a little mayonnaise and/or mustard, and embellished with lettuce, tomato, and perhaps a slice of cheese. All additions and condiments, however, played second fiddle to that slice of baloney. But let us return to the more important topic . . . the fried baloney sandwich. It is something quite different than a slice of baloney between slices of white bread.
The G&R Tavern in Waldo claims it has "fought the good fight of elevating bologna’s humble status into something nobler." I would tend to agree. The bologna logs, a pork and beef blend with garlic-flavored fat, are produced in house and then thick sliced and sizzle fried in a skillet to create a savory crust. All that remains is the addition of raw onion, a slice of melted American cheese and sweet pickle slices between two halves of a hamburger bum. Add a few squirts of mustard and you are set. What more is needed?
A few years ago the Chicago Tribune gave the G&R Tavern and its fried bologna sandwich a very favorable review in its travel section despite acknowledging the general lowly status of the main ingredient. "Rank all the world's meat products in order of prestige, and bologna would occupy the spot between canned sausage and pre-sliced Shop 'N Save ham, which is to say, in the company of the maligned and ridiculed." The tavern was indeed successful in elevating bologna beyond its humble status into something nobler. Its fried bologna sandwich had become legendary – "worth driving from anyplace." Certainly it was a worth the hour drive from Columbus. I was fortunate that my weekend route to Sandusky brought me within spitting distance of the tavern.
The tavern has also been featured online. A guide to regional eats - roadfood.com - generally dissed bologna . . . "a circle of pale pink lunch meat about 1/16-inch thin." Even a fried bologna sandwich "might not be an appetizing concept." That said, if one is adventurous enough to actually order one of these sandwiches at the G & R Tavern, one’s "image of bologna will never again be the same."
There has also been media attention closer to home. Mike Harden of the Columbus Dispatch has referred to bologna as "the Rodney Dangerfield of the deli case." Certainly he had in mind the reputation of that thin round cold cut marketed by Oscar Mayer et al. That said, what one finds between two buns at the G&R Tavern does not fit that mold. We are talking about an inch thick slice of bologna fried hot on the griddle until its is smoking and hinting of its underlying garlic properties.
People do indeed drive great distances to enjoy a fried bologna sandwich in Waldo, so how could I not stop in and sample the local fare when I was in the neighborhood? The G&R Tavern reminds me of so many corner taverns I recall from growing up in the small towns and cities of the America heartland. The ubiquitous bar and stools along one wall and a scattering of table. Walls are decorate with local team trophies from over the years and photographs of Hollywood stars. Although Waldo is situated relatively equidistant from Cincinnati and Cleveland, the local loyalties definitely lean toward the latter. There is a modest choice of liquor and a respectable selection of bottled beers and wines.
Upon entering I claimed a stool at the bar adjacent to a wide window facing the village’s main street. A pleasant bar maid asked if I needed a menu and I declined; I had come for the "World Famous Fried Bologna Sandwich." It is frequently served with a side of deep fried vegetables or thin curly fries, but I settled for just the sandwich; it seemed plenty to satisfy my midday hunger. I ordered a bottle of PBR - a proper selection for such fare - and soaked in the local ambiance until my sandwich arrived.
It was the thickest slice of bologna I have ever encountered, a slice of melted cheese topped with several rings of fresh, raw onion and a few sweet pickle chips. That is all you need save a couple squirts of mustard. I made short order of this very tasty sandwich. Personally I would have preferred dill over sweet pickles, but I am not qoing to quibble. The experience was everything I hoped it would be . . . and more. It was a meal, and as tempting as sumptuous as the homemade pies looked, I was there for the fried baloney.
Someone once said, or so I have heard somewhere, that if you are writing about baloney, don't try to make it something it is not. That is the worst kind of baloney there is. Just make sure it damned good baloney. No problem there. I’m here to tell you that Oscar Mayer is not the only one to have its way with b-o-l-o-g-n-a. G&R Tavern serves up some damned good bologna . . . and well worth the drive.
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