Pretzel #2–Blobs and Beers

October 2, 2026October 2, 2026 steveboilardLeave a comment

Bistro on Bridge (Phoenixville, PA)

I write this from an altitude of 31,000 feet, aboard a Southwest flight to Baltimore. I’m on my way to PoeFest, where my book Potable Poe: Cocktails of Mystery and Imagination (Fulcort Press, 2025) is (shockingly) a finalist for Poe Baltimore’s coveted literary award. A few moments ago I tried explaining the point and purpose of PoeFest to my seatmate, and I fear that I came across as a nutcase. Me: “It’s a gathering of people who like Poe’s writing!” Seatmate (sounding like Colombo): “But what exactly do you do?” Me: “Well, like we listen to people doing readings of Poe’s works!” Seatmate: “But haven’t you already read them all?” Me: “Well, we also go to Poe’s gravesite and drink a cognac toast to him.” Seatmate: “Flight attendant! Can I be moved please?”

Now, attentive readers will recall that earlier this summer I attended BlobFest, which, as should be evident from the name, is a fest(ival) celebrating the 1958 horror classic “The Blob.” Gatherings such as PoeFest and BlobFest don’t simply allow us to pay homage to a great writer or a great (or maybe mediocre) movie. And they don’t simply provide opportunities to study societal subgroups. More than anything, I think, these events allow us to get a better understanding of ourselves. Why did I come here? What is it about this event that appeals to me? What kinds of people do I choose to associate with? Where did my wallet go?

I think all of us have different facets or dimensions that we tend to only reveal when we’re around similar people. So I get my Poe on at PoeFest and I get my Blob on at BlobFest. What? You don’t do this as well?

In any event, there’s a reason I’m bringing all this up, and that’s because, while I was at BlobFest, which takes place annually in beautiful downtown Phoenixville, PA (pop: 19,000), I had lunch at a place called Bistro on Bridge, which has a relaxed outdoor dining area with a view of the historic Colonial Theater (which, you will recall, was the site of a crucial scene in The Blob).

And what did I see on the menu but a pretzel. The description was pretty minimalist: All it said was:

I decided to throw caution to the wind and order one of these bad boys. To my surprise it turned out to be a much more elaborate presentation than the minimalist description suggested. It’s the size of a Miata’s front tire, and it’s hung on its own stainless steel hook-stand. The hook-stand is in turn placed on a rustic wooden serving board, and the aforementioned beer cheese and spicy dijon mustard are nestled at the base. This is not just a pretzel; it is an event.

Before digging in I made a quick visual inspection of the pretzel itself. It sports an enticing mahogany color and presents some of the characteristic cracking that, to my mind, serves the same function as the celebrated “nooks and crannies” in Thomas’s English Muffins.

But, as with so many beautifully-presented foodstuffs, shortcomings become evident once you actually eat it. For starters, the salt was carelessly and haphazardly applied, resulting in half the pretzel tasting a low-sodium snack food and half resembling a salt lick. Second, the pretzel was too bready. Not even the nooks and crannies could surmount this fatal flaw. Third, as the pretzel cooled it became tougher and tougher, until it resembled that Miata tire in texture as well as shape. I strongly suspect that this pretzel was microwaved. Supporting this theory is the fact it arrived, piping hot, just moments after I ordered it.

And then there’s the beer cheese. It was thin to the point of watery, and quickly developed a rubbery skin on the surface, much the way Jack in the Box’s nacho cheese sauce congeals if you don’t eat it it fast enough. I suspect this so-called beer cheese was some kind of pre-fab condiment they buy by the barrel.

The mustard was good though. The taste was intense and horseradish-forward, reminiscent of Grey Poupon Deli Dijon. Being as piquant and potent as it was, the mustard worked together with the Nooks and Crannies to mask, or at least distract from, the pretzel’s other sins. This was one of the few times I preferred the mustard to the beer cheese.

And so, in the end, I managed to down a little over half the pretzel….until the mustard ran out. Still, I can’t say I enjoyed it as much as I should have. And so I am awarding it 3 stars, which is somewhere between “meh” and “I’ve had worse.”

PRETZEL TRIVIA

1n 1963, Joseph Nacchio of the Federal Pretzel Baking Company in south Philly made a 20-pound pretzel in connection with the mapcap movie It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World. Even though this claim is repeated all over the Internet, I cannot find how, exactly, the pretzel relates to the film. Some say it appeared in one of the hardware-store basement scenes with Sid Caesar and Edie Adams, but I just finished watching those scenes on YouTube and there’s no sign of a giant pretzel. Others say the pretzel was used as a “promotional stunt” for the movie–a claim that raises more questions than it answers. But I can find no elaboration on this point, or any evidence that it actually happened. I would welcome any clarification from any film historians among my readership.

But what is reasonably well documented is that Joseph Nacchio also made a second, larger pretzel which was deemed the largest in the world at that time (1963). It weighed 40 pounds and measured five feet across. Interestingly, the width of the pretzel is the same as the interior width of a Studebaker Avanti that was manufactured in that same year. I know this because I own one. (The car, not the pretzel.)

It should be noted that the current record for the world’s largest pretzel was set in 2015 in San Salvador, El Salvador. It weighed about 1,700 pounds, or exactly half as much as a Studebaker.

Ladies and Gentlemen: Blobfest!

July 11, 2026 steveboilardLeave a comment

Finally–after over two years of waiting, this morning I finally returned to Phoenixville, PA (pop: 18,600) to attend the 26th annual Blobfest.

This has got to be one of the high points of the year for Phoenixville. Most of the main drag (Bridge Street) was closed to vehicular traffic, and well over 100 vendors were setting up tables to promote their blob-related (or blog-adjacent) wares.

Many of the businesses along the street got into the spirit of things, with blob-themed displays everywhere. Now, let me take a moment to acknowledge that “blob-themed) is a rather malleable category…by definition. Some chose to portray it as a cute figure reminiscent of Western Kentucky University’s “Big Red.”

Others opted for oozing slime which was more reminiscent of blood than “blob.”

Still others went the circus route, which is the ill-advised theme of this year’s Blobfest.

And then there was this….pizza(?)

Anyway, my point is that the entire town (or at least the Bridge Street) was decked out for a proper Blobfest. The festivities were attended by myriad people of all ages and dispositions. Accordingly, there was a play zone and a story time for the little blobs:

Happily, two of the Blobfest attendees were horror author Holly Knightley and her mother, April. They were game to do a photo op from within the blob:

*Holly (left) and April meet their demise.*

(You can check out Holly’s books here.)

Also in the Small World Department: I ran into Ashley Galleo, who is the manager of the American Treasure Tour, that I wrote about in yesterday’s blog. I asked Ashley what binds together the disparate items in that collection, and she said the anonymous collector seeks out things that are “mechanical and fun,” and that bring “joy.” Next time you’re in eastern Pennsylvania, you should check it out.

*Ashley with a minuscule sample from the American Treasure Tour.*

But the real star of the Blobfest was the historic Colonial Theater. Originally constructed in 1902 as the Colonial Opera House, it has spent the one-and-a-quarter century as a vaudeville house, a live performance venue, and a movie theater. Notably for our purposes, key scenes from The Blob were filmed in and around the Colonial Theater.

*My photo from this morning, before Blobfest started. Note the marquee display is the same. Also note the inflatable blob.*

I joined a packed house for a screening of The Blob this afternoon. The interior of the theater looks much like it did in 1958, and probably much earlier than that.

*Mystery mural on the mezzanine level. I couldn’t discover what it depicts. Ideas?*

And the back of the house, on the wall of the projection booth, is this plaque:

Now might be a good time to explain the movie to those of you who haven’t seen it. It’s a classic B-movie horror film, starring a young Steve McQueen. A small meteorite strikes the earth, and it contains a softball-sized “blob” of gelatinous goo. A hapless old man ends up getting the goo stuck on his hand, and before long the blob has entirely digested him, growing in the process. The blob goes on to claim other victims, until it’s big enough to cover an entire diner. Finally Steve McQueen figures out how to stop its reign of terror, but you’ll have to watch it (or search IMDB) to find out how.

Let’s acknowledge that this is not a great movie. The pacing is uneven, the dialogue is (unintentionally) laughable, the “special effects” are unconvincing, and there are plot holes aplenty. Still, it’s an earnest movie, and Steve McQueen is eminently likable. On top of all that, there’s a moral lesson at the end that bears a special resonance today. But I think what I enjoyed most about watching it today was sitting in that same Colonial Theater, with several hundred fans, cheering and laughing together. There aren’t many such opportunities for a communal experience like that these days.

Oh, and speaking of communal experiences: after the evening showing all the patrons ran out of the theater screaming, just like in the movie. I’ll close my report on Blobfest with this short video of the run-out:

BOTD

The Brew of the Day was, appropriately, a Blobfest IPA, that comes from Phoenixville’s own SlyFox Brewing Company.

*You could only buy draft versions for consumption, so I had the owner hold up a can of the stuff for your benefit.*

This is the third year that SlyFox has put out a special beer for Blobfest. I admire that kind of commitment–especially as several of the local bars and eateries have offered nothing blob-related. In fact, that window art of a blob ice cream cone that I featured above was not available as the real thing. Talk about a missed opportunity!

So kudos to SlyFox for doing the Blob IPA. It’s a hazy IPA that clocks in at 6.3 percent alcohol. So that’s good. What’s not good is the taste. I found it far too bitter, too overhopped. And that’s not just on the palate; it also characterizes the finish. In other words, there’s a distinct, lingering bitterness….which also describes me, but that’s another issue altogether. I frankly found this to be almost undrinkable, and ending up tossing it out halfway through.

Now, to be fair, I’m not a fan of IPAs, but I think I can appreciate when they’re done well. In my humble opinion, the recipe missed on this one. One star.

bridges · movie theaters · Road trips · trains

Blob Blog

April 17, 2024 steveboilard1 Comment

By coincidence, I recently received as gifts two books concerning the Lincoln Highway. The first, which I read last year, is The Lincoln Highway by Amor Towles. It’s a fictional account about a trip along the fabled transcontinental route. The second book, which I’m currently reading, is American Road by Pete Davies. It’s a true account about a caravan of military vehicles which traversed the Lincoln Highway in 1919, in an effort to raise awareness and promote the paving of the route.

Established in 1913, the Lincoln Highway was the country’s first transcontinental route for automobiles. It began as a patchwork of existing stretches of roadway, most of which were just rutted dirt roads. Over time it got re-aligned and paved, with gas stations and diners and motels dotting the roadside. Today, most of the old Lincoln Highway is long gone, superseded by modern interstates.

In California, I-80 roughly traverses the old route. There are a few markers and memorials a long the way. (A couple of years ago I hiked a crumbling, original section of the road near Donner Pass. Here’s the blog post and here’s the photo:)

I also discussed the Lincoln Highway and included a photo of an original Lincoln Highway marker in this blog post.

I bring all this up because today I drove around a hundred miles of the old Lincoln Highway route heading west out of Philadelphia. Most of the original route is now U.S. Route 30. I was hoping to see some ancient infrastructure and roadside structures from the Old Days, but most of the route today looks like any other two-lane highway. Yet I did spy a few elements that date back to the early 20th century.

*1922 bridge and (presumably) much older building. These were surely around for the Lincoln Highway’s early years.*

*Phone booth in Compass, PA might not have been around for the original Lincoln Highway, but it qualifies as historic.*

When I eventually arrived in Downingtown (pop: 7,900) I was feeling a bit peckish. I stopped at the mid-century Downingtown Diner, whose sign announces that it’s the “Home of the Blob.”

*For the 90 percent of the country that isn’t familiar with the movie, is “home of the blob” a winning slogan for a diner?*

You remember The Blob, right? It was a 1958 science fiction film that featured a young Steve McQueen in his first starring role. The plot (such as it is) involves a giant, carnivorous blob of Jell-O from outer space. Do yourself a favor and watch the trailer; there’s even a shot of the diner.

I went into the diner and was greeted by Shannon. I quizzed her about the Blob connection, but surprisingly (shockingly, even) she admitted to never having watched the movie. She did inform me, however, that the diner building was replaced since the movie was made. (“But the basement is original!”)

*Though not the original, it* does look a lot like the diner in the movie.

The Downington Diner doesn’t shrink from it’s B-movie connection. Not only is The Blob featured on their roadside sign, but the menu features a “Blob Special.”

*I couldn’t bring myself to order the Blob Special.*

Shannon, who was as friendly and helpful as they come, instead whipped me up a delicious mint chip milkshake. (“It’s green, like the Blob!”) Which is true, if you go by the green blob on their sign. But it should be noted that the Blob in the movie is red.

*Seriously the best milkshake I’ve ever had.*

Now that I was fortified with 1,700 calories of blended ice cream, there was only one thing to do: Head over to the nearby town of Phoenixville (pop: 20,000), where the Blob’s famous Movie Theater Scene was filmed. (You saw it in the trailer, above.) Phoenixville was founded in 1849, and for years the local economy was centered on the Phoenix Iron Works. The company closed in the 1980s, and Phoenixville suffered a economic decline. But in recent years the city has been transformed, and today it appears charming and downright prosperous.

I sensed a good deal of civic pride in the spotless business district and beautiful homes. I even encountered a group of students from the local college who were spending the morning sprucing up the public spaces with rakes and brooms. These kids are seriously the best–energetic, outward-oriented, positive, friendly.

But let’s get back to the reason I came to Phoenixville: to see the theater from The Blob. The place looks practically unchanged from its 1958 movie appearance.

The Colonial Theater actually dates all the way back to 1903, when it started out hosting Vaudeville shows. Showbiz greats like Mary Pickford and Harry Houdini have graced its stage. It’s gratifying that the good people of Phoenixville have seen fit to preserve and support this historic venue. In fact, every summer the town and the theater throw a major festival called Blobfest. I’m seriously thinking about coming back in July…

It was now time to return to the Lincoln Highway, which in the form of US Route 30, cuts through Pennsylvania’s picturesque Amish county. Farm houses, rolling hills, and horse-drawn buggies constitute the main scenery. I figure these scenes are pretty much unchanged from when the Lincoln Highway was established over a century ago.

Of course, when one travels through Pennsylvania’s Amish country one is obligated to take advantage of the Intercourse photo-op.

*There’s got to be a story behind the name change.*

After Intercourse I had a cigarette, and then headed into Strasburg, which is a well-known railroad Mecca. In addition to several impressive railroad museums, a steam-powered railroad, a model railroad display, and antique stores jammed with railroad memorabilia, Strasburg has a motel comprised entirely of old, full-size railroad cabooses.

*Not your father’s motel. (Well, not my father’s, at least.)*

When I was a lad I begged my dad to let us stay at a place like this while we were on a driving vacation. What could be more cool than sleeping in a railroad cabooses? Dad said no, however, figuring that the fun factor (such as it was) wouldn’t justify the compromises in terms of comfort. But today I made a different calculation. So, over a half-century later, I’m finally spending the night in a caboose. It’s actually a nice little room, and the funky floorplan and high windows really lends a certain charm. Plugs, I’m surrounded by other railcars and a full-size steam railroad. I admit, however, that if my wife were with me this would not be an option.

BsOTD

Today’s Brews (note the plural) Of The Day come from Spring House Brewing Company in Strasburg. Their tavern on Main Street is comfortable and inviting, with ancient dark-wood paneling and a dark-wood stairway to unexplained upstairs rooms. My server (Dani) didn’t know how old the building is, but the ripples in the front window glass suggest at least a century.

The brewery had 13 of their own beers on tap, and I found it hard to choose just one. So I ordered a flight of four. And then, I ordered another flight of another 4. What follows, then, are my eight Brews of the Day.

*Server Dani, who delivered my 8 Brews of the Day.*

*My first 4 Brews of the Day (in order from left to right)*

Empty Terrarium: Nitro Fruited IPA (6.3% ABV). Watery. Boring. A slight tinge of citrus but no real flavor and no fizziness. It’s like a chocolate Easter Bunny after the first, decapitating bite: no head and not hoppy. 1 star out of 5.

Commander Salamander: Fruited sour (4.5%). Seems to start with the same base as the Empty Terrarium, but somehow it’s fizzier (without really becoming hoppy). The sour taste is quite enjoyable–it’s fairly understated; more like sour apple gum than a lemon Warheads (TM) hard candy. This would be satisfying on a warm day (which today is not). It’s one of those beers that you should only have one of–not because of the alcohol, but because the second pint could be cloying. For the first glass, though, it’s quite satisfying. 3.5 stars.

Tasty Little Devil: Imperial Milk Stout (7.5%). Characteristic sweetness and creaminess of a milk stout. More roasty than chocolatey, But a slight peppermint note on the finish evokes a Christmas hot chocolate. Well balanced. I give it 3.5 out of 5 stars. I would have given it a 4 if they upped the alcohol at least to 8 percent, which in my mind is the floor for anything called “Imperial.”

Kerplunk! Imperial chocolate stout (8.0%). The punctuation is part of the name, presumably taken from the Milton Bradley game. A bit harsher than the Tasty Little Devil. But more importantly, this doesn’t really attain its potential. Reminds me of brownie mix stirred into water. 2 stars.

Painted Pony: English style brown ale (5.4%). Nicely balanced. A bit on the bitter side (which maybe is the “English style” coming through?) Definite chocolate notes. Good backbone. The kind of beer you’d enjoy at the neighborhood pub at the end of your 12-hour shift in the mines. 3 stars

The Angler: Cali Pale Ale (5%). Definitely the California style. Clean, citrusy, bright. It’s perfect for those of you who like this style of beer. Which I don’t. But I know quality when I taste it, so I’ll give it four stars.

Demon Squirrel: Amber lager (5.3%). Now this is interesting. Malty, with some hints of fruitiness. Very balanced hops. Heavy carbonation adds dimensionality and compensates for the neutral finish. Flavorful without being overpowering. 4.5 stars.

CASK Mild Party: Dark mild (3.3%). The name of the style (“dark mild”) says it all. Intentionally served at room temperature, this is a dark-colored beer with absolutely no structure, backbone, carbonation, or even flavor. It has the consistency and mouthfeel of dishwater. It tastes like watery tea that’s been left in a styrofoam cup on the dirty Formica counter for a day and a half. And it can’t even deliver a mild buzz. It’s the kind of beer that makes you question your faith in God. 1/2 star.