Abbey's Road: Reliving a taste of the county fair

I may be a city girl, but I can hold my own at a county fair.

From an early age, our parents worked to instill in my brother and me — suburbanites right down to our diagonally mown lawn and annual themed neighborhood block parties — an appreciation for the finer things in life that can only be gleaned from walking through horse barns in your new tennis shoes and politely breathing through your mouth while pretending you’re strolling through a field of roses.

I’m not sure at what point this tradition started in my family, but for as long as I can remember, we would rush home from our very suburban school on a steamy September afternoon and drive 25 miles south along country roads to spend a few hours at the Wayne County Fair.

It was always an evening of mixed emotions: The thrill of hopping into a burlap sack and racing down a towering wavy slide, or admiring the swirl of lights and activity from the tip-top of a rickety Ferris wheel; the boredom at walking through rows of antique tractors (sorry Dad and tractor people, you know I love you); the inspiration upon seeing the articles of clothing sewn by 4-H kids half my age and the feeling of deflation as I wondered what I was going to do with my life if I couldn’t sew a formal gown by the age of 12.

We would trudge through the grange rotunda and “ooh” and “ahh” on cue when Mom would point out an old toy that was well crafted while inwardly we fought a mental battle of “Funnel Cake vs. Ribbon Fries,” hoping that ultimately the answer would be “both.”

It was enlightening to gaze at the prize-winning glass jars of corn, carrots and green beans, all lined up in a row, and wonder who was in charge of deciding which fruit pie was the best as we secretly contemplated the feasibility of securing that gig in the future.

Of course where food is concerned, anyone who has ever been to the Wayne County Fair will tell you that it’s not just about the tractor pulls or taking a selfie with the Best of Show Half-Ton Pumpkin or making off with as much swag as possible from the exhibition hall — it’s also about the donuts.

Because if you go to the Wayne County Fair and leave without sampling a Lerch’s Donut, freshly lifted from the hot oil at the back of the trailer and doused in a blanket of cinnamon-sugary goodness, then you have wasted your day and I feel sorry for you.

That’s just the way it is.

Now somewhere along the line — between college and relocating to central Ohio and starting a family, I suppose — the Wayne County Fair tradition dropped off my radar, and it wasn’t until last week, when my parents invited me to make the 90-minute trek (sans children!) up to Wayne County with them, that I realized how much I missed it.

Friends, if you ever have a chance to relive old memories with your parents, please do it.

We didn’t slide down the big slide (which looked oddly smaller), but we moved more slowly through the art exhibits because now I have three kids who like to make art.

We didn’t purchase a funnel cake or ribbon fries, but the quarter chickens with rolls and green beans were a type of homestyle that you don’t come by every day.

Because we were short on time and had to be back by the end of the school day, we didn’t get to breathe through our mouths as we walked through the swine building; but we stood by the track took in a few rounds of harness racing, which felt for me (still a suburbanite) like a taste of the Kentucky Derby, sans hats and fanfare.

Last but not least, because I know you’re wondering:

Do you know how you can protect your best childhood memories in a cozy blanket of nostalgia, but sometimes when you try to repeat them in the present, they fall short?

I’m here to tell you that I had very high expectations for that first bite of a warm Lerch’s donut, and It. Did. Not. Disappoint.

So the Wayne County Fair lives on in my mind as a sweet taste of country life, a place where suburbanites and 4-H’ers and city slickers and everyone in between can gather in a place and find something to appreciate.

Even if that thing is just Lerch’s Donuts. (But really there’s no “just” about it.)

Abbey Roy is a mom of three girls who make every day an adventure. She writes to maintain her sanity. You can probably reach her at amroy@nncogannett.com, but responses are structured around bedtimes and weekends.

This article originally appeared on Newark Advocate: Abbey relives childhood memories and flavors at the Wayne County Fair