A native Minnesotan tried out the State Fair of Texas. Did it live up to the hype? | Opinion

After living here five years, I finally attended the State Fair of Texas. I was hesitant and for good reason: I’m a native Minnesotan and we’re known to have, well, the best state fair. Or, at least, we think we do.

When the great Minnesota Get-Together happens in August and through Labor Day weekend, it’s an epic event, much like it is here in Texas. For 10 days, Minnesotans enjoy amazing fried food, incredible live music — and cooler weather.

So could a new Texan even like the State Fair of Texas? Blasphemy, I know. Cut me some slack.

Here are a few things I was thinking about as I took a picture with Big Tex, purchased my first-ever Fletcher’s Original Corny Dog and enjoyed a ride on the Ferris wheel.

For one thing, the Minnesota State Fair draws a significant crowd, the largest in the country by average daily attendance. About 2.1 million people attended in 2023, a record. Still, the grounds stay clean, the buildings are kept up well and there’s no ticket system for vendors, like you find at the State Fair of Texas. The Texas fair draws the largest crowd overall, but does run twice as long — and Texas pulls from a larger population.

I admit, my expectations weren’t that high. But some things still pleasantly surprised me. The day I went, the grounds appeared fairly clean. I spotted several law enforcement officers, which was reassuring, considering I went just days after a shooting over a dispute. The buildings on the ground seemed older, but just worn, not dilapidated.

While the massive plastic Dinosaurs in the Lagoon seemed a bit corny, watching the swan paddle boats while eating a Cornbread Sausage Bomb — one of this year’s newest foods — might have been the most relaxing part of my day. (Plus, it was the first time I’ve ever heard George Gershwin trickling through speakers at any state fair.)

If you think you’d like a ball of pimento cheese with sausage fried in cornbread batter, a North Carolinian’s delight, you’ll like the Cornbread Sausage Bomb for sure, and the portion is enough to share.

I was impressed with the emphasis on agriculture, farming and ranching, and kids and adults alike appreciate the animals and the Western feel of the exhibits — pretty foreign to a Minnesotan. But I admit the food is the real draw.

Much like any fair, the food was hit or miss. I was itching to try the Bourbon Banana Caramel Sopapilla, voted 2023’s Most Creative dish. The idea seemed great and I’ve got a real weakness for sopapillas. Still, the execution was lacking: The heavy bourbon caramel sauce weighed down the light, flaky pastries and by the time I really started eating, they were chewy and cold. Points for creative? Yes. Points for satisfaction? No.

The corny dog — an original since 1942 — held up to the hype, and I don’t even love corn dogs. You know you’ve nailed an item when all you need is a dot of ketchup and mustard and it’s sublime. Perfectly fried and warm, and I had to wait in line, a good sign that something is worth it. A nice, light Texas beer would have completed the experience, but I don’t day-drink on the clock. Thank you for appreciating my restraint.

I tried the Deep Fried Texas Oatmeal Pie — a fried version of one of my favorite childhood desserts — but it didn’t work at all. A gooey mess, it was basically indelible. At least it was cheap.

By far, the best thing I ate was the Deep Fried Honey Butter Brisket Swirls, another new item this year. It sounds like a heart attack on a plate and it probably is, but nobody is going to the fair to try out a new diet. If you like a traditional Southern chicken-and-waffles dish — another sweet and salty combo — this is a Texas version. Addicting and a perfect size portion. I would have fought off anyone who wanted to share.

As I walked through the Midway and enjoyed my first ride on the Ferris wheel, which provides a great view of the Dallas skyline and a break from eating all that fried food, I couldn’t help but feel a bit overwhelmed by the sheer size, the number of people, the activities and entertainment. Fairs attract all kinds of people, from rednecks to elitists, but nobody is really above a good corn dog at the end of the day.

I wondered even if a thriving state fair that attracts young and old, poor and rich, at all times of the day for three weeks, might be just the reason why some people loathe America.

In a strange way, state fairs epitomize the American experience: Work hard and play even harder. Many Americans don’t worry like the rest of the world does that their life will radically change overnight due to terrorism or crime. They wonder whether they should choose the classic Deep Fried Oreo or the new Deep Fried Texas Oatmeal Pie.

This is the blessing of living in the freest place on earth. It could also be a curse in a time when the world seems beset by crisis and serious problems. We may need to set aside some of our leisure time, entertainment and unhealthy food to focus on weightier matters. Can we or have we become so used to it that we consider this lifestyle a right?

Was the fair better than Minnesota’s? Hard to say. It’s similar to other fairs, but like everything Texas does, there’s more of it. It’s a freedom fest of gluttony and entertainment. Great in small doses but awful as a lifestyle. Whether that sounds like utopia or a nightmare is all about your perspective.

Do you have an opinion on this topic? Tell us!

We love to hear from Texans with opinions on the news — and to publish those views in the Opinion section.

• Letters should be no more than 150 words.

• Writers should submit letters only once every 30 days.

• Include your name, address (including city of residence), phone number and email address, so we can contact you if we have questions.

You can submit a letter to the editor two ways:

• Email letters@star-telegram.com (preferred).

• Fill out this online form.

Please note: Letters will be edited for style and clarity. Publication is not guaranteed. The best letters are focused on one topic.