BY ART BUKOWSKI
abukowski@record-eagle.com
TRAVERSE CITY — Lori Randell grabbed a set of tongs and lifted a colossal turkey leg from a hot tray inside the Steve's Smokin' BBQ trailer at the National Cherry Festival.
There are plenty of reasons why people go crazy for the giant legs, Randell contends. Real wood smoke imparts a particularly delicious flavor, she said, and they certainly don't leave you feeling empty.
And maybe, just maybe, there's a deep-down, primal attraction to such giant hunks of meat.
"I think they like that they can hang on to them caveman-style," she said.
But ask Randall how she manages to secure such giant legs, and she won't budge.
"That's a trade secret," she said with a grin.
It's Cherry Festival week, and for many that means it's time to gobble up as much festival food as possible. Turkey legs, corn dogs, Polish sausage, elephant ears, cotton candy, caramel apples and more await, along with a host of local restaurant stands that offer traditional fare.
Everyone seems to have a favorite item. Michele Plattenberger sure does.
The Lake Orion resident was on a serious mission to get an elephant ear or funnel cake. Her husband, Karl Plattenberger, explained that she hadn't had either in a very long time.
"We were in Japan for six years, and they never had them, so it's become sort of a holy grail," he said.
Michelle had settled for fried squid and other Japanese vittles until Wednesday, when she was able to sink her teeth into an elephant ear for the first time in the better part of a decade.
"Oh my God," she said as she tore into the sugar-covered treat. "This was worth waiting for."
Shannon Cantrell worked downtown for years, and always wandered down to the festival for lunch. There's certain things she needs to get during festival week — Gibby's fries, a caramel apple and some cherries — and this year is no different.
"It's tradition," the lifelong Traverse City resident said. "I have to have one of each of those things."
Flat Rock resident Darrell Wiegert is an Italian sausage kind of guy. He likes the flavor, the fixings, the whole package. But in a display of marital unity, he chose a corn dog instead because his wife also wanted one.
She probably didn't have to fight too hard to win him over.
"I'm 53 years old, and there's not much I'll turn down," he said.
Everyone seems to gravitate to Gibby's fries, a festival tradition for decades and a big draw for fest eaters. District Judge John D. Foresman, who slipped away from work to grab a bite, intended to get some Asian food from the festival food court.
But Foresman somehow ended up with a big pile of fries. Secret fries, he hoped.
"Just don't tell my doctor I'm eating Gibby's fries," he said.
The festival's food court is packed with stands run by local restaurants. Some consider it a touch more upscale than the carnival fare, and maybe a bit healthier, too.
"I come to check if there's anything vegetarian," said downtown worker Janet Corneail. "I find that's usually not the case, unless you want Gibby's fries."
It's crossed Corneail's mind that Gibby's might use lard, but she tries not to think about it.
"I never asked the question so I don't have to know the answer," she said.
Corneail's friend and co-worker Chris Hoos didn't aim to eat mid-day Wednesday, she was just there to look. That way when she comes back in the evening, she won't waste her time in a long line for something she ultimately won't like.
"I always come to look at what they have so I can come back later," she said. "This is my survey time."
Staffers of the carnival and food court stands alike have to eat at some point, too. Gibby's worker Betty Krause runs over to the food court to get a salad.
"When it's 95 out, it's 130 in here," she said of the fry stand. "You want some veggies."
Randell, of the turkey leg stand, sometimes barters with other stands in "Gibbyville," a mini food court area near the miniature train tracks.
"In this little area here, we trade. The vendors take care of each other," she said. "I've got to have some Gibby's fries."
