[itinerary | lodging] New Jersey loves a Taylor pork roll. Binghamton throws a whole festival for spiedies. Buffalo adores its beef-on-Weck, while Utica goes nuts for chicken riggies. But Rochester…

As a non-native, you were reluctant to try something called the trash plate (aka garbage plate, but you don’t want to get sued). You’ve lived in the region for three years now and haven’t had a bite. That’s a crime for any travel and food writer living in the vicinity of the Flower City. If you are truly as adventurous as you claim to be, you need to take the plunge and dive into a pile of meat sauce, home fries, and mac salad.

Seneca Park

It is not your original intention to seek a trash plate one hot and lazy weekend in July. You want to be spontaneous, much to the delight of your travel companion, so you dress the little companion in her favorite lemon shirt and shorts, strap her into the car seat, and venture toward the Roc. There’s a park along the river you’ve been hoping to visit for some time. You drive through the city on St. Paul Street along the eastern shore of the Genesee River until, at the cusp of the city limits and West Irondequoit, you enter Seneca Park.

Seneca Park invites you down a narrow road surrounded by trees, hugging the edge of Rochester as it towers above the steep banks of the Genesee River. The main attraction of the park appears to be the zoo, as you pass sign after sign presenting overflow parking options leading up to the main lot. It must be busy today, seeing as many of the lots have cars in them. You find a quieter lot across from a trail and stop to get your bearings. The trail is a concrete overpass built into the side of the bluffs, surrounded by forest but offering a clear view of the western shore and beyond. You decide to hike down the trail a ways before realizing you aren’t sure where it will spit you out — back into the main park? By the river? It’s a long way down, and the shade gets thicker and darker the deeper you go. Having only brought the little one in your arms — no kangaroo, no stroller, no go bag — you feel woefully unprepared to continue this trek. You double back, but not before snapping a few shots from the trail’s sweeping views.

Back at the car, you prepare a quick milk bottle for the little one and notice a large playground adjacent to the lot. At the moment, only a mother and her daughter occupy the playground, so you figure it’s a good opportunity for your young companion to practice her walking. Taking her by one hand and encouraging her to let the other hand swing free, you guide her across the parking lot in her pink Velcro sneakers. Outside is so much bigger than the living room at home, but she manages the distance one step at a time until she reaches the safety of the playground’s wood chip floor. It’s a big achievement, and she’s rewarded with some cool equipment on which to play.

The mother and daughter wander over for one last go at the tall slides, which little companion is reluctant to attempt. You notice now that the other little girl is also decked out in a lemon-themed outfit, just like your little one. “Two lemon girls,” you remark, and the mother laughs. What are the odds that on a random Saturday when you decide to be spontaneous in Rochester, you run into her twin at a playground in the park. Both of them are shy, but you believe the sight of the other little girl going down the slide helps your little one overcome her fear. After the mother-daughter team depart, she climbs into your lap and you both slide down together. Baby steps, often quite literally.

^{Enjoying the swings; first fall on the playground}

With help from mama, the little one has to have a turn at the swings — one of her first “rides” on a playground back at Vitale Park in Lakeville — and her smile is everything in this world keeping you going. You try practicing more walking on the playground’s wood chip floor, its unique texture presenting a new challenge for the little companion. One twisted step, and she’s on the ground. She’s used to falls by now and is thankfully not too shaken up by the softer floor, but she insists on a hug from dad anyway.

With the temperature rising at midday, you pack up the family in the car to explore the rest of the park from the safety of air conditioning. Deeper into the park you finally see this zoo all the signs have been talking about. Indeed, the place is packed with people — especially parents with young kids and infants in strollers and wagons. Definitely a family-friendly attraction you’ll want to save for a later adventure. Toward the far end of the park, the road splits into a one-way loop around Trout Lake. The park provides several pavilions and charcoal grills, presumable by reservation, and you can already smell delicious homemade barbecue wafting from the different family events. Someone even set up an inflatable bouncy house for the kids. It’s nice to see summer traditions in full swing.

Spotted Octopus Brewing

Unfortunately for you these are private barbecues, and your stomach is growling. You hadn’t planned on a specific restaurant for today, so you let your fingers do the walking on Google Maps. Surprisingly, there’s not a lot open for lunch in downtown Rochester on a Saturday. One spot saved on your map is a brewery which, as you’ve learned from another Roc adventure, is actually a perfect atmosphere for little ones. You set your GPS for Union Street and Spotted Octopus Brewing Company.

Lunch hour has just begun, and you’re one of the first ones in the taproom that day. Spotted Octopus’s brewery is an upbeat, colorful blend of post-industrial and cephalopod-themed mise-en-scène, complete with tentacle tap handles and an octopus mural. You pony up to the bar where the friendly bar tender greets you. Being it’s one of your token spontaneous Saturdays, you decide to go bold and order something other than a light pilsner for a change. A name catches your eye on the draft board: OSB Cider Works. You know OSB a little bit. You’ve driven past it hundreds of times in the last three years — a fixture on Big Tree Road in Lakeville, the main drag for a couple of your favorite restaurants. But you’ve yet to venture inside.

^{Spotted Octopus mural; tentacle taps; view of the brews w/ bonus cameo by little companion}

A taste of OSB’s tart cherry cider convinces you it’s time to change that fact. The cider is crisp and cool, yet warm in a way, with a sharp sweetness that electrifies your taste buds. You make a note to check out the cider works soon. It is, after all, practically in your backyard at Conesus Lake. You continue along with your trend of bucking the trend and switch things up for your lunch. You’ve tasted plenty of burgers by now. Life is about growth; just ask your little companion. You have to face your fear and go down the tall slide like a big girl.

Then the menu provides the greatest opportunity to unlock a new achievement. You believe it’s high time you ordered a Rochester trash plate. It helps that Spotted Octopus’s description of their plate is appetizing in and of itself: choose between a burger, white hot, or red hot “served with meat hot sauce, white onion, and Carolina gold over garlic parm home fries and tangy dill macaroni salad.” Carolina gold sold it for you — a unique twist on the traditional yellow mustard. You order the half plate over the full plate, just in case you can’t finish it.

When the plate comes out, your travel companion’s eyes light up. The plate might not be the typical Instagram bait, but the aroma and heat radiating from the fresh hot meat sauce and crispy home fries tempts your stomach in ways no thirst trap ever could. The onions and sauce remind you a little bit of the Texas hot you ordered in Wellsville two years ago. Dill slices are a fresh take on mac salad. Everything is dusted with parsley flakes, and you have to imagine Carmen Berzotto from The Bear all suited up in his chef’s whites drizzling Carolina gold at just the right angle and pace to satisfy his diners. All you can do is dive in. One forkful of salad, sauce, a chunk of hamburger, and a home fry, and suddenly you get it. It’s clear now. You finally understand what Rochester is all about. The spice of the onions and meat sauce juxtaposed with the creamy, slightly sour mac salad, sandwiched between juicy smash burger and crunchy potatoes, tied together by the tangy Carolina gold: it’s a dream in a bite, a firecracker of flavor, and yes you do want more.

^{Tart Cherry Cider from Lakeville’s own OSB Cider Works + Half Trash Plate w/ Burger}

By now another bargoer has noticed your enjoyment of the plate and speaks up.

“Ah yes, the trash plate. That’s when I knew I became a true Rochesterian.”

“That’s when you knew you were a Rochesterian?” the bartender weighs in. “For me it was Genny light.”

You agree that you should be drinking a Genny light with this meal. But it’s not currently on tap at Spotted Octopus — and OSB is still a local institution around these parts — so you’ll accept the experience as your admission into the fold. You’ve been on several dates with Rochester, and this might be the one where you invite it back to your place for the night. You wolf down the whole plate, but not before sharing a tiny piece of hamburger with the little companion. A Strong Memorial baby, it’s only appropriate that she get hooked on trash plates from a young age.

Schutt’s Apple Mill

You’re susceptible to the power of suggestion, be it the sensual description of a trash plate in a menu or a reel of someone scooping ice cream into a container. It’s a good trait to have as a travel writer and adventurer: the ability to say “yes, and.” So for dessert you set your sights on a specific ice cream float you saw in your Facebook feed.

The ice cream float in question is a featured dessert at Schutt’s Apple Mill in nearby Webster, an eastern suburb of Rochester. It’s a quick drive through Irondequoit to the mill, a quaint but long white building with red trim located just off Plank Road. The parking lot features artistic installations in a rustic, Andy Warhol-meets-Johnny Appleseed kind of theme. You could have sworn you saw the same sofa in an art museum many years ago.

^{Art outside Schutt’s Apple Mill in Webster, NY; bonus ancient roll confirms it’s not Andy Warhol’s sofa}

The mill is separated between different sections, with a general store and grocery toward the front, cider works to the rear, and a tasting room tucked away in the corner. It’s a pleasant surprise to find a hidden hard cider bar in the back. You carry the little one over and inspect the day’s current taps. The bar is designed like a giant crate of apples (or repurposed from one), and you can appreciate the thought that went into hanging an Edison-bulb chandelier over the tap room. It’s like an apple mill speakeasy with hard cider instead of bathtub gin.

^{The Tasting Room at Schutt’s Apple Mill, plus the tallest socks ever worn by a grown man}

The cheerful cider tender tells you about the flight options, and once again OSB has a rotation on tap. You select their “Don’t Go Chasin’ Watermelon” watermelon cider, as well as the house brand “Fried Cake” — a cider fermented along with standard cinnamon and sugar spices from a fried cake — and a cider from Canandaigua’s Star Cider, “Appley Ever After.” You start with the dryer Star Cider, a crisp, cool blend of green apple and pear, bubbly like a champagne. You switch sips to Schutt’s Fried Cake, a warm-feeling, sugary cider that lives up to its name. Finally you imbibe on OSB’s Watermelon. It tastes like sweet watermelon, the smell of freshly cut grass, and summer vacation. Like a feeling you have forgotten you once felt, a feeling you see on your little companion’s face when she grabs your hand and leads you across the yard or the squeal she makes when she sees the sun rising over the Lake on a summer’s morning.

The cider tender offers to snap a family photo while you enjoy the flight. When looking at the photo later, you realize it’s the happiest you’ve looked in a long time. Your family feels more complete with the little travel companion along for the ride. She makes you both laugh, she keeps you company, she shows you things you didn’t know were there. She teaches you about yourself as much as you teach her about the world. Including apple cider.

You polish off the cider flight and resume the original intention of the visit to Schutt’s; specifically, the apple cider float. The ice cream scooper reads your mind as you roll up to order and mentions the souvenir glass upgrade for just 3 bucks more. You’re always happy to add to your collection. The scooper lines the glass with caramel sauce, then fills it with homemade vanilla ice cream scoops. Then she douses the scoops with a cold couple of ounces of fresh apple cider. Finally, she tops the float with crumbled fried cake, which will pair nicely with the Fried Cake hard cider you tasted earlier. You get to keep the glass plus the rest of the cider bottle. Something sweet and cold to sip on the drive home.

^{Star Cider Appley Ever After, Schutt’s Fried Cake, and OSB Watermelon + Apple Cider Float}

With your curiosity satisfied, you feel free to browse the mill’s shop in between sips of the creamy, sweet apple float. There are coolers of local cheeses, vacuum-packed meats, eggs and milk, and of course plenty of apple juice and cider. Tables of apples of all varieties line the perimeter, while cider workers run apple crates between the front shop and the cider works in the back. You stop by a wall of maple syrups and maple candies, tempted to buy a few boxes of those melt-in-your-mouth maple patties from heaven. You’ve been trying to temper your relationship with sugar these days, so you pass for now. In the general store section, you see a top shelf lined with toys, decorations, and other bric-a-brac, including a wooden plaque showing a basketball going through a hoop with the words, Dad, you are a SLAM DUNK! You hope you can be. You hope you are the Michael Jordan of dads (basketball, not baseball).

^{The universe is trying to tell you something}

Back home, you unwind and reflect once again on your adventures and the progress your little companion has made this year. From swaddling to walking, she’s accomplished more than most adults do in years. But you can give yourself some credit. You continue to improve yourself as a father while still finding time to write about your world around the Lake. Not only that, but you’ve officially become a Rochesterian. You’ve eaten — and absolutely loved — the legendary trash plate. Nothing left to do but crack a Genny light, lounge in the front yard, and take in a view of Conesus Lake.

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