WEST SPRINGFIELD — “Do you want to go to the Big E with me and eat all the amazing/disgusting things?,” Devra texted Christopher, knowing his weakness for fried food, butter sculptures, and oversize gourds would render him powerless to the suggestion.
There was no hesitation.
“I can’t think of a better way to spend a day, so that’s a gigantic yes,” he texted back, excited fingers flapping like an over-caffeinated hummingbird. “I’m like a Big E Sherpa for finding fried food.”
The Eastern States Exposition, known to everyone west of Framingham as the Big E, is the only multi-state fair in the United States. It’s a beast. There is no other place on the planet where you can see horse shows, giant pumpkin competitions, a circus, singing mechanical vegetables, Chubby Checker, Wang Chung, or Ludacris while shopping for hot tubs, sheds, floor steamers, and Trump lawn signs. As Stefon from “Saturday Night Live” would say, “This place has everything.” And we haven’t even gotten to the mechanical bull, the fantastic carny cast of characters on the midway, or the nightly Mardi Gras parade.
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But Wang Chung and hot tub shopping would have to wait for another day. Like most of the million-plus people who attend the 17-day fair each September, Devra and Christopher had arrived in West Springfield for the food. Their mission was a bit murky, but it involved seeking out some of the latest and greatest culinary offerings, plus diving into the standards that experienced fairgoers devour with glee each year.
Christopher quickly realized that his wasted youth — his parents let him miss a day of school each fall to attend the Big E — would finally have value. Devra had never been to the Big E, and Christopher was ready to guide her to his tried-and-true culinary favorites in the New England state buildings. Meanwhile, Devra was prepared to expand Christopher’s horizons, taking him out of his childhood comfort zone and showing him some of the new foods the Big E was trumpeting this year.
We would eat our weight in doughnuts and tacos or die trying. With empty stomachs, open minds, and elasticized waistbands, we arrived in West Springfield, walked past the man holding the “Don’t Tread on Me” flag, and began our culinary safari.
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First course: Maine baked potato
With a lifetime of Big E-xperience, Christopher knew what was what. And that what was baked potatoes. “We’ll park by the Avenue of States,” he said, already stuffing sunblock, wipes, dental hygiene kits, and a portable toilet into his murse. “Then we’ll head straight to the Maine building to get in the potato line.”
The potato line. The line … for potatoes. That are baked. Do people not know they can bake potatoes at home? Christopher just laughed and joined the approximately 4,236-person potato line. These spuds are cooked perfectly, tender but with a bit of bite. Because we were famished when we arrived, we each ordered a fully loaded (cheese, bacon bits, sour cream, chive, butter) potato. This was a strategic error in terms of stomach space. But it was not a mistake. It tasted too right to be wrong.
Second course: Maine blueberry crisp
The potatoes were consumed. Fine, inhaled. That should have been enough to satiate Christopher for a few minutes. Instead, he spotted someone in the Maine building with a dish of blueberry crisp. It looked good, and, as Devra learned long ago, he has the self-control of a raccoon in a trash can. Christopher hurriedly ordered warm crisp made with tiny wild blueberries and served with a side of vanilla ice cream. The crisp wasn’t crisp, but it was still a flavorsome, mushy, sweet concoction that tasted like it came out of a well-meaning grandma’s kitchen.
Third course: Maple syrup shots
Every New England state tries to claim maple superiority at the Big E, with the exception of Connecticut and Rhode Island. (Connecticut’s state building at the Big E has a hard time claiming superiority in any category unless you’re one of those weirdos who prefers lobster rolls hot and buttered.) Vermont goes all out with maple cotton candy, maple sugar candy, maple sriracha, and maple-roasted almonds. However, we were shocked that there were no vendors in the Vermont building serving maple creemees. There’s a broccoli bar at the Vermont building, for vegans’ sake, but zero creemees? (We did find someone selling this maple-infused soft-serve later, elsewhere at the fair.) In protest, Christopher opted to purchase his maple syrup in the Maine building after sampling a quick flight of syrup. The winner was the darkest syrup; the light stuff is for amateurs.
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Fourth course: Massachusetts raspberries
It is possible to find a healthy snack at the Big E. Perhaps exactly one, thanks to the nonprofit Mass Farmers Markets, which was selling cups of sweet, juicy, locally grown berries. (The people offering smoked salmon on a stick in the Maine building also claimed health food status, but without bagels, cream cheese, and capers, we weren’t biting.) These raspberries were a pleasant interlude, but something was missing. Maybe an undergirding of fried dough and a generous shake of powdered sugar. No, just kidding. Raspberries are nature’s perfect little ruby angel babies and we heart them with every inch of our stomachs.
Fifth course: Del’s Lemonade
Once Devra was at an outdoor wedding in Rhode Island on a sweltering summer day, and suddenly, out of nowhere, a Del’s truck pulled up: a mirage, a miracle. The entire guest list ran toward it in slo-mo. Ever since, she has been pretty obsessed with the frozen lemonade punctuated by bits of puckery rind. There was a Del’s station in the Rhode Island building, and we ran toward it too, dehydrated from the blazing sun and the blitz of bacon bits on our baked potatoes. As always, Del’s was the stuff of brain-freeze fantasy.
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Sixth course: Dragon’s Breath
Christopher stared at the smoky spectacle and thought, “How on earth could this be safe to eat?” Behind plexiglass, a woman stirred large, colorful balls of cereal in a concoction of liquid nitrogen that produced a fog-like effect. It was like watching the witches of “Hocus Pocus” brew a poison potion in a stainless steel cauldron. This was Dragon’s Breath, one of the newest offerings at the Big E, and by far one of the flashiest. It works like this: Giant multi-color cereal-like puffs are frozen in liquid nitrogen and served over ice cream. The ice cream is really secondary. Christopher hesitantly took a bite of a frozen cereal ball, expecting that his gums would burn or that he’d turn into a toad. Instead, when he spoke, a steady stream of liquid nitrogen vapors came out of his mouth and nose. A crowd gathered as he ate, and more nitro-fog-witch vapors were released. When he was halfway through the fruity-tasty liquid nitrogen treat, people applauded when the vapors were released. “Shouldn’t I get a commission for this?,” he asked. Err, evidently not.
Seventh course: Fluffy’s strawberry lemonade doughnut
Fluffy’s travels the country serving yeast-raised doughnuts. Why try their glazed or cinnamon offerings when we could have a doughnut topped with lemon buttercream, rolled in strawberry lemonade crunch, and garnished with a freeze-dried strawberry, lemon gummy candy, and little plastic pipette filled with strawberry lemonade? “You can squeeze the lemonade into the doughnut, you can drink the lemonade, you can squirt each other with it, whatever you want,” the gentlemen of the doughnut shop gleefully instructed. We squeezed. The confection, a delirious doughnutscape of yellow and pink nubbles set in a thick rime of canary frosting, became even lemon strawberrier, even sweeter. Just when you thought it was impossible! The lightly soaked texture actually worked, a la tres leches cake. We followed it with a glazed doughnut coffee float, and our feet are probably never touching the ground again.
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Wine o’ clock break
Hopped up on an ungodly amount of sugar from the mammoth doughnuts and feeling like we deserved a break from eating, Christopher spotted the trés classy Big E Wine Cafe and dragged Devra inside. The cafe serves vino from wineries across New England, including apple cider doughnut wine (no more doughnuts, please!). We opted for the simple pleasures of rosé and Seyval blanc from Mineral Hills Winery in Northampton and indulged in the sport of Big E people-watching. Someone even told us to “have a Big E day!” We had no idea what that meant, but we were having the Biggest E day imaginable as we morphed into the Big We.
Eighth course: Monstah Mozz
We didn’t eat nearly enough items on sticks at the Big E, thinking we’d “come back to” the tempting Pickle on a Stick we spotted early on. Turns out there’s rarely any coming back to things at the sprawling Big E: If you want it, get it then and there. So when we saw cheese on a stick, we seized the moment. This year a stand named Hot Wisconsin Cheese (could be a Big E vendor, could be a jam band) added something called the Monstah Mozz to its menu. It’s shaped like a baked potato, but this fried mahogany monster is a gob o’ mozzarella. We bit in, hoping for a superior cheese pull, but it only yielded medium stretch. We dipped the mild cheese hopefully in the marinara, which added some zip. We are all for innovation, but next time we’d sample the jalapeno cheddar strips or the original menu item, a chunk of Swiss in rye batter.
Ninth course: Maple bacon hot dog
It sounded like a gimmick. A gimmick we had to order. For journalism! To our surprise, this gilded lily from Ferrindino Maple in Hampden was genuinely delicious. The snappy beef hot dog was topped with chopped bacon candied in maple, the combination perfectly savory and sweet. Would eat again. The Ferrindino folk have a knack for crafting delicacies that feature their core product — elsewhere they apparently sell maple creemee cannoli, which proved as elusive as Keyser Söze during our visit.
Tenth course: Turkey leg
Throughout the day, we continually batted around the idea of eating a giant turkey leg. Why? Because it seems like something one should do at the Big E, especially if they’re having a Big E day. Christopher gamely stepped up to the challenge. Unfortunately, the turkey leg was a bit dry and tasted like ham. But does anyone buy a giant turkey leg because they’re hungry? Absolutely not. It’s a fairground fashion accessory and symbol of culinary superiority.
Eleventh course: Birria vampiros
Vendor Macho Taco was new to the Big E this year, and the line was long. We learned from our baked potato experience: When we find a long line at the Big E, we join it. Also when we find birria tacos, we order them. After a wait, we received two tacos, exteriors crispy with griddled cheese, interiors stuffed with tender shredded beef, plus a little cup of broth to dip them in. Cheesy! Crispy! Savory! Juicy! There is no official explanation for why these emo tacos that wear their cheese on the outside are called vampiros, only many theories; all we can say is they didn’t suck. One of the rare Big E treats we’d be likely to eat in our normal lives, rather than only at the surreal funhouse carny regional pride buffet that is this multi-state fair.
Birch beer break
After dismissing the offerings at the Connecticut state building earlier in the day, we found something worthwhile. Delicious, old-timey birch beer from Papas Connecticut Mountain Brew. OK, Connecticut, you done good kid.
Twelfth course: New Hampshire macaroni and cheese
It was getting dark, and it felt as if we had seen everything until we realized we had forgotten to visit the New Hampshire state building. Egads. We would have missed it completely had it not been for a long line of hungry fairgoers seeking mac and cheese. It seems that mac and cheese is to New Hampshire what baked potatoes are to Maine. This was news to Big E stalwart Christopher, who immediately got in line to see what he’d been missing all these years. This pasta was swimming in cheesy, gooey deliciousness. What was the blend of cheeses used? No one would tell him. When asked, their lips were sealed tighter than the Go-Go’s. Note to self: Skip the turkey leg next year and head for the mac and cheese.
Thirteenth course: Maine lobster roll
Maine lobster is the best lobster; Maine lobster rolls are the best lobster rolls. In the Maine building of the Big E, the good women behind the Fresh Maine Lobster Rolls counter were serving them. At $22, this was perhaps the best money we spent all day (according to lobster lover Devra, if not lobster loather Christopher), just a few bucks more than an order of New Hampshire mac and cheese and significantly less than the going rate around Boston. The lobster was super fresh, the mayo barely there, the toasted roll filled with a nice portion of meat in big, generous pieces. No frills here, just a solid lobster roll and a real Maine vibe.
Fourteenth course: Maple milkshake
Realizing he hadn’t had dessert yet, at least not since the Dragon’s Breath and doughnuts, Christopher headed back to the Maine State Building for a maple milkshake. An experienced Big E attendee knows that maple is an essential source of energy for hot tub shopping. “I think we’ve burned off enough calories by all this walking. I deserve this,” he said to Devra. “We’d need to walk to California, and it still wouldn’t be enough,” she replied.
Dessert: Big E cream puffs
And then we realized we had failed to view the butter sculpture-in-progress at the opposite end of the fairground. “I’m not coming all this way and not seeing a butter sculpture!,” Christopher declared, getting his 78th wind after his 78th Diet Coke. After hoofing it all the way there and back, we had energy for exactly one more thing (and it wasn’t clam stuffies, sorry, Rhode Island). Cream puffs, please. Whatever else happened at the Big E, we knew we had to end the day with the fair’s signature item. Why are the Big E cream puffs so famous? No one really knows, and who were we to question tradition?
We ordered our cream puffs to go. “For later,” we swore solemnly.
Later, it turned out, was five minutes after we walked through our respective front doors. “I am hungry. I haven’t eaten in 45 minutes!,” Christopher texted. “I already ate a cream puff bite,” Devra replied.
The Big E runs through Sept. 29. For more information, go to www.thebige.com.
Devra First can be reached at devra.first@globe.com. Follow her @devrafirst. Christopher Muther can be reached at christopher.muther@globe.com. Follow him @Chris_Muther and Instagram @chris_muther.