I have been making it to the farm every weekend since I got well enough to travel. This past Friday, I called my neighbor, Blacksmith to see what he was up to. He was over in the county seat, having tea with the nice ladies at the Hysterical Society. He said the market in Berlin was open again, and said we should meet there for a pizza. Just so you know, that’s Berlin like in “Merlin,” not like that city in Germany.

Before I get on to describing things, I want to mention that I do not want this post to be construed as a dig at any of the various other places I frequent. The other establishments in Bracken and Pendleton Counties are all fine places with good food and decent service. I did not want to walk into Mister Browning’s store in a few days and get the stink eye.

To get this in proper context, I will have to do some explaining. You see, our camp is somewhat off the beaten path. We’re about midway between Brooksville, Falmouth and Milford. It is a half-hour any way you chose to get to a restaurant serving a meal or a grocery store where you can buy a gallon of milk or anything resembling a gas pump. When we first moved in 20-some years ago, we had Figgins Market in Berlin. If Figgins could solve a particular hankering for the aforementioned necessities, it cut the distance in half. Figgins sold out shortly after our arrival and the place changed hands several times before closing for good a few years ago.

This left a huge hole in our deer camp’s logistics. There is only so many minutes between the last light of legal hunting and the time normal establishments close for the night. If we have a deer to drop off at the processor we have to truck our buns smartly or find things closed. The location at Berlin was great, because we could call ahead and get a pizza or some steak hoagies and then show up a few minutes before closing to get them. It was also a great place to go out for a late breakfast or lunch on the days we were not inclined to cook. All that went into a cocked hat a couple of years ago when the last owner shuttered the door on the market and Berlin became just another piece of crooked road between Lenoxburg and Willow.

I have been watching the store since before Turkey Season slowly get itself going. It was a massive undertaking. They left the four walls and the roof, but the rest got replaced entirely. Blacksmith and I arrived to find everything bright and shiny. We sat down and ordered one of the Hunt Brothers pizza– all extra items are free. I have to admit that the pizza that showed up was a bit better than the ones we’ve been driving twice as far to get in Falmouth. The owners said they were cranking up their breakfasts for the first time Saturday morning, and we vowed to return.

You’re going to press me as to whose goetta, whose biscuits and gravy and whose coffee is the best. I ain’t going to say. I know Misses Browning goes to a lot of trouble making her biscuits, and I have dreamed of Donna’s Place in Brooksville and their pancakes. The Lenoxburg Store is also dear to my heart. Suffice it to say that Blacksmith and I got a superb breakfast at a reasonable price.

And you should have seen the crowd! We showed up at Berlin Basket just after 0830, and the place was packed. The entire neighborhood had turned out.

One of the chief things our deer camp has lacked has been a clean, well-lit establishment close by. Berlin Basket has finally filled that niche.

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