Great Coffee Is Elementary: Harrisburg’s coffee culture revs it up at the Broad Street Market.

January 30, 2015 | by Stephanie Kalina-Metzger

Andrea Musselman recalls her first sip of coffee at the age of 8.

The family had stopped at a convenience store while on a trip, and her dad bought a cup and passed it around.

“It was that disgusting, artificially sweet cappuccino, and I finished it all. I was bouncing off the walls for the rest of the night,” she said with a chuckle.

As she grew older, her tastes became more refined, and her quest for the perfect cup intensified. When she left home to attend college, she began brewing coffee in her dorm room.

As she recalls her relationship with her favorite libation, her eyes light up.

“I love everything about it—the packaging, the warm mugs, the taste, the smell, just everything,” said Musselman.

After graduation, the Harrisburg resident pursued her passion by joining the team at St. Thomas Roasters in Linglestown.

“They created a position for me, so that was exciting because they never taught anyone to roast there before,” she said.

The businesswoman spent three years honing her craft at the small coffee shop before deciding that it was time to spread her wings. She crafted a business plan and chose the Broad Street Market as her base of operations for her new company, Elementary Coffee.

“I wanted to do something for myself—interacting with people and promoting my product. Ashlee Dugan took over as the new [market] manager in June, and she is re-envisioning the market and bringing in new vendors. I think it’s a low-risk venture that is community-oriented, and it’s a great way to meet a variety of people,” she said.

Today, Musselman continues her relationship with St. Thomas Roasters, using their beans and roasting them according to her own style. “I am testing out some milder blends at the moment and, as I build up more interest, I want to start purchasing my own beans, working with the wholesaler,” she said.

For brewing, Musselman uses a Chemex Coffee Maker developed by chemist Peter J. Schlumbohm in 1941.

“It’s an individual pour-over method that’s all about control. It’s going back to basics where coffee is presented in a very manual form,” said Musselman, who eschews automatic drip coffeemakers, which she says produce a substandard product resulting in a flatter, sometimes bitter and less full-bodied flavor.

Each week, Musselman features three different coffees from regions around the world.

“I like African coffees and typically try to feature one from South America, Africa and Indonesia,” she said.

She also offers her own creation—a latte-based coffee flavored with cardamom and maple syrup called “Abacas.”

“It’s like a latte version of Turkish coffee, and it’s gaining in popularity, which is exciting because it’s something I developed,” she said.

Musselman prefers to keep it simple, hence the name Elementary, so there aren’t many food offerings at her stand. “I prefer to focus on the coffee,” she said.

But, for those seeking a little treat to pair with their java, she offers the artisanal chocolate of Frederic Loraschi. Based in Hummelstown, Loraschi has been wowing customers with his high-end chocolate creations for years and has created a mocha mix that Musselman uses for her hot chocolate.

“I was looking for a good mocha powder and found he had a hot chocolate mix that’s amazingly rich and decadent,” she said.

And, for those in the mood for something just a little different, Musselman offers Stroopwafels, too. Stroopwafels, or “Stroopies,” hail from the Netherlands, and the round waffles with the caramel center fit nicely atop a steaming hot mug.

“I found this place in Lancaster that makes them,” said Musselman, who grills the gluten-free treats onsite.

Musselman is expanding her business by partnering with Harrisburg resident Brad Moyer, a brewer at Bube’s Brewery in Mount Joy. He, along with his assistant, Steve Nott of Linglestown, searched for a local roaster and were impressed with Musselman’s expertise. They shared their techniques, joining together for the perfect pairing.

“When we started, we were putting the coffee beans in the beer and letting them soak for a week or so. Andrea came up with a better way. She suggested that we cold brew the coffee, filter out the grounds and then take the concentrated product and pump it into the tanks,” said Moyer, who reports that Elementary Espresso Stout has been popular with patrons and sales have been brisk.

“Our collaboration has worked out well due to the harmonious blend of knowledge about two artisanal crafts,” he said.

As for the future, the wheels are turning in Musselman’s head as she thinks of new ways to get the word out about her coffee. She’s toying with a few ideas, like offering “flights” of coffee, where customers will have the opportunity to try several small cups and learn more about each selection. For now, however, she’s been satisfied at how well things are going since opening in November.

“It’s good to be part of the community, and I think it’s headed in the right direction,” she said.

Elementary Coffee Co. is located inside the brick building of the Broad Street Market in Harrisburg. For more information, including weekly featured brews, visit their Facebook page at Elementary Coffee Co.

Pulling Back the Curtain: Harrisburg native writes, speaks on slavery, racism in her city.

January 30, 2015 | by M. Diane McCormick

Marian Cannon stood on “the big stage.”

Her spelling prowess carried her there as one of two students representing the 13 sections of eighth graders in the Camp Curtin Middle School spelling bee. The principal, acting as moderator, gave the word “catarrh.” The old-fashioned term for flu knocked out a huge percentage of kids.

“People were dropping like flies,” she said.

Then Marian took her turn.

C-A-T-A-R-R-H.

“And there was this long moment of silence,” Marian Cannon Dornell recalls now, decades later. “What happened next, I have never heard of before. The principal called back all the kids who had been knocked out.”

But the principal could try only so many end runs around the black girl who knew how to spell the hardest words.

“I went on to win that spelling bee,” Dornell says, “and I still have that gold medal from Merriam-Webster.”

It took a book of poetry, 10 years in the making, to help erase the legacy of bitterness from constant racist treatment—the segregated soda fountain, the segregated YMCA, getting cast as the laundress in school plays—that Dornell experienced during her Harrisburg childhood. Now, her book, “Unicorn in Captivity,” will be released at a Feb. 11 YWCA event examining poetry and perspectives on race in Harrisburg.

Reaching Out

Dornell was born in Harrisburg Hospital in 1939 to “sheltering, nurturing parents” who were “very conservative and very protective.”

“They made sure I knew the positive impact African Americans made on history,” she says.

Many of Dornell’s poems, to be shared and discussed at the YWCA event, pull back the curtain on the history of slavery in Harrisburg. One poem, “Naomi’s Harvest,” is set at Fort Hunter, the narrative of a woman harvesting fragrant herbs that she can’t smell but that, nonetheless, bring back memories of the mother she was torn from at a Philadelphia slave market.

A Penn State poetry professor introduced Dornell to an Altoona poet who mentored her. Dornell used poetry as a tool to “forgive Harrisburg for treating a nice girl like me in such a callous way.” She and her husband, Edwin, had been away from Harrisburg for much of their careers—his in public health, hers in nursing after their five children “left the nest.” They returned to the area recently, now living in retirement at Bethany Village.

“I reached out to Harrisburg, and Harrisburg reached out to me,” Dornell says.

Through historian George Nagle, she learned of Fort Hunter’s slavery legacy and its nearby African-American cemetery. Fort Hunter officials staged a walk to the peaceful graveyard, where Dornell read “Naomi’s Harvest” to “100 people of all ages and all races. That’s when I knew I had to forgive because people are hungry for these experiences.”

To Better Understand

Dornell says she can see “that things have improved so much” in her hometown, what with Nathaniel Gadsden’s Writers Wordshops and Jump Street “creating energy and stuff for young people to do,” and Midtown Scholar Bookstore providing “another safe place” and the YWCA with its mission of eliminating racism and empowering women.

Dornell’s appearance at the YWCA dovetails with its mission year-round—not just Black History Month, says Racial Justice Program Coordinator Amanda Arbour.

“The struggles that we have today with race and racism are so much built up on the history of our city and nation,” Arbour says. “It’s vital that we explore and learn and understand what that history is in order to better understand.”

Dornell has “always loved words.” She’s nervous about making herself vulnerable by doing readings about race, but, through her poems, she hopes to provide a platform and the language for discussing topics that some consider taboo.

“I like to take words and thoughts down to their lowest common denominator, but I’m interested in how one uses language to rhyme it, to put it in a rhythm, to spell things out with people,” she says.

If people are to shed fear and to stop categorizing others, it’s essential to understand the “living history” of slavery and racism, Dornell says. Perpetuating and handing down the fear of an African-American man walking down the street or of rap artists “speaking their own truth about life as a black” is “still a form of enslavement.”

“I use history as a way of documenting the way it was, and then I use my conversation to say that we may not be enslaving people in such a way as we own other people, but we deny them rights,” she says. “We deny them a place in the community because of our fear.”

Arbour agrees that exploring the history of slavery helps reveal the root causes of racism and ongoing tension around such incidents as the shooting of Michael Brown in Ferguson, Mo.

“Racism is always present, even though it’s under the surface,” Arbour says. “When things like that happen, that just brings it out. White people, in particular, don’t talk enough about race. It’s an educational opportunity for everyone to learn about our history.”

Through her poetry, Dornell wants to expose readers and listeners to “the links between the history and the legacy and the choices they make today.”

“It’s a different way of using art and history as a way to encourage people to think about their actions and their thoughts every day regarding race, racism and justice,” she says.

The book launch and lecture, “Unicorn in Captivity: Poetry & Perspectives on Race in Harrisburg,” by Marian Cannon Dornell will be held on Feb. 11 at 5:30 p.m., with light refreshments at 5 p.m., at the YWCA Greater Harrisburg, 1101 Market St., Harrisburg. The snow date is Feb. 24. Visit www.ywcahbg.com.

Judgment Call: Before condemning Harrisburg, opinion-writers might want to pick up the phone.

January 30, 2015 | by J. Alex Hartzler

In case you missed it, I took a month off from my publisher’s column to start 2015, in favor of Paul Barker’s excellent analysis of the research skills that are a necessary part of honest and engaged journalism. Apparently, though, local media took little notice of Paul’s story.

Instead, our area’s largest paper started off 2015 where it left off in 2014—with a continued assault on all things Harrisburg, this time with claims about a supposed negative business climate.

In an editorial, PennLive’s opinion-writers attempted to link three unrelated decisions, two of which took place at least two years apart and one that has been under discussion for decades. The first, Harrisburg City Council’s refusal to sell the Keystone Products building on Cameron Street to Appalachian Brewing Co. (ABC) for $1, took place in 2012 under the Thompson administration.

The second was the Harrisburg Zoning Hearing Board’s December 2014 refusal to grant a variance to a proposed distillery in Midtown. (See Larry Binda’s Jan. 7 blog post at www.theburgnews.com.)

The final knock was directed at Mayor Papenfuse and the fulfillment of his campaign promise to update the city zoning code. The zoning code update had, in fact, been in process for decades under three administrations and countless reviews.

From these unrelated stories, the writers concluded that Harrisburg was hostile to entrepreneurship and that somehow Mayor Papenfuse and other city officials were to blame. This argument struck me as contrary to my observations and experience over the past year. So, taking Paul’s advice, I did a bit of research and called the affected parties.

First, I spoke to Adam Meinstein who owns Transit Park on the site of the old U.S. Post Office. Adam said he is “thrilled” with his investment in Harrisburg, has more than 450 daily users of his “low-cost” commuter lot (mostly Amtrak commuters) and is expanding capacity to nearly 900 spots, some of which will be under cover. In addition, he has active interest from commercial/industrial tenants for the renovated building on his site. His initial concern with the new zoning code involved a technical matter that his current use is permitted as a “pre-existing condition” and not as a “right” under the code that could theoretically impact value down the road. Nonetheless, the code does not impede his current business, his plans for further investment or his enthusiasm for his first time doing business in our city.

Next, I spoke to Alan Kennedy-Shaffer about his plans for a distillery. Not unexpectedly, Alan and his partner were not pleased with the zoning board’s decision, but Alan said that he remains personally “as committed as ever” to Harrisburg. Knowing Alan’s commitment to the city, my guess is that he will keep working hard on his plans and try to come back again at another city location.

I also spoke to a member of the zoning board who confirmed Larry’s reporting that—far from a rash rejection of the distillery—the board (made up of citizen volunteers) stressed their duty for a thorough review to make sure that the plans comply with the law. They encouraged the pair to re-submit their plans with additional detail with the hope for an eventual approval at the proposed site or another.

Finally, the 2012 ABC issue revolved around the value of a parcel of real estate. Regardless of past decisions by former government officials, the Papenfuse administration confirmed to me that it is now willing to sell the property for $1. City economic development officials and the mayor also told me that they are in active discussions with ABC about jointly seeking outside grants for the necessary site work and expanding their brewing operations, something that would create “scores of jobs” if successful.

I find it ridiculous to pin a two-year-old decision on the new mayor or new council. Moreover, editorial writers should realize that a business that starts in the city and then expands to the suburbs (like ABC) is not a sign of city weakness, but can be (and in this case is) the sign of a strong brand being built here and then taken on the road to greater heights for the mutual benefit of both.

There are many other signs of robust entrepreneurial spirit throughout the city.

Just to the north of ABC at Cameron and Herr streets, Moran Industries stepped in last year to buy a building on a formerly failed development site. Moran is now investing millions to finish the building and grounds, turning a former eyesore into a handsome new operating complex for its trucking and logistics business.

Likewise, since the Papenfuse administration took office last January, there are at least five new restaurants representing several million dollars in total new investment throughout the city (underscoring also that the new parking rates have had little impact in the decision-making of new restaurant openings).

One of these is Josh Kesler’s complete renovation of the long-vacant Millworks building across from the Broad Street Market. Josh told me that the Millworks will house 23 artist workspaces, a new indoor/outdoor beer garden and farm-to-table restaurant when it opens in early March.

Several other new businesses with good paying jobs, such as WebpageFX, have moved their employees into the city. Co-owner Bill Craig said that his move to the city has greatly helped with recruiting. He said he’s received about 500 more applications for his rapidly growing company, up 20 percent from the year before.

“We grew 50 percent last year, so finding technical marketing talent is one of our keys to maintaining our current growth trajectory,” Craig told me. “Many of the applicants are from other cities and from outside of central PA, which we would not have received if we didn’t move to Harrisburg.”

The company has grown tremendously since its move just 11 months ago, and the 70-plus employees “love the city,” Craig said.

Demand for apartments and condos is also rising. Brickbox opened its new for-sale condos at LUX (3^rd and State streets) and is more than half sold out. WCI Partners (where I am a partner) has noticed increased demand for apartments and townhomes and a new willingness on the part of many people to “give the city another try” after moving out during the Thompson administration, in the words of several of our new residents.

Much more remains to be done, and a half-century of population decline will not be reversed quickly or without great effort or smart policies that encourage investment. However, this renewed enthusiasm points to business confidence in the Papenfuse administration.

A modest suggestion for those who get paid to give opinion about the city would be to actually talk to business owners before writing about city business. It may just give pause enough before reflexively propagating inaccuracies about our little city from across the river.

J. Alex Hartzler is publisher of TheBurg.

A Time for Tuna: Even without meat, you can enjoy a good Italian meal during Lent.

January 30, 2015 | by Rosemary Ruggieri Baer

As I write this column, Christmas seems like just yesterday, yet now we are facing Lent. How can this be? For many, the season of Lent carries with it some culinary traditions or, some may say, “restrictions”: fasting, giving up a favorite food or drink and meatless Fridays.

At the Ruggieri house, Friday meals in Lent were pretty grim—at least in my then-childish view. But today, many of these same foods are not only popular but considered “high-end.” Lentils made a frequent appearance for our meatless Fridays, simply boiled in salt water, placed in a soup bowl, and drizzled with a little olive oil. Served with crusty Italian bread, it was truly peasant fare. Or we might have been served chickpeas (my mother called them ceci’s) mixed with some elbow macaroni. I missed meat!

In Italy, the season of Lent, preceded by the winter celebration of Carnivale (much like our Mardi Gras) is a time of austerity. A lot of Italian Catholics eat no meat at all during Lent, while others abstain only on Ash Wednesday and Fridays. So, while searching for meatless dinner alternatives during Lent and other times, I have “discovered” and fallen in love with Italian tuna.

Authentic Italian tuna, which is available in cans or glass jars, is considered “light tuna” rather than white or albacore tuna. My favorite is made by Flott, which can be obtained online or in Italian specialty stores. This is yellow-fin tuna. While expensive, it has a richness and depth of flavor that can’t be found in most supermarket brands. Paired with some sliced tomatoes, a few capers and Italian bread, it can even be lunch right out of the jar.

I have a favorite tuna pasta recipe that is one of my “Thursday night specials”: a nutritious late-week meal made entirely with pantry ingredients when the refrigerator and freezer are getting bare. It works in the winter as a heated dish but also can be turned into a chilled pasta salad in the summer. And, depending on what I have available, the recipe varies. I try to use good, imported tuna but, if you prefer, you can use a well-known grocery store brand. Make sure you find one that is packed in olive oil (Bumble Bee makes a fairly good product). Tuna packed in water will not do!

Here is my tuna pasta, winter version, a great dish for Lent or anytime.

Ingredients

10 to 12 oz Italian tuna packed in olive oil
½ medium sweet onion, chopped into medium dice
1 or 2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 ½ cups cannelloni beans, rinsed and drained
½ cup sliced black olives (Greek, Nicoise, etc.)
¼ to ½ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
Lemon juice from ½ lemon
¼ cup olive oil
¼ to ½ cup finely minced Italian parsley
½ pound pasta, cooked al dente, any shape you like
Salt and pepper to taste

Recipe

Heat the olive oil in a 10-to-12-inch sauté pan and cook the chopped onion until gold in color and translucent. Add the minced garlic and red pepper flakes and cook just for a minute.
Add the rinsed cannelloni beans, the olives and the tuna, gently stirring to combine (the tuna should remain in fairly large chunks).
Remove from heat and keep warm.
When the pasta is done, remove ½ cup pasta cooking water before draining.
Place the pasta in a large bowl and add the tuna mixture, combining all with a large spoon.
Sprinkle the juice of ½ lemon and the minced parsley over the pasta and toss again.
Add salt and pepper to taste.
If the pasta needs more moisture, add a little of the pasta cooking water or extra olive oil. I usually add more red pepper flakes on my portion.

This pasta dish is so good with warm, crusty Italian bread. And you can be creative by adding other ingredients like chopped roasted red peppers, capers or halved cherry tomatoes. If you’re able to find imported Italian tuna, I hope you will try it. As with all cooking, the quality of the ingredients makes such a difference.

The quiet, reflective period of Lent has its place in our lives. But, if you make this pasta dish on one of those meatless Fridays, it will not feel like a sacrifice.

To Books . . . and Beyond: Floyd Stokes may have retired his cape, but the SuperReader lives on.

January 30, 2015 | by M. Diane McCormick

SuperReader’s origins weren’t very superhero-like.

He wasn’t jettisoned from an exploding bookstore, bitten by a spider that crawled from an unabridged dictionary, or endowed with great wealth after the death of librarian parents in a tragic bookslide.

SuperReader was born in 2000 because Floyd Stokes wanted to do something with kids. He was running a music business in Carlisle and deeply involved in community causes—too many to have a real impact, he realized.

“I wanted to focus on the importance of education, so I narrowed it down to reading,” Stokes says. “I wanted to create a character who would stand for something positive and tell kids they could start using their brains.”

And so along came SuperReader, in blue cape and yellow mask, encouraging pre-K and elementary students to read books.

Today, SuperReader has hung up his tights, but his alter ego Stokes has evolved into a children’s book author and a force for literacy throughout central Pennsylvania and nationwide.

He founded and directs the American Literacy Corp., which designs supplemental literacy programs that promote the importance of reading. Through family festivals, 15 published books and counting and the annual 500 Men Reading Day, Stokes and the ALC have created a reading culture that attracts devoted fans and supporters.

Stokes started writing books because SuperReader’s presentations involved fairy-tale skits that students would stage. Always seeking feedback, Stokes heard from a teacher who asked why the skits didn’t include a literacy element. A light bulb went off. The boy who cried wolf suddenly did so because he ran out of books and got bored. Goldilocks tried reading Papa Bear’s book first, but it was too hard. Then she read Mama Bear’s love story, but it was too mushy.

“Everybody always cracked up at that,” Stokes says now. “The next book was on her level. She could read it. It was just right.”

The skits became books that Stokes published and began to read for the kids. But, by 2008, he still felt that one guy, promoting literacy on his own, couldn’t do enough. He remembered all the encouragement he got as a boy, an African-American kid growing up in Mississippi, and wanted to “create an opportunity for men to get some face time with children, so children will see one more positive role model.”

“For some reason, I came into contact with a lot of people who believed in me,” Stokes recalls. “It was confusing, but the encouragement I received fueled me. Those positive contacts motivated me to want to reach higher and do more and be the best person I could be.”

Of course, recruiting other men to read to classrooms meant asking them to do something very scary—“as scary as the scariest Halloween costume out there.”

So, Stokes created 100 Men Reading, building strength in numbers by bringing together men to read to classrooms in school-wide events. As more and more men signed on, the event became 500 Men Reading, spanning a week in March, in Harrisburg-area schools and in York.

George Nahodil co-chaired 500 Men Reading in 2013 and 2014. Nahodil, the Members 1^st executive vice president for retail delivery and marketing, met Stokes through financial literacy events and thought, “Wow, this is pretty awesome.”

“He was so passionate about reading to the kids, preaching the gospel of literacy,” Nahodil says. “You gotta read. You gotta learn to read. You gotta educate yourself.”

Nahodil is a former high school teacher, but he jokingly thanked Stokes for assigning him to read, not to cute second-graders, but to middle school students “taller than I am.” They asked questions about his job, his salary and his career path.

“The kids were awesome,” Nahodil said.

When students are exposed to adults “from all walks of life and all different career types,” who stress that they owe their jobs to their reading abilities, they realize that it’s not just their teachers who want them to read, Nahodil says.

“When they’re looking at you and really digesting what you’re saying, then you’re definitely having an impact,” Nahodil says. “These kids want to be successful. They want to do well. To me, if Floyd changes one kid’s life, it’s worth it.”

Stokes also teaches parents around Philadelphia, Pittsburgh and Schuylkill County how to bring reading into the home. It’s part of the National Institutes of Health’s massive National Children’s Study, a longitudinal study tracking the well-being of children from birth through age 21.

“I’m grateful for this opportunity to reach parents and to share my passion for reading to children and just teaching the lessons learned throughout the years, and not just from reading to schoolchildren, but reading to my children,” he says. “I’m a parent, and that’s the angle that I share from.”

Harrisburg School District Superintendent Sybil Knight-Burney says she so loves Stokes that she will “stop, drop and read” whenever he calls. It’s not just about 500 Men, with “all of these multi-racial, multi-colored, multi-talented men” coming to city schools, jumpstarting conversations about reading and life goals, she says. It’s about Stokes himself, who has adopted a third-grade class and will help whenever the district needs it—for instance, soliciting food donations to feed volunteers building a new playground.

“It’s a wonderful thing to see African-American men and an African-American man who’s taken on literacy, where so many kids don’t know the importance of reading,” says Knight-Burney. “They see it through him, and he lives it and breathes it 24 hours a day.”

An emphasis on literacy helps the district raise achievement rates, Knight-Burney says. Many students start school far behind in grade level, so they need to be encouraged that “even though it may seem difficult to do, once you master reading, the more you do it, the more you want to do it,” she says. “That’s the message that Floyd gives. As many different entities as that message can come from, it helps. It’s all around. It’s pervasive.”

For the future, Stokes expects to “just do more of what we’re doing. Try to learn as much as possible how to reach children and get them on the right path and developing a love of reading. That, to me, is more important than teaching kids to read early.”

And the now-retired SuperReader? He accomplished the mission he was put on earth to do. As Stokes walks around town, people still call him SuperReader. Many don’t know his name, “and that’s fine.”

“When they see me now, they know what I stand for, and it’s reading,” Stokes says. “It’d be hard to think of me and not think of reading. That was intentional.”

Learn more about the American Literacy Corp. at www.superreader.org.

Beer Magic: For the Sons of Alchemy, the joy isn’t just in drinking beer, but making it.

January 30, 2015 | by Andrew Dyrli Hermeling

For the uninitiated, the idea of a homebrew club may seem a little curious.

It may sound like just an excuse to hang out with your friends and drink beer.

Indeed, drinking beer is a happy consequence of being in the Harrisburg-area club. But, for the Sons of Alchemy (SoA), participation means much more than just hanging out.

“A club provides unique opportunities for group projects that would be either too expensive or impractical for an individual brewer to undertake,” said Matthew Miller, who maintains SoA’s social media connections.

Case in point: As a member of the club, I got to attend the final stage of a bourbon barrel-aged Russian imperial stout project that SoA tackled as a group.

Using membership dues, the club purchased a used bourbon barrel that had been previously employed by Victory Brewing Co. to age a specialty release. Bourbon barrels hold 55 gallons of liquid, which is way more than the reasonable home brewer could make on his or her own.

So, instead, 11 members brewed their own 5-gallon batch of Russian imperial stout. There were no rules about the ingredients—each batch just had to satisfy the specific guidelines for the style. All 11 beers were then blended and left to age for eight months.

Next, we emptied the barrel, with each participant receiving about what they put in (some beer is lost in the process). And of course, we all tasted samples of the fruits of our labor.

But beyond tackling larger projects, SoA also takes the science of brewing seriously.

Of all of SoA’s members, Miller exemplifies this quality best. A pharmacist with a background in organic chemistry and microbiology, he takes the same exacting approach to his brewing. His dedication has earned him the nickname Dr. Lambic, a style of beer spontaneously fermented using wild yeasts and bacteria. For him, it was important to collaborate with others who brew the same way.

“A brewing club is an opportunity for home brewers to both learn and teach, as well as improve their craft,” said Miller. “I wanted to join a club that was small but with a high level of brewing skill and knowledge.”

Jake Kustan, the club’s treasurer, is equally meticulous. A control systems engineer by trade, he takes the brewing process very seriously.

“I was curious about the individual components, as well as the processes used to make beer,” stated Kustan. “My curiosity led to obsession as I attempted to re-create my favorite brands, as well as seek out new flavors and experiences. Replicating the processes found in professional brewing systems made it all that more fun for me.”

Don’t get me wrong. SoA is not a meeting of mad scientists who just want to spend time in a lab. They know how to crack open a cold one and enjoy their time together. They just also enjoy nerding out over how it is made.

“SoA was created out of the need for a local homebrew club that went far beyond the social aspect of a brew club,” stated Kustan. “We also desired hardcore knowledge along with a little competition.”

SoA has begun taking this desire for competition more seriously. The club has started selecting individual brewers to go head to head, each brewing a batch of a particular style to be judged at a future meeting. The club as a whole has also begun issuing friendly challenges to other area brew clubs.

In addition, they have other projects in mind. I asked both Miller and Kustan what projects they would like to tackle next.

“I am excited to see the club try their hand at barrel-aged sour beers,” said Miller.

Kustan agreed: “A sour barrel project.”

I guess we know what that now-empty bourbon barrel is going to be used for next.

Read more about the Sons of Alchemy at www.sonsofalchemy.org.

A Thing about Love: A lifetime together, on Muench Street.

January 30, 2015 | by Paul Barker

In March 1946, Clayton Carelock left Fort Meade, Md., and returned to the home he grew up in, at 320 Ridge St. in Steelton. Carelock had been drafted in July 1943, a month after graduating Steelton High. His mother, a housekeeper and cook, had died while he was in the service, a few days before Christmas, 1944. She was buried next to his father, a steel worker and veteran of World War I, in Midland Cemetery.

A block away from the house on Ridge Street was Watson’s, a house that sold candy, soda and hot dogs from an enclosed porch. It was there, on a Sunday after he’d come home, that Carelock met Clementine Epps, a recent graduate of William Penn High School who had come down with her friends from Harrisburg. “One thing led on to another,” as Carelock now recalls, and, in February 1947, they were married.

This month, the Carelocks mark their 68^th wedding anniversary. Since 1956, they’ve lived in the same Muench Street home, where they raised a son, on a block that now carries a high proportion of handicap-reserved spaces. Not so in the old days—as Clayton tells it, the plow came rarely back then, and the men would shovel out the block together whenever it snowed. Most of those neighbors have since passed, and, though they’re friendly with some of the new ones, “We don’t have that kind of cooperation now that we had then,” he says.

On a recent afternoon, Clayton sat on a recliner in a tracksuit and sneakers, a cane close at hand. Over his shoulder, on a raised bed, lay Clementine, asleep under a white blanket. In 1955, they learned she had a brain tumor. “When she’d go to sit down, she’d miss the chair,” he recalled. Her mother, who “had a good bit of influence over her,” talked her into having an operation in South Carolina, where she was born. An eighth of an inch more of tumor growth, the doctors told him, and she wouldn’t have been able to speak again.

Still, until recent years, she was getting around well. Their house on Muench had a pool table on the third floor, and, after the operation, Clementine would bake sticky buns for the neighborhood guys who came over to shoot pool. Twice, they went on a Caribbean cruise. But, Clayton said, “she’s had so many things happen to her since then.” In 2007, she fell and broke her leg, and, after that, she “didn’t come around like she usually did.” She can no longer hold a conversation, but she’ll talk to him. “Sometimes, I understand what she says, and sometimes I don’t,” he said.

Both he and Clementine worked at Olmsted Air Force Base, she as a clerk typist, he packing supplies for military personnel. When the base closed in 1969, he was moved to Mechanicsburg, where he worked his way up to an inspection supervisor. After he retired, he started driving a van for students in Susquehanna Township. “I had most of the kindergarteners,” he said. “I loved that job better than any job I had. Those kids, they made your day. You could have problems, but when you got with them, I guess you got just like they did, you know.”

In the 1970s, during the tenure of Mayor Harold Swenson and later Mayor Paul Doutrich, he was a member of the Citizens to Save Harrisburg, an anti-blight task force. “It was representatives from all over Harrisburg,” he said. “Different churches, the Jewish synagogue.” The group tried to tackle that era’s housing problem, although, as far as his own block was concerned, “the housing always wasn’t too bad.” He later joined the First Baptist Church in Steelton and was named a deacon emeritus there.

In the 1990s, he worked with Barbara Barksdale and the Friends of Midland in their efforts to restore the historic black cemetery, where many of the graves were toppled and overgrown. He served as both treasurer and researcher. “He became like the big-brother-slash-father figure for me,” said Barksdale, who still calls him for guidance now and then. “It’s hard to find men like that anymore.” She later helped him apply to the federal government for a new headstone for his father, who is one of Midland’s many interred soldiers. With his siblings, Carelock paid for a matching marker for their mother and their youngest brother, George, who died when he was only a few months old.

Through all the years, what has kept his and Clementine’s marriage strong? “A lot of people ask me,” Carelock said. “I really don’t know. I guess respect for each other.” On the coffee table were a dozen or more framed photographs—Clayton’s father in a suit, against a photo-studio backdrop; Clem as a young woman; Clayton in middle age, in a tailored suit and afro. “It looked like time just flew by.”

An earlier version of this article misspelled the name of a Middletown Air Force base. It is Olmsted Air Force Base, not Olmstead Air Force Base.

From Dumpy to Debonair: Welcome to our new men’s fashion column–and to your first pocket square.

January 30, 2015 | by Dave Marcheskie

“Man, you look great.”

Those are four words that every guy should hear. That simple phrase evokes respect, confidence and could lead to endless possibilities in work and play. Most of us want to dress well, but are either intimidated or broke—or both.

Welcome to a new quarterly column dedicated to refining your lifestyle, fellas.

My name is Dave Marcheskie, Harrisburg reporter for abc27 News. Yeah, I’m the dude who was photobombed by another dude drinking out a vase last year. At least I looked good in that viral video, right? Being on TV comes with a certain responsibility of dressing well. And, when I was 22, I finally figured that out.

Before college graduation, I turned to Maxim Magazine or FHMfor male advice because, you know, bikinis, booze and Bentleys were the only things that mattered. Growing up, suit shopping was a once-every-couple-of-years venture with my parents. The experience usually consisted of going to a mall department store and having a clerk choose an off-the-rack ‘Merica-cut that did me two sizes too big, paired with a shirt and tie resembling Regis on “Who Wants to be a Millionaire.”

Despite my unassuming appearance, I landed my first job in Greenville, N.C. I encountered more tobacco fields and Waffle Houses than I could count. I made the big time. I eagerly inked my first contract with excitement earning a cool $22,000 salary. I had a full-time, on-air gig with one suit—$#*!.

I needed to look the part using pennies. Jose Cuervo was immediately traded for Jos. A. Bank. Honestly, I couldn’t afford either. I needed something to elevate my professional plight to posh. Thus, my affinity for the pocket square was born. The reaction from co-workers, government officials and viewers led me on a path to become a “Sharp Press Man.”

The pocket square instantly upgrades any blazer or suit and completes the look. My secret: that little piece of fabric is just that—fabric. Follow me. Most retail stores sell actual pocket squares from $8 to $15. You could even throw down a hundo-spot for handcrafted pocket art from Armstrong & Wilson.

Or you could go to any place that sells bulk fabric and ask for a “quarter yard” worth of paisley-print silk and walk out with 75 cents worth of sophistication.

I still rock these on a daily basis. (In full disclosure, I have amassed an extensive collection over the years of all-priced pocket squares, even those $90 A&W bad boys I received for free after winning a style contest.)

Using my secret, price should no longer be a factor. Selecting which colors and fabrics depends on a few basic principles. If you are going sans tie, you have more freedom in the color/pattern department. If you have a basic wool suit or blazer, go with shiny silk in the fall and winter, linen or cotton for spring and summer. Patterned pocket squares work best with solid suits and vice versa.

If you’re wearing a tie, there’s only one don’t—pre-packaged hanky-and-tie combos. Same goes with shirt-and-tie boxes you find nowadays, but that’s another lesson. It just looks forced.

Instead, pick a color that is either contrasting or an understated hue in your neckwear. Let’s remember your elementary school art classes. If you have a solid, dark blue tie slung around your neck, pick a green/purple/orange patterned pocket square (contrast). If you’re wearing a purple-and-blue striped tie, go with a solid purple pocket square against a blue suit (understated hue). If there are more than two colors in your tie, aim for the third or fourth dominant.

Don’t worry about crazy folds. Choose either “presidential” (think Don Draper from TV’s “Mad Men”) or “puffed” (a la Gordon Gekko from “Wall Street”). Please, keep your pocket from looking like a silky volcanic eruption. That’ll kill your look quicker than actual lava.

Simple. Clean. Details.

Treat your style like cooking: Follow a recipe but add one twist to make it your own. A pocket square is akin to a red wine reduction to chefs—basic, but it sure does heighten beef.

Style does not have to be expensive or intimidating; it just has to be yours. Take it from a TV guy who has to be camera-ready every day—details matter. Send your closet conundrums to TheBurg, and I’ll do my best to unlock your potential.

Since this inaugural column debuts around Valentine’s Day, pick a pocket square to wear on your date out. That little piece of fabric will be noticed and invite a reason for your date to touch your chest, which could lead to other invitations. If you’re single, start wearing a pocket square with your jackets and experience the difference yourself. And, if you hear a peer or an older gentleman call you “sir”—that’s the sign of respect you deserve.

This column is sponsored by and the clothes were provided by Top Shelf Menswear, 300 Bridge St., New Cumberland, 717-770-2080.

Our Sharp Press Man, Dave Marcheskie, is a reporter for abc27 News. If you’d like to ask Dave a question, please email it to [email protected]. He may use it in a future column.

To Still the Mind: Students find peace, awareness at Kundalini Yoga & Wellness.

January 30, 2015 | by Stephanie Kalina-Metzger

Ron Stabach has experienced firsthand the benefits of kundalini yoga.

The 71-year-old Camp Hill resident suffers from bouts of depression and anxiety, along with concern for his wife, who lives in a nursing home.

“I just retired and have a lot of time on my hands, so I look forward to the yoga classes,” he said, describing a “restorative bliss” class. “At the end, I felt like my hands were sinking into sand, that’s how relaxed I was.”

Stabach attends classes at Kundalini Yoga & Wellness in New Cumberland, a studio run by partners Jaque Hanson and Angela Sheaffer.

For the uninitiated, the practice combines meditation, mantra, physical exercises and breathing techniques to achieve self-awareness and mind-body balance. Practitioners tout the wellness benefits and the peacefulness achieved by mastering the ability to “still the mind.”

Stabach has also studied “emotional freedom technique” under Hanson. The technique, which involves tapping and setting intentions, has had a positive impact.

“I emerged completely energized. Before the class, I had a lot of negative junk in my head,” said Stabach, who is looking forward to bringing his 9-year-old granddaughter to the free community classes offered most Saturday mornings.

In the Beginning

Hanson felt called to the profession to help her daughter, who struggled with depression.

“It was not random,” she said. “I learned to help heal my daughter.”

The Carlisle resident is happy to report that her efforts paid off, and her daughter, Jasmin Silva, is thriving. Silva went on to study music at Berklee College of Music and has since become a Reiki master, a certified kundalini yoga instructor and a social media personality. She now spends her time speaking at colleges and is also penning a memoir.

Hanson continues in her quest to help others by providing a variety of services from her studio, often mixing treatment modalities like yoga and acupuncture to achieve desired results. Reiki, massage and essential oil workshops are just a few of the other services she offers throughout the year.

Prior to opening the wellness center, Sheaffer and Hanson practiced yoga for years, training under Siri Neel Kaur Khalsa, who was once a fixture in the New Cumberland community and owner of Avatar, a local health food store and restaurant. Kaur Khalsa studied under the famed Yogi Bhajan, who brought kundalini yoga to the United States. Before moving out of the area, she dedicated her time to training others in central Pennsylvania.

Shaeffer and Hanson began their business in the upper floor of the New Cumberland building and soon discovered that their services were in demand. They quickly outgrew the space and moved to a larger area on the lower level of the building, which needed a lot of TLC.

The women and their friends removed carpeting to expose a beautiful 100-year-old pine floor, painted the yoga room a soft yellow, which Hanson said is designed to imbue joy, and covered the walls with tapestries, some handmade by Tibetan monks. A 3-foot-tall stone fountain provides the soothing sounds of running water and is an attractive focal point in the room.

Electrified

Many students have their first exposure to the center during weekly, free 60-minute community classes.

Starting at 10 a.m. on most Saturday mornings, people enter a peaceful, quiet space, designed to help them relax and recapture their Zen to cope calmly with the challenges of day-to-day living. At any given session, you’re likely to encounter a diverse group of people from various walks of life where seasoned yoga practitioners and newbies sit side by side.

“We meet people where they are,” said Hanson.

Harrisburg resident Rebecca Moyer was first attracted to the center by a class called “Yoga for Youth and Vitality.” After attending a few classes, she was hooked.

“It made my body feel electrified—the poses, the movement, the breathing—they all worked together.”

She was so impressed that she began a teacher training program studying under the expert tutelage of Siri Neel Kaur Khalsa. “If I can help other people feel the way I feel, the world will be a better place,” she said.

Leah Barbera who has attended many classes at the center, said she has benefited physically, spiritually and emotionally.

“Kundalini yoga, in my opinion, is the best way to quiet your mind, aside from meditation,” said the Mechanicsburg resident. “It releases so many endorphins, and you feel so great that it’s almost addictive. When you master the art of breathing, you can focus on relaxing your mind.”

Shaeffer summarizes the joy she receives from running such a unique business by referring to a quote by Yogi Bhajan: “We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience, so let’s make it an enjoyable one.”

“I love how this quote sums up our mission,” she said.

She said that she has seen profound changes in her students’ lives, with kundalini yoga addressing everything from emotional issues and physical ailments to fears and stress-related tension.

“It is because of my own experience and knowledge that I choose to teach this form of yoga, known as ‘The Yoga of Awareness,’ and becoming aware is the first step in growth and healing,” she said.

Kundalini Yoga & Wellness is located at 309 3^rd St., New Cumberland. To learn more, visit kundaliniyogaandwellness.com or call 717-763-8746.

A Message from Jack: Maybe Harrisburg can’t do much about its tax rate, but it still can be more welcoming to outsiders.

January 30, 2015 | by Lawrance Binda

I get letters.

Well, not exactly letters, since no one writes letters anymore, but the modern equivalent—email.

Most email is complimentary of something we did or printed; some is critical. An occasional email offers unsolicited advice, which I often find less helpful than confounding (why would I change my magazine’s design based upon a message that pops into my inbox from some guy I’ve never met?).

Recently, I received an email from a fellow from Virginia who had considered buying property in Harrisburg. As he tells it, his mother lives here, and, when he visits, he’s tempted by what he sees.

“Wonderful Victorian houses, solid houses with character and mighty cheap,” he wrote.

He changed his mind, though, after checking out his mom’s property tax bill, which was the real reason he sent me the email. He wanted to know why it was so high and suspected it was due to poor property tax collection.

I responded back that, no, lax collection isn’t a big problem here. The relatively high tax rate is due more to a limited tax base, too many nonprofits and non-taxable properties, an enormously indebted school system, a relatively poor city with tremendous service needs, and far too many undeveloped lots and unimproved buildings.

So, count Jack from Charlottesville as among those who won’t be relocating to Harrisburg anytime soon, bringing his human and financial capital with him.

Unfortunately, there’s little Harrisburg can do to lower its tax rate in the near-term (if ever). However, Harrisburg (the government, the people) can do a few things to make this place more attractive, to entice those who may decide that living here in one of our beautiful (cheap) Victorian houses is worth a few extra bucks in taxes.

Encourage responsible development. As I’ve said before in this space, Harrisburg desperately needs people (and their money), which is the only way to keep taxes in check and provide better public safety, social services and infrastructure to the people who live here now. And, in Harrisburg, there’s room to spare as much of the residential land consists of vacant lots and empty and blighted buildings. For a city, this is an unnatural, toxic state that punishes existing residents with rising taxes, poor services, lack of employment opportunities and deserted, dangerous streets. Developers and business people need to be encouraged, not denounced, for taking tremendous risks investing in a city that most others won’t touch. Like all cities, Harrisburg is not a static creature. It requires constant redevelopment and re-investment to continue to be a viable place to live and work. Without this, without a flow of new people and capital across generations, it will crumble and die—as it once almost did.

Drop the provincialism. How would you describe the current state of Harrisburg? If you were to attend a City Council meeting, you might come away thinking that things are so good that they should stay exactly the way they are. Fear of change, fear of outsiders and a zero-sum, us vs. them mentality often pervade these meetings. Council members must realize that they represent all the people of Harrisburg, not just those in their immediate circles. They also must understand that Harrisburg will never be able to pay its current bills—much less provide better services to its residents—unless it grows its tax base, which means attracting people and businesses into the city. Harrisburg must be open to new residents, new ideas and new, better ways of doing things.

Make the most of Harrisburg’s inherent strength as a cozy, quaint city located on a magnificent river. Harrisburg has many assets that it poorly utilizes. City Island, Italian Lake and Reservoir Park are underused; could-be charming streets and alleys are run down and bleak; litter and dumping are rampant; and the condition of the river walk and steps is an embarrassment. Yes, it’s great that the city is blessed with a magnificent Capitol building, which draws in visitors and workers. Harrisburg, however, would be better served polishing up its small-city charm instead of indulging in a conceit that it’s a very important capital city.

In my email back, I told Jack that, despite the tax situation, he still should consider poking around Harrisburg, that there are some great things happening here. Indeed, the city has come a long way just in my time here. The budget is balanced, major projects are coming online, and the mayor and council, while often at odds, at least aren’t at war. Many of the vacant and underutilized historic buildings downtown and in Midtown have been—or are being—redeveloped and reoccupied. In 2015, Harrisburg’s long-neglected infrastructure will begin to get fixed. For the first time in a long time, at least among some residents, there’s a sense of hope, a belief that things just might get better.

I don’t think I won my argument with Jack, as he remained turned off by the local tax situation. I hope, though, that eventually we’ll snag him, that Harrisburg will become friendly enough, open enough, clean enough, vibrant enough and charming enough that he won’t be able to stay away.

Lawrance Binda is editor-in-chief of TheBurg.

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