Gingerbread Houses

For the past two months, I have been limiting topics covered in this blog to running and races.  But it is mid-December, and now that Covid restrictions have been easing we have been attending some holiday events, such as the Van Gogh Alive exhibit at the Biltmore House over the Thanksgiving Holiday (see post of November 25).  Last Sunday we attended a show at the Highlands Playhouse called the Scott and Patti Holiday Spectacular and it proved as entertaining as it had been billed (“Join Scott & Patti as they celebrate the season through songs, dances, side splitting comedy, and a bevy of special guests.”)  The Sunday before that we attended the first performance from the North Georgia Players since before Covid, We’ll be Home for Christmas, four cute mini-plays, and it was equally entertaining.

This week, we attended the National Gingerbread House Competition at the Grove Park Inn in Asheville.  We have been to this competition in past years, and the Grove Park Inn is always a treat to visit under any circumstance.

Constructed in 1913 and listed on the National Register, the Inn was built by Edwin Wiley Grove and Fred Seely near Sunset Mountain overlooking Asheville.  It was constructed of rough-looking granite quarried from the mountains above the inn and transported by mule and wagon to the site.  William Jennings Bryan, Secretary of State at the time, was present when it opened and gave the keynote address, proclaiming the Grove Park “was built for the ages.”  I attended conferences a few times at the Inn when I worked for the Town years ago, and it was always a special treat to wander its long corridors and look at the old photographs showing its construction. 

The roof, for example, is five-and-a-half inches thick, a single pour of concrete to avoid seams – it was promoted as a completely fireproof structure at the time.  The granite is deliberately rough as intended by Seely, and I spotted this sign among the photographs which poetically described the intent of the builders.

In contrast to this massive structure, we marveled at the dozens of intricate miniature houses constructed not from granite and concrete but from gingerbread and candy.  Curious about the construction, I read on-line the rules and regulations for the competition: 

Everything above the base of your entry must be composed completely of edible materials. . . The main structure of your entry must be constructed of at least 75% gingerbread, some of which should be exposed.  Edible materials are not limited to candies and icings. Use of gum paste, fondant, pastillage, chocolate, modeling chocolate, royal icing, isomalt, cast sugar, gelatin and pressed sugar is encouraged. Use of "Disco Dust," "Rainbow Dust" or “Hologram Powder” is permitted.  Due to the danger of working with hot sugar, techniques using poured hot sugar or isomalt are reserved for the teen and adult categories only. This includes melted sugar candies.  Candies must be unwrapped and free of any non-edible materials, for example: lollipop sticks.

I wondered what "Disco Dust" might be - it sounded like a performing-enhancing drug.  And lollipop sticks!  I had not thought about it, but that would have been a structural element that would have come in handy; I noted that one or two of the non-adult houses were already starting to lose their roofs.  But lollipop sticks, though serving the same purpose as steel rebar in the Grove Park Inn, would have been cheating, and apart from the wild imagination and technical skill exhibited, it was a marvel to think about the construction and transport of these houses to the site of competition.  Unbelievable!

It was unseasonably warm in Asheville for December, and as we left the Grove Park Inn in mid-afternoon the temperature was sixty degrees, so pleasant that we were able to put the top down on our Mini Cooper.  We drove the relatively short distance to Candler, just west of Asheville, and had a nice visit with Martha’s aunt Mary, whom we had not seen since before Covid.  Mary will be 90 years old in a week or two and is doing quite well; it occurred to me that she is nearly as old as the Grove Park Inn, and like the venerable Inn is apparently constructed of equally sturdy material.  When she saw our little car, she said she would like to go for a ride in it some day.  “Why not right now?” Martha said, and so they did.