It's been 22 years since Allegheny County threw a proper county fair, so Pittsburgh city officials and two local groups had a bit of fun naming Sunday's end-of-summer festival something signature: "the inaugural Pittsburgh County Fair."
The 'Burgh, obviously, isn’t a county, but organizers said the moniker seemed fitting for a bash featuring a honey queen and a chance to win best tomato in Pittsburgh.
"I just wanted to pull all these interesting people out of the woodwork," said the event's primary organizer, Justin Lubecky of Ferment Pittsburgh, who brought everything together in just eight weeks.
Some two dozen vendors and a few hundred visitors flocked to the pond at Allegheny Commons Park, grateful for the chance to find community despite a bit of a drizzle.
More hippy than hoe-down, there were no horse races or fried foods at this county fair. Instead, attendees learned how to cultivate mushrooms, make juice from sorghum, and care for bees. Prayers were buried in a patch of "emotional composting," and artisans led demonstrations of nearly every craft imaginable.
Wondering how to make your own broom? Leave it to Sweeping Jone to show you. Ever wanted to basketweave? Foggy Blossom Farm has you covered.
"I'm not an oil professional but I love doing home food projects like this," Joshua Darnley, 28, said while teaching a local couple how to make their own sunflower seed oil. "Only a minute or two of cranking and you've got enough for dinner," he said.
To encourage engagement at each stand, Mr. Lubecky waived the fee for vendors who incorporated an educational component. Sistah Seeds tied the legacy of the African Diaspora to modern opportunities to grow cultural crops, while Chatham University dove into the sour depths of sauerkraut.
It was a return to form for Ferment Pittsburgh, which hasn't thrown a large-scale bash since 2020. The events aren't money makers. "We take a hit on everything we do," said Mr. Lubecky, who poured six months of sales from his vegetable garden into free stuff for the fair.
The bigger success, he said, is building community and awareness of a seed-to-substance model. After only a few hours of smiles and serendipitous connections, the organizer was already optimistic about bringing the fair back next year.
"It's very hard to start a new event,” he said. “But you gotta start somewhere."
The celebration of all things local featured grub from Wild Rise Bakery and The Pickled Chef, coffee from Adda, ice cream from Happy Day Dessert Factory, and brews from Grist House.
Residents could bring their soil to be tested for toxins and nutrients, or share stories of gardening successes and woes.
Jo Deming, executive director of Food Policy Council, shared pawpaw from her backyard, introducing people to the "forgotten fruit" to which local author Andy Moore dedicated his entire first novel.
Mandy Vitikacs brought a Noah's Ark of miniature animals from Washington-based Barnyard Petting Zoo, briefly supplanting a bit of country in a verdant corner of the city.
"It was the best!" exclaimed 7-year-old Emmy Marino.
"My favorite animal was the donkey because he drank all the milk," added sister Flora, 4.
Back in its heyday, the Allegheny County fair drew as many as 200,000 for spectacles like chariot races and simulated war games, according to a summary compiled in 2019 by local historian Clint Burton. Always a challenge to schedule and fund, the fair’s planning association disbanded after one final event in 2001.
By contrast, the Washington County Agricultural Fair is still going strong. Last month it celebrated 225 years with a weeklong celebration featuring thousands of animals and exhibits, as well as carnival rides and a demolition derby.
But for a group of four recent graduate students in food studies, Sunday's seven-hour celebration in Pittsburgh represented "the future."
"I think spaces like this will start to be elevated more in Pittsburgh," said Jasmine Pope, who works with the basket weavers and Sistah Seeds at Phipps Conservatory and Botanical Gardens but hadn't seen everyone come together in one shared space until Sunday.
"I just hope people use it as a launching pad," her friend Quayla Allen added.
Among the moments of connection, a broom maker from Ohio set up shop next to Pittsburgh’s RJ Plum, who just started making her own brooms two weeks ago. Then there was Mike Henry, 56, who helped dozens of residents work out their aggression by mashing up pounds of freshly salted cabbage.
"You're not quite there," he told one woman after nearly 10 minutes of mashing. "You gotta beat it up a little more."
Mr. Henry was crowned "fermentation champion" at his first festival in 2017 for a curry-infused "facile fromage," French for simple cheese.
"It's all about innovating and coming up with new things," he said. "That's what keeps you going."
Perhaps the most celebratory moment of the afternoon was the judging of Pittsburgh's best tomato.
The entrants had trickled in at first, but by 2 p.m. there was a robust lineup of beefsteaks, ribbed beauties and vibrant cherry orbs.
Four volunteer judges dove in, ranking taste and appearance for combined scores that one judge, Mammad Mahmoodi, an economist visiting from New York, helped compile on makeshift pencil spreadsheets.
After a final tally, Mr. Mahmoodi, announced the winner: a perfectly innocuous orange cherry tomato.
"I did not see that coming!" he exclaimed.
The grower responsible for the tomato seemed equally surprised when she came by later to claim her trophy. "Really? Me?" she told the judges. "I eat them every morning for breakfast!"
First Published: September 17, 2023, 8:31 p.m.
Updated: September 18, 2023, 10:03 a.m.
