Cleveland rocks: Vacation to Ohio offers chance to explore diverse food culture in city on Cuyahoga River

Expressions were decidedly pained when I announced a vacation to Cleveland. More than one person said -- or gave the look -- "So sorry."

Well, I'm not.

Poor Cleveland still can't shake that river-on-fire reputation, but geez y'all, that was 42 years ago! Move on.

OK, I confess the main purpose of my trip was to visit my sister and her husband, who live in the pretty suburban town of Brecksville. But, as a food person, I'm always on the hunt for eating experiences. And we found plenty in C-Town.

Every city or region has a food culture, literally right under your nose if you're out there tasting new things. As you should be.

We drove around the lush, rolling hills of Cuyahoga Valley National Park. The Cuyahoga River, or "crooked river," twists and turns through the landscape. So, too, does the popular Towpath Trail that follows the route of the old Ohio & Erie Canal. Mules once walked this path with canal boats in tow.

Like many of the cyclists and hikers out, our wanderings had a destination: Szalay's Sweet Corn Farm. The farm offers an old-fashioned, open-air market as well as a few food stations serving hot dogs, ice cream and the like.

There, I unabashedly mowed through two ears of fresh roasted corn (nobody knows me, I thought). The charred husks were peeled back to expose a yellow-and-white cob of corn dripping with butter. I held on to the stem and went to work.

Turns out it was the first day Ohio-grown corn was available. How sweet it was!

One night, my generous brother-in-law took us to dinner at Michaelangelo's. Who knew Cleveland had a Little Italy?

There we savored lobster ravioli, succulent duck breast with blueberry farro and a heady ricotta- and black truffle-stuffed pasta with cream sauce. We ambled, the only pace we could manage after our meal, down the street to enjoy a late-night gelato.

The most happening place of all is the West Side Market in downtown Cleveland. On a Saturday, it took us several circles in the parking lot to get a space. Still, you can't tell from the outside how much energy lies within, and what a sensory overload you're in for.

The market's beginnings date to 1840. It became a permanent structure in 1912 with the building of a yellow brick markethouse, which features a handsome arched ceiling high over its concourse. A 137-foot clock tower stands as a Cleveland landmark.

More than 100 vendors sell their foodstuffs at the market: all manner of meats and sausages, fresh seafood, a cornucopia of vegetables and fruits, cheeses and baked goods. There's bison and bamboo rice, too.

Lines were especially long at Steve's Gyros, made famous by being featured on the Food Network's "The Best Thing I Ever Ate."

We passed on that in favor of Maha's Falafil after taking the bait of a free sample with a smear of hummus. I couldn't imagine such a scale of quality in falafels. Maha's was majestic, though, perfectly spiced and crunchy, its texture set off by the smooth hummus.

Theresa's Bakery naturally caught my eye, and even more so the Strawberry Cassata minicakes in the case. My sister told me they are a regional specialty, which is all the motivation needed for buying a couple to try.

True cassata is a Sicilian cake traditionally served at Easter or other celebrations. It is extravagant, filled with ricotta, candied fruit (especially pumpkin) and liqueur, and the sides are coated with marzipan. The Cleveland version is a layered sponge cake with whipped cream and custard or ricotta, but no matter, it is deliciously light and welcome in the summer.

Like every vacation, you have to do something while you wait until its time to eat. Only Cleveland has the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame with Janis Joplin's psychedelic Porsche parked in the lobby. Or Ringo Starr's red military jacket from "Strawberry Fields Forever." Plus a gadzillion other fascinating artifacts whether your musical tastes lie in gospel or Pink Floyd.

If you are a baseball aficionado, you can take in a major league game like we did on July Fourth. We sat behind home plate at Progressive Field and watched the Indians rally to beat the Yankees, 6-3.

In a gotta-love-baseball moment, Austin Kearns, the guy with the lowest batting average in the Indians' lineup, smacked a home run to push his team ahead to the eventual win. That was followed by an a-m-a-z-i-n-g fireworks show.

Oh, about Cleveland and that river-on-fire thing: I say take that stereotype and stuff it -- with some buttery sweet Ohio corn.