海角大神

It鈥檚 crispy brown on the outside, moist and spicy on the inside. And when served up with the candidates in one of the most-watched Senate races in the country, you get the 19th annual Apple Scrapple Festival in rural Bridgeville, Delaware.

Like the Bidens and slow traffic on I-95, scrapple is a Delaware tradition. For the uninitiated, scrapple is a Pennsylvania Dutch delicacy made of hog byproducts (snout, heart, liver), corn meal, flour, and spices, mixed into a mush and formed into loaves, then sliced off and fried. It鈥檚 usually served for breakfast, but scrapple sandwiches make a fine lunch, or so I鈥檓 told. Here in Bridgeville, they鈥檝e been making RAPA Scrapple 鈥� named for company founders Ralph and Paul Adams 鈥� since 1926.

Anybody running for office in Delaware knows that on the second weekend in October, the Apple Scrapple Festival is the place to be. (Apples are another big local product. You know what those are.)

Democratic Senate candidate Chris Coons and his wife, Annie, showed up first. Though polls show him far ahead of Republican Christine O鈥橠onnell statewide, the conservative southern part of the state isn鈥檛 exactly Coons country. Among the throngs of people out on this hot, sunny day, O鈥橠onnell stickers and T-shirts far outnumber Coons paraphernalia.

But the Coonses soldier on. Standing near the Democratic Party booth, they greet voters, some of whom speak to Mr. Coons as if they鈥檝e known the county executive of New Castle County up in northern Delaware forever. It鈥檚 such a small state 鈥� it has only one House member in Congress 鈥� maybe they do.

鈥淭hat guy calls me every day and says, 鈥榊ou need more lawn signs up!鈥� 鈥� Coons says after talking to one man.

How far can you chuck that wad of scrapple?

Then it鈥檚 time to head off to the Mayor's Invitational Scrapple Sling, where Coons was to compete with local officials to see who could propel a package of scrapple the farthest. No word yet on how he did. I stuck around by the political booths to await the arrival of Ms. O鈥橠onnell , the newest darling of the conservative tea party movement and butt of late-night jokes about her youthful dabbling in witchcraft.

O鈥橠onnell stunned the political universe Sept. 14 by defeating the heavily favored Rep. Mike Castle 鈥� a fixture in Delaware politics for 40 years 鈥� in the GOP primary.

When O鈥橠onnell arrives, applause breaks out. Well-wishers are eager to greet her, and as she makes her way down South Cannon St., the crowd gets big enough that an impromptu police escort forms. But there鈥檚 plenty of access to O鈥橠onnell, who dispenses hugs and 鈥淕od bless you鈥檚鈥� to folks who want to shake her hand and pose for a photo. A few serve notice that she鈥檒l have to earn their support.

鈥淚f you want my vote in the general election, there鈥檚 two things you gotta do for me,鈥� says Michael Rhua of Blades, Del. 鈥淥ne, you gotta have a strong energy policy. Two, you gotta be working on the local economy and the environment.鈥�

Another voter offers a suggestion for her next TV ad: Wear something colorful. In her last ad, where she reassures voters she鈥檚 not a witch 鈥� 鈥淚鈥檓 you,鈥� she says 鈥� she is shown in dark clothing against a spare, dark background.

Both candidates took questions from the Monitor. I asked Coons if all the attention O鈥橠onnell is getting in the national media was helping or hurting his campaign.

鈥淚t tends to focus overwhelmingly on things that aren鈥檛 the real concerns of working Delawareans,鈥� he said. 鈥淲e just had a candidate forum in Newark (Del.) and no one asked about witchcraft or evolution. People asked, 鈥榃hat鈥檚 your plan for creating jobs? How are you going to tackle spending? What are you going to do to strengthen our education system?鈥� I have a detailed plan.鈥�

I asked O鈥橠onnell what she鈥檒l focus on in her next ad. Her reply: 鈥淲e have another ad rolling out this week. I鈥檓 you. 鈥�

Another 鈥淚鈥檓 you鈥� ad? I asked.

鈥淚鈥檇 do what you鈥檇 do,鈥� she said, referring to Delaware voters. 鈥淚 want to go to Washington and do what you鈥檇 do. It鈥檚 running right now. That鈥檚 it.鈥�

Some festival-goers didn鈥檛 seem to care much about politics. 鈥淚鈥檓 just here for the scrapple,鈥� said one man.

Our intrepid reporter tries scrapple (and survives)

I realized I had more business to attend to. You can鈥檛 go to a festival dedicated to scrapple and not try it, especially when the factory is just down the street and so many of the townspeople earn their livelihood producing it. But the lines for scrapple sandwiches ($4 each) were long, and I鈥檓 not big on lines. Maybe the lines will get shorter as the day wears on, I thought.

鈥淣ope, there will always be a line,鈥� a festival-goer advised.

Finally, I had my sandwich 鈥� two slabs of scrapple about a quarter inch thick each, between two slices of white bread, plus ketchup and mustard. I took a bite. The spices were nice, though I wasn鈥檛 sure about the consistency. Later, a local told me I鈥檇 like it better the way his wife makes it: Pressed down flat and fried crispy all the way through.

Scrapple also makes a nice modeling compound. At a table near the festival stage, folks took part in a scrapple-carving contest. A pig sculpture placed first overall (irony, anyone?); in the junior division, a Mickey Mouse head won.

For the more athletic, there was the scrapple toss 鈥� 5-pound bags held together with duct tape flung across the field behind the high school. The winning throw was 127 feet 6 inches, a new world record, the organizer announced. Earlier in the day, they held a Ladies鈥� Skillet Toss, which is a staple of certain rural festivals (and there are YouTube videos to prove it).

But with less than a month to go before Election Day, one question burned above all others. Do Delaware鈥檚 two Senate candidates like scrapple?

Coons: 鈥淢y grandfather actually built heat processing plants for Smith Premium all around the country. My dad was in food, and made scrapple for us every week when I was growing up. It is an acquired taste.鈥�

O鈥橠onnell: 鈥淚 LOVE scrapple! Didn鈥檛 do the sling, but I had some scrapple earlier.鈥�