State Fair secrets

The secret to Erin McCleary's blue-ribbon peach and blueberry jams is in the fruit preparation -- specifically, crushing it properly. Not just well, but properly.

If you didn't know that fruit prep merited not merely an adjective, but an adverb, that's where McCleary was just a few years ago.

"Then I got Linda Amendt's book, 'Blue Ribbon Preserves,' which, well, there you have it," she said.

McCleary, of Minneapolis, learned that each variety of fruit should be spread in a single layer in a rimmed pan, then crushed. Don't just dump it in a bowl and smoosh.

"This way, all the fruit is crushed so it's uniform," she said.

For this year's State Fair, McCleary uniformly crushed pears, nectarines, cherries, blueberries and peaches for her jam entries. It was the second time she'd entered the competition, becoming hooked when last year's debut entry for rhubarb-raspberry jam earned a blue ribbon.

At 33, McCleary is one of the emerging generation of preservers.

"When I came in with my entries, they said, 'Oh, here's a young person!''' she said, standing before shelves in the Creative Activities Building that, from a distance, resemble a stained glass window filled with pint-sized panes of jewel-toned jams.

She began learning the craft five years ago, experimenting with fruits, and finding a ready audience for her efforts, including the occasional "won't jell" batch that goes to good friends as sauce.

By day, she's communications director for ESG Architects in Minneapolis. But last year's win inspired her to start a foodie blog (acraftylass.blogspot.com).

SHE BEAUTIFIES

Kristin Schulz, 14, grinned and rolled her eyes as she allowed as how, yes, the 1,160-pound crossbred heifer she was brushing was named Miley, as in Cyrus. Besides sharing a name, the singing sensation might have nothing on the four-legged Miley when it comes to grooming regimens.

The journey to earning a purple ribbon at this year's fair began last September, when Kristin's dad, Dale, bought Miley as a calf. Three months ago, the fair prep began in earnest with a feeding routine of 30 pounds of hay and a special competition mix of grains, forage and molasses called Winning Fill morning and night.

"I try to get her in the barn by 9 every morning to wash her, then combing," Kristin said. "You have to comb the hair at a 45-degree angle so the hair 'pops,' which makes her look bigger.

"Then we use a blower to get her 80 percent dry. If you leave too much water on, she loses her hair. Then we move her into a cooler room with two air conditioners and two turbo fans," like the ones blowing hell-bent through the vast expanse of the Cattle Building. "It's 62 degrees, which is what we call a good hair-growing temperature."

On show day, Miley got a 5 a.m. shampoo with Dawn dish liquid (although Pantene has been spotted among the competitors). Then she got "major hair spray on her legs" so the hair stays flat, giving her legs a sculpted look.

The point of the combing and feeding is to present an animal that appears lushly proportioned and sleekly groomed as she steps into the ring.

Kristin, a member of the Enterprise Earners 4-H club in Jackson County, lives in Alpha, Minn., "although on some maps, it's not even on it."

Kristin, who is not above planting a kiss on Miley's muzzle, will continue brushing the now mother-to-be for admiring passersby who have no idea that they're walking through a straw-strewn beauty salon.

SHE CARVES

Sometimes, Deb Adamson likes to linger near the beeswax carving display, just to listen to what people say when they spy her intricate creations.

"Awesome."

"Omigod."

"Oh, cute."

Such expressions of surprised disbelief are typical when fairgoers encounter such scenes as two carved wax bees, barely three-quarters of an inch high, holding tiny daiquiris while lounging in the shade of one of Adamson's signature 3-inch high beeswax palm trees.

"I call mine the nose-print entry," Adamson said.

The superintendents of the bee and honey hall in the Horticulture Building have told her that they're always having to wipe clean the glass case that houses her entries. This year, she won a blue ribbon for her three-part scene called "The Secret Life of Bees: The Queen and 3 Workers on Vacation."

In addition to the daiquiri sippers, there are two other scenes, each of a bee stretched out in the shade of a blooming rose. The scale is precise, the detail amazing and the humanity of the bees simply a hoot.

So is Adamson, 50, who suggests that she be known as De-bee for the newspaper article. The Savage resident has been carving beeswax on and off for years, ever since a ninth-grade teacher at Rosemount Junior High handed out the creamy golden wax for an art project.

Beeswax is a unique material, more pliable than paraffin and with a subtly sweet aroma. Adamson uses an X-Acto knife, dentist tools and some imagination to turn a chunk of beeswax slowly and delicately into a many-petaled rose.

"Not many people do this," she said, which is part of the appeal.

This fair's entry proved unexpectedly therapeutic to create. Adamson is losing her office job with Northwest Airlines after more than 30 years.

"At first, I didn't really feel like doing anything -- it's not been a great year -- so it's nice to win something," she said.

Kim Ode • 612-673-7185