On a road trip through the Upper Peninsula—the U.P.—of Michigan, my wife and I stopped in Ironwood, just over the border from Wisconsin, a region where many of my immigrant forbears on both sides of the family settled to find work in the region’s mines back in the early 20th century.
On visits to relatives years ago, my family never came here without stopping for a pasty (PASS-tee) at Joe’s Pasty Shop, and this trip would be no exception. We picked up a couple of the savory D-shaped pastry pockets and a handful of ketchup packets before continuing down the road.
