The moment Kamran arrived in Ohio on Thursday night, two hours late thanks to the rain, my best friend, Tracey, and I whisked him off to Skully’s to dance until 2 a.m. And then we went home and ate ice cream cake until 3:30.

Tracey told me I’d hate my duckface in this picture, and she’s right

I was still getting over a cold, too, so when his alarm went off that morning at 8, I was seriously dreading having to get up and spend the day in downtown Columbus. But we had decided to have Tracey drop us off in German Village before work so we could revisit some of the places Kamran remembered from the years he lived in Columbus from 2nd to 4th grade. It turned out to be one of the most memorable moments of the trip.

We started at Katzinger’s Delicatessen, where we ate bagels just piled with cream cheese while sitting next to cases loaded with rugalach and barrels brimming with pickles. It’s fitting that I never once went to Katzinger’s while at THE Ohio State University and have never once been to Katz’s deli while in NYC. Someday I’ll learn.

As soon as The Book Loft opened, we walked a few blocks through the cobbled streets and fallen leaves to explore its 32 rooms of books. It’s a creaky old building divided off into themed rooms of every shape and size.

This was the smallest room we found. Kamran thinks its doorway was hidden by a huge map the last time he visited in 2000 on his way from California to Princeton for grad school.

He bought a book on the philosopher Heidegger for himself and a book on lobsters for me, which I realize makes me sound like a child, but it’s a totally serious book!

As we left, a guy from the Human Rights Campaign accosted us and forced me to donate money to the gayz, so we had to go to Starbucks to make ourselves feel like a part of the system again. And not to be a sellout or anything, but you guys, I got a salted caramel mocha thingy, and when I put my cup down on the table next to my extra-plush armchair, the sweet caramel began bubbling through the hole in the lid. COME ON. I can’t resist that.

Across the street was the Golden Hobby Shop, which is an old school filled with gifts handmade by senior citizens. Everything seemed underpriced to us, but that may just be six years of NYC shopping talking. We couldn’t figure out how to transport 400 buckeye necklaces and some really creepy-awesome folk art cats back in our suitcases, but I can imagine that this place would be excellent for local Christmas shopping.

On our way to lunch, we saw a green Yoda pumpkin

and a beheaded Brutus Buckeye

and stopped to take pictures of ourselves being badass for posterity:

We made it to Schmidt’s Sausage Haus and Restaurant (excuse me, Sausage Haus und Restaurant) around 1, somehow thinking there wouldn’t be a line on a Friday afternoon.

After a 25-minute walk around the neighborhood, our names were called over the loudspeaker outside, and we were seated at the most adorable old wooden booth for two. We briefly contemplated ordering plated entrees but then realized we’d be idiots not to get the $9.50 ($9.50!!!) buffet, which has four kinds of sausage, two kinds of potato salad, sausage stew, sauerkraut, and everything else German you could want.

We only made it through one plate apiece, but we had a good time doing it:

And of course we saved room for their famous big-as-your-head cream puffs, which we got with pumpkin filling and which they so graciously topped with an extra piece of my very favourite Halloween candy:

I can really only remember going to Schmidt’s once or twice while living in Ohio for twenty-four years, and I’m pretty sure I was a vegetarian at least one of those times, so I wasn’t all that excited when Kamran said he wanted to relive his childhood there. Well, it really struck me while I was there how different and better it is than all of the chain restaurants I want to visit every time I’m back home, and now I know I’m going to want to go back every time I’m in Ohio. I’m still dreaming about that sweet and spicy sausage stew . . .

After filling our bellies, we walked a few blocks to Schiller Park, where we watched dogs run free, climbed the very smallest hill just to run down it, got weirded out by how into things like bones and catnip dogs and cats are, and planned to buy every one of the Victorian houses lining the park’s edges.

Kamran’s only pretending to not be sure about this whole thing

And now you should understand why I love Ohio so much and stop making fun of me.