Category: Travel

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Hiking: The Story

We are latecomers to the world of hiking. Since our new “forever” home is a mere 30 minutes south of the Adirondack Park, we have a plethora of lakes, ponds, rivers and mountains to climb over, under and through. Consequently, there is absolutely no excuse not to go outside and explore the area. In fairness, this “activity” came about primarily because of COVID. We were “those” people during the pandemic who took up walking as much as we could because we couldn’t travel!

We hiked all last summer and into the late fall only stopping once the snow came. But even then, we would hop in the car and stop to watch the snowmobilers who would often cross our path. Sometimes we’d even clear off a picnic table that was covered in snow or ice just to have lunch. A new thermos was purchased to carry hot soup during the winter as well as an insulated backpack for water and sandwiches in the summer.

We already had enough casual clothes hanging in our closet that we could layer on but decided a set of hiking poles (for me) were a good investment. Since then we have met many types of people on a “trail” with us. There are quite a few couples who look at least 10+ years older than we are, and most of them I think are what could be considered “casual” hikers. Looking at their attire though, they often look as if they should be at the beach. Are you seriously walking in sandals? And wait, is that woman really carrying a purse?

Then there is the requisite young family, toting the kids along, and sometimes even a stroller in tow. (I’m not quite sure how that works when hiking.) While Mom might be a “serious” hiker and properly outfitted, the kids are usually barely keeping up and often would walk behind the parents with a frown on their face and flip-flops on their feet. Then there are the 20-year-olds! I don’t ever want to sleep on the ground unless I have to. But these “true” campers thought ahead. Foam sleeping pads are strapped to the top of their backpacks, water bottles or hydration packs are visible, and unlike the others as noted above, they always have proper gear – particularly decent boots and heavy socks.

This past week we upgraded our footwear to lightweight trail “runners” (after walking in ankle deep mud the week before and ruining our shoes), and then decided to try them out on a trip further upstate as well as Vermont and New Hampshire. There were two bucket list hikes we failed to accomplish last summer so we figured this last week before Labor Day would be a good time!

First Stop: Ausable Chasm

Located in the town of the same name in upstate New York, I was afraid there would be so many visitors that we’d want to turn around. I was wrong; it was fairly empty and we had most of the trail to ourselves. I thought the paths around the rim of the chasm were easy; the walkways not too narrow. We got some really nice views and although it was pushing 90 degrees that day, we were okay.

I have to assume the reason it was so empty where we were walking is that most of the visitors were there for the river rafting, rock climbing, and all sorts of other activities that we weren’t interested in. I mean, do I really want to walk over this narrow “board” they call a bridge just to get to the other side? I think not.

There weren’t a lot of places to stay near Ausable Chasm; there were tons of chain hotels near Plattsburgh (only 20 minutes away), but I couldn’t find a decent restaurant for dinner. The rule is we find the restaurant first, then the hotel. Ideally, in Julie’s “perfect” world, I like both to be within walking distance of each other so there’s no imbibing and driving.

Onward to Vermont

Which is how we ended up in St. Albans City, Vermont. The town looked bigger on the map, but there was a Hilton Garden Inn that was less than two years old, right smack in the middle of town and a restaurant a block away. It was a Tuesday night; we had made a reservation but the restaurant was packed and the hostess, unfortunately, kept turning people away who walked in without one. We had mussels and fish, an attentive server, but ultimately, it was just an okay meal. Hence, no food photos – a first for me!

New Hampshire Next!

Our next destination: Flume Gorge in Franconia Notch State Park in Lincoln. We had booked timed tickets ahead of our visit – again worrying about crowds. Luckily, it wasn’t too busy, and the park made sure that the current two mile hike is one-way only. So if there are people on a trail with you at least they are all going in the same direction. I thought this park and the gorge vistas were much more impressive than Ausable Chasm. The hike was fairly easy but lots and lots of stairs!

Besides the walkways, there were covered bridges to walk through and gorgeous pools of water deep in the bottom of the gorge.

And then we checked into our “Inn.” I only have two words for this place: don’t go. I will not name this very popular Inn and Brewery but will talk about the room and the mediocre food. In the 50+ years I’ve been traveling (42 of them with Lynn), I’ve never actually pulled down the bed covers to reveal torn sheets.* Not once.

Since the fitted sheet was the culprit, I have to ask how the housekeeping staff could possibly have stretched the sheet over the bed and not seen the rip? Since the Inn in question was packed with visitors and reduced staff, we decided to just ignore this issue and sleep on top of the flat sheet. (* On checkout we were given a small credit towards our stay for this “sheet inconvenience,” since I did mention it.)

My Burger Dilemma

Time to talk about the food. I understand the desire for pub/bar fare or whatever you might call it. I refer to such menus as “usual suspects.” That would be burgers, sandwiches, wings, french fries, maybe a salad if you are lucky. When we arrived at the Inn, we grabbed a quick beer and watched platters filled with the above-mentioned food items come out from the kitchen. Many people took home “doggie” bags. I hate that. Many people just ate some of the food and left the rest. I hate that even more. I kept staring at people’s plates (which Lynn hates) trying to see what others were ordering so that I wouldn’t go that route. (Tacos in particular seemed the thing not to order.)

By the time we were ready for dinner (nearly three hours later), I tried to order carefully – a Caprese salad might be okay, I thought. It wasn’t. Out came some greens with no dressing, slices of rubbery mozzarella topped with tasteless tomatoes. Our entrees you might ask? I ordered a cheeseburger (no bun) and onion rings. Lynn ordered the same but got the bun. Both burgers were over cooked and the onion rings, while large and fried, were tasteless. I felt sorry for my fellow diners but then realized most of them were there only to drink and probably didn’t even care if they had something to eat or not.

I’m not opposed to a good hamburger now and then. But it has to be really, really good. Back in the “old” days when we were living on Long Island (and close to NYC), even the “fanciest” of restaurants would invariably have a burger on the menu. The great late chef Joël Robuchon even offered a burger at his famous New York City restaurant L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon located in the Four Seasons Hotel. In my 2007 review at the time, I describe tasty little beef and foie gras burgers crowned with lightly caramelized bell peppers sandwiched between lovely little buns.  (Why when I’m describing that dish does it sound well, incredibly sexual?) Now, give me one of those celebrity chef-inspired burgers, and I, too, will enjoy it immensely! I understand that even the finest restaurant will sometimes offer a burger on their menu to appease those individuals who are less adventurous eaters. I would like to see this trend disappear. That and kid’s meals. When our kids were young, they ordered what we ordered or we shared our dinners with them. And believe me, it’s a no-brainer to figure out why children have eating disorders or more than average food aversions; it’s because of their parents! But I’m diverting from the story.

Back to Vermont

Before we left New Hampshire, we hiked on the Lincoln Woods Trailhead following a branch of the Pemigewwaset River. Unlike upstate New York, where our rivers and creeks have been overflowing, this river was bone dry with huge boulders lining the river bed. The trail was also the site of an old logging camp so in addition to stepping over old railroad ties that were left, we walked quite a bit through the forest, ducking a few fallen oak trees.

With all this hiking, nearly six miles that day, we would look at all the mountains surrounding us but couldn’t really see their vastness. Although it was hazy, after we finished our hike, we drove up to the Hancock Overlook on Kancamagus Highway and got the view of the mountains we were looking for! Yes, it really is a hairpin turn up to the top!

And then we drove to the capital of Vermont. On the way we stopped to see the Martin Covered Bridge. Yes, there are many, many covered bridges in Vermont. This one, however, is special because it was built by a neighbor of farmer William Martin to connect two fields spanning the Winooski River. It’s a small bridge in a very small park (if you blink you will miss it) but historically significant. (And the only “farm” bridge left in Vermont.) Once in Montpelier, we stopped to look at the State House with its gorgeous Greek Revival building and shiny gold dome.

I would have been perplexed if we had not been able find a good restaurant in the capital of Vermont. In reality, the reason we were in Montpelier was to eat one very specific dish at Oakes & Evelyn right on State Street. Fun Julie fact: I read restaurant menus like other people read novels. Furthermore, I will travel long distances (by car or plane but not by boat) to eat at a restaurant that I think might be particularly worthy. Our dinner at Oakes & Evelyn that night hit all the right notes.

A Really Cool Menu

First let me do a special shout out to chef Justin Dain who not only cooked for us that night (with help from his crew) but brought out every single dish to the table we were sitting at outside. We had a lot of fun talking to him about the dishes he created. I think the photographs posted here should give you an idea of the talent in the kitchen, but just to be sure, I’ll give you a brief description as well.

Center photo: the dish that I specifically came to eat – seared foie gras and ahi tuna with fresh strawberries, a pistachio crumble and yuzu gastrique. (See the reason why I visited this place? I’ve never seen this combo before and it exceeded my expectations.) On the left of this amazing dish were a dozen oysters on the half shell from Massachusetts with some neat dipping sauces. On the right, silky smooth homemade gnocchi with corn and Parmesan all tossed together with some mushrooms that tasted like they had just been picked from a forest that morning. (Are you getting hungry yet?)

Then we hit the heavy hitters: Halibut on a bed of creamy polenta with some vegetables and finally for dessert: roasted blueberry and peach shortcake with brown sugar biscuits and vanilla cream. (We’re not total gluttons; we split the last two dishes.)

I once worked with a colleague who used to say that every town has ONE good restaurant. I have discovered that is actually not true. Oakes & Evelyn is not only a find but a top notch restaurant. If you are hiking or skiing in the area, I highly recommend a visit!

Since all good things do have to come to an end, the next day we drove home but not before stopping to see “Ben and Jerry’s Flavor Graveyard” on a hill overlooking their factory in Waterbury, Vermont. I will say this: funny but dumb. It’s not that I don’t like ice cream, I do. It’s just that I don’t like “stuff” in my ice cream. Being a purist, I normally stick with basic flavors like vanilla or chocolate. Lynn thought the “Schweddy Balls” flavor that had been retired was pretty comical though. (And yes, we both like the SNL skit, too.)

In less than a week we will be traveling again. On the agenda: a Frank Lloyd Wright house (Kentuck Knob) in Pennsylvania and then driving further south to Virginia and the Outer Banks. And between the sites to see, we’ve already planned for quite a few hikes along the way.

Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.

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Summer in Maine?

Really, I wanted to title this piece “Do You Miss Times Square on NYE?” Because the two days we spent in Maine were so mobbed with people during the day that I began to question 1) my sanity about traveling there during August, and 2) where exactly did all these people come from? However, once these “day-trippers” left or retired early to their vacation homes or assorted inn/hotel accommodations, the town in question, that would be Camden, was totally dead at night.

I was a bit put off by the quiet, but let me start at the beginning. We hadn’t been to Camden, ME, in 33 years and thought we’d drive to Falmouth, MA, first, then Salem, MA, and head up Route 1. In theory, it was a good idea. We hit a minimal amount of traffic and had a late lunch at the Lobster Trap in Bourne, MA. I looked at the price of a lobster roll ($35!) and decided I would spring for the fresh cod ($14) instead. We had a view, a glass of wine, and the food was good. The lobster roll could wait.

We checked into our hotel in Falmouth that had made a really big deal about the “contactless” service they were offering. This became an annoying point since even 24 hours before our arrival they were bombarding me with text messages. “When will you arrive?” I was asked. Followed by, “please send us a copy of a photo ID (either driver’s license or passport).” I complied but thought it was a bit odd. When we finally got there, I texted them “we’ve arrived,” only to be told to “pick up your keys at the front desk.” So much for not being in contact with anyone!

On the map, the hotel looked like it wasn’t very far from town (15-20 minute walk tops). In reality, it was set in a residential neighborhood with a road I knew would be dark at night with a sidewalk on only one side. Walking into town for dinner I thought could be dangerous.

But first we drove down to the water, parked the car, and walked briefly on the beach. When we drove back through town, people were already eating dinner. It was only 5:30! In fairness, it was Sunday and I realized quite a few of the restaurants close early Sunday night. By the time we had showered and changed and decided where we were eating (a seafood place on the water), it was 7:50 p.m. A relatively normal eating time in our household but apparently very, very late for this part of the country. We had checked the restaurant’s website which said they were open until 9 p.m. When we walked in at the above mentioned hour, the hostess informed us they were closing early tonight, 8 p.m. to be precise, and were not seating any more customers. Lynn and I looked at each other.

“Sushi?” I asked him.

We had seen a sushi place in town and drove quite rapidly, I might add, to get there. Of course, it was packed. Obviously, we didn’t have a reservation. Fifteen minutes later we got a table and while I didn’t expect my first dinner in Cape Cod to be sushi, I thought well, why not?

Since we are pretty adventurous eaters, we didn’t limit ourselves to just sushi. To start we ordered mussels in a spicy red curry sauce with basil and lemon grass, followed by grilled octopus with fingerling potatoes. The octopus was a bit soggy but I appreciated the Jackson Pollock- inspired presentation on the plate. Only after we had devoured these did we move on to the sushi: crunchy tuna and spicy salmon rolls.

By the next morning, we decided we had seen enough of Cape Cod (and realized we had never stayed in Falmouth at all; it had been Hyannis!) and drove to Salem. I thought I remembered Salem. I didn’t. Since we had last visited, the Peabody Essex Museum had been renovated but unfortunately, the day we were visiting, it was closed. We had lunch – a lackluster overpriced lobster roll that I won’t even show here (it’s not worthy) which we ordered only because we had refrained from getting the overpriced lobster roll the day before. (Two lobster rolls and two beers with tax and a generous tip cost us $90.44!)

Besides walking down to the historic maritime area, the real reason for our visit was to see the House of the Seven Gables and the birthplace of Nathaniel Hawthorne. Fun Julie fact: I had never read Hawthorne. Stupid Julie fact: I checked out the novel prior to our visit and couldn’t get through it. That said, I believe we had visited this historic house before but didn’t remember it. Maybe we just did a drive-by?

This time we opted for the self-guided garden tour which also gave us the history of the house after downloading the audio portion, too. Also on the property is the house Nathaniel Hawthorne was born in which was moved to the current site in 1958. Lynn felt the house lost some of its “authenticity” with its relocation. Here are some photos of the house and the beautiful gardens.

Truthfully, I also walked around the house and only counted SIX gables. So, if they lost one along the way, well, good luck finding it! Also in case you don’t know, here’s a fun fact about Hawthorne; he changed his name! Why is that? Because he was so embarrassed that one of his great-great-great-grandfathers (that would be John Hathorne) was one of the judges in the Salem witch trials that he decided to add a ‘w” to his name to lessen any association with this relative.

We decided to forgo buying any “witch” souvenirs or get a “spiritual reading” on the way back to the hotel. We also ignored the individuals hawking nightly “candlelit ghost tours,” preferring to spend our evening eating.

Finz, one of the few restaurants on the Salem waterfront, could have been hit or miss. It was a warm evening and everyone wanted to sit outside. The place was larger than I had anticipated but luckily, unlike other places we’ve encountered this summer, they seemed to have adequate staff.

Oysters to start? Yes, please. A bottle of Hitching Post Pinot Noir to wash it all down? Absolutely! (I won’t go into my utter surprise at seeing this particular bottle of wine on the menu, but if you have read my book, you will know that Sideways is one of my favorite films and this particular wine features prominently in the movie. ) Did I mention we also had a view? As the sun was setting? Of a schooner?

The following morning we drove to Maine. Someone once told me that Maine is like Long Island except Long Island has better bread and Maine has better blueberries. As I’ve mentioned before, we hadn’t been to Camden, Maine, in 33 years. Before i-phones and Instagram, I wrote down where we traveled, sites we visited, and (obviously) what we ate in “composition” books that are nearly the same price now as they were then! I have since gone back to writing this way since I often find that while a photograph will accurately capture a place, my notes tend to convey the spirit of the moment.

I was pregnant with our first child back in July 1988 and here are a few of my observations.

July 25, 1988: “Tried Ben and Jerry’s for the first time! The chocolate was very rich and the chocolate chunks were good.” (Since I still only occasionally eat ice cream but am a purist and dislike ice cream that has “stuff” in it, I can only attribute my pregnant state to the fact that I ordered something with “chunks” in it. )

July 26, 1988: “Drove to town [Camden] after breakfast and it was so foggy you couldn’t see anything. Decided to get back in the car and take Route 1 to Bar Harbor. Along the way we saw one lobster pound after another; many of them had big vats of water boiling that were heated with wood fires. We came back to the [Whitehall] Inn to have an early dinner because dinner hours are short – 6:00-8:30. There are also no TV’s or phones in the rooms. I did see lots of puzzles and games in the “parlor” along with a whole bunch of Edna St. Vincent Millay memorabilia. After dinner though, it seemed like us, people didn’t quite know what to do with themselves – maybe everyone just goes to bed early.”

July 27, 1988: “From Camden we headed up to Quebec. The smell of pine trees and fresh cut lumber was incredible. We saw quite a few lumber trucks carrying enormous logs and every so often a few mills, too. We realized we were running low on gas and wanted to fill up before we crossed the border, so stopped at the first no-name gas station we found. When I asked our gas station attendant (a young high school kid) where we were, he replied, “Jackman, Maine, which is 50 miles from nowhere!” ( Read on about how history repeats itself 33 years later in the pursuit of gasoline.)

Let me talk about Edna first. According to my “sources” (that would be wikipedia), Edna would recite poetry and play the piano at the Whitehall Inn in Camden, Maine, during the summer months. Lucky for her, a wealthy arts patron was so impressed with her talent that she offered to pay for her college education at Vassar! Four words: “Way to go girl!”

While we had in fact stayed at the Whitehall Inn back in 1988, this time there was no availability. In fact, we couldn’t get a hotel room for two consecutive nights in Camden so ended up staying at an inn one night and a hotel the second night. Unlike 1988 though, the weather was perfect – sunny and hot and hazy.

But let me get back to the point before we got to Camden. Before lunch, we went in pursuit of lighthouses. After all, isn’t that what Maine is known for? Besides lobster and blueberries? As previously noted, back in 1988, the fog was so intense there were no lighthouses we could see. This time would be different; we started by visiting Owls Head Lighthouse. The minute we walked up the steps to their gorgeous tower, there was a light breeze and you could smell the sea. Gosh, the view! Just like a postcard!

Afterwards we stopped at Hills Seafood Co. in Rockland, ME, and had really delicious clam chowder and lobster rolls with fries and slaw. While this lunch was just as expensive as the crappy one we had in Salem, the chowder and the lobster roll were both delicious and worth it. (Hint: it turned out to be the best lobster roll of the trip.)

After lunch, the Rockland Breakwater lighthouse beckoned. I had read about this “walk” and thought “no problem.” Still, I wasn’t really prepared for all the big gaps between each of the enormous granite boulders. A sign before one ventured down the nearly two mile “walk” to the “house” at the end indicated one should make sure one was capable of the journey. Also one was admonished that “accidents” happen when one is not paying attention and above all to “look at your feet.” I took that advice seriously. Lynn held my hand, we were careful, walked slowly, and made it safely there and back. I’m really glad we did that walk. And, most importantly, it was fun!

Yes, the “artistic” me did in fact have to capture the green shutters on this lighthouse (which look black in the photo) especially because there’s so much seawater damage to the building and platform it’s on.

And then it felt like it took us forever to get to Camden. Why? Because of the traffic! It took us nearly 15 minutes to simply get from one end of Camden to the other. It reminded me of the awful drive one has to endure on a certain part of Sunrise Highway to get to any of the towns named “Hampton” on the South Fork of Long Island. At least I knew where most of the people who were visiting the Hamptons were from (hint: NYC). But people who were visiting Camden, where did they all come from? (A few years back I caught up with an old Munich friend and he told me he had visited the Hamptons one summer with his family. My only reaction to this was “why?”)

We checked into our inn and were told we were actually not staying there but rather in a house a few blocks away. Lynn and I looked at each other, got back in the car, and simply pulled out into traffic hoping no one would cut us off or rear-end our car. Looking at this insane traffic and all the people in this town, I’m just glad we had actually found a place to stay. (Fun fact: our server for breakfast the next morning informed us that Camden is a small “hamlet” of 4,000 residents year-round. That number apparently quadruples in the summer months. But I’m convinced it had actually octupled the two days we were there! )

Luckily, dinner-wise we had planned ahead. We had reservations both nights at two of the few restaurants in town that were open mid-week. Lunch, however, would became more difficult. I will talk about that later. Our first dinner was at Nathalie’s at the Camden Harbor Inn, a Relais & Chateaux hotel. To say I was impressed would be an understatement. Was it the menu? The service? The lovely amuse bouche? Maybe it was the funky decor? Wait, isn’t that the same Ikea table lamp we have at home except in a different color? Perhaps it was as simple as we hadn’t eaten out this “high end” in 18 months? Where should I start?

How about here: 1. Halibut ceviche. 2. A ring of cold poached shellfish with a bouillabaisse sauce in the middle. 3. Cod on a bed of quinoa and topped with crispy pork belly. 4. Raspberry sorbet “intermezzo” (not shown because I ate it before I remembered to take a picture). 5. Pork tenderloin with mushrooms and greens. And finally, since Lynn and Julie always prefer a cheese plate before the dessert, we did just that. If you are wondering if those are in fact beets on the “chocolate beet cake” with some raspberry sorbet, they are! (Full disclosure: the meal was a lot of money but it was the night before my birthday. I had wanted to stay at the hotel, too, but the rates were, to be honest, outrageous!) I’m just really happy we were privileged enough to eat dinner there and both the food and service were amazing.

Want to see the Ikea light I was talking about? And the Relais & Chateaux plaque? (Also focus on the mountain in the background which we’ll get to later.) I did ask our server if she had an extra Relais & Chateaux pin I could wear during the course of the meal. I started to go into a story about how when you were younger and got on an airplane, the “stewardesses” (yes they were always all women), would come around the cabin and hand out these little gold metal wings if you were a kid. I realized, however, she was very young and unless she had seen something like that in a movie (and remembered it), she had absolutely no idea what I was talking about. I didn’t get the pin but I still had a good time. And yes, the shellfish bouillabaisse was in fact my favorite dish. I mean, look at it; it was beautifully plated and tasted amazing.

We finished dinner and walked back to the Inn. How about a walk through town? How about a nightcap? Ha, Ha, Ha. Turns out like many resort towns we’ve been to, this one closes up at night. There wasn’t a bar or pub that was open. There were no cars or even people on the street! Seems that even 33 years later, (at least at night) not much has changed.

In the morning we checked out of the Inn and attempted to do some hiking. I specifically say “attempt” because once again I got sidetracked by people writing reviews of how “easy” the trail was to walk. But yet, when we got to the Maiden Cliff Trailhead, it proved too steep for my comfort level. We walked nearly half the way but found the roots were just insane. I mean, really, look at them!

I was more than happy when I saw a few signs that had been stapled to a couple of trees indicating that the trail ahead had eroded. This enabled me in good conscience to turn around. After all it was time for lunch!

I need to divert a bit and talk about the state of the restaurant industry. I read daily about the struggle to find workers and how to cope with the enormous demands “guests” are putting on these restaurants. I’ve seen restaurants post on social media that they can’t open because they are short-staffed, employees haven’t shown up, or worse, they’ve quit all together. But more and more I also read about guests who are hostile to those working in the industry. This saddens me deeply.

Case in point: in Camden, Maine, there is one particular restaurant that is on the water. We tried to go there for lunch only to hear the hostess say over and over again that the wait was 2+ hours and a table outside couldn’t be guaranteed. There were a lot of angry people raising their voices at this poor woman, yelling that they had a reservation, why weren’t they seated, and they had already been waiting nearly 45 minutes! I also noted that the parties who had been able to snag a coveted table didn’t have a single plate of food in front of them. I felt sorry for the staff but more importantly angry at the customers who hadn’t thought of a plan B.

We always have a plan B. We got in the car, drove six miles up the coast, and found a local lobster place. We ordered half a dozen oysters to start that were so large I almost thought we were on the Pacific not the Atlantic coast! Two lobster rolls, some onion rings, and a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc rounded out our lunch. It wasn’t the best lobster roll we had on the trip (which I’ve already revealed) but it came in a close second.) Plus, we were right on the water! And the lobsters we had just eaten were in the “holding” cages right in front of us.

Did I mention we realized half way to our Plan B that we were almost out of gas? Just like 33 years ago, we found a no-name gas station about eight miles away after eating lunch before heading back to Camden. But wait, first there was a state park that was demanding our attention. You could drive rather than hike up to the top of Mount Battie?

Isn’t the view of Penobscot Bay pretty? And there’s even a tower you can climb to truly feel “on top of the world.” And then I realized the night we had eaten at Natalie’s, we had been staring at Mount Battie all along!

And then, on the drive down Mount Battie, Lynn said, “Look, an owl!” I pulled over to the side of the road and proceeded to take about 100 pictures of this lovely animal. He/she was a bit shy but luckily, I got the shot I wanted. And, yes, I had never seen an owl before which is why I’m posting this picture three times!

After the adventures of our wonderful day and checking into the second hotel of our stay (run-of-the-mill with no amenities or staff) – a sign of the the future perhaps – we went to Franny’s for dinner. A first for us: a sign outside the restaurant saying “we are fully booked and even if you want to sit at the bar, a reservation was required.” I felt a tinge of guilt as I saw many couples approach the restaurant, look at the sign, shake their heads and walk away.

The restaurant is in a residential neighborhood in Camden, so your view (especially when sitting outside like we were) is limited to looking at houses across the street. It didn’t bother us though since our attention was on the food! Shrimp dumplings with a cucumber slaw; mussels in a cream and mushroom sauce; swordfish with grilled peaches and a yogurt drizzle; lamb chops with salsa verde, and finally, a delicious almond cake with strawberries and cream for dessert. After all this food, we walked around Camden, found a waterfall, but got a bit spooked that the town was so dark and deserted!

On our drive home from Maine, we decided it had been a good trip and resolved to come back in the fall when it will hopefully be less crowded. And I did in fact stop at a roadside stand to pick up some fresh blueberries. These, with the help of Marisa McClellan’s wonderful cookbook, Food in Jars, became my first attempt at making blueberry jam. I have to say, it turned out pretty darn good.

Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.

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Luggage, I Missed You!

Sooner or later we would have to start traveling again, right? We were both vaccinated and Lynn had finally recovered from his surgery long enough to sit in a car without me feeling like I was punishing him! So off we went!

We decided to start off small. Literally, stay someplace for one night; first of all to see if we felt comfortable staying in a hotel and eating INSIDE a restaurant. Plus, we had a list of state parks to visit thinking maybe we could squeeze in a hike or two. And, of course, there were a ton of wineries along the way that needed our attention.

We pulled onto the NY State Thruway ramp and two hours later stopped in Seneca Falls to have brunch at one of the few restaurants (84 Fall) that was open on a Sunday. We walked inside and they were packed! “Did we have a reservation?” the hostess asked us. We did not. She offered to seat us at the bar. The bar? We hadn’t sat at a bar in 18 months! “The bar would be perfect, ” I said.

I was so happy to be out again, sitting at a bar, having a drink, that I even ordered a Mimosa! Now people who know me know I detest Mimosas. One should not mix orange juice with champagne (or in this case sparkling wine) under any circumstances. But I figured I had to order one since it was “brunch,” and the drinks were only 99 cents a piece! I drank it; I didn’t gag, it was actually okay. Perhaps my taste buds had changed in the last year and a half?

My brunch entrée – sunnyside up eggs on a mound of “Utica Greens” was spicy and delicious. If you don’t know what “Utica Greens” are, it’s escarole that’s been cooked (usually boiled first then sautéed), and made “spicy” with peppers, maybe some bacon or pancetta, garlic (of course), and lots of grated Parmesan. I have only had this dish a few times in the last 11 years we’ve been up here and I have to say 84 Fall’s version was delicious. I mean, doesn’t this look really good?

After brunch, we drove to Seneca Lake. I need to share how wine tastings in this part of the world happened in the “early” days. You would simply show up at a winery, tastings were often free, and most times you simply stood at a makeshift table or counter to sample their wines. Now we are finding that more and more wineries are asking you to reserve a tasting in advance; you are seated at a table and given a tasting “menu.” It’s a much longer, but not necessarily enjoyable experience, especially if you realize very quickly that you don’t particularly like the wine they are pouring. Most of the time I think the view is really what you’re paying for. I mean, who doesn’t like to look at a beautiful lake or vineyards with grapes dripping off the vines?

We started by visiting Standing Stone, followed by Billsboro, and enjoyed both of their wines immensely. Then we checked into a cheap hotel (really, it was $105!) Which leads me to wonder why I always spent so much money on “Relais & Châteaux” wannabes! We had stayed at this particular Microtel in Geneva, NY, before, specifically to eat at Kindred Fare. In the old days (i.e., pre-COVID), given that it was a Sunday night, the place might have been half empty. Apparently, like us, everyone was “catching up” on all the dining out they had missed since nearly every table was taken both inside and outside of this establishment. Since we were last there, they had done away with the “chefs counter,” so we shared a long table with a three-top. Calamari and crispy chick peas with pickled onions to start? Yes, please!

In the morning, we headed to Letchworth State Park. It had been on my list of parks to visit for a while and I was anxious to see what all the fuss was about. Called the “Grand Canyon of the East,” I had seen pictures of the falls but didn’t really understand the enormity of all that rushing water.

First of all, the park is much bigger than I anticipated – 66 miles of hiking trails according to the NY State Park website. Luckily, there are many areas to pull over when driving through the park, so you have ample opportunity to see the cliffs and rock formations and take lots of photographs! We hiked the most difficult trail first (up and down what seemed like 1,000 stairs), and then drove a bit, parked, and just walked on a paved walkway to see the other two falls.

After all that hiking, we decided to have lunch. Who knew there was a full-service restaurant within the park? We went into the Glen Iris Inn and luckily they had a table outside for us. However, when we walked through the somewhat dismal-looking dining room, I looked at Lynn and gave him my “something is wrong here” look. When we reached our table I asked him, “Notice anything unusual walking through the dining room?”

He looked at me. I wasn’t going to wait for his response.

“No one had ANY food on their table,” I said.

We decided to order sandwiches. Luckily, for us, 10 minutes later, we both had decent turkey clubs and a couple bottles of Perrier. In any case, our lunch was perfectly fine and I thought the Inn looked pretty. After lunch, we walked over to the William Pryor Letchworth Museum and learned all about Mr. Letchworth’s life and his philanthropic efforts. Then we got back in the car and drove home.

By the next day, I had already started planning another getaway. Perhaps instead of just one night we could stay two and try the wineries we had missed? Maybe we could even venture up to both Lake Erie and Lake Ontario? Two Great Lakes in one day? (Yes, in fact, in that part of New York State between Buffalo and Niagara Falls, it’s totally doable. )

A Three Day Trip

We planned to start out the morning by hiking some trails in Clark Reservation State Park. Want to hear the stupid part of the story first? At the height of COVID last year, we went to quite a few state parks (even in the snow) just to get outside and thus, discovered we liked walking and hiking the trails. Prior to the current summer season, we decided to renew our Empire Pass, which for a low annual fee, gets you into all the NY State Parks for free. This particular park had a parking meter that lets you scan your Empire Pass. Once that’s done, the machine spits out a parking ticket with instructions to display it on the dash of your vehicle. I grabbed the ticket and turned around so quickly that I didn’t remember the very low fence that divided the parking lot from the meter. Which is how I lost my balance and tripped over the fence! Yes, I did in fact land right on my elbow and the wrist that I broke six years ago.

Lynn’s reaction: “what are you doing?” was actually pretty amusing. What did it look like I was doing? ( Let me note: I did not cry although I really do like crying and feel it is perfectly acceptable behavior under certain circumstances.) Lynn then started to fuss over me and talk so much (he’s not a talker) that I just had to tell him to be quiet. My concern was: did I break anything? (I didn’t think I did because I wasn’t really in excruciating pain and I remembered how bad my wrist hurt the last time I broke it.) Most disconcerting, however, there seemed to be quite a bit of blood oozing all over my shorts and dripping from my elbow. Luckily, we had packages of baby wipes in the car which Lynn kept handing to me and I rummaged around in our luggage and found some bandages, too! After sitting on the ground for a good 10 minutes while patting the “evil fence” I had tripped over, I got up, dusted myself off, bandaged my elbow (and my ankle, too, which was also bleeding), and then we started to walk.

After that dismal beginning, I was hoping for a more tranquil hike, but there were lots of rocks to climb over and portions of the trail were more than I wanted to deal with at that given moment. See what I mean with all these craters and cliffs we had to tackle?

We decided to cut our hike short and grab some lunch. Ever hear about The Inns of Aurora? In the town of Aurora? Neither had we. Apparently, this is a collection of old homes in the same town that were purchased and renovated by the founder of the “American Girl” doll stores and made into luxury boutique hotels. With most rooms ranging from $352 to $605 a night (yikes!), we weren’t staying there. We did have a decent lunch though at 1833 Kitchen & Bar inside the Aurora Inn which had a nice view of Cayuga Lake.

Then we got down to business: JR Dill Winery on Seneca Lake poured us some lovely reds that afternoon and gave us some pretty interesting “sculpture” to admire. Unfortunately, it was after 5 p.m., and with most wineries closing at that hour, we ran out of time to visit any others.

We stayed in Penn Yan for the evening and after a decent dinner at Union Block Italian Bistro (pasta, clams, wine, no dessert), we walked part of the Keuka Lake Outlet Trail. The trail view gave me this strange feeling that I was in Europe. I mean, look at this, doesn’t it look a bit like Amsterdam? Especially with the boat?

Burnt Rose Wine Bar

We walked back through town and were approached on the sidewalk by a friendly server who was standing outside a new wine bar that had just opened last week. “Would we like to come inside?” he inquired. Who could resist a new wine bar? Not I!

“Burnt Rose Wine Bar” is the new kid in town under owner Rose Curry and her chef-partner, Chet. She has curated an interesting wine list along with some small plates that I think will work beautifully in this area. Did I mention they also had someone playing piano that night which really gave the wine bar the European feel that I love? Alas, we had just finished dinner (as I mentioned), but I’m always up for another glass of wine! If you are visiting Penn Yan, you should definitely check them out.

In the morning, our continental hotel breakfast was waiting for us. Now, listen up, just because it’s “free” doesn’t mean you have to eat it! Lynn doesn’t eat cereal – ever. Why would he eat it on “vacation?” We found a local bakery, grabbed a couple of chocolate croissants and coffee, and hit the road.

Onto Our Next Stop

We managed a quick walk around Knox Farm State Park in East Aurora and thought we had enough time to have lunch before a scheduled 2 p.m. tour of the Roycroft Campus in the same town. The first restaurant we tried told us there would be a half-hour wait for a table. We kept walking, then decided to go back to the restaurant across the street from Roycroft. This restaurant was packed too, but they “found” a spot for us – a table that was crammed into an awkward corner with a view of a dirty brick wall. I asked our server whether a cold sandwich or salad could be delivered in 30 minutes (or less) to meet our tour appointment, and if not, to please let us know, and we would go someplace else. Said server never came back so after another 10 minutes of stupid indecision on our part, we walked back to a gas station we had seen that was serving this:

Yes, “Beef on a Weck!” Now, don’t even begin to think that I had lost my mind! Julie and Lynn eating at a gas station? (We’ve had many good meals at various “Autostradas” while driving through Italy. This was not such a place. ) However, it was actually a separate “establishment” inside the gas station. The woman behind the counter sliced the roast beef to order, then added a generous dollop of spicy horseradish, and a crunchy pickle on the side. We took the sandwiches back to the car and ate them in five minutes with a few minutes to spare before our tour started. And, really, I think not only was this a cheaper lunch ($7.99 for each sandwich) but probably WAY better than anything we would have eaten at either of those two restaurants.

P.S. If you don’t know what a “weck” is, it’s kind of like a Kaiser roll (but softer) with some Kosher salt and caraway seeds sprinkled on top.

The Roycroft Campus and Elbert Hubbard

I knew nothing about this collection of buildings or Mr. Hubbard. Now I do. Founded in 1897, Elbert (after working as a traveling salesman for the Larkin Soap Factory in Buffalo, NY), decided he wanted to become a writer and printer instead. So what did he do? He traveled to England to visit the British textile designer William Morris who was also a key figure in starting the arts and crafts movement. Most of the buildings on the “campus” Elbert built are still there and if you are a history and/or an arts and crafts aficionado, I think the tour and the museum are worth a visit.

Fun fact: I did not know that the word “chapel” (which one normally associates with a small church) actually derives from the medieval term for a “guild hall for printers.” Consequently, back then a “chapel” structure had no religious connotation at all. And the Roycroft symbol (shown below), was a copy of a symbol that medieval monks used to mark the end of their manuscripts. Elbert went one step further by putting an “R” on his publications; thereby, identifying manuscripts that were printed by the Roycroft Press. And, did anyone ever notice the “design” on an Oreo? Neither had I until this was pointed out to us on the tour.

Sad fact: Elbert Hubbard and his second wife, Alice, while traveling abroad, both died on the Lusitania off the coast of Kinsale, Ireland, after it was sunk by a German U-boat. (We’ve been to Kinsale and I don’t think I knew that the ship went down near there.)

We both enjoyed this highly educational visit and after our tour, we had one more waterfall on the agenda to visit. This one came with a twist – fire!

Eternal Flame Falls

I was prepared this time. There was no parking meter to pay, no fence to trip over. I changed into a sturdier pair of sneakers and even took out my hiking poles. The start of the trail started out flat and easy. What I wasn’t prepared for (again) were the rocks, tree roots, and having to descend into the slate creek bed itself which was only partially dry. Lynn held my hand (as he always does) when I come to the realization that some of the climbs we do are just too steep for my comfort level. (For some reason, I rarely have any problem climbing up; it’s just the slippery paths one has to climb down that make me tremble.) About 30 minutes after we began our descent (and after climbing over multiple fallen trees), we reached the “eternal flame.” The actual waterfall is pretty, but small, and yes, there is the smell of gas once you reach the flame.

And then we walked back to the car and drove towards Hamburg. Our destination after a quick shower at a cheap hotel (Comfort Inn $92/night!) was Lucia’s on the Lake. We had been there two years before and were wowed by both the food and the view of Lake Erie. Neither disappointed the second time around although management was blasting music that was in poor taste. (Eighties disco? Really?) We had oysters, lobster and scallop ravioli, a pear and arugula salad, halibut, and even a peach cobbler for dessert! The only let down was the lackluster wine list with nary a single Finger Lakes or Niagara Escarpment winery represented.

Doesn’t this just look yummy? Even so, I didn’t feel guilty after eating all this delicious food knowing the “steps” I had logged that day.


In the morning we continued. We drove up to Buffalo, towards Niagara Falls, waved to the Canadians on the other side of the Peace Bridge (figuratively, of course), and went to see Old Fort Niagara.

Located inside Fort Niagara State Park (but operated by a non-for-profit so there is an admission fee), there is a lot of history and beautiful sights to take in. The main focus is the “French Castle.” Not only is it the oldest building on the Great Lakes, but it survived the French and Indian War, the American Revolution, and the War of 1812! If you are traveling up to see any part of the Niagara region or even the Falls, I highly recommend a stop at this historical treasure.

Yes, I took about a zillion pictures of this place! If you look closely at the stained glass window, you will see two tiny sailboats on Lake Ontario! I have to assume my enthusiasm for this particular venue was because we hadn’t traveled since March 2020! Finally after visiting the fort, there were two more stops we had to make before we drove home later that day.

Chateau Niagara Winery And Lunch

Jim and Kathy Baker are the owners and winemakers of Chateau Niagara. Actually, my first impression of their low key tasting room (especially since there was no indication that they were open) was that one of them (or perhaps both) had to work a second job since there was a white stretch limo parked out front! Luckily, I was wrong. (Why, I thought this and not the obvious “bridal or birthday party outing” I have no idea.)

To say I was super impressed with all the wine we sampled that afternoon would be an understatement. Jim and Kathy make a bevy of French style wines as well as some interesting blends made with East European grapes. Their lineup includes: Pinot Noir, Cabernet Franc, Riesling, Chardonnay, Gewürztraminer as well as a delightful Saperavi and two blends (Trinity and Bulls Blood) that I thought were true palate pleasers. Jim also tried to explain to me a new wine he had crafted called “A La Mode” which you might think should be an ice cream topper or at the very least a dessert wine. “A La Mode” is a wine that has a pale yellow hue to it and consequently, looks like it should taste like a white wine. Wrong, it’s a wine that tastes like a red!

(Jim, if you are reading this, please roll your eyes; first at my crazy idea that you had to drive a limo because no one visited your winery. Now, bang your head against one of your wine barrels (but don’t hurt yourself) because I can’t even explain your delicious “A La Mode” wine to my readers or myself.)

Anyway, after spending nearly an hour with Jim and Kathy and their dog Fionn, we walked out with a wine club membership and a case of wine. I’d say that was a successful visit! And then we went to have lunch.

Have you ever been to the town of Medina? Have you ever even heard of the town of Medina? Neither had we! I’m not sure what’s going on in that town but there were people walking around on the streets! (If you live way upstate like I do, joking aside, sometimes it’s pretty unusual to actually see humans!) And, guess what, they have not one but two luxury boutique hotels! They also have a couple of restaurants, one of them being Zambistro that offered us lunch at their rooftop bar/restaurant with a narrow view of the Erie Canal.

We had grilled chicken panini with homemade potato chips which were decent. But what caught my interest on the dessert menu were “French cream puffs.” Did they actually mean “profiteroles?” Maybe it was the “a la mode” I had just tried at Chateau Niagara that made me think of ice cream. Or maybe, it was the fact that it was 4 p.m., we had just finished lunch and still had a 3.5 hour drive home. There are many desserts I can resist- profiteroles are not one of them. Full disclosure: they weren’t the worst profiteroles I’ve eaten, the ice cream was okay and the “stacking” was impressive. However, the type of chocolate used seemed to be an afterthought. And since I don’t particularly like milk chocolate, I had to deduct some stars for the execution of this dish.

And then we drove home. Next month, we will be traveling for a full five days to a more populated area (Cape Cod and Maine). We hope those who are traveling there as well will be kind to the people who are taking care of them on their journey. The hand written sign I found taped to a door on this current trip, I think sums it up perfectly. Ditto for Elbert Hubbard’s words which I think are still appropriate to this day.

Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.

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A Mohawk Valley Spring: A New Fence Project

Normally by this time of the year we would be planning a summer vacation and perhaps even a fall trip. However, since we, like the rest of the world, have been sheltering in place and avoiding people like the plague – oh wait, COVID is very much like a plague, our planning sessions are only in our “Dreams.”

While I do like the Irish band, The Cranberries, who perform that song so beautifully, we are extremely fortunate to have very green fields behind our Red House. This, luckily, reminds me of Ireland without having to travel there.

However, as everyone knows, being an “armchair traveler” as well as watching as many travel shows as possible (including StanleyTucci’s show “Searching for Italy” which nearly had me weeping), still doesn’t fill the void of not being able to travel. I miss the thrill of getting on a plane or in a car and having a new adventure. I miss seeing new buildings, visiting museums and above all trying different food!

I have overcompensated for this lack of travel by cooking and baking. Homemade gravlax with some chopped red onions, dill and capers? Yes, please! How about a Yukon Gold potato and goat cheese tart in a puff pastry crust? Absolutely!

I spent most of March promoting my new book, Get In The Car: A Food and Travel Memoir. This entailed pouring through old CD’s, revisiting photo albums and searching through my iCloud account for photographs I could use to advertise the book. The challenge was to find the one or two photographs that would accurately portray what the book was about. More often than not, I simply couldn’t decide which photograph to use so would post a few of the ones I thought worked best on social media.

Besides photographs, we also have a lot of great posters that Lynn and I have collected on our many travels. Promoting the chapter about Vienna, all I needed was to take a photograph of the detailed drawing of the “Post Sparkasse” that is hanging in my dining room. And if you are thinking about Paris, so am I. And London and Venice, too! (You know it’s gotten pretty bad when “House Hunters International” becomes your favorite show to watch on TV. )

By the way, all of these photographs were shot by me. I find looking at photographs (and being a decent photographer) helps me when I’m writing. Not only can I visualize the scene I want to put my characters in, but it helps them interact and “talk” to each other. I’m particularly fond of the night shot I managed to capture of the Eiffel Tower on one of our trips to Paris.

If you look at it closely though, the area seems pretty desolate. Lynn and I had just finished dinner and were attracted by the lights of the Tower so we walked towards it. We ended up in a neighborhood we weren’t that familiar with and since two out of the three times we’ve been to Paris there has been a bombing (1986 and 2017 but not 2003), we quickly walked away. Since Paris is still in “lockdown” until the end of the month, I can only assume that these days much of Paris looks like the scene above.

But gearing up for spring, attention must be paid to the garden and specifically the fence. Back in 2010, we put up what we thought would be a temporary enclosure with the assistance of my father. He claimed since he was a “helper” and most importantly, definitely not the “handy type,” that surely the garden fence should have been on the “National Register of Historic Places.” I actually thought that was pretty funny!

Not so funny though is 11 years later, how truly awful the fence looks. Constructed originally just to keep the deer and the rabbits from eating our vegetables and flowers, I’m amazed it actually didn’t fall down (in spite of Dad’s help) because of our very cold and snowy winters.

Here’s what this “beauty” looks like today- rusted gate hinges and all.

Hiring someone to install a new fence wasn’t even a conversation Lynn and I had. We thought we’d order some of that “no dig” fencing, get a really strong rubber mallet, pound it into the ground and hope it would work. We also hoped it would last as long, if not longer, than the first one.

Of course we gave ourselves a “deadline” to do this project. We have about four weeks or so not only to get the garden into shape (weeding, pruning, raking, etc.), but also get all the vegetables and herbs I had purchased from a CSA farm share I bought in January planted.

To take my mind off all this work and to try out a new kitchen “toy” I had purchased earlier in the year (but never used), I decided to take my dehydrator out for a “test run.” This came about because I love chives, especially dried ones. I found myself getting angrier and angrier every time I had to shell out $5 (or more) on a small bottle of chives just so that I could have scrambled eggs with chives! It must be a European thing, I know, but it just makes a potentially shitty day so much better if you at least have the illusion of a “fancy” breakfast in the morning.

These gorgeous goldenrod-colored eggs are from one of my favorite farmers – Jones Family Farm. We’ve known Peter and Suzie Jones since we bought the house and I’m so honored to be able to not only purchase healthy food from them but am humbled by their back-breaking work.

But first, the barrel that the chives had been growing in for probably 20 years before we got here finally collapsed and we had to get a new one. After much heavy lifting, more splinters in our hands that we care to mention, plus the fact that the new bucket had a “Jack Daniel’s” sticker stapled on the side, should have given me a hint. Yes, the wood did in fact smell like whiskey! Would my chives become whiskey-laced, too? (The answer to that is no.)

I thought for sure when we replanted the chives into their new “home” that they would rebel. Would they “kick the bucket” by dying? (They didn’t, they cooperated.) Which is why even a mere two weeks after lifting up the entire chive “hedge” (really it was so heavy it looked like it was a small hedge) and dumping it into its new Jack Daniel’s “digs,” it began to grow profusely.

So a few days ago I decided to read the manual for the dehydrator not realizing that I would need between six to ten hours to “dry” said chives before they could be properly stored. (Don’t you just hate when you read a recipe and realize whatever you are thinking of making is going to take you 2-3 days?) I actually didn’t think it would work. And now I also know why dried herbs cost so much! The drying time alone has got to be a money loser. Here’s my new toy and the progression of the drying process. As you can see, two large racks in the dehydrator yielded less than half of a small glass jar when all was said and done.

I will definitely cut the chives smaller next time and experiment a bit with drying other herbs, too. But since I have an abundance of chives and time, I relish not having to spend money on herbs I can dry myself.

Meanwhile, it’s been raining so our fence installation project is on hold. I did manage to rake up some dead grass and leaves as well as the remains of last year’s various vegetables. And I am very happy to see the tulips that I planted in a variety of colors are blooming!

I needed a lunch break after all this activity and when I looked outside, who did I see but Mr. Bunny! I’m actually not sure if he is a boy or girl bunny but I like to call “it” Mister just for fun. And where is he sitting? Right in front of the fence gate we are about to remove and replace. I will mention that Mr. Bunny seems to be a lot fatter than he was last year. And his little nose was pointing in the direction of the part of the garden he particularly likes to try and get into – where lots of good things to eat like lettuce and broccoli and sometimes, carrots, too, will be planted.

I tried to photograph him but he is very quick to run away. And like many rabbits you see in illustrated children’s books, he has the most adorable white bottom! And most importantly, he has a tremendous hop! Speaking of children’s books, I started perusing my bookshelves for something new to read. (I have also started to compare my “volumes” with all the talking heads I see nightly on TV but tune out to what they are saying just to see what books they have behind them on their shelves.) I picked up an old copy of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s book The First Four Years and truthfully, even though I was an advanced reader at a young age, I wondered how I got through it.

“For it was June, the roses were in bloom over the prairie lands, and lovers were abroad in the still, sweet evenings which were so quiet after the winds had hushed at sunset.” Laura Ingalls Wilder wrote.

Reading this sentence now, I can see the roses blooming across the prairie and appreciate the winds lessening at sunset, but did I at the age of ten? (The book though written in the late 1940’s wasn’t published until 1971.)

On that note, it would be lovely to be “abroad” – using the word as in visiting a foreign country rather than in the context of lovers walking over a wide area. Hopefully, at least by the end of this year we will be able to at least “hop away” for a while so that we, like “Mr. Bunny,” can see some different pastures.

Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.

My new book Get In The Car: A Food and Travel Memoir is available on Amazon.

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Get In The Car

My new book, available on Amazon (2/2021) in both paperback and Kindle version, is a food and travel memoir. Written in 2008 (and just published this year), it’s the story of traveling with my husband, Lynn and two children. Canada, California and numerous European countries are some of the places we visit. Join us for the ride.

Here’s the link: https://www.amazon.com/GET-CAR-Food-Travel-Memoir/dp/B08WZFTWDM/ref=sr_1_2?dchild=1&keywords=julie+mccoy+get+in+the+car&qid=1614963641&sr=8-2#reader_B08WZFTWDM

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Shopping, Canning and “Hiking” As We Know It

It’s been a while since I have written. Our summer, like those of many people we know, was highly unusual. First and foremost, we tried to stay as close to home (within a three hour drive at least) as possible. I did miss “road trip” traveling this summer and being home more than usual, I found myself gravitating towards movies on TV that had scenes of Europe. (We were supposed to go back to Italy this year.)

One night Chocolat was on and I found myself looking fondly not only at Johnny Depp but also at Juliette Binoche who plays the character of “Vianne.” (Fun fact about Julie: I love windy days!) Consequently, when Vianne and her daughter Anouk travel to a new town “whenever the north wind blows” and somehow come up with a magic chocolate recipe that becomes their livelihood, well, that just made me want to travel even more.

I’ve always been a traveler and this blog was supposed to reflect that. Consequently, not being able to travel this summer because of the pandemic was a challenge. Therefore, we made do. Unfortunately, I traded in traveling for online shopping. Yes, I became one of those awful people who would eagerly wait every day for our local postman, UPS woman or FedEx guy to walk up our very long driveway, dutifully carrying the stuff we purchased.

They, invariably, wore a smile as they worked and I would thank them profusely for delivering all the things we ordered. Granted, some of the items purchased weren’t necessary but ultimately some of them came in very handy.

Two summers ago I had bought Marisa McClellan’s book, Food In Jars , but had not attempted a single recipe! When I tried to order the jars that I needed, I found that all the mason jars to be had in the entire Northern Hemisphere were back-ordered for at least 2 months. This would have been fine had it been May (the beginning of the growing season) but not August when suddenly I had tons of green beans that would be perfect to “put up!” Beets and garlic were showing up in the farmer’s markets, too, and tomatoes, well, let’s just say there were lots and lots of tomatoes that were waiting to be canned.

One day after my now nearly daily visit to the supermarket, I found some amber-colored jars and even though they were “wide-mouthed,” I bought them anyway. I learned to can “dilly” beans and ginger-infused beets but when I put them in the dark jars it came to me. The reason no one buys dark canning jars is because you can’t see what’s inside! Luckily, a couple of my beans managed to edge their way to one side so I could at least distinguish between the beans and the beets.

I also finally got to use a huge pot I had bought years ago with every intention of perhaps trying to steam my own lobsters. I never actually did that, preferring to buy them already cooked but luckily this pot turned out to be the perfect size and height for submerging mason jars in preparation for canning. When I realized you need lots and lots of mason jars when canning enormous amounts of produce (not just four!), I went back online and found some pint-sized ones with a delivery date of only three weeks. (A month later those same mason jars had also doubled in price but I ordered them again anyway.)

I also learned to make my own lobster rolls (buying the aforementioned lobsters already steamed for the awesome price of $5.99 a pound). Then I began to wonder why all these years (last summer in particular when we were driving through Maine towards Prince Edward Island) we were paying $25.00 or more for a mediocre lobster roll for lunch! (Second photo is one of my really yummy lobster rolls not an over-priced restaurant version.)

Then there were the tomatoes! Yikes, I think I now know why people easily can cucumbers to make pickles and buy tons of berries to make jam but do you know how many tomatoes you need to make sauce? You literally need a box full of tomatoes that will (if you’re lucky) yield less than a dozen jars of delicious, but thin (imagine V-8) sauce.

Besides canning, Lynn and I decided to start hiking. Since we live a mere 30 minutes from one section of the Adirondack Park, there was really no reason not to walk. Problem was, everywhere we went, there were tons of people hiking as well. We decided to try and limit our outings to only going out during the week (weekends being verboten) only to discover that many others had a similar idea.

We walked up Kane Mountain – a challenge for me before I bought a good walking stick since I’m not only afraid of heights but I had trouble catching my breath when hiking up and down the mountain. (I was never a smoker just out of shape.) I also didn’t expect to find all those tree roots! If you are as inexperienced a hiker as I am, one little root could definitely send you falling either on your face or your behind!

But as they say, if you don’t do the climb, you don’t get the view. Here’s the tower I managed to climb!

And here’s the reward:

After that challenge though, we opted for more sedate hikes. We sought out rail trails and easy paths always hoping for something with a view.

We bought hiking poles, an insulated backpack for these journeys and always made sure to have a cooler in the car for unexpected farm stands.

We visited numerous state parks and collected many rocks on the shoreline of Lake Ontario.

We revisited Chimney Bluffs near Wolcott, NY, and discovered Tibbetts Point Lighthouse which overlooked the Saint Lawrence River.

We hiked quite a few trails in the Adirondack Park but also drove miles both north and south of us in search of the perfect waterfall.

The summer had been very dry so every time we drove two hours plus we were happy if the water was actually cascading over the rocks and not just a trickle.

We frequently packed a lunch, usually a sandwich or bagel (plus I would begrudgingly pack potato chips for Lynn since he loves chips) but made sure to also pack some fresh fruit. We would occasionally try to visit a winery during the week (thinking that weekends would be more crowded) only to find that similar to our hiking adventures, many of these establishments were just as packed on a sunny Tuesday!

When we ate out, we would only eat at establishments where we could sit outside. And the menu had to have at least one item that I couldn’t (or wouldn’t) make myself. (See the problem with being a decent home cook?) Most of the time we got lucky; look at this beautiful version of a “Falafel Scottish Egg” as the topping on a bed of arugula encased in a cucumber “ring” while lying in a pool of Romesco sauce! (We had this lovely appetizer for lunch one day at the Otesaga Hotel in Cooperstown. )

When we weren’t out “wandering,” we would hang out on the deck. We would fight (yes, literally) over who got to water the vegetable garden in the back of the house and the flowers and bushes in the front of the house. (Hey, it was an activity.)

In between I baked. A pound cake baked in a Bundt pan seemed like a good idea at the time even though it was big enough to feed eight! A quiche is always a welcome lunch addition and I even tried to make chocolate-filled brioche courtesy of a Dorie Greenspan recipe. (They were belly-bombs!)

We bought a new grill which resulted in me trying to find something to grill that I hadn’t made before. Wait! Want to see the instructions on “how to put the grill together?”

How about an Eric Ripert recipe for grilled romaine that’s slathered with mayonnaise, Parmesan and some anchovy paste? What about a Mediterranean spin (that would be olives and tomatoes) on some home-grown asparagus?

The few times we did take-out, we often had to drive 60-70 miles to bring home sushi or oysters on the half shell. (That sounds reasonable, right?)

And on those days that I was working, we would have salad, or my old 1970’s standby, tomatoes stuffed with homemade tuna salad.

And then there was the sand box. I decided we needed a swing so Lynn built a sandbox, too. We hung up the swing (also purchased online) and one windy day (scenes of Chocolat perhaps?), the branch snapped. In hindsight, was I perhaps trying to swing my way to a make-believe travel adventure? Of course, it wasn’t a clean break but a messy, dangling break that required an amputation!

We even blew up a large kiddie pool complete with beach balls and a couple of “donut” floats. (We never did get the pool level even after three months!)

And purchased some new chairs and a fire pit!

Our children came to see us a few times this past summer and we were careful to social distance and eat outside. When we were inside, we kept the patio doors wide open and they, and their respective partners, were kind enough to get COVID tested before they came up for a visit. Each and every time after they left though Lynn and I both felt sad. (We miss them!)

Going into the fall season, we’ve been hiking a bit less but at least trying to walk closer to home. We walk along the Erie Canal nearly every day (even in the rain) and try to find some paths we haven’t explored yet. One day, we found the remains of an abandoned building, reminding us just how prosperous the town was way back when.

In the meantime, the minute the weather started to get colder, I made dumplings and my version of Ramen.

Now that we are a few days away from turning back the clocks and going into true fall season, we’ve started to put all our outdoor “toys” away. We got the snowblower repaired (it broke last season) and put extra mulch on our rose bushes.

We visited an orchard the other day to get some apples since my second order of mason jars finally arrived and making apple sauce is on my “to do” list. I was also very tickled at the sight of our Amish farmers stack of pumpkin decorations.

Is it too soon to look forward to next summer? I believe so, especially “whenever the north wind blows.”

Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.

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Some Milestone Memories

Just a few weeks ago here in the Mohawk Valley we thought spring was upon us. The tulips were blooming and the bamboo started to grow back as well. Then we woke up one morning to snow.

It gave me time to reflect on how life takes unexpected turns and weather even more so. Since we have been sheltering in place like millions of people all over the world during this pandemic, Lynn and I have spent a lot of time together. Luckily, we never run out of things to talk about – mostly we discuss places we’ve traveled to with a couple of foodie meal reminiscences thrown in for good measure. It’s precisely because we have traveled so much that I’ve come to realize how many memories we have shared together.

“I spoke to you first,” my husband Lynn said to me at dinner the other night. “You know, I kept seeing you on the elevator but you ignored me.”

I had to laugh when he said this to me. I had heard the story before but now that we have been home together every single day and night (except for the occasional trip to the supermarket, liquor store or pharmacy), I actually had time to think about way back when. Full confession: I don’t remember seeing him on an elevator! I don’t think this makes me a terrible person or bad wife, it just means I remember things differently.

For example, I remember the day we met at a dorm party. It was October 6, 1979 and I even remember what I was wearing (white jeans, light blue top). But it makes me wonder, on the day we “officially” met, could we have ever envisioned 41 years later that we would be sheltering in place in a Big Red House a mere 75 miles from where it all started? Highly unlikely.

Want to see what I looked like back then? Yes, I did in fact prefer to wear peasant skirts and a BLOUSE!

Prior to our purchasing the Red House, we used to spend a lot of time in California; January after the holidays (our Christmas gift to each other) and again in September/October for our anniversary and hopefully also timing it with “crush” if we were in Northern California. Who wouldn’t want to look at beautiful vineyards filled with grapes, drink copious amounts of wine and drive the coast – especially with views like this?

If we weren’t in California, then we were in Europe. Often we even took the kids. The first and only time we have been to Berlin we took them with us. If I went back to Berlin now and revisited the Brandenburg Gate, I would probably wonder where they had wandered off to.

Lynn and I have also been fortunate to have traveled to Paris many times. But to this day, even if it’s just the two of us in Paris, I still think of Nicholas skateboarding in front of the Eiffel Tower!

And Rachel? Could she have posed for a picture any prettier than in Monet’s garden in Giverny?

During this pandemic, I started to think about all the family trips for other families that may never happen. What about first dates and chance encounters that are missed? Remember the scene in Back to the Future where Michael J. Fox (playing the character Marty McFly) realizes that if his parents don’t meet and you know, kiss big time, he, himself, would not have been born. And remember how he then spends a good part of the movie watching himself slowly fade away on a photograph he’s holding in his hand? That’s how I kind of feel these days about memories that aren’t happening.

Would our life together have been different if we had never gone to California? This picture of us (one of my favorites actually) wouldn’t exist. Would we understand and appreciate farm to table cooking and good wine as much?

What if we had never traveled with our kids? Rachel never would have been standing on a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

And what about smooching the Blarney Stone? There wouldn’t be a photograph of the four of us standing on the ramparts of the Blarney Castle in Ireland. (P.S. I didn’t kiss the rock, I just looked at it.)

These past few weeks I’ve started to think not only of trips we’ve made together but of birthdays we celebrated too.

Here’s the cake that I made for Rachel’s birthday 10 years ago!

That was the cake for the “family” party. She also had a sweet 16 and celebrated with some of her girlfriends with a limo ride and dinner at a popular restaurant in NYC. She’s so beautiful here in her dress!

How many of these milestone events now during our “stay at home” order will have to be spent at home and not celebrated according to plan? Will these celebrations ever be made up or will we just do something on a smaller scale or ignore them totally and move on?

One of my nieces, Daniella, shared some of her thoughts with me about not having the sweet 16 party she was supposed to have. She wrote, “I really wanted to go to school for my birthday to see my friends and everything but school got canceled 3 days before. And then we found out on my birthday that the restaurant was closed…so everyone came over for pizza that night. I was supposed to have a party and that never happened. And we were supposed to see a Broadway play and that’s been postponed. ”

She also mentioned other friends whose parties keep getting pushed back and knows friends who have “just sat at home on their birthday.” She told me she really “did luck out” with the small gathering she was able to have in her honor.

I think that’s a really good attitude to have these days.

This Memorial Day weekend is bittersweet. Usually by this time of year I’m struggling with the stress of what we call the “end of the school year finish line.” But since I’m working from home these days, the finish line is a lot easier. Normally, Lynn and I have already mapped out summer vacation plans or at least a road trip or two. This year we were thinking about going back to Nova Scotia – an area we haven’t visited in 30 years. We were also thinking about a repeat visit to Frank Lloyd Wright’s Fallingwater in Pennsylvania on the way to Nashville.

Then there is Lake Superior. It’s the only one of the “Great Lakes” we haven’t seen together. And when I get an idea in my head about doing something or going somewhere, eventually I make it happen. Apparently, that won’t be the case this summer.

It’s probably the traveling part that I miss the most coupled with the knowledge going forward that there may be no travels whatsoever for us anytime soon. Does this mean we will simply be “camping” forever at the Red House?

I think this is actually okay. We’ve managed to finally catch up on some overdue home projects. After all, it’s been a little less than a year since we permanently moved up to the Mohawk Valley. And yes, believe it or not, there is still one box that hasn’t been unpacked because it’s filled with pictures and some art work that either needs to be framed and/or hung on a wall.

There has also been quite a bit of gardening. I even bought myself a new pair of gardening gloves which I found particularly charming in that they bizarrely had my paternal grandmother’s name stitched on the side.

I realize that this sheltering in place has not only compromised our lifestyle but made us redefine family and home. Now we spend days deliberately and carefully avoiding any contact with anyone. There are signs taped on the floor of one of the few stores we frequent – directing us where to stand and which direction to walk. And always reminding us to “social distance” and remain six feet apart.

Meanwhile, the deer on our property obviously aren’t following the “rules,” they are congregating in larger groups than we’ve seen before.

But I have to think that this pandemic has compromised so many memories. So much of our childhood and young adulthood relies on certain milestones – whether it be a sweet 16 or school graduation. To make matters even worse, it’s the elderly parents and grandparents who can’t celebrate these milestones with us. I’ve seen pictures of people waving to their parents and grandparents through a window. This saddens me. What about those folks who are deemed too “vulnerable” to even go outside to shop or take a simple walk in case they are exposed to the virus? What memories will they have other than of being stuck at home?

Pictures, of course, help immensely in trying to remember how life had been. But you can’t take a photograph of an important milestone if the milestone doesn’t happen.

I mean, look at sweet Nicholas when he won a plaque for competing in a karate tournament on Long Island!

Or Rachel on her first trip to France when I asked her to turn around so I could photograph her in the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles!

Meanwhile, as we prepare for the summer months, it’s good to spend time outside; gardening (as mentioned) helps immensely. Most of the vegetables are planted and I’m working on a new planter box filled with herbs as well.

This is a photograph I took of a mural painted on a hotel room wall in St. Paul de Vence one summer when we were traveling through the south of France. It’s quite lovely isn’t it? Sigh, I do miss that life.

There’s a lot of time for reflection these days. Lynn and I have been lucky. We don’t know anyone personally who has gotten sick or died from COVID-19. We do know many people who have lost their jobs and are struggling with meager unemployment checks and countless bills to pay. We have tried to help our local farmers by purchasing CSA shares and shopping at their small farm stands when we can. We have tried to limit our online shopping, choosing instead to support local butchers and bakers and liquor stores. We play a lot of Scrabble. We have watched more TV than we normally do but we try to limit the amount of news we watch because it’s just too depressing. We have repeatedly cleaned the house and organized drawers and thought of even more projects to do both inside and outside our home.

Actually, like my niece Daniella wrote, I think we did “luck out.” And while I miss our travel life , I’m okay with this new “normal. ”

Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.

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Teaching Myself To Cook One Pot Meals

Last weekend I challenged myself in the cooking arena. I pretended I didn’t know how to cook and found three New York Times recipes and one recipe from Food & Wine that I thought I would “try” to make. These were supposed to be simple one-pot meals, which as many working families know, is a blessing if you are trying to put together a quick dinner.

When we were living on Long Island, I would spend a good portion of every Sunday afternoon cooking for the kids (and us) to make sure there were at least a couple of decent meals I could simply warm up in the oven during the week. As a full-time working mother, I often wouldn’t be home until 6 p.m. and Lynn (when he was lucky) wouldn’t be home until nearly 7:30 p.m. In other words, I needed all the ready-to-go meal help I could get!

Over the years, I had developed a few simple meals that I would make repeatedly. Chili, roast chicken, meat sauce for pasta, and schnitzel. I was able to rotate these simple dishes for quite a few years until the kids grew up. Luckily for me, they both got after school jobs at an early age and often just ate whatever they could grab on the run.

I had learned to cook at an early age. I was not even a teen (12 to be precise) when cooking was an activity I really enjoyed. Even back then I could be trusted to put together some sort of chicken or pork dish in a mushroom cream sauce, make crepes (sweet and savory) and even dessert (usually cookies or a cake). Living in Munich, Germany, also had a lot to do with it. I wasn’t into sports, television didn’t come on until after 6 p.m., and there are only so many books a young girl could read!

To set myself up for this weekend challenge I decided I would try to follow the recipes exactly as they were written. This was a bit difficult for me because as I read through some of them, I knew not only was there a better way to do it, but sometimes even a better ingredient could have been included in the dish. Plus, since I’ve been cooking so long (over 46 years at this point – gulp!), I only follow a recipe when I have to bake.

First Dish – Shrimp Scampi With Orzo

I always have a bag of frozen shrimp in my freezer. This may have something to do with me always hoping for “unexpected” guests and being able to whip up some sort of shrimp dish in a hurry if I have to. The fact that I’ve never once in my entire life had an “unexpected” guest visit anyplace I’ve lived is irrelevant. Therefore, since I had the shrimp already, the only thing I would need to purchase for this first dish was a box of orzo. Everything else was already in my pantry, too.

I cleaned the shrimp and cooked the orzo. Luckily the night before I had watched a Jamie Olivier cooking show where he added raw shrimp to a dish of pasta he was cooking. I usually like to cook shrimp before I add it to any other ingredient that’s already cooked. The fact that he was so nonchalant about adding raw shrimp to the pasta gave me the courage I needed to do the recipe exactly as written.

The orzo cooked up very quickly as did the shrimp. When it was done, I thought there was a bit too much liquid. Yes, there was lots of parsley and white wine which I love but I found even the spritz of lemon at the end was overwhelming. I’ve made my own version of this dish in the past, adding some roasted tomatoes and chunks of feta which gives it the creaminess I think this dish was lacking. Here’s a picture of The New York Times version, followed by mine.

Second Dish – Cheesy Baked Pasta with Radicchio

The next night I put together a baked pasta with radicchio that I had seen in Food & Wine. The challenge here was two-fold. First, where the hell was I going to find radicchio in upstate New York without driving an hour east to a Whole Foods or an hour west to Wegmans?

Luckily, a 10 minute drive to the over-priced Hannaford supermarket in the next town proved they could sometimes surprise you. They did in fact carry radicchio and low and behold they actually had three whole heads for a mere $4.99 a pound! (Note the sarcasm here, please.)

I picked up the radicchio that looked the least wilted and was actually bizarrely happy that I found it so close to home. I mean really, look at the color of this vegetable! Yep, I did play around with this image courtesy of Instagram but it shows the layers really well this way.

The supermarket also had prosciutto on sale which was a plus since I needed it for the dish, too. I sauteed the red onions, sliced the radicchio into ribbons as instructed and added the garlic and red wine vinegar. I cooked the pasta and then poured it into a buttered baking dish. Normally, I don’t like any pasta (other than lasagna) that’s baked, particularly macaroni and cheese. I could never understand why cooks insist on putting a breadcrumb topping on such a classic American dish. To me, the whole point of mac and cheese is to eat creamy mac and cheese not breadcrumb-dry mac and cheese. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I mixed together the goat cheese but substituted gouda for the fontina cheese because fontina was nowhere to be found. I also omitted the nutmeg because I simply don’t like nutmeg. As I made my way through the steps of this dish, I thought cooking all of these ingredients separately was just WAY TOO TIME CONSUMING. I thought about how quickly I can usually put together a simple cheese and veggie pasta dish (which is basically what this dish consisted of). Had I not been doing this “cooking exercise,” I don’t think I would have baked this dish either.

Was it cheesy? Yes and it actually tasted better the second day because all the flavors had time to sit and simply blend together.

Here’s a picture of Food & Wine’s version, followed by mine.

Besides the pasta that day I also whipped together a “simple crusty bread” recipe that I hadn’t made in years. Originally, I thought it was the same recipe my Dad uses when he makes bread but alas, I was incorrect. This New York Times recipe got a ton of press when it came out in 2007 because it had four simple ingredients (yeast, kosher salt, water and all-purpose flour) that you just mix together. How could you go wrong?

As I was trying to maneuver the dough into the pan I was using, I remembered why I hated this recipe. The dough was so wet it was physically impossible to pick up! Plus, more than one-quarter of it kept sticking to my fingers, my hands and the countertop. Also, I really like kneading dough and this recipe omits that step.

The dough did rise however and I took it out of the oven when I “thought” it was done. Looking back it should have cooked about 10 more minutes to get a crispier crust and not have such a dense interior.

Meanwhile back on the farm (just kidding), it was really cold outside. So cold in fact that there were these really long icicles that were hanging off the roof of the house! In addition to the cold, the wind was howling outside, truly sounding like a freight train. When we woke up in the morning (after getting a nice glimpse of a crescent moon and Venus the night before), I opened the fridge and almost everything was frozen! What had happened overnight?

The only thing I can figure out is that the fridge is right next to a window and perhaps the cold air just kept blowing into that area all evening? This meant that the potatoes I had bought to make that night’s adventure in cooking dish had frozen, too! I tried to salvage some of them but just found myself getting angry that I had spent money on food I then couldn’t eat.

Want to see the icicles?

Third Dish – Salmon With Potatoes and Horseradish-Tarragon Sauce

At one point I owned Chef George Lang’s cookbook “The Cuisine of Hungary” but alas I think I lost it in the last move! That said, the fact that this was his recipe intrigued me especially since 1) I love salmon, 2) I love horseradish and 3) I love sour cream! (After all my great-grandmother was from Hungary.)

I sliced the few potatoes that didn’t have “frost bite” as paper thin as I could without the aid of a mandoline. (I’m terrified of mandolines.) I put them in a baking dish as instructed and added some shallots. This is what they looked like after cooking for about 20 minutes.

Then I mixed together some sour cream, tarragon and horseradish. I was supposed to “brush” the sauce on top of the salmon that would then be placed on top of the potatoes. When I did this, however, the sauce ended up looking like frosting and even after the salmon had cooked, it still looked that way! Which was really kind of weird.

See what I mean?

The salmon was very moist prepared this way though and I loved the sauce and the potatoes. Bottom line: I would make this dish again.

Fourth Dish – Dijon Chicken With Shallots and White Wine

Holy Moly. This recipe called for 12-15 medium shallots! I had bought six, used one for the above-mentioned salmon dish which meant I had five left. I thought five would be more than enough, after all these were kind of big anyway.

I melted some butter in a frying pan and sauteed the chicken as instructed. First problem was that the chicken thighs didn’t get as brown as I thought they should. Since I didn’t want to “cheat” by putting them in the oven (which would have given them the brown color I was looking for), I just left them on the stove and added the rest of the ingredients.

This recipe had a lot of wine, almost too much I thought. Ditto for the tomatoes. But the sauce, when it reduced, was really good and ultimately even though the bread didn’t turn out as planned, I grilled up a couple of slices and we ate it with the chicken. If I make this dish again though, it’s definitely going in the oven!

Ultimately, I liked making all of these dishes. It was actually kind of fun to pretend not to know how to cook and follow a recipe pretty much exactly. I do think, however, they might have been too difficult for your average person who doesn’t know their way around a kitchen or even how to shop for some of the ingredients. Luckily for me, this adventure was motivated by the cold weather outside and me wanting to stay inside. After all, we only turn the TV on at night and there really is only so much even this “older” girl can read.

Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.

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Philadelphia: Plus A Few Stops Before And After

Lynn and I had been to Philadelphia a few times. We had taken the kids to do the usual touristy things (Liberty Bell and Independence Hall) but we had never spent more than 24 hours there. This time would be different. There were a few new museums we wanted to see, restaurants we wanted to try and most of all a walking tour we wanted to go on.

First thing I have to mention though is how incredibly dirty Philadelphia seemed. I started researching this and it’s been an ongoing problem that doesn’t seem to have gotten any better in posts dating back over a decade. People complain about the trash but nothing seems to have improved! Driving into the city we were baffled by the amount of debris and plastic we saw everywhere. I mean people were even throwing out what looked like a brand new teddy bear! Truthfully it made NYC seem like the cleanest city on earth!

We had tickets to see a new play that weekend but first we visited the University of Pennsylvania to see Louis Kahn’s Richards and Goddard buildings – a medical research lab and classrooms. I’ve found that many of these so-called “modern” buildings of the time (1960) have not weathered well. This seemed in better shape than most but still cement does crumble and steel does corrode.

Dinner that night was at a restaurant we had eaten at before. Stephen Starr’s classic take on a French bistro, Parc, located on Rittenhouse Square, never disappoints. Yes, it’s crowded, yes, it’s noisy, but the food is consistently good. Dinner that night: escargots, lamb shank, cassoulet and for dessert a plate of profiteroles.

In the morning we headed over to the Old City and decided to go on a walking tour of the area. We had never done this before and our guide, Craig, was knowledgeable and fun to talk to. We also learned about some of the buildings we had walked by on previous visits. This time their importance during the creation of the Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution was explained to us.

Of course everywhere you go, the majestic tower of City Hall and tributes to one of the Founding Fathers of this country, Benjamin Franklin, are prominent.

There is also a lot of amazing Greek Revival architecture in Philadelphia. Plus, I’m partial to columns even though I tore down the ones in front of the Red House!

We were introduced to the Second Bank of the United States which now houses a portrait gallery.

And the site of Benjamin Franklin’s original house (now long gone) but memorialized by architect Robert Venturi as a “ghost structure” in Franklin Court.

And lots of statues.

Afterwards, when we went inside the National Constitution Center, there were even more statues! I have to assume these men, important leaders during their day, were built according to their actual height (most seemed quite short). It was fun to walk around their very lifelike forms and look at all the details that were incorporated into the sculpture. Buttons! Shoe buckles! And cravats! (Yes, that’s what ties were called back then.)

Afterwards we walked to Elfreth’s Alley, supposedly the oldest residential street in America. I was happy to see there was not a single piece of trash on this street! And the houses were nicely maintained.

I love the red shutters and matching doors on this house.

Betsy Ross And A Fifth Grade Field Trip

In 1971 after being in Munich for two years, we moved back to New York briefly. I happened to be in fifth grade on Long Island when we had a class field trip to Philadelphia. I remember very little about the trip other than visiting the Betsy Ross house. I found a couple of photographs that I took nearly half a century ago and realized that the decrepit building that was next to her house is no longer.

I also found a photograph of me in front of the house. Look at the blue “dress” coat with big brass buttons (although the sleeves do look a little short) I’m wearing. I decided to crop out of the photograph the other girls I was traveling with that day, but when I looked at the picture, I was the only student who had a camera in her hand! This photograph of me must have either be taken by a teacher or a parent who went along for the ride.

Here’s me today squinting in the sun with my hair nearly the same length! And wearing a blue (and much warmer coat) I purchased over the Christmas holiday.

After Betsy Ross, we grabbed a quick lunch (fish tacos and shrimp po’ boy’s) at Redding Terminal Market (no pictures it was too crowded) and then headed over to see the new Museum of the American Revolution. There was a lot of walking that day.

Dinner that night was at a restaurant I had been wanting to try for a while. High Street on Market is a cute little place with a small but very creative menu. Endive salad with golden beets, blue cheese, pistachios and blood oranges ? House-made agnoletti pasta with cauliflower, chili peppers and walnuts? Cherry pie? It was all pretty good and the only disappointing dish was a minuscule overpriced cheese plate which I won’t talk about.

Eastern State Penitentiary

We had never visited the famous prison and weren’t sure what to expect. They are doing extensive renovation work on the site which luckily didn’t seem to impact our visit at all. Once labeled the most famous and expensive prison in the world, what’s left is eerie and cold inside. Steve Buscemi, the actor, was the narrator on the audio tour as we walked around looking at the various cells and long hallways. We could only imagine what it was like being incarcerated back then.

Here’s a shot of the kind of conditions other inmates were living in (minus the peeling paint and debris on the floor one would hope). And here’s a cell that the museum staff decided to recreate based on newspaper accounts of one of their more famous prisoners – Al Capone.

I mean, look at these pretty luxurious accommodations. Mr. Capone even had a desk and a radio and clean sheets as well as a couple of throw rugs to cover the cement floor!

The prison was huge and I didn’t feel particularly claustrophobic when I was inside even when I looked out the windows.

However, once I went outside and walked along the very high stone walls, the feeling to “escape” (especially when I saw the watch tower) did come upon me.

What do you do after you visit a prison? You go to lunch!

We decided to stop for pizza at the nearby Pizzeria Vetri. We got off to a rocky start with the wait staff (couldn’t get anyone to even notice we were sitting at the counter for a good 10 minutes) but once I got up to make our presence known we had a lovely lunch. They make pretty decent pizzas – one we had was topped with crudo and chunks of mozzarella di bufala. The other was a pie with fennel sausage (and some fennel fronds scattered on top) which I liked. Plus we had a decent version of Caesar salad with anchovies, lots of Parmesan and a hard boiled egg.

Afterwards we could have used a nap (big lunch plus wine plus 60 degree weather) but instead walked over to the famous (or should I say infamous) “Rocky” stairs at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. We even saw a “Rocky” impersonator taking pictures with some tourists. Then we walked around the back of the building to get a view of the Fairmount Water Works complex on the Schuylkill River.

Frank Lloyd Wright

The next morning on the way out of town we stopped to see the only synagogue Frank Lloyd Wright designed. Located in Elkins Park, PA, the Beth Sholom Synagogue is very different (at least in my opinion) than any of his other work. Described as being designed in a “Mayan Revival style,” the roof rises up like a mountain with carved cement-looking stones jutting out on the sides. Unfortunately, there weren’t any tours scheduled that day so we couldn’t peek inside.

Henry Mercer and Fonthill Castle

We had originally intended to stop off in Doylestown, PA, on the way to Philadelphia but decided we didn’t have enough time so we decided to do it on the way home. I had seen pictures of Fonthill Castle and thought it looked a bit strange. Built between 1908-1912, Henry Mercer had the house built entirely out of reinforced concrete. He then filled the castle with Moravian tiles that he designed as well as other tiles and prints that he collected from around the world. There were so many rooms to look at that were literally crammed with (for lack of a better word) – stuff. There were also some amazing staircases, vaulted ceilings and a couple of built-in furniture pieces that I thought were pretty neat. I took quite a few photographs of this “house” so I’ll just share a few of them with you.

Here’s a panoramic shot of the house. Luckily we had a beautiful sunny day which really helped the gray cement structure stand out against the blue sky.

This was the “yellow” room, Henry’s first bedroom in the castle. I love the arches and the columns he made in this room. And look at this crazy ceiling in the next photograph with all those different types of tiles and ceramic pots he had collected.

Then there were the fireplaces, 17 in total I believe.

Besides his enormous display of books, my favorite room was his office. It held four desks! One for paying bills, one for writing (complete with a typewriter), one for drafting and the final one for correspondence. Guess which one this is? (Hint: drafting.)

In fairness, I found this house overwhelming, there was just too much to look at and digest. I found one small tile on the tour though that I found amusing. Was he making fun of himself? Or was it a literal statement of his love of letter writing? Who knows.

Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.

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Twelve Courses: Backhouse

We had been to Backhouse in Niagara-on-the-Lake for lunch last fall. The restaurant, set in a non-descript row of shops away from the main tourist scene, was a definite find. We enjoyed our lunch so much that October afternoon that I was determined to return for dinner, and so we did two weeks ago.

Backhouse, with Chef Ryan Crawford at the helm, focuses primarily on wood-fired cooking. This means if you have the opportunity to sit at the “kitchen bar” you will get a first-hand look at everything that is being prepared, sliced, roasted, grilled and plated. It’s basically like getting a front row seat to see your favorite rock band.

Cooking on the line that night was a young woman who answered by the name of Chef Ashley. She was very busy making pasta, checking to make sure the fire in front of us was at the right temperature and adding more chunks of wood when it wasn’t. She was also stirring soups, tasting the dishes she was preparing and plating, too! It was fun watching her focus so intently on her craft.

The Beginning

I will admit I do read TripAdvisor reviews before I visit a restaurant. I also discount the ones that many people write when they complain about portions being small, a menu being “weird” and dishes too expensive. I figure those people shouldn’t be at that restaurant in the first place. (I will confess I am both a restaurant and food snob.)

After we had decided we were going to do the chef’s tasting menu of yes, twelve courses, two gorgeous silk cutlery rolls were placed before us.

The fact that we were given numerous utensils to choose from (big and small spoons, knifes, forks and even chopsticks) made such incredible sense to me. Not only could we, as diners, choose how we wanted to eat a certain dish, but it freed up the servers from having to run back and forth to replace our silverware after every course.

While some people I have read complained about this “gimmick,” I actually thought it was brilliant. Plus I loved the Asian feel of the roll and I can’t say that I’ve ever eaten with brass-colored silverware!

First Course

We started with an amuse bouche of a single gougère stuffed with duck liver mousse. Not only was this bite a delicious savory treat but I loved the vessel it was served in. Look at the feet!

Second Course

Lynn had eaten this dish before – a creamy egg mousse concoction nestled in an eggshell and topped with gorgeous hunter green kale “pearls.” It was a melt in your mouth treat and we both wanted more of it.

See what good eaters we are?

In between courses we got to look around at the restaurant decor. There was lots of wood. And wine. And the roaring fire in front of us.

And there were knives!

Third Course

This course amused me. It was essentially a potato on a plate with some spicy crumbled sausage on the side. In concept it looked like a variation of a hasselback potato but these were cut in the shape of a mille feuille. Hence, when you cut into it, you could see the very thin layers of this perfectly cooked potato. I took two shots of this dish; the first one as it was served to us. The second one I tore apart briefly with my fork to show you the layers.

Fourth Course

Next up was bread and butter. Now normally this isn’t even considered a “course” in most restaurants since most places will bring a basket of bread to the table once you’ve sat down. But at Backhouse both the bread and the butter are homemade and of course baked in the wood oven. I think we ate ALL of the sourdough bread before I remembered to take a picture. Luckily, I managed to snap a photograph of the three butters served that evening before being devoured as well.

Fifth Course

I love soup. I especially love root vegetable purées. Tonight’s featured soup special was a squash purée that was topped with some crispy prosciutto, a few cubes of roasted squash and what looked like a sage leaf but might have been a piece of crispy kale. The fact that we watched one of the chefs slice the prosciutto on a handy Italian slicer, then crisp it in a pan to be used in the soup was mouth-watering. (I also on occasion have fried up some prosciutto for breakfast instead of bacon. I prefer the taste and try to tell myself it’s a “healthier” option.)

Look at this gorgeous slicer! It’s sharp! It’s red! There was a trend in Munich in the 1970’s where it was considered perfectly normal to have a meat slicer in your home kitchen. There you could buy large quantities of smoked meats (salami, ham, bologna) and slice them up to feed cold cuts to your family. Since Germans ate a lot of cold cuts this struck me as being both practical and economical. We never had a meat slicer but it was probably a good kitchen gadget to have if one was so inclined to eat that way.

Sixth Course

A play on words describes our next course which was a salad. In “Leaf it to Ashley,” the chef noted above who was cooking for us that evening, it contained some greens (including frisée which I love), croutons, more prosciutto and a couple of other items that are beyond my description.

I need to divert here a bit and talk about the greenhouses in this area of Ontario. Crossing over the border near Buffalo and/or Niagara Falls we see a lot of land and trees. Once however we drive closer to St. Catherine and Hamilton, we see greenhouses. Massive greenhouses. The bulk of many of the vegetables I’m buying these days seem to come from these big greenhouses. Case in point, at my local Price Chopper, a good 75% of the produce (Boston lettuce, cucumbers, radishes, green onions and tomatoes) have a “Product of Canada” sticker on them. Since we are closer to Canada now, I actually prefer buying these food items rather than an avocado that comes from California or an orange from Costa Rica.

Seventh Course

Before this course was served to us, we got to observe another chef who was rolling out dough to make what looked like handmade penne. I won’t have to tell you that pasta is one of my favorite things to eat – macaroni and cheese in particular. (And yes, I do believe it’s a cardinal sin to bake said dish in the oven and top it with breadcrumbs!)

Imagine my delight then when we were served some thick rigatoni-like noodles tossed in a kale and walnut pesto with some shards of cheese on top. While I’m not a big kale fan (I find the stuff tasteless and cardboard-like), this absolutely worked in this dish. I know kale is supposed to be healthy, but hey, a girl can’t like everything!

Eighth Course

Even though it was a prix fixe set menu, our server let me switch out the guinea hen course (aka “chicken”) and have the spring trout instead. Lynn’s chicken, I mean guinea hen, came with some lovely beets. It was perfectly roasted but truthfully my trout with more kale (!) and some grainy mustard and horseradish was better.

Ninth Course

I’m tired of seeing “pork belly” on a menu. First of all, you can swear up and down about how good eating “fat” is. It’s not. Perhaps it’s because I grew up with more than the occasional fatty piece of meat at the dinner table that I could barely choke down and inevitably would try to get rid of whatever I was chewing by doing the cough-in-the-napkin-thing. This is why to this day I always prefer to order fish rather than meat when dining out. This was the only course so far that was just okay. Don’t get me wrong I love pork and ham and anything pork-like that is pulled or barbecued. It’s just that me and pork belly, well, I just don’t get it..

Tenth Course

And then when asked what type of cheese was available, I was told they had over 25 varieties! We were brought out a selection of three firm cheeses (including an amazing cheddar) and one soft. Where’s the cheese you ask? Apparently I forgot to take a photograph BEFORE we started to dig in and all that was left were a few slices of sourdough walnut and raisin bread and the remnants of the cheese slate.

Eleventh Course

In this part of Ontario, ice wine is a big deal. Since I detest sweet wines (and any type of dessert wine for that matter), ice wine and I are never going to be a couple. The ice wine “float” that they brought to the counter reminded me of the old school lemon sorbets certain “fancy” restaurants used to bring to you between courses. This was supposed to “cleanse your palate” – or prepare it so to speak – for the next course. Luckily, this “float” wasn’t terribly sweet, and I loved the bit of fun this course brought to the bar.

Ice wine was poured into a champagne glass holding a dollop of sorbet and some carbonated water was spritzed out of a soda siphon into the glass right in front of you. It worked.

Twelfth and Final Courses!

Beet Cake and Roasted Squash Crumble

Besides switching out my entree, I was also allowed to choose a different dessert. I usually get away with this because I say something along the lines of “wow, I’ve never had (insert name of dish here) before and I would really like to try it.” This kind of menu enthusiasm has never failed me.

Let me talk about one review about the beet cake that I read on TripAdvisor. Someone absolutely hated it which is why I so desperately wanted to try it. In fairness, you have to like beets and be okay with the fact that sometimes dessert doesn’t have to be sugary, sweet or have chocolate in it. The beet cake they brought out that evening had the consistency of a pound cake but with an intense savory beet topping. Was it the best dessert I’ve ever had? No. Was it the most creative? Yes.

Lynn’s dessert was a slice of roasted squash with some crumble and a mousse-like cream. I had some of his, too.

Finally, we are not gluttons. Each of the twelve plates served was truly a small plate, think tapas. It takes a long time to get through this meal (3 hours!) but it doesn’t drag on. There’s a lot to take in visually since the chefs are working right in front of you. Plus, there’s lots and lots of good Niagara escarpment wine to drink. And to that we say Cheers!