Category: Vegetables

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Back to Maine & New Hampshire & Lake George, Too

First Stop – Fort Ticonderoga

The sound of the cannons being fired over the fort wall were loud. It was a warm sunny day and we found ourselves very happy to be back on the road again. Just under 2.5 hours from our house, the long tree-lined drive up to Fort Ticonderoga reminded me of trips we had done in the south visiting historical homes. Overlooking Lake Champlain, this 18th century fort had barracks to explore, fortified walls to climb, and most importantly, an amazing garden to “ooh and aah” over.

Our guided interpreters weren’t using real cannon balls that afternoon but dressed as British soldiers and American “provincial soldiers,” they put on a good show in pretending to defend the fort during the French and Indian War. We also learned about shoemaking and tailoring in the 1760’s and as much as we tried to get our “soldiers” to fall out of character by suggesting they order their britches from Amazon rather than sewing them by hand, they didn’t take the bait.

After holding our hands over our ears after the cannon firing, we headed towards the greenery. Called the “King’s Garden,” there is a bountiful vegetable garden (much of which was used I was told to create salads in the fort’s cafe) as well as an astonishing array of colorful flower beds and herbs. The fort was nice but truthfully, I could have sat in the garden all day.

Look at the lettuce, the over-sized sunflower, and the orange and yellow marigolds!

Here are some details from the garden door entrances and a lovely fountain in a reflecting pool.

After we left the garden, we had one last thing to visit before we left the area – Mount Defiance. A short 10-minute drive from the fort, a token we were given when buying the tickets had to be inserted into what looked like a parking meter. The people in front of us were having a bit of a problem with this task. It turned out that the distance between the meter and the driver’s side of the vehicle was too far. This meant that someone had to get out of the car, insert the token, then quickly jump back in the car so you didn’t run the risk of having the barrier gate hit your windshield. Sigh. Was this the best (only?) idea someone could come up with to give visitor’s access to the road that led up to the Mount? Once we dealt with this annoyance, the view at the summit of Lake Champlain and the fort in the distance was pretty amazing. We stayed a bit longer than planned to hear our costumed interpreter talk about everything that was wrong with the fort. First of all, the walls surrounding the fort weren’t high enough to ward off invaders, and secondly, it was facing the wrong way. Today, however, when you look at the picture I took, it kind of looks like a halfway decent condo complex.

Lake George Revisited

After visiting the fort, we drove south to Lake George. Although we had driven through Lake George a few times coming back from someplace else (probably Canada), we hadn’t stayed in the area in 20+ years. Eschewing the more touristy Lake George main area, we settled on a family-run resort in Diamond Point.

The Juliana Resort was a quirky motel with ranch style accommodations. Before booking, the reservation site was very specific about your room amenities and views. Therefore, given the option of having a “parking lot view” or at least a glimpse of the lake, I chose the latter.

Well, it wasn’t the sprawling view of the lake I thought it would be and the “beach” aspect of the resort was probably the tiniest piece of sand I had ever seen, but there was a dock, and the mountains were pretty. Also, the room was clean, and the grounds were well-kempt with lots of grills and outdoor tables and even a wooden “Adirondack-style” swing that we did indeed swing in.

Dinner Options

If you remember my story from two years ago about our dearth of food options (and only a single food shot – BBQ in Richmond, VA), I was determined that was absolutely not going to happen on this trip. I planned hotel stays based around restaurants I wanted to dine in. In the Lake George area, I knew this would be a challenge since “red-sauce” and “wing-type” places outnumber any true culinary finds. Well, you probably know where this is going, right? The restaurant we ate in (which I will not name) on the first night of our road trip looked okay on their website. Right on the lake and only a short six-minute drive from the motel, it boasted not one but three outdoor decks, a no-reservation policy, and what they described as “stunning views.”

When we arrived for dinner, I didn’t see any food on anyone’s table. What I did see were half-eaten plates of nachos, bread baskets that appeared to have been untouched, and lots and lots of empty wine glasses. It’s not like we had the option of going anywhere else, right?

We ordered clam chowder (first mistake) that was mostly cream and potatoes. Lynn opted for a pork roast special that I have to assume no one else in the entire restaurant had ordered because they gave him what seemed like a family-sized portion. I had been craving a steak since the beginning of the summer and decided to order a tenderloin. The steak that came out was so overcooked it could only be described as “gray.” Even though it was actually fairly soft, it was tasteless. Hence, even more sighing on my part.

When I asked our server to take a picture of us that evening, briefly explaining to her that we hadn’t traveled in two years, nor had we been back to Lake George in over 20, she said, “Wow!”

I continued to tell her that I realized after working on a photo project this past summer that I had only found 72 photographs of us as a couple. When I showed her a photograph that was taken shortly after we first met, she said something very odd.

“You’re so small!”

I think she meant to say “young” but somehow “small” became her word of choice. Since Lynn is 5 foot 10 and I’m not much shorter (5 foot 8), I don’t think “small” is the way to describe us. But since we both have a sense of humor, we now like to ask each other in the morning, “How are you feeling?” Obviously, the answer is “I’m feeling small!”

In case anyone is curious. Do we look “small” in either of these photographs?

In the morning, I made the mistake of telling Lynn we would be having breakfast at a “flapjack-type of place” on the drive out of town. He seemed to misinterpret this as a breakfast spot that only serves pancakes. Consequently, I had to show him the menu since he’s really an egg-and-toast kind of guy. We actually had decent ham and cheddar omelets for breakfast and yes, I ordered a side of silver-dollar pancakes. Not only were they yummy, but I was happy they didn’t upcharge me for some real maple syrup to pour on top.

Destination: Lake Winnipesaukee

At some point during the pandemic, I had been getting emails from the Wolfeboro Inn in Wolfeboro, NH, on the above-mentioned lake. We hadn’t been to that part of New Hampshire, and it seemed like it might be scenic and fun. Luckily, there were also a couple of decent restaurants in town, so I thought why not? The hotel had seen better days, but it was also one of the few reasonably priced places to stay in Wolfeboro. Our room on the second floor looked out onto the central air conditioning unit of a lower building, and from what I could tell walking around the grounds, none of the rooms had a lake view. Luckily, dinner that night (not at the hotel) gave me faith that going forward quite a few good meals might be attainable.

Pavillon is a relatively new restaurant in Wolfeboro connected to a luxury boutique hotel. Focused primarily on small plates, we started with corn chowder and homemade parker house rolls. (I never order bread but couldn’t resist trying these.) Spätzle with roasted carrots and peas (shown below) was up next followed by a beet salad with watermelon, jalapeños and pepitas, and a scallop dish with pancetta, pea shoots, pea puree, and slices of peach that I really wanted to like. However, the peaches were tasteless and with a staggering price of over $40, I didn’t expect it to be oversalted. Nevertheless, we ended up getting dessert (a coffee crème brûlée) because I just happened to flip over the “after dinner” drink menu at the end of the evening. Having lived in Munich for nearly a decade, I was astonished to find a German brandy, Asbach Uralt, on the menu. Pours of this “Weinbrand” for a mere $10? I couldn’t resist ordering a glass.

A Gorgeous Day Visiting “Castle in the Clouds”

Wel, it wasn’t really a castle, but it was a very lovely historic house called the Lucknow Estate that was built in 1914 by Thomas and Olive Plant high up on a mountain overlooking Lake Winnipesaukee. Much of the house was inspired by the arts and crafts movement and the house had a couple of interesting pieces of furniture, as well as state-of-the-art appliances for the time. Castle in the Clouds had not been on my “bucket list” but I like to look at maps and find things for us to do rather than just hiking or day-drinking. Plus, I love touring old houses, so this ended up being a worthwhile visit.

There were gorgeous reading nooks, fireplaces, and decorative window trimmings to behold. There was an enormous laundry room with a sink I would like to have and a pipe organ that someone on our tour decided to play. There were skylights and let’s not forget the views! You could look outside a window and see the lake, and since we were truly “in the clouds” on this blue-sky day, the view was stunning. Dare I mention a “needle shower ” in the owner’s bathroom? Apparently, women were “discouraged” from bathing during this time period, but I think being pelted with all the water emanating from those shower heads might have been fun.

Onto Holderness and Squam Lake

After our tour of the house (as well as the basement which we paid extra for just to get an idea of the inner-workings of this luxury estate), we went in search of lunch. A lobster roll to be precise. We hadn’t originally intended to end up near Squam Lake, but I was intrigued by the reviews of Walter’s Basin Restaurant and the outdoor deck.

Here’s our lobster roll! With outstanding onion rings (not greasy!). And yes, when our server asked how it was, I told her it was one of the top FIVE lobster rolls of all time. She actually blushed! We ate our lobster rolls and watched a couple of boats come in and out of the neighboring marina.

Weir’s Beach, Then Dinner

Driving through Meredith (not much to see except a strange waterfall in the middle of town), we headed over to Weir’s Beach. Much of the town (similar to Lake George) had already shut down for the season. Walking through the town, it reminded me a bit of the old Asbury Park without the boardwalk, but a decent promenade with a view of the lake. I detoured a bit just to take a shot of the Weir’s Beach sign. Campy but cool! (I realized they don’t use an ” ‘s ” on their sign so maybe my spelling is incorrect.)

We headed back to Wolfeboro and walked around town a bit only to discover that most of the shops were already closed. We had made a reservation for dinner that night at Wolfetrap, a seafood place near the hotel. When we arrived for dinner at 6:30 (the last reservation we could get since the restaurant closes at 8 p.m.), we were greeted by a grumpy hostess who practically yelled, “Do you even have a reservation?” We assured her we did and waited a few minutes to sit at a large and somewhat uncomfortable wooden table outside on the deck. We had oysters which were described as “local,” but were actually from Prince Edward Island. (Not that local!) Lynn, for reasons known only to Lynn, ordered swordfish tacos that had a few pieces of fish thrown into a soft flour taco. Luckily, I fared better with a decent swordfish steak. The fact that we were back at the hotel by 8:16 pm., with not much to do for the rest of the evening, was uneventful.

Frank Lloyd Wright In Manchester

The Zimmerman house in Manchester, New Hampshire, had been on my radar for a while. Described on the Currier Museum website as “the only art museum in the world with two Frank Lloyd Wright homes,” tour times and tickets are limited with access to the homes only via the museum’s van. I had read about the Isadore and Lucille Zimmerman house (1950) but was surprised to also have a tour (three houses down) of the recently acquired Kalil house. So when we ended up on the van with a bunch of FLW “groupies,” each offering detailed descriptions of other houses they had seen (mostly in Wisconsin), I felt right at home.

Zimmerman was a doctor who lived in Manchester but decided to “downsize” to a ranch. Luckily, he and his wife were fond of Wright’s aesthetic and the world of Usonian architecture. This house was smaller than other Wright houses we had seen, but the signature Wright details were still there – custom-designed furniture, a galley kitchen, and small glass windows. I was also intrigued by the new-fangled appliances of the 1950’s which included a top-loading dishwasher. Since there was no basement in the house, even the furnace was stuck in a corner of what Wright described as a “workspace” rather than a kitchen.

There was also an open living room with one wall assuming the role of “long couch” and a very unique music stand. I think the Zimmerman’s must have had many lovely musical evenings in this room. Wright even designed a unique mailbox for this house which is still there today.

Mildred and Toufic Kalil House

Built in 1955, the house is one of only seven “Usonian” houses Wright designed. I wanted to like this house and appreciated FLW’s built-in furniture, but the house both inside and outside was constructed with concrete blocks. Although we were encouraged by our tour guides to sit down in the living room, the space reminded me too much of drab concrete buildings that sprang up all over post-war Europe. Here’s a few photographs to give you an idea.

Louis Kahn in Exeter and Following the Remnants of Hurricane Lee in Rockport

Apparently, we had once driven by the Louis Kahn library on the campus of Phillips Exter Academy, but I didn’t remember it! This time, with the help of a student, we managed to get inside the building. The Librarian on duty was not particularly amused by our being inside when students were “on campus.” She then proceeded to scold us and said we needed to make an appointment to visit the library. Suddenly, we were told to leave the building, and when I asked to take some photographs, she said “only one.” I decided to ignore her and quickly took over a dozen shots, but I couldn’t get the photograph I wanted. Why? Because there was an art exhibition in the space and someone had placed what looked like a big ball of chewing gum right in the middle of the famous ceiling.

We had time to kill before lunch, so we decided to drive up to Rockport and look at the water. Hurricane Lee had passed through 24 hours prior, so we were hoping to see some big waves. We got them! Along with a photograph of the “most painted building in the world” also known as Motif No. 1. I remembered we had a magnet on our fridge of this red fishing shack, purchased I believe when the town of Rockport was still “dry” (no alcohol sold or served in restaurants!) I’m glad to report this was abolished a few years ago but the fact that it was a law for over 162 years is mind-boggling.

Salem, Again

We had visited Salem two years ago and thought it was well, interesting. This time around it was very crowded, parking was limited, and we seemed to be surrounded by groups of young women dressed in black and wearing pointy witch hats. We went back to have lunch at a place right on the water where dinner had been decent. This time around our lunch was just okay. We walked around town, avoiding most of the touristy “witch-hunt” sites, and went to see the Peabody Essex Museum.

I liked this museum. Lynn thought the floor plan was difficult to read, but we saw a couple of interesting exhibits. It seems I’m always drawn to the gardens wherever I go, and the Peabody Essex provided a lovely outdoor space with an interesting fountain.

Over the years, we’ve stopped staying at Inns, preferring the anonymity of a larger hotel chain. However, all the hotel rooms in Salem were sold out that weekend and only because of a cancelled reservation a few minutes before I tried to book a room online did I find us a room. We didn’t really have to visit Salem again, but I had wanted to try a fairly new restaurant, Settler, that I had been reading about. Thus, we ended up at the Salem Inn, in a decent-sized room in one of their old houses. Breakfast was included in the room rate, but not only did you have to make a reservation for this meal, but also choose what you wanted to eat when you checked in! I found this tremendously annoying but did as requested. (9:30 a.m. – cheese and mushroom omelets, wheat toast, fruit, coffee.)

Dinner at Settler turned out to be the best meal of the trip. The only disappointment was a Martini that was lack-luster, and the excessive mark-up on the wine list. We ate our way through some lovely meze: tuna crudo with thinly sliced radishes; homemade falafel; a cozy dish of lamb merguez which is usually a sausage, but this was transformed into a meatball; house-made spaghetti with spicy clams; and a perfectly cooked halibut. Finally, we finished off the meal with not one but two desserts – a burnt Basque cheesecake with vanilla gelato and a chocolate tart with pistachio gelato. Was it delicious? Absolutely.

Kennebunkport, Maine, and the Atlantic Ocean

Remember we lived on Long Island for over 30 years so stopping to eat some clams and seeing the Atlantic Ocean shouldn’t have been a big deal. Maybe it was just the unusually warm September day. Or the fact that we were looking forward to seeing the beach again. Whatever it was, we stopped for lunch at Bob’s Clam Hut. There we both had a basket of fried clams but truthfully, we could have split one. It was good, but there was just too much food.

After lunch we drove to Kennebunkport. We had driven through the area two years ago on the way to Camden and I remember seeing people shuffling through town because it was so crowded. Luckily, this time the sidewalks were less busy, and when we checked into our motel, the Seaside Inn, we even managed to get upgraded to an oceanfront room.

We walked on the beach and afterwards just sat on our hotel balcony watching a few boats go by and a “ship-ahoy” themed weathervane spin on the top of a cupola. Actually, now that I look at the exterior shot of the Seaside Inn, it reminded me a bit of a place we used to stay at on Hilton Head Island!

I will only briefly mention dinner that night and our reason for being there in the first place. We had a nearly five-year-old gift certificate to the White Barn Inn that we were determined to use. We were the youngest couple at the restaurant and while the menu looked inspiring, the food that came out (regardless of what we ordered) had too much salt or cream or crunchy things. We opted for a cheese plate for dessert and were brought out a dish that looked like something a toddler might have cobbled together after standing on a stool to reach the fridge. To assure my readers that I’m not exaggerating, here it is:

Time to Go Home

Inevitably, it’s time to go home. Even when we were both working, we would try to delay the drive back by seeing one more sight and even having one more lunch. This time we decided to avoid I-95 for a while and travel down Route 1 through the towns of Wells, Oqunquit, and York. Along the way we found a roadside bakery and picked up some croissants. Then we found a road sign pointing us to Nubble Lighthouse. Who doesn’t like to see a lighthouse? Apparently, a lot of other people had the same idea that cloudy, gray day. After a mere 10-minute detour, we were awarded with a picturesque shot of this beauty. You actually can’t get to the lighthouse (it’s on a tiny island), but you do get a lovely view from the parking lot.

We drove home in the rain (and yes, stopped for one last lobster roll), hit annoying traffic until we got to Albany, and already started planning our next road trip.

Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.

If you missed my new collection of short stories, The Camp People, it’s available on Amazon.

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Chasing Deer and Surgeons

I didn’t want the dream to end. I was in Europe staring at pastries behind a glass window. However, each pastry, unlike the scrumptious eclairs shown below, was placed apart from each other (a good six inches I would guess) with a number in front of it.

I gathered one had to order the desired pastry by number only and then sit down in chairs that were lined up as if one were in the waiting room of a doctor’s office rather than a beautiful cafe. Was this a pandemic-related dream? The six inches (or six feet in real life) seemed plausible. And sitting in a doctor’s office (or at least wanting to) nibbling a sweet treat seemed to be entirely credible given the last eight weeks.

Lynn had hernia surgery in the beginning of May. It was supposed to be a routine outpatient procedure with little post-op complications. Except no one could be there with him. He would have to be dropped off at the hospital and I would have to wait for a phone call from the surgeon. What’s this have to do with deer you ask? (Note the title of this essay.) Nothing, except that up until this weekend, they were always pretty well behaved on our property.

Lynn had delayed having the surgery because he wasn’t in any pain. Plus, once we had started the ball rolling on this semi-elective “event,” we were told the procedure had to be postponed until a surgeon was available and everyone was vaccinated! We were okay with that. After all we have known each other a very long time (42 years actually) and agree on the important stuff. Besides, we love just being by ourselves. We also love cooking and growing our own food. We did hope, however, that the hernia (derived from the Latin word “rupture”) wouldn’t do just that before the operation was scheduled.  

He was not good with anesthesia, albeit the last surgery he had was 28 years ago.  He had been running through Penn Station trying to catch a Long Island Railroad train to get home to me. But he slipped, missed a step on the stairs to the platform, and fractured his ankle.  Did he miss me that much to justify sprinting for the train?  Perhaps.  But in actuality, I was on bed rest for a pregnancy that could go bad at any given moment. He wanted to get home as soon as he could for both of us; everyone was on edge.

So, he, going into this new surgery, which had been delayed because of COVID, made us uneasy.  Could I tell him I was more scared than nervous?

He wouldn’t wear a coat on the day of the procedure. “More stuff to carry,” he said.  “Wear casual clothes” they told him.  After being home since March 2020 what else was there to wear except sweatpants and a t-shirt?   

“At least take a phone charger,” I said to him.

“No,” he countered.

I dropped him off at the hospital early (6:45 AM) but as mentioned, couldn’t go inside.  He went in on his own and it reminded me of the first day we sent our son to preschool many years ago. Neither of them ever looked back at me or even waved.  

I drove home and stared out our kitchen window.  We have a lot of property and woods so I waited for our “resident” deer to come down the hill to give me a sign that everything would be okay.  But they just walked right up to their usual spot – eating the grass and a dandelion or two for good measure. Thinking back on them now, I’m quite happy with their restraint.

They say most couples don’t talk about sex, death and money.  Pretty funny since we talk about all three of those “taboo” topics frequently – sex and money more than death. Should death be at the top of my list to think about today, though?

I tried to read but since we had been up most of the night worrying about the outcome, my eyes refused to focus.  I walked the rooms in our very large house and felt the quiet.  Was I prepared for him not to return?  I wasn’t.  But knew instantly how it would feel if he didn’t come home. I summoned up an old metaphor thinking that the “silence was deafening.”  I wanted to shout, “Yes, it is!”

I busied myself, texting our children, not revealing my fear.  And then the doctor called. “He did okay,” he said.  “Sorry there was a delay.” Turns out, this surgeon had not one but a few emergencies to deal with that Monday morning.  I compared it to waiting on the tarmac at JFK.  One is anxious for the flight to be airborne, for the trip or vacation to commence. Or, in this case, for the operation to be successfully completed and most importantly, for the patient to have a “smooth landing.”

I’m not religious and I don’t pray but I did look at the “bamboo” on our property which a local chef told me was actually Japanese knotweed. Their sturdy brown and green stalks were pushing through the soil up towards the sky. The chef told me that “their tender shoots are edible.”  Suddenly, I, too, felt I was living up to a particular word that the New York Times had written about in describing certain feelings one has encountered in the past year. The word is “languishing,” which made me think; instead of my current state of inactivity, perhaps I should be outside chopping up some stalks and then brewing them into some sort of medicinal beverage to help him recover?

Finally, 12 hours later, I drove back to the hospital to pick him up.  He was wheeled out in a wheelchair and looked even grayer than the t-shirt he was wearing.  I helped him into the car and reached over to fasten his seat belt. I realized it was exactly the same way I used to buckle in our children when they were young. 

“My phone is almost dead,” he said.

I didn’t want to say, “I told you so,” followed by “why didn’t you take the charger?”

Since then, he has been recovering slowly. No pain, but swelling was the primary culprit. He, who has always been the “lifter” of things in our relationship – whether it be bags of topsoil for our never ending gardening adventures or more and more lumber and moulding for house repairs – suddenly stopped lifting.

I would “grow” muscles I thought! I’d wheel out trash cans, carry out recycling bins, lawn furniture and even table saws! (Yes, we do in fact, have multiple saws.) Luckily, the deer decided not to invade our garden until he had healed sufficiently enough to help me try and remedy the problem.

If you recall my last post, I wrote fondly of the new fence we were planning to install because our old one was not only falling apart, but it was rusting and ugly. What we didn’t take into account when putting up our nicer, albeit shorter fence, was that deer can jump quite high to feast on whatever they think is tasty in your average vegetable garden.

We have lived in the Red House for 11 years and this is the first time we had deer be so bold. Around 8:45 on Friday night, we were alerted by a neighbor that a deer was in our garden. It was too dark by then to see what was consumed but in the morning we assessed the damage. Most of the tomato plants were gone, broccoli and Swiss chard, too. A rose bush that our daughter gave us a few years ago (and had a plethora of red roses blooming) was eaten down to the bottom. Ditto for the daylilies and the Stella d’Oro’s.

The lettuce was left mostly intact as were our peas and beans and anything that was squash-related. To say we were furious is an understatement. We decided we had to make our “pretty” fence ugly again by making it higher.

This is the fence that the deer could easily jump over.

And here’s the deer walking around the back of our driveway “pretending” she doesn’t see all the goodness growing inside the garden gate!

But first I went back to the farm down the road in hopes that there would be some vegetables to purchase. I was in luck when not only were there vegetables left but now everything was half price! So for $24, I managed to get new tomato plants, more broccoli, lettuce and Swiss chard. And I bought some Hungarian wax peppers to plant, too. And since I was not particularly confident we would pull off recreating the wheel (I mean fence), I bought some tomato plants that just needed to be replanted into bigger containers that I could grow on the deck.

When I got home, we hauled out the old fence we had unceremoniously rolled up, tying the rolls closed with duct tape. We thought maybe we could just unroll all the old stuff and attach it to the new fence. Our goal was to achieve some height. I mean, really, how high can a deer jump? According to at least four videos we watched, apparently six feet is the magic number. So, we had to make sure the “new” but soon-to-be-ugly fence was higher than that.

And then there was soap. In the past, we, too, had wasted money on bottles of deer “repellent,” dried blood in various forms, and other useless products we were sucked into buying.

Anything that has a powerful “scent” we were told would also aid in keeping them away. So after the greenhouse, I stopped at the supermarket and bought three bars of Irish Spring. Lynn cut them into thirds, drilled a hole in them, and hung them around the “key” areas of the garden.

At this point, for the first time ever, I really started to rethink the garden. After all, we support many local farmers in the area and there are numerous Amish farms within a five minute drive of our house. Couldn’t we just buy ALL our produce from them this summer? There is, however, a certain satisfaction to growing your own food and making something that’s edible and healthy. Plus, what would I write about and photograph if I didn’t have that one perfect tomato or zucchini or celery to brag about?

This, unfortunately, is how we had to add height. Attaching the old fence to the top of the new fence with some wire.

And then we realized we didn’t have enough “old” fence to finish the project. Why that is I don’t know since the dimensions of the new fence and the old fence were basically the same. Which is why at 5 p.m. we got in the car and made the trip to the big box store to look at our fencing options. This item, like lumber, had gone up in price as well. $72 later we headed home with a roll of fencing and finished the job nearly eight hours after we had started it.

My arms were scratched (and bleeding) from constantly hitting a thorny raspberry bush that I kept bumping into as we tried to unwrap the new fence. Why the deer don’t eat these berries is a mystery but they don’t. One of my legs was also dripping with blood since the sharp end of the fence roll kept hitting my leg as Lynn kept trying to measure (and cut) each section we needed. Besides all this, we were also hot, tired and sunburned.

When we were done that evening and I went back into the kitchen, I remembered when he finally came home from surgery that day. He hadn’t eaten in over 24 hours and was hungry! I had planned ahead. There was bread from the bakery, chicken cutlets, salad, even a Guinness-spiked pot roast! He wanted something “simple” so I quickly made him our “jet lag” dish – a ham and cheese omelet with fresh chives from our garden.

“Drink some water,” I implored him as I, myself, sipped a glass of wine, sorry he couldn’t join me.

I started to clean up the kitchen and begged him to sit down but he just wanted to stand and watch me. Apparently, when he was coming out of the anesthesia, he thought the attending female nurse was me and started to stroke her hair. I laughed and was humbled by that innocent, affectionate gesture. And then right before we turned the kitchen lights off, he looked at the stove and said, “you put the burners on the wrong way.”

And that’s why as long as I’m living in the Red House, I will never give up my garden. Even if everything I’m eating tastes a little bit like Irish Spring.

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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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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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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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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!

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Campobello Island – But First A Stop In Saint Andrews, New Brunswick

Visiting Campobello Island to see Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt’s summer “cottage” (it has 34 rooms!) had been on my do-list for a while. I love visiting old houses and am fascinated by stories of how people lived during the 1930’s and 1940’s. This probably has something to do with growing up in Munich and being constantly surrounded by reminders of World War II. But first we needed a place to stay.

So, after we had visited PEI, we drove to Saint Andrews (also referred to as Saint Andrews By-The-Sea) which is a very romantic sounding name for this town in an area called the Maritime Provinces of Canada.

We were to stay one night at Rossmount Inn, a hotel I had read about that had travelers raving about the on-site restaurant. But first we decided to pay a visit to Kingsbrae Gardens. If you are interested in garden design and flowers and plants like I am, this is a must-see stop. Set on over 25+ acres in a residential area of Saint Andrews, they not only have lovely flower gardens but an interesting sculpture garden and miniature exotic pet farm, too.

To give you an idea of how much they love gardens (and gardening!) this was the first thing I saw walking onto their beautiful estate.

We walked around the gardens admiring all the flowers and the neatly trimmed hedges.

Plus they even made rows and rows of daylilies and assorted other wildflowers look civilized.

And then we saw the peacock! I mean, I had seen a peacock spread its feathers before but this bird decided it was going to give us a little fashion show. Look how it spread its feathers and strutted a bit so we could see both the front and back of this gorgeous bird – a member of the pheasant family I believe.

I actually thought the back of this beautiful beast was even more interesting than the front.

After more sculpture (see the food theme prevalent here with an apple core and an avocado), we went to the hotel.

A Night at the Rossmount

Chef Chris Aerni and his lovely wife Graziella are probably one of the nicest couples we’ve encountered on our many travels here and abroad. They are totally hands on with this lovely retreat they have created and love to talk to their guests not only about food but places they, too, have visited. (I’m now very curious about Hobart, Tasmania, because of my conversation with them that night.)

This is a shot of their hotel and the lovely pool area. Unfortunately, it was too late in the day for us to hang out by the pool, but this hotel is definitely on my “return for a visit list” so we’ll have to check it out the next time we go.

Dinner that night was exceptional. A multi-course tasting menu featured fresh Malpeque oysters (I will talk more about these beauties in an upcoming Prince Edward Island story) paired with a scallop ceviche.

Mushroom soup and bib lettuce and beets from the garden topped with edible daylilies (who knew you could eat those).

Followed by a roasted quail and potato salad. And then old school surf and turf kicked up a notch with succulent butter-poached lobster with garden fresh veggies and a killer Bearnaise sauce. The dollops of green pesto that were added to this dish just brought the whole thing together. It was tasty and absolutely brilliant!

And then there was dessert. Pea semi-freddo? You betcha. And it was delicious – sweet and savory all in the same bite. But then since it was my birthday (really, the actual day not the day before or after), I asked if they could bring me out something chocolate. And that’s exactly what they did. (I know it was so unlike me to order a second dessert, but I split the chocolate mousse with Lynn.)

On To Campobello Island

We started off the morning (after a lovely breakfast at the Rossmount) by listening to “Siri” tell us how we should “drive” to Campobello Island. Usually I at least take a glimpse at an old road map to make sure she’s heading us in the correct direction, but this time I didn’t. That’s why about an hour later we ended up somewhere along the coast near Passamaquoddy Bay (yes, that is exactly how you spell it). We were in the town of L’Etete and saw signs for a ferry that we thought was going to Campobello. Since there was no reason not to trust “Siri,” we drove the car onto the ferry. Who knew the ferry was free, too? (Thank you Canada!)

When the ferry docked, we realized we were on another island, “Deer Island” to be precise. There’s got to be a bridge, I thought that would get us over to Campobello, right? There is a bridge, but not where we were! We also discovered that we needed to take another ferry and had just missed the one that would eventually take us over to Campobello. See there it is pulling away!

So we joined a growing line of cars and waited for the next boat. Since we were basically stuck on Deer Island, it’s not like we could turn around and go back. Nearly an hour and a half later (not the hour intervals as shown below), we drove the car onto ferry #2 and finally ended up where we wanted to be. And this time we had to pay about $27.00 for the crossing.

The Roosevelts

Once we finally got to Campobello we managed to finagle our way onto a tour of the house that had just started. I was impressed with the home and simple furnishings and the great lengths the Roosevelts took to spend summers there! (If it took us that long to get there from our morning start which was a mere 117 kilometers away, imagine what it was like for them to get to their summer home from New York or even Washington in the 1920’s via train and automobile!)

And since I love to cook and eat (as you all know), I particularly focused in on the kitchen. The stove Eleanor’s staff would cook meals on was still in the house. This is a thing of beauty. And looking at it, it actually has more burners and “counter space” than my current stove.

I also loved the bullhorn that was out on display. Apparently, Eleanor used it to call the children in for meals when they were out and about.

And with a view like this from the house, who wouldn’t want to be outdoors every single second of the day?

Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.

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A Trip To Maine and New Brunswick, Canada (And Random Thoughts About Breakfast, Too)

It was nearly 29 years ago when we first traveled from Long Island to Maine and New Brunswick with our then 1-year-old son strapped in a car seat in the smallest car I think Chevrolet ever made (the Sprint). It was actually so small (I’m pretty tall and Lynn is too) that we even nicknamed the Sprint “Sprint Junior” just to make fun of its tiny size.

This time we started out from upstate New York (already saving us probably at least 3 hours) avoiding that awful stretch of I-95 going through Connecticut. Our first stop was in Essex, MA, for amazing lobster rolls at an old school joint called Essex Seafood. I mean look at this handwritten menu tacked onto the wall!

The lobster was sweet, minimally dressed and the side order of onion rings were pretty decent, too. I’d also like to personally thank many of my Instagram foodies who shared that find with me!

Overnight in Portland, Maine

We hadn’t been to Portland in at least 20 years and frankly, we didn’t remember a single thing. We walked around near the harbor area but weren’t that impressed.

There were a couple of restaurants and bars and the usual coffee places but there seemed to be an overwhelming number of tourist places all selling the same trinkets. Actually anything that had a lobster on it seemed to be a guaranteed sale. Lobster key rings? Check. Lobster potholders? Double check.

Dinner that night was at Fore Street – a restaurant that didn’t disappoint in its open kitchen concept as well as the incredible wood-burning smell of everything they were cooking.

The menu was very creative. Squid with eggplant and green beans followed by grilled foie gras on a slice of homemade zucchini bread! Who does that?

Second course up: Fresh blue fin tuna with peppers and grilled corn. A tasty dish but a small portion I thought for the price tag. (Yes, look at it, it was about 2 .5 bites!)

Finally, Lynn and I split a fresh berry cobbler topped with a biscuit-like dough (not my favorite but more on biscuits later) and a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Doesn’t that look absolutely delicious though?

On the way out, stopping to say “thanks” to the chefs working the line in the open kitchen, I was told by a not-so-friendly wait staffer that I was “not allowed” to be there or to talk to them! What? Cooking is a thankless job but I made sure the chefs working that night heard me compliment them on their exceptional talent. And at least I got a smile out of a few of them.

Before we left Portland the next morning, we stopped to see the lighthouse. Apparently, we had missed it the first time and the weather was absolutely perfect to get a great photograph!

On To Saint John, New Brunswick

We stopped for lunch outside of Bangor, Maine, and started with a seafood “chowdah” brimming with haddock, clams, shrimp and lobster. I moved on to eat a lobster BLT with avocado and Lynn held out for a traditional lobster roll. It was pretty darn good.

We had never been to Saint John and stayed at a hotel on the rather ugly waterfront. (This apparently is turning out to be a theme on this road trip.) Here, however, at least someone had attempted to create some “artwork” along the way. I particularly liked the random fish sculptures that were scattered around the downtown area.

We walked into a park, King’s Square, and found what appeared to be a Victorian-era band stand. Although when I looked at it, it kind of reminded me of a squat version of the Chinese Tower (Chinesischer Turm) in Munich’s Englischer Garten.

I have to segue just a bit. I really wanted to find a picture of Munich’s Chinese Tower and post it here but I realized that all the pictures I probably took of it were WAY BEFORE THE CLOUD! What? And yeah, I could drag out an old CD, pop it into my laptop and then spend hours looking for that one photograph. Or, I could just walk downstairs and find the one photo album I needed and just take a picture of the darn thing.

So here it is: My own photograph of the Chinesischer Turm in Munich, Germany, shot in the winter of 1979. Pretty cool right? And if you just look at the top two “towers,” you may see the same resemblance I did. And yeah, it took me a mere 3 minutes to walk down the stairs, find the photo album, flip open the page, shoot the picture, walk back upstairs and upload the shot.

Dinner At East Coast Bistro

When I tell you we had some of the best mussels EVER for dinner that night at East Coast Bistro, I’m not exaggerating. First of all, these mussels were from the Bay of Fundy which is the closest body of water to the town of Saint John and hence the restaurant. Spiced up with an intensely flavored coconut hot sauce with leeks on top, I’m still tasting (and dreaming) about this dish today. Second course I had was a fresh halibut with asparagus, pickled onions and arugula on top.

Yummy! Finally, since I had mentioned it was my birthday week – look what they brought out for me! Lovely homemade vanilla ice cream with a lemon tart topped with meringue. Also, I got to meet Chef Kim Steele and crew which was a nice treat.

Breakfast? What Breakfast?

One of my pet peeves of traveling these days is not being able to find a decent breakfast in the morning without A) driving out of our way and B) paying way too much money. I’m also not a fan of hotel buffets (unless it’s a really decent hotel). Or standing in line to scoop lukewarm scrambled eggs out of a chafing dish and then stand in another line to toast store-bought muffins.

I also like my breakfasts to be pretty simple. Eggs are a must but I don’t particularly like sausage for breakfast. But I’m okay with bacon but only one slice! And yes, I, too, fell for the avocado on toast thing. But then I stopped eating bread at breakfast for a while and I wasn’t crazy about just eating a “naked” avocado.

Hash browns or any kind of potato actually are also a definite no-no. You’re probably thinking, wow, it seems she doesn’t even like breakfast at all! But I do, I do, it just needs to be really simple and preferably served with a little bit of fresh fruit. (But only certain fruit.) Okay, I know I’m more than a little particular about my breakfasts.

I also won’t go into how I would prefer a croissant over a biscuit any day because my Dad, Larry, is one of my best blog readers and after he reads this he will probably be sending me hourly recipes for biscuits! (Love you Dad!) If you haven’t checked out any of his books, he is a funny writer and his books make great gifts, too. Side note: he LOVES biscuits and pie!

I also won’t go into my love/hate relationship with bagels. Well, okay, if you insist. I only like plain ones (and prefer mini bagels over full-sized ones) and also only buy bagels from certain stores. Recently Lynn and I decided pizza for breakfast would be a good idea but then wimped out at the last minute and got Italian pastries and cappuccino’s instead. (This photograph was from a recent trip to Montreal.)

Consequently, the next morning in our search for a bite to eat – a coffee, a donut, a bagel, a something, we walked around downtown Saint John and came up with zilch. We ended up back at the hotel, walked into the dining room and looked at a room filled with people who were drinking coffee. My breakfast “radar” went up. I realized no one had a plate in front of them which meant they had been waiting for their breakfasts a really, really long time.

I decided to be brave, ordered a simple omelette with toast and coffee and then we proceeded to wait. We got lucky. Apparently, the chefs working the line that morning cook everything at once since everyone’s food came out at the same time. So even though we were the last ones in that morning, our food came out as well. Timing is everything.

Since I didn’t take a picture of the omelette or my lousy coffee, I will leave you with some photos of some truly great breakfasts! (Regardless of my rantings above, I really do love breakfast!)

The best omelette you will ever eat. Courtesy of Les Deux Magots in Paris.

The best scones you will ever eat. Courtesy of The Langham Hotel in London. (Note: we did NOT stay there because it was outrageously expensive but went once for Easter brunch.)

The best farmer’s market to enjoy some pastries (and breakfast). Courtesy of the Byward Market in Ottawa.

I mean, even riding the Eurostar between London and Paris we had a decent croissant!

Finally, my new commuting life allows me not only to photograph my sucky”breakfast” at my desk but also share it with my husband, Lynn and my readers. If you’re wondering what it is – here’s more than a clue: Pepperidge Farm white bread, a slice of Munster cheese (or if I’m feeling really adventurous Havarti), a smear of butter laced with olive oil and either green or red grapes. Followed by weak office coffee. Awesome, right?

Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.

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Lunch, Dinner and Waterfalls, Too (Back to Canada)

We did a spur of the moment trip earlier this summer to the Niagara-on-the-Lake area with trips to Hamilton and St. Catherine thrown in. We had been to the area a few times before but now there are even more places to eat (and drink) so we like to go back as frequently as possible. The fact that many of the Niagara escarpment wineries remind me a little bit of the California wineries we used to visit in the early 1990’s also helps. I also love to drive around the area to see not only what the farmers are growing but what dishes the chefs are creating with all this bounty before them.

We made it over the border crossing in about 40 minutes (yeah!) and found ourselves at the amazing winery/restaurant of Two Sisters Vineyard. The problem with eating “across the border” is that it is difficult to make a lunch reservation because you never know how long the wait will be to get across! Luckily, even though the restaurant was packed, they managed to find a table for us.

We didn’t waste any time when ordering. Glasses of wine. A wood-burning stove that spit out pizzas (ours was covered with arugula and prosciutto) followed by a pasta Bolognese dish even though it was hotter than hell that day. For those who missed my last story mentioning the “Beef Strogonoff” that Lynn consumed (again on a really hot day), well, all I can say is “Bon Appetit!”

Dare I mention they brought us out the largest bowl of grated cheese I’ve ever seen? I mean it was the size of a casserole dish! Look, our server is even showing off by holding it in one hand! (Actually I asked her to hold it that way so I could take the photograph.)

After lunch we drove around the area and to kill some time before our next meal, we went to a winery, Tawse, in Vineland, Ontario, we had missed the last time around. But first, we drove down a street called Cherry Avenue. What did we find on Cherry Avenue? You betcha!

To say I was excited about seeing cherries for the first time in person, in all their cherry goodness, is beyond words.

Dinner at Quatrefoil

This had been on my list of restaurants to go to for quite some time. Housed in a lovely house in the town of Dundas, Ontario, on Thursday nights they do a 3 course prix fixe “Farmer’s Supper.” So it being Thursday, that’s what we had. For starters, I had the white asparagus vinaigrette. Now this may not seem like a special dish, after all it’s just asparagus, right? But since I grew up in Munich, we waited anxiously every year for the asparagus season to start (usually the end of April/beginning of May). White asparagus was always preferred to the green kind and once the asparagus came out it was sold in farmer’s markets and was a featured dish in nearly every restaurant. To say it was a big deal is an understatement. Now, however, when I see white asparagus in the market, it just doesn’t taste the way I remember. This asparagus with a perfect vinaigrette absolutely hit the spot though.

Next up a perfectly cooked moist piece of salmon. Now, I realize I shouldn’t be that excited about salmon, right? Trust me this was exquisite. Do I dare mention that Lynn had beef (a steak) again? And no, I’m not posting a picture of his steak. Absolutely not.

A few days prior, I had seen on Instagram that the chef de cuisine of Quatrefoil, James Bourdeau, had “acquired” lots of different fresh berries from a local farm. “Where were the berries?” I asked our server. He wasn’t sure but he would find out. Imagine my surprise (and laughter) when a plate of berries was brought out for me to try.

And then Chef Bourdeau came out to talk to us! How cool is that? Thank you Chef!

Dessert included a deconstructed chocolate cake and mousse combo with fresh mint leaves and a lovely rhubarb creme brulee (not shown here since the shot came out blurry – probably from all the excitement.) I mean fresh picked berries and white asparagus in the same meal? I thought the food was amazing, the plating stellar and the service was outstanding.

Craving Indian…Still Craving Indian

Lunch that day was a choice of Thai or Indian in St. Catherines. We chose the Indian since 1. We love Indian. 2. We can’t find decent Indian near us. 3. We hadn’t had naan or curry in a long time.

It’s always disappointing to crave ethnic food and then not have them deliver what you’re craving. While the chicken tikka masala was okay, the naan and poori breads were just not as light and fluffy as they could have been. We sucked it up and decided Thai might have been a better choice that afternoon.

Creekside Estate Winery for Dinner

We had been to Creekside Estate Winery the year before and liked their varietals very much. They pour a strong Sauvignon Blanc and Syrah, too. A chef I had been following on Instagram, Ross Midgley, was cooking that summer on the deck at this winery so of course we wanted to visit.

Friday nights at the Creekside they have a limited menu but live music. Dare I mention it was really hot that Friday night – so hot we were sweltering and of course there wasn’t even a gust of wind in sight. We sat and drank lots of cold white wine to cool off. And then ordered some pretty outstanding food.

We started with a plate of oysters! Yeah, I love oysters! Then moved on to the Mediterranean platter (grilled halloumi, pita, olives and red peppers). Look at those cute little French jam jars – one filled with hummus and the other with Greek yogurt. And finally, the lobster roll was pretty decent, too. Thank you Chef!

We also got a chance to talk to Chef Midgley which was a special treat since he only had one other person helping him in the minimalist deck “kitchen” (fridge/work counter/grill) that evening.

Waterfalls, Waterfalls

Before we left to drive home, we decided to visit a couple of waterfalls in the area. Now since we have a waterfall in our backyard (albeit one you have to hike to), we shouldn’t have been as excited about seeing these. But they were pretty and we basically had the place to ourselves. I’ll leave you with two photographs…

Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.

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A Trip To See Lucy, A First Time Visit to Chautauqua Plus A Dose Of Frank Lloyd Wright

While I wasn’t a big “I Love Lucy” fan, I did understand the appeal of the show and her character. Therefore, when I found out earlier this summer that there was a museum devoted entirely to her career in her hometown of Jamestown, NY, I thought it might be worth a visit.

The Lucille Ball Desi Arnaz Museum is actually housed in two store-front buildings in downtown Jamestown, NY. I think the museum does a pretty good job showcasing not only her career but the relationship she had with Desi in producing the show. It was also fun to see some of the (recreated) stage sets they used during the filming.

Looking at the old issues of TV guide, I got a sense of how very popular she was during the 1950’s not to mention the countless movies (over 80!) she did even before the show!

I was particularly thrilled to learn she also was the first woman to run a major television production studio (Desilu Productions) that she retained even after she and Desi divorced.

On the way out of town we also paid a visit to the cemetery where she is buried. I have to assume the cemetery staff got tired of having to explain to countless visitors where her plot was located since they thought of a clever way to lead one to her. (Hint: follow the red hearts!)

Next Stop: Chautauqua Institution

While I had read about Chautauqua and all the programs they offer during the summer, until we moved full-time to the Mohawk Valley driving there from Long Island just wasn’t going to work for us.

Earlier in the summer I came across a play “One Man, Two Guvnors” that was being performed by the Chautauqua Theater Company and it sounded really fun so we got tickets for a Sunday matinee. (It’s a British play that premiered in London in 2011 based on a 1743 Italian comedy.)

Never having visited Chautauqua, I wasn’t sure what to expect. 1. I knew there was a religious component to the organization but I also knew there were lots of educational things (lectures, art classes, plus theatre and music events that one could attend. 2. I didn’t realize how big the place was (kind of like a small town) and that you could actually live there for the summer.

I did enjoy walking around and seeing the Victorian-style houses and we even walked into the Athenaeum Hotel to get a glimpse at the inside. (It’s less posh inside than it looks on the outside.

I also enjoyed looking at the flowers (lots and lots of flowers) that lined many of the walkways and in the gardens of many of the houses.

So bottom line, we enjoyed our visit and the play very much. And if next summer the theatre company puts on a play that we might like to see, I would definitely make the now not-so-distant journey. (It’s about a 4.5 hour drive as opposed to a 7 hour drive!)

Dinner on Lake Erie

I’m allowed to be a snob when it comes to Italian-American restaurants. My husband, Lynn, is first generation Italian-American (his mother was a WWII bride from Naples, Italy) and the true Italian food she cooked tasted nothing like what is being served in “Italian” restaurants even 40 years after I first met her.

So when I found a restaurant on Lake Erie that kind of had the feel of an Italian-American “red sauce” joint but the menu proved to be so very different, I was cautiously optimistic.

It was a Sunday night in the summer and there in the town of Hamburg, New York, with a view of Lake Erie is Lucia’s on the Lake. We had luckily made a dinner reservation that happened to coincide perfectly with the sunset that evening. Plus we were seated at a high table in the bar where the (noisy) party people were hanging out but at least we had a view.

Here’s our view that night:

And really, if you ignore the power lines, it was really very pretty. The food I have to say was amazing but pricey. So if you can skip ordering the high ticket items, go for some great cooking, a decent wine list and a view overlooking Lake Erie that can’t be beat.

I had the halibut, shrimp and clam special over linguine and Lynn, well, Lynn insisted he was ordering the beef “Stroganoff.” Last time I saw that on the menu was probably in the 1980’s at the original Russian Tea Room in New York City. That dish practically screams “winter” in my mind but sometimes the guy just has to eat meat. (I tasted it and the dish was really delicious but too heavy for me.)

Graycliff – a Frank Lloyd Wright Design

We had reserved tickets nearly 1 month in advance to tour Graycliff, a house that Frank Lloyd Wright built in the late 1920’s for Isabelle and Darwin Martin overlooking Lake Erie. We had visited the Martin house in Buffalo last year but never got around to seeing their “modest” lake home. (Mr. Martin worked for the Larkin Company which was a huge soap manufacturer in the late 1800’s.)

The house is now owned by a group called the Graycliff Conservancy. This non-profit was responsible for saving the property in the late 1990’s. It had been sold by the Martin family to a group of Hungarian priests in the 1950’s who established a boarding school on the grounds and the priests, unfortunately, took it upon themselves to make some cosmetic and structural changes to the complex.

Like many other Frank Lloyd Wright houses we’ve seen, there were massive renovations to be done to bring the house back to its original grandeur. While the Conservancy is not quite there yet (funding obviously being a big issue), they have accomplished enough I thought to give visitors like ourselves a glimpse into life on the lake during the “roaring 20’s.”

They’ve just started landscaping some of the front areas of the house and are still trying to furnish the house with authentic period pieces. A tour of the kitchen revealed this incredibly interesting sink. It seems that Isabelle was an avid gardener and loved having fresh flowers everywhere in the house. She had this sink designed so that when she was bringing in cut flowers to make arrangements, she could stand them up and give them a sip of water to boot. I think this is one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen.

So this summer our “bucket” list got a bit shorter by visiting this Frank Lloyd Wright gem. We loved touring the house and hearing all the tales of the family who lived there.

Until our next “Let’s Go” adventure.