5/24/10
Vermont III
Sunday and Monday in Vermont.
More low-key local food. Notably, we made a point to eat lunch at The Farmer's Diner in Quechee where the slogan is 'Think Local, Eat Neighbourly.' The menu consists of items like slow-cooked maple pulled pork, fresh-cut French fries, 'tanned cows' (grilled cheese sandwiches), and fat mason jars brimming with ice cold milkshakes.
There was also time spent outdoors at the Quechee Gorge and Lake Champlain.
And little else.
A lovely, lovely trip, suggested by my very best friend.
5/22/10
Vermont II
Saturday. Brattleboro.
The parking area at the Brattleboro Farmer's Market is an orderly line-up of Subarus (the vehicle of choices for bohemian Vermonters), rusty Mercedes Benzes, and boxy old Volvos. Imagine, then, the patrons themselves, sporting naturally-silver hair, neatly plaited in single braids down to their bums, with weathered faces, tanned calves (effortlessly toned by hilly bike commutes), and baggy cotton shorts. And then guess at what might be on offer at such a market. Brown bottles of homemade root beer, hot sugared doughnut holes, delicate date-filled ma'mool, iced soy lattes, steamed spicy pork buns, pretty pottery berry bowls, chair massages, bright red strawberries, and soft black sheep skins.
And then take your mind across town to the Brattleboro Food Co-op, where you'll run into several of the same people you saw at the market (and all of them will say hello). And where you'll pick up picnic foods: black beans with corn and cilantro, slippery mushroom dumplings, crispy tofu tenders in a smooth ginger glaze, French onion potato chips, broccoli spears with miso and toasty sesame seeds, unsweetened ice tea (the American way!), and Lake Champlain chocolate.
Stroll, afterward, to Sam's Outfitters (of course, they have free popcorn! don't all stores do things like that for their customers?) and Twice Upon a Time (just across the street) to poke through a few thousand square feet of teak deer sculptures, framed needlepoint, mismatched cuff links, go-go dresses, and turquoise-coloured salt and pepper shakers.
You'll be tired after all this, of course, so ask your friend to drive you back to The Putney Inn, which is stuck in a Victorian time warp, a phenomenon that will lull you, finally, into the small town mindset that you remember from your Maritime childhood.
Of course, your friend might not be tired. Send him to the first-annual Brattleboro Brewer's Fest, so you can be lazy, just for a little while.
While he's gone, you may wish to scuff down the road to the Putney Food Co-op, marveling on your way there at the warm sky, gently quilted with clouds. You'll pass Curtis' BBQ on your right, a hang-out for bikers and people who drive old convertibles painted in unappealing colors. Giant puffs of sweet-smelling smoke rise from the BBQ shack, and an old cowboy sings 'Hallelujah' from a picnic table near the back.
At the co-op, you'll fill a basket with all kinds of delicious things. Woodchuck draft cider, tiny tomatoes, Vermont Smoke and Cure beef sticks, peanut butter cookies, oatmeal soap and apple butter, a chocolate truffle, raspberry fig bars, and Vermont Common Cheddar Crackers.
On the way back to the inn, you will realize, thoughtfully, that everything else can wait.
Vermont I
First stop, Burlington's pretty university neighborhood, bordering the unoffensive, but bland, outdoor shopping district of Church Street. Our destination was Penny Cluse Cafe, a restaurant I had sussed out online, and which turned out to be a going concern among students, bohos, bobos, locals, and other uncommonly relaxed people. PCC serves healthy, interesting breakfasts and lunches until 3 pm daily. But what massive, American-sized portions! Less than nine dollars, for instance, netted a platter of pollock tacos with nuggets of tender pan-fried fish, a big scoop of soft turtle beans, cubes of ripe mango, generous spoonfuls of guacamole and pico de gallo, fresh corn nibblets, delicate red cabbage saurkraut, micro-matchsticks of radish, and shredded lettuce all atop three crunchy homebaked tortillas. Was I ever full!
Next we booted on to Putney, where we're staying for the next two nights. We relaxed on the bed for, oh, about twenty minutes before we were back in the car looking for our dinner spot. We'd booked a table at T.J. Buckley's, Brattleboro's hottest dining...car. The resto is made up of about six tables, tucked into into an old train car with a bricked-on piece built for a kitchen, and a shed stuck onto that for storage. It's all fine dining, with a verbal menu, and a hand-written bill. We ate too much (at least, I did; my stomach's not cut out for multi-course affairs). But too much of what we ate can never be a bad thing. Manchego and local feta tart with tiny snippets of thyme and dots of wildflower honey. Slow-roasted onion bread with butter and black pepper. Warm smoked trout with a spoonful of creme fraiche. Braised turnip, buttermilk mashed potatoes, fried, frizzled onions, sesame lentils with red cabbage coleslaw, paper-thin cucumbers sliced into a little pile. All very reasonable and low-key. Very laid-back and very Vermont.
5/21/10
5/8/10
Our People
Liz, Ziad, and Ella dropped by to say good-bye last night, and what a sad good-bye it was. I cried as they pulled out of the driveway, I cried riding the elevator back upstairs, and I was still sobbing while we opened the lovely, elegant wedding gifts they brought for us.
We have never had a friendship characterized by so much positive reciprocity as the one we have with them. The last year has been a steady give and take of baked goods, dinner leftovers, impromptu meals, clothes, tools, time, embraces, emails, texts, evening phone calls, walks along Wellington, and random items like lemons and wine and matches. We've often joked that a horizontal dumb waiter between our units would be useful. But using the door works even better, I suppose, because we get to see each other that way. Liz never fails to ask about my day. And Ziad rarely cooks a new dish without bringing over a heaping helping.
When you come from a family, as I do, whose histories have been wiped out by diaspora, fire, and abandonment, you may find yourself making home with an incredible voracity. You may have a sense, deep in your belly, that you should find a tribe of your own. That you should claim the extended family that isn't yours by birthright.
This is how Adam and I see Liz and Ziad and Ella. As part of our tribe. As our people.
The wind is whipping through the treetops this morning. A cold rain is coming down sideways. And the sky is a watery white with a confusing wash of blue in the background.
We have never had a friendship characterized by so much positive reciprocity as the one we have with them. The last year has been a steady give and take of baked goods, dinner leftovers, impromptu meals, clothes, tools, time, embraces, emails, texts, evening phone calls, walks along Wellington, and random items like lemons and wine and matches. We've often joked that a horizontal dumb waiter between our units would be useful. But using the door works even better, I suppose, because we get to see each other that way. Liz never fails to ask about my day. And Ziad rarely cooks a new dish without bringing over a heaping helping.
When you come from a family, as I do, whose histories have been wiped out by diaspora, fire, and abandonment, you may find yourself making home with an incredible voracity. You may have a sense, deep in your belly, that you should find a tribe of your own. That you should claim the extended family that isn't yours by birthright.
This is how Adam and I see Liz and Ziad and Ella. As part of our tribe. As our people.
The wind is whipping through the treetops this morning. A cold rain is coming down sideways. And the sky is a watery white with a confusing wash of blue in the background.
12/23/09
12/22/09
12/21/09
12/20/09
12/13/09
12/12/09
12/11/09
12/10/09
12/7/09
12/6/09
12/5/09
12/4/09
12/3/09
12/2/09
12/1/09
9/14/09
8/30/09
Bite Hard Works!
I'm starting a new job on Tuesday, so I won't be blogging much for the next little while. I won't be able to check my Gmail fifty times a day, so if you want to chat, please give me a call at home any evening or weekend!
8/29/09
8/23/09
Contest Winners
As you may know, I've been running a contest while away. I promised to award an East Coast-themed prize to the person who left the 'best' comment on any blog post relating to our vacation.
I'm actually awarding the prize to two contestants: Sarah Waterston and Jeremiah Soucie of Ottawa. Sarah left the loveliest birthday message for me yesterday. Here's some of it.
Thank you for your stories of visits to old and new haunts, new yet always familiar farmers' markets, natural wonders and various aspects of home. You may have a certain sense of belonging only where your parents make home, but your warmth creates a sense of home for the rest of us. Wherever you may be. We are looking forward to having you and Adam back home.
Jeremiah's comment, true to his nature, was wry, dry, and subtly protective. I'll leave it to readers to find it.
Since Sarah and Jeremiah share a household, they can also share the prize: a case of Stutz Hard Cider, an all-natural hard apple cider made in Nova Scotia's fertile Annapolis Valley.
Honourable Mentions go to Cathy Tuey from Ottawa for leaving a comment about her upcoming trip to the East Coast and to Lorraine Soucie who lives in Wicklow, New Brunswick, for leaving a beautiful little ditty only a few minutes after we left the Soucie ranch this morning.
P.S. I have discovered that among my other odd 'likes,' running contests ranks highly on the list! Hope to have even more comments on my next trip log!
I'm actually awarding the prize to two contestants: Sarah Waterston and Jeremiah Soucie of Ottawa. Sarah left the loveliest birthday message for me yesterday. Here's some of it.
Thank you for your stories of visits to old and new haunts, new yet always familiar farmers' markets, natural wonders and various aspects of home. You may have a certain sense of belonging only where your parents make home, but your warmth creates a sense of home for the rest of us. Wherever you may be. We are looking forward to having you and Adam back home.
Jeremiah's comment, true to his nature, was wry, dry, and subtly protective. I'll leave it to readers to find it.
Since Sarah and Jeremiah share a household, they can also share the prize: a case of Stutz Hard Cider, an all-natural hard apple cider made in Nova Scotia's fertile Annapolis Valley.
Honourable Mentions go to Cathy Tuey from Ottawa for leaving a comment about her upcoming trip to the East Coast and to Lorraine Soucie who lives in Wicklow, New Brunswick, for leaving a beautiful little ditty only a few minutes after we left the Soucie ranch this morning.
P.S. I have discovered that among my other odd 'likes,' running contests ranks highly on the list! Hope to have even more comments on my next trip log!
Final Days
Our final days on the East Coast were spent in Lunenburg, Mahone Bay, Halifax, and Florenceville. We went to yet another beach (Queensland), visited two totally cool art galleries (Argyle Art Gallery and Seeds), climbed Citadel Hill, ate dinner at The Wooden Monkey (Halifax's organic, locally-inspired restaurant), popped into the Halifax Farmer's Market, sat back for a guided tour around Florenceville, and took a break at a St. Hubert (which now serves only grain-fed Quebec chicken) just before we got to Montreal. We drank free iced tea, Nova Scotia lager, iced coffee from The Laughing Whale, and watermelon lemonade. We ate salt water taffy, caramelized parsnip soup, baked halibut, cinnamon rolls from Mary's Bread Basket, BBQ chicken thighs, organic garden vegetables, crispy bacon with scrambled eggs and toast, wild blueberries, and several runny slices of the best lemon pie on the planet. Also, yesterday I turned 29 and I'm feeling fine! (Adam hates 'catch phrases' to describe birthdays, but I think they're awesome.)
A huge thank-you to Allen and Anna for taking amazing care of our house and the kittens, to Liz and Ziad for lending us camping gear, to Chris for being a fantastic host in Moncton, to Wendy for lending us her car to take to Nova Scotia, to both Adam's parents for throwing a fun family dinner, to Karen for suggesting that we eat at The Wooden Monkey, to both my parents for hosting overnight guests not once, but twice, and for making us fabulous BBQ, to my mother for baking the famous birthday pie in 35 degree heat, and to my father for sending us home with six garden cucumbers, a huge cardboard box full of organic potatoes, and two homemade banana breads.
Riva, home.
A huge thank-you to Allen and Anna for taking amazing care of our house and the kittens, to Liz and Ziad for lending us camping gear, to Chris for being a fantastic host in Moncton, to Wendy for lending us her car to take to Nova Scotia, to both Adam's parents for throwing a fun family dinner, to Karen for suggesting that we eat at The Wooden Monkey, to both my parents for hosting overnight guests not once, but twice, and for making us fabulous BBQ, to my mother for baking the famous birthday pie in 35 degree heat, and to my father for sending us home with six garden cucumbers, a huge cardboard box full of organic potatoes, and two homemade banana breads.
Riva, home.