All posts by Laurie Graves

I write about nature, food, the environment, home, family, community, and people.
Food

To A1 Diner We Went: There and Back Again

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Yesterday, on a gray day perfect for going out for lunch, we went to A1 Diner in Gardiner. (Thanks, Shannon and MIke for the gift certificate.)

A1, as it is locally called, really is a diner car, perched on the edge of a rather steep drop-off.

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Like the outside, the inside of the diner is a trip back in time. Need I add that this is one of our favorite places in central Maine?

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The food is fresh and tasty, and oh, the fries!

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The chicken sandwich was pretty darned good, too.

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After lunch, we went to Craft Beer Cellar, where we used yet another gift certificate. (Again, thanks Mike and Shannon.)

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As Clif is the one who likes beer—I’m more of a cocktail kind of woman—he perused the selection while I chatted with John, the owner of the store. We talked about Gardiner’s main street, how it has gone from being a street with too many empty store fronts to a bustling place with many businesses, which, for now, are thriving.

“The city has been very supportive,” John told me. “None of us would be here without that help.”

Take note other little towns in central Maine, especially those with a less than thriving main street. I’m not going to mention any names. Seeds of growth must be watered and fed before they sprout, and too many town councils are penny wise and pound foolish. (For more about how Gardiner promotes businesses that are apt to stick around, click here to read this piece by centralmaine.com.)

Then it was back home again, where I discovered that the small swamp up the road was finally free of ice. Would there be peepers come nightfall?

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No, but there were plenty of clicking frogs. Surely the peepers will soon be singing their spring song.

Food, Movies

What a Clever Couple Are We: A New Snack, Pizza, and Diva

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At the little house in the big woods, the excitement just never ends. Yesterday, Clif and I came up with an idea that was so brilliant we could hardly stop congratulating ourselves. After thirty-nine years of marriage, we discovered…drum roll, please…that we could actually make our very own nutty, crunchy mix at a fraction of the cost of buying it prepackaged.

I know. This sounds like an April Fool’s Day joke, but honest to gory, Clif and I actually did the snack equivalent of reinventing the wheel. Let’s just say that we could never be accused of being fast learners.

The proof is in the picture, and here it is.

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For the price of one container of this snack at Target, we bought all the ingredients, which made a very large bowl of crunchy goodness. There is enough left of everything for another bowl with the same amount. We used peanuts, pretzels, and little wheat sticks. Obviously, other goodies could be added—Chex cereal, little rice crackers, almonds, cashews. The list goes on and on.

Our friends Alice and Joel came over for movie night, and we served this snack as an appetizer. Alice and Joel gave us the best praise they could by eagerly digging in. By the time the pizza was ready, there was just a wee bit left in the bowl. I promised our friends that this mix would be served at future gatherings, especially on the patio during the summer.

Movie night has come to mean pizza night, and I know this is bragging, but Clif has developed a very good hand with dough. He knows just how to stretch and flour it so that the pizza is chewy and satisfying. Last night’s pizza was topped with turkey pepperoni, chunks of sweet red pepper, and slices of mushroom. Clif also uses a blend of cheese—cheddar, mozzarella, and Parmesan.

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Settling in the living room with our pizza and Alice’s tasty endive-stuffed salad, we watched Diva, a quirky French movie made in the early 1980s. IMDb’s description of this movie is so concise and snappy that I decided I could do no better:  “Two tapes, two Parisian mob killers, one corrupt policeman, an opera fan, a teenage thief, and the coolest philosopher ever filmed. All these characters twist their way through an intricate and stylish French language thriller. ”

The only thing I can add to this is that the movie has aged well and doesn’t seem terribly dated. Oh, and the Diva has a magnificent voice that positively soars. One more thing: Diva gets a 96% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. If you haven’t seen this movie, then put it on your watch list.

After the movie, we had warm apple crisp and vanilla ice cream. We discussed the movie and the problems of the world.

A new snack, pizza and salad, a good movie, and apple crisp.

What a way to end March.

 

Food for Thought, Recipes

Of Apple Muffins and Housing Prices

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IMG_1433On Tuesday, our friends Judy and Paul came over for muffins, tea, and talk. We discussed many things but one topic was the movie The Big Short, which is about the 2008 financial crisis and the bursting of the U.S.  housing bubble. This utterly engaging and creative movie is now available on DVD, and I think it should be required viewing for everyone over sixteen. Make that fifteen.

Only a few people saw the financial crisis coming, and some of these people are profiled in the movie. However, a few years before the fall, some of us could see that housing prices had become so high that average folks simply could not afford them. And despite the drop in prices that came about after the Great Recession, houses are still too expensive for many people.

A couple of years ago, I remember walking with my daughter in her South Portland neighborhood, and we passed a cute little Cape that was for sale.

“I checked on the price,” Shannon said, “and it’s going for $250, 000.”

“Son of a biscuit!” I said, or something to that effect. The house was sweet and well cared for. It was also what I would call a “bread and butter” house, an average little home perfect for a family just starting out. Nice but modest and nothing special. Certainly not special enough to warrant such a high price.

“How can average people afford such prices?” I asked.

“They can’t,” Shannon replied. “That’s why so many people rent. Or, they buy homes farther away and commute to their jobs.”

But even in Gorham, a town outside Portland, a modest but well-kept home with three bedrooms starts at $200,000. (In central Maine, where I live, it’s about $150,000.) Now, I realize that for other parts of the country, these prices might sound like chump change, but consider who Maine’s largest employer is: Hannaford Supermarket. Certainly, some people at the top make a good salary, but most of the people working for Hannaford don’t make a living wage. Most of them aren’t even technically working full time and therefore don’t receive benefits.

And rents aren’t exactly cheap, either. This means that in Maine, as well as in much of the rest of the country, housing prices or rent prices are a real burden for a significant part of the population. I’m not clever enough to come up with a solution, but do we really want a society where average wages cannot buy an average house? Or rent a decent apartment? (Throw in the cost of education and transportation, and no wonder you have a restive populace.)

This is a weighty topic. A good thing, then, on Tuesday, that we had apple muffins on Tuesday to sweeten the conversation. These muffins have a nut-crumb topping that would be good on almost any muffin, say, blueberry or pumpkin or banana.

Apple Muffins with a Nut-Crumb Topping
Adapted from a Betty Crocker recipe

Ingredients

For the muffins:

  • 2 cups of flour
  • 3 teaspoons of baking powder
  • 1 teaspoon of salt
  • 1/2 teaspoon of cinnamon
  • 1/2 cup of sugar
  • 1/4 cup of vegetable oil or melted butter, cooled slightly
  • 1 cup of milk
  • 1 egg
  • 1 apple, peeled and grated

For the topping:

  • 1/3 cup of brown sugar, packed
  • 1/3 cup of chopped pecans or walnuts
  • 1/2 teaspoon of cinnamon

Directions

  1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees and grease the muffin tin. This recipe will make either 12 regular sized muffins or 6 large muffins.
  2. In a small bowl, mix the topping—the brown sugar, pecans, and cinnamon.
  3. In another small bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, cinnamon, and salt.
  4. In a large bowl, beat the egg. Add the milk and the oil or butter. Mix well. Add the grated apple and sugar. Mix again.
  5. Add the flour mixture, stirring only until the batter is mixed.
  6. Divide the dough among the muffin cups. Sprinkle each muffin with some of the crumb-nut topping.
  7. Bake for 20 or 25 minutes or until the tops are brown.
  8. Let the muffins rest in the tin on a rack for five minutes before popping them out.
  9. Enjoy with a bit of butter, which, for this Franco-American, improves many, many things.
Nature

Birds, Birds, Birds!

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The end of March, and our backyard is positively aflutter with birds. The trees are full of them, and the cheeping of the goldfinches at times reaches a shrill but thrilling crescendo. In between, I hear the lovely song of our cardinal; the chipper call of the chickadees, plentiful but never common, as a good friend once noted; the cooing of mourning doves; and many other bird voices.

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New to the backyard are our cardinal and his mate. To say it is a thrill to have them here is a big, big understatement. Cardinals, recent arrivals in Maine, tend to like open spaces, and the yard at the little house in the big woods is anything but open. However, the cardinals came to us last spring, and they are with us still. I suppose there is less competition from other cardinals here as well as a steady supply of food. Whatever the reason, I hope they (and their descendants) make this their permanent home.

Another new arrival is the red-bellied woodpecker, and this bird is even more recent than the cardinals, which have been in Maine for fifteen or twenty years. Until a couple of years ago, I had never seen a red-bellied woodpecker. Now, they are fairly common to the area, and we have at least one coming to the feeder. (Perhaps more. It’s hard for me to distinguish one from the other, but I have only seen one at a time.)

Last week, we bought bird seed and filled the feeders.  Within a week, the feeders needed to be refilled. The birds are hungry, even hungrier than they were in the winter, when we filled the feeders every few weeks. Perhaps it’s because they are getting ready to start their families, and no doubt this is hungry work. Whatever the case, we dote on the birds and will keep those feeders full.

In a month or so, when the weather is warmer, we plan to invite our friends John and Beth over for grilled pizza. They love sitting on the patio and watching the birds as much as we do, and last spring we spent a happy afternoon watching the fluttering beauties who are not in the least bothered by us or our noisy dog.

My little camera, which does such a great job with flowers and food, does not capture birds very well. Nevertheless, knowing I am in for heartbreak and disappointment, I try, snapping away at the various birds that come to our backyard. Clif also tries to take pictures of these little creatures that seldom sit still.

But once in a while, we even get a couple of pictures that we can actually use in a post.

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Art, Food

Fish and Chips, Art, and Bread: A Trip to Waterville

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On Saturday, Clif and I went to Waterville to see their library’s art show. But before going to the show, we had to sustain ourselves with lunch at the wonderful Riverside Farm Restaurant in Oakland. (Thanks, Rose and Steve, for the gift certificate.) Inside, Riverside Farm is rustic but oh so pretty.

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As it turned out, Saturday was our lucky day—fish and chips were on the menu. Because of overfishing, we only eat wild-caught fish about twice a year. (One more meal to go.) Goodness, those fish and chips were tasty, cooked exactly right so that the fish was tender and flaky and the fries were brown on the outside yet chewy on the inside.

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After such a lunch, we were fully fuelled and ready to go to the art show at the Waterville Public Library. Readers, I have a confession to make. As much as I love our library in Winthrop, I must admit that the Waterville Public Library was my first library love. I was born in Waterville, and this is the library where I began what would be a life-long adventure in reading.  So like all first loves, the Waterville Library is very special.

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A sign directed us to the art show.

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The art show was in a relatively small space, but the library made good use of display panels, and there was a lot of art to look at.

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As with any local show, the art was a mixed bag. There were many pieces that we would have been eager to take home, given that we had the extra money—we don’t—and the wall space—ditto. Other pieces, not so much.  Still, we enjoyed the show as well as talking to the young librarian at the desk. (These young librarians are certainly a lively bunch. Love them!)

The librarian spoke about how the art show was yet another way to bring people into the library, to promote community, and to emphasize how important the library is to Waterville.

Yes, indeed.

After the art show, we checked out a relatively new bakery, Universal Bread, that was celebrating its second anniversary. The bakery is tucked away on Temple Street and is not visible from the main street. Nevertheless, by 2:00 p.m. there was a sad sign on the door—SOLD OUT.

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Still, I decided to go inside to see the bakery and chat with the baker, Adrian Sulea. And a good thing, too, because although the fresh bread was sold out, he still had some day-old bread available.

“What time does the bread usually sell out?” I asked, looking around the simple but clean shop with racks of bread waiting to be picked up by customers who had placed orders ahead of time.

“Oh, around 2:00,” he answered with a smile. The shop is open until 5:30 p.m.

“Wonderful,” I said. “It’s great that you’re doing so well. Congratulations on your second anniversary.”

More smiles and “Thank you, thank you.”

Off we went with  a day-old baguette.  We stopped at the grocery store to buy brie and Jarlsberg cheese. At home we sliced the bread, the cheese, and some apples.

How was the day-old bread? Chewy and immensely satisfying. I can see why Sulea’s bread sells out by 2:00 p.m.

Even though I make most of the bread we eat, I’ll be going back to Universal Bread, especially when Dee comes from New York for a visit. Oh, that girl loves bread, and this is her kind of bread.

But I’ll be sure to call ahead.

Nature

March Madness

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Oh, wily March. Yesterday you gave us snow. Today, we get freezing rain. There is nothing quite  like that tick, tick, tick of freezing rain as it hits the house. Here are what the steps looked like this morning when I returned from a hair appointment in town.

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Here is a close-up. You can bet I used extreme caution going up and down the stairs.

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And just so the backyard doesn’t feel left out, here’s a picture of our woebegone patio.

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Never mind! Clif has a fire going in the wood furnace, so all is cozy at the little house in the big woods. Tonight is going to be treat night with chips and dip, frozen pizza, and a fun movie—we haven’t settled on which one yet.

So take that March and freezing rain!

Recipes

Old-Timey Biscuits for a Gray Spring Day

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Today the sky is Puritan gray, as gray as a bleak day in November. At the little house in the big woods, there is still snow in the front yard. Not much, but it is there.

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I am itching for warmer weather, to pick up sticks in the yard, to start removing leaves from my flower beds, to plant some pansies, one of my favorite flowers. How I love their little faces. There are, of course, many chores I could be doing inside, cleaning and organizing, but I don’t want to do any of them. The spring bug has bitten me, even though it doesn’t seem very much like spring in central Maine.

I know. This is Maine. This is March. I have the doldrums. I get them every year at about this time, and I am not alone. As I have mentioned in previous posts, March is not very popular in Maine, and many people get the doldrums during this  month. I wouldn’t categorize the doldrums as a full-blown depression but rather, a restlessness, an impatience that can make a person a little cranky.

But April, sweet April—not the cruelest month at all, not by a long shot—is just around the corner. In Maine, April is the month when the trees begun to bud and the flowers show their lovely green foliage. April is the month where the water runs along the side of the road, singing its spring song, and in the little swamp up from us, the peepers add their enchanting trill.

I’ve written this before, and I’m writing it again: Spring and rebirth are an old story that never gets old. Each year, I greet it with a beginner’s mind, so very grateful to be here for yet another spring.

In the meantime, we have March, seven more days of it. What to do? What to do? Why, make biscuits and turkey soup. Years back, I shared this biscuit recipe, but that was many posts ago, and I thought it was time to share it again. It is an old-timey recipe given to me by my mother, and it calls for heaping teaspoons of baking powder and a cup of milk, strong. Goodness, my mother could make biscuits. I’ve never tasted any that were better. Mine aren’t bad,  but they can’t compete with hers.

For a New Englander, any time is biscuit time, but they are especially good on what we call “raw” days, when the weather is gray and bone-chilling and all you can do is think about the darling buds of May. In fact, you’d settle for the swelling buds of April.

Serve homemade soup along with the biscuits, and you have what might be called a March consolation.

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Old-Timey Biscuits (Rochelle’s Recipe)

Ingredients

  • 2 cups of flour
  • 1 teaspoon of salt
  • 3 heaping teaspoons of baking powder
  • 4 tablespoons of shortening
  • 1 cup of milk, strong (Pour the milk until it comes just a bit above the one-cup mark.)

Directions

  1. In a large mixing bowl, add the flour, salt, and baking powder. Stir well.
  2. With a fork or a pastry blender, cut in the four tablespoons of shortening until the mixture is crumbly.
  3. Add the milk. The mixture will be very runny. (When it comes to biscuits, the softer the dough, the better.) Let it rest a few minutes until the baking powder kicks in to firm-up the dough.
  4. Scrape the dough onto a floured board or counter. With floured hands, pat it a few times until you have the desired thickness.
  5. Using a biscuit cutter or a glass, cut out the biscuits and put them in an ungreased 8×8 pan. Note: I like my biscuits squished together so that they come out very soft. If you like crispier biscuits, put them on a cookie sheet and leave space around them.
  6. Dab tops with butter.
  7. Bake them in a preheated 450 degree oven for 15 to 20 minutes or until the tops are golden brown.
  8. Serve ’em hot with plenty of butter. That is how they are best.
People

The Power of Kind Words: You’re Cured

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Yesterday, I went for my annual physical at Winthrop Family Medicine, which is conveniently located right here in town at a health center in an old converted factory. Although I dislike going to the doctors as much the next person, I am very grateful to have this health center in Winthrop, where the staff is friendly and efficient and the services range from lab work to imaging, including walk-in mammograms. Winthrop, population 6,000, is one lucky little town. (When my husband broke his arm, he was in and out of the health center in an hour, and that included getting a cast. )

Dr. Gasper, my doctor, went over my blood work with me, and for someone who is, ahem, carrying a little more weight than she should, I am in amazingly good health. I suppose it must be partially genetic and also partly because that even though I eat more than I should—I am a good eater, after all—I do eat well, with plenty of fruit and vegetables in my daily diet, very little red meat, and a fair amount of olive oil.

Then we moved on to a topic that has dominated my life for the past six years—breast cancer. In the summer of 2010, I was diagnosed with this disease. Fortunately, the cancer was slowing growing and lazy, both very good qualities when they’re applied to cancer. I had a lumpectomy and radiation. Chemotherapy was not needed.

Dr. Gasper, that rare doctor who actually has a calming effect on people, looked at me and smiled. “You are considered cured,” he said.

Cured! What a wonderful word.

Now, Dr. Gaspar wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know. At the Cancer Center in Augusta, after five years, I was given the option of  going to my primary care physician for yearly check-ups, and that’s exactly what I decided to do.  I will not miss those trips to the Cancer Center, and going to my regular doctor makes me feel like a regular person, which, after breast cancer, is a wonderful way to feel.

But to hear my doctor say those words—“You’re cured”—well, it was as though he had given me a gold star.

After I left, feeling oh-so-happy, I reflected on the power of words and their ability to either bolster us or drag us down. Kind words, even if they are true and self-evident, can ripple forward for years, leaving a good impression in our memories.  They can steer us in the right direction and help us to think better of ourselves.

Going forward, I will be more  mindful of what I say. Are my words kind or unkind? Do they help or hurt? Even if they are true, do they need to be said?

A final lesson for me: No matter how old we are, we can always learn to become more mindful. And more kind.