Category Archives: Food

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

March 28, 2016 Laurie Graves 10 Comments

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.

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.

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.

A sign directed us to the art show.

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.

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.

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.

Books, Food

If I Had a Bucket List…Shakespeare’s First Folio

March 17, 2016 Laurie Graves 12 Comments

As the title of this post indicates, I don’t have a bucket list. I have nothing against them, but a bucket list is not for me. Instead, I prefer to focus on each day, on my various projects, on nature, on family and friends.

However, if I did have a bucket list, then seeing Shakespeare’s First Folio—a book published in 1623 that contains thirty-six of Shakespeare’s plays—would be at the top of my list. It might even be number one. (I fell in love with Shakespeare when I was in seventh grade, and it has been an enduring love.)

Well, lucky me, lucky me—the First Folio is now in Portland, Maine. The Folger Shakespeare Library, which has eighty-two copies of the First Folio—has sponsored a First Folio Tour, where in 2016 this great book will be displayed in all fifty states as well as in Washington, DC, and Puerto Rico. In Maine, the Portland Public Library was chosen as the host site, and as Portland is only a little over an hour from where we live, getting to the First Folio is pretty easy. (How glad I am that I don’t live in northern Maine. I guess I still would have made the pilgrimage.)

Our friends Alice and Joel, who are also fans of Shakespeare, were over last weekend, and as we discussed the First Folio, I wondered if I would cry when I saw it.

Rather than look at me as though I were crazy, they just nodded, and Joel compared the First Folio to the Holy Grail. Or something like that. And how right he was. For those of us who love literature and plays, Shakespeare is at the top, reigning supreme.

Readers, I did not cry when I saw the First Folio on Tuesday. I was in too much awe. An attendant led us into a small darkened room, which, when the doors opened, came the blast of Handel’s Messiah. Just kidding about that last bit. The room was as quiet as an empty church.

The First Folio, of course, was in a case, and the book was opened to Hamlet’s “To be or not to be” speech. I stayed for some time gazing at this beautiful old book with its gold-edged pages. The First Folio is very modern in its layout and very Elizabethan in its spelling. It looked pretty much the way I thought it would except for the large size and thickness. This was not a book for everyday folks. According to the Portland Public Library’s website, the First Folio “originally sold for one British pound (20 shillings)—about $200 today.” And in The First Folio, Peter Blayney writes that “nothing quite like it had ever been published in folio before….The folio format was usually reserved for works of reference…and for the collected writings of important authors…”

In Elizabethan times, plays were not considered “important” but instead trivial, the mass entertainment of the time “unworthy of serious consideration as literature.” But somehow, two of Shakespeare’s fellow actors thought it worthwhile to publish the First Folio, and to them we must be forever grateful. Without that First Folio, many, if not most, of Shakespeare’s plays might very well have been forgotten and lost.

What to do after such an experience? Why, on to Lewiston to Fuel, my favorite restaurant in Maine.

I had a cocktail. In fact, I had two cocktails—after all!—and Clif had two beers. (He was the designated driver that night.)

We both had burgers, which come with delectable fries at no extra cost. On Tuesday, everything on the bar menu is $9 or less, which means the food is quite the bargain. Especially if you can limit yourself to one cocktail or a glass of wine or beer.

Home we went in a happy haze, full of good food and good drinks. What a way to end First Folio day.

Food

Pie Day 2016

March 15, 2016 Laurie Graves 13 Comments

Yesterday—3-14—was pie day, and we went to to visit our friends Judy and Paul to celebrate this happy day. Now, I like cake as much as the next person, but given a choice between a good piece of cake and an equally good piece of pie, I would choose pie every time. In short, I am a huge fan of pie.

Judy made a blueberry pie, and oh my, does she have a good hand with the crust. Judy makes such good pies that if she invites you over for pie, then do not hesitate. Go.

Judy’s grandmother taught her to label pies with an initial, for example “B” for blueberry. I think this is an excellent idea. That way, if you bring your pie to an event, there is no confusion as to what kind of pie it is.

For me, when it comes to pie, the crème de la crème is the edge, where there is just a smear of fruit or berry. I save that part for last, just as I save the tail for last when I am eating lobster. The edge of Judy’s pie was everything it should be—flaky, brown, and so satisfying.

On the way home, Clif said, “Her crust is as good as yours.”

This is high praise coming from my Yankee husband, a compliment for both Judy and me.

Food, People

Lunch with Piper and Beth

February 20, 2016 Laurie Graves 10 Comments

Yesterday, I was invited to have lunch with my friend Beth and her granddaughter Piper, who soon will be two.

Before lunch we played a game of peekaboo.

Then came a wonderful lunch of chicken salad with grapes, almonds, and a bit of marmalade with the mayonnaise; raspberry muffins; and cantaloup. For dessert, hermit cookies. Let’s just say my reputation as A Good Eater remains untarnished.

After lunch, we had tea and chatted while Piper played, involving us from time to time in say, ball or change the baby doll’s diaper.

All too soon, it was time to leave so that Piper could have stories and a nap.

Before I left, I said, “When the weather is good, come join Liam and me for a walk on the trails behind the Winthrop high school.”

“Piper has a jogging stroller,” Beth said. “And we’ve gone on the trails in Vaughn woods.”

“Then trails at the high school shouldn’t give you any problem,” I said.

Piper blew me a kiss, and I blew one back. As I drove home, I thought about what I would have for Beth and Piper after the walk. A light lunch, perhaps, and some little toy—toy farm animals or dinosaurs for Piper to play with.

I’ll be on the lookout.

Food, Movies

Pizza, Pumpkin Roll, and Monsoon Wedding

February 19, 2016 Laurie Graves 14 Comments

Last night was movie night at the little house in the big woods, where we were joined by three friends—Alice and Joel and Diane—to watch and discuss a movie. Last night was Alice’s turn to choose, and she picked Mira Nair’s Monsoon Wedding.

The movie came out in 2001, and this was a second viewing for all of us. Alice and Joel told of how they saw Monsoon Wedding for the first time at the Toronto Film Festival, right after the terrorist attacks on September 11. A joyous, bright film about an arranged marriage in India, Monsoon Wedding was just what Alice and Joel needed to see after the terrible attacks. (Can fifteen years have really passed since that dreadful day? We had a daughter living in New York City and another one living in Washington, DC. It is a day Clif and I will not forget.)

But back to movie night. Clif made two of his delectable pizzas. We always mean to get a picture of them, but somehow, between the rush to eat and watch the movie, we never do.

We were more on top of things with the beautiful dessert—a pumpkin roll—that Alice made. As soon I saw that roll, I knew it should have its picture taken.

I am happy to report that the pumpkin roll tasted just as good as it looked. After watching Monsoon Wedding, we had coffee, tea, and pumpkin roll as we discussed the various aspects of the movie—in particular, arranged marriages. While acknowledging there were no guarantees with any marriage, I noted how strange it would be to marry someone you had never met or seen.

“Different customs for different cultures,” Diane observed, and how right she is.

We can be grateful to movies and books (and blogs!) that bring us glimpses of other cultures. They remind us that the world is full of diversity, and they enlarge our perspective, which is always a good thing.

Food, Movies

Youth and Gelato: A Trip to Brunswick

February 18, 2016 Laurie Graves 16 Comments

Yesterday, Clif and I took the afternoon off and headed to Brunswick for a movie and gelato. We had a gift certificate for each event, which meant that except for the gas, the outing was free—our favorite price.

Brunswick has an arty downtown filled with cafés and restaurants and various other shops. While it’s fun to walk on the sidewalks and look at the window displays, crossing the street is another matter. For some inexplicable reason, four lanes go through the downtown, and getting across them can feel like a heroic effort. There is only one spot with a sort of island and a walk signal to help pedestrians cross. Otherwise, it’s just a crosswalk. Hoping that cars will see you and therefore stop, you hold your breath as you scurry across the road.

But Clif and I made it safely across the road to Eveningstar Cinema, which shows independent films. We went to see Youth, directed by Paolo Sorrentino, who seems to be Fellini’s artistic, if not actual, heir. Odd characters are liberally sprinkled throughout this film—a grotesquely obese former sports star; a masseuse with jug ears, braces, and a rodent-like face; an expressionless woman who makes giant soap bubbles for the evening’s entertainment.

Youth is set in a resort in the Swiss Alps, and the resort is frequented by the weary one percent, who all appear as though they are about to die of ennui. Somehow, though, despite the the odd characters and the stylized and often surreal look of the film, Youth is a moving exploration of old age and the regret and diminishment that come with it. At the center of the story are Fred Ballinger, a composer, and Mick Boyle, a movie director. They are played respectively, and wonderfully, by Michael Caine and Harvey Keitel, who in real life do not at all seem to be diminished by age.

The esoteric Youth is not what I would call a crowd pleaser—although there were plenty of people who came to see it on a Wednesday afternoon at 1:30—but both Clif and I are admirers of this director, who manages to combine surrealism with deep emotion, not an easy trick.

After the movie, we again courted death by crossing the main street to have gelato at the incomparable Gelato Fiasco, where we both had hazelnut and chocolate. So very good.

Since December, the days have gotten longer, and we were able to make it home before dark. The older I get, the more I like this, especially during the winter.

The afternoon had been sunny and fifty degrees warmer than it was on Sunday. What a wild swing! However, this meant the house was warm, and there were still coals in the wood furnace. Clif had no problem restarting the fire.

For our supper we had chili on baked potatoes—I keep cans of chili in the pantry for just such an occasion, when we are out and about and want an easy meal to fix when we come home. A cozy, hearty supper after a good afternoon in Brunswick.

Animals - especially dogs, Food, Home

Creature Comforts in Deep Winter

February 12, 2016 Laurie Graves 16 Comments

Yesterday, I wrote about the spiritual comfort that books can bring to us during hard times. Today, my mind is on creature comforts, and no wonder because in Maine, we are in deep winter. The days might be getting longer—it doesn’t get dark now until 5:30—but they are cold, clear, and crisp. Unless it is snowing, of course.

This morning when Clif took the dog for a walk, it was dead calm and zero degrees. (Fahrenheit). At that temperature, the snow squeaks underfoot, and the warmest of winter clothes is needed—heavy coat, heavy gloves, hat, scarf—or neck warmer—thick boots. In deep winter, all sense of fashion is abandoned. The chief thing is to stay warm.

In the house this morning, the temperature was just below 60 degrees. We heat with a wood furnace, and in February it doesn’t quite make it through the night. This is why we sleep with piles of blankets pulled up to our noses so that we have a little tent for warmth.

This cold morning, it was very hard to get out of our warm bed. When we did get up and raised the shades, we found that the windows were frosted.

But soon Clif had the furnace going, and it wasn’t long before the house was a balmy sixty-four degrees. Throughout the day, the wood and the sun will raise the inside temperature to a little under seventy degrees, which is plenty cozy for us.

For this time of year, chicken soup is just the thing. One day, I cook a chicken, and we eat some of the meat. The next day, I make chicken stock using onion, garlic, carrots, whole cloves, peppercorns, a bay leaf, salt, thyme, and sage. Into the stock pot go the bones with the leftover meat. I cover them with water, add the other ingredients, and bring everything to a gentle simmer. I let the stock bubble for hours, until the house is fragrant with the smell, and Clif and I can hardly wait until dinner.

After the stock has simmered for hours, I strain the stock into a big pot, and let the bones cool before picking the meat. More carrots go into the stock, and because we are Mainers, potatoes often go in, too. The vegetables simmer until they are tender, and then I add the picked meat. A variation on this is to leave out the potatoes and instead go with pasta or rice. The pasta and rice and are never simmered into the soup because if they are, whatever is leftover will swell into alarming proportions. Instead, we cook pasta and rice separately, put them into the bottom of our bowls, and ladle the hot soup on top.

What to serve with chicken soup? Homemade bread is good, as are biscuits, but Clif and I seem to prefer cornbread, which from beginning to end takes about thirty minutes to make and bake.

When the soup is ready, when the cornbread is done, we settle into the evening with our steaming bowls of comfort. “Pretty darned good,” Clif pronounces, and he always goes back for seconds.

However, the last word of comfort must go to Sherlock because no creature knows comfort the way a cat does. Unless, of course, it’s a hobbit.

Food, People

Waffle Sunday and a Sweet Story

February 1, 2016 Laurie Graves 20 Comments

Yesterday, our friends Dawna and Jim and Beth and John came over for brunch, one of our favorite meals to host. Neither Clif nor I are morning people, so inviting people over for an early breakfast is not, ahem, our thing. But brunch can be started late morning, even noon, if you feel like it, and we love all the brunchy food—pancakes, waffles, home fries, egg dishes. We just don’t want to prepare them first thing.

Clif and I are not what you would call organized (unfortunately!) but when it comes to brunch, we have things under control. I started a day or two ahead by making a blueberry sauce and a chunky apple sauce. By Sunday, the potatoes for the home fries were cooked and cooled in a bowl in the refrigerator. (I’ve learned that cool potatoes make the best home fries.)

The day of the brunch, I put together the chili eggs, a baked dish with plenty of cheese and, of course, green chilis. I am also Captain Home Fries, and for this brunch I had three frying pans going—five pounds of potatoes—while the chili eggs baked. Truly, I felt like a maestro as I presided over the sizzling home fries.

Clif whipped up his delectable waffles, and we gathered around the dining room table as he made fresh hot waffles, one at time. He passed the plate around, and sections were taken. At first the dish came back empty, but as Clif continued making waffles, we could no longer keep up with waffle consumption, and the pile grew.

The cherry on the sundae was Beth’s blueberry cake, so moist, so light, so good. After a meal like that, stretching on for hours, Clif and I didn’t eat much of anything else for the rest of the day.

The talk around the table ranged from politics—the Iowa primaries are coming right up—to books, to movies, and, of course, to food. I mentioned that with Shannon and Mike moving to the South, one of the things I really missed were the simple celebrations—birthdays, anniversaries, Mother’s Day—that we shared. I told of the fish tacos we made for Shannon’s birthday last year and of the chocolate cupcakes with peppermint whipped cream that Shannon always made me for Mother’s Day.

Dawna said, “I know what you mean. We do the same thing in our family, but somehow Jim’s birthday is always the favorite with our granddaughters. They love to come over and help me make cupcakes for him and then frost them.”

Such a sweet story in so many ways—the love the granddaughters feel for their grandfather, the helping with the cupcakes, and the pleasure they take in celebrating Jim’s birthday. The granddaughters are young, and it says a lot that Jim’s birthday, rather than their own birthdays, is the favourite celebration.

I have no doubt that when those girls grow up, they will continue the tradition of food and merriment in celebration of birthdays and other special events.

Art, Food

Water, Water Everywhere: Jeffrey Becton at Bates and a Trip to Fuel Afterwards

January 28, 2016 Laurie Graves 18 Comments

Yesterday, Clif and I went to to the Museum of Art at Bates College. Of the three colleges, Colby, Bates, and Bowdoin—all of which have fine art museums—Bates’s is the smallest. Nevertheless, as The View Out His Window (and in his mind’s eye): Photographs by Jeffery Becton illustrates, small doesn’t mean second rate. Far from it. (If time allows, do clink on the link to take a look at some of the work in this terrific exhibit.)

The moment I walked into the gallery and saw the photographs, I got that particular feeling—a sort of current—that comes from seeing very good art. Becton’s photographs are large, and they feature surreal montages of old houses, old doors, peeling paint, still lifes, and decay. Water figures prominently in all the photographs as it comes into a room or laps at the edges or is just plain there. The palate is muted, almost soothing, yet there is also a certain sadness in most of the photos. If Andrew Wyeth had had a more vivid imagination, this is how he might have painted.

From one of the wall signs, I learned that “[t]o create the works…[Becton] photographed, painted, layered, fused and altered digital imagery from myriad sources and constructed the pictures…”

The woman at the desk told me that she’d like to step into one of the photographs. My response: “Only if there was a quick way out.” All that water coming into the rooms has a, well, unsettling effect.

Indeed, on the wall, is a quotation by Jeffrey Becton: “We love, need, and fear water and for good reason. I try to tease out the resonances and amplify them because life is difficult and unfair and the passing of time is mysterious.”

The exhibit runs until March 26, and Clif and I plan to go back for a second look. Bates College is only thirty minutes or so from where we live, and for us it is an easy trip. Readers, if you like art and live within driving distance, then I urge you to go see this exhibit. Admission is free, and on Monday and Wednesday the museum is open until 7:30.

After the exhibit, we went to one of our favorite restaurants, Fuel, which specializes in simple French cooking, “country French food with no attitude.” The food and flavors at Fuel have a subtlety missing from most restaurants in Maine, even the good ones. Fuel also makes delicious cocktails, which I cannot resist.

The restaurant has a comfortable bar, and we chose to sit there and order from the bar menu. (We have a gift certificate, and we decided it would go further at the bar.)

First I started with a cocktail, a cosmopolitan. As Clif was driving, he had a beer.

I had lobster pasta and cheese, a lovely blend of cheeses and lobster—I found three whole claws in my dish.

As we never eat beef at home, Clif ordered a burger and fries, a treat for him because he has it so infrequently.

Was there room for dessert? You bet there was. We ordered profiteroles—a fancy word for cream puffs—filled with vanilla ice cream and drizzled with chocolate sauce.

A sweet ending to a fine day.

Food

To the Farmers’ Market for Potatoes, Carrots, and Mocha Chaga

January 25, 2016 Laurie Graves 12 Comments

Last weekend, Maine escaped the wild storm that hit much of the Eastern Seaboard. The storm dropped freezing rain on North Carolina, where Shannon and Mike now live, and headed north to dump over a foot of snow in places such as New York City, where Dee lives. Then it went out to sea, leaving us unscathed.

Therefore, on Saturday, we went to Longfellow’s Greenhouses for the winter farmers’ market they host from January 9 to February 27, from 9:00 a.m. to 1 p.m. It is held in their “mall”, a long strip, covered like a green house, that connects the retail store to the actual greenhouses.

Our own Farmer Kev was there, and we stocked up on potatoes and carrots, two essential winter vegetables. (In the fall, I had already stocked up on his winter squash.)

We chatted with Farmer Kev for a bit, and we learned he has his very own farm now in West Gardiner. Quite an accomplishment for a young man who isn’t even thirty and who doesn’t come from a farming family, from whom he will inherit land.

When we were done talking to Farmer Kev, we wandered up and down the mall, looking at the various products. So many good things to sample and see, but we were especially taken with Zen Bear, which sells honey and honey tea. We talked with Frank Ferrel, formerly of Maine Public Broadcasting fame and currently one of the owners of Zen Bear. (He and his wife Lisa run the business.) He told us that the honey comes from Amish farmers in Aroostook County in Maine.

IMG_0570-1 — Frank Ferrel ready to make some honey tea

We sampled some of the teas—“a gently infused herb, spice, honey and tea mixture…” All were delicious, but the one I liked the best was the Mocha Chaga, made from cacao, honey, Maine sea salt, chaga, and lucuma. According to Zen Bear’s website, chaga “is a medicinal mushroom that grows on decaying birch trees.” According to Wikipedia, lucuma “is a subtropical fruit native to the Andean valleys of Chile, Ecuador, and Peru.”

Quite the exotic drink for central Maine in January, but the cherry on the sundae, so to speak, was when Ferrel told us about how chaga was extremely high in antioxidants. (He had some tested at the University of Maine.)

All right, so Mocha Chaga is exotic—for a Mainer—and high in antioxidants. But how does it taste? I am happy to report that it has the delicious taste of hot cocoa, albeit one that has unusual ingredients and is high in antioxidants. I bought a jar of Mocha Chaga and had a cup this morning for elevenses. It was very good indeed.

Potatoes and carrots, honey tea made from chaga and lucuma. You never know what you’ll find at a farmers’ market.

Notes From the Hinterland