Food tourism, &c
Jul. 8th, 2002 01:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quislibetWednesday night J. and I drove up to her parents' place in NH. The first thing we had to do, as her parents were away, was to pick snowpeas. It is clear that J.'s father is keeping busy in his retirement, as the garden has never looked better. On the other hand, there's enough stuff planted to run a small farmstand. And yet (a) J.'s parents do not, in fact, run a farmstand and (b) they travel a lot, and aren't always on hand to eat the produce themselves. And so to avoid waste J. and I picked two plastic shopping bags full of snowpeas, many already too large and tough, and like all legendary produce fiercely guarded, in this case by mosquitoes and blackflies. We spent the rest of the night processing many of the peas for freezing even as we ourselves wilted in the heat. For dinner we ate snowpeas.
Thursday morning we picked the rest of the snowpeas left behind when insect guardians and failing light forced us inside, for a third bulging bag. (I said, "bulging bag.") And then we loaded up camping gear from the garage and drove across NH to Maine.
Breakfast had been purposefully light -- a slice of toast each -- so that we could leave room for a tasty treat at German John's bakery in Hillsboro, NH, which not only makes fine breads and pastries but also is decorated with pretzel-dough bats and spiders (and, admittedly, other animals). More or less across the street was a store we had not noticed before called The Sausage Source, which naturally warranted a visit. We purchased natural sausage casings and so now have the technology to make our own sausage at some point. Fear us.
We made our way into Maine, stopping here and there as it occurred to us to do so, splitting small samples of local delicacies like potato candy or whoopie pies. We took back roads and coastal routes, and happened upon the kitchy wonder of Old Orchard Beach, Kennebunkport's working-class neighbor. While the crowded conditions there made parking impossible and so we did not stop, the drive past the amusement park by the beach and the countless motels and rental cottages was entertaining enough.
Shortly afterwards, we returned to route 1 through Scarborough and stopped to see a life-sized chocolate moose (and buy some taffy). Ultimately we ended up at Bradbury Mountain State Park in Pownal, not far from Freeport, exchanged the campsite we had reserved on the basis of the map for one that was, in fact, much nicer, and set up camp. We ate some snowpeas.
While we could have gone up on the mountain to see the fireworks of three cities, including Portland, we decided that after a drive through grueling heat it was more pleasant to sit in the camp, play a low-key game of Scrabble, and get eaten by mosquitoes.
Speaking of eating, I'm going to have my lunch now. More later.
Thursday morning we picked the rest of the snowpeas left behind when insect guardians and failing light forced us inside, for a third bulging bag. (I said, "bulging bag.") And then we loaded up camping gear from the garage and drove across NH to Maine.
Breakfast had been purposefully light -- a slice of toast each -- so that we could leave room for a tasty treat at German John's bakery in Hillsboro, NH, which not only makes fine breads and pastries but also is decorated with pretzel-dough bats and spiders (and, admittedly, other animals). More or less across the street was a store we had not noticed before called The Sausage Source, which naturally warranted a visit. We purchased natural sausage casings and so now have the technology to make our own sausage at some point. Fear us.
We made our way into Maine, stopping here and there as it occurred to us to do so, splitting small samples of local delicacies like potato candy or whoopie pies. We took back roads and coastal routes, and happened upon the kitchy wonder of Old Orchard Beach, Kennebunkport's working-class neighbor. While the crowded conditions there made parking impossible and so we did not stop, the drive past the amusement park by the beach and the countless motels and rental cottages was entertaining enough.
Shortly afterwards, we returned to route 1 through Scarborough and stopped to see a life-sized chocolate moose (and buy some taffy). Ultimately we ended up at Bradbury Mountain State Park in Pownal, not far from Freeport, exchanged the campsite we had reserved on the basis of the map for one that was, in fact, much nicer, and set up camp. We ate some snowpeas.
While we could have gone up on the mountain to see the fireworks of three cities, including Portland, we decided that after a drive through grueling heat it was more pleasant to sit in the camp, play a low-key game of Scrabble, and get eaten by mosquitoes.
Speaking of eating, I'm going to have my lunch now. More later.
