Avoiding Overpriced Lobster Pounds and Other Tourist Trap Eateries

I may not be a full-fledged foodie, but I may only be one more season of "Top Chef" and a subscription to Bon Appetit away. As such there is nothing I find more abhorrent about traveling than eating bad food because you don't know where to get the good stuff, or are marooned in a heavily toursited area like Fisherman's Wharf, Times Square, or the coast of Maine in peak season.

Of course it always helps to be travelling with locals. I am working towards my "local" status in Maine, so I want to share an insiders tip in case you find yourself on Mount Desert Island with a hankering for lobster. Avoid Testa's and Chowdah's and, if you have the time, drive an unbelievably scenic route to the other side of the island, "the quiet side," and eat at Thurston's in Bernard. It's right on the water, so while you dine on fresh lobster, mussels, and other fine creatures, you will be able to look out at the very boats and traps that brought these fruits of the sea to your plate. 

It's order at the counter, watch them pick and weigh your mollusks and crustaceans and hand them off to the chef while you sip your beverages (beer and wine served), find a place to sit, and wait for your name to be called.
I've been twice, and though there were definitely some tourists there, they weren't of the gigantic-family-wearing-matching-Bar-Harbor-sweat-shirts kind.

You should definitely go if you get a chance, but do me a favor and don't tell too many people...

A Must Read

I cried several times when reading the article "Letting Go" by Atul Gawande, in the August 2nd issue of The New Yorker. It's about modern medicine and the art of dying, or rather, how inadequate modern medicine is at preparing people for death. A must read for anyone who feels that meditating on the end of things is a powerful way to live, or anyone who's life has been touched by a terminal illness. It made me want to be a Hospice nurse, or go find some Hospice nurses, look them in the eye, and shake their hands. 


You can read the article online here. It's pretty long, but life is short, and if you read the article, it'll make sense why you should take the time to think about it. 


I didn't want to be a downer and post the link on Facebook, but then I walked by this storefront on the way back to my office at lunch, so I took it as a sign that I should share it somewhere.


Frivolous side note: neon pink masking tape is awesome. Must get my hands on some.

Root Down

Aunt Rose's Philodendron.
click for full size.

Popovers, A Side-by-side Analysis

I've given you the background on my popover obsession, now I give you my first hand account of the best popovers in all the land from Jordan Pond House. First let me set the scene. This is where the popovers are eaten in open air:

They wouldn't even have to taste good, since you're captive at the only eatery in a national park, but they do.


In fact, they are gigantic, cloud-like, delicate, and hot. I heard a woman a few tables away ask the waitress for popovers to go. The waitress politely explained that it is just not done, since there is only a 15 minute window in which they will allow popovers to be served and eaten, once out of the oven. 

In contrast, check out the popovers I made earlier in the week with the Jordan Pond mix. More like Smurf hats than clouds, wouldn't you agree?

The real magic of the Jordan Pond House popovers are on the inside. They are uniformly airy, while mine were uniformly denser.

I'm not quite sure what's making the difference, besides decades of practice on behalf of the restaurant cooks. I followed their directions to leave the batter in the fridge overnight, taking it out before baking to bring to room temperature. I didn't separate the eggs this time, though I did when I made them for scratch for my mom's birthday, with no visible difference. I think maybe my more cylindrical, non-stick popover pans have something to do with the difference of size and shape. 


It demands more research, and more trips to Jordan Pond House, for the best popovers, strawberry jam, and unsweetened raspberry lemonade in the world. 

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

We drove about as far northeast as humanly possible in one day and arrived at our destination. We had glorious weather for a week. We forgot about our regular life. We didn't worry about how much time we had left. We were both lazy and industrious. 


We were view junkies. 

We ran, we hiked, we biked, we baked, we canoed, we climbed, we ate and ate and ate.

All in great company. It's really a shame for the rest of the world that the best B&B in Maine doesn't take reservations. You have to know somebody, and man am I sure glad that I do. 

From the top: Hiking up Giant Slide on the way to the top of Sargent, Acadia Nat'l Park; Mr. & Mrs. SevPrez admire the views at Great Head, Acadia Nat'l Park; Lobster Rolls three ways at Cafe This Way, Bar Harbor; Chez Frick, Orono.