Scallops with Israeli Couscous and Kale

I sauteed finely chopped kale and onion with onions and garlic, and combined it with simmered Israeli couscous, using the Kitchn's method for cooking this pasta-cum-grain with leafy greens. Then Jesse sauteed scallops in olive oil and herbs de Provence to top it off. Here's what he had to say about it to his friend who gave us the herbs a few months ago:

I used the last of the herbs de Provence you gave me to make seared
scallops with Israeli cous cous and kale and may I humbly say that it
was the closest thing to culinary perfection that I have ever
experienced - in the words of Dr. Seuss "If you never have you
should. These things are fun and fun is good."

Rhode Island Style Calamari

I'm a big fan of fried calamari, and almost always order it when I see it on a menu. On our way back from Maine this summer, Jesse and I stopped in at Portsmouth Brewery for dinner and drinks on a very rainy night. We blindly ordered "Rhode Island style calamari" from their menu, not realizing what that meant until it arrived, fried calamari mixed in with hot peppers - so hot, in fact, that we struggled to finish the dish.

Recently, when I tasted my second batch of pickled peppers this weekend (and whoo boy are they hotter than the first batch - throwing in a couple jalapenos really worked) it immediately called to mind a chance to make Rhode Island style calamari at home. I've been jonesing to make fried calamari for ages, and I figured I would go milder with the spicy peppers by throwing in just in enough for some kick.

This was also my first attempt at deep frying, and I now don't know what I was always so scared of. It takes a lot of oil, but other than that, it's no problem. I heated two inches of olive oil in a big pot over medium heat, and I don't have a cooking thermometer, so I just winged it and figured that the oil was probably hot enough after five minutes or so.

Meanwhile, I removed the squid (pre-cleaned, from the farmers market of course) from from its soak in a bowl of milk, salt, and pepper, drained it, and dredged it in a mixture of half flour-half cornmeal and more salt and pepper. Into the pot they went, about five at a time for about 2 minutes at a time, and then I removed them with a slotted spatula and let them drain on paper towels. Use a LOT of paper towels - the massive oil coming off the calamari soaked right through my paper towels. To finish it off, I warmed up a heaping half cup of tomato sauce with the pickled peppers, and tossed it all together.

As you can also see, the calamari looks rather long and tubular. I stupidly forgot to slice the squid into little rings before dredging and frying them. Don't make that mistake - you'll get more crunchy fried surface area and a more tender bite if you cook them in small pieces. For some reason, a lot of the flour-cornmeal mixture fell off in the cooking process, so it didn't have that restaurant-quality all-around crunchy coating, but it was good enough for us. The peppers, on the other hand, got pushed to the side for being too hot again. Next time I'll leave out the peppers and make a fun mayo dipping sauce.

The Perfect Summer Day

Boyfriend makes me blueberry pancakes for breakfast (made with local buckwheat flour, honey, milk, eggs, fresh blueberries, and maple syrup). Early afternoon out on Brighton Beach with friends on the clearest summer day. Lying in the hot sun, gaining a tan, till the heat drives me to stand ankle deep in cold waves.


Back home, some cooking, some cleaning, some preparing for a romantic dinner. A short run around McCarren Park. I haven't been exercising much lately, but these short runs remind me of my past, the dirt path under trees reminiscent of summer runs during college, although those Vassar trees were much older, more powerful, more beautiful, than these few trees trailing around a people-populated park. Finishing my run on the track, the smell of that red rubber reminds me of high school. Seemingly half my high school life was spent on the track, stretching, pep talks, running, sweating, giggling, ogling hot bare-chested teenage boys, running up and down grassy hills, and out onto those sun-dappled country roads before returning back to the track. This track is instead filled with die-hard soccer players, amateur runners, families enjoying their weekend, and lounging hipsters.


Finally, dinner in the waning light on the deck with my loved one: grilled hake (a white fish), marinated cucumber and radish salad, and potato salad. Divine. All made with local ingredients, except for the vinegar, mayo, mustard, and spices. And to drink, mojitos made with mint grown on the deck. No mojito recipe because mine could use some tweaking. I followed a recipe for two glasses, and ended up with four strong mojitos that we couldn't possibly finish on this Sunday night.


Marinated Cucumber and Radish Salad
1/2 large cucumber
2 radishes
1/2 small onion
1 1/2 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp vinegar
1/2 tsp salt
few grinds of black pepper
3 sprigs fresh mint, torn into small pieces (and/or other fresh herbs such as parsley)

Thinly slice cucumber, radish, and onion. In a bowl, combine olive oil, vinegar, salt, pepper, and fresh herbs. Add cucumber, radish, and onion, and toss to coat. Let marinate in fridge for at least 15 minutes, or longer. Serves 3 as a side dish.


Potato Salad
4 medium new potatoes
1/2 small red onion
2 celery stalks
2 tbsp mayonnaise
1 1/2 tbsp vinegar
2 tsp mustard
1 tsp salt
five grinds of black pepper
1/4 tsp crushed red pepper

Chop potatoes into 1 inch pieces. Place potatoes in a pot of salted water, bring to a boil, and then let simmer 10-20 minutes until fork tender. Meanwhile, dice onion and celery, and combine with remaining ingredients in a large bowl. When potatoes are tender, drain and add to bowl, tossing to coat. Can make ahead and keep in fridge until serving. Serves 3 as a side dish.

Maine Part V: Drinking in Bar Harbor

Here are some places in Bar Harbor (the main town on Mount Desert Island) that we enjoyed for outdoor drinks in the afternoon during our vacation:

[And by the way - how awesome was it that we only had two (!) meals inside the whole week - thanks to the beautiful weather and our choice of restaurants, we were mostly able to feast and drink en plein air with our doggy by our side.]

Bar Harbor Blueberry beer with lunch at Rupununi, a sustainably-minded restaurant along Main Street in Bar Harbor.

Amazing crab roll and fries at Rupununi - all crab meat, and local too! Jesse's burger at Rupununi, all-natural ground beef from from Northeast family farms An afternoon drink at Lompoc Cafe & BrewPub, which serves several locally brewed ales from Atlantic Brewing Company on tap.

Lompoc has a bocce court and hosts concerts on weekend nights that seem to run in indie rein, so I'm guessing this is where the young indie crowd hangs out at night. We didn't get a chance to experience Bar Harbor's nightlife while camping, but we were just lucky enough to enjoy a relaxing afternoon drink in Lompoc's quiet garden.

Another day, another afternoon drink, this time at Jack Russell's Steakhouse & Brewery just north of Bar Harbor on Route 3. We tried a sampler of their house-brewed beers, and liked their "Gold" beer best for its mild flavor. Jesse was hungry, so he ordered the salad, composed entirely of the lettuces and herbs growing around us.

And so, after all that relaxing in the beauty of nature and savoring the bounty of Maine seas and breweries, the return to reality - sticky sweaty New York City with its workweeks - was harsh but now complete. What I've been eating since I returned is forthcoming.

Other posts in the Maine vacation saga:

IV. Lobster Pounds on Mount Desert Island

III. Cooking Locally at the Campsite

II. Camping in Acadia National Park

I. A Night on the Town in Portland

Maine Part IV: Lobster Pounds on Mount Desert Island

As much as we enjoyed cooking fresh fish and vegetables at our campsite, we also enjoyed more than a few meals and drinks out and about. In addition to our lobster dinner at Gilbert's in Portland, we had lobster three more times while on Mount Desert Island (Jesse was a bit obsessed). Maine abounds with lobster pounds, which are casual affairs that have limited menus along the lines of: lobster of varying sizes, lobster rolls served with chips, crab rolls, steamed clams, mussels, chowder or soup, corn on the cob, blueberry pies and cakes for dessert, and depending on the place, a few other options.

Generally, you put in your order, they pull your live lobster out of the water, and then you head to picnic style tables to wait while your lobster is cooked to order. Food is served unpretentiously on trays with paper plates and beer is poured into plastic cups (I felt guilty, but tried to overlook these environmentally un-friendly ways, because when in Maine...) Decor often unintentionally includes lobster traps, which I took as a sign that they are always bringing in fresh-caught lobster.


Our first night, we headed to Thurston's Lobster Pound in Bernard, on an out-of-the-way southwestern tip of the island. It boasts a screened-in porch right on the water with postcard-perfect views.

Jesse ordered a lobster and corn on the cob, while I had a hankering for a lobster roll. I thought the roll, which was served on a plain hotdog bun with a little lettuce, was decent, but nothing special. It also took me about five seconds to eat, compared to Jesse's efforts to dig into his lobster. So it felt like a lesser lobster experience in comparison. I tried a bit of Jesse's lobster, and that too was good, though not as sweet as Gilbert's lobster, probably because hard shell tends to be less sweet than soft shell. And because nothing can top your first experience!
A couple nights later we had a lobster craving again, and this time headed to Captain Beal's Lobster Pier in Southwest Harbor, also on the western side of Mount Desert Island. This place similarly features picnic tables right on the water, which was beautiful at sunset. Their menu has a wider selection than other lobster pounds, as it also includes fried foods and more seafood options. Here we both feasted on lobster, along with delicious steamed clams and corn on the cob. Steamers, or steamed clams, are not to be missed in Maine, where they are incredibly fresh and tasty.Our final lobster (*tear*) of the trip was lunch at Trenton Bridge Lobster Pound on our drive home. It's technically not on Mount Desert Island, since it's just past the bridge once you reach the mainland, in the town of Trenton, but close enough. This place had been recommended to us, and it was indeed packed at lunchtime, but I was still a bit wary that it was nothing more than a tourist trap, after reading Blake's review, in which his lobster was overcooked into rubbery oblivion.They have big wood-fired lobster bake ovens right out in front, and you can watch them haul lobsters in and out of the ovens in mesh bags. Luckily, Jesse's lobster turned out fine - it was just as good as all of the other lobster we'd eaten in Maine. So hopefully Blake's experience was just a fluke. I wasn't as satisfied, however. I wanted to try one more lobster roll, but this one was disappointing, mostly because it was served on plain disgusting slices of white bread that weren't buttered or toasted or anything, and I have never been a fan of white bread. I asked if they could toast it, but they said they didn't have the capability for that (this is a very no-frills place that doesn't even serve beer). And by this point, I was sick of eating unhealthy Lay's potato chips alongside my food. Blegh.

Interestingly, I have yet to experience the perfect lobster meat to bread ratio in a lobster roll. I've had the lobster roll at Mary's Fish Camp in New York City, which was similar to Thurston's in that the meat falls out of the hot dog bun because it doesn't all fit. In comparison, the Trenton lobster sandwich didn't have enough meat to fill out all the bread. I would rather be able to get a bit of bun and meat in each bite. I'm still in search of the perfect lobster roll, which I think I will only be able to find by preparing it for myself sometime this summer. I think this is my dream lobster roll: a buttered toasted brioche hamburger-size bun, plenty of just-cooked still-warm lobster meat, and the slightest touch of mayonnaise, lemon juice, celery, and herbs.

To be continued...

Other posts in the Maine vacation saga:
V. Drinking in Bar Harbor
III. Cooking Locally at the Campsite
II. Camping in Acadia National Park
I. A Night on the Town in Portland

Maine Part III: Cooking Locally at the Campsite

I was disappointed to learn that I would miss both the Portland and Bar Harbor Farmers Markets by just a few hours each due to our traveling schedule. To compensate, I packed food from the Union Square Greenmarket that I thought could stand the trip - butter, honey, maple syrup, potatoes, onions, zucchini, and eggs. I was also buoyed by the fact that restaurants in Maine make an effort to serve locally produced food - more on that later. And I figured there would be plenty of farm stands to provide fresh veggies during our week-long stay.

Since we ended up going out to eat more than I expected, we only needed to pick up groceries a couple times. One of those times was a trek to the western side of the island to Beech Hill Farm, an organic farm run by College of the Atlantic in Bar Harbor. Their farm stand offers produce from Beech Hill, along with produce, meat, dairy, etc from other local farms. We picked up dried blueberries (which went into pancakes), milk (into coffee and pancakes), bacon (an impulse buy from Jesse that I eventually appreciated because it helped a morning hangover and was cooked with scallops below), and swiss chard (cooked with tacos and scallops below).We got a terrific recommendation from our server at a bar to go to Parson's (64 Eagle Lake Rd/Rt 233 near Bar Harbor) for fresh fish to cook. It's a total mom and pop operation where the fish comes in fresh everyday (though you never know exactly when and what she'll have in stock!) She said everything is caught locally in Maine, which made me happy.

At our first visit to Parson's, we picked up haddock and clams. Jesse does most of the cooking when we go camping because he knows how to light the camping stove and I don't - ha! I sliced zucchini (from NY farmers market), sprinkled it with olive oil, salt, and pepper, and put it over the fire in an aluminum pouch. It took a while, but it did actually work, unlike our previous foible with potatoes. Meanwhile, Jesse cooked quinoa over the stove, steamed clams in a Bar Harbor ale, and finally sauteed the haddock with olive oil, salt, and pepper. The end result was a huge heaping meal. I yelled at Jesse for getting too much fish (a pound and a half for two people!), but the leftovers went into fantastic tacos with tortillas, beans, salsa, and local swiss chard the next night.
After getting bacon from Beech Hill, Jesse became possessed with the idea of making bacon-wrapped scallops. We visited Parson's the next day, but they were already out of scallops. Back we went the next morning with a mission on our mind. This time, the scallop guy hadn't yet made his delivery. We went again to Parson's that afternoon, and still no scallops. Finally, an hour later after some beers in nearby Bar Harbor, we were rewarded with scallops!

Following Liz's advice, this time I threw an aluminum pouch of chopped potatoes (coated with olive oil, salt, and pepper of course) right into the fire. A few of them burned, but the rest cooked right into tender bites before the rest of our dinner was done. Amazing!

Meanwhile, I cooked just one strip of bacon in a pot, then tore it up and threw it back in the pan with swiss chard and onions in the same pan to soak up all the bacon flavor. Jesse painstakingly wrapped the scallops in the rest of the bacon and sauteed them until browned and firm. It was another delicious and overwhelmingly huge meal, with all those bacon and scallops. The leftovers went into tacos again with more smooshed beans, onions, and hot sauce (out of salsa at that point) for a surprisingly delicious breakfast. We made more intricate meals than we have on past camping trips, as our priorities change, and it made us happy to eat like kings, as Jesse put it.

To be continued...

Other posts in the Maine vacation saga:

V. Drinking in Bar Harbor
IV. Lobster Pounds on Mount Desert Island

II. Camping in Acadia National Park

I. A Night on the Town in Portland

Maine Part I: A Night on the Town in Portland

Our weeklong camping vacation in Maine began with a stopover in Portland on the way to Acadia National Park, not wanting to drive the full nine hours from New York City in one day. So we shelled out for a hotel in Portland - amazingly just one night in a "cheap" hotel like Days Inn costs more than the fee for six nights of camping! What a rip off. Just so you can have hotel amenities we never even use, like a pool and a disgusting complimentary breakfast and dressers and an ironing board, etc. I don't get hotels. Anyway...back to Portland...


After reading Blake's gushing accounts of meals at Fore Street in Portland, I had my heart set on dinner there - not only are they committed to cooking up the freshest food produced locally in Maine but they have a reputation as one of the finest restaurants in the country. But when I called to make a reservation more than two weeks before the trip, the earliest they had left for the night was 9:30! I couldn't believe it. I decided instead to aim to get there early and wait a bit, since they hold several tables for walk-ins.

However, life had other plans. Because of Jesse's exhausting workweek that didn't really end until 1am the night before we were due to leave, we ended up jetting out of Brooklyn later than expected. And by the time we got to Portland, I didn't feel in the mood to wait around for a multicourse fancy dinner. We just wanted to relax. So instead we decided to casually explore Portland.

We started off with a relaxing drink in the backyard of The Great Lost Bear, one of the top beer bars of the country. They have sixty beers on tap, featuring beer from fifteen Maine microbreweries along with other Northeast craft beers. The great thing about Maine is that it is a haven for local beer enthusiasts. Every restaurant and bar we went on our trip served Maine-brewed beers on tap, making it easy (and delicious) to drink locally in Maine. During our trip, we sampled beers such as Geary's Special Hampshire Ale (Jesse's favorite), Allagash White, Atlantic Bar Harbor Real Ale, Bar Harbor Thunder Hole Ale, and so on. Great Lost Bear was a great place to kick off our trip. They also serve food, but their focus is on burgers and burritos and bar food, so we headed elsewhere for dinner because we wanted LOBSTER!

On the recommendation of our nice server at Great Lost Bear, we headed to downtown Portland along the water to Gilbert's Chowder House. Chowder may be in the name, but I had the best lobster of my life there. We were able to get two lobsters and corn for just $30, something unheard of in New York City. This Maine-caught lobster was new shell, also known as soft-shell - apparently at this time in the season, you can either get hard-shell lobsters, which are meatier, or soft-shell creatures, which are sweeter and more succulent, and easier to eat because you can break the shells with your hands, but they contain less meat. The lobster meat was so fresh, moist and rich that I hardly touched the accompanying melted butter. Sweet corn was the perfect side dish. Coincidentally, we got to sit on Gilbert's deck and watch the sun go down over the water while overhearing a Moe concert at a nearby venue.

Afterward, we wanted to keep exploring, so we headed to a joint also on the water that we'd passed earlier, J's Oyster Bar. It's a dark old-fashioned looking place with small tables arranged around a large central bar, with oysters on ice waiting in the middle for lucky patrons. They also have outdoor seating, but that was full, so we were inside. We simply ordered beers and a dozen oysters. Jesse and I both agreed that while the oysters were good, they weren't as good as oysters we've had in the past. I assume because these oysters were caught somewhere nearby in Maine. Whereas restaurants like Marlow & Sons in Brooklyn choose their oysters more selectively for the best taste they can find. That's my guess.

We also went to Gritty McDuff's , another brewpub that was hopping on this Saturday night. Hanging over the bar are numbered mugs for regulars to drink out of, which I think is a fun idea (and a green one if those regulars use that mug all night) that I would definitely steal if I ever own a bar. We each tried their house cask beers. But at that point in the night, I don't remember much, except how confusing it was to find our way back to the hotel.

Other posts in the Maine vacation saga:

V. Drinking in Bar Harbor
IV. Lobster Pounds on Mount Desert Island

III. Cooking Locally at the Campsite

II. Camping in Acadia National Park

Kitchen Disasters

That was a beautiful and delicious pizza I made last week with local flour, turkey sausage and radish greens, and nonlocal tomato sauce and parmesan. Yes, you can eat the greens that come with a bunch of radishes. I wash them thoroughly, sautee them, and they wilt down a lot. They're a little bitter, but add a nice complexity to pizza.

I loved the pizza so much that I tried to make it again this week, but with the sick humidity crushing us this week, I decided to try my hand at making grilled pizza. I'm not sure exactly what went wrong, but I tried twice with two pizzas, and both times the edges of the dough grew colored and crispy, almost burnt, while the gummy inner dough refused to cook through, no matter how long I let them linger on the hot grill or in the toaster oven afterward. They looked tasty like they wanted me to eat them, but I couldn't. I salvaged the sausage and radish greens by scraping them off and throwing together with quick-cooking orzo for a meal, while the pizza remains above sadly went into the garbage.

I have three theories - I should have used a dough that reliably produces a thin crust since my recipe usually puffs up a bunch; I shouldn't have topped it with so much sauce and sausage; I should have let the first side cook longer before I flipped it over. We'll see. For now, it's back to my tried and true method for making pizza in the oven, despite the heat.

This meal that we made for dinner last night looks great, but it wasn't actually, because it was pervaded by bitterness. I was so excited about being able to eat radish leaves, that I decided to give carrot tops a try. The bunch that came with my carrots from the Greenmarket looked so pretty and frilly that it seemed a shame to just throw them away.

I made a salad of lolo rosso lettuce, grated carrots, and a garnish of chopped carrot tops, with a roasted garlic dressing. The dressing was a gift from Jesse's mom and was pleasant. But the lettuce was overwhelmingly bitter, and the carrot greens didn't help, being chewy and bitter and not fun to eat. I couldn't even finish my salad. I guess there's a reason why people always throw out carrot tops.

Knowing how much Jesse loves Sixpoint beer, which is brewed in nearby Red Hook Brooklyn, Jesse's mom also surprised us with this terrific growler of Sixpoint Gorilla Warfare, a rich stout. I decided we should use it to cook the mussels. We sauteed garlic scapes and another handful of carrot greens in olive oil, then added mussels and half a pint of beer, and let it cook, covered, until the mussels opened.

I had been craving mussels all week, but it was a bit disappointing. The garlic scapes weren't potent enough to lend the dish a garlicky aroma like I hoped, the wilted carrot greens weren't much to taste, and the stout gave the mussels a slightly bitter taste. I should have known that a mild lager or white wine works better for mussels. It wasn't a total disaster, like the failed grilled pizza, but it wasn't the rich warm broth of mussels that I had hoped for.

But that's how it goes with cooking. You experiment, and you learn from your mistakes. And post them on the Internet for others to learn from as well.

Inspiration

Like its sister and nextdoor restaurant, Diner, Marlow & Sons is one of my favorite restaurants for its fine selection of oysters, cheeses, and local ingredients cooked in seasonal meals with flawless execution. I forgot to tell you, but when I was there with my youngest sister on a rainy late night in April, we shared a divine ramp soup and their crispy-skinned brick pressed chicken, which is among the best chicken I've ever head. I hadn't been in a while, but it reminded me that Marlow & Sons surprises me everytime by taking simple sounding dishes and making them the most delicious things ever.


A couple weeks ago on a supremely hot early evening, we coincidentally took my other sister to Marlow & Sons too. We shared a baby kale salad with a simple dressing of olive oil and lemon juice and coated in thinly shaved parmesan. Meanwhile, Jesse had to himself a warm squid salad with a broth-like dressing over Bibb lettuce. Our meal was exquisite as always. However, this time I felt a bit more depressed than usual about their prices. I understand the worth of paying more money to eat local foods made wth care, but $10 for a salad of greens and parmesan?


Let's take it back to earlier this spring, when I planted a container of mixed green seeds on my deck. Most of what came up was baby kale, bitter greens, and sad small light leaves, and after a winter full of bitter green salads from the farmers market, it didn't look too appetizing. When the lettuces started to wilt in last week's 90 degree heat, I decided it was time to rip 'em out, eat 'em, and replace 'em with more fun herbs.


I harvested about a big salad worth of greens. Then one night when Jesse was working late and I could eat however simply I liked, I wanted to have a plain salad for dinner and set out to imitate Marlow & Sons baby kale salad. I mixed a vinaigrette of extra virgin olive oil, red wine vinegar, dried herbs, and a couple splashes of lemon juice. Then I topped it off with grated parmesan. Ta da! Though mine may not have had the same soft brush of kale leaves, it was delicious and at a cost of essentially $0 vs $10, I say Marlow & Sons 0 Julia 1.


Likewise, Jesse's scrumptious squid salad at Marlow & Sons motivated us to pick up some squid from the Greenmarket this weekend. I've always been confused about how long to cook squid so I did some research. Apparently when sauteeing squid, you either need to cook it for under two minutes (after that it turns rubbery) or for more than 20 minutes (when the squid becomes tender again). Jesse chose to go with the long cooking version as he's done in the past. He sauteed it with olive oil and garlic, added a few splashes of vermouth and water, covered it, and let it cook for about 30 minutes until tender. The aroma that filled our apartment as the squid braised was salty and wonderful.


As for the salad we served it over, I didn't replicate Marlow & Sons' bibb lettuce saald exactly, but just used what I had on hand. Romaine lettuce, thinly sliced radishes and baby carrots (first of the season!), warm sauteed squid, that same olive oil-red wine vinaigrette, and parmesan. Surprisingly, it worked. I think you could refine it further by serving it over greens that have more structure and flavor, like mustard greens, and leaving out the carrots and parmesan. But for our purposes we enjoyed digging into a big healthy salad with perfectly tender small bites of squid, tasting of the sea.


Inspired by Jen from her ever-inspirational blog Last Night's Dinner, we also grilled clams and topped them with a garlic scape pesto. The pesto was made simply in the food processor using a few garlic scapes, a handful of parsley from my deck, the zest and juice of half a lemon, salt, pepper, parmesan, a handful of almonds, a few tablespoons of olive oil, and a tablespoon of water. It was lovely, but I think I prefer eating clams by their lonesome to enjoy their distinctive taste.

Playing Catch Up

Did you know that just a 75 minute drive from New York City lies a serene state park where hiking trails abound and a blue lake awaits you? It's called Clarence Fahnestock State Park and I had passed it many times on so many drives up and down the Taconic during college, but had never ventured inward until this Memorial Day weekend.


With our beach plans thwarted, Jesse and I wanted some other naturesque escape from the city's grey blocks. Guessing that Bear Mountain would be crowded with similar-minded Memorial weekend escapees, we decided on Fahnestock park, which is much less known, left at 2pm, and found ourselves there after what felt like a short drive later. Even better, entrance was free! The park covers a larger area than I had imagined, filled with hiking trails, and smoky campsites, and a clear blue lake perfect for exploration via canoes and rowboats. It also supposedly boasts a beautiful white sand beach, but that did cost money, so we didn't get to see it.


After a couple hours traversing a short pass over the Appalachian trail we simply headed back home and were back in Brooklyn for dinnertime. It seemed almost too easy of a getaway. But those simple hours in the woods restored our hearts and minds and prepared us for the remainder of the alcohol hazed weekend.


On the way home we stopped at Fairway to pick up soft shell crabs. I'd been wanting to try them for so long, since Jesse had extolled their virtues as a seasonal delicacy. He grilled them to perfection according to Jen's directions on Last Night's Dinner, along with grilled asparagus. Meanwhile, I prepared a lemon thyme vinaigrette for a simple salad with fresh lettuce. We usually put together balsamic vinaigrette for our salads, so I wanted to try something new. It wasn't quite right - the flavor of the olive oil was too prominent. But it was a nice change of pace, and certainly heading in the right direction for bright summery salads.


As for the soft shell crabs, I wasn't the biggest fan. The texture of the shell wasn't as crispy as I expected and was just a little too tough. I found myself hankering for the pure unadulterated crab meat inside, but couldn't get a bite without the exoskeleton. I have hope though that maybe it's a taste that will grow on me - after all, Jesse wasn't such a fan the first time he tried soft shell crabs, but he oohed and aahed over his creation this time.


As for the rest of our long weekend, it involved an easy bike ride down to our favorite spot in Prospect Park, at the bottom of the lake, where we had beer and sandwiches from Bierkraft nestled against a tree with the wide blue lake before us;


pitchers of margaritas out in the sun on Flatbush Avenue; many more bars; and burgers delivered to our rooftop gathering because it was too much to ask everyone to coordinate a potluck barbecue when all we wanted to do was go on drinking and relaxing some more in the sun and the night. And now back to the workweek.



Lemon Thyme Vinaigrette
1/4 cup olive oil
2 tbsp lemon juice
1/2 tsp dried thyme, or 1 tsp fresh thyme (I used dried because my thyme plant isn't looking quite big enough yet)
2 stalks spring garlic, minced
1/2 tsp mustard
salt
pepper

Whisk ingredients together and adjust to taste. Serve over fresh lettuces for a delightful salad.