Postcard From (Not) France: C'est La Vie

As I mentioned a couple weeks ago, there was the possibility that I may move to France. That's not gonna happen. So, like my literary soul mate Marianne Dashwood, I decided to deal with this heartbreak by gorging on France over the next few days just to show them/him/her/it/whatever that I deserve better, dammit!

I began by paying a visit to my favorite Parisian-style cafe: Le Petite France in West Hartford, CT. They have the best buttery, flakey croissants, chewy, airy baguettes, and eye-popping macaroons. The French-born owners have done a great job of bringing a little bit of Gallic flavor to the see-and-be-seen vibe of West Hartford Center.


During this visit I decided to try some of their savory filled croissants: Spinach & Cheese (pictured above) and Swiss. As you can see, there was plenty of filling to enjoy and though I may not have met any tortured artistes or ex-pats channeling Hemingway while there, I ended up taking a baguette home with me, which is probably better company anyway.

Postcard From Maine: Makin' Whoopie (Pies)

Isn't this the greatest picture you've ever seen???

In addition to the previously mentioned lobster rolls and ice cream, the great state of Maine is also known for their whoopie pies. It's not quite a cake, not quite a cookie, but man....they're good. My Aunt Maura, who headed north over twenty years ago and never looked back, told me that Chipman's in Windham, ME sold the best whoopie pies in the area made by the Bread and More Bakery out of McFalls, ME . Luckily, it also happened to be on the way back to CT, so naturally I stopped and picked one up.

My aunt also happens to be a great baker specializing in 'whoopie pies and cheesecakes', as she put it. I've yet to make a whoopie pie myself, but word on the internet is they're poised to become the next "It" dessert and will finally put cupcakes in their place. This makes sense though because whoopie pies are, in essence, a cupcake sandwich; and we all know how I feel about those....

Whoopie pies are also a fun cupcake alternative with just as much versitility. Red Velvet, Pumpkin, Peanut Butter, and Blueberry-Lemon are just a few of the twists my aunt has made. Here's a recipe for red velvet ones courtesy of Better Homes & Gardens, since that's the kind I would make if I had some free time right now. Instead, I'm too busy writing on this BLOG for YOU.

Postcard From Maine: Ice Cream Edition

One of the edible things I love about Maine is the plethora of in-state ice cream companies: Gifford's, Beal's, Shaine's--it's like no one gives a hoot about two old hippies from Vermont. Frozen custard is also a big deal here. Every other ice cream place seems to serve it. What makes frozen custard well, custard is a bit of egg added into the mixture. It's definitely not for everyone, as it has a distinct flavor and texture. I had some chocolate custard while driving back from the outlets in Freeport. I want to say it was gummy, which is a horrible word to use for something I actually enjoyed, but it definitely has a different consistency than hard ice cream or soft-serve. Taffy-esque? Eh. You get what I mean.

Anyways, in Portland, we indulged in a cherry flip hot fudge sundae from Beal's. The line was out the door even at 9:30, which is always a good sign. Beal's makes super-premium ice cream in all kinds of fun flavors (mmm grapenut). I also liked how they offer a "nut mixture" with their sundaes, not just boring old walnuts.


Then, while in Naples we had Shaine's of Maine. My brother's name is Shane which, when combined with a trip for ice cream, usually results in a bout of this. I had Maine Tracks, which is essentially giant crushed up peanut butter cups surrounded by some ice cream. Even the lady who scooped my cup was amazed: "There's a peanut butter cup in every scoop! It's incredible!" Now, when someone (especially a no-nonsense Mainer) refers to ice cream as incredible, you know you're in for something good. Shaine's of Maine does not disappoint, but cowboys named Shane--well, that's for another post.

Postcard from Maine: The Lobstah Roll Edition

Yeah, yeah, I haven't posted in a while. I was on vacation in Vacationland, also known as Maine, our most Northern state. (I think). Anyways, while I was there I partook in the many time-honored traditional Sullivan family vacation activities: I went to Freeport, home of L.L. Bean, visited Naples to play some pinball, tried desperately to find a Starbucks within 35 minutes of camp, and, of course, I ate a bunch of lobster rolls. You, dear reader, can now benefit from the knowledge and calories I have so selflessly acquired. Behold: The Three Best Lobster Rolls Ever (or, just the three best I had during this trip)...

The Lobster Shack at Two Lights Cape Elizabeth, ME.
Pros: Multi-year winner of "Best Lobster Roll in Portland",
fabulous view of ocean without the added cost.
Cons: Bit of a remote location, lack of indoor seating makes it
primarily a fair weather option.
Freedom Cafe & Public House, Naples, ME.
Pros: Generous portion of lobster and tasty spice combination,
buttery grilled roll, indoor and outdoor seating with nice view of Sebago Lake.
Cons: That piece of lettuce. Bleh.

Dry Dock Restaurant & Bar, Portland, ME
Pros: Nice atmosphere, indoor and porch seating,
good portion for the $$
Cons: Only offers cold lobster roll with lemon...

Now, this list is by no means exhaustive--money for lobster rolls doesn't grow on trees--but, if I had to pick a standout, I'd go with The Lobster Shack. The food is top-notch and you really can't beat the view....

Brazilian Cheese Balls

Today was the last day of my summer ESL class and, like the good teacher I am, we had a party. My Brazilian student brought in pao de queijo, or cheese balls, from a bakery in Allston. They. Were. Amazing--light, puffy, buttery, cheesy deliciousness.

"Yeah, the people at the bakery said the foreigners love these," she explained.

Yes, we Americans do love cheesy everything.

Apparently there is a mix sold that's supposed to be pretty good, but I found this recipe online that has step-by-step instructions. With pictures!

Postcard From A Dude

The following is an unsolicited message sent to me by an older gentleman friend (who asked to remain anonymous) during a business trip in California, making it kinda like a postcard! Granted, it's a bit of a stretch and doesn't really have anything to do with food or outings but it's my blog and I can post about whatever the hell I want. You'll read it (hopefully) and you'll like it, dammit! Anyways, he has listened to me whine about dudes a lot this summer and I thought this was rather insightful, if a bit crude. I also think he deserves props for putting together such a missive while accidentally combining alcohol and sleep medicine. Let this be a lesson, kids: If you drink in an airport bar before a flight, your shit will end up on the internet:

Subject: Boys, Girls. Men, Women.

It's all biology, Sully. You like him because he can provide for your babies. He likes your tits and nice ass because they can make and nourish said babies. Failure to realize your (and his) biological imperative will result in insanity. This is the truth. Try to nail someone down before 30. Settle a little bit (but not too much). Force him to commit. Then make a baby. Quick. Do not suffer fools. Ditch 'em. You're top shelf, Sully. Find each other and it'll be awesome. Please trust me. I've seen both sides of the equation and the spinster/bachelor side is a complete fuckology.

I guess I can take comfort in the knowledge that the next time a guy rejects me biology will drive him crazy. muh-ha-ha-ha. Ok, back to foodstuffs!

An Old Man Bar For The Old Man In You

One time I was out with a friend who suggested we head to the Fowler House for drinks. "Is it an old man bar?" I asked. Naturally, my friend was a bit puzzled and required a more detailed explanation. "You know, a place with leather seats and dark lighting? Like the library of some country manor?" He pondered this for a moment before answering that yes, he knew what I meant and no, the Fowler House was not that kind of old man bar. Fortunately, last night I checked out the Russell House Tavern in Cambridge and am happy to report that it met my old man bar standards, and then some. It opened a few months ago and is usually pretty packed, but this was the first time I had visited. In addition to two levels of dark lighting, lots of leather, and brass, they have an excellent cocktail menu. Normally I tend to keep things simple when it comes to alcohol, but the Jacobin Club caught my eye. It was a mix of St. Germain, Chartreuse, grapefruit juice, and Agnostura. Not too sweet, but not too bitter. My friend got the St. Germain cocktail, which was also excellent. Apparently I love Elderflower. All in all, I'd say it's a fine place to take a lady, an old man, or a mix of both. What?