Category: Food & Drinks

Today, for the first time in my entire life, I ordered a bowl of French onion soup for myself.  Never, in my 25 years of existence have I ordered this soup for myself, bought this soup for myself, chosen to eat this soup.

What the heck was I always thinking?

Today is a rainy, cold day.  It’s been raining and overcast for days in Boston, but for some reason the building management doesn’t quite get it.  So the AC is still on.  And we’re all cold.

Lunch time rolled around and what was in the cafeteria screaming my name?

French onion soup. Warm, delicious, cheesy, French onion soup.

Remember earlier how I mentioned that we had stocked up on the food and drink in preparation for Hurricane Irene?  For one day and two nights worth of stormy weather, we bought: two bottles of red wine, a case of Blue Moon, a handle of Jack Daniels and a 2liter of cola.

That meant that we were ready to drink any of the following concoctions: red wine (alone), Calimochos (my favorite), Jack and Coke or just beer.

Well in case 4 drink options weren’t enough for you (or more appropriately, for me and the boyfriend) we decided to go out to the store and grab some Ginger Ale.  We narrowly escaped fallen trees and Hurricane Irene debris, and returned with  one purchase that added 2 more drink options to our bar menu for the night.  Now added to the list of possible drink concoctions: Jack and Ginger and sangria!

I’ll leave the Jack and Cokes and Jack and Gingers for the boys, I was itching for some Sangria.  Plus, the boyf is packing up and moving out of his apartment this week, so we need to clean out as much of his frozen foods as possible.  Found in the freezer: 3 bags of frozen fruit from the farm.  Blueberries, strawberries, raspberries.  Add red wine, gingerale, a bit of white wine and a bit of blackberry vodka and you’ve got one hell of a very berry sangria!

Unfortunately pitchers and most large containers are already packed, so we used the blender.

A summer night at the farm in Maine always means a few things.  Good food, good drinks, good company… and a campfire.  Since it’s late August, and the air feels a bit like autumn, we’ve traded our Sam Adams Summer beer for a richer, fall beer.  Another sign that summer is nearing its end in Maine: someone first starts the fire before breakfast, and we tend to it all day long, putting it out only long after dinner when the crowd decides to hit the sack.

I swear, it’s days and nights like this that I live for…

This is how I spent my Saturday afternoon in Montville, ME, a teeny, tiny town 15 miles inland of beautiful Belfast: steaming fresh from the coast lobsters over a handmade slate fire pit, along with fresh picked, farm grown corn. Montville is where the grandparent’s farm is located, and no matter how teeny, tiny it is, it’s a place of immense beauty.

The boyf and I recently crashed at one of my best girlfriend’s house in Maine for a Friday night.  My parents were expecting guests for the weekend, and we didn’t quite feel like spending the weekend on an aerobed in my basement.  So my girlfriend and her husband invited us to stay with them.  They live right down the road from my parents, have an absolutely adorable house, and apparently are quite the hosts!

We picked up Lilly from work on our way into town, and when we walked into her house 20 minutes later we found her husband John in the kitchen.  Cutting and chopping.  Stove top sizzling, oven preheating.  Wine glasses ready to go, bottle of wine chilling, chips and homemade salsa already prepared and out on the bar.  So is this what I have to look forward to in married life?  I sure hope so!

John was preparing chicken and shrimp fajitas, with diced tomatos, avacado, mango, cilantro and onion.  Lemon and lime for squeezing and a one-of-a-kind pesto chili peppered aioli.  Don’t ask what went into the aioli, I have absolutely no idea.  All I know is that I wanted more, and more, and more of it!

After dinner and wine, we carried the wine into the living room and continued the night with card games and good conversation.  After being conditioned to believe that the only ‘good nights out’ include a taxi ride, cover and overcrowded, loud bar, it was incredible to reminded that fun nights with friends can take place from the couch.

Married life is looking better and better every single day.

I’ve spoken before of my adoration of farmer’s markets.  It’s a love that goes back to my early childhood.  It reminds me of summer weekends with my parents, seasonal fruit for breakfast and fresh cut fl0wers on the kitchen table.  And now that I live in the city, amongst many too-busy-to-smell-the-roses professionals, the sight of a farmer’s market makes my heart skip a beat.

It’s also a great excuse to take pictures, even if just on my iPhone.

So here’s to continuing my weekend trips to the farmer’s market, to buying fresher, to eating healthier.

Breakfast is not a meal that I often venture very far for, and rarely do I go searching for a new spot to get my eggs or granola.  But earlier this month a company outing brought me to a neighborhood of Boston that I frequented only at 2AM in my college days.  This time, I was there at 8AM on a weekday.  A few work friends decided to meet an hour earlier than our official outing and grab breakfast.

We picked North 26 Restaurant and Bar in the Millennium Hotel.  I certainly never would have chosen a hotel restaurant for breakfast, but North 26 exceeded all of my expectations.  The restaurant was surprisingly chic, the hotel lobby was gorgeous (seriously, the interior designer deserves a huge pat on the back for some of its unique design elements) and the food was mmm mmm good.

I ordered the vegetarian benedict with wilted spinach and asparagus, hollandaise and the signature English muffin.  I order benedicts a lot and I have to honestly say this was one of the best.   To top it off, I asked for an ice coffee, and although it’s not on the menu the server made one on the spot and added a bit of espresso.  Just for kicks!  I tell ya, more people should think like him.

Saturday afternoon the boyf and I celebrated the completion of his road race with a fun outdoor lunch at  Portland Lobster Co..  I used to work at the restaurant when I was in high school, and despite it’s paper plates and picnic tables, I still firmly believe that it’s one of the hidden gems in Portland.  It’s not so much a secret.  Tourists flock here, and on a midsummers day you’re lucky to find a seat.  Us locals tend to overlook these tourist traps, but PLC is not to be missed.

The atmosphere is amazing.  The indoor restaurant space is just large enough for 4 or 5 small parties, so the majority of the seating is outside.   And trust me, that’s just fine.  The patio is actually a wharf, so you’re eating alongside the ocean, literally next to lobster boats and there’s almost always a live band to keep you entertained.  They serve beer, wine and a homemade sangria and man, it’s just Maine for you.  It attracts families and young couples, hippies and yuppies.  They serve a mean lobster with the meat from a 1lb lobster and nothing says summer like an order of steamers.

The boyf’s mom even joined us for a bit to enjoy the sunshine and steamers, and despite his look below, I promise you, we had a great afternoon.  This is his standard ‘are you done taking pictures yet?’ face.  I’m becoming more and more familiar with it.  Whoops.

Happy Sunday morning to me. Reading, iced coffee, catch up with DVR and homemade chocolate chip pancakes.  So, my pancakes didn’t quite turn out as pretty looking as my dad’s, but hey, they sure tasted delicious.

After another unbeatable weekend in Maine, the boyfriend and I found ourselves late Sunday evening sunkissed, tired, and wanting nothing more than to somehow avoid the bumper to bumper drive back to Boston.  We decided there was only one thing that could remedy this dreadful situation.  Well, that is besides quitting our jobs, subletting our apartments and moving permanently back to Maine.  Since that option is (currently) out of question, we settled for an at home lobster dinner for two.

Because we didn’t want to be driving until midnight, we decided to purchase the lobsters from the local Maine fish market, have them packed to travel, and dine after the drive.  The apartment was hot, and an at home lobster dinner in my 4th floor Boston walk up isn’t quite the same as an outdoor lobster bake along the rocky coast of Maine, but – we survived.

We had a cold beer, fresh corn on the cob and warm biscuits (courtesy of Gram at the farm).  All things considered, it was delightful.