Cupcakes from Bread & Roses bakery.
This past fourth-of-July weekend was our fifth consecutive one in Ogunquit, Maine. The house where we stay has a fully-equipped kitchen with a gas stove, a screened-in dining veranda with a view to the woods, a barbecue, and a slightly salty evening breeze.
Given that the house is usually filled with men made ravenous by the sea, meals tend to be large and long. And given that the nearest grocery store is in the neighbouring town, menus are planned well in advance so that the fridge is properly stocked at the beginning of the week and we are not driving fifteen miles for cilantro.
This year’s menu was to be a week-long masterpiece of refreshing après-soleil appetizers and sensational suppers, carefully chosen to honour summer, the sea, and the celebratory spirit that a day in the sun always creates among friends.
Alas, summer was invited, but didn’t come. After two days of cold rain and thick fog, our perfectly planned summer meals seemed like preposterous things for dinner. Even fresh Maine lobster seemed out of season. Our plans, our vacation, everything was ruined. We had a fridge full of all the wrong things, hardly felt like eating, and not at all like cooking. The salmon is now three days old? Who cares. Last chance for the avocados? Good. Throw them in the garbage.
Over a meal of simply boiled lobsters, our friend Jennifer cheered us up by demonstrating with her molars how to extract flesh from even the tiniest legs. As a child, she explained, she learned to glean flavour from whatever her four older brothers overlooked. Like the chicken bones you can actually eat. And the little piece of marrow you can find on the bones of certain pork chops. Yes. There are more delicious things than you think, boys. Now let’s lose the long faces and figure out what to do with all that food in the fridge. How about a big chowder for dinner tomorrow?
The next day, we pretended it was Thanksgiving instead of Canada Day, drove into town for clams and firewood, roasted the lobster shells for stock, and made a heart-warming chowder of clams, salmon, scallops, lobster, leeks, fennel, corn, sweet potatoes, and bacon. It was even better the next day for lunch. And that’s how Jennifer saved our vacation. Thanks to her, not a vegetable was left in the fridge when we left. And as you can see in the picture of the 4th of July cupcakes that Rob bought, the sun finally did come out.
Woohoo! My 15 minutes of fame. I’d like to thank the Academy, and my voracious brothers for making me the accomplished forager I am today. And by the way, those tiny lobster legs were bursting with lobster/vanilla nectar, and all the more worth the work. Our chowder was sick, wasn’t it? The shot is beautiful. I want some right now. (And love that Crate&Barrel napkin). I don’t care what you had planned for Ogunquit – we still ate like royalty. Thanks again! Love, Jen xoxoxoxox