We didn’t have any specific plans for St.Patricks Day so after running a few morning errands we decided to stop at our local pub for lunch on the way home .
Appropriate beverages were consumed.
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Noticing the owner, and our favorite Scottish bartender, was slightly out of sorts… we inquired as to the reason.
Turns out he’d wanted the day off… because while most people enjoy that holiday? He hates it.
Naturally I asked why.
“Because I’m tired of everyone asking me what part of Ireland I’m from.”
Which probably explained the sentiment on his shirt.
I am an extremely happy camper and the reason is beer.
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We’ve found a delightful new brewery that doesn’t overload their brew with hops, hence the title.
The latest trend in Maine microbrews is IPA’s. Hoppy, bitter, double and triple IPA’s… which is fine, unless you’re me and don’t like them. I can’t tell you how many tasting rooms we’ve visited where every single beer on tap is hop forward.
Enter Olive Pit Brewing… a small, dog friendly, woman owned operation whose main goal is offering creative options.
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I should have flipped that over and photographed the other side… but I was too busy sampling. Please note there was a margarita inspired beer. Be still my heart.
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Yes, both those flights were mine. Don’t judge… variety is the spice of life.
And if you noticed the flight boards are dog bones?
There’s a reason.
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Meet Olive, the inspiration. A rescue dog the owners adopted from down south, Olive became seriously ill shortly after moving to Maine… but $25,000 later ( no, I’m not exaggerating ) she’s a well loved and happy pup.
So the brewery welcomes dogs, inside and out. Dogs and beer. What’s not to love?
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Did I mention there are beer cocktails?
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You know I had to try that!
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Weird, but quite tasty. And perfect for our one friend who doesn’t like beer but agreed to come because she’s a good sport.
We had a great time and definitely plan on going back.
Swag? Of course I had to buy some.
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Forest green t shirt…
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With appropriate tagline on the back.
They don’t bite because they’re not hoppy.
They don’t bite because the dogs are friendly.
And after tasting every single brew they offered? I can attest to the fact their product most definitely doesn’t bite taste wise either.
We will start and end this post with photos of His Lordship.
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Seen here giving me the evil eye for lowering the blinds and blocking his morning sun.
I had a birthday recently… yay me, another trip around the sun and straight down the road to decrepitude.
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The husband told me to pick a place for dinner but I’d skipped lunch and decided we should go cocktail hopping early.
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Enter Royal River Grille, one of my favorite spots.
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We settled happily at the bar… but were presented with brunch menus since it was a Sunday. I’m not a breakfast person so the thought of scrambled eggs with my Cosmo at 4:00pm did not please me, not one little bit. Brunch until 5:00pm? Come on.
We decided to move on and got the check.
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With tip, $30.92 for a drink and a beer. What’s the world coming to?
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Next stop was Goodfire Brewery, a new place I’d been wanting to try. On arrival we discovered they were almost out of beer and only had three left on tap. Thankfully one was a blackberry currant sour, but at $9.50 per for the small pour and a virtually non existent menu, we paid $24 for two beers and moved on again.
We ended at a nice seafood place we hadn’t visited in a while and I had a lovely crab, shrimp and scallop lasagna which I didn’t photograph.
So we end with me another year older and a very innocent Lord Dudley Mountcatten.
The last vintage beer crate we found had one issue…
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Wooden bottle separators that would have to be removed in order to house my vinyl. This was not simply a matter of pulling and popping them out. They were old, warped, and not in any hurry to go.
Ergo… it required tools.
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And since my husband turned his barn and workshop into a man cave …. this meant doing surgery in the living room.
Lord Dudley Mountcatten did not approve.
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After the first twenty minutes the husband was grumbling.
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After the second twenty minutes he was sputtering.
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But when the clock struck a solid hour of remodeling?
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One empty crate ready for part of my record collection.
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Although judging from the price of an old can of that beer … I think I’d rather have it filled with those.
Every time we stay in the White Mountains of New Hampshire we try to explore a new town. This trip it was Littleton….
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A charming place with a delightfully quirky downtown area.
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They’ve been voted Best American Main Street numerous times and once you stroll around… it’s easy to see why.
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Of course when you’re strolling with my husband that means ducking into every antique store you see.
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Clearly this fellow takes his wine selection seriously.
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But wait… what’s that on the floor in the back?
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Weeee! Another vintage alcohol related crate for my vinyl collection. I paid more for this one than any of the others, but we haggled 20% off and there’s no sales tax in New Hampshire so I’m calling it a win.
Husband doing the dishes in our resort condo as well? Score!!!
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Heading to the riverfront area we discovered a pedestrian covered bridge.
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Which afforded some great views..
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And that old red building with the waterwheel on the left?
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Turned out to be Schilling brewery which made yours truly very happy.
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They kept the feel of the old mill with a rustic interior…
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And served a fabulous wood fired artisan pizza with chicken, bacon, cheese, spinach, tart apples and maple syrup. Sound weird? Yes… but it was heavenly.
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As was their beer, which they take very seriously. The bartender was extremely knowledgeable and quizzed you before you chose. It wasn’t pass or fail, but it definitely resulted in him pouring you the perfect beer suited to your tastes.
My liquid ambrosia this visit? Schlaumeier – a Hefeweizen (wheat beer) with delicate notes of banana and clove. It sounds bizarre was positively grand.
Yes, it’s true. We took another mini trip and I’m about to flood you with more travel photos.
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This time we just jumped across the border and headed to the White Mountains of north western New Hampshire.
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It’s one of my favorite areas… filled with scenic beauty and wondrous natural places to explore.
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These photos are from the famous Kancamagus highway. A 30 odd mile stretch of road cut right through the mountains.
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In peak foliage season it’s divine and while we were two weeks late for that, there was still some residual color.
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Until you reached the top.
But back down the other side it brightened up again.
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The resort we chose this time around was literally right off this road at the end of the National Forest.
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And for us, you can’t get much better than that.
Since check in wasn’t until 4:00pm, we headed to Woodstock.
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A quaint New England village…
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With a big brewery/restaurant/inn.
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You knew that was coming, right? The autumn beer on the far right was my pick. A rich, creamy amber with notes of pumpkin and nutmeg. Perfect!
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And right above my head, teasing me with every glance? A vintage ale crate, damn it. The husband was determined to purchase it for me but the manager didn’t care how much beer we drank, the answer was always no.
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And though our lunches didn’t appear appetizing?
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They were both delicious. Baked haddock, garlic smashed red potatoes and squash for me. Charbroiled mushroom Swiss burger for the hubs.
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A good start to the vacation… except for this uber creepy spare parts facsimile of a doll hovering alongside the bar.
Since resort check in wasn’t until 4:00pm we had some time to kill. And when you have time to kill in this area of Vermont? You drive through The Notch.
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It’s basically a road cut right through the mountain and it’s one of my absolute favorite drives.
Twisty, turny and littered with glacial granite boulders…. it’s a rock lovers dream.
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Not that it’s the easiest road to navigate mind you. The switchbacks are breath taking, the proximity to boulders cringe worthy. In places you’re absolutely blind and are left crossing everything you have that nothing is coming the other way when the road narrows so tightly only one car can pass.
My husband drives it like sport.
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On the other side of The Notch? Stowe… a lovely village I’ll highlight later. And in Stowe?
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An amazing local brewery.
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We had to stand in line half an hour to get in, on a Tuesday, at 2:30 in the afternoon. It’s that good. I was willing to wait longer to sit in one of the artfully decorated dining rooms (the giant velvet cow print couch was calling my name) but the husband snatched two seats at the bar as soon as they became available.
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One flight in…. on an amazing polished copper bar, we were already loving this place.
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The Kolsch was delightful, the Pink and Pale seriously puckering.
And since we were at a brewery….
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I had to try the monster soft pretzel. Not only does Idletyme brew their own beer, they make their own beer cheese and grind their own mustard. A win win.
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As was this hot spiced cider with rum. Hey, when in Rome…
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My chargrilled mushroom Swiss burger with crispy onions and Caesar salad was good, but my husband’s choice?
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Ooh la la! So beyond the normal pub fare … we might have drooled. Butternut squash ravioli with maple cream sauce, sliced almonds and a hint of cayenne for bite. It was utterly fabulous.
Too stuffed for dessert, we headed back through The Notch and it’s amazing selection of rocks.
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And mini waterfalls breaking through at random intervals.
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And by then, it was time to check in.
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Yes, the resort is named after The Notch… which was originally used by smugglers and bootleggers. Yet another reason to love it.
A little history if you’re interested…
With cliffs on either side that sometimes reach a height of 1,000 feet, it’s also easy to see how very few people would have been caught on their way to and from one country to another. The landscape looked completely different in the early 1800s and there were far fewer people – and towns – meaning this region was even more remote. After former president Thomas Jefferson passed the Embargo Act in 1807, the restriction of trade between countries had a drastically negative impact on the state of Vermont. As the state shares a border with Canada, this trade route was by far the easiest to use, and once that was cut off there were many citizens and businesses that suffered in the northern part of the state.
This route was not only used for trading. Fugitive slaves would also utilize the route to make their way through Vermont and into Canada, which gave it another historic purpose.
The use of Smugglers’ Notch didn’t just end there, though. As Vermont progressed into the 20th century, they would be subject to yet another restriction – this time, on alcohol. When Prohibition came about in 1922, the state was lucky enough to have opened Smugglers’ Notch to automobile traffic. This meant that those using the route would no longer need to cross on foot or horseback, which opened up even more illegal trade route options. In this case, it was Vermont’s loophole during the time when it was legally a dry state.
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*Not my photo , but it gives you a better idea of the scope*
The Notch is closed to tractor trailer trucks due to the precarious turns, and though there are ample signs warning them not to enter, a few idiots try it every year, getting stuck and causing horrible traffic jams and back ups.
The entire road is closed for the season starting in mid October so we were lucky and slipped in right before the gates came down.
My husband heard about a large flea market in Fryeburg , Maine… and since the 90 minute drive did not deter him, over to the western part of the state we went.
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There was indeed a flea market, but that’s the only good thing I can say about it. Yes, there were a few antiques scattered here and there… but mostly it was tacky new merchandise. Like this:
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Clearly Barbie has reached menopause age.
It was hot as hell that day with no breeze whatsoever and that made me cranky. The only thing that made me smile?
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Martian chauffeurs.
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After a few fruitless hours of my husband searching for treasure and me searching for shade, we left empty handed. And since it was well past lunchtime and I’d worked up a terrible thirst.. there was only one place to go. The penultimate brew pub.
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If you don’t know where it is, you’ll never find it… tucked away down a narrow wooded residential road, alongside a golf course in a quiet town near the border of New Hampshire called Lovell .
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The barn is the pub, and there’s outdoor seating as well.
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If you’ve never heard of Ebenezer’s? Good. That means more beer for me.
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But if you live in New England, chances are you know this award winning shrine to suds. A visit there never disappoints.
I’m not a huge ice cream eater and normally don’t have any in the freezer at home, but I do enjoy a nice creamy coffee or mint chocolate chip cone now and then. And while those are my go to flavors I’m always game to try something different. Apple pie? Sure. Passion fruit sherbet? Why not. But there’s a line I’m not willing to cross and the following are on the other side of it.
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I won’t. And you can’t make me.
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Yes. Someone thought it would be a good idea to make eggplant ice cream.
And may I just say…. they were wrong.
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Miller brewing company? Your dishwater beer is bad enough.. what were you thinking?
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Tobacco smoke ice cream? For the love of all that’s holy, no.
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Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
River's world..... 