Tag Archives: food

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A scenic drive that ended with lunch at the shoe factory.

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When it’s a beautiful summer day in Maine, you grab your husband and head west.

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Not quite to the mountains, but we could see them from our windows .

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Destination? A highly recommended Italian restaurant in an old converted shoe factory.

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It was a rustic place, full of exposed beams and brick.

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No, I didn’t order that.

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I went with a fruity white Sangria instead.

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Cheesy garlic bread appetizer with homemade sauce started us off.

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It was too windy to sit outside but we did watch the umbrellas tip over a few times.

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Our meals were amazing. Decadently rich grilled chicken Alfredo for the hubs, Burgundy marinated filet tips on vegetable risotto for me.

We were stuffed and since the portions were hardy, went home with ample leftovers… but that didn’t stop us from ordering dessert to go.

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Yours truly is not leaving an Italian restaurant without Tiramisu.

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Calzolaio Pasta Co, is going on the list of River approved dining spots.

How could it not? On the way there….

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Cows!

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Boo to shuttered breweries and bad lunches.

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After we finished with the antique store in the old mill, we strolled around and checked out the rest of the building.

Stores and office space on the first few floors, luxury apartments on the top.

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I loved this reclaimed bench.

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I did not love the fact this brewery was empty and shuttered tight. Boo to that.

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This is the Silver Street Tavern which came highly recommended.

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I passed on the Afternoon Delight as I prefer not to drink sh*t… good, in a cup or otherwise. I went with the Key Lime Gin Fizz…

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Which tasted just like a basic gin and tonic… so meh to the cocktails.

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The husband started with his go to appetizer, French Onion soup. Sadly it was sub par with a strange charred flavor.

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His chicken pot pie wasn’t really a pie and while the flaky top looked promising, it was cold, full of potatoes and quite dry.

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I went with the homemade crab cake sandwich and call bullsh*t on the homemade. It was tiny and tasted like a frozen Mrs. Paul.

Needless to say we won’t be returning there for another meal.

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Rise and brine!

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Yes, the pickle posts are still peppering my page. So grab your cup of morning coffee and check out these briny abominations.

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Fritters are delightfully sweet treats.

Hard pass.

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There’s a name for this, but it’s definitely not fashion.

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Pickle juice ice cubes.

I just can’t…

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No.

And again, no.

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I have two words for this person.

Seek help.

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Plants and pickles.

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It’s finally time to start planting some annuals around Casa River. It’s really only safe after Memorial Day as we had frosty nights right up until the end of May.

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A few geraniums.

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Some peachy begonias on the kitchen porch.

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A line of alternating marigolds.

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And it was back to the greenhouse for another trunkful. One can never have too many flowers.

My husband disagrees, but what does he know?

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A pizza. With pickles. And pickle flavored potato chips. Christ, it might as well have kale.

🤢

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I always thought I was one of those people who said – I’ll eat anything as long as it’s covered in chocolate.

Turns out I was wrong.

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Miscellaneous drivel.

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Remember those $50 blueberry bushes we bought at the nursery?

Turns out they had the same ones at the grocery store for $25.

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The husband couldn’t resist.

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There are days when I prefer to soak myself in alcohol, but apples and watermelons work too.

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I passed on the meatloaf mountain. Bread and potatoes? That’s a bit much.

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Here’s the Junior chuck, just chillin’ on the deck landing.

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Probably still full from all those flowers he devoured.

😖

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How blue are you?

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When we moved to our house in 2002 most of the back yard was waist high fields. Over the years my husband… aka the Lawn Ranger… turned the fields into lawn. And in the middle of that lawn?

Nine high blueberry bushes. (So named because the famously sweet low bush Maine blueberries are literally ankle high.)

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We’ve had good years and bad as far as harvesting goes. Sometimes the birds eat them all, sometimes we have a late frost and they never grow properly.

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Pruning is important but sadly this year we lost two bushes.

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The blossoms smell divine and everywhere there’s a bloom?

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There will be a berry…

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Like this in mid to late August.

Not wanting to miss out on summer pie, the husband and I went to a large nursery and purchased two replacement bushes.

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I was a bit shocked at the sticker price of $49.99 each, but fresh blueberry lemon pound cake with lemon glaze can not be denied.

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Fingers crossed they fruit this year.

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Momma – 1. Junior – 0… and hungry.

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Lately we’ve just had the junior woodchuck visiting the backyard. He was the runt of last year’s litter and though momma chuck is famous for booting all the kids out of the den as soon as they’re grown, this little guy is still living at home.

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But momma is not pleased.

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Every time he gets near her she barks and bites and drives him off.

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Watermelon is not to be shared with deadbeat kids who live in the basement.

🤣

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News you can’t use.

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You can’t use it. But it may make you smile…

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Sorry, it will always be the Wienermobile to me.

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And you know someone had to actually lick it to warrant posting that sign.

In local news, the Wiener was recently spotted boarding a ferry in Maine.

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You don’t see that everyday.

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Well, if Tik Tok says it…

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Another headlines that begs the question… why?

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Weirdest. Plant. Ever.

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Just because it’s purple…

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My husband likes this new restaurant called the White Duck. I’m not sure why as every time we’ve been there the food has been mediocre at best.

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The cocktails? Not much better.

This trip the lavender margarita sounded interesting.

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And though it was a pretty purple… it tasted more like the sugar shaker ran amok than lavender. Sickeningly sweet which is not what I want in a cocktail. Sadly the cup of clam chowder wasn’t any better. Thin, watery, full of potatoes with very few clams. Boo to that.

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I hate when the cocktail list is just phoning it in.

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The husband ordered the supposedly home made baked mac and cheese. I make this at home and never think to call it a meal. Theirs was dry as a bone with virtually no flavor. Boo to that as well.

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I stuck with the pub burger because it’s one of the few things they do correctly here. Charbroiled, perfectly cooked with melted cheddar, bacon and served on a brioche bun. With a cold Down East hard cider of course.

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