Tag Archives: food

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Payback.

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I spent 5 hours following my husband from store to store looking for a new weed whacker last week.

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Don’t believe the people who tell you men hate to shop. When he’s looking for a new toy for himself? My guy will shop until I drop. We hit at least 7 different lawn and garden sections and then went back to the very first place we stopped so he could buy the very first one he saw.

And then?

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The man who owns a giant zero turn tractor and four push mowers… yes, four. Two of them self propelled. … started looking at new push mowers.

For me.

The person who doesn’t want one.

It was at that point I said enough… and made him take me for a nice late lunch.

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A fresh blueberry mojito was a good way to start.

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Every time I see this old tool art installation I want my husband to do something like it in the man cave.

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And every time, he says no.

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To start… it was butternut squash soup for the husband and some fabulous dry rub barbecue shrimp for moi.

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A basil limeade later?

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An amazing Bolognese with fresh pasta and a lamb, beef and pork ragu. It was so good I didn’t even notice what the husband ate.

Well worth 5 hours of tool shopping.

😉

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Random nonsense.

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Because there’s so much of it.

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12 feet of kale?

I’m going to have nightmares about that.

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After cleaning and organizing the closet in our master bath, I figure it will be a while before I need to buy certain products. 4 bottles of toothpaste, 6 bottles of Bath and Body Works lotion, 7 sticks of deodorants and 15 bars of soap of later I realized I may need to organize more often.

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Best. Display. Container. Ever.

Or worst. It’s a tough call.

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Even bees need bouncers.

Who knew?

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Let’s play.

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You don’t have to, but where’s the fun in that?

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I don’t drink coffee, so that’s easy to give up.

Sugar? I could pull my sweet tooth if I had to.

Pasta? That would be hard, but okay.

Cheese? I’m not sure life would be worth living, but if I have to choose…

I’m going to cling to my bread.

The crusty French loaves, the sourdough, the potato rolls, the honey wheat, the brioche, the cornbread, the biscuits, the pumpernickel!

Give me a pound of butter and a knife? I’m good.

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Yes. That could be me.

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How about you…

What couldn’t you give up?

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Creative baking.

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Do you like to bake cookies?

Chocolate chip? Oatmeal raisin? Snickerdoodles?

In Portugal they’ll do you one better.

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Or worse depending on your point of view.

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Nothing says festive like rows of penis garland.

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Edible penis prayers? If that doesn’t get you to church nothing will.

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Because when you think of Christianity… aren’t phalluses the first thing that comes to mind?

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Underground pecker pastry.

Black market todger trading.

Ah, Portugal. Clinging to their John Thomases for centuries.

🤣

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They really don’t succ.

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I used to have various pots of succulents scattered around the Barn Mahal/man cave. Mainly because no room I inhabit can be plantless but also due to their relatively carefree nature. Sadly I’m not out there as often as I used to be and though the husband still has friends in to play pool, he never thinks to water them… so with the heat pump sucking every drop of moisture out of the air all winter? A lot of them died.

After retrieving their carcasses, I did something I thought I’d never do.

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Yup.

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I bought a bunch of fakes.

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And I have to say, I’m rather impressed.

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While it goes against my gardening grain to resort to artificial, we have to close the blinds in the summer to avoid drying out and cracking the leather chairs as well as trying to prevent the a/c from running non stop so the real ones spent most of their time in the dark.

Enter the fake succulents.

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And though I really hate to admit it? Fake succulents don’t actually suck.

Who knew?

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I did manage to keep my jade plant alive and healthy so thankfully it’s not all plastic fantastic in there.

And speaking of dead things? I did a little recon in the beer fridge and found some dip that expired the beginning of March and creamer that died in January.

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Old junk isn’t the only thing my husband refuses to throw out.

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Brunch at the Pig

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One of my favorite watering holes serves brunch on Sunday morning… which we’ve never tried because the husband has a standing date for pool in the man cave with a friend. But last weekend the friend couldn’t make it – so up to the The Blind Pig we went.

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And what better way to start brunch than with a flight of Mimosas?

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Since it was Maine Maple Sunday.. an annual celebration of tapping trees and sap houses… all the cocktails that day featured the sweet treat.

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Warning: Consumption of alcohol also impairs your ability to complete a sentence.

As you know my husband never liked the food at the Pig until a recent visit changed his mind. On this day the owners sat next to us at the bar and told us they’d just hired a new cook and had hopes for higher quality meals.

Ever the optimist and always searching for a good batch, I ordered their biscuits and gravy with home fries.

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While the sausage and gravy were alright, the biscuit was like a brick and the home fries were overcooked and greasy. ( Please note the mini strawberry rhubarb margarita. I received it free after telling the bartender the one I had on our last visit was too sweet. Free drinks? I love this place… even if the food is hit or miss)

I didn’t have a chance to photograph the husband’s meal because he sent it back too quickly. His eggs were cold, the dark toast he requested looked like it never saw heat and the homemade hash was a revolting mess of tough ham, hard sweet potato and some unidentified green. Disappointing to say the least.

Looks like it will be a while before I get him back there.

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Montsweag Farm

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Next to one of my husband’s favorite summertime flea markets there was an old farmhouse.

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Which was turned into a family restaurant…

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Which went downhill over the years and became a rough and tumble biker bar called the Montsweag Roadhouse.

Now? It’s undergone another transformation and has become the Montsweag Farmhouse restaurant.

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Its a nice place to stop for a drink when you’re cruising up (or down as the case may be) Route 1.

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We’ve had quite a few meals here but never know what to expect. Sometimes it’s good, other times not. On this particular day I started with an interesting cocktail.

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The apple barn spritz.

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For lunch? An anemic Caesar salad for me and a horrible bowl of French Onion soup the husband ending up sending back.

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He switched to the mussels which he didn’t really enjoy either.

Bean sprouts on mussels? Just.. no.

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I moved on to a very tart cranberry margarita…

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And the vegetable risotto with sautéed garlic greens which was divine.

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Rich, creamy and very flavorful.

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The husband ended with a really nice blueberry crumble for dessert… and the fact that I tried to cut through the ramekin thinking it was a crust speaks to how potent my drinks were.

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In case you’re wondering where the word Montsweag originated.

It’s Maine. We have lots of Native American names.

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The birthday dinner.

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The day after my husband’s birthday, when his dental pain and swelling was greatly reduced, we celebrated his birthday at a lovely waterfront restaurant on the mid coast.

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Did we enjoy a nice table with a water view?

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No. We sat at the bar because my husband loves nothing more than striking up a conversation with random people he neither knows nor will ever see again.

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It wouldn’t have been my choice, but it is closer to the alcohol so I don’t complain too loudly.

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First cocktail? Summer Thyme… which is still a long way off in Maine, but delightfully crisp all the same.

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Husbands appetizer? Butternut squash soup.

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I went with the herbed truffle fries with Parmesan thinking it would be a small nibble and not the massive plate I was served. Needless to say three quarters of it went home with me. Second cocktail was a lovely Basil Limeade.

By this time the restaurant was packed and the kitchen was slammed. Waiting for our entrees meant cocktail number three. I chose the white sangria but was disappointed with the mixed on the spot over fruited glass of wine. Sangria must be mixed and let to sit so it absorbs all the flavors. Boo to number three.

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My chosen meal was the duck sausage with mushroom, homemade ziti and Marsala crème sauce. It was fabulous. As was the pear martini.

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Husband went with the shrimp scampi which was also wonderful with freshly made pasta and a rich garlicky sauce.

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In case you’re wondering, the name of the restaurant is the Water Street Kitchen and Bar and it’s located in what is commonly known as the prettiest village in Maine… Wiscasset.

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We’ve been coming here for years, though it’s previous incarnation was Le Garage. Because back in the early 1900’s? It really was an automotive repair shop, hence the original sliding doors.

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As seen from the water side.

If you’re in the area, drop by. But make a reservation if you want a table, it’s a popular place.

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