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.
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.
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.
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.
The husband and I were on our way home from a sad visit with his elderly uncle the other day when he surprised me with the offer to stop at one of my favorite watering holes.
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I say it was a surprise because while I love The Blind Pig and their creative pours, hubby isn’t a fan of their food and never wants to visit.
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Empty.. since it was the middle of the afternoon in the middle of the week, I dove right in.
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First up? A blackberry vanilla martini.
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The speed at which it disappeared literally raised my husband’s eyebrows.
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And while we weren’t there for a meal we did order a few nibbles. Barbecue wings for the husband, which he enjoyed despite his misgivings about the kitchen.
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And a massive plate of what turned out to be fabulously fresh and juicy chicken fingers for moi. I could only get halfway through the plate but they were so good they even made my other half agree he may have to reverse his ban on eating here.
Oh, cocktail #2?
A crisp and delightful pear mojito.
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Corn star.
Lawyers, guns and money.
Even the drink list will make you smile.
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While I could have happily sat there and drank all day, my final libation was a strawberry rhubarb margarita. Tasty, but honestly a bit too sweet for me.
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Pardon their typo at the end. With the quality of cocktails, I’m surprised the typist made it that far without errors.
In Maine we have the Lobster festival, the Clam Festival, and the Oyster festival. We have a Blueberry Festival, a Whoopie Pie festival and a Chowder festival. Folk, Reggae and Blues Festivals? Yup. We’ve got those too. Hell… we even have the White Nose Pete Fly Fishing Festival.
For my fishing obsessed readers, the legend of White Nose Pete –
If you read part one, you’ll know I was thoroughly enjoying this thoughtfully designed new restaurant.
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The fact that it was happy hour and if you sat at the bar their speciality cocktails were half price may have had something to do with that.
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Good thing it was a beautiful slab of granite.. because my bar bills are legendary.
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These were my three choices for the afternoon starting with the Winter Lux.
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A lovely combination of tart and sweet with a seriously booze soaked cherry at the finish.
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Next up was the Sicilian Sour which I expected to be smooth and spicy but was really just a serious bolt of brightly colored bourbon. Not complaining mind you, just surprised.
Since appetizers were half price as well, I had some delightful arincini with herbed mustard sauce and pecorino crema.
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Husband went with the mussels which were served with grilled lemon, heirloom tomatoes, shallots and fennel with a garlic white wine Pernod butter sauce.
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And chickpea fritters to mop up the sauce.
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My final drinkie poo was the Cold Night Collins, a delightfully cool and crisp citrus concoction with an herbal undertone.
And because we were actually there to try the food, I chose the bucatini carbonara.
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Which unfortunately was sub par. While the pasta was homemade, the dish was dry, uninteresting and lacking in flavor. And sadly, the husband didn’t fare any better.
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Half full from all the mussels, he went light with a salad and Sicilian pizza combo. Which had to be sent back because it was stone cold and hard as a rock. And while we assumed they would make him a new one, it seems they just threw it back in the oven to reheat because on return he flipped it over to find it was black as charcoal. Our server immediately took it off the bill and offered a substitute but by that time the husband decided to skip the entree and go straight to dessert.
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Which I have to say more than made up for the lousy pizza. Tiramisu cheesecake with Kahlua. Fabulous!
And because it would be rude to let him eat sweets alone…
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Key lime crème brûlée for moi. Ooh la la! This made up for my mediocre pasta as well.
I talked to a friend the other day whose granddaughter works there and she told me they’re still experiencing the growing pains most new restaurants suffer. Help is hard to find these days and good kitchen staff can be even harder. But we enjoyed it and there was enough on the plus side for us to return.
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If nothing else, I’ll just sit at the bar and stare at the giant fish.
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Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
River's world..... 