This is a new moment for me. At many points in my past have I found myself empowered by opportunities I have found before me, but this…this one is different. A voice that rings anonymously amongst the building tops, caught in the swirl of smoke stack and steam vents, invisible in the midnight oil sky. Even with the moon being a couple days from full frontal nudity, I am still an apparition walking through someone else’s halls late, late into the night.
Rekindling the journal in my life is exciting. Just lately have I found myself drawn to the note’s pages on facebook. When compelled by the words of Margaret Atwood or motivated by the speeches of Barack Obama or driven by a note or an idea that came strolling through my brain when it was cordoned off and reserved for other activities, here is the opportunity to vent out the stink pipe and keep the cerebral unit fresh and firing.
So before I go enjoy a square of Julie’s Gun Cove Cobbler, something I have been thinking about all day, I want to say a quick thing about eating out. Why on earth would we go somewhere and fork over a couple hours pay for food that we can prepare at home, better than the establishment that we subsidized for the evening. In Brunswick, ME, there is a caterer/bistro that sits caddy-corner to Bowdoin College by the name of Scarlet Begonia. Yes, it is a take off on the Grateful Dead, because so many people cannot think hard enough to come up with an original name, but instead would ride a coattail. Their entrees are in the $12-$15 category, covering the basic caterer fare of sandwiches, pasta, pizza, soups and salads.
After finishing pizza margarita, linguine puttanesca and kale-sausage soup I cannot stop thinking that what comes out of our oven and adorns our square, white, IKEA 365 plates is considerably tastier and cheaper than they who should instead be wearing a scarlet letter for the sin they have committed: offering people a meal that is substandard. Coming from a home that valued food to the point that the kitchen was the common room of the house, I was grossly disappointed and plan to never cross that bistro’s threshold again. It’s kind of sad, because a handful of people told me they liked it there, but now, I understand what each of those personalities liked and how to filter the suggestions that come from those sources in the future.
Alas, the time has come for my Gun Cove Cobbler, a luscious remake of online cobbler recipe. Now that I think about it it may have been inspired by Michelle Obama’s cobbler recipe…an inspiring family all around I guess. Apples, raspberries, strawberries, crunchy cobble topping with pecans, rolled oats and some brown sugar sweetness. There are few things that make us as happy as this treat does, but they can be saved for another time.
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