pirates and 21st century people

good morning. today you all may witness [above] hot, sexy queen conch love. (i should have been quicker and gotten this out yesterday, love day.)

queen conchs (both he and she are are queen conchs—there are no king conchs) are found in tropical places like the caribbean, where divers pull these mollusks from the sea and leave great piles of the empty pinkish-orangish shells near the waterfront after the conch meat has been harvested and sent to markets and restaurants.

if you like raw seafood like escargot, you'll like the taste of conch, which is similar to eating enormous escargot. the entire animal may be eaten, including that lovely appendage up there, as you will see in a second.

slurp it up like an oyster, chew it as is or in a nice seviche, sample it in soup, or eat it battered and fried in its frittered form. no matter what, it packs a powerful punch of protein.

way back in the 16th century (when these kinds of things started to get documented) pirates, pygmies and royalty professed a love for conch, especially since it was, and is, thought to be—perhaps a lot of wishful thinking, guys....and gals—an aphrodisiac, like oysters.

today, ordinary 21st century people like me enjoy eating it, too. i just recently learned that my niece, christina, has actually eaten queen conch penis—mm, mm, good—she beat me to it. (way to go, christina!) i'll let you know how it tastes when i try it sometime.

and that's all i have to say about conch—and conch penis—for now.



photo credit: jerry corsaut

winterberry

outdoors these red berries, which cling tenaciously to their branches long into winter, are little spots of festive cheer, shiny ornamental clusters in an otherwise dull gray and brown landscape.

moose, deer, rabbits, other small mammals, and birds eat winterberry. also known as fever bush, the plant was used for its medicinal properties by native americans. the berries are (supposedly) slightly toxic to humans, but if they're harvested after the first frost their toxicity is reduced (supposedly).

i placed some of the winterberry stems i got in a vase. i also made a centerpiece for the dining table with short and long needled pine and winterberry. jeez louise, i really hope no one is poisoned by my holiday decorations—everyone will just have to be on the lookout for any stray berries which may have fallen onto their plates!

the visit

buy some flowers or a bottle of wine to bring to the lady of the house and we're off.....

here we go visiting again. 'tis the season for visiting. visiting is something we do all year but during the holidays a lot more visiting seems to take place with dinners, parties and just plain casual dropping by—real old-time mainers refer to this as a door-yard-call—to say a quick hello.

not so long ago—before the invention of electricity —people didn't have many relatively inexpensive leisure activities to participate in during their spare time, so preparations for afternoon or evening visits were elaborate and taken very seriously. people left calling cards, made detailed plans, filled up their social calendars. the visit was a significant event in daily life.

i got thinking about what was once the fine art of visiting and how important it is to spend time with people. in the 21st century we don't concern ourselves too much about that. (why would anyone categorize visiting a fine art?) perhaps we don't think too much about anything we do anymore because we have so much going on, so many distractions and demands on our spare time—health clubs, shopping centers, computers, cell phones, ipods, radio, t.v.—that no one gives serious thought to any of it. we simply do what we want to do.

nevertheless, in a world with so many choices, visiting should, perhaps, be elevated in status to a fine art once again. and what about the conversation, that back and forth, give and take? it ought to be a fine art, too. often people find it difficult to focus on their friends and the conversation going on around them because they're distracted by talking on their cell phone, fiddling with apps, playing games or texting. the gadget gets the undivided attention, not the human beings, and conversation suffers.

you could argue that getting together on skype or any video chat is good enough to count as visiting time. i would agree—to some degree it does—especially when there's no other way to get together. yet there's really no substitute for being in the presence of actual, three-dimensional people, surrounding yourself with family and friends.

taking the time to call on people and to talk to them, to be immersed in the company of people we are fond of, at the holidays and beyond, is to participate in a kind of social art—a rather civilized art—the truly fine art of the visit.

a stroll through an outdoor market

oh the incredible colors and smells—large hanging bunches of bright red chili peppers and fresh papery garlic. pomegranates, oranges, lemons, limes, grapes, flowers, roasting chestnuts. fresh breads and pastries and an incredible selection of local cheeses. (i'm getting hungry as i write this.)

i could have strolled back and forth in bolzano's market all afternoon, up the via goethe and over to the piazza delle erbe off the piazza walther—you wonderful passeggiata, i'm glad you turned up and i could savor you once again.

the market in bolzano (northern italy near the austrian border) is marvelous and filled with all the right foods. the people who live in bolzano are bi-lingual and speak perfect italian and german—trilingual if you count their own local german-ish dialect which i could not understand. (every mountain valley and village speaks the official national language plus a gazillion different mishmash dialects —it can get audibly confusing.) the culture is a mix of italian and tyrolean. i loved the fact that the restaurant menus were in italian and german and not english.

i finally (!) managed to find a place not crawling with americans.

on that early november afternoon we had a big lunch and ended up feeling so full we decided to skip going to dinner and instead bought cheese, bread and fruit at the market. later that evening when we had finished our simple "dinner for two" we went out and enjoyed a glass of wine. i believe it was as close to a perfect day as you can have.

and the people watching was great, although it was a little too chilly to sit outdoors.

today's special

"c'mon. you can do it. give it a whirl," he said and laughed his loud, contagious, big-hearted laugh.

she stared into the plate. he was pushy—he was pushing her now—and sometimes he drove her crazy, but she loved him so much she felt as if she could, and would, do almost anything for him.

life had always seemed easy for her brother. he loved life and life loved him. he quickly latched on to an almost magical ability to make things work the way he wanted them to work. as he traveled around the globe on business, her brother learned early in his career how to win over customers; he charmed people with his good looks, his fine mind, and his razor-sharp wit. he did what he had to do to make deals. he didn't squirm when he saw what was put in front of him; he tackled it head on.

she had been born in illinois like her brother, but unlike her brother she rarely left home. she could add up a grand total of four states she had visited in her life, about a week in each: missouri, iowa, indiana and ohio. she had never been on an airplane. she had never left the country. in fact, she hadn't been out of illinois in years.

in illinois there were places where the land stretched out for miles in monotonous, flat-as-a-pancake acreage filled with nothing but a blur of corn. she was a meat and potatoes and corn kind of gal, as boring and unchanging as the fields around her home. she didn't like to try the new foods her girlfriends were always giving her recipes for, like wood fire grilled salmon with mango and lime salsa, or kiwis, couscous, kalamata olives, or reductions of anything. she liked her food plain, plain and simple—simple food from her good land.

but her brother was daring, and he was daring her to just do it; he was not about to let her give up on challenging herself to overcome small obstacles thrown into her comfort zone. it was not in his nature to give up. after all, he hadn't made millions of dollars by giving up. he was adventurous and fearless and curious about the world.

when he made his way through faraway lands he was always a bold eater, plowing into edgy dishes involving such gastronomic delights as chapulines a la mexicana  (grasshoppers), the larvae of tenebrio molitor (beetles), escargot, octopus, galleria mellonella (wax moth larvae), blow fish, roasted taratulas, and mexican caviar called escamoles (ant eggs).

one time after he returned from china he told his sister about an entree his host suggested he try called thrice screaming mice: the newborn mice scream the first time when they are picked up with chopsticks, the second time when they are dipped in sauce, and the third time when they are placed in the mouth.

she heaved a sigh. her hands shook a little as she firmly grasped the bright red monster ominously displaying its claws and antennae and beady black eyes for her. she thought if he can do it so can i, and proceeded to snap off the lobster's tail.

bangs island mussels

perfect timing. on this gorgeous maine afternoon—all sun and warmth and light salty breezes—we planned to cruise out to an island in casco bay to celebrate my nephew's birthday with family and friends. i jumped aboard the amelia g. with denny and nathan and off we went.

as we motored past littlejohn, basket, and mackworth islands and up the presumpscot river, we encountered rafts of eiders, many cormorants and an osprey-in-her-nest.

the bay was filled with boats which were, like us, lazily enjoying some of the last beautiful summer days of the season. in fact, our blink-and-ya-miss-it summah is my biggest maine complaint (i only have a couple; the other one is maine winters might be just a tad too long—otherwise, to me, this is paradise) but i look forward to the crisp, color-filled days of fall.

on the way to diamond cove we decided to take a closer look at bangs island mussels.

denny pulled up next to the company's floats, located south of basket island, and we had a chat with the two people on board. their mussel business operates all year, with mature mussels harvested after growing for about 16-18 months until they are 6-8 cm long. we heard about bangs island mussels' continuing battle with thieving eiders, whose diet is mainly mussels—maybe denny can help do something about that starting in october?

later in the evening i ate bangs island mussels as an appetizer at dinner. talk about freshfreshfresh (they were harvested from those floats up there, practically just a spit away from my seat on the porch) and yummy.... love you maine.

grocery shopping

the grocery store is, in a way, like a museum. it houses an impressive modern collection, albeit a perishable one, of food. it exhibits an array which boggles the mind with its infinite variety, color, form and texture; it contains a collection you can taste. (tell me, how many museums can make that claim?)

and, as you will see if you make it to the end of these scribbles, the grocery store offers a collection that speaks to you.

a few of the basic groceries i buy (and politely share with my husband), foods that are my sustenance, are things like tea, pomegranate juice, when pigs fly bread, apples, bananas, fresh pasta, skim milk, cheese, fresh fish, fresh veggies like zucchini, broccoli, baby spinach, tomatoes, greek yogurt and chocolate. and some wine. and some vodka (tastes good with the pomegranate juice).

the last time i was in the grocery store purchasing these items i decided to get a headache along with my groceries. that's not a typo; i'm serious. i thought i would pick an aisle that, to me, has the most variety of a single food item in it, and see if i could possibly take in all the colors and words and razzle-dazzle; make sense of the offerings, you know? i knew in advance an aisle like that would make me feel a little dizzy, a little giddy, a little nauseous, and i would experience a slight headache from all the stimuli.

can you guess what aisle i picked?

the one that is so packed with choices it almost mocks you? i dare you to pick just one box....

the cereal aisle.

for adults maybe these shelves don't pose a problem (except the headache part). but if you have kids with you.....

lucky charms and trix. kix. apple jacks, cocoa pebbles, golden grahams, froot loops (the spellchecker didn't like that one). reece's puffs (isn't reeses candy?), cinnamon toast crunch, frosted flakes.

also granola, raisin bran, special k, smart start, fiber one, bran flakes. i think these are supposed to be the healthy ones.

not only can you get cereal here, you can also be entertained. there are special messages just for you written all over the boxes. the cereal is desperately calling out with insistent exclamation marks! stop, look (and listen!). i did. here is a tiny sampling of what i saw:

save on pampers! (yum!)

no sugar or salt added! (tastes like the box it's packaged in.)

with natural and artificial flavors! (i would hate to have one without the other!)

crispy, glazed, crunchy, sweet! (all on, and maybe even in, one cereal box. if you ever need an adjective, forget the thesaurus. just visit the cereal section.)

rocks your whole mouth! declares a very bold box.

america's #1 source of wholegrain! (in all 50 states!)

kid tested (you bet), mother approved (questionable)!

download 15 songs free! (what does that taste like?)

crunch.a.tize.me cap'n! (ahoy! should kids even be reading this?)

win kinect for xbox360! what does that mean?

do you have a headache yet?

eet is likah seaweed......

it's may and it's time, the only time, for the umbertide fruttovendolo (vegetable guy) to put the barba di frate (monk's beard) out in the market/grocery store. the only problem is, i have never seen this delightful vegetable in maine. have you? (up there above these scribbles i hope you guessed that's a picture of pretty looking, icky tasting....not that i have....daffodils, so unlike barba di frate, which is DELICIOUS. monk's beard looks kind of like chives, but tastes nothing like chives. i did not take a photo of it when i had the opportunity, so i had to make do with a picture of daffodils for an only-available-for-a-few-weeks-in-spring representation.)

the photo i should have taken of lovely, bright green monk's beard would have been in a london restaurant last may when i ate it for the first and only time. the heavily-accented waiter in this very good, very italian restaurant (most of the staff were yakking in italian) suggested i try it with my dinner. i remember he was a pleasant and gregarious sort of fellow. when i asked him what barba di frate is and where it grows he replied eet is likah seaweed, but eet is notta seaweed. riddle food. this was getting interesting. now i was curious indeed.

{chives, similar to barba di frate in appearance only}

the name of this wonderful vegetable does not describe it in the least. it is not at all hairy like a beard. yuck. nor is it like seaweed in taste or texture. it is nice and firm and has a good crunch, like lovely thin green beans. just a quick steam or a dunk in boiling water does the trick. it was served with a bit of lemon, and had a slightly salty taste because its natural growing habitat is in salty areas beside the sea (hence the waiter's indicating it was like seaweed), though tragically not the sea around here.

too bad when we scoot across the pond again in june it will be too late for barba di frate.

the grand finale

once there was a great restaurant in town where we used to love to go for dinner (they served lunch, too) called the grand finale, and eating there was, indeed, a perfect way to end the day. it was quite a small restaurant, only a few tables, thus intimate and cozy. reservations were recommended. it was the kind of place that got you excited about food, which so rarely happens these days. occasionally famous people could be seen ducking in to this unique maine restaurant. they were undoubtedly enticed by its wonderfully fresh, local, inspired, simple and wholesome cuisine, and because they were assured of the restaurant's utmost discretion in assisting them to keep a low profile while in town.

after entering the grand finale, a short flight of thick oak stairs led up to the loft dining area. the loft was bright and airy, with a lovely cathedral ceiling, and post and beam construction. charming. it felt rather like home. in addition, the service in this establishment was impeccable. i must say i have never had a dining experience like the one at the grand finale. if such a thing is possible, the food and wine they served were, quite honestly, perfect. i am sure many other former patrons of the restaurant would heartily agree with me.

too bad the two owners of the grand finale had to close such a sweet place. we have happy, happy memories of that small restaurant with the big name. we just loved it. restaurants come and restaurants go, i know, but this one was different. every meal felt like a special occasion. it was a sad day when they served their last dinner.

but little girls, even ones who own restaurants, grow up. my daughter and my niece couldn't stay five and seven years old forever. while it lasted, the restaurant game they played was grand fun. then they grew up and moved on, as we all do. the girls made up the name. (where did such little girls come up with a name like that? must have been connected with all those piano lessons they had.) they made up the menu and the "food." the things they couldn't make up were the real fun and great times we had at the grand finale.

~today, it must be happily noted, the two "girls" are busy cooking real food for their [very] real husbands!~

seashell mollusks 101

abandoned seashell homes of mollusks. found on sanibel island, january, 2011.

to start, a little conchology (the collection and study of mollusks and seashells) for you today. pictured here is a small sample of the shells i found on our trip to the island. starting at the top and going clockwise: small horse conch, (greek for shell, pronounced konk), two carrier shells, fighting conch, alphabet cone, banded tulip, sanibel drill, calico scallop, miniature lightning whelks, lettered olive, lightning whelk, banded tulip. in the middle is a delicate white fig.

throughout time, these exquisite shells have had many uses. they have been utilized as art, jewelry, money, buttons, ink, road gravel, and in chicken feed (the calcium carbonate makes stronger egg shells).

the shells are created by secretions from the mantle, the part of the animal's body just under the shell. the mollusk shell is made of calcium carbonate and a little protein. there are no cells in a seashell. the animal's shell house needs to be constantly enlarged to accomodate growth. the shell grows from the bottom up; the newest part of the shell is around the opening where the little guy pokes out. with absolute precision, the shell is constantly added on to and repaired.*

the mollusks who originally inhabited these beautiful shell homes mostly float around in ocean currents, sometimes for hundreds of miles, or they scoot around on the ocean floor. they are eaten by other animals like starfish. some are taken by fishermen. others end up on the beach, and if they are not eaten or do not dry out in the sand, they will wash back out to sea and live another day. to most people mollusks are rather unattractive and sluglike, but once you get used to them i personally think they are cute. in january on sanibel there are more fighting conchs on the beach than people. it can get a tiny bit smelly at the trash line (made up not of garbage, but of mostly sea debris like seaweed, dead crabs and starfish, and thousands of living and empty shells at the high tide mark), especially after a storm.

three body parts are found in a mollusk: the head, the viseral mass, and the foot, which is the muscular end of the body. at the open end of a single shell mollusk (a univalve) the foot can pull in and seal the shell up tight, like a door, against predators. by closing the opening the mollusk also stays moist. without moisture the mollusk will die. this muscle also enables the mollusk to move. mollusks leap (florida fighting conchs are completely docile, but they can leap, so they can appear a bit aggressive, hence the name), hop, pull and dig into the sand.* what sturdy little creatures!

the japanese (who eat absolutely anything from the sea), the french (who love their tiny univalve periwinkle seafood), the italians (who have their specialty dish scungilli marinara made with knobbed whelk) and the caribbean islanders (whose delicacy is the meaty queen conch) seem to eat the most variety of univalve mollusks. if you able to deal with their looks and texture, almost all mollusks can be eaten, but some are tastier than others. of course the most popular ones are the yummy bivalves commonly found in restaurants: clams, mussels, and oysters. ed and i ate some of the biggest, freshest oysters we have ever had on sanibel. delicious!

*this information found in man and mollusc.net and oceanic research.org.

thanksgiving in maine

happy thanksgiving! here are 3 non-traditional maine thanksgivings i have heard about over the years: 40 guests, which required 3 ovens (2 of the ovens belonged to the host family, 1 oven they borrowed from a neighbor who was out of town); a meal which consisted of entirely maine game meat (wild turkey, deer, moose); a thanksgiving meal held outdoors (brrrrr) on 2 pinic tables put together to form 1 long table (actually, now that i think of it, that's probably as traditional as you can get, since the pilgrims, on that first thanksgiving, ate outdoors).

anyway, at our home in maine, we have 1 oven, 1 (23.83 pound) domestic vermont turkey, and an indoor table. how boring. the stuffed turkey is about to go in the oven, the apple tart and goodies are baked, the pumpkin-carrot-potato soup is simmering, and the silver is polished and gleaming. the table just needs to be set, potatoes require peeling, and then we are well on our way to making this feast a reality. naturally, there are always all the last minute preparations still to be done: uncorking wine, making gravy, lighting a fire in the fireplace, and so on.

i love AFTER thanksgiving almost as much as turkey day itself. homemade thanksgiving sandwiches (bits of turkey, cranberry sauce, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy....all piled on crusty bread, which we first discovered at the mom and pop store down the road);  home-made turkey soup; and leftover pie...for breakfast! sometimes i think all this food tastes better the next day....

but back to today. i am giving thanks for what i see right here in front of me: a husband, a son, a daughter, a mum, a dad, a turkey, 2 dogs, tons of food, a roof over our heads, and ALSO for the family and friends who are not right here in front of me....you get the idea. this is a day for good food, good conversation and, quite simply, togetherness. let's get to it.....