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Archive for July 7th, 2012

We’ve been staying in a bungalow on the shores of the bay outside Blue Hill, Maine.  Our cottage is a bit rustic, but with the beautiful scenery and sound of water and the wind through the trees, you quickly adopt a more forgiving attitude toward the world.

No air-conditioning?  No problem!  Open the windows wide and enjoy the fresh air.  Spiders in the shower?  That’s okay, too — just part of the woodsy charm of this place.  Put your wet clothes outside and let Mother Nature dry them for you, leaving a faint scent of salt behind.  There’s no point in hurrying off to dinner, either, not when you can sit on the porch chairs, your feet up on the railing, and have a pleasant, meandering conversation and drink some wine while you watch the boats slip by.

It didn’t take long for the water to work its magic on the big city attitude.  If only we could bottle the relaxed waterfront approach and take it with us, to dole out when the stresses and pressures of work and normal daily life seem to conspire to make every molehill into a mountain!

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One of the great things about Maine is the abundance of absolutely fresh, succulent seafood and shellfish options that you can find on just about any restaurant menu.

Consider, for example, the enticing combination of steamed clams — i.e., “steamers” — and draft beer.  I first developed a taste for steamers and beer when I worked at Alpine Village in Lake George, New York in the summer of 1976.  It’s the perfect after-work bar food combination.  A plate of piping hot steamed clams and bowls of drawn butter and clam broth are put in front of you.  You fish the clams out of their shells and dunk them in the broth and butter, chew and swallow, and wash it all down with cold brew.  The shells then get casually tossed into a refuse bowl.  The process is a bit sloppy and a lot of fun.

These kinds of local food options makes a visit to Maine special.  You can’t get clams and beer in Columbus.  A platter of steamers, some draft Shipyard summer ale, and a Red Sox game on the bar TV lets you know you’re not in Ohio anymore, Toto.

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