Road Trip! Adirondacks Again

Once a year, Leah and I jump off the grid and land in the middle of nowhere in the Adirondacks for a week. The fall is a quiet time up in them there hills, with no screaming mosquitos or buzzing children to bother us.

Our adventures this year brought us into close proximity to merganzers, ruffed grouse (grouses? grice?), an angry pileated woodpecker, red squirrels, old growth pine trees and Lake Placid Ubu Ale. Rich and malty, this dark red beer tasted great with a bleu cheese burger and eggplant parm from the Adirondack Mountain Grill in Indian Lake.

Back at the cabin, we drank a lot of Heron Hill Chardonnay, plus one of Leah's birthday gifts from bartender Melissa, Westmalle Dubbel Belgian Trappist Ale, which paired delightfully with sourdough bread and cheddar cheese.

Ironically, a hike in the Finger Lakes National Forest yesterday brought us into close proximity with a moaning black bear. OK, we didn't see the bear directly and I'm not sure the park ranger believed us, but the only other thing that could have been making that hair-raising noise is a zombie, and I doubt a zombie would want to hang out in the forest since human brains are scarce. What, you don't believe me either? Go to this site on bears and scroll to the last sound clip. If what we heard wasn't a bear, then from what I can tell from my extensive (five minutes of) web research, Bigfoot is hiding out in the Hector's National Forest. You heard it here first.

Speaking of birthdays, Felicia Atomic Lounge turns 5 years old tomorrow. What is that in human years?

The Chicken BBQ Phenomenon - Week 4

Like Ithaca, Burdett is only 15 minutes from Trumansburg, but being in Schuyler County, it is worlds away. Going to Burdett is sort like falling backwards in time into 1950's small town America where there isn't even the need for a traffic light, unless you count the flashing one. I spent about five minutes taking pictures of the Chicken BBQ at the Burdett Fire Station last Saturday, wandering amongst the firemen, taking photos of them drinking their 10am beers. Oddly, not one of them acknowledged my presence. I was strangely invisible to them, a visitor from a future, more progressive world.
The women at the Grist Mill Cafe could relate to my alien experience. Directly across the street from the Burdett Fire Station, the Grist Mill is one of Ithaca's best kept secrets, probably because it is not in Ithaca. The Grist Mill is a wonderful little cafe with their own fresh-baked bread and the best hazelnut coffee in the world. They serve breakfast and lunch Tuesday-Saturday with a bunch of vegetarian options; I recommend the apple reuben and a side of their cous-cous salad. The croc-wearing Grist Mill gals told me that in the few years they have been open, only one fireman has dared to venture across the street and into their amazing cafe. And you thought firemen were brave.
The Grist Mill Cafe sure beats redneck chicken BBQ. The Grist Mill is so good that I want to share it with you, and so good that I don't want to share it with you so I can keep it all to myself. Shhhhh...it'll be our little secret.

One final note: the fresh local rhubarb for Felicia's Rhubarb Martini came from Deb, the owner of the Grist Mill. Thanks, Deb!

The Chicken BBQ Phenomenon - Week 3

As I drove out of Trumansburg last Saturday morning, I left the smell of at least three chicken BBQs behind me. Eager to explore the Chicken BBQ Phenomenon on the road, I did not pause to take pictures.

On the outskirts of Ithaca, I passed one Chicken BBQ, in Richford. Then, oddly, there was nothing. The small towns we drove through on Routes 79 and 206 were strangely devoid of greasy-fingered townies with greasy smiling faces. Apparently the BBQ Phenomenon had not reached these here country parts.

And then we arrived in Bainbridge, where a big truck was grilling a BBQ outside of a church. I did not venture inside where the grub was being served up on aluminum-wrapped paper plates. I asked the acne-clad boy at the grill, where did the Chicken BBQ Phenomenon come from? "It's an upstate thing," he said. When asked who the fundraiser was for, he said, "Some church thing." A young man of few words, yet so poignant.

The cute young girls who look to be about 14 years old in the picture below? Um, those are the moms. Apparently country girls look more youthful than the rest of us. Must be the water in Bainbridge.

Road Trip! Finger Lakes Distilling

A still! Right in our own backyard, and a legal one to boot. Brian McKenzie, president of Finger Lakes Distilling in lil ol' Burdett, NY invited Leah and I for a private tour of his new distillery which will hopefully be open to the public this spring.

We were greeted by a massive, shiny copper still, a wagging dog, liquor fumes and a guy with a molasses-like, Alabama drawl who identified himself as Thomas McKenzie, no relation to Brian, which we had guessed by his accent. The distillery had 60 foot hight ceilings, big and little barrels of aging whiskey and brandy, looming storage containers and a long trough filled with mash. Seeing how New York is a bit short on distilleries, this was my first time seeing mash. Cool. This is where my booze comes from.

These guys are going to be our new best friends. Seriously. They let us taste some of their liquid treasure and boy howdy was it good. We got to sample their gin, rye whiskey, new catawba brandy and aged brandy. That's right. I said catawba, as in Vitus labrusca, the crappy upstate New York grape used to make sweet party-girl wines like Hazlitt Winery's Red Cat, and now used to make phenomenal liquor. I think we tried something else, too, but the memories are all swirling together now.

Was it good hooch? Cousin, it rocked our world. And we're pretty fussy bitches. The gin was delicately floral and smooth as silk. So smooth, in fact, that it could be a sipper, no ice necessary. How many gins can claim that quality? The rye whiskey went kaboom on our palates. Heavy with flavor and almost peaty, Leah drank more than her fair share of it (the whiskey was heavy and peaty, not Leah). The young catawba brandy was as clear as water and had a sweet edge reminiscent of cachaca. When I tasted the caramel-colored two-year-old brandy, I ran off with the half-full tasting glass and hid behind a big barrel so I would not have to share. I'm not making that up. It was pure heaven, like an expensive special-occasion-only cognac. Also in the works but not available for tasting that day were vodka, wild berry vodka and various brandies including apple maple and walnut honey.

Brian and Thomas are going to do great on the Seneca Lake Wine Trail, which can now also be referred to as the Corn Trail. They are true locavores, growing their own grapes and purchasing all of their grains in New York State; an ancient farmer and his wife dropped by while we were there to show Thomas some of their grain. Mother nature permitting, they plan to grow their own herbs, too. Finger Lakes Distilling is slated to open in late spring, and we definitely will carry their liquor at the Lounge and make some original Finger Lakes cocktails with it, provided we don't drink it all ourselves.

Road Trip! The Commons

Ok, it wasn't really a road trip. More of a sidewalk trip. The Commons is a portion of Ithaca's State Street that was cemented over in the 1970's to make a pedestrian mall, in theory, to increase traffic to hip, local small businesses. It is a short, four-block stroll from Felicia's Atomic Lounge.

In its heyday, The Commons was THE place to hang out on a sunny day. You could get a half-moon cookie or cafeteria-style lunch from Home Dairy, peruse quirky handmade stuff at People's Pottery, buy a pair of cowgirl boots at Leather Express, and purchase a new houseplant to kill from The Plantations. Now it seems to be mostly depressingly empty storefronts, with just a few cool businesses left like Volume Records, Taste of Thai and Autumn Leaves Bookstore. The city of Ithaca wants to pay a consultant $250,000 to come up with a new design for The Commons next year. This doesn't include any construction. Why spend a quarter of a million dollars to come up with ideas to redesign a pedestrian mall filled with empty store fronts? They should lower the rent or forget about it. I'll take my $250K in small bills, please.

Back to the food. Brotchen is one of the current gems on The Commons that is worth checking out. Brotchen is a German-Austrian bakery/specialty shop that opened a little over a year ago. I can't say the name. Don't ask me to. If you are looking to get fat, this place is for you. The glass cases are filled with beautifully crafted desserts (I recommend the apple strudel), and you can get a cappuccino or tea to accompany your sweet treat. If you want to grab-and-go, there are a bunch of pre-made sandwiches with meaty German-looking meat and hearty cheeses.

Above you will see the make-me-drool photo of their kickass chili, which was a generous enough portion that I got to eat it for lunch the next day, too. Brotchen, will we see you at the Ithaca Chili Fest this February? Leah got a big bowl of cheesy-something soup. Ok, I can't remember all the details, so you should just go try it for yourself. Brotchen is the perfect lunch spot, and one of those places that makes you feel like you are out-of-town, maybe even in Europe.

Road Trip! Canandaigua

Restaurant: Rio Tomatlan
Location, Canandaigua, NY
Cuisine: authentic Mexican

Amelia's highlights: Excellent refried beans. The red sauce on the chile rellenos was sweet and smoky. The zingy fresh salsa had an abundance of cilantro. The bartender knew how to make a good margarita when we requested an upgrade.

Amelia's downsides: There were peas in the Spanish-style rice. The tilapia ceviche looked and tasted like tuna salad. The house margaritas were made with bottled margarita mix. An hour's drive to get there.

Mom and Dad's opinion: M & D loved both the house margaritas and the rice. Dad got the same creamy-style chopped chunk tilapia in his tacos that I got in my ceviche and thought it was great.

Score: I would rate Rio Tomatlan 3.5 out of 5 jumping beans.

Road Trip! The Berkshires

I uploaded this photo of Thanksgiving dinner and realized that you don't need teeth to eat most of the items on the plate. Mashed pototoes, mashed turnips, mashed sweet potatoes, cranberry jelly, gravy, stuffing, pumpkin pie. You probably need to chew the turkey, but I'll bet you could get away with barely chewing the cole slaw (who eats cole slaw at Thanksgiving? Now really). Just need a nice bottle of wine (or two) to wash it down. It was a senior citizen's dream meal.

Leah and I trekked to the Berkshires, Massachusetts for our mashed feast this year. We arrived the night before so we could have a little alone time and see what's happening in the culinary scene in the area. We ended up in Great Barrington, one of the hipper towns in this uptight community of NYC whitehead second homes. There we found Allium, a locavore's dream. They didn't have much of a cocktail list to speak of so we partook of Campari and Soda (Allium, call Felicia. We can help you get that fresh local produce into some creative farm-to-glass cocktails).

Leah ordered a lovely farm salad and cod fritters and she liked them both. I started with apple-celery root soup. The soup ended up having cream in it, which means I shouldn't have eaten it, but being a pig and since it tasted soooo good, I sucked in every last drop. This bloated me into a false sense of fullness, so the half order of excellent spaghetti bolognese that followed was plenty. The bolognese had local carrots, kale and fennel as well as neighborhood pork and lamb. Sigh. I hate eating lamb. They are just so cute and fuzzy and innocent looking. And delicious. Two thumbs up for Allium.

Every time we go to the Berkshires, we say at one of those big hotel chains. Every time, they upgrade us to a kick-ass suite for no apparent reason. Every time, we sneak the dog in. (Every time, I leave a big tip for the housekeeper. They must know the dog is with us. How could they not know?) Every time, we have brunch at Martin's in Great Barrington, where you will find the best brunch in the Berkshires. Flavored coffee (pumpkin spice this week), great eggs florentine, and my new favorite, eggs scrambled with grits, cheddar cheese and spinach. Yes, more cheese.

Add in the butter and cream in the Thanksgiving mash, and I am now a big walking itch. Might as well splurge and put some whipped cream on my irish coffee this morning.

Road Trip! Elk Creek Cafe

Recently Leah and I took a road trip to Elk Creek Cafe in Millheim, Pennsylvania for a music festival. "Where is Millheim?" Leah asked. "Must be in the middle of nowhere," I answered. And it was. Twenty-or-so miles from Penn State, Millheim is in the heart of farming country. We awoke Sunday morning to the sound of pigs squealing and the clop-clop of Amish buggies heading to church. Our breakfast at a friend's farm house consisted of sausage, eggs and veggies from their own pigs, chicken and fields. And smack in the middle of Millheim, where all you would hope for is a general store, we found the Elk Creek Cafe and Aleworks.

The Elk Creek Cafe is a bustling, high energy cafe and brewery with locavore bistro-style food and a whole lot of amazing brews on tap. On both Saturday night and Sunday afternoon, the cafe was packed with people who appreciated good music, good food and damn good beer. I sampled every one of the beers from my friends' glasses, and I settled on the Double Rainbow IPA which had a generous amount of hops and a tantalizing fruity aroma (IPA has been my beer of choice these days). Leah, not one to be tied down, danced from beer to beer and enjoyed the Great Blue Heron Pale Ale, Elk Creek Copper Ale and Brookie Brown.

Yes, it is in the middle of nowhere, about a three hour drive from Ithaca. But the Elk Creek Cafe is good enough to be a destination by itself. The cafe has music most weekends, with Ithaca favorites the Horseflies, Hank Roberts and Wingnut all making appearances there in November and December. Local band The Jive Bombers are also a must-see. Need a place to stay? Check out The Three Porches bed and breakfast. And when you go, be sure to bring me back a growler of that IPA.

Road Trip! Brooklyn

We took a wild road trip to Brooklyn last weekend with our band, the Black Eyed Susies. Did we have fun? Let's just say that watching the sunrise in the city is a beautiful thing. Leah and I stayed in Park Slope and after dragging our citygirl a**es out of bed, we got to visit some restaurants in the neighborhood for the most important meal of the day: brunch.

Ithaca is painfully short on brunch spots, so it was a thrill to have so many places from which to choose. Our good friend and fellow musician Jan Bell guided us to Little D's on 7th Ave on Saturday. As a potato pig, I felt a bit unsatisfied with my generic hash browns and soggy toast, but Leah's biscuits with sage-mushroom-sausage gravy were brilliant. On Sunday, we hit up Steinhof's cafe at 7th and 14th Streets for a hearty serving of German sausage and some well-endowed potatoes that really put out, perfect for a potato whore such as myself.

Our band played at two DUMBO establishments: 68 Jay Street Bar and Superfine. We ate dinner twice at Superfine and enjoyed super entrees including Mexican chicken-lime soup, penne with garlic and squash, and my favorite, bucatini with bolognese sauce. We can't report on any cocktails (booze+banjo+bass=bad) but the beer of the weekend was definitely Sugar Hill Ale from the Harlem Brewing Company. It was malty, well-hopped and all around tasty. Highly recommended by each one of the Black Eyed Susies, and those girls know beer.

Road Trip! Adirondacks

Imagine the scene: A lakefront rustic cottage accessible only by boat. Loons, beavers, bald eagles, and the occasional bear sighting. Pure wilderness. One would think that a paddle into the nearby middle-of-nowhere town would find a snack shack or maybe a diner. But instead, the only restaurant for miles is the upscale Lodge on Lake Clear.

The Lodge on Lake Clear in the eastern Adirondacks is owned by husband-wife team Ernest and Cathy Hohmeyer. Cathy's ancestors built the lodge in 1886; Ernest's European family bought it in 1965. Together they fuse fresh Adirondack produce and local game with old world dishes.

Dining at the lodge is more than a meal; it is a whole body experience. Guests start their evening in the "rathskeller", which is German for "I have a selection of 150 rare imported beers in my dark basement where there is a big, stone fireplace and overstuffed chairs." Unable to choose, Leah and I decided to split the smoked beer sampler.

First up was the Saranac Rauchbier. It proved to be a pleasant lager, with only the slightest hint of smoke. Next was the Schlenkerla Rauchbier Maerzen. It was by far the most phenomenal of the beers, and definitely my favorite flavor of the night. This hearty beer had the aroma of smoked bacon with a light fruit flavor in the background (I could have had a few more of these. Would go well with breakfast, too). The last beer was Aventinus Weizen Eisbock. This complex, slightly sweet ice bock tasted of toasted malt and barley and was a great beer with which to wrap up our beer hour.

It was almost disappointing when it was time to leave the rathskeller and venture upstairs for dinner, but the aromas coming from the kitchen quickly made me forget my hesitation. Let me warn you: If you do not eat meat or game, the Lodge is probably not the restaurant for you. You will be happier buying a box of pasta and a jar of Ragu from the nearby general store to take back to your camp. As a recovered vegetarian myself, I overwhelmed myself by ordering the sauerbraten, local beef that was marinated for three days in a crock before being cooked in a wine sauce. It came with killer dumplings. Next time I would try their vegetable strudel.

Leah got the game sampler which came on a loooong platter with cornish hen, quail, and what she referred to as "the most beautiful sausage balls I have ever laid eyes on," which the waitress later told us were made with cute furry woodland critters such as rabbits. The sausage hopped quickly into her mouth. Though the quail was headless, Leah was convinced it was staring at her and for some reason could not bring herself to eat it. This is the problem with eating game: frequently it is served still resembling its natural state in the forest, making you honestly face up to exactly what you are eating. Kind of like frog legs.

Our prix fixe meals also came with hearty beef dumpling soup, salad and a side of fermented red cabbage; appetizers and dessert cost extra. We were too full for dessert, but if we had room for anything else, it would have definitely been more beer. My only complaint of the evening is that the coffee (which we took back down to the rathskeller to drink by the fire) was lukewarm at best, and i prefer mine hot enough to burn the flesh off of my tongue and require asbestos gloves to pick it up. Total cost of the meal: $120 before tip.

While I personally would not consider the Lodge on Lake Clear a destination all by itself (though they do have some fantastic lodging), if you are in the Adirondacks, it is worth at least an hour drive (or paddle) to get there, even if all you did was drink beer in the rathskeller. Remember, it is so dark at night in the Adirondacks that you can't see your beer in front of your face when you are paddling home. Be prepared for some good arguments (-Where the hell are we? -What do you mean where are we? I thought you knew where we were!) and make sure you leave your cottage light on.