A Philadelphia Night Out

When we went to Han Dynasty for my birthday, CPM and I both were quite taken with the idea of getting a punch bowl for the table, and were rather surprised by the lack of recommendation our server gave us on that front...basically they told us not to do it, so we didn't. But the idea of drinking some kind of alcoholic beverage out of a punch bowl was not to float away on the river of our lives like a loose stick from a low hanging tree. Nope. CPM and I made an alternative plan. I knew that the scorpion bowl at Sampan was pretty delightful and so I suggested we go there, which is just what we did. We originally thought we'd just wing it and sit at the bar, but mid-day Friday we corresponded and decided that a reservation was probably not the worst idea...which was entirely true, as the bar was pretty solidly packed when we got there around 7:30. We were seated and quite enjoyed perusing the menu. Though I've been to Sampan a few times, it had been quite a bit of time, so many of the things of the menu appealed. In the end CPM and I chose a nice array of plates to share. For example, these 'wonton crab tacos,' which came with avocado, cilantro and pickled shallot. The crab salad element was good in portion size and delicious.

We also ordered the hamachi ceviche, which really is just a really delightful spoonful of magic. The dish usually comes three spoons to a plate, but the server suggested we add a fourth so there would be no bloodshed. A good call indeed.

These were Korean fried chicken skewers. Succulent. Hot. So GOOD.

We also ordered the "Philly Cheese Steak," which you can see in the far left corner...honestly this was the dish that was the least successful or pleasing. I'd give it a pass.

Our server did at first suggest that we didn't need a punch bowl in our lives...but after much deliberation, we chose to have one anyway.

Kobe beef skewers were unbelievably tender and while they had a bit of sauce/external flavor, the meat itself was pretty well and good magic on its own.

Do not doubt us, Sampan server, we will order and finish a punch bowl. Don't you worry about us none.

After that it was still relatively early in the evening, so we walked west in Center City. I was quite shocked to see that a.bar, which I tried to go to with Huckleberry back in the summer, was pretty much entirely empty. So we went on in there and enjoyed two delightful cocktails that will go unnamed because I can't seem to find the drink menu on the establishment's website. They also had a pretty neat-o looking oyster bar option. While we only had a drink, I would definitely suggest to those staying in the Philly area that they check this place out far more than I'll be able to do in my dwindling days in the city.

We then made a few more stops in our night, including a cocktail at Tank Bar and getting to McCrossen's just in time to see the Eagles not quite make it through the playoffs. A lovely evening with a fun friend. I liked that we balanced our evening so that we stopped in at a variety of locations, some more familiar than others. The night was, of course, a late one. And I could never do that sort of thing with any true frequency, but such evenings always remind me of just how much of Philadelphia is still a mystery to me, even after six years.

Happy Hour c/o Fare and Gingerbread Madness c/o The Green Room

CPM and I made plans to hang at some point a few weeks back. This was pre-holiday times. We decided to check out the happy hour options at Fare. I tried the "Really Clean Martini," which was made with citron vodka and white grape juice. It was a tad too sweet for me and mainly tasted like grape juice.

We shared the truffle fries, which were good.

It was their mushroom flatbread that won as far as food that we enjoyed.

After happy hour we decided to do one more stop before going our own ways. And that stop was the Green Room. There we had some beers - they had Youngs Double Chocolate Stout on tap, which I just couldn't say no to. The bar was having a bit of a holiday fete, with complimentary food and treats on a few tables. We didn't really try the food, but when a gingerbread house competition was announced, we did want a piece of that action. Problem is...we didn't do a very good job. Our pre-formed house parts had serious cracks in them that the icing simply wouldn't keep together. We tried and tried to get our walls to stay up and to put a roof on them, but it just wasn't to be. So, instead, we went with a slightly different approach. At some point CPM declared that we had made a Tiger Woods...in that he was standing on a pile of destruction of his own making. Below you can see our Tiger (with candy cane golf club) and one of our competitors' far more successful constructions in the background. While we tried to plead our case to the judges, we were awarded nothing.

And here we are at the end of the evening. Good times. I'm wearing a scarf that B. gave me for Christmas and earrings my father gave me for my birthday. Gifts!

Birthday Dinner c/o Le Diplomate

When we established that we were going to spend the holidays in the Maryland/D.C. area there was the matter of a birthday dinner. Dad and I talked a bit about it at K. and A.'s wedding and then I began my research stage to consider the options. At first I was limiting myself only to the Silver Spring/Wheaton/Rockville area, but the conversation with Dad made me broaden it somewhat. I considered this Top Chef guy's place, but honestly the reviews were a bit mixed on Yelp. And I don't take Yelp very seriously, but if the overall message is 'some of the food was really good, but it was kind of weird and service wasn't awesome,' you still need to ask yourself if it's worth the hassle. I did think that a French meal of some kind would please me and also be in Dad's comfort zone, so I began honing in on French restaurants in the D.C/MD/VA vicinity. In the end, and not without at least a little Facebook input, I suggested we try a reservation at Le Diplomate. This is a relatively new restaurant in D.C. and is actually part of the Stephen Starr umbrella. Stephen Starr has a definite stake and reputation in the Philly area as one of the 'big-time' restauranteurs. I have not been to all his establishments, but I have been to a hand full. And whatever the formula is, they generally seem to work. Le Diplomate certainly did. Due to not planning many more weeks in advance, the only available times were either around 5 or 10 PM. Dad went with the earlier of the options, which I think was a very good idea. I started off the meal with a pamplemousse cocktail, which I can't find on the website to more fully tell you about. From my own recollection it did the balance between sweet and tart quite excellently. Refreshing but not cloying, with just a little effervescence in the mix.

I will admit that the lighting in the restaurant was better for the actual moode and place than for the photographs I tried to take. They also had very neat/old school tiled bathrooms with sinks that one child I encountered called "really cool." So please forgive the photographs, is really what I'm saying. So the Starr restaurants, I think the thing that really is down to a science is how to put together a relatively effective and professional team. Our server never got flustered by our delays in actually making a decision about the meal, laughed at our jokes, asked the right questions and knew most of the answers to ours. Basically I have zero complaints about the service. Though I will say that we pretty much stumped one newer employee when we asked for more detail about some of the accompaniments to our first round of dishes. But when he didn't know the answer he made the effort to go find out and come back, so that was nice.

I debated on what exactly I would order quite a lot in the days and hours leading up to this meal. I had a few concrete ideas but didn't know what combination would make the most sense. In the end I showed very little restraint. Here is the foie gras parfait...this was the fluffiest, spreadiest, heaven-on-earthiest of foies that I've had in quite some time. The thick toast and fennel aigre doux were the perfect texture and flavor to accompany this rich piece of manna. Seriously good stuff.

I also couldn't resist the frissee salad with duck confit, poached egg and potatoes. Variations of this salad have been my favorite for quite a number of years. The way the yolk mixes in with the existing dressing just makes a magic meal, especially if you add duck into the equation.

Then there was the deliberation of what to actually eat. Ultimately I chose to go with the roasted scallops with red wine salsify, truffle sabayon and black trumpet mushrooms...as well as what I recall as being some kind of legume or potato? I kind of forget that detail. I thought the scallops were well prepared and executed though I thought they were perhaps just a tad salty...that might actually be a reaction to my father's dissatisfaction with the grilled loup de mer he ordered, which he found too salty. His dish did come with tapenade, so perhaps it should have been expected. Meanwhile when I tried his dish I thought it wasn't that salty and, in fact, though my own dish was moreso. Dad didn't agree on his own comparison testing. In the end I wasn't too bummed about the salt level and was pleased with the tenderness of the scallop and the savory elements of its rich butter sauce magic topping.

We had this wine with our entrees.

Above, the photoshopped version. Below, the original. It's bascially like I did nothing, except I spent 15 minutes trying to do something. Alas. The main change is that Dad's country terrine and lettuce accompaniment turned a very different set of colors. Blue lettuce is de rigeur, don't ya know?

We opted for coffee and Armagnanac instead of dessert, in large part because we did have a secondary appointment for the evening and I felt that we were going to be too late if we had any additional courses. When we exited the restaurant we both took a moment before looking around for cabs, and during those moments I noticed a guy standing a few feet away that looked vaguely familiar. After a few surreptitious glances, we met eyes and I finally just asked him if his name was H., which it was, and he asked me if I was me, which I am. H. and I went to high school together! I was quite amused by this random run-in and asked whether we could have a photograph taken in order to prove that it ever happened. Dad and I were both a little punchy, so this is actually the photograph that he took for us. H. is pretty tall and clearly Dad's main goal was getting the sign in the photo. Still, a funny ending to a great meal. 

Big thanks goes out to Dad for the birthday dinner!

Cocktail and Lobster Two Ways c/o Route 6

When you've got a good thing going on, it's not insensible to really commit to it. In this instance, LW and I had a good thing going on as far as going to Route 6 on Thursdays to take advantage of their October Lobster Month. A week after our first visit, we returned with the best of intentions and a bit of a menu game plan. I hadn't determined the cocktail I would enjoy, but once seated I was drawn to the Ward 8, which is Bulleit Rye with orange, lime and house made grenadine, as well as preserved cherry magic times. It wasn't too sweet, though you might think it would be.

We had determined before our arrival that we'd check out the fried mini lobster tails with green tabasco aioli. I think we were both rather surprised by how mega the mini tails were. Far more meat than expected. Also, they somehow lightly breaded and fried both the tail meat and the tail shell, which actually made the shells themselves edible, which I enjoyed. I learned from my father the habit of occasionally eating a shrimp - tail and all - at some point in my life, so I was at first unsure whether it could be done, but found that it was. My only complaint was that the aioli didn't have much of a green tabasco major note for me. The sauce is certainly milder than original, but it still has a wee bit of heat in its original form, which was lacking in the dipping sauce.

LW decided to try the buttery lobster roll, while I decided to try the 2 pound lobster, but wood grilled instead of steamed. While this lobster was apparently larger than the last, the grilling technique somehow made it seem like there wasn't as much meat. Also, the smaller legs, which when steamed give a certain pleasure when sucked, were far less satisfying. That sounded rather dirty. My point is that the steamed lobster from the week before, I was able to suck a little lobster juice and the occasional teeny bit of actual meat from the legs. In the grilled form the legs were liquid free and not especially compelling. And because it was split, I also found the tail meat not to be as succulent. In fact, the most apt adjective I think would fit would be 'mushy,' which, you know, isn't really what anyone wants in a lobster tail, half off or not. So my conclusion from this experience was to never order a lobster wood grilled again. While there were a few minor 'misses' here as far as how my preparation choices led to a less moist and delicious lobster, the deal was still good and I was glad for the meal out.

Meeting a Reader Over Drinks and Snacks c/o The Dandelion

A few months back one of the blog's readers reached out to me about her impending arrival in the States. Huckleberry has been occasionally commenting on the blog for at least two or three years, though perhaps closer to four. And I've always gotten a kick out of the fact that she's a reader whom I never actually met in real life. It feels, on the whole, like I'm writing this blog mainly for myself and for those who already know me and like to see themselves turn up in the narrative from time to time. So to have any readers who aren't related to me or know me in some other context, is very neat. Well, Huckleberry finally made it to the States and so we determined a day and place to meet up in real life. My first suggestion was A.Bar, but when I got there a little early the space was entirely packed and I didn't really want to stand awkwardly in a crowd while trying to talk to a new person. So when Huckleberry appeared I suggested we try The Dandelion Pub instead. It, too, was certainly crowded, but not to the point where we weren't able to get a table.

I was drawn to the Nosey Parker cocktail, which included Bulliet Rye, grapefruit, Campari,
basil, and Peychaud's. Huckleberry went for the Pimm's. I liked my cocktail with its tart grapefruit notes and the slight bitterness of campari evened out by the sweet rye. Good stuff. I think Huckleberry seemed pleased with her drink as well.

I also ordered a snack of the curried crab, cod and chili cakes, which came with a little ramekin of malt vinegar mayo.

Definitely crispy on the outside and more interesting than many a fried fish ball on the inside. I think I would have appreciated having four instead of three as the serving size, but such is life. Huckleberry had the....hmmm. I think it was the pickled beet root jar? Or olive tapenade? Memory is such a fickle thing.

I joked a bit about not wanting to be murdered by a stranger because it is an odd thing. Huckleberry seems to be a non-crazy, interesting person and I'm glad of that, but one never knows. While on the whole I realize that this blog is a vanity project, it's still a vanity project that is open to the public. I'm not too personal or revealing, but Huckleberry definitely knew more about my life than I did hers. And that's par for the internet course. There are plenty of folks whom I follow on one social media channel or another that, if I were to meet them in person, would know barely anything about me but I could be a wealth of creepy knowledge on. That was a terrible sentence. What I'm trying to say is that it was nice to meet Huckleberry and to hear more about her journey and to be assured she wasn't a murderer. And that I hope if I ever meet any of the people I follow from afar, they also realize that I am interesting and not a murderer. Murder is so not 'in' right now y'all.

A big thank you to Huckleberry for reaching out and braving public transportation for a meet-up. And an even bigger one for the drinks and meal!

Cocktails, Soup and Sandwich c/o Lemon Hill

While I was on my lake trip my cat was predominantly fed and taken care of by my roommate, but I had also reached out to CPM about possibly covering a day or two when the roommate would be elsewhere. She and her hubby also had plans to go out of town and had asked me if I would watch over Brutus the dog during their absence. So she had a set of my keys and I needed hers and we hadn't seen each other in a while. It was decided we could do a key exchange and catch up at Lemon Hill, and that is what we did. LW also joined us. I got there first and ordered the happy hour beverage of the evening: a traditional dacquiri that I enjoyed.

I was also attracted to their chilled tomato sou (not gazpacho) with bacon croutons. Let me tell you a thing or two about this soup. Thing 1: it was delicious and so freshy fresh in its tomato-ness, but somehow clearly not a gazpacho. Thing 2: bacon croutons are the new everything-that-is-right-with-the-world.

I then deliberated between two different cocktails for a second drink and ultimately asked the bartender to choose between two options. Oh man and I can't remember either of their names and the restaurant's website cocktail list doesn't seem to reflect their most recent summer menu changes. I'll tell you what, it was tasty? I'm useless.

I was also very attracted to the roasted chicken sandwich with bacon, fried green tomatoes, and smoked tomato creme fraiche.The fries weren't all that interesting but the sandwich itself with its thick but toasty bread hit just the right spot.

It was a lovely evening with good company in an establishment that never fails to please.

Beer and Friends

Weekend before last I met up with BC and a gaggle of folks in South Philly for an outdoor IPA beer event hosted by Hawthorne's. It was a nice and warm day full of familiar faces. I had a few beers all more hoppy than I truly care for, but the company made up for the ways the beer may have suffered. LS and her bf came in, as did JB and J from Brooklyn and Mr. Ass from the country.

I'm pretty sure I asked them to act like they were friends in this photo (they've known each other since elementary school if I understand their history correctly).

Friends.

In one of my beers I found a volunteer bit of protein. I chose to take a photograph instead of consuming it.

BC recently bought a house, so when it began to seem like rain was imminent we made our collective way to her new digs, which are already fantastic and will only become more so once all her rehabbing is complete.

Photographs were taken.

Freshly made pizza was made and consumed.

And then I went on a date with a stranger from the internet. It went okay.

Happy Hour Drinks and Eats c/o Lemon Hill

Glimpses of CPM in my life have become a rare thing as a result of her educational commute and overall busy-ness of life. I believe the last time we met up it was at the Tria Wine Room (which has since closed), and that was months ago indeed. True as that is, there is still a friendship and a fondness between us and we managed to identify a day and time for a nice get-together that would work for both of our schedules. Unsurprisingly, a good visit with her on a Thursday not so long ago was the result. When bandying about possible meet up spots, it was decided that it was finally time for her to enjoy the Lemon Hill happy hour experience. As far as happy hours go, Lemon Hill's may not be for the cheapskates. They do have a discount on a chosen cocktail as well as draft beers and house wines, but this isn't the place to go if you're looking for a couple of drinks and food to come under the $20 mark. It's likely that McCrossen's may remain my primary 'neighborhood bar' due to the dart history and familiarity I have with the spot...but Lemon Hill is coming in a very close second as far as overall pleasure in its atmosphere, clientele, draft list, food and staff. I stuck with white wine for the evening, but CPM tried the happy hour cocktail and we split a few different tasty treats. I was very keen on her trying the fried cheese curds, which didn't disappoint though they weren't quite as melty-on-the-inside as past visits. The long hot vinaigrette remained a delightful accoutrement.

I also recommended the patty melt, which I think lived up to the hype.

We also tried the gruyere pierogies with tempura fried sauerkraut and pastrami bites. Definitely an upscale version of what can be a very utilitarian dish and even more satisfying for the added class.

It's always lovely to see CPM and this evening was no exception. It was also nice to see familiar faces behind the bar and even in the clientele (one older couple wouldn't remember me but we once had wonderful conversation at Rembrandt's during a Kentucky Derby years and years ago and it was good to see that they're still out and about...and that the lady still brings her knitting to bars).

Conch Salad on Harbour Island c/o Conch Queen

Monday was a sunnier and warmer day all around so I decided to check 'visit Harbour Island' off my to-do list (because when you have six unstructured days all your own, it's best to have at least some small goals even if they are mainly to lie down or swim). To get to Harbour Island you have to drive north on Queen's Highway, a two-lane highway with no shoulder or dotted line that runs the length of the island. You drive past the N. Eleuthera airport and go a couple more miles to a dock that is the launch point for ferries to Harbour Island. The construction work they had been doing has moved forward since my last visit. What was a gravel parking lot is now paved and lined. The little bench area where we sat before getting on the ferry was gone. I remember getting a lot of bug bites by that bench. There's a definite unpredictability to just when the ferries are going to go across. These are really just what seems to be maybe two to four boats that can fit about 10-12 folks at a time, so I think they don't want to waste the gas unless the majority of the spots are filled. The folks using the ferry are a mix of tourists like me who are taking a day trip to the far more expensive and fancy island, and Eleuthera locals who are commuting to the island for work.  On my way over I probably sat on the boat for 10 or 20 minutes until more people showed up. On the way back there was already a critical mass so I felt like I 'just made it,' though really another ferry probably would have come along in 20 or 30 minutes. Probably. The ride itself is probably 5-10 minutes. Nothing epic. The wind will whip your hair, and there aren't a lot of things to hold on to to keep your balance when things get a little bumpy, which resulted in my putting my camera away soon after leaving the dock...I would have been pretty bummed if I or my camera went overboard.

I did have a pretty set idea of what I wanted to do with my afternoon on the island and it began with getting conch salad at Queen Conch, which was on the bay-side of the island just maybe a quarter plus of a mile walk along Bay Street. I got there at 11:45 and while the kitchen was open, the conch salad was made by a different set of folks who hadn't yet come in. The lady at the counter said they'd probably arrive around noon, so I took a beer that I had bought at the beer store across the way and sat down on their deck to pass the time. It was windy and a bit brisk, but the sun was staying put and I didn't mind...not with a beer in hand and mystery novel to read.

There was some rigamarole when it came to the salad. Just in terms of more and more folks started showing up also asking for the salad. Noon came and went and the conch salad preparers still hadn't arrived but more and more people were appearing. I began to get a little territorial and edgy since I had been the first to arrive. The system - it turned out - is you write your name down and what level of spiciness you want your salad and they go down the list, making the salad in front of you. Once they arrived I did have to get a little aggressive about making sure it was determined that I would get served earlier since I had been there before any of the others had arrived. Perhaps this pushiness led to my not getting the salad made in front of me, but that was fine since I had a fine view nonetheless. I ordered the exotic conch salad, which included mango and green apple and perhaps one other fruit. I liked it very much. I asked for it medium but it definitely had a kick that I enjoyed. Made the Kalik beer taste faintly of bananas but good other than that.At $12 it was a pretty good deal, especially for the islands where everything is just crazy expensive. Everything was so fresh. The conch were tender and not too chewy. The fruit tempered some of the spiciness of the jalepeno and whatever special sauce they use. Just so good. In retrospect I should have made a point of having more salad throughout my trip.

So one funny thing that happened was that I noticed this couple at Queen Conch also ordering the conch salad, and my main thought was simply that I wanted to make sure I got mine before they did because they came after me. Selfish, I know. And that is what happened. We were sitting on opposite sides of the counter so we didn't really interact. Then I paid my bill and began walking toward the Atlantic side of the island in order to enjoy the view, get some sun and have a fancy cocktail or two. The main area of Harbour Island is Dunmore Town, and it doesn't seem very big, yet its streets aren't entirely intuitive so while I thought I knew how to get to the Pink Sands Resort, I found myself slightly turned around at one point. This was generally fine by me, it was a sunny day and there are plenty of very cute houses to covet. But at that same point this couple came around a corner and since I think they recognized me from the Queen Conch experience/just took pity on the poor girl walking around a little lost, they offered me a ride. Harbour Island's main mode of transportation is golf carts, so this was a ride in a golf cart. I was happy to take them up on it and so we sped off, the husband mentioning he just needed to make one stop before dropping me off, which was of course totally a-ok with me. As we put put putted down a small lane, passing multiple roosters as well as a school with plenty of kids outside playing, we had the usual conversation folks have on vacation. You know, exchanging home locations, asking how their trip has been thus far etc. Well, in our case it took about three steps in this standard conversational gambit to realize that their sons went to George School...the same high school that I also attended! It's not a big school and most of us who went there generally recall it fondly, so it was quite a funny coincidence. Their kids were younger than me, so we hadn't overlapped but it was still fun to exchange impressions of the school and how it has changed over the years. I was so tickled I asked if I could take a photograph of them in front of my destination, which they didn't find too odd thankfully.

Pink Sands is where L. and I ended up going to lunch last year during our Harbour Island day. My plan was to just have a cocktail or two and then spend a little time on the beach before going on to Sip Sip for an additional snack. Pink Sands' grounds are extensive and slightly maze-like. I should have snooped more, but I felt like it would be better simply to make my way to their Blue Bar.

I so enjoyed the lemon daquiri from the previous year that I didn't even consult a menu when I went up to the bar to place my order. Very quickly, this beauty was in front of me and I was sitting and just looking out on the Atlantic. Shabby it was not.

After a bit of cocktail time (drinks cost more than my conch salad), I took to the beach.

And after a bit of beach time, I walked my way to Sip Sip. I had heard about it when L. and I were planning our trip last year, but we decided not to check it out though I don't recall why exactly. I ended up sitting at the bar and ordering their gazpacho and a pineapple chili margarita.

This was definitely a hip and happening spot. The woman next to me and I started a conversation and she had a few recommendations about the food, one of which was the lobster quesadillas. They sounded amazing but at $48 a plate, a little too rich for my blood. The gazpacho was solid, I especially liked the more roughly chopped bits of cucumber and tomato that at first settled to the bottom of the cup before I stirred it up a bit. The drink was also quite good, the pineapple and spice elements in a good balance.

After lunch I strolled back towards the docks, enjoying the sunny ambiance and cacophonous sound of roosters crowing.

Roosters in these parts were very very protective of their lady chickens. I envied them the attentions. Ha.

Once back on Eleuthera I had a very simple plan: buy a beer and go drink it before snorkeling at Gaulding's Key. Don't worry while it seems like I'm a total lush, I was in fact pacing myself. Gaulding's Key is, compared to some of the beaches on the island, a breeze to get to. There's a sandy not-too-terribly-bumpy road you go down that doesn't have as many twists and turns as others, but you still end up on a beautiful strip of beach with very few others. This first visit found two young Polish couples and one slightly older couple from Maine. I decided to wait on the beer and first go into the water to see some fishes. One of the Polish dudes suggested I go to the far back side because that's where the hippest and most happening of fish could be found.

So that little island is where I was headed. The majority of the way out there was made up of sandy bottomed walking; it stays shallow for quite some time before dropping off. I stayed on the left side/closest to the beach of the island because I suddenly realized that while there were other folks on the beach, they weren't paying attention to me/wouldn't notice if I went around the back-end and never came back. Maybe they would have noticed eventually, but not for a while. And this is a strange fear. Sensible, but limiting. I'm a good swimmer, the waters were extremely peaceful and while yes, there is always the possibility of a shark or some such beast to be in the waters, the statistical chances of actually being attacked are pretty low. So if I wasn't prone to drowning, and I wasn't actively afraid of sharks, why would it bother me if no one was there to notice me disappear...when I wasn't going to disappear? It's a circular line of thought I went through multiple times throughout the trip when I'd want to do something and I'd start to do it but then I'd start to worry about myself. Self-preservation without real threat. It was kind of weird. All to say that because I didn't go to the far side of the island I didn't see that large a selection of fish. It was still a good swim, and I definitely saw a bunch of very small little fish, but I knew that with a little more gusto I could have seen more. No matter. It was all still very delightful on the whole. I took some photographs with an underwater camera at multiple spots...all of which turned out pretty poorly at least in their printed forms, but I'm wondering if I can perk them up with photoshop.

When I first arrived at Tamarind Cottage Kimy, the Proprietress, asked me if I wanted any of the foodstuffs that her sister had left behind during her visit. This was a mix of stuff, including preseasoned and frozen ground beef. I figured that couldn't hurt, especially since I had also bought a small jar of tomato sauce. Additionally, Terry had pointed out all the 'volunteer' cherry tomato plants that grew all over the property thanks to wild chickens eating tomatoes in one spot and depositing their digested seeds elsewhere. And there were also some impressive potted basil plants at the back of the cottage, so I decided my dinner on this particular evening would be spaghetti with the beef from Kimy's sister mixed with a bit of tomato sauce and made even more special with the addition of freshly chopped cherry tomatoes and basil.

A very nice way to end the first of my sunnier days on Eleuthera.