Bonfire Times

 A weekend or two back I drove up to Bucks County to hang out with Mr. Ass, P., E., B. and L., as well as - at least briefly - E. and L.'s father. I brought out the fire gloves. Potatoes were baked. A nice evening with good folks and a nice amount of fire tending? My kind of night.

Oysters, Fish Tacos and Fire in Rehoboth and Cape Henlopen Delaware

Happy hour at Fin's is a bit of a competitive sport, or at least that has been the case in my own life. I learned that it's no joke. Folks stake out spots outside a good 15 minutes in advance of the doors opening in order to ensure a spot at the bar. If you're not prompt (or early) the likelihood of your being able to get a seat is low. So the Wednesday for which there is no proof, I made a concerted effort to get there early and still had to deal with a pack of territorial 50-somethings who did not want to be my friend, which was fine because I overheard their conversation and they were boring. In any case, what I didn't realize about Fin's Friday happy hour is that it starts at some other time than 4 PM. So when I rolled up at 3:30 thinking I was totally on target, I found myself to be gravely mistaken; the bar was totally packed and there was no chance I was going to get a prime spot. This meant I was relinquished to the rather awkward second tier, standing bar shelf. Daunted but not doomed, I ordered a beer and a dozen of the happy hour oysters. Happy making they were, though I have to say that none of the two dozen oysters I consumed on this trip left me feeling as satiated or pleased as oysters usually do. I don't think that's the fault of Fin's, just perhaps a reflection of some thing or another in my own universe.

I also decided to try the happy hour fish tacos, as I had noted a few 50-somethings ordering them the last time and they seemed to be very generous in their portions for what was quite a reasonable price. This was a smooth move on my part. The fried white fish (no idea what variety to be honest) was crispy on the outside but moist and flaky on the inside. And the drizzle of sauce and mango-ish (maybe pineapple?) salsa that came with the plate were both right up my alley as well. Good times. I probably would have stayed longer and tried some other dish if it hadn't been for the awkward seating. Next year.

Then I returned back to my campsite. I have a whole rant about a lady who was rude to me/extremely incorrect in her campsite neighborly conduct, but the truth is that if I recounted the story, you probably wouldn't really care and I'd probably somehow turn out to be the asshole. But honestly, I was not the asshole, she was and we should all be thankful I did not write a mean note and leave it on her car's windshield. Instead I enjoyed an evening reading and stoking an unnecessary fire. God I love fire. I bought two bundles and started it before it was even close to being dark, which necessitated a run to the campground firewood shed to buy another bundle. Because I am addicted to flame y'all. Addicted to flame.

I really do love this campground. It's not really remote and some sites are far less awesome than others. This year was not an awesome year. Pretty much any year when I don't get a site around the edges of the grounds ends with too much proximity and not any privacy. It's interesting to me how we all willfully ignore one another, though we can clearly hear most all conversations. For example, I was entirely fascinated by all the activity going on at a site across the way from me where there seemed to be at least three or four young Mennonite couples and a whole slew of kids. Listening to them speak in Low German and laugh and chat while wearing basketball shorts and knock off Raybans was confusing. I had all these questions. Do they use bug spray? Do they use band aids? Are they actually permitted to wear basketball shorts and knock off Raybans? Why do they try to run me off the sidewalk that leads to the beach when I am walking and they are riding bikes? And why don't they apologize when they do so? Are they having sex in those tents? Do they hate their hair cuts? What did they think of the Tom Petty songs I was playing from my car? You know, just questions. Questions to which I will never have the answers because after the bike/running off the road episode, I no longer thought they were friendly Godly types and began to think they were wrathful Godly types. I could, of course, be mistaken on that score. The point is that it's always such an interesting cross-section of folks. Big family groups all speaking a language other than English. Older couples in their souped up RVs. Younger couples and their intense border collies. Extremely weird solo men trying to blow up their air mattresses using said motorcycles way after 'quiet hours' who then turn down the offer of air mattress pumps from granola-esque fathers or wayward kids acting on behalf of their parents. You know, just a funny mix of folks. All enjoying the semi-real experience of outdoor living, only with nearby bathrooms and neighbors probably even closer to them than in their everyday life. It's a mini-city and I like it. I keep hoping I'll somehow stumble across a dude who digs it too and comes on his own or with friends...but usually it's just foreign families, old people and creeps trying to fill their air mattress using a motorcycle. But I love it. These days I go back and forth about whether having kids is as much of a priority for me as it was when I was younger. This may be due to any number of factors, but I do still sometimes envision a life where I do get the opportunity to teach a youngster of my own the glories of setting up and sleeping in a tent, of building a fire, of diving under waves to get to the calmer part of the ocean, of the sheer loveliness of a perfect oyster with just a spritz of lemon. Meh, if I don't have my own I'll just steal the children of my friends for a weekend. At least one of the legion of children that will burst forth from the loins of my collective network would be down. One would assume.

Christmas Drinks and Snacks

Christmas morning met us with many a present under NC Catherine and J.'s tree. To gird our spirits while wading through the process of opening such bountiful array of presents, we enjoyed mimosas.

Many a present was given.

I will allow that perhaps the present that most raised my spirits was this set of fire gloves that NC Catherine gave me. They are going to be super useful on camping trips and when I need to move a particularly stubborn log in any indoor fire. Very pleased was I. So much so I felt the need to point at myself and make this face while still very much in pajama mode.

Dad, opening what I think turned out to be...a jar of cornichons!

NC C. made a lovely breakfast cake with apricot glaze if I recall correctly.

And bacon, of course. After our very thorough and lengthy present opening start to the day, I don't really know what happened. I must have done something? Napped? Read? Can't be sure at this point. Whatever it was, I am sure it was productive and interesting.

As the hours passed J. and I put together two plates of snacks for pre-dinner time social hour with NC C. and J.'s friends the N.s. This involved a cheese platter that included tallegio and delice de bourgogne, and a plate of freshly cut apples and two different kinds of cheesey crackers/straws.

All within spitting's distance to a fire.

Our morning's mimosas were of the cheap-o champers variety...but for the evening we went a classier route.

Egg Sandwich by the Fire

 The weekend before last found me in the country yet again. It was finally cool/chilly enough to rationalize if not totally warrant a fire. And a fire I did stoke throughout the days. I also made this egg sandwich on a Portugese roll.

Egg Sandwich Made Over an Open Fire

At some point in the days leading up to this trip, I became mildly fixated with the idea of cooking myself breakfast over an open fire. Nothing too taxing. No hash browns or sausages. Just eggs and an English muffin. Due to the slightly damp evening I found the task of gathering kindling to be a bit of a challenge, but I eventually got my fire started and stoked. After that I sprayed a little olive oil type stuff onto my cast iron skillet and placed the muffins on the fire as well. The eggs took a little longer to firm up at first, but after prodding the fire a little it was all fine and dandy.

 As a final step I placed two slices of smoked ham on top and called it a success.

I was inordinately pleased about this. Next time I go camping I'm going to try actually cooking a few more things. Cast iron skillets man, they're the tops.

Pre-Memorial Day Barbeque at Cayuga Lake

For Sunday's evening meal, it was time to fire up the grill. Of course, I had nothing to do with firing the grill up, or for any part of this meal really. Other than taking some photographs and heartily enjoying the food itself. The burgers awaiting their moment in the heat.

This green bean salad is deceptively tasty. It looks all simple, but the lemon/pine nut wonder that is the dressing really is just too much deliciousness to talk about. I love green beans to start with. Their crisp snap, the slight sweetness....but add an extra layer of flavor on top and you've gotten something golden. Or greenden.

I think H. prepared the salad.

The meat pile. Burgers, hot dogs, sausages and veggie burgers for the non-carnivores.

There was also warm potato salad, which was no joke either.

Turns out that it was one of H's friend's birthdays. Somehow they managed to make a cake during the day without anyone being the wiser. I thought I had been traipsing in and out of that house with some frequency, and would have noticed if it began mysteriously smelling like chocolate cake. But it turns out that cakes can be stealthy.

The table from another vantage point.

And another lovely fire to round out the evening.

All Sunday I rued the fact that the next day was Monday. While some would simply be thankful for the extra day (and perhaps even capable of taking a moment to remember the actual purpose of Memorial Day), I was already thinking about the inevitable packing up and driving away. It's far less sweet to drive away from the pretty as it is to drive to it, and Sunday was slightly smirched by this inability of mine to completely live in the moment. But by night fall, with a boisterous group, great food and a few brewskies, I was able to just enjoy the evening and save the angst for the next day.

Pizza on the Shores of Cayuga Lake

AS's family knows how to do pizza. In fact, the pizza I enjoyed as a result of their efforts made it to the Best of 2009. So I was glad to learn that Saturday's dinner would be a second opportunity to enjoy their pizza stylings. While AS's mother worked the dough, many of us enjoyed hummus with red peppers and cucumbers. I think later there was a stinky cheese?

The dough, rising. The sausage, browning.

I helped a little as far as putting toppings on the pizza. Or I cut basil and added goat cheese. That's really it.

I think four pizzas were made for the crowd. A nice mix of white and red, vegetarian and not vegetarian.

Mmmmmmm.

Complete with a nice green salad and a white wine. 

And soon after the meal came to a close, a fire came to a beginning.I was so glad to be lucky enough to return to this spot and a great, and often repeated, thank you goes to the whole S. family for being so welcoming!

Chicken Legs, Brussels Sprouts and Leeks

Last weekend I went out to the country to hang out with M. and A.'s dogs Panda and Ella while they were in New York. I knew I wanted to cook myself some food, but I struggled to think of anything all that great. In the end I breaded and baked more chicken drumsticks than I could eat because I couldn't be bothered with dealing with left over raw meat.
The chicken turned out meh, which is what happens when you don't really have a good feeling or excitement about what you're doing. The side dish I made, on the other hand, was quite satisfying: brussels sprouts, leeks, a little bacon and mmmm, tasty time.
Panda and I lay by the fire for most of my stay. It was nice and warm and lovely. Even if I made crappy chicken.

Snow Later On

Just a few more shots of the snow later in the day, still coming down and collecting.
Zul found a spot to sit.
This is usually where you can find me: on the floor by the fire doing something on the computer.

Next Stop, Delaware

A while back I was seeing a whole ton of 30th birthday party photos on Facebook, and it got me jealous. Jealous that I hadn't attended the parties in question, and jealous that I never have parties like that for my birthday because it always falls on or around Thanksgiving, and folks are too busy with their families for that kind of shenanigan. So I decided I was going to throw a faux thirtieth birthday weekend for myself...because if I didn't do it, who would? No one. So I let a whole bunch of people know that this was my intention, and where I would be, and invited them to join me. I actually gave them two opportunities, and that Friday was the beginning of that first opportunity. I drove to Philly, unloaded some stuff and reloaded other stuff (tent, lantern, etc) and then drove out to Cape Henlopen. By the time I got there (not as early as I originally intended), C. and J. and K. and K. and C. were already at the campground. Yeah. I wanted my faux 30th to be held at Cape Henlopen because it is magic there. Once I arrived I put up my tent and had a beer. C. and J. and K. went to the beach, but C. also put up her tent and joined me in the glory that is having a drink or so while the sun is still in the sky. We also bought firewood.
Firewood we turned into a fire. Because I hadn't expected to spend the night in the Hudson Valley, my entire timeline was a little wacky and I hadn't really figured out what any of us would eat that first night. Thankfully C. and K. were better planners than myself, and it is really because of them that we had anything to eat at all.
Mr. Ass arrived later in the evening and contributed S'mores and corn. Well, more corn - I hadn't realized that C. and K. et al had already purchased a few ears at a farm stand on Route 1.
These peppers were especially good.
K. was a bit of a grill master.
We all had a good night of fire sitting, hot dog eating, corn gnawing and bourbon drinking. I'm so glad this group of folks all made it.

Snow Fire

At some point soon after one of the bigger snowfalls, one of my coworkers mentioned that they had seen a house on fire as they had walked to work. I decided to go check it out. From the back you could see that all the windows had been broken, but not a trace of smoke remained.
I wonder whether the fire was entirely contained to the rowhouse in which it started.