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.

Opening Eleuthera Scenes and Giant Moth

My ride to the airport was generally without issue, as it was 5 in the morning on a Saturday and traffic was pretty light. It was still a bit of a shock to see just how many other early risers were preparing themselves for their Jet Blue flights ... there were some serious lines for baggage drop off and security screenings; I was told if I had been 15 minutes later then they would not have allowed me to check my bag, which would have been quite a bit problematic. Jet Blue also has its own terminal at JFK and it was very fancy and hopping even at 6 in the morning. I abstained from any overpriced snack, though I did buy a bottle of water for the ride. As time passed, the sky went from near dark to sun lit to blue and cloudy. 

The flight from JFK to Nassau went pretty well. I made up for the lack of sleep I was able to clock in on Friday night by sleeping through the majority of the four hours in the air. Once in Nassau I went through customs, picked up my baggage (which was not on the labelled carousel for my flight thus causing me to have an almost heart attack about missing my connecting flight to Eleuthera), and headed to local section of the airport. I should have taken photos because the comparison between the facilities available in the international terminal and those offered once you get to the facility geared more towards actual Bahamians is striking. Everything's run down. The light's bad. Seats are torn up. Coffee's self-serve (horrors!). Just a very different vibe. I took Pineapple Air to Eleuthera, bought some beer, waited to be picked up and then had an entertaining conversation about love with the dude who picked me up/set me up with my rental van. He was one of many to ask me if I was married or had a boyfriend within five minutes of saying hello. Eleuthera is not an island accustomed to single women it would seem.  

I ultimately arrived quite safely at Edge of the World's Tamarind Cottage in Gregory Town. I had found the place through TripAdvisor and had every expectation that it was going to be a great place to call home for the next six days, and that certainly turned out to be true. Kimy and Terry are wonderful proprietors and seriously welcoming. They've created a wonderful haven that I very much am glad I was able to share for as short a time as it was. It was a little sad making that the weather was decidedly not sunny nor terribly warm upon my arrival. I had only leggings and two light sweaters among my wardrobe for the trip and wished that I had decided to pack two less sundresses in favor of one pair of jeans, because those first two days were super windy and rainy. This is me soon after arriving at the cottages. My bangs are being pushed aggressively by the wind. 

There were three cottages on the property, in addition to our hosts' own house. The property was right on Gregory Town's main harbor/cove area. A short stroll down a bromeliad and palm tree laden hill brought me to the property's deck.

I thought I'd take advantage of this deck and its complementary kayaks at some point, but this turned out mainly to be the spot I'd enjoy when I first woke up. I'd walk down with my earl grey tea and mystery novel and just adjust to the morning before heading out to other beach vistas.

The view of town.

Sunday was also a bit of a wash in terms of adventuring during the day. It was just very rainy and there would be these thirty second views of the sun followed by much more prolonged bouts of rain and wind. I basically just holed up in bed reading for the majority of the day. Venturing out from time to time whenever it seemed like there was a break in the clouds. This was my front door view.

You know I logged some quality time sitting on this porch.

On Sunday evening I decided I'd go out for dinner and make vacation friends, but first I had to stop at the town's convenience store for a bit of gas. There I ran into Wallace, from whom I was renting a van and with whom L. and I spent some time last year. He told me my intended destination was closed and invited me to a party instead. I was hesitant to go as I don't necessarily thrive in environments where I know no one, but I thought 'what the hell' and ended up going. That experience was definitely something to write about in more depth in another space but for now I think I'll be doing a pretty Cliffs Notes version. The house/party was out on Whale's Point and it was quite a beautiful location and had a great view of Harbour Island.

The wind was serious and it got quite cold once the sun began to set.

The party was just a very strange thing. A weird mix of folks who seem pretty happy with being very insular. The best conversation I had was with another 'outsider' - a contractor from Canada. I could only enjoy myself so much when surrounded by a generally indifferent group of strangers and soon was ready to go. Wallace was kind enough to drive me back to my car, which I had left at a restaurant a few miles away at his suggestion -- basically I think I would have enjoyed myself more if folks seemed more interested in conversation with an unknown (me) and/or if I had the freedom to leave without having to rely on someone else, but Wallace had said that the roads were rather rough for my van (questionable)  . In any case, it was still neat to end up at a party my second day on the island. I never get invited to strange parties in Philly, and that's a shame.

Once I returned back to the cottage I made myself a cheesy snack and retired to my lofted bedroom to read. The winds were howling so I battened down the hatches and snuggled deeply into the sheets and quilt, reading a Margaret Maron novel. At some point I looked up at the screened window closest to the bed and saw this sight. So huge! Made sense that this moth would want to get a little respite from the winds outside but I noticed that it seemed to have pooped a bit on the edge of the bed, which looked at first like bleach spots. While I considered just leaving it alone I ultimately decided I didn't want to be pooped on by a giant moth while I was sleeping, so I gently scooped it up and returned it to the outdoors. So crazy.

Birthday Dinner for Fatty c/o Congee Village

So I went on a vacation a bit ago and the planning of it was not without its iterations. The final plan resulted in my deciding to fly out of JFK Airport in NYC because it would be a direct flight to Nassau at a better price and time. This led to my asking L. if I could stay with her and Fatty the night before my trip, as the flight was at 7 AM. She said yes and the plan was good. Then as we got closer to the date in question, it turned out that they were going to celebrate Fatty's birthday that Friday. Celebrations would include dinner out and then a musical show. I was all in for the dinner, but less so for the concert, as it would keep me out far later than I would think prudent for a needed 5 AM airport arrival time. So I stuck with dinner, which was at Congee Village on Allen Street. I think we turned out to be a table of 10 with a variety of tastes and eating restrictions. At least one glutard and one vegan if I recall correctly. We ordered a nice variety of dishes.  SP ordered a whole roasted chicken that was all chopped up and marvelously garlicky and tender. I ordered a tofu in soy sauce dish and a thick noodle dish. Greens were well represented as well.

Scallion pancakes, no doubt.

A plate with greens, chicken, noodles and fried rice.

After dinner this group headed off into the night towards music while I made my way back to Brooklyn with the intention of making sure everything was ready for the trip, a bit of blogging and an early bed time. I ended up dealing with the pre-travel awakes for much of the night, but I think it was still good that I didn't go out. At least when the cab picked me up at 4 something in the morning I wasn't groggy or hungover. Glad that I was able to celebrate Fatty's big day a bit early. This was definitely a good last experience in the States before my Caribbean vacation.

Chicken Sandwich Simplicity

Like I said, roast chicken has the wondrous properties that allow it to be fresh and new with aplomb. In this instance, a bit of the chicken perked up with lettuce, muenster, avocado and tomato, resulting in a delightful lunch sandwich.

Simple Roasted Country Chicken

At some other time in February I went on out to the country for a little R&R. I figured while I was there I should probably roast a chicken, which I did - first brining it. The result was nicely moist and successful and was accompanied by some small baked sweet potatoes and assorted carrots and roasted onions.

Nothing fancy, but delicious in its simplicity. I can't believe there was a time when I didn't know how to roast a chicken. Now I constantly feel like that's exactly what I should do, as after a day or two of straight up roasted chicken I know I can always create an entirely new thing - curry, stew, sandwich ect- to freshen it up and keep the whole thing from being monotonous. And then there's the stock you can make with the carcass. Delicious, delicious stock.

Burrata and Pizza c/o Bufad

Some time after my return to Philly from Gettysburg I met up with LBM to check out a new pizza place, Bufad. I walked there and looked for LBM, as she texted me to let me know she had arrived before me and was sitting in the back. It's not a large space, just a narrow aisle of seating along the windows, with the kitchen and its counter taking up a larger portion of the space. It wasn't at full capacity, so it was slightly confusing when all I saw were a few couples near the door and one table of three further back. The attractive host/waiter (are there really any other kind of hosts/waiters at new restaurants in Philly?) noted my confusion and I explained I was looking for a friend had already arrived. He nodded and pointed to the table of three, so I walked that way with what I'm sure was a bit of a perplexed expression. Once there, however, I realized that the one woman whose back was to the door was in fact LBM, and that she had been seated at a four-top with a couple. Why they made this choice when there were open tables available is a mystery. In any case, I sat down and poured myself a glass of the wine LBM brought (it's BYO). The couple was slightly distracting; the husband kept interjecting into our conversation and menu discussion. I'd also like to go on the record as saying that yes, Chicago is a great city but it's not really any cleaner than any other city, and that the people who usually say it is are upper-class white folks who never went further north than Lakeview or south of the Loop (this opinion was not widely liked by the husband). Eventually we did get down to planning our meal. I was drawn to the brussels sprouts with burrata cheese, which didn't really speak to LBM at all since she's not a fan of the sprouts. But we ordered it any way because she was humoring me. The burrata itself was pretty satisfying in its tender mozarella walls and creamy insides. I also liked the bits of pancetta that added a nice boost of salt to the whole thing.

We ordered two pizzas: the escarole, which came with spicy marinated escarole, ricotta, and Napolitan salumi; and the sausage, which came with fennel sausage, sauteed greens, cacio e pepe and shaved peccorino. Though the escarole was my preference when ordering, turns out the sausage pizza was the one that spoke to me more. There was a bit more simplicity to its ingredients, and I think I favored the sausage's flavors to the salumi's.

It was good to catch up with LBM and scandalize the second couple to be seated next to us with all sorts of R-rated subject matter during our meal. We were pretty sure the wife was far more interested in hearing our conversation than trying to have her own with her husband, but she may have simply been in a disapproval coma. We shall probably never know. Everything was good, but I feel like when it comes to fancy pizza the one I had at In Riva last fall was preferable.

Last Breakfast in Gettysburg

Well I'm back from a vacation, of which you will eventually see evidence...but now I gotta just get through this Gettysburg trip that happened in late February. Our last meal was at a '50s style joint pretty much catty-cornered from Ernie's, and if I recall correctly also had a man's name in its title. In any case it was a cold day, but we got a pretty sunny set-up, which kept us warm and gave me nice light for photos. A number of us ordered french toast, which looked pretty good.

I. seemed contemplative about her bites.

I had the two eggs, sausage and homefries combo. I would have liked my eggs just a little more cooked after being flipped but it wasn't anything tragic. Sausage and potatoes were good.

Then we all drove in our respective cars out to one of the battlefields. It was so unbelievably windy and cold that I don't think any of us were too excited about staying out in the elements for long, so then we splintered into two groups. I was in a group that went to check out outlet stores nearby. I was particularly interested in finding sunglasses, but ended up buying two pairs of jeans for $30.

And thus concludes the family weekend in Gettysburg.

Snacks c/o Appalachian Brewing Company and Pizza c/o Tommy's Pizza

Oh man. I really gotta go to bed, but here's one more post. The timing of our lunch and then idea for planned dinner was such that a quick snack had to be had between them. This snack was c/o Appalachian Brewing Company, which truly has wonderful beer ... but has never quite figured out how to have its food match up in terms of quality. I had another stout and loved it.

And ordered a small cup of the chili, which my uncle warned me would be too spicy ... it wasn't, but I think he and I have slightly different tolerance levels.

We also all had a bit of their soft pretzels with mustard and beer cheese soup dip, they were nice and warm and soft. There was also a spinach kind of dip. Basically my thought is this: go there for the beer and if you need to eat something, don't get too ambitious.

Then we spent some time hanging out in the two adjoined rooms out of the four we had reserved. K. the little really was doing some excellent bed jumping work.

K. the OC and I concocted a plan where we'd play UNO before going to dinner so that afterwards we could potentially distract the kids with a movie while we focused on hearts (the night before the reverse happened in part because the kids got annoyed that we weren't going to teach them how to play hearts. Their day will come, but not quite. I think A. the bf's daughter K. and the eldest of M.'s kids, A. will be the first to be allowed into the hearts/rummy circle. And other cousin/brother K.'s daughter G., but they weren't there so let's not complicate this any further.

I got kind of bored of UNO pretty quickly and moved on to lying around taking photographs.

Little I. began to see me as a potential tickle target. Or perhaps I first tickled her and it was her payback?

In any case, she'd jump from one bed to the other and then try tickling my feet or belly. She hasn't quite gotten the knack for it, so I'd really just pretend to be tickled.

Which figuratively tickled her while also getting the attention of her older brother, who had a much firmer grasp of how to make a person tickled/squirm. Once it was two against one it was a little more intense on my feet.

Oh yes, she's an angel.

Then they momentarily lost interest in me and wrestled each other.

Then it was back to me.

Then I think pretty much everyone was over UNO and into lying down.

And then we gathered ourselves for another ritual eating experience. I don't actually remember Tommy's being as large a part of our visits to Gettysburg as it was for Uncle E. and his brood, but in the last few years I've enjoyed catching up. They recently renovated and it has slightly classed up the place, they also are doing a great job of having interesting beers on tap - Troeg's, Yards...not your average pizza joint Bud (though they have it too. We were lucky to be able to grab two good sized tables. I ended up with the kids. K. the OC joined in at some point. I took some photographs, but then trusted A. the eldest and K. to take some too as they are both responsible young ladies. And they took some good shots. This first one I did.

This was by A. I believe. I look awful but what can you do? Wake up early and work out probably. Moving on.

I think between us we split three pizzas, one pineapple and pepperoni, one cheese, and one sausage and peppers. Good stuff.

A. by K. I think.

K. by K. but two different Ks.

Ugh. I just want to prove I was there even though I look the worst.

Another one by K. I think.

Probably A.

Little I. does this funny thing that when you tell her to wink, she really just closes her eyes and winks her mouth, which is, I think, what I was doing here.

And that has got to be a wrap for tonight, even though we had one more meal before I headed out the next afternoon. You'll just have to wait a week and some days. It will totally be kind-of worth it.