Essay: What I did over end-of-summer vacation.

 

 

I am back!  One week on the sand went a long way toward restoring what little sanity I had left…  I regained my mind and then proceeded to leave half of it on the beach on the Cape Cod National Shoreline.  You will not see a single photo of food from this vacation.  The food we had was outstanding- goat milk mozzie in pesto tossed with heirloom tomatoes served with crusty bread, char-grilled hamburgers, homemade garlic dills and bread and butter pickles, garlic bean dip with homemade tortilla chips and more- but we were so hungry from all our time on the beach that we laid into each spread of food like a swarm of locusts before thoughts of photography even occured to me. 

 

 We left our indelible mark on South Wellfleet.  We terrorized a very tightly-wound, perfectly coiffed and tanned surf shop owner  by merely walking in the door.  Can I help you?  Oh!  Don’t touch that!  Or that!  Oh!  Don’t touch that surfboard!  Is there something you NEED?  Just DON’T touch that!  I suppose the fact that my husband, father-in-law and I were all present did nothing to assuage the woman’s fear that we would allow our little fuzzy-headed minions to run roughshod over her precious laid-back surfer haven and up-end all her painstakingly polished gear.  Interesting, because the first thing inside the door was kiddie-sized boogie boards, water pistols and kites.  Here’s a thought.  If you don’t want kids in the shop, put up a sign- or better yet- don’t carry toys.  Poor woman.  I guess we are a little intimidating…

 

We put a dent in the lobster population.  Have you ever seen an ten-year-old, an eight-year-old and a six-year-old  truly appreciate eating a lobster?  I did last week.  The eldest boys and the Evil Genius each ordered a boiled lobster the one night we went out for dinner.  The two youngest ordered ‘the beach toy special’ (fresh caught fried scrod with french fries in a sand-pail with a shovel.)  By the time we left the restaurant we could’ve squeezed about a quart of clarified butter from our hair and clothes.  It’s not the tidiest proposition to feed kids lobster.   My father-in-law and I ordered scallop jerky.  Er, actually we ordered broiled scallops, but we were served scallop jerky.  The name of the restaurant will remain a mystery because the rest of their food and their service was fine.  Just take this advice.  When a restaurant has the word “Lobster” in their name, it’s best to stick with the lobster for dinner.

 

We spent hours and hours and hours on the beach:

 

 playing in sand,

picking tiny rocks and sea shells,

letting the tide lap at our toes and bury our feet…

Staring at the waves…

The brave among us boogie boarded their hearts out…

 

It was fabulous.  It was relaxing.  It was a timeless family memory. 

 

And it is good to be home…

Comments

  1. Welcome home! Great pics of the boys. Love the pics of the tomatoes as well. I’m thinking that we should really try something fun- plan on cooking the same thing for dinner someday and calling eachother over the phone while we eat it. The torture that is the distance between our bellies must be overcome! If you had skype we could eat online together. Just a thought. Pho? Roasted marrow bones and radishes and french butter? A bag of hot fries? You name it.

  2. Tuna- Thank ye… the only thing missing when we got home was you. I think we should figure out the eating together long distance thing. I vote for a meal of all of the above. I don’t think they have to be mutally exclusive. Oh! And I still need that recipe for the Viet dish you told me about… It wasn’t banh mi, but I think it was banh something. The one with the wraps and stuff we were going to make last time you came over.

  3. Hey, wait, I want to play, too! I like the idea of eating while online with Skype–I HAVE to get the camera and headphones connected! Hey, Christina, where can you get marrow bones for roasting? Can you just buy them as is or do you have to wrest them from roasts and just save them up for a special occasion?

  4. I actually went to the local butcher, as well as the local “good” grocery store and asked for marrow bones at the counter, jus to see if they had them. Both did, and they just call them “soup bones”- all wrapped up in the regular grocery aisle. They are super cheap, seeing as no one makes a regular habit of eating them. I just sent a link to you all re:homemade gnocchi with lamb/veal meatballs. After I deposit my scholarship check, we should totally get on that. This is assuming, of course, that between trying to finish grad school and beccy trying to raise 5 kids we will find the time for homemade gnocchi.

  5. I think if we all get Dad and Lindy to watch the kids we’d have the time. Righto? Good. It’s a plan. We’ll get them some manly/boy-ly movie and plug them in and go to town on gnocchi!

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