non-food

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,