A woman called Fordie

Last Friday evening Susie and I drove to Sherborn , Mass, to help her youngest sister Mary and her new husband Jim celebrate their recent marriage.  The small party consisted of a few family and friends and was put together and put on by Fordie M., one of Mary’s friends and gardening clients.

I should say at the outset that the evening was warm but low humidity, which made sitting and eating outside a sheer pleasure. The food was abundant, refreshing and incredibly tasty, the conversation lively, the conviviality warm and intimate. It reminded me of summer camp, sitting around the campfire telling stories, poking fun at ourselves and sharing some of the grand times in our various and diverse past lives. Laughter was the rule of the evening.

But the most rewarding part of the evening, an evening directed toward the celebration of marriage, was meeting “Fordie.” A marathon runner of some distinction (Joan Benoit calls Fordie “her mentor”) Hester Ford, known as “Fordie” since childhood, is one of those remarkable human beings we meet so very rarely in life.  From the moment Susan and I arrived to the moment we left, she was the epitome of kindness, humility, and generosity all neatly framed by a face whose sole goal in life was to see how many times it could smile and laugh in any given hour.

I’m sure Fordie has her flaws and I have no clue whether we will ever meet her again – she seems determined to put away the New England chapter of her life and exchange it for the haunting groves of the Monterey Peninsula.

Well, I can only say thanks for a wonderful evening – and may the gods speed you on your journey, leaving you with a light heart and a carefree soul.

Heat relief at Scarborough Beach

We’ve seen warmer weather to be sure but this past weekend has been brutally hot if only because it’s only June. (photo: Barbara holding the ever-present Mr. Gray.)

Susie and I were planning on spending Saturday working at home (me thinking about options and her testing scone recipes) when Andrea called and asked if we wanted to come down to her mother’s place on the beach in Narragansett for dinner and cool ocean breezes.

“What can we bring?”  was the first question I asked and the answer was, simply: sparkling wine – a burden we were only too happy to bear.

So as the sun slid ever further west, and with three bottles of Spanish Cava resting quietly on ice in the cooler, and wearing our best summer togs, we left the apartment about 4pm. The car was pointed straight south down I-95 to Route 4 and then over to Route 138, inching ever closer to the relief of the ocean and  Scarborough Beach.

We arrived a little after 5 and met the other dinner guests for the evening: HK and his wife Nancy who had broken free of the heat in Houston (Texas that is) and headed north, spending a night in RI before crawling further north to the coasts of Maine.

Photos above: HK and Nancy.

Barbara, aided and abetted by her daughter Andrea (that's her in the photo below, center stage), prepared yet another flawless meal – seared, breaded sea scallops picked fresh that morning from a fish shop in nearby Galilee, and matched with a tasty spaghetti in a light, scrumptious cream and asparagus sauce.

We sat and ate on the porch, of course, overlooking the water barely a stone’s throw away.

The evening was about as perfect as one is apt to find, and we chatted about one thing or another, opening and closing one bottle of cava after another. Sparkling wine just seemed to fit the evening, the food and the group’s sensibilities.

The drive was unremarkable except for the feeling of satisfaction that one gets after spending a few hours balancing delicious food with  lively conversation.

Marriage in Massachusetts

Life has a funny way of taking us from one odd twist to another even stranger turn. We just never know what to expect or where it will come from next. So the big news is Susan's youngest sister Mary married a high school sweetheart this past Monday at the town hall in Westborough, MA. They reconnected via Facebook -- the ultimate social tool -- and tied the knot in a quaint and cute ceremony, surrounded by a few family and friends, using the powers of the town clerk.

I had to work but Susie went and took a few photos, which you can see right here:

Next up, a brief discussion of the Newport Chowder Festival. Try to catch this event next year if you're in the neighborhood -- a bit pricey but the food was well worth the trip.

Ciao for now,

Steve

Newport Chowder Cookoff

Getting in or out. . . 

My favorite pastry chef ready to tackle the rigors of a serious New England chowder tasting:

Bartending on the waterfront:

Steak n Bacon chowder:

Rachel's wedding old friends and border crossings

Weather has been perfect here in the eastern half (really third) of the United States, making the conditions just right for a road trip back to the heartland of America. The catalyst? Our niece Rachel was getting married in Grand Rapids and family started gathering earlier in the week, with Susie heading the pack last Tuesday so she could get a jump on baking the desserts for the wedding reception.

I packed the car late Thursday evening, set the alarm for 3:30am Friday, and was on the road headed north of Route 146 toward the Mass Pike (I-90) by a little after 4:00.

Traffic was smooth, weather was great and I zipped across the border in Canada with ease. Getting back into the US proved more troublesome, however. After an hour crawling 2kms to pay Canada 3 bucks to get out of their country, and crawling 1km an hour to get the opportunity to be grilled by Conrad Veidt in order to get back into my own country were the low points of the trip. (photo below: nieces Christina and Melissa, sisters of the bride.)

Rachel's sisters Christina and Melissa

Perhaps it was the bazooka on the roof or the backseat filled with Osama Bin laden lookalikes, but the surly young man from Homeland Absurdity carrying a gun sitting in the booth at the Blue Water Bridge crossing grilled me about my personal life (sorry Rachel and Steve) that struck me as oddly unnecessary. “Where was I going,” “What was I going to do there,” “Who was getting married,” and a few others. After confiscating the bazooka I eventually passed through into the US (motto: “The only thing we have to fear is we won’t have enough fear to be afraid of.”)

I zoomed across the state of Michigan, through St. Clair, Lapeer, Genesee, Shiawassee, Ingham, Clinton and Ionia Counties before slipping quietly across the border of Kent County and minutes from Grand Rapids.

The evening was a blur of mostly familiar faces, with a few new thrown in for good measure. After being handed a glass of wine by my loving wife, and grabbing some food from the buffet spread out on my mother-in-law’s table I chatted here and there, making little sense I’m sure, after 14 hours on the road my brain certainly a bit addled.

Although it was graduation day for the bride and groom, Saturday saw family members deep into prepping the food for Sunday’s post-wedding reception. For her part Susie worked toward finishing her desserts at a friend’s house. I took a break from helping my pastry queen to meet up with Chuck, another old friend at Shuler’s, a local bookstore. It’s always good to visit old friends, to recall good times, helping us realize and remember that good times still lay ahead as well.

Saturday evening a few of us gathered for a peaceful evening of leftovers and wine at the focal point for Susie’s family: her mother’s home.

Sunday provided us with another beautiful day in Western Michigan. Dick and Dorothy took the opportunity to catch their breath from all the food preparation on Saturday to head out to Grand Haven and catch a glimpse of Lake Michigan. (It’s a genetic thing for folks from Michigan in general and Fremont in particular – they have to go and see the Big Lake.)

Sunday was a day of finalization, climax, finishing and beginning.

I took the opportunity to snap some photos of the bridesmaids getting their hair done and finishing their makeup.

I then buzzed back to pick up Susie. We packed up the boxed pastries, Dick dropped by to pick up the cold sparkling grape juice and we all headed over to the banquet hall.

After a short but oh so sweet ceremony, just after the bride and groom strode down the aisle, husband and wife, and while they hugged, kissed and cried holding each other tight, a handful of family and friends hauled the food – sandwiches, salads, fruit and cheese and other apps out to the banquet hall. here's a short slideshow of images from that memorable weekend:

The afternoon and evening flowed quickly, as did the trays of food – empty exchanged with full ones, until the guests were full and the food nearly gone. The desserts (including a Norwegian specialty cake) seemed to be a big hit -- no surprise to some of us. My personal favorite were the little choux puffs with sliced strawberries and caramel mascarpone filling:

The evening slipped away from us and before long we found ourselves wide awake at 4:30am, packed and ready to shower, dress and hit the road eastward, back to the Island of Rhode.

And so we did, crossing the border at Fort Erie with nary a problem, and enjoying wonderful driving weather, light traffic and Sirius satellite radio.

It was a heckuva short stay in the winter wonderland (now officially known as "Pure Michigan"), but we did have an incredible time. You should have been there.