Eastern Shore Visit

Don't ever think that you can go back to somewhere you'd been

40 years ago and have your experience match the memories that

you've been carrying around with you that entire time.  Nine times

out of ten it ain't happening.  Oh well.  

 

Which figure should I pose behind?, my wife asked.

I love you Honey.

After lunch in St. Michaels, we took a drive to Tilghman Island,

an old fishing village just past Knapps Narrows, the channel that

separates the peninsula from Tilghman Island proper. This is the

Skipjack Thomas Clyde, built in Oriole, MD in 1911.

She is one of the last oyster-dredging Skipjacks in operation. 

Gooseneck.

The pushboat was originally used to power the Skipjacks to the oyster

beds.  There, the sails were hoisted and dredging took place under

sail only. Over the decades laws have changed, and dredging can be

 done under power any two days of the week, although one of which

cannot be Sunday.  Sadly, these days, most boats dredge only on the

power-allowed days.  There goes another long-standing tradition. 

Definitely the first photo ever taken from this vantage point.  Ever.

Back in St. Michaels.  'Nuff said.

Lovely scenic Locust Street.

The tasting room at the St. Michaels Winery.  We tasted a

Sangiovese and a Viognier.  I liked them both.  My wife, not

so much.  She had other ideas.  The Eastern Shore Brewing

Company was right around the corner.  Let's go.

Adrian Moritz at Eastern Shore Brewing Company was a great

host and walked us through the tasting flight of his four beers on

tap. They must be good because my wife loved three out of four.

And she's a wine drinker.  I, no surprise, loved them all.

We left with a six-pack of Duck Duck Goose, their rich, dark

porter that was not at all bitter with luscious coffee and

chocolate notes.  If we were not on a schedule, we would have

sat there a lot longer. 

From the upper deck, outside of our room at the Ship Watch Inn,

a beautiful Bed & Breakfast in Chesapeake City, Md.  Located

on the Delaware and Chesapeake Canal, we had tremendous views

of the canal and the goings-on that such a view will afford. 

This tug and barge went by, and I couldn't help

thinking of a couple people.

Chestertown backyard. 

Ship's Boat of the Schooner Sultana.  It was named after a

dedicated volunteer who put every ounce of passion he had

into the schooner.  For a few moments, I was speechless.

Captain's quarters.  Due to the cooler weather, the AC had been

turned off and the windows opened. 

One of four swivel guns that Dad held so dear. These are hardly

guns;  instead they are mini cannons.  Not much arm-twisting was

needed to have him fire these things.  His powderhorn was always

full and an audience was not hard to find. 

The Sultana Company will be dropping the mast this winter to inspect

and repair it if necessary.  Earlier this summer, the shrouds were

inspected and the question arose as to whether or not they should be

re-served during that time. It was deemed that after ten years, the

pitch on the shrouds was still in good shape and that the job could

wait. Testament to the person that served those shrouds in the

beginning.  Never a half-assed job.  Ever. Too much pride.   

Gorgeous day.

Sultana with a bunch of schoolkids leaves the pier for a couple

hours of education and just plain fun.  That's the main mission

of this ship, and they fulfill it every day of the year.

I got choked up as I watched her pull away from the pier.

There's more of my fiber within that ship than I will ever

probably realize.  But every time I visit, it will become a

bit more clear, I'm sure.

Tear 'em up Tilly!

Ah yes.  Proper sail trim and weight distribution, with the skipper

sitting half-in and possibly feathering a touch trying to fetch the

weather mark.  It doesn't seem like it was too windy that day,

but who am I to talk?  This was January 17th, 2010. 

In Newport, RI.  Did I say January?

I noticed he's got that go-fast carbon-fiber tiller that costs a

week's groceries for a family of four.  Thing is, he's now got

only a family of two, and his wife is a gardener par excellence. 

She can go out back and pick tonight's side dishes.  So the

disposable funds exist, to a degree. 

We know that he likes to run.  Marathons, half marathons,

Turkey Day Runs, beer runs, donuts........The guy is in good

shape, no doubt about it. I remember seeing an Ab-Crunch

bench picture in a post last year. He puts me to shame.

He's somewhat of a technical guy.  He practices alot. 

A real lot.  And  he takes it seriously.  I have to hand it to

him though, his work seems to pay off.  He's about to embark

on a trip that will ultimately place him on the starting line with

the world's  Masters Laser sailors.  

There's a blogger out there that not too long ago voiced his dislike

of being told to "be careful" before going somewhere or

doing something.  

"Is there ever a time when a thoughtful farewell of "be careful" actually resulted in that person who received that farewell having taken actions that he or should would not have normally taken?, ie, the "be careful" comment having helped? And even if a major fluke of an accident did take place -- like a car accident or slipping in the shower and breaking your skull -- could the most careful person have avoided it with even the most obsessive precautions taken?  Answer: no.

We live in a pretty safe world. The odds are in your favor to do whatever you want in over 190 countries and not come away harmed. "Be careful". What a shallow thing to say, based in fear."

Our sailor had a different take on it.  In his view, "be careful" meant

"I care for you and I want you back alive and in health." 

Tillerman- We're rooting for you!  Have a great stay at Hayling

Island.  Do well, but more importantly, have fun in the process.  

And be careful.     

Gravlax of Love

Every so often I get the yen for Gravlax, the quick-cured

salmon that's great with sour cream and capers on pumpernickel,

or an egg bagel with Philly cream cheese, or on the end of a fork

in between sips of gin or vodka or (insert liquor of your choice).

It's really simple to make, and after a couple of times making it,

I stopped going to the recipe because it really comes out great

no matter exactly which ingredients you use.

Salmon fillet is the key ingredient.  Weight doesn't matter so much.

Lay it on some plastic wrap.  In a bowl mix equal parts sugar

and salt.  Pretty much any type of sugar and salt will work.

I prefer brown sugar and kosher salt.  If you have a jar of

pickling spice, throw in a good amount.  If not, coriander

seeds, mustard seeds, bay leaves, juniper berries, dried

chiles, and fennel seeds will fit the bill.  Add also whole

black peppercorns, and white ones if you have them.

A ton of fresh dill is needed for this.  Chop a few sprigs

roughly and spread evenly over the salmon.  This prevents

the salt/sugar mixture from coming into full contact with the fish.

This may be solely my preference, and I'm always happy

with the result.  Then pour the salt mixture over the chopped

dill blanket evenly at about a half inch thickness.  Finally,

cover everything with the rest of the dill bunches, again

spreading them out as evenly as you can.  Wrap two or 

three times fairly tightly with plastic film.  Then clean up

the mess you've made on your cutting board. 

Some folks say that weighting the fillet is not necessary,

but I like to do just that.  Get two pans where one fits

inside the other.  Place the wrapped salmon in the bottom

of one, and place the second on top, weighing it down

with a couple of heavy objects such as canned yams

and whole plum tomatoes.  A red brick would work

just as well.  Put in the fridge and say goodnight for 24

hours.  Then, take out of the fridge, remove the weights,

and pour off the juices that have been drawn out of the

fish by the salt.  Back go the cans and into the fridge

again for another 24.  Next day do the same thing.

On the third day, we're ready to unveil the finished

product.  Unwrap, remove the dill sprigs, scrape off

the remaining salt, (there usually is some undissolved)

and quickly run under a gentle stream of water, being 

careful not to rinse off all of the chopped protective

dill, leaving some on for a nice presentation. 

Then, with a very sharp, long slicing knife, slice salmon

 on a bias, and shingle the slices evenly on a nice plate,

displaying the beautiful chopped dill 

on the edge of every slice.  La di da.  

Yes, of course

So Familiar

When they saw the Disney dad, 

my girls immediately looked at me.  What!?
And seriously, nothing runs like a Deere.