Local Eating Conventions

I’ve heard of lobster rolls, but really didn’t understand what they were. Like a sushi roll? Cheese roll? Something baked? Two days in a row I’ve had someone suggest them. We pulled into  our camp early today. The owner is a local retired chief of police. Very nice guy. We both agreed we are happy not to be on the job in these times. Anywho, he suggests the best lobster rolls are just across the street. Who am I to argue. I don’t know what they much less eaten one. My friends say I’m a mixed up Viking for my passivity towards critters that reproduce in the water. 

We hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Another local food convention faux pas on my part. Who knew you were to sleep in hours past the first rooster crowing before breakfast was served in a New England B&B. When we were asked what time we wanted breakfast I thought a leisurely 7:30 would work. We do have miles to ride and hills to climb. Evelyn frowned. Said her help, who would be serving us wouldn’t like it but would do it. I said, ok , 8 would be fine. She says that would be better. Evelyn was working some farmers markets this weekend selling her famous pies and quiche and jams. She would leave a tomato basil quiche for us that just required warming up. 

We slept so good in this 1840 house with a soft bed and feather pillows. It was like being a kid again at grandma’s house. The weather had turned and was cooling down but we kept the fans going and curled up under the blankets. Oh the joy. The first rooster went off a little after 6. I was kinda awake already but was actually lulled backed to sleep. A faulty rooster I suppose. At 6:30 I got out of bed and shut off the fan and noticed the hills were covered in clouds. Hmm. Back to the bed and under the blankets. More roosters joined in and by 7 I was wide awake checking the weather. Cooler, highs near 70. Cloudy. Perfect day to climb hills. We packed and brought all our gear downstairs. No one around. Usually there’s clanging and percolating coffee noises going on in a B&B.  I found the coffee pot. It was already preloaded so I turned it on. It’s after 8 now and no one stirring except us guests who were hungry. The coffee was actually really good. Strong and flavorful. I’ll have a second cup. 8:15. Still hungry. A third cup. At 8:27 I sent Evelyn a text thanking her for a nice warm bed but that we were headed into town for brunch as we still had miles to go and hills to climb. I hesitated pushing send and finished another cup. Once I pushed send I went in to place my cup in the sink when someone came down the stairs and both of us startled. She said she  wasn’t aware of us but sure knew the quiche in the frig was for us. Hmm? Wanting to be gracious and because mean people don’t ride bikes, we stayed, sat down and enjoyed a very tasty quiche, with seconds and more coffee while sitting on the porch watching the sun burn off the clouds. 

Fueled up we hit the road, back through South Royalton and the River road going downstream. We reached the village of Sharon and the road turned sharply up. Mr Garmin says 11% then 13. Second breakfast was the quiche again. Not as tasty the second time but it stayed down. I’m used to being passed by my wife on the climbs. I’m secure in that. But when four other ladies or gents pass me like I’m standing still, I question my abilities.  At the summit, or what is locally referred to as the gap, they were chatting with Rhonda and in need of mechanical help. The head tube of one bike was way loose. Then I noticed they were all riding E-bikes. I fixed the one. I’m as worthy now as the burger we ate yesterday. 

We rolled down and up and down through villages, like Sharon, South Strafford, and Thetford Center, that in some places would be considered touristy or vacation stops. Here in the Green Mountain State they are simply called ‘home’. The old creaky wood floored general stores are beaming with customers, all residents. All not in a hurry. All talking to one another. All giving each other smiles and waves. I guess this is the Vermont I had expected and was wanting.  We came upon the Sayre Bridge, a one lane covered bridge built around 1840. A local stopped, rolled down her window and asked, “ you want me to take your picture in front of the bridge?”  She has a vested interest in the bridge, raising money to maintain it and designing the new sign. She was so excited to hear of our journey. She thought we were hero’s. We’re not but accepted the platitudes with grace. Finally she said goodbye and wished us well on the next hill that awaited us on the over side of the bridge. Ugh. 

Then like that we were done climbing, for the day. Soon we crossed  the Connecticut River and entered New Hampshire. We took a left along the River road and soon entered another covered bridge. Then just like that we were in Orford and found our camp, The Pastures Campground. We were offered the premier site, tucked away in a corner on the River. 

Which is where we ate the most incredible lunch. The lobster roll was so delicious. I’m hooked. And the broccoli slaw the perfect side dish. We have been treated so well again this day. We are blessed. We are now eating a fine pizza delivered to us. Supposedly this restaurant doesn’t deliver this far out, but the camp owners gave us a name to drop and without hesitation today’s special Fire Oven Crust Backyard BBQ was delivered then devoured. 

The local food convention simply states: “eat well, live well, it’s a choice”.