It was a rainy afternoon and we were ushered to the line ahead of several other grumpy line-waiters because there were only two of us. It was reminiscent of the time in Montreal where a similar thing happened.
And all because . . .
And not because . . .
We had a very french fry heavy lunch starting out with the simple duck fat french fries with aioli.
We teetered back and forth between the tuna melt and the BGT (Bacon, Goat Cheese, and Tomato) and opted for the latter. It was a fantastic choice but it wouldn't have been complete without . . .
. . . more french fries! In the form of duck fat poutine!
Before dinner we checked into the hotel and Jen marveled at the Fawlty Towers-esque passthroughs back at the Inn where we were staying.
Also we were greeted by a man whose name I forgot. Since I couldn't remember his name I dubbed him Henry David Thorough. Check in took about 45 minutes in which he gave us a huge list of parking rules, showed us maps, and gave us the names of everyone who had previously been, was currently on, and who would be on shift for the next week. This also included a vast treatise on how, when, and where to park in the area which may or may not have included the instruction: "If you see a little Asian lady, do not run her over." I'm glad he said something or else Jen and I would have likely made a heinous Maine faux pas. However, this did drastically change our vacation plans.
For dinner we went to Fore Street which, despite having a .BIZ domain name was an extraordinary restaurant. We had no reservations and despite the fact that we would have been able to walk right in to any other restaurant in town we ended up having to wait over an hour to get a seat. However, it was totally worth it.
Due to the low light conditions none of the pictures came out but we had the wood oven roasted Maine mussels, Atlantic sea scallops from Cape Cod, whole wild black sea bass from Rhode Island. For dessert Jen had the cheese plate with Blue Ledge Farm Riley's Coat from Vermont, Jasper Hill Farm Cloth Bound Aged Cheddar from Vermont, and the Berkshire Blue from Massachusetts.
Having eaten and drunk our way through four of the six New England states for Jen's birthday we returned to the Inn to pass out and let our bloat subside while we sort of watched Field of Dreams. Sort of.