It’s been a summer of travel, to far-flung and often breath-taking vistas. Still, a two hour plane ride back to my second (third?) home in Indiana is always surprising and wonderful.
Too many people think of Indiana as one big cornfield. It does have a lot of cornfields, but so much more. My friend Peggy lives in the northern reaches of Indianapolis, a good jumping off point for exploring the northern areas of the state. So, we set off to visit another friend, Sue, and her husband Tom who live near Lake Michigan.
The lake was riled up when we took a stroll on the dunes of Miller Beach. If you didn’t know better (and also if you didn’t notice and recognize the skyline of downtown Chicago in the distance) you would swear you were at the ocean. The remnants of the end of summer littered the beach: a broken folding chair, a ruined flip flop or two, and a lone sock harboring a colony of lady bugs.
We drove south to a smaller and less wild-looking waterway, Cedar Lake, one of the smallish glacial lakes dotting northern Indiana. A historic resort, Lassen’s, has been turned into a museum which tells the story of the ice harvested on the lake, notable people who lived in the community surrounding the lake, and the resort itself. We took a ride on the replica of the steam powered launch which took visitors from the Monon Line railway from Chicago to Lassen’s for rest and relaxation “back in the day.”
Back in Indianapolis, we took our friend Susan’s advice and visited the Restoration Hardware showroom/restaurant/scenic experience which opened last year in a not-really-historic palatial mansion. Better known as the DeHaan Estate, the property has an interesting backstory you can read here. Among other things, before super-rich time share mogul and philanthropist Christel DeHaan built the mansion in the early 2000s, a seminary for African-American Catholics was located there. RH bought the house and property for a cool $14.5 million.
Who knew, right? But Indiana always surprises me, no matter how many times I visit, and Peggy is the perfect companion to “wander” with and discover new wonders! Here are some of the highlights in pictures:
The first day I visited, the iconic Indiana pork cutlet, which I had craved, was consumed. The typical cutlet sandwich is so huge, we split it and it was still a bellyful. Well, that and onion rings on the side of course…This is probably many people’s idea of an Indiana landscape. On our way to northern Indiana, we stopped for grilled cheese and super-butterfat-saturated ice cream at Fair Oaks Farm. Not to be missed unless your’e lactose intolerant!White caps and waves at Miller Beach. See the tiny Chicago skyline view just left of center. One of two steam launches, called the Dewey Line, at Lassen’s historic resort. We took the 20-minute narrated ride across to the Monon Railway site and back. The launch was the fastest and most fun way to travel from the train to the resort on the opposite side of the lake. On the way back to Indianapolis, we stopped in Renssalaer, Indiana to take the Ren Art Walk. Historic court house in the background. I liked the pink coneflowers, though there were plenty more murals to gawk at. Saturday evening seems to be the time many locals with souped up cars rev them up and go cruising around the square, so maybe not the most serene time to visit?!Not officially part of the art walk, but also seen in Renssalaer on a side street. Indiana, keeping it weird!The Palladian style DeHaan mansion, front view. View of dining room. It seems the food is underwhelming according to reviews. We just got $5 glasses of iced tea at the wine bar and roamed the house and grounds. You could also just swan in, buy nothing, and have fun being a cheap interloper. (Which, as regular readers may recall, is what Peggy and I did last year in historic French Lick! ) This kind of strategically placed statuary is everywhere, creating impressive sight lines wherever you look. And finally, another view of the patio with the lake. Tune in to Indiana adventures next year – we’re thinking of going east/northeast next time!
Our visit to the Nordic countries at the beginning of the summer season seems so long ago now, viewing it from the end of August. But, it still merits one more blog post!
When we discovered during our trip planning that Tallinn, Estonia is just an easy two-hour ferry ride across the Baltic Sea from Helsinki, we had to take advantage of the opportunity to add another country to our itinerary. We also read, and heard, that Tallinn had a lovely Medieval old town, on the Unesco World Heritage list, had many interesting sites, and was very walkable.
After a pleasant, uneventful passage on the huge ferry, we arrived at the port entry, and decided to walk to the Old Town where we had booked our accommodations. It’s not very far, but you have to cross a couple of very busy roads, and there was a lot of constuction, so it was not the most fun walk ever with roller board baggage in tow.
When we got to the vicinity of our Air BNB, we could not for the life of us find the entrance to the apartment building. Enter a very nice older woman who took us through a (secret?) basement passage, pointing us to the lobby of our building, and then disappeared. Was she a magical guide, or just a local who was more than done with us, once she had safely delivered us to the proper address? Either way, she did some clueless strangers a big favor, which boded well for our visit. (Come to find out, the entrance was virtually around the corner, but the directions were rather opaque.)
During our first foray into Old Town, we sought sustenance. It is de rigeur to try one of several pancake restaurants sprinkled throughout the area. This was not your light, airy and namby-pamby French style crepe, nor your doughy American breakfast offering. A heavy-duty affair, stuffed to the gills with meat, cheese (and maybe some nod to vegetables) arrived promptly to our table. Truth in advertising, the Kompressor has myriad choices of filled pancakes, and at very reasonable prices. Prepare to be as stuffed as the pancake if you eat it all. The dark wood interior also looks very Medieval (and maybe not redecorated since that era), to get you in the mood for exploring Old Town.
Stopping by the Visitor Center right in the heart of Old Town (where the staff all seems to have excellent English and are very helpful) will orient you to the city with maps, brochures, and answers to even your dumbest questions. We discovered (on our own, since we didn’t think to ask) that the Maritime Museum, which was just down the street from our apartment, had evening hours that day, and also a senior discount! It is located in one of the gate towers flanking the city, and is well worth a visit.
That was a highlight of the above ground cultural sites, but the next day, we did the below part. After venturing outside the gates to visit the market near the train station, and a very cool contemporary arts district, we finally figured out where the entrance to the Kiek in de Kök Fortification Museum was located. This museum complex includes an underground tour of the “Bastion passages,” an extensive series of tunnels.
Upon later comparing notes with a number of friends who have also visited Tallinn, not one of them had descended into this fascinating find. It is apparently not on too many of the “what to do if you only have two or three days in Tallinn” lists, but it was one of my favorite parts of our time there. Eerie, full of layers of history, and a cool respite from the unseasonably warm day, it hit several marks for this tourist!
My other favorite find was the (free!) medical museum, the Town Hall Pharmacy, purported to be “the oldest pharmacy in Europe that has continually operated on the same premises.” Just a couple of rooms, really, but very interesting and right in the thick of town center.
All in all, we really enjoyed our two nights, and almost three days in Tallinn. We missed a lot of things, naturally, but I think we packed in a good deal. Above and below, Tallinn ranks high in my recommendation of Nordic-adjacent cities to visit. Check some more details in the photos below, and feel free to let me and other readers know what you enjoyed if you have ever been there!
Steve tucks into a pancake (pictured is half of the pancake!). We got a salad to round things out.There are a lot of levels in Tallinn, and a lot of ups and downs. And street art, too. Here, you can see how the lower and upper portions of the city form a sort of layer cake of building ages and styles. The Maritime Museum entrance is right through this gate, in Fat Margaret’s tower. Like Finland, the Estonians do a good job of repurposing historic structures for new uses. The first portion of the underground museum is a collection of stone carvings from various locations, relocated in theme rooms to this expansive space. It was really the tip of the proverbial iceberg! This might give you some inkling of the extent, and levels, of the series of underground passageways. It goes on and on through space and time, revealing that the tunnels were used as a route for the military, a bomb shelter, a storage area for Russian propaganda, a punk rock band practice space, a homeless encampment. As if the sort of creepy space was not creepy enough, there are mannequins dressed in period clothes, colored mood lights, and even some ghostly hologram type stuff. There’s also an above ground portion of the underground museum (three or four floors worth) which is part of remaining section of wall in this once-totally-walled city. My “art shot” of the Orthodox Cathedral, from one of the upstairs windows of the museum. We ventured into this impressive edifice but found it to be dark, gloomy and not at all inviting. It’s pretty from the outside though. You can take a tram or bus to other parts of the city, if you get tired of the historic Old Town, or just want to find out what else Tallinn has to offer. We trammed it to the Kadrioru Park, home to Tsar Peter I’s summer home, Kadrioru Castle (reminiscent of Versailles, and now an art museum) which was closed for the day by the time we got there. We visited the Japanese garden, shown here. One could spend a whole day just visiting this park.Art shot #2, the Town Square turned upside down in an apothecary jar.
Though it seems like a while back now, I wasn’t done reporting on our trip to the Nordic countries back in late May/early June. For one thing, I felt compelled to write about the beautiful day we had in the Southeastern Swedish countryside with our friend Gunhilde.
Our day started at Gunhilde’s current home, which has been in her partner’s family for nine generations. It is a picturesque complex of buildings, stained red in by the traditional method, including a sprawling farmhouse and various outbuildings. (Someone else’s) herd of white cows graze placidly in an adjacent meadow, and the property backs up to the woods. In other words, a setting straight out of a Swedish fairy tale, but minus the mischievous elves and other supernatural and sometimes malevolent beings.
After a leisurely breakfast and gathering ourselves together, we drove to the largest nearby town, making a stop for some errands before our first adventure: a Moose Safari. Basically, you drive your car around a fairly long loop trail in the woods, where the owners have gathered a bunch of moose in a natural setting (for safekeeping I guess, as well as to delight visitors). The moose seem pretty content with this arrangement. (And, this is better than encountering a wild, loose moose around a bend on a country road, it is to be noted.) We learned a lot about moose habits from the informative signage! We did see at least five or six moose, and the “bonus” – a slightly mangy herd of American bison.
Next, back home to the farm, to embark on a scenic walk to a nearby lake. We made an important detour from the lakeside into the farmland to visit Gunhilde’s favorite tiny bakery shop to pick out pastries. (More about how the pastries fit into the perfect Swedish day below.) By way of the lake, and then a stroll through the woods, we looped back to the farmstead.
By then, having had our exercise, we were ready to put the pastries to good use. I think we ate a light dinner first, but then indulged in our pastries not so much as “dessert” but in the traditional Swedish manner of fika. Fika is sort of like a coffee break, or afternoon tea, but really the only rule is that you get to eat some delicious pastries of your choice (cinnamon or cardamon buns are classic), sip a hot beverage, and chat, laugh, and generally enjoy yourselves with friends. You could do fika alone, too, but pastries are still a must, and it’s more fun with company.
The last act of the day was to go pet the cows (Gunhilde sang them a song) and watch the sunset. “Last act” since the sun doesn’t set in the Nordic countries in the summer until almost ten p.m., and is up again by 4 a.m.!
All in all, a really wonderful time and a great break from visiting the cities on our agenda. Experience it here in photos, and here’s hoping you had your own perfect summer day this season. If so, feel free to tell us about it in the comments!
A view of the farmstead, house on left, stables/garage on left, outbuildings in back.Breakfast in the Nordics usually involves bread, cheese, fruit, veggies, muesli, and yogurt. If you’re staying at a hotel that offers breakfast, it is quite a spread involving a lot more food, but here, the basics and then some! This was my best photo of a charming moose we encountered “on safari.” (Unlike safari in Africa, you can hang out the window to get a photo and don’t worry that something is going to jump in and eat you for lunch.)In case you ever wanted to know the most intimate details about moose, such as how they can tell what direction the wind is blowing, you can find out in several languages. Along the lake walk, with ever present birches. Exterior, bakeshop, which is attached to the barn of the farmstead. They also sell plants and second hand items.Interior, bake shop. Steve contemplates our purchases while Gunhilde works out the cash-only payment.Walk through the woods.View of the boggy stand of woods, extremely atmospheric!Our fika spread from the bake shop! I don’t recall what each of these was, but they were all scrumptious.Nature treated us to the perfect ending to a perfect day.
There are vacations , and then, there are experiences of a lifetime. Joining my friend Dorey and six of her other buddies for a stay at Outer Shores Lodge in Bamfield, British Columbia to celebrate a “landmark birthday,” is definitely in the latter category.
We sort of knew what we were “in for” – beautiful scenery, excursions on the water, some cultural and marine biological learning, and – maybe best of all – someone was going to cook for us. But I don’t think any of us were prepared for the superlatives that filled in those basics. Spectacular scenery, amazing excursions, unforgettable learning experiences, and – definitely best of all – having a superbly talented chef and her staff serving us three mouth-watering meals a day (plus bonus happy hour snacks with a view!).
For four days and four nights we reveled in this utopian dream. We forgot that it took us at least five conveyances and two days to get there. We forgot whatever it was that we left behind at home (work? families? obligations? what??). We almost forgot our own names at times I think. We definitely lived in and for the moment, tried everything (well almost – no dips in freezing cold water for me thanks!) And didn’t regret any of it. (mmm, for me, maybe regretting snorkling in a wet suit – not my sport for sure!)
We didn’t need to stray far from the lodge for a lot of action. A bear sauntered through the orchard, and even around the rocky tide pool one morning. The resident bald eagle flew from one group of evergreens to another regularly. Hummingbirds flitted around the feeders and the bright red fuchsia flowers. (The fuchsia bush was right next the the hot tub. Nuff said.) And every night we were treated to a lovely sunset from the bluff above the lodge.
But we did venture out for many adventures. Kayaking, twice. To the nearby beach once. On a picnic to a further island, during which we sighted seals and oyster catchers, and a thrilling, bumpy ride over the waves to even further islands another day, where our group saw a humpback whale, among other things (thanks to the keen eye of our guide/lodge owner Russ).
It was our special privilege one day to be spirited down a spongy, magical rain forest trail to the archeological site of the traditional summer home of a local First Nations community, the Huu-ay-aht. Our guide, Qiic Qiica (aka Keats), not only related the story of the remnants of the buildings, but drummed and sang for us, and his young niece danced, while we perched on rocks on the gorgeous isolated beach near the settlement.
When our four days were up, and we had to face the long trip home, it was quite traumatic. We certainly didn’t want to leave. A week after departing, we are still expressing wonder and gratitude on our text chain. Experiences like this don’t just happen, so we all thank the staff and co-owners of the lodge for making this such a memorable one. (Read about some of them here.) We also have to profusely thank Dorey’s friend and lodge co-owner Becca for all she did to make this trip so special. And of course Becca and Russ’s son, Dylan (who is wise beyond his years but as delightful as any eight year old boy at the same time.) And Simon, who seemed to be everywhere doing everything, from helping in the kitchen, to guiding our kayak expeditions, to dredging up sea cucumbers and sea urchins for our inspection.
It’s hard to pick just a few photos to try to sum up our time in Bamfield, but here’s an attempt. If you ever have a chance to travel to Outer Shores or some other similar destination (I’m sure there are some out there, though we think this was the best ever!), jump on it, even if you have doubts.
An informative sign about the small hamlet of Bamfield greeted us at the dock after our two-hour van ride over the mountains and through the woods. (Several people said it reminded them in many ways of the town depicted in the by-gone tv show, Northern Exposure, but in a good way.)
You know you’re in for something special when this is the path you take to get there.Here’s the lodge from the water just to give some perspective.The first day we got there, we set off after lunch to Brady’s Beach, a not so long walk from the lodge. Some brave souls even took at plunge in the (rather frigid) water, but beach combing and dipping my toes in was fine by me.Our intrepid kayaking “pod.” We saw a baby bear and an eagle on our first trip out. The approach to our guided tour of the First Nations archeology site. These figures are replicas of a pair of carvings depicting the first man and woman. The originals are apparently being repatriated to the community soon.Keats points out a remaining corner post of one of the structures of the village.Drumming, singing and dancing on the beach near the village site. Winding down after a day of activity was easy with appetizers and wine on the back deck facing the inlet!And we’re off! Though this view makes it seem as though we were in a small inflatable, it is actually a pretty substantial rigid-hull boat, but it packs a wallop riding the waves! It doesn’t get fresher than this. The huckleberries gracing this panna cotta, were picked by Dylan and Simon for our eating pleasure earlier in the day. Sorry, bears.Speaking of bears… maybe this one was looking for his lost huckleberries?Becca, who is a marine biologist, gives us a primer on bull kelp. (The bulb holds enough noxious gas to knock out a chicken?!)Sigh, is all I can say.
The Nordic countries are all about water, and ships tell a lot about their intertwined histories. Two excellent museums featuring historic watercraft, the Vasa Museum in Stockholm and the Viking Ships Museum in Roskilde (near Copenhagen) captured our imaginations and filled us in on both the life of the eras the ships represent, and the intricacies of underwater archeology projects on a huge scale.
When we asked friends for advice of what to see in Stockholm, just about everyone suggested the Vasa Museum. Much more than “a museum with a really big ship” (paraphrasing one of my friends), it is a museum with a REALLY big ship (four stories high and about 2/3 as long as a football field) as its centerpiece, and lots of interesting interpretation about the ship’s origins and how it got into the museum.
Basically, this towering war ship was built in the early 1620s to show off the prowess of the Swedish king, Gustav II Adolph. It was elaborately carved and painted, fit out with 64 cannon ports, and could accommodate 130 crew members and 300 soldiers. The problem is, it was not particularly seaworthy, and sunk on its maiden voyage in the Stockholm harbor, within sight of its launching dock.
There it lay, 105 feet below, settling further and further into the mud, until some enterprising individuals in the late 1950s finally conquered the technology to bring it up and stabilize the old wood so it wouldn’t crumble into bits. At the museum, side galleries with the story of this incredible endeavor, as well as galleries exploring the building of the ship and life around the docks in the 1600s, and lots more, garnish the ship itself. But, let’s face it, the sheer bulk and remarkable (relative) state of preservation of the behemoth are the big draw. I would definitely echo the advice of our friends and urge you to put this on your itinerary should you find yourself in Stockholm.
The second ship museum we visited is a short train ride from Copenhagen. This is not a “Viking Museum” per se, but rather a museum housing the iron and (some) wood skeletons of five ships of various sizes from the Viking era. These five ships explain a lot about the day to day life of those times (circa 800-1050 BC). Vikings, many people assume, were just a bunch of rowdy marauders who sailed around plundering other people’s fortunes.
Well, there was actually some of that, but as the ships reveal, not all Viking boats were used for sea-going treasure seeking. There is a small and larger war ship, but also ships used for local travel and ferrying merchandise to market. These ships had served their purposes, and were deliberately sunk in a channel of the fjord (not one of those dramatic fjords like the ones in Norway, but a very pretty body of water with land on three sides anyway) to deter enemy ships from attacking the town.
Like the Vasa, the Viking ships of Roskilde were brought up and preserved. Unlike the Vasa, they were in much shallower water (and also a lot smaller and lighter), and the recovery team was able to build a sort of dam all around the site, pumped out the water, and what was left of the ships emerged from their watery graves. Very cool, and explained in detail in one gallery of the museum.
Having accomplished all sorts of tests on the remaining wood, the scientisits working on the project found that one ship had actually been built in Dublin, Ireland. (Now I understand why there are so many red haired Irish people!?) They built a replica of the ship, and sailed it to Ireland. The ship, and other replicas, reside at the docks of the museum and now you, too, can “play Viking” and help propel this and another replica around the fjord via sails and oars. (We opted out of this activity!) The museum grounds also include boat building and rope making shops.
I must also report that there is a very amazingly imposing cathedral in Roskilde, full of ornate tombs of various Danish royalty. The downtown has some great eating options, (including an Indian restaurant we treated ourselves to). So, this small city makes a great day trip from Copenhagen.
Two museums in two Nordic countries, lots of history represented in their ships. Check them out in some photos below, and visit them if you go on some Nordic Adventures of your own.
The bow end of the Vasa has an impressive amount of carving, relatively well preserved.A scale model replica is near the original, to show how the ship would have been painted in its heyday.Some of the carvings have been replicated and painted in the original colors as well. They were meant to be imposing, impressive, and scary to foes. Big boat indeed! Note the tiny little people poised on the various overlooking balconies for scale!Viking Ships Museum showing several of the five ships. Not as much “meat on the bones” as the Vasa, but several hundred years older so what do you expect? Beautiful view of the fjord from the wall of windows. Boat building shop, as it says on the sign they were currently building a traditional Faroe Islands boat.The replica that was sailed to Ireland, ready to take visitors out for a Viking experience!Bonus, non ship photo: Roskilde Cathedral.Bonus #2, interior of one of the tomb rooms in the Cathedral.
Just because something is old doesn’t mean it can’t find new purpose. Okay, maybe I am also thinking of people (like the recently retired person I am now), but it is true of historic building complexes as well. As we found on our recent adventures to several Nordic countries, Finland has some remarkable examples of adaptive reuse, in these cases from military and industrial complexes to tourist destinations.
On our first full day in Helsinki, our “local guide” (my old friend Carolyn, who knows the city well after living there for many months) pointed out the gray hulk of an island, Suomenlinna, visible from the harbor. After we sampled some reindeer meatballs from one of the food stalls in the lively market, we hopped on a ferry to visit the former fortress.
It’s a short boat ride, but a different world from the city bustle at this UNESCO World Heritage site, which is actually spread over several islands and countless buildings. One is a church which, during Russian occupation, was Eastern Orthodox but morphed into Lutheran in the early 1900s when the Finns took over. It’s now a popular wedding destination, and several well dressed guests headed for just such an occasion got off the boat with us.
After negotiating a somewhat confusing map, we found our along the cobblestones, past the church and to one of several museums on the grounds. The tangled history of the island unfolded through artifacts, videos and fun interactives. After absorbing as much as our still slightly jet lagged minds could, we got back outside to explore more of the islands.
Traversing the Great Courtyard, paying homage to the grant ship-shaped tomb of Augustin Ehrenvard, who is credited with the design of the fortress and other feats, we ventured out to the ramparts to take in the sweeping views of the buildings and the Helsinki harbor.
On our way back to the ferry, throughly worn out by walking only a fraction of the fortress, we stopped to admire the scale of the working dry dock, built in the 1750s and today used to repair wooden sailing ships. Yes, Suomenlinna is not just a tourist attraction, it’s a working shipyard, and also home to about 800 full-time residents.
On the return boat trip, perched at the upper deck to admire the view, it started aggressively drizzling and the wind whipped up. No one (including the well dressed wedding goers returning back to the city) made a run for the sheltered lower decks. This is when Carolyn introduced us to the Finnish concept of sisu, roughly translated as “toughing it out.” (I found this concept applicable while icing down my aching knees that night.)
The next day, we took a bus, train and taxi to another, quite different, complex of repurposed buildings at Fiskars Village. Fiskars may ring a bell as a very popular brand of scissors (the ones with the orange handles). Established as an industrial complex in 1649, today Fiskars has been reimagined as a home to a number of artists workshops, a museum in the old business offices, several nice cafes, and of course a very extensive shop carrying every type of Fiskars products one can imagine. (You can also live there if you want to “join a creative community and settle down in this unique and inspiring village.”)
Not sure if our collective map reading skills are defective or it’s just that Finnish tourist maps in general are hard to decipher, but it took us awhile to get oriented. We finally found sustenance to fortify our visit at one of the cafes (substantial open faced roast vegetable and toasted sandwiches) and set off for the museum.
There, we learned, among other things, that there was quite a struggle by local politicians and officials to get the project of converting Fiskars Village into an artist colony and tourist destination off the ground. Luckily, they succeeded.
Hours later, after locating the blacksmiths and glass blowing shops, admiring the brickwork of the many buildings, tracing the creek that provided water power, poking around in several other artists’ shops, and dodging a thunderstorm, we just barely procured a taxi back to the train station in time to catch our ride back to the city. (Note, visits to Fiskars seem much more geared toward car travel than public transportation.)
Two destinations, two very different histories, one aim to repurpose historic sites and keep heritage alive. Hats off to those who had the sisu to make this possible for visitors from around the world. Here are some images of the two sites with some further explanations.
To get to Suomelinna, you leave downtown Helsinki behind and take a short ferry. Here, a view of the massive Upspenski Greek Orthodox cathedral which is a Helsinki landmark. Looking back toward Helsinki from the Suomelinna ramparts, you can see it is not far from the city. But still seems a world away. There are lots of passageways and other crevices of the fortress to explore. But, man, those cobblestones are a killer to walk on!The memorial to Augustin Ehrensvärd. (He’s apparently not buried here, just memorialized in a grand fashion.)Not just me, but several visitors to the fortress described these bunker-like buildings as straight out of The Hobbit! Here, a family enjoys the view and a picnic, as do many families during weekends at Suomelinna. On the observation deck of the dry dock, with church in the background. One more view of a portion of the fortress with a placid waterway in between. The most imposing centerpiece of Fiskars Village is this massive building, which now houses shops and a cafe. It served as our shelter when a thunderstorm threatened.A large part of Fiskars is a bucolic delight, running along a quiet stream. There’s a lovely lake at the top of the hill near the museum as well.The museum interprets not only the historic products of the ironworks, and the offices, but also the living space of the workers. Loved this embroidered quilt, though the bed doesn’t look too comfortable!The nice quiet stream gives way to rushing waters in several places that fueled the industry. View of another building at Fiskars, beautiful brickwork.There is really no explanation of what this is, but it seems like a perfect place to pose for photos! All in all, two great experiences in Finland thanks to our tour guide, Carolyn!
I’m not sure I trust anyone who doesn’t like cake. Sorry, that is just how it is. So, when I was thinking about a new blog topic, I thought of occasions past, captured in photos, and my mind went immediately to cake. (Especially since I had already written about noodles.)
Do all families have a “signature cake”? I suspect many do. Ours, going into its third generation, is a sour cream coffee cake with nuts, which is equally good for breakfast, a mid-morning or afternoon snack, or for dessert. It’s buttery, cinnamony, and just totally delicious. It is known by the name “Jewish Nut Ring” in our family, although we are not Jewish, and I think that my mother got the recipe from a women’s magazine, probably sometime in the 1950s. Our recipe is very much like this one but we would never, NEVER add raisins or chocolate chips as suggested here, and ours includes walnuts, not pecans, and involves pouring melted butter on top before baking. My mom had a special round pan for this (now my sister has it), but I found a suitable one years ago at a yard sale for just this purpose.
Do all families also have signature birthday cakes? I know many who do. My sister’s was a white cake, baked in a rectangular baking dish, split in half and spread with apricot jam, reassembled and coated generously with whipped cream. I think it fell out of favor some time ago. Mine is a keeper – the Chocolate Pinwheel Cake, very much like this one, which has been tracked down to a 1954 recipe “courtesy of Baker’s Chocolate and Carnation Evaporated Milk,” two of the main ingredients. So, though I never asked her about it, is likely to stem from my mom browsing through those women’s mags again.
Our version, passed down through a series of hand-written recipe cards and pieces of dog-eared note paper, has an important difference from the above recipe, in that the filling has a healthy (or unhealthy) dose of instant coffee instead of more chocolate. And, really, more chocolate is not what is needed in this cake. Swirling an unadulterated, and almost obscene, amount of pure melted semi-sweet chocolate into the batter to make the “pinwheel” design is the key methodology. When it cools, it forms an intense, crunchy chocolate orgy, which is offset somewhat by the fluffy, not too sweet mocha filling.
Various other cakes have come and gone, witnessed by this little parade of photos, but these are the two with the most memories and staying power. It’s no wonder, as they are delicious, but also evoke special times in the kitchen and at the table, sharing sweet moments bite by bite. I’d love to hear about other cake memories!
The classic nut ring. My mother, sister and I have made hundreds of these over the years, and my daughter is the third generation baker in possession of the recipe. One of the many Chocolate Pinwheel Cakes, and since this is not my cake plate (or my countertop), I think this one was made at my sister’s house. The cake assembly is tricky, as it involves cutting the two rounds in half each, to make four layers, with scrumptious filling in between each and around the edges. You have to pick the prettiest “swirl” for the exposed top layer.My sister doesn’t bother with standard women’s magazines, she subscribes to Bon Apetite and Gourmet…and often finds complicated recipes that we need to execute during the holidays. The inside of this cake, made by my daughter M.E. (who is a really good baker) was even more complex than the Pinwheel cake, with a layer of cake filled and rolled into a big round. That’s why she’s looking so satisfied with herself for pulling it off!Maybe baking complicated cakes rubbed off on her at a young age, after being impressed by her mother’s (somewhat amateurish) rendition of Mickey for her second birthday? Doubt if I will try this one again, but I was inspired when I read a book that had the recipe included. You, too, can read the book and recreate Burnt Sugar Cake with Maple Frosting at this link! Or just bake the cake if you don’t have time to read the book. (It was an okay book, though, but the cake was better than the book, in my opinion.)
This late winter and early spring, a recurring theme in my scattered photo topics has been the varied world of plants: alive, extracted, in bloom or semi-dormant. Flowers, definitely, but beyond their showy riot, some strange and wondrous plant-adjacent places and things to ponder.
The best way to share this kaleidoscope of colors, mixtures, and marvels is through photos with captions. And so, enjoy, and think about the plants in your sphere, some of which you might be overlooking or taking for granted in your daily life or far-flung adventures.
Back in February, my friend Lise and I visited the eclectic Museum on O Street. I was enchanted by the garden at the front of the museum, depicting Alice in Wonderland (sporting a red rose for Valentine’s Day) and the early hellebores at the far right, the earliest of blooms in our area. The museum in general is worth a visit if you have several hours and don’t mind spending $30 to explore countless rooms full of secret passages and strange juxtapositions. Locals, you’ve got til the end of April to catch the as-usual-great orchid exhibition in the Kogod Courtyard between the Museum of American Art and the Portrait Gallery! My former intern and long time colleague Katy sent me peonies for a retirement present. They were in various stages of bloom, so became “the gift that keeps on giving.” The peonies in my garden, this reminded me, are the legacy of my great aunt’s garden in Blairstown, NJ. I dug up a bunch of rhizomes many years ago and they still flourish though my aunt has been gone for years. Friends and family old and new, flowers binding us all.You probably need to zoom in to read the ingredients of this alarming antique tonic which was displayed on the window ledge of Beans in the Belfy, an old church turned cafe in the river town of Brunswick, Maryland (visited by my friend Debi and I for our almost annual afternoon tea treat, falling somewhere around or between or birthdays). If you get beyond the alcohol and – gasp – CHLOROFORM – there are a list of botanicals including wild cherry. Speaking of cherry… you can’t get away without a shot of the iconic blooming cherry trees around the Tidal Basin. They made their appearance early this year, peaking even before the Cherry Blossom Festival started, and as usual coinciding with spring breaks so that the crowds were enormous. Many locals skip a visit for just that reason, which is a shame. They never get old.Another thing that never gets old is a good sunrise on the beach. Got this snap through the beach grass while visiting my sister in Hilton Head Island, SC. The sunrise is more dramatic with a foil such as some handy plant life!In the category of “who knew?!” our visiting friend Rita and I ducked into this urban farm called Area 2 Farms off of Four Mile Run. The unassuming door to an old paper warehouse opens to a thriving business, providing greens and veggies of various sorts to subscribers. The hydraulic set up with lights, watering systems, and other stuff I didn’t really understand was fascinating and maximizes what can be grown in this indoor space. Finally, my favorite photo of me at the retirement party I shared with long time buddy and colleague Diana. (Who sent me the photo. Thanks for photo bombing, Erin, though I could have “removed you” thanks to Google Photos, but didn’t even try!) It’s been a whirlwind of flowers and plants and other wonders for the past few months!
Noodles. Such a silly-sounding word for something so delicious and endlessly variable, eaten by most cultures around the world, and beloved in our family.
Apparently the English “noodle” comes from the German “nudel” in case you’re interested. The word “noodles” conjures up comfort in my mind. Generously buttered and salted egg noodles were always the go-to food in our family when tummies were upset, or one was just feeling down. My sister and I still like to eat any kind of leftover buttered noodles for breakfast, even when we are happy. (Despite the possible guilt brought on by the calories, and sodium and cholesterol bomb.)
I recall one of my first encounters with a noodle that was not buttered or smothered in a vaguely Italian tomato-based sauce. (I’m looking at you, Chef Boyardee…and also remembering my mother’s signature canned tomato-soup, bacon and bell pepper spaghetti sauce recipe.) I was maybe about six or seven, and our family was having a rare meal out, at a Chinese restaurant in Patterson, New Jersey. I demanded spaghetti.
No amount of the grown-ups trying to explain that “Chinese people did not eat spaghetti” would console me. I had to have spaghetti; nothing else would do. And so, the waiter, who knew perfectly well that “Chinese people” might not call it spaghetti but certainly did eat noodles, brought something that was, well, not spaghetti but was definitely in the noodle family. Lo mein maybe? Wish I could say it was a big hit with me, but I think someone else had to eat it.
Fast forward to international cuisine opening to me like the beautiful flower it is. My personal awakening involving various noodle dishes thankfully got better as I got older. I recall the first time the amazing world of Vietnamese pho was revealed to me, back around 1990 when visiting my colleague Lynn in Hawaii. (Then the state folk arts coordinator of Hawaii, but later to become my friend and confidant when she moved to the same position in New Hampshire, and we conspired in the co-curation of the 1999 New Hampshire program… but that is another story entirely.)
I almost cried out to my huge bowl of noodles, swimming together in fragrant broth with its compatriots of lean beef, Thai basil, and bean sprouts – “Where have you been all my life?” Well, maybe I’m being dramatic, but still. It was truly life-changing. Move over, buttered noodles, there’s another crave-worthy comfort food in town.
Today, as for many years, the homemade noodles and dumplings at Chinatown Express in what is left of downtown DC’s Chinatown is the go-to for cheap and authentic eats. Many an intern has been introduced to this modest, no-frills establishment on 6th Street, and it is a de rigueur outing for my daughter and I whenever she visits DC. I even convinced our office to order a boatload of dumplings and noodles from there for our holiday party this past year. I should be getting a commission?!
Our new family favorite at the Vietnamese complex, The Eden Center (usually where we go for pho because you can just throw a lime wedge in any direction and hit a place serving pho there) is actually a tiny Thai Street Food joint, Kao Sarn. Their noodle soups will bring back the memory of eating at any small partially outdoor stall in Bangkok or Chiang Mai by anyone who has visited Thailand and experienced “real street food. ” (Well, except for the price, but then you don’t have to fly half way across the globe to eat here if you’re a local, so there’s that.)
In short, there’s a whole world of noodles out there to conquer, and while nowadays I am partial to Asian noodle dishes, despite my childhood encounter with “Chinese spaghetti,” I have absolutely nothing against attacking noodles and noodle-adjacent dishes of all shapes, sizes, sauces, and cultural origins with gusto. Pierogies, halushki, ravioli, wagon wheels, seashells, carbonara, momos, spaetzle, ramen, udon, soba… the list is inexhaustible.
Hungry yet? If not, these photos of various noodle experiences will surely put you over the edge. Go forth, eat noodles, and be comforted.
I honestly don’t recall what noodle dish this is, but I would eat it again in a heartbeat. One of the many trips to Chinatown Express, I think with friend and colleague Lora. I usually default to the chicken noodle soup, though all the flavors I’ve tried have been equally yummy. As well as the dumplings. And the scallion oil accompaniment is a revelation too. Whenwe visited Hanoi, Steve discovered he could order pho for breakfast. Not only that, but after he polished off one bowl, he could ask for another. The tiny hotel we were staying in did not have its own kitchen, they just stepped outside into the alley and flagged down a street vendor.Our friend Ang, who was our cultural guide during a trip to Thailand, demonstrates how to eat “real Thai street food” in Chiang Mai. M.E. slurps up some Boat Noodle Soup at the Eden Center. Just before Christmas last year, we visited Philadelphia. Their Chinatown has some amazing noodle establishments as well, including this one. Honestly, I do not recall taking this photo but it came up when I searched my photos for “noodles.” I think I would skip “sauerkraut balls” (sorry to say) but cabbage and noodles, called by the Slovaks “halushki,” is always OK by me.A big old bowl of Japanese noodles with a side of California roll, in New York City. Excuse me while I start dinner…
For us Washington, DC types, New York City can seem pretty daunting. But, with the right guidance and a spirit of adventure, it is also energizing and endlessly interesting. My guide for a short visit last week to “The City” as my mother used to call it (because she grew up in and around it) was one of my favorite people, Hanna, who I met way back in grad school in the 1980s.
Hanna met me at what is now called Moynihan Train Hall, aka Penn Station. The layout of the hall is confusing, and it took at least a half hour to figure out where to meet one another. (How did we ever find each other before cell phones?) I might have eventually found myself to her apartment in the Upper West Side (with an amazing view of the George Washington Bridge), but maybe not, so I really appreciated her city sherpa-like skills and willingness to fetch me.
During my first full day, Hanna and I had a morning nature walk along the Hudson River on the Fort Washington Park trail. She introduced me to the Little Red Lighthouse which is a testimony to the power of literature. The decommissioned lighthouse was in peril of being auctioned off in 1948m but was saved by lovers of a beloved children’s book by Hildegarde Swift and Lynd Ward. We also had a surprising encounter along the trail – see pictures below to find out what it was!
In the afternoon, Hanna walked me to the Cloisters, which is officially part of the Metropolitan Museum, located on the edge of Fort Tryon Park on a bluff above the Hudson. My curiosity to visit this relocated Medieval melange of buildings and artworks was piqued by recently reading the murder mystery, The Cloisters, by Katy Hays. (Encore, the power of literature?) Experiencing the atmosphere of somber gray stone and viewing masterpieces of religious art, tapestries, sculptures, stained glass, illuminated manuscripts and strangely shaped reliquaries made a couple of hours fly by. The gardens were not at their best in the winter, of course, but it’s a good reason to come back in the late spring/summer/fall sometime in the future.
Next day, I started off by visiting another museum I had never been to in NYC, the New York Historical Society, on the edge of Central Park. Hanna had business around 91st Street, so I walked from there to the museum’s 77th and Central Park West location, an adventure in and of itself. As my mother always explained, the numbered blocks in NYC are “short blocks” but by the time I reached the museum, they did not feel so short. The three floors of great exhibitions was worth the effort, though. I especially enjoyed the Tiffany Lamps, and learned that (of course) a woman, Clara Driscoll, designed most of them.
After Hanna caught up with me, we made our way to a Georgian restaurant, Chama Mama in Chelsea, and ordered that hot cheesy wonder, the khachapuri. Onward, fortified, to view the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire Memorial near (or even on) the NYU campus. Continuing on the power of literature theme, years ago I read the engrossing if quirky novel of historic New York, Dreamland, by Kevin Baker and never forgot the wrenching part about the fire and the (mostly young women) who perished in it.
The final exhibition visit was at the City Lore gallery, to view an exhibition on African American doll and puppet makers curated by another of my favorite people, Camila Bryce LaPorte, and friends/colleagues Diana N’Diaye and Phyllis May-Machunda. (The exhibition is only up for another couple of weeks, so visit fast if you’re in NYC or traveling there.)
After a jolly Japanese dinner with several NY area based folklore women, Hanna and I made our way back to her apartment (I definitely would have gotten lost on my own, as we transferred twice on this subway trip). Next day, after breakfast, she guided me back to Penn Station and I got on the train back to DC armed with “a bagel and a schmear” for the road.
A perfect post-retirement treat of a trip, all around, and largely thanks to Hanna. Here are some photos of the experience!
Hanna poses with her morning coffee near the Little Lighthouse. Note skyline in distance.Apparently, displaced deer are not so unusual in this area, but this little girl calmly strolling in the shadow of the GW Bridge was a surprise to us!There are no bad views of the interior of the Cloisters, it seems. Okay, so Tunisia is still on my mind so I had to take a snap of this fanciful camel. It seems camels came to medieval Spain as a curiosity with “The Moors.” There are several iconic gardens. Not much blooming outside but a few helibores and perrenial herbs this time of year, but you can see the potential and the setting is still gorgeous. Edgar Allan Poe really got around during his relatively short life. I should write a blog sometime about my encounters with his memory in Baltimore, Charlottesville, Richmond, Providence, and now NYC. But I might need to visit the Raven statues first, which I did not this time around.Also seen on my walk between the 90s and the 70s, a masterful knit bomb by artist Carmen Paulino, AKA Carmen Community Artist. I especially like the 3-D rat.A view of the many variations of the Tiffany Lamps at the Historical Society Museum. There was a fun interactive in the upstairs portion where you could change the colors of the glass on a lampshade. Khachapuri, a great reward for all that walking and art and history viewing. A salad on the side just because.Triangle Fire memorial. It took us a minute to figure out you could see the names of all the victims reflected in the polished (glass? marble?)etched with quotes. A great deal of information is packed into a small space in “The Calling: The Transformative Power of African American Doll and Puppet Making” exhibition at the City Lore gallery. Definitely worth a visit!
