B F Clyde’s Cider Mill – Mystic CT

After getting our share of apple picking at Wittle Willow’s Spring Farm we continued our apple-centric adventures by driving a few minutes down the road to B F Clyde’s Cider Mill. It’s claim to fame is that it is the US’s only steam powered cider mill still running today. And it sometimes gives tours – although it appears only on the weekend and we were there on a Thursday so I apologize for my complete and utter lack of photos.

What I can say is this place was hoppin’! SO MANY PEOPLE had gathered here and it was pretty clear why. They had everything here. Regular cider, hard cider in more varieties than I could easily count, all sorts of old timey county store type things (like the pumpkin pancake mix and pumpkin butter we ended up bringing home) and I was thrilled they had apple cider doughnuts too which I gluttonously ate while sipping a cup of hot cider. It was then as we were all sitting around just enjoying ourselves that the jig was finally up. My companion looked up from his phone.

“It’s your birthday?!”

“Yeah…”

He looked around at where we were, where we had come from, and what we were eating. “This is kinda an awesome birthday.”

“It is!” I laughed.

After this we ambled around some more. There was another little shop there with more touristy things and I bought a magnet figuring it was high time to replace the ones on my fridge currently. Outside this there was a tasting station for all the various hard ciders (and wines? Champaign is a wine I think. Fuck if I know, I’m a teetotaler. ANYWAY…) Across from this they were setting up a hard cider slushee station which our friend gave a go. Sounds like some fresh hell to me but he was impressed and that’s all that matters.

This place was amazing and I left stuffed to the gills but we weren’t done. From here we’d walk off those doughnuts at the Old Mystic Village.

October 2, 2021 0

Apple Picking at Whittle Willow’s Spring Farm in Mystic Connecticut

Thursday was my birthday but I really didn’t feel like celebrating. I have been in a stress-induced haze for a year and didn’t make my goal of publishing another book on my birthday as is the tradition I set for myself. As such I was feeling less like my birthday was about celebrating surviving another year of life and more about marking down I was another year closer to death which seemed a bit grim. And because of this I didn’t give anyone any warning it was my birthday.

I did try to figure out something cool to do but I was coming up short so I did what I always do in these situations – I left it up to the Universe – “If you want me to celebrate my birthday, you figure something out.” And it did! Sort of out of nowhere we ended up getting together with another friend who suggested we go apple picking. I haven’t been apple picking since I was just a wee one so the thought of it definitely tickled my brain. Yes, this would be the perfect way to spend my birthday – and was it ever!

We ended up going to the Wittle Willow’s Spring Farm in Mystic Connecticut. They had a lovely little farm stand set up and both an apple orchard and a pumpkin patch to pick from. They handed us some brown paper bags and off we wandered into the vague direction they were pointing. We were told there were lots of McIntosh, some Granny Smiths, some Red Delicious, and a few Golden Delicious somewhere out there. And so we wandered out into the orchard which was… not marked in any way and the trees didn’t even grow in proper rows but seemed to be dotted at random. We found some Granny Smiths but they too were not in a cluster but rather smattered about in between all the McIntosh. It was pure chaos and only about to get more chaotic.

For here in the middle of the orchard was a neatly groomed stone wall with a tiny old family cemetery within it. There was even a sign dating it to the 1700’s. How ironic is that that we went to probably the only orchard with a cemetery in it?! Obviously I was charmed. Meanwhile my companion was charmed with a singular pair tree just hanging out and chilling.

“They’re just funny looking apples.” My dry sense of humor is sometimes lost on those who have to endure it.

When we all had our paper sack loaded up we headed back to weigh and buy them. It was $1.50 a pound and we all made out like bandits. I’ll be making apple butter and probably apple sauce. There was talk of apple juice, pancakes, and pies.

And then we finished our little adventure playing with some pigs sleeping in a wallow. There were three big sows and maybe a couple dozen piglets and the farm stand was selling lettuce and corn to feed them as treats. The second they heard the first lettuce leaf being plucked off they all woke up and ran to the fence. From there it was just a feeding frenzy with the big mamas grunting in disapproval whenever the treats ran dry. The largest one seemed most insistent nuzzling the fence and grunting. She reminded me of a dog with weirdly human looking eyes. The whole scene reminded me of the happy days I lived on a farm throwing one grape at a time into the chicken pen and watching 50 or so hens all make a mad dash for it. Someday I will return to this life but for now I found it very cathartic to just visit.

Our adventures were just starting for the day because after this we wanted to go to nearby B F Clyde’s Cider Mill where I was hoping to score an apple cider doughnut in lieu of a birthday cake.

October 2, 2021 0

The Tavern on Main – Chepachet Rhode Island

After visiting the nearby Carl Erickson Covered Bridge, the country’s oldest consecutively running general store, and a series of antique stores, we finally managed to get to our final destination of the day – the reportedly haunted Tavern on Main for a good dinner.

Mind you, it’d been a harrowing journey and I had been suffering from heat stroke for hours so I wasn’t exactly in the best of shape when I showed up. Add to that the fact that just prior to going into the tavern I’d made the mistake of trying a sip of sarsaparilla which did not go down well!

I showed up at the tavern red as a lobster and unable to string together a cohesive thought (which is probably why I somehow managed to wear a mask on my face and another around my neck at the same time without noticing.) ANYWAY… we had come here because we heard the place was supposed to be haunted and who doesn’t love a good haunted bar? The place was very old looking. They had decked it out in rustic 1800’s style. I was surprised the menu however was decidedly not rustic in any way shape or form. In fact it was downright worldly for a place like this.

I ended up ordering the Pecan Chicken which came on a bed of butternut squash ravioli. My companion got steak tenderloins which came out in a massive dish. I would have loved to have eaten my chicken but my stomach was violently angry at the abuses I put it through earlier in the day so I spent much of the next forty five minutes just sighing and looking at my food longingly. That being said I did bring it home and eat it later and it was fantastic!

I am sure we will be back. Probably whenever we get to find the nearby ghost village in the woods which we didn’t get to that day. Either way it was a lovely experience with polite staff and delicious food. With or without ghosts I’d still recommend this place.

August 15, 2021 0

Silver Street Tavern – Waterville Maine

By the end of our first day in Maine we’d already been to WAY too many destinations looking for shoes, got distracted by a record shop, and finally ended up with grumbling bellies around dinnertime.

My travel companion was actually more of a romantic interest who I’d “met” just before the Covid plague hit and in the convening months I had allowed for in-person meet and greets and gone on dates of sorts out in the woods (hiking) but I had stayed well away from restaurants. I’d been a good quarantine subject – avoiding these luxuries and only going to peopled places when I had to. But I did mention if he wanted to keep me happy all he had to do was keep me fed and we’d already been goddamn everywhere. I relented, telling him Maine restaurants are usually…. intensely underwhelming. I mean I’ve been served sliced Wonder bread before the meal before. Sliced Wonder bread. This shit just doesn’t fly anywhere near actual civilization.

He seemed fine with this potential failure and picked the Silver Street Tavern at random. A tavern? Oh lord, I thought to myself. I don’t drink so even before the plague came to town I avoided places like these. I also wasn’t one to eat out very often. I’d been food poisoned by large chains one too many times.

It seemed a nice enough place. There was seating outside but it was directly under the blazing sun at this time of day so we went in where a few parties were sitting, all quite far from each other. The waitress had a mask on and so did we as we ordered.

“What do you want for an appetizer?”

“Appetizer…? You already know I don’t eat much. Order what you want.”

“Quesadillas?”

“Well that is a really hard thing to fuck up. Will be interesting to see how they can fuck it up. Go for it.” I smiled.

Despite my cynicism I was enjoying the overly cheerful waitress and the gorgeous tin ceilings. My date was enamored with the black and white photos and little historical timelines littering the place. Apparently this insanely common decorating style hasn’t hit Rhode Island? I shrugged. Enthusiasm does endear me.

At one point he got up to use the restrooms and left me seated suddenly in full view of an old couple across the room. The old man saw my flamboyantly orange, red, and yellow hair and matching dress code and gave me the meanest stink eye I have seen in a LONG time. But I couldn’t help but laugh because in that same second his wife also spotted me and her whole face just lit right up with this big beautiful smile. WOW, I couldn’t have seen a more different reaction from a couple if I tried!

When the quesadillas came out I was shocked. Not only were they good they were really good, perhaps the best I’ve ever eaten, which is weird because quesadillas are one of those foods that are more or less the same everywhere. Like corn muffins. OK, I’m slowly being won over.

The main course was even better. I ordered pasta – again thinking this is something that’s really hard to fuck up – and they knocked it out of the goddamn park! The chicken was moist and delicious, the alfredo sauce the linguine swam in seemed to actually be made from scratch, this was AWESOME. And my date thought his meal of some sort of meat dish was just as great.

Dammit, now I am going to have to put this on the list of places to come back to.

August 2, 2020 0