A bit of Bristol.

Bristol, Rhode Island is a town full of ancient clapboard houses (lovingly preserved), grass beaches (with oh-so-rocky shorelines) and lots and lots of boats.

My aunt and uncle bought this historic house last year, and it is absolutely adorable. The rooms are small (the better to heat in a New England winter), and the house rambles around in that way peculiar to homes built before 1900. Even better, it's a block from the water and comes complete with sea breeze and harbor views.

I woke up early every morning and ventured out to the front porch to enjoy the cool temperatures, strong coffee and doorstep-delivered newspaper.

My Aunt Cathi's hydrangeas thrive on the bright sun and cool fog.

On three of my four mornings, I took a walk around town, looping back around to the house by way of High Street, where I spotted my very favorite house of all.

I spotted this oxidized copper gate on Walley Street. It sported elephants and swans, but these dudes were my favorites.

The Lobster Pot is a happening place, you know?

For putting boats in the water.

The church book sale. They had a complete set of V.C. Andrews. No comment.

Fireworks!


This float struck me as very David Lynch. It came toward the beginning of the three-hour Fourth of July parade; I eventually decamped to the beach. The perfect balance, in my opinion.

Consider.

When my Aunt Cathi is around, one always eats well, and this weekend in Bristol was no exception. There were local yogurt with berries and her own homemade granola, homemade buttermilk waffles with fruit and whipped cream, steak with roasted asparagus...you name it.

And, on the Fourth of July, there were lobsters.

If you're a die-hard vegetarian, I highly recommend you skip the rest of this post.

I killed those lobsters, you guys. I killed them dead. Typically, I steam lobsters, along with clams, mussels and potatoes, in a couple bottles of wine. If you're going to do that, the best and most humane thing to do is to kill the lobsters with a knife between the eyes before you put them in the pot.

But if you're going to boil them, as we did ours this weekend, then you can just drop them in the boiling water. I've also heard tell that the best way to do boiled lobster is to start them in a cold pot and heat the water up around them, but I haven't seen any evidence that it's more humane.

It's interesting, you know, that the killing and eating of lobsters is so fraught for so many. After all, animals with far more complex brains die for our (non-vegetarian) meals every day. And I kill mussels and clams myself on a regular basis. Why should a lobster be different?

Well, it moves, doesn't it? It's a decent size, and it has distinguishable limbs, and it's altogether alive. But while I don't relish the idea of slaughtering my own meat on a regular basis, I can't help but think that being willing to take care of business where a lobster is concerned is an omnivore's duty. After all, if I plan to eat it, I should probably be forced to look it in the eye at some point.

If you feel like pondering the issue further, I highly recommend Consider the Lobster by the late David Foster Wallace. It's pretty excellent. (And a pretty good argument for why Gourmet was unique among food magazines.)

If you don't, here's a recipe for lobster.

Aunt Cathi's Lobster Boil

Giant stock pot half-filled with water
5 lobsters, about 1 1/2 pounds each
1 lemon
1/2 stick salted butter*

Set the stock pot on the stove, cover, and bring to a boil. Gently place the lobster in the boiling water and replace the cover. Cook for 11 minutes, or until the lobsters are bright red and the antennae pull off easily.

Meanwhile, slice the lemon into five wedges and melt the butter over low heat.

When the lobsters are done cooking, remove from the water with tongs, allowing each to drain a bit over the pot before placing on a plate or platter.

Serve the lobsters one to a person, with ample napkins, lobster crackers and tiny forks to go alongside. Portion the butter out into five ramekins and place a lemon wedge alongside. Go to town.

Serves five.

*This is pretty much the only time I'll tell you to use salted butter.

Cool down.

Reader, we recently discussed my love of Micheladas. I'm here today to sing the praises of another beer-based cocktail, the Shandy. In the UK, they make these with carbonated lemonade. This weekend, though, inspired by a bottle of IPA standing next to a jug of fresh lemonade, I decided to go low-fi.

The IPA was a bit bitter, which I figured would make a nice foil to the sweetened lemonade. I filled two glasses halfway with the lemonade, then popped open the beer and topped the glasses off. The technique is similar to what you'd do to make a Bellini or Mimosa - and just as easy.

The result? A refreshing, awfully pretty drink perfectly suited to afternoon drinking, especially for those of us who aren't terribly good day drinkers. (I tend to dive headfirst into a nap by 5 PM if booze enters my system before 4.) Not that you shouldn't have it with dinner. Or after dinner. Or whenever you like.

It's summer; live a little!

Independence Day.

Not the movie, the holiday! (Though I do love that movie, in all its brash, ridiculous American-ness. Plus, aliens!)

I'm spending the Fourth in Bristol, Rhode Island, the self-proclaimed most patriotic town in America. My cousins and I are sitting on the front porch at this very moment, listening to the Boss sing Born In The USA and waiting for Bristol's celebrated (and four-hour) parade to kick off.

I've taken a few walks around town during my stay, and have snapped photos of some of my favorite decorations. Bristol is nothing if not up on its bunting.

I hope you and yours have a wonderful holiday. Enjoy the sun, the surf, the turf, whatnot, and try not to think about the fact that tomorrow is a workday.

Happy Fourth!

Road trip!

This past Saturday, I drove up to Rhode Island to visit my aunt and uncle in Bristol. They were hosting a 30th birthday party for my cousin Kate, who's been one of my closest friends pretty much since time began. (See the photo below for evidence.) We had a fantastic time - my Aunt Cathi cooked up a storm, including some of the most delicious chicken Marsala of all time (the secret is roasting the mushrooms and onions separately and with lots of balsamic vinegar).

Yesterday, on the way back to the city, my cousin Jason, his wife Abby and I stopped at a McDonald's in northern Connecticut for a road trip fix. I only indulge in Mickey D's a couple of times a year, and always when traveling. It's my airport and highway rest stop food of choice, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Chicken nuggets, fries and Sweet & Sour sauce: pure, salty perfection. Yum.

A classic.

When I stepped off the bus in Rhode Island a few weeks back, Aunt Cathi declared that we would do some shopping for dinner, and then visit Al Forno for a pizza and cocktails.

I'd heard of Al Forno, but had never visited before. Legendary in New England for its thin-crust pizzas and n0-reservations policy, Al Forno has been central to Providence's dining scene since the day it opened in 1980. For years I listened to people on eGullet wax eloquent about Al Forno's superlative pizza - and now, finally, here was the chance to try for myself.

Since we arrived about five minutes after the restaurant opened at 5 o'clock, Cathi and I were able to snag a table in the arbor-covered garden, where we ordered a margherita pizza and two cosmopolitans.

The cosmos arrived first. Now, as you all know, I am much more a gin girl than a vodka girl - but these cosmos really were spectactular. They were what cosmos are supposed to be. The sickly, syrupy pink cocktails you saw on Sex And The City were a poor substitute for a good cosmopolitan. A proper cosmo should put you in mind of a slightly pink gimlet (made with fresh lime juice), not a CapriSun.

These were proper cosmos.

Then came the pizza. What can I say? It was delicious. The tomato sauce was rich with deep flavor, the two kinds of cheese (mozzarella and parmesan) contrasted fresh with rich, and the shaved scallions on top lent the pizza a fresh, peppery bite that I loved.

I see what all the fuss is about, and I'll definitely be back.

To market, to market...in Rhode Island.

Before we took our bike ride to lobster roll heaven, Aunt Cathi and I did some shopping for Saturday night's dinner. She had planned a seafood-heavy feast (always music to this landlubber's ears): steamers, angel hair pasta with crab, tomato, wine and herbs and panzanella (bread salad with cucumbers and tomatoes).

Our first stop was the Sakonnet Growers' market in Tiverton, where we picked up cucumbers (the green kind, not the round yellows ones above) and basil for the salad. The market was small (compared to the sometimes overwhelming bustle of the Union Square Greenmarket), but well-stocked. Tiverton's citizens are particularly concerned with preservation, and the market is perched at the top of a rolling, undeveloped meadow ringed by tall trees - an absolutely idyllic setting for browsing the local produce.

I gave in to temptation and bought two jars of locally-made jam (Made from local produce, too!) from Cory's Kitchen at Sweet Berry Farm. My picks were peach-raspberry preserves and hot pepper jam - the former will appear, no doubt, on crumpets chez Queenie in the near future. The latter might end up stirred into salad dressings, spread on crackers, or, possibly, eaten with a spoon.

Our next stop (after a beautiful driving tour of Tiverton) was Coastal Roasters, widely known in the area as the best coffee for miles. Aunt Cathi, primarily a tea drinker, wanted some help picking out a dark, rich coffee for my Uncle Jack. This was a challenge to which I felt equal. The shop roasts most of its own beans, and the selection was fantastic. We ended up choosing a Sumatran blend with cocoa tones to it for Uncle Jack, and ordering a latte (for Cathi) and a café au lait (for me). The coffee was great - rich, round, and strong.

Finally, we stopped at the fish store to collect the crab and steamers. No pictures , sadly, but I can confirm that many times of mollusk were on offer, including the little necks they gave us by mistake (something we only discovered upon opening the bag to clean them just before dinner). Oops.

I have to say, I was seriously impressed with the availability of local, sustainable foods in this little corner of Rhode Island. Everywhere I turned, it seemed, someone was offering me fantastic coffee, delicious ice cream, succulent fish, or fresh fruit - all grown or made within the surrounding 50 miles or so.

Looking for links to all the places we visited, I even found an amazing site called Farm Fresh Rhode Island, a comprehensive guide to buying local and fresh across the (admittedly teeny) state. Pretty nifty, I have to say.

The lobster roll at the end (well, middle) of the bike path.

Last weekend, I went up to Bristol, Rhode Island to visit my Aunt Cathi at her new digs smack on the water. My family are a bunch of New Englanders at heart, and it's nice to finally have a member of the parental generation back in the neighborhood (especially when she's as good a cook as Cathi happens to be).

She and my uncle are splitting their time between a fantastic condo in Bristol and a home in Dallas; I haven't seen the latest Dallas place, but I can tell you that the Bristol residence is spectacular. Downtown Bristol (the most patriotic town in American, apparently) is adorable and eminently walkable, and Cathi's condo is part of a complex made entirely of salvaged industrial buildings. The view from the pool gives you an idea of what a gorgeous spot this is:

On Saturday morning, Cathi took me on a tour of her favorite local food shopping destinations (more on those later, I promise). That afternoon, we took a (very warm) bike ride down the East Bay bike path, through Colt State Park, and on to Warren for lunch at Blount's clam shack.

We split the nine-inch lobster roll, which came with a side of fries and coleslaw. The lobster itself was great - tender, flavorful (almost definitely cooked in seawater) and cut into manageably bite-sized pieces. The bun was similarly delicious. The traditional, side-cut New England hot dog bun was toasted all over and lined with a leaf of Bibb lettuce before receiving its precious cargo. The lobster was sparingly dressed with a mild mayo, which was the only thing I would have changed. I like a bit of tang in my lobster roll, and would have killed for a squeeze of lemon or a slightly kickier sauce.

Altogether, though, there's nothing bad about this kind of reward waiting for you at the end of a bike ride - am I right?