The Wall of Fame

Years ago, when I worked at The Greenbrier, there were photographs of the politicians, dignitaries, and celebrities who visited the hotel throughout the years. I wish that I had started my own wall of fame back in 2009. We may not have sitting presidents here at the Inn, but we've had some excitement of our own. Bill Fichtner is the first one who comes to mind, mostly because I can now call him a friend. Madeleine Albright is a hero of mine, and it was an honor to meet her. Adam Driver set some hearts aflutter around Brunswick when he was here a couple of years ago, and for me it was a bit of a miss--I didn't know at the time what a rising star he was. Mira Nair has graced our steps a few times, as has Richard Tuttle, Liang Wang, Dana Cowin and Bela Fleck.

This past Sunday, however, was really special for me personally. Sam Hayward was here at the Inn cooking for a small group, and I got to hang around the kitchen while he worked. I admit to being a little starstruck, but I was immediately put at ease. What a lovely guy. Humble, easy to talk to, low-key. Sam has done wonders for the food scene in Maine over the course of the last 40 years, working to support Maine farmers and producers as exclusively as he can. Winner of the James Beard Award for Best Chef in the Northeast in 2004, Sam may not be a household word in too many circles outside Maine, but to me, he's wall-of-fame worthy.

The Winter of our Discontent

I know there are reasons to be cranky about all this snow. It's heavy and expensive and dangerous to drive in and it's dangerous to be up on your roof trying to shovel it off and it's bone-cracking cold and the furnace is cranking and the kids are home from school which means they'll be in school during vacation(s) and it just keeps coming and coming and coming.

And I say I love it. I am lucky because I have a warm home and a cozy place that is safe from the elements. For these things I am humbly grateful. When I get in a hot shower each morning, I think of what a luxury it is. I do not take my warmth for granted.

But I have always loved snow, and I love it this winter, too. There is a feeling during a tough New England winter that is paradoxical, and it is appealing to me on both sides of the paradox. On the one hand, there is a fight for survival, warmth, and safety that brings people together and creates a wonderful feeling of communal energy and purpose. On the other hand, there is a wonderfully quiet "coming inside-ness" that I love even more. I sometimes get tired of always having to be on the go, and a blizzard is about the only thing that provides a reason to just do nothing. Nobody I know does nothing without feeling guilty. We should be checking our email and finishing that project and cleaning up and working out and running errands and organizing our lives and balancing our books and walking our dog. I even feel guilty if I don't keep going while I'm sick. "I should just take some medicine and get on with it."

But I don't feel guilty if I do pretty much nothing during a blizzard. I feel completely justified reading, napping, doing crosswords or playing backgammon with my son. I paint my daughter's nails. I snuggle with Augie the doggie. I stoke the fire, then I take another nap. I feel like I'm insulated from the world, and sometimes that's just a good way to feel.

So I know I'm in the minority, but I say "bring it on, Mother Nature."  Most days I work really hard, and I could use at least one more snow day and another cup of tea.

What's In a Name?

It is with a heavy heart that I send Plain Jane to her trademark grave. Nuts About Granola, a company in Pennsylvania, has a Plain Jane variety, and I for one have had enough trademark issues to last ten lifetimes. Can anyone say "Inn at Brunswick Station"?

And so, I have become a crazy woman. I think of nothing else but potential new names. I mutter and talk to myself. I am distracted. I am preoccupied. I asked everyone I talked to until my cousin suggested Bearded Dragon Granola. Now I don't ask anymore. I simply lie awake at night, playing with rhymes and alliteration and have even started in on foreign languages. Petite Helene Granola?  And speaking of Helen, I didn't spend this much time choosing names for my children.

I am an inch away from being licensed to wholesale. My nutritional label is done. And, most importantly, more and more people want more and more Plain Jane every day. They need it to go, they need 10 bags, they need it wrapped and they need it shipped. My movie star friend Bill Fichtner is eating his in Prague. We are growing and yet we are having a major identity crisis. How do you settle on a name when the importance of it can't be overstated? How can we find a name that's catchy and memorable, that taps into the idea that this granola is The Way Granola Should Be, kind of like Maine is "The Way Life Should Be"?  Anyone who answers satisfactorily wins a lifetime supply of this delicious stuff. Until then, I will pace and mutter and lie awake, and then, if this works like so much of the other stuff in my life, it will hit me like a ton of bricks when I least expect it, and I will wonder why I didn't see it sooner. What a relief it will be.

                                                                                                     

Ina Here We Come!

In 1999, in what seems like another life, I enrolled at The French Culinary Institute in New York City. To help me prepare, I bought the professors' cookbooks: Alain Sailhac, Andre Soltner, and Jacques Torres had all published best-selling books, and it seemed like a great idea for me to learn their secrets and techniques. I was excited, intimidated, and busy practicing when my then-boyfriend proposed. Would I move to West Virginia with him?  

What about hanging out with the best of the best in the culinary world? What about that?? Well, I will always have to wonder, because off I went to West Virginia, and my husband and I are still happily married with two beautiful children and a puppy. No regrets, although I think Jim might regret not having a wife who is professionally trained in French cuisine.  

Now I am older, wiser, and firmly grounded in the belief that since I have Ina Garten, I don't need Jaques Torres and company. My sister's mother-in-law, whom I have known almost my whole life, gave me my first Barefoot Contessa cookbook, and I will forever be grateful to her. Ina Garten shaped the way I cook more than any other single force. From her, I learned that a wonderful dish does not need to be complicated; it just needs to be prepared with the freshest ingredients and a firm understanding of basic culinary techniques.  

Tomorrow, I am off to see Ina in person. She will speak at Boston's Symphony Hall, and if I can wrestle my way to the front of the line, I will get my picture taken with her. I'd like to hang it in the front hall of the Inn, where I have put into practice everything she has taught me. About a year ago, I overheard someone in the front parlors say, "I can't wait for dinner. I hear the food here is amazing."  It was one of my proudest moments. Thanks, Ina.

Augie

The Summer of Augie is coming to a close. Our now-5-month-old puppy defined the summer of 2014 for my whole family, and we have loved (almost) every second of it. Everything we did and didn't do was determined in large part by where Augie would be while we were or weren't doing it. So, no long, luxurious days at Popham Beach; Augie couldn't stay home alone for that long. No long weekend at The Claremont Hotel; they don't allow dogs. No sleeping in; Augie needs to go out.

But Augie makes us smile, and he makes everyone else smile, too. We love that even the most dour-looking, passerby softens and smiles with Augie's wag.  Now he is becoming a fixture on the quad at Bowdoin, where I take him on early afternoon walks to keep him from wondering where Helen and Charlie have gone. My 9- and 11-year-olds have gone back to school, and Augie is feeling a bit blue. The oohing and ahhing of the Bowdoin students has made him feel a little better.

As we transition into the start of yet another new school year, which resonates particularly strongly for those of us who live and work in a college town, Augie is a good reminder of how to approach life: be full of joy when you wake up in the morning--it's another day!  

And it's another day and another season at The Brunswick Inn. We are happily getting to know the Bowdoin freshman class and their families; our event business, both on- and off-site, continues to grow; our Plain Jane Granola, which has been such a successful part of the Inn for more than 5 years, will hopefully be coming to a market near you in the next couple of years; and The Brunswick Inn Provisions, a spark of an idea, is coming into clearer focus.  We will keep you posted!

In the meantime, I'm trying to smile and wag when I get up each morning.

Primo!

There's a lovely St. Louis couple who stay at the Inn frequently--their daughter is a student at Bowdoin.  Almost every time they come, they make the journey north on Route 1 to Rockland to dine at Primo.  I would be amazed by this dedication if I were not a restaurant junkie. After all, it's almost two hours each way.  Instead of being amazed, I've always just been jealous.

Well tonight it's my turn!  To celebrate our 14th wedding anniversary, my husband and I are headed north ourselves.  It will be our first Primo experience.  Chef Melissa Kelley is the 2013 James Beard Foundation Award winner of the American Express Best Chef: Northeast Award. She also received this award in 1999, making her the first 2-time winner of the same award. Her farm-to-table dining is recognized nationally, and I am somewhat ashamed that I have lived in Maine since 2003 and have never gone.  One more piece of evidence to show how tough it is to get to all the jewels that Maine has to offer!

Live Well

When you live in Maine, you live well.  Life here is solid and simple, and the pace is slower than most places.  Sometimes there are moments when I feel this sense of wellness very palpably, and the most recent moment happened at Live Well Farm.  For Grey's Anatomy fans, this is significant: Patrick Dempsey's mother owned Live Well Farm not long ago.

The new owners have transformed the property, which is just a quarter of a mile from our home in Harpswell, into an event venue with sleeping accommodations for about a dozen people. Both the barn and the house can seat many for a meal and celebration.  My favorite feature in the barn is a piece of driftwood lovingly reclaimed from Popham Beach and transformed into a twinkly chandelier.

 

My kids, my new puppy, and I went to the farm for the Harpswell Fire and Rescue Full Moon Barn Dance a few weeks ago, and that live well feeling was palpable.  The evening air was clear and cool as dogs and puppies leapt joyfully and got into a fair amount of mischief concerning potato chips and hot dogs; fiddles played as the moon rose; friends and neighbors sipped icy beer and plastic cups of red wine and caught up on the local gossip; kids ran through fields and tried their hands at badminton.

 

Patty and Scott Ruppert have done an amazing job with Live Well Farm, and we wish them well as they grow their new business.

 

Going Upbeat

Five years ago, The Brunswick Inn began a wonderful relationship with the Bowdoin International Music Festival.  We are now the official Inn of the festival, so many of our summer guests are either faculty or the parents of festival students.  We love welcoming them: they fill the house with music!

Linda Chesis

This year we are pleased to host flutist Linda Chesis as a guest at the Inn once again.  Linda is the founder and artistic director of the Cooperstown Summer Music Festival and is on the faculty of the Manhattan School of Music.  She will be an artist-in-residence for weeks one and four of the festival, and we look forward with great anticipation to her performance of Debussy's Sonata for Flute, Viola, and Harp this Wednesday evening.

The Inn is the sponsor of this year's Wednesday Upbeat! performance series, and we are excited to be trying something new after four great years of sponsoring the Monday Night Sonata series.  Join us after the performance each week for an opportunity to meet the artists and other members of the festival community while enjoying complimentary hors d'oeuvres and a cash bar.  We're going Upbeat!

Congratulations Alane!

This past Saturday night I had the pleasure of catering Alane Callahan's wedding to Ken Crowe.  Alane has worked at the Inn for 3 years and has taken over the event planning for that ever-expanding part of the business.  She has mastered the art of discovering just what a guest envisions for a party and creates the perfect plan to help realize that vision.  She did an amazing job for her own wedding--the decor at the Mere Point Yacht Club was spectacular, and the feel of the entire event was intimate and easy-going with special surprise details at every turn.  I loved the ball jars labelled with the names of all the children lined up with red-striped straws for sipping lemonade.  I loved the twinkling white lights that lined the rustic beams of the ceiling.  I loved the food she chose: tapas in honor of Ken's Guatamalan heritage.  Guests feasted on fire-roasted salsa and fresh guacamole; skirt steak and roasted potatoes with aioli; skewers of prosciutto-wrapped melon, black olives, manchego, grape tomatoes, and chili-lime chicken bites; and paella. I loved the skiff filled with ice-cold beer.  I loved that they splurged on a can't-sit-still 8-piece dance band.  And after my work was done, I really loved the mojito, muddled to order with real lime and fresh mint.  Best wishes, Alane and Ken.  May your life together be as beautiful as the moon that rose over your reception.

Unsung Heroes

Teacher of the Year Sarah Borofsky

          with her husband Jacob at the Inn

In two days, my husband will retire after 40 years of teaching and administrating in independent high schools. We will celebrate with family and friends at the Inn, not only to acknowledge his transition into what I hope will be a well-deserved rest but also to acknowledge his incredible dedication to a profession that was neither lucrative nor glamorous.  He taught because he loves to teach; he taught because he loves high school kids.  "They're funny," he would often say.  "And they're honest."  No small things.

In the May 11th issue of The New York Times, Steve Almond wrote a wonderful piece about what we worship and honor today.  "Americans worship athletes and moguls and movie stars, those who possess the glittering gifts we equate with worth and happiness. . . . We might be willing to watch a drama about a meek high-school science teacher, but only if he degenerates into a homicidal meth tycoon."  Funny not only because the concept of Breaking Bad was absurd, but funny, too, because of what it says about American values. 

So because they do not get the credit they deserve, I tried to find a way to say thank you to the teachers out there who tirelessly take our youth into their hands and try to help them find their passions and their strengths and who thereby have our future in their hands as well.  Congratulations, Sarah Brokofsky, Cumberland County Teacher of the Year.  Sarah and her husband will enjoy a weekend at the Inn as our guests.  If we had a red carpet, we'd roll it out for her.

Transition

So here we are, full speed ahead into the school year.  It's dark now by 7:30, the mornings have been chilly, and the traffic has all but disappeared to make room for the school buses.  We have said goodbye to the summer tourists, the Maine State Music Theater  fans, and the Bowdoin International Music Festival musicians. 

In their place we welcome back our Bowdoin College families, many of whom we know well after so many visits.  In fact, we welcomed former Bowdoin parents just last week: their son graduated last year but they still love to come, and we were so happy to see them.  We grabbed a great meal at The Dolphin out in Harpswell and I was genuinely surprised that they had never been there.  It reminds me that it takes years to discover the many wonderful spots in this part of Maine.



The Dolphin Restaurant

There is excitement in the air as a new school year begins, with all the hope that is wrapped up in a fresh start.  We look forward to all the new Bowdoin families that will come through, the professors and performers we will get to meet, the victories and defeats we will watch on the playing fields.  The vibrancy of a college town makes the transition from summer to fall a bit easier, I have discovered.  I will miss those long, easy summer days but love the thought of another Brunswick fall.  Before you come, be sure to check the Bowdoin calendar for lectures, performances and games!

Surprise!

I can always tell, even from the kitchen, what the energy of a party is like, and this past Friday night was one of the best parties I can remember here at the Inn.  We had 100 guests who all managed to keep the party a secret so that the guest of honor could enjoy what looked like the shock of a lifetime on the occasion of her 70th birthday.  Everyone enjoyed a beautiful spiral ham; orzo with roasted vegetables from the  Brunswick Farmers Market; smoked salmon; a cheese board with some lovely new additions from Treats, a favorite store of mine in Wiscasset; scallops wrapped in our applewood smoked bacon; pate, spanikopita, fresh fruit, and more.  But it can't be just about the food, so Happy Birthday, Rachael! It was wonderful to feel the energy of people who were clearly so happy to be celebrating your life.  (A special thank you, too, to courtney elizabeth for the fabulous photos!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Random Acts of Kindness

When I was a teacher at Loyola School in Manhattan years ago, one of my students lost her college-age brother in a car accident.  I am not a Facebook devotee, but occasionally I take a peek and see her posts, which often refer to her random acts of kindness.  There are so many people who would have become jaded after such a terrible loss, but instead this young woman does random acts of kindness like clockwork.  She pays for the next customer's coffee, leaves a few dollars hidden behind an item in the Dollar Store, or sends someone a package "just because."

Stuff like this is great to read about, but it packs a punch when it happens to you.  I have recently been the recipient of a random act of kindness/paying it forward combo.  Someone who appreciates the Inn and what we do is helping me with a project, and I wouldn't be able to do it without him.  It feels amazing when people are kind and generous and thoughtful and selfless.  So much of what happens around us can seem so automated and techie and fast, like we're all less human than we are meant to be.  I am glad to know that today I am wrong about that, and the Inn will be that much nicer for it.

Morse's Cribstone Grill

I love discovering restaurants, and I'm not sure how I missed Morse's Cribstone Grill on Bailey Island for so long.  I went for the first time at the beginning of the summer, and it has become a favorite.  The view is unbeatable and it has just the right feeling after a day on the boat or at the beach.  A cold beer or a crisp glass of white tastes much better on the deck at the Grill, and even if you have to wait for a table, it's fun at the bar and the food is worth it.  Try the lobster dip, the broiled scallops, and the sweet potato fries.  Haven't tried the lobster BLT, but it got a mention in a New York Times story, so I would say it's a pretty safe bet.  This (poor iphone) picture is from the front of the restaurant and not what you see from inside, but I thought the sunset was pretty from the parking lot!

Transients

It is sometimes strange to have a job that surrounds you with transients.  For so long at the beginning of my tenure at The Brunswick Inn, I fulfilled my need for socializing with either the people who worked for me or the people who passed through.  My guests are, for the most part, lovely, interesting, and accomplished, and I thoroughly enjoy the company of my employees.  But I still needed friends.

After the first couple of years of the Innsanity of owning my own business, I started to get out and about and actually engage with the people I encountered at my kids' soccer games, the school parking lot, the farmers' market, etc.  It's not easy making new friends when you're 45, but I was lucky.  Now my closest friend in Brunswick has become a transient herself and is moving this week.  A group of women met for drinks at the Inn tonight to toast her, and as I drove home afterwards I was overcome with sadness.  I feel a little bit like a little kid whose friend is moving out of the neighborhood, and if I had a curb I think I would sit on it and sulk with my chin in my fist.

Good think I have 16 bedrooms so that she and her family can always come and visit. 

T.S. Eliot

T.S. Eliot thought that April was the cruelest month.  I think he's wrong there, and I happen to think it's March.  Winter in Maine is beautiful: cold and crisp outside, cozy inside.  Then comes March, when you think winter is supposed to be coming to a close and instead you get dirty, ugly snow banks, mud that's as invasive as sand on a beach, and the thought that everyone else is starting to glimpse the color and the life of spring.

But no need to worry about that now.  Instead, I am thinking about the merits of September even though I am thoroughly enjoying my August.  I think September is probably the most beautiful month in Maine.  There is a quality to the light that brings me to a halt at moments, and the air just seems to smell sweeter.  It still feels like summer weather-wise, but the heavy tourist traffic is gone. The water is even swimmable!

  

If you've never spent time in Maine in September, you don't know what you're missing.  And this year for the first time, you can even enjoy the Taste of Brunswick in September.  It's an extravaganza of food and drink right outside our front door!  Then hit the beaches, hop on your bike, rent a kayak, or go for a whale watch.  In other words, pretend that summer won't be over soon!

Happy Anniversary

Today is my 13th wedding anniversary.  Thirteen years ago my husband and I lived in West Virginia, where I spent a couple of years learning the ins and outs of the hotel business at The Greenbrier.  It was a fascinating place to be, with 1,200 employees and more than 500 rooms.  I can still remember the hushed mornings when I would arrive at work and feel the calm before the storm.  The excitement was palpable for me as I pictured the hundreds of people around me in the privacy of their rooms while housekeepers quietly polished hand rails, front desk workers prepared for checkouts, doormen stood at attention. 

And then they would start to emerge along the thick carpeting: the golfers headed out for their tee times, the beautiful women in their tennis whites, the shoppers strolling the among the luxury of the stores, children scurrying off to the pool, a couple enjoying a private conversation over morning coffee.  The feeling I get in a hotel gets my adrenaline going, and I confess that I am addicted to it.

And now I have a small hotel of my own, which I love.  It makes me happy just to turn the corner into the Great Room, with its enormous fireplace and a hush all its own.  I love the smells--coffee, lilies, bacon, a wood fire, fresh linens.  I'm not sure what this says about me (besides the fact that I have found one of my callings), but there you have it.

Musical Inspiration

As a one-time New Yorker, my NYC friends will sometimes ask how I can survive up here in Maine. I think they're talking about the endless assortment of activity and the intensity that prevails.  I don't miss the intensity of the city; owning an inn is intense enough.  And as for the assortment of activity, I don't feel at a loss.  The Brunswick area has so much to offer, not the least of which is the Bowdoin International Music Festival.  I may have grown up going to Lincoln Center with my mother, but now I like the fact that the best musicians in the world come to us here!  We are lucky enough to have quite a number of them stay with us each summer, and we often hear them practicing.  Talk about the advantages of being on the inside!  Liang Wang, principal oboist of the New York Philharmonic, even gave my children a little private concert at the Inn four years ago.  I think we're surviving up here in Maine just fine.

Popham

One of my first memories involves a station wagon full of kids and a cooler full of egg salad sandwiches headed to Jones Beach on Long Island at the crack of dawn.  I still can't eat egg salad without thinking of those days when inevitably the sandwiches would end up flavored with the crunch of Atlantic Ocean sand.

I loved Jones Beach, and there are few places on the East coast as beautiful as the beaches of Long Island.  When I first moved to Maine, I was told that people don't come for the beaches.  "They come to sail," I was told.  That may or may not be true, but I would bet that the person who said that had never been to Popham Beach.

Popham is gorgeous.  It is unusual for Maine in that it is a wide swath of fine white sand.  It has never looked the same twice, since the Kennebec and Morse rivers and the winter storms make their marks and take their tolls. This often creates warm tidal pools for those who find the temps of our waters, well, brisk.  

When visiting Brunswick, don't miss Popham.  It will take 25-30 minutes to get there from the Inn, but it's so worth it.  If you give me a little advance warning, I'll even send you with a cooler of egg salad sandwiches.