Living in Maine
Politics and play, summer treats, lobster rolls, oysters, and a recipe for skate
My little town on the western edge of Penobscot Bay has been racked with contention recently, although the matter was finally settled with an election in early June. Now, it seems, we have returned happily to our normal state of argumentative agreement, that is, neighbors agreeing to disagree on many matters. But the intensity of the controversy (at issue was the removal of an aging and unsightly dam at the head of the harbor falls) has left many of us shaken.
It began as a simple dispute—to dismantle the dam or to resuscitate it?—but it rapidly devolved into a knock-down battle between those who would retain the dam, with all the expense of upkeep now and in the future, and those who would take it down and allow our lovely Megunticook River to flow freely over the ledges down into Camden harbor. In the event, insults were hurled, public figures were personally attacked, accusations were flung, the sheriff was called in, and at one point, arguably the lowest of all, an overly zealous citizen threatened to report a Select Board member to DHS (the state’s Department of Health & Human Services) over a perceived menace to the safety of the Select person’s children.
All was resolved, however, in Tuesday’s free and fair vote which settled overwhelmingly on tearing down the dam, although some of the die-hards on the save-the-dam side were slow to accept defeat.
This is not politics as usual in my usually reasonable and fair-minded little town (pop. just over 5,000), and, trivial as the matter was, to me it’s a reflection of the intolerable situation the country is in right now, with increasing polarization between two sides that will never, it seems, agree. The resulting proliferation of misstatements, inexcusable lies, and outright distortions of truth, the threats, the bullying and menacing behavior, and the way intimidation has come to be seen as an acceptable substitute for reasoned argument—all of this is deeply troubling.
But then on Flag Day, the Saturday after the vote, like millions of people around the country, I joined friends at a jovial, light-hearted but serious-minded demonstration on the public landing in Rockland, our county seat, to wave our flags, display our posters, and protest all these wrongs, while listening to proposals for righting them. And of course, we bowed our heads for an agonizing moment of silence in respect for the Minnesota legislators who, we learned, had been shot dead that morning, targeted for their middle-of-the-road political positions. Further evidence, as if it were necessary, of the bleak, black depths to which the country has fallen.
Our vote that Tuesday in early June actually took the place of town meeting, which back in the day was a more civilized proceeding wherein opponents to whatever the dispute stood up and spoke publicly—and because it was public, more or less behaved themselves without resorting to the ad hominem viciousness that social media evokes. Town meeting was an all-day affair, with school letting out at noon so teachers and a few interested students could also attend. In the Opera House, I sat in the balcony overlooking the proceedings when my father was Moderator, as he often was. But town meeting has become a relic of the past. Once held in March, a slow time of the year when farmers, fishers, and downtown merchants could take some time off to deliberate, the meeting was moved years ago to June, to reflect the budget year (since we vote the town budget at the same time); as it turned out, around here that’s a terrible time for a meeting: the whole town is frantically gearing up for the looming summer season, when money will start to flow again into hotels, restaurants, and farmstands. And so, town meeting has slowly subsided from lack of attendance, becoming a shadow of what it once was, nothing more nowadays than a chance to cast a ballot. Too bad. Our damned dam controversy might have been resolved more easily in an open session where registered voters and townspeople could speak, discuss, and reach conclusions, however difficult and contentious it might be to do so.
Democracy, it turns out, is a day by day, sometimes an hour by hour, effort. But it’s worth every single thing we put into it—let’s keep it moving!
Coming to Maine This Summer? Looking for Something To Do?
(Part I, to be continued)
Lots of folks are scouting Maine as a destination for their summer holidays this year. We have plenty of space for you all, what with the absence of European and, especially, Canadian visitors, most of whom are understandably leery of confronting unpredictable restrictions and inconsistent treatment by border guards and the masked and heavily armed forces of ICE. Since much of Maine is within 100 miles of the border (which includes the long coastline), ICE is free to operate pretty much throughout the state. If you’re worried at all, you might be better off in Kansas.
But if you do come to Maine, here are a few ideas that are somewhat off the well-beaten track:
Down the Peninsula
Driving the coast, the usual route, you’re stop-and-start cruising along heavily trafficked Route One, which takes you through towns like Wiscasset, Thomaston, and Camden, then across the Penobscot River and down east to Ellsworth, Machias, and Eastport on the New Brunswick border. But don’t ignore the side roads leading off the main highway, slowly winding lanes that head down the peninsulas to places that those of us who live here think of as “the real Maine”—intimate villages, small harbors, spruce-clad ledges, lighthouses, and island-dotted, sail-speckled seascapes that are embraced in places like Pemaquid, Friendship, and St. George, and then, beyond the Penobscot, beyond Mt. Desert, hidden sites like Sedgwick, Corea, Buck’s Harbor, and more.
At the end of any one of these roads, you may find a lobster shack serving up lobster rolls and fried clams, two of Maine’s three iconic foods (the third is wild blueberries); or a gallery featuring local and internationally known artists, potters, quilters, and/or photographers; or an award-winning restaurant with a dazzling menu; or a shed run by earnest teenagers who will lecture you on oyster aquaculture while they dip their own hand-made ice cream. Or maybe you’ll just find a spectacular view of blueberry fields, salt meadows, evergreen forests, and always that briny air off the deep-blue North Atlantic.
Down at the end of the peninsula, you might also find a ferry to an outer island—Monhegan from Port Clyde, or Isle au Haut from Stonington, just for instance. Lacking a historic Concordia yawl at your disposal, this is a fine way to cruise the coast of Maine. Leave the driving to the ferryman and just relax and enjoy the view. Out and back can be a couple of hours or an all-day trip, it’s up to you. Find out more, schedules, fares, timing, here.
Lobster Rolls? Authenticity? Fried Clams, You Said?
Of course, it goes without saying but I’ll say it anyway, if you’re on the coast of Maine, anywhere, anytime, you are seeking lobsters, clams, oysters, crab, and fish-fish-fish. And if you’re a reader of On the Kitchen Porch, which you are, you are looking for the finest kind, whatever it may be.
NB: For old-fashioned Maine lobstermen, the critters are often called “bugs.” I have met many a fishing family that will not touch the beasties. Which is fine with me—all the more for the rest of us!
Lobster Rolls?
The lobster roll, truly a Maine icon, has become a national phenomenon lately, with imitators as far afield as San Francisco, Portland (that one, in Oregon), and even Las Vegas where Maine-based Luke’s Lobster has an outpost. But the real, the authentic, the genuine, certified thing requires a Maine view, preferably with lighthouse or at least some ocean water, to be fully enjoyed. Here are a few favorite views from my ongoing explorations:
McLoon’s, on Spruce Head Island (accessible by car), down at the end of the St. George peninsula: a dazzling view of Mussel Ridge across the channel, and a menu beyond lobster rolls that includes grill-roasted clams and whole lobsters, plus house-made old-fashioned pies and other desserts.
Bagaduce Lunch, in the town of Penobscot on the Blue Hill peninsula: outside tables on a sweeping lawn look over the Bagaduce River, surging dramatically back and forth with the tides; fried clams are as good as their lobster rolls but they’re also famous for soft-serve ice cream, if that’s your pleasure.
Claws in Rockland, right on North Main Street (Route One): lobster in many guises, including a giant-sized lobster roll, plus a view of Rockland’s busy, quasi-industrial harbor, with ferries, workboats, sailboats, fishing boats, and a distant view of the lighthouse at the end of Rockland’s Breakwater.
Greet’s Eats, Vinalhaven Island (take the ferry from Rockland): great lobster rolls but also pretty good burgers and the onion rings are highly praised. For a full-on Penobscot Bay excursion, hop on the 10:30 ferry from Rockland, arriving at Carver’s Harbor around noon, walk a very short distance to this island food truck, settle down for a lobster roll or more with a splendid view of Vinalhaven harbor,
one of the largest lobster fishing harbors on the whole Maine coast; maybe walk into town to do a little shopping or sight-seeing, before catching the 4:30 boat back to Rockland, home in time for supper! But do call before going out, just to be sure they’re open: (207) 863-2057.
If it’s a full-on lobster dinner you crave, Young’s in Belfast sports a cavernous, dockside shed filled with teeming, bubbling tanks of live lobsters. Take your pick and have your choice boiled right in front of you, then move outside to a table on the broad deck, add a plate of steamed clams to shuck and dip, first in clam broth and then in melted butter, and enjoy the salty breezes and an expansive view of Belfast across the harbor. Bring your own wine.
Or head down the peninsula from Damariscotta or Waldoboro to Round Pond where the Round Pond Lobster Fishermen’s Co-op serves nothing but bright red lobsters, fresh out of the water, with a sack of steamed clams, a puddle of melted butter (not margarine, real butter), an ear of corn in season, and a bag of Maine-made potato chips: This is truly lobster-in-the-rough, order at the counter, take it to an outside table, sit down and enjoy the view, as lobster boats come and go. The man in charge, Buddy Poland, is not exactly gregarious but you might prompt him into a tale or two. Apart from being married to an internet star, he is a genuine, authentic, certified, third-generation Maine lobsterman.
Eat More Fish: Recipe of the Week (Skating Through Dinner)
Raie au beurre noir (Skate with black butter sauce)
Summertime always seems an ideal time to add more fish to the table. Why is that? I think partly because seafood in general is lighter than meat—it may be lower in calories, lower in fat, but what I mean by lighter is an indefinable but notable sensation after a fish meal that you don’t feel burdened the way you do (or at least I do) after a steak, a burger, or a porchetta sandwich.
So let’s eat more fish because it’s summertime and the fishing is easy. My friend Henry caught a pike in Megunticook Lake yesterday—it was a good-sized pike but, conscientious fisherman that 13-year-old Henry is, he extracted the hook and let the fish glide back into the lake waters.
Skate was what I found at my favorite fish purveyor, Jess’s Market in Rockland’s south end. At just $9.99 a pound, locally caught, all dressed and ready to cook, it was a tremendous bargain. It wasn’t easy to find a recipe, even in old-fashioned New England cookbooks but, cruising through my kitchen bookshelves, I came across a long-time favorite Cooking Fish & Shellfish by Ruth A. Spear. Published back in 1980, almost half a century ago, this is a terrifically useful book, full of information about various species and with plenty of recipes even for the most obscure—like skate. I was pleased to see that the book is still available online. Spear’s recipe for skate was preceded by this advice: Because skate is one of the few fish that are actually better when not absolutely fresh, “when it is held for two or three days in the refrigerator, the texture improves and the flesh becomes less tough.”
The recipe is below the paywall for paid subscribers only.
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