Tuesday Travels: Lament for Scrumptious Turtles

My husband, Dan, and I will soon be embarking on our seasonal move from New Orleans to northern Michigan, and while we're both eager to dwell again amid the tall trees, clean air, and peaceful waters of our home near Big Bear Lake, there are many aspects of the Big Easy we'll be missing during the summer – namely, the music, the architecture, and, of course, the food. In particular, I'll surely find myself longing for raw oysters, boiled crabs and crawfish, shrimp po-boys, muffulettas, fried green tomatoes, oyster artichoke soup, and, yes, turtles – not the animated kind, mind you, but the dessert cookies that consist of shortbread, dark chocolate, and pecans, and can be found in most local grocery stores.

Just consider the photo below – wouldn't you miss them, too?

Monday Munchies: I Got the Garden Blues

For the past several summers, my husband, Dan, and I have called the shores of Big Bear Lake in northern Michigan home. Although we both love it up here, we especially look forward to having our own garden – something that's not easy to come by in our French Quarter apartment (where we spend much of the rest of the year). I even wrote about our seasonal efforts in July of 2009, when I first started this blog.

Sadly, though, because of a combination of factors – namely, our later-than-usual arrival and our preoccupation with various tasks, such as my struggle to update the Moon New Orleans guide and preparations for our first-ever Traverse City Shorts Festival – we weren't able to start a garden this summer, and believe me, we're both missing the usual sight of our ever-growing tomatoes, zucchini, eggplant, and other produce. We're especially bummed that there are no mint leaves this year – as each of us does dearly love a refreshing mojito from time to time. But, alas, life intervened, and it just wasn't meant to be.

Of course, there's always next year. In the meantime, though, I'll have to live vicariously through my online pals. So, what's growing in your gardens this year?

Monday Munchies: Wild Michigan Blueberries

Though I'm still plugging away at my update of Moon New Orleans – yes, it's true, I'm still not done – I'm trying hard to enjoy my summer stay in northern Michigan and take advantage of the state's berry-licious bounty. Right now, it's wild blueberry season, and due to favorable weather conditions, it already looks to be a, forgive the pun, fruitful season. Just today, I managed to gather quite a few of the yummy little devils. Now, the only question is... what to do with them? Bake some blueberry muffins, make some blueberry jam, opt for some blueberry pancakes, or simply add them to my oatmeal? Decisions, decisions, decisions.

Tuesday Travels: Happy Summer Solstice!

Here in America – and the rest of the northern hemisphere – today is the summer solstice: the longest day of the year, the official beginning of summer, and a great time to plan a summer vacation. If you're looking for a coastal getaway, you should consider the northwestern part of Michigan's Lower Peninsula, an area rife with beaches, dunes, lighthouses, wineries, golf courses, and resort towns. Besides featuring this region – which happens to be one of my favorite parts of the Great Lakes State, where my husband and I spend our summers – on my American Nomad blog, I've also covered it for My Itchy Travel Feet as well as National Geographic Traveler. So, read all about it, enter the Moon Michigan giveaway at My Itchy Travel Feet, and pack your bags for this incredibly stunning and diverse place.

Tuesday Travels: Touring Michigan's S.S. Keewatin

Over the weekend, I recounted a recent tour of the historic S.S. Keewatin in Douglas, Michigan, on my American Nomad blog. If you're curious, you can read all about it there, but in the meantime, here are some of the photos that I couldn't post on my other blog.

the main lobby for boarding passengers












the purser's office, located in the lobby












a porthole amid the sleeping quarters











the bridal suite













the preserved wheelhouse













smokestacks and lifeboats on the upper deck
















amusing potty doors at the adjacent bar on the dock











four friends having lunch beside Kalamazoo Lake









And, of course, if you ever have a chance to see the Keewatin for yourself, I highly recommend taking the Grand Tour, as Dan, Warren, Missy, and I did!

Monday Munchies: Our Beloved Mojitos

Given that I've previously shared my passion for alcoholic treats, key lime pie, and fresh mint, it probably comes as no surprise that Dan and I are particularly fond of mojitos: refreshing, Cuban-style cocktails that blend rum, sugar, lime, mint, soda water, and ice. Unfortunately, my round-the-clock work schedule makes it rather impossible for me to enjoy mojitos, often the inevitable cause of sleepiness, on a regular basis – which is why this weekend was so wonderful. Both in dire need of a mini-vacation, Dan and I headed south to Saugatuck, Michigan, a lovely resort community along the eastern shore of Lake Michigan. For three days and three nights, we spent plenty of work-free time with another couple, relishing the chance to relax, visit area art galleries, and, yes, savor a variety of regional wines, yummy beers, and other libations, including our beloved mojitos, which Dan prepares better than anyone else I know.

So, what's your favorite refreshment, with or without alcohol?

Tuesday Travels: Snow in April?!

Normally, Dan and I wouldn't be in northern Michigan at this time of year. During the month of April, we're usually in the Big Easy, roaming through the French Quarter, noshing on raw oysters and muffulettas and shrimp po-boys, and listening to live music at annual events like the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival. But, alas, we decided, for a variety of reasons, to head up north a little earlier than usual. And, wouldn't you know that, while the weather is perfect in New Orleans, it's a bit chilly in northern Michigan, so chilly in fact that it actually snowed this past weekend?!

I woke up on Saturday morning to the sight of snow on the rooftops...







...and snow on the steps...











...and snow on the ever-present Christmas tree in the yard! While I was tickled to death, running around the yard, taking photographs, Dan was inside, fuming. As he said, instead of snowflakes falling to the ground, he wished “they were little bits of 80-degree sunshine.” Well, honey, it'll be summer soon enough. In the meantime, I aim to enjoy the cool weather while it lasts.

Tuesday Travels: Back in Michigan... At Last!

I know I've been absent from the blogosphere in, well, forever, but I just have to say... I'm so eager to be back in northern Michigan again. True, I'm still hard at work, trying to wrap up my Moon Florida Keys guide and wondering what a good night's sleep used to feel like, but it's still awesome to be on Big Bear Lake again, surrounded by trees and enjoying the relative solitude.

While I admit that the trees look even better during the autumn months, I'll take what I can get, scraggly, post-winter trees and all.

Whimsical Wednesday: Conchs, Fudgies, and Other American Jargon

Though my life is currently revolving around Moon Florida Keys, I still have other responsibilities – such as my travel blog at Moon.com. So, while working on a glossary of regional terms for the travel guide, I was suddenly inspired to post a four-part series about the unique regional dialect (and features) of four of my favorite U.S. locales: the Florida Keys, the Everglades, New Orleans, and Michigan.

So, if you ever wanted to know (but were afraid to ask) what a no-see-um is, here's your chance!

And, of course, feel free to share the odd words and expressions unique to your neck of the woods. I'd like to be better prepared for a future visit!

Thoughtful Thursday: A Photographic Ode to Autumn

This evening, I went for a wonderful walk in the woods, near my home in northern Michigan. Despite the lack of sunshine and the threat of rain, I ventured onto one of my favorite trails. It’s a shady path, lined with tall pine trees, that divides at a crossroads into three distinct routes, which meet again at the top of the middle one, creating a lopsided loop, cleaved in two. I’d left my weights at home and taken my camera instead. Borrowing an idea from my friend Becky, I wanted to capture the fall colors before they faded into memory.

As I hiked the middle route of my favorite trail system and looped back to the crossroads, I couldn’t help but notice mankind’s influence: deep truck ruts, chopped logs, “No Hunting” signs here and there. But, even with such reminders of civilization as well as the cool raindrops that fell on my silly hatless head, I savored the kaleidoscopic forest that enveloped me. Leaves of nearly every hue – crimson, orange, yellow-green, brown, and purple – were everywhere. Even my beloved blueberry patch, always eerily lit by sunshine even on an overcast day, was surrounded by trees that resembled the fluorescent Play-Doh from my childhood.

During this damp but rewarding walk, I realized that Becky was right: Northern Michigan is “the most incredibly beautiful place.” Of course, I also thought about my lifelong fascination with autumn, which has in fact been my favorite season for as long as I can remember – and truly a delight for the senses. The sight of vibrant colors, the smell of burning leaves, the taste of hot apple cider, the feel of a cool crisp breeze, and the sound of revelry in the French Quarter.

Because, yes, I attribute my love for the fall, in part, to the holidays in October and November – namely, Halloween and the Day of the Dead, holidays that celebrate those who have passed between life and death. What an appropriate time for such a celebration – after all, isn’t that what all those vibrant leaves represent? A time of transition, between the vitality of summer and the dormancy of winter? As I returned home and gazed at the nearby cove, I thought that death had never seemed more beautiful...

Whimsical Wednesday: My Favorite Spot

On Wednesday, I typically focus on something unusual – a hobby or an interest or something even quirkier – but I’m feeling a little meditative today, and my brain is focused on one of my more pervasive interests... the desire to live an uncommon life – if not rich in tangible wealth, then at least rich in experience. Luckily, my husband feels the same way – we even giggled at our wedding, when we each had to speak the phrase “for richer, for poorer.” Apparently, we knew then – nearly nine years ago – that we were each destined for the spare, if fulfilling, path of a wanderer.

So, for four years now, Dan and I have lived a strange, nomadic existence, spending winter in Los Angeles, spring and fall in New Orleans, and summer in northern Michigan. We make our modest living through a combination of ways – most notably from our film festivals and my travel writing. At first, our parents were less than pleased with the direction our lives had taken – but we see them more often now than we ever did before, so they’ve learned to accept it. Besides, they finally seem to “get” our wandering natures, which have led us full circle from our yearlong RV journey across America to settling down in California for a while to hitting the road again. Frankly, I think we’ve worn them down.

As you’ve probably figured out, we conveniently skip the worst climates: summertime heat in New Orleans and wintertime snow dumps in Michigan. Beyond that, however, we do this to avoid boredom. After all, the scenery continually changes – and so do the neighbors. Of course, some things remain constant – like our family of three (me, Dan, and Ruby the kitty), our mutual passion for life, and our support of one another.

Still, moving around so often definitely has its drawbacks. The packing, for one. The unpacking, for another. Leaving one set of friends and/or relatives for another set of loved ones. And yet, as exhausting as this nomadic existence can be at times (and as frustrating as it is to forget what’s been stored in which storage unit), we’re grateful for the uncertainty that it brings – we never know what we’ll encounter along the way, and there’s a comfort in that. Besides, we tried living in one place for several years, and it just didn’t stick. I don’t think it was the place's fault either – though Los Angeles can be a trying city, it also offers a wealth of natural and cultural diversions. I think it’s us. We just don’t like staying in one spot – any spot – for too long. We enjoy it while we’re there, and then it’s off to experience something completely different. All I can say is... no wonder we don’t have children – we’re just not the settling kind. And yet part of me still hopes to be a mother someday. Ah, what a tangled web we weave.

Since we’d surely go crazy if we didn’t travel, we’ve come to embrace the oddities and blessings of our imperfect life together. Of course, it helps me to have a place in each region that makes me feel a bit more grounded – a bit more connected to our present home. In Los Angeles, it’s the upper meadow in the Arboretum. In New Orleans, it’s a bench in Jackson Square. And in Michigan (where we’ll be for only three more weeks), it’s the hammock that sits beside Big Bear Lake.

Several times this past summer (though not nearly as often as I should have), I walked down the hill and headed to the little beach, where my in-laws’ beloved hammock sits. There, I’ve watched the eagles circling the lake and meditated on the serenity of nature. There, I’ve read many a book. There, I’ve contemplated my next steps in life. And, yes, on occasion, I’ve fallen asleep there, too, only to be awakened some time later by the call of a loon, the chill of a breeze, or the nudging of my hubby. What can I say? It’s a very comfortable hammock, and I’ll miss it when I go.

Whimsical Wednesday: Being a Lighthouse Keeper

I’ve only been blogging for six weeks, and I may already be deviating from my plan. According to my initial post, all “Whimsical Wednesday” entries should focus on my hobbies and interests. Memorable places are earmarked for “Tuesday Travels,” but today’s topic doesn’t fit exclusively into one category or the other.

True, lighthouses have intrigued many a traveler, but they’ve also captured the hearts and minds of countless writers, painters, photographers, historians, and preservationists – and the lighthouses of Michigan are no exception. The state’s 3,288-mile shoreline – which traces four of the five Great Lakes and is second in length only to Alaska – has nurtured over a hundred lighthouses, some of which are still operational. Some of these historic landmarks have even become inns and maritime museums.

Lighthouses have always fascinated me, and ever since I was a little kid, I’ve dreamed of being a lighthouse keeper. How I’ve longed for the peace of isolation, the promise of inspiration, the pride of conservation. Perhaps it’s the writer in me, but I’ve surely romanticized the life of a lighthouse keeper. It’s simple to focus on the positive aspects – the scenic beauty, the remote location, the chance to write – and forget the negative ones, such as loneliness, storms, and, of course, hard work. After all, I’m sure it wasn’t easy for lighthouse keepers of old to lug barrels of lantern oil up those narrow, winding staircases.

Such considerations, however, didn’t stop me from inquiring about the Keeper Program at the Grand Traverse Lighthouse on a recent visit to the tip of the Leelanau Peninsula. Built in 1858 and situated within Leelanau State Park, the Grand Traverse Lighthouse is one of the most well-preserved in Michigan. For a small fee, visitors can tour the restored keeper’s residence, check out maritime exhibits, and climb the lighthouse tower for a spectacular view of Lake Michigan and a few outlying islands.

From April to December, volunteers can stay for one or two weeks in the former assistant’s quarters on the northern side of the lighthouse as a lighthouse keeper. During this stay, volunteer lighthouse keepers are responsible for greeting visitors, providing historical information, assisting in the gift shop, cleaning and painting the buildings, and maintaining the grounds. Like lighthouse keepers of old, they must be in good physical condition, able to climb stairs, and willing to work long hours. Unlike the romanticized vision of 19th-century lighthouse keepers, however, these volunteers must be comfortable dealing with the public.

And, of course, that’s only one of many reasons why Dan thought I was insane for asking about the Keeper Program. “Let me get this straight,” he said on our way back to the parking lot. “You’d have to deal with the public, do manual labor, and pay for the privilege?” ‘Cause, oh, yes, I forgot to mention that it would cost us $880 to stay and work at the lighthouse for two weeks. As he pointed out, this wouldn’t exactly resemble the dream in my head... of staying in a remote lighthouse for a season, away from people and urban stresses – just us, our kitty, the lighthouse, and the freedom to craft our stories.

So, perhaps Dan’s right. Perhaps we would be better off spending that same amount of money on a writer’s conference or a romantic getaway. It wouldn’t be the same as experiencing the life of a lighthouse keeper – but, then, neither would participating in the Grand Traverse Lighthouse Keeper Program. Although I understand and appreciate the necessity for such volunteers, who contribute to the preservation of one of Michigan’s most treasured landmarks, I’m just not certain that it’s a good match for me. And besides, I’ve already climbed the tower steps. How can working the cash register at the admissions desk top that?

Monday Munchies: Blackberries Galore!

Today has become one of those days when there are more items on the to-do list than there are available waking moments. And yet, to preserve my sanity, I managed to allot a few minutes to one of my favorite activities: hunting for blackberries.

Only, it wasn’t much of a hunt. By August, roadsides throughout northern Michigan are bursting with ready-to-pluck blackberry bushes, and our driveway has been no exception. Indeed, despite the fact that I picked enough blackberries yesterday to fill a small plastic container, many of the berries that were red last night turned black by midday. Yahoo!

I'm utterly convinced that food tastes better when you have a hand in catching, picking, or preparing it yourself. The speckled trout that I snag on my father’s boat is far superior to any fish I could order in a restaurant – even in New Orleans. The tomatoes, zucchini, and eggplant that Dan and I grow in our garden are more flavorful than the produce we often find in a grocery store. The treats that I bake in my own kitchen (like my blueberry scones from a month ago) are far yummier than any I could find in a coffee shop. And the wild blackberries that I pick every summer are far sweeter than those I might spy in an overly priced produce bin.

Although I’ve been known to hunt for all manner of wild drupes during the summer – from raspberries to huckleberries – my fondest memories are of my blackberry adventures. As a child, I picked them with my mother in southern Louisiana. As an adult, I gathered them along the American River on a gold-panning trip with Dan and even discovered them outside the flat we inhabited in rural England. And, just today, I added a few more to the memory bank. The only question now is what to do with them. No matter how sweet they are, I can only eat so many before I tire of getting the teeny seeds stuck in my teeth. Maybe I should bake the next batch - which I plan to gather tomorrow morning. Hmm, what to make? Oh, I know! Blackberry scones, anyone?

Thoughtful Thursday: Places of Serenity

There’s no doubt that one’s environment can enhance or hinder the act of meditation. Woody Allen, for instance, once said that he finds it easier to fall asleep in Manhattan – with its 24-hour soundtrack of horns, sirens, and other urban distractions – than in the countryside, where the crickets and, worse, silence drive him insane. (Perhaps that explains a few things about that strange little man.)

In my case, though, I definitely find more peace in the natural world – which is probably why I always look forward to my summers in northern Michigan. Doing yoga amid the maple and birch trees, watching the sunrise over the lake, heck, even lying on the hammock, I can literally feel my blood pressure lowering, my lungs breathing easier, my muscles relaxing. And I know that it simply wouldn’t be the same in a city like New Orleans or Los Angeles, where it’s hard to escape the ever-present sounds of crowds and traffic.

Luckily, despite its bustling cities, crowded national parks, and other overwhelming destinations, America boasts an assortment of tranquil places. Some of my favorites include the desolate coastline of Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, the sculpted cliffs of California’s Red Rock Canyon State Park, the quiet saltwater marshes southeast of New Orleans, and the isolated mudflats on the northern end of South Padre Island. Regardless of what I’m doing – hiking, fishing, or just sitting in the sand – such locales make it easier for me to be still for a while, forget the day-to-day grind, and contemplate the bigger questions about life, the universe, and everything.

So, what about you? Do you believe that a person’s environment can enhance his or her meditation, and if so, what’s your favorite place of serenity?

Whimsical Wednesday: Wine Tastings

One of the many interests that my husband, Dan, and I share is a passion for wine. Pinot grigio, riesling, cabernet franc, shiraz, merlot, port – you name it, we’ve probably tried it. While I must admit that Dan is much better at the actual art of tasting wine – with an uncanny ability to discern the individual flavors that contribute to a particular vintage – I am nevertheless an avid wine lover. Although I might not always be able to differentiate between plum and cherry, oak and coffee, I sure as heck know what I like – and don’t like.

Given our mutual interest in wine, we were thrilled, earlier this week, to explore Michigan’s Traverse City area, a region that has slowly won acclaim for its grape growing and wine production. Surprising as it might seem for those more familiar with California’s Napa Valley, Michigan is an ideal place for vintners, vineyards, and viniculture. Two of the state’s most celebrated regions – Leelanau Peninsula and Old Mission Peninsula – lie north of Traverse City, on either shore of the West Arm of Grand Traverse Bay. The reason for the success of wineries in this region is fourfold: The sandy soil, hilly terrain, moderate temperatures, and lake-effect snows nurture the grapes and protect the vines during the winter.

On Monday, we decided to visit the Leelanau Peninsula, which lies northwest of Traverse City. Our first stop was Cherry Republic in Glen Arbor. Although Cherry Republic doesn’t have a vineyard of its own, its intimate tasting room offers cherry-influenced wines produced especially for sale at the Republic. While neither Dan nor I is a fan of fruit wines, we thoroughly enjoyed our laidback experience at Cherry Republic’s Stomp House, where we were able to sample (for free) as many varieties as we desired. My favorites were the cherry white wine (made from pinot grigio), cherry spiced wine (perfect for the winter holidays), and sangria (a blend of cherries, pineapple, lime, and lemon).

Afterward, we headed to Black Star Farms (10844 E. Revold Rd.) in Suttons Bay. A complex that includes a vineyard and winery, a creamery, and a bed-and-breakfast, Black Star actually charges for its tastings, but we were nonetheless curious about its offerings. In the end, I wasn’t enamored of the reds I tried, but I did enjoy the sparkling white wine and late-harvest pinot gris that I sampled.

On Tuesday, we toured the wineries of the Old Mission Peninsula. Our favorite stops were Chateau Chantal (15900 Rue de Vin), where I relished the Tonight and Celebrate! champagnes, and
Peninsula Cellars (11480 Center Rd.), situated in a converted one-room schoolhouse built in 1896. Not only are Peninsula’s wines quite good (like the 2006 Gewurztraminer), but the winery also has a more relaxed, fun-loving vibe than many of the others in this region. After all, staff members celebrate their schoolhouse history by writing lines like “I will only drink good wine!!! I will only drink good wine!!!” on the chalkboard and naming some of their wines clever things like Detention and Homework.

Since it would have been impossible to sample all of the more than 25 wineries that comprise the Grand Traverse Bay region, we were grateful for our abbreviated trip into wine country. If nothing else, it inspired us to (finally) take a wine-tasting class together. Perhaps then, I’ll learn to do as real wine connoisseurs do and spit out each sip before I'm tempted to swallow. The way I gulp it down now, I can’t usually visit more than two wineries in a row before feeling the adverse effects of such a haze-inducing hobby – if you know what I mean.

Monday Munchies: Key Lime Pie

For the third time in a week, I find myself scribbling “key lime pie” in a post. First, it was in reference to a recommended destination in the Florida Keys (for my American Nomad blog). Then, on Saturday, I mentioned it again in a travel post. So, seeing as how it’s my favorite dessert in the whole wide world, I think it’s the perfect time to discuss it here. After all, “Monday Munchies” is my self-imposed chance to highlight my top culinary cravings – and there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t yearn for a slice of sweet, tart, creamy key lime pie.

Darn it all, there I go again – wishing for something that I have no business eating. Grrr.

Although chocolate mousse and mint chocolate chip ice cream are a close second, key lime pie wins out every time. I’ve tasted it in restaurants and at festivals all over the country – from Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. Restaurant in San Francisco to the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival. Whenever I’ve met friends at The Cheesecake Factory (whether in Chicago, Burbank, or somewhere in between), I’ve never failed to order key lime cheesecake, no matter how tempting the myriad other varieties of scrumptious cheesecake might seem. At the grocery store, Edwards individual slices virtually call to me – so much so that I’ve learned to avoid the frozen food aisles altogether whenever I’m on a diet. Given my lime obsession, it might come as no surprise that margaritas and mojitos are my mixed drinks of choice, that I can’t pass up a lemon-lime Jelly Belly, and that I’ve been known to suck on lime slices until my tooth enamel aches.

When Dan and I were last in Key West, Florida, we made a point of stopping at the Blond Giraffe (107 Simonton St.) for a slice of classic key lime pie. A frequent award-winner, Blond Giraffe offers four other locations in Key West, so it’s not difficult to find. While there, we decided to be adventurous and try the pie-on-a-stick, essentially a frozen slice of key lime pie, covered in dark chocolate. Ooh-la-la! Just thinking about it makes me crave it all over again.

Tonight, Dan and I are in Traverse City, Michigan, and we’re planning to go to the Red Mesa Grill for dinner. Can you guess what I noticed on the online menu? That’s right – key lime pie! Woohoo! I can’t wait! So, as much as I would love to linger and chat, I have to get myself in gear. The key lime pie is a-waitin’, after all, but don’t worry, I’ll make sure to eat my dinner first. Before I go, though, I just have to know... what’s your favorite sweet treat?

Monday Munchies: American Spoon Foods

Today was Mom’s last full day in northern Michigan, and I wanted her to experience something that she wouldn’t find back in Louisiana. So, after much deliberation about places like Traverse City and Hartwick Pines State Park, Dan and I finally settled on taking her to Petoskey – a posh Michigan resort town alongside Little Traverse Bay. A favorite among tourists and Michiganders alike, Petoskey is about an hour’s drive from where we live, and Dan and I have been there many times.

So, Mom was excited about today's trip to this wonderful little town. The three of us arrived in the afternoon, and despite the overcast sky, we relished strolling amid the quaint shops of the Gaslight District, gazing at the sailboats in Bayfront Park Marina, touring the historic homes of nearby Bay View, and checking out the mushroom-shaped Odawa Casino. After shopping for jewelry fashioned from Petoskey stones (Michigan’s state stone, a lovely grayish-brown fossilized coral with a distinct honeycombed pattern), we headed up Lake Street in downtown Petoskey for a late lunch at the American Spoon Café (413 E. Lake St.).

Founded in 1982, American Spoon Foods has earned acclaim for its locally made fruit preserves, salsas, relishes, grilling sauces, and other condiments. Today, American Spoon has six stores in northern Michigan, plus the café and gelateria, which opened beside the original store in 2001. Open daily, the American Spoon Café is a delightful eatery that features some of northern Michigan’s finest local ingredients as well as American Spoon’s most popular products. Dan and I had eaten there before – and though the service had always been slow, we hoped that Mom would like the food as much as we did.

The menu had changed since our last visit, but our meal was nonetheless delicious. Mom ordered a blue cheese buffalo burger, Dan had a smoked turkey panini, and I tried something a little different. Besides some refreshing tart cherry lemonade and a cup of tomato-parmesan bisque – both of which I’d previously sampled – I ordered a grilled cheese duo, which included a sourdough sandwich with smoked mozzarella, red onion, and American Spoon Red Pepper Relish, plus an amazing bruschetta with blue cheese and American Spoon Apple & Onion Jam. Normally, I don’t like mixing sweet and salty ingredients, but I’m glad I took a chance on this dish - truly a winning combination.

Although we passed on gelato, plenty of families were crowded around the glass display case, choosing from two dozen awesome flavors – some of which Dan and I had tried before. After the scrumptious meal, we headed next door to the American Spoon store, where we taste-tested all manner of condiments, from Black & Blue-Berry Spoon Fruit to Ginger Plum Grilling Sauce. Everything we sampled – including their new apricot and cherry jammys – was fabulous.

So, if you ever find yourself in Petoskey, Michigan, I highly recommend stopping by American Spoon. You can’t go wrong with yummy treats made from locally grown produce. And, no, American Spoon is not paying me to say this! Though if they were willing, I’d settle for a lifetime supply of their products. That’s fair, right?

Petoskey on Dwellable