Voyages

Driving from the airport through Madison, Wisconsin, I kept saying: “Look, it’s the Midwest! It’s the heartland! It’s Big Sky country!” I wasn’t talking to myself—though that seems to be happening more and more—but rather to my stalwart travel companion: Lucy, age one.

Though I like to think I’m a fairly seasoned traveler, I’m definitely not experienced at traveling with a baby. But when I was invited to present my book at UW Madison’s Maison Française, I decided to bring my daughter on a Mama-Lucy adventure. We stayed with friends who have twins of about the same age and explored Madison in two-hour chunks squeezed in between naps. Here are my suggestions:

Pack appropriate baby toys. Keys, wallet, passport—all suitable for a one year old, n’est-ce pas? :) Seriously, when I posted this photo on Instagram, someone left a comment saying that airports should offer a play area at the gate. I couldn’t agree more!

Be patient at the farmers market. On summer Saturdays, the Dane County Farmers’ Market circles the State Capitol building. Pedestrian traffic flows in one direction (clockwise) and it moves slowly, especially for this impatient New Yorker. This is the largest producer-only farmers’ market in the States and it’s worth a meander (you won’t be able to move much faster than that). My favorite purchases were bratwurst sausages, cheese curds (they squeak against your teeth—Lucy loved ’em), and Yukon gold potatoes with such a rich, earthy flavor that I felt like I was eating real potatoes for the first time in my life. Runner up: Wisconsin corn, sweet and juicy.

Find a grill. It’s the best way to cook those local brats. The skin gets snappy, crisp and smoky, the interior juicy and succulent, salty with a peppery punch. We enjoyed them on buns, with grilled onions and a dab of mustard.

Play with cheese curds. After we sampled them and fed them to the babies, we still had the better part of a bag. I made a potato gratin with the rest, layering potato slices with grated curds and cream. It was heavenly. (And good for you! ;) Funnily enough, even when grated, melted and combined with starchy potatoes, the curds still squeak against your teeth, a sensation that’s not entirely unpleasant.

Meat up at Metcalfe’s. This family-owned supermarket chain features loads of local products including Neuske’s bacon and an entire aisle of hot dogs (photo above). Lucy’s favorite part was riding in the shopping cart (the very first time for my city girl :)

Find fellow Francophiles. UW Madison’s Maison Française—which hosted my book event—was so cozy and welcoming, I was tempted to curl up on the living room sofa and watch films of the Nouvelle Vague. Students sign a language pledge to live here, and all conversation takes place en français. But here’s the best part: On Wednesdays and Fridays, the dining room is open to the public for French conversation à table over lunch or dinner! (Seriously, if I lived in Madison, I would be a regular.)

Sunday (or any sunny day) is for raspberries. I’d never been berrying before, and found it amazingly satisfying, reaching between the thorny stems to pluck the softest, sweetest, most unblemished raspberries I’d ever seen. Every few minutes, a plump little hand crept into my pint box and helped itself. Sutter’s Ridge Farm also had U-pick apples, a couple of friendly goats, and a rather eclectic kitten shed.

Eat downtown. Madison has so many great restaurants, though I was limited to baby friendly territory. We enjoyed a lunch of grilled cheese and Mexican corn chowder at Graze (very kid friendly, in case you’re wondering :) Next time I want to try Marigold Kitchen. If you’re in the mood for drinks and porky bar snacks, I recommend the spiced nuts and candied bacon at Heritage Tavern.

Shop for cheese. Wisconsin produces so many different types of cheese—during my brief visit, I sampled Alsatian-style Muenster, brebis, chèvre, cheddar, and burrata—all locally made. The variety reminded of France, except it was better because Wisconsin cheesemakers aren’t limited by tradition—the sky’s the limit! Fromagination, in downtown Madison, is a wonderful place to shop for cheese, with knowledgeable staff who are generous with samples. Hook’s twelve-year cheddar was nutty and tangy. I had to buy a wedge to bring home.

(Photo of me and Lucy by Heather Willis Allen.)

In May, I visited Prince Edward Island to research a travel story on Anne of Green Gables (which appears in this Sunday’s New York Times). I know, I say this every time, but this was one of my favorite pieces to report and write. As a lifelong fan of Anne-with-an-e,  the entire experience was a joy. The photos that illustrate the article are stunning, but I thought I’d share a few snapshots from my travels with Anne Shirley…

The Dunelands trail (photo above), part of the Prince Edward Island National Park, edges a magnificent rock and sand shore. She doesn’t mention it in Anne of Green Gables, but Maud—as L.M. Montgomery was known—often walked here. “To my left extended the shining curve of the sandshore; on on my right were rugged rocks with little coves, where the waves swished on the pebbles,” she wrote in her journals. “I could have lingered there for hours and watched the sea with the gulls soaring over it.”

Green Gables looked so exactly as I’d pictured it, I almost burst into tears. I went through the house twice and on my second visit I was alone (it was lunchtime), just me and a couple of Parks Canada staff. I felt like I’d actually stepped into the pages of the book.

Here’s the Haunted Wood—and you can see the 18-hole golf course that surrounds it, too.

As I ventured further and further from Cavendish, everywhere I looked I caught glimpses of Maud’s island of “ruby, and emerald, and sapphire.”

My late May visit allowed me to see the island in its spring glory. “The young leaves are such a bright, tender green,” wrote Maud in her journals. “The grass is green and velvety, starred with hundreds of dandelions.”

“I don’t know what lies around the bend, but I’m going to believe that the best does,” said Anne, at the end of Anne of Green Gables. “I wonder how the road beyond goes—what there is of green glory and soft, checkered light and shadows—what new landscapes—what new beauties—what curves and hills and valleys further on.”

More reading about Lucy Maud Montgomery:

Mary Henley Rubio’s Lucy Maud Montgomery: The Gift of Wings, is one of the best biographies of an author I’ve read, meticulously researched, offering insights into Maud’s personality—and a shocking, controversial theory about her death.

Maud’s journal from 1889-1910 was a charming companion to my trip.

Of course, I reread Anne of Green Gables and found her as lovable as ever.

With recipes, crafts, and more, The Anne of Green Gables Treasury is a wonderful way to recreate Anne’s world (for kids—or anyone!). Co-author Carolyn Collins also has a website, Ingleside Impressions, filled with Anne info.

And you can check out my article here and read about my oyster fishing adventures here :)

When I packed my bags to research an article on Prince Edward Island last month, I had two things on my mind. 1) Anne of Green Gables (more on this soon), and 2) Oysters. Harvested from the deep, moody waters of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, the island’s Malpeque variety has been famous for centuries—even Queen Victoria was a fan, importing barrels to England—prized for its delicate flavor and clean, sweet finish. Interestingly, the island’s oysters have also been fished in the same way for centuries—brought up by long-handled tongs that are powered by human strength alone. I was thrilled to learn more about the island’s native oyster from Phyllis Carr, who owns Carr’s Shellfish, a local seafood purveyor, with her husband, Robert. And the next day, on a bright, clear morning, I visited Carr’s oyster beds with fisherman Philip Buote—and attempted a bit oyster fishing myself.

On the Malpeque oyster:
Though the northwestern end of the island is called Malpeque, “all oysters found on PEI are considered the Malpeque variety,” says Phyllis. Oysters start out as spat, tiny shellfish about the size of a quarter that attach to a solid surface, like a larger oyster. “It’s illegal to bring in spat with mature oysters. They have to be completely cleaned off on the boat and put right back into the sea,” says Philip. It takes four to seven years for an oyster to reach maturity—that’s about three inches long. “Oysters like a hard bottom surface,” says Phyllis. “But the bigger they get, the more room they need to grow. The best oysters grow slowly, without crowding.” Malpeques are sold in three sizes: small choice, large choice, and extra-large choice.

On wild oyster fishery:
The island’s oysters are fished from the wild, using a 15-foot dory and a pair of long-handled oyster tongs that end in rake-like teeth. The fisherman leans over the side of the boat and drops the tongs into the water, closing them at the bottom of the bed to capture a small quantity oysters mixed with mud and seaweed. He then drags the closed tongs up through the water and deposits the cache on the prow of the boat. “Oyster tongs are the only legal way to fish oysters on public water in PEI,” says Phyllis. It’s “very labor intensive,” slow, and painstaking work—each load collects only a few oysters—requiring strength and agility. “A public fisherman spends eight, ten hours out on the water every day, dredging, sorting, dredging.” says Philip.

In case this is all hopelessly confusing, this video explains it better:

On oyster bed politics:
Prince Edward Island’s landscape is defined by the gulf—the water not only surrounds the land, it also reaches into it in narrow inlets and ponds, creating clean, cold pools that oysters love. Many of these areas are considered “public water,” says Phyllis, and fishing them “is strictly governed, requiring a fish-specific license,” which is limited, expensive, and hard to obtain. The island also has oyster beds—called “leases”—which are bodies of water rented from the federal government. Carr’s maintains five leases. They buy oysters from fisherman on the public water, and transfer the shellfish to their beds at Stanley Bridge, where they grow plump and clean.

On working the leases:
During the summer, Philip heads out in the dory once or twice a day to fish the leases, and turn over the beds. “In the warmer months, the leases need to be worked everyday to maintain them,” says Phyllis. Winter brings a dormant period. “We don’t work the leases then,” she says. “Everything freezes over from December to March,and when the water gets very cold, the oysters lock their shells and stay closed.”

On the best time to eat oysters:
Though enjoying shellfish only in months with an “r” is “kind of a myth,” says Phyllis, she thinks the “fattest, best quality oysters” are found in October, November, and December. “Oysters hibernate—like bears,” she says. “They fatten up during the warmer months, and hibernate during the winter.” In March and April, “they’re coming off their winter sleep so they’re getting thin and weak, waiting for the warm water to feed.” By autumn, they’re plump and delicious—just in time for the holiday season.

Just for fun, here’s what happened when I tried oyster fishing:

Did I catch anything?

Me and “my haul.” ;)

Back inside, Philip shucked two fresh oysters for me and I ate them right away, straight from the sea. They were briny and delicate, the ocean-temperature flesh sweeter and warmer than oysters served on a bed of ice. Fishing and eating them was one of the best moments of my life.

(Photos of me snapped by Philip Buote.)