use real butter

Recipe: artichoke roasted pepper crab dip

***Jump to the recipe section***

I grew up sailing in southern Virginia since the age of nine, but living in Colorado doesn’t present many (any) opportunities to sail. So it was a huge enticement for me when part of my trip to Maine included a 4-day (4-night) cruise aboard The Schooner J. & E. Riggin, a historical landmark as decreed by the National Park Service. You can find the recap of the first half of my trip to Maine (the part on land) here.

Full disclosure: The Maine Office of Tourism and The Schooner J. & E. Riggin sponsored my transportation, lodging, and meals with no obligation on my part. All photographs, words, experiences, and especially opinions, are my own.

Day 4: Rockland, Russ Island, Lobster Bake
Day 5: Stonington, Islesboro
Day 6: Camden
Day 7: Rockland

Day 4: The Riggin was originally an oyster boat, built in 1927 and converted to a passenger boat in 1977. Now when I say cruise, I should note that this is not the kind of cruise that most people envision when they hear that word. It’s a real sailboat and guests participate in many of the manual operations on deck (no motorized winches or even winches for that matter) and partake of chores like dish duty. The sleeping quarters remind me of camping… but different. Each cabin has a small sink with cold running water and there are two communal heads (bathrooms) above deck which require manual flushing and minimal use of toilet paper (8 squares max per flush, kids). One of the heads doubles as a shower stall.

rockland

down the hatch leading to my cabin

where i slept

It’s an adventure, and if you’re game – it is a tremendous experience.

Before we set sail in the morning, chef and co-captain Annie Mahle (wife of Captain Jon Finger) and her galley crew, prepared a hearty and beautiful breakfast of banana cardamom pancakes with cinnamon pecan coffee syrup, fruit, and bacon for everyone. Maine boasts the largest windjammer fleet in the United States, but the Riggin is only one of two that has an actual chef on board. Annie has authored two cookbooks: At Home, At Sea: Recipes from the Maine Windjammer J&E Riggin and her latest book Sugar & Salt: A Year at Home and at Sea. Most of what is served aboard the Riggin is locally sourced and masterfully prepared in a closet-sized kitchen on a wood-burning stove under the restrictions of limited water usage (there is a finite amount of fresh water on board). Annie does not waste food, the Riggin composts as much as possible, and tries to keep trash to a minimum.

breakfast was served below in the galley

you can’t not love a woman serving a heaping pile of bacon

Sharon joined us for breakfast, but hugged us good-bye before we set sail, leaving us in the care of Captain, Annie, and the crew. I learned from Captain that there is no set agenda per se, that they sail based on the wind.

first mate, scott or “scoot”, keeps it tidy

scott and ian do a safety demo

the galley is small, but everyone congregates there

Once we cleared the harbor, passengers were asked to help the crew raise the sails. It was a bluebird day with steady winds as Captain sailed us across West Penobscot Bay past North Haven and through East Penobscot Bay. Annie served up a lunch of Asian rice noodles, cilantro and coconut duck, salmon zucchini rice cakes, and a whole slew of fresh vegetables and pickles on deck as we sailed. We set anchor just off Russ Island and Annie gave us a lesson on lobsters.

ian and scott on the throat

tying off the sheet

sails

we got schooled

Captain shuttled us from the Riggin onto Russ Island where Annie and crew had set up a lovely spread of crudités, bacon blue cheese dip, watermelon, chips, and homemade apple cider. While the crew prepared for the lobster bake, Annie and Captain sat with their youngest, Ella, for some quality reading time together. Ella is part of the crew and you would be hard-pressed to meet an eleven year old as mature, hard-working, talented, and sweet as her. It’s a testament to the loving environment that her parents have provided for her. The kid is awesome.

appetizers

boiling the lobsters

family time

**Jump for more butter**

Recipe: spicy tuna roll burger

***Don’t forget you have until the end of Friday, June 1, 2012 to enter my giveaway. Five people will win a custom dog or cat collar for their favorite furry pal and I will also donate $20 to each person’s animal shelter or rescue of choice!***

The more Jeremy and I talk about it, the more I am convinced that a mountain bike is a great thing to have during the zombie apocalypse. And a bike repair kit. You’ll want a backpack for carrying weapons and other stuff.

oh, and you’ll want a wendy

When I first met Wendy, she was making a delivery of autumn forage to a restaurant: beautiful wild apples, wild grapes, sumac, juniper berries… “Wow!” I exclaimed, “where do you find those?” It was an innocent question, but I didn’t realize that is a question you DO NOT ask a professional wild foods forager. She pursed her lips and grinned like a Cheshire Cat, raising her eyebrows, tilting her head to give me the side eye. Thankfully, I had not offended.

We’ve been planning to go foraging together for months. So it finally happened this week! I drove down to the flats and met up with her in the morning because we both despise the heat. Foraging is a natural extension of hiking for me since I cover up (to protect from sun, bugs, and plants), I carry a pack, I do a lot of walking/hiking, and I identify plants and make note of what stages they are at. In this case, we do all of that AND gather edibles!

her list

Now, I was familiar with most of the plants we foraged, but I had never thought to eat them nor knew that one could. Wendy taught me about the edible parts, the poisonous parts, the stage to harvest, and taking great care to harvest a little bit to leave plenty for the wildlife and so the plants still thrive. She explained a good deal about medicinal and culinary uses of each plant, their typical habitats, and she knew a ton of information regarding the nutrition. Wendy is a bubbly, hilarious walking encyclopedia who sincerely enjoys what she does. You can’t really help but love her.

yucca blossoms

i had picked two and wendy had already picked all of these (okay, i was taking photos…)

milkweed

wear gloves to avoid the sticky white sap

I wasn’t in it for the food, I was really interested to learn how Wendy works and to watch a pro in action. We’re plant nerds, so we really had quite the time crawling about places to find the familiar and discover the new. It’s not terribly unlike some of the photography I do where I hike around and my eyes are in scan mode for a certain pattern or color. Pattern recognition. Wendy is quite adept at scanning for multiple plants among a field of what most everyone else would consider weeds. My brain was stuck in asparagus mode – maybe that’s because asparagus is the gateway plant to foraging for me? It’s something we’re all familiar with in the stores and markets, but to find it growing wild was so much fun!

end of the season here, but how precious is that asparagus!

wild roses (ten thousand times better than any domestic rose)

cattails

stinging nettles

From now on out, I don’t think I’ll be able to walk in green areas without going into search mode. Wendy did point out one lovely plant that stood about 6 feet high. “Don’t ever eat this, don’t even touch it to your mouth. This can kill you.” She explained that most of the plants in Colorado that are bad for you will make you sick, give you a headache, result in an allergic reaction, but not poison hemlock. Poison Hemlock is a neurotoxin and it is one of the few plants in the state that, when ingested, can result in death.

poison hemlock: deadly

We – well really it was Wendy – foraged enough to fill a large cooler. She tried to divvy up the loot and send me home with some, but I declined (except a small bag of elderflowers I had gathered). This is her food, what she lives on. The woman makes some impressive dishes with the ingredients too. I was mainly interested in seeing her at work and learning about the plants. I didn’t realize it would be as fun as it was fascinating. Wendy is a gem.

Another reason I didn’t take some of the wild foods home was because I already had a full fridge at home that demanded my attention. If you will recall that delectable California roll burger I made a few months ago, you can probably guess that I’ve been scheming to give a spicy tuna roll burger a shot.

ab-so-lutely

Spicy tuna sushi is no stranger in this house as we love the sushi and sushi bar-related bites. I get good sushi-grade maguro (tuna) from the Boulder Whole Foods seafood counter. Make sure you get sushi-grade which means the fish has been frozen to the appropriate temperatures (temperatures you won’t reach in your typical home freezer) for long enough to ensure the destruction of any parasites. Not so appetizing to discuss, but worth the alternative of not knowing…

mayonnaise, sriracha, green onions, maguro (tuna)

chopped onions and chopped tuna

mix in the mayonnaise

**Jump for more butter**

Recipe: blackened salmon sandwich

My head bobbled about fighting sleep as the car raced through the desert night. I jolted awake with each giant bug that appeared as a flash in the headlights before smearing across the windshield with a loud thwack. It had been a long day of driving (western states are big), then waiting, then shooting the eclipse, then driving some more. Jeremy was equally tired, but he knew the road to Socorro like the back of his hand. I remembered what Jeremy had asked me when we first started dating back in the day, “Are you a mountain goat or a desert rat?” I was a mountain goat. I didn’t actually know because I had spent little, if any, time in either. But I liked goats more than I liked rats. Turns out, I *am* a mountain goat – a happy happy mountain goat. Desert rat, I am not. I’m reminded of that every time I go to the desert.

cactus in bloom

In the morning, Jeremy left for his meeting and asked me to please be careful. I’m always careful. I’m a firm believer in self-preservation. I wear my big girl pants all the time. All of my visits to New Mexico have been spent hanging out with Jeremy’s family, my aunt’s family, and noodling about the northern part of the state. We have visited Carlsbad Caverns (caves and bats – AWESOME!!) and the Bosque del Apache (birds like you wouldn’t believe), but that was pretty much it for the southern half. The desert is not a destination of choice for me, but since I was practically there, I thought it was high time I went to see White Sands National Monument.

sprawling thunderheads on the drive south

White Sands is nestled in the Tularosa Basin of southern New Mexico, at the northern tip of the sprawling Chihuahuan Desert. It is the largest white sand dunefield in the world – white because the sand is derived from gypsum. This is the first park I’ve ever visited where I had to check for missile testing schedules (which close certain roads). It was stifling hot (mid 90s), humid, and windy when I arrived. Afternoon thunderheads boomed above me and sunshowers rained down periodically. I thought it best to retreat from the dunes. Sitting in the shade of a small picnic shelter, I watched half of my lunch (salad) blow away before it could reach my mouth. The clouds had made way for the blazing sun and sand pelted me from the southwest. I walked the dunes, scoping out the best places to shoot, hoping the winds would go away by sundown.

dark skies

the winds let up a little

heavy haze in the basin

A half hour before sunset, the character of the place changed. A no longer oppressive sun bathed the white dunes in soft gold light and blue shadows. It was still windy (that makes photography hard due to the blowing sand – if you care at all about your gear), but less ferocious. In the distance, I could see a handful of other visitors dotting the crests of high dunes, all witnessing the same magic.

the haze in the basin began to glow

crepuscular rays

I debated whether or not to shoot in the morning at all since the park doesn’t allow entry until an hour after sunrise. But this wasn’t vacation, this was work. I watched the sun rise in my rear view mirror on my drive over, spectacularly red and glowing as it rose above the Sacramento Mountains. Even an hour or more after sunrise, the sand felt nice and cool. The winds had not yet picked up and erased the tracks of the resident wildlife. It didn’t last long, but it was appreciated.

scamper scamper

you could pretend that it is snow

a sea of white

Time spent in the desert always brings a new level of respect for this harsh environment, for the massive views, for the weather, the light, and how they play. I’m still a mountain goat. Imagine the delight when I woke up at home this morning to see our valley dusted in snow – a good half inch on my deck.

As promised, there is a recipe – a good and easy recipe for summer! When I received that comped shipment of wild Alaskan seafood from the Alaska Seafood Marketing Institute, there were some lovely frozen sockeye salmon filets in the box. My typical lazy way to grill salmon is with olive oil, lemon slices, fresh dill, and salt and pepper. I wanted another recipe that was equally delicious and equally lazy.

salmon, butter, paprika, thyme, creole seasoning

arugula, aioli, sandwich bread

**Jump for more butter**