James Rafferty Blog

Writer's Notebook: Signs of the Seasons

Fall in New England is one of my favorite seasons.  I've lived in New England most of my life, but never tire of the variety this season brings to us. 

Yesterday, I rode with a business colleague through New Hampshire and Vermont.  It was Columbus Day, sometimes celebrated as a holiday in the United States, and often touted as a great weekend for viewing foliage.  Well, in most years, you won't see much but bare trees in Northern New England by the time that weekend rolls around.  Happily, this year is an exception.  We had copious amounts of rain in the Spring and enough during the summer so that the foliage this year is rich in colors of gold, harvest brown, and pumpkin orange, and many shades in between.  Smoke from wood fireplaces drifts in the air, stirring ancient urges to gather around the warmth.  As the temperature drops, we develop a taste for hearty meals such as stews, curries, and ragouts, washed down by mugs of hot cider, cocoa and pints of auburn ale. 

Frost warnings permeate the weather forecasts, but often the days are still warm enough to enjoy our favorite outdoor activities, be it tossing a football, riding a bike, hiking a trail or walking with your pet. 

For a writer, autumn presents backgrounds that tickle the senses, but the season also works as a metaphor for the passing of years and the progression toward mortality.  I've included scenes of Fall in my novels and the nip in the air, variegated colors of leafy canopies and harvest aromas can transport the reader directly to that destination, bringing it alive. 

As a reader, how to you react to seasons in writing?  Do authors draw you in with the vivid descriptions of the change that Autumn or Winter brings?  Or is there a hidden terror in these periodic changes of life and its rhythms? 

If you are a writer or another type of artist, how important are the seasons in your work?  Do they inspire you?  Do they transport your characters to new realizations or spiritual yearnings?  Let's talk about the seasons and how they affect your art.  

American Versailles: The Biltmore Estate

What if a gentlemen with unlimited resources joined forces with a world famous architect and the genius who designed Central Park and built an estate over hundreds of acres in the mountains.   George Vanderbilt did exactly that when he initiated The Biltmore over one hundred years ago in the hills of western North Carolina on the edges of the city Asheville.  

I've seen the Vanderbilt summer cottage in Newport, known as The Breakers, but the Biltmore estate was much more ambitious.  Like The Breakers, the huge mansion is heavily influenced by then current trends in Italian and French architecture, but the piece de resistance is the remarkable estate surrounding this home and the scale on which the estate was envisioned.  

I drove into the Biltmore and went at least 2 miles before we even got close to the main Biltmore House.  When designing the landscape, Frederick Olmstead deliberately built the long winding roads that pass by lush forests and local rivers, so that guests would realize they were passing into a different kind of experience.  Suffice to say, it works.  On this day, crews were out with chainsaws repairing the damages from a storm the prior evening, but the many trees and plants along the edges of the roads still enchanted, bringing a calming effect as the drive continued.    

Today, the estate has been preserved by the Vanderbilt family, so it is a hugely popular tourist spot that needs the satellite parking lots about a quarter of mile away from the main house.   I joined my fellow tourists on the shuttle bus and we were dropped off by the front door.  But on this way in, here is the view of the main Biltmore House:  

 

I took the walking tour on my visit. Inside, each of the major rooms is distinct.  Sitting rooms often have art from world renowned artists of the day including Whistler, John Stewart Sargent and Renoir.  

Looking out, you can see the views which Olmstead sought, where the house stands above the fields below, but also looks on to the Smoky mountains in the distance. 

 

This is the kind of place where even the nooks and crannies are special.  The exterior of the main house brought to mind another famous French building -- Notre Dame in Paris.  Like Notre Dame, the exterior of the house had a variety of carefully sculpted gargoyles who did double duty in serving as water spouts to drain water away from the house in the event of rain.  No sign of such rain this day; the temperatures pushed 90 degrees even in the morning.  

The interior rooms for the family members were huge.  Each room had a different style, though variations of double posted beds were common.  Here again, I saw the influence of Versailles in the attention to detail, be it in special wallpapers, imported furniture and, in one case, a fireplace taken from Europe and reconstructed here.  

Tying the house together is the Grand Staircase which winds upward in a style much like the one featured in Gone With the Wind.  Here is a glimpse of the staircase looking down from the top floor. 

 

As distinctive as the interior of the house is, the exterior grounds designed by Olmstead offer an even more colorful and varied set of views.  

On the left of the main house, the collection of carefully tended gardens begin.   Looking forward from the Libary Terrace is the Italian Garden.  Here, a combination of leafy green plants, ivory statues and stone bordered pools create an oasis of beauty which contrasts with the wilder appearance of the forests soaring skyward behind it.   

 

Next, I began the walk downhill toward the conservatory and was immediately distracted by magnificent hanging gardens.  On a cooler day, I can imagine sitting under the vineyard style trestles and reading for hours.  

On this day, the scorching heat made me think it was time to find water and lunch, not necessarily in that order.  But first, a quick walk down to the walled gardens seemed essential.  Which looked like this: 

 

And putting the garden against its backdrop, revealed this pastiche:  

 

The walk through these gardens provided a feast for my eyes, but the heat from the sun was unrelenting, so I bid adieu to the gardens and returned to the main house of the estate.   I circled back to the other side of the house and checked in at the front desk of the stable cafe.  The place was very busy, but I was able to get a seat almost immediately.   A waiter quickly came by and brought me a large lemonade and ice water, which I began to drink to get rehydrated.  Looking around, I noticed that the tables were set in the former horse stalls and built of polished hardwood and wrought iron.   Like everything else I experienced at the Biltmore, the drinks were excellent and gave me a chance to scope out the menu.  The variety of choices left me with a tough decision, but I opted for Lamb Sliders based on the description provided by my attentive waiter.  Shortly afer this, he came by with hot cornbread.  Perfect to whet my appetite. 

I wrote up a few postcards and then tended to the food when it arrived.  The sliders were excellent, silver dollar sized slices of lamb on a small toasted bun with a horseradish sauce.  I added a taste of catsup and the blended taste was outrageous.  

So ended my trip to the Biltmore.  I had an appointment after this, so with great reluctance, I returned to my car and followed the 4 mile loop through more forest and past the Biltmore winery, finally exiting the estate.  I got my money's worth on a discounted ticket and definitely want to go back again with my wife and family to share this amazing treasure built into the hills on the outskirts of Asheville.  

Return to Asheville

My son and I have returned to Asheville, North Carolina as he prepares for enrollment at a local school in the fall.  We walked the city center in the late afternoon and delighted in its many contrasts.  Asheville is packed with galleries and work of local artists, so the local art association was our first stop.  The woman supervising the gallery gave us a quick rundown of the local art scene, which is not only downtown but in an arts district by the river.   The artist whose work was on display, Gerald Jonas, had a panopoly of canvas on display which explore the world in brilliant colors and with elements of texture.   And a great sign: "It's okay to touch."  

Down the road, we walked past an open air farmer's market, featuring station wagon's and truckloads of local produce, and then onto a food coop, which featured a cornupcopia of fresh foods and much more.  

The streets here remind me of San Francisco; lots of undulating blocks where you turn a corner and the next amazing art deco building shows it face.  The town's building look mostly unchanged from years

past, as evidenced by ads painted on brick on many sidewalls, advertising products from -- I'd guess -- the post-WWII era.   There are newer buildings, but the percentage of older ones is much higher than in a city like Boston.  

We worked up an appetite, then returned to a French restaurant called Bouchon, which promised French comfort food.  Exactement.  I recommended my son try the Steak au Poivre and I had a scintillating boulliabaise, with a glass of Alsatian Hugel on the side.  It reminded me of restaurants I'd been to in Paris and my son drew the comparison with our trip to Quebec City last year. 

Our outdoor dinner was mildly interrupted by a flash.  People at the table next to us quickly asked if anyone had been using a flash camera.  Nope.  Bowling ball thunder rattled the tables a moment later.  We reconnoitered indoors and continued our dinner there. 

Afterwards, we walked a few blocks back to our hotel.  The black night and wet streets offered striking views en route, made more so when lightning flashed overhead.  My son and I both agreed that the word for this city, especially at night, is dramatic.  

This evening, I took another walk in the city and the weather was more cooperative.  Smoke rose up from the base of the mountains overlooking downtown.  To our west, the sky tinted red at sunset, signaling what I hope will be a sunny day tomorrow.  

I'll close with a few photos from the walk about town. 

 

Inside Grove Arcade

 

Flowers by the public theater entrance

 

Call letters for the local public radio station

 

James pets a local cat

Walking in Asheville

We arrived at Asheville, North Carolina about mid-day yesterday.   Our Hertz GPS was totally baffled by the instruction to go to Woodfin Road and dropped us on a country mountain road.  Nope, no sign of our hotel there.  We re-synched and headed back to on HWY 541 until we got to Rt 25 (aka Biltmore).  We went about a mile to find the Athena cafe.  They had a variety of Greek items on the menu, plus things like pizza for the less adventurous.  Three of us ordered variations on the Gyro platter.  My version came with thin slices of cooked lamb on strips of gyro bread, bracketed by a healthy-sized Greek salad.  Yum.  My youngest ordered pizza, which he demolished with a little bit of help.  Hungers sated, we were ready to explore the town. 

It turned out our hotel was on the other Woodfin Road, not far from Biltmore, so we decided to park at the hotel and avoid any extra parking charges.  We settled in at the hotel and immediately felt comfortable.  The view from the 10th floor looked like this: 

The weather had turned cool and windy, so we dressed warmly for our walk around the downtown.  Our guidebook talked about the Urban Trail, so we decided to follow that. The man at the front desk at our hotel was very helpful, suggesting we go to the Art Museum to get a map of the trail.   Nice idea, but when we got to the monument in front of the museum, we discovered it was closed on Mondays.   We were told that the trail was marked on the sidewalks, but must have looked confused, since a group of college age kids came up and asked if they could help us.  One girl in particular was very helpful, giving us tips on which streets to follow and suggesting we find our way to Grove Plaza.  

We began walking from our start at Pack Square and soon found pink stones embedded in the sidewalk marking the walking trail.  We also discovered that the city's reputation for having very well preserved Art Deco architecture was quite accurate.  We also saw other unfamiliar sites, such as a Five and Dime store.  One building after another had stunning architecture, so we didn't mind the cold weather so much.   We turned a corner and then found a red and gold sign for F. W. Woolworth.  We stepped into the erstwhile department store and found an old style soda fountain, meticulously restored, adjacent to a series of booths housing work of local artists.  The art was phenomenal and much of it had clear connections to the remarkable cityscape and the surruounding mountains of Asheville.  My oldest son loves art, so he just reveled in the many different types of art available for viewing.   We also discovered that there had been a water main break downtown, so the soda fountain was closed, along with my of the nearby restaurants.   

We resumed our walk and found more of the pink stone markers, which led us to a pedestrian walkway known as Wall Street.  It looks like this:  

We were impressed by a very new building we saw at the end of that block, but our street markers had vanished, so we decided to start looping back.  Turning the corner, we encountered the recently refurbished Grove Plaza:  

   

This spectacular example of Art Deco at it best was built in 1927, but had languished for many years when the building had been taken over by the Federal government for its National Weather Center.   The current version of the building re-opened in 2002 and now houses a variety of intriguing shops.  We strolled into a combination high end grocery and wine store and couldn't resist buying some fruit snacks and other items for the rest of our trip.   Beyond that store, we walked through an inner atrium which simply amazed us with its intricacy of design, clean lines and remarkable use of light. 

We took advantage of the respite from the chills of the outdoors and a woman proprietor told us about the history of the building and how it nearly had been torn down, before being rescue re-furbished in its current form.  She was very friendly and gave tips on places we should consider visiting in light of our son's interest in art.  

We continued the tour outside and soon encountered an amazing Basilica, featuring what is reputed to be the largest domed roof of its kind in North America.   Nearby, we walked into the civic center, which has bronze statues of musicians in full stride in front.  We walked and walked, finding more trendy restaurants of many different cuisines (while making mental notes for later) and finally got to the part of the tour where the symbol was a red angel.   Yes, we were about to encounter the footsteps of a famous native son, Thomas Wolfe, whose novel Look Homeward, Angel, borrowed much about Asheville for that novel.  There were imprints of his footprints, proving that Wolfe was a large man, and not only for the amount of words that he could spew on a page.  We'd reached the end of the walking tour -- a yellow boarding house that had served as the backdrop for Wolfe's novel.  Since it was Monday, it too was closed.     

That night, we circled back to Walnut Street, walked up a steep hill and stepped into Zambra, a restaurant featuring Spanish cuisine, in the style of a Tapas bar.  With the help of our waitress, we ordered small plates:  a delightful salad of pears and local greens, a second grassier set of greens, curry flavored albondigas -- a kind of meatball -- and two larger dishes of Paella and trout.   The food challenged our palettes, but was well worth the effort.  So ended our night in Asheville.  

Laser Lights in Hong Kong

In many ways, my last full day in Hong Kong was the best.  I started out the day with a walk in Kowloon Park.   During our group excursion to The Peak the night before, one of my local colleagues told me how to find it.   The Royal Pacific hotel has a restaurant called Cafe on the Park; in fact, if you look closely, there is a side exit that takes you out of the hotel and provides access to a skywalk, several stories above the street level.   After two days in the concrete jungle, Kowloon Park was a relief.  I arrived about 6:45 and quickly noticed that that park buzzed with activity.  In cul-de-sacs off of the main path, people of all ages performed slow motion twists, bends and stretches, akin to my own morning regime but more influenced by Oriental disciplines such as Tai Chi.   

Unlike the grid pattern at street level, paths, walkways and twisting stairwells branched off in many directions.  My own route led past an evergreen maze, composed of emerald green shrubs, and then descended down a twisting series of steps, before I began to loop back under a canopy of local deciduous trees.   The greenery reminded me of Hawaii and the temperature hovered at about 65 degrees F (25 degrees C) during my walk.   I continued across and found an aviary at the next level, first passing a covey of white flamingos.   The bird sanctuary itself housed birds with bright green and yellow plumage, reminding me of parrots, but without the chatter.   I continued my walk, tracing loops within loops, before dropping down to the main park level and beginning my return.   

After a busy day of meetings and presentations, our group walked on foot about 6 blocks over to the edge of the harbor.   We took an escalator up about two stories and reached a restaurant which specialized in Northern Chinese cuisine.  Our food was served up one dish at a time.  The items were first placed on a circular platter for viewing by all and then divided up and served to each person.   The food was quite good, but the process went on a for long time.   

We sat in a corner of the restaurant, overlooking the harbor and we had fine views of the rest of Kowloon before us and Hong Kong city to our left.  The sunset was colorful, but the real show began at 8:00.  The peak of a skyscraper across the harbor squirted a pencil thin burst of laser light in the direction of a building across the harbor in Kowloon, then was joined by other bright colors emanating from one  building after another.  The bursts of fiery white, green and yellow, creating geometrically spewed ephemeral designs across the waters of the harbor, showed Hong Kong in its role of high tech celebrant, flexing its muscles with an optimistic light show for all to watch.  It felt like a statement to the world saying, yes, there is economic pain now, but don't forget to celebrate.   

Later that night, I watched a snippet from a local news program on my hotel television.  My favorite columnist, Tom Friedman of the New York Times, gave an interview to a lissome twenty-something newswoman in a setting that looked like a fast food restaurant.   Friedman talked about the many challenges faced by today's world.  When asked how he chose his projects, he said that he followed his gut instincts based on what caught his attention.  Shortly, the interview came to an end.  The woman smiled through her pasted red lipstick and made up ivory cheeks, signing off the interview, Live from Hong Kong.  

Friedman's presence symbolized to me that Hong Kong is one of the centers of change that will likely lead the way to a different world for those in the next generation.  It felt like a validation of the trip, one sign among the many that I experienced in my scant few days in this city.   

I'll leave with a couple glimpses of the laser show we saw, in low def, courtesy of my cell camera:  

Carolina Times and on to Virginia

Today my family and I flew to Raleigh, North Carolina.  We're down  here for a visit to see two colleges and see a museum that has a strong connection with my wife's family.  This is the second time in nine months that I've travelled en famille and it is so much different than the usual business trip.  For example, I know the airline security drill by rote, but I had to coach my family through the various details of how to get our stuff through onto the gate side of Logan Airport, so that we could get on our way. 

Logan does have one pleasant feature that betrays a New England flavor.  There are white rocking chairs situated in a spot which looks out onto the airfield and the far edges of East Boston beyond it; my family enjoyed a few minutes of rocking before we moved over into the regular gate area.  

After a short delay, we got onto our regional jet.  It's pretty tight for space, so we needed to check our biggest bags at the end of the jetway before getting on the the plane.   The flight was uneventful, but we didn't get to our rental car until about 2:15 in the afternoon.  We were all tired and ready for lunch by then, so we drove west on Route 40 in search of a diner that was recommended in our travel guide. 

We got off at the recommended exit and drove about a bit, but the directions were not too clear.  So we pulled into the next shopping plaza, drove up to a restaurant called Fuddruckers and declared victory.  It was the first time any of us had been there, but they served burgers and other food with a minimum of fuss and bother and we were all generally pleased with the quality of what we got and we now ready to continue our journey.  

The car came with the Hertz Never Lost GPS system, so it was time to check that out.  Without too much effort, I figured out how to punch in our destination in Roanoke Virginia and we were informed that we had 155 miles and about 3 hours on the trip ahead of us. 

I drove the first half hour and then my oldest son relieved me.  The traffic levels weren't too bad, but we found Greensboro to be fairly busy for a Saturday and it took us a while to make our way through this sprawling city cum exurb and head up Rt 220 to Roanoke. 

About 40 miles later, Rt 220 crossed over into Virginia and the terrain started to undulate.   In the distance, we got our first glimpse of the Blue Ridge mountains.  As we continued to drive North, the views got more spectacular and we particularly enjoyed the sunset, where banks of clouds rose up above the mountains, pink underlacing the gray puff above and the panorama near took our breath away.   Rt 220 winds all over the place and soon it was time for my wife to take the wheel.  She drove the rest of the way, but the hills got steeper and we had to be very careful coming down the backside of mountain roads as they twisted in turned in several directions.  

At last we found ourselves driving through Roanoke and got a preview of the town that we'd be seeing the next day.  I'd done a bit of research in our AAA guide and convinced the family we had to try our a place called the New Yorker Delicatessen and Restaurant.  It turned out we didn't even need to get back on the highway.  Our GPS took us to Williamson street, which is lined with both restaurants and the occasional bail bonds and check cashing places.  About a mile down the road, we got to an old style place that looked very much like the deli restaurants we knew from the New York area.  

The menu was old school in all respects.  The food was classic New York: Pastrami, Reubens, Nova, and all kinds of suitable side dishes.   We all placed our orders.   Soon, plates stacked with food arrived at the table.  I dug into my Reuben and was very pleased with the lean and very tasty pastrami.   Other food we ordered like a Bagel with Nova, fresh brown beans, a turkey sandwich and a concoction of Bratwurst and sauerkraut called the Germantown special, all proved to up to very high standards and priced at bargain levels we had not seen in many years.  The boys topped off the meal with desserts of cheesecake and strawberry ice cream and we all walked out full.  The trip is off to an auspicious start.  

Musings: Northeast Vacation

I began writing this post using a top ten motif, but decided there were more than ten experiences worth talking about on the family vacation which we just completed.  

We did a grand circle, beginning in the Boston area, then heading north to Freeport, Maine, onward for three days stays in Quebec City and Montreal, and then returning back home via Vermont and New Hampshire.  This was an expensive year for a driving vacation, especially one to Canada, but we'd decided it was time for our kids to get a more diverse summer vacation experience, including one with cultural and languages differences.   It was expensive, yes, but our experiences were also rich.  

What follows is a sampling of our best experiences on the trip, roughly in the order they happened.  We had fun and learned a lot.   It is presented here in table form, but one can think of it as a geodesic guide, as the experiences built and overlapped upon each other.   I've written about other parts of this trip here and here.   Bon Voyage!

Locale	Experience
All	Biking - People riding bikes were everywhere on our vacation, though notably in Montreal and Burlington, VT.  Most riders were fit and all were saving money.  This meshed well with the green friendly theme which was a subtle undercurrent everywhere we visited, from LL Bean in Freeport, Maine onto the cities which followed.
Maine	Just off of interstate 95, on Route 201, we found Sandy's Kitchen.   Sandy's is a classic diner, but with individual touches such as hand-painted sunflowers on the walls. Our waitress Donna was quick with a smile and a friendly word, and very popular among the men who visited the diner.  The food was scrumptious.  My wife and I shared a Reuben, pastrami piled high on thick, homemade bread.  Thus fortified, we were ready to tackle the long drive to Quebec City.
Quebec City	Dining Out - Dinner was expensive in Quebec City, but the quality was outstanding.   On our first night in QC, we ate at Bistro sous le Fort in the lower part of the old city.  The service was attentive and the bistro fare both diverse and tasty, with dishes such as an appetizer plate with pate, Caembert, and Brie, duck served three ways and fresh seafood.   We hoped for economy at Verla the next night; instead we got a top end Italian dining experience via the Table d'hote menu, with fresh greens in either Insalate Verde or Caesar salad, carrot soup to cleanse the pallette and excellent pastas or veal for the main course.   The following night, Le Cochon Dingue struck a better balance of quality and economy.  Our waitress was friendly and energetic and the food outstanding.  I had two bowls of mussels as my main dish, served with marinades of mustard and smoked salmon, while my family ate the barbecqued ribs.   Nobody left hungry.
Quebec City	Musee de le Civilization - This museum was outstanding and had appeal for our entire family.  Highlights for us were the exhibit on the history of Gold and Urbanopolis, a fact-filled journey into the design of cities past, present and future.   Later, we visited the outdoor Visionaries Garden, a unique exhibit composed of row upon ascending row of plants: herbs, vegetables and flowers, accompanied by windsongs played on chimes.
Quebec City	Marche du Vieux-Port - We weren't sure what this was, but walked in and voila, a farmer's market under a white tented roof.   Everywhere, there were fresh goods, ranging from strawberries, blueberries and other fruits, onto more exotic items such as hemp seeds and products.   Our family bought candies, maple tarts, and fresh strawberries for the next day's breakfast, but there was much, much more.
Montreal/QC	Driving and Parking in the City - Taking the car was difficult in Quebec City and painful in Montreal.   We spent at least $15 per day if we used the car, just on parking.
Montreal	Biosphere - This is the globe shaped building built on St. Helene Island for Expo 67 (see below).   The museum is dedicated to a one world eco-view, but manages to be both fun and educational.   We played at Water Genie, learned from the master at Planet Bucky (aka Buckminster Fuller) and stretched out on the climbing wall in the Great Lakes exhibit.
Montreal	Atwater Market - When the cost of food gets too high, it's time to go to this bastion of fresh food. I learned about the market when staying with local friends and it offers a wide variety of farm fresh goods.  We stocked up on breakfast necessaries (croissants, juice, yogurt and a melange of strawberries, blackberries, raspberries and blueberries) and yummies for lunch (lemonade, a long and broad fresh bread called le Parisien, pate compagne (aka country pate), goat cheese and proscuitto).
Montreal	Chinatown - This little gem south of Rue Rene-Levesque offers authentic Chinese dining and good buys on Chinese goods such as soup bowls and bracelets.    We had an excellent dinner at a fair price at Maison Kam Fung, found on the 2nd story of an office building on St. Urbain.  Highlights of the dinner included copious portions of a fine wonton soup, steamed shrimp dumplings and a wonderful dish of the tender white fish grouper, accompanied by lightly steamed green beans and carrots.
Montreal	Beauty's - Ah, it is so good when reality exceeds memory.  On an early visit to the city, a friend took me to this classic eatery just to the east of Parc Mont Royal.  Beauty's offers all of the essentials of breakfast in a small room replete with booths and a soda fountain bar for informal eating.  Our slender, dark haired waitress greeted us with friendly words and quickly supplied us with coffee, juice and hot chocolate.  Our eyes were drawn immediately to the Beauty's special, except for my youngest, who wanted the chocolate pancakes.  About ten minutes later, the special arrived:  a toasted bagel brimming over with freshly whipped cream cheese, and layers of salmon lox, lettuce, red onion, tomatoes and capers.  Our waitress supplied extra napkins, saying it was difficult to eat graciously when eating the special.   She was absolutely right -- we all needed our utensils to down this bit of heaven.  Our waitress kept us supplied with hot cups of coffee.  We walked away with full stomachs and a fine end to our Montreal trip.
Burlington	Downtown - We arrived in Burlington on our way home, just to stop for lunch.  On this warm summer day, the town was very busy.   We walked through an outdoor farmer's market on the town green, vowing to come back, then continued to Church Street.   This street is set up as a pedestrian mall, and is loaded with shops and open air cafe's, with the usual sideshows of street jugglers and busker musicians.  My oldest quickly made an allusion to the energy of Quebec City, which seemed to fit.   We walked about and found the cafe seats were full even at 2:00 pm.   We finally settled in at a place called Ken's pizza, but were able to order a variety of goodies including a lobster roll (pour moi), pastrami sandwiches and, of course, pizza.  Our waitress was friendly and quick to share her thoughts on the town.  She is a student at the University of Vermont and clearly loves the city and the school.  The farmer's market had been put away by the time we returned to the green, but we went on to view the waterfront and drive about the campus of UVM.  Summer in the city along Lake Champlain -- it doesn't get much better than this.
Vermont	Rest Areas - Vermont wins plaudits for its rest areas on the highways.   The attendants were friendly, the Green Mountain coffee was free and so was the WiFi.

Dining Contrasts: Montreal and Quebec City

I'm winding up a trip en famille to the two largest French cities in North America, Montreal and Quebec City.  I've been to both cities before, but this was the first time I brought my family along.   

The biggest challenge was to attempt to balance the needs of four different people.  I love walking around in cities, but my family has less interest in that than I do.   I like French cuisine and usually can strike a good balance between quality and price. It was much more difficult this time than ever before, thanks to the weak US dollar.  So, we made compromises.  

As it turns out, we had four outstanding dinners.  Three were in Quebec City and one was in the Chinatown of Montreal.  I'm not really surprised about this, since I have always found wonderful food in Quebec City and we managed to do so even when we watched our expenses.  By contrast, Montreal is much broader in scope and has a much wider range of dining possibilities.   I've had spectacular food in Montreal on past visits, but have also had mediocre dinners.   We did okay on this visit to Montreal, but we were definitely alert to the high costs of dinner in Canada and stayed away from the high end places.   

It turned out that Chinatown in Montreal hit all of the right notes.  On this trip, I relied a lot on Google to get both dinner possibilities and advance reviews.  This was a big help.  For example, I'd eaten well in Montreal's Chinatown before, but it had been a long time ago and I really had no idea what restaurants to pick.  Enter Google.  I simply went to Google, entered the words Montreal Chinatown Restaurants and up popped a few reasonable possibilities.   We ended up at Maison Kam Fung.  It was on the second floor of a business building, so the restaurant itself was a bit hard to find.  Happily, we eventually found the magic escalator that took us to the proper floor, unlike the elevator, which was closed for the night.   

The food there was excellent.   The menu offered all kinds of choices, so we settled on a group portion of wonton soup, steamed shrimp dumplings, spring rolls and two main dishes.   We had a bit of a wait for the soup, but is was worth it.  The soup was hot and very tasty, with plenty of wonton to go around.   The shrimp dumplings were equally good, though we were surprised they came without a sauce.  No problem, we simply used the sweet and tart sauce that came with the spring rolls to complement the delicate dumplings.   A little later, the main dishes arrived: grouper with fresh vegetables and orange chicken.   I was personally more partial to the grouper, which was light to the touch and accompanied by the best tasting green beans I can recall, prepared in a way which kept them bright green and firm for eating.  Yum.  This meal cost less than any dinner on the trip, but really worked for us.   

By contrast, in Quebec City, we had three multiple course meals.  Each meal was a total experience.   We were served one course at a time and each one had its time.   This was particularly true of the restaurant Verla, which was promoted as being value-priced Italian, but turned out to be much higher end in all respects.  We had an incredible dining experience, but it included a full two and one half hours devoted to the dinner and up to 30 minutes between courses.  Everyone except my youngest son loved this place, but it was off the charts when we totalled up the bill.   Still, our experience there symbolized the difference between the Quebec City and Montreal dining experiences.  In Quebec City, dining is a passion.  In its ideal form, you will sit down for up to three hours and have time to savor each course, while taking the time to enjoy a full bottle of wine.   

In Montreal, there is a lot more going on.  So dining is just one of the things to do and much less time seems to be devoted to it.  As indicated by our Chinatown experience, it can still be marvelous, but the diner needs to be more careful in their selections and perhaps have lesser expectations.  I love both places and now have had a chance to share both of them with my family, but the cities are very different experiences.   

Do you want to enjoy a taste of Europe in North America and to bring home dining experiences to savor? Please, head off to Quebec City and enjoy the intimate experience offered by this special ville.   But for the more cosmopolitan experience with many more things to do, head to Montreal, another unique city on the water.   Either choice is a good one, but you'll have dramatically different experiences based on which city you choose.