It is a Thursday evening, the tail-end of a warm fall day, and I’m looking down the short barrel of our last weekend at the cafe. From my second-story perch in the office, I can see the road where the neighbor kids are setting off firecrackers, and the bird researchers have just jogged by winding up an early-evening run.
As I stand on the edge of September, already trying to psyche myself up for the dive into the chilly waters of fall, summer seems a blur. After reading the article on BDC in Gourmet’s June issue, a kind Portland chef emailed a congratulatory warning: “Get ready for an unbelievable summer.” At the time I thought that a sentence like that, it could mean so many things, and so I only half believed it. Perhaps he meant to be ambiguous. I don’t know. But I think of his note now, and well, realize it could have only meant one thing.
I regret that by mid-August I’m fairly cranky, and so thankful for Amy and Steve taking over the cafe this season. It’s only exhaustion that makes me that way, and my failure to fully heed the warnings of more experienced persons regarding a sure up-tick in business. All in all, I think we managed fairly well to navigate the unpredictable waters of such a strange summer.
I’ll hit the highlights:
June brought the wettest month on record in Maine. It was downright depressing, and as the rain carried right into July I began praying fervently for summer to just end, just to get it over with. I mean why did we suffer through winter for this misery? The answer to that question came in September as I was catching up with the bookkeeping: June’s crappy weather translated into a month of record-breaking chocolate sales.
At 3:00 am on July 2nd, after a terrifying night of torrential rain and violent thunderstorms that kept most of Maine up until well past midnight, phones began ringing in houses all around the island. Just north of the Town Hall, and next door to the island’s one-room school, a house was burning. To make a long, sad story short, the (as of yet to be inhabited, thank god) summer home burned beyond saving that morning. I won’t belabor all the things that suck about someone’s house burning down. I’m sure you can imagine these all on your own. And while I don’t mean to make light of a crappy situation, I will say that some good–big and small– came of the event. One very small good thing was a new recipe. Check out the Fire Brigade Biscuit Rolls in the Recipes section.
The beginning of August brought a visit from Martha Stewart Living, which shot a story on our chocolates that we’ve been told will run in the magazine’s February issue. That was weird and exciting and managed to turn my stomach in knots for a solid week. But Craft editor Hannah Milman was gracious and enthusiastic and quirky all at once, which combined to put us at ease for a shoot that I think went pretty well considering our hectic summer schedules and my aforementioned August crankiness. Jason Fulford, the photographer, was kind and professional and likeably odd in that artsy kind of way. I was later blown away by his website. Check it out at: www.jasonfulford.com.
August and September brought crates upon crates of raspberries, strawberries and blueberries for our Farm Market Collection. Our Head Harbor friends supplied us with all the fresh currants we could possibly want, which, in turn, appeared in cafe scones and a very special Blackcurrant and Bittersweet Chocolate Cordial for a custom order in mid August. August also brought the welcome addition of Louise, and her many culinary and aesthetic talents, to the BDC kitchen.
While I welcome a respite from rising at 4:30 every morning and the summer’s 18-hour workdays, it is with a twinge of sadness that I feel the season pass. Most of the summer people, some who have become, at the very least, enthusiastic supporters of our venture, and in some cases, good friends, are now gone; returned to their permanent homes in Massachusetts, New York, New Hampshire, Connecticut, Washington DC, Philadelphia, Indiana, Colorado, California, and others.
And winter is coming. An early frost the other morning was a healthy reminder that wood still needs to be split and the house banked. And while we prepare ourselves for the cold and the dark and the flurry of business that November and December bring, we still have fall. And some time to enjoy it.
