My evening was just concluded by lazing in a gazebo, overlooking the Atlantic and breathing in the salty breeze. I’m in paradise, honestly.
The food isn’t too bad either.
As my sister isn’t joining us in Maine until Friday, we’ve decided to save our favorite restaurants for a bit later in the vacation. Tonight we chose one we hadn’t visited in several years: Gypsy Sweethearts, or as I disaffectionately used to call it, “The No Chocolate Milk Place” (said with sad eyes and a frown).
Throughout my difficult, picky-eating childhood phase, I judged restaurants on two elements: the quality of their pasta with melted butter and the strength of their chocolate milk. Butter that was cold? Thumbs down. Skimping on the chocolate milk? Not a good sign. No chocolate milk? Well, those were grounds for disaster.
Gypsy Sweethearts was one such disastrous restaurant. However, since my palate has expanded just a bit, it seemed a good choice to begin our week of dining.
Of course, we opened the meal with wine:
This was Bruno pinot noir, and I found it just ok; strong but not spicy, nothing particularly overwhelming. That would actually be a good way to describe the meal itself – good, but not tremendous in excitement.
I started with a baby spinach, pumpkin seed, and manchego salad, and I was a failing food blogger and forgot to snap a photo before digging in:
My mom and I decided to share two entrees, as we were both struggling to choose between them.
Sea scallops in a citrus vinaigrette, over field greens, with a side of lusciously sweet yams.
And grilled portobello mushrooms, with Swiss chard, roasted peppers, polenta, and shaved parmesan.
The dessert menu didn’t particularly engage any of us, so we skipped it in favor of this:
Ice cream, Maine, and vacation are basically synonymous to me.
This was a whole bunch of strawberry banana ice cream, and I cleaned the bowl. I really don’t believe that moderation and vacation belong in the same sentence.
What about you? Do you keep yourself in check on vacation?