Chatting Up Chatham

Sunrise in Chatham

We usually go to Maine in the summer. No, we always go to Maine. The Warren roots there are deeper than the bottom feeders on the ocean floor. 

But this summer my son, who lives in Berkeley, was attending a wedding in Wellfleet on the Cape. So for convenience we rented a house in nearby Chatham, and my older son, who also lives in Berkeley joined us. Full family of four fiesta! 

Franky, age 2 and a half

 

We have been taking the boys to Maine since they were babies, and they quickly developed a taste for lobster. We told them they had to, or they could no longer be part of our family. We spent a week in Maine when they were 5 and 2 and a half and according to my journal we had lobster 6 out of 7 nights. “They love lobster. Peter likes the body meat. Franky likes the tail.” That’s the way we used to roll, or lobster roll. 

But now my sons are vegetarian. 

New England restaurants with names like The Captain's Table, or the Impudent Oyster do not cater to vegetarians. They had to ask for several adjustments to the menu throughout the week. Like a BLT without the B. Or sausage gnocchi without the sausage. We had the wait staff picking so much meat out of our orders that they may as well have been shelling lobster. 

We were dubious about Cape Cod as opposed to Maine. So we set out to answer the questions, Why isn't Cape Cod as good as Maine? Or, Why is Maine better than Cape Cod? 

Upside down house

We rented a house from Pretty Picky Properties. Yes, the real name. I was tired of searching on VRBO and Airbnb for residential properties, full of personal chotskies. Instead I found a pure rental property. Not Auntie Margaret’s ancestral home. Not “the house that’s been in our family for generations but a couple of weeks a year we rent it to losers like you.” So the house felt like a long-stay hotel freshly painted, clean, spacious, and well maintained, but without a drop of personality. 

The other problem was that the house was upside down. The kitchen, dining room and family room were on the second floor. Two of the three bedrooms were on the first floor. We often wondered where we were. Wait, I have to go upstairs to get coffee?

Ridgevale Beach

But the house's primary attraction was the location-- a 5-minute walk to the beach. You could pop up in the morning and walk to Ridgevale Beach on the Nantucket Sound for sunrise and watch seagulls slicing across the sky like javelins. The weather was perfect all week. 

Nauset Light Beach

After picking up Franky in Wellfleet, we stopped at Nauset Light Beach, part of the Cape Cod National Seashore. Straight-up roaring Atlantic ocean for 40 protected miles.

Seal with a blubber bite

The Monomoy Island Excursion Seal Cruise took us to a sand bar with hundreds of seals lounging in the sun. The skipper and his matey taught us some fun seal facts—they have to eat 10 to 15 pounds a day; some of them had visible scars from the great white shark who also likes summering in Cape Cod. The seal survives a brush with a shark because it has three inches of blubber fat to bite through. Sometimes Jaws just doesn’t have the time or energy. 

Monomoy Island has 30,000-50,000 gray seals

 Did I tell you the weather was perfect? 

After the cruise we were as hungry as seals, so we went to lunch at nearby Brax Landing overlooking the harbor from which we had overlooked the shore. There we learned that you can’t carry a yeti bottle into a bar. (A Yeti walks into a bar...) My son was carrying one full of water, but the hostess told us that some rascals fill their Yeti's with booze and then blame the restaurant for their subsequent drunk driving offenses. 

Striped and seaworthy

They don't make it easy to find The Morris Island Loop part of the Monomoy National Wildlife Reserve. Its trailhead is inside a gated community with a private sign at its entrance. Locals assured us these signs were “misleading” and that the public has full access. 

Provincetown

We made a day trip to Provincetown! It’s amusing and it’s loud and there are good vibes all day long. Clothing and art shops managed by attentive and humorous gay men, alongside live cabaret shows and sex shops. In other words, it’s as great as everyone says it is. 

Fiddler Crab

We went to the Mass Audubon Wellfleet Bay Wildlife Sanctuary. Five trails lead you through panoramic salt marshes, and sea grass, and tidal pools. Despite the Audubon name, we saw no birds of note, but we spent a long time watching fiddler crabs pop up and down out of the sand. They are damn weird looking with their disproportionately large claw. They look like pitchers with lopsided sized arms. 

Denny on "his" beach in Wellfleet

We visited our friends Denny and Sandy who had rented a spectacular house in Wellfleet, atop a bluff overlooking a very angry Atlantic Ocean, throwing its weight around with huge surf. 

Italian Wedding Cake at Bucas'

Our favorite restaurant was Bucas' Tuscan Roadhouse in Harwich.  It is dark and cozy and friendly, and we were swept into a food coma on clouds of creamy goat cheese, hot crusty bread, nutty pesto, and bruschetta. We went back for more two nights later. 

Wild Goose Tavern

Best strawberry rhubarb pie: Marion's Pie Shop. Best ice cream: Schoolhouse Ice Cream.  The portions are so large it's like getting served by the cafeteria lady who likes you best. Best brunch: Liz's Café in Provincetown, good lunches at the Blue Willow in Wellfleet, and the Wild Goose Tavern in Chatham. 

Franky told Siri to take us out for the nicest breakfast on the Cape on our way to the airport, and she/he/it decided on Will & Co. Cafe in Plymouth. Best coffee: bottomless cups of Witches Brew, a dark roast. We reviewed the week and came back to the original question about Maine vs Cape Cod. Admittedly Cape Cod has many of the same charms as Maine. But we agreed that Maine is cozier, homier, more down to earth, less crowed, and more welcoming (well, a little). 

 But the number one reason Cape Cod is not as good as Maine is because Cape Cod is not Maine. 

 But thanks Cape Cod, we had a great time!

Sunset in Chatham

Pitt Stop

Pittsburgh bridges

Pittsburgh suffers from a lack of awareness (Where? Pittsburgh?) and appreciation (Why would I want to go there? Isn't it all polluted?) But I found it to be a charming city with distinctive good looks, 436 bridges, three mighty rivers, and pierogis (also spelled pirogue, and perogie). C’mon, give it a try. 

We had two goals, we would see the Andy Warhol Museum on Tuesday, and Fallingwater, the Frank Lloyd Wright house, on the way home Wednesday. But the Warhol museum is closed Tuesdays; and Fallingwater is closed Wednesdays. If you decide to take a Pittsburgh jaunt, plan accordingly. 

Grandview Park

We started at the top. We drove to Grandview Park on Mt. Washington  which, as advertised, has a grand view. 

The Steel Mill Saloon

We had lunch at The Steel Mill Saloon which initially felt unwelcoming, we were greeted by a bartender with neck tattoos, serving a solitary drinker. We asked cautiously if they served food, and she said yes. Suddenly the place came alive, a cute waitress brought us a menu that would please any millennial, and the place filled up with diners. Regional favorites included the Mill Worker burger, a Bavarian Pretzel, and Buffalo Pirouges. 

The Duquesne Incline

Riding in comfort on funicular built in 1877

For someone who is reluctant to take carnival rides,  I don't know why I was so eager to jump on the 147-year-old Duquesne Incline.  But what a view!

PNC Park home of the Pirates

Sports venues reign supreme in Pittsburgh and warrant prime property. Both PNC Park and Heinz Field, (I mean Acrisure Stadium) adorn the riverfront. There was a local man on our funicular who instructed his out-of-town visitors never to call it anything but Heinz Field. 

 Confluence point of Monongahela, Allegheny, and Ohio rivers

Pamela's Diner

Wednesday morning we met Peter and Nila at Pamela’s Diner “best breakfast in the burgh since 1980.” (Is that supposed to sound old?) We had specialty hotcakes-crepe style. They may have been thin but they were huge. And stuffed with either strawberries, blueberries, or bananas, or, if you wanted to break bad, bananas and chocolate chips. 

Peter and friend at Grandpa Joe's Candy Shop

After breakfast we wandered around the neighborhood known as the Strip District, where ethnic grocery stores are taken very seriously. We loved and lingered in Reyna Foods a Mexican food market with small trash cans stuffed to the brim with dozens of kinds of dried chiles; every hot sauce in the world; and every Goya product. Just across the street, the S and D Polish Deli features goodis from Poland, including  sauerkraut and beets. You could also buy everything ever made in black and gold at Yinzers in the Burgh. 

Andy Warhol Museum, Kaws + Warhol show

Darr and I went to the Andy Warhol Museum. The miniseries The Andy Warhol Diaries sparked my interest in Andy.  His famous paintings and friends were all on display in the  largest single artist museum in North America.  The Pittsburgh Andy Warhol grew up in was sooty and dark. During World War II,  Pennsylvania produced more steel than all of the Axis forces combined. There was so much smoke in the air that it looked like midnight at noon. 

But now, no doubt with the help of Andy’s famous Brillo Pads (Shines Aluminum Fast!)  Pittsburgh is  sparkling and bright and worth a visit. 

Bon Voyage to Nila and Peter, moving to San Francisco

Celebrating a Big One in the Big Easy

Monteleone Hotel

Darr celebrated a big birthday last month. I will give you a hint. The number starts with an “s.” That’s right, sixteen! He was crystal and crescent city clear about where he wanted to spend that birthday--New Orleans. I asked what we would do there and he said "eat." We ate and we walked and we took streetcars, and saw parks and cemeteries and giant oak trees. 

Carousel Bar

We stayed in an oasis of peace and quiet that I never knew existed in the French Quarter, the Monteleone Hotel. It was lux and deluxe with fantastic service. There was little sense from our room that there was barfing on Bourbon Street and that there were beads in the trees. The hotel has the Carousel Bar which spins around slowly while you drink. Darr had a concoction of five shots (bourbon, rye, cognac, liqueur, and bitters) called Le Vieux Carré, which means the old square. I told him he was a vieux carré. We went around five times and at the end a man told us he hopes we feel as good as we look. 

Commander's Palace

Commander’s Palace commands your respect and your attention, they call, text, and email to confirm that you are coming. As we walked in the hostess asked whose birthday it was and took us to a designated table with balloons. We had oysters and shrimp and sausage and an amazing bread pudding souffle and Darr was presented with a funny hat. 

Despite having been to New Orleans several times for conventions, a Super Bowl, and a Jazz Fest, I realized that I had seen only about one quarter of it. Yes, that quarter. We got on streetcar on St. Charles and saw stately houses in the Garden District.  

Live Oak Tree, Tulane

We had barely started our walk around Tulane University when we encountered a full production of The Tempest. The sky turned black, we sheltered under an overhang while jolted by enormous cracks of thunder and lightning strikes only a few hundred feet away. Tulane was empty, but the buildings were  open, so we made a lily pad hop from one to another before safely arriving in the main office where we were awarded with a Tulane umbrella. 

Audubon Aquarium

We were already wet, so we continued the aquatic theme indoors at to the Audubon Aquarium. There we visited the few surviving fish not being served that night in a restaurant. 

We had planned to go to one of Darr's favorites, Mosca's, an Italian restaurant that Calvin Trillin raved about in the New Yorker in 2010.  But it's a half hour drive, and after surviving the tempest it seemed too much trouble, so we walked over to Tujagues, the second oldest restaurant in New Orleans. I think it's feeling its age. The hostess was wearing a basketball referee’s shirt and the dining room was separated from the bar by a dreary curtain. None of this detracted from the delicious meal though, wedge salad, Oysters Decatur and Gulf Fish Almondine. 

Katrina Memorial

Above ground burial

The next day we took the Canal Street streetcar to see the Katrina Memorial and found ourselves walking through a death row of sorts, blocks and blocks of cemeteries with their weird above-ground tombstones.

Then on to the very alive, gorgeous sprawling New Orleans City Park dense with some of the city's oldest live oak trees whose branches reach the ground to surround and protect the visitor. We sucked down a frozen café au lait at the park's well located Café Du Monde and then went to the New Orleans Museum of Art. My favorite exhibit was America, a life-sized golden log cabin stuffed with representations of capitalism—coal, bullets, arrowheads, cotton balls, all painted in brash gold resin. 

New Orleans City Park

Birthday dinner at the Palace Café, surpassed all others. Darr had the famous crabmeat cheesecake, and broiled oysters. I had Andouille Crusted Fish doused in butter and Crystal Hot Sauce. 

 

Brennan's birthday treat

We had our post-birthday brunch at the elegant Brennan’s where even nine-year-olds wear seersucker suits. Darr had a crawdish quiche, I got the famous eggs Benedict, perfectly crisp potatoes, buttermilk biscuits to die for. And although we were too full to order dessert, the waiter brought Darr a huge pink cotton candy confection that looked like a Marge Simpson wig, concealing a piece of birthday cake and ice cream. And he got a Brennan’s apron. 

Second line band, outside St. Louis Cathedral

Did we go out to see music? No, but did we go out and see music? Yes. During an average stroll through the French Quarter there are any number of street musicians, and live bands, "playing real good for free,"as Joni Mitchell said.

Postscript My first visit to New Orleans was in 1988 to meet Darr on assignment at Jazz Fest. We ate at K Paul’s Louisiana Kitchen, now closed, where they stuck stars on your forehead based on how well you ate. We also went to Lafitte's Blacksmith's Shop Bar, established in 1700 featuring, I wrote, a pianist named Lilly who was 80 trying to look 50. You could make a song request but Lilly would ignore it and play whatever she wanted to." We celebrity spotted Paul Simon, and later David Byrne (wearing a cowboy belt that said Larry). I told Darr a friend said she hates New Orleans because it is "hot, dirty, cheap, and decadent." Darr breathed in the dubious foul smelling air on Bourbon Street, and said "Ah yes! It is all this and more." 

What a perfect spot for a "big birthday."

À tout à l'heure, New Orleans

Crossing the Seas and Dotting the I's

Land ho! Brooklyn Cruise Terminal with Sarah Swift. 

I had to fly to England to get back to America. I was joining a group of writers on a transatlantic crossing on the Queen Mary 2.  The Craft and Publishing Voyage workshop, called “Rebirthing Your Book” probably should have been called “Reberthing Your Book.” Or “Rebooking Your Birth,” for those of us who are memoirists. 

London

View from Royal Lancaster 

I first spent a few nights in London with my friend Susan who moved to England five years ago. We stayed at the Royal Lancaster just steps from Hyde Park. Susan had asked for a room with two beds,  which translated to two singles pushed together with just an inch in between. We were cozy. 

Our room had a large window with a view as far as the London Eye can see, and I could see the London Eye. The window had electric blinds, allowing us to produce instant night or day. The street view replaced the Weather Channel;  we could read the forecast by the presence of wellies, brellies, and hoodies

Susan is an excellent navigator who got us all over London using Google Maps. The first time Google Maps tells me I am going in the wrong direction, I want to throw the phone on the ground. But Susan has mastered it. She is married to a pilot, so her skills in this regard are critical. 

Nothing says America like snack food, and apparently The British are a snack-deprived nation. Susan requested that I import an extra-large bag of Stacy’s Pita Chips, and Trader Joe’s Ginger Snaps for her stepdaughter Helen. I carefully stowed these goods in the overhead compartment so they wouldn’t arrive in a thousand little pieces. We met Helen at a shilling-sized bakery called Fabrique in Notting Hill. She acted as if I had given her a bag of gold. I asked what the neighborhood was famous for and she said the movie Notting Hill.

When we got to Marylebone I knew it was famous for something even if there wasn't a movie about it. Because everything in London is famous. Marylebone is where Charles Dickens and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle grew up and where Sherlock Holmes "lived" on Baker Street. It's also where John wrote "I Want to Hold Your Hand" and Paul dreamed up "Yesterday" while staying with Jane Asher's family.  

We had a quick lunch at Nathalie, spare, bare, and bougie. Salmon and quinoa, way too healthy for me. 

High tea at the Wolseley

But clotted cream and clogged arteries were coming up. We enjoyed high tea, high ceilings, and high spirits at The Wolseley in Mayfair. A triple decker tower of food arrived. We started with our dainty tea sandwiches, egg salad, salmon, and Coronation chicken salad. Then we threw reserve aside and each ate two supreme scones doused in clotted cream and strawberry jam followed by eight lovely desserts. What were we thinking? That we would never eat again.

But we had to have a Greek salad around 11 p.m.

We went that night to see Six at The Vaudeville Theater, built in 1870 to accommodate tinier people who could fit in little seats with narrow aisles. Six is a pop concert musical about the six wives of Henry the Eighth, and the theater was only a few minutes away from decapitation central, the Tower of London. The play was cheery and fun and bright, and mercifully over in 90 minutes. 

Wimbledon

The next day we went to the All England Lawn Tennis & Croquet Club, home of the Wimbledon Tennis Championships since 1877. And every blade of grass was perfect. The tour guide was also sharp as a blade. She confirmed that the requirement to wear white is to hide the sweat, on the Queen's behalf, but she called it "perspiration." She showed us Court One and Center Court, Henman Hill, the BBC Media Center and told us about the warren of underground tunnels that the tennis players use to reach the courts. We learned that Wimbledon goes through 1.9 million strawberries (38 tons) and 54,000 tennis balls each season. Ball boys and girls have to go through 4 weeks of rigorous training and are favored for their ability to remain expressionless during matches.

The Queen Mary 2

View One

View Two

View Three

I joined our writers’ group on a jolly van ride to the port city of Southampton. We were laughing about the fact that our colorful travel agent had told us to dress on the ship like the woman in the Viagra commercial. When we stopped in Winchester for tea we saw two crows in what appeared to be a sexual frenzy in the road.  In a Keystone Kops arrival in Southampton, the van drove us to the wrong dock three times. We grew increasingly alarmed as we pulled up to cruise ships that looked like waterborne skyscrapers, and were relieved to arrive at our ship, the elegant, streamlined Queen Mary 2, as restrained and reserved as a queen herself. 

My stateroom

I had a king stateroom with a balcony for the view, but soon realized the picture out my window was always the same, like a movie on a loop. Mostly blue, sometimes gray, white with “swells” (nautical euphemism for huge waves). The sea is all you see, nary a bird nor a land mass. For ocean lovers, the crossing is your chance for oneness with the sea, for days you are in it, on it, of it. 

Workshop leader Allison Williams and Captain Andrew Hall

                                                        (courtesy writers' group)

I found Captain Andrew Hall's daily updates soothing. In his calm British manner he told us where we had been and where we were going. I was glad he knew. He taught us that the crossing, despite its name does not cross the ocean in a straight line, rather in a “great circle” since the circumference is the shortest distance between two points. He ended each update with a non-nautical joke. “If at first you don’t succeed, don’t try skydiving.” Or “Insanity is hereditary, you get it from your children.” 

The Brittania Dining Room (courtesy writers' group)

Things to know: We were all confused about the time of day. If you think daylight savings time is annoying, try changing the clocks 5 times in 6 nights. But I loved telling people I was on “Nuuk” and “Grytviken” time. Despite this, the gentle rocking motion of the boat is excellent for sleep. I hope the Sealy Perfect Sleeper Mattress will develop a rock-a-bye-baby setting. 

Fellow writers at the Black and White Gala

The ship offers continuous activities from 6:30 a.m. to 12:30 a.m., bridge or watercolor lessons, trivia contests, a casino, a spa, a pickleball court, live music. But we writers had our dance cards filled. We spent most of the day in windowless rooms learning about everything from punctuation to publication. There were 28 women and two men in the group and assorted plus ones. We dined together for a four course, if not four star dinner, in the Brittania room. Writers are good dinner companions. Our conversations were rich with storytelling and devoid of grammatical errors. 

Our teachers (l to r) Amy, Dinty, Allison, Jane

I ran into dear friends Porter and Matt on the ship!

Game tables with a view

They say a transatlantic crossing is life changing. It was for me.  If my paternal ancestors the Goldbergs hadn’t crossed from Ukraine in 1891, and if the Foleys hadn’t crossed from Ireland in 1912, where would I be? I would not be.  And maybe the grandparents did not travel with turn down, and  24-hour room service, but we all ended up in the same place.  Thank God.

Approaching land (courtesy writer's group)

Goosebump-producing Statue of Liberty (courtesy writers' group) 

A note of gratitude to the organizers of the Craft and PublishingVoyage and to all the inspirational writers I met along the way.