Food – robin maderich – write-brained scribbler and crafter-on-the-loose

Small Batch? Splendid!

Last weekend, my eldest son drove me around for some errand running. It was quite a bit past lunch time and we were contemplating whether we should stop and grab something or head home. Well, by chance (not really by chance, I insisted we head over that way) we pulled into the parking lot for Hometown Creamery over on Gravel Pike in East Greenville—Pennsylvania, for those who aren’t familiar. We’d both been talking about checking it out. Not a place for lunch, as far as I could tell, but, hey, you gotta live a little, right?

Egads, try live a lot, especially if you’re an ice cream lover.

In high anticipation, we exited my son’s vehicle and strode up to the front door of a building that has been many things over time, but which now houses, as the sign indicates, Hometown Creamery – Small Batch Ice Cream – Donuts – More. Like I said, not exactly a place for lunch. Definitely a place to satisfy a sweet tooth in the most wonderful way.

We paused beneath the green awning, glanced at the store hours, agreed we were skipping lunch after all and going straight to dessert, and went inside. Oh my. Oh, oh, oh my.

It’s a wide-open area upon entry (I believe all the seating is outside on park-type benches and an umbrellaed picnic table or two, but I may be mistaken—might have to go back again to check and, yeah, get some more ice cream) with a very friendly young woman directly ahead at the register. She instructed us with a smile to go to our left where we would await our turn to order. We happily complied, perusing the menu of delights with mouths open and an occasional swipe at drool.

I ended up after much indecision getting myself a fudge brownie with chocolate ice cream sundae, complete with whipped cream and maraschino cherries (I did say we hadn’t had lunch, didn’t I?) and my son had something called Tootie-Fruity with more words to follow. I can’t remember them right now. I have a feeling I was way too concerned with my own choice.

Unfortunately, I didn’t think to take this picture until I’d scarfed down a good bit of it!

Initially, and why I had delayed in trying out this wonderful new establishment, was a fear the ice cream would be stale. That happens sometimes in places where the flavors that don’t get eaten sit awhile. No such worries here. They mix their specialty ice creams in small batches, ensuring freshness every time. Add to that the wonderful creaminess, the sweetness, the OMG goodness and a rather old-time atmosphere, and, well, can you say ‘hooked’?

I’ll definitely be going back. In fact, once we’d finished our delectable, small-batch, ahem, lunches, I did return inside to take pictures for this blog. What I hadn’t noticed the first time around (due to my hyper-focus on the ice cream) was the long table covered with baskets of old-fashioned individual candies (nostalgia, anyone?) and the refrigerator filled with other dairy delights.

So, people, if you’re fans of ice cream, especially fans of the best darned small batch ice cream, head on over! It’s worth the trip, even if you’re not around the corner.

You can also check them out on their Facebook page (which I looked up) at: facebook.com/hometowncreamerypa

Happy eating!

Milkshakes & Memories

On the 2nd of June, I drove up to Secaucus, New Jersey, parked in the hot parking lot, and headed on over to the train station. I felt rather proud of my confidence as I purchased my round trip ticket to Penn Station, stood with the rest of the people waiting for the train, and boarded. When my purse got stuck in the closing door, I began to question my confidence and wondered, for the merest second, if the day was going to go downhill. Seemed silly to think so, especially with the day’s plan.

Despite the fact it was stinking hot out, the day did not go downhill. It went gloriously up in a trio of hours spent with cousins—female cousins who have been like sisters to me, and cousin to a cousin whom I hadn’t seen in forty-five years, an in-law-ish cousin (well, married to the brother of the cousin to the cousin…are you following that yet?), and one cousin’s granddaughter and another’s stepdaughter, at a wonderful brunch at a popular little restaurant in Manhattan called The Black Tap. The Black Tap is apparently famous for its milkshakes. Huge confections of ice cream, candy, brownies, cookies, sugary sweet cereal—whatever they can cram on top of the shake to make it unique, a kind of double-decker dessert. I’d like to say delicious, too, but I didn’t actually have one, as I opted for a plain ol’ chocolate shake. I guess I’m the non-adventurous type when it comes to my ice cream. Everyone who got one of the gigantic, coma-inducing shakes exclaimed over them. My chocolate shake was scrumptious enough on its own, even without all the added baked goods and candy.

The food was delicious as well, although no one finished their meals. You see, we had to get the shakes first, because this place is so well known and the shakes in such high demand, if we didn’t order (and receive) them before our meals, we might never have had the chance to get one (or something like that—it sort of made sense when we were told of the gastronomic pecking order). At any rate, it wasn’t the food or the shakes that made the day so special. It was the company.

Some of the female cousins and both my sisters-in-law were, lamentably, absent. But those of us who managed to get together had a lot of catching up to do. The noise in the restaurant sometimes made it difficult to hear, but expressions of amusement, happiness, astonishment, the occasional tear, made every conversational nuance easy to read. It was like lip-reading from the heart.

The conclusion of brunch came all too soon and we headed outside to go our separate ways. Even so, we spent another fifteen minutes airing our laundry in front of the crowd continuing to queue up to get into The Black Tap. Adding all our ages together, we go back to the Revolutionary War and beyond, which gives us a few bragging rights on this earth.

One cuz summed it all up as she and her cousins and granddaughter started their march down the block. “Cousins,” she cried out, with something suspiciously like a fist-pump, “are the best!”

Fenwick, Food and Family

Sunset on Fenwick Island, DE — Sunset at Fenwick Island the evening before I arrived–my brother Ron took this splendid photo

Stepping out onto the screened porch very early this morning, I gasped as my lungs sucked in the cloying atmosphere. Nevertheless, I closed the door to the air-conditioned house behind me and continued toward a chair. The moist carpet stuck to my bare feet when I crossed it and the freshly-applied lotion on my hands transformed to the tackiness of barely dried glue in the humid, sea air. I was a little surprised by the latter and kept pressing my fingers together and pulling them apart to make sure the sensation wasn’t a product of imagination.

For a full half hour, I sat listening to the gulls cackle like gentle lunatics while they swept across the sky above the rooftops in search of breakfast. A constant, soft breeze blew through the screens and into my hair in a way that made the heat seem non-existent, compelling me to linger. I watched white egrets take flight over the steel-gray water and the shifting sunlight turn shadowed marsh grass to gold. A fisherman’s small motor boat left a trail of white froth through the ripples in the water, but I heard no noise of his motor. Even traffic on the main road did nothing to disturb the peace, a kind of underscore to the hush, the muted sound resembling a distant river’s flow.

This was my morning as the sun rose over Fenwick Island in Delaware.

Fenwick Island Lighthouse which is only open from 9-noon, so if you want to see it, get up early (hint-hint)

I had already packed in preparation of returning home after a visit with both my brothers and sisters-in-law. In fact, we were all going home this day and the knowledge of that was bittersweet. The visit had been a short one, but family is family and when you’re together it often seems as if no time has passed since last you were in each other’s company. That means no barriers, no little courtesies, but an immediate dive right into the dynamics of the relationships that have always existed, representing at this time twenty-four boisterous, chest-beating, loving, tender, comical, occasionally frustrating but ever joyful hours. Oh, and there was a bit of sleep in there, too.

And food. We mustn’t forget that part of the gathering. Our half-baked plan of dinner out turned out to be an amazing experience. After discovering no place in the entirety of Fenwick Island existed at dinner time that was not packed to the gills, we ventured down the highway to Ocean City, Maryland, to a place that graciously accepted reservations. When we pulled up, the building resembled perhaps a family-style bar. The parking lot held some empty spaces. I thought: I’m starving, they probably serve passable dinners of some sort, and it’s already 8:00 p.m. I think we all had that idea.

Boy, were we wrong.

The Shark on the Harbor’s menu changes daily, we were told. They print it up each day because their food is procured fresh from local suppliers. The farms from which they get their vegetables and fruit, their fish, their beef and pork, are named in the menu. That’s only the start. They had three chefs on duty and every dish is prepared with an eclectic mix of ingredients and sauces that, in a sane world, one might never think would go well together. But once you enter Shark on the Harbor, you are not in a sane world—you’ve moved beyond the world to epicurean heaven.

Vegan Entree.Shark on the Harbor — Vegan Entrée – Portobello mushrooms, summer squash, arugula, tomatoes, butternut squash puree and blueberry sauce – superb!

We lingered over our meals and our equally delicious desserts with each one of us having a completely different item and all of them fabulous. Glutted and happy we made our way back to the house afterward and to our beds, forgetting in our sweet food-torpor that tomorrow we would rise and go home. But every day you wake is one to be grateful for, every day spent with family is a blessing (sometimes in disguise, but not this time), and a good meal with people you love is without equal.