The End of Summer: Porto Pizza

When our ferry back broke down, we were left with unenviable task of needing to find lunch.  We found it at nearby Porto Pizza, a pizza-by-the-slice pizzeria directly across from the ferry.  Everyone ordered something different.  I enjoyed the deep dish tomato and bacon, my wife, the pesto, and my oldest a pepperoni.  We topped it all off with a cup of Del's frozen lemonade.

It's hard to really screw up pizza and this was no exception.  I enjoyed the pizza for the most part, though when I get a deep dish pizza I want  it to be deep.  My slice felt more like a regular depth than anything else. The toppings felt fresh enough and the crust was a good mix of crunchy and doughy, but nothing too exceptional.  An altogether OK way to end the trip.

The pepperoni was rated "Good"

Shock Top Pumpkin Wheat beer

As part of any fall celebration comes seasonal foods. And what's more seasonal now than pumpkin? And what's more fun to review than beer?

Pumpkin beer tasting dates back to more than 6 years ago when, on a trip to Salem, my future wife and I ordered a pumpkin beer. She was blown away by the flavor and, since then, doesn't miss a chance to order one. In honor of her preference and the onrushing Fall-ellujah tour, I figured why not document the currently available pumpkin brews?

Shock Top Pumpkin Wheat was actually our third such purchase, though the first that I've written up for the site. I've been a big fan of Shock Top beer for some time and was very excited to give this a try...and then I wasn't.

Though the beer itself is fine, it contains a very weak pumpkin flavor, more an afterthought than a main ingredient. Kind of like when someone offers you a refreshing lime seltzer and you get excited that you're about to imbibe something akin to Sprite, but, no, it's just seltzer and, oh yeah, a whiff of lime.

The beer itself has a nice, clean taste though is a bit darker than some of the other Shock Top wheats I've had. It wasn't bad but failed to capture a fall memory, i.e., OK.

The End of Summer: Black Dog Part Deux

And we came back for breakfast! The Black Dog actually has two locations and when our original breakfast choices were closed, we decided to check out the other.  Now, I'm a HUGE breakfast aficionado so when I saw our options being pretty limited to bagels and breakfast pastries, I was a little disappointed.  No omelets, no buy!

But, surprise, surprise when my bagel sandwich utterly blew my mind with its high quality.  Though just two fried eggs, swiss cheese, and bacon on an everything bagel, these items combined Voltron-like to perform possibly the  greatest bagel sandwich in the universe.  And since I'm too weak for regular coffee, I enjoyed a delightful caramel latte, pinky fully extended.  

My son enjoyed smashing the crap out of his corn muffin.  

With humble origins comes this Amazing breakfast for the whole family.

The End of Summer: The Black Dog

Might I be one of the special breed of people who have been to the Black Dog restaurant? Long (incorrectly?) perceived as a status symbol akin to driving a sports car, the ubiquitous Black Dog shirts that my friends at school wore spoke to me of the far off land of Martha's Vineyard, a summer place where only the richest of us could go.  And, finally, this hoi polloi received the golden ticket and was able to dine at the mythical establishment.  Following our trip, my kids both have Black Dog shirts meaning that, someday, my family will be mistaken for wealthy people and spit upon by the unwashed masses.  Go ahead, 99%; I savor every bit of your misdirected hatred!

I started the meal with a bang, ordering the Black Dog sangria followed by the Hungarian mushroom soup and the lobster roll.  Lobster may not be my favorite, but I wanted to look both classy and have fries.

Ignore the vomit-look.

The Hungarian mushroom soup (named after the source of the paprika used in it) was a solid, creamy concoction with some nice big chunks of mushrooms.  I didn't taste the paprika so perhaps this soup only exists as a normal ol' mushroom soup.  But I'm a sucker for a fungi-related soup so I enjoyed it a lot.

Normally when I order something at a well-known restaurant, I expect to pay premium prices, assuming that the big bucks pay more for the name than the quality of the food.  But when I pay 25 bucks for a lobster roll that is hefted upon the table and has, literally, exploded the bun on which it sits, that's a freakin' value! I'm no seafood expert so I will intelligently refer to it as "lobstery" and "not too mayonaissey".  And it came with big honkin' fries and slaw! Combined together, my Black Dog experience rates a Really Good.

Happy Birthday, Lola!

Becoming a new tradition, our trip to Martha's Vineyard also commemorates when we remember my son's teddy bear, Lola's, birthday.  Not her actual birthday which I believe is in July but when we always remember that it has happened and should probably be celebrated.  Unlike last year we weren't able to fake out the waitress into believing that one of the paying customers had a birthday so we had to settle for special desserts instead.  My son wanted to eat chocolate cake but kindly asked for apple crisp since that's what Lola would want.  We reminded him she would want him to eat what he wanted and should have the cake; he took little convincing.

Happy birthday, Lola! You may be worn for an eight-year-old teddy bear but you are very loved.

The End of Summer: Flying Horses

As a HUUUUGE fan of the president I asked if we could go to Mad Martha's for ice cream. Everyone ordered something good. I prefer an ice cream drink and had a delightful tropical concoction. My kids also found something for their palates.

An entire cone! Great parenting, everyone.

M+M Cream!

Yes, I like pina coladas.

For some exercise, we wandered over to the Flying Horses, the oldest carousel in America. And despite being over 100 years old, they let me and my youngest ride! Now, Flying Horses holds the distinction of not only being old but of providing the rider with the chance to grab the brass ring for a free ride.  Since I was born before the Internet, I knew of carousels at some point in history having rings which riders could try to grab, ergo the saying "grab the brass ring".  This contraption was not at all as I thought it would be from TV shows.  Next to either side of the carousel were two thin channels for metal rings to roll down.  Rings were slightly larger than a half-dollar coin and could be grabbed by hooking a finger through them.

I didn't grab any since, being only 11-months-old, my son needed me to keep a hand on him the whole time. But when the announcement came over the PA, "The brass rings are out", I kept my eyes open, just in case. And as we came around the bend, there it was; the two people in front of us blew their chance and I went for it, bowling over my son in the process.  "Please don't shove your kid onto the ground," I thought.  Fortunately my son survived my mad grasp and we won a free ride.  I still have the ticket since my oldest refused to get on with me.  Guess I'll save it as my moment of triumph.

"Outta the way, baby!"

The End of Summer: Kite-tastrophy!

The spot on the picture is a ghost.  Or black hole.

For the 2nd year we attended the kite festival in Owen Park. My son was willing to try our fabulous frog kite for a few minutes, though was a bit freaked out by the unwinding spool.

I attempted to break my record for kite distance; it amazes me how high these things can get. Most kites I've flown on the mainland have crashed and burned, strange considering the non-combustible nature of their fuel source. But next to the ocean, the wind blows so strongly that kites fly with no effort.

Sadly, the wind blew in the direction of the sun and I had to abandon the effort before melting my retinas.

Pictured: new Robot kite, not superior to frog kite in anyway.

The day ended when my youngest decided that the spool of string was both his and the greatest toy of all time. Still, a fine end to a really good day.

The End of Summer: Martha's Vineyard

And so the summer ends with a trip to Martha's Vineyard. As a child I hated beaches and hated snobs. I still hate both but at least can appreciate a nice trip to a scenic New England landmark.

View from the back

We're waiting at the car ferry now with my oldest son about to go into a fit about his sudden need to pee when embarkation is imminent. Ah, children!