Dr. Steaklove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Charcuterie

 This weekend, Tori expressed her concern that we had not updated our blog in two weeks. Apparently our life in Vermont is some kind of reality show, and you, our loyal "viewers," have had to wait an extra week for a new episode. For that, we apologize. I know our cliffhanger episode two weeks prior was on par with Who Shot J.R.?* and you've been dying to see what happens next. Well, I'd hate to keep our loyal fans waiting any longer, so today, I bring to you a very special "bottle episode," as it's known in the television world. Tori is at work at the UVM bookstore, and I have the day off. This post is all about what's been going on with me, for those very few readers (Hi, Mom!) who care to know. Tori will return next week to tell you all about her first week of graduate school at UVM, but until then, we need to talk about Clinton.

 

I'd like to introduce special guest star Matthew Baird. Some of you might remember him from such things as Rockwell City-Lytton Class of 2003 or the Ames Walnut House. Others may know him as the bald groomsmen at our wedding. Most of you probably have no idea who he is. Well, he is one of my oldest and best friends who now lives in Alexandria, VA, and is a firefighter for the Washington, DC F.E.M.S. On the weekend of August 16, he drove up from Virginia with his girlfriend Jen to spend a few days with us in Burlington. It just also happened to be the Lake Champlain Maritime Festival. There was no shortage of things to do. Friday night, we introduced Matt and his fabulous new girlfriend to Downtown Burlington. We had dinner at the Irish pub Ri Ra, watched some great (and not so great) karaoke at a dive bar on Main Street, and ended the night at a 1990's-themed dance party at Nectar's. I won't lie, there were cocktails consumed, two or three, actually. But it was the first time we had guests here in Vermont, and we wanted to show them a good time!

 

Saturday morning we took them to Church Street for brunch at Leunig's Bistro (oh la la!) where we drank bloody marys and mimosas. I ordered the Chicken Fried Steak Poutine, which is fried potatoes smothered in Vermont cheddar cheese, chicken fried steak, and sausage gravy. I should note that the men in my family have a history of heart problems, so I will probably never order it again. That said, it was pretty, pretty good. After that we took our guests to the Burlington Farmers' Market, where they purchased maple syrup, among other maple-themed Vermont souvenirs. I think mustard was involved. Next up, we walked to the lakefront for the festival. We went to the Boathouse and drank Harpoon Shandies right on the water. We walked around the festival for awhile before we headed to the town of Winooski to sit on the patio of McKee's Pub for some afternoon beverages. That night, the four of us went to the Shanty on the Shore for a feast of seafood. We ate raw oysters on the half shell and fried calamari as we watched the sun set on Lake Champlain. The ladies drank silly frozen boat drinks while the boys had beer. The star of the night was Mr. Baird, who ordered not one, but TWO whole Maine lobsters. He had no problem finishing it. The rest of us were more reserved, Tori and Jen split two types of sea scallops while I had my way with a bucket of steamed clams. All in all, it was the perfect way to cap off a fun weekend with friends, both old and new.

 

I have been in Vermont now for almost four months. I joked when I first moved here that I had come here to retire. What I meant by that was that I was ready for something different. Technically, it was not a retirement, but more of a rebirth, an occupational renaissance. I was burnt out on media, having spent the last few years working in television and radio. Some of you will remember that I made a shallow attempt at culinary school back in the fall of 2005. I've always felt drawn to working in a kitchen. My close friend and confidant Jon Avise, also an underpaid media worker, and I constantly day dream over text messages about co-owning our own little place. I think in another life we both would have been Sam Malone**. So when the opportunity arose to work in an Old World Butcher Shop/Delicatessen in downtown Burlington, I jumped at it. I'm not even sure how I managed to get the job, but I did, and I am having the time of my life.

 

Guild Fine Meats is located just over a half mile from our apartment, so I no longer have to drive and deal with traffic. I can walk to work in about 10 minutes. I love not having to rely on a car. I don't remember the last time I bought gas. Today was the first day I drove my car in over a week. It's wonderful. I don't know what took me so long to make this move, I suppose I needed to experience jobs I didn't want to do before I found one I did enjoy. I know I'm only two weeks into my new job, but I am loving it. I work with a great group of people, and I get to work with food. The only problem, as I told Tori, is that it's only increased my desire to one day own my own place. I suppose it's the romanticism of reading Richard Russo novels, but I love the idea of having my own breakfast diner/lunch counter in New England. The other day I was standing by one of the storefront

windows, looking out at Burlington City Hall and its park, chopping vegetables for kebabs, and I thought to myself, "This is what being content feels like." It's a wonderful feeling, that moment when you realize that you are doing what you love to do, and someone is willing to pay you to do it. I'm not sure where the future will take us. Tori will be done with school in two years. By then she may be ready to move on. Perhaps I will, too. But in the mean time, I'm happy where I'm at. That's something I haven't said in a long time.

 

*It's been over thirty years and we're still referencing Who Shot JR? as our example of cliffhanger television. At what point does that reference stop making sense? Will there ever be anything to replace it?

 

**Seriously. Sam Malone. Cheers premiered in 1982. Has TV been that bad that all of our references go back to 30 year old TV shows?