From Boston, we had a five-hour drive to our final destination of Bar Harbor, Maine (also pronounced, Bah Hahbah, if you so choose).
Having visited several rest stops in our various travels, we began to notice something different about Maine.
Trees and only trees surrounded us for the short distance we had traveled thus far, yet it wasn’t the scenery that struck us as unusual.
The rather small rest stop served as a place of relief and information only. I’m not sure if rest stops like this even exist any longer in New Jersey. Even so, this place was hopping. In the short time it took us to stretch our legs before going inside, people were coming and going continually.
That’s when Lance pointed the age demographic of almost* every single person was at a minimum twenty years above our own.
*I say almost, because there was one woman who we estimated might have only been in her mid-forties.
What this realization meant about our upcoming time in Maine, we didn’t know. Rather than read too deeply into it, we continued to marvel at the situation before hitting the road again.
From roads framed by trees we came upon the city life* of Maine via Portland. In a small amount of research on Portland, I learned that it is home to one third of Maine’s population and, for those of you who immediately thought, ‘Wow. There is a Portland outside of Portland, Oregon?’, Portland, Oregon was named after Portland, Maine.
*This term ‘city life’ is used ridiculously loosely here.
After this trip I’ve formed a soft spot for New England cities. They have a different kind of energy than what I’m used to, but in a good way. Everything is a little slowed down in comparison to the pace of New York, the streets are clean and calm, and there are many, many culinary offerings.
Can you sense where we’re headed?
Duckfat Fried Brussels Sprouts
With a name like Duckfat, how could anyone possibly avoid giving them a try? And while I initially pictured an overly refined menu with words that I would need to secretly Google, their menu is completely uncomplicated. It’s sandwiches, salads, and fries.*
*Oh, and milkshakes. We cannot, I repeat, cannot forget about the shakes.
Health freaks, you may want to stop reading here because, as their name hints, duckfat is what their fries are fried in.
Can all my fries be made this way from now until forever?
Slow Roasted Pulled Pork Cubano
To be honest, after our duckfat fried Brussels sprouts and our duckfat fried poutine*, not to mention the shakes we were still slurping down, we could have been finished.
We should have been finished.
My waist line is still wishing we had been finished.
But no. We had to try their sandwiches as well.
House Smoked Turkey
The generous serving size had me wishing I could save the leftovers. This is the one thing I absolutely hate about traveling. Aside from the fact I feel awful for throwing away food, I feel even more awful not being able to pull out such glorious leftovers hours later and finish them off.
43 Middle Street