AS THE PROPRIETOR of a new art gallery opening soon, I’m hoping to keep my customers, if I’m lucky enough to have any, happy. Short of laying out deli platters of lox and bagels which I normally would under similar circumstances but which would require a separate permit from the town–not to mention having to explain to the Mainers what lox is–I decided to invest in one of those new coffee contraptions that makes one cup at a time, and can even do tea and hot chocolate.
I started with a phone call to our local kitchen supply store, which is high-end but not all the way to fancy-schmancy. Still, they carry All-Clad, and Martha Stewart would definitely shop there. Best of all, the store is only three miles from my home.
To my shock, I struck out. I was told that although they once sold the Keurig, they discontinued it after K-Mart, Walmart and the local supermarket started to stock it. “You can buy them anywhere these days,” the owner intoned, apparently quite miffed. “Staples, Hannaford, Bed, Bath & Beyond—anywhere. Then there’s the Cuisinart, too, and they all take the same coffee pods. It used to be a gourmet item, but now….” His voice trailed off. I apologized for bringing him down and hung up.
My next call was to a truly high-end cookware shop a good half-hour and three towns away. This is where my husband and I go when we’re up for a weekend drive and are looking to drop some serious cash. Julia Child would have a running tab there, were she alive, of course. Fortunately I was on the phone and not there in person, as the saleswoman fairly hooted when I asked if they sold the Keurig coffee pot. “Coffee pot? Actually it’s a coffee maker, and no, we don’t carry it. You can pick that up in any supermarket.” I feared she was done with me, but she went on to say, “But we do carry the Nespresso.”
Worried that Nespresso only makes espresso, since that’s what we make with the one we already own, the saleswoman told me about their new line, available in the United States and Canada, that makes regular coffee. “If you are serving people who care about their coffee, go with Nespresso,” she said, adding that the VertuoLine Single Serve Brewer is “very intuitive.” I wasn’t sure what that meant, but then she elaborated by saying it works on centrifugal force, and the whole experience is so much better than the Keurig. “And it costs $300, whereas the Keurig is much less.” I could tell by her tone that $300 was good and “much less” was bad.
Since the Nespresso lady had sounded downright snooty and not my style at all, I stopped to consider what Rachael Ray, celebrity chef for us commoners, would do. Naturally I called Staples. The store manager said they only carry coffee pots, not coffee makers, and suggested I either come in and get a Mr. Coffee or try the Walmart down the road a piece. (We are near the Canadian border, after all.)
Finally, like all those forehead-slappers on TV who realize they could have had a V-8, I went online and in no time flat had ordered my Keurig Vue in a stunning cobalt blue, along with four kinds of coffee and some tea and hot chocolate. Everything will arrive at my door in just three days, and with free shipping to boot just because I entered the coupon code LUCKYSEVENS.
NO MATTER THE SEASON, if you live in D.C. the chances are pretty good there’s someone who doesn’t, rightwithin arm’s reach. Winter, spring, summer and fall, tourists flock to our nation’s capital, and who could blame them? With scads of monuments, museums, restaurants, concert venues, theater and shopping, it’s the perfect vacation destination.
After a while spent living in Washington, D.C., one develops not only a tolerance for and acceptance of, but also a genuine fondness for the tourists. At least I did in my 30 years as a resident. After all, it is our entire nation’s capital, and so the Texans and Floridians and all those folks from the middle of the country certainly have every right to be there. And of course they all get lost because understanding the city’s convoluted layout requires a master’s in engineering and a few years of practice. Besides, since the tourists clog–oops, I mean fill the city’s streets–all the time, every minute, albeit with a gentle swell in springtime caused by an increase in Japanese natives eager to admire their country’s gifted cherry trees, the residents are not stunned by their arrival en masse and can absorb them slowly and learn to live together in harmony.
This is not the case in Maine, where our normally low-key, borderline-soporific lives are violently wrenched from our collective slack grip one unsuspecting Saturday morning in June with little or no warning, unflinchingly replaced by a long line of stopped traffic on our usual route, more long lines at the local lobster shacks, really long lines at L.L. Bean’s, and maybe even the door slammed in our faces at our favorite restaurant, and that’s with a reservation!
Naturally we Mainers find this situation with the tourists shocking, depressing and more than a little annoying. After all, we put up with the long harsh winter and then the wet and rainy mud season with nary a nod of interest from the rest of the country. Even the meteorologists at the Weather Channel barely mention anything happening north of Boston, and when they do they call it “north of Boston.” New England is clearly America’s forgotten love child, visited once a year for a few weeks and then that’s it. (Maybe a card at Christmas.)
So when these total strangers from “away” come waltzing in with their bug spray and sunblock in search of some downtime and the perfect lobster roll, it’s seen as downright rude. Which is why, if you’re hoping to have some positive interactions with the indigenous folks, it’s much better to be a tourist lost in D.C. than here in Maine, where the most you’ll get in terms of traveler’s aid is a grunt and a nod in the direction you should go.
The only solace the locals get is knowing that the tourists don’t see the Maine we see all year, the private one that’s so easy to love, the one with all the fog that covers the fields and turns everything into a Hitchcock film shot in black and white. They miss out on the overwhelming peace and quiet, the no-hassles, drive-anywhere, park-anywhere, do-anything-anytime freedom of the place.
Instead they bring their homegrown ruckus and chaos right along with them. Seeing them stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic sometimes all the way from Boston up the coast to Acadia, their kayaks and bikes piled high on the roofs of their cars, I’m not sure why any of them ever decide to come back. It’s sad, really, when you think about it.
One fool-proof dieting method: When it’s time to eat, simply apply a strip of duct tape over your mouth. / iStock
DIETING IS VERY POPULAR. It’s not always done just to lose weight, although that is the first thing that comes to mind. Sometimes it’s to gain weight, or cleanse the colon, or just reset the metabolism or develop better eating habits. Whatever the reason, it’s a big motivator for nutritionists and physicians alike to write books, hopefully one that will make them rich.
A cursory look online shows that quite a few comedians like diets and try to come up with some funny ones. Let me clarify: I am not a comedian and this diet isn’t funny. It is quite serious and was designed to help you lose weight and keep it off by altering your lifestyle rather than your menu. There’s no counting calories or measuring portions; eat what you wish. Nevertheless, my “30 Day, 10-Step Diet” nets results. A mainstay for many since I first wrote it years ago, simply take it with a grain of salt, and I mean one grain, no cheating:
Stay home. Modern-day socializing is based almost exclusively on food consumption, so common sense tells us that refusing all party invitations is the keystone of any successful weight loss program. Whether it’s a casual dinner, a graduation brunch, a baby shower, a distant cousin’s wedding or your 25th high school reunion, just say no. Funerals are allowed, but only the burial at the graveside–no drowning your sorrows in food afterward “back at the house” with the grieving family.
Schedule surgery. Even a minor medical procedure involves fasting the day before and revulsion for as much as a week after, so naturally undergoing two or more surgeries a month can result in quite a few no-food days. If you’re in perfect health you can just opt to have a few unsightly moles removed, while older folks might consider getting a hernia repair, tummy tuck, brow lift or liposuction.
Lay in a supply of duct tape. If cooking is your thing, you can still enjoy preparing all the meals and serving them beautifully. But when it’s time to eat, simply apply a strip of duct tape over your mouth, then feast your eyes and smell all the goodness. After dinner simply scrape the untouched food into a Tupperware for the homeless shelter, remove the duct tape and go watch TV.
Walk around naked. A very important step, this really puts the problem in perspective. Studies have consistently proven that overeating in the nude is virtually impossible. In fact, depending on your particular circumstances and how long it’s been since you saw yourself nude, you might not eat a thing for days.
Shop for bathing suits. Following this rigorous exercise, you’ll be sobbing in bed– itself an aerobic activity when done properly—for several days. For quickest results, brings several suits that are smaller than your size into the dressing room. Repeat as necessary.
Get something notarized. A great calorie-burner as you drive from bank to bank, get in and out of your car, and stand in line trying to find a notary who is not at lunch, on vacation or off today.
Visit Disneyland. Actually, any popular family vacation destination will work just as well, as long as there are hordes of people stuffing themselves with hot dogs, taffy, cotton candy, pizza, French fries, burgers, lobster rolls, ice cream and funnel cakes. A guaranteed appetite suppressant, this works best in bathing suit season. (See #5.)
Redefine food. Drop your preconceived notions of what makes a meal. For example, why not consider condiments as the main course? Mustard and ketchup are quite filling when eaten in bulk and have zero fat. Toothpicks are a fun dessert, have no calories, and keep your mouth busy, and really, isn’t that all you need?
Disgust yourself. Keep a tarantula—actually any gross insect will do– in the refrigerator. This ploy will curb your desire for food indefinitely and, except for fear and loathing, has no debilitating side effects.
Bite the hand that feeds you. Do this often enough and those few remaining friends and pesky relatives will eventually stop bugging you to “eat something already!” The pounds will melt away.
Andrea Rouda Andrea Rouda blogs at Call Me Madcap!
