In the morning, I opened one eye to glimpse the sun's rays... then snoozed for a blissful hour. Still the earliest riser, I brewed a mug of warmth, carried firewood in from the garage, started a cheerful fire, and propped my feet up. No work, chores, subway, or errands. Nestled under a snuggly blanket, I savored some "me time". The fragrance of a log fire is gratifying.
Last summer, Lee visited NYC, and the three of us dined at an organic restaurant in Gramercy called Purdy's Farmer & the Fish. What a small world! The original restaurant existed 15-minutes from Wixon House. So, I made a reservation (3 weeks earlier)--to snag a table by one of the antique wood-burning fireplaces--and we brunched there! It is located in the Town of North Salem, which began before the American Revolutionary War (1776) but was officially established in 1788.
Seen below, the ramshackle farmhouse contains the restaurant. Its wraparound porch is ideal in warmer months.
Built in 1757, the historic site is the most popular place in town because of its reputation of farm-to-table goodness.
Their farm is behind the restaurant, and they have a year-round Farm Shop. Its website shows a weekly list of seasonal items: dairy, baked goods, seafood, meats, preserves, and sweets.
The property contains its smokehouse...
earthen root cellar...
maple syrup making...
and two heated greenhouses...
The beamed dining room was decorated in preparation of Saint Valentine's Day. Indicative of a Colonial-era home, it has three fireplaces. Unlike the ones in NYC, they all functioned!
*To see our atypical Valentine's Day, please click this link:
To see our extravagant celebration of that holiday as a trip to Milan, Italy, please click this link:
The lively popping and cracking of the fire reminded Lewis and I of our lunch in a Paris café in 2011. (In the Latin Quarter). There, modest eateries regularly cook on "log fires", whereas New York charges customers extra for the luxury of merely seeing a fireplace! (and--despite its frigid winters--NYC doesn't invest to have many fireplaces). Thus, a fireside meal was a treat for us!
Arriving early, we sat at the bar, sipped Bloody Marys, and slurped several fresh oysters from the seafood counter.
Behind us, the chef lectured the waitstaff about the day's menu and "specials", so they knew every ingredient and flavor profile. That was strategically thoughtful.
The hostess sat us right beside a fireplace, which got ignited upon our arrival. Freshly-made blueberry muffins and chocolate bread greet us, alongside PERFECT organic butter!
Homegrown blueberries are the best! Lee asked if we ever tasted better ones? I admitted that I ate great ones in Bar Harbor, Maine. For a few years, my family summered there, and its seafood, Acadia National Park, and blueberries were worth the 500 miles (804 kilometers) to drive there.
Above, I began with Pork wrapped in thick-cut Bacon and topped with Celeriac and shredded Winter Root Vegetables.
Below, Lewis was excited to have Steamer Clams--which are usually only found during summer! He was thrilled.
Wearing my yellow flannel shirt, I blended in smoothly with the locals. Lee loved his smooth-skinned Omelette with Comté cheese and Mushrooms. I had the Farmer's Breakfast: biscuit with grill marks, scrambled hen-laid eggs, sausage gravy, and chives. A side of Tofu French toast sticks was a nice surprise to find on the rustic menu. Right next to our table, the cozy fire kept our hearts warm: an idyllic countryside experience!
Requesting the check from the goatee-wearing owner, I thanked him for lighting the fire and making my boyfriend's birthday (the actual day) start so wonderfully. To our surprise, the man was wowed that we chose his homey eatery for such an occasion. Shooing away our polite protests, he insisted on gifting Lewis a birthday dessert! So sweet!
*To see when we had a farm-to-table meal where we ate the King and Queen of Norway's vegetables, please use this link:
Merrily, we got back into Lee's car and commenced the next segment of our day. We crossed the state border into Connecticut.
We drove to Ridgefield to attend a matinée showing at their local playhouse. I discovered it online, and Lee was interested because he had never been to it before. (He loves it when I find things in his own vicinity that he hasn't found during his 13 years of residency). It was amusing that such an elite neighborhood truly had a "playhouse in a barn"! The parking lot was full of Mercedes-Benzes and Audis, and the barn had a real bar that served liquor.
Additionally, it was a BYOB place. A well-appointed set faced the tables and chairs, lit with flameless candles. Titled "Old Ringers", the comedy centered around retirees making extra money via phone sex, while a Christianized daughter falls in love with a local detective who solves their crime.
Lee knew that Lewis and I would celebrate our eighth-year anniversary soon, so he treated us for dinner. We dined at Lewis' favorite restaurant in the area: a lakeside place with boat docks called Blu.
Seen below is an image of how crowded the place was when we arrived. For music, a man strummed a Spanish guitar. Just as thought that we'd have to eat elsewhere, the owner brought us to a table in the "back room". We had never been there before.
What a surprise! During the winter, it was enclosed and heated. It was nearly full, but it was much quieter. Lewis was content. We enjoyed fresh seafood and a bottle of German Riesling, selected with help from our gay waiter. We eschewed dessert, but the Universe still let us witness the waiters singing "Happy Birthday" to the table right next to us! It was so cute, and I assured Lewis that it was meant for him from the Universe. He agreed.
Returning to Wixon House, Lee used his mobile phone to activate the lights and heat. Using Lee's cocktail shaker, Lewis prepared Manhattans, and I ignited wood in the fireplace. We passed the night playing uproarious rounds of Pictionary (which Lewis brought from home), surprising each other with our drawing skills and guessing skills!
Overall, it was a splendid time, and we took the train home on Monday morning... wisely after the commuter rush ended.
Lingering scents from the fireplace embers clung to our clothes as a grateful reminder of our fun times.
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