On the Road: Lobsters, Steamers & Bourbon, Oh My! - Beach Blast 2010 - Long Beach, Rockport, MA

Wow, you know you've lost some focus when you get called out for not updating your blog.  That's exactly what my Dad did a few days ago.  "What's up with Blind Tastes?  I can tell you must be focused on something if you haven't posted about the lobsters yet!", he said.  He was right.  Time to refocus!

 View as the tide heads out on Long Beach, Rockport, MA

Every summer for the past I-don't-know-how-many years my folks have rented a beach house in Rockport, MA on Long Beach.  Well, they actually started on Pebble Beach and eventually scored a spot next to our best family friends, the Flynn's.  Heck, I consider the Flynn's part of our family.  That's how many great times we've had together over the years.  I've been going to Long Beach since I was a wee lad and, for me, it's the best beach in the world.  Sure, there are no palm trees, no exotic drinks, no scantily clad women (besides the one we saw walking the beach whom Dad and I agreed should never wear a two-piece again), and no blue-green warm water seething with sea life.  Nope, just a long arching beach with soft sand and chilled waters backed by an elevated boardwalk overlooking it all.  I'm not sure whether it's the sand, decent surf, or all of the great family memories that make this beach my favorite of all.  It certainly isn't the cold water, that's for damn sure!  Talk about shrinkage!  Maybe it's the good beach folk, falling asleep in the bed on the front porch, or the fact that the beach quadruples in size at low tide, providing ample room for whiffle ball, bocce, and all sorts of fun.  Wait a minute, who am I kidding?  It's the beers, bourbon, lobsters and steamers!

Can't beat sleeping on the porch bed listening to the waves come crashing in

This year the annual lobster beach blast was extra special.  It was Dad's 60th and Mum had conspired for a surprise party and invited friends to "roast" Dad.  This was great for two reasons.  The first was because it guaranteed we would have a great turnout and an even better time.  The second was pure selfishness for me.  You see, I've been grooming Dad into a bourbon connoisseur for a few years now - a trip to Kentucky for distillery tours, a subscription to The Bourbon Review, alerting him when I find a new bourbon, etc - and I knew that he had passed on enough education to his buddies for there to be some nice bourbon gifts as a result.  These gifts would have to be shared, of course.  Poor me!  Wow, some of my favorites just happened to pop up - Eagle Rare, Wathen's, Pappy Van Winkle 23yr(!!), and the new Makers 46.  Dad's only mistake was leaving the Makers 46 out on the table and not tucked away inside.  It was gonzo within a few hours!

Big Ol' Bucket O' Bugs!

Dad's been sourcing our lobsters from Ken Porter at Roy Moore Lobster Co. in Rockport for years.  This year we ended up with over 50 two pounders and about 18 pounds of steamers which were both a few more than we ordered without the charge for the overage.  Great customer service, pricing, and flavor of the lobsters from Roy Moore's ensure repeat business each and every year.  It also explains why they move over 100,000 pounds of ocean-fresh lobster each year (probably more since this was written in 2004 - a good read for more info on Roy Moore Lobster Co.).  I must admit that this year's lobsters were the best I can ever remember them being.  I started my methodical destruction of lobster with my favorite part, the claws, before working my way to the tail, a few legs, a few fins, and even a little lobster roe.  The sweet meat dipped in butter tasted better and better with each bite.  I was more than willing to polish off my cousin Sarah's claws too when she couldn't handle more than the tail.  I still think it's funny when people in Miami try to tell me that spiny lobster found in Florida waters with no claws is better than New England lobster.  That's just plain crazy talk.

Lobstah, lobstah bib, lobstah shirt! ~ Photo by cousin Ben Hodson

The steamers this year weren't up to par with years past.  Their bellies were sandy and smaller than usual and kept coming separated from the rest of the clam, making a mess.  No matter, lobsters and steamers are a dirty sport best enjoyed on a picnic bench with good friends and family.  As usual, we had a few leftover lobsters that were chilled and then shelled the following morning by Dad who didn't leave much left in the shell.  That promptly turned into a nice batch of lobster rolls that my Mum put together with butter-toasted flat-bottom buns, a minimal amount of mayo, and a touch of lemon juice to perk up the flavors.  I like to add some dill flake onto mine too and managed to take down two of these bad boys shown below before leaving for the airport.  Dad's suggestion to take one on the plane was considered but ultimately rejected because I knew I'd have inhaled that roll in the car.

Lobster leftovers = lobster rolls for lunch!

It was another awesome year at our annual Beach Blast, packed with a lot of flavor.  This truly is my favorite vacation every year because I get to fully relax and just spend time with family and friends without a care in the world.  I'm already looking forward to next year!

Navigating the Atlantic on my friend Ryan's SUP ~ photo by cousin Ben Hodson

 

 Sunrise on Long Beach, Rockport, MA - July 2007

The Hunt

My cousin, Drew, is more than just my cousin.  He is also one of my best friends.  The guy is just awesome and I can't even count on two hands and two feet the amount of epically kickass times we've had together.  Drew is also into a bunch of stuff that I've never really got into, and because of that, I've learned a lot from him.  One of those things was how to shoot a shotgun.  About a year and a half ago, Drew took me up to Quail Creek Plantation to shoot clay pigeons.  I was extremely nervous because firearms had always made me uneasy but Drew demanded that I go, so I did.  Did I mention that in addition to being a kickass guy that Drew is also the biggest enabler on the face of the earth?  I ended up having an awesome time and was a pretty good shot too.

This year, right around my birthday, I had been talking with Drew about going shooting again as I knew he is always looking for an excuse to go.  It was then that he decided that he would one-up our last shooting trip and take me on a quail hunt with a guide and hunting dogs for my birthday.  The real deal.  Once again, I was a tad nervous but I had a feeling that this would be a great time so I said, "I'm in".  It turned out being one of the best times I've ever had.

Quail Creek Plantation

We woke up on a Saturday morning at 5:30am and were out the door by 6am.  We had got in on a hunt that had become available at the last minute thanks to a cancellation so we had to be at Quail Creek in Okeechobee, FL by 8am.  It was only about a 1.5 hour drive from Drew's place in West Palm Beach, but we wanted to give ourselves some time to get there and wake up.  It was a chilly morning and we were driving with the top down so waking up wasn't too hard.  We arrived at the plantation and checked in.  They brought me a 20-gauge shotgun to use for the day as Drew only had his one 20-gauge because his 12-gauge was with the gunsmith for a tune-up.  A smaller gauge shell is better for hunting the tiny quail anyways.  After signing our waivers and meeting our guide, Eric, a guy about our age who had relocated from Illinois in 2005 to work at Quail Creek, we headed to our buggy which would take us out into the field to hunt for quail.

The Hunting Buggy

The buggy was equipped with a couple of gun racks, comfy seats, some storage space, and cages where the dogs were held.  We donned our orange vests for safety while out in the field and loaded the pockets with shells.  Eric then introduced us to three of the five dogs that would be helping us locate the quail that hide amongst the bushes in the field.  The cages opened and two "pointers" (I forget the actual breed) named Willie and Joker went flying by the buggy, followed by a black lab "retriever" named Storm.  These dogs were tearing up the field, running with great speed and bounding over tall grass and in between the brush while taking a few short breaks to relieve themselves.  I told Eric that I wished I had about one-tenth the amount of energy these dogs had.  He said that they have a high protein diet and will run and run for our hunt as well as an afternoon hunt on a nice cool day like the one we had going for us but he liked to give them a rest and let the other dogs (there were 2 more pointers in the buggy) stretch their legs too.

 

Storm, Joker, and Willie searching for quail in the field

It wasn't long before Joker and Willie stopped dead in their tracks, nose and paw pointing at a bush in front of them, tail raised high and stiff.  "Whoa dog!  E-zay.", Erik commanded.  "Bird in 'ere. E-zay."  Drew and I took position to the left and right of Eric and the dogs who had this bush surrounded.  Once we were set, Eric called for Storm to come over and flush out the birds.  "Storm!  Bird in 'ere, dog.  Get 'em bird.  Get 'em bird."  Storm prowled up to the bush looking for his spot and, once he found it, darted at the bush.  This sent two quail flying to our right where Drew had the shot, the flutter of their little wings filling the air in front of us.  He missed and Eric decided we'd call it "morning rust".  It actually made me feel better because I was sure I was going to miss a lot throughout the day and I did just that the next time the dogs sent quail flying to my side.  On our third attempt, however, I nailed the first quail of the day and at a decent distance too!  I was pumped with adrenaline and excitement and was now completely over my "first quail jitters".

Willie returning with quail as Storm looks on

"Hunt dead, Willie.  Hunt dead, Joker.", Eric commanded and both Willie and Joker set out to the spot where the bird had gone down.  Willie proudly returned with the quail in his mouth, the bird still squeaking as he approached.  "I guess that one's still alive?", I asked Eric.  "No, you shot it in the head, I'm quite sure it's dead.", Eric replied while I stood there puzzled.  "Why is it still squeaking then?", I asked.  "Oh, that's the original squeaky toy.", Eric said while removing the bird from Willie's mouth.  He held it up and gave it a few squeezes and, sure enough, the bird squeaked each time from the air going in and out of its lungs.  I laughed at what I had just learned and we returned to the hunt.

Willie and Joker were doing a great job finding quail for us and later on Clyde and Maggie were pretty effective as well when they came in from the bullpen to give the first 2 sprinters a rest.  These birds don't fly too far but man can they hide.  Sometimes we would be able to see them running on the ground away from the dogs too which was kinda funny.  We had to be careful at all times once the birds flew as the dogs would take off after them and sometimes be in the line of fire.  Any sort of wound inflicted on a dog would carry a $2000 fine and the guilt of knowing that you shot a dog, a feeling I was not eager to experience.  There were many shots that I held off on because of this and I know Eric appreciated my caution.  I also held off on a few shots when we had ventured into the more wooded part of the field as I was not eager to get a face full of splinters.

A couple of times the dogs flushed out a covey of anywhere between twenty and thirty birds!  It was almost too overwhelming deciding where to point and shoot so I rarely aimed at these times, operating on the premise that I had to hit something and both Drew and I did just that.  At one point Drew was on fire, the dogs flushing birds his way and him taking 'em down with one shot.  His streak lasted for about 8 birds, including one where he started laughing as Storm literally bounced a quail off the ground twice before it flew and then continued to laugh as he shot it down with one pull of the trigger.  This made us all crack up and pretty much summed up the day as a great time.

At the end of the day we had taken down 32 quail and had a lot of fun doing so.  Hunters are allowed 12 apiece on the hunt but we were having a great time so we stayed out for a few more at an extra fee before the hunt's scheduled completion at 11:30am.  At that point, we unloaded and stowed our shotguns, watched as the dogs leaped back into their cages, and fired up a victory cigar.

 The victors and the spoils!

 We chatted with Eric on the way back about various hunts that they do at Quail Creek which include quail, turkey, deer, and hog.  The hogs actually are quite a nuisance as they tear up fields and leave them prone to slight flooding as evidenced by a field we saw with large lines of what appeared to be swampy marsh.  Once we got back to the lodge, we were greeted by the plantation chef and served a nice lunch that consisted of pork with mushrooms in a mustard sauce, fried quail, zucchini with a cheese sauce that was seasoned with a little cinnamon, some yellow rice, and one of the best biscuits and gravy I've ever had.

Good Grubbin'

After lunch we sat out on the deck at the lodge and enjoyed another cigar while basking in the sun.  It had warmed up throughout the day and ended up being one of those days where I am extremely thankful to be living in Florida.  Eric appeared with two coolers filled with sixteen quail apiece for us to take home and eat.  These weren't the actual quail that we shot, rather ones from a hunt on the previous day as it would've been a few hours for us to wait for our quail to be cleaned.  With hunts going on at a clip of twice per day, I know these quail had not sat long.

Nothing says, "I'm going hunting" like a 1987 Ferrari 328

As we walked to the car, a hunter in a cowboy hat looked at us and said, "Howdy, men."  I thought that was fitting.  We said hello and I turned to Drew and said, "That guy's right.  You see a couple of guys with two bags of quail and a shotgun and "men" is the appropriate way to address them."  We laughed as we loaded up our "hunting mobile" and were on our way back to West Palm Beach.  I was smiling from ear to ear and extremely thankful to have been invited on such an awesome trip.  Another batch of great memories for the good ol' memory bank and a perfect final adventure to end what has been a somewhat tumultuous year for yours truly.  Thank you times a thousand, Drew.  

As we rode I-95 on the way home, I thought of the meal that could be had with our quail and made a phone call.  We'll save that for another post on another day though...

 

 

RIBFEST 2009: Sticky Sweet, Slightly Sour

RIBFEST 2009 was held down at the Homestead Air Reserve Park this past weekend and I was fired up to check it out.  A late night of drinking during Saturday night's "Sleepless Night" event on Miami Beach had me waking up with fire in my belly, a fire that was beckoning for sweet, succulent ribs and ice cold beer.  After some wacky coordination, I met up with Paula of Mango & Lime, her husband, David, and Jackie of Kitchen Interviews and began the trek to Homestead.

It was a beautiful day out with the sun shining and a cool breeze flowing thru open windows as we motored on down the turnpike, using Google maps to get us to our final destination.  At exit 5, we were hit with a huge log jam of traffic that was being poorly coordinated by police officers.  I say poorly coordinated because most of the police were sitting in their cars doing nothing while one of them tried to police the traffic.  Go figure.  I was shocked at how many people would be going to Ribfest.  I mean, ribs are awesome and all but this traffic was ridiculous!  Shortly after making our turn off of the exit, I discovered that the reason for the traffic was that there was also an airshow going on at the same time.  You could see various planes circling the skies getting warmed up for the airshow and a 2-for-1 event kinda made up for the traffic delay.

It wasn't until we arrived about 200 yards from the entrance to the parking lot that we saw a sign that advertised the Ribfest.  Had it not been for iPhones, Blackberrys, and Google maps, we'd have been screwed on directions.  Note to Ribfest organizers - next year have better signage.  We parked and headed into the event.  There was a $15 entry fee that covered, well, nothing.  It got you into the section of the park where all the vendors were set up along with a main stage for live music.  We handed in our tickets and walked into the event and were greeted by some young folk who asked, "Do you want to drink?"  "Sure", I replied, and they slapped a wristband on my wrist.  No I.D. needed.  Awesome.

We don't need no stinkin' I.D.

First Class First Aid

With a band on stage shredding thru their version of "Freebird", we made our way through a bunch of retailer tents where people were hawking wares like bonsai trees, cowboy hats, jerky, spices, and t-shirts.  I'm a jerky fan and stopped by the Fatman & Mike tent to check out what they had to offer.  The Fatman and his buddy, Mike, hooked me up with a sample of their jerky which was sweet on the tongue followed by a little spicy heat.  They use lean beef cuts rather that fatty ones so the jerky is a lot less chewy.  I enjoyed that a lot since chewing fatty jerky can often be similar to chewing on rope in its consistency.  Jackie was into their spice rub, so they offered us a "2 for $10" deal on the jerky/rub combo which saved us each a buck, the only time we would save anything all day.

Next order of business - cold beer.  Miller Lite tents were scattered throughout the event and it was fairly easy to get a beer.  At $5 for a 12oz Miller Lite or a Fosters, perhaps most people were avoiding the beer tent?  Or maybe it was the annoying dude that was behind the counter, asking people what they wanted, giving them their total cost, and then being sure to add, "plus tip".  I guarantee that this booth missed out on a lot of tips thanks to this douchebag.  Every time I got a beer and he said that he pretty much guaranteed that I wasn't going to leave a tip.  Had he kept his mouth shut just one time I'd have tipped but he blew it for himself. 

We walked by some horses and horse riders and made our way over to the real reason we were here.  Twelve "Ribbers" and their booths formed a nice line and offered up all sorts of options from ribs to chicken to samiches, as many called them.  We decided a "divide and conquer" plan would be the best way to sample as many ribs as we could so we each picked a booth and returned to one of the many picnic tables to share our bounties.  Here are the first sets of ribs that we sampled:

Huckleberry Hillbilly BBQ

Skin N' Bones

Aussome Aussie

Porky N' Beans

My least favorite of all of these ribs were the ones I picked, Huckleberry Hillbilly.  Go figure haha.  They were overcooked and pretty dry and the Key Lime BBQ sauce didnt really pack much of a key lime taste at all, though this Ribber did win Best Sauce later on in the day.  I really enjoyed all 3 of the other rib offerings.  The Aussome Aussie ribs were sticky sweet and super tender.  Skin N' Bones were different than the rest in the bunch in that they had a killer dry rub on them that was fine on its own.  Even though these ribs didnt really need any sauce at all, the flavor was enhanced when dipped in one of the 3 sauce options that Ms. Jackie brought along, my favorite being the spicy bbq sauce.  I also liked that these ribs had some major meat on the bone.  My favorite ribs of the entire day, however, were the Porky N' Beans ribs.  These suckers were sauced well with a smoky, not-too-sweet, sauce that carmelized on some of the edges for a chewy, concentrated effect that I loved.  They were also fall-off-the-bone tender and melted in your mouth with little chewing necessary which is key when you're inhaling ribs like we were.

After another round of beers and a quick cameo by Anice of @epicuriouschic fame, David and I decided that we need to sample more ribs so that our guts would protrude more and allow us to fit in better with the crowd.  Paula was also interested in the ribs offered by Blazin' Broncos since they had a huge line outside their booth.  David went with Pig In, Pig Out, who also had a "Ribsicle" at their tent that we somehow managed to avoid.  I went with Willingham's, who also had a long line outside their tent.  It was in this line where I met Chuck, a part of the Willingham's team and a guy who is all about ribs and barbeque.  He gave us "2 reasons why we were in his line" and then pointed to the banners on each side of their booth that indicated the awards these ribs had won.  He also talked about the smoking and cooking processes they used and included some fun math exercises for the kids in line.  Nice guy and definitely passionate about his ribs.  I thought this second round was just OK.  I didnt know if it was because my belly was reaching mass capacity or if it was because I had already had some killer ribs but these ones just didnt do it for me.  Willingham's had the best flavor in my opinion but they were a little dry.  The others were also just OK.

Pig In, Pig Out

 

Chuck droppin' serious rib knowledge

Willingham's

The last Blazin' Bronco

I was pretty full at this point and luckily so was everyone else.  We took a walk and checked out some of the booths we missed along with the band on stage that had just gone country with Chuck Wicks crooning to a diverse audience, warming them up for Tracy Lawrence.  I have never heard of either of these guys but they weren't bad.  I liked the earlier bands better though.  The tiny walk we took freed up some room in my belly for my favorite veggie - corn on the cob.  Paula joined me at the roasted corn booth where our corn cobs were dunked in a bucket of clarified butter and presented to us.  I housed my corn so fast that Paula likened it to the old cartoon where those black crowes eat corn like it was a typewriter haha.  The corn was damn good though, with large kernals and a nice buttery flavor.  Embracing my inner Ribber, I tossed the empty cob in the garbage, belched, and wiped my mouth with my shirt.  Booyeah!

We waited around to catch a bit of the airshow and listen to the big winners at the Ribfest.  Blazin' Broncos took the top spot in the rib category, followed by my favorite, Porky N' Beans.  Aussome Aussie took 3rd place, so I guess we nailed right ribs by sampling all 3 of the top Ribbers.  This video of the airshow was captured by David.




Ribfest was a good time, albeit a somewhat expensive one.  I think I spent close to $100 on admission, beers, ribs, jerky, and corn.  I guess it was a small price to pay for a good time far removed from the gates of the city, especially after I bought a kickass cowboy hat on our way out.  Yee-haw!

Golly Whoppers!!!

When airline travel woes get me down, there are two things that raise my spirits rather quickly - a good bourbon and a good meal.  Being that my latest episode occurred in Chattanooga, Tennessee during the middle of the day and right before a meeting with a customer, bourbon was out as a remedy.  So, my sales rep and I headed out to grab a bite before our meeting.  Our destination: Golly Whoppers.

Yes, Golly Whoppers is an actual name of a real establishment.  It's a sandwich shop with a salad bar and they also bake their own bread daily.  Any time I'm in the South, I'm lookin' to get me some pulled pork barbecue, usually in sandwich form.  Well, GollyWhoppers had just that on their menu.

Now I know where the eatery got its name cuz Golly Whoppers was that sandwich big!!!  It was more like 2 sandwiches!  Fresh baked wheat bread topped with slaw and then piled high with tender pulled pork.  A sweet and savory bbq sauce finished this bad boy off.  I inhaled the first half of the sandwich, each bite erasing some of the bad vibes that had been coursing my veins from the airline losing my baggage earlier in the day.  I really enjoyed the softness of the pork and the crunch of the fresh slaw which was also moist without making the sandwich soggy.  I was pretty full after that first half but I was determined to finish off the second half.  I made a valiant effort but, in the end, I bowed to the awesomeness that is the large bbq pulled pork sandwich that is Golly Whoppers.  If you ever find yourself in Chattanooga and you want a killer lunch, check this place out and get this sandwich.  It's a winner.

Golly Whoppers

6337 E Brainerd Rd
Chattanooga, TN 37421

(423) 855-2001 (Phone)