I am home, sweet home, back in Georgia. I actually was home last night, after three nights in Presque Isle, Maine.
Before I left I had to make something for Jake that would last a few days. I knew that the 9×13: The Pan that Can book was the place to go. It’s a compilation from Better Homes and Gardens, and it hasn’t disappointed me yet. There’s a chapter for just lasagnas. And if that weren’t enough, there’s a separate chapter for cakes, bars, and brownies.
This isn’t a traditional lasagna. Instead of noodles it uses potatoes.
But there’s spinach and ricotta in there. And the sausage/mushroom layer has a nice little bechamel.
And let’s not forget the cheese. This kept Jake going for a few days while I was gone.
And this is how I spent my morning in the Old Port.
I stopped by the Two Fat Cats Bakery. I have to admit, I had a hard time deciding and finally had to go with the classic.
After a few hours of shopping in the rain I headed up to Freeport for some more, shopping in the rain, that is. Actually, I think the rain had stopped.
I decided to Listen to Rachael Ray just one more time. I should have let her end on a high note, though. I went looking for Harrakeeset Lunch and Lobster. My GPS told me it was on Main Street, which was true; it was just on Main Street in South Freeport. I went a little bit out of the way, and I guess it was worth it. It certainly wasn’t the best lobster roll ever, but it wasn’t bad. And the ambience was exactly matched to the old ice cream place I used to work at in high school.
A few notes about my Maine adventure: on the walkway from the plane they have a little welcome home sign with a lobster. I thought that was a nice touch.
On top of that, before you even get to baggage claim there’s a sign advertising wicked-good whoopie pies.
Also, the whole 5-hour drive to Presque Isle, and during the extra hour that my niece chauffeured me up to Fort Kent, is littered with moose crossing signs. Now, let’s not forget that I used to live in Maine, so I should not be so enamored with the touristic moose. (I was convinced I made up that word, touristic, but spellcheck says no. I just hope I used it correctly.) Those little warning signs may as well have been billboards. I felt that someone was promising me a moose. Well, it never happened. I did, however, see two deer, a couple of turkeys, and what I swear was an eagle’s nest on top of a light pole.
Well, I guess you could count this guy that I saw at the airport.
Eat Well and Savor.