the whole plate.

Hello from paradise, otherwise known as Ogunquit, Maine!  I’ve been here for just under 48 hours, and I am in literal heaven.  Relaxation never feels as good as it does by a sleepy New England beach.

Yesterday, I woke up with sunlight streaming into my sister’s and my shared hotel room [I'm sure I've mentioned that my bedroom in the city has no windows.  Natural light is something to be savored.]  I lazily stretched out of bed, changed my clothes, walked down to the beauty that is the beach, and went for a run.

Weird, I know.

This is maybe my fifth run this summer – I’ve gone when I’ve felt like it, which isn’t often.  My desire to get on my yoga mat is usually stronger, but when you have a beach, you run on it.  Or at least walk.  Am I right?

My knees haven’t fallen apart, so I hope to go on another before the end of our stay here.  But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

My day yesterday was highly taxing.  I accomplished a lot:

• I laid on my beach blanket and started reading a new book.
• I laid on the lawn in front of my hotel and read some more.
• My parents returned from a golf game, and we all went back to the beach and read more.

It was a really tough day, so a leisurely dinner out was clearly well-deserved.

Our restaurant itinerary up here is always partially planned: we’ll never skip fresh lobster, for instance, or the the two homes of Ogunquit’s dynamic culinary duo, Mark and Clark.  This year, we’re adding a few new places to the rotation, and we began the new visits last night at a little bar called Tapas and Tinis.

my martini: gin, muddled cucumber, touch of vermouth.  mom’s: bloody mary straight up.

We’re a family that shares all our food regardless of where we dine.  Bread plates always remain on the table so we can pass around bites of our appetizers and entrees, and when dessert arrives, we pick up our plates and pass them clockwise around, making sure to never miss out on a single flavor.  Sharing is a key aspect of dining: if you are only interested in your own dish, well, you can’t dine with this family.

My family has never done a meal of tapas together, which is ironic considering tapas are designed to be divvied up.  This new-ish restaurant gave us the opportunity to remedy that, and over the course of the next hour and a half, we sipped our drinks while enjoying a steady flow of small plates.  Highlights are pictured:

crostini with lemon-pepper-mascarpone spread and roasted artichoke hearts

salmon with vidalia onion and fig sauce

grilled corn on the cob with manchego

ribs with barbecue sauce and paprika

fried artichoke hearts with horseradish dipping sauce

Unpictured: spicy garlic scallops, grilled asparagus with lemon, spicy chorizo with cannellini beans and roasted peppers.

I was very much in my foodie mindset of “I want to experience every flavor, ” so yes: I tried everything, ribs and chorizo included.  I’ve had chorizo before and remembered again that I’m not a fan; the ribs, on the other hand, were my first experience.  They were good!  

All in all though, the food didn’t blow us away.  The experience of sharing tastes of this and that, however?  Truly wonderful, as expected.  That’s half the battle.

We left the table sans dessert in order to make the first of several necessary visits to The Secret Ice Cream Place.

I needed a scoop of pumpkin and a scoop of graham cracker.  Best. Ice. Cream. In. The. World.

I conquered 170 pages of my book yesterday, and I plan to finish the next 170 on the beach today.  Life is grand.

Do you like sharing when you go out to eat?

Related posts:

1. ice cream secrets.
2. companionship at the dinner table.
3. flowing.