Well, out of DC for a bit, and to the Eastern most shore of Maryland/Virginia!! Where ponies, blue crabs, and horseflies and mosquitoes that could drain a house cats blood all call home. Now I like to glimpse at 1, devour another, and would love to exterminate the other. To help one out, I heartily enjoy ingesting MD Blue Crab, which is by and large the best seafood that this planet has to offer, and I am not a glue manufacturer, so therefore, have no vendetta against ponies. So, I really would like to kill the mosquitoes, and took a few out while they decided to drink from the tap that is my epidural layer of skin. However, I must say, before I move on, that I had my last (for the immediate future) DC cupcake. This one was exactly what they said it would be, a luscious, hearty chocolate cake with a no frills fancy light-chocolate frosting. It was sculpted hard on the outside so it had a bit of a crunch, then soft and dry on the inside that went well with my huge coffee. A Texas Sheet cupcake from Baked & Wired? I think so. You know a place is going to be decent when there is a bright pink mountain bike festooning the outside tree fence. And if Texas tastes as good as their cupcake, count me there in a heart beat!
There is no way to accurately describe my love of Chincoteague, Virginia. The easiest way to do it is as such: my favorite soft serve and crab shack exist on this tiny little island that probably has less full time residents than my apartment building in DC. By no means does this detract from the island's culinary scene, and trust me, I like to go on a beach vacation where if I get brutally attacked and maimed/eaten by a shark, no one will here me scream. That means that I am truly getting away from the hub-bub of life, and can rest peacefully. (Plus The Discovery Channel's Shark Week is coming up, so I need to get into the theme!!!) Pretty much the below two pics are why I love this island. These pics are a time lapse of me on a carnivorous date with: 4 blue crabs, a pound or so of shrimp, 2 red potatoes, a piece of corn, a dozen or so local clams, some fried shrimp, a chicken leg or two, and some corn soup that simply shouldn't be as good as it was. Oh, and about 4 tablespoons too much of the best Old Bay Seasoning around!
Does this not entertain you? I don't know what is uglier, me after one of these meals, or gladiatorial fights...It goes from innocent little guy on left to absolute train wreck on the right. Talk about a composter's dream! All thanks to my favorite restaurant in the world, Steamers. Just sit down at the heavy wood tables with the butchers paper on it, and GO TO TOWN. For two nights, I did just that, and practically ate myself into a coma. In fact, I felt as though I was on a seafood high, and seriously felt as though I was having an out-of-body experience. Or maybe, I was so full that my brain pulled energy from thinking and sent it to digestion....
Of course one cannot simply eat dinner. Especially in this country, if you are stuffed to the brim with more food than is humanely possible to properly shove down one's throat, then it is time for ice cream. But not just any ice cream, but soft serve. And not just any soft serve, but Mr. Whippy's soft serve. If you don't get twist soft serve dipped in something on a waffle cone, you're a Communist. Everyone knows Communists hate ice cream, so there you go. I just so happened to get the above dipped in cherry sauce, and that first bite cracking through that thin layer of cherry into that somehow 97% fat free cold, lickable goodness was the fruitful capping of a 7 or 8 year wait. I normally don't need a towel, but after that, one was assuredly required. Happiness was at a level not seen since the two hours before when Plate One touched down at my Steamers table. These are the types of places I'd drive 6 hours to eat at, then go straight home, and so glad we stayed a little longer to take in some sights! Not only this, but I did a quick artistic stint at Build Your Own Cookie, ending a triumphant night of mini-golf (where we miraculously won 3 free games in a row by blindly hitting a ball into a pinball-type maze) with a raisin-bran cookie topped with whipped topping, black raspberry ice cream, wet-walnuts, and some caramel sauce (or cairmel if you speak Pittsburghese). I don't typically boast, but for about six days, it wasn't bad work. Throw in a 6.5 hour golf outing (purely because of the 8 people team in front of us that wouldn't let us play thru, and kept losing clubs at previous holes, and a guy who literally shot sideaways, a.k.aa. "Mr. Athlete") at a club that shouldn't of let Duffy Mc. Duff play his first holes of the season on, it was a profitable adventure and much needed rest from the busy DC life. Now its off to decide how to properly spend my August....beer brewing....Dutch re-learning....and maybe a bit of N64 playing....sounds excellent.
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