I know it's bad for me. I know I should be under a hat, heavily slathered in 50 SPF. But damn if a little color doesn't look good.
It's been perfect beach weather every day since arriving.
And perfect every night for eating well.
Tuesday, M and I go to BLEU. It's a small upscale restaurant in Mashpee Commons. Its food distinguishes it from the neighboring restaurants in the Commons. I don't go frequently, so when I do (once a year at most), I always order the same thing. Duck breast. It's incredible.
Wednesday I go back to Mashpee Commons. This time it's with my mom, my sister Jean and M.
We are eating at a well-reviewed and popular Greek restaurant called ESTIA. It's doing so well that soon they'll be opening another Estia in Falmouth Center. We order Greek salads, zucchini chips, lamb chops, moussaka, and a yogurt with honey for dessert. The dessert is simple and refreshing. Everything else is neither. My rack of lamb is seasoned with too much of a very sharp mustard — the kind that goes straight through your nostrils with every bite. Jean and M's grilled lollipop lamb chops are also overly spiced. And the salads, according to my mom (and she's right), are "a disgrace." The pizza looks good. If we ever go back (and that's a very big if) it'd be for the pizza.
Thursday my mom, her friend (and mine) Cindy, and I go to THE CHART ROOM. At least once a season we go, and I always order the same thing — baked stuffed, mess-free lobster. The claw meat is taken out and re-stuffed into the lobster. It's the absolute best way to eat a lobster.
And then last night, I join M and her family (Tobey, Harrison, Sam and Josie) at the hottest little converted diner in town, EPIC OYSTER.
This used to be a passed-over diner housed in a stationary trailer. Now it's an-always-busy-hard-to-get-a-reservation restaurant.
Before dinner, we order drinks. I get some kind of mixed cocktail mai-tai that is served in a two-piece metallic pineapple. We raise our glasses to toast and the bottom of my pineapple container separates from the top and the drink inside splatters all over Sam. Harrison aptly describes the mess; "It looks like baby throw up." Aside from that fiasco, dinner is great.
But five nights of good eating comes at a cost. The cute pair of tight jeans I purchased on Tuesday are being returned tomorrow.
It's been perfect beach weather every day since arriving.
And perfect every night for eating well.
Tuesday, M and I go to BLEU. It's a small upscale restaurant in Mashpee Commons. Its food distinguishes it from the neighboring restaurants in the Commons. I don't go frequently, so when I do (once a year at most), I always order the same thing. Duck breast. It's incredible.
Wednesday I go back to Mashpee Commons. This time it's with my mom, my sister Jean and M.
We are eating at a well-reviewed and popular Greek restaurant called ESTIA. It's doing so well that soon they'll be opening another Estia in Falmouth Center. We order Greek salads, zucchini chips, lamb chops, moussaka, and a yogurt with honey for dessert. The dessert is simple and refreshing. Everything else is neither. My rack of lamb is seasoned with too much of a very sharp mustard — the kind that goes straight through your nostrils with every bite. Jean and M's grilled lollipop lamb chops are also overly spiced. And the salads, according to my mom (and she's right), are "a disgrace." The pizza looks good. If we ever go back (and that's a very big if) it'd be for the pizza.
Thursday my mom, her friend (and mine) Cindy, and I go to THE CHART ROOM. At least once a season we go, and I always order the same thing — baked stuffed, mess-free lobster. The claw meat is taken out and re-stuffed into the lobster. It's the absolute best way to eat a lobster.
And then last night, I join M and her family (Tobey, Harrison, Sam and Josie) at the hottest little converted diner in town, EPIC OYSTER.
This used to be a passed-over diner housed in a stationary trailer. Now it's an-always-busy-hard-to-get-a-reservation restaurant.
Before dinner, we order drinks. I get some kind of mixed cocktail mai-tai that is served in a two-piece metallic pineapple. We raise our glasses to toast and the bottom of my pineapple container separates from the top and the drink inside splatters all over Sam. Harrison aptly describes the mess; "It looks like baby throw up." Aside from that fiasco, dinner is great.
But five nights of good eating comes at a cost. The cute pair of tight jeans I purchased on Tuesday are being returned tomorrow.
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