The State of Things in the State of New Hampshire.

A lot of people have asked why the hell Stephanie and I found ourselves in obscure, small towns in Massachusetts and New Hampshire. Most "vacations" to that region tend to include metropolitan stops, historical landmarks, and the Cape. The best response to the curiosities remains the basic need to briefly escape California and the steamrolling effect of the summer schedule at major law firm. But to choose this region as the destination for our summer trip illustrates our preference for bed and breakfasts, walkable places of interest, and the chance to, should we want, do nothing at all.

With those things in consideration, a trip from Boston to Portsmouth, west to Manchester, then south to Amherst begins to make sense. This slice of the east also offers a combination of gorgeous scenery, myriad walkable sites and shops, and progressive approaches to food, drink, and leisure. Like a number of more driven pockets of the country, trendier towns in New Hampshire and Massachusetts seem focused on catering to locavores and offering organic products and farm-to-table food.

Rather than provide a summary of the places we slept and ate, however, I want to focus on how this Northeasterner mindset affected one particular experience. (I can give you the lowdown on all the other details, if you are interested.) We zoom in on the morning following our first night at the Bedford Village Inn.

Zoom closer.

Closer!

There we go!












Our spread included a small kitchenette, something the lodging description signified as a "convenience kitchen." I don't know what that means, but perpetual restauranting in a place of such abundance for the consumer started to seem illogical. I took the availability of a stove and an oven to mean that I could, if I felt so inclined, use the facilities to explore the culinary potential of the local landscape.

Despite the presence of the kitchen, our cupboards contained nothing beyond the standard flatware necessary for in-room dining. Thus, at our complimentary continental breakfast, I delicately inquired as to the possibility of procuring a pot and pan to prepare a locally inspired, "home-cooked" meal. No problem, I was assured. Sounds like fun, even.

Newly liberated by the absence of a hard and fast dinner reservation, Stephanie and I spent the better part of the day traipsing through the Lakes Region, mulling the possible local goodies we could purchase and enjoy later that evening. Thanks to our handy travel guide, we settled on Moulton Farm, where, inspired on-site, I concocted a plan involving green beans, tomatoes, zucchini grown on site, as well as some house-made granola. I also found some plump plums, nectarines, and an organic yogurt from nearby in Canada. For protein, Moulton offered a selection from Sal's Fresh Seafood, a Boston company who set up a small booth outside the market. Despite the options, I realized how foolish it would be to pass on spectacular cod filet, caught that morning and tailored for our tastes.

Notice the sharp dicing knife I found in the kitchenette.







A solid pound of fish!











Ingredients in tow, we made our way back to the Inn and ambled over to the afternoon wine and cheese hour. After a nice glass of house red, I set out to obtain the hardware needed to put together my regional dish. Upon inquiry, I was promptly refused the items I had been formerly promised. "Only industrial supplies on site," I was told. "Mistaken," was the earlier information. "Convenience kitchen," I was reminded.

It should be said here and now that free wine does devious and wonderful things to people. When on couples this with the tone set by driving around behind New Hampshire license plates that pridefully claim to "Live Free or Die," and wine hour turns into an easy way to enjoy (read: smuggle) wine well past the allotted hour. Simply pour wine into paper coffee cups located in the same room as the wine glasses, cover the cups with heat-trapping lids, and easily and inconspicuously transport hooch back to your room for dinner. Live Free or Die, indeed.

Once back in the room, I made a phone call, asked for the manager, and quickly received the supplies I was promised.


Without oil or butter to facilitate the cooking process, I ended up pan frying the zucchini in water flavored with salt and pepper while boiling the green beans (4 quick minutes). After draining the water, I added the diced tomatoes and warmed the concoction on medium for another couple of minutes.

Along with the wine, we pocketed a number of crackers which I intended to use to make bread crumbs for the cod. But without a coagulate, a lot of hard went essentially went for naught.

Stolen crackers.

Making bread crumbs by smashing crackers between two bowls.


















Unbreaded, here's the meal just before plating. It actually looked pretty good. The fish cooked quite quickly in the remaining zucchini water and relatively low heat. I added the remaining diced tomatoes and used a spooning technique to add heat to the exposed portion of the fish.








Just before we sat, I added the yogurt and granola to the diced fruit, which made a sweet fruit salad to compliment the other components.







The inspiring setting, the sweet and sour staff at the Bedford Village Inn, a vacationer's industriousness, and the collective desire for happiness all worked out in the end. After our meal, the turn-down service provided two chocolate chip cookies, which completing an otherwise healthy meal by providing some sugary sweetness. And the free wine was fine, as you might imagine. 

All told, our time in and around Bedford, Manchester, and the Lakes Region provided ample opportunities to savor all the good things the Northeast has to offer.