In honor of our 13th wedding anniversary, my parents babysat on Thursday night so Hub and I could have a date. Always the info junkie, I perused the internet until I came up with the perfect place for our celebratory dinner — Maggie’s Restaurant in Bar Harbor. Two of every three reviews I read mentioned the lobster crepes, so I knew what I was having before we even left the lake.
We braved the chilly weather and took our time driving to Bar Harbor. Fortunately the rain held off. We stopped on the way at “our” coffee shop for a latte and an uninterrupted hour with the high speed internet.
And they say romance is dead.
Then we cruised on down to Bar Harbor and wandered around downtown for an hour or so before making our way to the restaurant.
Maggie’s is located off the beaten path in a quaint old clapboard house. Inside it was cozy and intimate. Which is nice, unless you have personal space issues, and then cozy and intimate suddenly becomes tight and confining. Guess who has personal space issues? But Hub pointed out that it was quiet, and that was certainly a plus.
We were greeted and seated immediately, even though we were about 15 minutes early. And I was thrilled when they put bread and oil on our table before even taking our drink orders. You could say I’m a bit on the impatient side, especially when it comes to food.
At the recommendation of our server, I started with a mojito made with homegrown mint. YUMMO. Hub got a blueberry beer — no lie. Turns out, there is NOTHING they don’t put blueberries in up here. He said it was actually quite good. Me, I’ve yet to meet a beer that doesn’t taste like urine so I didn’t try it.
My salad with goat cheese and pecans was fresh but not as flavorful as I had expected. Hub got smoked salmon which was OUT of this world. He was sweet enough to let me have two bites, even though he would have gladly kept it all to himself.
Then our entrees came. Hub has this crazy rule that he won’t order the same thing I’m ordering. I ordered the lobster crepes, as I had planned, so he got crabcakes. Was that ever a boneheaded move. The crabcakes were fine, but those lobster crepes were melt-in-your-mouth, to-die-for delicious. Or, as Hub put it, “I’m eating Ford, and you’re eating Rolls Royce.” Yeah, pretty much.
I even snapped a picture. It’s a bit blurry because I was hurrying as I got the impression that this wasn’t the sort of place where the patrons generally pull out electronic devices at the table. Although the distinguished-looking couple across from us actually answered their cell phone and talked for about five minutes in the middle of dinner. If that isn’t just beyond the pale, I don’t know what is. Because we were so
cramped cozy and intimate, I could hear every word. Evidently they were celebrating their 25th anniversary, and it sounded like they were talking to one of their kids. I know it’s rude to eavesdrop, but really, it was impossible not to overhear.
But I digress. Here’s the picture of my lobster crepe.
Omigosh, I am having hallucinations just looking at that. It contained the meat of a 1-1/4 pound lobster, and the brandy cream sauce must be the nectar of the gods. It was incredibly rich, and even after sharing half of one with Hub, I had a hard time finishing it. But finish it I did. Far be it for me to waste good food. That would be poor stewardship.
As if that wasn’t enough, they had the audacity to put a dessert menu under my nose, and I felt that it would be rude to decline, so I suffered through a rich, decadent “pot of chocolate”, which was pretty much exactly as it sounds. Even the coffee was good, and I am particular about my coffee.
After we paid the bill, we lumbered out the door and managed to get to the car without asking for assistance. I honestly thought they were going to have to take me out on a stretcher, I was so full.
This morning we’re going hiking, but we made a little pit stop along the way for a little sustenance. Guess where I’m sitting right now? I’ll give you a hint. I’m drinking a latte. Pretty soon they’re going to have a table with our name on it.
I hope the rain holds off. The sun keeps trying to poke through the clouds, which I’m choosing to take as a good omen. Our vacation is officially half over. Here’s hoping the second half is better than the first.