Living in Wells, Maine for the first two thirds of my life, I have had many touristy experiences. Southern Maine with the white sand beaches, fresh-fried-seafood stands on every corner, and homemade ice cream every 2 miles down Route 1 offers a certain kind of experience for a kid like me. (A chubby kid like me!)
We would hop in the car, Mom, Dad, Nathan, and I, off to where ever. Sometimes we'd travel west to Sanford, to avoid the crowd, other times to Aunt Jeanne's house to swim in the pool and BBQ. The less frequent, but most memorable were the trips into town when we would brave the crowd to enjoy the Southern Maine indulgences.
and crazy tourists for a taste of heaven.
Going out to dinner at exactly 5pm when Dad got out of work. Going out for ice cream at 9pm when hopefully the lines have died. Nothing like looking across the picnic table at my Mom and Dad eating their ice cream, we are all smiling. Dad's is gone first... He got his last, ordered the largest, and it disappears in mere seconds. (One of my fondest memories... waiting for the moment when his ice cream has just vanished!)
Big Daddy's. Scoop Deck. Billy's Chowder House. Maine Diner.
Congdon's. Need I say more?
If you've been to Wells, You have been to these places, driven past them when the wait is at least 2 hours. There are folks from Quebec and Massachusetts with sunburned faces, screaming children, and wacky tee shirts waiting in line to have the best of something in town.
In the car on the way to Aunt Jeanne's, I can't wait to play with my cousins but, I really want some black raspberry ice cream from Big Daddy's even more. The line was most often wrapped around the building and down the road which meant, no, another day Beth. Maybe next week. (Maybe next week?!?!)
Anyway, on those certain days when Mom and Dad had a true hankering for one of these special treats, we would brave the lines
and crazy tourists for a taste of heaven.Going out to dinner at exactly 5pm when Dad got out of work. Going out for ice cream at 9pm when hopefully the lines have died. Nothing like looking across the picnic table at my Mom and Dad eating their ice cream, we are all smiling. Dad's is gone first... He got his last, ordered the largest, and it disappears in mere seconds. (One of my fondest memories... waiting for the moment when his ice cream has just vanished!)
In the mean time, I have dripped ice cream down my shirt and Mom has gone to retrieve one of those little Styrofoam bowls so I can dump my cone in and not loose it in the dirt!
These memories are so important to me. Mom and I would plan to make Dad take us out to Scoop Deck, but it was never very hard to talk him into it. Dad almost always wore his work uniform out on Friday nights, hungry, tired, and in a hurry to get the family fed, off we'd go. His customers would smile and introduce themselves every where we went. Mom has a knack for finding friends in strangers... and also knew almost everyone in Wells to boot!
Anyway, I guess I am struggling with the point here... I have yet to start the coffee!
There was a special place called the Hitch in Wells, right across the street from school. My memories are so vague, yet I know this is where I was introduced to carrot cake. I am certain of this fact.
I am pretty sure that this place was only open for lunch?
Really, not sure. My Dad never joined us, it was just Mom and me.
We would eat soup and sandwiches, and sit at the window facing route 1 where I could see the school, right across the street.
Did we go there on early release days? Maybe on Mom's lunch break before I started school? Was I in kindergarten, and only went to school for a half a day anyway? I can't tell you for sure. Why didn't Dad ever come?
It is so random that I can't remember any details, but the memory of the carrot cake was so profound. It is places like the Hitch that makes Wells so special. It is the fact that despite the glitches within my mind, I still know, unconditionally, that they had the best damn cake I had ever eaten.
From the moment I tasted it, I remember wanting to have it again. I know we went there just for cake sometimes.
I know that because of the Hitch I have worked toward a masterpiece of carrot cake. You won't be surprised to know that I have found it. Here it is. Perfection.
Two stories. Who knows where I was going with this?
Here I guess:
(I better quit before things get worse!)
EAT CARROT CAKE AND BE HAPPY IN LIFE! We only get one chance - so they are right when they tell you to eat dessert first.
Also - if you want a second cupcake... have one... what if you die tomorrow never feeling fully satisfied with your carrot cake consumption?
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