Thursday Doors – Open

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We were exploring the south shore of Nova Scotia, looking for fishing villages and anything else that caught our attention. We couldn’t avoid paying attention to the massive traffic jam along the two-lane road going into LaHave. We thought all the people walking from all the cars lining both sides of the road were going to the bakery/eatery on the left – but we later found out the village was having their annual clam chowder lunch. We don’t fancy crowds so we drove on through.

We were driving back mid afternoon and most everyone had cleared out so we decided we would check out the bakery and see what they had for a late lunch. Besides the front looked so inviting with the red double doors with one open and the other with an open sign, the long line of Adirondack chairs in front of the windows, and flowers in boxes.

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Walking through that door was one of the highlights of our trip. Oh, the aroma of baking bread, of freshly brewed coffee, and the tempting pastries on the table just inside the door. And the pizza being kept warm by the cash register, that we bought for our lunch eaten at the counter along the front windows.

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And then as we walked down the back stairs to explore the gift shop with items from local artisans and a reading room/used book store, look what we found –

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Here’s wishing for you to find lots of doors that are open and lead to such delicious finds. We bought several items for our evening snack and for future culinary delights. Pure ecstasy.

This post is in response to Norm’s very fun weekly feature for people who love doors to post and enjoy their favorite doors from around the world.

 

 

Bakery Patrol

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We were driving from where we had been to where we were going in New England, driving over and around mountains and through small towns, the small towns that have a mechanic and someone who does roofing and a few houses. People who live there go to the next town for gas and groceries.

We suspected we were coming to that next town based on the font size of the name on the map – I was on bakery patrol. And there it was, on the right, big letters on the side of the building “BAKERY”. There was the Polish Princess Bakery, with 7 empty angled parking places in a row – just big enough for our truck and travel trailer with a space on each end left for other shoppers. It felt like a miracle.

On that day I became the Polish Princess. I had always been the Polish part, at least half of me, and I felt the Princess part was bestowed on me as I walked into the bakery. We decided to follow our routine to buy something to split at the empty table for two by the front window and something to split with our cup of tea after the veil of evening darkness had descended upon our cozy little traveling home.

Our choice to split in the bakery was a chocolate-filled croissant because neither of us can eat chocolate at night. It blocks the easy drift into slumber, even with the chamomile tea antidote. The dark chocolate filling was a perfect mate for the sweet, buttery pastry. We licked our lips, we moaned in joy, and we picked up crumbs with our moistened finger tips.

The real joy came that night when we split the apple-filled pastry. The crust was between a very good pie crust and a filo pastry, oh so flaky and tender and buttery. It was folded over real, not-out-of-a-can, apples that were still a little crunchy and sprinkled with just enough cinnamon and sugar to enhance the flavor of the apples while still allowing the apples to have the leading role. The Polish Princess was sorry she had to share half with her Prince.

 

The prompt from The Daily Post, flavorful, motivated me to write this post.

A Visit to a Bakery

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Photo buddy, Julie, and I sometimes wander around in the Amish areas close to where we live. As I have written before, I have a curiosity about their lifestyle. Also, our own neighborhood can feel mundane after a while and I seek the unique to photograph. Julie and I found this bakery in early spring, before they opened for the season. Because we love baked goods, a recent outing was kind of structured around returning.  On that outing I bought a cinnamon roll, raisin bread, and some molasses cookies. And I knew I needed to return.

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JB & I decided to go last Saturday morning because they serve coffee and sell fresh doughnuts on Saturdays. I decided that JB and I could split one because we are both watching what we eat and fried doughnuts aren’t on the okay list. I took one bite of the one he chose and was lost in total bliss. It went straight to the pleasure center of my brain – like I had stuffed it through a needle into a vein. No splitting one this time. I chose a sugar coated one, that was still a little warm and soft and yeasty inside.

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Fried Pies

They make a wonderful raisin bread that we had as french toast Sunday morning – a real treat. JB bought (and ate – but who is keeping track) one of their fried pies – not my favorite. The bakery is a part of a working Amish farm so we stood around outside eating our goodies, drinking coffee, and watching what was happening. And I took a few photos.

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Harnessed and waiting to work.

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Older son mowing the lawn

I wonder if going for a Saturday morning drive in the country will become a ritual? I think I can smell doughnuts and it is only Monday.

Tenakee Springs Surprise

Before we boarded the skiff taking us from the ship to the Tenakee Springs dock, we were told that the yellow building to the right of the dock was the bakery and they had internet service. The Captain had called ahead so the bakery would be open for us on this Sunday morning.

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I hadn’t had any type of connection in many days so I took my computer with me. I guess I was experiencing that painful connection withdrawal.

Tenakee Springs isn’t lacking for modern-day amenities, like emergency services

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public phone service – not sure what Alaskan’s in a town of 100 people consider local calls,

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a library right in the middle of town,

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and next to the library a farmers market – during harvest season. I didn’t want to speculate on the meaning of the flying pigs.

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But the jewel of Tenakee Springs is the

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My plan was to get a cup of tea and connect with the outside world on my computer for a few minutes. I walked in and knew I had found Alaskan gold.

Tenakee Springs 255I perched myself on a stool,

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and ordered one of those cinnamon rolls, sitting on the counter, emitting a freshly baked aroma – and a cup of tea.

Tenakee Springs 260 I broke off a piece of the warm roll and placed it on my tongue. Oh my, I have been looking for this experience for well over 20 year; since I last made my own cinnamon rolls. As the tender bread and sugar and cinnamon melted in my mouth, my whole body responded with ecstasy. I am not exaggerating. I put another piece in my mouth and the same thing happened. Pure nirvana.

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I savored my tea and roll while I grinned at the signs above the coffee cups: Women who behave rarely make history; I’ll have cafe, mocha, vodka, Valium,  latte to go, please; and, We trade coffee for gossip.

The latest gossip was that the people on the other side of the island want to build a road to Tenakee Springs but locals are fighting it – they don’t want the traffic. They also don’t want the car ferry stopping there. The young man has a four year old daughter – I think I saw her and her mom walking down the lane to visit daddy. She was dancing along in her bare feet.

Tenakee Springs 269This seems to be the where-it-is-happening place. It is the town’s restaurant, with a changing menu on the board. There is a projector hanging from the ceiling and they have a screen they hang over the lunch counter that makes it the local movie theater. If you remember the sign, at least one person believes the Part-Time Bakery should be the Party-Time Bakery. By the size of the speakers on the top shelf above the coffee cups, I think some dancing has gone down in here.

Along the walls they had some merchandise by local artists.

Tenakee Springs 268I scanned them and found the perfect poster size print for my guest bedroom. On the other side they had some hand-knit hats – one of my fellow passengers bought a couple. How nice to find keepsakes that are locally made.

I never took my computer out, but that seemed just fine. I was functioning in Alaskan culture. Many of the houses had dishes so people who live there are well connected to take them through the long, dark winters but I couldn’t think of anything more interesting on my computer than the Part-Time Bakery in Tenakee Springs, Alaska.

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Put another pan of those cinnamon rolls in the oven, I’m on my way back.