Category: Travel

Indian Food Comes To Waterville

12/4/2014

Heavens. I haven't made a post since April? Ugh. Definitely makes the blog title ironic. I've been very busy with work, touring colleges, and real-world effort to build a creative economy in Waterville via Common Street Arts and Waterville Creates!. The exclamation point is actually part of the name, not overenthusiasm on my part - and thus the ! followed by a period. Something I don't think Strunk & White ever covered.
Anyway, what this post is about is The Jewel of India. (FB Page here) It's our new local Indian restaurant, braving the mercurial economic terrain of Waterville. I've eaten there twice and people keep asking how is it, so here's my answer. KennebecTom's official rating is "Awesome."

Simply, the food is delicious. Really delicious. As good as any Indian cuisine I've had - which is admittedly just a handful of places in a handful of cities.

Now, please be patient. They are mobbed and nearly over-loved right now. My wife and I had to wait for a table at lunchtime last weekend. As soon as I put the first bite of chicken biryani in my mouth, I knew the wait had been worth it. The garlic nan and vegetable samosa were fantastic.

So, when my wife won a "Teacher of the Quarter" vote at her high school, we celebrated by getting takeout. Well, it was quite a gauntlet I ran with good humor.
First, I tried calling from work for 20 minutes, but every time I got a message after two rings that the "user's mailbox had not been set up yet." Whaaaaat? I gave up and concluded an in-person order would have to be made.

I drove downtown and was only half-surprised to see every table occupied, people waiting, and the waitress busy with tallying a bill so I had to wait to report both the phone issue and place my order. Then I learned the wait would be 30 minutes. There was some communication difficulty due to language barrier, but at ethnic restaurants I consider this confidence inspiring. As you may recall, cornerstones of my immigration policy are that any foreigners can stay as long as they like if employed in cooking delicious foods of their country just like their grandma (or whatever their word is) taught them, or if volunteering to pay my income taxes.

I still had enough time before picking up a daughter at dance class, so I said fine and went across the darkened, wintery Main Street to check out the new Loyal Biscuit downtown and see if they carried my favorite cat litter. They didn't, but it's very nice inside and the clerk appeared to authentically have her own dog working the register with her.

Next I wandered down past Kringleville, set up beautifully in The Center in the front windows with a righteous Santa and helpers, but few children this early in the season. A beautiful, warm setup behind the picture windows it is. Much improvement over Santa's old shed with often muddy entrance of years past.

I walked down to Common Street Arts, just to make sure our snow removal guy did his job and had a chat with programming coordinator Lisa Wheeler, who is currently working hard to make this year's Holiday Bazaar even bigger and better than last year. Having satisfied these curiosities and savored the crisp night air amongst the historic buildings (some of which have watched over 123 prior Christmases), I strolled back to wait inside The Jewel.

The place was humming. I read the news, checked Facebook, and checked my email on my beloved iPhone, and chatted a bit with other customers, included several familiar faces. Some folks waited, some folks decided to try an alternative, but took a takeout menu with them. A quartet beside me began discussing the "Chinese restaurant around the corner" as a possibility, and I butted in that if they meant Jin Yuan, it is excellent and my favorite Chinese restaurant in town. They thanked me and took off, my opinion having clinched it, and I'll stand behind that opinion any day. It could have been a ruse to advance my position in line, but I'm not that kind of guy. It was an honest plan to drive business to another beloved restaurant in the downtown of course. I am that kind of guy.

So I stood and observed the slightly stressed young Indian man and two new waitresses confront their sudden and overwhelming popularity in a milder, culinary version of what Lorde must be going through. They have all the standard startup issues of any new restaurant - wonky phones, new procedures, untested systems, etc. I got my food, picked up my daughter, and finally made it home. And as soon as the first bite of chicken tikka masala and basmati rice hit my tongue, I made my popular "savory face" (lips pursed, eyes closed, face turned skyward), said "Mmmmm" and knew the wait was worth it.

I will stick with them for the long haul as long as they keeping cooking like this. It's delicious, fresh, and savory. I'm no regular culinary writer with a food-oriented thesaurus, so I'll have to leave it at that. They're a wonderful addition to Waterville's Downtown Dining District - as defined by yours truly.

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...a four hour tour.

10/2/2012

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So today I had four hours to thank my wonderful sister-in-law, Nikki, and her endurance driver friend, Amy, for driving my new (used) car out from Ohio to Maine. I wanted to show Amy, who had never been to Maine before, a small sampling of the best of Waterville and Winslow, and create a little fun for Nikki before we had to have them back to Portland Jetport for their flight.

So I picked them up at 9:00 AM, and KennebecTom's tour service proceeded to hustle to Fort Halifax Park. We parked, hopped out, and viewed the 1754 blockhouse and the nice new informational display. Then sauntered into the park far enough to see the beautiful lawn, trees, picnic tables, and Kennebec River. After a Ferris Bueller style contemplative silence, it was back to the car. I was spewing factoids about the river and the Fort. We drove back up Halifax Street, which I pointed out appears on maps from the late 1700s, and past the ancient headstones of Fort Hill Cemetery.

Then we crossed back over the Kennebec, discussing the Hathaway mill and stopped at Head of Falls, where we walked out onto the Two Cent Bridge, while I gave amateur tour guide info on the former paper mill, the bridge, and City Hall and the Waterville Opera House. Then it was back in the car and to our breakfast destination, Selah Tea Cafe. Good coffee and a delicious scone for me. Nikki, a tea lover, had something off the lengthy tea roster. I eyed the pleasant surroundings as a possible Atlantic Music Festival venue.

Then I decided to show them Barrels Market, so we started walking down Main Street in the cool fall air, but Holy Cannoli caught our eye. The ladies had never had cannoli, so we stopped in and got them three to sample. I chatted with the proprietor and made note of the ready-to-heat stromboli in the display case. Future lunch? Oh yes.

We stopped outside the Maine Made shop for a photo op with the giant stuffed moose. While that picture was being taken I was peering through the glass into the REM Forum, again thinking how the space might work for a chamber music performance. Then we made it across the street to Barrels. Something delicious must have been cooking because it smelled GREAT in there. Nikki loved the place, proclaiming that she'd shop there all the time if she could. I told her they'd love for her to move to Maine. Amy picked up a teeny-tiny jar of blueberry honey (that will comply with airline rules). I had never noticed, and was impressed by the hand-crafted soap that is sliced and sold by weight on the spot. Mostly, I reminded myself to come back soon for more Maine tinned herring.

Next, it was back in the car for more road-touring. Down Water Street so I could show them the Hathaway Creative Center building. Beyond that, I pointed out my demarcation line for the beginning of the "bad part of town", which is quaint compared to the bad parts of...say...Phoenix, Arizona. They were treated to a dual appearance of Shirtless Bob and Shirtless Rob, and I mentioned John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmitt. Well, they really lucked out, because after we wended our way back up to Silver Street, past my office, who should we see, but Die Ubersturmfuhrer himself, walking jauntily with his cane and pseudo East German military garb. Sort of military casual.

Back across the Carter Bridge, we took the back road to Augusta just to see the rolling countryside, some farms, trees changing color, historic houses, and the former Coburn Classical Institute building standing on the hill like a castle.

In Augusta, I swung them by Fort Western and around the State Capitol building. Then it was back to the turnpike, but just for a short bit. I wanted to stop and see something I've passed for the last 11 years. The Center for Maine Craft at the Gardiner Travel Plaza. I had always skipped it, thinking "craft" meant country hearts and angels motifs that I loath, and other JoAnn Fabrics kinds of nicky-nack stuff. I was disabused of this notion when I had a discussion with...well...either the director or an assistant director of the Center during an event at Common Street Arts.

It's not exactly salient, but in the travel plaza, nestled beside the Starbucks and Quiznos and Burger King, and through a glass door, is an amazing collection of the output of Maine's best artists and craftsmen (used in the Star Trekky non-gender specific sense). I couldn't really soak it all in in the limited time we had. Usually, I'd whip out my iPhone and photograph everything to share with you and to inspect more slowly later. But there were several signs saying no photography, so I respected that and tried to rely on my lousy 42-year old memory apparatus.

There was woodwork and furniture, and glasswork, and glassware, and textiles, and weavings, and clocks, and lamps, and paintings and photography, and jewelry and lots of beautiful stuff. Truly a wonderful collection, I thought, hmmm...wouldn't it be cool if a satellite branch was opened in downtown Waterville. The formula is already worked out and the contacts established. It could be located close to Common Street Arts to help build the much-sought-after critical mass.

I filed this place away as a viable Christmas shopping location and a gem to recommend to visitors, since they have to pass it to get to my house anyway, AND it's in the same building as a Starbuck's. Hello?!

But, back in the car and on to Portland it was, where I treated my benefactor drivers to Chinese food at my family's favorite Chinese restaurant in Portland - near the Mall and the airport - Imperial China. Mongolian Beef and hot tea for me. Nikki praised them for being the rare example of a place that, when she requests spicy, really makes it spicy.

And that was the end of the fateful four hour tour. I dropped the ladies curbside at the jetport and bid them the fondest of farewells - well, au revoir really, since we'll be seeing them in December.

On the drive back I communed with my new (used) Camry and we began forming that oh-so-important car-owner bond (probably like mountain men used to have with their horses - except you can't eat a car in a pinch). I reminded myself that I should repeat certain elements of this tour more frequently myself. And perhaps you should check them out on a more leisurely basis.

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Observations on New York City

8/13/2012

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I just spent a wonderful week in New York City; my second visit to this extraordinary place. Thanks to our wonderful principal underwriter - my mother-in-law - we had the luxury of taking in Newsies, Peter & The Starcatcher, Phantom of the Opera, and (except I declined) Evita. All were amazing. I spent the Evita time at the Museum of Modern Art, where I communed with many paintings and photos I spent years of undergraduate school analyzing and memorizing. We also checked out the Central Park Zoo and rode the free ferry by Lady Liberty. My daughters danced one morning at the Broadway Dance Center, and we took tours of Juilliard and New York University. Both of those institutions wowed us. NYU even motivated my wife and I to long to go back to college.

But, on both trips, one of my favorite things to do in New York is just walk and wander. And I have a lot of deep thoughts. New York is an incredibly efficient way to package humanity. Every block is a little city in itself, with most everything you need to live your life. The supply chain is amazing. Huge trucks navigate narrow congested streets. Other huge trucks take out trash. There seems to be scaffolding on every block and always something under construction over your head. New York City is not done. There are new skyscrapers under construction everywhere.

The oldest buildings fascinate me most. I marvel that the builders took the pains to adorn out-of-reach rooftops with elaborate sculptures and architectural flourishes. They seem from a time when pride outshone utility. I wonder what is up in the top floors, nestled in the uppermost turrets and under the peaked dormers. I am in awe at the histories they house. I have so far searched in vain for some kind of book, titled something like "100 Top Floors Of New York Skyscrapers." I don't want one about super-luxurious penthouses. Blah. I want one about the mysterious, ornate historic building tops. And my favorite of all New York buildings is The Flatiron. The first time a saw it was in this 1904 photograph by Edward Steichen - The Flatiron - in my history of photography class at the University of Arizona. A reproduction of this photo hangs in my office. On our last visit to NYC, I made a pilgrimage and stood near the exact spot the photo was taken from. I could hear the hooves of the carriage horses in my mind, and though no longer the tallest building in view, The Flatiron is still the most awe-inspiring.

The three most common sites in NYC must be cabs, police, and signs. And there are so many signs that they actually become imperceptible - visual background noise. I mostly ignore them and look in store windows to determine what kind of place it is and what they carry.

Driving survival: Drive with purpose. In Manhattan, to show indecisiveness earns scorn. Drive with conviction. If you're going to miss your turn, do it boldly. Just keep going and come around the block and try again. But don't dawdle and peer with craned neck.

Front fender rule: whoever has their front fender ahead of the other has the right of way. Just put your blinker on and move over. To hell with everyone behind you. Corollary, if someone has their front fender ahead of you and starts moving over, don't take offense or honk, just yield and let them go.

Walking survival: Pedestrian crossing signals matter. Many cab drivers are seemingly psycho. Green light - they floor it, weaving in and out, cutting across 3-4 lanes, accelerating through intersections. Red light - they nose-dive the car with the brakes. You know how, when watching Iron Man, there's a part of you that thinks, well even if the suit was capable of making turns and accel/decelerating that quickly, no human could have reflexes that fast? Wrong. New York cab drivers do. And the suit is a Crown Victoria. Yet pedestrians and cabbies alike heed the pedestrian crossing signals. If it says walk and you step in front of a cab, they wait complacently. If you step out on don't walk, they will honk, curse you out, and lurch the car at you for emphasis. Never cross against the light unless you're suicidal or very, very daring, athletic, and observant. That is how 40 mph cars, giant trucks, buses, bicycles, pedi-cabs and pedestrians coexist without a high death count. And I recommend really waiting for the walk light. Sometimes it's been a few second since a car flew by and some jackass walks right out like he knows what he's doing and everyone follows suit. Then - surprise! The cross-traffic still has the green light and all hell ensues.

Don't make eye contact with other approaching pedestrians. You will collide. Look beyond the people in front of you, at your destination. Then, like magic, the hordes melt away before you, or flow around you like water around a stone in a stream.

Generally, don't worry. There is nothing you can do to be safer. Just follow my rule above about pedestrian crossing signals and that's all you can do. All of New York City is implausible. The buildings are too tall to stand. The crowds are so big they'll trample you. The water supply can't be sustained. The electrical grid should fail any second. A cab should careen onto a sidewalk full of people. Race riots should break out any second. A piece of building or an air conditioner should fall on your head. Except none of that happens. Everything just goes on okay. And if you did worry, it doesn't matter. There is nothing you can do. So a sort of liberation sets in.

You can walk around with sound isolating earbuds listening to music with no problem. There's nothing you really need to hear. There's so much noise, that if someone actually honked at you - or a siren came, or gunfire, or shouts of warning - it wouldn't matter. It would all blend in to the background noise. And this I confirmed: if you want a magical NY menagerie moment, put on the earbuds (or full headphones) and put Gershwin on the iPod - either Rhapsody in Blue or An American In Paris - and just watch the people, cars and buildings as you walk. Suddenly, you notice every face, every expression, odd outfit, and impassioned gesture. Everyone becomes a character in an elaborate ballet. That Gershwin could capture the pulse of city life with sound is amazing - and that rhythm remains the same 88 years later.

The City is an amazing place. One worth visiting for all people, just to have had the exposure to the distillation and concentration of all humanity's dreams and efforts. There are many places I've visited and never desired a return, or visited numerous times and worn out everything I care to see. New York is not one of those places. I'm already looking forward to another visit in April, albeit with a group of high school drama and music students in tow. And I'm confident I'll be visiting periodically for the rest of my life.

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Indian Food Comes To Waterville

...a four hour tour.

Observations on New York City

The Daily Consternation
covering Maine, music, and more.

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Indian Food Comes To Waterville

...a four hour tour.

Observations on New York City

The Daily Consternation ​covering Maine, music, and more.

Author

Topics

Archives

The Daily Consternation
covering Maine, music, and more.