When I'm traveling, life is all about my next meal -- and sometimes the activity between just seems like the needs-must required to work up an appetite. I have three more days in Saratoga Springs -- famous spa and horse racing town -- and this morning I realized that my dearest friend Laurita and I were planning the next few days of eating with all of the seriousness and precision of a military campaign! Saratoga is such a great food town, and part of the problem is that I want to re-eat at all of the places we've already eaten at . . . not to mention the hot spots we haven't yet managed to visit! There just aren't enough meals in a day.
Yesterday we managed to fit in most of Laurita's sentimental favorites: cider doughnuts at Sutton's, ice cream at Martha's, and ribs at PJ's. (Laura is a harpist, and she has been visiting Saratoga for the last twenty years to "gig" at the Lake George Opera Festival.) We also managed to visit The Sagamore -- a beautiful old hotel on Lake George that makes you feel like you are one of the privileged few from the gilded age. We wanted to have lobster rolls on the deck, or tea on the terrace, or cocktails on the lawn . . . but we were too stuffed to take in anything but the breathtaking view of boats bobbing in the blue, blue water.
Everything in this Adirondack region feels slightly retro -- and even the tacky tourist bits are cute kitsch. It is like the best of Americana, preserved in the aspic of fresh air and pristine piney woods.
Last night I wanted to swoon with happiness. We were sitting outside, and the air was balmy. The moon was nearly full, and I swear it was the color of a tangerine. We were eating yummy, messy ribs, corn on the cob, and fried green beans. PJ was spinning old 50s tunes from the Everly Brothers and Elvis Presley. (Apparently you can find him on 880 AM radio, but Laurita swears that you lose WBBQ as soon as you leave the parking lot.) I felt as bubbly as Gidget -- minus the surfboard and Moondoggie. I could have stayed there forever, or at least a lot longer, but the junebugs started divebombing us and the kiddiewinkles started complaining.
I want to go again tonight, but we are supposed to be eating fried chicken at The Rock. Like I said, too much great food . . . not enough time.