"Just make sure you serve Maine lobster."

I think it’s safe to say that China’s President Hu Jintao must like lobster from Maine; a great deal of research and preparation go into these affairs, and the menu items are carefully chosen. Thirteen years ago, when the last state dinner was served to Hu’s predecessor Jiang Zemin, the menu also included Maine lobster.

The theme for the menu this time was “Quintessentially American” and was specifically requested by the Chinese delegation. The full menu is below, courtesy of drvino.com:

The complete dinner menu

D’Anjou Pear Salad with Farmstead Goat Cheese
Fennel, Black Walnuts, and White Balsamic

Poached Maine Lobster
Orange Glaze Carrots and Black Trumpet Mushrooms
Dumol Chardonnay “Russian River” 2008

Lemon Sorbet

Dry Aged Rib Eye with Buttermilk Crisp Onions
Double Stuffed Potatoes and Creamed Spinach
Quilceda Creek Cabernet “Columbia Valley” 2005

Old Fashioned Apple Pie with Vanilla Ice Cream
Poet’s Leap Riesling “Botrytis” 2008

from http://www.drvino.com/2011/01/19/state-dinner-menu-hu-jintao-quilceda-creek

I enjoy the thought of all those dignitaries dealing with shells and flooded plates, but something tells me the chefs figured out some way to spare heads of states from the usual lobster mess. Did President Hu wear a plastic bib? Someone knows, but they’re not talking. I have to comment on the black walnuts. This blows me away; I thought I was one of only about 10,000 Americans who love black walnuts. You can’t even buy them in Maine. They’re a Midwest thing I guess.

President Clinton’s dinner for Jiang Zemin in 1997 featured chilled lobster in tarragon sauce, probably not bib-worthy. The Bush Jr. administration didn’t like formal state dinners and never hosted one for Hu, much to his disappointment.

The thing about lobster is that  it can be as formal or as casual as you like. Here in Maine don’t expect white tablecloths and fine china. Most of the time you get a plastic bib and a bag of chips with your lobster, probably not fit for a visiting head of state. On the other hand, former President Jiang has been known to grab the mike and sing impromptu renditions of Elvis tunes. He seems more the plastic bib kind of guy.

Maine lobster has made the cut for a classic American food for many White House meals. It’s nice to know something from Maine has that status. It also happens to be one of the more sustainably harvested seafoods too.

Frontenac Gris, growing at Dragonfly Farm and Winery

On Wednesday, January 12, in the midst of a wild blizzard, I visited the Dragonfly Farm and Winery on my way back from Vermont. There to greet me was the owner Todd Nadeau, who with his wife Treena grow grapes on two or three acres of gravelly Maine soil. What makes this winery unique in Maine is that all the grape wines are produced exclusively from grapes grown right on the farm. There is no option or inclination to buy grapes from other areas, in or out of Maine. That means this is the only commercial Maine winery where the wines can be said to offer the taste of the farm, a taste referred to as the “terroir”. The reason this is possible is that the winery is operated as a “hobby farm”, Todd and Treena have day jobs, so income from the winery doesn’t need to pay the mortgage, and we are the beneficiaries.

Todd Nadeau

Todd and Treena are both full-time Maine Air National Guardsmen, Todd a Lieutenant Colonel and Treena a Master Sergeant. Todd’s  inspiration to become a vintner started with his frequent military-related trips to the Moselle river area of Germany. Here he was practically forced to taste the local wine. Having never been a wine drinker, he was amazed at the taste and suddenly found his (second) calling.

German wines are made from varieties such as Riesling, Gewürtztraminer and Müler-Thurgau but these varieties can’t make it in Maine’s climate, even though we’re further south. Todd and Treena set about to find hybrid varieties which can tolerate our climate but produce wines which recall that first taste in Germany. The chosen white grape varieties are La Crescent, St Pepin, Frontenac Gris, Louise Swenson, Praire Star, Edelwiess and a few new ones which only have numbers. On the red side are St Croix, Sabrevoix, Frontenac and Concord. Other fruits yield to Todd and Treena’s winemaking skills: blueberries, blackberries, cranberries, raspberries and plums.

My two favorites are the Clarity, made from the La Crescent grape and Shorty, made from Frontenac Gris. The full list of Dragonfly wines can be accessed at their website, mainewinegrower.com. This time of year there are not many wines for sale and no grape wines at all, but on Maine Maple Sunday, March 27, Clarity, St Pepin, By the Numbers (made from the Elmer Swenson 7-11-22 variety) and Serendipity will be bottled and available for sale. You’ll notice from the photo that the winery is very limited in production and be advised that wines sell out fast. What is available on March 27 may not be around for long.

Speaking of Serendipity, that’s exactly what led me to this gem of a winery and many thanks to Todd, Treena and Todd’s mom Rita for the chance to visit. The weather was awful but the winery was an inspiration to those of us hoping for a healthy grape wine industry in Maine. I’ve heard many say that it can’t be done, but now I know better.

Dragonfly Farm and Winery is located just 20 miles from Bangor in Stetson, Maine, not far (8 miles) from exit 167 on US 95. Take Rt. 143 north and turn left onto Mullen Rd (Rt. 222). The winery is at 1069 Mullen Rd on the left, but you might want to call ahead to arrange a visit at 296-2226/2229.

Maine shrimp

Few visitors to the Bar Harbor area realize that Maine has a shrimp season. This is because it happens in winter. Our shrimp are not what you would expect from the Gulf of Mexico, they are smaller, sweeter and lack the iodine flavor. In fact, they are a totally different species with the lofty sounding Latin name of Pandalus borealis. Gulf shrimp are either Penaeus setiferus, Penaeus aztecus or  Penaeus duorarum. Think of Maine’s wild blueberries compared to the larger cultivated type and that’s a good way to think of our shrimp too.

David Gardener, near Ellsworth Giant Sub on Rt. 3

While our native shrimp take a back seat to our more famous Crustacean, the Atlantic lobster, there are plenty of reasons not to forget this winter bounty. First, it’s local. It comes from the cold, clean water off the Maine coast. Second, the Maine shrimp fishery is sustainable. Catches are tightly regulated, closely monitored  and robust. Finally, Maine shrimp is very affordable and fresh. Around here, the usual way to buy is from the back of a pickup truck or van, unfrozen, along the roadside, although our supermarkets have them too. From David Gardener (on 2 January 2011), the shrimp can be bought with the heads on for $1.50 per pound. We bought 5 pounds, and when we cleaned them we ended up with about 2 pounds of meat, so this worked out to $3.75/ lb with shells, heads and eggs left over for stock.   David also offers cleaned shrimp for $6.00/lb.

Speaking of roe, why are all Maine shrimp roe-bearing females? Funny you should ask. Pandalus borealis start out as males and remain so for two years as they hatch and morph through larval stages. As they mature they head for deep water where they mate with females. Then something weird happens. By year 3 these males become females and produce eggs. They head back to the shallow waters in winter to spawn and that’s when they are likely to be caught.

The best way to cook Maine shrimp is to boil or fry very quickly, a half minute in small quantities, and add to whatever dish at the last minute. Over cooking is the primary mistake in preparing Maine shrimp. Some even like to eat them raw or seviche style.  Traditionally, Mainers like them battered and deep-fried. Chowders work well too.

Maine shrimp is shipped in limited quantities down the coast to New York City and beyond, and generates culinary excitement in the larger markets. This time of year food sections of major eastern newspapers brim with the news and recipes. Here are a few: Washington Post, The Portland Press Herald, New York Magazine, The Boston Globe, The Bangor Daily News. Maine harvests about 9 million pounds on average of shrimp, about 1/8 of our lobster harvest, and people who appreciate this delicacy know the season is short (136 days) and sweet.  Seize the moment!

Underside of egg-bearing female Homarus americanus.

No, I’m not talking about the latest infestation, I’m talking about the one to four pound underwater variety which just about every visitor likes to see on his or her plate. The Maine lobster, Homarus americanus, leads a fascinating life. It starts with the female excreting her egg mass into her rows of abdominal flippers, “swimmeretes”, and gluing them there with a bio-adhesive, which she happens to also excrete. At this point a pretty weird fertilization occurs. A few weeks or more back the male lobster gave her a few packets of sperm which she stashed in a pouch and plugged. Now she pulls them out (older females can hold more and can fertilize several broods with one mating). The eggs stay glued under mom for 9 to 12 months. During this time the embryonic lobsters shed about 35 times.  Shedding is what lobsters do in order to grow, otherwise their shells become prisons. During this time the mother lobster must not shed, or the eggs will be lost. Her important job is safeguarded by Maine lobster fishers. Not only will they not take an egg-bearing female, they will mark her with a notch so that no one else takes her after she’s released her eggs.

Each time they shed, the tiny lobsters take a more developed form. When they finally hatch they are free swimming, propelling themselves with paddlelike appendages to the surface, where the wind moves them with the top layer of water, dispersing them like dandelion fluff. After a few more molts the free swimmers sink to the bottom in search of a safe home. By now they resemble tiny lobster, with tiny claws, antennae and legs. They are now “post larvae”. At this time it is important that the correct habitat is available on the sea floor–not sand, not clay, not ledge, but cobbles—medium sized stones. This is one of the big surprises of recent research, and perhaps the limiting factor to Maine’s lobster population.

If they survive they will continue to shed and grow. At first the shedding rate is blistering, but after a few years they settle into one or two sheds per year. It is at this time they enter adolescence, ready to mate and have eggs of their own. If they survive to over five inches in carapace length–male or female–they are considered “breeders” and can live long, productive lives, free from the dinner table. The egg bearing capability of a female is geometrically related to her size, so older females can really crank out the babies.

Over the course of the year, lobster migrate back and forth between deep and shallow water. The deep water stays warmer in the winter. Lobster move slowly in the cold, deep water and so don’t eat much. When things warm up they’re ready to move inshore and shed. It is at this time they also mate. Both deep and shallow places require housing, not only for safety from predators, but also from each other. They like to back into dark places and stick their antennae out. The perfect apartment even has a back door to escape through. Bigger males pick frequent fights to establish dominance and become alpha males, mating with multiple females. Both sexes require a safe place to shed. For a while their new body is like jelly and they can’t even stand.

So housing is important. Different bottoms offer different housing types to different age groups. One big concern of lobster fishers is that well-meaning government scientists may increase the size limit on lobster so that they may need bigger apartments. This may mean a lack of proper housing, resulting in greater mortality or migration to different areas. The end result could be a lower lobster population and smaller catches. File this in the unintended consequences section.

A lot of work, science and conservation goes into Maine’s sustainable lobster industry. Celebrate these efforts by having a lobster dinner tonight. Better yet, come to Maine and see what it’s all about.

Thanks to: The Secret Life Of Lobsters by Trevor Corson, Dr. Alistair M. Dove, U. of  N.H. and Maine Department of Natural Resources for photos.

Here on Lamoine’s shore, 8 miles from Bar Harbor, the mackerel schools show up with the warm weather and the tourists. While not as thick as in Belfast, an hour southwest, our local mackerel is certainly worth pursuing. In fact, it takes so little in effort and investment, it’s the cheapest seafood you can get. And they’re fun to catch too.

It must be said, the beauty of the fish, with its classic streamlined shape and iridescent purple coloring is somewhat unmatched by its culinary appeal. The meat is oily,  sort of mushy and strongly flavored. Not the premier dining experience, but even sushi chefs serve it. The mackerel is related to the tuna and bluefish, so it has good heritage, and the fishery is reasonable healthy. Some folks find the taste quite good, especially when fresh, and the meat is high in vitamin B12 and omega 3 fatty acids. Also, unlike their larger cousins Northern Atlantic mackerel are very low in mercury, and can be eaten at least twice a week according to EPA guidelines.

Catching mackerel couldn’t be easier or more fun. The most humble of fishing pole and reel are adequate and the classic “four drop” mackerel rig can be bought anywhere for a few dollars. This rig has four hooks arranged with colorful sleeves and the impression is that when you reel in, all hooks will have a fish. This may be optimistic, but I have had more than one on occasion. Add a weighted hook at the bottom for easier casting.  Spoons or bare hooks can also be used. Bait is often a cut up mackerel, but where do you get cut up mackerel before you catch the first one? Start out with whatever meat is in your fridge: a hot dog, a chicken bit or a shrimp. Or, just ask the guy fishing next to you on the dock for a bit of mackerel.

Mackerel move and feed only at certain times. The tide has a big effect on their feeding behavior and it’s best to ask around for the local knowledge. If you go to the Lamoine State Park, just glance at the floating dock to see if anyone’s fishing. This is the best mackerel spot around, so just monitor the activity there and you will have success. Alternately, throw a line overboard while sailing or kayaking, but be ready for a fight. Mackerel are feisty fish and may pull your small boat quite a distance before they tire.

Keep your fish alive or on ice as soon as possible to preserve their texture. They can be simply grilled but are especially good smoked. I have done this by placing cherry sticks under the grill of my gas barbecue, heating them until they flame and then shutting off the gas. The fish are high enough to not be reached by the flame (on the upper grill). When the wood is burned, the fish are usually done, but if not the gas can be relit for a few minutes. Enjoy a meal of Maine mackerel, Maine potatoes and Maine sweet corn!

The Maine Lobster Council claims on their website that, “The World’s Finest Lobster Comes from Maine”. In August of 2006 they started a program of affixing sticky labels (don’t get me started on sticky labels) identifying Maine lobsters which were destined for out-of-state delivery as “Certified Maine lobster”. There was quite a backlash. It didn’t help that the then MLC executive director, Kristin Millar said,

“Make sure your lobster is from Maine, don’t buy an impostor lobster.”

from ROBERT F. BUKATY/The Associated Press

This example of uncharacteristic Maine arrogance prompted an editorial in the Boston Globe by Brian Mcgrory on 18 Aug, 2006 titled, “Tasty Testing”, in which he ruthlessly and rightfully ridiculed the remark. Mr. Mcgrory even went so far as to do his own double blind study involving two groups of lobsters, one from Maine and the other from Massachusetts, and some Boston area chefs. (This is the kind of research I like.) The chefs chose the Massachusetts lobster as often as the Maine lobster, basically a tie. The conclusion was that Massachusetts lobster was a little sweeter, Maine saltier and with a stronger flavor. Mcgrory sums it up with,

So in a scientific study, it comes out a tie, reason enough to ignore Maine’s obnoxious stunt.

Well, I would much prefer Maine to not have a reputation for obnoxious people than have a faux better lobster. After all, there is no state line on the sea floor which lobsters cross at their peril, becoming instantly less flavorful. The whole idea is pretty silly.

To be fair I went to the MLC website to see if they backed up their claim. The closest they get to it is to state that the American lobster, Homarus americanus, which they have unilaterally renamed the “Authentic Maine Lobster”, is better because all the rest “are merely wannabes” (like the Caribbean spiny lobster), “have no claws and thus no delectable claw meat.” No claims about how our waters are cleaner or colder. In fact, since the Massachusetts lobster is also Homarus americanus, it is therefore, “Authentic Maine Lobster”, so using our powers of logic, those lobsters caught by Massachusetts are really OUR lobsters who have strayed over two state lines.

Now that I have thrashed the Maine MLC, let’s revisit the subject without obnoxious marketing slogans or annoying food stickers. Is Maine lobster better? My answer is a qualified yes, for this simple reason: Our sustainability. Maine is on track to obtain approval from the England-based Marine Stewardship Council (M.S.C.) to be certified as sustainable. This process is long and expensive and is almost over, with certification expected in 2011. We must be doing something right. I go into the reasons here. Maine Lobster fishers are plentiful and inefficient. This is a good thing; many folks are employed and the wealth of the industry is more or less equitably distributed. There are very few poverty-line sweat-shop lobster jobs. The inefficiency means that it takes more jobs to bring lobster to your table than it would if giant factory ships dragged massive baskets across the sea floor. And above all, the resource is respected and well managed. Even the ropes used on traps have been recently replaced at great cost to prevent entanglement with right whales. So you can feel good about eating Maine lobster. I’m not claiming Massachusetts or New Brunswick lobster tastes inferior in any way, just that Maine lobster has a lot going for it. Without stickers.

For a short video about sustainability in the Maine lobster industry click here.

The lobster supply off our Bar Harbor shores has been growing over the past several decades, but the economics of Maine’s lobster industry will always result in a hefty price for lobster. I reported in an earlier post that a typical price for the picked meat was around $35.oo per pound in 2010.  I recently paid $30 per pound for frozen local claw meat from Hannaford supermarket in Ellsworth. Lobster fishers spend lots of time and diesel fuel in pursuit of their quarry. They also contend with streaks of low yields followed by booms. Finally, they have to return to the sea up to 80% of the lobster in their traps because of conservations measures which I discussed here. This all adds up to a price beyond the daily budget for family meals. So Maine lobster is an infrequent treat, but is it a healthy food? And what about the ethics of cooking lobster?

The Secret Life of Lobsters by Trevor Corson is a book which answers many questions about lobsters in an engaging semi-fictional way, and has an appendix devoted to lobster as a food called “How to cook a lobster”. In it he dispels the myth that lobster is as rich a food as the price may suggest. The problems occur when you dip the meat in butter. By itself, lobster meat is more healthful than beef or even chicken breasts, containing twenty and thirteen times less fat respectively. Vitamins are plentiful: A, B12 and E; calcium, phosphorus and zinc and plenty of omega-3 fatty acids. Just avoid the tomalley (the liver, or “green stuff”) and lobster is a darn near perfect protein source, unless you need to limit sodium. The tomalley is actually a benefit, because it makes the lobster meat free from red tide or other environmental toxins. Consider a pasta sauce with lobster to avoid unhealthy fat.

So what about the humane treatment question? How humane can it be to plunge an animal into boiling water? Again according to Corson, scientists make arguments both ways as to whether lobsters feel pain. One argument against is that lobsters and other invertebrates do not “act pained” when losing a limb or inflicted with other injuries. The actions of a lobster upon being dropped into boiling water is standard escape response. Corson goes on to say that scientists have found little evidence that the lobster’s nervous system is more sophisticated than that of an ant, housefly or mosquito. He concludes by saying that the typical lobster will cease activity after 60 to 90 seconds of being dropped into the pot, and that this can be shortened to twenty seconds by first chilling the lobster to dormancy in the freezer for a few minutes.

Assuming you are now ready to plan your lobster dinner, there is one more detail you should know. Lobsters develop toxins within several hours of death, so make sure yours are still alive before you cook them. If you want a quicker death, you can employ Julia Child’s trick and dispatch them with a knife plunged behind the head. That’s what has to happen if you broil or grill them. If you’re still too squeamish, find a recipe which calls for cooked meat and you can buy it pre-picked for about $35.00 per pound. And if you want the real Maine lobster experience, stay with us and use the 5 gallon pot to cook them in. We are now accepting reservations for 2011.

If anything in Lamoine, Maine can be called ubiquitous, it is the apple tree. Most yards have at least a couple, either on the lawn proper or somewhere along the periphery, and more than a few can also be seen along the roadside on state Highway 184, where about this time each year, they let go their holdings all over the road, to lie like billiard balls until they are squashed by passing cars or scooped up by wily crows. “Apples, apples everywhere,” as it were.

Grinding is the first step. Photo courtesy of Douglas C. Jones

Apologies to Samuel Taylor Coleridge for co-opting his “Rime of the Ancient Mariner,” but after watching nearly every species of wild bird and animal in Lamoine, from gulls to crows to fox to squirrels to porcupines to deer (even Labrador Retrievers get in on the act) gorge themselves on fallen apples throughout the Autumn, a few local humans got a little jealous and decided to appropriate some of this fruit for themselves.   These are our yards, after all, where the trees have taken root.   So recently, on a cold but sunny afternoon, about 7 friends brought many bags of apples, gleaned mostly from their yards and a nearby pick-your-own apple farm, to a house on Walker Road,  where the owners are in possession of a wonderful antique Jaffrey Manufacturing Company apple press.

The pulp is pressed. Photo courtesy of Douglas C. Jones

Prior to this get-together, we were encouraged simply to “get out there in your yards and jostle with the wildlife for your rightful share of apples.   And don’t be finicky.   Pick up any variety you find, even some crab-apples.”   As a preliminary step in the manufacture of our cider, we laid our many plastic bags of apples around the Jaffrey press for easy access, because once the pressing process starts, it moves apace.     The apple press has a small hopper with a wooden lid, a top-mounted corkscrew T-Bar, and a side-mounted hand-crank wheel.     Underneath the hopper, a bucket lined with burlap is placed to receive all the discard of the grinding apparatus on the press.     A volunteer with a strong arm is placed at the grinding wheel, and after the apples are washed, they are tossed willy-nilly into the hopper.     The person at the hand crank rotates the wheel rapidly and relentlessly.   Another person holds the small hopper lid on top of the tumbling apples, all the while pressing downward to keep the apples in contact with the ruthless blades.   As the apples are forced into contact with these rotating blades by pressure from the hopper lid, they are shredded into bits and come out into the waiting burlap-lined bucket.   There are chunks, cores, stems, seeds, and the odd leaf, but not to worry, as all these elements of refuse are snagged by the burlap.   When the burlap gets full, the cranking ceases, much to the relief of the volunteer, and a circular lid is placed on top of the scrap mound.   Next, the T-bar at the top of the press is lined up directly over this lid and cranked down tightly, squeezing cider through the burlap onto a slightly inclined rectangular wooden tray with a drain hole.   Under the drain hole, a bucket is placed to receive the apple juice.

Photo courtesy of Douglas C. Jones

When the burlap-lined bucket gets full of apple parts, and no more cranking of the T-bar is productive, the cranking is ceased, and the bulging burlap is lifted out of the bucket.     The scraps can be discarded in various ways, of course, but in this case, our host had designated a small area behind his house as a compost pile.     The burlap got carried over to that pile and emptied as compost.   The burlap was then shaken out a bit and fitted back into the wooden bucket beneath the hopper.     Meanwhile, each bucket of collected apple juice was decanted through a funnel, lined with cheesecloth (the second stage of a double filtration process), into standard plastic (previously cleaned and sterilized) jugs, such as might appear full of orange or apple juice at any supermarket.  When the burlap is placed back into the bucket, more apples are tossed into the hopper, and the whole process begins anew, although the previous wheel cranker is replaced by a new volunteer with fresh shoulder muscles.   We managed to crank out several gallons of cider that afternoon, and despite its mongrel pedigree, it was quite tasty.   The cider can be drunk on the spot, of course (a good deal of it was); refrigerated to be served cold on another day; or frozen to be thawed and heated up for cider in the dead of winter.

As mentioned, the particular Jaffrey model we used on this occasion was an antique, purchased at a yard sale more than 20 years ago, but there are updated versions available for perusal at http://jaffreypress.com. While anyone can go to their local market and buy cider, there is something to be said about enjoying the fruits of your labor and honoring a long time tradition.

Photo courtesy of Douglas C. Jones

Thanks to my neighbor for this guest post. Anyone notice how cider has suffered from the new pasteurization trend? Cider ain’t what it used to be! We have to make it ourselves! Bruce

from http://www.travelchannel.com/TV_Shows/Bizarre_Foods

Fans of the Travel Channel’s Bizarre Foods show have watched host Andrew Zimmern eat everything from pig brains in Spain to tree worms in the Philippines. When I heard he was doing a show in Maine my first question was, “What do we eat that’s so bizarre? What could possibly compare to roasted caterpillar or fermented seal blubber?”

Also from the travel channel website

To answer this question, Andrew met up with his dad Bob Zimmern, who happens to live in Portland, Maine’s largest city. The two head out to Fore Street for lunch where chef Sam Hayward presented his signature dishes, monkfish livers and roasted sardines. Not a bad start. In a twist on the usual parent-child exchange, Andrew scarfs down parts of the fish (the heads, of course) his dad refuses to eat. Andrew makes an observation that Maine restaurants are especially close to their food sources, and like to feature what’s local.

At the end of the show Andrew returns to Portland and finds local chefs who prepared junebugs three different ways at the Bizarre Foods Deathmatch Cookoff. He must have hit the season just right. He also visited a sushi restaurant I hadn’t heard of called Food Factory Miyake on Spring Street (our usual is Benkay on India Street). Here he tried the ultimate bizarre food, sea cucumber. I’ve seen these limp “sea pickles” washed up on our shore and I will state here and now, I refuse to eat anything that routinely expels its internal organs. Good job Andrew!

In between, the Bizarre Foods crew head out to Isle Au Haut where Andrew met up with The Perfect Storm author Linda Greenlaw. Linda took him lobster fishing and treated him to a full-blown clam bake with lobster, corn, clams, the works. Not bizarre at all, just great!

also from the travel channel website

The bizarre part happened at Pretty Marsh, where Andrew is treated to beaver chili cooked by Kate Krukowski. Leave it to Andrew to come to Maine to eat a large rodent! Kate lives in Pretty Marsh on Mount Desert Island and is the author of Black Fly Stew: Wild Maine Recipes. I have to get this book. I hope it’s not all about sea cucumbers.

Kate and Andrew Zimmern from http://www.blackflystew.com

The wild cranberry crop on Mount Desert Island is still awaiting harvest, except for the several pounds I collected on Sunday the 17th. What was different about this year was the high water level: you have to harvest from a boat and reach into the water. The berries can be seen under 3-8 inches of water. Sticking your hand into late October water sounds cold, but as you glide over 6″ of water in your kayak you realize that, if you’re lucky enough to have a sunny day, the shallow water heats up fast. I have to say that harvesting this way has it’s advantages. No need for rubber boots or waders, no wet knees, no balancing act getting out and in. Also, the submersion in cool water seems to preserve the crop and extend the harvest. All the berries seemed to be at the same point of ripeness. And the berries float, so if you lose your grip they pop to the surface.

This little trip is never crowded

There’s really no reason not to get out and harvest your own. There’s a huge supply; the Northeast Creek flooding is hundreds of acres and it can be accessed from Rt. 3 in 15 minutes by kayak or canoe. Just park by the bridge 2 miles east from the MDI side of the causeway to Trenton. Perhaps the water level has dropped since my outing, so you may have to end up using boots. It is a beautiful time of year but weather and wind can change quickly, so be prepared. I would have had difficulty getting back if I had soloed in my eighteen foot canoe; the headwinds were very strong. The kayak was just fine.

Turn right at the hummock in the distance

The meandering Northeast Creek has quite a few boulders just under the surface. You may find yourself suddenly high and dry. It takes five minutes of paddling to leave the roar of civilization behind. Bird life has dropped a bit with the colder weather. Still, I saw ducks, kingfishers and great blue herons as usual. After 10 to 15 minutes of paddling you will emerge into the great boggy area where trees are rare and the water spreads out. Bear right at the hummock (photo) and you will find yourself following a canal where berries can be gathered from either side. If you don’t see them, paddle a few more minutes and check again. You should see this under the water:

If the water level is the same as it was on Sunday, you can just push your kayak into the grassy vegetation and start picking. Otherwise, look for a slot to run your boat into and get out. I always set my paddle vertical so I can spot my boat from afar. Watch out for holes in the bog mat if you’re walking-I’ve gone up to my knee sometimes. Can’t make it this year? Make sure you plan for 2011. Come for Oktoberfest and cranberries starting the first Saturday in October. We can set you up with lodgings and kayaks. Share your favorite cranberry recipe in the comments below!