We’ve planned many trips but we are entering a whole new realm of travel planning: leaving our baby with the GPs for four days while we go to the Epcot Food and Wine Festival…
On one hand it sounds positively heavenly. Imagine, sleeping more than 3-4 hours at time and past 6AM. Or having more than a drink with dinner. Or wearing clothes without spit, milk, or pee on them. Maybe there is no other hand…
Oh, but there is another hand, a really big one. On top of being worried about how much we’ll miss him and if he’ll be a good sleeper for the GPs we have a food issue that has required months of planning, a big freezer, and the TSA. See, The Rad One is a breastfed baby. He’s also a voracious eater. (aside, you know that thing people say about breastfeeding just melting the pounds off? yeah, well, they lied). He’ll be 7 months old when we leave and will need 4-5 days of breast milk or 27-30 ounces per day or 150 ounces to be safe.
Where will all this come from? You got it. Me. I’ve been building this stockpile since April. Rad is such a big eater that getting any extra has been a challenge. Some days I’m lucky and there’s a whole three ounces for the freezer. Other days its one or two. If I could get three extra ounces every day it would take 50 days to get the 150 we need for vacation, its been more like 60. Here’s another rub. Breast milk is only good for about three months in a standard freezer, so not only have I been working on this stockpile, we have to rotate through what’s in there so that he’s not drinking April milk in October. On days Raddy visits the GPs or I go to work or we go out to dinner he gets stockpile. But that means I have to replace what we took out AND come up with the extra. Who thought this would be so stressful?! Just imagine me at, oh, say, a Motley Crue concert with my breast pump. Or the movie theater. Or the mall. I’ve pumped milk in all of those places. How about a bike shop bathroom ? Driving across Canada with Radicchio in the back seat? Or the Glorious Garlic Festival? Yes, Yes, and Yes.
Okay, so that’s the months of planning and the freezer, how does TSA figure into this? The pumping fun won’t stop while we are gone. I’ll be away from Raddy, but my boobs won’t know that and they will just keep on keepin’ on. In hopes of preserving my production, replacing some of the stockpile, and generally being comfortable I’ll have to hit the pump every few hours while vacationing. And I’m planning to bring some of that pumped liquid freedom back from vacation with me. Ah ha, you say, TSA has the rule about liquid and three ounces and the Ziploc bags. Yes they do, but after much to-do about breastfeeding mothers TSA allows breast milk on planes, even if you don’t have your baby with you. And they allow you to have it visually inspected rather than irradiated (I’m not sure if the x-ray thing matters, but if the microwave gets rid of the good antibodies in milk, I wonder if the x-ray thing does too…). Successfully doing this is easier said than done however; TSA has had some bad press surrounding women traveling with breast milk.
Given the amount of time I’ve spent attached to a pump and the hassle I’m sure to get at the airport on the way home, this had better be the best four-day vacation ever!!!
only the finest...
Recently I (Jake) went to the Shannonville Raceway (Shannonville,Ontario, Canada) for a Motorcycle trackday (aside from Kim: this a day spent riding your motorcycle dangerously fast while wearing a superhero style leather getup…you know, to protect your skin) with friends Ben, Jared and Mark. After clearing customs we decided that we should stock the refrigerator for the weekend. As simple upstate New Yorkers we are used to walking into any convenience store after pumping a tank full of liquid gold into our gas guzzler and buying an ice cold six pack of Pabst, pretty much anytime. Ok, maybe not Pabst, I’m not made of money you know, but you get the point! So we went grocery shopping at six p.m. on a Sunday for the four of us and two fourteen year old boys (that’s a whole other post…). We inquired about the availability of beer. The Canadian accent is a bit different from ours so at first when I got the strange look I thought maybe she misunderstood. After repeating the question “Where can we buy some beer?” She again looked at me like I asked for weapons grade plutonium, and replied “You aint gonna find no beer stores open ’round here at this time of night.”
Double negative. Awesome. So that means that I CAN find beer, right? Wrong. Must be that the double negative rule doesn’t apply north of the border.
Furthermore “This time of night??!!” it’s broad effin daylight out and hot enough to melt the balls off of a brass monkey! “Maybe when you get near Kingston you’ll find a beer store open, but I’m not even sure aboot that.” I guess she could see the sad wash over us when she delivered the bad news, so she wished us good luck with a smirk as we walked out. “Jake, Jared. You’re in charge of chasing down some beer. I can’t believe that there’s no beer in Canada,” Ben ordered! Yessir! So off we went. I turned on the gps and started calling every beerstore that came up. Not one answer. How can this be? I thought it rained Labatt’s Blue and the rivers flowed with Molson Golden in Canada. They may well do that, but not on Sunday evening.
All was not lost however. When we cleared customs earlier Mark and Jared had the good sense to buy some duty free liquor. So as we settled down that night outside the camper in the 90* heat and 600% humidity, we found that nothing quite quenches your thirst like three fingers of Jim Beam.
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One of the many Abbott's Frozen Custard locations
Frozen custard is not ice cream, but I can see how you would be mistaken—they are both creamy and cold and delicious. Custard has more butterfat, more egg yolk and less air than ice cream and is served a bit warmer, so its soft. And its awesome. Alas, I am dairy free for the duration of breastfeeding as it seems the milk proteins are bit hard on his belly (and therefore hard on our us…). Its been two months since I’ve had real dairy. Vanilla almond milk is really pretty good, and Earth Balance fake butter (canola oil solidified, I think) really does taste good. But there is no substitute for a good stinky cheese, what I would give for feta. There is also no real substitute for ice cream or custard. I’ve tried. Rice Dream tastes like a really shabby version of ice cream, too watery/crystally to be good. Almond Dream fake ice cream is better, but it still like has a weird taste. So I gave in. We were picking up a dresser found on craigslist to serve as Raddichio’s changing table and were driving past Abbott’s Frozen Custard. The Rad One had been very good lately, and we figured maybe one custard wouldn’t hurt. 60 days dairy free and one small chocolate custard couldn’t possibly bring the return of the constantly crying baby, could it? I wish I could say it was true. I ate it. And the next day we had Gassy McFartsabunch in tears for part of the day.
But the big question is, was it worth it?
Chocolate custard (and some dude...)
I’m ashamed to say, yes.
Way back when I was pregnant and living in Michigan (oh, that wasn’t way back? It was only 6 months ago? Are you sure? Cause it feels like a lifetime ago…) I contacted an awesome photographer to take some maternity and eventually newborn photos for us. God bless Google, cause it’s how I find everything and I ended up with an outstanding set of pictures. What does this have to do with tea in China or our blog? Well, it turns out that Morgan of Morgan Dawson Photography is also Morgan, wife of Evan Dawson, local journalist for WHAM 13, editor of the New York Cork Report, and author of Summer in a Glass. It’s not like she shows up and announces her husband is this guy everyone knows; she mentioned in conversation that he was interested in news…Anyway, when we went to pick up our pictures in March we also bought a copy of Evan’s book. Seeing that I was about eleven months pregnant and unable to sleep I read it in two days, loved it, learned about some Finger Lakes wineries we hadn’t been to and decided to plan some visits.
And then we have a baby. And two months later I desperately want to wash my hair, get dressed and spend some time without said colicky baby. So we decided to head off to Morgan’s husband’s book signing and a visit to Fox Run Vineyards, Red Tail Ridge and Billsboro. If we’re lucky we may even stop at Ports for dinner!! The GPs are watching the Rad One and we are off in the convertible, sadly with the top up as its a bit cool and rain looks eminent.
First stop, Fox Run for lunch and the book signing. Fox Run used to run its own café and often held wine pairing dinners with their chef, but recently the business has changed. The café is now called Opus and is a separate business (although inside the winery) run by the former chef. The menu hasn’t changed, a variety of salads and panini, but the wine selections are offered at a separate check out. I assume this is simply for business purposes. In talking with Scott, the owner, we also learned that the wine pairing dinners are no longer being held and understandably so; we loved them and so did the 20 other regular couples who attended. The goal of those dinners was to build new business; all it really did was attract the same devoted folks over and over. I’m sad they’re gone, but I totally understand why. Anyway, lunch was two panini (mine without cheese but full of pulled pork, not very traditional!) and a bottle of Fox Run Dry Riesling. It was even nice enough to sit outside and enjoy the view of Seneca Lake. This was the same lunch Jake and I shared on our second date—I was super late because I won an age group award at the Keuka Tri (scroll to 35-39 if interested) and had to clean up a bit but still showed up with sweaty braided hair and race numbers marked on my arms and legs; I’m amazed that Jake went out with me again!
We also chatted with Morgan, Evan, and Fox Run’s winemaker Peter Bell; got two books signed; bought a mixed case of wine (riesling and pinot noir, both reserve), and tasted a few others.
The day’s weather was improving and we took the convertible, top down this time, to Red Tail Ridge. There are two great reasons to go here, both unexpected. One, it’s a LEED certified winery. In other words, super green. Two, rosé. Really. We bought two bottles.
Most of the wineries close their tastings rooms at 5PM so we had about 30 minutes to stop at Billsboro once we’d finished at Red Tail Ridge. The Billsboro tasting room is not actually on the same property as the vineyards that produce their grapes-the grapes are grown much further south on the eastern side of the lake, while the tasting room is on the north west side (Evan’s book does a much better job than I in explaining terroir—basically, the dirt/geography/climate is better for grapes/wine over there…). It’s a restored 18th century barn nestled in some trees. What it lacks in lake view it makes up for with hand hewed beams and chocolate and wine pairings! We bought wine here too…a syrah.
Our plan was to head home, but when we called the GPs they said go to dinner. So we did. We’d been meaning forever to go to Ports Café but never seem to find it open. Tonight we were in luck! Although we had dinner at a wholly unnatural time for us (5PM) and did not take pictures or write down what we ate or our instant impressions, I can assure you I ate the best veal chop I’ve ever had for dinner, then for lunch and again for dinner, and that wasn’t just Mom’s Night Out Freedom talking. MMMM.
When we got back it was like the boy hadn’t even missed us.
Tagged convertible, foxrun, Rad, summer in a glass, wine
Bone Appetit-Take Out Menu
I’m not a barbecue expert in that I can’t make ribs or pulled pork and I don’t know the differences between regional styles. I do know that I like barbecue, pretty much all of it, from anywhere. Well, not anywhere; the McRib wasn’t a great idea.
Porn for Foodies
Anyway, the new issue of Saveur showed up Wednesday with ribs on the front and some great articles on regional barbecue (seriously, east and west Carolinas have different styles?!). Mmmm, I want some ribs…pulled pork…corn bread…
Wish granted.
Saturday evening, driving back from a family event two hours away (a blast with our newly-vaccinated-pissed-off baby) we drove by Bone Appetit in Lyons. We had gone by before but there was a serious lack of signage and it wasn’t til this pass that we realized what was going on there.
Jake made a u-turn, I sat with the Screaming Mimi, and in a few minutes we had a rack of ribs, pulled pork, corn bread and mac and cheese to go. (Jake must be trying to kill me; I’ve had to go dairy free while breastfeeding the little man and would probably mug an old lady to eat cheese!! Torture!!)
First things first, little man needs to hit the hay. And by that I mean bath, diaper, eat, lullaby, swaddle, rock-for-freaking-ever then sleep. I also mean reheated ribs.
Ribs, Pulled Pork, and Corn Bread, Oh My!
So, how were they? Awesome! Very smokey and substantial. I liked them as is but Jake really loves condiments (I think his ratio of food to condiment is 40/60) and would have liked more sauce. Whatever.
I also liked the pulled pork but agreed with Jake when he said it tasted like Spanish rice. Not bad, but different. Oh, and on a huge chunk of white bread, like a whole loaf!
Really, the corn bread got me. Moist, not a dried up crumbly mess like most barbecue places have. If only it was larger…
We plan to return, with little man, for an early dinner (so as to annoy the least number of people with Mr. Fussypants) in their dining room.
And they make pie too…I can’t wait!!
Things I learned on our first road trip with Adam:
1. Driving 350 miles at night with an eight week old sucks.
2. Driving 350 miles during the day with an eight week old sucks.
3. A certificate of live birth is good enough for US Customs; not one question regarding Adam’s citizenship.
4. Disposable diapers do not hold baby poop nearly as well as my Grovia, BumGenius, or Rumparooz cloth diapers.
5. Baby poop on the bouncy seat cover, the carseat cover, a bathmat, two onsies, my hand, and a baby’s chest will cause delays and scare teenage boys.
6. The likelihood that a disposable diaper will leak pee when the baby wearing said diaper is napping on your host’s bed is directly correlated with how much you are enjoying the dinner prepared by the aforementioned host.
7. Pack-n-Play neither packs nor plays; what engineering marvel thought a plastic zipper would contain a collapsable crib that really doesn’t want to collapse?
8. We would do it all again because we loved being able to spend time with A2theB, The Amazing Carol, and CatMax!!
Did we learn anything about road trips with babies that will help us next time? I’m not sure. We are probably not going to Lake Placid next month for training camp with Coach Mary and TrainThis–5 hour drives are too much for the man just now. Of course, being a baby, he could be completely different by then! We will probably go to Elmira this weekend though, that’s only two hours and there are plenty of relatives to hand Angry Adam off too. We also learned that you can’t have too many onsies, that an established routine can only take you so far with a baby, and finally, Adam will take a bottle of breast milk from anyone, including me…I worry about his future with strangers and candy…
