Enjoying the hospitality of others

Chris and I are in our last carefree vacation days before we drive home to Southampton (A Butler's Manor reopens for the season on Friday, March 16). As many of you know, we drove to California to enjoy family, friends, and lots of sunshine (!!) in balmy Southern California. As with any trip we take, it is an oportunity to enjoy the hospitality and to garner new ideas at other establishments, both bed and breakfast and hotel. Two experiences during our sojourn stand out: Casa Laguna, a boutique inn in Laguna Beach, and the Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas.

"Casa," where every square inch in the terraced gardens was planted in a riot of color, made Chris drool with envy. We loved, loved, loved their big lush beds, soft as a dream, and our couples massage on premises was divine. But our favorite feature was their outdoor soaking tub, a Jacuzzi for two, under its own little pergola on a terrace above the pool. You must reserve the tub, available for 45-minute sessions, as it is carefully cleaned and filled for each booking. We reserved it for late afternoon and enjoyed a bottle of champagne overlooking the Pacific as the sun set! The experience was truly a vacation within a vacation. We'll be back--and will recommend!

And...service at the Bellagio? Worth every one of those five diamonds that AAA has awarded it. In a time where accountability, responsibility, and pride taken in a job seems sadly lacking, the Bellagio renews my faith in customer service. This is an employer who has TRAINED their staff, every one of them, from the housekeepers to the front desk, to concierge-worthy service. To use a term I used to champion in Corporate America back in the 1980's, they are obviously empowered to do what it takes to create a superior experience for their clientele. Even the housekeeper on duty on the floor we stayed greeted us when we passed in the hall, asking each time she saw us how we were doing and if everything was satisfactory in our room. Needless to say, it was--more than satisfactory. It was fabulous!

(And hey, who would have guessed that you can play penny slot machines at the Bellagio...?)

Exemplary service is, of course, a passion of ours...it is such a pleasure to find it alive and well!

Okay--back to Southampton to create our own brand of exemplary service! The 2012 season begins!

Quote of the day: Do what you do so well that they will want to see it again and bring their friends. -- Walt Disney

Alternative wheels

Thanksgiving seems to be the perfect time to spend an hour in the shoes of another.

During the summer here at A Butler's Manor, we offer complimentary shuttle service to Cooper's Beach in our roomy Buick Roadmaster (a.k.a. the Butlermobile), which saves our guests the price of parking ($40 per day). And as many of our guests come from Manhattan and don't have a car, we also pick up and deliver from the Hampton Jitney terminal and the Southampton train station. Because we are an easy walk into the center of Southampton Village, for a weekend visitor from the city this is probably all the transportation they need. For a longer stay, or if they wish to wander farther afield, they generally rent a car.

But a distinct segment of our visitors from abroad, particularly the UK or Australia, come for several days and may not be comfortable renting a car and driving on the "wrong" side of the road. In most cases, this trip to the Hamptons will be their only one, and as much as I love Southampton village, I want our visitors to see all of the Hamptons and beyond...to really experience the entire area. And therein lies the rub. Unlike NYC, we don't have a large, well-integrated public transport system. We have the Long Island Railroad, but there are only three or four trains per day. And the train stops in Bridgehampton, East Hampton, Amagansett and Montauk, but you'll never see Sag Harbor that way. Taxis are expensive and not necessarily geared to a general tour of the area. Limo services such as East End Limosine, which can provide a general tour, are lovely but even more expensive. There are a couple of van/limo tours geared specifically to the North Fork wineries, and we particularly like Vintage Tours, but it is often difficult to get them to come over to the South Fork to pick up only two guests. And not all of our clientele want to spend their money this way. We do have a public bus, which currently runs every day except Sunday. Needless to say, Chris and I have never ridden it.

Until last Tuesday. After our guests checked out that day, we had the entire afternoon and evening free. So we decided to see how our wheel-less guests would experience the East End's public transportation.

It was a grey, dank day, with showers threatening when we picked up the S92 bus near Roger's Memorial Library in Southampton. You need exact change, but it doesn't have to be coins -- there is a bill inserter, which on our adventure, I saw that everyone used except me. My first impression was favorable: busses are new, clean, and well-maintained. Okay, so the seat could use a little more padding. But hey, for $2, you're not likely to get the Hampton Luxury Liner's posh leather seats.

We rode through Bridgehampton, then north on the turnpike to Sag Harbor, then southeast down Rte. 114 to East Hampton and disembarked near the train station there, a journey of about 35 minutes--not bad for probably a 20 mile trip. After wandering in town and enjoying a coffee at Starbuck's, we boarded again, retracing our same route, then continuing through Hampton Bays, up through the county seat of Riverhead, and out to the North Fork. You can't get to Tanger Outlet Mall directly (though you could with a transfer) and it's not a particularly impressive tour of Riverhead. But once beyond the county seat, the bus journeys straight up Rte 25 through the Long Island Wine Trail, all the way to Orient Point. With the many wineries side by side especially in Cutchogue, you could actually go wine tasting on the bus. Hmmmm.

The journey to Greenport from East Hampton totalled about 2 hours and 15 minutes, and we decided to hop off there and have an early dinner before heading back home. Upon reboarding, we found a photographer from Long Island's Newsday newspaper on the bus, working on a story, though she didn't say what it was about. She was enchanted with our little adventure to ride the bus from one end of the route to the other in order to be able to advise our guests, and snapped a few dozen photographs of me and of most of the others who subsequently boarded the bus for points east.

The following morning, a friend called us up. "Kim, is that your picture in Newsday today?" Sure enough, there I was...headlining an article about a potential fare hike and its impact on those who rode the bus, quote, "often, the poorest of the poor."

So I just became the poster child for the poorest of the poor? Well. I guess we need a second job! Too bad. We think ours was the far better story!

Our adventure taught us that we could safely recommend the bus for wheel-less guests looking to head farther afield than our village...one can easily journey to any of the points mentioned above, and with little effort, transfer to other lines that will go all the way to Montauk or other places. Busses run about an hour apart, which seems dreadfully infrequent when compared to NYC busses (or, yikes, the subway!), but when compared to three trains per day, is a veritable abundance of transportation...an easy, clean, safe and inexpensive option for sightseeing when you don't have your own car. And the people watching is definitely interesting. Students going to class, people taking their laundry to the laudromat, mothers with small (remarkably quiet!) children, people en route to work, or to the store...regulars who knew the bus driver and chatted with him as he drove, others plugged into their iPods and enjoying downtime. It was a truly interesting day.

But oh, how Chris and I gave thanks that evening for the blessing of having our own transportation!

Quote of the Day: A bus is a vehicle that runs twice as fast when you are after it as when you are in it. -- Unknown

A Walk in the Woods, Hamptons Style

November, and things are slowing down. Chris and I actually had a day off a week or so ago. It was a gorgeous autumn day and we decided to do a little sightseeing in our own backyard, for the dual purpose of enjoying ourselves outdoors and to be better able to advise our guests. In the nearly twenty years that we've lived on the East End, we've never been hiking at any of the three most popular locations out here, namely Mashomack, Hidden Hills, or the Elizabeth Morton Wildlike Refuge.  We decided to start our exploration with Mashomack, just across the bay on Shelter Island.

The Mashomack Preserve, operated by the Nature Conservancy, occupies nearly 1/3 of Shelter Island, and is open year round. We went on a Wednesday in November, so I'm sure there were far fewer people on the trails than one would meet if hiking in July; however, such was the serene nature of the place and the layout of the trails that I expect there could be hundreds of fellow hikers in the preserve and you wouldn't know it. Here is one of Chris's narrated mini-videos to give you some idea of the peace and beauty of the preserve:

There are four well-defined and marked trails of varying lengths, from a one-mile wheelchair-accessible trail to a ten-mile hike that overlooks Gardiner's Bay. Chris and I chose the six-mile Green Trail, marked by the emblem of the osprey. The osprey is one of the East End's most celebrated examples of the power of environmental concern: the breeding population, once decimated by the thinning of their eggs caused by widespread use of DDT, has rebounded from 150 breeding pairs in 1969 to well over 230 pairs today, taking the breed from the Endangered list to that of Special Concern.  Osprey nests are visible along many coastal wetlands, but Mashomack is home to one the largest concentration of nesting ospreys in the area. The nests are remarkable as they resemble chimney-sweep brushes of the sort you remember from the movie Mary Poppins; birds create large nests in the tops of dead trees or, more commonly, on human-created upright structures resembling telephone poles.

The ospreys have flown south for the winter now, but lots of birds and other wildlife remain to be seen on the trails. One of the more remarkable sights we saw was a red-tailed hawk eating his lunch on a trail-side post in an open field.

Fields, wetlands, coves seeded with oyster and scallop beds, pine swamps...the variety of ecosystems within such a relatively small area was incredible.

In addition to being a wonderful place to breathe and appreciate nature, the Nature Conservancy has on site a charming visitors center with interactive diplays on all aspects of the flora and fauna. We spent quite a bit of time there, playing with the displays and discussing what we'd seen with the very knowledgable and friendly Nature Conservancy staff member.

The entire East End is a respite from busy city and suburban living, and we realize how very lucky we are to live and work in such a beautiful corner of the world. Even so, as we drove away late in the afternoon, bound for the South Ferry back to A Butler's Manor, Chris commented that our afternoon walk in the woods truly felt like we'd been on vacation!

Quote of the Day: We live in a fast-paced society. Walking slows us down. ~Robert Sweetgall

Taking a breath

Chris and I just returned from a four-day hiatus in Savannah GA with some friends. Our first day off since mid-April of this year, it was a chance to draw a breath, slow down, and sleep in a little. (!!!) This was our first trip to Savannah, and we loved all of it: the peaceful, tree-filled squares that so nicely define the downtown, the wonderful architecture, the slower pace of life of the Deep South. Savannah is reputedly replete with ghosts, so visiting so near Halloween was quite the ticket. Weather was beautiful for most of our stay, and we had fun wandering the historic neigborhoods, touring some wonderful houses and exploring antique shops and walking the river front. And oh yes, enjoying Low Country cooking, including taking a cooking class by local celebrity Chef Joe Randall, where I got some great ideas (who ever thought of using grits as a spread, much like hummus...?), though nothing I anticipate incorporating into breakfast. Of course we stayed at a B&B -- the Eliza Thompson House on Jones Street. It is said that there is even a ghost of a Confederate soldier in the house who haunts the room we'd chosen (the R. Bruce room, one of the original bedrooms of the 1847 house) -- but if he dropped by while we were there, Chris and I were too exhausted to meet him.

Back home now and back in the groove at A Butler's Manor. It's a great time of year. People smile around here as they don their sweaters. Last weekend we had a full house of anniversary celebrants -- all five rooms! Though it shouldn't surprise me; because we so often enjoy perfect autumn weather this time of year, it's a prime time to get married. Over the past couple of weeks we've had well over a dozen couples celebrating their anniversaries. In fact, we were among them. Chris and I celebrated our twenty-third anniversary in September.

Fall means that the farm stands are hopping, as are the pumpkin patches like Hank's Pumpkintown and the corn mazes. (And if those popular attractions were NOT what drew you out for a visit this time of year, Chris and I can show you routes around them.) One particularly good corn maze -- called a "maize" -- is at Fairview Farm in Bridgehampton. More than just entertainment for the kids, upon entering the maize at Fairview Farm, you choose a card with your favorite trivia catagory. Thereafter, when you reach a point that requires a choice of directions, your answer to your trivia question will determine whether you make a right or a left turn.

Fall also means the wineries are beginning to harvest their grapes, and their tasting rooms are extra busy, especially over on the North Fork, and often feature live entertainment on weekends. Local restaurants take advantage of the bountiful harvest to season their menus with fall fare like butternut squash ravioli and all sorts of yummy soups...yikes, I'm gettting hungry!

With fall in the air, and a more relaxed pace to the Hamptons, it's a chance to tidy and spruce things up before winter sets in. As I write, foliage is still green and temperatures are in the 60's during the day...typically, the East End doesn't experience full fall color until after Halloween. So over the next few weeks, we'll be painting woodwork and trim in the upstairs hallway, as well as tidying up the garden where the annuals are fading, though our prolific dahlias and roses continue to bloom merrily, providing lovely color. The fire is laid in the afternoons to guests returning after a day enjoying the season.

We welcome fall as it gives us a chance to breathe a little, gear down from the frenetic pace of summer!

Quote of the Day: There is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been! -- Percy Bysshe Shelley

RECIPE: Gruyere & Prosciutto Strata

Creativity was not a word in my mother's kitchen. Though she made meals nearly every night when I was growing up, my mother did not like to cook. She herself had been raised on a bland Norwegian-based Midwestern diet which, when incorporated into my father's meat-and-potatoes mentality, meant that seasonings and color -- especially any form of fresh vegetable! -- were seriously missing from the dinner table in our house. Her eight menus rotated with predictable regularity (Monday, meatloaf; Tuesday, Swiss steak) through our dinner hours. If I never have any of them again the rest of my life, that's just fine with me.

Some kids, like Chris, for example, react to indifferent food by learning to create something more palatable. But while I made whatever meals it took to pass my Girl Scout cooking merit badge, and later, Home Ec, I had no interest in becoming the next Galloping Gourmet. What I did like to do was bake. Cakes, cookies, desserts. Anything sweet. I knew I'd be hard-pressed to ruin a cookie recipe so thoroughly I wouldn't eat the results anyway.

Such a background comes as a surprise to many guests who assume I grew up loving to cook, that my flair for the creative, in cooking and in presentation, must be a lifelong skill. Or even better, that I've attended culinary school. Ha! What I am is a foodie who is learning continuously how ingredients play off one another, and who has found that cooking and baking offer opportunities for another form of creativity. And creativity in all forms makes my heart sing.

Which is why I am so very gratified when someone visiting A Butler's Manor asks for one of my recipes. Wow, me?!?

This is adapted from a recipe I originally found at Williams-Sonoma, and is fairly new to my repertoire --which, for the record, is continually being added to and adapted when necessary. Never let it be said that if it's Tuesday, it must be Banana French Toast!

GRUYERE AND PROSCIUTTO STRATA 

 

350 oven

10 servings

 

1-2                    large leeks, white and light green parts only, cleaned and chopped

2          tsp.       olive oil           

1                      bag seasoned croutons

15                     eggs (or two cartons Egg Beaters)

2          cups     milk

4          cups     grated Gruyere cheese

4          oz.        prosciutto, coarsely chopped

Preheat oven to 350.  Coat a 15” x 10” Pyrex dish with olive oil cooking spray. Toss croutons with olive oil and scatter in prepared pan. 

Whisk together flour, milk, butter, salt and eggs and pour over croutons in prepared pan. Let soak for about 20 minutes. Meanwhile, steam leeks for about three minutes; drain. Sprinkle cheese and leeks over egg and bread mixture and stir in. Sprinkle chopped prosciutto on top.

Bake until casserole is set and light golden brown, 35-40 minutes.

Bon appétit!

Quote of the Day: I was 32 when I started cooking; up until then, I just ate. ---Julia Child

Party out of bounds?

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Chris, as I've said often, has a spectacular green thumb, so nearly everything he plants thrives here in the garden at A Butler's Manor. And we have this pergola over the porch which seemed just perfect for a climbing something. So we planted a grapevine.

The first year, it just settled itself in the soil and began to carve out its path. By year two, we already had a crop to harvest, and I got out Grandma's recipe for jelly and made my first attempt at grape jelly. (It was...interesting. I didn't serve it to guests.)

By year three, we had a substantial amount of grapes, and the leaves and vines had formed a pretty extensive canopy over the top of the porch. But we discovered something: The fauna knew better than we did when those grapes were ready to be harvested. The night we said "Yep, they should be ready about tomorrow," the squirrels and raccoons moved in for a munchfest.

And they're not even polite about it. They pull the grapes from the bunch, chew the soft inside, and spit seeds and skins all over the porch. Discovering the mess the next day, we hurriedly harvested the remainder of the grapes. (Second attempt at grape jelly? Let's just say Welch's needn't fear any competition from me.)

I've been watching this year's bumper crop of grapes mature, thinking that we really ought to make a pre-emptive strike and cut the grapes before the critters get them. Then, with the hurricane and Labor Day weekend, we got forgot all about it.

Last night, the raccoons broke into the grapes and had themselves a party. From our bedroom, we could hear the grapes plunking down onto the wooden deck. And then, after they'd gotten good and drunk on the grapes, they ran around most of the rest of the night, chasing each other and playing on the roof adjacent to the grapevine...right over the top of our bed. I swear it was like listening to a teenage party, lacking only the loud music.

Today that grapevine came down. All the way down. I don't make good grape jelly anyway, and as for making wine....well, I KNOW I can't make wine I'd like better than the stuff I buy!

I expect there is going to be confusion here tonight...a bunch of critters wandering around wondering where the party went. May they go far away in order to find it!

Next year, I'm thinking a clematis...

A Butler's Manor: 1. Hurricane Irene: 0.

"Storm? What storm?"

Remember the old song? "What a difference a day makes / twenty-four little hours..."

A week ago we were battening down the hatches in preparation for Hurricane Irene, the first hurricane in twenty years to seriously threaten Long Island. (The last one was Hurricane Bob which struck in August 1991, twenty years almost to the day.) While there is never a good time for a hurricane, the end of August is particularly problematic, because so many people are trying to get their final vacation time in before Labor Day signals school and the beginning of fall. Hence we had a full house to cancel in anticipation of the lady's wrath.

This, of course, was a Big News Event, with All Hurricane All The Time coverage on the local networks. Call me cynical, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the fact that Irene looked likely to wallop New York City increased the news value. In any case, we all watched her progress with dread.

Even with the most advanced meteorological equipment, everyone knows that in the end storms are never 100% predictable, so making decisions in anticipation of them is a crapshoot. Chris and I had never experienced a hurricane -- we moved to the South Fork in early 1992, and the two storms that have made it up the East Coast in our memory both fizzled out. But Irene was a hefty lady, with shoulders some 500 miles wide. So Chris arranged help to make shutters for all the windows, and got our trusty tree guy over to thin out our massive Sycamore Maple and trim any other likely large trees in order to lessen their drag in a heavy windstorm. Out came the generator, fired up and tested, out came the extension cords, the flashlights, the candles, the radios...

We bid adieu to all our guests midday Saturday, and started packing everything away and shuttering up the first floor of the house. My sister Lisa, visiting from California, rebooked her flight home, started packing up bags of ice and filling the bathtubs and prepared to experience a weather event that can at least be watched and prepared for (unlike an earthquake).

Southampton Town officials ordered evacuation of waterfront and low-lying properties, and closed the beach to the public at 2 PM...which did not stop hundreds of us from going down to watch the waves, which were angry and quickening. For us, the rain began late afternoon Saturday and worsened overnight, just as predicted. Winds picked up speed after midnight and there were bursts of heavy rain, sounding like hail, in the wee hours. We lost power, telephone and cable about 8 AM on Sunday. Fortunately, the stove runs on propane gas, and with the refrigerator plugged into the generator, food wasn't an issue. With the windows boarded up, it was a weird feeling!!!. About 11 AM, unable to stand it, Chris took down the shutters blocking the kitchen, so we could at least see out.

We heard on the emergency radio that Irene had weakened to a tropical storm and made landfall in NYC around 9 AM. Outside, the wind was blowing, but there was little to no rain. Up and down the street we could see tree damage on most properties, but Chris's pre-emptive strike seemed to save us from the same fate. Early afternoon, with the storm now north of us, we drove around town to assess the damage, which seemed to be limited to tree loss and power line damages. We joined the crowd of lookie-loos at the beach. Winds there were much more intense than at A Butler's Manor. It was nearly impossible to gaze northwestward, into the wind, and all exposed skin got a sandblasting. Beaches were considerably shallower than they had been 36 hours previously, but still there. While our block had no power, friends a mile to the west of us did, as did areas in the village and all around it. Several restaurants were even open, including Fellingham's, so we ordered take out burgers and settled in for an evening of games.

In cleaning up the yard the following day, we didn't have a branch down any bigger around than a finger, no more than the effects of a good nor'easter. The biggest task was cleaning the pool of the fallen leaves, and resetting the outdoor furniture. And of course, post-Irene, the weather was picture perfect, not a cloud in the sky or speck of humidity in the air. By the time power was restored on Monday evening, the house and garden looked better than it had looked before the storm, and guests who arrived on Tuesday couldn't believe a storm had actually passed over the property.

In fact, the garden seemed to love Irene's kiss: clean up the following day allowed for some late-season pruning and raking, and all the roses went into bloom again!

My poor sister went home on Tuesday afternoon. Some vacation!

A Butler's Manor, Southampton, and all of the villages of the Hamptons are open for business this sunny, lovely Labor Day weekend...and we feel very blessed that Irene only backhanded us!