Chef Paul, helping preserve the Inn.
Memory of Bowers Harbor Inn: Decked out in a decidedly too-fancy, but oh-so-90s black-and-white frilly prom dress, my hair in a french twist and adorned with white rose buds, I eagerly anticipated a fancy dinner with my then-boyfriend and several other couples. It was spring 1992, and yes, I ordered the ever-popular Inn entree Fish in a Bag. Photos of me and the boyfriend, my once coiffed 'do disinigrating in the wind, followed dinner across the road along West Grand Traverse Bay. (If I could find a photo, I'd post it here, embarrassing attire and all. I swear.)
Flash forward 17 years (17?): The Fish in a Bag remains on the Inn's menu, but much has changed -- most notably my taste in clothing, thank God. But that's for another post. On this day, I'm sitting on the front patio of the Inn, sipping a glass of "unwooded" chardonnay on a most beautiful late summer afternoon on Old Mission Peninsula. Earlier the gray skies promised dampness, a warm dreariness, but the sun somehow won them over, pushing through and offering a glint of warmth for a true golden hour. It's heavenly, I think as I sit gazing out across the sparkling waters to a distant Power Island.
This is not the Bowers Harbor Inn of years ago. And yet, it is. Sort of.
You may know the history, or at least some of the history, of this restaurant. It's one of those places that's hard to forget once you visit. Built in 1882 as a summer retreat for Chicago lumber baron J.W. Stickney and his wife Genevive, the Inn sits along Traverse City's West Grand Traverse Bay, several miles out Old Mission Peninsula. Maybe you've heard the ghost story of Genevive, how she's haunted the place because her husband took a mistress and left his fortune to her. Since 1974 it's served as a restaurant, a scenic spot known for its fine dining. It's why high school students -- like my early 1990s self -- make prom night reservations at the Inn each spring.
In more recent years, I've made only a couple of trips to the Inn, to celebrate our December birthdays one year and on another occasion to partake in a wine dinner we hoped would rid us of the middle-of-winter blues. (Mostly, quite honestly, it just broke our budget. But the food and wine? Fantastically amazing.)
Chef Paul Olson, who took the reigns of the Inn's kitchen a little over a year ago, acknowledges the reputation the Inn long has held. In other words, this married dad to two school-age kids gets that the restaurant has a hoity-toity past -- and he's doing what he can to change it for the better.
Far from compromising the historic integrity of the restaurant - the goal of current owners Jon Carlson and Greg Lobdell, after all, is to preserve the Inn -- Olson simply wants people to feel good about coming on a regular basis and not just saving a visit for special occasions.
Consider the deck on which I sat. "It's the most under-utilized place in the world," Olson says, motioning with his arm the gorgeous lake view from where he stands on the 50-seat deck. "It's phenomenal."
Shouldn't more people take advatage of this beautiful spot, Olson asks me. I nod in agreement, soaking up the the view all the while.
Inside, the Inn looks much the same but has undergone several upgrades, including freshly-renovated restrooms both upstairs and down and re-done banquet/reception rooms above the main dining area. A refurbished side patio is the perfect spot for cocktail hour. Then there's the simple touch of adding parchment paper to tabletops to create a more casual dining experience, Olson says. (It's something great NYC restaurants do, says Olson, who graduated from The Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park, New York and refined his talents in Manhattan and Connecticut).
"Also, my price point is lower. Entrees are between $20 and $26 -- there's only one thing over $30, the grilled filet mignon," he says. "We're trying to give a good value."
Just as exciting is the Inn's commitment to buying local whenever possible. Just one example: vegetables come from farmer and winemaker John Kroupa, who happens to live just down the road. Cherry Capital Foods also supplies much of what Olson uses in his cooking.
Olson's Summer 2009 menu includes scrumptious items like cured wild salmon, Werp Farms rocket arugula salad, pan roasted walleye and grilled lamb chops. Olson kindly prepared samplings of these, and they were absolutely delicious.
Then there's the wine.
I'm a red wine girl at heart, but whites are starting to make an impression on me, thanks in part to Olson's great suggestions. The "unwooded" chardonnay (it's aged in stainless steel rather than an oak barrel, he tells me) is from Bowers Harbor Vineyards and is pleasantly crisp and refreshing. I also have a taste of BHV's pinot grigio that's very good because it's not too sweet. A final sampling -- a red, cabernet franc from Peninsula Cellars -- is a perfect pairing with the grilled lamb chops.
If you're looking for great beer, Olson promises you'll find it at Jolly Pumpkin, the newly-renovated, much more casual restaurant next door that longtime fans of the property will remember as The Bowery. Starting this month the brewery will offer beer made on site, in the 8,000+ square-foot building that also houses a great space for wedding receptions and other events. Not to be missed is the outdoor fireplace and benches on the flagstone patio between Jolly Pumpkin and what's called The Peninsula Room.
As you may imagine, leaving this picturesque spot wasn't easy. But I plan to head back that way soon. No prom dress involved. Hope you get a chance to check it out soon, too.
The Inn is at 13512 Peninsula Drive. Call (231) 223-4222 for more information or go here.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Home is where my water is
I've been thinking a lot lately about that place, that mind-set really, that makes you feel at ease. That allows you to breathe a little easier and gives you a sense that all is right with the world.
"You know when you close your eyes and think about where you want to be? That's the place I'm talking about."
These are the words that stayed with me following a conversation I had not too long ago with Rod Call, a person clearly passionate about striving for the best life possible and working hard to achieve it. For him, it's building a company -- Snoloha -- that's as much about comfortable, laid-back clothing and accessories as it is about finding that place, that personal truth, and living it out each day -- no matter where you are.
Curious name for a business, right? When you hear the story, it makes perfect sense. Awhile back, upon returning to frigid Michigan from the U.S. Virgin Islands, Rod found himself amazed at the stark difference between the two climates. And how within just a short time he'd gone from one extreme to another.
Just so happened he was driving by the 45th Parallel -- the sign that lets you know you're "Halfway Between the Equator and the North Pole" -- as he reminisced about his travels, and that's when this phrase came to mind: "Somewhere between the islands and the arctic."
I love that he reached across his seat and scribbled the words on a Rolling Stone magazine.
"Snoloha is a way of life," Rod tells me. "Snoloha is a reflection of how we live, work, play, vacation and simply enjoy life somewhere between the islands and the arctic. It is a lifestyle people live everyday, a couple times a year, once in a lifetime, or in their minds all the time. It's carrying a vacation mentality through everyday life, celebrating and enjoying all the seasons that get thrown at us."
Sure, it's not easy to maintain this mind-set. I definitely struggle. It takes effort to keep it all in perspective and go a step further even and actually embrace where you're at at any given moment. It helps to surround yourself with loving family and great friends, to find work that's satisfying, to get out of your own way and look beyond yourself.
I don't mind winter in northern Michigan (well, except when it lasts until May...), but I also can't get enough of summer here. Maybe it's because we have definite seasons here that I savor summer so much when it finally arrives. The older I get, the more appreciative I am of the lazy days spent at the beach, the gorgeously cool runs through the trails and the nights of grilled cheeseburgers and watching the kids play in the yard well into the summer evening.
When I ask myself when it is I feel most at home, an image of the Lake Michigan shoreline immediately comes to mind. It's my place, my spot "somewhere between the islands and the tropic." How about you?
Go to Rod's web site to learn many more cool things about Snoloha. He's got a great blog, an online store (check out how he donates shirts, a "pay it forward" kind of thing), and he's just an all-around good guy.
**Since some people have asked about it, here's the scoop on the photo with this post: It was one of those amazing summer afternoons in northern Michigan. We were at Young State Park, a beautiful state park along Lake Charlevoix, not far from Boyne City. Lake Charlevoix flows into Lake Michigan.**
Labels:
beach,
Lake Michigan,
peace,
Snoloha
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