Last May, I was fortunate to drive New Brunswick’s Acadian Coast for an upcoming Boston Globe story. Stretching 110 miles from Shediac to Caraquet, the northeastern coast of New Brunswick boasts the warmest waters north of Virginia, the sand dunes of Kouchibouguac National Park, lonely lighthouses on Miscou Island, and the largest lobster processing facility on the continent. Yet, the real reason folks go out of their way to venture to the Acadian Coast is to experience the French Canadian culture. Stop at any of the small towns and you’ll notice a distinctive joie de vivre, with foot-stomping fiddle music, down-home French cooking accentuating the local seafood catch, and festivals that celebrate the Acadians’ 400-year-old history in the Atlantic Maritimes.
Yet, it was one day in Caraquet where I experienced my greatest culinary pleasure of the year. In the morning, oysterman Gaetan Dugas took me out on the waters of Caraquet Bay to show me firsthand why these oysters are a cherished commodity in high demand from chefs around North America. Especially the petites, small oysters that are both succulent and briny. Dugas’ ancestors include a pirate who commandeered a ship against the British in the 1750s, but it’s his father who taught him how to oyster farm and his grandfather who taught him the traditional ways of the local Mi’kmaq people.
Just as bountiful as the sea are the forests surrounding Caraquet, ripe with morels, chanterelles, oyster mushrooms, and other goodies like the foot of the cattail. Local Jean Patenaude made a name for himself scouring the countryside for edibles, bringing home laundry baskets full of wild mushrooms on ideal days in summer. In the afternoon, he took me foraging for morels.
That evening, I assembled the goodies I had collected that day and brought them to chef Karen Mersereau, the mother of gastronomy in Caraquet. Mersereau was a food marketing rep in Toronto when she met Gerard Paulin, the third-generation hotelier of
Hotel Paulin, a Victorian-era gem perched on a hill above the water of Caraquet Bay. A dozen years later, the couple are parents of a boy, Jules, and Karen is firmly entrenched at the helm of the hotel’s kitchen. She has wisely aligned herself with both Dugas and Patenaude.
Mersereau took my day’s bounty and created a memorable wild mushroom oyster bisque. To ensure that every spoonful was chockful of meat, she throws in the native palourdes clam, similar to a quahaug. Her bevy of local supplies would make most chefs weep with joy. In addition to oysters and mushrooms, there’s snow crabs, tuna, Atlantic salmon, shrimp, and halibut right off the boat, goat cheese and spring-fed lamb found in nearby farms, and blueberries and cloudberries that grow wild along the coast, perfect for making a sublime pie. At Hotel Paulin, the locavore movement has reached its crescendo.
With the deluge of snow and rain in the Northwest thanks to El Nino, whitewater rafting outfitters are already predicting this could be a banner year due to high water levels. ROW Adventures, once named the world’s #1 Tour Operator by Travel & Leisure magazine, offers 5 and 6-day jaunts on Idaho’s legendary Snake River including all food, beer, wine, guides, rafts, and full-service camping. Cruise through Hells Canyon on Class III and IV rapids on a rip-roaring ride through the deepest river gorge in North America. This is not the Colorado River, where you freeze your butt off in the water. Temps on the Snake average a perfect 70 degrees in summer. Or sample the Salmon River, one of the original rivers in the 1968 Wild and Scenic Rivers Act. The Middle Fork of the Salmon boasts more than a hundred rapids in as many miles. What this means is a rip-roaring ride through narrow canyon walls, with glimpses of bighorn sheep and Rocky Mountain elk on the shores and eagles and ospreys flying overhead. Once you reach land, you can hike up side canyons, soak in natural hot springs, fish to your heart’s content, or use the time to gather your thoughts and simply breathe.
Today is my 500th blog and it couldn’t have come on a better day in Boston. Clear blue skies with temperatures in the low 70s, ideal for taking a long bike ride past the horse farms of neighboring Dover and Sherborn. Autumn for New Englanders is a time to reflect on the past year and consider goals for the upcoming year as the leaves change color and soon fall. There’s no better way to process those thoughts than by taking a long bike ride or hike. Hopefully, one of those goals during the upcoming year is to remain active, both in body and mind. Thanks again for checking in and have a great weekend!
After a brutally cold and wet spring, we finally had our first sunny weekend in Boston. Fall foliage might get all the hype, but spring is my favorite time of year to travel around New England, when the flowers are blooming and trees are budding. Since it’s the shoulder season, it’s also a great time to find deals. 
First located in downtown Sarasota, 
While a subway ride to downtown Boston doesn’t really qualify as travel, I can’t hide the joy I felt watching the Red Sox parade with good friends the first Saturday in November. Seeing Big Papi rap, hearing the Dropkick Murphy’s sing “I’m Shipping Up to Boston,” watching our surprise hero, Koji Uehara, blow kisses to the crowd, it was exhilarating. The stunning worst to first turn-around for the Red Sox was exactly what this city needed after a hellish Marathon day. I was at the Marathon, taking my usual space with my family cheering on the runners near the infamous Heartbreak Hill on Mile 19. It was a perfect day for running, sunny and brisk. Then I went home to watch the Red Sox win with a walk-off hit in the 9th inning. Everything was perfect until it wasn’t. The next thing you know my hometown is in lockdown during our precious April school break while the police are in a shootout in nearby Watertown with the brothers who bomb innocent people.