We drove to Saranac Lake on Saturday for Lynn to buy long-sleeve T-shirts at Pink. On the way we stopped at The ADK Café in Keene, among the high peaks. We used to stop there when it was under another name, which I won’t mention because I am going to say something unkind about its owners. I loved their veggie burgers and special sauce for them. The team moved to another building nearby and we stopped at the new place for the scrumptious burgers. They also sell beer. When I asked where the washroom was – I wanted to wash my hands before eating a sandwich – they informed me that they didn’t make it available to customers. You can sit there and drink beer, but if you have to take a leak you better have a fireman’s friend. I said that was totally unacceptable and left.
Okay, back to ADK. We scoped the menu. I said I would have a certain sandwich and mentioned how much I used to love the veggie burgers from the old crew. Mary said the chef was CIA trained and would make me one. I said I didn’t want anything bespoke at lunchtime. Mary said no problem and betimes out came a very good veggie burger with sweet potato Freedom Fries. I thanked the svelte ski instructress waitress so much and ruminated that if only I had the sauce, too…whereupon Mary said the chef would make me a glorious Dijon mayonnaise sauce – whereupon I said, no, this is beautiful just as it is.
I think the chef might be named Lana. Why such as accomplished chef would be in the middle of the mountains is a mystery, but I told Mary I would mention it on WLDG as a destination for any connoisseur traveling through the Adirondack North Woods. They have wine, and I think you can probably bring your own bottle, also. Mary did not know, and said she would check on the question; but from the other accommodations I am almost positive that the first person who walks in with a bottle will be welcome.
The two restaurants typify two themes in the Park: reclusiveness and neighborliness. But even the hermits will lend a hand if you really need it. What you never get is mechanization, and nobody will be texting or talking on a cell phone. They can’t. And half the people will be speaking French – I started to say in sotto voce, but Canucks don’t converse like Parisians.
We got to Pink and my favorite lady, Kristen was there. She’s as pretty and sharp a twenty-something brunette as you could find anywhere, but she lives in an apartment behind a Lake Placid bar. Last New Year’s Eve she was going to go out, which could have meant just around the corner, but she never got off her couch. She’ll do better this year, she said, maybe.
While Lynn tried on clothes, I read the paper in a huge leather chair they have for that purpose. Kristen walked over and asked me what was in the paper. When I related a couple of the stories, she thanked me for sharing the stuff. I know it sounds kind of inconsequential to bring this up, but in what other region of the country would that still happen: elders being sought for their tribal storytelling? Probably somewhere, but I don’t know of any place. I read “Neighbors of Yesterday” poems by a lady who lived in my town more than 100 years ago, and not much has changed , except the girls use fluoride toothpaste, floss and brush picks, so now they are the still the same but even better.
Just kidding, of course; I love the pictures! I didn't have one of Saranac, even though we are there all the time. Thanks!