 |
If It’s February, This Must be Anguilla
More Magazine When Bob and Melinda Blanchard give directions to their home in Norwich, Vermont, they add the warning, “Don’t worry when you end up on a small dirt road.” They’re not kidding. And they might also note that when you get to their “driveway,” you’ll find it’s the kind of mountain trail that would be perfect for an SUV commercial. But it’s worth the climb. The house, a welcoming two-story structure, and the barn, painted New England red, offer spectacular mountain views. In midlife, Bob and Melinda have reconnected with their ties to Vermont: Bob’s go back seven generations, while Melinda’s date to visits during her teenage years and to the town where they raised their son, Jesse. Before they returned to the Green Mountain State, they had been living what sounds like a fantasy: spending winters on the Caribbean island of Anguilla, where they own and run the popular restaurant Blanchards (she as chef, he as maitre d’ and wine steward), and traveling the rest of the year. Bob and Melinda had found a beautiful location for their restaurant: Meads Bay, a crescent of white sand that is also home to the famous Malliouhana resort. There they built a pavilion of white walls, high ceilings and teal shutters, which is surrounded by palms and pink bougainvillea. But even perfection can wear thin, and six years ago, when they were both in their mid-forties, they realized that Anguilla was not home and never really would be, despite all the friends they had made. “We got restless,” says Melinda, whose mischievous eyes and brown bob make her look more like an errant schoolgirl than a successful 51-year-old entrepreneur. “We started missing some funny things from back home, like Chinese food.” “And going to movies. And bookstores,” adds Bob, 52, whose craggy features, white beard and shaggy hair give him the look of a poetry professor, with a dash of mountain man thrown in. More seriously, they missed old friends and the place where they became a family–in other words, their roots. They bought land in Norwich, in rural central Vermont. They decided they’d still live in Anguilla and run the restaurant during the winter high season, but off-season would find them in Vermont, handling Blanchard’s long-distance. Then they decided to build a house themselves, with the help of their son, Jesse. Jesse, an artist who is now almost 30, was teaching at a special needs school in White Plains, New York. He thought it would be great to have a studio at his parents’ place. Bob had wanted to leave a house as a legacy, and he wanted Jesse to know how to build things. Everyone was game, so they started in May 1998. “People see the house and ask, ‘How did you ever build it?’” Bob recalls. “And I answer, ‘You start at the bottom and go up.”’ As with their businesses, Bob and Melinda did research, found out what they needed to know (“You talk to people who have done it, buy a bazillion books,” says Melinda) and jumped in. With the house, that meant thinking through what they wanted, practically and aesthetically. Then Bob drew up a set of plans, and the family got to work, doing tasks that ranged from pouring the concrete foundation to nailing up moldings. They called in contractors only for the more complex jobs, such as wiring and plumbing. “The first night we slept in the house,” recalls Melinda, “we felt as much a sense of relief as excitement. We were in a bit of a state of shock that we had actually done it.” But they never doubted they could–although Melinda admits that she and Jesse hated building the forms for the concrete foundation. While the house is a lovely retreat, it is not a work-free zone. Running Blanchard’s from Vermont means beginning each day by going through faxed and e-mailed reports on the previous night’s business–the dinners sold and the wines poured. Then Bob and Melinda peruse delivery lists and handle payments and payroll. If there are problems, they pick up the phone. They also write books. One of the restaurant’s regular customers is a New York literary agent, who suggested they try the Caribbean equivalent of Frances Mayes’ Under the Tuscan Sun. A Trip to the Beach was published in hardcover by Clarkson Potter in 2000 and is still selling briskly in paperback. A lavish cookbook, At Blanchard’s Table (Random House), followed in 2003; that led to another cookbook and a proposed PBS series. And downtime? “Well, there isn’t a lot of that,” says Melinda. Bob adds that they don’t feel the need for it, and Melinda explains: “Let’s say we’re in Maine eating lobster rolls, and we discuss the PBS project. I guess that’s talking business, but I don’t see it as a meeting. It’s our life; it’s what we love to do.” The pair has had stints as social workers, retailers and food manufacturers; they’ve had successful businesses and flops; they’ve known financial security and near ruin. Through it all, they have been buoyed by their can-do optimism, self-reliance and faith in each other. “We see ourselves as a unit,”says Melinda. “You know, there hasn’t ever really been any friction between us. It’s always been us against the world. How could we best survive and enjoy ourselves along the way?” For the Blanchards, some of their best vacations have been just the two of them–alone together. “Since most of our life is spent in idyllic places, for a real getaway, we go to New York City,” says Melinda. “We check into a hotel and don’t tell anyone we’re there. We go to bookstores and the theater and walk down to Chinatown for dim sum, which is one of our favorite things in the world.” They met in the early Seventies at Lyndon State College in Vermont’s remote and mountainous Northeast Kingdom; both were studying behavioral science with the goal of working as psychologists. They were in a peer-counseling class doing a round of one-on-one sessions, when Melinda said something about Bob’s blue eyes. “Suddenly, we were no longer just classmates,” she remembers. In a move that wasn’t common for the time, when many people were living together without marrying, they wed in their senior year. Most friends thought they were crazy, getting pinned down so young. But Melinda’s mother, who was divorced, was thrilled that her daughter had found someone who made her happy. Bob’s parents gave their approval as well. The pair had no thoughts beyond graduation–except that they weren’t, as Melinda says, “going to wait around for something to come up. Both of us are fairly aggressive that way.” But something did come up: They had a baby during their last year of school. Jesse was born three months premature and had to spend three months in intensive care. “That made us grow up very fast,” Melinda recalls. Both of them went to work, Bob in a Vermont state work training program, Melinda with Planned Parenthood. It was during this time that they came to recognize two fundamentals that would set the pattern for the rest of their lives: Neither of them was cut out for anything remotely like the nine-to-five life; and they wanted to spend time together. “We didn’t like going our separate ways each morning. We had gotten married because we had a good time together,” says Melinda. Without setting out to do so, they laid the foundation for a life that is a mix of conventional and unconventional. In some ways, they have a Sixties-style existence, with its free-spirited quality and mistrust of big organizations. But they also have a traditional streak that harks back to the greatest generation: They’re family-oriented, with old-time notions of hard work. The pair eventually inherited $8,000 from Melinda’s father and decided to go into business; after doing research, they focused on cooking, an interest of hers. The year was 1976, and they caught the swelling wave of passion about food in the U.S. Their store, Board & Basket, was a big success. They sold it for $150,000, which they funneled into a children’s shop with high quality toys and furniture. They then added three other stores in Vermont and New Hampshire–and therein lay the seeds of their first failure. In the early Eighties, interest rates jumped, and suddenly they were paying off their variable-rate Small Business Administration loan at 21 percent interest. They had a big going-out-of-business sale and discovered that their $150,000 had dwindled to just $4,000. They were worse off than when they started and they had a young child to support. So they took a deep breath and faced the crisis together. Bob went to work as a carpenter, and Melinda, who was determined not to go back to an office, sat down to figure out what to do next. She came up with the idea of making something that could be sold as a Vermont product–as long as it wasn’t the usual maple syrup or wooden toys. Within two months, she had developed a range of salad dressings, mustards and dessert sauces. Bob designed the labels, built display cases and tinkered together a booth; then they set out for a gourmet-products trade show in San Francisco. They came home to Vermont with $30,000 in orders. The company, Blanchard & Blanchard and Son, grew far beyond their expectations, and they had to learn about mass production, distribution, investors and big-time financing. Says Bob, “If I knew then what I know now about the bottled-food business, I probably wouldn’t have started it.” Blanchard & Blanchard products are still available, but Bob and Melinda no longer own the company. Dealing with the realities of getting larger was again their nemesis; it took the pleasure out of the business for them. “In 1998, I came out of a meeting with a big grocery chain in Cincinnati,” says Bob. “I can still remember the phone booth I called Melinda from. I said, ‘It’s time to get out. I don’t want to do this anymore.’ That’s when we sold the company.” Without their presence, the value of the enterprise was adjusted downward, and they got far less money from the sale than they had anticipated. The prospect of no income–yet again–might have caused strain in any relationship. However, both Bob and Melinda claim that didn’t happen. Says Melinda, “There was no blame to be placed.” “We got screwed together,” Bob sums up. Their next two projects were restaurants: one that they sold and then another, which they closed. One of the eateries was in Aspen, Colorado–a tony resort town where the two of them just never felt comfortable. “We hated Aspen,” says Bob flatly. Nothing seemed to work right. For her part, Melinda faced a staff with attitude. “I was the chef, and I cooked as I always had–which is simple, straightforward, with lots of flavor. My staff was the cockiest bunch. One was a graduate of CIA [the top-rated Culinary Institute of America] …” “I thought she was going to kill him,” Bob interjects. “I mean, my God!” says Melinda. “If I didn’t simmer my veal stock for three days, I was no chef at all.” And the couple didn’t like the scene. “You know, empty cocaine vials in the bathroom,” she recalls. “We opened the place Thanksgiving Day 1992 and sold it in April 1993,” says Bob. This time, starting over was simpler. They knew precisely what they wanted to do: return to Anguilla, where they had vacationed, and open another restaurant, just one, on a scale they could handle, with cooperative staffers, in a place they loved. They were able to do it more easily, armed with their knowledge of the island and the lessons of businesses that had worked and those that hadn’t. They opened Blanchards in 1994. There are no plans to make it bigger or to franchise it or to open more restaurants. They control it themselves; they serve the food and wines they like. In return, its success allows them to live the life they enjoy. After weathering years of ups and downs, Bob and Melinda have finally got the recipe right. CALYPSO CHICKEN WITH LIME Round out this Caribbean-accented dish with a side salad and a Sauvignon Blanc. 5 tablespoons fresh lime juice, divided 2 tablespoons olive oil 6 5-ounce boneless, skinless chicken-breast halves 1 cup unsweetened coconut milk ½ cup heavy cream 1 ½ tablespoons grated lime zest 3 tablespoons peeled fresh ginger, fu1ely minced 1 teaspoon salt, divided 1 teaspoon salt divided ½ teaspoon freshly ground pepper, divided 1/3 cup coarsely chopped cilantro 3 tablespoons shredded coconut, toasted in a dry skillet over low heat, stirring (about 3 minutes) 1 Preheat broiler, or prepare grill. 2 In a large bowl, whisk together 3 tablespoons of the lime juice and the olive oil. Add the chicken pieces, and toss them to coat. Let the meat marinate in the refrigerator for 30 minutes. 3 In a medium saucepan, whisk 2 tablespoons of the lime juice with the coconut milk, cream, lime zest and ginger, ½ teaspoon of the salt and ¼ teaspoon of the pepper. Heat until small bubbles form around the edge of the pan; set aside. 4 Remove the chicken from the marinade; sprinkle with the remaining salt and pepper. Broil or grill until cooked through (8-10 minutes). Transfer to plates or a platter; cover to keep warm. 5 Over low heat, warm the sauce. Spoon it over the chicken, then sprinkle each serving with the cilantro and toasted coconut. Serve immediately. Serves 6 BEEF AND GUINNESS STEW Serve this evocation of winter in Vermont with rice or noodles and a red Zinfandel or Cabernet Sauvignon. 1 ounce dried porcini mushrooms ½ pound thick-cut bacon, cut into ½ inch pieces 3 pounds beef chuck, cut into 1 ½ inch chunks 1 cup chopped onions ¼ cup all-purpose flour ½ teaspoon salt ¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper 3 cups (two 12-ounce bottles) Guinness; or use another dark beer 3 cups beef broth (canned is fine) 2 tablespoons tomato paste 1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary 8 fresh thyme sprigs 1 pound carrots, cut into chunks 1 tablespoon unsalted butter 1 pound shiitake mushrooms, stemmed, caps quarter 1. Put the dried porcinis into a small bowl; cover with 1 cup boiling water; let sit ½ hour. Strain liquid into a bowl, and reserve. Chop the porcinis, and set aside. 2. In a large, heavy pot over medium high heat, cook bacon until crisp, stirring frequently (7-10 minutes). Remove with a slotted spoon, and drain on paper towels. Pour off and reserve all but 1 tablespoon of the fat. In the remaining fat, over medium-high heat, brown the beef in batches, adding reserved fat as needed. 3. Return the beef to the pot, add the onions, and sprinkle with the flour, salt and pepper. Cook, stirring, for 2 minutes. Add the mushroom liquid, bacon, Guinness, broth, tomato paste, rosemary and thyme. Bring to a boil, stirring frequently. Cover, lower heat, and simmer gently until the beef is tender (about 2 hours). 4. Add carrots, cover the pot, and simmer until they are tender (about 30 minutes). 5. Meanwhile, in a large skillet over medium heat, melt the butter; add the shiitake caps, and cook, stirring occasionally, until tender (about 3 minutes). Add the porcinis and shiitakes to the pot, and transfer the stew to individual serving bowls or a tureen. Serve immediately. Serves 6-8 GINGERBREAD WITH WARM CINNAMON BANANAS AND RUM Follow either main course above with this mix of Caribbean and New England accents. Cake 1 ½ teaspoons ground ginger 1 ½ teaspoons ground cinnamon ¼ teaspoon ground cloves 2 cups all-purpose flour 2 ¼ teaspoons baking powder ¼ teaspoon salt ¾ cup molasses ¾ teaspoon baking soda 1 ¼ cups boiling water 6 tablespoons (¾ stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature ¾ cup light brown sugar, packed 1 large egg, at room temperature Banana Sauce 1 tablespoon unsalted butter ½ cup heavy cream 3 tablespoons light brown sugar, packed ½ teaspoon ground cinnamon 1 tablespoon Myer’s dark rum 3 bananas, peeled and cut into ¼ -inch slices Topping Freshly whipped cream Additional ground cinnamon Prepare the Cake 1. Preheat the oven to 350°, and butter and flour an 8-inch-square glass cake pan. 2. In a medium bowl, whisk together the ginger, cinnamon, cloves, flour, baking powder and salt; set aside. 3. In a medium bowl, stir the molasses and baking soda into the boiling water (mixture will foam up to double its original volume). Set aside to cool to room temperature. 4. In a mixer at medium speed, cream the butter and brown sugar until fluffy, scrapping down the bowl several times. Add the egg while continuing to blend. 5. When contents of mixer bowl are well blended, turn the machine’s speed to low, add the molasses mixture, then the dry ingredients. Mix until just blended. 6. Bake in prepared pan until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean (40-45 minutes). Set aside (you can serve cake warm or at room temperature). Cook the Banana Sauce 1. In a medium frying pan over medium high heat, bring the butter, cream, sugar, cinnamon and rum to a boil. Reduce the heat to low; simmer, whisking, until the sauce thickens slightly (1-2 minutes). 2. Add the bananas, and stir until heated through (about 1 minute). If the sauce becomes too thick to pour easily, stir in 1 tablespoon of water. Assemble the Dessert 1. Cut the cake into nine pieces, and place each on a plate. 2. Spoon warm sauce over each; top with cream, and dust with cinnamon. Serves 9 |
