A friends’ field trip to the Lost Kitchen
These are the things I’ll remember about Maine.
Being able to come with these people to this place.
The best oysters: apple, shallot, spruce, and snow.
A wine bottle plunged into the snowbank, the original wine cooler. A fire to cut through the still-frigid air.
The memory lingers like smoke in the fibers of your scarf, your hair.
