Autumn art adventure

The long rays of autumnal beach sun are the best, because they are the last before winter's chill. When our dear friend,  artist Elizabeth Bradford, invited us; along with the architect Frank Cheney, to her home in Pine Knoll Shores to paint and play and cook, we jumped at the chance. I named our adventure the “PLAIN-air Paint-Off.” Liz and I agree that the term, “Plein-air painting;” when discussing paintings done outdoors, is just a dreadfully pretentious phrase, and “plain air” painting better suits our southern tastes. Neither B.J. nor Frank paint, but were wrapped up in their own serious reading projects. We two artists painted and drew up a storm of ideas, in a vortex of fun, serious work and quiet critique. We studied the water and cloud movements, the twisted shapes of coastal evergreens, the vivid hues of marsh grasses, and we chattered about the process of making art.  

Of course, in my humble opinion, to paint well requires food of the highest caliber, and lucky for us, our hostess is a sensational cook, whose mantra is “fresh ingredients.” We ate like kings and queens on the fruits of the sea, and the last of summer’s harvest. No restaurant in the area could have served better tasting cuisine. First evening she served prawns with two homemade sauces. Nothing in a jar will ever beat homemade tartar or cocktail sauce, which she made fresh each day. The tartar used Greek yogurt, freshly canned chopped pickles and plenty of parsley. The cocktail sauce was seasoned with softened cooked mountain apples and onions, stewed with ketchup, sieved and blended before adding freshly ground horseradish. Second night we were treated to sautéed sea mullet. Third night was an oyster feast, when we ate a half-bushel of fresh oysters, scrubbed clean and roasted. Unfortunately, Liz badly cut her finger chopping, causing her some serious pain requiring BJ to administer first aid, and I immediately became her sous-chef. Trying to keep up with her kitchen pace was tricky, but she made it work, checking over my shoulder, keeping a close eye on my techniques. The last night, we used two dozen leftover oysters to make an old fashioned oyster stew as a first course, followed by the last of the summer tomatoes and okra, served alongside a classic crab casserole. We also created an apple tart served with an egg custard that she made literally with one hand. It all sounds so rich and decadent, but was quite light, because it was all so fresh. We ate European-style; late and slowly with lots of wine, candles and lively laughter. Perhaps that made the meals seem decadent. I wish I could say the art I produced was as fine as the food, but I believe the food won the contest, hands down. The art excursion turned into a serious cooking class, and this eager pupil learned some needed culinary skills.

We all sat every day in the sun, taking in the air and the peace and quiet of a nearly deserted beach. We painted in acrylic and watercolors, read, and walked the shore. I played footsie with the chilly surf, watching the movement in tiny tidal pools. In the afternoons, we sat on the wind-protected terrace for our waning sun cocktails. The tranquility was as delicious as any of the food we ate. After dinners, we sat outside in comfortable lounge chairs, watching the stars, covering ourselves with warm blankets as if we were on some magical ocean liner in the middle of some exotic ocean. The last long rays of warmth and beach sun in Carolina are so bittersweet, but will provide months of winter warmth for my soul.