early stores: j.h. butterfield co., bar harbor, me

The general store was a hub for communities during the 19^th century. In addition to selling and trading such staples as dry goods, hardware and clothing, taking catalog orders and providing mail services, a primary function of the general store was a gathering place for locals.  Histories of these businesses range from fiddle sessions on the porch to a dedicated dance hall upstairs.

During a recent visit to Mt. Desert Island – home to Acadia National Park - my husband and I popped into J.H. Butterfield Co. in Bar Harbor.  Still operating as a small grocery, everything in this place was clearly unchanged since its origins.  I began to take some photos and in turn, ended up chatting with one of the employees who was very happy to offer up lots of great information about the place.  According to him:

As the general store was typically the first business to open in a town, the building that houses J.H. Butterfield Co. dates to 1887 and is one of the oldest in Bar Harbor.  The current owner, Jack B. Walls, is 79 years old and the third generation to run the family business.  Throughout the years, he has taken pride in knowing the ins-and-outs of the pantry in every summer home in town.

The floor-to-ceiling casework is a common and beautiful feature…all the more space to store goods.

The refrigerated cases came along later…they’re from the late ‘30s / early ‘40s.

These are the original meat hooks where the butchering freezer was once located.  Off-cuts disappeared into a trap door in the floor.

 The walls are lined with pictures from over the years.

 Products that line the top shelves are original to the store.  Moxie of course!

The elk head was brought back from a trip out west.  It was purchased from a hunter, who only years later was recognized to be Theodore Roosevelt.

the other portland

Among a number of new items in the shop, two ladies’ items represent brands from Portland, Oregon. 

This red print skirt is from Pendleton, under a now-defunct sportswear collection, Miss Sophisticates by Pendleton.  This lightweight cotton skirt is sized medium and perfect for these warm months.

This body-hugging nautical tee was manufactured by White Stag, a brand whose iconic sign still hovers over the Williamette River today. This piece, part of the ‘Knitabouts’ collection, dates to the late fifties/early sixties.

Originally an outdoor clothing and supply company started during the early 20th century, the Hirsch-Weis Manufacturing Company later focused on ski apparel, then expanded to sportswear.  The sportswear division was known as White Stag and with its popularity, in the late fifties, the company took on this name.

It also famously changed the large sign over its building from the previous sugar advertisement to ‘White Stag Sportswear’.  A city landmark, this iteration of the sign remained the longest – until 1997 – and since then has read, ‘Made In Portland’ and most recently, ‘Portland Oregon’ when the city acquired it in 2010.

The brand was bought in the late 1960s by the Warner Brothers Company. It was later moved out of Portland and has been somewhat swallowed up since then...wouldn't you know, Walmart bought the trademark in 2003.

a july harvest ice cream

Ever since I bought the attachment for my KitchenAid this past winter, I’ve loved experimenting with ice cream. The perfect opportunity to make a long overdue batch presented itself this week during a cherished visit from my folks.

Among the many beautiful days we spent together, Saturday was a leisurely South Portland-Cape Elizabeth-beachy-lighthouse day.  

While on the Cape, we decided to check out Maxwell’s Farm for strawberry picking. Although I could have continued hopping from row to row for the rest of the afternoon, with our tray overflowing and our clothes increasingly red-stained, we carried away thirteen pounds of these little gems. Without too much of a plan, between the three of us, we quickly processed them that night.

The thought of making preserves was scratched only for lack of preparation, sterilization of jars and such. Instead, eight quart-size bags full – some juicy halves, some whole – await us in the freezer. And then the ice cream: a raw milk strawberry basil.
This time, I stuck with Mark Bitman’s simple six-egg to three-cup liquid formula. Here, the strawberry puree accounted for one part and I used raw milk as that’s what I had on hand.  Having just brought home a few more plants, including basil, from the farmers' market that morning, it seemed like a good idea to infuse the milk for a twist on the recipe. I only slightly miss the full-fat creaminess of using part heavy cream, but after a week of vacation-eating, I think it’s better this way.

snapshot of the shop