THE TASTE OF SUMMER
By Laurie Meunier Graves
In Maine, summer is short but oh so sweet. It begins some time the middle of
June and ends the last of August. The sky is deep blue, the countryside is
lush and green, and the seaside beckons with its cool breezes and brisk
water. Not surprisingly, most people’s thoughts turn to the outdoors, to
hiking, boating, and swimming, and the days are filled with frantic attempts
to squeeze as much activity as possible into this all too brief season.
Naturally, my thoughts turn to the outdoors as well. Sunny days on the patio
or in the garden are sheer delight to me, and I would never turn down a day
at the ocean. However, in the summer, my mind often turns in other
directions, to fresh strawberries, raspberries, string beans and corn.
Cucumbers, tomatoes, basil, and melons. Grilled bread, chicken, and fish. In
short, my mind turns toward the wonderful food that bursts like a blessing
during the fleeting days of summer. It’s a wonderful time to eat, and I
enjoy every minute of it.
Chocolate, of course, can and should be enjoyed year round. However,
chocolate combined with a trip to the ocean is an unbeatable combination,
and in Boothbay Harbor, Maine, there is a small but fragrant shop where both
loves can be fulfilled, where chocolate meets the sea. The shop is
Orne’s
Candy Store, and it is tucked in a small town that is a combination of
tacky, quaint, and expensive. On the one hand, there is the harbor with its
cluster of old houses, mostly white, that give it a trim, New England look.
On the other hand, there are the shops that sell lighthouse shirts, lobster
magnets, and coastal postcards. And then there’s
Gleason Fine Art, a gallery
with some surprisingly good paintings by William Zorach, Kathleen Galligan,
and Genetta McLean. In other words, Boothbay Harbor is a tourist town filled
with the usual tics and idiosyncrasies that such places have.
Still, only spoilsports would fail to have fun in Boothbay Harbor,
especially when there’s a shop like Orne’s Candy Store in the middle of
town. Orne’s is small with a low ceiling, glass and wood cases, and one wall
pretty much devoted to pictures of Abraham Lincoln. The front window is
filled with lace, old tins, embroidered cloth, a sad-eyed cocker spaniel, a
whale, a model of a ship, and salt-water taffy. A sign in the window reminds
customers that Orne’s has been in business for 118 years.
Best of course, is the candy: gummy worms, Jordan almonds, and Mary Janes.
Salt-water taffy, chocolate mint lentils, and jelly beans. And, of course,
chocolate. A whole, long case filled with milk and dark chocolate of all
shapes and sizes, nuts and caramels, mints and nougats. Some of the
chocolate comes from Maine, and, like so many visitors and residents, some
of the chocolate comes from away. As it turns out, my favorite chocolate is
from away.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. I am lucky enough to be friends with Jean
Webster, one of the owners of the shop. Jean is small and trim and
originally from Brooklyn, New York. She sternly allows herself only one
chocolate a day (this, of course, is one of the reasons why she is so trim),
and how she exercises such super-human control is beyond my comprehension.
Let’s just say it’s a good thing that I don’t own a candy shop, especially
one where the chocolate is as good as it is at Orne’s.
Not long ago, I spent a blissful afternoon sampling the various chocolates
and candy at Orne’s. Jean took me in the backroom, and after making sure I
had plenty of water to cleanse my palate, the tasting began. What an
afternoon! I sampled the savory almond butter crunch; a coconut snowflake (a
needham with star quality, as Jean put it); a Jordan cracker, which is
chocolate on the outside and a cracker on the inside—a nice combination of
sweet and not sweet; a mint julep, a peanut butter log, which was very
tasty; candied ginger, which packed a real punch; and so many more that I am
almost embarrassed to admit it. However, I am happy to report that I didn’t
have a bit of indigestion from all that wonderful candy.
Before I started the sampling, John, Jean’s husband, assured me that Orne’s
was really a health food store, that dark chocolate is good for the heart. I
think he may have a point, which is all too often ignored. Addie Orne, the
original owner, ran the store for seventy-five years; Susie Clark, a woman
who worked in the store for many years, lived to be one hundred; and John’s
mother, who once owned the store, lived until she was ninety-one. Clearly,
there is only one conclusion to be drawn: eat chocolate, live long.
My favorite chocolate turned to out be an unassuming dab of a truffle made
in Massachusetts. The outside is a dark chocolate shell with a slight
drizzle of white chocolate. Inside, is a dark, creamy filling with an
intense bust of tangy raspberry. It is one of the best truffles I have ever
had.
Jean gave me an extra truffle to bring home, for future sampling for this
essay. However, my husband nipped the truffle before I could tell him I was
saving it for research. It is a known fact that all writers must suffer
disappointments and setbacks, and I am no exception. Back to Boothbay Harbor
I went (with my daughter Shannon), for more truffles and a few other
chocolates as well.
John and Jean were not there, and after Shannon and I bought our chocolates,
we sat on the bench in front of the shop. As I had another taste of the
wonderful truffle, an old woman came down the sidewalk and paused by the
door. A younger woman was with her, and she said, “No, that’s fudge and
candy. That’s not allowed.” The older woman hesitated but did not go into
the shop. She and the younger woman just continued on their way, which
seemed very harsh. Of course, the older woman may have had health problems,
but I couldn’t help sympathize with her.
However, not long after, three other passersby saw my daughter and me eating
chocolates, noted our expressions, and vowed to return.
Finally, an old man came, looked at the sign, and said to his wife, “That
candy must be pretty old. It’s been here 118 years.” Into the shop they
went.
My daughter shook her head. “That’s just the kind of thing Dad would say.”
Yes, it was. As I finished my truffle, which was most certainly not 118
years old—it probably wasn’t even a month old—I thought about the tastes of
summer, of candy by the ocean, of ice cream, of fresh fruit and vegetables.
The season was off to a good start, and there was so much more to come.
Ah, summer! 
