Wild Blueberries

This issue features a rather offbeat eating establishment, with only one item on the menu -- and that one only in season. But when those wild blueberries are ripe, they're free, plentiful, organic and delicious.

Mostly, though, you come to this place for the ambience. It's the kind of place you find described in a children's book, like Caddie Woodlawn or Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm as everyone's favorite swimming hole/pond/lake -- the kind of place no one believes exists in the real world. A fantasy lake. But it exists, just outside of Blue Hill, Maine on Route 15. In the summer months, just drive out of town until you see a sandy spot on the righthand side of the road where two or three cars have parked. Park your car, get out and follow the path into the woods for a tenth of a mile or so. You'll come upon a lovely clear, rock-bottom lake (named Third Pond-inexplicably, everything smaller than the ocean here is a pond), just cool enough to refresh. Warm up on the giant rocks cropping out among the evergreen trees, munch on some of those sun-warmed blueberries, and then get in the water. The daring may choose to jump from the rocks (it's good and deep here in places), but the more cautious can enter gradually from a convenient low spot. After a cavort or a swim (the trip across the pond is a nice piece of exercise), climb out (use the handy rope someone has installed) and let the sun dry you while you eat some more blueberries. Take out the bag of your favorite potato chips (blueberries and chips are the perfect flavor combo on a hot day) and the bottle of cold water you cleverly thought to pack.

Dining doesn't get much more low tech -- or much more idyllic -- than this. Oh, but watch the ants in your swimsuit.