Bahr’s Landing

Pam’s Pictorama Post: One of my favorite new hobbies is purchasing bits of local memorabilia to decorate the New Jersey house. Having grown up in the area I have always found local history interesting and I am having fun finding ways to celebrate and embrace it as well as my own history there. Along those lines I picked up this postcard recently with the intention of framing it for the house there. This is a bit of a long summer and childhood post so settle in if it appeals. I guess I am kicking off summer officially today.

In a parallel universe I think I bought a tiny wooden house in Highlands on the water and live there. In that world I either live with and/or disregard the constant flooding of the area and I have no idea what I do for a living. There was a moment in this world where I gave serious consideration to such a purchase for a weekend house (affordably due to the aforementioned flooding), but my ever practical minded mother talked me out of it. I lived through enough flooding to hear her talking sense about it. Nonetheless, my heart does remain with the idea of a few rooms in a wooden house, just a few minutes walk from the river and ten or so minutes over the bridge to Sandy Hook beach.

Back in the early days when Bahr’s was still a rooming house and bait and tackle shop.

When I was very young, we had a house – one sold by Sears and Roebuck – on the nearby spit of land in Sea Bright we call the North Beach. I adored that house and did consider making it my home when my parents sold it in my early 20’s. My earliest summer memories are there, with beach access across the (incredibly busy) street and clubs with pools where I would ultimately learn to swim. In recent years, the bridge between the two, Sea Bright and Highlands, has been remade from a simple old fashioned one (up from the glorified foot bridge that would have existed at the time of this postcard) to a very high, super highway version which I guess you can walk over, but seems a bit threatening.

Anyway, Highlands and its kissin’ cousin tucked nearby, Atlantic Highlands, were always there as part of my childhood. It has an interesting mix of real estate, multimillion dollar homes on the steep hilly incline overlooking the water (mom and dad would speculate on how terrible winter driveways and roads they must have) and down to the small, wooden homes near the shoreline. For those of you who followed my nascent ferry adventures to and fro Manhattan, this is where the ferry leaves you, or conversely picks you up. As a child we mostly drove through it as a way of avoiding round trip beach traffic to Sea Bright or a to get out on the highway.

Nearby ferry landing.

One of the fixtures of Highlands is Bahr’s Landing restaurant. It is currently billed as the oldest restaurant in New Jersey, dating back to its earliest incarnation as a seasonal houseboat chowder and boarding house for those working the waterfront in 1917. Boats were rented and on the off season the family went back to their necktie business in Newark.

Eventually the business took off sufficiently in the 40’s to become year round and, according to the article I found, the original houseboat established the existing building today. Oddly, I only learned recently that the family is one I know – I went all through school (kindergarten through high school) with the current generation owner, Jay Cosgrove. Yay Jay!

Undated photo from their site but maybe not too far off from when this postcard was made.

In an unconscious way, Bahr’s played out through my childhood, young adulthood and has come back for me in middle age. As a small child I remember off-season celebratory birthdays there – as year round residents my parents preferred it in any season but summer when the local traffic would increase ten fold overnight. I could be wrong, but they may have introduced oyster crackers into my life which I adored as a child.

Postcard not in my collection shows rickety original bridge between Highlands and Sea Bright to Sandy Hook beach.

As teenagers and on summers home from college we didn’t care and braved the traffic cheerfully. The restaurant proper was too expensive however and we were instead content (very content indeed) to sit next door on benches near the water for services outside until late in the evening, eating lobster rolls and juicy fried clams. There was a movie theater a few blocks away which showed second run and old films for 99 cents and so a reasonably affordable date night was established.

I had not been inside the restaurant for many years when my sister Loren suggested it for a birthday lunch one year, shortly before she died and we celebrated our childhood there. Bittersweet, it was my first and last time there for a number of years as I thought going back would make me sad.

Bars from the water side in an undated photo.

However, in my mother’s final year or so we ordered in food a fair amount and I figured out Doordash from there on a few occasions which we enjoyed. I did it weekly or so until they could no longer find drivers. Mom was a vegan, but there were a few vegetable dishes she liked and everything we ordered from there was delicious and a wonderful change of pace.

In the subsequent year since mom died, a good friend and I have taken it up again as our occasional treat. We generally go at lunchtime during the week, occasionally dinner, when even the summer traffic is more bearable, taking an inland route which spares us some tussle.

Yup, the mug I purchased full of the chowder and some of those oyster crackers from my childhood shown here.

I wish I had copies of the old photos the interior of Bahr’s is decorated with – some go back to the days of it as a houseboat, renting rooms. Others show fishing in the immediate area – I always take time to study them. There was also a time when it had an early life as a ferry stop for cruise ships that would head down to the South from New York City. Ancient majolica oyster plates fill another vitrine. A small gift shop is at the front, near the bar and the oldest part of the building. I recently purchased chowder size mugs, one for the house in NJ and one for 86 Street.

This is the bar area where for some reason I have never eaten. I think we favor the water views. I always like to go and look at the photos and art in it though when I can.

The fare at Bahr’s is the absolute top shelf of what you expect and want from a local seafood restaurant, perched right over the water. Plates groan with ultra fresh local scallops, clams, oysters, lobster and various other kinds of fish. I remain partial to a warm lobster roll which has come to define this item to me, simply lobster chunks with butter on a traditional roll, served with homemade potato chips if I feel decadent. Homemade biscuits are served for starters – this is not diet dining. My friend Suzanne remains largely devoted to a plate of scallops and vegetables. We both occasionally go off script however and in this way I discovered their “original recipe” spicy clam chowder which is stupendous! I am a fan and have begun buying a container for the freezer in NJ each time I go and it makes for a very happy meal subsequently.

Recent image from the parking lot at Bahr’s.

The postcard I have acquired appears to most likely be from the 40’s given what I know and that it is a linen postcard – those were produced in the 30’s and 40’s. As you can see from my recent photo, not much as changed, down to the neon sign which must flash to boats like a beacon. That is Sandy Hook, now a state park, across from it on a tiny spit of land with the ocean beyond. Seen today the immediate surrounding area is a busy dock, as shown in my photos, and Moby’s, the affordably cousin they also own, next door. If you sit outside near the water and the docks, fat seagulls rule while ducks and geese placidly come and go. There is a parking lot where it is just sand here.

Verso of card.

On the back in very neat pencil print it says, The air is wonderful here on river. There are five children here & they have such a good time. Hope everything is well with you. Love Marg. It is addressed to: Mrs. M. Martin, PO Box #137, Gibbstown, New Jersey without a stamp so maybe it went in an envelope or just was never sent. On the back of the card, printed at the top it says, Bahr’s Seafood Restaurant Highlands NJ. Lobster and Fish Dinners. The “Half Moon” Bar and Cocktail Lounge, Charter and Deep Sea Boats for Hire. Est. 1917 – Highland 3-1245.

So Bahr’s has earned its place to be enshrined at our New Jersey residence. With any luck, some old photos will show up to join it and I look forward to treating you to a bit more of that local lore.

Autumn in New Jersey

Pam’s Pictorama Post: An extra day off last week enabled a nice few days in New Jersey. I was shocked that autumn had overtaken there so fully already. In many ways fall is my favorite season, although I guess spring is special too. Kim and I got married in the fall and in part that was because I thought it would be nice to have something to celebrate in October. (That would actually be today – our 23rd anniversary of marriage! Yay us!) I am one of those people for whom fall is a reenergizing and recharging time, cool air permitting jackets, leaves changing.

Dahlia continues to bravely bloom. The jalapeno pepper continues to produce as well.

This year I find the season a bit tainted with missing my mom and a nagging sense having forgotten something has chased me throughout the post-summer months. A five day return to office at work, combined with the start of the season there, has been an ongoing adjustment complete with disgruntled staff. Meanwhile, I balk at the exponentially greater need for office clothes and figuring that out. We have had record rains which have curtailed my running. A tough start to season. I feel restless and not entirely myself.

Autumn on the deck. There is a hibiscus someone just gave me which I planted while I was there.

The few days in Jersey provided some balm. Although more rain prevented running I did get a bit of an eyeful of the Halloween decorations there. That neighborhood, chock a block with kids, outdoes itself for Halloween and thereby commencing the fall and winter outdoor decoration cycle which I love.

I am not a large scale outdoor holiday decorator (although if I was Halloween would be a bit of a go to I think), but I do like the outside of the house to look nice and seasonal. This involved a trip to the local farmer’s market “Pumpkin Patch” where I paid too much money for an especially warty, green and orange number which I paired with a traditional orange and an interesting green one. I added a mum and felt content.

Purple mum didn’t make it into the photo but am happy with the seasonal aspect of the front steps.

In the backyard and on the porch the lettuces are in their glory and some excellent fresh salad was made. (I brought some back for Kim so the salads continue!) I managed to harvest a beefsteak tomato while another dozen were still green on the branches. Weather permitting I will get a late season harvest on my next trip. The cucumbers grew with enthusiasm, but were evidently too late in the season. They have flowered and have tiny cukes but unlikely to come to fruition. (We wondered – will we get gherkins?) Next year I will do better. A random yellow pepper showed up as well.

Lettuces are very happy and producing merrily although the bushy cucumbers are not actually spewing out produce.

To salve the seasonal wound of it being too cold to sit out on the deck I grown to so dearly love, I added a fire pit in the backyard at the end of the summer. It had its inaugural lighting this week. I chose a traditional fire one, although my grill is propane. It is smokey – goodness! But that seems appropriate and I enjoy the smell of the wood. My friend Suzanne and I attempted s’mores, and comical although it was I am not sure I will try it again soon. (Think sticky marshmallow everywhere – even my phone – and chocolate not melting and graham crackers too hard!) I will perhaps stick to hot chocolate with marshmallows drinking by said fire going forward.

The inaugural fire pit launch last week. Gourmet graham crackers to the right – too think for good s’mores.
Fig tree is happily trying to take over the world, and the tomato plant could supply us with a dozen more tomatoes. Not in view is my jasmine plant which wound itself around all sorts of things in an urge to acquire territory which I will have to curtail when taking it inside over the coldest of winter.

The New Jersey cats welcomed me unconditionally and I slept with Beau and Gus draped around me. Gus brought me his favorite stuffed rat and placed it ceremoniously on the bed where I woke to it one night.

Hobo at the end of the summer having a snack. Turns out, not surprisingly, he’s a mighty hunter.

Speaking of rats, Hobo (our outside denizen) brought a gift in the form of a mouse the other morning and was later found munching on a rat. I guess he is looking for a little extra protein these days, but I thought it was considerate that he was thanking us for all his meals even if it was in dead rodent form which needed disposing of.

I woke to Gus, Beau and the rat toy late one night.

I hope to make another trip out there before Thanksgiving and look forward to the morphing of the fall decorations. Meanwhile, tomorrow (hopefully a sunny day) Kim and I are taking off for a day trip to Cold Spring for a somewhat belated anniversary celebration. More to come on that and an in the can post (and a rather special one I think) will appear in your inbox on schedule.

The Pumpkin Patch at Sickles Farm in Little Silver, NJ.

Jersey Livin’

Pam’s Pictorama Post: As I start this I sit in a train tunnel to NYC from NJ with an absurdly loud snoring generating from the seat in front of me. This man needs help I think.

The great summer experiment of 2023 got off to a rocky start (see the cats not eating post here) and although it has improved (cats have resumed eating and now are focused on fighting with the NJ cats) we are still in somewhat dubious turf, especially when it comes to developing my commuter chops.

Local honey. I run past here frequently and am tempted but how to get the honey home?

Last week, after a debilitating trip in for a breakfast appointment which was stymied by an express train that went local, I made it to Penn station in the nick of time to hop on. My commuter skills have been acquired painfully. I hopped on a train one evening in the nick of time only to discover that you cannot buy a ticket with a credit card on the train.

Anya and her double decker cat stroller.

To pay cash you pay a hefty fee so the conductor left me to try to put the app on my phone but it went into a repeating ring of spinney ball Hell, perhaps because the internet signal was coming and going. Much to my surprise, a very nice gentleman who was sitting next to me spontaneously bought my ticket for me which was lovely of him.

Then there was that Friday when the line I take stopped working and I hopped the ferry instead. A nice ride for me but miserable traffic for the friend who picked me up.

Historic house in Red Bank turned restaurant.

I am slowly returning to running here in Jersey. I lost the habit here toward the end of my mom’s illness when mornings were busy times. I got out and turned toward Red Bank the other day. I had a look at the summer set up – the main drag is closed to car traffic and created a pedestrian path and eating area.

Fig tree awaiting trnasplanting.

Post pandemic the town has suffered a loss of retail like many other places. Restaurants have done best in the rebirth thus far. There is a Tiffany – it is a wealthy area after all. I think of how we used to say that Tiffany set up in the beach communities to salve the conscience of the guilty husbands coming from Manhattan for the weekend, leaving their summer seasonal mistresses in New York. This year I have a taste of being the husband but I can assure Kim (and cats) that they have nothing to fear from my evenings alone in Manhattan – hence no trips to Tiffany.

Local Tiffany’s for those last minute gifts…

For all of the trouble settling in and getting settled, we are now and we are having good days here. The cats are eating on their own. Blackie has annexed a bedroom next to ours and now has two rooms firmly in paw. (Approximately the size of our apartment in Manhattan ironically.) He is finally appearing to enjoy himself some. Cookie has decided that most of her days will be spent behind Kim’s chair, less pioneering spirit in her. Thus far the New Jersey cats seem to take them with a grain of salt.

Lunch and dinner is mostly consumed on our deck off the kitchen where we can survey the beauty of the garden. A fig tree is the most recent acquisition, purchased with two figs on it and several more already peeking out. Tomato and pepper plants are producing now and the herbs are in full cry. A jasmine plant acquired a few months back has its first bloom although my vision of evenings heady with the smell of jasmine may have to wait for another year.

Ferry was crowded last Friday when train went down.

I have strung fairy lights around the deck and added solar ones in both the front and back which also pop on as it gets dark. A portable speaker and my phone are all we need to play some music. Hummingbirds make a sunset appearance at some flowering trees. As dark falls and the lights twinkle on, tiny bats swoop in to feast on the mosquitoes – which have been feasting on me. Fireflies blink (do the bats eat them too?) and I think that yes, this is summer at its best and at last.