Grand Marais is a harbor town, and I don't know why exactly, but we usually feel compelled to eat our way around places like this. Today it seemed to be all about sugar. I can defend that by stating that Friday night we attempted to have a fire and make S'mores but as soon as we broke out the goodies a hailstorm materialized, dousing our fire, ruining the whole bag of marshmallows, and sending us ducking for cover. So perhaps we were feeling some sort of subconscious need to give our pancreases a work out. We consumed so many empty calories that I cannot even recall, a mere thirty minutes after returning from our outing, in what order we did anything. Please forgive me if this whole post seems like it was written by a ferret on espresso. It was. I'm so gittery and scatter-brained I had to hire a ghostwriter.
-Jenni