Newport Jet Lag Journal
For the 4th of July, I packed up my preppiest clothes and my sidekick and headed to Newport, a magical place that was introduced to me years ago while working at Forbes. This is the town where Jackie and JFK married, where oyster bars and boutiques are conveniently lined up on one street all in a row, where America’s Cup sailboats cruise the horizon.
First things first, a unique Newport experience – the Cliff Walk. With enormous, ostentatious turn of the (nineteenth) century mansions on one side and the ocean on the other, you walk in the sun as the water crashes against the enormous rocks below you. Some of the mansions allow you to frolic through their enormous lawns, and the further you walk, the less manicured and orderly the path becomes. We did have a huge rainstorms over the weekend that was big enough to push back the town’s fireworks celebration by a night. The streets completely flooded, and we ducked into Midtown Oyster Bar to kill time with beers and the World Cup. With sheets of rain pouring down and no sign of stopping, we just took off our shoes and ran from the bar to the car. The running was futile – we were completely soaked through anyway. That night, we took refuge inside Tallulah on Thames for the tasting menu. The plating was beautiful, and the courses were definitely a little strange which I enjoyed but picky eater Lindsay was having none of. But check out how beautiful the butter looks dotted with flower petals and parsley. Newport is a town made up mostly of inns as opposed to hotels, and ours was the Marshall Slocum Inn. It was cozy and friendly, although we did have to switch rooms during our visit and the second room felt like such a downgrade. Breakfast is served on a sunny back porch where you don’t have to sit with strangers first thing in the morning and make small talk about your job. Plus there were fresh blueberry and white chocolate cookies in the afternoon! How cute is my lobster cookie!
One of my favorite places in Newport is Bannister’s Wharf. My initial introduction to Newport was on the Forbes yacht, which docked right there, and we would disembark and walk to the fabulous Clarke Cooke House. I fantasize about their dessert, The Snowball in Hell, all year long. It’s basically a chocolate-coated goblet filled with a sphere of chocolate cake and ice cream.
The best part of this Newport weekend however, was a super fancy, delicious meal at Castle Hill during sunset. Check it out – part one of this Newport Jet Lag Journal.