The cottage was sweetly rustic; the stove... was not.
The oven was about 125 degrees hotter than what the dial indicated. Yep. Took a day or two to sort that out and make adjustments. And the burners—the ones that worked, that is—weren't much better.
Thus, this baked whitefish was a triumph. Fresh from Lake Michigan, of course. Carlson's, of course. Just glad the oven didn't ruin it.
And a simple salad...
Other highlights include these lovely wildflowers: bladder campion (disappointing name), also known as maiden's-tears (better...). I just happened upon them. Isn't that often the way with beauty?
And Lake Michigan was its stunning self, per usual.
That's Sleeping Bear Dunes in the background.
Back home, predictable cooking resumed.
Oh, and speaking of beauty: here's Glen Lake, a real beauty, everyone agrees.