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.
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Back home, predictable cooking resumed.
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Oh, and speaking of beauty: here's Glen Lake, a real beauty, everyone agrees.
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