Best Clam Chowder in New England…

…is in Provincetown, Massachusetts at Bayside Betsy’s.

I have had a lot of clam chowder in my life, but this is the absolute best. A bowl is $6.95 and worth every penny.

The chowder doesn’t skimp on the clams, has plenty of potatoes, and does its artery-clogging job by tasting heavily of cream and bacon.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Can’t-Mess-It-Up Apple Crisp

A few weekends ago, I took part in the wonderful New England tradition of apple picking. My friend Elizabeth and I drove out to Honey-Pot Hill Orchards in Stowe, where there are rows upon rows of Cortlands, Macintoshes, Honey Crisps, and even pears. When you enter the orchard, you have to choose the size of the bag you’d like to pick. Faced with all the apple abundance, it seemed silly to take the small bag (4 lbs) or the medium bag (10 lbs). With Elizabeth egging me on, I took the big bag. Twenty pounds of apples.

Needless to say, twenty pounds of apples is quite a lot. After eating my fill, I made a huge pot of applesauce. Didn’t make a dent. Elizabeth swore she was making pie with all her apples, but given my propensity for messing up anything that has to do with baking, pie didn’t sound like a good idea.

So I tried making apple crisp—a dish I have loved for years, regardless of the fruit in it. The bag I picked the apples in had a recipe on it, so I tried that. It came out well, but didn’t necessarily have the proportion of crisp to fruit that I wanted. I like a good few inches of fruit under a thick layer (maybe three quarters of an inch?) of crisp.

So I experimented a little bit, to the delight of my friends and roommates. And I learned two things: 1. Crisp is ridiculously easy to make. 2. It’s nearly impossible to make a bad crisp.

Here’s the basic recipe:

Cider Donut Fantasy

It is a crisp fall afternoon. A clear blue sky reigns overhead, as a brisk wind blows around your ankles, warning of winter.

The leaves are in piles of colors around your feet, and give a satisfying swunch when you walk through them.

You find yourself longing for something sweet and tart. Suddenly your nose picks up the smell of something frying. You follow the scent and find yourself in front of a man and a small frying machine.

The machine cranks, and a circle of dough falls into the boiling oil below. It floats for a moment, then flips over to reveal a sizzling golden brown exterior. A few seconds later, the man has scooped it into a bowl of cinnamon and sugar. He coats the donut, puts it in a bag, and hands it to you.

Before you have time to think, the donut is already in your mouth. The tart apple flavors mix with the sweet and crispy outside, and it is a fall fantasy on your tongue.

Candy canes have nothing on this.

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Find the taste of fall at Wilson Farms, Lexington, Massachusetts.