The two days I spent with Bryan weren’t too bad for me either:  after looking for chanterelles, fishing with his dad and picking a few beach edibles, Bryan cooked dinner and made each of the dishes for me as well.  Just the kind of living the dream filming I like to do: Film the plating, then eat the most delicious food.

As Bryan mentions in the film, he likes the quiet, and he is quiet.  So In our interview, he didn’t wax poetic like some Chefs are prone to do – raising their craft up to the level of art.  Chef as God.  No.  Bryan is matter of fact.  I walked away from our interview not sure if I could make a movie out of it.  But when I sat down to edit, I remembered that I wasn’t making Chef’s Table – I was trying to represent this person and share his lovely way of living and being.  So instead of searching for the poetry, I found the humble and peaceful lines that spoke to the experience of The Bite House.  He is living the dream without talking about it.  He’s just doing it — and he’s sold out for the entire season.

When we reached out to Charles Purdy (Nova Scotia oyster fisherman and the subject of our latest film), it took him a day to respond via email with a yes.  When we spent the day with him, he never looked at a phone or a computer.   He wasn’t against email and technology, but he was more interested in being present.  He was always engaged, smiling, working, happy.

As we release a film about this remarkable man (and as is the case with so many of the films we make), we are hoping to find an audience for a story that is about everything that social media and being on the internet watching videos is not.  It is a conundrum I battle often with our entire series: Twitter, Facebook and instagram don’t make me happy, they decrease my quality of life, and yet I rely on them for my living and the dissemination of my work.

I say to myself, “just make something good” and that will be enough.

I worry that each film is just another piece of media on the pile —  A pile that can make real stories and people seem so fleeting.

I hustle and tweet to make sure there is an engaged audience, willing to watch these snippets of a life well spent.

I honestly don’t know which is the best route.

What I do know is that Charles Purdy is real and I got to meet him.  I tasted the oysters and I felt the salty wind off the bay.  I had an experience that made me want to get off my phone and engage, and we tried to translate that into a film.

If you watch the movie, I hope you get inspired, if you don’t watch the movie… great… Spend those 6 minutes being happy. Jjust don’t spend it looking at your phone. And if you want to meet Charles, and hear his stories in person, taste his amazing oysters and feel the wind off the bay…he’s on Malagash Road. The sign will be on your right coming from town. Im sure he’ll be happy to meet you.

On the Shores of This Bay from The Perennial Plate on Vimeo.

While thinking of story ideas for Nova Scotia, we thought about an Acadian road trip with our friend Simon Thibault. Our initial brainstorming sessions rely heavily on what we are curious about, and we didn’t know anything about Acadia or its food… so it was perfect. Simon, however, doesn’t fit the mold for our usual stories: he’s not a farmer, he doesn’t grow oysters or have a bakery. He’s a journalist and a cookbook author. And our subject matter was Acadia, a place that is really defined more by people than by a location. Could this be a “sustainable” food story as our tagline proclaims? We think so. Sustainability isn’t just about organics, it’s about preserving culture, and about entertainment and creativity. So why not?

Along with this different theme, we also approached the film with a bit more intention than normal. Instead of just showing up and filming, we’d make a plan. We could travel through Acadia with Simon as our guide. After a brief interview in his Catholic memorabilia and taxidermy -laden apartment, we hit the road to Grand-Pre for a tour of the historic site commemorating the exile of the Acadian people. We wondered how we could present these places in a way that wasn’t boring. Hunter had the idea of having Simon walk in and out of each historic location — kind of Wes Anderson style.

We drove down the coast, stopping for the famous Rappie Pie at the Roadside Grill as well as a plate of fried clams, all the while setting up each shot of him entering and exiting a scene. The charm of the restaurant made the Rappie Pie go down a little easier, but I was still more inclined toward the clams.

From the diner, we stopped at a few churches and then went down to the docks and onto a friend’s boat. If you think you can’t catch fish, I’d recommend going out for mackerel. You drop a multi-hook line and within seconds we had caught dozens of the silvery fish. Seagulls dramatically followed the boat as we filleted, grasping for the bones and heads.

After filming Simon make some traditional Acadian dishes, we fried the mackerel in butter and ate them with tomatoes from the garden. We sat around the kitchen table with Simon’s generous and funny parents, snacking on their canned clams as dinner was prepared. Heaping the clams onto crackers with cream cheese was one of the best treats of our Nova Scotia trip — as was the company, and their little lakeside cabin we stayed in over night. As Simon would say, you can find Acadia in Grand Pre, Church Point in Belliveaus Cove – but you find it most of all in the home.

I guess in the end, we did make a film like our others…by capturing the spirit of a person and a place. In this case, we needed intentionality, whimsy, a wonderful tour guide, and some graphics (Mirra!) and imagination to bring it alive.

Here is a little unedited video that Hunter took during his 13 hours on a Lobster fishing boat near Halls Harbour.  The color of the sky is real.  This is a pretty much unedited segment from the start of Lobster season. Full videos coming very soon – we are excited to share!

Having traveled extensively for our docu-series, inevitably people ask for food recommendations — most of the time we never get around to writing them down.  Not this time!  We spent a month in Nova Scotia and below are our favorite spots. Whether you are doing a weekend trip from the East Coast (direct flights from Boston and NYC) or something more substantial, it’s good to know that yes, there is Lobster; yes, there are scallops and fish and chips; but one cannot dine on rich seafood alone, so…

The Point General (Blue Rocks)

Take an extra 15 minutes to drive past Lunenburg and check out the idyllic splendor that is Blue Rocks. The quaintest little fishing village is also accompanied by a shack that serves coffee and amazing croissants.  Get those goodies, sit on their deck in the sun, and look at the rock formations, lobster traps and rapidly changing tide.

Halfshell Oyster Bar (Lunenburg)

Lunenburg has a lot of food options and I’m sure many of them are tasty. Inevitably, you’ll be pointed toward the Fish Shack, which has the Nova Scotia staples: lobster, fish and chips, Digby Scallops.  Do eat there.  But adjoining it (and of the same owners) is the Halfshell Oyster Bar.  Just a place to sit at a bar and eat your way across the Maritime region through it’s diverse oysters.  You can do all this while looking across the harbor and having a glass of NS Riesling.

No. 9 (Lunenburg)

My addiction is one where I have to find the best coffee in every town. No 9 has the best coffee, and it’s hipster cute without trying too hard.

The Bite House (Baddeck, Cape Breton)

This is like getting a Michelin star meal in someone’s home — in this case, Bryan Picard’s. He and his girlfriend live upstairs and Bryan is the only cook in the (standard home) kitchen. The bread is made by his dad.  So yeah, Michelin isn’t in Canada, but if it were…

Two Buoys (Baddeck, Cape Breton)

This brighty and airy spot has a super short menu, a dinner plate sized oatmeal cookie and when sitting in the backyard, the simple food and vibe feels like you are at a friends’ house.  There are a lot of places to choose from in the Touristy-but-chill Baddeck…glad we stumbled on this one.  

The Periwinkle Cafe (Ingonish, Cape Breton)

Whenever I order crab, I expect a dainty portion. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a restaurant give as much as is on the breakfast sandwich at The Periwinkle Cafe.  Besides the sandwich, there is perfect espresso, a baby playing in the corner and artwork you want to take home.  It’s as if Brooklyn has returned to its origins: having borrowed the canning and style from the country and small fishing villages, spots like The Periwinkle Cafe have taken it back, putting rustic hip with local ingredients exactly where it belongs.

Ploughman’s Lunch (West Dublin)

Like stepping back in time to a sparsely stocked general store/ ice cream parlor, but instead of leaf lard and canned coffee, this quaintness features water buffalo gelato (from their own water buffalo!), fresh mozzarella, homemade sourdough and flakey croissants.  The young couple who run the place (and make the goods) also sell a small amount of local produce, and random favorites like fish sauce and arborio rice.  Unexpected and completely charming.

Halls Harbour Lobster Pound (Halls Harbour) and The Shore Club (Hubbards)

There are a lot of places to eat Lobster in Nova Scotia, including just buying them from the dock or grocery store. But Lobster Halls make it better in that they boil their Lobsters in Sea Water –and 50 lobsters cooked in the same water makes for a killer poaching liquid.  We visited several but our favorites were these two.  First is Halls Harbour — because you can see the Bay of Fundy’s incredible tide change during a course of a meal. And second, the Shore Club. The restaurant has been around since the 1930s and still feels like it.

The Rolled Oat Cafe (Wolfville)

Looking at the menu I was skeptical: rice bowls and BLTs?  But this place is delicious, with fresh ingredients, well seasoned and cooked. Plus a small kids play area!  Ideal, unpretentious lunch stop.

Lightfoot & Wolfville Winery/Pizzeria (Wolfville)

Besides epic and very fancy new digs including a full restaurant, an outdoor wood oven (with amazing pizza) and tasting room — this place also happens to be the only biodynamic winery in NS, featuring wild yeasted and low sulfite wines that are apparently very delicious.  Also, the owners have a cool story about losing the family land and working to buy it back.

Yeah Yeahs Pizza and Two if by Sea (Dartmouth)

The downstairs of this split level space serves perfect espresso drinks, upstairs makes killer NY style pizza.  If they had a wine bar, you could just never leave this place.    

Highwayman (Halifax)

When you’ve had enough Lobster and maritime cuisine, head over to this Spanish spot with a gin and tonic bar and perfect Spanish tapas.

Edna (Halifax)

Honorable mention: Everyone told us to go here, but we didn’t make it in.  Maybe you can tell us how it is?

The Old Apothecary Bakery (Halifax)

Bread!

Tall and Small (Antogonish)

This place is cute, the best Kombucha I’ve had in a long time, and good sandwiches. Great road trip stopping point.

Donair

There is a unique Donair Kebab in Nova Scotia where the sauce is quite sweet.  I can’t say I’d eat it more than once, but you should probably try it, as an interesting mashup of cultures.

Farmers Markets (Everywhere!)

Our most common meals, of course, were eaten at the home we rented, and Nova Scotia’s abundant farmer’s markets and roadside vendors of fresh vegetables and fish made it so easy and enjoyable to quickly stop on the way back from a shoot.

Nova Scotia is known for its lobster. Since arriving in this beautiful province, my husband is on a “one-a-week” schedule. And he isn’t alone. Each year in Halls Harbour, a rustic fishing village on Nova Scotia’s Bay of Fundy, roughly 2 million pounds of lobster make their way through the Halls Harbour Lobster Pound. Twenty thousand pounds are eaten at the restaurant; the rest is packed into crates and shipped across the province, Canada and the world. That happens every year. But every couple of years, someone will walk into the Lobster Pound, choose a live lobster from the tank, and instead of having their lobster taken back to the kitchen, boiled and plated with drawn butter and a side of rice, potatoes or slaw, they will pay the $12.95/lb to have that lucky crustacean released back into the sea.

I guess “lucky” is depending how you look at it. Some people say it’s cruel to put a lobster back into the water — at least right at the shore. With the epic tides and plentiful traps, a lobster’s chances of making it back home are slim. The best way to do it, we were told, is to go out on a boat and drop the lobster into deeper waters. But even then, they could find their way right back into a trap. During our recent visit, we heard about a 22-lber who was liberated by an excited little boy and his parents. The boy carried that heavy guy down to the shore and watched as his claw bands were cut and he was set free into the waters. It made me sad to think that this creature who can live up to 100 years old, only to be caught and then given a second chance at freedom, would still be doomed to the same fate. But one kind gentleman, who has worked at the lobster pound for years, took me aside as we were leaving: “I know people say otherwise,” He told me. “But I was there the day that lobster was put back into the sea… And I think he had a chance”.

It’s a strange time to be traveling in Nova Scotia: to be posting idyllic pictures of wilderness, delicious seafood, and communities warmly accepting refugees. In fact, right now feels like a strange time to be doing anything besides reflecting, helping, tweeting, fund-raising, and protesting about our doomed climate and political system.  But like us, you probably also have a job that keeps you somewhat busy. And our’s is damn good one: to make films about people and place.

Our films won’t be available for a while, but here are some pictures of our adventures so far:

Three times a year, my brothers and I celebrate each of our respective birthdays together at Matt’s –  the dive bar home of the Juicy Lucy (the Juicy Lucy is probably Minnesota’s biggest claim to fame behind Prince).   We spend the meal talking about the past year, and the year ahead.  Last year, while avoiding hot cheese burns from the molten burgers, my family and I were about to embark on a 2 month trip to Ireland…  and this year, we are about to travel for a similar “filmmaker in residence” to Nova Scotia.  In between, there was a 6 week shoot in Mexico City (we are using those films to make a longer piece that will be submitted to film festivals) and the Immigrant Family Dinner Project that many of you supported (we are almost done with 2 of the 5 films promised, and will begin releasing them this fall).

We leave tomorrow and just started packing this morning… that feels good.  Our first big trip as a family to Colorado involved weeks of thinking about, planning, packing, stressing, re-packing etc.  But after going away for three extended film shoots, the edge is gone and we can just be excited about spending some time in a new place.  The only down side of this trip is that our dog Frankie is staying behind and that Hunter is only coming for a week this time.

Why Nova Scotia?  If you’re asking, you probably haven’t been.  I went for a wedding years ago and my memories involve Lobster, fish shacks, crystal clear and freezing cold (i like that) ocean, crazy tides and the nicest people I’ve come across (they say hi to strangers from the other side of the street).

We are going to be making five films and a montage during our stay, also we’ll be back on the instagram, blog and twitter train, so follow along if you are into that.  Also, I’m sure there will be lots of pictures of the seafood James and I are eating (sorry Mirra).

Kickstarter campaigns are hard, but doing this campaign inspired us:

We were inspired by your generosity — from donations of $1.00 up to $5,000.

We were inspired by the kindness of our “neighbors” as we received donations from Ireland, Australia, England, Mexico, Singapore and Tajikistan.

We were inspired by the countless “Thank you, I am an immigrant” stories sent in comments and emails.

We were inspired by our friends from the past who surprised us by their support in this, and new friends who we met through the campaign.

We were inspired by one such new friend, Benny, who was an early contributor. He sent in $50 and a beautiful note about a refugee who made an impact on him. Not long afterwards, he increased his pledge to $125 by selling a few things around his house — because, as he said, this was important to him.

We were inspired by Tim from Ireland whose incredible SECOND donation put us over the $50K mark last night.

We were inspired by the friends in the food and travel industries who reached out to offer up amazing rewards.

Were were inspired by people like Matt B, Barb A, Jon W, Coley, River, Leslie and organizations like IOM and Define American who were promoting and supporting this as much as we were — as if it were their own project.

We were inspired by the 6 weeks we spent in Mexico during this campaign… where we heard countless stories from Mexicans who had lived in the US, who still had family there, who were deported, and who knew that the US government is not it’s people, and that we are neighbors.

We were inspired by the moving and devastating stories around the globe: of ICE crackdowns and of lawyers at airports, of chemical attacks and of families welcoming Syrian refugees in Chicago.

And, of course, we were inspired by immigrant and refugee stories and people the world over, stories that we hope to share in this film series… of our common human experience.

We can’t thank you enough.  Now back to work (story ideas welcome)!