Photo: Madeleine Ignon

My birthday is next week, and I’m finding myself thinking back to my last few. On the day I turned 21, I caught an early morning Greyhound bus from New York to New London, Connecticut, the town where I went to college, to catch a ride with a bunch of friends up to Maine. I will never forget that whole week in Vinalhaven, a tiny island reachable only by a ferry from Rockland. One evening, sitting around a raging campfire, wrapped in blankets, our hair and clothes quickly absorbing the heavy smell of smoke, we played a game and giggled until the woods around us were fully dark and quiet. The island is a place of immense physical beauty and grand summer sunsets, but I was more enchanted with the population of year-round residents and the unbreakable sense of community (the population is around 1200).

Photo: Madeleine Ignon

I had the pleasure of sharing an outdoor meal with one Vinalhaven family (which preceded the campfire), and at the meal’s end, a sheet of freshly-made “bark” was brought out. I had never heard of such a thing, but jumped at the chance to try what was clearly a tradition. I had already been convinced to have my first lobster that week, mere hours after being caught, and couldn’t imagine that anything could be more “Vinalhaven” than that. The bark was a perfect mixture of salty and sweet, and took all of 15 minutes beginning to end.

This is my version, although I imagine it won’t ever taste as good as it did in Vinalhaven. It is particularly great around a campfire or on camping trips. And feel free to add any other additional toppings-anything works.