Good News
and Gram's Apple Pancake
Remember Dinner for a Song when I got to cook for musicians while they made a record at Great North Sound Studio?
(It’s not essential that you do, but if you want a refresher, it’s a short read.)
Dinner is done. Now, the songs are ready.
Kris sent me the record when it was finished, and man, I had to sit down. Then she asked if I’d want to write the liner notes, and I really had to sit down. I did that thing that I tend to do, for better and for worse, and said yes to something I was totally unqualified to do. Whirl is king. Novelty above all etc…
Turns out, trying to write about music is like trying to answer a goddamned cosmic trick question. I was knocked back again and again by the limitations of my language, which I’m pretty sure is also part of the trick. I made a first try at writing about music, and I had a good hard time trying. Below is the closest I could get to describing my own experience with the songs, which is different from what your experience will be. Listening for yourself is the only way, but sometimes an aperitif is nice.
You can buy the record here and take a look at tour dates. Kris and the whole band are out on the road with these songs now. I’ll be going to see the May 2nd show if you want to come help paint the little town of Brownfield, Maine, red. You can listen here before you buy, but do buy. I mean, look at those faces. Humans. They made something for you.
In the most recent installment of things I’m not qualified to do but agree to do anyway: I’m judging a poetry competition. Yikes. There are four other qualified judges, I think it’ll be ok.
Sarah Orne Jewett, whom the competition is inspired by, is a giant to me. I grew up in the town that made her house the center of itself. I learned to love books in the rooms of her home that became our town library. I learned to love my off-brand self and my pass-through place by reading her unapologetic accounts of her own. I mythologized the initials she carved into her bedroom window. In revisiting her work recently, the myths hold up.
I don’t naturally lean toward judgment or reading with a critical eye, so this will be challenging, but good, and I’m excited to do it. It’s a project put on by Liar's Bench Beer and Historic New England, and we need poems. Maybe you’d like to write one? I’d like to read it. That’s the main reason I agreed to do this—I’d like to read your poems.
My friend, Dagan - host and creator of the event, champion of the arts, local color, and a sleeper cell of a writer himself, explains it all here:
Outside of our four walls hangs a mural dedicated to Sarah Orne Jewett. Born in South Berwick, Maine, SOJ was a prolific writer of short stories, novels, children’s books, and poetry. A noted realist and regionalist, she captured Maine’s coastal life through richly drawn characters and natural settings. Her writing emphasized nature and human connection.
And in her spirit we are collaborating with Historic New England and calling all inspired writers to enter our Flash Poetry Competition for a chance to win a cash prize and have their poem featured on the 2026 can design of Deephaven, a Helles Lager brewed with fresh hops from ME.
This competition celebrates the power of words to capture place, history, and community—just as Jewett did in her writing. Inspired by her deep connection to Maine’s landscapes and people, the contest invites poets to explore the theme of “Local Color” in 65 words or fewer.
The Flash Poetry Competition is part of a broader effort to spotlight overlooked voices through art and storytelling. Follow the link in the bio for the submission form. All entrants are invited to attend our Poems + Pints event on April 24th, where finalists will not only be announced, but encouraged to read their submissions.
Submission deadline—April 14th
Here is the link to the submission form and information.
Last bit of good news is it’s Sunday morning and the ideal time to make my gram’s apple pancake, so here is the recipe. She was making Dutch babies before Dutch babies were cool on the internet. She just called them pancakes. This is the first time I’ve made it from her recipe card since she died. She didn’t specify the size of the skillet, so I used a 10” and it filled it nicely, but I think I remember hers in a huge pan, so I’m going to try the 12” next time. I followed everything to the word except for sifting the flour, and I used whole milk because I won’t skim the pleasure from my milk even for her.
Nothing wild in this one, just apples, but it was so easy and welcoming, I’ve got all kinds of plans for it once spring foraging begins. Morels, trout, wild leeks, nettles, soft cheeses, wild strawberries, and on…
If you use the recipe, even loosely, I’d love to hear about it. It’s one I’d like to spend some time with, and I’d love company, so do share thoughts, notes, and photos here if you’d like.
I’m going to Florida in a few days to see my family. Gonna take next week off. See you on the other side. XO.
Question about Apple pancake make. Is the cast iron pan preheated in oven before adding batter? Thanks!
First time listen of Ghosts in the Garden the instrumental rhythms of dusting drums and haunting guitar cords held me. Second time the stories came forward in songs like Your Not The Only One and Lucky River. What a gift to experience in this world right now. Thank you Jenna for sharing your grandmothers apple pancake recipe. It looks heavenly.