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Contact: Glenn M. Faria
Michael Patrick Destinations & Communications
396 Main Street, Suite 3, Hyannis, Cape Cod
Massachusetts 02601
508-790-0566/Fax 508-790-0565
e-mail: info@mpdcltd.com
Finding Your Own
Thrill - at Blueberry Hill
An Alpine Retreat Nestled in the Bosom of the Green Mountains
(Goshen, VT Summer 00) - Tony Clark found
his thrill - at Blueberry Hill. When the Welshman turned
his key in the front door of Blueberry Hill Farm for the
first time in 1968, never did he imagine that, three years later,
he'd be letting rooms to guests and catering to their culinary
fancies as the innkeeper of Blueberry Hill. Clark and
his new bride planned to restore the 1813 farmhouse to its former
splendor, but the vagaries of the life and times of Tony Clark
dictated this new vocation, providing both a job and a source
of income. Once again, Clark never imagined that he would survive
even a month of innkeeping. Thirty years later, he could not
imagine having survived doing anything else. And the flags of
65 nations have flown outside the inn in honor of arriving overseas
visitors - a subtle, but welcoming, gesture for the inn's long
haul travelers.
Nestled in the lofty Moosalamoo region of the Green Mountains,
Blueberry Hill beams a warm and enduring welcome to those
who cross its threshold. Year after year almost since the building
itself was built, it has been a "home away from home"
to someone. Seems like some buildings were just born to feel
like home. And so it is with Blueberry Hill.
Inn guests become part of a special family, sharing together
in nature's bounteous beauty - open lands, spectacular vistas,
clean sweet alpine air and peace and serenity - and partaking
of a "Special Way of Life," as Clark likes to phrase
it. From the dozen comfortably appointed guest rooms and cottage
- each with a handmade quilt and an ensemble of amenities including
inn-made herbal bath salts and body lotion - to the pristine
20 acres of grounds and gardens, the inn envelops its guests
in grand Vermont hospitality.
But the innkeeper does not want the world to intrude and will
not permit inn guests to be disturbed by telephone, television
or bedside radios.
Beautifully appointed common rooms are reminiscent of one's own
parlor: comfortable seating, a warming fire in the hearth, strains
of laughter and merriment emanating from one of a dozen cozy
niches throughout the inn. Read a book. Paint a painting. Plant
a tree. Ski a mile. Write a novel. Invent something. The nurturing,
healthful environment lends itself to such pastimes.
Now let's talk about food. Tony Clark, a Welshman, was raised
in Bordeaux, France by his bon vivant father, a noted wine export
merchant. And his parents entertained the "Who's
Who" of wines in France - and that's saying something.
Even the lightest of hors d'oeuvres were never given short shrift.
And so it is at Blueberry Hill. Guests' first culinary
impressions might include a charcuterie board - not your typical
cheese and crackers this. Clark, a true gourmand, takes starters
very seriously. And Clark's palate wanders much further afield
than the dismal English staples proffered by Two Fat Ladies.
As he puts it, "we play with food." No other
explanation could justify the development of the
imaginative new ways in which the inn sates its guests' appetites.
Clark, a perfectionist, insists that Chef Timothy Cheevers, of
British provenance, use only local game, free range fowl and
the finest cuts of meats. And Cheevers would not even dream of
having it any other way given his penchant for "cutting
edge cuisine."
Blueberry Hill guests do relish their dinners. And they
are truly to be savored. The evening repast is decidedly unhurried
and the setting is sublime: a warmly-lit, spacious and convivial
dining room hung with herbs, a crackling fire and the aromas
so beguiling. But the gustatory experience is separate from the
feeling of warmth, friendship and community - Gemütlichkeit,
as the Germans name the combination of these feelings. The staff
seems to know which guests will meld the best over dinner - or
not, as guests prefer - an uncanny knack acquired over years
of reading guests. But it is nearly impossible to experience
Blueberry Hill and remain an island. Perfect proportions
of memorable cuisine, revitalizing accommodations and burgeoning
friendships are ideal precursors to deep and restful slumber.
Now let's talk about breakfast.
Morning does not impose itself on guests of Blueberry Hill.
A symphony awakens guests from their slumber. First, the eastern
sky lightens, followed by the faint, but unmistakable aroma of
the inn's rich freshly brewed coffee. Guests begin to stir. Then
Pastry Chef Linda stokes up the ovens for morning's baked goods
and inn-made granola. This is as much as anyone can withstand.
Guests can take morning coffee in the Greenhouse, where
the tendrils and foliage might well be one's only company, if
it's before baking time. A comfortable wing chair by the parlor
fireplace is just enough like being under the covers to offer
respite from the still-awakening world. "Breakfast
is served."
Nourishing Vermont breakfasts are welcome precursors to active
days on ski or hiking trails, on mountain bikes, in the garden,
at the easel or behind the lens.
In between meals (for those here to indulge all of their vices),
there are always Clark's prized Blueberry Hill Chocolate
Chip Cookies. They're legendary - and readily available at
all times in the guest pantry, along with ever-fresh pots of
coffee, tea or hot chocolate. Do not ask for the recipe - it's
truly secret.
Shari Brown, Clark's spouse, oversees everything botanical at
the inn. Starting with the inn's splendid herb garden and including
the inn's new greenhouse, if it grows, it's Brown's domain. Brown
studied with the renowned Rosemary Gladstar at the California
School of Herbal Studies with an education center in Barre, Vermont.
The inn's gardens and greenhouses require the care of three staff
members as there are more than 50 varieties of culinary and 25
varieties of medicinal herbs and scores of perennial flowers.
Brown is proud of her handiwork and offers guests tours of the
gardens and, commencing this year, tours of the new greenhouse.
The inn also markets its own line of Blueberry Hill herbal
bath salts and body lotions, all prepared with the inn's own
herbs.
The inn's accommodations are more than comfortable. They are
home-like. One does dare to touch everything in his room without
fear of breakage. The Blueberry Hill "experience"
has to be, well, experienced. It is more than a place to hang
one's hat for the night. Not cute or contrived, the experience
is more than memorable. After just a few hours at the inn, guests
find their own rhythms here. The accommodation, cuisine, staff-guest
interaction, the vast forests with their flora and fauna, solitude,
serenity and, without a doubt, the pastoral, bucolic location
itself combine into a welcome yet unnameable elixir. Blueberry
Hill might well sit in a wrinkle in time, yet, inexorably, time
marches on.
Blueberry Hill is like a quilt - its guests like so many
pieces of patch to be integrated into the whole. And each guest
does leave something of himself behind. For in those stressful
or unhappy times, guests truly find themselves ruminating, again
and again, about that special place at the end of an unassuming
forest service road and to the welcome and special way of life
they found there and were a part of. |
