Today I write about a culinary ‘to have loved and lost’. As humans we tend to grasp on to things we hold dear; our children, a favorite pair of jeans, places where we’ve encountered happiness. I am an overly nostalgic individual so it is not surprising that through the wee hours of this morning my mind pondered repetitiously the withering of Wildflowers. This destination is one of my most revered retreats.
Recently my husband and I celebrated our 13th wedding anniversary. Well, what we really did was acknowledge the day, open a good bottle of wine and go on with the busyness of our lives. Still in the back of our heads was a need to visit our spot. Without fail, each anniversary we have carved out a little time to call on Lamberville/New Hope. Though we antique, window shop, stop for java, a drink or snack at favored spots, our anniversary is not truly recognized until we’ve had our meal at Wildflowers.
In the late 1990’s we had our very first date in Lamberville/New Hope and a meal at this unassuming restaurant. We also had our second and even third first dates at this spot along the Delaware. Ours was not a one and done courtship. My husband was ultra conservative, had a plan for his future and a picture in his mind of how it should look. I was a strong minded single mother with my own expectations and focus that revolved mostly, and rightly so, around my little boy. Eventually our mindsets blended, we were married and on our first anniversary there was a singular destination on both of our agendas. That place was 8 West Mechanic Street, New Hope.
Those who descend South Main Street in New Hope are welcomed by a myriad of interesting architecture, landmarks and store fronts. A most engaging façade is the recently refurbished Bucks County Playhouse. This formidable structure, built in the 1790’s, keeps a watchful eye over New Hope, a town which took its name from this very establishment once called New Hope Mills. Wildflowers restaurant is easily missed as you stroll past the playhouse. The white lights intermingled with tree branches and weeping foliage cloak the outdoor seating area built, as if by nature, into the rocky moss covered embankment that stretches up from the river. Once the corner is turned and you ascend Mechanic Street the charming ivy clad and eclectic restaurant front soon comes into view. The multi-cuisine menu; Thai, Mexican and American, may, however, raise an eyebrow but let me be clear. I am no food connoisseur but I am a food lover and not once in 15 years has this menu let me, nor any who have dined upon our recommendation, down. The fact I was able to convince my husband to enter this nontraditional establishment years past is a wonder. We ducked our heads, journeyed down the thin stone and mortar hallway, and found our special place.
Those who require a pat on the back, a bow and a waiter baring an English mustache as you dine need not enter Wildflowers’ grounds. However, foodies who appreciate delicious selections served timely, accompanied by tasty beverages and a happy laid back staff might benefit from a visit. Though the seating is close knit and limited it’s just one more unique Wildflower characteristic that we find endearing. Beholding a Guadalajara Margarita, anticipating my Pad Thai (repeatedly the best I’ve ever had) as I sit cocooned beneath a canopy of greenery, I’m in my happy place. It’s almost as if the dancing candles, flickering white lights and Buddha heads are smiling back at me.
Last night I learned ‘our place’ is up for sale. The owners, who have tirelessly managed this gem for decades, are moving on. Many years ago we asked their amicable host, Walter, how long Wildflower’s had been open. With so many businesses closing doors we were concerned this wonderful eatery might me another new and ungrounded venture. Once we learned that Wildflowers had been expertly plating food, since I believe the late 80’s, we clanked our glasses in a toast. An eventual retirement did not enter our minds.
I’m aged enough to understand that all things change. Our oldest is in college and youngest can now write and spell. I recall a black ankle length pencil skirt sporting a high slit that I wore on my first date to Wildflowers. These days it would fit expertly on one of my thighs. Things change and we must accept them, move on, and find other happy places… and wardrobes. One must be smart and remember the luckiest of places is life. The ability to revere old favorites and experience new joys is a blessing.
Perhaps a talented chef will happen upon Wildflowers, recognize a good thing and re-open as Wildflowers Forever – But however our treasured go-to eatery is transformed in the years to come, we will always remember it as it once was.
Wildflowers will be around until at least early 2013. I for one will try my best to dine there as often as possible… until the curtains close. My heart and pallet are not quite ready to say goodbye. We’ve experienced meals at many fantastic restaurants, but for us, none have that enchanting meets lackadaisical atmosphere embodied by this destination.
Though Alfred Lord Tennyson may not have been discussing culinary amore when he wrote these words, and though it might be an ultra-dramatic end to my piece, I’ll retell them still;
Alfred Lord Tennyson’s poem In Memoriam:27, 1850:
I hold it true, whate’er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
‘Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.
[…] The story behind Wildflowers, and a happier portrayal of New Hope, is contained in the following; https://littletwits.wordpress.com/2012/10/02/withering-wildflowers-a-culinary-reflection-2/ . Though we typically enjoy our treks to New Hope, today we had a very different […]