Nice set of training wheels you've got there Ryan. Hopefully your parking skills are a bit better than Daddy's: if he says there's room between you and the concrete pillar you have pre-authorization to disobey.
There's no better place to spend a balmy 4th of July weekend than the rugged shores of Maine, where red, white, and blue lobster buoys bob playfully in the sparkling Atlantic and the grills are sizzling with the bounty of the sea.
Speaking of bounty, the legendary Bob's Clam Shack on Route 1 delivers half a trawler worth of succulent Maine lobster. Ryan picked a good weekend to switch to solids. Although the melt-in-your-mouth lobster hardly qualifies as a solid.
A quick pit stop in the quaint New England town of Kittery Point where Rock's diaper change clocks in at a sharp 3.4 seconds. Next up, the McLaren pit crew.
For most of its history Portland, ME was one of those towns always burdened with a suffix just to differentiate it from its more famous, or these days more hipster, cousin. You know like Palmerston North. Because it's impossible to out-hip Palmerston, population 795.
Anyway, in recent years the Northeast version has stepped out of the shadows to become a foodie destination in its own right. In fact in 2016 it finds itself in that ephemeral moment where the experimental and the daring are in full flight but real estate prices and douche bags have yet to crowd them out. A case in point: you can stay in a giant four story Victorian mansion for the price of a hotel in most cities.
Speaking of douche bags, I bet they're all real happy to see the obnoxious Manhattan crowd setting up shop in the quiet West End neighborhood.
Which of the three formal sitting rooms shall we retire to for an after dinner drink? Or perhaps the enclosed sun porch?
Hang on, the locals aren't blameless either: this looks suspiciously like an attempt to lure the foodie crowd up I-95.
Ryan is confused by all the green stuff out the window. Where he comes from windows look at something real estate agents like to call intimate city views. In other words there's a concrete wall a foot away but every leap-year spring equinox you get 33 minutes of sunshine reflected off the office building two doors down.
Boda, a Maine-centric take on Thai street food, delivers the kind of meal that would require a wait so long in Bushwick that it would be faster to drive the five hours to Portland instead. It's that good.
Fried quail eggs with a hint of soy sauce served in a reclaimed biscuit tin. It's all wasted on Ryan, he doesn't care if his bottle is farm-to-table or Amazon-to-table.
Eastland! Because East Side is where it's at baby. There's a reason Ryan's middle name isn't West Broadway.
Forget about what Chairwomen Yellen is up too, this is the single best leading indicator for year-ahead property prices.
You can't call yourself Portland without a thriving street food scene.
I'll have the Old Fashioned with a twist of those yummy pureed sweet potatoes Mommy brought along.
This guy can barely keep 800 square feet running, don't let him loose on four floors of Victorian splendor. Or at least make sure you've banked the security deposit.
Tandem Coffee Roasters is so hip if you put it in Brooklyn it would be a caricature. But out here it just works. Converted gas station, check. Single-speed tandem bike logo crafted out of reclaimed fuel pipes, check. Bearded barista with fedora, check. Wannabe hipster lurking outside taking Instagrams for this three followers, check.
And the nominees for Most Shameful Attempt to Gatecrash the Hipster Movement are: Urban Outfitters, Rochester Cahan, and Taco Bell's Cantina-Style Street Tacos.
Mommy in the kitchen? Come on now, don't scare Ryan by disrupting the routine. What next, Mommy with a vacuum cleaner?
The old port of Portland has all the raw materials needed to hand-craft a hipster strip: industrial chic, over-sized brick warehouses, cobblestone streets, dumb New Yorkers willing to pay double for anything with artisanal in the name.
Hubei Cats on the prowl. Preferably for hand-churned organic ice creams.
Decisions, decisions: to start with the locally-grown potato flour donuts or the pasture-raised flank steak?
Look Mommy, my Ergobaby comes with a built-in selfie stick!
Outliers Eatery delivers a three standard deviation gastronomical event. No winsorization up here folks.
Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the cutest of them all?
Hipsters in Training need the proper uniform.
Introducing the Maine event: Ryan Lexington Cahan.
But Daddy, I'm very chilled. I lounge on your chest and watch the world go by and then someone pumps milk in my mouth. One day I'll have to pay 600 bucks a head for that kind of bottle service.
Three generations of noodle lover. The Honey Paw further cements Portland's reputation as a hot bed of Asian fusion cuisine. Ryan fits right in.
Daddy, that lobster laksa would fit nicely in my bottle.
Last stop on the New England tour, the great city of Boston. As cold-brew coffee lovers it's time for a Boston Tea Party re-enactment. The fish in the harbor always wanted to try a green tea frappuccino anyway.
Beacon Hill, make sure you bring your WASP repellent.
A house from back when Brexiting got you a hero's welcome and the White House instead of a tabloid roasting and a early checkout from 10 Downing Street.
Ryan's first 4th of July kicks off in, surprise, surprise, a coffee shop. Daddy is going to need every drop of that caffeine to get to fireworks time.
Party like it's 1776!
