Every person that steps on Isle au Haut – be they hiker, camper,
sightseer, worker, repairman, photographer, news reporter, house guest
or whatever – becomes a member of this small community the instant their toes touch the town dock. When you visit an island as small as ours,
you don’t really have the luxury of being a casual observer. If there
is a fire, we may ask you to haul buckets. If someone goes missing, we
may sign you onto a search party. If there is a parade, we may invite
you to construct a float, or bang a drum, or honk a horn. We will
encourage you to participate in our annual talent show, or make a
cameo in the island contra dance band, or bring a dish to one of our potlucks in the town hall. 

In return, for the time that you are here, we give you our home. We
invite you to take the memory of it with you and to make it, in your own
way, yours.

This way of thinking of things is so ingrained in me at this point, that I forget that most of the rest of the world isn't like this. Summer visitors from out of state often express surprise when they stumble upon our cafe and discover that it is a merely an anteroom to our home. For the moment, our "chocolate factory" is our home kitchen; our "employees" are gracious, supportive friends who want to see us succeed; our "shipping facility" the morning mailboat; our "interim shippers" the good-natured mailboat captains well-bribed with chocolate and home-made donuts.

If visitors are surprised that our cafe is part of our home, then they are also completely bewildered that anyone finds us at all. Tucked away at the edge of spruce forest, under the shadowy granite face of Black Dinah Mountain, the cafe is at the end of a rough dirt road (or a pretty forest trail, depending on how you get to us, and which wrong turns you made on the way) improbably marked with a rough wooden sign scratched with an arrow pointing you in generally the right direction. Often, the journey requires visitors to ask an islander for directions. Or to make a wrong turn, and in so doing, embark on a small adventure that lives large in each intrepid day-tripper's memory.  

A hiker from Washington, DC once declared, "I have never veered so far off the beaten path for chocolate in my life!" And sometime last summer, a few weary NYC yachters arrived after closing and purchased an entire raspberry pie. After firmly asserting (in the way that only New Yorkers can) that they would not be making the trek back the next day to return my pie plate, they were even more taken aback when I told them they could just leave it on the bench at the town dock – I would pick it up on my way to the mailboat the next day. "But won't someone take it?" they gasped. "If they need to bake a pie and they don't have a plate and just happen to stumble upon this one," I said. And then I assured them, that even in that unlikely event, the pie plate would find its way back – either via the haphazard baker directly, or at a future town potluck.  

The next day, in spite of their assertions, the New Yorkers did come back – to return my plate and gather dessert for that night's dinner. "We didn't just want to leave it," they explained. But when they came in again that afternoon, and then again the next day, I knew something else other than mere caution had gotten ahold of them. When I sent them back to their boat with another pie three days later, they gushed their regrets that they would not be returning the next day. We said goodbye in my cafe/living room and I collected my pie plate from the town dock the next morning.  

Was it my pie? The tiramisu? Our hand made truffles – that kept these people coming back? As much as I'd like to believe that, I just don't think so. I think they figured out that they belonged.

In this spirit, I hope you consider joining myself, and my friends Diana Santospago and Linda Greenlaw, at our homes and businesses for a unique island culinary retreat this June. Check out dates and a description of the getaway at innatisleauhaut.com. I look forward to meeting you!

Kate Shaffer is a contributing writer to MF&L, Chocolatier, and resident of Isle au Haut.