How to Have a Rom-Com Vacation in Ocean City, Maryland
Pack your best fire emoji-worthy swimsuit and add the activities below to your itinerary. From the deliciously unhinged (do it for the group chat!) to the adorably cheesy (go get that kiss at the top of the Ferris wheel, girlie), the destination offers no shortage of ways to live out the most iconic rom-com plotlines.
Aside from a makeover, nothing makes for a better montage than a date packed with wholesome activities. Ocean City's boardwalk contains nearly three miles of opportunities for cute AF moments to mentally snapshot. Some suggestions: Share a bucket of Thrasher's fries—served with apple-cider vinegar, never ketchup (it's a whole thing); hit the Kite Loft and then fly your colorful purchase on the beach; commemorate the day with a fun portrait at Flashback Old Time Photos; win each other obnoxiously big stuffed animals at Jolly Roger Pier arcade and amusement park; and, finally, take a ride on the Giant Wheel and make the people in the car behind you think, Get a room.
Maybe you're waiting for the *perfect* moment, or maybe you've already had a makeout sesh that was just a tad underwhelming. Don't stress! With the right backdrop, that firework-inducing kiss is in your future. Here's what you're gonna do: Make a reservation at a bayfront restaurant like Fager's Island. Not only are this spot's crab cakes on point, but they time the sunset to Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture every. Single. Day. Once you hear the 15-minute climactic masterpiece start pumping through the speakers, hightail it to the gazebo on the restaurant's private pier to make your move as the dramatic crescendo hits.
Grand gestures don't have to be expensive; at Assateague Island National Seashore, you can let its herd of free-roaming horses do the impressing for you. (One thing, though: Since they're wild, you can't feed or touch these cuties. The park rangers recommend observing them from at least 40 feet away.) In addition to the wildlife, the barrier island is known for its peaceful, rustic beaches, making it picnic-perfect. Pro tip: Pack a cooler with delish provisions from a specialty shop like the market at Touch of Italy. Try the Antipasti Della Casa (a cheese-and-charcuterie board for two), or pick up a couple of stacked Italian heroes to split.
So your bestie invited someone you can't stand on the group trip? We all know how this trope plays out. You and the crew will rent kayaks to explore one of the area's photogenic salt marshes. You'll get stuck sharing a tandem with said person and drift away from the rest of the group because *someone* isn't paddling hard enough. Your bickering will cause the boat to tip over, and a crab will bite one of their toes (because, well, Maryland). The whole ordeal is pure comedy, so suddenly you're both laughing and—wait. Did you just catch feels? Yeah, you did.
Fun fact: The Orange Crush—a summery bevvy made with freshly squeezed orange juice, vodka, triple sec, and a splash of lemon-lime soda—was invented in Ocean City, Maryland. Speaking of crushes, what are you waiting for? Take them to a picturesque bar, order a round of *the* cocktail and have *the* convo. Might we suggest Harborside Bar & Grill, where the drink originates, or Seacrets, which has a distillery on its six-acre bayfront compound? Even if the feelings aren't mutual, you're sure to lock eyes with someone new at one of the latter's 17 (yes, you read that right) bars.
You're no damsel in distress, but as so many rom-coms have taught us, there's nothing a potential love interest loves more than overconfidently flaunting their skills. Cosplay this narrative and prepare for a meet-cute at one of Ocean City's many championship courses, such as Rum Pointe Seaside Golf Links. Then, once you've captured the attention—and heart—of the pro, flip the script and show off your real talent. In this movie, it's what scores you the one. Not a golf girlie? This method plays equally well on a fishing charter or a paddleboard tour—both of which are abundant in Ocean City.
Start filming your Ocean City rom-com with a trip to the seaside destination. Visit ococean.com.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Axios
19 minutes ago
- Axios
High-end Mediterranean restaurant coming to Mass Ave
An upscale Mediterranean-inspired restaurant and lounge is coming to Mass Ave next month. Driving the news: Dusk will open in early August in the space vacated by World of Beer at the end of 2023, restaurateur Nasco Angelov told Axios. The first floor will be a 135-seat restaurant and patio, which Dusk is expanding beyond the outdoor space World of Beer occupied. The basement will be a weekend-only speakeasy serving craft cocktails and bottle service with space for about 80. Zoom in: Angelov said the menu will be Mediterranean-inspired, drawing from Greek, Lebanese, Moroccan and Italian cuisines. Entrees will be priced between $30-$50, he said. The vibe: Swanky. Think Miami or Tulum, Angelov said, with a big city lounge element. The large marble bar will be backlit and flanked by fire towers built into the tiled wall. DJ booths will be on both floors, and there will be live music on the weekends. Wood panels hang from the ceiling and rich grasscloth covers most of the walls — with the exception of a wall of original 1900 brick that the team cleaned up and restored to honor the building's 125-year history. Plus: Wait until you see the wallpaper in the women's bathroom. It may single-handedly bring back the bathroom selfie. If you go: 409 Mass Ave.
Boston Globe
25 minutes ago
- Boston Globe
This album has been on top of the classical music Billboard charts for weeks, and it's from a video game
From "Clair Obscur: Expedition 33." Sandfall Interactive But my mind was made up when the screen brightened after a battle versus one of the mysterious, spindly creatures that populate the world of 'Clair Obscur,' and I heard singing. Several unaccompanied voices braided, separated, weaved back together in a fashion that sounded like it could have come straight from the pen of Get Starting Point A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday. Enter Email Sign Up Pretty much the whole world, as it turned out. 'Expedition 33,' developed by the small French studio Sandfall Interactive, had broken containment. Even French President Advertisement Founder, CEO, and creative director of Sandfall Interactive Guillaume Broche works on the newly developed video game "Clair Obscur, Expedition 33" at the Sandfall Interactive headquarters. GABRIEL BOUYS/Getty Advertisement The composer behind most of the music is French guitarist Lorien Testard, a self-professed game music fanatic who had never created music for a major game before, and joined the project after lead writer Guillaume Broche stumbled across his music on an online forum and reached out. Testard didn't respond to an interview request, but in a video featurette the studio released earlier this year, the composer said he'd wanted to create an 'entire sound universe,' and he'd taken much inspiration from art director Nicholas Maxson-Francombe's 'evocative and stunning' concept illustrations. Concept art from "Clair Obscur: Expedition 33." Sandfall Interactive But just as important was Testard's collaboration with singer Alice Duport-Percier, former singer of the polished nerdy-classical fusion group Grissini Project as well as a core member of several early music ensembles, including Les Kapsber'girls, a clever allusion to the 15th-century Italian lutenist and composer Kapsberger. (Their 2021 album ' After Testard invited Duport-Percier to sing on the soundtrack, she initially thought she'd just be working off the score. Instead, Testard invited her to compose and improvise her own vocal lines over his instrumentals. The first day they collaborated, they created one of the major themes for the game, which they said made it into the final cut almost unaltered. 'It felt like beginner's luck, like winning a board game the first time you play,' Duport-Percier said in the featurette. Advertisement From "Clair Obscur: Expedition 33." Sandfall Interactive Conductor and arranger Daniel Sicard, who led the sessions for the music that was recorded live, was similarly enchanted. 'This isn't some big production making just another game,' he said. 'There's a genuine emotional connection.' In video games, as in so much popular entertainment, we are living in the age of franchise dominance. Unsurprisingly, this year so far, most of the hype and press have gone to major players in the industry releasing new installments based on existing intellectual properties: for example, 'Sid Meier's Civilization VII,' 'Monster Hunter Wilds,' and 'The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion Remastered,' each of which has roots going back decades. By contrast, 'Clair Obscur' features a totally original narrative. It feels apt that it released just a few days after the US theatrical debut of Ryan Coogler's ' The same goes for listening to the soundtrack. You'll probably pick up on a theme — perhaps the sweet and sad melody for the ruined city of Advertisement From "Clair Obscur: Expedition 33." Sandfall Interactive Which is to say, there are classical pieces on the 'Clair Obscur' soundtrack, but the eight-hour album also contains jazz, symphonic rock, ambient, dance, chanson-esque chamber pop, and more classifications than this article can hold. I'm not sure if I'd personally label the entire eight-hour soundtrack as 'classical,' but there is certainly a critical mass of pieces that I'm dying to hear from live musicians, whether that's a solo cellist or guitarist, a chamber choir, or a full orchestra. And if the powers that be at Billboard deem it's classical, I won't complain. Andrea Bocelli will probably be back up there soon enough. A.Z. Madonna can be reached at
National Geographic
3 hours ago
- National Geographic
The story behind pavlova, the dessert that sparked an international rivalry
This article was produced by National Geographic Traveller (UK). Sweet as it tastes, this much-loved dessert has a bitter history. As is the case with both hummus and hamburgers, the pavlova's birthplace is hotly disputed, with Australia and New Zealand each claiming credit for the idea of crowning towers of billowing meringue with clouds of snowy cream and tumbling fruit. Regular shots are fired back and forth across the Tasman Sea, most recently when a Kiwi energy company 'declared war' by installing an advert at Auckland Airport baggage reclaim stating: 'Home is where the pavlova was really created'. Reactions on the other side of 'the ditch' were outraged: 'Nice of them to promote tourism to Australia' was one online comment. The feud goes all the way to the top, as then Kiwi prime minister Jacinda Ardern discovered when she arrived in Melbourne to find a DIY pavlova kit in her hotel room — prompting her partner to question whether this represented a 'sense of humour or diplomatic incident'. King Charles must have been unaware of the simmering controversy when he boldly praised Sydney's 'world famous cuisine … whether it's smashed avo, a pav or a cab sav' in a speech at the city's Parramatta Park last year. Yet, in truth, the pavlova's precise origins are shrouded in mystery. It was almost certainly named for the great prima ballerina Anna Pavlova, from St Petersburg — probably to celebrate her hugely successful 1926 tour of Australia and New Zealand. This wasn't uncommon practice at the time; peach melba was invented at London's Savoy Hotel to pay tribute to the Australian soprano Dame Nellie Melba, while Britain's Garibaldi biscuit honours the Italian revolutionary, who was given a rapturous welcome on a visit to these shores. Such was the vogue for sprinkling stardust over a menu that, at the height of Pavlova's career, you can find mention of sponge cakes, layered jellies and 'a popular variety of American ice-cream' all bearing her name, too. Although the meringue number is now the last pavlova standing, at the time it was simply a rebranding of an existing dessert — a fixture in the patisserie repertoire long before Anna pirouetted onto the world stage. Food historian Janet Clarkson suggests 'neither Australia nor New Zealand invented the meringue, because the meringue was invented before they were'. And while many trace meringue's origins to 18th-century Switzerland, in Clarkson's blog, the Old Foodie, she dates the first recorded recipe to the 1604 collection of a Lady Elinor Fettiplace. The pavlova's precise origins are shrouded in mystery. Photograph by Hannah Hughes Annabelle Utrecht, a Queensland-based writer, has devoted the past decade to digging into the history of the pavlova, prompted by an online argument with a Kiwi acquaintance. In the course of their research, the pair discovered that by the 18th century, 'large meringue constructions incorporating cream and fruit elements could be found in aristocratic kitchens across German-speaking lands, so the thing we call a pavlova today is actually more than two centuries old'. Naturally, everyone wanted a slice of this noble pie, and recipes began to appear: the vacherin, a meringue bowl filled with whipped cream or ice cream, fruit and syrup-infused sponge cake, often credited to the 19th-century French chef Marie-Antoine Carême; the baked alaska; the German schaum ('foam') torte. Even English writer Mrs Beeton includes a meringue gateau, filled with macerated strawberries and whipped cream, in her 1861 recipe collection. It therefore seems likely that the pavlova probably arrived in both New Zealand and Australia with European immigrants long before Pavlova herself. Of course, few dishes spring fully formed from nowhere, but when did the idea of a meringue topped with cream and fruit begin to be known as a 'pavlova' — or a 'pav', if you speak Antipodean? The earliest mention of something resembling the modern pavlova labelled as such can be found in the 1929 New Zealand Dairy Exporter Annual, contributed by a reader, although this version seems to have been layered more like a French dacquoise. The next-earliest, from the Rangiora Mothers' Union Cookery Book of Tried and Tested Recipes, of 1933, is also Kiwi. Australia's first claim to the dish dates from 1935, when Herbert 'Bert' Sachse, the chef at Perth's Esplanade Hotel, was asked to come up with something new for the afternoon tea menu. Manager Harry Nairn apparently remarked that his creation was 'as light as Pavlova', and the legend was born. However, one of Sachse's descendants contacted Helen Leach, a culinary anthropologist at the University of Otago, to suggest their ancestor may have confused the dates, given Pavlova's death in 1931. And in a 1973 interview, Sachse himself explained his creation was an adaptation of a recipe from Australian Woman's Mirror magazine, submitted by a New Zealand resident. When questioned by Australian newspaper The Beverley Times, the 'silver-haired great grandfather' mused that he'd 'always regretted that the meringue cake was invariably too hard and crusty, so I set out to create something that would have a crunchy top and would cut like a marshmallow'. This, according to Utrecht's Kiwi research partner Dr Andrew Paul Wood, makes Western Australia-born Sachse unusual among his countrymen: 'I think the Australian meringue is crunchier … the New Zealand one is more marshmallowy inside,' Wood told The Sydney Morning Herald's Good Food guide. In her 2024 book Sift, British pastry chef and cookery book author Nicola Lamb writes that adding cornflour to the meringue base, as both Sachse and the New Zealand Dairy Exporter Annual reader suggest, 'helps promote [this] marshmallowy, thick texture'. For maximum squishiness, however, Lamb recommends shaping the mixture into a tall crown, 'as it's more difficult for the heat to penetrate the thick meringue walls'; if you prefer crunchy all the way through, go for a shallow bowl shape. Whatever texture you choose, once the meringue has cooled completely it's generally filled with whipped cream — usually unsweetened, given the sugar in the meringue, although it may be flavoured with vanilla — and then your choice of fruit. Australian cultural historian Dr Carmel Cedro agrees with Wood that not only do the two countries disagree over the correct texture for a pavlova, but on appropriate toppings. 'Here, passion fruit is a must,' she told Australia's ABC News, 'whereas [in New Zealand], they would never do that; it's always kiwi fruit.' In recent years, however, this classic summer dessert — or, if you're Down Under, festive favourite — has gone as rogue as its history. Australian food stylist and author Donna Hay has published countless recipes for everything from a banoffee pavlova to a baked pavlova and upside-down and frozen versions, and even a festive raspberry swirl pavlova wreath. South African restaurateur, broadcaster and writer Prue Leith, meanwhile, has a vegan-friendly take using aquafaba and coconut milk, while English food writer and TV cook Nigella Lawson gifted the world the chocolate pavlova paired with raspberries. And although pavlova isn't typically seen as a gourmet creation, Australian chef Peter Gilmore's signature dessert at Bennelong, the Sydney Opera House's fine-dining restaurant, takes it high end. Inspired by the architecture of the building itself, it features white meringue sails atop perfect spikes of whipped cream and Italian meringue filled with passion fruit curd. When it comes to pavlova, it seems, there's one for every taste. Although the caviar and cranberry number recently dreamed up by a firm of Polish fish farmers might prove the one pav neither Australia nor New Zealand wants to claim as their own. The pavlova's birthplace is hotly disputed, with Australia and New Zealand each claiming credit for the idea of crowning towers of billowing meringue with clouds of snowy cream and tumbling fruit. Photograph by Hannah Hughes Where to eat pavlova in Australia and New Zealand Cibo, Auckland Hidden away in a former chocolate factory in Parnell, Cibo has been described as one of Auckland's best-kept secrets, although it's still won numerous awards over the past three decades. There are usually at least two pavlovas on offer: a fruit version (classic strawberry and kiwi, for example) and one with salted caramel, peanut and chocolate dust. Floriditas, Wellington When The Sydney Morning Herald praises a New Zealand pavlova, the dessert has to be doing something right — although this much-loved bistro doesn't make things easy for itself. Instead of the classic recipe using white caster sugar, Floriditas opts for brown sugar, which is damper and more temperamental, but which gives the meringue base a deeper, richer flavour. Fruit varies with the seasons, from strawberries in summer to tamarillos in autumn. Ester, Sydney Forget hovering anxiously in front of the oven to ensure your snowy meringue doesn't take on even the merest hint of tan — at this Sydney neighbourhood joint (which comes highly recommended by Nigella Lawson) they char them in a wood-fired oven at a toasty 600C. That's a full 500C hotter than most recipes recommend, giving them the distinct look of a marshmallow toasted over a campfire. The accompaniments vary; they might be nectarine and yoghurt or passion fruit and elderflower, for example. Snow White Bakery, Melbourne Overwhelming local enthusiasm for this tiny bakery's classic pavlova — an unapologetically traditional tower of meringue, cream and icing-sugar-dusted berries — may be less of a news story than baker Tegan's Vegemite-infused take on the beloved Australian lamington (a cake), but it's probably more of a crowd-pleaser. For maximum squishiness, pastry chef and cookery book author Nicola Lamb recommends shaping the mixture into a tall crown; if you prefer crunchy all the way through, go for a shallow bowl shape. Photograph by Hannah Hughes Recipe: Helen Goh's summer berry pavlova To celebrate summer, I've chosen a mix of berries with a touch of passion fruit as a nod to the dessert's Antipodean roots — but feel free to use any in-season fruit. Serves: 8-10 Takes: 2 hrs 5 mins plus cooling Ingredients For the meringue250g egg whites (6-8 eggs, depending on size)½ tsp cream of tartar400g caster sugar2 tsp vanilla extract1 tsp white vinegar2 tsp cornflour pinch of salt
