Elitist East Coast Liberal Heaven and Drinking

I have now had a week to reflect on our trip last weekend to DC, where we took in way too much alcohol, way too many people and a now crushed sense of enthusiasm. Yes, we attended the "Rally to Restore Sanity".

But first, the Columbia Room. In a bit of kismet, last month, as we were making our plans for our trip to DC the latest edition of Imbibe magazine showed up with an article about the DC cocktail scene. In it we found The Columbia Room, a speakeasy style bar hidden in another bar called The Passenger. It is an eighteen seat reservation only prix fix bar. I'm not sure how it could possibly be more pretentious but, there it is. We had reservations for eight thirty and after getting to DC and doing some shopping we had completely run out of time to find food. This, my friends, I assure you is not a mistake I will ever make again. We arrive at The Passenger a few minutes early and get a drink there since they too have an excellent bar staff. I went for an Old Fashion and The Mrs. got for a variation on the Moscow Mule that I forget the name of. With drinks in hand we check the place out and look for the entrance to our destination. Finding the door that looks like a coat closet with the doormat in front of it we slurp down our drinks pay our tab and move on to our final destination. Behind the nondescript door is a coat room and hostess station. We are quickly greeted by a lovely young woman in prohibition-esque attire who shows us to our seats. The bar is located in what used to be the dressing room for the now defunct theater adjacent to The Passenger, itself a former hardware store. So, it is a small room with a bar along the long wall, a row of seating at the bar, and then a small walk way that separates that seating from a row of theater style seats. We were seated in the theater seating, which give you a birds eye view of the bar allowing us to do a play by play commentary of the action. After being seated we were brought a warm towel scented with rosemary and lemon along with a glass of cucumber infused water. Both meant to wash away the day and open the senses. The way it works is you get three drinks. The first two being the prix fix drinks along with small plates designed to accompany the drinks and then an off the cuff drink from Derek, owner and bartender, after a quick chat about your likes and dislikes, the drink menu relies heavily on the Dr. Cocktail book "Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails". Our first drink was the Fish House Punch a citrus-y punch that slid down way too easy. After finishing our first drink a group at the bar left and we were invited down to the bar level to get a ring side seat. Sadly, our interaction with Derek was still limited due to his attention being sucked up by a self important writer from The Post who couldn't shut up with a sock in her mouth. But our second drink was fantastic; a house creation, Sitting Alone on an Autumn Afternoon. The base for the drink was the Hibiki 12 year blended Scotch style whisky, which matched beautifully with the Apricot Eau de Vie and sage. This drink came with a cauliflower soup topped with croutons and a beet chip. The soup was heavenly but it may have just been that I was starving. For round three Derek came over and we discussed our drinking habits. I wanted something with Jenever so he cheated a little and made The Mrs. and I the same drink, a variation of the Genever Cocktail that included some citrus and gum arabic syrup and this was accompanied by a basket of truffle oil popcorn. Now, my friends, we could have been done here but since the bar was thinning out we were asked if we wanted another round. Being that I had not yet tried to stand, therefore finding out how unstable I was, "Yes I would, perhaps something Rye based" and on comes a Vieux Carre Cocktail, a New Orleans staple. And to finish the night out GQ magazines "best dry martini in the country". As you can imagine when trying to stand after all this I did so with some difficulty. Luckily, we did not drive and the Metro stop was only a block from the restaurant and the corresponding one was only a block from the hotel. Making it back to the hotel in one piece we basically blacked out for the night.

The next morning started with a little return to sender action and a nice hot shower. Then some more fit full sleep. Eventually trying to rise around nine thirty knowing if we were going to make it to the rally we had to make our move. I willed on some clothing and shuffled down to the commissary for some Pepto and ginger ale. With those in the tummy and a renewed sense of purpose we set out for the mall. It was quite brisk out which quickly set us in better spirits and smiles were restored. The walk was a dozen blocks or so and as we got closer the enormity of it truly started to sink in. I have since seen the estimates at two hundred and fifteen thousand but honestly when you are in the middle of that kind of crowd it feels like the whole world is there. We arrived on the mall minutes before it started and got close enough to see and hear one of the jumbotrons. I don't know what the people behind us did all day but we were amongst the last bit of people able to hear or see anything and there was still half the crowd behind us. So if you watched the rally or read anything about it you know what it was about. For us everyone was in high spirits and a cooperative mood we all watched out for each other and joked with strangers. It was a little difficult when an ambulance needed to get through; we all got a little closer that anyone was comfortable with. And we had one run in with the super dick mounted police. All in all, it was a memorable day that only served to fuel my delusion that the Democrats would not get pasted the following Tuesday. I was sorely disappointed.

Dinner that evening was supposed to be equally uplifting at Founding Farmers, owing to the fact that we were tired and still not feeling totally centered I will have to wait to do a proper review. The highlights included bacon lollies and my chicken and waffles. The lowlights were the uncooked "roasted veggies", barbecue popcorn, and lack of attentiveness of the staff, we had to ask for silverware after our meals had arrived. We will give them another shot next time in DC since it may have just been an off day and they came very highly recommended.

Sunday morning came with it a ritual visit to Teaism for breakfast before leaving town. Unfortunately, leaving town proved harder than planned as there was a marathon being run between us and the highway but eventually we made our way out and cruised home.

A Sia Saide

Back in effect

I realize I have been neglecting my poor blog and I assure you I have good reason. I have just been too damn busy. In the past couple of weeks we have been to see Dracula at Dance Theater, I have joined a second band while the first one gears up for recording, with said first band I played one of the worst shows in my semi-professional career, the Mrs. and I led groups on a Ghost and Legends tour through our neighborhood and last night we went to see David Sedaris. Eating out has included a trips to Molly McPherson's (Good Meatloaf), Burger Co. (counter service and an OK burger), Mac's (In slow decline), Kickstand (Pretty good burger but didn't feel right the next day, may not be related, will try again), and brunch at Bistro Le Bon (So very good).

But what I really wanted to talk about was our new obsession. A good cocktail. We have always enjoyed a good cocktail but The Mrs. recently bought the book by Dr. Cocktail (Ted Haigh) book "Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails". This will probably signal a turning point in the direction of the blog, at least for awhile. I have never really had an organizing principle to this thing other than self absorption and the electronic diary function. And so, my friends I will fill you in as we make our way through the cocktails and the hard to find liquors that are included in many of them.Until next time.

A Sia Saide

Trainspotting a nice cocktail and why to never start a rock band

I'm sure you have all missed me and I apologize for my tardiness in posting as of late. Friday was supposed to be a great time playing with my band on a clear cool night under the stars for the throngs of people who frequent our neighborhood on those evenings. What it was instead was a giant stressful disaster that almost ended in me killing someone. The truth is almost all musicians are quirky in one way or another and a large portion of them display this quirkiness by being completely unreliable. We should have guessed that it was going to be a disaster when the venue owner texted Joe on Monday to ask "who are y'all playing with again?", mind you this was his responsibility. We actually offered to book another band. That eventually got straightened out and all was thought to be well. So when we were loading the truck on Friday and the thought crossed our mind to load the PA we said "No, they got it". Never underestimate the ability to get screwed by second guessing yourself. We arrive on site about 6:45 for our 8:00 slot and set up. We meet the second band Prospect Rider and then we wait. "Hey, where the hell is the PA?"."It's comin'". Sure enough at 7:30 a truck rolls up with what appears to be a PA and it gets unloaded. Then the truck leaves. There is a strange collection of speakers and a powered mixer from the mid-seventies and that's it. No cables, no mics, no f'n way we are getting started on time. "They gotta get the rest of the stuff, we're right around the corner". Finally, after an hour or so and more cursing than I have done in a long time, the rest of the PA shows up. We decide, in the essence of time, to switch the set up and play our instrumentals while they set up around us. With some more difficulties and ineptitude this plan mostly works and we are off and running. We play our set and while we play there is a group from the local arts high school who dance and make the whole think worth while. Prospect Rider follow up with a great set and we retire for a good night sleep.

Saturday morning, feeling better than expected we get up and travel to the market and as we are finishing up we decide on a trip to the Frugal MacDoogles. The Mrs. has recently purchased a couple of old time cocktail books and we need some more ingredients. We have mainly been working out of Dr. Cocktails "Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails". Drinking, my friends, is a very expensive hobby. We pick up some Bourbon (Buffalo Trace), Cherry Heering, and sweet vermouth (Noily Prat). I also picked up a bottle of Rogue XS for the beer cave. With that we headed home. Saturday night we had made plans to check out the Citizens of the Universe production of Trainspotting. We started with a lovely meal at Soul and since I have written about them a number of times I will forgo another round. Needles to say it was very good, as always. The production is in a small theater space in Plaza Midwood called Story Slam. It is a fairly bare bones venue but gets the job done. The set was spare but used to very good effect. The acting and directing were top notch. If you know the story line to Trainspotting, you know it is not the lightest fare, but the production managed to tell the serious side of the story while still keeping the dark English humor intact. This was helped along by a girl in the audience who was having a hard time with the bodily functions portrayed on stage and was laughing as a coping method. It was a brilliant evening with friends.

The band is playing again this Friday maybe there will be more tales of woe next week, or maybe something tasty will occur. Until then....

A Sia Saide

Chima and the art of drinking Port in Charlotte

This Saturday The Mrs. and I were treated to dinner at Chima, a Brazilian Rodizio in uptown Charlotte, by Mimi and Papa J. This was in repayment of caring for their cats, one of them being a truly demonic beast previously discussed on this very blog. This was completely unnecessary but welcomed all the same. I will not belabor the point of the rodizio style, since that is not really the point of this post, but for those unfamiliar, it is an all you can eat meat bazaar. You start with the compulsory trip to the salad bar to take the edge off and then you flip the little token next to you to have the nice men, dressed as Gauchos, with the large skewers of freshly prepared meat come by and offer their wares. Chima had an excellent selection and the quality was top notch. My favorites were the garlic sirloin and the sausage. I was tasked with choosing the wine to accompany our meal and went with a Rodney Strong Pinot Noir from the Russian River Valley and it was excellent. I find the Russian River Pinots to be closer to the French style; more subtle than their cousins from Napa and Sonoma.

What I found truly amazing about Chima was their port selection. The usual restaurant selection of my drink of choice consists of a Reserve Ruby and a Fine Tawny. These are fine, but not inspiring. And, I can completely understand the lack of variety since there is very little demand. This brings us to the Chima port list. it was not a long list but a very well appointed list. It started with a Fonseca Bin 27 which is a high quality NV Ruby, followed by a 10 yr and 20yr Tawny. The crown jewel of this collection was a Taylor Fladgate 40yr Tawny. I did not have the stomach to ask Mimi and Papa J to take that hit. But tucked between the 20yr and 40yr was a wine you almost never see in a restaurant, especially by the glass, vintage port. It was a Grahams 1994 to be exact. I eyed it wearily until the server came back around for our dessert orders, of which they apparently have 16. The Mrs. got the Key Lime Pie, Papa J ordered a chocolate cake and Mimi ordered something called Walnut Creme, which was amazing. I on the other hand wanted my dessert in a glass. And, so, I asked the question I have asked so many times before, about many different drinks, only to get a blank stare in return, "when was this bottle opened?", but this time was different. Our server turned to the manager, who happened to be near by, and he said to me, "we will open it as soon as you order it". Now, this may have just been my good fortune in timing but, the fact that he knew what and why I was asking and there was no long drawn out inquiry gave me great satisfaction . Vintage port is a very temperamental beast. It usually starts to hit its stride at 15 years of age and loose its luster about two days after being opened. You can possibly get a week out of it if you have a really fancy air removal kit. And so it was, the bottle was brought to the table and inspected, The manager butchered the cork, which is common and also, in a restaurant, beneficial. If they butcher the cork they have to decant the bottle, which should be done anyway but is not an operation always performed. Decanting lets the wine breath and open up. Ideally it should be decanted an hour or two before consumption and if I am ordering a bottle I will do so at the beginning of the meal and have it decanted then, for consumption at dessert. I let the glass sit until dessert arrived. And then took my first sip. It was amazing, huge blackberry and tobacco flavors burst out of the glass with little hints of alcohol and a tart finish. 1994 was an excellent year and this was no exception. Mimi asked for a sip and then wanted her own glass, so one was brought and about half way through it was mistakenly knocked over with an errant hand gesture. Without even skipping a beat our server was there and a fresh glass was brought to the table, no questions asked. It was so refreshing to see a restaurant do the little things that make a night like that worth it. I believe Chima is a chain and normally that means nothing good but the staff really took pains to make you feel welcome and cared for. If you don't happen to be a meat person or just don't want to drop a wad of cash on the table, why not stop by for dessert and a drink after a show at the Knight Theater. A glass of port is always the perfect way to end an evening.

A sia saide

Chima - is located at 139 S. Tryon St. - Uptown

To compare and contrast two beer bars in two very different beer cultures

While we were in Florida last week we happened to notice, in the newspaper, that a place called World of Beer had just opened up in a location that was, in a round about way, on our way back from The Keys. Thankfully, my lovely In-Laws actively support our love of drinking and we decided we would stop on the way back. And now for a little background on the Florida beer culture. There is none, like all things in Florida; mass marketing rules. I'm sure I have missed some great beer bar hidden away in a small downtown somewhere but even compared to Charlotte my home is a vast wasteland of mega-brew. Luckily, on our way we stopped at the Lincoln St. Mall and got lunch at The Hofbrau Haus, a restaurant owned and operated by the Hofbrau Brewery in Munich, for some sausage and decent dark german beer. I did appreciate that they even had Bundesliga on the tele, and it was even Munich playing. But I digress. On we went to World of Beer a beer bar in a giant Florida strip mall. We had the dogs with us so we sat outside. The weather was fairly agreeable, the beer list was less so. World of Beer had at least 40 taps, all of them filled with the giants of the micro brew world and only top sellers. No specialty kegs to be seen. The bottle list was slightly more interesting if only because it was huge. With over 300 bottles it took awhile to get through and still there was nothing that really interested me. I went back through and ordered a Cotleighs bitter. I had heard of Cotleighs and being a big fan of English Bitters was interested to try it. The Mrs. got a Victory Storm King and The In-Laws each got a Youngs Double Chocolate. I ventured in to find the rest room and found that it was basically a TGI Fridays for beer. When I returned, my beer was waiting for me. It was a fine example of a bitter, malty and earthy, but lacking anything special. For food they are set up much like our own Courtyard Hooligans, they have no food of their own, just menus from the surrounding restaurants. We had just eaten so this was not a problem but was a little put off. I forgive Courtyard Hooligans for this as they are shoehorned into a space the size of a refrigerator. World of beer is in a half empty strip mall.

In comparison, when we returned home, Growlers was supposed to be open and we had planned on eating there but no dice. We would have to wait until Wed. And so there I was 15 minutes after opening to christen my new neighborhood bar, owned by the same folks who brought you the Crepe Cellar. I should also take the time to let everyone know I did a fair amount of millwork for the bar. I do not believe that this will influence my opinion, as my bill has already been paid. The draw for beer lovers here is the cask ale. A live beer that has had the bugs thrown in the special keg known as a firkin with the beer to ferment. I believe it is something a kin to bottle conditioning on a larger scale. I had contacted a couple of the usual suspects to meet me but they were not available so I met up with the unusual suspects. I was hanging having my beer and facebooking about it when I notice strolling over is Mr. Hops (also known as Mr. Inappropriate) So we get to chatting and I give him the low down on the place. It is a great space. Brick walls, concrete floors, open ceiling; They even got all the seating and tables second hand to make the place seem lived in. It worked. For my part, the back bar is and looks new but fits in and the bar top is antique yellow pine that the owners got from Myrtle Beach and had me plane and joint into a countertop, it looks fantastic and really lends a lot of character. So as we are talking in walks Mr. State (also known as Mr. I'm not a B) which is a really funny story I'm sure he would love to tell you. Growlers has 14 taps plus 2 beer engines. Upon opening the taps were fairly safe with a little bit of everything. The plan is to keep styles on the taps with a rotation of brands within those styles. I was there for the cask, which was a special version of the Highland Gaelic Ale that had been dry hopped with Simcoe Hops. It was a nice variation on what is already a solid beer. I put down my fair share of Gaelics and then to finish the night I had a Hop Rod Rye from Bear Republic, which is a good way to finish since it completely dominates your tastebuds and renders them useless for most anything else. As I was leaving I noticed the place had filled up nicely and looked forward to my next visit.

In conclusion, you don't need hundreds of beers to make people happy. You need a well thought out selection that rotates regularly, a knowledgeable staff and ambiance. The best places to drink feel like an extension of your own home. A couple big ass TV's doesn't hurt, but it's not necessary.

You can indeed go home again

The Mrs. and I made our annual pilgrimage to South Florida. We did a swap with The Mrs. parents of our futon, which we got from them, for a treadmill and a big ass TV. My father-in-law just got a bigger ass TV. So wins all around. The real reason I was going down however was to go to the liquor store. The liquor laws in North Carolina being what they are it is much better to shop for liquid gold in Florida. It also happened that a very dear old friend has had his second child and the christening was Saturday. We were very graciously let off the hook for the church part of the celebration but got to go by the house later and have a few sangrias and catch up with not just him but the rest of his family that we had not seen in quite some time. His family was a surrogate family for me at times during high school and it was great to see everyone. During our conversation we eventually started talking about food, as we always do, and we got a great tip on a place for Cuban food that was, in a round about way, on the way back. Meaning it was south but not really on the way, but who cares it's Cuban food. So when the time was right, and just before the conversation would begin to be interrupted by my stomach rumbling, we said our good byes and set off for dinner. When we arrived at The Havana Restaurant the parking lot was packed and there was a very nice guy helping everyone find a spot. So we got parked and headed in. The first decision was if we wanted to eat in or eat at the take out window. We decided to check the wait, twenty minutes, and then thought we would hang out and eat in. I should mention that the counter is open twenty-four hours and we will be returning on our way home for breakfast. So now you know it was good but let me tell you why. We did get seated with the caveat from the hostess, "Let me know if the table is ok", it was right next to the server station, which was fine by me I was hungry. Our server was an older gentleman who seamed to be a little overwhelmed buy the late rush that we were now a part of and was, maybe, not on his game. I will forgive him everything except not coming by to offer me another beer; that's just criminal. Anyway, on to the food. To start we ordered a plate of croquettes that were ham and swiss. They also came with assorted meat and cheese, the marinated pork was really good. The croquetes themselves were tasty but were not as fresh as I would have expected and, so, a little underwhelming. All was redeemed with the entrées. I ordered the "Masitas de Puerco Fritas" pig lovers hold on to your hats. This was huge chunks of marinaded slow roasted pork that are then deep fried without batter; crispy and falling apart tender. They come topped with sautéed pickled onions and mojo sauce. On the side was yellow rice and black beans and then there was the fried plantains. It was heavenly. The Mrs. got her favorite, the Media Noche, which is the same as the typical Cuban sandwich but on a sweeter bread. She was very happy, and even happier when she started stealing my plantains. Sadly, we were both too full to even contemplate dessert so we rolled ourselves to the car and headed back to the in-laws for a good night sleep. We had a long day ahead of us heading to the Keys.

Aaaahhhhhh Meat!

Sunday was supposed to be a quite day for the Mrs. and I to spend some time together and relax before taking the afternoon to go, finally, meet Baby Chelsea. So we lazed on the couch and read the paper. Then we went next door to borrow their backyard so the mutt could run around. When we returned I decided to pull out some veal from the freezer. When I reached into the freezer I nearly fainted. Nearly everything was defrosted. And so began the great meat rescue mission. What do you do with 10-15 pounds of meat when you have a busy schedule every night and you're leaving for Florida on Friday? First, you stare at it and panic, then you make a plan. A quick inventory showed we had 2 packages of pork chops, 1 lb. of veal cutlet, 1 lb of ground veal, 1 lb of ground beef, 2 fillet minion, 1 sirloin, a brisket and assorted soup bones which were still frozen. The Fillet went next door to Mimi and Papa J in return for giving us a couple of emergency fillets a month or two ago. Next it was onto the ground meat. Knowing we were going to be making meatballs with the veal anyway we figured there was no time like the present and did 50/50 meatballs and tossed them in the oven to bake and then we would freeze them for a later date. Luckily, four of the meatballs did not fit on the tray so I fried them up and made a quick pan sauce, microwaved some farfalle from the night before and lunch was ready. For the sirloin, I threw together a marinade of Malta and Worcestershire, let it sit for a couple of hours and then tossed it under the broiler. It will get reheated for tacos with a pineapple tomatillo salsa verde later in the week. On a side note, that is not pineapple and tomatillo. We found Pineapple tomatillos at the market. They are very small and taste exactly as it sounds. The brisket was easy, I am Irish after all, so corned beef it was. We have a great recipe from BA that takes 8 days. Like magic, it will be ready when we return from Florida. Then it will get smoked on the grill. That part isn't exactly traditional, but it is tasty. And last but not least we had four pork chops. I rang Mr. Chelsea to change our plans and make it a dinner date. We loaded up the pork chops and some purple potatoes we had in the fridge and headed over to meet Baby Chelsea. We also decided to bring the pup with us to meet one of the Chelsea pups and get some play time. It took them a little while, but by the end they were playing nicely; by nicely I mean Peabody was destroying a stuffed animal and Tink was ignoring him. After a couple weeks of having to stay away due to The Mrs. having a cold of some sort we finally got to meet Baby Chelsea. Owing to the fact that she is only a couple of weeks old, she was very quiet and compliant, which was just fine by me. We oohed and cooed and all the other requites baby ogling. She is very cute and is probably the closest thing to a niece I'm gonna get, So I do feel a bond, if not truly familial than something close to it. Pop was beaming with delight as was Momma. It is so great to see your friends that happy. Although, Mr. Chelsea is a bit of a worrier. I have never really been around new parents before, I am guessing the obsession with a wet diaper is something that probably subsides with time as you settle into the job, but for now he is very diligent. All in all a pretty good day. The Mrs. and I got to spend some quality time together, not exactly as we had intended, but doing something we love and with the people we love. And I didn't have to use my AK. What else is there?.... Oh yeah, right, there's all that meat.

Updates and Local Yum

Post scrip to the Panamanian Schooner - replace the bitters with 1/2 oz. of Cynar. Way better.

I also found that Malta makes a great marinade for Rib-eyes when split with Worcestershire sauce 50/50.

This week saw some interesting additions to the local food choices. My favorite being Underwood Farms now offering Veal in the forms of ground and cutlet. And before you squeamish kill joys start on me about veal, this is not caged and mistreated, and anyhow baby cows are delicious. Anyway, I prepared a full farm to fork dinner this week around the veal. Sides were some roasted potatoes and blanched rattlesnake beans. But the Veal was lovingly coated with a cornmeal batter lightly fried and topped with a ragu of tomatoes, onion and eggplant. It was tender and light and so good.

Thursday was a night on the town with The Whisk(e)ys. Drinking, what else, whiskey, well bourbon anyway. We met them at Andrew Blairs for a Makers Mark event. Makers is rolling out a new bourbon called "46". It is the original Makers Mark that is then re barreled with toasted french oak staves suspended in the barrel. It is a much spicier bourbon with what I found to have a cherry note. It was ok. I'm sure Mr. Whisk(e)y will do a full round up of th event so I will not belabor the point. I will however give major props for the food. It was so good. There was a creamy Mac and cheese and bean dip as well as pulled pork sandwiches. The best thing was the fatty brisket cooked in the bourbon.

And last but not least, we went out to the Yorkmont market this morning and picked up some Pineapple Tomatillos from Rosemary Pete. They are small like grapes and very tasty. Not sure what we are going to do with them yet but I'm sure it will be good. As I write I am in the process of making pickled okra. I'll give an update on that when they're ready.

Drink Experimentation

Over the weekend the Mrs. and I decided to check out the Super G mart a gigantic multi-ethnic grocery store out on 74 at Sardis Rd. It's crazy. We were completely overwhelmed by it. There were so many veggies, and fish parts I've never seen before, and enough rice to save a third world country from starvation. I did find one of my favorite things. For those who do not know what Malta is, it is a non-alcoholic malted beverage that taste like molasses soda. I started working on a drink that incorporates it. I'm sure it already exists but Googling "Malta cocktail" gets you the drink menu for every bar in Malta. So, I am calling it the "Panamanian Schooner", bonus points for those who get the reference. Anyway, It's

1 1/2 oz. of Rum - I used Abuelo from Panama (hence the name, thanks Mr.and Mrs. Whisk(e)y)

Juice from 1/4 of a Lime

2 drops Grapefruit Bitters

7 oz Malta

All over Ice and stir

It is very refreshing but may need a slightly more bitter component.

Tomorrow we will discuss our dinner tonight.

Worst week to OK weekend

On top of the crazy work schedule and near impossible deadlines for the week add a helping of sick animals, stupid animals, death, destruction and mayhem. This just about gets you to my week. It all started last Friday with a cabinet install that should have been a breeze but when plumbers screw up it halts everything; add on that the contractor and super being out of town and neither of them having voicemail and you get one livid cabinetmaker. So, Monday we chat and they tell me "we told you we would be out of town", and yes they did, but knowing that fact does nothing to alleviate the frustration of the situation. Meanwhile, my lovely wife is at home sick with our also quite sick ferret and a dog that has just gotten fixed, microchipped and had his dew claws removed, and is wearing the cone. To the dogs credit he has been very good about the whole thing. Tuesday comes and I have to book it up to this job after the plumber has finished fixing it and of course its raining, why wouldn't it be. Also during the install, I get the good yet slightly stressful news that Mrs. Chelsea is in labor and the baby in on it's way. But , the install gets done, the baby is healthy and everyone is happy. Did I mention my neighbors demonic cat who needs to get six pills every morning. And when I say demonic I mean I thought there was gonna be a pea soup incident. This hiccup in my schedule had me getting up at five thirty adding to my displeasure of each day. The cat got better once we learned to give him the pills in Velveeta. Tuesday also sees my beautiful little girl getting sicker, a vet appointment is made. Wednesday comes and work goes OK but when we get to the vet we find out our loving ferret of just over nine years has a heart that is failing. We know it is her time and say our goodbyes. If a man can find a soul mate in a two pound blind deaf and dumb ball of spite, she was mine. We go home and have a good cry. Thursday is total chaos at the shop, trying to make sure I am ready for an install on Friday. I do not like to miss deadlines. And that morning is the appointment for the dog to get his first set of stitches out. Everything happens just as it should until I am on my way home and while cleaning my glasses they come back up in two pieces. I mutter many unholy things and take a deep breath. This is unable to convey just how I feel so I just let out an obscenity laced tirade at the top of my lungs that would make Sam Kinison blush and try not to just drive my truck into a wall. After arriving home I self medicate a bit and try to relax. But all I can think about is the twenty two foot antique pine countertop that has to go in on Friday and the fact that I have to bike somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty miles that night. The Mrs. comes home having had an equally detestable day and we decide to go out for dinner. So we head over to Soul where we continue to self medicate with Campari and soda along with a steady stream of tasty nibbles topped off with a maraschino cherry cupcake with champagne icing. So that wasn't so bad. Friday came entirely two quickly even though I got to sleep in a little. The neighbors had returned and I was relieved from cat duty. The install went well and we even got to have some lunch at the Crepe Cellar. Then it was time for the whirlwind of activity to get ready for the twenty-four hours of booty. I will close here and continue the weekend in a few days. If anyone actually finished reading this I apologize. I will owe you ten minutes. I promise the weekend will be filled with food and adventure as well as less complaining. This ones for Bookie. Thanks.

Restaurant week, and stuff

I want to start off with a quick note about Sam Smiths Yorkshire Stingo. Yum, really yum. I had a bottle I've had for about a year now, last night. It was fantastic. It is an oak aged ale, but with the year in the cave it had mellowed out to a caramel and malt masterpiece. Tight carbonation from the bottle conditioning and perfectly balanced.

Second, The Mrs. made a Smoked ham and Gruyere bread today. We sliced some farm fresh tomatoes over it for a snack this afternoon. It was lovely.

And finally, for dinner tonight we went with a group to Sonoma for restaurant week. I really knew nothing going in and after checking out the menu online was interested but not overcome with emotion. That's pretty much how I would describe the whole affair. After being seated it was obvious that our server was new to the restaurant world. Thats fine, everyone has to start somewhere. And over all he did fine. It was the little things that were off. He'll get there and be ok. For the appetizer, I had the white bean and chorizo stuffed squid. My only comment is that the flavor of white beans should never overpower chorizo. Never, never ever, never. The squid was cooked well I guess, a little al dente, but since seafood isn't exactly my thing I am not the best judge. But as a non fish eater, I was not offended by it. The Mrs. had the quinoa salad. It was fresh and quite refreshing. For an entree I had the grilled ribeye cooked, well , sort of cooked. This was excellent. I like my meat warmed and that's about all, but still tender. The ribeye was juicy and falling apart and still quite rare. It was served over herbed mashed potatoes. The lamb that The Mrs. ordered was also cooked perfectly but lacked that special lambiness. Dessert was a slice of pecan pie for me and a pear tart for The Mrs. Neither was special but both were serviceable. All in all the the meal was good but fairly pedestrian. Then again for thirty bucks for three courses it's hard to complain when the food is prepared well. I will probably never end up back at Sonoma, but who knows. I wouldn't go out of my way, but I wouldn't protest either.

Let's get campy

This last weekend The Mrs. and I had a date with the mountains. It was 10 - 15 degrees cooler and we really needed to do a training ride for the twenty four hours of booty. So we woke up Saturday morning and headed north to the New River State Park. The park has about fifty miles of converted rail line for biking, walking, and horseback riding. Of coarse when we arrived it was pouring rain and in our rush of the morning we had forgotten our rain jackets. So, we are now the proud owners of a pair of New River rain jackets. Which were not overly priced and quite nice. But still it was a little annoying, and of coarse by the time we got to our camp site and ready to ride there wasn't a cloud in the sky. No worries. The thing that makes the New River unique is that it is the only river that flows south to north and is thought to be the second oldest river in the world behind the Nile. Since the trail is based on an abandoned train route the inclines are very gentle. We set out about noon and planned to get about thirty miles in. It was beautiful. The temperature was about seventy eight and possibly cooler under the canopy. So it was pedal, pedal, pedal, watch out for that deer, pedal, pedal, lunch, pedal, ohh pretty, pedal, another deer, pedal. Thirty two miles later we were exhausted and ready for some relaxing. Unfortunately, it was now time to set up camp. Luckily, it wasn't too difficult. The trouble came when we were hungry. I am notorious for underestimating how long it takes for charcoal to get ready to cook over. And, although I was a Boyscout my outdoor fire making skills are a little lacking. Mostly because I refuse to use lighter fluid. I will be switching to wood next time. Not to mention the humidity makes newspaper almost fireproof. But, finally we got some fire and then it was time for brats and some potatoes we had pre roasted the night before along with ears of corn from the farm, it was quite a meal. To finish we did some smores. To drink we brought the greatest gift to campers, wine in a box. The stuff from Target is not bad, we tried the Cab-Shiraz. Finally it was time to sleep. We curled up on the air mattress and nodded off. It rained a little over night but nothing to worry about. The next morning I again tried to conquer fire with little success. Luckily, I could dig down into the coals to find sufficient heat for water to make coffee. While that heated I went for a little dip in the river. Sadly, we were not able to get a site right on the water but we were still very close. The river was exhilarating and was the perfect way to start a day. We got our coffee and then started to head out for another ride. We had planned to do another fifteen or so miles. As soon as I got on my bike, I realized that was not going to happen. I hurt in places I didn't know could hurt. We quickly re calibrated our expectations for the day. Just down the trail is the Shot Tower. The Shot Tower was as you might expect a tower used for making lead shot for muskets. We headed over there and checked it out. All together we rode five of our planned fifteen miles but still felt a sense of accomplishment. We loaded the truck and headed home. On the way home we had a discussion about my travel habits, I do not stop unless it is to pee, to remedy this we decided to check out one of the wineries you pass signs for on the highway. We picked Rag Apple Lassie in Boonville. It was about ten miles off the highway, which gave The Mrs. time to look them up and decide if it was worth it. By the time we got there we had decided it was and went in for a tasting. They happened to be having a fundraiser for Habitat for Humanity and we got suckered into the tasting they were selling. So we tried five of their wines, none of which knocked my socks off but I did like one of their semi sweet red blends. The true highlight was the gentleman pouring, Walt. He was quite a character. With a never ending supply of wit and re-labeled cans. Purporting to be everything from skunk pate to possum wieners. It definitely made the whole excursion worth it. We picked up a couple of bottles for us and for gifts. Finally reaching home ready to collapse and dreading the next morning and work, we slept.

What happens in the mountains, does not stay in the mountains

Having lost my little man a month back, we have been weighing out pet options. We have two little lady ferrets, one young terror, and the other a deaf, dumb and blind girl living on borrowed time. We have been tossing around the idea about a small dog. Maybe a chihuahua mix. With that, The Mrs. has been scouring the Petfinder.com site for a rescue and finally just signed up for their daily email. The shortest distance you can search is 100 miles. She has been doing advanced calculus to determine the proper ratio of distance to cuteness to determine if the drive is worth it for a dog. Wednesday she got a picture of a litter of puppies that were supposedly chihuahua mix, in Wilkesboro. They looked like tiny golden labs. Then came an email from another foster mom, also in Wilkesboro. These were Pekingese mixes. So we then looked at the puppies in the pound in Wilkes county. There were a couple of cuties. A trip was planned. We woke up early Saturday so we could get up to Wilkesboro in time to see the Pekingese pups before their foster mom was off to an adoption fair that she was not brining the puppies to, as they are only 5 weeks. Then make a beeline for that same fair because the Chihuahua pups were there but leaving at noon and then make it to the pound before they closed at noon as well. First stop, the Pekingese pups were so cute and so little. We just had piles of them in our laps. The Mrs. had them crawling all over her. I managed to put every puppy that ended up in my lap to sleep straight away. Mom was on site and definitely a Pekingese mutt of some form. Not the prettiest dog but cute enough. The puppies had the hallmarks of an Australian Shepperd. Probably bigger than we wanted but adorable. Next we were on our way to the pet fair. Chihuahua my foot, they were gonna be big. Those puppies looked like labs, but cute nonetheless. As we spoke to them it became clear they had not seen mom or dad. And last stop was the pound. Oh and I forgot to mention we also had planned to stop in Huntersville on the way back to check out a one year old Chihuahua-Dachshund mix. Meanwhile, back at the pound, a stop we did not have the highest hopes for, we found a cute little Chihuahua mix named Tanner. We are guessing he got this name because, wait for it, he is indeed tan. So we played with him a little bit and decided he was what we were looking for. His profile was Chihuahua - Feist mix. While looking into the Feist we learned it is basically a purebred mutt from Southern Appalachia used for hunting squirrel. We are, however, pretty sure he is Chihuahua - Corgi. On the way home he sat in The Mrs.'s lap and we decided to name him Peabody. Full name, Lord Peabody - Earl of NoDa. We had not planned on actually coming home with a dog and were then struck with our need to go to the pet store and get our new guy kitted out. And when they see you walk in with a dog on a training leash, they know. You walk in with sucker written on your forehead plain as day. So we got all the requisite crap you need. Leashes, beds, food and the like. Then we were off to the house. First day was good. No pee or deuce in the house. As one would imagine our first field trip in the neighborhood was to the bar. So, down to the Revolution we headed, confident in the knowledge that we were now truly integrated into the neighborhood, we have a dog. He is very well behaved. Also, a little on the needy side. But, with all he's been through it is to be expected. And, for the Fourth the Chelseas will be coming by as well as the Whisk(e)ys who will be bringing their puppy for a play date. I hope she's fixed. Peabody is still all man, For now. The moral of the story is get yourself a pound puppy or rescue. On an only tangentially related note, while at the Revolution I got myself the new summer beer from Rogue. It is a honey ale. It's quite good with the honey adding more of an earthiness, rather than sweetness. Definitely a good summer session beer at just over 5% ABV.

The mates keep jumping in the pool

Mr. Chelsea has decided to join us in the cyber pool. His first post is about Christmas beer, I know it sounds weird, so you should go check it out, Here.

Cheers,

Nerding out in the Mountains

Last Sunday, while lazing around on the couch, the Mrs. and I were contemplating what to do with ourselves the following weekend. We talked about DC and that we'd like to go up to the mountains. As I flipped through the travel section a small article caught my eye. It was an announcement for a quilt block scavenger hunt rally up in Mitchell and Yancy counties. It was perfect. The premise is that there are 170 painted quilt blocks hanging on buildings as part of the NC quilt trail. You meet at a designated place and get a list of 12 of those blocks as well as a couple of other tasks to do, a quilt trail map of all 170 and some information about the area. You then have to find and document all of the blocks on your list in the shortest mileage; they check your odometer in when you arrive. You have from 10am to 5pm to finish or get as far as you can.

Knowing the event started at 9 am we drove up Friday after work. We took a little bit of a detour so I could finally check out the Pisgah Brewing tap room. It is a little hard to find, and as soon as we pulled up I had a flashback of pulling up to Duck-Rabbit and my heart sank. It is in a small industrial park that is not the most welcoming. Then I started to see a little life around back and we decided to check it out. As soon as you open the less than friendly front door you are greeted with the sounds of a lively crowd and a pumping sound system. It happened to be the one year anniversary of Micheal Jacksons death, so his greatest hits were washing over the crowd covering us in a nostalgic glow. We surveyed the choices and The Mrs. said "just pick something for me". I nearly fell over. She is trying very hard to enjoy beer but a glass to herself was a big step. I myself went for the Vortex II and got her a Hellbender barleywine. She was not in love with the Hellbender so I let her try the Vortex and did not get it back. The Vortex II is a Russian Imperial Stout that is sweet and surprisingly light on the tongue. The Hellbender is quite a bit sweeter than other barleywines I have had making it much easier to drink without the long aging that most of my bottles get. It too was lighter than expected making it a nice summer evening beer. I went back for one more before we left, I ordered the Doppelbock, not considering what I had just put my taste bud through and the whole thing was lost on me. I should have known better. Then it was on to our hotel, The Skyline Village Inn. It was nice enough, we got in a little late and I found the owner, Mike, as I was wondering around. He quickly checked me in and we had a chat. The lobby doubles as a beer and wine store. They also have a small restaurant that, thankfully, was still open. We dropped off our bags and took in the stunning view from our room. Then quickly made our way down to dinner. We sat on the patio and I ordered a chicken parmesan sandwich. I was a little surprised when it came out, it was not fried, It was chunks of seasoned and broiled chicken breast. It was very tasty. The onion rings more than made up for the chicken not being fried. To drink I had an Osker Blues pilsner, I am neither a huge Pils or Oskar fan, but it fit the meal just right. When we went to bed we found the bed itself to be less than comforting and neither of us had a particularly good sleep. So, we awoke on Saturday, feeling less then our best, but determined to enjoy ourselves. We got moving quickly after finding no sight of breakfast, or any signs of life at all. After loading up we headed toward the bustling metropolis of Spruce Pine, NC, in search of coffee. It too was devoid of humanity. I thought for sure by 8 am a tourist town would be getting it's day started, not so much. So we finally found the one local cafe that was open got coffee and a bagel and headed for our rendezvous point, a high school in Burnsville, NC. With only one turn around we found our way, and hoped that was not an omen of how our day would be. Obviously, we were the youngest people there. By a long shot. Actually, at the end of the day we met one other young couple. There were 25 cars entered and we were split into two groups that had different itineraries. Each group competed within itself. We had so much fun driving the twisting and turning back roads. Admittedly, it was more fun for me than The Mrs. Since we were judged on mileage and not time, we had the opportunity to take in the little towns and shops and food. Once we got our package we sat in the car planning our attack. And 45 mins. or so later we were on our way. First stop a block in the middle of nowhere, this would be the story of our day, then it was off to downtown Burnsville for a couple of blocks and lunch at the Garden Deli, where The Mrs. got a chicken salad sandwich and I had a delicious pit smoked ham and swiss sandwich on rye. But, the draw here is that the entire patio is under a giant tree canopy, it was lovely. While in town we also checked out the sundial quilt block. It's so weird it gets its own pamphlet. Then we set off into the wilds of western North Carolina. Up, Down, Left, Right, "Ohh God, don't hit that deer" Up, Down, Left, Right, "Aaahhhh, another deer". Up, Down, "OOOhhhh". Until we got back around to Spruce Pine. We really wanted a piece of buttermilk pie from a restaurant that we had seen that morning, but was closed. It was totally worth it. Homemade, gooey and delicious. We chatted with the locals and got a hint on some good coconut pie that we should check out next time we are in town. Back on the road with the up and down and so on. We hit an orchard that was having a hootenanny and picked up drinks. We also ran into a couple of fellow competitors and then made our way to the end point. We thought we had a shortcut, but as it happened, the roads did not actually intersect. It didn't cost us much but we thought we were so damn smart. The end point was a vacation community that was in the process of being built and when we got the information package when we arrived I was a little leery. Luckily, we did not get the sales spiel while we were there. As we were leaving they offered to show anyone around who would like. "No, Thanks". The food was really great BBQ from a local place called 'Bama Que. We got Pulled pork, ribs and half chicken as well as all the requisite sides. And, yes I had a little of everything. As the party winded down it was time to award prizes. We got second place in our group by one stinkin' mile. The not so short cut got it's revenge. But we did get a lovely piece of local pottery. With that, we decided to make our way home. On the way out of town we saw 'Bama Que, so we know where it is for next time my in-laws are in town. and then almost directly across the street was The Shepperd's Table, the place with the coconut pie. The Mrs. convinced me to turn around to get some pie. Sadly, they were out of the "magical" pie. They did, however have a homemade blackberry cobbler with fresh local blackberries. Warmed up, with some vanilla ice cream. Yeah, it was really good, and we'll be going back to check out the coconut pie, despite the jesus-y nature of the restaurant. Then it was back home to get a good night sleep. Sunday is "Pops in the Park" and our audition for the neighborhood supper club. Fingers crossed.

Babies are so cute, when they are someone else's

Kind of a crazy weekend around here. Friday we played a show at my neighborhood watering hole, Revolution Pizza. It was a good crowd, the weather was almost perfect and we played a pretty solid set. It was also the last show for friends of ours, Scentless Apprentices, a Nirvana cover band. We went first to make way for them to play everything they knew. It was so much fun to reminisce about high school. Saturday we ran around town running errands. While we were out we each got new bikes. It was supposed to be The Mrs. getting a new bike but when I saw the size of the bike they put her on I realized the bike I had was wholey inappropriately sized. And, to be honest, I was a little jealous. So, I am now the proud owner of a gigantic XL frame metro bike by Globe, an imprint of specialized. I am kind of amazed by how awesome a properly fitted bike is. Who knew?

On Sunday we had plans for Mr. and Mrs. Chelsea's baby shower. As most people know, I am not the child type. But, I put on a good face and took heart in knowing I would have back up there and the Brazil-CIV match would be on. It was a nice low key affair organized by Mr. Chelsea's sister and a friend of ours. When we arrived there was easily enough food to sustain a small village for a month or two. And plenty of beer and punch to wash it down with. We played some games, like, a relay race of changing diapers, boys against girls. Then we broke into groups. The men went upstairs to watch the match, drink, and mercilessly savage each other with verbal barbs. While the women watched Mrs. Chelsea open gifts and coo over it all. As I said I will not be having children, but seeing your friends as proud parents to be can't not make you happy. I'm sure it will change the dynamics within our group and the relationship between each of us. All we can do is be friends the best way we know how. Next weekend I hope will not have me contemplating such heavy subjects. The Mrs. and I are headed to the mountains for a scavenger hunt of sorts. Until then....

New kid on the blog

As anyone who has read this blog at least once knows, I have a friend identified as Mr. Whisk(e)y, and he has started his own blog about, what else, Whisk(e)y. I myself am not a huge fan but enjoy a good glass of Irish or the occasional top shelf Bourbon. I will be very interested to learn more and, hopefully, be a guest now and again. I like free drinks. Go Check it out. Here

Cheers

More Market Action, and Lang Van

The farmers market craze is really heating up in my fare city. Saturday was the grand opening of the Atherton Market in Southend. As the name would imply it is in the Atherton Mills, in the former trolley barn. The market was organized by moving the Tailgate Market from next to Common Market. They are currently open Saturdays and Tuesday evenings with plans to expand hours when demand dictates. We decided to ride our bikes over and see what the hubbub was about. It was buzzing with activity when we arrived. The space is fairly tight if it stays as busy as it was, but it was opening day, so we will see. We did a loop around and then went back around to do our shopping. I find this to be the best method at markets. This way you can prioritize and compare quality before you get caught up in the euphoria of fresh veggies. We did our part to spread the wealth picking up some peppers and peaches, pickles, potatoes, and tomatoes. I got a fresh root beer from Uncle Scott's a local producer in Mooresville. Then we got a round of Gorgonzola bread from Dukes and some sweet potato pasta from the Pasta Wench. As we were leaving a bluegrass band was just starting up. I tore into the bread as soon as we got home and discovered that it, with a thin layer of the Strawberry-Basil Jam The Mrs. made a couple of weeks ago, was my new favorite thing. And, on Sunday I made up a quick pan pasta sauce with the tomatoes, fresh garlic, herbs and some squash we had from last weeks CSA bag. Then threw in the ravioli and let it simmer. Thats good eatin'. Saturday afternoon was spent with friends watching the USA vs England world cup match. That evening was a friends birthday at the Charlotte institution known as Lang Van, a Vietnamese restaurant. I had never been but our friends are regulars, which was very handy, as the waitress would direct your order by making a face when something wasn't good that evening, or as we came to believe they did not have that evening. Either way, not being a great connoisseur of Vietnamese food I have no reference point. I got a beef and noodle dish that was quite good. I liked that it was very light with just a hint of a vinegar sauce. While the beef was a pounded cutlet cooked just right. The rest of the evening involved the "Sport" of UFC. I am not a fan, but what the hell. We were being manly and drinking beer. More often than not it's the company rather than the activity we enjoy.

Until next time,

Oh, the Bard

Last night was one that I look forward to every year. It was our night at Collaborative Arts Shakespeare on the green. It is a standing date we have had with the Whiskey's for three or four years now. This year the production is "Comedy of Errors" a tale of mistaken identities and identical twins. The idea is you get a picnic basket, blanket and friends; then drink heavily in public and enjoy the warm summer air and a few laughs. I believe we succeeded on all levels. We will start with the basket which was full to the brim with cheese and crackers, homemade pickled asparagus, a salad of spicy greens and a tomato-basil pie procured that morning from the newly opened Pickles Farmers market in NoDa. To drink we had a bottle of cava and one of pink prosecco; the green always calls for bubbles. We always plan to get there an hour early, this gives us time to get a good spot right up front as well as get most of our eating out of the way before the play starts. This year there was an opening act, The Charlotte Waites, a renaissance revival music group. As we watched them set up we realized we actually knew one of the members, an eccentric man named Don that we know through the gardening community. It was especially nice, for The Mrs. and I, to get to see a number of the instruments from the MIM in Brussels actually played. After a short intermission the play started and we quickly lost ourselves in iambic pentameter. This year was notable for two reasons, one, this was in my mind the best production they have done on the green, it was very well acted, and two, the new Duke Power building is complete and makes for an impressive and somewhat imposing addition to the skyline. It hovers over you and really gives the park a truly urban feel. Luckily, the weather held up as we have been having evening thunderstorms for the past two weeks. All that and it's free, but they do pass a hat and the suggested five dollars is the least anyone can do, but if money is tight, go enjoy it anyway, good attendance brings more sponsors so you're helping regardless. I highly recommend going out and enjoying an evening on the green. I also want to mention that we checked out The Icehouse on South Blvd Friday night. First impression was good, I'll do another visit and give a full review at another time.

Fookin' Bruges

We are finally home but the adventure continues.

Saturday was our day in Bruges, which to be honest, we really knew very little about except for the movie In Bruges. As well as the little bit in our travel guide. We hopped a train that took about an hour; which we stood for half of due to the overcrowding of the train. Once we got to Ghent we finally got a seat.

The city is beautiful. It was a medieval fishing village that is now a tourist destination. The main streets are all high end shopping and food but when you get off the beaten path a little you see why people started coming here in the first place. Our fist stop was lunch. We got a bit of a late start and needed some sustenance. We found a cute little cafe right next to Onze-

Lieve-Vrouwe-Kerk. I decided that I would finally try the famed Moulles of Belgium only to be told it was not Mussel season and the Danish ones the restaurant had tried were not up to snuff so they would not be serving them. I was glad to know I had sat down at the one place that had the food love to do this. So I thought about all of the plates of mussels we had passed since arriving in Belgium and felt my superiority twinge ever so slightly. Now armed with this knowledge I was expecting a pretty good meal. In place of the mussels I opted for the Lasagna with lamb ragu. My initial thoughts were confirmed. It was amazing. A tall stack of Pasta, cheese, roasted veggies and meat sauce. What's not to love. The Mrs. had the quiche Lorraine, which was also flawlessly executed. To drink I had one of the local brews from Brewery of the Half Moon, It was their triple, the Straffe Hendrik. It was the best beer of the trip. Carmel and Lightly hoppy with a tight carbonation. From there we moved next door to the church. It was unbelievable. You always hear about the churches in Europe but until you see one for yourself nothing can describe it. To add to the excitement, housed in the church, is one of the only Michaelangelo sculptures to leave Italy It is The Madonna and child. It was breath-taking to see. There was also, and not mentioned in anything we read, a Caravaggio painting. It was just hanging there and nobody seemed to notice. It was a little faded and the depth was mostly gone, but it was still quite beautiful. Bruges is home to another world class art museum, The Groeninge, but we decided we had had enough Northern renaissance art for one trip. After the church we meandered through the streets, finding our way to the Half Moon brewery. We thought about doing the tour but opted for a nice drink on the patio instead so we could take in more of the city. I had their Zot Dubbel, a brown malty beer with hints of wood and hops, yet a little dry. It was not quite as good as the triple but still a world class beer. After leaving we headed to the Shoemakers guild house. On the way we stopped by a local beer store to pick up some local libation to bring home and considered climbing to the top of the clock tower in the center of town that plays a significant roll in the movie, but thought better of it. The guild house has been set up as a museum to show daily life in Bruges during medieval times and highlight the industry of the time, lace. It was a cute little museum but i'm glad we only paid 2 euros each to get in. And then it was back on the street and now the Mrs. had a craving for hot chocolate and who am I to argue with that. So we found a cute little coffee house. She got her hot chocolate and I had a cappuccino, which was the first good cup of coffee I'd had since we left the house. Moving on we stumbled into a city square that held another fabulous church. The Basiliek van Heilig-Blood. The draw here is that they claim to have two drops of holy blood brought back during the crusades. I don't know about all that but the sanctuary is magnificent. I am not a religious man but I can certainly appreciate the awe inspiring nature of these buildings. I wish more people could, I'm looking at you again Italy, no photos means "No Photos" and you live in a country littered with great churches. And now it was time for some dinner. We notice that when we were by the brewery a few of the restaurants had signs for their "asparagus menus". Knowing it was white asparagus season we headed back that way in search of this local delicacy. We found another restaurant, who's name I cannot recall, that was not serving mussels and slid into a table. I wanted some kind of fish while I was there so I ordered the North Atlantic Cod over white asparagus with potatoes in beurre blanc sauce and The Mrs. went for the White asparagus in egg and butter sauce, the name of which was slightly misleading. It was chopped hardboiled egg and parsley mixed with butter as a binder, not my thing but that's cool. My dish was perfect. The cod was firm but not chewy and the asparagus was slightly melty the only draw back was that the garnish was tiny little sauted shrimp that looked like yard grubs, yuck. For dessert we had the puff pastry with cherry sauce and homemade ice cream, this too was perfect. After our meal we realized we were cutting it a little close for getting to the train station. We did not realize how close until we got to a bus stop and saw that it was time for the last run of buses to make their way around the city. But, we made it with a few minuets to spare and then we were back on our way to Brussels to pack and prepare for life off vacation.

Birthday (not-so) Blues

After our ferret issues I thought my birthday would be a bit of a downer but we got some good news as we set out for the day so I was feeling a little lighter on my feet and I was determined to have a nice day if at all possible. We set out in the morning for the Museum of musical instruments. Being a musician this was a very intriguing place for me. It is housed in a former Old English department store done in an almost over the top art nouveau style. What is housed inside was slightly overshadowed by the splendor of the building. It is not laid out as I would have liked. Meaning, really, in any particular order. I would have liked to see it done more in chronological order with some explanation of the anthropology of the instruments. Also, they had a half baked method of hearing the audio samples provided for most of the instruments. With all that said, it is a beautiful museum with an extensive collection of instruments from around the world that date up to the early 20th century. The true highlight for me was a video being shown in the piano room about the replication of the very first Steinway. then there was the replica. It was so fascinating especially as a woodworker. From there we moved on and decided to make it a full Art nouveau day by heading out to the Victor Horta house museum. It was a bit of a hike but it was a nice day and the museum was in a part of town we had not been to yet. The house was simply amazing every time you turned around there was something, some small detail, to marvel at. I also want to use this moment to say that I never want to hear another european complain about American tourists so long as they continue to let Italians out of Italy. They are by far the rudest group of people we ran into on our trip. While we were in the museum an Italian man was having a very heated work related phone conversation right there in the greenhouse. And that was just one of quite a few run ins we had with Italians. I just wanted to get that off my chest. On our way out to the Horta we stopped at a little cafe/restaurant and grabbed a quick bite. We started with a round of drinks, I had a Hoegaarden just so I could compare how it was here with what we get in the states. It was much crisper and didn't have the slight chalkiness I always get from it at home. The Mrs. was very excited to see Campari and soda. For food I had the chicken cordon blue. It was nicely fried with a good ratio of chicken to ham with a flow of melty cheese in the center. It was probably not the best I had ever had but very good. The Mrs. had the kaascroquette and had the epiphany when they showed up that they were cheese sticks. Good cheese sticks, but cheese sticks nonetheless. And then after the Horta we stopped off at the famed Mort Subite for a couple rounds of their lambic. I started with the White; it is a light gueze with a slight peachyness, very refreshing. The Mrs. was branching out and had the Faro which is straight gueze sweetened with sugar. It was very nice and surprisingly dry. To follow, I felt I had to try the Kriek. It was very balanced and did not have the syrupiness I usually associate with lambics. After finishing up there we went back to Vaudeville for dinner. I wanted a good meal for my birthday dinner and I was pretty sure they would not disappoint. Also, it was not teaming with tourists, a big plus. This time The Mrs. had the carbonnade and I had the skirt steak cooked rare with a Kriek lambic mushroom reduction. It totally hit the spot. to drink i had the house beer. I have no idea who the actual brewer was but it was a big malty Belgian; just what the doctor ordered. And for a night cap, and since we were celebrating, we headed back to Delirium for one last bite of the apple. Yes, it's a tourist trap, but who cares when there is that much beer to be had. The real problem is, for me, Belgian beer is so heavy I can only drink a couple at sitting and they do not believe in flights here. First round was the house Delirium Nocturnum, it was a light, sweet brown ale, lighter than I would have expected. The Mrs. continued here tour of Kriek with a Kasteel. It was very sweet and, to be honest, a little hard to drink. Honestly, I don't remember and have no notes for my second round. By this time I was tired and ready for bed. And having avoided the subject all day wanted to get back for a Dex update. Things were looking up so I slept well. Tomorrow Bruges.

This one is hard

We were told last night that my little bubba is very ill and may not make it 'till we get home. It has been a very hard day today and we tried to do our best to do some stuff but mostly we hung around the hotel room and reflected and recharged. We knew when we left that this was a possibility as he has been sick for quite a while, but I thought he would be fine for at least ten more days. I believe the stress of a new place and disruption in his routine has maybe taken its toll. I very much hope to see him one last time.

With all of that said we will soldier on and I will continue to report from the road. My birthday tomorrow may just be a little more somber than originally planned for.

So, yesterday we woke up and had our hotel breakfast that was about the same as the last hotel with the addition of pate. No Thanks. Then we headed to the Musee des Beaux Arts, home to a stunning amount of paintings from the 1300's on to current artists, with a whole museum dedicated to Magritte. It was a daunting task. We started with the Magritte museum because it was the smaller of the sections which meant we could get lunch between the two. What I knew of Magritte was his graphic arts work more in an art deco style. I did not realize he was one of the fathers of surrealism. It was a very fascinating look at the entirety of his life and work. His most famous works are "this is not a pipe" and a series comprised of men in bowler hats in different scenes. My favorite piece though was one called "The taste of tears" it was oddly moving and incredibly sad. When we finished we went to the cafe for a snack. The cafe here is overseen by a 3star Michelin chef but we each had a sandwich. They were tasty but they were just sandwiches. I had the curry chicken and The Mrs. opted for the ham and cheese. We did split, what was basically, shoefly pie. It was fantastic. Just the right amount of sweetness a a perfect texture. On the down side it is wrong for 65 year old woman to wear leather pants; I don't care if you are Italian. It's wrong. So on to more art. The highlight of the collection and the reason we were there were for The Mrs. a small collection of Hieronymous Bosch and Pieter Bruegel the Elder and Younger. The Bosch paintings were amazing and weird as hell. For me it was the "Death of Marat" by Jacques Loise David showing the death of Jean Paul Marat. They also had a stunning collection of Peter Paul Rubens painting that were each 15 - 20 feet tall, it was very impressive to see them all together in one room. The modern art was less exciting but interesting none the less. 3 1/2 hours later we stumbled out into the sun and winced as we planned our next move. We decided on going back to the hotel to rest up for dinner. We did and then ventured out to a place we saw near the hotel called Beer Circus it was more like a beer carnival but they had a nice selection and I went for the Ichtegem "Old Brown" It is a barrel aged brown that has a light effervescent carbonation and a fantastic floral and citrus note. So far my favorite beer of the trip. For dinner I had traditional Belgian meatballs prepared with raisins and cinnamon then cooked with beer. It was good but not spectacular. The Mrs. had the carbonnade, which compared to the one I had the night before just didn't hold up but on it's own was fine. My second round I found myself unable to tear myself away from the Old Brown. This would also be a good point to say i will not be going to St. Sixtus as it is farther from the city than I had originally planned for and looks like it has become a bit of a tourist trap. I mention this because I was seated at dinner directly across from one of their shiny new six pack holders that both mocked me for my failure and comforted me in my decision. There is enough beer here to explore I will have to assert my beer dominance in another way. We then moved along, back to the Grand Palace area where we again "stummbled" upon a restaurant that The Mrs. had read about. This one was called Mokafe where we had a Belgian waffle that the Belgians could be proud of. Crisp and light and sweet and perfect. Topped of with some bananas and chocolate and we were in heaven. We went back to the hotel got the bad news and when we woke up the next morning we weighed our options. We decided we would not go to Bruges and instead aimlessly walk around the Grand Place area and see what we could see. We quickly found ourselves looking for a cookie shop for Speculoos which is a Belgian ginger snap. We found Dandoy a shop renowned for their Speculoos. They did not disappoint. From there we decided to check out the brewing museum. The Grand Place is an open courtyard the size of a football field that is ringed by a former palace, former church and the former houses for all of the trade guilds. I got my picture taken in front of the cabinetmakers and coopers guild. All are now restaurants and the like except the brewers who have been there since 1689. In the basement is a tiny little museum. For 6 euro you walk into the front room which is set up as a 17th -18th century brewery (cool) then you walk into the back room which is set up like a modern brewery and watch a propaganda film for the Belgian beer industry (less cool, but still interesting especially when they discuss lambics and gueuze.) Then you get your choice of a seasonal or a pils. They don't tell you who they are from since they represent all brewers. We each got a seasonal which was a brown. It was good but a little bitter on the finish. We ate lunch at one of the outdoor cafes that line the Grand Place. I had a nice mixed meat salad that was ham, chicken and beef all over a pile of greens with a really awesome mayo-vinaigrette The Mrs. had a croque monsieur and we shared some fries. My beer was a Tongerlo Blonde. It was kind of warm today so a light beer did me good. It had a nice bitterness but was definitely more of a mass-market beer. Then we started back to the hotel and decided to try some chocolate from Mary Chocolatier. We picked up a bark of milk chocolate and mixed nuts. The Mrs. prefers American chocolate and I prefer dark so we were both mildly disappointed. It was tasty but not really anything to write home about. Now we are resting, hoping for a better day tomorrow. I'm sure it sounds like fun but it's hard with a heavy heart.

Travel day

We woke up this morning and took our usual breakfast. Then we headed down to the Jordaan neighborhood. It is a cute little area with streets and canals that are quite a bit narrower than the rest of the city. It was a beautiful morning which made for a nice walk. We were hoping to do lunch at the Eagles Nest, the place recommended buy the guys at WF, but they were not open yet. So we found a nice little place around the corner and had a couple of drinks and I had a Gouda sandwich and The Mrs. had the Thai chicken soup. My beer was a Wieckse Witte, it had a nice crisp bit with a very light carbonation. Following that we finished packing and headed for the train. The Mrs. was concerned that our tickets consisted of nothing more than two 3-d barcodes I had stored on my phone but when the time came it worked like a champ. So we arrived in Brussels without incident. Unfortunately my first experience with the locals was trying to use the rest room which was guarded by a motley assortment of drunk homeless or semi-homeless men and women who needed 50c to let me in. They were less than friendly about it. SO we moved on and got to our hotel. The streets here are a jumble of cobblestone footpaths all crossing in an out of each other. There is no grid or wagon wheel or design plan of any sort. Luckily, The Mrs. seems to have spidey sense here so we found everything fairly well. Once checked in we turned our attention to dinner. I left the Mrs. in charge and she led us to Du Vaudeville. It was an upscale cafe inside the queens gallery. It was a magnificent place for a meal. I started with a Tripel Karmeliet which had a heavy silky mouth feel and big caramel-ly round taste. My meal was a beef Carbonnade cooked in DuPont Brown "Grand Cru". Think of the best beef stew you've ever had and then times that by a thousand. The Mrs. went for the Sausage and Stoemp. Stoemp is potatoes mashed with the fresh vegetable of the season. We were not sure what it was, maybe green beans. We moved on to take in this stunning city stumbling upon one tourist site after another. The Grand Palace, Mannekin Pis and the place is just so picturesque. Later The Mrs. unbeknown to me led us, through very tight streets full of tourists and restaurant hawkers to Delirium so I could have a drink. One drink, we will be back, so I had a Forestine Mysteria. It was appley and not the best thing we've had thus far. Also, it was incredibly heavy. The Mrs. tried to play along and let me order her a Floris Witte. She got half way in and I finished the rest. Then back to the hotel for some rest.

I think I get it now.

Today I want to start by saying, my first impression here was not a good one, but today we found out the reason the city is such a filthy sty is because there has been a garbage strike for the last three weeks. I couldn't understand why people liked it so much here. So, now as the trash slowle disappears it certainly has made a difference. We found this out while we were on our boat excursion for the trip, taking the hop on hop off museum boat. First stop for the day was the Rembrandt house. This is a recreation of the home as he lived in it using sketches and auction records from when he was evicted. I was most impressed that they still had auction records from the 1630's. It was worth the price of admission just to see some of the cabinetry. As you would imagine it is also full of lesser paintings and studies. After that we meandered around and then stopped a cafe with seating on a bridge and I got a Grolsch, which was fine but apparently Dutch beer isn't any better from the source. Our guide on the boat was not particularly kind to the home town Heineken as we passed by either. We then continued to stroll through the area until it was time to catch the next leg of our boat ride, around to the Anne Frank Museum. We had mixed feelings about going here and introducing such a soul crushing downer into our vacation but realized we owed it to ourselves to do it. It is every bit as devastating as I had imagined. I will not dwell on it here. After leaving we were both in need of a drink. We decided we would make our way back toward The Dam and if nothing caught our eye we would end up back at WF. On the way we ducked into an alley and stumbled upon In da Wildeman. A bar I had on my to do list for its selection of beer. The place was mostly empty, which was great because it gave us time to chat with the lovely bar maid about what we should have. The Mrs. decided to be brave and ordered a Mort Subite Cherry and I went for a Belgian called Floreffe Rousse. It was sweet and malty and very tasty. The cherry was sweet and sweet. Deciding to hang out a bit among the ancient bottles and alcoholics I asked our hostess about food options and we decided on a trappist cheese with crackers and a cheese and chutney pie. The cheese was amazing and the pie was good, but it was more like a baked Brie with chutney on the side. For a second round I had 't Volen which was bready with a hint of fruit. From there we moved on to WF for some Jenever action. I had a taste of the Rogge, which is a rye jenever. It was very harsh. So, I went back for some more Superior. While there we had a great conversation with the bartender and a coule of the regulars as we watched him pour a mixed drink in a jenever glass that was 1 1/2 out of the collection of flavored liquors and bitters. We informed them of the amazing world of bitters that lay out side their borders and watched their eyes light up. The bartender pointed us in the direction of a good bar for beer and with a couple of souvenirs we were on our way. Now pointed toward the Luxembourg cafe we dodged the people in The Dam and made our way up to the Leidesplein. Finding the cafe we swung in for a sit some people watching mostly so I could finally get an Amstel Gold. It was fine, basically, mass produced 8% abv beer. It did not suffer from the bitterness evident in the Heineken and Grolsch. Moving on for some dinner we found a nice little place called De Saloon. It was definitely more of a local place. For dinner I had a fillet with fried onions on top and The Mrs. opted for the burger with bacon egg and cheese. I think it about killed her. The steak was a typical brasserie steak, cooked adequately but not tough. My beer with dinner was a LaChouffe. A classic Belgian that we can get in the states but really suited my fancy last night and the freshness was definitely evident. This bodes well for Brussels. Speaking of which I am actually finishing this post as I sit there. Hopefully I can get caught up tomorrow but i'm having battery issues again so, see you soon.

To The Hague

This morning we had our plans to leave Amsterdam behind for a day and take in The Hague. We got our breakfast at the hotel and headed off to Central station where we would pick up the train out of town. Yes, us and every other tourist in Amsterdam were heading to the train station. Except, most of them had nasty hangovers from being in Dam square all night and we were farther up on the line, so we got a spot on the train. Central station was pretty easy to navigate once we found the ticket counter. You can use the machine if you have coin Euros or a chip and pin card. we had neither. But we got to listen to a group of old Canadian women, with family here, regale a young Canadian couple, with family here, of stories from visiting years ago. Actually everything went off without a hitch. About an hour later we were in The Hague. It was a little sleepier and more historic feeling than Amsterdam. Kind of like being in Boston and taking a trip up the coast to the Salem. We first planned on visiting the Mauritshui museum. Mostly because it is the home of Girl with a pearl earring and I have a man crush on Vermeer. Though, he might be a little old for me. When we arrived I found out that they were doing a special showing of early Vermeer's. In his historical phase of painting. It was odd to see the scale of the paintings being so much larger than his later work. The one down side was learning that there was a retrospective of Hans VanMeegeren, the famed Vermeer forger, in Rotterdam. This is, for some odd reason, a fascination of mine. Alas, I will not be going to Rotterdam. Next time, perhaps. Then it was on to Girl with a pearl earring. I'm still processing how I felt when i saw it. But, awe, about sums it up. There are 36 known Vermeers and 33 have known whereabouts. I hope to see them all, and I am well on my way. The Maruritshui is a very nice museum but a little heavy on the portraiture for my taste. Our second stop was the MC Escher museum. We found out about it by chance as it is not in any of our guidebooks. It resides in the old palace for the royal family and mixes the history of the family and the house into the museum. They also have a great collection of weird chandeliers. One was a huge scull and cross-bones. The museum follows the life and work of MC Escher from birth to death and is very interesting. It is also nearly empty. A drastic change from everywhere else we have been. The Highlight for me was two carved wooden balls of his tessellations. Tessellations are the two repeating figures drawn within each other and repeated. It was also interesting and mildly dumbfounding to find out that most of his work was done in woodblock stamps. I have a hard time wrapping my head around that. Then it was off for some lunch before heading back to the big city. We stopped in a place called Cloos. It was a little trendy looking but nice. I was a little scared about the service when the French family next to us as we sat down was becoming impatient with the waitress. If the French think your taking too long to do something you are in serious trouble. But, this turned out to be their problem, not ours. She was typically slow, by American standards, but fine. For beer I got the "seizoenbier", the seasonal I later learned. At any rate, it was an Affligem, I know this because it was on the glass. even though they do not take their beer seriously here they do their barware. It was outstanding. Much better than it is in the states, so fresh. For lunch I had the croquettes, I couldn't resist, and they did not disappoint. They were a little on the pasty side but very tasty. The Mrs. had a Parma ham sandwich with white asparagus and spicy greens on brown bread. Getting back to Amsterdam was a snap and after doing a little RnR back at the hotel we turned our attention to dinner. It was kind of a crap shoot so we picked Cafe De Duvel. It totally paid off. After a tram ride and semi-aimlessly wandering around we finally found it and were greeted warmly as we entered. The service was quite a bit more attentive than we have received thus far and a welcome change. The house beer was good but I don't recall the name right now. To start we had the Carpaccio served traditionally with Parmesan and arugula, also none of that quick hit on the grill b.s. we get in NC, straight up raw and so supple. It was perfect. My entrée was the roasted Iberico pork sided with green beans wrapped in prosciutto and a perfectly cooked au gratin. The Mrs. had a goat cheese ravioli that was also outstanding. Desert was syrup ice cream and funny little waffles sided with poundcake pancake wedges that had been dipped in a mint syrup, all to the good I must say. Again, back for some sleep. Until next time.

Trying to catch up

Trying to catch up from not having a computer yesterday. So, Here goes. We woke up early and took in the breakfast at the hotel. A nice continental while on the continent. Then we made our way to the Van Gogh museum. I have never been a huge Van Gogh fan but was nonetheless impressed with the diversity and range which was on display. We all know the paintings from our text books, but did you know Van Gogh painted in the style of Japanese block prints. Put your hand down Connie, I know you knew. I also discovered how identify nationality from museum viewing habits. The Italians are going the wrong way and bumping into everyone, the French are standing in the middle of the room not really paying attention, and the Germans and Americans are walking in lock step to each painting with the difference being that the Germans keep a safe distance and the Americans get nose to it. Oh, and the Spaniards are walking with the Americans and Germans but not paying any attention and talking with wild gesticulation about the meal they had. Three hours later we stumble out for a hot dog with curry sauce on the park and then head toward the Vondlepark. Vondelpark is basically Central Park only Dutch. It made for a beautiful walk on a beautiful day. We took it down back to the museum district and noticed the line at The Rijks was pretty short and we had plenty of time, so we slid in. The Rijks is under construction, along with the rest of Amsterdam, for that reason, all they have is the highlights of the museum on display. This still took a good two hours. It is a phenomenal look at the Dutch people and their history, through the lens of art. The highlight was, of coarse, The Vermeer's and the Rembrandt's, culminating in Rembrandt's "Night Watch", which is enormous. You also get a feel for how deep in talent the Dutch catalog is. After our visit to The Rijks we took some time at the hotel to recover and consider dining options. We found a couple and headed toward The Dam and Wynand Fockink. WF is a distillery and public house off of The Dam square. The Dam square is a squalid hell hole akin to Bourbon street. So we slipped into the tiny, very tiny, WF waited in line grabbed a bit of floor and watched as the mass of people ebbed and flowed in and out. It was great people watching and outstanding Genever, Including a Rye Genever called the Superior. It lived up to the name. Much better than Bols. With warmness in our bellies we wadded through the marauding hordes of tourists and yahoos looking for one of two restaurants we had picked. We kinda took the long way. Oops. And found that both were full to capacity. In desperation we wondered in to the Heineken bar. Mistake. We had a drink and then kept searching for food. Although, Heineken Galaxy is not bad on draft. Further down the road we found The Corner Pancake House. It was run buy a nice middle eastern man and the food was really good. I had Kip Bombay which was curried chicken with apples and raisins in a pancake. The Mrs. had a pancake covered and baked with a clove spiced cheese. The only real drawback to this place was no alcohol, but my liver might disagree with me. Then some sleep.

Quite the adventure

Well, we got to the airport way early and got checked in, Then as the plane was about to board we were told they had a new plane and, wait for it, it was too small. " would anyone volunteer to move their flight or go tomorrow?" . Not having a tight schedule we volunteered and found ourselves running and I mean running to catch a plane to Paris. Sorry Frankfurt, maybe next time. Best of all, the new flight arrived at the same time as the original one and we got flight vouchers. On the negative our luggage was misplaced. Which actually worked out since it meant we didn't have to lug it on public transport. And they delivered it for free. So when we made it to Paris we meandered around De Gaulle until we finally found the AirFrance desk where we were stymied until a very nice frenchman (they exist) took pity on us and moved us to the front of the line. Not having any clue what time it was we made our way to the plane, which was a KLM fight so I have no idea why we were at AirFrance but whatever, making it just in time for final boarding. We took off and were 25 min. early on a 50 min. flight. So far so good. We get off and go through the lost baggage shuffle and blame shift. Then I reach the magic KLM desk and when I give them my name, without typing anything, they tell me our bags are in Paris. Apparently, they were expecting me. I love the Dutch. So we hop a train, to the tram and get off where we think we are close to our hotel and look for food. The first thing we see is a sign for "Eten en drinken" sounds good. I got a lovely sliced beef on a roll with gravy and a Heineken (which evidently is just terrible beer. It's not good here either.) and The Mrs. had a croquette.

We checked our location and realized it was a bit of a hike to the hotel but decided it was worth it, especially since we had not figured out how to pay for the tram and hopped on and off with out paying, sorry. We made it to the street our hotel is on, past the museums and House of Bols, we'll get to that later, and walked to where we thought our hotel should be but was not, The Rijks was there. So as we walked back we realized that they do not number in block system here the numbers just start when they start. So, our hotel was two building in from where we had started, oh well. The hotel is clean, thats about all I've got, oh, and the shower kicks ass. Upon our arrival we find our way to our room and take a nap. I really needed a nap. At about four we decided to venture out, and knowing the House of Bols was a block away, was just too tempting. For those who do not know, Bols is a distillery, known mostly in The States for their insipid flavored liqueurs in the weird blue bottles. The rest of the world knows them as one of the foremost Genever distillers. So, basically, it is a liquor museum, with gift shop! Luckily it was ladies night, so the Mrs. got in half price. We made our way through the history, which dates back to the mid-1500's and smelled and tasted our way to the computer that helps you pick a cocktail based on your tastes and spits out a recipe for you to give the bartender and then take home. The bartenders whip up a drink and you can chill in the eurotrash decorated bar. Its cool enough and we guess the bartenders are from the bartending school, that Bols runs upstairs, doing some kind of penance or final exam. If you don't kill any tourists you pass. It made for great people watching. For dinner we made our way to De Wildschut for more "eten and drinken". We started with some Bitterballen, baby croquettes, and some homemade crisps. To drink the Mrs. had the house red and I got a 1/2 liter of Jupiler, an Inbev beer, that was fine. Then I got a Palm, which I can only say gives Belgian beer a bad name. It made Stella seem like liquid gold, won't make that mistake again. But my meal of chicken sate with chips was very good and the Pumpkin Lentil soup the Mrs. had looked tasty as well. I liked the laid back atmosphere and the fact that the waiter made change at the table and had a sweet "whiteboy afro". So we made our way back to the hotel for a night of fitful sleep not realizing it was 10pm. It was still light out for crying out loud. Tomorrow we look at art, lots of art.

and away we go

To day is the big day, we strap into the metal bird and sling shot across the ocean. First stop will be Frankfurt, for a layover. I hope to have enough time to grab a beer while we aimlessly wander, looking for our gate. I also hope that my pop culture sponge ability has gleaned enough German to make my way around. Here's to travel and adventure, and not being screwed by the volcano. Stay tuned....

Some reflection, and stuff

As my duties for this years Historic Charlotte Inc.'s festivities come to a close, I wanted to reflect on how much fun it has been. Sure, it has been a little hectic and nerve wracking, but thats what life is about. We set a near impossible goal and we jumped in. We started with an empty space that was at least six different colors, a small budget, and two months to make it all happen. So we filled thousands of nail holes and painted. We organized over a dozen local artists. We even became a catering company. Come opening night everything was done and I and my fellow volunteers got a chance to admire what we had accomplished. The whole experience made me reminisce about being a teenager and putting together punk rock shows at our local Lions Club. Passion can go a long way. I think people forget that. So thanks to Diane and Herbie, Leah, Terri and Jeff, Amy, John, Beth-Anne, Carrie, Mike and Charleen, all the artists, and of coarse, The Mrs. Until Next year..... I have a vacation to pack for. Europe here we come.

Chaos, what else is new.

I will start last Wed. when we had plans with Mr. and Mrs. Whiskey for dinner and a show. After contemplating our choices, and realizing there is nothing near Actors Theater, we decided to try Bistro Le Bon. This is a new restaurant in Plaza-Midwood occupying the corner of a large strip mall that also holds a Dollar General. We were meeting after work and we were trying to minimize our parking so I decided to walk. It was glorious out and well worth the effort. It also gave me the chance to stop by Lunchbox records and do some used CD shopping. I picked up the latest Slackers and an old Engine Down record. Upon my arrival to the restaurant I was greeted with the fact that they did not yet have their ABC licence but I was more than welcome to run over to the Common Market and bring in my alcohol of choice. As this sunk in the Mrs. arrived and since the Whiskeys were stuck on the other side of a train we bolted over and picked up a nice Spanish red blend. When we got back our companions were seated and perusing the menu. It is a very eclectic menu, with everything from Swedish meatballs to Shrimp Stuffed Squid. Our server was very chipper and personable, not the most professional I've encountered, but personality goes a long way; and if you can interject into a conversation about Christian Hosoi that also makes up for some lacking. We started with the fried Haloumi over brioche with figs and port reduction; it was very tasty. The Whiskeys had the appetizer of the day, which was a salmon carpaccio. It looked tasty enough but not my thing. I am trying to eat fish but that was above my comfort level at this time. The Mrs. and Mr. Whiskey had the Swedish meatballs for their entree. It was very good with supple meatballs in a light cream sauce with no hint of, shall we say, gloppiness. Counter to my usual dining habits I decided on the Veggie sandwich as did Mrs. Whiskey. I am so glad I did. It was an open face sandwich of perfectly cooked veggies piled on top of homemade cranberry-walnut bread. At that point we realized we were running a little late for our next engagement and made a b-line for ATC.

At ATC we saw a new play called End Days. Its a play about religion and family in a post 9/11 world. Its funny and touching, and a little cliche at times. But, all in all, a nice evening was had.

The next couple of days involve the golf tournament, and an organizational meeting for Historic Charlotte's Artevation. After which we joined our neighbors for a meal at Foskoskies where I had heaven on a plate. It was chicken fried chicken over stone ground grits smothered in their sausage gravy(see earlier post). I almost cried. As we were leaving I convinced Walter to give me a shirt to wear at our next show, which happened to be Saturday in Plaza-Midwood for Maynia.

Maynia is a big event that P-M puts on every year in Midwood park, where everyone comes out and sets up, picnic style, to get loaded and watch local bands. We played next to last and were the beneficiaries of beautiful weather and free flowing alcohol. The crowd seemed to enjoy themselves and I think we made some new fans, but most important, The Whiskeys brought our number one fan, Cricket. After Maynia a large contingent of people headed to our neighbors for the now famous, Meatfest. This is where they clean out their freezer and throw it all on the grill. This is, of coarse, all washed down with a healthy (or unhealthy) amount of beer and wine. As Meatfest wound down we realized we had one more stop on the crazy train. Did I mention Saturday started with a trip to the market and teaching a class on growing tomatoes in five gallon buckets. So we headed over to Green rice gallery to celebrate the wedding of some neighborhood friends and catch up on the gossip. I still had my Mohawk up from playing so everyone wanted to play with it.

And on the seventh day I rested.