There's nothing like the first day home from vacation. Piles of laundry, piles of cat puke, buckets of rain. OK, perhaps I'm exaggerating a tiny bit - there was only one pile of puke. Stupid sensitive male cats.
For those of you not in the know, I spent the last week traveling to, skiing in, and traveling back from Sunday River. That's in Maine, in case you didn't feel like doing a Google search. About a 9hr drive, which isn't too awful split between three people. The reason I'm only now writing about my trip is because there was no internet in the condo and I wasn't comfortable leaving my netbook at the lodge while we were skiing. I'm going to get the annoying stuff that happened out of the way:
1. Had an underwire fail.
2. Found a hole in some underpants - I think I'm going to be done with Victoria's Secret. Those panties were NOT old.
3. My favorite jammie pants ripped beyond repair. Considering how old they were, it was not entirely unexpected.
4. I lost my ring somewhere in the lodge. Major sadface about that.
On to the rest...
The conditions on the mountains were fantastic. Sunny and warm, not too crowded. The lack of crowds was especially good as I hadn't been skiing for about 2 years and I wasn't sure how it was going to go. Other than having my ski pants jammed up my hoohah for 4 days straight, and taking one minor tumble, it went rather well. The tumble didn't even injure my pride as I was expecting to take at least one. The ski pants issue was just because I'm apparently exactly the same size as I was when I got the pants two years ago...just too large for them. Doesn't really matter because they were comfy enough.
Our condo was on the small size and the door to the balcony required an authoritative push to get it to latch. The bathroom was minuscule but hot water was plentiful. There was a pool with a hot tub and a sauna in the complex but I didn't use either of those. The hot tub was mostly populated by young bucks drinking beers. Luckily for us, since our windows faced the pool, that all closed down at 10.
I had a choice of sleeping spaces. The first was one of the most claustrophobic bunks I have ever seen. Picture a blank wall. OK, now cut out a 6x6 hole and shove two beds, one about three feet above the other, in there. Yeah, I took one look and announced that I would be sleeping on the couch. It was a fold out, but I didn't bother with that. I can manage to sleep anywhere for a short period of time. And the couch was long enough, so I was actually pretty comfy.
We had a great view up the mountain from the balcony. It was really cool to look out the window at night and see them grooming the trails. No, I don't have any pictures. You should know by now that I'm not any sort of shutterbug. Just imagine a hill with trees and snow and you're good.
Not surprisingly, we had some really good meals while up there. One place, S.S. Milton, was in the town of Bethel. Milton's is a small, slightly pricey place (good thing I wasn't picking up the tab) with excellent food. They have a delicious lobster chowder (nothing like being close to the source) and the chef obviously knows how to cook seafood. The lobster casserole I had was a bit on the rich side, but I had skied all day. I needed to replenish, right? Eh, I was on vacation. I've never had the kind of willpower that could keep me on any sort of diet/sensible eating plan while vacationing. I also had a drink from Holland called Choco Vine. The menu said it was better than Bailey's and it was definitely as good. Who knew Cabernet and chocolate were soul mates? We ate at Milton's twice and it was equally as good the second time.
The other place we ate was about 20 feet away from our condo, Phoenix Bistro and Bar. Again, a bit on the pricey side, but the food was good across the board. And the portions were extremely generous. I took leftovers back the first night (chicken piccata), and thought I was going to grow gills after the enormous and delicious and perfectly rare tuna sandwich I had the second night. Couldn't manage dessert but I did down two glasses of Shiraz.
The weather turned a bit on Friday, but I still got a good view of Mt. Washington on the way home. Driving through Connecticut is a fairly awful experience but my mom got that stint. It started raining pretty steadily in NY but without the winds we got today. Got home around 9 or so, thought I was gonna do laundry and watched TV instead.
Now for the minor weirdness. Back in September, I posted a silly little thing in Missed Connections on Craigslist about almost running over a cyclist. Surprisingly enough, I got a couple of replies. Nothing came of it, which was fine as I wasn't expecting anything. Then this morning, I'm checking the email account I used for the post, and I have an email from one of the dudes who had replied to my post originally. It said (paraphrasing here) "Cycling season is right around the corner, do you want to see me in my spandex?" What now? It's been six months, guy. Do you really thing I've been pining away for a glimpse of you in your candy colored man tights? 'Cause I haven't been. In fact, I'm a little worried about you. Why would you decide that this was a good idea? We exchanged about three emails and now you want to parade around for me in form-fitting biking gear? I think I'll take a pass. But thanks for thinking of me.
Showing posts with label vacation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vacation. Show all posts
13 March 2010
22 October 2009
Eating in Chicago
That dark picture over there is Sepia, the restaurant we ate at last night.
Despite being about 8 minutes late for our reservation, we still had to wait a bit for the table. We went to the small lounge/bar area. My mom ordered some drink with ginger beer in it, and my dad got a pink concoction with gin in it somewhere. I stuck with a glass of Syrah.
After about 10 min, our table was ready and we got seated in a nice cozy little corner. we were eating fairly late (8:30) but the noise level was still pretty high. Sepia is obviously a fairly "hip" place. The cuisine is, well, I guess gourmet Bavarian about covers it. For starters, we had salad (me), housemade sausage with lentils (Dad), and white bean soup with pork (Mom). The lentils were cooked with bacon and the soup had a pile of shaved marrow on it. Verrrrry rich. The bread was multi-grain rolls that had an unfortunate resemblance to poos. Tasted fine.
For the main course, we had short ribs with red cabbage and spatzle (me), flat iron steak with bone marrow beignets (Dad), and a beautiful pork chop with arugula and peaches (Mom). After sharing tastes, we agreed that I had made the best choice, but that bone marrow beignets are awesome. My mom was unable to finish off her chop (it was massive).
Aside from the noise level, which did drop as it got later, my biggest complaint would be the saltiness of the food. Yes, I know I'm Ms Anti-salt, but both my parents agreed. Otherwise, the service was super friendly and efficient and I would recommend Sepia to anyone with a slightly adventurous palate.
Lunch today was Topolobampo, one of Rick Bayless's restaurants. It shares a (noisy) bar with Frontera Grill, Bayless's other restaurant. The cuisine is Mexican/South American.
Starters: Tortilla soup with chicken, housemade sour cream and cheese for me and mom, the half-size Grand plate for my dad. The Grand plate came with half-a-dozen oysters and 2 different ceviches. One was tuna and apricot, the other was Hawaiian sunfish. Both were delicious. The soup was perfect as the nice weather of Wednesday abandoned us and it was rainy and gray and windy. Y'know, Chicago.
That dish over to the left is the seafood and black rice dish my mom ordered for her entree. I didn't have any, but she ate every last scrap, so I would assume it was full of yum. My dad got a potato dish with three different types of taters; yukon, fingerling, and purple. The was smoked and mashed, crunchy chips, and tiny purple potatoes scattered around. It was served with a nice roasted tomato sauce and a creamy cheesy sauce. I had Chichurron de Queso, which is basically a giant fried cheese wafer that was served with a mixed greens salad (tasty lime-serrano dressing) and chicken, avocado, and some bit that I'm fairly certain were peppers. Here a picture of my meal, with my dad's potatoes in the background:
I also had agua de jamaica, which was a beautiful magenta color and was sweetly fruity with a good tea taste to it. My dad had another pink concoction, this time with hibiscus. The server said it was rust-colored. I would have tipped extra just for that.
Tonight is dinner at Blackbird, so I'm gonna go get dressed. If I'm not stuffed into stuperousness, I'll write about it tonight.
Despite being about 8 minutes late for our reservation, we still had to wait a bit for the table. We went to the small lounge/bar area. My mom ordered some drink with ginger beer in it, and my dad got a pink concoction with gin in it somewhere. I stuck with a glass of Syrah.After about 10 min, our table was ready and we got seated in a nice cozy little corner. we were eating fairly late (8:30) but the noise level was still pretty high. Sepia is obviously a fairly "hip" place. The cuisine is, well, I guess gourmet Bavarian about covers it. For starters, we had salad (me), housemade sausage with lentils (Dad), and white bean soup with pork (Mom). The lentils were cooked with bacon and the soup had a pile of shaved marrow on it. Verrrrry rich. The bread was multi-grain rolls that had an unfortunate resemblance to poos. Tasted fine.
For the main course, we had short ribs with red cabbage and spatzle (me), flat iron steak with bone marrow beignets (Dad), and a beautiful pork chop with arugula and peaches (Mom). After sharing tastes, we agreed that I had made the best choice, but that bone marrow beignets are awesome. My mom was unable to finish off her chop (it was massive).
Aside from the noise level, which did drop as it got later, my biggest complaint would be the saltiness of the food. Yes, I know I'm Ms Anti-salt, but both my parents agreed. Otherwise, the service was super friendly and efficient and I would recommend Sepia to anyone with a slightly adventurous palate.
Lunch today was Topolobampo, one of Rick Bayless's restaurants. It shares a (noisy) bar with Frontera Grill, Bayless's other restaurant. The cuisine is Mexican/South American.Starters: Tortilla soup with chicken, housemade sour cream and cheese for me and mom, the half-size Grand plate for my dad. The Grand plate came with half-a-dozen oysters and 2 different ceviches. One was tuna and apricot, the other was Hawaiian sunfish. Both were delicious. The soup was perfect as the nice weather of Wednesday abandoned us and it was rainy and gray and windy. Y'know, Chicago.
That dish over to the left is the seafood and black rice dish my mom ordered for her entree. I didn't have any, but she ate every last scrap, so I would assume it was full of yum. My dad got a potato dish with three different types of taters; yukon, fingerling, and purple. The was smoked and mashed, crunchy chips, and tiny purple potatoes scattered around. It was served with a nice roasted tomato sauce and a creamy cheesy sauce. I had Chichurron de Queso, which is basically a giant fried cheese wafer that was served with a mixed greens salad (tasty lime-serrano dressing) and chicken, avocado, and some bit that I'm fairly certain were peppers. Here a picture of my meal, with my dad's potatoes in the background:
I also had agua de jamaica, which was a beautiful magenta color and was sweetly fruity with a good tea taste to it. My dad had another pink concoction, this time with hibiscus. The server said it was rust-colored. I would have tipped extra just for that.Tonight is dinner at Blackbird, so I'm gonna go get dressed. If I'm not stuffed into stuperousness, I'll write about it tonight.
16 June 2009
My Trip to Lower Manhattan
I spent some time in NY this weekend. We stayed at the Millennium Hilton across the street from Ground Zero. Call me callous or lacking in national pride, but I didn't really have any feelings of loss or sorrow. I was amazed at the scope of the construction that is currently going on, but I didn't hear the screams of the dying as I looked down on the site. Plus the place was surrounded by people with pamphlets purporting to tell the "truth" about 9/11.
Moving right along. Across Dey from the hotel is Century 21. While it once may have been New York's best kept secret; it's now a madhouse of bargain hunters. The building it is housed in used to be a bank. Now it's several floors of massive consumerism as designed by MC Escher. I went down several secret staircases to find the shoes but somehow ended up at street level. If I ever return to Century 21, it will not be on a Saturday and I will plan to devote (at least) the morning. Then maybe come back after a fortifying lunch at the Stage Door Deli. But I do get shopping burnout rather quickly so who knows.
I got a nice tour of the MTA. For the most part, we managed to figure out what trains we needed to take, but there were a few mishaps. For example, we needed to take the 2 or 3 over to Chelsea and I accidentally (and with the utmost confidence) led everyone down to the "L" trains. Oops. Luckily we managed to find our way to the correct platform with only a minimum of crotchety bitching from my dad.
We got to be among the first thousand people or so to walk along the newly opened High Line on Saturday. While there were several ways to exit the High Line (12, 14, 16, 18 and 20th), you could only go up at 12th. Apparently they are assessing the traffic before opening it fully. It was kind of nice to meander along what used to be an elevated rail line. Nature took back hers and now it's a skinny designer concrete path zigzagging between the remains of the rails and sprouts of greenery. After our wander, we ate lunch at a cute little Mexican place called Los Dados. Decent guac, yummy shrimp enchiladas, cute gayboy waiter, terrible sinks in the bathroom. Seriously. They were tiny and the faucet was on the side and you could barely get your hands in there. If you eat there, use the handicapped bathroom (y'know, if no handicapped people need it) because that sink is much, much better.
Friday night, we opted to do the tourist thing and headed down to the South Street Seaport. Had drinks (a Blue Moon) and apps (watermelon, feta, and red onion salad) at a place called Sequoia (I think) and then headed over to a brewery-slash-bbq joint for the main event. My dad and I had a pretty decent wheat something or other while my mom went for the IPA. Then I ate a shit-ton of ribs and had some cheese grits (tasted like cream of wheat with Velveeta mixed in). Then I exploded. It's a damn good thing we had walked about 22k steps that day.
Friday was a visit to the Guggenheim to see the Frank Lloyd Wright exhibit. It was really cool to see models of the stuff that didn't get built like the crazy car park/planetarium and the rich person playground built into the hills of southern California. The Guggenheim is an awesome museum but walking uphill the whole way wears on ya. They were doing a promo and we got the audio tour for free but I managed to miss around 95% of it. The numbers you punch in to hear the info were not readily apparent so I gave up after a bit. As we were resting near the top of the spiral, my dad and I had a discussion about the best way to rollerskate down - you know, without killing yourself or getting arrested.
It was nice of the weather to cooperate. We got into Manhattan right after some rain and headed out Saturday afternoon just as more was coming in. Of course, it was raining pretty hard when we got into Hamilton, but as we were most of the way home, no big deal.
We also hit Battery Park and the Hudson River Park. I don't have much to say about that. Oh, and next time you're in NY, make sure to look for the little metal dudes in the subway.
Moving right along. Across Dey from the hotel is Century 21. While it once may have been New York's best kept secret; it's now a madhouse of bargain hunters. The building it is housed in used to be a bank. Now it's several floors of massive consumerism as designed by MC Escher. I went down several secret staircases to find the shoes but somehow ended up at street level. If I ever return to Century 21, it will not be on a Saturday and I will plan to devote (at least) the morning. Then maybe come back after a fortifying lunch at the Stage Door Deli. But I do get shopping burnout rather quickly so who knows.
I got a nice tour of the MTA. For the most part, we managed to figure out what trains we needed to take, but there were a few mishaps. For example, we needed to take the 2 or 3 over to Chelsea and I accidentally (and with the utmost confidence) led everyone down to the "L" trains. Oops. Luckily we managed to find our way to the correct platform with only a minimum of crotchety bitching from my dad.
We got to be among the first thousand people or so to walk along the newly opened High Line on Saturday. While there were several ways to exit the High Line (12, 14, 16, 18 and 20th), you could only go up at 12th. Apparently they are assessing the traffic before opening it fully. It was kind of nice to meander along what used to be an elevated rail line. Nature took back hers and now it's a skinny designer concrete path zigzagging between the remains of the rails and sprouts of greenery. After our wander, we ate lunch at a cute little Mexican place called Los Dados. Decent guac, yummy shrimp enchiladas, cute gayboy waiter, terrible sinks in the bathroom. Seriously. They were tiny and the faucet was on the side and you could barely get your hands in there. If you eat there, use the handicapped bathroom (y'know, if no handicapped people need it) because that sink is much, much better.
Friday night, we opted to do the tourist thing and headed down to the South Street Seaport. Had drinks (a Blue Moon) and apps (watermelon, feta, and red onion salad) at a place called Sequoia (I think) and then headed over to a brewery-slash-bbq joint for the main event. My dad and I had a pretty decent wheat something or other while my mom went for the IPA. Then I ate a shit-ton of ribs and had some cheese grits (tasted like cream of wheat with Velveeta mixed in). Then I exploded. It's a damn good thing we had walked about 22k steps that day.
Friday was a visit to the Guggenheim to see the Frank Lloyd Wright exhibit. It was really cool to see models of the stuff that didn't get built like the crazy car park/planetarium and the rich person playground built into the hills of southern California. The Guggenheim is an awesome museum but walking uphill the whole way wears on ya. They were doing a promo and we got the audio tour for free but I managed to miss around 95% of it. The numbers you punch in to hear the info were not readily apparent so I gave up after a bit. As we were resting near the top of the spiral, my dad and I had a discussion about the best way to rollerskate down - you know, without killing yourself or getting arrested.
It was nice of the weather to cooperate. We got into Manhattan right after some rain and headed out Saturday afternoon just as more was coming in. Of course, it was raining pretty hard when we got into Hamilton, but as we were most of the way home, no big deal.
We also hit Battery Park and the Hudson River Park. I don't have much to say about that. Oh, and next time you're in NY, make sure to look for the little metal dudes in the subway.
18 September 2008
Life Was A Beach; Now It's A Bitch
Vacations are lovely. I just got back from Bethany Beach, DE and if it weren't for the fact that my car died in the Wawa parking lot, I'd still be all zoned out and relaxed.
The beach is a funny place. I used to go a lot when I was a wee'un and I loved getting buried in the sand and body-surfing. I got to eat ice cream and pancakes and play skeeball. As I got older, the beach started to have new possibilities. Namely, boys.
Now, I don't know about all of you, but I have seen lots of movies and read books where people go to the beach and magical lovely things happen. You know: boy meets girl, sparks happen, boy and girl begin tentative relationship, uh-oh! plot device to drive the couple apart, whew! it was all a misunderstanding. Kisses on the beach, fade, and done. This would be the point where I tell you that that has never happened to me.
So, regardless of my previous beachy experiences, as I drove into the first in a line of Delaware beach towns, I got all twitchy. Ooooo, the possibilities! Maybe this trip would be THE trip. Maybe I'll have the magical moment. Picture it: waves crashing, my hair perfectly tousled by the salt breeze, my cheeks nicely rosy from the sun. He is tall and bronzed and sensitive yet manly. I am the girl he has been waiting for. He cups my face in his strong hands, gazes into my eyes, and...well, you've seen the movie.
I'm sure you've figured out that this did not happen. I spent a very nice and relaxing couple of days with my parents. I read some beach-type books, ate some good food and had ice cream for lunch one day. I got a bit of a tan and managed to destress. Which was almost ruined by the fact that my car died as I was leaving Wawa earlier with my cibatta melt and iced tea. Waiting for the AAA tow truck for over an hour is a buzz kill. Much thanks goes out to my neighbor for coming out and 1) giving me a jump, and 2) hanging out with me when my car died again and giving me a ride home.
The beach is a funny place. I used to go a lot when I was a wee'un and I loved getting buried in the sand and body-surfing. I got to eat ice cream and pancakes and play skeeball. As I got older, the beach started to have new possibilities. Namely, boys.
Now, I don't know about all of you, but I have seen lots of movies and read books where people go to the beach and magical lovely things happen. You know: boy meets girl, sparks happen, boy and girl begin tentative relationship, uh-oh! plot device to drive the couple apart, whew! it was all a misunderstanding. Kisses on the beach, fade, and done. This would be the point where I tell you that that has never happened to me.
So, regardless of my previous beachy experiences, as I drove into the first in a line of Delaware beach towns, I got all twitchy. Ooooo, the possibilities! Maybe this trip would be THE trip. Maybe I'll have the magical moment. Picture it: waves crashing, my hair perfectly tousled by the salt breeze, my cheeks nicely rosy from the sun. He is tall and bronzed and sensitive yet manly. I am the girl he has been waiting for. He cups my face in his strong hands, gazes into my eyes, and...well, you've seen the movie.
I'm sure you've figured out that this did not happen. I spent a very nice and relaxing couple of days with my parents. I read some beach-type books, ate some good food and had ice cream for lunch one day. I got a bit of a tan and managed to destress. Which was almost ruined by the fact that my car died as I was leaving Wawa earlier with my cibatta melt and iced tea. Waiting for the AAA tow truck for over an hour is a buzz kill. Much thanks goes out to my neighbor for coming out and 1) giving me a jump, and 2) hanging out with me when my car died again and giving me a ride home.
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