Best of 2011: Meal Edition

Another year is wrapping itself up and I've been meaning to cobble together a look back on some of the meals I enjoyed most throughout the year. I finally sat down to do so was struck by what seemed to be a lack of new places to choose from this year, as it seems I relied more on a few old standbys. There are, of course, some notable exceptions to that general trend. I also found that the meals I enjoyed most that weren't out on the town usually were not created in my own Philadelphia kitchen, but in the country kitchen of M. and S. , which makes a fair amount of sense; I feel more connected to my own cooking abilities when I'm in a kitchen with enough counter space and outlets that I don't feel like I'm bumping into myself every ten seconds. As I looked back I remembered all sorts of activities that, while not being the best meals I enjoyed, were certainly memorable and meaningful moments. Perhaps one year I'll create a list of those top events ... but perhaps not. In either case, happy holidays to one and all and happy new year to boot!

The jerk chicken I so enjoyed in Jamaica last year was succulent, juicy and made all the more special by being consumed on a lounge chair right by the sea in 80 degree weather. You could count on me to be queuing up for my fair share each lunch time day.
Pho usually makes the list, but this year ushered in the era of Ha Saigon as king of the Philly pho joints, as far as I'm concerned. A little bit more of a trek than the Washington Ave. locations, its staff and pork rolls just added value to its already sumptuously beefy broth.
Hanging out with my erstwhile friend G. introduced me to at least two veggie-friendly restaurants, but I particularly enjoyed the extremely intimate experience of Hardena (maybe six tables total in a very cramped, non-descript space) - as well as its obscenely bountiful buffet plates. I keep meaning to go back to try their satay.
While I wasn't 100% wowed by their generous portion of scallops, D'Mitri's grilled octopus appetizer was some of the most tender and flavorful that I've had in my lifetime.
Another annual favorite that pops up is softshell crabs, and this year was no exception. I very much enjoyed frying a gaggle of these guys up in order to introduce them to L. and Fatty during our early Spring country soujourn.
The country made another appearance when I went up there solo for the July 4th holiday times. Did I cook skewers for six when I was just one? Yes I did. But were the two different kinds - Chipotle/Coca Cola and Soy Sauce/Garlic/Ginger/Lime/ - a revelation to me, even though I was the one who made them up to begin with? Yes.
My father's and my omakase experience at Morimoto may have been a challenge to my camera adjusting abilities and stretched my ability to appreciate neon and white leather, but the food itself was no joke. I particularly enjoyed this salmon morsel - as well as the sushi, of course.
I wasn't sure exactly what to expect when L. and I made our way to Manhattan for my first-ever ramen experience at Ippudo...but this meal surpassed whatever expectations I might have had. The rich, fatty pork broth and tender pork and spring noodles. Oh man. Just thinking about it makes me want it.
While my summer adventure with M. featured copious meals worth of a nod, I think the one that stood out the most was our extremely early-bird dinner at Au Pied de Cochon, especially our foie gras dish served simply with balsamic and bread. Though her steak tartar was not anything to turn your nose up at either.
Though one of my two early birthday beach adventures was derailed by Hurricane Irene, I can say that the one b-day dinner that I was able to enjoy at Fin's was quite something. The rockfish was a revelation and the company fantastic....I was also quite glad to try my first (and so far only) pickle martini.
While sometimes the lighting of restaurants prevents me and my limited skills from really taking the best of photographs, the food is still worth applauding. In this case, it was Cochon's charcoute garni - with its nicely grilled and slightly smoked pork ribs, backed up with sausage, pork belly and sauerkraut - that suffered the wrath of my camera ineptitude. It may not look like much, but it was good stuff indeed.
I log enough time and spend enough money at McCrossen's that it would be a damn shame if I wasn't recognizing and appreciating the place. I especially enjoyed the monthly cheese/wine/food pairings that T., L. and R. concoct for their guests. But it was this Rabbit "Porchetta" with speck, swiss chard, PX and lavender dish that really just blew my brains - and palate - away. The man knows his way around the kitchen, the woman knows her way around a cellar, and the other man knows his way around a cheese cave. Or something. Kudos.

Brunch at Bolete was another country meal I enjoyed quite a lot. The fried oysters had flavor and crispiness, the eggs perfectly cooked but still runny, the sauce delightful and not too heavy. There's something comforting about a restaurant of this caliber seemingly capable of thriving outside of a heavily urban environment.
I went to Modo Mio a lot this year, more than I really realized until I paged through the blog. And once I went through it all I was confused about which meal I wanted to highlight the most. There was that especially splendiferous raviolo, bursting with yolky goodness but there was also the greatness of a simple amatriciana with tomato and pancetta. In the end, however, I decided to go with what was freshest in my mind and most delectable on my tongue: the complimentary special beef cheek ravioli from my meal there just last month. Or earlier this month, maybe.
And that's the list for this year. Thanks to all who contributed to each one of the dining experiences that so tickled my tongue, warmed my heard and soothed my belly. I already have a few ideas of places I'd like to try in the new year, and hope that I will be just as amazed in the next 365 days as I did over the last ones.

You can see past years' wrap ups here: 2010, 2009, 2008.

Jamaica Coast in Speedy Driving Photos

K. left in the morning on Tuesday. I had to check out by noon, which cramped my style a little since I wasn't being picked up until 1:30. I am usually good at time management, but I usually overestimate on how long everything will take, which makes me conservative in my activity planning. Point being that what I really wanted to do after K. left around 10 was sunscreen myself, go to the beach and read and float, then return to the room take a shower, get jerk chicken, check out and then get the shuttle on back to Montego Bay. But I simply didn't have faith that I could get it all done, and I really needed that shower element of the plan. So in the end I walked to the beach once more and stood with my feet in the water for a few long, hot minutes. I'm sure the tourists around me found it a little peculiar. Actually, probably not. There were men in speedos. That is far more peculiar than a girl in a dress standing up to her ankles in the sea. I checked out on time but then found myself with an hour and a half to kill. I ended up just sittin along the lobby's balcony area, reading Patti's Smith's Just Kids (now that's a book that sank me into an existential crisis over my artistic lack of identity). Eventually a small van already containing a number of others from different resorts pulled up and I packed myself on. The drive was about an hour and a half, and I was relatively vigilant in taking photographs during that time. Though I couldn't quite get it together to take a good shot of GOATS.







I was quite taken with the fact that Coke in Jamaica is made with real sugar. I told K. that I thought high fructose corn syrup was the devil (mainly because Michael Pollan and Barbara Kingsolver and news personalities have told me so) but couldn't quite explain my reasoning. This happened again with L. just last week.
Penguins!
And that, my friends, is my trip to Jamaica. I killed time in the airport by drinking two red stripes and writing. While two people did sit in my row on the plane, they quickly decamped to more roomy seats after we were in the air, which allowed me to once again sprawl myself across three seats for the majority of the flight. I also started Chuck Klosterman's Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs. That guy. Why can't I be so clever? It would rationalize all my worst qualities if I could only write smart things about all the shit I watch. When I left Jamaica it was in the mid-80s. When I arrived in Philadelphia, it was 39 degrees. A rather abrupt return to reality, if you ask me.

Good Company, Not Good Food

After our beer balcony time, K. and I went and had our last pina coladas of the vacation.
One of the bartenders started to refer to K. as his 'wifey,' she wasn't overly fond of that.
We went to the Asian restaurant, which was a reservation-only spot. But why? Why? I have no idea. No idea whatsoever. Man. Seriously. It's a mystery. This photograph may make the food not look so bad, but it was actually quite depressing. Nothing tasted good. Well, their chicken skewers were okay, but that's it. Seriously. It was demoralizing. We hadn't planned on getting too wild our last night, but I felt so dejected by the end of this meal (which was all buffet) that K. and I both ended up returning to the room and, for the first time on the trip, TURNED ON THE TELEVISION. So. To review: Riu Ocho Rios: decent drinks, so-so buffet, overrated 'restaurants.'
So even though this was a disappointment, it was still a good trip on the whole. Just so I'm not too negative nelly here.

Beer and Small Backslides

So we returned from the beach, showered off the sand and salt, and took to the balcony for another Dragon Stout.
Now it's been three or so weeks since I started using the patch, and I don't want to sound like I'm completely rationalizing here, but I went from being a pack a day smoker to no cigs, and that is the ultimate goal. No cigs. But, honestly, it was vacation. So I allotted myself a maximum of two cigs in the evening. I wasn't even sure if I was going to give myself that leeway when I left Philly, which meant I didn't pack a lighter. People, for a smoker not to bring a lighter ON PURPOSE, is a really huge step in the right direction. Though it did mean that I had to buy this Jamaica lighter. When I went through customs there were only three things I declared: a toothbrush, a thing of coffee and this lighter. I probably didn't need to declare any of it, but I felt like following the letter of the law. Anyways. Above is a natural shot of me handing K. her beer. And below. Well, below speaks for itself.
I'm back to being good, just so you know.

Beach Times

I forgot to mention that at some point on Sunday K. and I both had full body massages. This was not inclusive, we had to pay for the privilege. This was my first-ever full body massage done by a professional. It was pretty relaxing, though I don't know that I really felt that its effects lasted for the rest of the day. Anyways. We're talking Monday at this point. After returning from our adventures off-site, we got our suits and books and whatnots together and tromped to the beach. We found a pretty good spot that gave the option of shade and plenty of direct sun to boot. I floated. K. Read. We both read. I floated. You know. The norm. This was my view from my lounge chair.
This was another view.
And yet another.
A nice Canadian (man there were sooooo many Canadians aboot) woman saw us attempting to take a photograph of ourselves (it turned out very poorly) and offered us some assistance. I thank her for it.
Cousins for life.

Dragon Stout, Jerk Pork and Soup c/o Scotchie's

After we met back up with Monroe, our next stop on our stint away from the resort was Scotchie's, which was recommended to us by Pat. We were some of their first customers. I went with the jerk pork and their pea soup of the day. K. went with the jerk chicken. The pork was fantastic. Nice and crispy on the outside, still moist on the inside. And their accompanying sauce definitely had more kick than the hotel equivalents. I liked the soup too, very hot in temperature.
K. had been to Jamaica before a few years back, and was determined to drink Dragon Stout, which was not offered at the hotel. So before we went to Scotchie's she ran into a local gas station and grabbed six bottles, two of which we drank during our lunch. K. felt that the chicken was better than the hotel. I had a bite and found it just as good, but I think I would have had to consume more to be sure of my feelings.
Because of her past Jamaican experiences, K. also wanted to consume at least one meat patty while we were out. Monroe was kind enough to take us on a little bit of a detour to St. Anns Bay, where we went and ordered our patty fixes at Juici Patties. This was the most off-the-beaten-path we went. The town was definitely not geared towards tourists, and just by the nature of our skin, we stood out but, I don't know, Jamaica has this reputation for being dangerous. Obviously we were going to a food establishment in the middle of the day with a local by our side, so what do I know; we were conspicuous but I didn't feel unsafe. I went with a beef patty. I liked it, but my belly was so stuffed from the pork I couldn't quite finish it. We also both ordered coco bread, but that wasn't really my scene. K. and I have different relationships with carbohydrates in the form of bread.

And then we returned to the hotel, where Monroe charged us $20 less that he had originally quoted. I thought that was nice. We tipped him well. I think.

Cranbrook Forest: A Tiny Little Trip Off-Resort

Before leaving for Jamaica, I did a fair amount of research about potential activities and restaurants off the Riu resort where we were staying. I considered horseback riding, tubing, going to Goldeneye (I think that's what it's called), and a host of other things. But in the end I thought Cranbrook Forest would give us a far better experience than Dunn River Falls (I'm sure the falls are delightful, but I don't want to climb a waterfall while holding hands with thirty other people, thanks). So we arranged through our Apple Vacation representative Pat (a very, very nice lady) for a driver (Monroe) to take us. A price was agreed upon, and a time, and off we went. Cranbrook wasn't quite what I thought it would be. But I don't know exactly what I thought it would be. Perhaps a few more more manicured presentations of flowers? A few more open expanses? Regardless of what my, or K.'s, expectations were, it was a nice change of pace from the resort. On our walk along a raging stream, we saw countless kinds of plants, a number of birds and very few people. Our walk started with a peacock.
The water was beautiful though definitely rushing.
I didn't bother photoshopping any of these photographs because they're not that good.

This reminded me of a tulip poplar kind of.
Fallen flower on the ground.
Hello giant leaf, you will protect me right?
Hummingbird. I tried to convince him it would be a better idea to land on a branch not entirely in the shade. He responded by flying away entirely.
LIZARD!
I asked Monroe what sort of bird this was, and he said Doctor Bird, which is the familiar name for Red-billed Streamertail. It, too, was very curmudgeonly about staying still so I could take a good picture.
I think we probably walked a little over a mile up into the forest before returning back. Not too strenuous, but good after a few solid days of drinking and lounging.

Breakfast Repeat

So I didn't really change my breakfast situation up. Though I did lose interest in the sausages; they were great the first day and then just meh in the days that followed.

Salad and A Little of Everything

Another dinner found us back at the main buffet bar extravaganza. I went with concocting a Caesar salad, to which I added a few artichokes and beets, and, inexplicably, one slice of processed cheese.
Dinner options that night were many, but most disappointed. Though we both liked their green beans.