Martini and Banh Mi c/o Alla Spina

Week before last LW and I headed west in search of some rather spectacular lobster deals...but we hadn't made a reservation at our intended destination and found the wait too long for our liking. So instead we went to Alla Spina. I believe we both had dirty martinis.

In times past, I have always enjoyed the look and the feel of Alla Spina, but never quite loved any of the small dishes I tried. But it's not a place I don't want to go back to. It's a place that I am convinced makes tasty things, but that I'm simply ordering wrong. That evening was the first time this basic philosophy was validated. I chose the Italian banh mi with roasted pork shoulder, chicken liver paté, pickled daikon, carrots and cilantro. I found it much to my liking. The baguette was generally tough but pliant on the outside with a little more give and tenderness on the inside, and the mix of pork and chicken and carrots et al worked as well. I think I had expected slightly thicker bits of pork, but on the whole it was a sandwich I enjoyed. 

Dinner c/o Paper Canoe in Duck, NC

At one point the idea was had that all 20 of us might find a way to go out to dinner as a group. This was a lovely theoretical plan, but it did have a few glitches. The largest glitch was simply that there weren't many restaurants that could cater to such a large party, and those that did could only seat us at a time that would conflict with a desire to get all the kids in sleep mode before 11:30. But the idea of going out - sans kids - still appealed to one and all, which led to a plan of shifts between the parents and grandparents of the youth. Dad and I weren't really on kid duty, but I think we ended up in the 'late shift.' We went to the Paper Canoe. We were a little early so we sat at the bar for a second for a warm up cocktail. I went with a dirty martini with three olives.

We were then seated with a lovely view of the sound/bay enhanced by a not-yet-set sun, the rays of which delightfully played across the olive oil we were served along with bread. We

Dad also ordered a bottle of wine with crab in its name and though I took a number of photographs of the bottle, I took none with the label facing entirely towards me. The laughing crab? The hesitant crab? The happy crab? One might never know.

We also ordered one of the specials of the night a mushroom, duck and brie puff pastry served with a bit of pesto and red pepper coulis. I think it was coulis. It was coulis like in any case.

It was definitely above average. The mushrooms were perfectly seasoned, the pastry flaky and not so doughy or heavy, and just the right amount of brie to pull it all together.

I leaned towards the crab stuffed shrimp for my main dish. And they were not bad. The crab meat itself was a little too shredded overseasoned for my lump loving purist self.

Dad had the scallops with an Asian-ish bent to it, with sesame soba noodles and a rich broth. The scallops were tender and perfectly seared. Nice work.

It was a nice meal and much quieter than the many shared with such a rag tag group of folks. Both are good experiences, but very different from one another.

Martinis and Snacks c/o Tank Bar

Weeks ago, some time before Christmas, in a haze of work, I made my way to Friday Saturday Sunday's Tank Bar for a cocktail meet up with BC. I first tried a sweet cosmo type of cocktail, the Pinky Tuscadero, which was basically a cosmo with plum juice and raspberry elements. BC went in a totally different direction, ordering the Spicy, Dirty Bond. A vodka martini with the addition of olive juice and tabasco. It had a nice kick, and so when my sweet drink had been finished, I changed directions and went spicy.

We also shared the grilled chipotle barbequed shrimp with jicama slaw and avocado dipping sauce. I also looked into the mushroom soup, but the photographs of said soup were not so good so I am not sharing them. The snacks were good, maybe not awesome, but good. The soup was especially creamy delicious and the shrimp had a bit of flare to them. But really it was the conversation of BC and our bartender that was most enjoyable. Whenever I go to Tank Bar I enjoy myself, it's definitely more of a 'date' type place, but if you're looking to have a nice conversation with a friend and the humorous interjections of a bartender with good stories, then it's not just for the date crowd. 

Restaurant Week Dinner c/o R2L

The last two weeks have been Philadelphia's Center City Fall Restaurant weeks. This means that a whole slew of dining establishments in Center City are offering three course meals for $35. People in the foodie world have different perspectives on these weeks. A lot of industry folk grumble about it: folks come into a restaurant where an entree is usually $20 and expect the same level of service/food at quite the discounted rate, don't tip enough, etc etc. Which is all fair and good to note. But for those of us who aren't made of money but appreciate good food, restaurant week gives us the opportunity to at least get a sense of what these finer dining destinations have to offer, and whether we'd like to come back for a special occasion and pay full price. So when it came to choosing a spot or two to try out for the first time, I aimed at places I thought were pretty interesting but definitely outside of my normal budget. In previous years this led me to meals at Buddakan, Tequilas, and Union Trust. This time around I scheduled two outings. The first was to R2L with LW. I had been to R2L ever so briefly when my Childhood Friend, K. and I had dinner at Alma de Cuba and then K. suggested we at least take a look at R2l...even though they were very much closing for the night. But this time around they were in the swing of things. When we arrived and took the elevator to the 37th floor, we were quickly greeted and ushered to the bar while a table was set for us. There I ordered a dirty Stoli martini and requested three olives, which were happily provided by our friendly and attractive bartender. LW ordered a drink that involved those fancy marinated cherries, of which she requested extras and, again, the bartender was happy to oblige. Soon after our cocktails were in hand, we were seated. I was pleased that we were given a window seat, which allowed us to determine just which direction we were looking in: west. We kept trying to find landmarks and for the longest time really couldn't. Then after finally saying, yes, that is west, we realized that the most obvious landmark - 30th Street Station - was most clearly visible and in front of us. It was a 'duh' moment.

R2L's lighting is dim and moody, which made getting decent photographs a bit of a challenge, so forgive the rather less than perfect quality of the photographs that follow. I chose to go with the shrimp cocktail for my appetizer. They were plump shrimp with a nice spicy cocktail sauce to go along with them. LW chose the chicken liver and foie gras mousse, which was delicious.

For my main course I chose the "R2L Style" veal stew, which was veal three ways: meatloaf, breast and tenderloin. I'd never heard of veal/cow having a 'breast' before, but I was quite pleased with the presentation and taste of this dish, especially the tenderloin.  LW ordered the flounder fluke paella, which also seemed to be a hit.

We both chose the roasted pears with concord grape reduction and buttermilk panna cotta. I wish one of my wider shots had come through so you could better see the presentation, but lighting conditions prevented a decent shot. My favorite part was most certainly the bites of panna cotta with concord grape essence. I could have gone for just a bowl of that grape stuff. Yes indeed.

The place seemed to be doing a brisk night of business for a Sunday, but no server seemed totally overworked or harried.

Martini and Oysters c/o Fin's

After a lovely afternoon at the beach I took a shower and then set out on an independent oyster fix at my go-to oyster spot in the Rehoboth/Lewes area: Fins. I was lucky enough to grab a seat at the already pretty packed bar and ordered myself a dirty martini, which was expertly prepared and oh-so-delightful.

I then ordered a dozen oysters, six Mayflower and six Beaver Tail. My notes are rather spare due to the entertaining bar conversation/dynamic I quickly joined with a few fellow bar patrons to my left. I believe I asked the bartender which oysters were closest to a Pemaquid, and he went with the Mayflowers. And then I may have conversely asked which oysters were the most similar to Kumomotos (I don't think there were any west coast oysters on the menu that day). Though my notes were brief, I did write that the Mayflowers were very salty, but with a rather smooth finish. My entire thought on the Beaver Tails was that they were "so so." I think then ordered another half dozen of the Cedar Islands, which were my favorite but god help me I couldn't tell you why.

While I was enjoying my martini and oysters, I also began a rather silly but lengthy conversation with others sitting at the bar. S and D were a couple from Pittsburgh on their first Rehoboth vacation, and J was a hot mess from Columbus. To say that our conversation was silly is an understatement. I mean. We talked about things that no group of strangers should really be talking about when the sun is still in the sky. In other words, we talked about sex. Hilarious sex. Inappropriate sex. At one point J. asked me to be his fag hag, I demurely turned him down. J. was, shall we say, talkative. I'd like to share some of the bigger gems from our conversation, but it might be unseemly/certainly not for a PG-13 audience. Seriously though, the conversation was so raunchy that even the bartender seemed taken aback (I'm pretty sure I saw him shaking his head in disbelief at one moment iwhen oral sex was the topic). Though it was quite a good time, I eventually gathered myself together and met up with BC in order to get back to the true purpose of the weekend: celebrating LB's dwindling days of being a singleton. But not before I took this photograph to commemorate the strange momentary clique I joined one late afternoon in Rehoboth.

Fin's, as always, didn't disappoint.

Soup and Scallops c/o Black Bass Hotel

The Sunday of my dog watching weekend was a quiet one. I cleaned up the house a bit, watched some Vampire Diaries and putzed. M. and A. came back in the late afternoon and we hung out for a bit. It was A.'s birthday so we went out to celebrate it. They also wanted to thank me for hanging out with the dogs, which was unnecessary as hanging out with two dogs in the country isn't really something I consider a burden. In any case, M. suggested the Black Bass Hotel because she had always been curious about it. We took a twisty, turny Bucks County drive to get to the establishment, which is right along the Delaware River. It's one of those set ups where the main building is on one side of a narrow road and then parking and perhaps additional rooms are across the street. A very river-country set up. We were seated in the main dining room, which had what I'm sure was quite a spectacular view of the river. It was dark, so it was hard to get the full effect, but the light reflecting on the dark water below was pretty neat. M. and I had cocktails to start, I went with a dirty martini. M. was a bit more adventurous and went with the 'Basstini," which was Earl Grey tea infused Beefeater Gin, simple syrup and lemon juice. I actually thought it had a few other things in it, but that's what the menu says so...Her cocktail was a real surprise. Definitely had Earl Grey and citrus notes. Different, but successful. She and I also decided to try the crab chowder. The menu described it as spicy, but I don't think that was really true of this bowl. I guess my own preference for cream-based chowders made this a bit of a let-down. I didn't ask the question, made the assumption, etc. Still good, but not magical.
For my main course I was drawn to the Seared Sea Scallops with House-Cured Pork Belly with caramelized fennel, potato pave and brandied apricot glaze.
I had no idea what potato pave was, and when I first saw my plate, I thought that the potato pave was actually some extremely fatty form of pork belly. Once I established that wasn't the case, the dish made a little more sense. I would actually preferred more pork over the potato portion. The scallops were nicely seared but still tender. The sauce was interesting.
M. went with the mushroom risotto appetizer as her main course, while A. went with the Coffee Lacquered Duck served with pear ginger chutney and coffee sauce. I think I tried a bite and liked it, but that somehow there was a slight disconnect between what I expected from the menu's description and the actual taste profile of the 'lacquer.' I think that A. felt similarly, but I could be remembering incorrectly.
This was a lovely meal, and I enjoyed having a nice dinner with M. and A. The issue with the establishment itself, I think, was that the prices for the food are definitely a bit high for what you actually get. It's not bad food, but it's not transcendent either. And for $28 (the price of the scallops), I hope for a really special experience - even if I'm not actually footing the bill. Our server was friendly and nice on the whole, though at some point in the meal she became perhaps a little too familiar for the environment. In a diner or greasy spoon I think waitresses can call you honey or sweetie with impunity, but in what is selling itself as a 'fine dining' establishment, calling first time guests by this kind of endearment strikes me as a bit odd. But, again, it was a lovely night and I thank M. and A. for their company and for the meal!

Restaurant Week at Union Trust

The last two weeks have been Philadelphia's Center City Restaurant Week. In the past I've simply avoided having anything to do with this, as I was under the impression that it's ridiculously crowded, restaurant chefs and servers resent it, and I like being able to choose from a whole menu. But I think I may have been missing out a little. The basic gist is that you can go to a number of restaurants in Center City, and have a three course meal for $32. This includes quite high-end fancy establishments, like Le Bec Fin and a host of other places where usually you'd have to drop more than $30 for a glass of wine and an appetizer. So when A.S. texted me to gauge my interest in taking advantage of restaurant week, I was suddenly motivated. I took time looking over the different restaurants' offerings an eventually suggested we go to Union Trust. I wore a fancy dress and high heeled shoes, because this is a steakhouse with a capital S. Well, not really. More of a capital U and T. Let's move on. While we were on time for our reservation, there was a slight delay for a table, so we enjoyed dirty martinis at the bar. Dirty.
When we were seated - about 15 or 20 minutes later - we were given a pretty sweet spot. It was strange that it seemed like there were plenty of two tops available (so why the wait) but we got a corner booth, all velvety and burgundy, that gave us a great view of the space and other patrons while giving us some privacy. Not that we needed privacy, but it was nice to have our backs to the wall and some breathing room between us and any other guest. I should have taken more photographs of what it looked like inside, but I didn't want to be gauche. It's one thing to take photos of food, it's another to start wandering around a restaurant taking photographs of its ceiling. The choices for the first course included jumbo shrimp cocktail, beef carpaccio and a wedge salad. We both went for the shrimp. They were jumbo and delicious. I imagined that they would be served in fancy martini glass, and maybe for a regular diner they are. While presentation was a little lacking, degustation was on the mark. Did I just make up a word?

I ordered one glass of Benegas Malbec to accompany the meal, which at $13 was on the cheaper end of their 'wines by the glass' selection.
Haricots Verts and Creamed Corn came with our meals, A.S. was enamored with the beans, which I enjoyed as well ... but not much as the creamy corn.
We both ordered the filet mignon with espresso rub and truffle butter. Our collective reasoning being: why order chicken or fish at a steakhouse? I ordered mine medium rare and AS ordered hers medium and, as it should have been, we could actually tell the difference between the two. Mmm. Meat. I enjoyed it thoroughly, though I didn't actually need the espresso rub element, and might have enjoyed another sauce or addition instead.
We didn't feel rushed nor looked down upon by our servers, even though we all knew that they wouldn't be getting the same sort of super bill/tip that the place usually demands. And I appreciated that. Here is the display in their foyer.
So my first restaurant week experience was a success. We had desserts as well, but the photos were not really worth the effort of photoshopping - and neither dish was amazing really. After dinner I accompanied A.S. as she unlocked her bike then made my way to the bus stop just in time to see my bus start pulling away. So I, in my high wedges and dress made a run for it. It seemed like a success when the bus then had to stop at a light ten feet away from the stop itself. But when I knocked on the door the bus driver shook her head and pointed me back to the bus stop. I think that's pretty dumb. I understand if I was three blocks away from the stop and knocked on her door that she might not/could not let me in...but ten feet away from the stop itself? Excuse me while I curse: fuck you lady. I then stood at the bus stop for 20 minutes, losing my food buzz and looking a bit overdressed for public transportation before the next bus arrived.

Cheese, Martini and Dessert c/o McCrossen's

A few days after the Wake and Bake/Whiskey night, I returned to McCrossens and met up with L. She and I are not dating, just so it's clear. Ha. That's what I like to call an inside joke. Except it is also factually accurate and not even thaaaaat funny. The night before the restaurant had had a cheese and wine event, so I asked T. if there were any leftovers on the cheese side of the equation, as I like trying new cheeses. He said that there was, in fact, some cheese left over. I will try to track down its name (update: I could not track down its name). It was a buffalo cheese, kind of brie-y. I would have liked slightly heartier cuts of it, or one chunk to cut as I saw fit, but still, good. The chorizo was good too, though they are a little more liberal with their oil than I might be on my own. Still. Overall message: eat there.
L. had the spaghetti carbonara, which was delicious. So rich and creamy, with a good bacon-y kind of flavor from the meat that technically wasn't bacon. I started with a beer and then went on to a dirty martini.
L. finished her meal off with these sweet puffs of sugary wonder. They, like the fries before them, glowed. I don't know what T. puts into this stuf, but man does it make them shine. Heh.

Dirty Martini and Quesadilla Somewhere in Doylestown

After the aborted kindling repopulation attempt I putzed about for the majority of the day. Mr. Ass and I had loose plans to watch the new Harry Potter movie at some point, so I ended up cozying up on a sofa and watching the first half of the first movie before taking a delightfully restorative accidental nap. Actually, it wasn't that restorative, as I woke up and remained sleepy for the remainder of the day. But the actual drifting off with the Hogwarts gang in the background really was pleasing to me. Anyways. I met up with Mr. Ass in the evening but L., the third of our movie going team, couldn't make the originally scheduled show so we had a bit of time to kill before we needed to be at the theater. So we went to a place, the name of which I cannot tell you. Their happy hour deal was still going on, so I ordered a dirty martini.
And chicken quesadilla. The quesadilla element wasn't all that special, but I liked the tomato garnish.
I liked the new Harry Potter movie well enough, though I hadn't envisioned Luna Lovegood's father looking like that, wished that Viktor Krum had, indeed, been at the wedding and generally wished that many of the book's details were in the movie (regardless of the fact that then the movie would be six hours long). Mr. Ass and L. were entirely unimpressed, but it turns out neither of them really care about Harry Potter so I can see how it wouldn't be all that compelling. The Harry Potter series is my media equivalent of comfort food and as such I can consume the books or movies over and over and over again, regardless of poor acting, needless exposition or my complete knowledge of what's going to happen next. And the nice thing about Potter is I can take in as much as I like without gaining a pound. What?

Dinner c/o the Continental Grille

My cousin H. and his wife C. came into Nashville one evening. They went to see some glass and had plans to see a show in the evening. They were staying in the swank Hermitage Hotel and suggested that my father and I meet up with them for dinner at the Continental Grille. We were an astounding thirty minutes late for that as a result of my leaving the hospital a little late, and Dad not actually knowing where we were going, and neither of us having H.'s cell number. We worked it out eventually. C. had ordered the smoked trout appetizer while they waited for us, and I had a taste of it, which was good. I decided to have a martini; I asked for it dirty and with three olives, and it came exactly as I liked. Later on, when I took a look at their wine/cocktail menu I saw they had a $25 martini featuring Jean Marc XO Vodka Martini and blue cheese and truffle oil stuffed olives. One day I will be the sort of person to drop cash like it's nothing and try such a cocktail out (maybe) but, even on someone else's tab, that day has yet to come.
I tried their sweet onion bisque with chives, bacon and brie 'sandwich.' It was sweet but the bacon and freshly ground pepper balanced it out nicely.
With our meals we drank Sancerre.
Dad and I each ordered the scallops, which were served without any sides or garnishes, so he tried their vegetable of the day: cauliflower. Now, hmmm, look at that, sure does look like broccoli don't it? There was some confusion and doubt as to whether these alleged cauliflower were, in fact, cauliflower and that was never quite put to rest as far as I'm concerned.
The scallops were marvelously cooked and a bit more generous in portion than I had expected. Served in a cast iron skillet type thing with a nice helping of butter, they were tender and just yummy. Real good.
I went with the truffle mac n' cheese as my side, as much as I didn't really need it. It, too, was quite to my liking.
C. ordered the venison, which she offered me to taste...and that was pretty good too, rare but not gamey. I think my cousin had fish, but I don't know if I tried his food. I don't think so. The graphics for the menu online really are at odds with the dining room ambience and overall chi-chi-ness of the joint. Our waiter was pretty funny and knowledgeable, though one of his helpers seemed pretty uninformed, which was surprising; usually a restaurant of this price bracket makes it a necessity that even the busboys can answer questions about the menu. A great meal.

Oysters with C. and T. c/o Sansom Street Oyster House

The Friday before last C. was back in Philly to help her father with a project he's doing for U Penn's new music building. We made plans to meet up at Sansom Street Oyster House after they completed their work for the day, and I completed mine. Turns out that they were done a bit before I was, but held off from noshing or martini-ing (anything can be a verb!) until I arrived about half an hour later, for which I am grateful. I ordered, as I usually do, a dirty martini, which was refreshing and delicious (though I did have to ask for it to be dirtier...a running theme for me). We each ordered a dozen of the 'buck a shucks,' which were of the Great Bay variety if I recall correctly. We sat at one of the corners of the oyster bar, which gave me good enough light for photographs, and all of us a great view of the shuckers and myriad couples making out all around us. Truth: there were at least three couples at various points of the bar/evening that were really taking 'public displays of affection' quite seriously. I'm not sure I've seen such grabby, kissy nonsense since high school.

At one point, one of the women involved in the serious canoodling fell out of her chair. C.'s dad had a better view of this and said that the dude part of the couple just sort of sat there and looked at his date on the floor. Then he drew this picture (her dad, not the dude).
Then I thought it might be nice to get a photograph of C. and myself, but it didn't entirely work out. Here are the two, out of a series of many, that are the best.

It was a lovely evening. It was the second time, technically speaking, that I had met C.'s father, the first of which being the afternoon of our college graduation...but that was, I'm pretty sure, for about half of a split second in between meeting so many of my friends' parents and family members that it hardly even counts. All to say that it was quite nice to get a better sense of this father figure of C.'s, of whom I have heard so much throughout the years. Two martinis, a dozen oysters, and one beer later and I was back home by 9 pm. Thanks to both for the lovely company and evening (not to mention the oysters and booze:)