A Philadelphia Night Out

When we went to Han Dynasty for my birthday, CPM and I both were quite taken with the idea of getting a punch bowl for the table, and were rather surprised by the lack of recommendation our server gave us on that front...basically they told us not to do it, so we didn't. But the idea of drinking some kind of alcoholic beverage out of a punch bowl was not to float away on the river of our lives like a loose stick from a low hanging tree. Nope. CPM and I made an alternative plan. I knew that the scorpion bowl at Sampan was pretty delightful and so I suggested we go there, which is just what we did. We originally thought we'd just wing it and sit at the bar, but mid-day Friday we corresponded and decided that a reservation was probably not the worst idea...which was entirely true, as the bar was pretty solidly packed when we got there around 7:30. We were seated and quite enjoyed perusing the menu. Though I've been to Sampan a few times, it had been quite a bit of time, so many of the things of the menu appealed. In the end CPM and I chose a nice array of plates to share. For example, these 'wonton crab tacos,' which came with avocado, cilantro and pickled shallot. The crab salad element was good in portion size and delicious.

We also ordered the hamachi ceviche, which really is just a really delightful spoonful of magic. The dish usually comes three spoons to a plate, but the server suggested we add a fourth so there would be no bloodshed. A good call indeed.

These were Korean fried chicken skewers. Succulent. Hot. So GOOD.

We also ordered the "Philly Cheese Steak," which you can see in the far left corner...honestly this was the dish that was the least successful or pleasing. I'd give it a pass.

Our server did at first suggest that we didn't need a punch bowl in our lives...but after much deliberation, we chose to have one anyway.

Kobe beef skewers were unbelievably tender and while they had a bit of sauce/external flavor, the meat itself was pretty well and good magic on its own.

Do not doubt us, Sampan server, we will order and finish a punch bowl. Don't you worry about us none.

After that it was still relatively early in the evening, so we walked west in Center City. I was quite shocked to see that a.bar, which I tried to go to with Huckleberry back in the summer, was pretty much entirely empty. So we went on in there and enjoyed two delightful cocktails that will go unnamed because I can't seem to find the drink menu on the establishment's website. They also had a pretty neat-o looking oyster bar option. While we only had a drink, I would definitely suggest to those staying in the Philly area that they check this place out far more than I'll be able to do in my dwindling days in the city.

We then made a few more stops in our night, including a cocktail at Tank Bar and getting to McCrossen's just in time to see the Eagles not quite make it through the playoffs. A lovely evening with a fun friend. I liked that we balanced our evening so that we stopped in at a variety of locations, some more familiar than others. The night was, of course, a late one. And I could never do that sort of thing with any true frequency, but such evenings always remind me of just how much of Philadelphia is still a mystery to me, even after six years.

Lamb Tacos

We had a properly late dinner as a result of our delicious afternoon cheese plate and the fact that it takes a more than a minute to put together taco fixin's from scratch (or at least mostly from scratch). The meat portion of the tacos was predominantly lamb with a little bit of beef thrown in for good measure. I must admit that while I did add a little salt into the meat, most of the flavor work was done by Rick Bayless's chipotle lime skillet packet.  I was also unable to find already ripe avocados, so I bought the grocery store's relatively fresh guacamole instead.

The pico de gallo, however, was entirely of my own making. I seeded the tomatoes and chopped them. Then chopped red onion and cilantro to add into the mix before adding lime juice, a smidge of olive oil and a tad pinch of salt. Let that marinate for a minute and you get magic man. Magic, man.

I also cooked rice and heated up some black beans.

Oh yes and also some fajita like peppers and onions for good measure.

I'd say a pretty satisfying eating experience. The leftovers of which made quite a number of additional meals for me in the days that would follow.

Oysters, Fish Tacos and Fire in Rehoboth and Cape Henlopen Delaware

Happy hour at Fin's is a bit of a competitive sport, or at least that has been the case in my own life. I learned that it's no joke. Folks stake out spots outside a good 15 minutes in advance of the doors opening in order to ensure a spot at the bar. If you're not prompt (or early) the likelihood of your being able to get a seat is low. So the Wednesday for which there is no proof, I made a concerted effort to get there early and still had to deal with a pack of territorial 50-somethings who did not want to be my friend, which was fine because I overheard their conversation and they were boring. In any case, what I didn't realize about Fin's Friday happy hour is that it starts at some other time than 4 PM. So when I rolled up at 3:30 thinking I was totally on target, I found myself to be gravely mistaken; the bar was totally packed and there was no chance I was going to get a prime spot. This meant I was relinquished to the rather awkward second tier, standing bar shelf. Daunted but not doomed, I ordered a beer and a dozen of the happy hour oysters. Happy making they were, though I have to say that none of the two dozen oysters I consumed on this trip left me feeling as satiated or pleased as oysters usually do. I don't think that's the fault of Fin's, just perhaps a reflection of some thing or another in my own universe.

I also decided to try the happy hour fish tacos, as I had noted a few 50-somethings ordering them the last time and they seemed to be very generous in their portions for what was quite a reasonable price. This was a smooth move on my part. The fried white fish (no idea what variety to be honest) was crispy on the outside but moist and flaky on the inside. And the drizzle of sauce and mango-ish (maybe pineapple?) salsa that came with the plate were both right up my alley as well. Good times. I probably would have stayed longer and tried some other dish if it hadn't been for the awkward seating. Next year.

Then I returned back to my campsite. I have a whole rant about a lady who was rude to me/extremely incorrect in her campsite neighborly conduct, but the truth is that if I recounted the story, you probably wouldn't really care and I'd probably somehow turn out to be the asshole. But honestly, I was not the asshole, she was and we should all be thankful I did not write a mean note and leave it on her car's windshield. Instead I enjoyed an evening reading and stoking an unnecessary fire. God I love fire. I bought two bundles and started it before it was even close to being dark, which necessitated a run to the campground firewood shed to buy another bundle. Because I am addicted to flame y'all. Addicted to flame.

I really do love this campground. It's not really remote and some sites are far less awesome than others. This year was not an awesome year. Pretty much any year when I don't get a site around the edges of the grounds ends with too much proximity and not any privacy. It's interesting to me how we all willfully ignore one another, though we can clearly hear most all conversations. For example, I was entirely fascinated by all the activity going on at a site across the way from me where there seemed to be at least three or four young Mennonite couples and a whole slew of kids. Listening to them speak in Low German and laugh and chat while wearing basketball shorts and knock off Raybans was confusing. I had all these questions. Do they use bug spray? Do they use band aids? Are they actually permitted to wear basketball shorts and knock off Raybans? Why do they try to run me off the sidewalk that leads to the beach when I am walking and they are riding bikes? And why don't they apologize when they do so? Are they having sex in those tents? Do they hate their hair cuts? What did they think of the Tom Petty songs I was playing from my car? You know, just questions. Questions to which I will never have the answers because after the bike/running off the road episode, I no longer thought they were friendly Godly types and began to think they were wrathful Godly types. I could, of course, be mistaken on that score. The point is that it's always such an interesting cross-section of folks. Big family groups all speaking a language other than English. Older couples in their souped up RVs. Younger couples and their intense border collies. Extremely weird solo men trying to blow up their air mattresses using said motorcycles way after 'quiet hours' who then turn down the offer of air mattress pumps from granola-esque fathers or wayward kids acting on behalf of their parents. You know, just a funny mix of folks. All enjoying the semi-real experience of outdoor living, only with nearby bathrooms and neighbors probably even closer to them than in their everyday life. It's a mini-city and I like it. I keep hoping I'll somehow stumble across a dude who digs it too and comes on his own or with friends...but usually it's just foreign families, old people and creeps trying to fill their air mattress using a motorcycle. But I love it. These days I go back and forth about whether having kids is as much of a priority for me as it was when I was younger. This may be due to any number of factors, but I do still sometimes envision a life where I do get the opportunity to teach a youngster of my own the glories of setting up and sleeping in a tent, of building a fire, of diving under waves to get to the calmer part of the ocean, of the sheer loveliness of a perfect oyster with just a spritz of lemon. Meh, if I don't have my own I'll just steal the children of my friends for a weekend. At least one of the legion of children that will burst forth from the loins of my collective network would be down. One would assume.

Dinners In The Outer Banks

Months and months ago a plan was created between a cabal of individuals. This plan involved much planning, consideration, exchange of money and hours in a car. The end result was a week in a beach house in Corolla Beach in the Outer Banks of North Carolina. The cabal of folks responsible for this turn of events included my cousin K. and a number of other family members. I drove down from Philly on Sunday. It's really not a bad drive and I go down through Delaware, which is such a strange state in a way. Or at least along the portions of Route 1 and 13 that I've experienced. Delaware may be slightly underrated. There is a lot of nice country out there, and the beach is never too far away. In any case, I made good time on my drive and arrived in North Carolina in the late afternoon. I got in the pool for a bit and then it was time for dinner. On this particular night my cousins K. and M. and my cuz K.'s fiancee A. wrangled some less-than-optimal camp-style grills into cooking a bunch of chicken and tilapia. It was not an easy undertaking in terms of the quantity of meat to be grilled and the quality of the grills in question, but they persevered and the results were delicious. Add roasted broccoli, cornbread and a bit of collard greens and you've got yourself a meal. Or, rather, I had myself a meal.

The next day I think I was totally lame (in some people's opinion) and didn't go to the beach for much of the day. Instead I took up residence in one of the beach house's porches. Specifically in the hammock on the second floor porch, which had a view towards the sea (though we were about three house rows back from the ocean itself). And then, when I did go to the beach late in the afternoon I was too busy lying down and going in the water and reading to bother taking out my camera and recording any photographs. But the day ended with grilled barbeque pork chops (this time on the newly arrived gas grill) along with salad and roasted potatoes.

The croutons are the buttered French rounds I enjoyed in the country.

Oh and there were peppers in the tomatoes as well.

And then another afternoon Dad and I went to a fish market to inquire about soft shell crabs (none fresh) and ended up buying a pound of shrimp, most of which I consumed for lunch.

Then there was quality time around the pool with many a balloon made and exploded.

I brought some of the coconut rum I brought back with me from the Bahamas and we made all the children their first alcoholic beverage! Just joking! The kids got virgin pina coladas while those of us over 21 had the real deal. Sweet but tasty in moderation.

And then another day featured grilled asparagus. Cuz K. and A. held down that grill.

And while they were grilling and my aunt L. and cousin M. and so many others were preparing the rest of the meal, K. and I went to the turret/bird's nest of the house at his insistence, which I was happy to do both just to enjoy the view and also to make sure he didn't fall over a railing. It was way high up. While we were 20 people consisting of 8 kids and 12 adults but a house next to us and another just across the street seemed to be totally comprised of tan college kids, some of whom jumped off a similar height into a pool. Apparently no one died but those kids did seem to be forced to leave much sooner than they wanted to...for hours they were sitting on the bumpers a wide variety of cars with their bags backed, waiting for rides away from the beach. Let that be a lesson to everyone: you jump from a deathly height into a pool, you will be kicked out of the beach house.

That's a ways down. I think the dudes across the way didn't jump from quite this high.

Inside two sisters took over Cuz K.

And then we ate grilled asparagus and tacos...or in my case a burrito.

Shishito Peppers and Fish Tacos c/o McCrossen's

LW went on a little European journey a few weeks back and when she returned we met at McCrossen's to catch up. I was excited about the shishito pepper special appetizer and secured the last one of the evening. Nice and good peppers. I need to buy myself some and do my own grilling while they're still around. I also ordered the fish tacos with extra kimchi. They were very generous in their overall portions, challenging me to pick them up without dropping any of the tender morsels of fish or bright and peppy slaw/cabbage that also went into the overall dish.

It was good to see LW and to hear about her adventures. And it had been a fair amount of time since I'd been at McCrossen's, so that was nice too.

Cheese and Tacos in the Country

The next day I did some work, and I'm not sure what M. did. Then I locked my laundry in the laundry room and we spent a number of hours trying to figure out how to unlock the door. This included M. getting a ladder, my trying to open the door with a card much in the same way, our trying a variety of old fashioned skeleton keys, and M.'s mother eventually suggesting that A. break down the door. So the day had some highs and lows. Perhaps the highest of the locked laundry room saga was when A. managed to open the door without breaking it down; that was pretty great. I brought a few cheeses up to enjoy before Saturday's diner, which included a black and blue blue cheese, an aged manchego and a goat camembert.

I made us taco dinner that night, which involved a lamb/beef meat mixture, homemade guacamole and pico de gallo, black beans with peppers, and rice. I also made a shrimp option in a green/tomatillo sauce, but its photographic qualities were found lacking.

After dinner we played a rousing and challenging game of Catan. I ultimately won, but it was touch and go.

Micheladas and Tacos c/o La Calaca Feliz

In early 2013 I met up with CPM. She was on break from the grueling school/commute schedule that has caused a sincere lack of CPM or pizza/puppy/wine nights and it seemed right to meet up, have a few drinks, and generally fill each other in on the goings on in our respective lives. We had this meeting of the minds at La Calaca Feliz. I ordered a michelada and I believe CPM did the same.

We also each ordered snacks. I chose to try the special bass tacos of the evening, which were quite tasty...though I'm not a huge fan of the pureed squash element that graced this dish, which shared a flavor profile with the gordita I enjoyed back in June. I think CPM had the carnitas tacos and seemed quite pleased. My favorite part of my plate was definitely the perfectly cooked and seasoned morsels of fish.

Tomatoes and Tacos

On Sunday evening Mr. Ass and JB stopped by. This was unexpected. I often invite folks to come to the country, but it doesn't always end with them, well, actually coming. So I was quite pleased. I hadn't seen JB since Mr. Ass' big Saturnalia gathering my first year in town. I told Mr. Ass I could feed them tacos and that I had mozzarella if they had tomatoes or basil. Which, due to the splendor of his garden, he did. And behold, a nice plate of fresh tomato, basil and mozarella with a drizzle of decent olive oil and Balsamic vinegar. We sat outside and talked the talk and drank prosecco or beer. It was very nice.JB and I recollected our shared time in France for an exchange during high school, which included fond memories of emotionally disturbed children and failed attempts to drink in Paris without getting caught.

Then I heated up taco fixins and insisted on taking photographs that proved that I saw both of them. Proof!

Buying Locally, Walking Locally, Eating Tacos

I made a run into town to pick up some eating supplies for dinner on Saturday night, and for the rest of the weekend. But I held off on a few things because I knew I could buy them local at The Little Farm Store. Shout out to them! They have great eggs at certain times of the year (not now), as well as locally fed and raised beef in steak and ground form, not to mention cheese, ice cream and a few other tasty things. On my trip I picked up a pound of ground beer as well as half a gallon of raw milk. Such a beautiful day to drive around an area that is still more field and farm than subdivision and McMansion.

Once I got back to the house I took myself on a woods and stream walk. I carried a big stick, don't worry. No spiders offended this face. Props, also, to lending me her sunglasses for the last month. They were lovely.

Boots, creeks, boots, creeks.

And for dinner I made S. and myself lamb/beef tacos. I also made pico de gallo and guacamole. Additionally, I broke a blender. Dinner also included gazpacho that I made, which was quite delightful...but it just didn't photograph well on this particular evening.

Fish Tacos c/o The Purple Parrot

Last weekend I gathered myself together and drove down to Rehoboth Beach, Delaware in order to celebrate the impending nuptials of LB. Because I am who I am, I arrived much earlier than the rest of the bachelorette folks. This allowed me to suss out the parking situation, pre-order pizza for the evening's festivities, and generally take a moment. This moment also resulted in my going to the Purple Parrot for a late lunch. I'd never heard of this place nor gone to it in any of my other trips to the area, but it was right next to our apartment and had a festive atmosphere even from the sidewalk. So I went with it. At around 3 in the afternoon I was one of only a handful of folks sitting and eating and drinking, so service was pretty good...and came in the form of a 20 year old dude not wearing a shirt. I ordered a happy hour margarita and the fish tacos, which I had thought was a happy hour special but turned out not to be. Not complaining though. I was hungry and the mix of cabbage crunch and hot fried fish was fantastic.

I also really enjoyed the living roof thing they had going on, as well as the music playing.

A nice way to ease into what would be a very fun and late-night filled weekend.

Hawks and Tacos

The weekend following my time in New York found me in Bucks County. I left after work and made my way through gnarled traffic and misty rain, which was not so pretty in Philly or on the highway, but substantially more picturesque when driving down country roads and passing hovering misty fields and the like. By the next day the misty/rain was but a memory. I spend the majority of that day  enjoying a quiet weekend alone with plenty of sun, a very loud hawk that kept on flying around and shrieking and reading the fifth book of Game of Thrones. My day was occasionally punctuated by a quick woods walk, or bite of cheese. And at some point I went to a farmer's market.

In the evening I created myself some lamb/beef tacos and enjoyed them very much.

Happy Hour and Dinner c/o Square Peg

At some point in the last few months I became aware of a new restaurant in Philly: Square Peg. I took a look at the menu and saw a few different things I found compelling. I was even more interested when I realized the executive chef was the same as the defunct Adsum, as I had enjoyed the fried chicken brunch very much last year. So I suggested to some folks that we check it out. BC and AS were down, so a reservation was made. Now on the actual day in question I got antsy. The reservation was at 6:30, but I had gotten out of work early and was ready for a drink and conversation. So I texted the ladies and suggested a slightly earlier meet-up at the bar to try out their happy hour deals. AS and I met up first. I ordered one of the drink specials, the John Daly: Rasperry Iced Tea, Lemon, Bourbon and Torn Mint. I can't say that I loved it. It was just a little too sweet for me. AS was similarly ambivalent about the Midtown Collins that she tried. We were far less ambivalent and far more enthusiastic about the deviled egg sampler that was also a happy hour special. I was particularly taken with the caviar version and would, if I were to return, inquire into having a plate of just that variety. After our first round of cocktails we switched to the happy hour white wine, which was far more to our taste. Then BC arrived and we chatted a bit more before settling our tabs and moving upstairs for dinner. The restaurant's space is interesting, lots of wood and light. A little cacophonous as far as acoustics, but not overwhelmingly so.

So then we had to get down to the decisions of the main meal. I expressed interest in the fried chicken tacos, the fried chicken entree and the meatball sub. In the end BC also had some interest in the tacos, so we ordered them as an appetizer. And they were the biggest hit of the night. The chicken morsels were tender and moist, but also crispy and had a nice sauce going on.

AS chose the poutine after checking that it did, in fact, have cheese curds. It was, as poutine often is, not the most attractive of dishes but not unsavory or untasty.

BC ordered the Mini Mayflower sandwich, which was actually three slider-sized sandwiches with roast turkey, sweet potato/marshmellow, stuffing, cranberry sauce served with a side of gravy.

For my main meal I went with the meatball sub. I was initially drawn to the idea of goat cheese, which was listed as an ingredient on the menu, but the server said that had been replaced with ricotta. I went ahead nonetheless. The meatballs were good, the sauce nice if not particularly memorable. I liked the inclusion of arugula to give it a little bite, but I would have thought that goat cheese would have been a better final note instead of the rather bland ricotta that stuck to the bun more than the balls.

It was a lovely meal with great ladies. While we didn't have any major gripes, we all felt like the prices were just a little too high for the actual food. My recommendation would be to come for happy hour and tacos but perhaps skip a whole meal. That said, I'd still be interested in trying the fried chicken and the idea of a cheese steak pot pie is also quite intriguing.