Beach Walk

The weather during my time in Florida was not quite as warm as I would have liked, but it was certainly warmer than Philadelphia. My first full day I got up and took a walk along the beach.
Shelling was okay, but not amazing. People were allowed to drive on the beach, which seemed sort of odd.
Shellies!

Jacksonville Airport: Not Open Late

After my chicken lunch, I went to my gate and waited around forever...then a little longer because our plane was late, then a little longer because the plane had to be cleaned, then we got on the plane. Once on the plane we had the opportunity to wait a little more, because we were very far back in the line of planes needing to take off. Our original arrival time to Jacksonville was 8:00. I think we actually arrived closer to 9:30. Could have been worse, but it was already pretty bad. That said, the airport had some nice art installations in its baggage claim area. This thingadoo was made entirely of stamps! Stamps, I tell you, stamps!
It seemed like the entire airport was waiting for our flight. No restaurants were open, kiosks all seemed to be abandoned. It was a little strange. But warm.

Philly Airport Food

The day after my sandwich lunch and Japanese dinner, I took a day off from work, went to the doctor, sat in the sun (it was 63 degrees), walked to 30th Street Train Station and took a train to the airport. Once at the airport I did as many have done before me, I checked in (refusing to check luggage due to the ridiculous $15 fee I would have to pay) went through security and found myself trying to decide between a myriad of crappy food options. Of course, I could have been smarter and brought a little snack for myself...but those of us who do not think eating fast food all the time is a good idea are not without our cravings. The whole 'I only eat [fill in the name] on long car trips or in airports' philosophy is one I have subscribed to, on occasion. One occasion, of course, being that day. I ordered the Chick-Fil-A nuggets meal, with sweet tea and disappointing waffle fries. Well, it was all disappointing. But that was sort of the point?

Urgency

Okay. So I don't really understand what's at stake, except that J. would like to win....and he's good people...so my readership (all 2 to 50+ of you...it seems I have 29 googlereaders) should go here: once there you should vote for the only dude whose name starts with J. He's a music lover, people, and he needs to get out of the gay circulation market? Again, I don't exactly understand what's going on, but good people=you do what you can, right?

Dinner c/o Umai Umai and B.'s Father

Last Tuesday was a good eating day. First, there was the Primo sandwich and then: a dinner at Umai Umai. Umai Umai is in the Art Museum neighborhood, which is my neighborhood, and I pass it a fair amount on my constitutionals around the 'hood. Every single person to whom I have spoken about the restaurant raves about it...and yet I never quite got myself inside its walls. When B. mentioned that her father was taking her there I was appropriately jealous. My passion led B. to extend an invitation to join them. After suggesting that she clear this hypothetical invitation with her father--and his being amenable--I did end up going to dinner with B., her father and M. I started with an oyster shooter: a narrow shot glass with ceviche soy and sea urchin into which I gently slipped the kumomoto oyster, quail egg, and salmon roe. I cannot tell a lie: it was not as amazing as I had expected. The soy ceviche liquid was so salty that the taste of the oyster and interspecies eggs were completely overwhelmed. But it sure was pretty and the Japanese berry as palate cleanser was quite interesting.
I also ordered the 'Traffic Light' roll: tempura battered soft shell crab with spicy aioli, topped with citrus, wasabi and regular tobikkos. Quite pretty, and very well done...but not as good as B.'s choice of roll (something like Pingu?). B.'s father also ordered sashimi to share, which was quite generous and smooth.
If I were to go back, which believe me I will, I would go further in my exploration of their straight up sashimi, and perhaps another specialty roll (though at $16 a pop they're quite pricey). Thank you to B. and B.'s father for the lovely evening and initial Umai Umai experience!

Brilliance

This is a penguilican. I saw many of them during my brief Florida respite last week. L. was kind enough to provide this wonderful illustration.

Primo Hoagie, Take Two: Crazy For You, But Not That Crazy

Last Tuesday was my Friday--and by this I mean that I took the rest of the week off. Last Tuesday also was the day that M. kindly volunteered to drive and pick up Primo hoagies for everyone. As you may know, if you're a regular reader, the last Primo hoagie/sandwich I consumed was so awesome it made my 'best of 2008' post. I have to admit that this version of the same basic sandwich (I forgot to order it with tomato but the remaining ingredients were the same) would probably not make this year's list. It was an above average sandwich/hoagie, no doubt, but there was too much meat. This led to a disproportionate flavor combination and difficulty shoving the thing in my mouth (yes, yes, that's what she said). There is talk from the big gloved camp that tomorrow will bring another opportunity for a sandwich from the establishment, perhaps I will branch out and try something other than the Sicilian. You'll just have to wait...with bated breath, I'm sure.
The dragon was also not entirely convinced of this sandwich's merits.

Another Pho Round

On Sunday B., N. and I reconvened for lunch at Pho Ha. N. thought he had experienced the gustatory pleasures of the Vietnamese beef broth and noodle mother load, but once in the restaurant, he found that this was untrue. B., a vegetarian, has yet to experience the full beef glory...but did get a pretty good idea with the vegetarian version of the dish.

I asked for mine with fatty flank, less noodles and more fatty broth. To be honest, I don't think my noodle proportion was any smaller or my broth any fattier, but it was still very, very good.
While I remain stalwart in my support of this pho joint, now I'm beginning to wonder what its competitors can offer. An even fattier broth, perhaps? A parking lot that doesn't lead to higher level of stress, maybe (that, actually, is probably impossible).

Art And A Haircut, Two Bits

On Friday B., N. and I went to A.'s opening. A slew of high school faces, some expected, some less so, passed before my eyes. This included the school's librarian who, miraculously, seemed to remember my name and person (impressive since I do not remember myself being overly chummy with any of the library staff). After viewing the art (which inspired in me a desire for large amounts of disposable income with which to buy paintings) we had dinner and drinks at nearby Sassafras, I ordered the Verenike (Mongolian dumplings) and a dirty vodka martini. B., a vegetarian, had the portabello burger while N., not a vegetarian, had the regular burger and a dirty gin martini. The first attempt at our martinis were not dirty in the least, so we requested a change...seems that the waiter, who I found to be almost too apologetic, forgot to ask for the drinks to be properly anointed with briny olive juice. Upon correction, they certainly had a whiff of that component but, for $9.50, I was disappointed. N., at first, seemed pleased with his drink but seemed to change his mind once the price came into the picture. My dumplings' innards, a combination of veal, pork and perhaps a third meat, were a step up from the sort of quality you might get in a Chinese restaurant and were served with a overly salty soy sauce and sour cream (strange pairing, methinks). I think I would have been happier had I chosen a different meal. B. seemed pleased with her burger and N. (who I had foreseen ordering the wings but didn't) said that he should have ordered the wings. I agree, as an order came out to a nearby table and they smelled and looked quite scrumptious. The low lighting of the establishment make taking good pictures even more of a challenge than normal (this is with the getting-less-magical-by-the-second mini-tripod) and, again, I must refrain from posting any evidence that this meal, or evening in general, took place.
Our night continued and a good time was had by all. Then, on Saturday I got a haircut care of the Beehive. This photograph doesn't do it justice, I don't think.
Note the plaintive expression I am presenting the camera. I am thinking something like: 'why does this camera make my haircut look less exciting than it actually is/perhaps I should have been born an idiot'.

Graduation at St. Stephen's Green

On Thursday I went to St. Stephen's Green to meet up with C., M. and L. C., after a few more years than some, received her B.A. earlier that day and so this was a celebratory occasion. There was food (the calamari was suprisingly tender and fried with a light touch, the cheesesteak empanadas not quite as good as I remembered them), but the photographic evidence lacks in being pretty. I had a Chimay Red, which was quite good. Then tried a Hirohito beer, which I did not like at all.
There was a bit of a photographic flurry with hoods and whatnot. Oh yes, and Smithwicks beer ladies came around and gave us free samples, necklaces and magnets.
L. looking quite sultry with one of the desserts (I tried neither to comment upon them).



Good times.

What I Do

On Saturday, as I have documented, I roasted a pork shoulder. On Sunday, I did not rest, no, I turned the large amount of left over pork into my version of pulled pork. This version is, of course, not really like you'd get in the south--but it's still awfully tasty...less so after you have to eat it for lunch and/or dinner for a week, but nevermind. Anonymous, you'll happy to know that one day I made myself a pulled pork sandwich for work lunch and the dragon got its 'feed on'. I went over the top and added a little provolone cheese to the mix and toasted the bread before putting the pork on top. It was, how you say, delicious.

Impromptu Dinner c/o Abbaye

On Wednesday I got an unexpected phone call from Mr. Ass, asking me what I was up to for dinner that night. I was not up to anything. So we had dinner at The Abbaye. A., as we drove there, raved about the fish and chips the size of his foot and the great array of beer they offered. I had a Belgian White beer, the exact kind I do not remember.
And a burger with asiago cheese and pico de gallo. It was a very good burger, not stupendous or amazing, but it seemed like they had taken the time to spice the meat up a little and I was willing to believe that they were handmade, not pre-frozen. It was a little messy and too big for my mouth but I managed. The fries were nicely salted aas well, though not my ideal fry.
Mr. Ass was rather disappointed with his fish and chips. His fish was definitely not the size of his foot, thus ruining the possibility of taking a photograph of the comparison. He was also a little put off by the tar tar sauce. He did, however, have a homemade sweater on, so things really balanced out in the end for him.
It was nice to get out and go to a new place, especially unexpectedly so. I think this is an element of life I'd like more of: the 'hey let's go do this thing at a time when you are available to be spontaneous'. Heh.

Walkaroo

I believe it was Saturday or Sunday of last weekend that I took a little walk around my 'hood. Mainly to the art museum and then up to Poplar and around.


This cat made me happy because it refused to do a jig, no matter how much that dude violined.

Pork Shoulder

Last Saturday I was compelled by my own internal pork clock, my clork if you will, to go out in the world and get me a pork shoulder. I ended up going to the Reading Terminal Market for this, since the nearby Whole Foods didn't have any (!). I usually go heavy on the cloves, but I have yet to rebuild my spice array since leaving most all of them behind in Chicago, so I went with a more garlicky version. I also roasted some potatoes with diced Anaheim pepper, half an onion and rosemary.

It was pretty good.

Karaoke c/o McGillins

After dinner we proceeded forward, to McGillins. A slightly different group of us had gone there the week before for some rousing Karaoke shenanigans and the birthday girl wanted to go back and sing Summer of '69. I'm generally not a fan of that song (when I sang, the week before, I chose Weezer's Undone The Sweater Song)
Their rendition, however, was inspired.
Stupid blogger/lazy me. Fail.
This night I also was part of a three person singing group, a trio if you will, that sang an Ace of Base song. I was feeling it.
And the photograph below just makes me smile.
McGillins for a large bar with $5 pitchers of PBR and Karaoke, is not so bad. L. (aka she of a big gloved lifestyle) pointed out that both of our visits to the establishment were made better by finding a table and seats/the table was not in the middle of the room, but around the edges, thus less foot traffic beer spillage.

Lobster Ravioli c/o La Viola

As I mentioned, last Friday my coworker M. turned 23. A little while after work many of us, six to be exact, met up at La Viola for a celebratory birthday dinner. My coworker, and Sewanee connect, C. had been raving about this place since almost the first week of work, yet I never quite managed to get to it. Their menu is medium priced, their space very small. One of my coworkers said that she felt like she was in someone's living room, in a good way. And I know what she meant. There are paintings on the walls, and the lighting is not overly dramatic (see crappy quality of photograph) and one really could imagine that the regular furniture--couches, coffee tables, a bookcase or two, have all been shoved into the hallway to make room for an impromptu dinner party for 50. Quarters are tight. The bathroom is right off the kitchen and dining room and there is nowhere to stand to wait for it without being in the way of at least five people. I amm giving all these details without suggesting that any of them really bothered me. It was part of the place's charm...though the one review I read that said this place would be good for a romantic dinner seemed off (there is no room for a little nook where you and your sweetie can whisper sweet nothings to your salads, entrees and desserts).

I had the lobster ravioli in pink cognac sauce. It was good. The sauce was rich, the ravioli large and the portion just right. I think the main problem I had was that I couldn't actually pick out the flavor of lobster in all of it. I don't doubt that it was there, some where, but what's the point if you can't figure it out?

Was I quite as amazed as I thought I would be? Maybe not. But I did learn that I really don't understand the appeal of gnocchi, that I really want to start eating more veal (yes, yes, terrible person and all that) and the silly little tripod I bought at Rite-Aid really does improve the quality of low-light photographs of food (I did not use it for the photograph above).

Catan Food

Last week M. sent me the links to a whole new level of Catan-crazy. Though I haven't played the game since my time in Indiana, it used to be a pretty major entertainment factor during the days of the ebf and Vassar, and then Chicago and grad school. I still have the games in my closet, just waiting for someone who knows how to play (it's hard to be the only one because as fun as the game is, it takes a fair amount of 'splaining and enthusiasm...and if you're the only one with the knowledge, and you have to teach at least two more people in order to actually play...well they are majority and will probably just hate you, or something).
But look at this! There is a whole world of people out there who like the game! Nay, I think it's safe to say that they love it! I mean, look at those perfectly cut (shit, not hexagons but septagons?)....Amazing. If you live in Philadelphia and are not overly creepy or strange (I am the only person who can judge this, sorry), and already know how to the play the game...um, can we be Catan friends? I have knights and castles and seafarers, if that makes me any cooler?
Oh my god, geek alert.

Birthdays And Boxes

Well, really it was just one birthday, and one box. Friday was M.'s 23rd birthday (oh the youth!). She has this tendency of making really great desserts all the time and I wanted to give her a little something but desserts aren't really my forte. So I made macaroons for the first time (you see, what better way to say you care than to try an entirely new recipe for someone?)...I'm not sure how big a fan I am of macaroons, but I made them.
B. also bought a very, very, very rich chocolate cake, while L. supplied trick candles that wouldn't go out...this is a blurry photograph of M. taking the candles and putting them into her glass of water.
Then there was the box. The office got a new printer thingy, so there was this great box. I have a big gloved person doing things in the box, but you'll have to wait until she puts them on her blog...see post below...then we saw how many people could get into the box....five, with perhaps room for one more skinny minny.

I later got under the box and scuttled. I have heard that this was videotaped but I was under a box, so I can't know for sure. I really channeled my inner-crab, moving sideways as well as backwards forwards. Word (I've started saying word a little too often these days).

Not All I Want

Something to look at, think about, and take away from.

Fresca Garden Pizza c/o Luigi's Pizza Fresca

A pizza on Saturday seemed like a great idea, so I ordered one from Luigi's Pizza Fresca. It was heavy with peppers, tomatoes, mushrooms, broccoli, olives, onions and I'm sure I have forgotten something----oh yes, cheese and tomato sauce. I think I would limit myself to mushrooms and olives, and maybe tomatoes, in the future.