Birthday Week Treats

A week or two back I found myself suddenly and inexplicably turning 31 years old. Well, this actually didn't really come out of nowhere and wouldn't really count as a surprise at all; my birthday, like most, doesn't change. So really that first line was just a total fabrication. I wasn't caught off guard at all. My true birthday day fell on a Monday, and you'll soon see that I chose to better celebrate it with friends that following weekend. But I did feel that some little treat would be nice on the day-of. So I went to two different restaurants' happy hours to enjoy a few oysters (which were not good at all, thus my lack of photograph or expanded discussion of either venue) and other food deals during the 4-6 PM range. After a mixed experience as far as satisfaction was concerned, I went to good ol' McCrossens to meet up with LW for birthday darts and a few rounds of cocktails. This month I'm fat, but next month maybe will be better. We'll see.

I asked B. the bartender to make me something special. The result was some marvelous mix of gin and magic, which I enjoyed thoroughly. I thought better than to ask for another, as that magic was strong in booze as well as wonderment. T. came out from the kitchen and joined us for darts. We also tried a chicken liver small plate, which was delightful if undocumented. The night went a bit later than I might have initially intended, and it was definitely a bit boisterous, but in a good way. I was glad to have a relatively low key birthday day, but with the advantage of good company and dart practice.

I haven't gotten a haircut in months. Not since May, in fact. This was generally a purposeful decision. I wanted to grow my hair out so something fun and fancy could be done with it at LB's wedding. Mission accomplished on that front. So with the wedding behind me and my hair lacking in any real style or direction, I finally got myself together and made an evening appointment to see my stylist. I'm a terrible client, only getting my hair cut every six months, but I am loyal. I have followed this woman from one salon to another because I like her overall attitude and she always gives me a good cut that won't be too hard to maintain (I do not own a hair dryer or curling iron, so a cut that requires either in order to look consistently good is generally out of my reach). Unfortunately she was running a good 30 minutes late when I arrived, so the hostess suggested I go to a nearby watering hole for a bit and then return. I chose to try the former Fish spot, Rhino Bar. It was still not even 6 PM, so I was the first person in the establishment. Both men who served me were nice and informative. I ended up ordering a glass of wine and three of the happy hour $1 oysters of the day, which I could have sworn were called 'Top Chop' but when I search for that variety, they don't seem to exist.

The Monday oysters I tried were of two different varieties, and the thing that made me sad about them was that they weren't all that discernibly different. I love oysters. I may still qualify as a dilettante compared to some, but I truly can and do note differences between species, so saying that the two different varieties tasted the same means, for me, that their shared similarity was one of tasting just a wee bit fishy, literally and figuratively. In any case, these mystery oysters didn't have that veil of 'maybe this oyster is not quite as fresh or happy as it could have been' and better highlighted what a mild briney oyster can be. I was pleased.

Then I had my hair cut successfully (I now have bangs). I brought with me a Living Social coupon, which entitled me to a discount in cheese and small plates at Tria. I had planned on redeeming the deal with BC. Unfortunately she had to cancel at the last minute, but I decided to follow through with the rationalization that it was my birthday week. This didn't work out exactly as I planned because the coupon was only good at one of their locations, and it wasn't the one I entered. In the end that didn't stop me from trying a cheese, a small plate, and a glass of wine at the bar. I chose to try one of their "Stinky" cheeses, the Quadrello di Bufala from Lombardy, Italy, which is made up of Buffalo milk. I'd give it a 5 as far as actual stinkiness, and perhaps a 7 overall. The cheese was served with sliced bread and dried/preserved cherries. I hardly touched the bread, but the cherries were decimated. I also decided to try their beets with feta cheese, which were good but not terribly remarkable. I asked for a wine that the lady behind the counter thought would go well with the cheese, and she brought me an Australian Syrah made in an Italian style. The fact of the matter was that I didn't really love it, but didn't want to complain because what do I know really? Thankfully she asked if I liked it, and I was honest in my so-so appreciation. I felt that it wasn't doing much to open or play with the tastes of the cheese. It was dry and a bit herby, but not in a way I particularly enjoy. So she ended up bringing me a glass of an Argentinian Malbec, which I found to be a better pair with the cheese and an altogether more pleasant play on my lips and tongue. I was grateful for the switch and lack of attitude about my feeling about that Syrah.

Another Meal and Parting Scenes

After I returned from my adventure I took a really delightful nap, the details of which I will not bore you with. Then Dad and I went back to the main house for a second dinner with a slightly different cast of characters. This involved another cheese platter or three, not to mention the turkey that wasn't able to cook the night before.

Oh and steamed artichokes.

And a sesame kale salad and deviled eggs and smoked salmon and pickled okra and a few other treats.

And then the next day came. I briefly went over to the house with my father before determining that I needed to get back to Philly. On my way off the lands I came across this dog, which was steadily running up the road...but for what I couldn't tell you.

He was working hard.

Just beautiful.

Morning and Breakfast in the Virginias

I woke up earlier than I planned the morning after Thanksgiving. I tried to go back to sleep, but the light coming through my bedroom window and the views beyond it made it hard to shut my eyes...so I decided to get up and get on with it. Dad and I were the only two guests in the house this particular evening, so I wandered a bit and took photos of the light and slightly outdated decor. Seriously, if I could I would buy this house and live in it forever. I'd make a few changes to paint decor and the like, but it's got a pretty good layout and feel to it.

Outside there was still a light frost on the grass and my car. And, in the instance of my car, also a fair helping of bird crap. Note to self: do not park under a tree in the country.

To one side of the house were an old shed and barn, both of which had seen slightly better days. I think there's a word for photographs featuring buildings in various stages of decay. The following photographs could, I would think, belong to such an oeuvre.

What I always find curious about barns like this, is just what the order was to its decay. Was it already filled with a million different kinds of junk and then one of its walls fell down? Or did one of its walls fall down and folks thought, 'well we might as well throw some junk in that there hole'? I'm guessing the former, but you never know. I also wonder at just what moment a barn went from functioning structure to something abandoned and unkept. It is a conscious choice? A simple matter of finances or change of ownership or circumstance? You can drive around any rural area and come across so many barns and even houses with this total feeling of neglect, and yet they are still standing, falling apart one board, one roof shingle, at a time.

After my house and barn tour I decided to go on a larger adventure, which ultimately led to breakfast at Mountain View Diner, where I ordered myself a full breakfast of two fried eggs, sausage links, toast and grits. Funny thing, there really wasn't a mountain view to speak of nor would the mountains that could potentially be seen resemble the mountains their website features. The breakfast was satisfying and met my basic standards for diner fare, but I wasn't terribly wowed.

A nice start to the day.

Thanksgiving Meal

Brother B. has been at the monastery for a bit longer than I have been alive. Or perhaps just a bit less time than I have been alive. Give or take lets just say 30 years. The monastery is located in the heart of some seriously beautiful Shenandoah countryside in Virginia. There is a working farm component to the land, so the sight, sounds and smells of cows were ever present during Thanksgiving and the day thereafter. Thanksgiving itself was made by Brother B.'s sister-in-law and nieces, perhaps with help from his brother and the nieces' husbands. I had 0% to do with the cooking, so I mainly filled up on cheese, enjoyed especially potent egg nog and flitted about taking so-so photographs. This sofa is the same sofa that was here when my parents and I would come up for a visit when I was younger. I recall building elaborate forts out of the cushions with another monk, and just having a grand time as a little person.

Brother B.'s brother after successfully slicing the prociutto wrapped cheese.

And Brother B.'s brother exhorting M. to give it a shot.

This old farmhouse and the one in which my father and I stayed are so strangely timeless. The wood paneling and decor that hasn't been updated since, I would think, the late '70s, can make one feel like they're in a bit of a time vortex.

Eggnog and belly laughs.

The house is not very updated in other ways other than decor. For example, its fuse system kept cutting out throughout the evening, which led to the electric oven being incapable of maintaining the temperature necessary to cook a turkey...which led to no turkey on Thanksgiving day. Thankfully (heh) there was also a beef tenderloin, which was grilled.

Brother B.'s great nieces and nephews, all up from Tennessee and Georgia respectively. These kids were pretty cool. My father and M. both seemed a bit overwhelmed by their constant energy and noise, but I found them to be engaging and friendly. At one point they took a flashlight from the house to play "German Spotlight," which I found just too funny. Too funny in that not funny kind of way when kids play a game that seems to allude to nazis. The game itself was basically freeze tag with a flashlight. I played a few times.

More snacks. Brother B. asked me to deal with the multiple cheeses located in the refrigerator, which you know was just so totally up my alley that I was more than happy to do so. This was a plate of salami and pepperoni wrapped prosciutto (pre-wrapped) and two different blue cheeses.

Another blue, a Camembert and I forget what that third one was...I didn't like it as much and so it must suffer the fate of not being cared about.

Before the sun went down there was such beautiful light and still-warm temperatures that all of us found our way outside at one point or another. The kids and their respective fathers threw a football around while an elderly Weimaraner wondered about.

It was a good meal. It's strange to spend a holiday with an extended family and group of folks you don't know all that well, as you simply don't have the same familiarity or comfort level as you might

Country Scenes

For Thanksgiving this year I joined my father in Berryville, Virginia at the Holy Cross Abbey. I hadn't been back since last year,  and that visit had been the first in a number of years, so I was glad to return to such a beautiful place. The drive was uneventful in all regards other than the scenery, which I found quite spectacular.

Slews of birds.

We were staying at a second house on the monastery's grounds. I wasn't as familiar with its location or landscape, but I was glad to get the opportunity to become just that.

Dad and I sat outside at that house for a while before joining up with a larger group of folks at the main guesthouse. And the views there looked like this.

Sushi c/o Akasaka and Music c/o Macklemore and Ryan Lewis

So L. was having a bad day a month or two back and I tried to lighten her mood by sending her this video, as I thought she might enjoy it...and boy howdy did she. Very quickly L. became quite the Macklemore fan, so much so that she went to slightly extraordinary lengths to find a way to see him/them perform live.  Macklemore and Ryan Lewis are definitely blowing up, so their Philly and NYC shows were long sold out...but their New Haven show was, at least at the time L. sought the tickets, not. So on Sunday after the craft show L. and I got into her car and drove the two hours to enjoy the sold out musical concert stylings of Macklemore and Ryan Lewis. Originally we were going to try Louie's Lunch, which claims to be the first maker of the 'hamburger sandwich.' Unfortunately they are closed on Sundays. Once this came to light I decided to do some research on sushi joints in the area because I had had a long-time hankering for sushi and thought this northerly jaunt would be the perfect excuse to fulfill that food impulse. Actually, I basically just asked L.'s friend S. for his recommendation, as he is from the area. And his suggestion was Akasaka. L. ordered gyoza to start and here they are.

I went hard on the sushi, ordering the sushi dinner, which included sushi and sashimi of many varieties. I added ikura to the meal because I am a glutton. To say that I was properly sushi satiated after this meal would be an understatement. Though now that I'm reliving it, I suddenly want sushi for lunch. That impulse I will fight.

Everything tasted great, was well presented and happy making. L. ordered toro at the midpoint of our meal...at first they said they didn't have any left, and then miraculously they did. Miraculously meaning that they had some frozen. L. let me have a piece and it had a strange bit of cartilage/was still frozen a little, so that was disappointing. She told me that the remainder of her plate actually was perfect, so while I had a bad bite, she had a number of good ones.

After dinner we made our way to Yale's campus and Toad's Place. They didn't allow me to bring my camera inside, which necessitated a walk back to the car. All photos from the evening come care of L.'s camera phone, as my phone was down to 15% battery life and I thought it wouldn't be responsible to waste that energy. The venue was good on the whole. Being surrounded by many college kids really makes me feel my age, but that's just how it goes I suppose. The opening acts were a bit longer than I, or pretty much anyone, would have preferred. And then there was a pretty significant delay between the end of the opening acts and the start of the main event. L. and I took up residence on the side of the stage...it was a sold out crowd and the center area was such a crush of folks that trying to stake out any claim to it was just too daunting to even bother with. So while I am griping about how old I am and the rather late start time, once they hit the stage it really was just a good show. Macklemore and his crew clearly enjoy performing and have worked on creating a great live event, which involved trying on members of the audience's thrift store clothes, crowd surfing, a live trumpet player and just a phenomenal amount of energy.

A very great show, a terrific performer with a great sound and overall life attitude. L. and I were just talking about how much we wish we were his friends/how I should marry him. One day Macklemore and Ryan Lewis, one day:)