Archive for the ‘On the Road’ Category

On Maine and Veruca Salt

Saturday, October 4th, 2008

I was in Portland, ME this week and have to give kudos to the airport employees. The woman checking my ID was friendly. The lady selling me a bagel was friendly. Even the security person at the metal detector chirped, “Thanks Doug, have a good day.” What a nice group of people.

Too bad there was still a flight to take; I ended up sitting next to a sweet girl and her obnoxious younger sister, whose parents were conveniently located on the other side of the aisle so they wouldn’t be tempted to strangle her mid-flight. She made it impossible to sleep with her shrieking running commentary:

“We’re in the air!”
“We’re in the clouds and I can’t see the world anymore!”
“I’m hungry! No, I want food now!”
“I have to go to the bathroom!”
“I can see the water!”

The moment we landed and pulled into the terminal, the twerp decided she wanted off the plane and started yelling in my direction:

“Move! Get your bag! GET YOUR BAG!”

If I were Willy Wonka and I owned a chocolate factory, this spoiled little brat would be attacked by squirrels and hauled into a garbage chute.

Anyway, Portland’s a very pretty place to be this time of year. On Tuesday night my co-workers and I ate at a local favorite, Norm’s Bar and Grill. Nice fish and chips — light batter, not greasy, plenty of malt vinegar to pour on top. I hadn’t eaten fish and chips in ages so it was a treat.

Wednesday night we revisited J’s Oyster Bar, the site of our incredible lobster rolls back in May. Get a load of the mussels marinara.

 

Fat, tender, melt-in-your-mouth mussels and marinara sauce bursting with tomato flavor. The linguine was cooked a minute past al dente, but I didn’t care because the mussels were so good.

If you’ve never been to Maine, I highly recommend taking a trip. Might be just past peak foliage season at this point, but it’s still worth it for the scenery and fresh seafood. If you fly in, take a moment to appreciate the friendliness of the airport staff — and pray that rude little girls aren’t on the flight.

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New Jersey Carbfest

Monday, September 29th, 2008

If you find yourself in Whitehouse Station, NJ and need a bite to eat, stop in at Bensi, a very respectable Italian chain restaurant.  Why do I know this?  Because Carolina, Jenna and I are crazy triathletes, that’s why.  On a whim (and following a week of complete inactivity), we decided to do one more race in Jersey on Sunday.  So we did what any good triathlete does the night before a race — we carbo-loaded.

As you can see, Jenna was extremely pumped about her gnocchi and the tantalizing prospect of waking up at 5 am.

Carolina managed to eat her shrimp and arugula without getting any arugula stuck in her teeth.  No small feat.

And I enjoyed my massive serving of penne, chicken and broccoli, down to the very last bite.

For our efforts, we were rewarded on race day with pouring rain and sloshing running shoes.  Just another Sunday for a bunch of crazy triathletes.

Bensi
531 US Highway 22 East
Whitehouse Station, NJ 08889
908-534-8899

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San Francisco Withdrawl Pains

Wednesday, July 30th, 2008

I arrived back in NY late last night and landed at JFK, otherwise known as “The airport that destroys my soul.”    I don’t even know where to begin with that place; no matter what time of day, it’s a Lord of the Flies situation.  At 10:45 pm the wait in the taxi line was 100 deep, and I witnessed a near fight between a driver and traffic officer — and let’s not forget the late night construction on the Van Wyck that had us sitting idle for half an hour.  By the time I got home I was weak with hunger, my contacts were stuck to my eyeballs, I had a pounding headache, and the warm glow of California seemed like a faint memory. Thanks, JFK. 

Maybe I’m just grumpy because I miss San Francisco.  If you’ve never been, go.  Go now.  It’s a wonderful city.  I was in San Jose last week for work, and then stayed on in CA so I could tool up to The City for a couple of nights (I was told “The City” is what locals call San Francisco.  Apparently calling it “San Fran” or “Frisco” screams tourist, kind of like calling Boston “Beantown”).

Everything about San Francisco agrees with me: the walkability, the culture and restaurants, the “big city with an intimate feel” vibe, the quirky neighborhoods, the emphasis on health and fitness, and the jaw-dropping natural beauty of the Bay. During the two nights I was there, I heard one car honk its horn. That’s right, ONE.  And I think the lady who did the honking was a tourist.  In NY, leaning on the horn is part of the driving test.  

On Sunday, I set out to walk the town.  First stop, the Ferry Building Marketplace along the Embarcadero.  

 

This had been my number one destination since I’d heard about its amazing Farmers Market.  I thought I’d read the Farmers Market was open on Sundays- oops, it’s not.  Oh well, the indoor gourmet shops of meats and produce and cheese were great, and I couldn’t resist the nutella bombolini at I Preferiti D Boriana Montepulciano (try saying that three times fast).

Not the breakfast of champions, but I didn’t feel so guilty since I knew I’d be walking up and down San Francisco’s hills for the rest of the day.  Plus, it was phenomenal.  Similar to a doughnut, but softer and chewier, with an explosion of creamy nutella inside.  I snapped this pic and the girl working the counter shot me a puzzled look.  ”What is with the picture?” she asked.  I told her it was for my blog, and we started chatting. “You have to go to La Vie and get the crab!” she said excitedly.  What a nice way to start the day— I love when people get all pumped up about food!

After the Ferry Building, I was off to Chinatown.   Just like in NY, there were guys spitting on the street (one guy almost spit on my shoe) and vendors hawking knock-off designer sunglasses. Rishi had told me about this Vietnamese restaurant that made great pork banh mi sandwiches.

It’s grilled pork on a toasted bun with shredded fresh vegetables and slices of jalapeno for heat.  Best of all, it’s $3.50!! I was loving my sandwich so much that I texted Rishi to share my rapture. His response:

“That’s like the best price to awesomeness ratio of any sandwich- other than a Big Mac maybe.”  

With a full stomach I continued on through Jackson Sq. and into North Beach.  North Beach is SF’s Little Italy, and it’s bursting at the seams with restaurants and cafes.  Everyone was relaxed and eating outside— this was undoubtedly one of my favorite parts of the city.  Just north of North Beach is Telegraph Hill, which I think is the highest point in San Francisco.  At the top is Coit Tower, the 210 foot landmark.  Don’t let the hills scare you, it’s easy to walk to, and much more fun than driving up and trying to find parking.

A quick elevator ride up to the top of Coit Tower and you’ve got a breathtaking panoramic view of the entire city.  That’s the Ferry Building in the distance.

And there’s Alcatraz, also known as The Rock.

I spent the rest of the afternoon walking through Russian Hill, Nob Hill, Tenderloin (yes, that’s really what it’s called, and um, maybe not a place you want to walk around; I’ll leave it at that), and the Civic Center, where the Asian Art Museum was having an exhibit on the Ming Dynasty.  Grabbed a quick snack of pesto pizza afterwards.

Then it was back up to Union Sq, and a short train out to Inner Sunset, where I was meeting my cousin David for dinner.  I had an hour to kill, so I picked up some coffee and strolled through the beautiful Golden Gate Park.  The rose gardens were in full bloom.

David and his girlfriend Nahleen made reservations at one of the most popular Thai restaurants in the city, Marnee Thai.

Me with Nahleen and my cous.

David and Nahleen have eaten here often, so they knew the good stuff.  We started with samosas.

Roasted duck salad.  The lime vinaigrette was tart and tasty.

A Thai staple, pad thai.

Pork in green curry sauce.

And roasted whole chicken with sweet chili sauce.

The food was so good; I was glad I’d saved room throughout the day for dinner!

So that’s an overview of the The City.  There was so much more to see and eat— I could have used another three days.   The mission-style burrito and pupusas are on the list for next time.  I can’t wait to get back out there.  In fact, I’ve decided to try to convince my family to move west so I can relocate and not feel guilty.  It’s easy to fall in love with San Francisco— go, go, go, and tell me all about it.  Or take me with you.  Just, can we not fly out of JFK?

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Where to Eat in San Francisco?

Friday, July 18th, 2008

Help!  Advice needed for my upcoming trip to CA.  I’ll have two nights in San Francisco, and I want to make the most of it since it’s one of my favorite cities and on my “Places where I could imagine living” list. The plan is to walk the city ’til my legs fall off and eat ’til I have the Joey Chestnut face going.  I’m most interested in gourmet markets, hidden ethnic gems and eat-and-go kinds of places. Any and all suggestions are welcome and much appreciated!

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I’m in a Texas State of Mind

Friday, June 6th, 2008

I’m back from Texas, having sweated off five pounds of water weight during the trip.  Gotta love 99 degree heat.  My co-worker Ed and I walked out of the air-conditioned Austin Airport on Tuesday and said “Hey, this is nice!”  That changed to, “Ooh, it is kind of hot.”  Then we stepped into the full sun— “Holy S*&#!!”

We didn’t spend enough time in Austin to get a really good feel for the town, but it definitely seemed quirkier and more artsy than what I imagine the rest of Texas to be.   We had a great lunch at Guero’s Taco Bar on S. Congress Ave.

I loved the funky, laid-back atmosphere and fast, fresh food.  My tacos al pastor hit the spot— marinated chunks of pork on corn tortillas with onion, cilantro, and the best part, fresh pieces of pineapple.  

Here’s Ed looking pensive as he ponders the enormity of his meal.  He may have over-ordered.

We drove down to San Antonio and our colleagues took us to the famed Riverwalk area.  I was excited to see the Riverwalk, although I knew we were being typical tourists (kind of like people who think they’ve experienced Boston and New York because they visited Faneuil Hall and Times Square).  But it’s such a unique place— a festive netherworld below the city streets with scores of restaurants and bars lining the San Antonio River, and riverboats filled with tourists floating by.  There’s something surreal and Disney World-esque about it— if Disney World served alcohol.

We ate dinner at Boudro’s, and I had an excellent mesquite grilled Texas quail (how come I think of Flirting With Disaster when eating quail?).

By the way, the temperature had cooled down at this point to a downright nippy 87 degrees.

Side note:  The Alamo is near the Riverwalk, and I’ve gotta say, it was much smaller than I thought it’d be.  I’d envisioned a large, palatial building.  Instead, it looked more like the exterior of Coco Rumba’s in Mt. Kisco.  

Yesterday was a long day, and we didn’t hit the road back to Austin until late.  People kept recommending The Salt Lick as the place for insane BBQ, and we still hadn’t had dinner, so Ed and I popped the address into our GPS and started driving.  The Salt Lick’s on the Austin outskirts in the town of Driftwood— I’m sure it’s perfectly fine during the day, but at night, the back roads feel desolate and vaguely creepy (this is not a bad thing— Ed and I were both enjoying the adventure).  We almost leveled a raccoon sitting on the road and joked that the drive felt like a scene from No Country for Old Men.   Turns out Driftwood’s no country for late men, because The Salt Lick was closed by the time we arrived.  

Thankfully, I had a second chance.   This morning we stumbled around Austin Airport looking for a bite to eat (at Earl Campbell’s Sports Bar the server told us there were no tomatoes because they’d “found something” in them.  Ooh, that sounds good, let’s eat here!).  Eventually we came upon this… 

Woohoo, The Salt Lick’s gone commercial!  I ordered a chopped brisket sandwich.

It was tasty and tender, but completely lacking in any smoky flavor.  Good, but slightly disappointing.  Still, at least now I can say I’ve been to The Salt Lick.  Sort of.

Now I’m back home.  For dinner tonight?  A big salad.  

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