History

Yesterday, on a lark, mom offered to drive my niece up to San Francisco to join me for lunch today if I could fit it in my schedule.  What a treat!  (They live 3 hours away.)

I accepted immediately and rescheduled my client commitments for the day.  I wanted to pick something that would be a fun memory for everyone, so I opted for McCormick and Kuleto's, with its excellent views of aquatic park and Alcatraz from Ghiradelli square.  I hadn't been there in 10 years or so, but the views from GS are always great and I'm a big fan of McCormick and Schmicks, so I knew the food would be good.

I arrived on time, but mom texted that she and niece were running a little bit late. (Not a huge surprise, if you know my mom.  Obviously, an unscheduled costco stop was in order on the drive.)

I was starving, and certain their estimated delay was not correct, so I ordered an appetizer and a beer at the bar.  I was very happy that they were making the majority of the effort to come to me, so I didn't want to be grumpy when they arrived.  My appetizer and beer did the trick.  An hour later, they walked in, hugged me, and the bartender (with whom I'd bonded over the last 60 minutes) demanded, "What took you so long?"

Mom, not to be stalled by anyone, animated in a way that I'm regularly shocked she can continue to maintain at this point in her life, demanded "This used to be Señor Pico, didn't it? I came here for my 21st birthday with my parents.  We sat at that table (pointing).  No wait, that one (pointing elsewhere).  Quite a bit has changed, but the windows are the same and these railings were there back then.  They had a drink that they were famous for, the potted parrot.  It was so ridiculous.  Your drink came with a ceramic parrot in it.  Do you know the history of this building???"

He just looked at me, amazed at the energy of my mother and smiled, "Enjoy your lunch."

I was so pleased to have picked a restaurant that had a memory for my mom.  Her parents both died relatively young, as did her brother, so there hasn't been much joint reminiscing at family gatherings like there is for my father's family, which is huge, mainly still alive, and very close.  I'd never heard this story.  I didn't know anything about her 21st birthday.  I loved hearing about what she'd done the night she'd legally turned 21 in her college town as well as the weekend afterwards with her parents.  Also, I love learning bits of Californian history.  I'm a multi-generational Californian and over the years, in the bay area, interacting with so many transplants, it's become quite a point of pride for me.  I love my state and I love to be knowledgeable about its geography and history, so this was yet another data point to file for future use.  In short, it was the perfect gift a mom could give her daughter. 

Mom, of course, proceeded to tell every worker at the restaurant we interacted with about her memory.  None of them knew the history of the building.  Until our server, that is.

Our server was *so* great.  He knew the Señor Pico past, and even knew about the potted parrot but he hadn't met anyone who'd ever had one (much less on their 21st birthday!).  He and mom traded excitement, which was so cool.  He was so honestly happy to meet someone who had actually had the kitschy drink, parrot and all.  She was just excited to interact with someone who knew what she was talking about.  Also, he knew that Señor Pico was owned by Trader Vic's at one point and volunteered that history as well, which, the Californian data nerd in me found very cool.

He also happily took our photo, advising on lighting and taking not one, not two, but four photos, with the last one being the best -- he obviously knows how to keep the tourists happy!

My niece commented that 4 generations of women in my mom's line had all dined in this building as of today -- such a cool observation, and it definitely made the day more special.

In short, today was one of the cooler gifts my mom has ever given me as an adult.  I'm very thankful.

Japan

The trip in food shorthand: sushi, traditional multi-course japanese meals, shabu, kaiten-zushi, teppanyaki, onigiri & rice crackers, xiaolongbao, ramen, robata, and more onigiri and rice crackers.  Mmmmm....Did I mention I LOVE Japanese food?

Prettiest Bento Meal I've Ever Seen (and Eaten)

  

So, E & I just completed a week-long trip to Japan.  We had a wonderful vacation in Japan back in 2008, visiting Tokyo, Kyoto, Nagano and Okinawa. This trip, in contrast, was for business, and it was all Tokyo.

Entrance To the Hie Shrine

On the flight over, I listened to about 4 hours of language lessons (shout-out to http://www.japanesepod101.com/) and was pleased to realize that my brain had actually kept a bit of the Japanese language study I'd done before our last trip somewhere deep in the recesses.  It was quite fun, actually.  For every lesson I did, I recalled another 4-5 words, phrases, or concepts from my memory that I thought I'd completely forgotten.  Bonus.

All the Foxes (Toyokawa Inari Shrine)

Even so, my command of the audio and spoken language was nowhere near what it was last time (and it's not like my Japanese was very good then, either).  But, in a surprising (to me) development, my Chinese studies actually paid off quite a bit.  I could read the few characters I recognized and know what basic things meant, even if I couldn't say them or understand what was being said.  Also, I can memorize what a character looks like thanks to my Chinese studies, which was helpful when trying to identify restaurants, etc.  I think it was actually easier to get around this time than last time, even though my spoken language skills were much worse.  Reading is important kids!

We arrived at almost midnight and caught the very last train to Shinagawa from Haneda.  Nothing lets you know it's time to get out quite like the meticulous shutting down the train station ritual of ten or so uniformed and white gloved Japanese guards.  From there, we managed to get a taxi to understand where our hotel was and he dropped us off in front of a completely closed building.

Yay for international adventures!  We were officially in the land of the weird.

Big Fox (Toyokawa Inari Shrine)

Eventually, we found our way through a mall and some banquet rooms to the lobby and an early morning sleep.  Wednesday we both worked, although we did manage to hit a sushi bar in the hotel for lunch.  E splurged on a more expensive set meal than I did and for his troubles he was rewarded with both uni and a live shrimp that waved its little legs around immediately prior to being butchered and placed on his nigiri rice -- that was a bit more graphic than we were expecting, but when in Rome...

For the first dinner, since the negotiations were done and the deal was closed, we met up with some of E's Japanese business partners and they treated us to a delicious 9 or 10 course meal.  Oh man.  I love me some Japanese food.  So many delicate, delicious, fabulous treats.  The partners were very impressed with our appetites for Japanese food and chopstick skills, and surprised at our explanation that in the bay area, it's considered standard to have good chopstick skills, regardless of whether you are Asian.

View of Roppongi

Thursday, E had press meetings and I had calls and work.  I woke at 4 AM and couldn't sleep any later, so, trying my best to be quiet and directing my laptop screen away from the bed, I was able to work 6 hours straight before 10 AM -- such a luxury.  From there, I hit the gym, which required me to walk through the mall (of course) in my workout clothes.  Given the looks I received, I'm fairly certain I was committing some sort of serious social faux pas.  Oh, well.  I'm a gaijin.  Not my fault...

Since I managed to close out all of my immediate work needs, I decided to treat myself to some culture and walked to two nearby shrines for my lunch break.  We were staying in Akasaka, which is primarily a business district, so I ended up walking amongst the salarymen and salarywomen and watching them delve into their phones in the calm of the shrines.  In both shrines, I was the only non-asian person and one of the few people who were actually taking in the sites.  Most of the people seemed to be simply seeking a peaceful break from the density and chaos.

Shrine, just smack dab in the middle of sky-scrapers

These shrines were both designated shinto shrines (apparently at least one was originally a Buddhist shrine but its story was modified to avoid destruction at some point), and each had its own designated animal (fox and monkey).

On Friday, we woke to snow.  Actually, I woke at 6 AM and worked 'til 9 without looking outside, but when I did, I was amazed at the view.  It hadn't snowed in Tokyo in 14 years before the week prior, and now it had snowed twice in one week.  We were a bit concerned about the logistics of moving to our weekend hotel, as we'd heard horror stories of the city's inability to handle the snow, but we managed to get to our new hotel in Roppongi unscathed.

For Valentines' day dinner, we splurged on teppanyaki at the Ritz Carlton.  E opted for the Japanese beef and I had spiny lobster.  For dessert, we sat at the window and watched the snow fall.  The hotel is on the 45th floor and supposedly has great views, but due to the snow, we really could only see for a quarter of a mile or so.  Even so, it was a wonderful way to celebrate.

Saturday, I woke, worked from 6-8:30 or so (it was Friday evening back home), and then headed to the gym at our new hotel, which was to die for.  I spent 2.5 hours working out, stretching (pigeon pose!), doing core and arm strength work, showering, getting in the hot tub, the cold plunge, and preparing for the day.  Such a luxury!

For our Saturday tourist activities, we enjoyed xiaolongbao at Nanxiang Dumplings, took in the Andy Warhol exhibit at the Mori art museum (and enjoyed a drink afterwards, as the 53rd floor view of Tokyo from the Mori Tower was wonderful now that it had stopped snowing), walked around Akasaka in the snow a bit, had an early dinner of ramen (complete with automated order ticket machine confusion), snacks of rice triangles and beer, and I was in bed by 7:20 PM.

53rd Floor of the Mori Tower

After the super early bedtime, I was worried that I would wake up too early and would be stuck trying to be quiet and not making light pollution, but I slept a blissful 11 hours and 25 minutes 'til 6:45.  Glorious.  I headed to the mall attached to our hotel and worked from the Starbucks for an hour and a half -- amazing how working on a Sunday AM doesn't bother me at all when I've had a supreme sleep beforehand.  From there, I headed back to the amazing spa and gym and repeated the 2.5 hour routine from the day before.  I can only imagine how fit (and relaxed) I'd be if there was a spa and gym like this in my daily life!

Tokyo Skytree

For Sunday's fun, we headed to the Tokyo Skytree, but were informed that the observation decks were closed due to wind (it was quite windy).  So, instead, we waited in line to take the elevator to the 31st floor and after surveying all of our options, had a traditional Japanese lunch (pictured at the top of the post).  This was like no bento box I'd ever seen and the servers were all in full kimonos with the toe socks and flip-flops.

Oh, well, this gives us time to navigate the subway...

For dinner, we headed to Inakaya with E's coworker.  Much yelling and cooking of items as ordered ensued.  E was recruited to pound mochi with a large wooden dowel while men who looked like sumo wrestlers yelled at him.  The food was delicious but couldn't begin to outweigh the hilarity of the experience.

And then it was Monday, time to go home.  Some work, another trip to the awesome gym/spa for me while E met with potential Japanese customers, then a quick trip to the market to buy rice triangles and rice crackers for the bus to the airport.

And voila, here we are.  Back home.

Cram It All In

For the post-marathon recovery week, I did very little, physically.  Lots of rest, approximately 7 miles of walking, a Bikram session (much harder than expected as the first *real* workout I attempted the Wed after a Sunday marathon), a 30 minute session of cardio at the gym including a 1.25 miles on the TM, and I capped it off with a glorious weekend of walking around San Francisco and a 3 mile Sunday AM run on the Embarcadero with my husband.

I love running with my husband.  I was so happy to enjoy the weather, the views, the people watching and the experience of breathing hard and moving well together.  Such a privilege.  I very much hope he is willing to continue to do this with me, because it is awesome.

Around these minimal workouts, I stuffed everything and anything that would fit in the holiday season last week.

Tons of work from clients frantic to get things done before the holidays?  Check.

End of year billing and accounts receivable hurdles? Check.

Mandarin night dinner of Peking Duck with the Mandarin Ladies?  Check.

The usual mixture of professional lunches and coffees for networking, potential new clients, and maintaining relations with people in my field?  Oh, at least 3 of those.

Good friend going into labor causing obsessive phone status eval?  Check.

But wait, there's more.

The friend had a very happy and healthy baby girl.  Go baby RB!

Saturday AM, we tried to fit in a NAR high power rocket certification for both me and E. Unfortunately, the fog ceiling disagreed, so despite our rockets being ready to go, the weather won out (as it often does with respect to rockets).

After that, we checked into our hotel and hit up 3 holiday parties in SF in less than 24 hours where we reconnected with old friends and made new ones.  Plus, in addition to the run along the Embarcadero, we also fit in a a brunch with friends we hadn't seen in a long time to catch up at the delicious Gracias Madre (Vegan mexican food? I know. I was suspicious too.  But it was amazing!).

All told, I think I had the most social interactions I've had in 48 hours since a very long time (probably sometime last holiday social blitz).  If I was good at names, I could tell you the names of the 10-15 new people this weekend (but I'm not, so that's a bummer...).

In short, this introvert is exhausted.  But proud.  It was a very productive week.

San Francisco Weekend

A long time ago (a decade ago, in fact), E and I moved down the peninsula and told ourselves that we'd take a hotel room when we were missing out on stuff in San Francisco. That was how we justified the loss of a true culturally diverse city in exchange for our plot with a garden and good, sunny weather, and a shorter commute.

We haven't taken ourselves up on our promise to return and stay in hotels as much as we should have. But we've done it more than most. In fact, we do it at least once a year thanks to my first post-college-employer, who invites us to their holiday party every year.

This year, we crammed as much as possible into the weekend. I started with Friday business meetings and lunch with a law school friend at Claudine followed by tea with another lawyer at the Ferry Building and late afternoon work at Ritual. We swung by Aldea Niños to buy a baby gift on our way to our friends before they drove us to dinner at A47 (in an unplanned coincidence, each of us had driven the route in France within the last 6 months, which was pretty cool -- the map on the menu made sense to all of us and we discussed our favorite stops).

So, really, could I have a more stereotypical SF Friday?

Why, no. And how grand was that?

Wonderous. Like driving down Lombard Street.

Which, for some reason, I also did this weekend. As a passenger. Damn, that's cool...



We stayed at the Embarcadero and enjoyed views of the holiday ice skaters (the majority were ice wobblers, actually), Christmas lights, and holiday shoppers.



We attended the holiday party at Alexander's Steakhouse and we had brunch twice with friends, once at Kingdom of Dumpling (how can you argue with that name?) and once at Just For You Cafe.

Overall, it was a whirlwind of social activities with some work squeezed in between. But the weather was perfect, the views were amazing, and we were reminded, once again, why San Francisco really is one of the greatest cities.

P.S. Sometimes, San Francisco looks like Tron:

Sonoma Gluttony and Week -6

I was 1 lb away from high race weight before we left for Sonoma. (woot!)

And yet, just a simple trip to Sonoma later, here I am, 2.8 lbs back from the goal... (le sigh)



It was worth it.

You see that picture? That's what happens when you are lucky enough to be born in the right place and the right time to have the former sous-chef of a Michelin star restaurant (who was there when they were awarded the star) as a childhood friend (best friend's little brother and very good friend of my little brother).

Okay, so you have to be lucky enough to have all of these things happen, and then you have to come visit the hotel attached to his restaurant, and he has to arrange for an "employee-favor" rate/room, and, the next thing you know, the head of front desk guest operations is leaving a hand-written card next to this ridiculous cheese-board.

Just in case you weren't in enough awe, when you show up for dinner with the former sous-chef, at said restaurant, you will be privy to the best treatment and service at a meal you've ever your life. And the discount on the bill will make you cringe because, honestly, you've never left a tip that was 200% of the bill. But, in this case, anything less should be insulting.

Basically, our trip to Sonoma was perfect. Slept in the car while E drove (yay!). Lots of reading (double yay!). No computer or work for at least 30 hours. That's a record for the last 4-5 months. I'm going to try to break it soon. I do love arbitrary goals.

And, in running news, I hit 47.53 miles for the week. Approximately 15 miles more than I did this week last cycle. It includes 5.6 unscheduled extra miles of walking. I dialed a couple of the workouts back, but I actually added unexpected walks in SF, Infineon raceway (hills!), and after the short-cut tempo run such that my overall mileage was higher than expected.

Overall, I'm amused to be high on mileage despite my inability to do 9 miles at race pace. I did 7. Painful Miles. On a treadmill. While trying to watch TV on 6 different channels at the gym. But everything was horrid. When I called it a day, I guiltily walked an extra mile to cool down. It was a strong effort, but nothing close to what was on the schedule.

I'm very interested to see how this all plays out. Part of me thinks this training schedule is insane for any adult with a truly demanding job or family (and gasp, what if you have both?). This part thinks that even my paltry efforts at sort of sticking to it are crazy.

The other part of me knows that while this schedule probably doesn't make sense, I've done more mileage per week than ever before in my life. I'm more fit than I've been in at least 3.5 years. I'm being reasonable about cutting myself slack on the recovery days and just trying to hit quality workouts in a reasonable fashion (even if I have to drop 2 miles from a tempo run).

Did I mention the post-Sonoma gluttony long run was cut from 10 to 6? Yeah. That happened. But it was a non-quality workout, and my hips hurt in the car, so it seemed like I made the right call.

I still hit 47+ for the week.

Wish me well for 51 miles on schedule for this week. I'm definitely in the thick of things, now.

London

Almost home, but not. Quite. The English Language. But different. Summer. But raining intermittently.

The hip hotels here make me feel like my ordinary self on vacation at home, but for some reason I want to call it "holiday" and there are different toilet flush buttons, odd power outlets, and 0 is the ground floor.

To start our British adventure, we spent a beautifully stereotypical British Night and Day with two of my college roommates.

First, E and I missed our Eurostar train from Paris. This should say something about how laissez-faire Europe had made us. And, in fairness, we didn't really miss it, but we didn't arrive before they closed boarding, so we stared at our train from the platform above for 10 minutes before it departed. They wouldn't let us even try to board. Eventually, they gave us seat assignments on the next train. They did not seem to think the hour between trains should matter. And, since we were on Holiday, they were right.

Note to self, while much has not changed in the decade I've been gone, the Eurostar between France and the UK is much more complex, process-oriented, strict-like-TSA, and takes much more time to manage. If time is of the essence, be sure to arrive with at least an hour to spare for security, customs, etc.

We left the rainy overcast skies of Paris, and after passing through the chunnel were surprised to find London to welcome us with sunshine and an arch covered with Olympic rings that seemed to proclaim the great discovery we quickly made: St. Pancras has free wireless! Ahhh... the sweet sensation of sliding towards home -- the Internet is necessary and ubiquitous here, unlike at Gare du Nord, where we couldn't even pay for access.

After an email to our hosts explaining our delay, we took a quick tube ride to V's house, we walked a Kilometer or so and there we were: Guests in a beautiful Northern London home with dinner reservations for N's birthday at Veeraswamy.

Veeraswamy was easily one of the best meals of the trip, and definitely the finest Indian dining experience of my life. Yummmmm! Thanks to N's friend in LA who sent the recommendation!

Sunday, we slept in, had a big breakfast of toast, coffee, fruit, ham, and cheese. Except the ham was turkey, because our hosts were Jewish. But their kids still called it ham, because they are British and have hefty British accents (despite a German-American-English accented mother and American-English speaking father).

At around 11:30 AM, we finally motivated to move the entire group quickly through one of the breaks in the rain -- we walked through a local park, enjoying a zoo with ring-tailed lemurs, a secret garden, a pergola, a pond, and, in a surprise to all of us, a street fair in Hampstead.

A friend came out to join us for a pint at a good old-fashioned English pub (The Duke of Hamilton), followed by a late lunch at the oh-so-British chain of Pizza Express, then more walking, a Pimm's (although it was overcast and rainy), a relaxing afternoon of catching up and take-out sushi dinner, and a tube ride to our hotel.

Today, we did lunch while enjoying the river views with W (a friend and client) from the restaurant on top of the Tate Modern. We toured W's company's offices in Bankside, did a bit of work, enjoyed the displays of the Tate, took a leisurely walk through St. James Park, Green Park, and Hyde Park (despite the intermittent rain), and treated ourselves to a delicious Moroccan dinner on Edgeware Road.

Tomorrow promises to be more clients, a trip to the science museum, a good-bye dinner with one last college friend (and client), and then it will be time to return to the U.S.

This trip has been one of the best two week periods of my life. I'm the most relaxed I've been in at least 5 years, perhaps longer.

It's as if the return to Europe after a decade of absence was a reset button on my stress levels allowing me to return to a life before law school, before my father died, before my brother was injured, before much of the major stresses in my life. Somehow, my aged self, when put in the face of these slightly foreign cultures that are reminiscent of habits and approaches I freely experienced in my younger days allowed me to let go of my current life and reconsider it in a way I haven't done in quite some time.

I have learned, that at its most basic, I love my life. I love my husband, my family, my friends, and that I've structured my life such that I can travel, because it is extremely important to me.

Here, in these cultures, I've found myself thinking regularly about how important it is that things be done well. Since becoming a lawyer, and likely before, I've always tried to do things both quickly and well, despite the inherent conflict.

Europe seems to understand that conflict, and, if I may be so bold as to generalize, appears to have erred on the side of doing things well. If I lived here full-time, I suspect I would rant like many of my friends have done to us, extolling the virtues of the American end-product-based analysis and service-based economy (when you are a consumer). But, this vacation has allowed me to see and enjoy the benefits of a non-service oriented economy (e.g. a process-based commitment to quality).

Here, my brain feasts on languages I can understand but that are not native, my nose and mouth feast on quality local specialty foods and smells that could make anyone swoon in delight, and my eyes feast on the colors, light, and beauty of Europe's gardens, architecture, and art. How could I not feel blessed? I am happy to say that I took the time to pause, meditate, light a candle and/or say thanks in no less than three of the most beautiful places of worship in the world.

Of course, this rose-colored view of Europe is unfair. Unlike most of my EU friends, I have a big refrigerator and freezer at home. Our gas is cheap and highway tolls are essentially non-existent. When I sit in a restaurant, I don't have to wait 15 minutes wondering if I will be served at all. And, the dollar goes *much* further at home.

But, on balance, this trip was just too much tipped in favor of Europe. In addition to all of the linguistic fun and positive different world-view experiences that gave me things to think about, emotionally, I was able to fit in several visits to friends I hadn't seen in a long time.

And, I was able to share the entire experience with my husband and best friend. At times I wanted to pinch myself with joy. He waited uncountable times while I took just "one more picture." And, even better, he patiently listened and joined me in the verbal rehash of each day as I savored the wonderful remnants of its experiences.

I'm already planning our European return...

My Husband Is a Genius

On technical matters, I never forget. He's a freak of nature in how smart he is.

But tonight, we had the best date night we'd had in a long time. And I'd forgotten -- he's also a genius when it comes to enjoying steak.

At least 2 months ago, he'd identified John Howie Steak as the one big celebratory date night splurge meal he'd like to do before we left the Seattle area.

We'd been a few times for their Happy Hour and while I agreed that their offerings were good, I was not sold.

First, their menu was *very* expensive.

Second, with such a great happy hour menu, I found it hard to justify going all out.

But, E was insistent. He'd scoured their ever changing menu and drooled over drying cuts in the cold cellar. This was his one request while we were here.

So, of course, we made plans to fit it in (and, we wanted to do so with enough buffer before our trip to Spokane/Coeur D'alene/Yellowstone that we wouldn't want to avoid steak on our trip -- 'cause if she hasn't yet popped out the Kid, my pregnant sister has plans to treat us to steak, too! Yay!).

Turns out, tonight ended up being the night for steak. So, we made reservations and walked on down.

Oh. My. Goodness.

Best steakhouse I've been to in the United States.

E knows how to pick them. That is no joke.

Plus, we deployed the trick we learned in Argentina and opted to share. The 3 (4 oz.) filet sampler. USDA prime vs. American Wagyu vs. Australian Wagyu. We blind tasted and laughed -- telling the USDA prime from the Wagyu was a piece of cake. Telling the Wagyu from each other was an acquired taste.

Add a glass of bubbly for me and a syrah for E plus a half bottle of Sequel 2006 Syrah, salads beforehand (plus a breadbasket full of awesomely decadent bread selections), and sides of macaroni & cheese (to die for) and polenta with American Wagyu bolognese (too much, to be honest, we didn't even pack it to go) and we were in heaven.

All in all, it was a perfect date night.

Cooler Than We Thought

Thanks to my plane delay, tonight, we ended up showing up for one of our local late night happy hours for dinner at 11:15 PM. Pearl's free valet parking, mussels, tuna tartar, sautéed wild mushrooms, tenderloin bites with blue cheese and an extra side of bread? Oh, hell yes. We were spoiled rotten. And we devoured every bite amongst the cool digerati.

We were also out 'til after midnight, which for us is a serious rarity. Last night, I fell asleep at 10:30 PM before my 23-yr-old roommate in CA even made it home from his workout.

Add the pretty people in town for business in their gorgeous clothes and we were very happy with ourselves this evening. We felt like perhaps we were not seriously lame and old.

In fact, after our impressive late night performance on a Thursday (before a Friday and Saturday of ridiculously good behavior to prep for Sunday's race), the only downside was, by the time we got back to our building, all of the useful parking was taken and we had to park 2 floors down, far from the elevators.

All-in-all, given the scenery and delicious food, it was worth it. At least this once. Next time, we'll likely skip it, but at least we now know what it's all about and that next time we'd prefer a slightly less hip establishment.

Mmmm... I'm so happy to have butter sauce soaked bread (mussels with bacon and a separate mushroom dish???) in my belly. It's a rare option these last 4 months, since I've been committed to healthier eating and training. But, boy-oh-boy, when it's available, the hind-brain is all too happy to indulge in the high calorie protein/fat feast. Yummm!!!

The Unhappy Hour

One of the great things about our temporary relocation is the opportunity to try new restaurants. When E's folks were in town, we ate out for every meal, both in the greater Seattle area and in Whistler.

We still have plans to hit up Salumi, Mario Battali's dad's deli, one of these days, but that will likely need to wait for a weekend so we can make a full Seattle day of it.

Due to the economic downturn, many of the fancy restaurants in the Seattle area have taken to having happy hour menus with small plates in the restaurant's theme and lower priced drinks. Since we live within walking distance of downtown Bellevue, we can walk to many of these options in less than 5 minutes. Additionally, some of the restaurants have taken to offering the happy hour menu again, after the traditional dinner hour. This results in the interesting side effect that the happy hour menu is available from 3 - midnight in many of these restaurants with only a short break from 6:30 to 9 or so.

So, we've taken to eating only during happy hour (or avoiding the "unhappy hour" as I like to call it) at some of our favorite restaurants like Seastar (a walk to an early dinner of half-priced oysters, deviled eggs, and raw fish?), Daniel's Broiler (early or late deliciousness with a view of Seattle from the 21st floor), and John Howie Steak (Did someone say *fried* gnochi?).

There are several more options we're looking forward to trying like Pearl and Monsoon.

Unfortunately, my favorite local restaurant, Din Tai Fung does not have happy hour, nor do they take reservations. So we go there at odd hours to avoid the 1.5 hour wait as well. E's favorite restaurant, Sushimaru is so reasonably priced that every seat along the conveyor belts are full with a wait on the benches along the wall during workday lunch and dinner hours.

In short, the traditional eating hours are not a good time to be eating at restaurants in the Seattle area. But if you're flexible on time, you can get quite a great deal.

40 Hours in Argentina

We arrived in Buenos Aires at 7:40 AM. The bonus of renting an apartment vs. staying in a hotel is that you can check in whenever you arrive, then take a nap, then a shower, and finally head out to sight see right around the time when you'd finally be checking in to your hotel.

The first meal: walk to build up an appetite and view local plazas. Finally sit down to 2 hours of sparkling water, wine, bread, pickled grilled eggplant, a huge grilled serving of skirt steak and a salad (you pick each ingredient and the size of your salad -- a brilliant approach) at Minga.

As an aside, I almost cried at the deliciousness of my Cafe Americano -- the best coffee I'd had in years. I've had 3 since we arrived: no sugar, no milk, just deliciousness. Anyways, big shock -- the meat was juicy, delicious, and flavorful, as promised. The chimichurri was different than anything I've ever had -- it seemed like a mixture of oil, dried oregano, vinegar and salt (delicious, but very different). The pace was slow, the servers were amazingly friendly, and overall, we decided we were in love with this Country within 8 hours of arrival. E even went so far as to compare it to Australia, "I'd love to move here if it wasn't so damn far from everything..."

We walked about 7 miles between the nap and sleep that first day, exploring Palermo, getting lost, grocery shopping, and getting our Argentinian Spanish bearings.

And, today, the next day, was a whirlwind tourist day typical of folks who are over-eager to make the most of their vacation. Upon arrival back at the apartment, we gmap'd it, and it looks like E did his first half marathon today!

After sleeping in and some brief work efforts on both our parts, we walked from our apartment to 5 banks (count 'em). Finally, we found an ATM with cash. I am now quite proficient at the Spanish necessary to figure out if someone who is leaving an ATM has actually received cash or is leaving in dejection -- oddly, this is a set of figurative phrases I'm not sure I could translate as I've never had the opportunity to experience this situation in English (much less 5 times!). E's theory was an early morning run on the banks before the Portenos woke up. Or, he pointed to their history of poor currency management. Me, I was just totally confused, most of all by the looks of understanding and expected failure by locals who realized there was no cash to be had at a particular bank (as in NONE of the ATMS had any left).

Thankfully, we found a bank with money and acquired enough for a noon stop at a cafe (mmm... Cafe Cortado, or whatever they say when I order my Americano, I thought Cortado had 1/3 milk, but ordering an Americano gets me what I expect even when they correct me). An hour later, after sipping our coffees and nibbling the pastries they served alongside, we marched on.

The Floris Generica.

Lots of plazas and gardens.

The Recoleta Cemetary and Evita's tomb.

An amazing lunch of empanaditos gratis, Provoleta a la Napoletana served over a piece of wood charcoal, brochette de lomo, bookended by 1-inch thick pieces of bacon, intermingled with red pepper slices and onions, and served over its own piece of wood charcoal, at the table, and, of course the salad you compose from the menu (did I mention tomatoes are in season here? YAY!). Amazingly, we eventually roused ourselves from the table (post-Americano for me), fueled for the remainder of our half-marathon.

The Teatro Colon (closed for holiday, but gorgeous from the outside).

The Plaza de la Republica.

The Widest Street in the World (three light cycles to cross).

The Casa Rosada.

Half the trip to San Telmo, and then a stop at a cafe for water, and then, defeat. Maybe we'll fit it in before we move on, but if not, we're still in love with BA. So, rather than press on to the historic district, we took our exhuasted selves in a cab to a square that's a mile from our rented apartment and we walked home from there.

Relaxation.

Walk to dinner at Ceviche. Watch the electricity go out on the block where we are to eat. Enjoy a candelit dinner of amazing ceviche and sushi while patrons sing and play violin by candlelight (why did he bring a violin?). When it is time to leave, laugh with the server about needing to pay in dollars since the credit card machine won't work. Leave a generous tip since the majority of the reservations opted not to show up due to the dark restaurant.

Walk almost home. Get lost. Get un-lost.

Sigh in contentment to realize your apartment building is not without power, which means glorious air conditioning.

Yay Argentinian half marathon!

(Photos to come)

Happy Holidays

This weekend, E and I headed to San Francisco to attend the annual holiday party hosted by my first professional employer.

This employer, showing excellent judgment, refused to hire me at my first interview. I showed up at their offices in the Financial District dressed in head-to-toe spandex on rollerblades (I had come straight from diving practice). They had just moved to San Francisco from Boston, and, while they were looking for a Californian college student to do library research, they weren't quite prepared for my oh-so-Californian attire.

They hired a guy who showed up in a suit. He was terrible. They fired him. I re-faxed my resume a year later and showed up for my second interview in a suit. I got the job and worked through my last year of school and into my first full-time professional job. I loved working there -- they were excellent employers, and I tried to leave on very good terms to follow the dot-com boom.

I guess I succeeded because I was hired back as a consultant when I became inevitably unemployed as a result of the dot-com bust. Happily, I've been invited to every holiday party they've hosted since.

Over the years, we've been their guests at some of the city's best bars and steakhouses (and one year, they flew us to Vegas!). This year's party was during Santarchy, which added an extra festive note to our drinks at the Comstock Saloon and the delicious multi-course private room meal at 5A5. Bonus, I was able to give a toast thanking them for introducing me the beauty of small business ownership and for being one of the inspirations for starting my own law practice.

Every year, E and I look forward to this event for great conversation during a big night out on the town and a stay at a hotel. It's become one of our favorite holiday events. Last year we enjoyed Union Square in all of its holiday splendor with the lights, Christmas trees, Macy's wreaths, ice-skating rink, and more.

This year, we stayed at the the Hyatt Regency and enjoyed the spectacle of the approximately 1500 hanging columns of light (E counted). Sadly, we missed the falling snow effects of the lights, but we were joined with gleeful children on every elevator ride, so that they, too, could enjoy the spectacle of lights and the view of the decorated atrium below. The hotel clearly knows that the hundreds of children riding the glass elevators are not guests, but employees pointedly ignore the transgressions in the name of holiday fun.

Today, I looked at the list of events our hotel was hosting in addition to the immense effort they've put into decorations (Photo opportunities with Santa, holiday dinners and brunches, and more), and I was impressed. There's obviously a pride and a desire to contribute to the communal holiday festivities that many of the larger businesses, as well as the smaller businesses and individuals in San Francisco feel. It warms my heart to be part of it.

Happy Holidays.

Happy Solstice!

Summer is here and bringing its usual treats: lots of social stuff.

Last weekend's trip to Sonoma with E's family was gluttonous, relaxing, and wonderful.

A 1999 Barolo we'd been storing was an excellent complement to the meat and dessert courses we shared with E's family for the father's day celebration at Cyrus.

Our wine fridge is restocked, and I have new favorite winery in Sonoma: Passalacqua -- gorgeous grounds, excellent small production wines that you can only buy on site, friendly staff, discounts for wine club membership, and reasonable prices, what's not to like?

Next weekend, I'm off to Seattle to run the rock 'n roll half marathon with a friend I haven't seen in several months. It'll be her first half, and I'm excited to share it with her.

And, of course, the end of the fiscal quarter is doing what it does: burying me with work.

So, I'll probably be fairly quiet on the blogfront until July (when I hope to have ripe tomatoes!).

Happy New Year!

My plan was to drop brother at a party, enjoy a good meal with E, and to sleep my way into 2010.

I accomplished all of these things, and more, except the sleeping through.

First, we arrived to the growing threat of a party at T&H's construction lot and later, their current house. Brother's grin grew bigger with each new guest, and we smiled to leave him to what promised to be a huge party of his friends (many of whom haven't seen him in 6 months) in his honor.

As for the meal, I think BigDon may have intervened. We had reservations, but they were 6 blocks away and I was tired and without a coat. So, we called the nearest Italian restaurant to our hotel and were pleased to learn that they had room for us on no notice (of course, we were a bit early -- "yes, I would love a 6:45 PM reservation, thank you!"). The decor was modern and the smells delicious when we entered, but it was the appropriately decadent menu and the awesome people watching that really made the night of celebration.

Why yes, I would love to start my meal with a light appetizer of burratta and prosciutto di san daniele [Mmmmmm.... salty, fatty, goodness]

Wow -- I had no idea sequins were so popular right now!

I think I will have the hand made gnochi with chanterelles, lobster and truffle oil in a cream sauce

Talk about comfortable in your own skin ... don't look now, but at the table next to the party of men in suits and women in strapless dresses, there is a woman wearing a mu-mu that has a mustache...

And I will have the hand made pappardelle with beef sauce

As you can imagine, between the food's quality, good service, all the views, and the reasonable prices, we were having a lovely night. But then, (and this is where I think BigDon intervened) in walked the V's! We were thrilled for the opportunity to catch up with them before their meal, and then joined them when we were done to enjoy fun conversation about our families, friends, and the impending arrival of their new little one while they finished their dinners. What a coincidence! Of all the restaurants in the entire Sacramento area, even though they live in Folsom, they elected to dine early, downtown, at the restaurant we chose by nothing other than proximity to our hotel.

As promised, I was in bed and asleep long before midnight. I believe I put my book down and kissed E goodnight before 11 PM. So great!

At midnight, the revelry woke me so I could join E at the window and watch the fireworks over the capital building through our window with E's arm around my shoulder.

And then, I promptly returned to sleep to start the New Year this morning rested, relaxed, and with motivation to hit the gym bright and early.

Here's to 2010!

On a roll

Friday was one of the more self-indulgent days I've had in a while. After a morning of working from home, I took the afternoon off to have a long late lunch with T. We met at the ice-skating rink by the sparkling sky-scraping Christmas tree in Union Square. Between that and the tell-tale wreathes in every window at Macy's -- there is no denying it, Christmas is right around the corner.

We sat for two hours at Metropol, eating, sipping wine and chatting. Eventually, we moved the gossip and discussion of changes in the legal industry and what it could mean for our careers, long-term, to the salon, where we relaxed, sipping tea and coffee and watching the world walk by in Union Square from the windows while I got my hair done (if I'm only going to get it done once or twice a year, best to make one of those times before all the photographic preservation of the holidays, that's my motto!).

From there, we did a super-quick dress shopping run to Macy's, which thankfully had tons of reasonably priced dresses in stock (yay for shopping with an expert -- 1 party dress and 1 work dress in less than 1 hour, thanks T!).

And finally, I picked up E, and we checked into our hotel for our date night. After a drink at the hotel bar (complete with traveling singers in tuxes stopping in with an accordian to sing some Holiday Carols) we -- all dressed up, so proud -- took a cab in the rain to one of our all-time favorite restaurants -- Acquerello.

I cannot say enough about this 16-table restaurant. It is, without doubt, the best high-end Italian food I've had in the U.S., both on our last visit 2 1/2 years ago, and this one. Every morsel is phenomenal, and at least half bring back memories I've forgotten of my time spent in Italy (anchovy-stuffed deep-fried olive amuse bouche? Right. Not only can you stuff olives, you can bread them and fry them. Brilliant. How did I forget that?), the service is amazing, and the Italian accents of half the staff just add to the I-swear-I'm-in-another-country feeling of the experience.

Additionally, Acquerello always has a special imported ingredient that tries to steal the show. Last time, it was the burata. This time? WHITE TRUFFLES!!! (Okay, so the cheese cart was absolutely amazing, as well, and I savored every bite. But for me, the truffles won. E probably prefers the soft cow's cheese in walnut leaf he swooned over.)

But the truffles? Did I mention I love truffles? The tagliolini with butter, egg yolks and Parmesan cheese was one of the best dishes I've ever had in my life (not just best pasta dishes, mind you, best dishes ever). I need to learn how to make the butter, egg yolks and parmesan sauce even if I don't have truffles.

And tagliolini? How did I forget about this awesome pasta? I'll leave the making of it to the pros, but I plan to be buying some for simple liquid sauces.

Light pastas. That is one of the things that America makes it easy to forget about Italy. I shall try to remember...

Yes, Acquerello is an expensive restaurant, but it's probably less than most bay area 1-star Michelin restaurants, and, the food is absolutely worth it. Not to mention that it's much cheaper and easier than going to Italy if you'd like to feel as if you traveled.

In true Italian style, E and I slowly enjoyed all of our food and wine 'til after midnight (I didn't fall asleep or even threaten to do so), and then, upon arrival at our hotel, we fell, completely relaxed, into bed.

Saturday, I managed to get up and hit the gym for my first run since the awesome big-sur half marathon experience, and then we came home to enjoy lunch with sister and brother before I knocked out many of the chores that I often don't have time to finish before the end of the weekend (hello, all laundry is DONE!). Today, after an early bedtime, I woke to do 40 minutes of yoga before the day began in earnest.

In short -- a decadent Friday followed by a productive weekend? And I've still got half of Sunday ahead of me? I feel on top of the world.

Never Seen Before

Work is blowing up. If my experience is any indication, the economy should be starting to recover.

Tonight after a ridiculously long day at work when I was staffed on a new emergency fast track deal at 1:30 AM, I came home for a quick dinner before making myself available for additional document review and disclosure, if necessary.

E asked for Sushi. I obliged, because I'm trying to be a good wife (especially when I know I've been slipping on that front lately).

Our local Sushi joint is close. Good. Relatively reasonably priced. And tonight, there was a female sushi chef dressed in a red tunic with wide black color trim behind the sushi boat "U".

It really shocked me.

I don't think I've ever seen a female sushi chef before (but I can't be sure).

Anyone else? Am I just forgetting other encounters I must have had, or is this one of those things that doesn't usually happen?

Regardless, I like this place just a little bit more for bucking what is at a minimum a cultural norm, and may be, for all I know, a sexist prohibition.

E, of course, got no end of enjoyment out of accusing me of being sexist for liking the place more simply because it had a female chef...

San Luis Obispo Food

This weekend, E and I went to the central coast of California to visit my gran for her 83rd birthday.

We left the fog and clouds on Saturday morning to arrive to perfect blue skies, warm weather, and, of course, given that we were in the heart of farm and wine country, the best food and wine that California has to offer, fresh from the local farms that grow it.

Saturday birthday brunch with Gran in Morro Bay at a long-term local institution (where of course, everyone knew her by name) was delicious. Mmmmm... calamari steak...

For dinner, E and I decided to try a new restaurant, The Gardens of Avila.

The chef has amazing credentials, so we had high hopes, but you never know...

Before we headed into the restaurant, we stopped to enjoy the property and walk and relax in the labrinth and gardens -- so relaxing and tranquil. Our commitment to stop and enjoy nature rewarded us with a gorgeous sunset as we entered the restaurant:





We were, I must admit, a bit under-dressed (shocking). But the hostess paid no heed to my flip-flops, jeans, and tank top or E's 15-yr-old t-shirt. Instead, she graciously seated us without a reservation and the entire establishment proceeded to treat us to wonderful service.

The menu was simple but elegant, and amazingly reasonably priced. Chorizo was an ingredient in more dishes than I ordinarily expect, but I considered that a plus.

The wine-by-the-glass selection was full of great local selections at reasonable prices. We both selected a glass and they were happy to bring it to us to sip while we perused the menu. I selected snapper, with mussels, shrimp, fennel (and of course chorizo). E selected duck breast flanked by duck confit spring rolls.

While we sat in our booth after ordering, multiple bus-boys and servers came to our table to re-fill our water, and everyone treated us very well despite what I sheepishly realized was the apparent disparity between our attire and the majority of the patrons. Sometimes, Silicon Valley makes you forget that most people actually *dress-up* to go to a fancy restaurant. We laughed at our mistake, and enjoyed the fact that they did not seem particularly concerned with our choice in attire (granted the property has mineral springs hot-tubs, and people outside were walking around the property in bath-robes, so that helped with our level of comfort as well).

About half-way through our glasses of wine, our server arrived with a complimentary amuse-bouche from the chef. We were pleasantly surprised to learn that he had some spare pork belly and had prepared a marinated pork-belly kimchee-inspired bite for us. It arrived with a fully complimentary glass of Cambria pinot noir for each of us as well. I'm not certain how we were selected for this gift, as I watched the other tables to see if it was the norm and determined that it was not, but we were not complaining.

The only pork dish on the menu that I recalled seeing was Kurobuta pork loin. And, I suppose, if you order pork loin for the kitchen, there could be some spare pork belly in the mix. And, if I were I chef, I'd hate something that decadent to go to waste. But man... the wonderous creation he made with it... it was more than just salvage. It was by far the best pork belly preparation that either E or I had ever had (and trust me, E is a man who has eaten more than his lifetime allocation of pork belly during the time I've known him). Spicy. Tender. Rich, but cut with soy and citrus and ginger and pickled tiny bits -- just delicious. And, the wine was a perfect pairing:



From there, we were prepared to be wowed. As a testament to how well it was prepared, we were actually more hungry *after* the lardy-goodness of the treat than before. And, our excitement was not the least bit overzealous.

My snapper seafood plate was gorgeous, light, with oh-so-fresh tomatoes in the broth, some roasted fennel and chorizo to add contrast, and, well, it was just a beautiful array of flavors and tastes:



E's duck platter was nothing short of perfection. We agreed that it was in contention for the best prepared duck-breast either of us had ever enjoyed (and the spring rolls were excellent too!) and I come from a family that exhausts their duck tags every season:



After our entrees, we were certain we were full.

But then we ordered the cheese plate (because how can you say no to cheese?) and we were amazed yet again:



The far left is a goat, sheep, cow's milk cheese called La Tur. Really? Can you go wrong with a blend of three animals' milks for cheese? I think not.

The hard cheese is a parmigiano reggiano. Simple. Classic. Always great.

The soft cheese on the right of the parmigiano is a triple cream brie. Triple. Cream. Brie.

The big surprise was the blue. We tolerate them. Occasionally, we even like them (particularly if we've had a bit much of the wine). But this one, even without too much wine, was in contention for my favorite cheese on the plate. And E loved it too. To find a blue that is tangy, delicious, rich, complex, clearly a blue, and yet not so stinky as to evoke the locker-room memories -- well, I call that success. To have it be one of the best cheeses on the plate? That's nothing short of a cheese miracle, I tell you.

So, the 4 cheeses were winners. But the side items to dress the cheese were even more amazing.

Look closely -- the one in the middle? Yes, that's a local honeycomb. How cool is that? And delicious!

The left? That's blood orange preserves without sugar. It was perfect with cheese but would be terrible as a simple preserve on its own. I don't know if I've ever enjoyed a preserve that was clearly made with the intention of being served with cheese but would be terrible with anything else--what a pleasure to enjoy the tang and avoid the extra sugar!

And on the right? The preserved local cherries? I could have eaten a pound, no problem.

In short, we had one of the best meals we've had all year, the dining room was *extremely* well run, the service was polite, unpretentious, and attentive, and the total price was so pleasant that we were disappointed we couldn't come back the next night. We agreed -- this is the best bang for the buck meal we'd eaten since dining in rural Italy in 2001.

So, quick, we beseech you, plan a trip to the central coast of California and hit up the Gardens of Avila.

Pasadena's Good Eats

R, J & I had the pleasure of a celebratory meal at Bistro 45.

We showed up at 5:30 -- they weren't really ready to seat folks but treated us extremely graciously and made us comfortable until our server was ready for us.

We all had salads, each of which were delicious, 2 house salads, and my beet and goat cheese salad (mmm... I swear, I order at least one of these each week during spring... I love beets, and I love goat cheese, how can I resist?)

R loves rose´s, and since it was her big day, we ordered one of their inspired selections, The Jacaman 2006 vin gris de pinot noir -- probably my favorite rose that I've ever tasted (of course, it's sold out!).

Our entre´es were all amazing. J is a vegetarian, so he ordered the Baked Polenta with Fennel ratatouille, fondue of spinach and Sonoma goat cheese. We were blown away with the presentation (of course, J is throwing signs, perhaps to compensate for his non-blood-thirsty vegetarian ways?):



R ordered the trout, and it came so delicately prepared that I couldn't believe it was the same fish I ate growing up camping -- not a single bone to be found, so moist, so well-pared, and, most-importantly, so not-fishy.

I ordered the ahi and salmon tartar. It was excellent and had the extra-special bonus of being the right size to leave room for dessert.



For dessert, R ordered the crème brule´e en cage. Damn. First, it came with a celebratory message on the plate for R's graduation and a candle -- such adorable service on a Saturday night for under-dressed patrons without a reservation.

Plus, the cookies with which the dessert was served were so good that R later admitted she almost didn't share. It wasn't 'til the final bite of the oatmeal flour cinammon heaven cookie that she finally realized she wanted to *talk* about how good it was, and in order to do so she'd have to let us have a bite, so she grudgingly handed us each a small morsel. Amazing!

The only slightly below-average offering was the cheese plate. The blue cheese was a huge ball of salt. The cow's milk cheese was just okay, as was the sheep's milk. But the dessert was amazing and the coffee was perfect, so just skip the cheese and you'll be thrilled with the entire experience.

Overall, I was very impressed and sincerely enjoyed the meal: ambiance--great, service--friendly and excited to share the celebration for R's graduation with us, wine selection--impressive, food--delicious, pricing--great value (approximately $77/pp including generous tip for a leisurely meal of 2 amazing courses each, a shared dessert, a cheese course, an excellent bottle of wine, and 3 coffees).

Sonoma Wine and Food Weekend

Because E's sister, her fiance, and the sisters had raved so much about their meal, on December 14, I called Cyrus to see if E & I could get a table for Valentine's dinner. Success! I reserved two free rooms we'd earned in Hyatt points and our plans were set for the long weekend.

Fortuitously, I've been working entirely too much lately. I've taken several conference calls 'til midnight and often have been rising before 5 to start work. So, a long weekend to reconnect with E in wine country was just what the doctor ordered.

Plus, on Friday, the IT department of my law firm saw fit to break email at 5 PM. Sweet! I was off the hook for the entire weekend by 5 PM (except today). Thanks IT!

So, after arriving, instead of finishing work, E and I headed down to the complimentary wine tasting with Simi Winery. Their wines were okay, except they were free, so, of course, like all gifts, they were quite wonderful. The chardonnay was not my style (but they usually aren't -- too buttery). But I had a perfectly pleasant glass of sauvignon blanc, while E enjoyed the cabernet sauvignon. They even served us an appetizer of asian chicken on endive with fried rice noodles. How great is that?

From there, we headed to the hotel bar and ordered two lovely glasses of wine to go with the charcuterie plate (mmm... salamis, cheeses and nuts. What's not to like?) One of the best things about wine country is that even the random hotel bar will have 20 excellent wines by the glass. This bar even had 2.5 ounce pours so you could try more options if you like. My pinot was excellent and E's big red explosion of a wine was exactly what he was looking for.

After lounging a bit, we headed to an early dinner at the restaurant attached to the hotel. It was everything we like a hotel restaurant to be. Close. Good food and service. Unpretentious, but nice enough to have foods that feel like special occasion treats. Not super-expensive.

I devoured my oysters, they were perfectly cleaned and pre-separated from the shell, which meant I had to share. I love the little suckers so much that I'll shuck 'em myself and deal with the sand for the privilege, but E is a bit more picky. We sat and enjoyed our meals (steak for E, salmon over red pepper coulis for me) and slowly caught up over a bottle of delicious local pinot noir. There was still wine left after dinner, so we ordered the cheese plate. Mmmm.... more cheese. Then coffee. Then a lazy night in the hotel bed watching the latest Bond movie. Mmmm... relaxing.

Saturday was more of the same, only bigger.

We finally left the hotel around noon to head out for cheese, nuts, and chocolate paired with delicious wines served by the Williamson family (that would be the first wine club we joined).

From there, we had a lunch of small servings of family recipes of Italian food and a family history tour with wine at Seghesio (that would be the second wine club we joined). If you are going to go to Seghesio, call ahead and reserve the wine and food pairing. We bypassed a tasting room of at least 50 guests in exchange for a one-on-one conversation with the 5th generation family member and daughter of the winemaker (thanks Alison!), as well as some history from Rachel Ann Seghesio, an adorable 70-year-old woman with pictures to show, stories to tell, and a ton of spunk.

We very much enjoyed both of these wine-tasting experiences and we pleased that they were smaller, less thronged, and just generally relaxing, which is something we often fear we will miss while trying to wine-taste with the crowds in Sonoma or Napa.

From there, we did the pure relaxation thing (hot tub, steam room, massage, reading) for a few hours until it was time for the big event.

Cyrus -- it was everything we were told, and more

Our dinner at Cyrus was nothing short of phenomenal. As much as I love Chez TJ, it pales in many ways compared to Cyrus, and if Cyrus is an example of a two-star michelin restaurant, then, I must agree with the recent downgrade of Chez TJ to one star (of course, my experience with two-starred Manresa was much worse than any Chez TJ visit, so perhaps of course the michelin stars don't really mean anything).

The service at Cyrus is dedicated -- you can tell they are *all* very committed to making sure that your evening is amazing. I'm not certain I've ever experienced that level of concern and care about my meal before. Not even at the French Laundry. It is very obvious that Cyrus has something to prove (in a good way) and is trying its very best to get its third michelin star and/or just to become the equal of the Laundry in the eyes of the foodies who come to the region.

The food is excellent, and I can see why E's sister and fiance said it was the best meal of their life. It was definitely one of the best meals I've ever had. In terms of quality and presentation, it is on par with everything we've ever had. In comparison with the French Laundry, the care in ingredient selection, preparation, plating, and balance was quite similar except that there was a stronger asian influence in many of the ingredient selections at Cyrus, whereas French Laundry seemed to stay within more of the traditional continental ingredient list on our visit.

We did the full 8-course tasting menu (which totals 11 courses including all the teasers and palate cleansers), E ate every speck, and I finished everything except the Quince Riesling Soup (below the Verjus Sorbet). When we left we were pleasantly full, but not uncomfortable. The food was rich, but balanced at all times, which is an area where Chez TJ occasionally falters on the side of the overly rich (not that we really mind...).

My favorite course was a line of 4 or 5 gnocchi alternated with carmelized brussels sprouts, parsley root and topped with black truffle pecorino, plated on a rectangular plate with a brilliant green sauce line drawn below. E's favorite was the 3 slices of duck breast fanned over maitake mushrooms laid on top of a small rectangular prism of bamboo-cilantro (I think) rice (it was such a pretty shade of light green) which was plated with ponzu. Every course was amazing, truly.

With a little help from the somellier, we selected a bottle of Anthill Farms 2006 Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir that worked quite well with all of the courses. The service kept our glasses at what I have to assume is exactly 4 ounces throughout the meal. This had the odd side effect of making it very apparent when I poured the remainder of my wine into E's glass after the cheese course. No one said anything, they just whisked away my empty glass and asked if we would like coffee, which, of course, I did, and they brought it to me to enjoy while E finished the wine.

I think the highest compliment we can give it is this: we would be happy to return to Cyrus in the near future and look forward to the opportunity. In contrast, Michael Mina and the French Laundry are excellent experiences that we are glad we had, but we have no plans to return to them anytime soon, we'd rather search for a new and different experience.

Finally, we had brunch on Sunday with friends at The Girl and The Fig. The ambiance is warm (there is a fire) friendly, polite (despite our late arrival causing them to hold a 6-person table longer than they should have had to), and the food was wonderful -- a little on the heavy side, but that's what brunch is supposed to be, no? Plus, it was what we needed to soak up the wine we went to taste afterward.

In terms of Sunday's tasting -- it was mediocre in terms of wine, but a great way to spend the day with friends.

Jacuzzi winery is gorgeous, but it was thronged with folks for the olive tasting event. They have an olive press and several olive oils available for tasting. On a less crowded day, I suspect I would have enjoyed this one more and probably would have stayed to taste wine.

Next, we hit up Viansa Winery, which, like Jacuzzi is a beautiful setting and building. If it hadn't been raining, we likely would have bought a bottle and sat on the porch sipping it while looking at the hills and vines. But, due to the rain, we had to stay indoors, and due to the holiday weekend, they were quite crowded as well.

Finally, on our way out, we stopped at Roche Winery. Their building is older, the wine tasting room is simply that (very few displays of fancy food products and supplies), and the crowd was much smaller. Also, they had a fireplace with a nice warm fire. In terms of ambiance, this was the winner of the day. Their cabernet was probably the group's favorite wine of the day's tasting, but none of us took any home due to the price point.

Laja

The culinary shining star of our trip was our visit to Laja.

The reviews are mixed, but I was pleased to find that I disagreed with those who had negative things to say and we all enjoyed ourselves to the fullest.

First, you drive a lazy, slow, picturesque (for the most part) hour from Ensenada, through the commercial fishing town of El Sauzal and up through the mountains on the Ruta del Vino (aka Mex 3 towards tecate).

Then, you arrive, abruptly at the restaurant, a sign on the freeway simple says "LAJA" and points to the left. Off the road, you turn through the entrance to park in front a white hacienda style building with huge rosemary plants and a cactus garden framing the stairs to the front door. Because we were early, we walked through the orchards and let the front-yard garden entertain us as Nish identified all the trees and the rest of us took turns identifying the items in the garden (E and I had fun comparing their rows of squash and zucchini to our one plant).

When you enter, you are greeted immediately by a friendly Spanish-looking man who gives you your selection of the available tables. The decor is open and airy. Vaulted ceilings, windows galore, each facing different gardens, vines, or hills, and the furniture was simple but gorgeous rough wood tables and chairs, stained to a medium dark polish. If we ever have a house with space for a large dining table, I'd like the one in the middle of that room -- it looked so focused on feeding.

The napkins and plates are all white, the glasswear clear and sturdier than you'd get at a restaurant of this quality in the U.S, and the cutlery was equally practical, including the well-balanced Laguiole steak knife with the tell-tale fly at the pressure point.

After perusing the paper menu (printed with a computer and stapled together), we all opted for the Chef's tasting menu. 8 courses. No amuse bouches or palate cleansers. Additionally, the a la carte menu contained only 2 additional courses that you could choose from, so why bother?

This place is much more rustic than some of the write-ups would lead you to believe. It is on a dirt road. It is relatively small. The wine list is mainly (if not entirely, I didn't spend too much time reading it as I opted for the wine pairing and let the experts decide) made up of local Valle de Guadalupe selections. There are no easily recognizable big name (and big price tag) wines.

The plating is perfectly gorgeous, both in visual presentation of the food as well as selection of the type of geometric (although never garishly so) dish to use. The service is informal, but pleasant and responsive, and we were never wanting for anything.

The sparse (but natural and well-matched to the surrounding nature) decor, as well as the minimalism in the food offerings and the commitment to local wine are the types of things, I suspect, that have led to the mixed reviews. The Chef comes from a four seasons and San Francisco big name restaurant background. If you come looking for that same experience, you will likely be disappointed.

But, if you are looking for an amazing, fresh meal experience that displays the character of northern baja, look no further.

The Tasting Menu

-Beet Gazpacho with thin slices of steamed crabapples floating on top (or very tart apples of some sort, or perhaps pickled apples) (paired with a local white that wasn't particularly memorable).

-Field greens (grown out front) and yellow pear and red cherry tomatoes (grown out back) in a simple vinaigrette (paired with a better white than the first, a slightly heavier chenin blanc and sauvignon blanc blend, I believe).

-Homemade wide flat noodles topped with a simple sauce of olive oil, a hint of garlic, mandolin-sliced and perfectly cooked fresh light green zucchini (from the front garden), and small specks of a bright green herb that had very little taste (I will be trying to make this one with some of our basil). This course was the favorite of half of the group (and was paired with a delicious Monte Xanic chenin blanc colombard blend)

-4 small Fresh tuna slices over a tart bright green sauce (paired with a sweet cool sangiovese rosé)

-Filet of cod with the skin on over a deliciously light potato puree (paired with a very light merlot, served chilled).

-A light, very juicy lamb preparation of 1 rib, two quarter-sized medalions, and a slightly spiced stewed preparation. (paired with a blend of cabernet sauvignon and another grape -- perhaps tempranillo?)

-3 sorbets. One carrot-orange, the other two unidentifiable blends of local fruits.

-Delicious light vanilla ice milk with an apricot tart -- ahhh, the amazing mexican pastry tradition meets the French in this dessert. This was my favorite course. And I don't even like apricots that much and I rarely love dessert. But this just was the epitome of the taste of summer vacation to end a perfectly languid 2.5 hour meal with friends.

The unexpected overages of vacation

So, we're back.

The bathroom scale is, as I like to call it, wrong, again. See, I'm over my 10 lb. range. So, we'll be feasting on vegetable-heavy soups for a few weeks 'til I'm back in the happy zone and the scale gets right. But really, if you don't gain weight on vacation, you didn't do it properly -- that's what I always say.

I expected the weight overage. What I didn't expect were the other kinds.

I just finished entering my mileage into my running log and I was shocked to realize that the week of the marathon, thanks to all of the tourist walking, I put 53 miles on my feet. Since I started religiously keeping track of my mileage in 2004, I've NEVER done more than 50 miles in a week. In fact, I've done only 5 weeks over 40 miles in that time, and none of them were weeks when I did marathons (you know, when I was supposed to be tapering). So yeah, just another reason to consider a marathon run on vacation as an experience and nothing where you should be shooting for a PR.

If you are like us, when you vacation you walk EVERYWHERE. It's just the best way to get to know a city, the countryside, and the world. Plus, it's relaxing. But, apparently, it can add up, even when you think you aren't running as much as you should be.

Also, there's another hilarious story about unexpected overage from our trip that hails from our last night in Taipei. We were tired from a day of much walking: first from our hotel, to eat delicious xiao long bao at Din Tai Fung, then to see and make a small offering at the Longshan Temple, and then getting lost on our way to The Royal Bali Health Center on Kunming St. where, I had the best 90 minute whole body massage of my entire life.

This amazing massage was followed by a 40 minute reflexology treatment, which hurt, but did my marathon-battered feet and calves a world of good. I suspect I will spend the rest of my life in search of a massage to rival this one. The therapist spoke no English, and me, no Mandarin, so I couldn't even gather what style of massage it was, where he trained, how I could seek it out again, or anything -- it resembled the (now) second best massage of my life (floor shiatsu, from a very stereotypical Japanese man in Playa del Carmen, of all places) in many ways, but was on a table, involved just as much stretching, as well as adjustments, and more active massage and not just pressure points, plus it was through pajama like shorts and a wrap as well as a sheet, and he clearly had freedom to modify because he focused on my post-marathon IT bands instinctively, spending more time on my left, which, historically is my tighter side. Oh, my legs were so much better after he was done. Heaven, I tell you.

And, the institution did not appear to accept tips, which, sadly, I hope I correctly interepreted, because damn, if anyone's massage services were ever worth a huge tip, it was my buddy therapist #10, whose card I have, whose name I repeated when he gave it to me, but have since lost (and, of course, it's written in Hanzi on his card, so I couldn't tell you his name if I tried).

Anyways, after the full day of walking, we planned to do an easy quick dinner, close to our hotel, so we could return to the room, pack up, and sleep before getting into a cab by 6 AM to begin the long multi-modal trip home consisting of a cab ride to Taipei airport, a 3-hour 737 to Narita, a bus between terminal 2 and terminal 1 of Narita (that comes only once an HOUR between 1 pm and 2 pm! Japan, why hast thou and thy perfect efficiency forsaken me? I was so confused!), people movers, a stop at the connections desk in terminal 1 to check into our flight to SFO, a 9+ hour 747 to SFO, immigration, baggage claim, customs, bart to millbrae, caltrain, and then a 1.5 mile walk with our rolling luggage home. And, of course, to further fuck us up, despite the passed time and 3 meals, given the time change, technically, we arrived home 6 hours after we left the hotel in Taipei and just in time for lunch.

Life, however, had other plans for our night than the mellow early to bed option.

We ended up choosing a teppanyaki joint within walking distance of the hotel, and we were seated at one of the grills next to an empty seat with its own bottle of wine, and a woman and man enjoying teppanyaki. E surreptitiously pointed to the empty seat whispering in my ear, "I wonder who the tough guy is who ordered his own bottle of wine to go along with his tea?"

Later, tough guy came and sat at the grill, briefly joining the other two. They conversed in Mandarin. E and I conversed in English. It became apparent that the other man (the non-1-bottle-wonder) was an American-style speaker of English, but also spoke Mandarin. At one point, it became apparent that he was trying to explain my shirt to them (an inside joke T-shirt from law school designed by the lovely A).

I leaned in to laugh with E about being in a foreign country and being identified as foreigners, where they think they can talk about you without you knowing. But you always know, even if you don't speak the language. We smiled. We enjoyed our meal. I made some disparaging comments about my horrid soup and sent it back only 1/4 eaten (for me, a rarity), but I complimented the gorgeous dishes (Noritake, I was later informed).

Eventually, Mr. 1-man-wine-bottle left again, for the third or fourth time (I presumed he was a chain-smoker) and in his absence, the American-speaking man finally addressed us. We introduced ourselves to him and his female friend. We talked about the food. We talked about our common experiences -- his as an immigrant American educated in our country, ours as natural born citizens. They seemed shocked that we opted to come to Taipei on vacation (not business), and even more shocked that we found it more comfortable, culturally, than Japan. Finally, they were embarrassed when we offered to explain my shirt...

And then, sake arrived. It turned out that Mr. 1-man-wine-bottle owned the restaurant. You can imagine where this goes....

Thankfully, no one heard (or was rude enough to point out) my disparaging comments about the soup, and, when the American asked before the sake arrived and we knew that his friend owned the joint, I had truthfully reviewed the rest of the meal (and the gorgeous dishes) with honest appreciation. Boy, when he told me that he was best friends with Mr. 1-man-bottle-owner, and that the gorgeous woman to his left was the owner's wife, with a B.A. from University of Toronto and, thus, more than fluent in English, it sure made me think about how open I am with my review of food when I eat out and glad that the food in this joint was relatively good. It had, before that moment, honestly never occurred to me that I could be eating next to the owner of a restaurant, or his wife and best friend from childhood.

Over the next two hours, we chatted about Taiwan politics, evolution of the relationship with China, our impressions of Taipei, their upcoming visit to California -- all while the four of us (without Mr. wine-owner) shared 3 small bottles of sake on the house, including the last one, served over my objections, but much to the pleasure of E when the owner offered it with a smile as his "best stuff, gold label." During this time, the owner finished his first bottle of wine all to himself and then, much to our surprise, opened and finished bottle 2 solo as well. Finally, just before midnight, we watched him close up shop and following their lead, we left the mall where the restaurant was located through the service entrance, which involved us going through the men's restroom when Mr. 2-bottles thought it would be a good idea for him to just stop in and, you know, use the facilities. What the hell? We were very confused. Was this actually the way to the exit or just some elaborate joke that was being played on us?

But no, apparently, culturally, it's just fine to meet people, treat them to sake, invite them into your restaurant's restroom, pee within earshot of your wife and the female guest, and then heard them into your car. We could not turn down his offer to drive us to our hotel because the only way to leave was through the garage (or so we were told, and as visitors who don't know cultural norms and can't read, or speak, what did we know?). Thankfully, our hotel was across the street.

If the sake and wine-soaked stories are to be believed, they will all be here in California (meeting up again all the way from Taipei and Florida for the American) in 2 weeks. If they reach out to us, I suspect we will be hosting them to a long dinner and more amusing cross-cultural conversation and entirely too much alcohol. Stay tuned for more stories...

Truly, it's random experiences like these that are the types of things that make me travel. I think, in some ways, I learned more about Taiwanese culture, American culture, myself, the concept of the idea of "foreign" and humanity, and just how wacky the world can be with that one experience than I had in the entire year prior.

But, in hindsight, the funniest thing to me, was that during the whole interchange, I thought we could leave at any time. I was scared E's eagerness to accept the offered gifts of more sake were rude. I kept trying to thank the owner and be sure that no one thought we were overstepping our bounds, in typical American fashion. It seemed to me, that the wife and friend wanted to go, and that our acceptance of offered gifts might be impeding their departure. It was only after we left that I realized that after we paid the bill, the staff shut down the restaurant. For the next two hours, we really were there as guests, and sort of kidnapped, trapped, at the will of the owner of the restaurant, because the mall was closed, the lights were out, and there was no way to get out without the authorized access key, which, of course, we did not have.

Needless to say, the extra sake and awake hours did not help with the next day's early flight. But then again, it was worth it for the story and I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

Cheers to unexpected travel overage in all of its forms.