Last Thursday, I was treated to the pleasant aroma of freshly brewed coffee while walking up the stairs to my office. And I realized, while I was in Chicago, the Starbuck,Aeos machines had been installed in my building. Happy, happy day!
With the click of four buttons and about a minute, beans are ground, brewed and the resulting liquid poured into a cup. The machine also makes fairly decent cocoa and of course, produces hot water. The coffee is a huge improvement over the liquuid produced by the previously supplied industrial coffee pots (which I made the mistake of drinking exactly twice).
When my office door is open, between the melodic waterfall sounds of flushing toilets in the men,Aeos restroom, I hear the gentle clicks of the Starbuck,Aeos coffee machines and the caffeinated chatter of happy colleagues.
Monday, October 30, 2006
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Chicago, Chicago...
My second business trip to Chicago in six months was for a conference. In terms of conference food, not much needs to be said beyond the fact that it was ,Aeubleah,Ae?. Not the worst conference food ever, but not the best; my group maintains an official company blog, so they have been treated to all of my snarky comments about the conference, speakers, content, etc. As an aside, it was kind of interesting to see a former competitor in action and to run into a former client (who was just as schizoid with them as he was with us). And, the conference was somewhat interesting, so the trip was at least worth it from a lessons learned perspective.
On a personal level, Chicago was very nice as well. I was able to see my Great-Uncle Chester and Great-Aunt Helen, always a treat. They,Aeove been married for 67 years, an absolutely mind boggling amount of time. Chester and I went to dinner and Helen gave me some shoes. I hope that I,Aeom able to get to Chicago and see them again, before...
I managed to catch the Hotel Amalfi happy hour (which is one of my favorite hotels EVER, excellent breakfast pastries and coffee); they provided a decent selection of wine and beer and great Italian cold cuts ,Aei prosciutto, other hams, cheeses, some grilled veggies. Also, in one of those ,Aeuwow,Ae? moments, someone from a group invited me to join (I had been sitting by myself, eating, enjoying my glass of syrah, thinking about what to write in my work blog posts) and I ended up spending some time with the youngish and fun lawyers, all of whom came from other areas and had New Orleans in common. Some had survived Hurricane Katrina, a sobering event that they referred to with a tone of having dealt with and now moving on.
Later, I met up with Dave, a former colleague, now a suave and handsome grad student happily enjoying the challenges of business school. We went to Shaw,Aeos, a prototypical Chicago restaurant with leather booths, wood paneling and a giant menu of old world favorites. We split a dozen oysters, our favorite by far were the Raspberry Point (crassostrea virginica) from Prince Edward Island, which were on the smaller end, light, crisp and tangy, our second favorites the Blashke Island (crassostrea gigas) from Alaska, also on the smaller end. I have no idea what the words in parenthesis indicate, since Dave took the menu and e-mailed the names to me; I,Aeom assuming that they are the ,Aeuscientific,Ae? classifications, but could also be a joke on Dave,Aeos part (let's see how gullible Schelley is!). The crab cakes were very delicious, with huge chunks of crab. A bottle of Australian sauvignon blanc (as usual, can,Aeot remember the name, but it opened up so well and tasted of pears and melon and other summery fruits) went very well with the meal, especially the oysters.
It turns out that Nilay and I crossed paths in Chicago, specifically at the intersection of the B and C terminals of O,AeoHare airport. I was flying out, he was flying in and our worlds collided (we,Aeod actually figured this out the night before, but I have to admit that the sentence sounds a bit dramatic). In a sign of what our lives are like, this is the second time in about a year that I,Aeove met up with a friend at the airport as we were leaving/arriving (the other time was with Greg, which I blogged about and would link to, but it,Aeos on the server that is unplugged in someone,Aeos garage in London). Anyways,AePafter receiving precise directions from the help lady, and then confusing her (again, Nilay, what were you thinking?), we trekked from Terminal 1 to Terminal 3, to the K1 gate, to dine at O,AeoHare,Aeos Wolfgang Puck restaurant. At any other place, I would have deemed the restaurant ,Aeuok,Ae?, but for an airport, it wasn,Aeot bad. I had a Caesar salad and salmon, Nilay tortilla soup and chicken, and we split a bottle of cab and sorbet for dessert. Life, indeed.
On a personal level, Chicago was very nice as well. I was able to see my Great-Uncle Chester and Great-Aunt Helen, always a treat. They,Aeove been married for 67 years, an absolutely mind boggling amount of time. Chester and I went to dinner and Helen gave me some shoes. I hope that I,Aeom able to get to Chicago and see them again, before...
I managed to catch the Hotel Amalfi happy hour (which is one of my favorite hotels EVER, excellent breakfast pastries and coffee); they provided a decent selection of wine and beer and great Italian cold cuts ,Aei prosciutto, other hams, cheeses, some grilled veggies. Also, in one of those ,Aeuwow,Ae? moments, someone from a group invited me to join (I had been sitting by myself, eating, enjoying my glass of syrah, thinking about what to write in my work blog posts) and I ended up spending some time with the youngish and fun lawyers, all of whom came from other areas and had New Orleans in common. Some had survived Hurricane Katrina, a sobering event that they referred to with a tone of having dealt with and now moving on.
Later, I met up with Dave, a former colleague, now a suave and handsome grad student happily enjoying the challenges of business school. We went to Shaw,Aeos, a prototypical Chicago restaurant with leather booths, wood paneling and a giant menu of old world favorites. We split a dozen oysters, our favorite by far were the Raspberry Point (crassostrea virginica) from Prince Edward Island, which were on the smaller end, light, crisp and tangy, our second favorites the Blashke Island (crassostrea gigas) from Alaska, also on the smaller end. I have no idea what the words in parenthesis indicate, since Dave took the menu and e-mailed the names to me; I,Aeom assuming that they are the ,Aeuscientific,Ae? classifications, but could also be a joke on Dave,Aeos part (let's see how gullible Schelley is!). The crab cakes were very delicious, with huge chunks of crab. A bottle of Australian sauvignon blanc (as usual, can,Aeot remember the name, but it opened up so well and tasted of pears and melon and other summery fruits) went very well with the meal, especially the oysters.
It turns out that Nilay and I crossed paths in Chicago, specifically at the intersection of the B and C terminals of O,AeoHare airport. I was flying out, he was flying in and our worlds collided (we,Aeod actually figured this out the night before, but I have to admit that the sentence sounds a bit dramatic). In a sign of what our lives are like, this is the second time in about a year that I,Aeove met up with a friend at the airport as we were leaving/arriving (the other time was with Greg, which I blogged about and would link to, but it,Aeos on the server that is unplugged in someone,Aeos garage in London). Anyways,AePafter receiving precise directions from the help lady, and then confusing her (again, Nilay, what were you thinking?), we trekked from Terminal 1 to Terminal 3, to the K1 gate, to dine at O,AeoHare,Aeos Wolfgang Puck restaurant. At any other place, I would have deemed the restaurant ,Aeuok,Ae?, but for an airport, it wasn,Aeot bad. I had a Caesar salad and salmon, Nilay tortilla soup and chicken, and we split a bottle of cab and sorbet for dessert. Life, indeed.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
$40 for an Entree
Interesting article in today's NY Times about entrees at mid-tier restaurants reaching $40. The cost of food - particularly those not easy to get (organic farmers can produce only so much of our food supply) - plus increasing rents, labor, and other restaurant costs, factor into the rising costs. Some lament the expense, but I suspect that most accept the prices without much more than a "that's the cost of fine dining".
The first thing to point out is that, well, life is expensive, especially in certain geographic locations, such as New York, San Francisco, Chicago, Vegas, etc.
But more importantly, and missed by the article, is that cooking is expensive. And time consuming. Hosting a dinner party for a group of friends can easily exceed $100, not to mention the time required to make the meal. (Please do not read this as a complaint - if I didn't enjoy designing a menu, scouring the farmer's market and grocery store for ingredients and constructing the meal, I would never invite anyone over). When, not if, I pay $40 for an entree (and I know that I have paid close, if not that amount in the past), I expect that the same degree of time, effort and expense (if not more, since I don't do some things from scratch, like broth or pasta) went into creating the meal for me in the restaurant that I would have at home.
I recently read an article in the New Yorker, which pointed out that the cost of a restaurant meal has not kept up with inflation, and in fact, dining out now is cheaper than it was 40 years ago (also a time when far fewer people dined out). Factor in employee salaries, hopefully a livable wage, rent, building upkeep, insurance to protect against the crazies looking to sue, etc and it's actually surprising that $40 entrees haven't yet hit the market in greater numbers.
I do wonder - did the NY Times article stem from an editor who just noticed the price of entrees and made his reporter write a story that's not really a story? In my former career, I had at least one call a month with a reporter who would say "I know that this really isn't a story, but my editor think it is and I'm being forced to write". It's highly likely that the $40 entree is not necessarily new, but is now news, and it certainly didn't happen overnight.
Best quote at the end of the story: ,AeuYour $40 plate?,Ae? Mr. Zagat said. ,AeuIt comes with a $20 first course.,Ae?
Well, duh.
The first thing to point out is that, well, life is expensive, especially in certain geographic locations, such as New York, San Francisco, Chicago, Vegas, etc.
But more importantly, and missed by the article, is that cooking is expensive. And time consuming. Hosting a dinner party for a group of friends can easily exceed $100, not to mention the time required to make the meal. (Please do not read this as a complaint - if I didn't enjoy designing a menu, scouring the farmer's market and grocery store for ingredients and constructing the meal, I would never invite anyone over). When, not if, I pay $40 for an entree (and I know that I have paid close, if not that amount in the past), I expect that the same degree of time, effort and expense (if not more, since I don't do some things from scratch, like broth or pasta) went into creating the meal for me in the restaurant that I would have at home.
I recently read an article in the New Yorker, which pointed out that the cost of a restaurant meal has not kept up with inflation, and in fact, dining out now is cheaper than it was 40 years ago (also a time when far fewer people dined out). Factor in employee salaries, hopefully a livable wage, rent, building upkeep, insurance to protect against the crazies looking to sue, etc and it's actually surprising that $40 entrees haven't yet hit the market in greater numbers.
I do wonder - did the NY Times article stem from an editor who just noticed the price of entrees and made his reporter write a story that's not really a story? In my former career, I had at least one call a month with a reporter who would say "I know that this really isn't a story, but my editor think it is and I'm being forced to write". It's highly likely that the $40 entree is not necessarily new, but is now news, and it certainly didn't happen overnight.
Best quote at the end of the story: ,AeuYour $40 plate?,Ae? Mr. Zagat said. ,AeuIt comes with a $20 first course.,Ae?
Well, duh.
Theater + Dining = Teatro Zinzanni
I've heard about Teatro Zinzanni for years - it's in San Francisco, but was always one of those "someday I may get to it" type of things. I finally got to it, in Seattle, when Char sent out an invite for a Theater of Puget Sound Live Theater week kick-off and fundraiser.
Before talking about the food and experience (because Teatro Zinzanni, or TZ, is an experience), it's worth noting a few of the tidbits that I found out about Seattle and the acting community. Over 100 theater groups exist in the Puget Sound Area, 136 to be exact. Someone noted that Seattle is one of the only cities in which an actor can actually earn a living acting; the cominbation of theaters and strong community support make this situation possible. Although, I do wonder how long this will continue, considering the rapidly rising cost of living (and case in point, my neighbor Curtis, also an actor, works a day job). A few days later, Curtis told me that Seattle is among the top three cities for those in the arts (New York and Chicago are the other two). And I was especially happy to have supported TPS, when he talked about the amount of support the group gives to actors. I had absolutely no idea - but can say I'm extremely proud to be a resident in this city and am going to take advantage as much as possible. (Case in point, last night I attended The Whore of Texas at the tiny and very cool Theater Schmeater, right in my neighborhood).
So, about my night at TZ. It is true dinner theater - the actors mingle with the audience at every possible moment, not only just socializing, but pulling audience members onto the figurative stage (set amongst the tables) to be lettuce or help make a movie or something they dream up. It is unusual, fun and highly entertaining. Richard was particulaly liked at our table - I believe his head may have been fondled more than once. Entertainment, wrapped around a not particularly clever story, is a combination of song, juggling, acrobatics, and humor. I particularly liked the three french guys at the end - their combination acrobatic/dance act was highly entertaining, and their finale had me catching my breath.
About the food. The most important thing to keep in mind is that Seattle's hero chef, Tom Douglas, designs the menu. The next most important thing to know is that a wine course is also available, of which I must say, the som did an excellent job of pairing great wines with each course. The food:
First course: Crostini with olive tapenade, goat cheese mouse, melon and figs.
Second course: Orechiette pasta and broccolini, spiced with red pepper flakes and a very heavy dose of garlic. I wish that I could remember which wine we had (I stared at the menu trying to memorize the name, but alas, it's gone). What I do know is that the wine perfectly complemented the spiciness of the dish...
Third course: Smoked trout, accompanied with cucumber panna cotta and sweet vermouth sauce. This was my favorite course. The slightly tart panna cotta perfectly complemented the smoked trout, and the vermouth sauce added a nice balance of sweet.
Fourth, or Main course: I chose steak, with very excellent garlic mashed potatoes and a few fried onions and fresh, bright green beans coated in butter. The steak was ok; it was a hangar steak, but had been sitting for a bit too long before being served, and just did not live up to the standards of the rest of the meal. The pinot was quite tasty. Now, I wish that I had gone with the salmon.
Dessert: Wow. A generously sized cup of something was placed in front of me. Digging in, I discovered a creamy lime mousse covered with a beautifully browned and thick dollop of meringue. Digging deeper, I found a hazlenut cookie at the bottom. And what may have been mistaken as a cup holding the entire thing together was actually a thick band of white chocolate. Again, wow. It was one of the most perfect composed desserts I've had in a long time, with an excellent balance of sweet and slightly tart.
I'm now wondering - how did the pastry chef manage to brown the meringue without melting the white chocolate? And how did those French guys not manage to kill themselves? The mysteries of TZ...
Before talking about the food and experience (because Teatro Zinzanni, or TZ, is an experience), it's worth noting a few of the tidbits that I found out about Seattle and the acting community. Over 100 theater groups exist in the Puget Sound Area, 136 to be exact. Someone noted that Seattle is one of the only cities in which an actor can actually earn a living acting; the cominbation of theaters and strong community support make this situation possible. Although, I do wonder how long this will continue, considering the rapidly rising cost of living (and case in point, my neighbor Curtis, also an actor, works a day job). A few days later, Curtis told me that Seattle is among the top three cities for those in the arts (New York and Chicago are the other two). And I was especially happy to have supported TPS, when he talked about the amount of support the group gives to actors. I had absolutely no idea - but can say I'm extremely proud to be a resident in this city and am going to take advantage as much as possible. (Case in point, last night I attended The Whore of Texas at the tiny and very cool Theater Schmeater, right in my neighborhood).
So, about my night at TZ. It is true dinner theater - the actors mingle with the audience at every possible moment, not only just socializing, but pulling audience members onto the figurative stage (set amongst the tables) to be lettuce or help make a movie or something they dream up. It is unusual, fun and highly entertaining. Richard was particulaly liked at our table - I believe his head may have been fondled more than once. Entertainment, wrapped around a not particularly clever story, is a combination of song, juggling, acrobatics, and humor. I particularly liked the three french guys at the end - their combination acrobatic/dance act was highly entertaining, and their finale had me catching my breath.
About the food. The most important thing to keep in mind is that Seattle's hero chef, Tom Douglas, designs the menu. The next most important thing to know is that a wine course is also available, of which I must say, the som did an excellent job of pairing great wines with each course. The food:
First course: Crostini with olive tapenade, goat cheese mouse, melon and figs.
Second course: Orechiette pasta and broccolini, spiced with red pepper flakes and a very heavy dose of garlic. I wish that I could remember which wine we had (I stared at the menu trying to memorize the name, but alas, it's gone). What I do know is that the wine perfectly complemented the spiciness of the dish...
Third course: Smoked trout, accompanied with cucumber panna cotta and sweet vermouth sauce. This was my favorite course. The slightly tart panna cotta perfectly complemented the smoked trout, and the vermouth sauce added a nice balance of sweet.
Fourth, or Main course: I chose steak, with very excellent garlic mashed potatoes and a few fried onions and fresh, bright green beans coated in butter. The steak was ok; it was a hangar steak, but had been sitting for a bit too long before being served, and just did not live up to the standards of the rest of the meal. The pinot was quite tasty. Now, I wish that I had gone with the salmon.
Dessert: Wow. A generously sized cup of something was placed in front of me. Digging in, I discovered a creamy lime mousse covered with a beautifully browned and thick dollop of meringue. Digging deeper, I found a hazlenut cookie at the bottom. And what may have been mistaken as a cup holding the entire thing together was actually a thick band of white chocolate. Again, wow. It was one of the most perfect composed desserts I've had in a long time, with an excellent balance of sweet and slightly tart.
I'm now wondering - how did the pastry chef manage to brown the meringue without melting the white chocolate? And how did those French guys not manage to kill themselves? The mysteries of TZ...
Friday, October 13, 2006
A Donut for Your Thoughts
When I was a little girl, one of my favorite things was to go to stay overnight at my Nana and Papa Olhava's house. We'd watch Lawrence Welk or football or an old movie (a few years ago, I snatched Some Like it Hot from the Target special shelf simply because I remember watching it with my grandpa and laughing, laughing, laughing). We would eat dinner on TV trays - so novel compared to the monotony of eating at the kitchen table each night with my parents and brother. And in the morning, we'd have breakfast. I suppose that someone (probably Grandpa) went out a few times for donuts, and at a certain point, I associated donuts with spending the night at their house. Because once, I remember leaving when it was dark to go to their house, being asked what I wanted for breakfast and saying "I'd like donuts". Because Nana's mission in life was to spoil her grandchildren (probably payback for the hell my dad put her through during his teen and pre-marriage years), we went to Albertson's and bought donuts.
As an adult, I've tried to stay away from donuts. It's not just the lack of nutrition. Once in college, Ardis wanted donuts and dragged me to Kingpin, where in horror I watched the donut man cook donuts. The process involved dough, sugary glaze and one of the biggest vats of grease I have ever seen in my life. It made me feel very sick. (Ardis also bought a batch of freshly made donut holes from that batch, and may have forced me to eat one.) The feeling sick continues - a donut is a huge mountain of stuff to absorb, just making me feel nauseous once consumed.
Donuts have always figured into my adult life in some form or another. Suzette once brought a box of donuts to a party, but they didn't get eaten. Within a few days, donut juice weeped along the length of the counter, an interesting little scientific experiment. I first had Krispy Kreme in Floria when visiting Aimee and Adam in Panama City years ago. I made a special trip to the first Bay Area Krispy Kreme in Daly City, to wait with the crowds and buy donuts to share with Rob and Jen. I even lived a few blocks from the Krispy Kreme in Mt View.
But at the end of the day, I mostly managed to resist. I avoided all of the office donuts, fended off the lure of Dunkin' Donuts on multiple trips to Boston. Even within the year and a half that i lived within walking distance of Krispy Kreme in heart attack triangle, I stayed away, venturing only three times, twice for donuts and once for coffee. (Note: "heart attack triangle" refers to the shopping center on Rengstorff in Mountain View, which features a Krispy Kreme, McDonald's and In-N-Out, and which, when viewed from above, form a triangle. Technically, the Costco makes it a parallelogram, or some other geometric shape that I know longer need to know, but no need to be technical).
Until about six months ago that is, when my donut walls crumbled into a slag of sprinkles, sugar flakes and donut crumbs.
Seriously, since moving to Seattle, I have consumed more donuts than in the past five years. At least, maybe even longer. Keep in mind, I have only lived in Seattle about six months. Really, Seattle should not be called the Emerald City, it should be called the Donut City. Donuts appear at least every couple of weeks at the team meeting. I live a few blocks from Top Pot, using it as a familiar landmark to describe where I live. I've even been to Top Pot a few times, dragging visitors - it's a Seattle thing.
I've tried protesting that I don't like donuts. But the reality is that donuts are a bundle of deliciousness and my protests are just feeble attempts to convince myself that I don't like them. A few weeks ago, Will described donuts as "a buffet of textures". I'm not sure I'd go that far, but the reality is that donuts are cake covered with frosting, and if the winds are blowing correctly, sprinkles (a weakness). I like cake. I like frosting. The one crucial difference: the addition of grease via the deep frying process. But that just makes the donut even better.
How can I really say no?
As an adult, I've tried to stay away from donuts. It's not just the lack of nutrition. Once in college, Ardis wanted donuts and dragged me to Kingpin, where in horror I watched the donut man cook donuts. The process involved dough, sugary glaze and one of the biggest vats of grease I have ever seen in my life. It made me feel very sick. (Ardis also bought a batch of freshly made donut holes from that batch, and may have forced me to eat one.) The feeling sick continues - a donut is a huge mountain of stuff to absorb, just making me feel nauseous once consumed.
Donuts have always figured into my adult life in some form or another. Suzette once brought a box of donuts to a party, but they didn't get eaten. Within a few days, donut juice weeped along the length of the counter, an interesting little scientific experiment. I first had Krispy Kreme in Floria when visiting Aimee and Adam in Panama City years ago. I made a special trip to the first Bay Area Krispy Kreme in Daly City, to wait with the crowds and buy donuts to share with Rob and Jen. I even lived a few blocks from the Krispy Kreme in Mt View.
But at the end of the day, I mostly managed to resist. I avoided all of the office donuts, fended off the lure of Dunkin' Donuts on multiple trips to Boston. Even within the year and a half that i lived within walking distance of Krispy Kreme in heart attack triangle, I stayed away, venturing only three times, twice for donuts and once for coffee. (Note: "heart attack triangle" refers to the shopping center on Rengstorff in Mountain View, which features a Krispy Kreme, McDonald's and In-N-Out, and which, when viewed from above, form a triangle. Technically, the Costco makes it a parallelogram, or some other geometric shape that I know longer need to know, but no need to be technical).
Until about six months ago that is, when my donut walls crumbled into a slag of sprinkles, sugar flakes and donut crumbs.
Seriously, since moving to Seattle, I have consumed more donuts than in the past five years. At least, maybe even longer. Keep in mind, I have only lived in Seattle about six months. Really, Seattle should not be called the Emerald City, it should be called the Donut City. Donuts appear at least every couple of weeks at the team meeting. I live a few blocks from Top Pot, using it as a familiar landmark to describe where I live. I've even been to Top Pot a few times, dragging visitors - it's a Seattle thing.
I've tried protesting that I don't like donuts. But the reality is that donuts are a bundle of deliciousness and my protests are just feeble attempts to convince myself that I don't like them. A few weeks ago, Will described donuts as "a buffet of textures". I'm not sure I'd go that far, but the reality is that donuts are cake covered with frosting, and if the winds are blowing correctly, sprinkles (a weakness). I like cake. I like frosting. The one crucial difference: the addition of grease via the deep frying process. But that just makes the donut even better.
How can I really say no?
Monday, October 09, 2006
Ground Cherries
A few stalls at Sunday's farmer's market advertised "ground cherries". Afflicted with a hangover and not enough sleep, I ignored, until someone gave me a sample. And then I made a snap decision: I had now found my new favorite fall fruit.
Covered in a paper-like husk, the ground cherry looks suspiciously like a miniature tomatilla. Or a Japanese paper tea lantern. Depending on your perspective. The fruit is easy to eat - peel off the paper and pop in your mouth. It tastes like a cross between a pineapple, cherry and butter. Hard to explain, but utterly delicious. I also like the fact that there aren't any seeds to deal with, and unless you're really out of it, not too much of a mess to eat.
I threw the handful of the fruit in a salad for my first real Seattle Sunday dinner (i.e., not dinner for visiting-from-out-of-town guests). For the record, fresh greens with edible flowers, (also a farmer's market find), ground cherries, gorgonzola and balsamic vinegrette. A perfect combination. I also made Cooks perfect and unique eggplant parmesan; Jill supplied chocolate cupcakes with vanilla frosting for dessert. Among the wines, we consumed a very tasty 2002 Grand Amis (Great Friends) Zin from Graffigna Vineyard, Abacela red table wine, asome Chateau Saint Michelle chardonnay and an excellent Columbia Valley gewurtz (I have Ren to thank for the last two, especially the gewurtz, my all-time favorite dessert wine varietal).
Covered in a paper-like husk, the ground cherry looks suspiciously like a miniature tomatilla. Or a Japanese paper tea lantern. Depending on your perspective. The fruit is easy to eat - peel off the paper and pop in your mouth. It tastes like a cross between a pineapple, cherry and butter. Hard to explain, but utterly delicious. I also like the fact that there aren't any seeds to deal with, and unless you're really out of it, not too much of a mess to eat.
I threw the handful of the fruit in a salad for my first real Seattle Sunday dinner (i.e., not dinner for visiting-from-out-of-town guests). For the record, fresh greens with edible flowers, (also a farmer's market find), ground cherries, gorgonzola and balsamic vinegrette. A perfect combination. I also made Cooks perfect and unique eggplant parmesan; Jill supplied chocolate cupcakes with vanilla frosting for dessert. Among the wines, we consumed a very tasty 2002 Grand Amis (Great Friends) Zin from Graffigna Vineyard, Abacela red table wine, asome Chateau Saint Michelle chardonnay and an excellent Columbia Valley gewurtz (I have Ren to thank for the last two, especially the gewurtz, my all-time favorite dessert wine varietal).
Saturday, October 07, 2006
Fall in in the Air
Fall is in the air.
The leaves are dropping. The days are getting shorter. There is a chill in the air, not quite full-blown winter but close, so close. I haven't turned the heat on yet, but it will happen soon. College football is in full swing. And the fall seasonl beers have arrived in stores.
I've already made one fall purchase, very typical for Seattle: a new raincoat. I last bought a raincoat in 1992, while hanging out with Andi in LA for spring break during our freshman year of college. The raincoat was perfect, considering the need to walk around in the rain to classes. Plus, it was blue and gold. Nearly 15 years later, it was looking a bit ragged and somewhat outdated. When I wore it last May during Tony's visit, i was gently told that it was time to buy a new coat.
Asra and I trekked to REI together. We almost bought the same coats, but then dug around on the sales rack and found cheaper and just as great raincoats, probably last years' model. Several other people were raincoat shopping as well, we all jostled for mirror space and some claimed areas on the racks closest to the mirrors on which to line up their choices. It's just a rain jacket, I thought, but then, Asra and I asked each other repeatedly "what do you think of this one?".
I was warned before moving here that I'd find myself buying things that I never even thought about: a new raincoat, and all-weather shoes. I nodded my head solemnly and thought, "I don't doubt that it won't happen." Already, I've made more trips to REI in six months than in the past 5 years (three, although once was when someone was visiting and wanted to check it out). I know that I'll be on the lookout for all weather shoes, after I make a couple of treks through the rain getting to and from work. And I know that soon, I'll be forced to purchase warmer gym clothes, although I really knew this last February.
The joys of living in a new city: shopping. Fall is indeed in the air.
The leaves are dropping. The days are getting shorter. There is a chill in the air, not quite full-blown winter but close, so close. I haven't turned the heat on yet, but it will happen soon. College football is in full swing. And the fall seasonl beers have arrived in stores.
I've already made one fall purchase, very typical for Seattle: a new raincoat. I last bought a raincoat in 1992, while hanging out with Andi in LA for spring break during our freshman year of college. The raincoat was perfect, considering the need to walk around in the rain to classes. Plus, it was blue and gold. Nearly 15 years later, it was looking a bit ragged and somewhat outdated. When I wore it last May during Tony's visit, i was gently told that it was time to buy a new coat.
Asra and I trekked to REI together. We almost bought the same coats, but then dug around on the sales rack and found cheaper and just as great raincoats, probably last years' model. Several other people were raincoat shopping as well, we all jostled for mirror space and some claimed areas on the racks closest to the mirrors on which to line up their choices. It's just a rain jacket, I thought, but then, Asra and I asked each other repeatedly "what do you think of this one?".
I was warned before moving here that I'd find myself buying things that I never even thought about: a new raincoat, and all-weather shoes. I nodded my head solemnly and thought, "I don't doubt that it won't happen." Already, I've made more trips to REI in six months than in the past 5 years (three, although once was when someone was visiting and wanted to check it out). I know that I'll be on the lookout for all weather shoes, after I make a couple of treks through the rain getting to and from work. And I know that soon, I'll be forced to purchase warmer gym clothes, although I really knew this last February.
The joys of living in a new city: shopping. Fall is indeed in the air.
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