Domaine Hudson

Last night the family enjoyed a delicious vegetarian dinner, served with a sip of Gilbert Cellars Allobroges (Yakima, WA). This fine meal was promptly followed by second [carnivorous] dinner at Domaine Hudson in Wilmington. Dynamite charcuterie platter with tasty Code Noir merlot (Rattlesnake Hills, WA).

The allobroges was return luggage from a trip to Washington earlier this year. They make good merlot - which suffers a bad reputation, apparently. One winery owner refused to not serve it. "What, you don't want to taste my merlot?"

Braised lamb shank

With mint gremolata, rhubarb-cherry-raspberry sauce, spring potato salad and skillet green beans. Accompanied by Justin Paso Robles Iscoceles Isosceles.

Happy Fathers' Day.

Mint and garlic from the garden; rhubarb, purslane, parsley, beans and potatoes from CSA share.

The beach!

First beach weekend of the summer, May 14-16. Assateague Island, Maryland.

Seattle, Ellensburg, Yakima

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Gilmore's

BYOB. West Chester, PA. Peter Gilmore, chef.

Nice eatery, nice location, nice wine. Point of interest: is it offensive to bring a bottle from Frog's Leap vineyard to a French restaurant? Regardless, their 2006 Cabernet Sauvignon was tasty to the point of teleportative, and paired well with foie gras spring rolls, sausage and pâté platter, and seared duck breast (quite the carnivorous meal, upon reflection).

Incidentally - picked up a growler of Iron Hill's seasonal "Hopzilla" brewed with citra hops, review coming shortly.

Yard's IPA (On Tap)

Had an awesome meal at Kanella BYOB in Philadelphia last night. Drank a rocking bottle of Gamba 2007 Russian River Zinfandel with dinner, grabbed a cup of coffee at the new Garces Trading Company, ended up at Irish Pub for a couple of drafts. Nothing more local than Yard's, brewed in Philly. I've had their India Pale Ale previously, never on tap.

Poured a slightly hazy reddish copper color with a thin resilient head. Decent lacing all the way down the pint glass. The smell was fresh and enticing. Big malt opening, caramely and sweet followed by nice bitter hop flavor - not particularly pungent (citrus/piney) but very present. The feel was frothy and sticky - seemed to be a good keg and was definitely much tastier from the tap than bottle. I'm a fan of Yard's, can't wait for Philadelphia Pale Ales from Brewerytown at Citizen's Bank Park this summer.


Yard's IPA (On Tap)
Price paid: $4.00/Pint
Freshness: Excellent
ABV: 7.0%

San Francisco

Following my stay in Escondido I flew up to San Francisco for a couple days, nearly getting stuck in the San Diego airport because of bad weather. California was experiencing its storm of the decade precisely as I was experiencing California for the first time (poop). Fortunately, the weather provided a window for getting to San Francisco, which provided plenty of cool stuff to do that wasn't dampened by the constant rain.

Coincidentally, my dad was in the city the same dates as myself traveling on business, and I was able to crash in his hotel room for three nights. This was a huge coup for my budget and level of comfort (Hilton). The first night in town we took the courtesy shuttle back to the airport in order to access the Bay Area Rapid Transit system (BART). The train took us into the city, where we met my dad's old friend, Berkeley resident and rock aficionado Andy. He had a bead on a rare show by local favorite Steve Morse at a venue called Slim's.



The gig was sponsored by Guitar Player Magazine, a publication that has repeatedly named Mr. Morse best overall guitarist. We bought tickets and grabbed some food and beers at a nearby, nearly empty, establishment. Arrived at Slim's a little late, as the opener was finishing, but were remarkably able to get seats near the front to the left side of the stage. It was a brilliant spot to see the show, as the guitar pedals were located right in front of us. The performance was amazing, I had for some reason expected a strummy acoustic set - quite the rocking opposite. Certainly one of the highlights of the entire trip.



The BART brought me back into the heart of San Francisco the next day, my destination the Museum of Modern Art. I enjoyed a streetside falafel wrap for breakfast en route. SFMoMA was hosting a seventy-five year anniversary exhibit, essentially a greatest hits narrative of the museum's history. It was a great tour, and I spent plenty of time viewing the offerings on other floors - not eager to return to the rain. After dawdling in the giftshop it was time for lunch. I hooded up and explored some side streets, stumbling upon Thirsty Bear Brewing. They served Spanish tapas alongside organic beers brewed onsite. The atmosphere and lunch menu were impressive, but I found most of the sampler beers to be yeasty (think Blue Moon, which I can't stand). I settled on the nitrogen stout, which came out drafted poorly with about two inches of head. Meh. I was pretty soaked after walking around a bit more after lunch, and hopped the train back to the hotel in the late afternoon.



The next day we switched hotels in the morning, moving from the airport Hilton to one located near Union Square in the city. My dad brought me to a fine Italian restaurant around the corner from the hotel called Kuleto's. They featured house-cured meats, and a scrumptious lunch menu including a fixed-price three course option. I chose linguine with clams and a bowl of dynamite minestrone, my dad had the taster lunch centered around a braised shortrib cannelloni and mushroom dish. We split a half-bottle of Napa Valley Syrah that had aged to an inky density. The whole meal was superb.



The final highlight of the trip took place that evening. I was able to meet up with Rob, an old friend from college who has lived in San Francisco for years, and who I hadn't seen in as long. He knew the good local spots, and we enjoyed catching up over some sinus-clearing Indian food. I had a very early flight the next morning, but we were able to get in a round of brews at an awesome little bar called The Black Horse London Pub. This was as literally a hole-in-the-wall as I have ever seen, seating/standing maybe ten people maximum. Bottled beers were served out of an ice-filled porcelain bathtub which also toted a keg of cask-conditioned IPA from a local brewer. Top notch, thanks Rob.

Las Vegas

I booked two nights in the Riviera on the morning of January 15th, arriving at the north end of the strip later that evening. The room was nice, and cheap, enough, but the casino and immediate surroundings were bleak. The first night in town I wandered in the direction of the closest nice hotels in search of food. At around 11:30PM I landed at the Encore, sister to the Wynn, in a casino-side eatery called Society. The quality and price of the food and wine registered fine with the lavish setting. I had a delectable salmon dish served with a quinoa cake and fennel/orange salad, in the process polishing off a bottle of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. I traipsed back to my room, content to forgo any wagering until the next day.



Jet-lagged, I woke up early on Saturday and set off again southward down Las Vegas Boulevard. My destination this morning was the Mirage, home to a bountiful poker room and certainly one of the strip's keystone casinos. En route I picked up a bottle of Pellegrino ($1.99), a coffee and a croissant for breakfast. I was a little surprised, even at 10:00 in the morning, to find only two games in action - $1/2 No Limit and $3/6 Limit Hold'em, the basement of Las Vegas poker. I registered and paid my $80 buy-in for the 11:00AM daily tournament and sat down with a rack of $1 chips to kill some time in the Limit game.

When the tourney started I colored up what remained of my stack, stuffed the $25 and $5 chips in my pocket, and sat down to a couple hours of good action. I didn't make the money, but I did enjoy a few rounds of drinks and plenty of poker. I lost most of my chips after gutting out a call of a huge over-size bet at a flop of JT9. I held two aces, and had re-raised an early position raiser pre-flop, receiving a call. My opponent shoved for twice the size of the pot without much deliberation after the flop came down, and I was vexed for a moment before opting to call. He held AQ, and needed a K or an 8 to make a straight. The King rolled off immediately, and the rest of my tournament was spent scratching around for a good spot with a short stack.

After finally busting I was ready for lunch. Stepped outside and continued down the strip, magically drawn into the Bellagio by escalators and walkways. I skirted the casino perimeter, noticing a number of nice looking eateries - none of which were open yet. Ended up in a far corner of the first floor, where the entrance to the hotel art gallery stands. I was more interested in food than paintings at that moment, and the $15 entry fee dissuaded me to turn back toward the casino. I was "hungry-walking" and brisked past a familiar looking gentleman headed in the same direction. I kept my pace and advanced fifty feet before holding up at a hotel phone station. Uncharacteristically, Sammy Farha's signature cigarette was smoldering, as was the notably taller woman who accompanied him. They walked right up, as if to greet me. Before he could reach for the phone I gave a sly grin and groveled for a quick autograph, to which Sammy replied, "Sure thing, buddy," scrawling a hasty S Farha across a sheet of Bellagio stationary. I thanked him and split as he grabbed the phone, presumably to call the poker room.

I ended up at Planet Hollywood, eating at the bar of a crowded P.F. Chang's. After a greasy, yet relatively cheap and edible lunch, I sat in a $1/2 NL game for about an hour, doubling my initial $100 input. This was a must-win situation, because my debit card only allowed a $400 stake for the day, two-thirds of which would have been gone had I lost that buy-in. Now all I had to do was double-up what remained of my chips from the Mirage and I'd be profitable (at gambling) for the day. It took one hand of blackjack to accomplish that before my return to the Riviera. I was ready to skip the long cashier line I passed on my path back into the Mirage card pits, and plunked the whole $50 down, with a couple of $1 chips leftover as souvenirs. Stood on a 17 against a dealer 5, 6, 4, 8 - bust. Blackjack is easy. Tipped a buck and was happy to wait in line to cash out for a big bill. To the room for a nap.



For dinner it was off to the Wynn, where I found the Daniel Boulud Brasserie and sat looking out at "The Lake of Dreams" in the hotel's courtyard (featuring a giant animatronic lip-synching frog amongst a rotation of oddities). I ordered a bottle of Pellegrino ($8), a half-bottle of Calera Pinot Noir, and Duck Confit with lentils and foie gras. The entrée also featured a tuft of fennel and orange salad and a purée that I thought may have been lentils and foie gras combined. Needless to say, the meal was superb. The service was as sharp as anywhere I've eaten, the sommelier attended to my wine glass with zeal, and the food was positively delicious. I don't relish paying so much to eat so well, but Vegas has a way of dissolving one's sense of proportion when it comes to cash.

I decided to recoup a bit by gathering some free drinks at the Wynn's poker room, and maybe even some chips. I sat in a $1/3 NL game and fluctuated for a couple of hours, eventually breaking dead even after an embarrassingly karmic reversal of the big hand I played earlier. This time I made the straight on the turn with AQ to double up through the guy holding AA. I'd had my fun, was not a favorite in the game, and had a flight out of town at noon the next day, so I called it a night after a few more hands - pleased to be the fish lucky enough to break even.

Keep hope alive, and hope will keep you alive.



In it to win it. Let's go Fightin's.

P.S. - Baseball in November. Great season for the Phillies that could have been that much better. ABTY

Peaks is.

I neglected to bring the camera along for the trip to Peaks Island.....this is the only photo, taken with my phone crossing the bridge on the way out of Maine.

In less than a thousand words, picture: patches of sun through rolling fog, lobsters on the rocks, abundant food and wine, beach bonfire blazing at sunset, Spar Cove basking, portable iPod speakers blasting, sushi for seven at Benkay, Wilco exploding the Maine State Pier - "The Late Greats" encore - dancing on the top deck as the ferry pulls away from the crowd, catching lunch(ish), cocktails and hors d'œuvres with neighbors, quick swim before departure. Four-day weekend.

Pizza one

Ingredients: garlic, onion, artichoke heart, broccoli, jalapeño, roasted red pepper, chèvre, olive oil, parmigiano-reggiano, crust from the Sbarro at the Concord Mall.