Ah, how the adventure continues.
I had a lovely and short re-visit in New York: I strolled down the Brooklyn promenade, walked over the Brooklyn Bridge, cut my polygamist-length hair and said goodbye, again, to friends.
And so I have returned home, to my parents home in Orange CT where I will lay low, organize, clean and generally putz around.
R is in Boston beginning his new adventure. He has moved all of his belongings into his new apartment and I greatly look forward to seeing his new bachelorhood design sense.
My parents are actually away - enjoying this nice long weekend. House Party! Or maybe a night of food network and white wine? Yes. I think that in weekends past, when I would bounce up here for a few days away from the city, R or my brother worked the electrical grill. When I ventured to the patio last night I looked at this beast of a machine like a car engine - where do I start? With enough pushing and prodding I was sure that a fire would appear, but found myself slow roasting a pepper and mushrooms and (luckily) an already cooked chicken sausage over one lone blue flame toward the back.
An hour later: perfection
My brother was debuting his home-made bar last night so I ventured out to his abode in my Dad's car, graciously left for the would-be stranded child. After driving in a car for the better part of a month you'd think I'd be completely at east behind the wheel. Not so much. This car is, let's say, on the fancier side. So I had to contend with the what ifs while fiddling around with the radio system. If I were to judge my Dad on his preset radio buttons I would assume that 1) he didn't care for the radio 2) liked the challenge of deciphering classical music from beneath the fuzz of a far off station or 3) is learning Spanish. Between these two stations and my student-driver-cautious 55 miles an hour speed limit, it was a long drive out there. The bar, however, was worth the trip.
And just for kicks I will return to NY One. More. Time. I think after that the city will actually spit me out and tell me to get on with it already.
As the week will continue much in this style I will keep the random monologues to a minimum until we head out to Chicago.
Happy Laboring!
Monday, September 1, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
The numbers
Brace yourselves:
Total days traveled: 24 (in the car together)
Total (estimated) miles accumulated: 7,825.71
Total nights spent in hotels: 5
Total nights spent in homes of family and friends: 15
Total nights camping: 3
Total states we drove through: 25
Total regions we were in: 8 out of a possible 9 (depending on the map)
Total money spent on gas: $1,116.46
Car related issues:
2 tickets; 1 parking (Chicago) / 1 speeding (Montana, which is not even fair as they only instituted a speeding limit a few years ago, around the same time that they decided to hop on the 'open container law' band wagon. Yeah, that's right)
1 minor fender bender
1 much needed oil change
And that in a numeric nut shell is our trip.
But it was much more exciting than that.
Stay tuned for photos.
Total days traveled: 24 (in the car together)
Total (estimated) miles accumulated: 7,825.71
Total nights spent in hotels: 5
Total nights spent in homes of family and friends: 15
Total nights camping: 3
Total states we drove through: 25
Total regions we were in: 8 out of a possible 9 (depending on the map)
Total money spent on gas: $1,116.46
Car related issues:
2 tickets; 1 parking (Chicago) / 1 speeding (Montana, which is not even fair as they only instituted a speeding limit a few years ago, around the same time that they decided to hop on the 'open container law' band wagon. Yeah, that's right)
1 minor fender bender
1 much needed oil change
And that in a numeric nut shell is our trip.
But it was much more exciting than that.
Stay tuned for photos.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Back again, for now
We have visited many cities, but there is no doubt that New York is THE.
I had to leave R on the Arlington street corner to travel the last leg of our cross country trip on the Vamoose bus (not a bad ride) alone. I know that we'll have to do this many more times as we will each call a different city our home, but the first time is (hopefully) the hardest. Ce la vie.
After four stiff hours (though I finally did crack a book open) I won't deny the slight flip my stomach made when I saw the empire state building from the New Jersey interstate, or the perspiration that fretted by brow the moment I dragged myself and my too many belongings down the steps to the subway. Ah, the NYC subway. How I missed you and immediately hated you - I feel instantly at home.
The subway was sardine-crowded at 4 o'clock and I threw a few elbows and nestled myself into the center of the car for the ride downtown. The subway entered some old fat man's sweaty armpit around Broadway-Nassau and the smell lingered so long that we passengers continued to eye one another suspiciously and then ourselves worriedly until it up and left three stops later.
I strode down the Brooklyn blocks happy to see that not too much had changed in my three week absence (you never know). I put the key into the lock at 116, followed the same though newly painted white (wonderfully welcoming) steps up and into someone else's apt. Yes, it's tricky. I was going to be house sitting for my landladies and their arc of animals but their plans have changed and they graciously offered me a (familiar) place to stay, still, if I cared too. And I did. So, while the new us is away on business I am staying in his/my old apartment. My goodness it is strange, though the new us has terribly good taste in decor (modern-y vintage).
{sigh}
Without a true purpose in NYC I dare say that my presence will be scarce. I will run my errands, say my hellos and goodbyes and get back out to CT to prepare for the next voyage.
But first, a stroll around the neighborhood, some food and a drink with a few friends.
~L
I had to leave R on the Arlington street corner to travel the last leg of our cross country trip on the Vamoose bus (not a bad ride) alone. I know that we'll have to do this many more times as we will each call a different city our home, but the first time is (hopefully) the hardest. Ce la vie.
After four stiff hours (though I finally did crack a book open) I won't deny the slight flip my stomach made when I saw the empire state building from the New Jersey interstate, or the perspiration that fretted by brow the moment I dragged myself and my too many belongings down the steps to the subway. Ah, the NYC subway. How I missed you and immediately hated you - I feel instantly at home.
The subway was sardine-crowded at 4 o'clock and I threw a few elbows and nestled myself into the center of the car for the ride downtown. The subway entered some old fat man's sweaty armpit around Broadway-Nassau and the smell lingered so long that we passengers continued to eye one another suspiciously and then ourselves worriedly until it up and left three stops later.
I strode down the Brooklyn blocks happy to see that not too much had changed in my three week absence (you never know). I put the key into the lock at 116, followed the same though newly painted white (wonderfully welcoming) steps up and into someone else's apt. Yes, it's tricky. I was going to be house sitting for my landladies and their arc of animals but their plans have changed and they graciously offered me a (familiar) place to stay, still, if I cared too. And I did. So, while the new us is away on business I am staying in his/my old apartment. My goodness it is strange, though the new us has terribly good taste in decor (modern-y vintage).
{sigh}
Without a true purpose in NYC I dare say that my presence will be scarce. I will run my errands, say my hellos and goodbyes and get back out to CT to prepare for the next voyage.
But first, a stroll around the neighborhood, some food and a drink with a few friends.
~L
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Stoney Gap
It's official, R grew up in the middle of nowhere, but a lovely nowhere. We arrived in the bustling metropolis of Big Stone Gap, VA around 6p.m. (that's Eastern Standard Time - we are back!).
We were greeted at his childhood home by his wonderful parents and the smell of chicken curry. We chilled out, chatted and then scarfed (referring to me, really) down some fried zucchini flowers, shrimp, chicken curry, rice, some sort of heavenly broccoli slaw and something slightly spicy and delicious involving cabbage. And then, not able to resist and having to tend to this belly that has become its own person with a zip code and cell phone, I took Mrs. Saha's offer of dessert. She had made cheesecake and had some Indian sweets. These sweets that R is not so into are amazing. Crazy sweet, yes, but like shortbread or baklava, but without the syrup. Ugh god. I had to put myself to bed before my belly requested more food and later curfews.
This morning we set out for a jog - not something epic that would erase the food fest of the last few days, but something that might reacquaint our legs with the notion of activity. The jog felt great, even in the rain and despite some nagging knee problems. We were quickly rewarded with a breakfast of champions - home made samosas, fried eggplant and pooris - home made flat bread. Oh man. so good! I have to stop this constant buffet.
We are back in the car heading East to DC. This is for sure the last of our trip. Our car conversations have turned to u-hauls, time schedules, packing, and other such boring details. Reality is starting to settle in. But we still have a night in DC with friends and a kick ass bus trip to look forward to tomorrow (for the lady).
There is still more tallying to come. I'm sure several questions remain, such as how much money did we spend on gas? How many miles did we drive? How many states did we travel through or stay in? Favorite spots? Best meals? There's a whole lot to consider and discuss.
And there's always something lurking around the bend. What does a homeless, roaming Brooklynite do without a Brooklyn brownstone (rental) to call her own? Not to mention the pending road trip: part deux out to my new home of Chicago.
Yes, the travels continue. For the moment I look forward to getting back to New York, albeit briefly.
Image closer: a virtual Big Stone Gap postcard. Enjoy!
We were greeted at his childhood home by his wonderful parents and the smell of chicken curry. We chilled out, chatted and then scarfed (referring to me, really) down some fried zucchini flowers, shrimp, chicken curry, rice, some sort of heavenly broccoli slaw and something slightly spicy and delicious involving cabbage. And then, not able to resist and having to tend to this belly that has become its own person with a zip code and cell phone, I took Mrs. Saha's offer of dessert. She had made cheesecake and had some Indian sweets. These sweets that R is not so into are amazing. Crazy sweet, yes, but like shortbread or baklava, but without the syrup. Ugh god. I had to put myself to bed before my belly requested more food and later curfews.
This morning we set out for a jog - not something epic that would erase the food fest of the last few days, but something that might reacquaint our legs with the notion of activity. The jog felt great, even in the rain and despite some nagging knee problems. We were quickly rewarded with a breakfast of champions - home made samosas, fried eggplant and pooris - home made flat bread. Oh man. so good! I have to stop this constant buffet.
We are back in the car heading East to DC. This is for sure the last of our trip. Our car conversations have turned to u-hauls, time schedules, packing, and other such boring details. Reality is starting to settle in. But we still have a night in DC with friends and a kick ass bus trip to look forward to tomorrow (for the lady).
There is still more tallying to come. I'm sure several questions remain, such as how much money did we spend on gas? How many miles did we drive? How many states did we travel through or stay in? Favorite spots? Best meals? There's a whole lot to consider and discuss.
And there's always something lurking around the bend. What does a homeless, roaming Brooklynite do without a Brooklyn brownstone (rental) to call her own? Not to mention the pending road trip: part deux out to my new home of Chicago.
Yes, the travels continue. For the moment I look forward to getting back to New York, albeit briefly.
Image closer: a virtual Big Stone Gap postcard. Enjoy!
Monday, August 25, 2008
A Memphis swoon
When in Memphis, one must visit Graceland. It seems sacrilege to the art of music to skip it, even for the mildest of Elvis fans.
Not that doing so is the easiest or, rather, cheapest. You have to pay $8 for parking and a hot $27 for the basic mansion tour (audio equipment included). I won't deny my vague attraction to 'The King' mostly for his intrinsic connection to a certain era and a lot of ephemera, but this seemed a bit much.
Let me say this, my friends, the expense, the time, the drive - it is all worth it.
With the purr of an NPR-voiced narrator guiding me from the twin peacock glass windows in the living room to the endearingly gaudy meditation garden at the end, I got to know Elvis (the PG-rated version). There's his late 70's decorating style (each room had a theme), his truly ridiculous stage outfits (who brought Elvis and the jumpsuit together?), and his still-down-home-persistence. His parents and grandmother lived with him and he gave money to charities that run the gamut (girl scouts to old folks homes). He's huge, absurd, talented and in his best years, a genuine cutie-pants. So I walked through his estate, lived Elvis, loved Elvis and, at the end, mourned Elvis. I might have been a little teary-eyed, which I made up for by purchasing armfuls of Elvis paraphernalia. I am a sucker, I'll admit it, but this tour was definitely a highlight.
On to Bar-B-Que. No, I'm jumping ahead. We went to Sun Studios next (Stax was closed) and got a very entertaining guided tour through the recording studio's early history - Howlin' Wolf, Carl Perkins, Johnny Cash, Roy Orbison and, of course, Elvis Presley. Throughout the tour our guide would offer a behind-the-scenes story along with an original recording. It was pretty awesome. R took enough photos for us to recreate the studio back home in a diorama and, again, we left with postcards, stickers abound.
Now we get to the Bar-B-Que. We hit up Central BBQ - slow roasted southern mesquite. We ordered a rack for two with half wet and half dry and four (yes 4) sides. It was messy, succulent and delicious. We both preferred the dry (so that we can dip in our own sauces), but I have to admit that The Salt Lick still took the cake (or the charcoal?). Though Central, if you are ever in Memphis, should definitely be hit up.
In an attempt to walk off our constant fullness we headed to Beale street, which was much like Bourbon street - a once cool street with loads of history that is now overrun by the opportunity to get waisted. We strolled through and into the historic district and saw, but were not able to go in, the National Civil Rights Museum. This was amazing and we so regret missing its open hours. The building was created with the Lorraine Motel, which is where MLK was shot. Outside his motel room (room 306) is a flower memorial and two amazing classic cars from the 60s (we weren't sure if they were his or just for show). It was a scene filled with pregnant pause; you cannot help but look at this building and think of all that rich history steeped in strong convictions and laced with mourning and hope. It really was cool.
Returning to Beale street with the blinking lights and rowdy crowds (though there was some good street music) R & I couldn't help but feel a sadness - something like looking at and knowing of a city that has such a great history and bore such incredible people and events but has had to sell itself out in some ways to the masses. But, no matter what, Memphis really impressed us both. There is a ton of great and interesting things to see that definitely overrule the toursita nature of the contemporary city. So go try it out, if you have the time or means.
This morning, once again up and at 'em. Off to Nashville, where we hit a new low: eating fried chicken before 11 a.m. R did some research and one of the places to eat in Nashville is a little meat-ery called Arnolds, rated 'Best meat 'n 3' by some unknown source. For those Nor' Easterners, this means you choose a meat (friend chicken, roast beef, et al) and three sides. We both had fried chicken, collard greens, green beans, mac & cheese and a side salad (that was extra, but we were desperate).
As food was the priority, we found ourselves pressed for time to see the city at all. We hit up the lobby and the gift shop of the Country Music Hall of Fame and Broadway where we found the Honkey Tonks, Hatch Show Print and a few record stores. We glanced and strolled just a bit and head back to the car. Which is where you'll find us now.
We are just a few hours away from R's parent's home in Big Stone Gap, VA. We don't even need to reference directions any longer as R recognizes the highways and knows his way home from here. I guess this means we're nearly done! I cannot believe it.
Tonight, we will dine on the best Indian food ever (provided by Mrs. Saha) and sleep away the hours in the car. Tomorrow we hope to get a little run in, eat some more and then head to DC.
One may notice that the latter part of our trip has seemed like a tour of Southern cuisine. We couldn't help it. The food in the south was some of the best and most regionally unique that we've had. It seemed the best way to get to know those cities and states. But as we creep into the North East I think our tour of food will come to an end, which is really a relief as our vacation clothes are getting a little tight and we're too broke to purchase anything new.
Time for a detox, but first some chicken curry.
Image highlights
The cars outside of the National Civil Rights Museum (hot, right?)
A young Elvis (hello, lover)
Not that doing so is the easiest or, rather, cheapest. You have to pay $8 for parking and a hot $27 for the basic mansion tour (audio equipment included). I won't deny my vague attraction to 'The King' mostly for his intrinsic connection to a certain era and a lot of ephemera, but this seemed a bit much.
Let me say this, my friends, the expense, the time, the drive - it is all worth it.
With the purr of an NPR-voiced narrator guiding me from the twin peacock glass windows in the living room to the endearingly gaudy meditation garden at the end, I got to know Elvis (the PG-rated version). There's his late 70's decorating style (each room had a theme), his truly ridiculous stage outfits (who brought Elvis and the jumpsuit together?), and his still-down-home-persistence. His parents and grandmother lived with him and he gave money to charities that run the gamut (girl scouts to old folks homes). He's huge, absurd, talented and in his best years, a genuine cutie-pants. So I walked through his estate, lived Elvis, loved Elvis and, at the end, mourned Elvis. I might have been a little teary-eyed, which I made up for by purchasing armfuls of Elvis paraphernalia. I am a sucker, I'll admit it, but this tour was definitely a highlight.
On to Bar-B-Que. No, I'm jumping ahead. We went to Sun Studios next (Stax was closed) and got a very entertaining guided tour through the recording studio's early history - Howlin' Wolf, Carl Perkins, Johnny Cash, Roy Orbison and, of course, Elvis Presley. Throughout the tour our guide would offer a behind-the-scenes story along with an original recording. It was pretty awesome. R took enough photos for us to recreate the studio back home in a diorama and, again, we left with postcards, stickers abound.
Now we get to the Bar-B-Que. We hit up Central BBQ - slow roasted southern mesquite. We ordered a rack for two with half wet and half dry and four (yes 4) sides. It was messy, succulent and delicious. We both preferred the dry (so that we can dip in our own sauces), but I have to admit that The Salt Lick still took the cake (or the charcoal?). Though Central, if you are ever in Memphis, should definitely be hit up.
In an attempt to walk off our constant fullness we headed to Beale street, which was much like Bourbon street - a once cool street with loads of history that is now overrun by the opportunity to get waisted. We strolled through and into the historic district and saw, but were not able to go in, the National Civil Rights Museum. This was amazing and we so regret missing its open hours. The building was created with the Lorraine Motel, which is where MLK was shot. Outside his motel room (room 306) is a flower memorial and two amazing classic cars from the 60s (we weren't sure if they were his or just for show). It was a scene filled with pregnant pause; you cannot help but look at this building and think of all that rich history steeped in strong convictions and laced with mourning and hope. It really was cool.
Returning to Beale street with the blinking lights and rowdy crowds (though there was some good street music) R & I couldn't help but feel a sadness - something like looking at and knowing of a city that has such a great history and bore such incredible people and events but has had to sell itself out in some ways to the masses. But, no matter what, Memphis really impressed us both. There is a ton of great and interesting things to see that definitely overrule the toursita nature of the contemporary city. So go try it out, if you have the time or means.
This morning, once again up and at 'em. Off to Nashville, where we hit a new low: eating fried chicken before 11 a.m. R did some research and one of the places to eat in Nashville is a little meat-ery called Arnolds, rated 'Best meat 'n 3' by some unknown source. For those Nor' Easterners, this means you choose a meat (friend chicken, roast beef, et al) and three sides. We both had fried chicken, collard greens, green beans, mac & cheese and a side salad (that was extra, but we were desperate).
As food was the priority, we found ourselves pressed for time to see the city at all. We hit up the lobby and the gift shop of the Country Music Hall of Fame and Broadway where we found the Honkey Tonks, Hatch Show Print and a few record stores. We glanced and strolled just a bit and head back to the car. Which is where you'll find us now.
We are just a few hours away from R's parent's home in Big Stone Gap, VA. We don't even need to reference directions any longer as R recognizes the highways and knows his way home from here. I guess this means we're nearly done! I cannot believe it.
Tonight, we will dine on the best Indian food ever (provided by Mrs. Saha) and sleep away the hours in the car. Tomorrow we hope to get a little run in, eat some more and then head to DC.
One may notice that the latter part of our trip has seemed like a tour of Southern cuisine. We couldn't help it. The food in the south was some of the best and most regionally unique that we've had. It seemed the best way to get to know those cities and states. But as we creep into the North East I think our tour of food will come to an end, which is really a relief as our vacation clothes are getting a little tight and we're too broke to purchase anything new.
Time for a detox, but first some chicken curry.
Image highlights
The cars outside of the National Civil Rights Museum (hot, right?)
A young Elvis (hello, lover)
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Eating New Orleans
N'awlins. We high-tailed it out of Austin and arrived in the city on the water around 2pm, giving us a hefty amount of time to get to know the place.
We had purposely withheld any major food consumption as we had high hopes for good grub. Our lovely neighbor had spent quite a lot of time in New Orleans so we went to him first with the question, what do we do with only an evening? In response he sent us a list as long as the boot of restaurants, both casual and high end to indulge in.
Out of the car and on the streets we had our stomach set on Po' Boys. We were staying just north of the French Quarter and our neighbors suggestions seemed to be just west of that, according to the animated map we were given at check in. Note to future visitors - these maps are not drawn to scale. Coming New York we tend to assume that most cities are walk able. So we set off in the blazing and sticky 3 o'clock heat in search of a few dive restaurants. We walked about about a mile before calling the place to find out that, no, it was definitely not walkable and about 4 more miles east.
Deflated and famished, we headed back to the French Quarter, accosted a sweet-southern-accented gentleman walking a dog to find out some recommended/quick local fare. He recommended ACME and Felix's Seafood. We went with the later, ordered two Po' Boys, onion rings and drinks. They were good, not great, but then again we had plopped down in the epicenter of toursita-New Orleans. Stuffed and thinking more clearly we headed back out into the Quarter to stroll the streets. Being a Saturday it was like Las Vegas only more damp. Tons of college aged and, regrettably, middle aged, toursits happily and sloppily scarfing down the to-go drinks found on every corner. Maybe if we had more time or hadn't been eating our way through three previous states, we would have been more game to enjoy the day time drinking but as it was we were still full and a little inpatient.
Still on the look out for local good we did find Cafe Du Monde (also toursity, but endearingly so) where for just $2 you can order three freshly fried donut-type things doused in powdered sugar - beignets, I believe they're called. The street music was great, the clientele were lovely and the donuts were DE-LISH.
Next up we found our way to the St. Charles street car, as recommended for some New Orleans sightseeing. It's about 13.5 miles, according to guides, and you just sit and enjoy the gorgeous New Orleans architecture. We moved west of the Quarter through residential areas and then through the campuses of Loyola and Tulane. Some of the residential houses were just amazing - tall and slender windows and sweeping porches. Swoon. I half expected to come across the Real World New Orleans house, but only roudy college students hanging off of second-story balconies - a close second.
Dinner was redemption. Finally realizing that New Orleans may just be a driving city we returned to our hotel to shower and primp, got in our car and headed out (down? over? I'm not entirely sure where it was located) to Pascal's Manale, a hot spot recommended by our neighbor. it boasted the original and best grilled shrimp so we ordered that up along with an appetizer of some sort of roasted seafood dip, gumbo and asparagus. It was delicious. I'm not even one for seafood but I went at the shrimp - peeling them with my bar fingers - like an animal. Their little beady eyes didn't bother me at all. Those little lifeless legs? Didn't even notice. The trail of shrimp feces? Alright that gave me pause but I pressed on and enjoyed ever minute of it. We were event bibbed in protection against all the juicy flavor. And, because it seemed to be a foodie tradition, we enjoyed some bread pudding for dinner. Also something I never thought I'd dig, but it was delicious - smothered in this brandy butter sauce that I would like to live in.
I can't say that I get New Orleans. If I ever go again I will need to do more research and get more tours, but at the close of the day with a very full and happy stomach, I'd say it was well worth the southern drive.
We're about to roll into Memphis. Passing through Memphis and into Tennessee - the states tick on as do the last of our road trip days. We're waisting no time and heading straight to Graceland. I cannot wait for all the kitch not to mention the BBQ. The eating continues.
We had purposely withheld any major food consumption as we had high hopes for good grub. Our lovely neighbor had spent quite a lot of time in New Orleans so we went to him first with the question, what do we do with only an evening? In response he sent us a list as long as the boot of restaurants, both casual and high end to indulge in.
Out of the car and on the streets we had our stomach set on Po' Boys. We were staying just north of the French Quarter and our neighbors suggestions seemed to be just west of that, according to the animated map we were given at check in. Note to future visitors - these maps are not drawn to scale. Coming New York we tend to assume that most cities are walk able. So we set off in the blazing and sticky 3 o'clock heat in search of a few dive restaurants. We walked about about a mile before calling the place to find out that, no, it was definitely not walkable and about 4 more miles east.
Deflated and famished, we headed back to the French Quarter, accosted a sweet-southern-accented gentleman walking a dog to find out some recommended/quick local fare. He recommended ACME and Felix's Seafood. We went with the later, ordered two Po' Boys, onion rings and drinks. They were good, not great, but then again we had plopped down in the epicenter of toursita-New Orleans. Stuffed and thinking more clearly we headed back out into the Quarter to stroll the streets. Being a Saturday it was like Las Vegas only more damp. Tons of college aged and, regrettably, middle aged, toursits happily and sloppily scarfing down the to-go drinks found on every corner. Maybe if we had more time or hadn't been eating our way through three previous states, we would have been more game to enjoy the day time drinking but as it was we were still full and a little inpatient.
Still on the look out for local good we did find Cafe Du Monde (also toursity, but endearingly so) where for just $2 you can order three freshly fried donut-type things doused in powdered sugar - beignets, I believe they're called. The street music was great, the clientele were lovely and the donuts were DE-LISH.
Next up we found our way to the St. Charles street car, as recommended for some New Orleans sightseeing. It's about 13.5 miles, according to guides, and you just sit and enjoy the gorgeous New Orleans architecture. We moved west of the Quarter through residential areas and then through the campuses of Loyola and Tulane. Some of the residential houses were just amazing - tall and slender windows and sweeping porches. Swoon. I half expected to come across the Real World New Orleans house, but only roudy college students hanging off of second-story balconies - a close second.
Dinner was redemption. Finally realizing that New Orleans may just be a driving city we returned to our hotel to shower and primp, got in our car and headed out (down? over? I'm not entirely sure where it was located) to Pascal's Manale, a hot spot recommended by our neighbor. it boasted the original and best grilled shrimp so we ordered that up along with an appetizer of some sort of roasted seafood dip, gumbo and asparagus. It was delicious. I'm not even one for seafood but I went at the shrimp - peeling them with my bar fingers - like an animal. Their little beady eyes didn't bother me at all. Those little lifeless legs? Didn't even notice. The trail of shrimp feces? Alright that gave me pause but I pressed on and enjoyed ever minute of it. We were event bibbed in protection against all the juicy flavor. And, because it seemed to be a foodie tradition, we enjoyed some bread pudding for dinner. Also something I never thought I'd dig, but it was delicious - smothered in this brandy butter sauce that I would like to live in.
I can't say that I get New Orleans. If I ever go again I will need to do more research and get more tours, but at the close of the day with a very full and happy stomach, I'd say it was well worth the southern drive.
We're about to roll into Memphis. Passing through Memphis and into Tennessee - the states tick on as do the last of our road trip days. We're waisting no time and heading straight to Graceland. I cannot wait for all the kitch not to mention the BBQ. The eating continues.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Austin, you have outdone yourself
We rolled into town still in the a.m. hours, which meant we had a big glorious day ahead. First we met up with Jesse and his new dog Max - really the cutest little edible munchkin I've ever seen (I'll insert a photo later - I have a ton).
After saying out goodbyes to Max we headed out and into the scorching city. First stop - sustenance. Jesse brought us to a crepere that, although taking their sweet time creating these french burritos, was utterly delicious. In trying to save room for the BBQ feast that was to come, R & I only spilt a crepe and regretted it the moment we bit into the succulent savory packages. But enough about crepes.
Without waiting the prerequisite 30 minutes for digestion, we made our way to Barton Springs, this amazing water hole in the middle of downtown Austin. It stays 68 degrees all year round and considering the thick humid August air, it was the perfect temperature. We frolicked, floated, slipped on the mossy floor and baked in the sun.
Sufficiently soaked, Jesse then took us to his neighborhood where antique and vintage stores are only outnumbered by the tattooed pedestrians that walk in and out of them. To start us off properly we all split a red velvet cupcake from Hey Cupcake! The second airstream outdoor eatery stop in our 12 hour stay. It was moist and sweet and delicious. With sugar amping us up we took in the neighborhood, the people, and the cute boutiques.
Though the sightseeing was nice, dinner loomed over us. It was only 4 pm by the time we made it down and around the streets, but we decided that we had to get serious and serious meant getting ourselves out to this BBQ place I had heard so much about - The Salt Lick. To further prove it's righteousness in the ways of Texas BBQ it was a little out of the way and only accessible by rush-hour clogged super highways. We had to suffer a little, of course, before we got there. An off duty sheriff greeted us at the parking lot and three more languidly showed us to a spot. We were pretty early for a Friday night meal so we didn't have to wait for a table - a little out of the norm, as I understand it.
The moment you step into the dark mess hall of a restaurant you are confronted by the sweet smokey smell of BBQ. We sat, grunted our order (4 family style - the only way to go) and were presented with a feast of kings within minutes.
It was, dare I say, the best meal I have ever had. Ribs, brisket, some sausage (though it paled in comparison to its meaty friends), cole slaw, potatoes and other things that I couldn't really notice over my saucy hands. Oh did we consume. The meat just fell right off the bone and the moment we seemed to be getting low on any of the options, the heaving plate was replenished with barely a wave of the hand. It's a BYOB restaurant but who can pay attention to wine when you have such a presentation? To top off the meat and sides there was their signature Habanero sauce that had the perfect mixture of heat and sweet. I had to have it.
We payed for our meal and squeezed our satiated selves out of the long wooden benched seats. On the way out I looked around at the cashier desk for the sauce that still lingered in my mouth and found, to my utter surprise that it was called "Lauren's Spicy Recipe Bar-B-Que Sauce." Can you even believe it! We had been to so many truck stops and souvenier venues that I just assumed they personalized all of their sauce bottles like a sticker, pencil, or zipper pull for added toursit value. But, no. This was the name and I knew it was true love.
It's hard to follow a gestational activity like that but we made our way back to Austin and had a drink at a very sheek modern design friendly hotel. And just when I thought I had really consumed all that I could in the city, we came across Amy's ice Cream and how could I say no? I had Mexican vanilla and dark chocolate, R had Mexican vanilla and strawberry - it was phenomenal!
After that there was really nothing else to do but go home and digest, watch a little of the Olympics and pass out every so happily.
We were up with the dawn and heading East to New Orleans. I am very excited about this next destination. More awesome food, some music and who knows what else. I don't know if anything can beat my meal at the Salt Lick but I'm certainly willing to give it a try.
Because I talked it up so much, let me share a photo of the meatfest that was The Salt Lick*
*This blog is not responsible for any technical malfunctions that may occur as a result of uncontrolled drooling
After saying out goodbyes to Max we headed out and into the scorching city. First stop - sustenance. Jesse brought us to a crepere that, although taking their sweet time creating these french burritos, was utterly delicious. In trying to save room for the BBQ feast that was to come, R & I only spilt a crepe and regretted it the moment we bit into the succulent savory packages. But enough about crepes.
Without waiting the prerequisite 30 minutes for digestion, we made our way to Barton Springs, this amazing water hole in the middle of downtown Austin. It stays 68 degrees all year round and considering the thick humid August air, it was the perfect temperature. We frolicked, floated, slipped on the mossy floor and baked in the sun.
Sufficiently soaked, Jesse then took us to his neighborhood where antique and vintage stores are only outnumbered by the tattooed pedestrians that walk in and out of them. To start us off properly we all split a red velvet cupcake from Hey Cupcake! The second airstream outdoor eatery stop in our 12 hour stay. It was moist and sweet and delicious. With sugar amping us up we took in the neighborhood, the people, and the cute boutiques.
Though the sightseeing was nice, dinner loomed over us. It was only 4 pm by the time we made it down and around the streets, but we decided that we had to get serious and serious meant getting ourselves out to this BBQ place I had heard so much about - The Salt Lick. To further prove it's righteousness in the ways of Texas BBQ it was a little out of the way and only accessible by rush-hour clogged super highways. We had to suffer a little, of course, before we got there. An off duty sheriff greeted us at the parking lot and three more languidly showed us to a spot. We were pretty early for a Friday night meal so we didn't have to wait for a table - a little out of the norm, as I understand it.
The moment you step into the dark mess hall of a restaurant you are confronted by the sweet smokey smell of BBQ. We sat, grunted our order (4 family style - the only way to go) and were presented with a feast of kings within minutes.
It was, dare I say, the best meal I have ever had. Ribs, brisket, some sausage (though it paled in comparison to its meaty friends), cole slaw, potatoes and other things that I couldn't really notice over my saucy hands. Oh did we consume. The meat just fell right off the bone and the moment we seemed to be getting low on any of the options, the heaving plate was replenished with barely a wave of the hand. It's a BYOB restaurant but who can pay attention to wine when you have such a presentation? To top off the meat and sides there was their signature Habanero sauce that had the perfect mixture of heat and sweet. I had to have it.
We payed for our meal and squeezed our satiated selves out of the long wooden benched seats. On the way out I looked around at the cashier desk for the sauce that still lingered in my mouth and found, to my utter surprise that it was called "Lauren's Spicy Recipe Bar-B-Que Sauce." Can you even believe it! We had been to so many truck stops and souvenier venues that I just assumed they personalized all of their sauce bottles like a sticker, pencil, or zipper pull for added toursit value. But, no. This was the name and I knew it was true love.
It's hard to follow a gestational activity like that but we made our way back to Austin and had a drink at a very sheek modern design friendly hotel. And just when I thought I had really consumed all that I could in the city, we came across Amy's ice Cream and how could I say no? I had Mexican vanilla and dark chocolate, R had Mexican vanilla and strawberry - it was phenomenal!
After that there was really nothing else to do but go home and digest, watch a little of the Olympics and pass out every so happily.
We were up with the dawn and heading East to New Orleans. I am very excited about this next destination. More awesome food, some music and who knows what else. I don't know if anything can beat my meal at the Salt Lick but I'm certainly willing to give it a try.
Because I talked it up so much, let me share a photo of the meatfest that was The Salt Lick*
*This blog is not responsible for any technical malfunctions that may occur as a result of uncontrolled drooling
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