Peter and Conrad go out

A night out for me and for Conrad invariably involves food, often wine and/or cocktails, and usually ends early. We're old marrieds. Forgive us.

This past weekend was exceptional, however. Two nights in a row - not just one night in isolation - we ventured out to live entertainment. And though we have struggled to catch up on sleep since, boy, was it fun! No, really. We'll have to venture out again.

Saturday: dinner with CG at Bistro Zinc. Our hope then was to head to River East 21 and get Conrad to his first movie of the year, Inception. Conrad and I hopped on the bus downtown
and shopped a bit, then headed to the restaurant and parked at the bar where we chatted with the hilarious bartender. CG showed up, we stayed at the bar, and enjoyed a casual (though not as cheap as we might like) dinner. Charcuterie and snails to share to start with. Quail on lentils for me for dinner. I've come to like Bistro Zinc a lot - great neighbourhood place, just not in my neighbourhood.

Then off to the theater (me, walking gingerly to the cab thanks to a 21-mile run that morning). Get there, get to the ticket machine. Inception - sold out. WHAT? Really? Apparently it's still a popular movie all these weeks later. Wow. Out onto the curb with us, and while CG and Conrad debated where to go for more wine, I secured us tickets for Comedy Sportz.

Off to Eno at the Intercontinental for a glass of wine each (and why did that waiter assume Conrad wanted the Malbec while CG and I were each having Pinot Meunier - she was having the Malbec, in fact), and a cab up to Boystown for the comedy show.





I'm very fond of improv comedy. I never get to live theatre in Chicago (or elsewhere), and it doesn't interest me hugely, to be honest. But comedy shows are fun, and I've enjoyed them in Chicago, Vancouver, and Montreal. Best thing that night? During one team's game at a point where they had to perform in the style of a Western, a member of the opposing team rolled across the stage in imitation of tumbleweed. Sometimes it's the small things.

Sunday morning we got up late.

Sunday evening it was over to CG's for dinner - she cooked a pork tenderloin with roasted vegetables, I baked a raspberry and almond brown butter tart, and we enjoyed wine that Conrad and I brought. Dinner done, we made our way to the 10:00 performance at Lincoln Hall. Never been there before, and when I saw Laura Veirs was playing the next night, I found myself thinking, "Can I make it 3 nights in a row?" (NO) Alex Church Brown of Sea Wolf was playing a solo acoustic set.
I hadn't heard of him before, but I gladly bought a Sea Wolf CD on Tuesday. I liked his singing, I liked the songs. I wish he'd bantered more. I wish the guy sitting at the end of the balcony with his girlfriend was something less of an obnoxiously enthusiastic fan.

What's up next for us? I don't know. Back to dining out and such, but I tell you, we will see more movies or live entertainment. It's fun, and I'm glad we had a weekend to remind us of this.

happy birthday Handsome!

There is a long list of really sweet and handsome men in my life, starting with Conrad. High on that list? A birthday boy today. Brett.

Brett is... hmmmm... how old is he anyway? Hmmmm.

No matter. Any man who can look like this eating bacon has stolen a small piece of my heart.

Jeph, give that man an extra kiss and hug for me and let him know how very very special he is.

mixed review

I think I've said before about how very much I want to like restaurants I go to. Having had several years of front and back of the house experience, I'm inclined to be sympathetic to waitstaff and kitchen staff both. I just want them all to do their best and succeed.

Hearty is making it tough for me.

I went there back in May with David for brunch on a Sunday and was, sorry to say, underwhelmed. The menu promised great things, but when I can barely saw through a waffle with a butter knife, there's an issue. And yes, bad me, I didn't tell them so.

Same for last night. Some issues, but at no point did I tell them. So with that in mind, let me strive for fairness...

The company was great! We've got a small group of teammates with whom we dine monthly, and it's proven to be a great way to try new places and catch up on the swim team gossip we miss out on. Amy, George, and Brian were terrific fun last night.

Huge portion of tasty fried chicken. Good stuff.

Tasty cocktails. I liked mine - it disappeared quickly - and the wine list proved not just to challenge us with new names, but also new places (NC, NY, IN, VA, and AZ wines among the unexpected things on the list). Also, the wines were a great price. Hearty is quite nicely priced all in all.

The tater tots with truffle oil. Did they make the tots from scratch? I don't care. They were piping hot and richly scented and oh so good.

But...

Everyone at the table was thrilled by the appearance of a pound of (I think) deep-fried bacon on the appetizer portion of the menu. Great! But really, what we got was a cone full of bacon, nothing more than that, and it wasn't that warm. I'm not such a bacon acolyte that I will mindlessly enthuse over that.

The sliders were a buck each and, frankly, worth only that much. They tasted fine, but unexceptional.

I had other small quibbles with the food - my collard greens, for one - but I did like the food far more this time. And really, with beverages and friends, it was a fun time. The real problem was the timing.

I wonder if Hearty needs more staff. I wonder if that might help reduce the gap between the appetizers and the entrees to comfortably under the 35 or more minutes we experienced last night. I wonder if that might have made a leisurely night less forcibly leisurely. None of us said anything, but I think we were all thinking it: this place needs to step things up.

I want Hearty to succeed - it's in an odd stretch of Broadway but very welcome in the neighbourhood. I will go back - the food was better, and while service lagged, it was friendly. Perhaps just for cocktails? We'll see, and hope for even better.

"cooking"

People, I'm sorry, but here it is just three months until Christmas and the temperature was due to hit 88. No, thank you. Summer can move along, and sweater weather can make its welcome appearance. And while I doubt it made it to 88 today, it was warm.

No cooking for me, then. Conrad used his magic fingers to call up our usual sushi place, and once that arrived, I got busy in the kitchen... on a martini each. That was "cooking" for tonight.




It was pretty cool, though, to sit outside with dinner and a leisurely cocktail and watch storms roll by in the distance.

cultural attractions

I think we can all relate: no matter where you live, if there are attractions that, well, attract tourists, we seldom go. Hancock? Can't recall what year was the last time I was up there. Museum of Science and Industry? Only been once, hated it. And so on. We become tourists in our own city only when out of town guests somehow provoke us to take them places. And then, predictably, we think, "We should come here more often."

Here's the secret to going more often: buy a membership.

No, really. We got in on a Groupon deal for the Art Institute a year back (well, 13 months), and found ourselves there, oh, three times. Not much, but given the deal (and the discount at Terzo Piano, the restaurant in the Modern Wing), it was worth it.

Conrad wanted to see a show today. He'd heard from a colleague about an exhibit of Henri Cartier-Bresson photography, and wanted to go back. Alas, the membership had expired. A few clicks and a $80 charge to the credit card later, and we're members again. And for sure, we'll go a few more times this year.

In any case, it was a lovely morning to get out of the apartment (even if it had cooled off and clouded over by the time we left the Art Institute). We admired the view from Millennium Park and the Nichols Bridge over to the Modern Wing,

headed in to Terzo Piano for a light lunch,


and happily took in the show. I promise, we will go back, with or without out-of-town visitors!

dinner in: scallops

In a rare instance of lightning striking twice, I made a dinner last night that I wasn't entirely unhappy with. Not bad there, Peter.

We'd originally had plans to dine out, but Conrad was out of town all last week, eating in restaurants, getting tired of it. For my part, I'd not really stretched myself to do much of anything in the kitchen lately. Put those together, and with a bit of shopping done, it was a dinner in.

Some I know might scoff, but it really was a simple, non-fancy dinner. Easy components, some advance prep that took little effort, some last minute cooking that also took little effort. Plate, serve with a bottle of a 2008 Felton Road Pinot Noir, and Bob's your uncle.

The dinner plate components:

• Seared scallops
• Roasted trumpet mushrooms
• Roasted cherry tomatoes
• Steamed green beans
• Corn and leek sauce
• Lightly pickled vegetables (red pepper, yellow zucchini, green bean)

See? Easy!

I wish I had photographed the dessert. I made a quickbread, a loaf of a dried cherry and pecan bread scented with cinnamon. I sliced off a few pieces and toasted them, and served them on a wooden board with a half round of Cana de Cabra cheese, some dried figs and cherries, and some nuts. Frankly, I thought it was just spot on.

I'm a harsh critic of my cooking, I know. I have to be - Conrad relies on it. But for one night, I am glad to say that hey, not too bad at all.

braised chicken thighs

I haven't felt or some time like I've really got into the kitchen a made things. Oh sure, there were Scones for Smelts this morning, and cookies for TK before I went off to Hawai'i. And yes, I did make a couple of dinners last week, but those were when I was still catching up on my real life, and the effort that went into them was basic at best. So it was that tonight I wanted not only to stay in, but also to make us a good meal.

I think I managed that.

I picked up skin on chicken thighs earlier today along with an assortment of potential vegetables. In truth, I sort of already had a direction mapped out in my mind, though, and I didn't diverge from it much. Mid -afternoon, I set to work.

The thighs I browned lightly on each side in some oil in a skillet, then took the skin off (I saute them with the skin on to render off a bit of fat, but also to protect the meat itself) and set them aside.

I drained off almost all of the fat in the skillet, then added in a mix of carrots, smashed garlic cloves, dried porcini, and sliced onion. All that was seasoned with some salt, pepper, and thyme. After sauteeing the mixture a bit, I deglazed the pan with white wine. Brought that to a boil, then added chicken broth. Brought that up to a boil, and poured it over and around the thighs in a roasting pan. I covered the pan and put it into a low (325) oven for almost two hours.

While the chicken cooked, I gently sauteed chopped cauliflower, chopped red pepper, a bit of onion and smashed garlic cloves, salt, pepper, and saffron. After letting it take on some goldenness, I added chicken broth to the pan and left it all to simmer a good long while. Once tender, it all went into a food processor for buzzing up. I passed the result through a strainer and was left with a nice, golden orange puree.

The beans I trimmed simply. Close to serving time I popped them into a steaming tray above water on a low boil.

Once the chicken was cooked, I removed it from the liquid to keep warm. I strained the liquid, then poured it into a pan and turned the heat up high. Then it was a matter of letting it reduce down to a sauce. Given a bit more time, I would have tried de-fatting the liquid, I admit.

As Conrad set us up outside, I warmed up plates. Into the centre went the puree (reheated). The beans atop that and to the side, and then two thighs each atop that. Over each thigh I let flow a large spoonful of the glaze.



All in all, a meal I was pleased with. The chicken didn't dry out in the braising process, and the meat came off the bones so easily. The flavours worked well, and it all sat with the bottle of Laughing Stock Blind Trust well enough. Add in a bit of a sunset show out on the balcony, and we had the makings of a nice little dinner date on the balcony.



And Conrad, having just come up from the treadmill, wolfed it down, as great a compliment as I could ever want!

so much for willpower

At some point the photography becomes a compulsion, doesn't it? Oh, it has its uses. Securing permanent residency for Conrad was aided immeasurably by the photographic record of our relationship, both in and of the photos themselves, and for how the way we file them by date helped us reconstruct our relationship story. And then there are the simpler pleasures of the two of us reminiscing over older photos, or sharing them with friends and family who may actually want to see some of them.

But it's a bit much, and it's something I've given a lot of thought to lately. Inundating people with information. Oversharing. The blog and Flickr - can't I sometimes live life without having to document it endlessly?

Apparently not. Ah well.

I had intended last night to enjoy being treated to dinner at Topolobampo by our friend Howard, in town from San Francisco for the weekend with his friend Dennis. No photos. A late dinner, drinks, conversation. And for a while, I was managing to do just that. All was tasty, and the evening slipped along terrifically well.

And then Howard's beef tartare (yes, at Topolobampo) came out. So exquisitely composed, like a Japanese meal, it seemed. Marvelous. I slipped. I asked if I could have a photo. Howard acquiesced.

One course later (we were having three different tasting menus, so Howard was the only one with his particular dishes), out came Howard's spot prawns. Oh my word. I was gushing (without even realizing that Rick Bayless was sitting at the table over my shoulder, dining with his wife in their own restaurant). Bugger. Good effort at not taking photos there, Peter.

I actually held off on any more until dessert. I loved my dessert muchly - multiple coconut confections in the dish. One more photo.

In for a penny, in for a pound. Photos, and since I had them, a blog post to go with.

Forgive the oversharing. And brace yourselves. Tonight's dinner of braised chicken thighs is almost ready to be served, and that may mean still more photos ahead.

by the numbers

I can't remember when it was in the past 24 hours, but I had the realization that not only did I not have to blog about the past week of vacation for several more entries, it would be better not to. So many times in the past I've taken on such a task, it really becomes a chore. Three weeks later, I'm digging back into the holiday that was, and if it's that awful for me, how must it be for the three people who read this. Mercy. I'm all about mercy. Well, tonight I am.

So let's move on with a wrap up entry on the Hawai'i vacation. Conrad and I have had a relaxing (if breezy) dinner of ribs out on the balcony, and we're each feeling our way through a certain melancholia. Ah well. We - like you - can always go visit the vacation photo sets (yay!) as often as we like.

So let me do a quick by the numbers entry, and barring any unusual reminiscing, move on with this blog, keeping it closer to the day that was.

0. Number of photos taken on the last two days of vacation.
1. Number of times I've been to Hawai'i this year, contrary to popular belief.
2. Islands visited: Lana'i and O'ahu.
3. New Aloha shirt acquisitions.
4. Nights on each island.
5. Books read while on vacation: Under the Ivy; Eat, Memory; Still Life; Hardcourt Confidential; A Fatal Grace. I made it a good 125 or so pages into The Disappearing Spoon as well. Thanks, TK, for the recommendations!

Other random or repeating numbers pop up in my mind (7 trips to Hawai'i now, by my count; 2 mai tai a day limit (violated once, I think); 2 dips in the ocean and 1 in a hotel pool; 9 hours in the air from Chicago to Honolulu).

In the end, it was great. I saw sights new to me (anything on Lana'i, the 'Iolani Palace in Honolulu) and familiar things (Book Ends in Kailua, Side Street Inn for dinner in Honolulu). And I wish I were there now, still vacationing, lost in a book with a glass of lightly chilled red by me and Conrad, reading, nearby.

[insert sigh]

One day.... One day....

mai tais: ratings

I have learned from Conrad (or, to borrow from Whitney, I learned from the best). I think I have. I have come to know what a good mai tai is.

United Airlines, this was fine for in flight. Faint praise, damnation, all I can muster.

Four Seasons at Manele Bay poolside bar, this was bland and sweet and, well, just not good. We'd try a different drink next time.

Halekulani Hotel in Honolulu, bless you. This is my gold standard, and I was content to worship at your temple these past few days.

I think my liver would now appreciate a few days of water only...

relaxation

I have a feeling that I will come off here as shilling for the Four Seasons chain. Ah well, I enthuse about that which I've loved greatly, and right now the island of Lana'i and, specifically, the Four Seasons Lodge at Koele are what I'm thinking of.

Ahhhhhh... to be back.

We spent four nights on Lana'i. Only four. Oh, we heard murmurings from certain quarters that the island was too small, too sleepy, that we'd be bored. Feh. We had books. What more did we need?

The Lodge. We needed the Lodge. And boy did we get it. We walked in and fell in love. Got checked in and upgraded to a nicer room.


Walked in to the room and asked each other when we could come back again. Oh my.

What made it better wasn't the cooler temperatures of the upcountry or the friendly spirit infusing everyone there (the staff all seemed really happy about their jobs, really proud to work there)(also parenthetically, when we told people in Lana'i City that we were at the Lodge, they'd nod approvingly - we had a similar reaction from people in Honolulu). It was that we seemed and felt as though we were the only people at the Lodge. We'd caught it in between seasons, or so we had the notion, and the result was that we had ample spaces to enjoy alone.

Two things mark that out clearly. On our last day there, Conrad and I went horseback riding, and followed that with lunch ordered from the bar. We sat on the verandah outside the bar, a cocktail each, some pupus.
Read. Dozed off. Yep, out in a common area, early afternoon. Dozed off. Woke up and went and took a nap in the room.

The other thing was on our shuttle to the airport. Four of us on the shuttle, the other two a friendly couple from Portland. It turns out they'd been there 9 nights, so every night we'd been there. And yet we hadn't seen them once. Hidden? Down at Manele? We don't know.

I'll post other things about the Lodge, its grounds, and more in times ahead, but for now, as I sit at LAX in a Red Carpet Club, I think how nice it would be to have a few more Louise Penny mysteries (darn you TK!) and time back on Lana'i. One day. 2011, perhaps?



I cannot end this without mention of our fellow Smelt, Michael, who secured for us a discounted rate. What is better than a super-relaxing vacation? One that we paid less for than we might otherwise. Thank you Michael!

adding to the collection

Another short blog post from Honolulu. We intend to spend much of today on the beach with books and postcards and bathing suits, and it's only the graciousness of Conrad that let's me take a little time to blog first. So, a quick entry wherein I poke gentle fun of my vanity.

Aloha shirts. I love them. Colourful. Fun. How many do I have now? I've lost count. And now I have a few more. As if I could come to Hawai'i and not buy at least one. At least.

So then, a few shots of the new shirts. Ah yes, oooo and aaaaah over them and wish you had your own.





The beach beckons; further blogging can await airport time tomorrow and down time on Labour Day. Have a great long weekend everyone!