Victoria, for the first time in years

Nine days ago, Conrad and I made our way to LAX,

board a flight

to San Francisco, then another flight from there

to Vancouver, then rented a car and headed to the ferry, made the crossing to the Island,

and - 12 hours after leaving the condo - got to our room at the Hotel Rialto in Victoria.  At long last.  A view of city hall,

a bed to sleep in. 

And it was only dinner time.

A local friend wasn't wild about the hotel restaurant, The Palms Inspired Kitchen and Cocktails, and had advised going across the street.  Conrad suggested that, too.  But I was tired and had forgotten any advice.  So we went downstairs.  And you know, it was fine.  It needs work, but it was fine.  The bar looked pretty darn good, and I was able to order a martini made with Ungava gin,

which I am always delighted to encounter.  The glass of wine with my meal wasn't as good, and I think that drinking it with the food disguised that it was veering toward what Conrad calls sports bar wine.  The food was not bad.  An appetizer of scallops,

a short rib for my dinner,

a creme brulee for dessert. 

I'd rate the short rib as the best, and I'd suggest that they make the creme brulee smaller and not serve it with a chocolate dipped spoon.  Conrad's tuna was fine enough, though the dish was overloaded with ingredients. 

I liked his salad more than my scallops, and he preferred my appetizer to his.  It's all good.  It was food, and it was an excellent value, and we were alright and ready to unwind.

Until I got a message from Owen reminding me that we were meeting for drinks.  Merde!  Off we trekked, over to Clive's Classic Lounge to meet him and his boyfriend, Dale. 

So yes, we were tired, and yes, we had had a couple of drinks, but still.  So good to see Owen again and meet Dale for the first time.  And fun to have a cocktail in a lounge that seemed to know what it was doing.  The Deep Dark Forest for me, a smoked concoction. 

Tasty!

And then we got to go back to the hotel and sleep.

Wednesday came, and there was an event ahead, but that wasn't until mid-afternoon.  Time enough to go out, see the city a bit, get some things done.  I took Conrad through Market Square

where I used to go every weekend for comic books when I was in undergrad.  We headed over the water of the Inner Harbour

and into the VicWest area to a Starbucks,

grabbing breakfast and lattes before cutting through the roundhouse area

and then over to the waterfront to head back to the hotel. 

Not directly back, no. 

It was nice weather for a walk, and we needed to get a shot or two at Rebar so as to send one to Rachel. 

Inside joke, sorry.

After the walk and getting dressed, there were errands to do.  Banking, for one, and a stop into a nearby wine and spirits store where we saw this 3L beauty. 

I was sorely tempted.  Ah well.  And then on past City Hall

to the Victoria Public Market at the Hudson. 

The old Bay when I lived in Victoria.  I can see what they are trying to do with the space, but it's not quite there at this time.  Still, we had lunch and it was good.

The rest of our day was mostly taken up with the birthday party, but ah, that's a separate blog post.  In the meantime, a simple reflection.  Several years ago I went to my high school reunion, and I was disconcerted by how my home town was simultaneously changed and yet familiar.  I recognized things, I was confused by the loss of other things, and I was unsure about the things that were new or different.  A former friend asked me why I hadn't expected change.  I had, in fact, but that didn't stop the change from feeling odd to me.  I was from there but no longer of there.  I had a similar sensation with Victoria, but not as strong.  A city I knew when I was younger, when I was in undergrad at UVic.  I remembered some storefronts, I was perplexed as to what had happened with others.  Change, and I don't know how I feel about it.

Too long since the last trip to Victoria.  I shan't let that happen again.

two meals in Baltimore

So here's the truth:  for the first few days in Baltimore, my dining was decidedly meh or worse.  Sorry.  Conferences don't always afford opportunities to dine well.  Often it's finger foods or what is convenient or group dinners where you have to dine according to the lowest common denominator.  I am a snob, I know.

But I did have a couple of noteworthy meals to blog about.  So let's enjoy them together.

Sunday night found me, with Ed and Andrew,

heading away from the librarians to Woodberry Kitchen. 

My gosh, it's been ages.  A place I've liked every time I've gone.  James Beard Award for the chef as well.  It boded well for a nice dinner.  The place has changed, for sure.  The pandemic saw it downsizing, turning its larger dining room into an event space and turning the bar into the tavern, a smaller dining space.  But it was cozy on a cold night.  And the menu, while perhaps simpler (I can't recall, but it seemed that way), had a lot of great choices.  I ordered a negroni (and then a glass of wine with dinner), and we shared the chef's board. 

Loved the lightly pickled carrots, and the smoked trout rillettes was a delight with the seed crackers.  A good choice to share.  For my meal, the oyster pie (and a side of turnips that were delicious). 

And that was it.  That's what came out on the plate.  It was all that was needed.  Really perfect - a beautiful crust, a terrific filling.  Ed had the mushroom version and liked it.  After all that, Andrew and I shared dessert, and quick negotiations led to a baked Alaska that was flambeed at the table. 

Honestly?  Visually the star of the evening, and it gave the oyster pie a run for the money.  Woodberry may have a menu of simply items, but according to what we had, they were executing those flawlessly.  So happy I made it back there.

And speaking of happy to make it back:  Charleston.  What started out as a dinner for me, Sara, and her husband Peter eventually grew to encompass most of the board, and from three we grew to eleven.  But that's the thing about Charleston.  I love the food, but from the first time I went there to now, the service has always impressed.  I arrived before everyone else, and I talked with the maitre d' (also named Peter) about the arrangements for the evening.  They had things in hand, and I left it to them, and they delivered.  Before the others arrived, I wandered into the bar,

chatted with the bartender, and ordered a Last Word.  Eventually all of us were there, and we had a fine meal.  Artichoke soup for me to start with,

then octopus (ah, that bean puree underneath),

then the duck (give me more of those onions!),

then a passion fruit creme brulee. 

I sat in the middle of the big group and had conversation all about the table.  I hope everyone else enjoyed it, but no matter.  I knew how the restaurant accommodated us on short notice, and they did a marvelous job of it.

I will give an honorable mention to lunch on the Sunday with a couple of colleagues.  The restaurant felt like a bit of a tourist place in the Baltimore inner harbour, but I loved that they had a version of loco moco on the menu. 

Spam!  It's good.  The sauce eventually overwhelmed the dish, but it was tasty enough, and for that I was grateful.