Varenna

Our third day in a row of hopping on a ferry on Lake Como.  We had waffled over whether or not to do so, but there was a restaurant in Varenna that a friend of Conrad's had recommended, and it was only open for lunches and not open every day.  If we wanted to go, we would have to get on a ferry and get there, taking our chances at getting in (no reservations, but it turned out not to be a problem). Aside from that, we had talked with other travelers who told us that Varenna was a much nicer place to visit than Bellagio.  Less touristy.  And that appealed to us, based on our nice visit to Argegno two days earlier.  So, we hopped on a ferry,

and with several stops and some views of more fine buildings and places along the lake,

we arrived in Varenna.

In truth, at that point, we weren't even all that much into going to lunch at the recommended place.  We were in Varenna to see Varenna.  Ah, how the tables turned!

Since we were heading along the waterfront past the restaurant, we stopped to look at it.  Ristorante Vecchia Varenna proved to be a handsome little spot with a sheltered waterfront patio.  No reservations, but we got a table for the three of us in a corner with a view. 

What sold us?  Seeing the first course go by, a lake fish pate with flat bread and pickled onion. 

Lovely, right?  It tasted good.  But what also sold us was that Varenna was littered with tourists.  If Bellagio is the touristy spot, then I can only imagine the chaos there.  Varenna was busy with so many sightseers, and we decided we did NOT want to fight through them, bouncing from place to place and ultimately picking something because we needed to pick something.  We made our decision to enjoy Vecchia Varenna, and we made the right decision.

The restaurant, as I mentioned, is lunch only.  It was 2:30, and they were turning away people who wanted to dine.  The other thing about it is that it is a set menu.  Three courses, no options within them.  The menu is take it or leave it.  And they verify that you understand and agree to that before they seat you.  I have to respect that.  A restaurant on its own terms.  I'd hate it if the food were poor, but no, the food was uniformly good.  That pate was a visual stunner and delicious. 

The carbonara put the gloppy one that Van had on Ischia to shame. 

And the tiramisu - the only time on this Italy trip that we had that dessert - was light and not too sweet or boozy. 

We each had an Aperol spritz,

and then I had a glass of a local white wine.

After lunch, we decided to get the ferry back.  We didn't have much time until the ferry that we wanted, and as in Como, the crowds around the ticket booth were awful.  It turns out that most of the crowd was lined up for a particular sailing, and we got tickets easily, but as we waited for our boat, we watched a few others come in and unload hundreds of tourist.  Three boats in fifteen minutes and easily 500 coming ashore.  It made us very glad not to be wandering Varenna with them.  I wish we might have had a bit of time for souvenir shopping, but it wasn't a big concern, truly.  We boarded and headed back to Lezzeno with time enough to relax at the hotel before dinner.

And so we did.  The one time we were in the pool at the hotel,

a little splash for the three of us.  No laps, none at all.  Ahhhhhh.

a short weekend in the UP

We're in Escanaba, but not for much longer.  Conrad came up on Wednesday.  Me, I took a red eye, and I made it here on Friday.  Super tired, but worth it for Karen's 70th birthday.  And in the blink of an eye, it's time to go home.  A very short trip indeed.

I love cool and even cold weather, but I don't know how to deal with it any longer.  I did bring layers with me, but the wind is so cold, and the lows in the 40s are shocking to me this time.  Brrrrr.  It's embarrassing, but there you are.  I guess fall is here!

Conrad's hometown remains as inscrutable to me as ever.  I grew up in a small town, and yet, I cannot relate.  I go to Starbucks or restaurants, and I just don't get it here.  It's small town, hunters and Trumpers, and it's so foreign to me.  Ah well.  We've eaten heartily (including on our drive down to Little Suamico),

walked a little (around the nearby community college campus),

and celebrated Karen.  It's all gone quickly, and it was a nice time.

ridiculousness

The problem with a cleanse month is always when there is no control over a menu.  At least with our local favourite places, I know what I can eat in order to meet the restrictions that I have set on myself.  A work function at the college?  Not so easy.

Yesterday was Opening Day, and for the first time in a handful of years, we were all live and in person, enjoying the buffet lunch and celebration in one of the gyms.  I attended because I thought it would be a good to be visible, especially with a new librarian in tow.  I knew that I wouldn't have great choices for lunch, and I was right.  So here you have it:  my lunch.  Roasted summer squash.  A bit of a mango salsa.  A serving of spinach salad that probably had some sugar in the dressing, but I decided to get it for a little substance (and eat around the bits of feta).

Sigh.

Day 19 today.  A little less than two weeks to go.  Some days it's just boring eating, right?

41

Apparently I had a birthday yesterday. How old am I? 34. The title of this post? A typo. The white in my goatee? Bleaching effect of sun and chlorine.

Ah, who am I kidding? I'm as old as I am, and it bothers me not a whit. I put on an aloha shirt (it is an aloha shirt, more or less, from Tori Richard) and proceeded to open presents, have a nice little lunch with Max at our usual place,
then join Daniel for dinner at the bar at Yoshi's.



A day older today, not much wiser, and in possession of at least a few photos to prove that I had a rather nice birthday indeed!

guilty pleasures

It invariably takes a trip out of town to bring out some of my guiltiest eating habits.

(We won't discuss the contents of the special drawer in the living room and all of their teeth-rotting capabilities.)

Conrad and I were up in the UP this past weekend, enjoying time with his family. And really, we didn't eat badly. Well, not too badly. I had a lovely piece of roast walleye on Saturday night, for example, and my poached eggs on Sunday morning were a perfect, simple breakfast.

On the other hand, I steered us to pasties for lunch on Saturday and willingly caved in to the joys of Old Dutch.

And then there were the onion rings at Culver's on the way home on Sunday. That salad? Not mine. Nope, not at all.

Bad Peter, bad. I foresee many days of diet soda and cigarettes ahead...