horticulture (a quiz for Jeph)

Not just a quiz for Jeph - fun for the whole family. Well, maybe not you, Allison.

;-)

Speaking of Jeph - because I was a moment ago - I'm awaiting his arrival at my doorstep. He's supposed to be in a cab en route from an airport hotel. One problem with Chicago is that it's not always easy to get to points that are not on particular El lines, and so it is that it's easier to have him cab here rather than meet up someplace distant from each of us on the Blue Line. I hope to see him by 7, but...

In the meantime, more photos from last weekend, again from Powell Gardens. Rest assured, there are more shots of the weekend to follow - have I even done any of the food yet? - but for now, some of the more interesting flowers and plants we saw there.

Jeph? Care to try guessing what all of them are?

Missouri wine

Apparently Missouri was once one of the nation's leaders in wine production. Before Prohibition, it ranked second in output. Given the state of American wine way back when, we shan't comment on quality.

Nowadays the state is hardly one most people think of when they think domestic (US) wine. Maybe that's fair - it doesn't have the quantity of the California, Washington, or Oregon, nor does it have the cachet. If the one (and only one, I admit) winery we visited is any indication, they don't have Old World grapes to any great degree either.

Still, let's be fair. And let's have fun. We realize we may not like ALL of the wines we taste, but that's no reason not to give them a go. So it was that on Saturday we stopped in at Stonehaus Farms Winery on our back into the city.

I won't dwell on the bad. Or rather, let me say that I won't dwell on the ones that I didn't care for. Interestingly, all of us had similar reactions. The Traminette was one of our least favourites, as was the aged Cynthiana. On the other hand, the newer pressing of Cynthiana was quite decent, and the port made from that grape would be lovely with some cheese. Conrad, Justin, Tonna, and I tasted them all, while Conrad's Mom tasted some and poked around the shop.

Ultimately we brought home two. Come for dinner at our place, and you might just find an interesting discovery from our trip poured into your glass.

back home from MO

Home from MO? There's a gay joke buried in those three syllables, but I'm too lazy to tease it out.

Conrad was on a separate flight from me, flying with his mother to ensure she made her connection comfortably. He's a good son. He's only just in the door some 20 minutes ago and not yet fully unpacked and refreshed from his journey. While he does that, and before we head to Yoshi's for a bite of dinner, I have time to post a few random shots. More blog posts to follow through the week, rest assured!

We spent a few hours on Saturday enjoying the warm weather by strolling the grounds at the Powell Gardens east of KC. Set amongst the plants is an installation of Zimbabwean sculpture under the title "Chapungu". I liked only some of the pieces, though perhaps it was because they weren't installed in way that made sense of them in the gardens, rather unlike the Chihuly at Garfield Park Conservatory some time back. Still, a few of the works were striking, and this one was my favourite: "Beer for the Wedding" by Gift Muchenje.

not in Kansas

Not anymore, we aren't. Heck, not even in the first place. So close, but so far away from adding another state to my tally on this visit (and thinking about it, this week I've done Colorado, Illinois, Indiana, and Missouri - in that order).

Some views, then, from a high point near downtown, overlooking the warehouse district and the Missouri River (plus the confluence of the Kansas River with the Missouri) and looking west toward KC and a state I just won't quite make it to on this trip.

Green Zebra (dinner with Dale)

I'll get this post started, at least, before we head out for the day. A sunny morning in KC, and it promises to be warm. Summerlike, in my view, but then, I have the skewed northern Canadian perspective on what constitutes "warm".

Backing up to Thursday...

Dale (a better shot, though blurry - he cursed me already this morning for yesterday's photo) is vegetarian. Apparently not even bacon will work its magic on him, and accordingly, I picked a restaurant I thought would offer him many good options. I am not a fan of the bean-y/rice-y/tofu-y approach of Chicago Diner and its imitations of real meat dishes, and I've enjoyed Green Zebra in the past, so we met there at 6:30.

I'll deal with the food in a moment. I should say that dinner was enjoyable for the company - Dale and I have known each other through mutual friends and through social networking for some time, but this was the first time meeting face to face. He was utterly charming, his haircut was quite fine, and I hope I held up my end of the conversation well.

I especially hope that because the restaurant was noisy. We each had to lean in a number of times and ask the other to repeat what was just said. When we'd finished dinner I badly wanted to head for a quiet place so that we could chat and hear each other. Strike one against Green Zebra.

Strike two was how off the timing and some of the service seemed. At times there seemed to be a lag - getting our drinks was the first such I noticed - and Dale eventually commented that he felt he was losing his appetite because of the pace of the meal. As for the service, mostly it was reasonable if not especially attentive. The oddest instance was the soup service. The bowls were set before us and we heard what the soup was (the tasting menu was not printed, so we had nothing to refer to). The person bringing the soup left, and we sat there, wondering if we were meant to drink it directly from the bowl because we had no spoons. After a minute or two, we caught the attention of someone who was supporting the waiter in the section and asked him for spoons. He told us that he would get our waiter but that it would take a few minutes because the waiter was with another table. Hmmm. So we sat politely until the waiter came. He told us what the soup was, and we thanked him and asked if we should drink from the bowl or could we have spoons. That got us spoons. We can laugh - and the soup was chilled, so no worries on that - but funny as it was, it shouldn't have happened.

So I felt a little badly about the choice of restaurant, and worse when Dale told me he had enjoyed Chicago Diner the night before. Still, the food was no less than interesting and some courses were very good. Onward (and without the assistance of a menu)...

Amuse-bouche: spiced eggplant and pine nut.

A salad of papaya, grilled white asparagus, and champagne sabayon.

Soup. I loved this despite the spoon issue. So clean and simple and lovely. Green pea with creme fraiche.

Curried potato potstickers with coconut, red pepper threads, and a lime-cilantro sauce. Dale had mushroom-filled potstickers instead, though I don't think he cared for them.

Another tasty course: gnocchi with artichoke, parsnip, carrot, fava bean, and lemon zest.


Dessert. Another strong showing for the restaurant. Mint panna cotta with a topping of bittersweet chocolate and two chocolate macaroons. The flavour of mint was green and herbal, not the cloy sweetness of extract. Good stuff!

Alas, unless another vegetarian friend comes to town, I may not be back to Green Zebra soon. Conrad, CG, and I are trying another of the owner's restaurants in a couple of weeks, though, and I feel a little anxious now. I am sure the food is fine, but I hope the overall experience lives up to it. Dale, we'll head up to Devon for Indian food next time you're through town.

Friday night check-in

A quick hello to the three of you out there who read my blog (hi Dad!)...

We're in Kansas City. My first time ever in Missouri, so I'm already quite thrilled to add another state to my list. A fine dinner with Conrad, his mom, his nephew, and his nephew's wife at a place called Bluebird Cafe. After a vegetarian dinner last night (photos to come in a later blog posting), I was glad to dig into a bison tenderloin this evening. And speaking of dinner last night, for company I was joined by a friend in town for a medical librarians conference. He'll hate me for this photo, but I rather like it because Dale looks so mirthful in it. Sorry Dale.

More to blog in the next few days, of course. It is, however, gone 11, and I think I'd like to treat myself to a long night of sleep.

Max is 39 - tomorrow

Conrad is out of town. Again. I'm used to it by now. Sort of. I wish he were here for more than 36 hours this week, but I'll join him in Denver tomorrow night. If we can't be together in Chicago, we can be together somewhere. Snivel snivel whine whine.

In lieu of Conrad's company, Max joined me for dinner tonight. It's been a while since last I sat in Katachi over at the Red Line stop, and I swear the portions used to be larger. Kind of an odd and deflating experience, though the food was fine if unexceptional. Hmmmm.


Anyway, Max is new to Chicago and soon to be my colleague (Monday, in fact). A nice evening for a casual dinner and a chat, with the added delight that tomorrow is his birthday. 20, he says, but I know better. No matter, he's good company.

I didn't take photos of dessert, but we did make it to Yoshi's to finish with that course. Has it been three or so weeks since last I was in Yoshi's? I feel guilty about that. Lovely desserts, certainly, but by that point I simply thought it nicer to sit and chat without the camera flashing away.

And the last photo? Just Max's sexy look, or so he claimed. Not bad for a man of his age, though, right? He'll get me for that comment, and deservedly so.

lamb shanks, done differently

I've been making a lot of lamb shanks lately. They're a relatively cheap cut of meat, and they lend themselves to a style of cooking that borders on neglect: put them in a roasting pan with braising liquid, pop into a slow oven, and walk away. Three hours later, dinner is pretty much done.

I had a long day of work today, and I knew I would, so I started on the shanks yesterday. In a manner similar to how I cook ribs, I seasoned them, wrapped them in foil, and popped them into a slow oven for a while last night. After a couple of hours or so I pulled them out and let them cool in the foil before refrigerating them.

I got home at about 6 this evening and started back to work on them. The fat rendered off the shanks had rendered off, and I was able to remove it easily. Better still, the lamb juices had gelatinized, so I was able to remove them from the shanks and pop them into a pan. Once they had re-liquified, I strained them and started gently reducing hem with red wine (a David Bruce Petite Sirah I also enjoyed with dinner) and a bit of black currant balsamic vinegar. The shanks, wrapped, went back into a low oven to reheat gently. I lightly caramelized some onions, fennel bulb, and garlic, and I cooked up some fava beans and peeled them.

All of this came together into a reasonable meal. Heck, I'll enjoy it tomorrow evening as well, though with fewer steps, just reheating.

As for dessert (there MUST ALWAYS be dessert): a plate of walnut pieces, Manchego cheese, dried apricots, and chocolate.

Indeed, I do treat myself well!