Monday, March 30, 2009

Follow Me

Hey friends, foes, lurkers, fellow and budding travelers. Follow me by clicking the follow button in the right pane of my travel blog. http://blackberrytravelog.blogspot.com

You can follow from the Blog or Facebook.

Next up in April, New Orleans. The Big Easy. Laissez le bon temps rouler.

If you've been someplace cool let's swap stories. I'm feeling mortal. I gotta pack a lot in the next 30 years!

Best,

Bob

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Friday, March 27, 2009

Best Beer brewed in Rochester, NY

Check out the third most award winning beer in America according to the Brewers Association. Genesee Cream Ale. At its annual Great American Beer Festival, the Brewers Association awards gold, silver and bronze medals to the best beers produced by hundreds of breweries in the US, from the largest to the micro-est.

Most highly decorated beer in America is Alaskan Smoked Porter (15 medals; 6 gold, 4 silver, 5 bronze), followed by New Belgium Abbey Belgian Style Ale (10 medals; 6 gold, 4 bronze) and Genesee Cream Ale from Rochester, NY, (10 medals; 2 gold, 5 silver, 3 bronze).

We called Genesee Cream Ale "The Green Death" in my college days. It gave you big time gas. I'm talking farts that you could see coming out your butt. Green mist would waft up and knock-out anyone in proximity. I was like Pepe' LePew. It wasn't good for picking up chicks.

It's fallen from favor in my home town of Rochester, NY. All the people I know there now drink Labatt's. They've gone Canadian. What's up with that? eh?

Maybe Genesee should put a little time in developing a non-fart ingredient and their award winning Cream Ale would start to climb the charts again.


I probably had my first sip of beer out of a bottle just like this standing next to my Dad while we grilled some meat in the summer. "You wanna try a sip?" "Sure" I said. I took a sip and skrinkled up my face at the sour taste.





When I was of legal drinking age in 1978 this is what The Green Death looked like. We popped a few tops and emptied our fair share of the hometown brew.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Babbo, New York City

I was in NYC by myself for the Engage Expo and I thought "what should I do for dinner?" Babbo popped to mind. I'd been wanting to go to Babbo for a while. It was chef Mario Batali's first restaurant. With it he won Best New Restaurant of 1998 and launched his restaurant empire.

Who's Mario Batali you ask? Doesn't everyone knows the rotund, pony tailed, shorts wearing, clog footed chef?



















I took a cab to the beautiful 19th century town within a city that is the West Village. I walked the narrow and curving streets between the brick colonials and brownstones until I got to the white facade of Babbo at 110 Waverly Place. With a solid door and curtained windows I couldn't see inside. I was a little intimidated but ....






















I walked in, threw a big smile at the maitre' di and asked if I could sit at the bar for dinner. I had no reservations. There were three open seats there. The gastronomic gods smiled upon me, they took my jacket and seated me at the service end of the bar. 10 minutes later the whole restaurant was packed. I lucked out.

I ordered a glass of Rosso di Monticello 2006. It was soooo smooth. I felt good and looked around the room.























It's not a big place. On the main floor it probably seats 65 and another 35 upstairs. It's cozy. The bar is dark wood with clean mill work and vintage pendant lights overhead. The walls are stucco. The bar is on the right when you enter. In the back half of the restaurant are two lines of tables hugging the walls. There is no art. The only adornment on the dining room walls are a line of lights. Their petite shades cast a warm yellow glow across the room. The warm embrace of lighting is accented every three feet with recessed lighting from above and up-light from candles sprinkled across the dining room tables. In the center of the dining area is a four foot round table with a resplendent arrangement of bare winter branches reaching towards the ceiling. Surrounding the display were dozens of wine bottles at the service of the waiters and their parched guests. It looked like a serving table at a house party. A grand staircase with brass railings anchored the center rear of the room and lead to an upstairs dining room.

The staff debates the music selection next to me as I'm surveying the room. The restaurant, very refined and elegant is known for playing rock-n-roll. For my dining pleasure we get Vampire Weekend. Nice.
















photo courtesy of foodtravelblog.com


Time to eat. I ordered Antipasti and Primi from the menu, skipping Secondi.

First to come was Grilled Octopus with “Borlotti Marinati” and Spicy Limoncello Vinaigrette. The vinaigrette was amazing. It was syrupy with a honey taste and slightly tart from the lemon. I asked the bartender what the vinaigrette was made from. Soon she had poured me a taste of limoncello which is a lemon liqueur from southern Italy. That was a treat. The octopus itself was perfect. Very moist with moderately charred skin for just the right crunch in your mouth.

Next was Gnocchi with Braised Oxtail. The gnocchi were soft and moist and the oxtail sauce was surprisingly and enjoyable spicy. Perfect to mop up with a good piece of bread.

The bartender and I chatted. She was a Colorado ranch gal who'd been in NYC for 5 years. We talked about Babbo, Boston restaurants and the "secret" U2 show happening in Boston that night. She was a big U2 fan. At one point I noticed a huge 5 liter bottle of Radici Tonrasi 1999 being poured in the dining room. This is a big bottle. I mean the waiter had to hold it with two hands to pour it. It's easily two feet tall. I asked what it was. She wasn't sure but 10 minutes later the bottle was in front of me and she was pouring me a tasting. The staff was very friendly and wanting to please. I always love sitting at the bar, it's always much more casual and the bartenders are usually full of good information. I was having a great time.

Good tunes, exciting food, great staff. Eccellente Mario!

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Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Sam's BBQ Ausin, TX

It was dark out and he was coming at me, fast, with his head cocked at a 20 degree angle, crazed eyes and arms waving yelling . "F__ that motherf___r", ..."I nearly had to split that mother f___r's wig!"

Uh oh, was he talking ot me?... I avoided eye contact. I knew we were in a bad area but this brought it home. Luckily I was at the front door and we quickly ducked inside. We were at Sam's BBQ on the east side of Austin Texas.


















Sam's is located in a dilapidated old road-house well worn from it's legions of fans. The interior is one big room tricked out in early 70's linoleum and painted Masonite. Plastic table cloths, clipped at the ends, covered a couple booth tables. A picnic table and well worn wooden tables with mix matched chairs filled out the dining room.

The BBQ smell instantly hit my nose when we entered and made my stomach quench. It was a quiet night inside the restaurant. As we looked at the menu basketball was on a TV hanging in one corner and in the opposite corner a fan blew some motion into the room.

As we stood at the counter my friend Susan noticed a smoldering log on the floor through the kitchen door. Mr. Mays called for help to get that rogue log back into the stove. I used this event as my chance to see the works. "Can I see the cooker" I asked as we all looked at the kitchen. "Sure" he said. I was through the door in a flash staring at the red hot wood fire under an 8 foot long brick oven with metal cooking pans embedded in it. It was a basic, rustic, time honored and proven cooking stove ...and it made me just a little bit hungrier that I was before.

The owner offered us tasting slices. "Hell yeah" I said. He cut through the meat and it fell bleeding juice onto the cutting board making me salivate like Pavlov's dogs.






















Oh my God. So tender. The beef melted in your mouth. Tonight he had beef, mutton, and sausage available. We all ordered two-meat plates and soon, on tri-sectioned styrofoam plates, we had a ball scoop of potatoes, baked brown beans, sausage and piles of mutton and beef. Over the top was a viscous tangy sweet BBQ sauce. Heaven. I washed it all down with a giant Pepsi.

















Looking around the room there were photos covering the yellowing walls like wallpaper. Photos of all sizes and shapes. Some autographed 8x10 glossies from visiting luminaries like Ray Benson, Bruce Springsteen, Los Lonely Boys and President Clinton. There were concert flyer's and art posters of Martin Luther King, Obama and rap acts. Most populous were snapshots of locals having their fifteen minutes of fame.


















Throughout our entire meal Momma Mays talked to us. The May's family owns and operates Sam's. She had the most expressive eyes and face as she told us stories and tales. She told us Kevin Spacey and Kate Winslet had shot a movie here called The Life of David Gale. She made a face about Spacey, effeminately flicked her wrist and her whole body shook as she laughed. She said Winslet ate the BBQ with knife and fork. "I kept telling her, use your fingers girl!" She told me she had a son name Willie ...but he's not a baseball player, again laughing with lifted eyebrows, bulged eyes and pursed mouth inviting me to laugh with her.

I ate every last morsel on my plate. I was very happy and promised to come back to try the chicken and ribs as we exited into the night.

The crack heads were still out there. I could see the same guy heading up the street towards us again. We took a left out the front door, walked around the side porch and jumped into our car. I decided to go out the back way to do an end around the zombie. As I came up the side street I could see this dude had been watching us and had turned and was headed towards the car. Crap. Worse, there was a second guy who was now crossing the street. Crackhead 1 was making towards the driver's door and zombie number 2 was making towards the passenger door.

The squeeze play was on. I looked up & down the main drag. There was no traffic coming. If I had to I could "punch it" and fly right between these two poor souls. As we came along side Mr. Crackhead he bent to look in the car at and squeezed his index finger and thumb together. I wasn't sure if he was asking for money or insulting my manhood because I kept my foot on the accelerator and zoomed off toward the newly towering Austin skyline.

I'll definitely be back at Sam's another time....probably during the daytime though. :)

All photo's are from Perceptor's Photo Report at http://chowhound.chow.com/topics/

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Monday, March 16, 2009

WinoVino - Austin, TX

I'm at SXSW Interactive in Austin this week and I've been to some great sessions and heard some good speakers. But, this isn't a business blog, it's a travel blog. So what else have I stumbled on?

VinoWino that's what. We rolled into Club de Ville in Austin Saturday night to find a hot dark room tightly packed with bouncing silhouettes.














To the left as we entered was a seven piece gypsy band called WinoVino that was building the crowd to a frenzy. The accordion and fiddle players bleeding sweat as the tempo accelerated and the singer leading the crowd in percussive shouts of "Hey!" as we all broke into spontaneous Russian folk dancing. Whew... and I hadn't even gotten a beer yet.









WinoVino define themselves as a Vaudeville Gypsy Punk Cabaret band finding their inspiration"from the cobbled streets of Paris (circa 1920) to a dusty wagon train in Romania, from gluttony on the high seas of piracy to the hunger of Americana folklore, we've hitched our way across a century and more to find you here today".

I define them as pure fun.

Too soon the set ended. I wish we had stumbled upon them earlier in the night.

We headed outdoors to cool down. Like most clubs in Austin, Club de Ville has a big outdoor space but theirs is uniquely bounded by a 30' limestone cliff. It creates a nice outdoor room. They used the limestone wall as a projection screen where perfectly good images were turned into impressionist paintings by the jagged cliff. We huddled near one of the ubiquitous outdoor heaters, finished our drinks and enjoyed the night air.

If you like Gypsy or Gypsy Punk here's a couple other bands I follow. Gorgol Bordello and Rupa and the April Fishes.

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Thursday, March 12, 2009

In a New York minute

I'm in the back of a cab from JFK to Manhattan on the Brooklyn Queens Expressway. I'm looking down reading my blackberry and I'm suddenly lurched forward. I hear the high shriek of rubber on road. I look up to see a pick up truck in front of me with it's right front wheel turned at a right angle. White smoke is billowing from the tire as it slides along perpendicular to the truck. Wow, the axle must have snapped and the tire is caught in the wheel well. I hope it doesn't pop out and into our windshield. We are all sliding on the road like synchronized skaters in slow motion.

As we all skid to a stop I immediately look to the rear and see oncoming cars and trucks approaching at 55 mph. They quickly try to switch lanes to avoid us. All of the sudden a small Toyota pops out of the center lane accelerating towards us to pass. My heart jumps to my throat. I can see the crash in my mind. I try to pull myself into the back right corner of the car ....the Toyota grows bigger as it approaches, accelerates even more and swerves back into the center lane. Holy shit! Every hair on my body is at attention.

Two more cars and a semi approach. All swerving before they make a bad situation worse. Then, thankfully, there's a break in the crushing traffic and we quickly accelerate out from behind the disabled truck and continue our way to Manhattan. Thank you cabbie!

Monday, March 2, 2009

A Long Pond Runs Through It

The coupling started at the Island Cottage end of Long Pond where the practice squad rained water on the couple and nourished the creation of the Exit 45 baby. Along the creek and Maiden Lane the baby was christened and it was here the trumpet player wailed in the attic. Adding two boys to the growing brood prompted a move to Wheeldon Drive away from Long Pond. Successful and happy they moved again to Hilltop, adding pooh and the cheerleaders until they all grew and flew away leaving the couple alone on the Hilltop. Empty nested the golden draw of Long Pond pulled at the couple again. They moved back with the deer and turkeys, to a smaller footprint and no stairs. Happy but hobbled they navigated along Long Pond to visit family, friends, shops, shows, doctors and restaurants. As time took it's toll the southern end of Long Pond pulled the couple into the vortex of hospital and hospice where Dad left us for a new journey. But Long Pond held him in it's grasp for a final gathering of family and friends who flowed to him like a stream showing us the full measure a couple and a life can contribute to others.


For Mom & Dad