Vermillion

Last night I went to meet a friend for dinner that is currently working in Washington, D.C. She was staying in Old Town Alexandria, VA.

First, a word on Alexandria.

Old.

In Texas, the only things we have that are this old are Missions. I think every building down there was over 200 years old.

Tons of restaurants and shops.

The picture on the right is of King Street, which, as far as I can tell, is the main street of town. And, yes, there are that many people on the street.

We didn't really have a place in mind to eat, so just decided to drive around. I know. That's usually a horrible idea. But, since King seems to be the main drag, we just cruised that until we found a couple places clustered together.


You know how sometimes things just fall perfectly into place? That was Vermillion.

I had no idea what this place was like, if the food was good, or anything. The menu looked pretty tasty, so we decided to try it.

The place was perfect for the mood I was in. Nice, modern looking place in an old building. Dark, yet pretty open. Got a table immediately, but there was still a ton of people there. Good atmosphere. Local place, not a chain.

The food was amazing. I had the Beef Tenderloin Au Poivre with a soft shell crab, fried green tomatoes, and avocado starter. Yum. Me.

The waiter was very knowledgable about the wines and suggested a French Pinot Noir. A 2004 Domaine Jean Michel Guillon. I'm pretty sure that that most of the Pinots I've had have been American, but this one was excellent. He also suggested that if I was ever interested in splurging, to try the Gypsy Dancer Estates Oregon Pinot Noir. Claimed it was the best he's had. And I got the impression that he knows wine. It wasn't the most expensive he had, but, at $85 a bottle, I wasn't feeling that flush with cash.

Good food. Good wine. Good atmosphere. Good Find.

The Station Agent

This was a Netflix recommendation, and it was really good! Nothing like I expected.

"Finbar McBride (Peter Dinklage) is a man trying to live life on his own terms. Looking only to be left alone, he takes up residence in an rural town's old train depot. But much like the station agents that occupied small town depots before him, he finds himself reluctantly becoming enmeshed in the lives of his neighbors, especially Olivia (Patricia Clarkson), a forty-year-old artist struggling with the break up of her marriage, and Joe (Bobby Cannavale) a thirty-year-old with a talent for cooking and an insatiable hunger for conversation - whether anyone wants to talk to him or not.

The STATION AGENT is about three people with nothing in common, except their shared solitude, until chance circumstances bring their lives together. Before long, from this forgotten depot, this mismatched threesome forges an unlikely bond, which ultimately reveals that even isolation is better shared."




I'd never heard of it (which don't mean a damn thing) and evidently it's won a lot of festival awards. I highly recommend it.

And, it stars a dwarf. You can't go wrong there.

Washington, DC

This week, I'm in a training class in Reston, VA at the Oracle offices.

Last night (Sunday), I got in around 8:30, and was starving, having had no dinner. Plus, the Spurs were playing so I wanted to watch the game.

Dulles is the worst airport I've ever been in. Once you get off the plane, you have to take some sort of transport that is a cross between a tank and a ferry. But less comfortable. It looked like it was from Mad Max. They call it the "mobile lounge". Really.



I figured I could find somewhere on the freeway. Little did I know that the freeway that leads out of Dulles Airport doesn't end until you get to the Beltway, unless you take the local option. I did not.

So, since I was already at the Beltway, I figure I might as well just go into D.C. I ventured into Georgetown to find a place.

Georgetown is a really cool place. I was just there for a bit, but am planning on making it back this week. I ended up at the Rhino Bar and Pumphouse. A Boston Red Sox place. Cool place, but kinda dead. It was a Sunday after all.

Afterwards, I kinda cruised around our nation's capital. Saw the normal things...Washinton Monument, Capitol building, White House (which you can barely see), and the Jefferson Monument.

Tonight, we (me and the guy I'm in training with) went to the Old Dominion Brewing Company. It was close to the hotel and had good reviews.

The beer was great. The food was great. But, it was seriously in an office park. It was kinda weird.


More later.

-b

Cabbies in Albuquerque are Crazy

Last week, I took a trip for work to Albuquerque, NM. I didn't rent a car this time because the conference was in the hotel I was staying at (Hyatt Regency Albuquerque).

First, though, a couple things about Albuquerque.

• The name is hard as hell to type.
• Downtown is the cleanest I've ever seen in a major city. Yes, I know "major city" is debatable. But, it supposedly has 500K+ population. It just doesn't seem that big.
• Sadie's Dining Room is awesome. I'm pretty used to hot salsa, but Sadie's has ridiculously hot salsa.
• It's windy.
• The mountains are beautiful. Especially flying right over them. The east side has so many trees that just bleed right into the desert underneath.
• ExpressJet flies direct to and from Austin. They serve $1 beers and $3 cocktails. No shit. And, they have free XM radio.

Back to taxis. I took four taxis in three days. This was the most interesting bunch I've ever run across. And, amazingly, not a single foreigner among them! That's pretty much the norm, but not in ABQ.

• Cabbie 1 - Airport to Hyatt. Guy from Oklahoma. We talked about Texas/Oklahoma football and the NBA Finals. He was a big Spurs fan. Didn't see any way that King James could keep up his game.

• Cabbie 2 - Hyatt to Sadie's. Local guy. We talked about the tram to Sandia Peak. We all agreed that it was too windy. He'd never been to Sadie's, but said that everyone that comes out of there seems to have "had a good time because of the margarita's". We made arrangements for him to pick us up. He did not.

• Cabbie 3 - Sadie's to Hyatt. This is where it gets really interesting. Young guy. 20's, maybe early 30's. Lived in Round Rock for awhile. Hated it, but loved Austin. Hit a random bar on his motorcycle off Mopac in the hill country on a Friday afternoon that was "packed with hot chicks". Did not have the name. His real story was his account of his trip to NYC a couple of weeks ago. So unbelievable that it might be true. The gist:
• Showed up. Met a girl. Went to the Village to party with her. She took him to a bar she owned in Queens.
• Somehow ended up going to a party in a Manhattan penthouse with said girl. Bigtime party. Drugs, liquor, bisexual host. Lost said girl but hooked up with other, hotter girl.
• Other, hotter girl was extremely interested in the fact that he was a cabbie in New Mexico. Went to other, hotter girl's (OHG) house in Brooklyn with his backpack. That's the only luggage he had
  
• Stayed a couple of days at OHG's house. Huge. Pool. Drugs. Went to OHG's other house in upstate to party further.
• In the meantime, said girl finally called him because she "lost him" at the party. Said screw it and continued to party with OHG.
  
• Had to finally leave. Got a ride to the airport. At the airport, hooked up with Freaky Cinnabon girl and friend. Decided to party a couple more days.

• Cabbie 4 - Hyatt to ABQ - Not that interesting, but, once he found out I was in the computer industry, continually sought my advice on what kind of laptop to buy.

ExpressJet. $1 beers. Going home.

A Little Bar on the Lower East Side where Journey is Appreciated

Or, NYC Day 3.


Sunday (May 27) started out by visiting the Washington Square Outdoor Art Exhibit down in the Village. We took the subway down and then walked all the way up University Place to to 14th. There was so much cool stuff, but, we weren't really shopping. Just wanderin' and lookin'. We got down there early, around 11am, so it wasn't really crowded. Sunday morning in the Village meanders along at a pretty leisurely pace.

Next time I go to New York, I definitely want to spend more time in Greenwich Village. The vibe is just so good.

Next, we went up to MoMA. This was definitely one of the highlights of the trip.



Everyone's seen Van Gogh's The Starry Night a million times, but I could have stood there forever just staring at this picture.

"Certainly they will not ask the correct tone of the mountains, but they will say: In the Name of God, the mountains were blue, were they?" - Vincent Van Gogh.

Love it.

After MoMA, we went to Connolly's Pub across the street. Just a little Irish place. We ate at the bar in the basement. I had a half and half or two. It was pretty dead in there, but it was cool, baseball on the TV, and a bartender who was Irish (or at least faked it really well). Funny thing is, later that day and Monday, we noticed about five others. So, not so unique, but it was good anyway.

For dinner, we met Becky's Cousin Tim and his girlfriend Lindsay for dinner at Daniela's Trattoria on 8th Ave in the Theater District. I had never really hung out with Tim, but we had a great time! Tim and Lindsay are both actors, and I learned a ton about the theater. We just had a really good time. The food at Daniela's was outstanding. If I remember correctly, I had the Pasta Arrabiata. Angry pasta. Afterwards we stopped at a little bar and had a couple of beers.

Becky and I got back to the hotel, and, even though it had been a long day, I decided to explore. I went downstairs to see if anything was going on at the Marriott Bar, the Bull and Bear, or Whiskey Blue. All lame. It was Sunday after all.

I caught a cab and went to a bar that a friend of a friend told me about. Milano's on Houston Street. Lower East Side. Or East Village. One of the two. The cabbie was very proud to point out Julia Roberts' house in Gramercy Park on the way. Not sure why, but he was.

The friend's description of the place was:

"It's sort of an alcoholics' hangout, so only go there if you're in the mood to talk to some drunk guy sitting next to you....I have nicknamed it "The World's Skinniest Bar" b/c it's only wide enough for the bar, bar stool, and one person to squeeze by."

Well, this of course intrigued the hell out of me, so I thought I'd check it out.

I can't imagine a more apt description than the above. Sitting at the bar, there is, literally, a few feet behind you to the wall.

There was some crazy chick named Kendra that the bartender kept yelling at to leave people alone. I'm not sure what her deal was. She was young. Fairly decent looking. I mean nothing seriously wrong with her. She didn't seem to be bothering anyone, but the bartender had a different opinion...

I ended up sitting next to a guy most of the night. He drank cider. I drank Jack. They had a great jukebox. One of those internet deals where you can pretty much download any song. We traded songs for a couple of hours. Rock. Country. Grateful Dead. Jim Croce. Def Leppard. Garth Brooks. Hank. Willie. Styx. We ended up best friends, singing the night away.

But, what really got the crowd going...Journey. Any and all Journey. Women danced. Men put their arms around each other and sang at the top of their lungs. What can I say. People Love Journey.

Piece of pizza on the way back to the hotel and, thank god, black out drapes the next morning.

After wandering around Times Square the next day looking for somewhere to eat that didn't charge $20 for a sandwich, we caught an early flight home.

Great trip, good times.