Saturday, January 28, 2023
The Oakland Heartthrob and I drove out to the closed Naval Air Station Alameda this afternoon. Alameda itself is an island in San Francisco Bay immediately adjacent to Oakland. Covering 1,734 acres, the Naval Air Station was an enormous complex that played a critical role in WWII and remained in operation until 1997.
Now, most of it remains empty and in continuing decline, hangars, housing, offices, warehouses, docks, runways. The opportunities for development seem vast, but politics has limited progress for the last 25 years. Some businesses are dotted on the grounds, along with some housing, yet only a fraction of the space has new life.
One thriving operation, though, is Almanac Beer Co., 651 West Tower Avenue, Alameda, a brewery and tap room. All but a couple of these taps were active, I was told, as I drank a pint of Happy Hour Helles, a lager with 5% alcohol ($7).
. . .
Dinner was special. Bix, 56 Gold Street, San Francisco, is a former speakeasy, named for the legendary jazz trumpeter Bix Beiderbecke. It is a large, two-story space, borrowing decorating touches from the 20s and 30s. Service was impeccable, water, bread and butter were always at hand, and the food was generally excellent.
After a round of interesting cocktails, a blood orange margarita for me ($16), we shared fabulous deviled eggs ($13), excellent salmon tartare ($17), chicory salad with pears, toasted pecans, and blue cheese ($15), and “Truffled Cheese ‘Croques’” (tiny grilled cheese sandwiches) ($14).
My main course was called Chicken Hash à
la Bix, but it was really chicken croquettes and very good, too ($29). Expensive over all, but what are vacations for?
Sunday, January 29, 2023
The ricotta pancakes at Rockridge Cafe, 5492 College Avenue ($9.50 short stack), made a perfect late breakfast or was it an early lunch or is that what makes it brunch?
. . .
We saw “Clyde’s” by Lynn Nottage at the Berkeley Repertory Theatre, a play set in the kitchen of a diner staffed by ex-cons. I think that it is best described as a dramedy, a word that I will try to never use again, although that is no reflection on the work.
. . .
To have a proper conclusion to our short visit, we went to Fentons Creamery, 4226 Piedmont Avenue, for some better-than-average ice cream. I had two large scoops ($8), Heavenly Hash, chocolate ice cream with walnuts and brownies, and black cherry, meeting the minimum daily requirement in at least four food groups.
Monday, January 30, 2023
Unlike our departure, our return was free of drama and comedy. I learned something important, though, after visiting the new terminals at JFK and SFO. Airplane travel has revived an earlier form of transportation. Those little golf carts that scooted around for the lame, halt and lazy have disappeared. Feet were all that were left.
Wednesday, February 1, 2023
If I find myself in agreement with anything emerging from the Murdoch fabrication factory, I remind myself that a stopped clock is right twice a day. It was the Wall Street Journal that brought Stanford University’s Elimination of Harmful Language Initiative to public scrutiny. You know, use “masked study” instead of “blind study,” “person who had immigrated” instead of “immigrant;” don’t use “gangbusters” and never ”beat a dead horse.” https://www.wsj.com/
Tutor a child, volunteer at a soup kitchen, write a check? No! Those things are likely to make a real difference and avoid mockery.
Thursday, February 2, 2023
Sometimes you have to live on the edge. I went to Zucker's Bagels & Smoked Fish, 370 Lexington Avenue, one of eight locations in Manhattan that, on some days, offer the best bagels in the world. I had an everything with a little container of egg salad and, skipping a cup of coffee, a can of soda. Usually that would mean Diet Coke or Dr. Brown's Diet Black Cherry, but I felt bold and grabbed a can of Dr. Brown's Cel-Ray, the full carbohydrate version, the good doctor having abandoned the sugar-free formula of that nectar more than a decade ago, lamentably. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.
Friday, February 3, 2023
We welcomed Cindy and David McMullen this afternoon for a weekend stay-over. While their hometown of Charlotte, North Carolina has fine restaurants, they fall into a narrow ethnic range. Therefore, we chose to have dinner at aRoqa, 206 Ninth Avenue, a superior Indian restaurant. The Guide Michelin commends its “selection of creative shared plates . . . finished with creative flair,” so we attacked the menu creatively.
We started by sharing Kurkuri Bhel (crispy rice puffs, avocado, tomatoes, tamarind chutney with lotus stem chips) ($16), Lasuni Gobi (flour battered cauliflower in garlic sauce)($16), Corn Paddu (corn & rice fritters) ($16), Kataifi Mushrooms (mushrooms wrapped in shredded phyllo dough) ($20). The girls quit at this point, but David and I plowed into lamb biryani ($25). There was naan and chutneys, too. Dessert saw all hands on deck again for Coppa Pistachio, chocolate and pistachio mousses (meese?) ($14) and Coppa Al Limone Di Sorrento, sponge cake soaked in lemon juice, topped with vanilla-flavored cream and lemon sauce ($14), but why are the names in Italian?
. . .
In case the descriptions above makes you hungry, consider dining at Montreal's finest restaurant, that is, if it existed.
https://www.theguardian.com/wo
https://www.theguardian.com/wo
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