Tis Done and Done

After a frantic morning of putting stuff in boxes without regard to value, finally a bare desk was staring up at me, calanderless stark walls, just as I found it some years ago. A working life was neatly packaged into 12 boxes, and with the help of some folks, it was stowed in the MOMSTER for transport yet again to the digs.

A string of good byes to those around and then a visit to the nice security department where i was "de-briefed" (no snappy comments please) and turned in my badges. There was little remorse at handing over the CAC card - good bye access to the NMCI chamber of horrors, so long Activeclient, adios plain text, arrivederici "are you sure this is from a trusted source? That wasn't so bad. Then it was out to the MOMSTER for one final act of separation. The closer i got to the gate in the stickerless MOMSTER, the lighter i felt! Hey, this ain't so bad!

So here i sit upon my bed, laptop on lap, looking out the window to a gray sky and water, a glass of Sauvignon Blanc at my side, and you know what? I don't regret not having stickers on my car. face forward..

A quick thank you to all the people who took time to respond to this morning's feeder with very nice things to say.

Probably enough about the transition, early reports are that it is going well..and we'll try to veer out of the life lane back to some good old stuff about food..

CD Lunch

Over the past couple of weeks, I've had an opportunity to have lunch at CD cafe. As I've commented before, lunch is a nice time to get a feel for a place you might want to consider for dinner. Of course, CD has established itself in the firmament of Solomons and Southern Maryland dining spots, so they're doing something right. Despite that, I will never forgive them for not having a possibility for making reservations, instead willing to consign serious diners to sit in an outside hallway, awaiting their turn, looking at venetian blinds of closed dentist offices and stock prints on the wall. It's a model that apparently keeps them in business, but i still don't like it. Not uniformly embraced in fine dining establishments.

Reservations don't seem to be a problem at lunch, although on one visit we fought for a table at 11:50, while a second visit was greeted with a "sit wherever you want". As most will know, there are several closely packed tables(don't discuss that tryst here) all affording a nice view of the traffic onto and from the Solomons. The focus should be within, not without.

Besides the standard luncheon selections of salads, sandwiches, pastas, and plated entrees, there are always two or three specials, and on both occasions these were recited from crib notes, with fairly extensive descriptions,so by the last you forgot the first. None the less, on each visit, the food has been satisfying and well prepared. On the latest visit I opted for a crab cake sandwich with a side salad. The cake arrived, of generous proportions, on a Kaiser roll. As an aside, has anybody ever eaten a crab cake sandwich as a sandwich? with the cake and roll, it's probably around 3 or 4 inches thick and pretty well unable to be eaten by the human mouth. Mostly you park the top bun, and eat the cake with a fork off the bottom bun. Why don't the just offer a single cake and forget the "sandwich" gimmick? Nobody eats it that way. Today, the lower half of the bun served to absorb the over abundance of the dressing on the side salad. The salad was good, with almonds, mandarin orange wedges, cored cucumber wedges over some greens that were just past crisp. As for the cake, it was voluminous with plenty of crab. There was some other seasoning i couldn't identify, but it wasn't old bay. A little cup of green goddess (?) was supplied that was okay.

Would go back for lunch, but without a reservation, dinner is out for the feeder. Respect me,I'll respect you.

With Apolgies to Mr. Huxley

Welcome to a Brave New World. Thank you for visiting. I hope you will enjoy the experience. I suppose there are many, many, visitors that are more cyber savvy than I, but this is a start. If you would like to have any new post dumped in your inbox as usual, do the "subscribe via e-mail" thingy on the right. Comments are available at the bottom of any post which i can edit.. If you do that, be sure to use a call sign not your real name..we'll all learn together..suggestions are welcome

With Apologies to Mr. Dickens

(Thursday 19 February) was the best of days, it was the worst of days, it was a day of wisdom, it was a day of foolishness, and then a day to remember. It started out with a trip to the donut vendor at O'dark thirty, perhaps my last visit at least to supply a hungry test team with the dose of sugar to start their day. I have become quite friendly with the owner of the shop, and have learned much about Indian culture and food from him. So it was with some sorrow on both our parts that we realized things would change. He is a very warm and caring person. I hope to be able to visit him in retirement. Anyway, armed with the usual 4 dozen sinkers, I headed for the base with pounding head (the "worst of days" part - we had "dinner out" the previous evening). Opened the door of "the trailers", turned on the lights, got the hallowed tray, and arranged the sugary disks in their usual attractive display (presentation is everything, even with a lowly donut). One chore accomplished and was looking forward to start the "best" part.


Morning meetings were endured, and then I headed north to keep a lucky appointment with an eye-doc to update the specs before, well, um, okay, company benefits ceased. Arrived in Waldorf, located said optometrist's office only to find "closed until 2pm for lunch" on the door. After a ten minute wait in the chill was admitted and checked in and had a seat. Was interested to note that the usual "doctor's office" magazines of 5 years ago were mostly in large print editions. Nice touch. Anyway, was finally taken back to the office where the astounding machine that produces the "is two better than one?" dance occurs till you finally settle on "okay, i guess that works". Then some drops were produced with "This will dilate your pupils for your exam". Hey! hold it lady! I have a function this evening (best of days) for which I need to be able to see. Aaaah, no problem, couple of hours, you'll be normal. Okay fine, so settled onto the group (nothing) bench (not Arlo's) and watched some very nice prints dissolve into blurriness. Finally the doc saw me, informed me I had fledgling cataracts (see you in a year, buddy). and out I go.

Upon exiting the office, I immediately knew I was in trouble (you'll be able to drive, just can't read a damn thing) when the sunlight almost brought me to my knees. I will spare you the details of the drive back to "the park", but it took quite the concentration (day of foolishness). I have never, never, experimented with LSD, but I think I came close. Gee! Look at those halos! (worst of days again).

After a quick change of duds to Dress For Dinner, MFO and I attended a retirement dinner in my honor (imagine that), hosted by the local test team. I must have attended (a lot) of these, but when it's actually for you, it somehow transcends skepticism and curmudgeonly comments. I was very touched by the fact that people would actually come out for me. The proper amount of roasting (who needs a Chia Homer?) was coupled with some very meaningful gifts for me. It was nice to share the evening with people who i have lived with almost more than MFO. It will be hard to leave them, they are almost family. It was the day to remember. I cannot thank you enough.

The Red and The White

As some might remember, I am working my way though the New Yorker book "Secret Ingredients" which contains a selection of articles culled from the New Yorker magazine relating to foodie things. After slogging through an article giving me more information on Tofu than i would want to know. I have gotten to the section called 'The Pour" which deals with drinks and wines. There is a nice piece by Roger Angell on Martinis, but what caught my attention was an article of the same title as above by Calvin Trillin. who is becoming one of my favorite food writers. The lead sentence reads : Before we get into the queston of whether experienced wine drinkers can actually tell the difference between red wine and white wine, ..." which certainly grabs your attention. While a seemingly frivolous statement, the article goes on to relate an alleged test from UC Davis where red and white wines are put in black glasses, and so called experts are called upon to decide whether the contents are red or white. upon further investigation, it turns out that "the test" may be urban legend. but the subject gets some serious treatment.

Anecdotal evidence suggests that so-called expterts get 3 or 4 out of seven correct. A repetition of the test with representative varietals resulted in a better average. An interesting concept. Maybe a test you could do at home.

Please DFD

I have had several feedbacks lately, including dining over the Valentines weekend. From fine dining places to the mid chain places, readers are asking why they are forced to dine with people in jeans, tee shirts, and ball caps that never come off., or with "screaming kids". One diner was at the salad buffet behind a person whose jeans were held up by faith. a tee shirt, didn't particularly care about personl hygene, and sported a ball cap set backwards. Why do people do this? Are they are just coming here to stuff their face and food is a fuel, who cares what the hell anybody else thinks? There are "chefs" in the back room at some level hopefully thinking they're making food that is attractive as well as edible.. So why then, do we not honor that effort by dressing appropriately for their efforts? When MFO and i go to a nice place we like to signify that we appreciate good food and the work that is required to make it.

But the problem is that in the end game, money from jeans and hats is the same color as the money from sweater and slacks, ortie and jacket. These days we all have to make a buck, but in the long run I will return to an atmosphere that provides the dining experience that I appreciate which doesn't include people that dont't respect the food. I don't have a solution to offer

Please think where you are going and at least set an example for the ball caps

I'm growing old

Given that we are now in cyberspace and not on a "borrowed" e-mail system, I think maybe i have a little more liscense than normal.

I just got my new edition of Bon Appetit, and among the starting stuff was a "Songs for A Cocktail Party" column, (shake up your cocktail party with this mix of tunes that pair (sorry) with good company and a crisp cocktail). Okay, fine. There were ten entries. Here is the list of artists (which i had trouble separating from their titles: Feist; Grant Green; Esquivel ; Jorge Ben; Glenn Miller; Phoenix; Classics IV. Who the hell are these people? Okay, I give you Glen Miller. I guess I got some research to do.. I'm growing old.

And now to the "more liscense "department. As loyal readers know, i spend a fair amount of time watching sporting events on TV. Manly things like golf, football, basketball, and things like that. I have griped this before, but what do people do that have adolescent children do when the commericals are a constant stream of what to do if a certain condition exists after four hours? Hey Mom! why are those people in separate tubs touching each other? Dad - do you have trouble starting and stopping? What's weak stream? Gimme a freaking break and why are they singling out males? are we the weak gender? What's next? dare i say it? "feminine" products? are they immune? There must be some standard of decency. I'm growing old...

cut from original

Stump was properly identified with all the right notes (oldest, almost died, etc.) way to go gang..

You always learn something. Girding our loins (strange phrase for which I would probably rather not know the derivation of ) for tomorrow, I had to check the spelling of that word about fear of the number 13(contained in the "happy" line today). well, guess what? now they have refined it to "fear of friday the thirteenth". Of course they had to top the triskai... word, so fear of that friday is dubbed: paraskevidekatriaphobia. Use that in your next conversation at happy hour.. sheesh.

I also got to looking at the calendar (I do that a lot lately) and noticed that there is that dreaded day not once, but twice this year as 1 February fell on a sunday and it's not a leap year. Then, I noticed that last year ('08) there was only one, 07 had two, 06 also two, '05 only one. There must be a formula that can tell you how many a given year has, but I don't know what it would be...maybe that's the homework..maybe not

And of course we all know that today is Abe Lincoln's 200th birthday but did you know (I'll save the quiz today) that it is also Charles Darwin's 200th Birthday? don't know how that escaped me all these years, but seems like one would know that..

Believe it or not, I always do spell check before I hit send, and it didn't mind either of those 13 related words...

way to go tarheels!

DFD
Bon Appetit
17

Fried Oysters

A couple of civic related meetings late yesterday afternoon afforded an unexpected opportunity to sample some food (it's always about the food).

First meeting was called at Blue Wind Gourmet (hey - meeting and wine, how can you beat that?). I think I have mentioned that they are instituting some "happy hour" (45 minute) wine education on Mondays and cooking demos on Tuesdays. Our meeting ran almost until the starting time of the cooking stuff and we got a chance to preview some of the evenings fare, various legumes. Three little cups of "soup" which were apparently later turned in to sauces courtesy of a blender were sampled. One each from cannelloni beans, black beans, and lentils were tried. All were good and made me wish I could have stayed, but no, duty called and off to the next meeting at Clarke's Landing.

Although it was pretty much early bird hour, we decided to have food whilst discussing worldly local (cute, eh?) matters. I have not been at Clarke's since the summer when it gave me reason for continued recommendations and cause to leave it "on the list". We were seated in the inside dining area at a table affording some room for our paperwork. Menus and the rolled up paper napkin with tableware awaited, and then the little dish of strange (but tasty Neufchatel?) dip and basket of plastic wrapped crackers was delivered along with the dreaded "Hi, I'm.taking care of you".

Specials were enunciated from notes, drink orders taken and off she went to assure we were taken care of. After some more business discussions. we turned to the menus. I think they have been re-tooled, it's still a tri-fold laminated affair, but maybe graphically a little slicker and bluer than my always questionable memory recalled. I also don't recall seeing the time honored "Crab Muffin" although a quick web search still showed it. What I am fairly certain of is that the prices have also been re-tooled as I couldn't find many mains under twenty bucks. Anyway crab cakes (market price) were ordered along with the special of bourbon marinated steak and I took the fried oyster special. Selecting the southern Maryland standard "two sides" is always confusing, but everything was finally put in place.

More work, then my (side one) side salad arrived and it was good enough, although whole red onion rings always pose some eating challenges. However, I will give continued marks for their ample portion of a pretty tasty blue cheese dressing. More business, and the entrees arrived soon there after (dining room still pretty empty). As readers will recall, lately I have somehow have been exposed to Bailey's fried oysters fairly often and when the Clarke's version arrived I wished I could have switched. Instead of a three dimensional crispy oyster I was presented with items that looked more like McNuggets. Flat, tear shaped (I think) oysters coated in a dull brown gummy coating. The first taste brought to mind old, used, fishy fry oil with a slightly tangy taste. The oyster (?) had completely given up any liquid, and had relaxed into that flat teardrop form leaving only tough stuff to chew. Had I not been in a meeting atmosphere I would have sent it back. Really. Side two of fries were hot and crispy which made me wish the oysters followed suit. Oh, the bourbon marinated rib eye steak was nibbled at and then pretty much left intact. The person taking care of us inquired if it was not to her liking, and the reply of "it was pretty tough" was met with "I'll tell the chef". There in fact was indeed a chance to "take care
of us", but no further feedback was given nor was it removed from the check.

The diner decided to take it home, as "the dog will like it". So, I will try to check again before any change in recommendation is levied, but this evening was a poor offering. A return visit will be done out of necessity, not choice.

DFD

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