Ord-shv 787
 

787 inaugural DFW-ORD (we obviously weren't on it).

As we anticipated some festivities at the gate, we got an
early shuttle to the airport and arrived at L10 in the
depressing part of Terminal C, where they had set up a
somewhat gala reception for the crowd of dignitaries and
enthusiasts who had turned up for the occasion.

Being the custodian of my friend Annie's camera, I snapped
a bunch of shots of the 787's first commercial at least
visit to Chicago.

Before the hordes debarked, we rushed off to the Admiral's
Club, where we staked out a nice spot in the quiet room.

At some point, on one of my trips to refill our glasses of
the light, pineapplish house red wine, I ran into the
happy bunch who had been on the flight, of whom I knew
oh, maybe, 20. Friendly Skies, legalalien, techgirl,
ParanoiaTX, and a passel of others; there were supposedly
upward of 75 FTMMers on that trip, with more who hadn't
signed up on the thread.

As we were scheduled on the return to Dallas, we went
back to L10, where we were given bags of a strange mixture
of cheesy and caramel popcorn courtesy of Garrett, a local
snack company. The combination (I didn't taste until later)
actually kind of works.

They handed out commemorative amenity kits that included
that same Garrett popcorn (Chicago origin) and Dallas
Popcorn Co. popcorn (from Hyattsville, MD), an iPad cover,
and an i-device charger.

AA2334 ORD DFW 1210 1454 788 12AB

We got two seats in a three row, and the unfortunate third,
an active-duty military guy who had zero idea of what was
going on, turned out not to have gotten a kit. I offered
him mine, which he initially accepted and then decided he
would go back off the plane and get one of his own, which
he eventually did, so I got mine back, though I gave it
away to person or persons unknown.

kiwi Flyer, the most extraordinary traveler I know, was in
6A a few rows ahead, and I went up there for a visit; he very
kindly offered to let me sit in the seat (I accepted for a short
while) and taste the festive meal (looked like Chef Boyardee
rigatoni in tomato sauce with cheese; I declined the honor).

It was a nice and pretty pumped crew, different from the
inaugural one; they kept asking those who were doing the
round trip whether their service was up to that of the
other flight - from what I heard, the answer was yes.

Off to the Admiral's Club right by the gate for drinks and
chats with kiwi, who had charmed the desk into giving him
an excess of drink coupons, so instead of the usual swill
I asked for a Pyrat XO in a snifter ,,, and was given
something strange, which turned out to be Captain Morgan,
which does not go well in a snifter. I had to get a Coke to
balance it out. We decided this was a cue to get out of
there, so we said goodbye to Kiwi and went two terminals
down to the Centurion lounge, whose catering is designed if
not executed by Dean Fearing.

The offerings included fideo with winter vegetables and
grana, totally tasteless; short rib tacos with not so much
short rib in them, despite which they kept running out; and
smoked chicken enchiladas, which were surprisingly okay.
Also surprisingly okay were refritos and surprisingly
unokay was rice. We witnessed a couple of southern origin
who exclaimed excitedly in Spanish "!arroz y frijoles!" when
they saw them. Almond cake for afters.

Given the good things I'd heard about the San Francisco
one, and considering that Dallas is the equal of that city
in wealth and pretension, I found the place unimpressive
enough. On a subsequent visit the food was substantially
better, though the boozal situation was not. Which
included a line at the bar, which periodically went
unattended; it turns out that you can give a roving waitress
a buck, and she gets the stuff much faster than you can
yourself. My drink of choice was Remy Martin VSOP; lili's a
couple glasses of a reasonable Rhone.

AA2661 DFW SHV 1840 1946 ER4 4AC

Adding the extra runout cut the price almost in half, so
we ended up at the nasty, brutish, and short Shreveport
airport, where the hotel shuttle, which came in its own
good time, was manned by a guy and a girl who made fun of
our decision to do the tourist thing in a has-been or
perhaps never-was town. Turns out the girl, who I thought
at first was the driver's girlfriend, was a hotel guest,
here for work, who had been running errands about town.

It was hot and dank and muggy and rainy, so my thought of
going for a walk along the river was scotched by the
prospect of some Scotch. Scotch, even bad Scotch, is good.

The Hilton Shreveport is actually fairly nice, attached
as many such hotels are to the local convention center,
which hosts oil people and who knows what else. In the
off season the rates are pretty good, and the rooms, though
not the latest thing, are quite comfy.

We got the corner room on the top floor, which was big
enough. I could I suppose have spent a hundred bucks for a
junior suite and then been upgraded to a real suite, but as
befits a retired person I cheaped out. There was enough
space, and the view over the city toward the bayou and the
river might have been nice if it hadn't been raining.

The diamond breakfast is a continental, but in addition
to the usual run of cereal and other starchy things had
smoked salmon for me and fresh berries for her. We were
given the option of upgrading for an exorbitant sum to the
full, which added eggs to order, sausage, bacon, and fried
potatoes. Not worth it. I had two plates of salmon.

Outside it was cool and rainy, but it sort of cleared up
during the day, so we took that walk: it looks as though
someone had once had big plans for the waterfront, but
as many big plans go, they had been only partially
implemented. Sort of sad. The place has some, although
modest, potential.

The Blind Tiger is said to have the best Cajun food and
burgers in town, so we showed up at opening time, 11 I
think, and there were already people hanging around
waiting to be served. We decided to sit at the bar, as
time was short. The bartender was a hoot. lili asked
about wine, and she made a face and admitted that all they
poured was Sutter Home, and "many of the people who order
it don't like it." One lost sale from honesty, as lili
stuck with water. I had a Abita double turbo something - a
deep brown ale, thick, sweetish, malty, more a cool climate
warmer than something you'd expect to drink in Louisiana.

Though we'd put an expedite on our food, it was slow in
coming and basically not worth the effort.

Crawfish tails were salty as all getout, the breading
overapplied but at least crunchy. A cup of gumbo was gumbo,
though not spicy enough. I believe the food may have come
from the same factory as other faux Cajun places worldwide.
A request for hot sauce yielded bottles of Tabasco and
Louisiana, both too sour and not nearly hot enough for my
tastes.

lili's burger medium-rare came brown all through with
crispy edges. It did taste like meat, though.

It was soon time to head back for our ride to the airport,
so goodbye to the good bartender and the mediocre food.

So we wanted the noon shuttle, and as we trudged back, at
about five of we saw the van zooming away down the road,
and so uh-oh, as it was scheduled every half hour only.
Inquired at the desk, where they said she'd be right back,
and in fact she was ready to take us at about 10 after,
having dropped her previous guests off at lunch, probably
at Blind Tiger, from which we had just come.

She's a college student working on a business major, cute
and bright and will go far.

We got to the airport in plenty of time, especially
considering that the inbound was stuck back in Dallas for
thunderstorms or something.

AA2604 SHV DFW 1328 1431 CRJ 8AC

Every half hour they announced another half hour's delay;
this bothered some of the passengers who had shortish
connections. Turned out it didn't take off until about 3,
which messed up a lot of plans. Bumpy unpleasant flight
with no service, not the fault of American Eagle. We
landed a couple hours and change late. When we wanted to
transfer from the one terminal to the next, the shuttle we
were on decided obnoxiously to break down, stopping the
clockwise flow, and we ended up having to take the other
train all the way around the airport, and we were sweating
it out when we arrived in the midst of boarding.

AA2331 DFW ORD 1725 1953 788 8AC

The flight boarded close to on time, and we started
taxiing, but then came the announcement that we'd be
hanging around for an hour. Thunderstorms.

Extremely poor service on this leg, nonexistent during the
hour we sat in the penalty box despite the captain saying
that he was authorizing a cabin service while on the ground.
Surly flight attendants, their mood probably not improved by
the delays - bad enough that I came close to phoning in a
complaint, but then I gave them a pass for having been on
their feet all day; but in general poor representatives for
American Airlines, in contrast to most of the other crews on
this trip.

And to top it off, when we landed there was another 41
minutes waiting for our gate to be ready for us.

We got in way late, and it was dark, and any thought of a
nice meal had gone by the wayside.

The Westin O'Hare is also pretty nice, looking kind of like
various other Westins. The room looked familiar, too, but
that was because it's designed the same way as the Westin
LAX and the Westin IAD and probably numerous others. The
good thing is that these hotels have bar-restaurants
designed for distressed travelers; these tend to serve okay
food.

We got down to the restaurant with half an hour to spare.
The waiter was caring, competent, and unhurried. I got the
honey soy glazed pork belly, which despite being tarted up
with strewings of microgreens and such, I can recommend
highly. I got a sizable end-of-the-evening serving that was
big enough for a main dish, plus it tasted good, with the
sweetness and Asianness understated, and lots of rich pigfat
to adjust my attitude. lili's French onion soup passed the
test with flying colors as well; speaking of which, I got us
a bottle of Colores del Sol 2013 Malbec reserva, which was a
little thin and lacking in color but respectable, better than
most of the wine we'd had for the past several days.

AA2337 ORD DFW 0825 1100 M80 21AB

No upgrade for me, and lili had herself downgraded to keep
me company, a nice gesture.

Another weather-affected flight, though these tough old
birds fly through just about anything, and though we
jounced about quite a bit, we were on schedule for a change.

The flight attendants were substantially nicer than on
the previous flight, plus as the seatmate of an Executive
Platinum I got free stuff, including free-flowing Dos Equis
(a beer that used to be respectable but now tastes no nicer
than Budweiser), and this tiny tube of Pringles whose list
price is $4, or about what you'd pay per ounce for a steak
at the Texas Roadhouse.

AA1544 DFW IAD 1330 1726 M80 20AB

A rematch with the Centurion, where though the menu was
the same, the food was quite a bit better, especially the
short rib thingies, which were packed with meat. A server
who had waited on us cheerfully on the last visit appeared
glad to see us, so I guess a buck tip is still considered
adequate.

Again no upgrade, but another perfectly adequate flight
that as usual came in not exactly on time. What also didn't
appear on time was the Westin Dulles shuttle, but it was
okay out, and people were generally cheerful at the bus
stop, and all was right with the world, except I wanted to
get some food into me and get some sleep. Eventually we
got to the hotel, which looks very much like the other
one we were just staying in.

It was a little beyond the businesspeople with an early day
tomorrow dinnertime and not yet the pickup bar time, but
still the service was slow; plus the guy who was there when
we arrived spilled dirty wash water on me and didn't make
any apology or even acknowledgement until I asked for a
couple napkins to sop up the mess. Thereafter someone else,
the black guy, very competent and cheerful, served us.

lili ordered a cheap Barolo, which tasted about equally
cheap and Barolo. I had a Great Lakes double dark ale that
was very tasty but that I think must have had unadvertised
lactose in the formula, because afterward I got really,
really sick.

Her main course was a quite good burger and fries; mine was
the sirloin strip with chive mash and onion strings, only $4
more than the burger (on the room service menu it's twice
the burger). Turns out that it's a half strip, an inch thick
but bisected widthwise, just a perfect size for a light meal.
Its vegetable was a leek and oyster mushroom stew that was
just brilliant, especially with the decent demi-glace that
had been splashed over. I presume you get the full steak
from room service.

It was a relatively sleepless night - I started off sick
sick sick and progressed to sick sick and then just very
queasy. I wasn't eager to get on another plane, but those
segments kept a-callin'. So the 0600 shuttle was the next
order of the day, and it came way too soon.

AA2275 IAD LAX 0750 1027 738 6F, 3A

Tiffany was a bright and outgoing attendant; the other FA,
whose name I've forgotten, was having a seriously bad day
and did beverage and snack service only with the greatest
reluctance and in fact offered me no drink at all. I didn't
bother her, as I was in somewhat fragile condition and
didn't want to bother my seatmate too much.

After that flight, we rejoined at the club, which was
oversubscribed, and it was a while before we could find a
place with plugs to sit at, and when we did, it and the
adjacent table were sticky with spilled drinks. At some
point cleaner and more agreeable seats opened up, at
which point miraculously a staff person swooped down and
cleaned up our previous spot.

AA2876 LAX SAN 1255 1341 EM2 7AB

This of course leaves from the commuter terminal, and so
we bade goodbye to the club and took the bus over there.
Turns out there is another club there, small but reasonably
stocked; I got us a couple glasses of red wine, and soon
enough it was time to board our next half-hour leg, which
was unnotable, there being little or no Weather in this part
of the world, and the local flight attendant being at
least outwardly cheerful.

lili got her chariot out of hock and drove me to my next
haven, the Four Points Kearny Mesa, which I find agreeable
enough, despite its sparse interpretation of Spanish patio
chic. The room came with two beds, so I invited her to stay
over, but she had been gone from home too long.

One last meal together, with me eating most of the stuff,
at Wa Dining Okan, a mile down the road from the hotel in
a crowded but unspecial-looking strip mall. This is the
southern California version of an izakaya; the food is not
cheap but mostly pretty well executed. The waits can run
close to an hour - the place is tiny, and the reputation
is exalted, and most of the dishes are done to order.

We started, or I did (no way would she eat any of this
stuff) with a special of scallop sea urchin carpaccio: the
scallops were good for modern scallops, not nearly so nice
as those from my childhood or any time before about 20
years ago; the uni were way small and of variable quality.
Too much soy sauce. Nice try, but not so special.

lili got to go to town with the soy-sauce braised pork
belly, which I thought not tender enough and not fatty
enough, but the flavors were good.

Fried shrimp were pretty good, the shrimp very tasty but
brined so the natural sweetness was no match for the salt.
Also, they had been butterflied, which lifted the shells
from the meat and made them crispy almost like puff pastry,
but the meat itself was a bit less tender than I'd have
liked.

Chicken thigh and green onion skewers were just what you'd
expect and rounded out lili's meal.

Special pudding was not so special - rather bland but not
unpleasant, notable for being drowned in some black
molasseslike substance.

I had Sapporo beer throughout the meal.

The wine lili got was sweet and obvious and not altogether
too bad, better than coach wine and not so good as first
class wine. It was Sutter Home.

Everything except the special carpaccio was reasonable in
price. Everything was good but not exceptional.

After dinner, we said goodbye and I got dropped off.
Bedtime was nice. Late checkout was nicer.

After which I continued on a segment run that, when I
started writing about it, I realized to have no interest and
no didactic value to anyone, so we shall end here.

violist sorry I missed your report until now. It was nice to catch up. Sorry you got caught in the storms the next day - my flight left close to schedule.