6/2016 UA Inaugural SFO-SIN in coach, etc.
 

UA 560 IAD SFO 1452 1750 739 3A
was
1594 DCA IAH 1223 1454 73G 2A
1594 IAH SFO 1604 1825 320 2A

I got to experience clubs both at DCA and IAD, in this wise:
so everything was hunky-dory until boarding time for 1594,
when at the gate we got the news that owing to a malfunction
in the radar system we were going to be boarding, the gate
agent estimated, 15 minutes late. He had already boarded a
wheelchair passenger, but as one eagle-eyed person in our
line pointed out, he'd then gone ahead and deboarded the
person. Okay, my spider sense said go to the RCC and change
my ticket; the helpful agent put me on the IAD nonstop, a
loss of 400 qualifying miles, not that I need these, and
gave me a voucher for taxi fare. Out back on the economy,
where I found a pleasant Ethiopian guy who accepted the
$77 voucher for an $85 fare (he got a decent tip). We
spent a pleasant hour gabbing about the role of China
in the African and American economies, and pretty soon
I was back inside security with half an hour to taste the
club's garden vegetable soup (based on a pretty tasty
tomato broth) and an interesting new soybean and corn
salad in a very garlicky Italian dressing.

I wonder why the occasional United flight is stuck way
far off from all its sister flights. Anyhow, that's the
way it was, and by the time I'd limped over to D21,
boarding was half done or more.

Situated myself in my semi-comfy seat and tried to stay
awake so I'd be sufficiently fatigued to sleep in coach
on my longhaul.

Warm nuts, mostly salty cashew shards and a few squeaky
almonds.

A salad with edamame and dried tomatoes, not bad.

The meal. Shanghai noodles with vegetable pot stickers -
the noodles were dreadful, gummy, sweet-salty, tasting
of somewhat over the hill mixed veg. The dumplings,
filled with cabbage, carrots, mushrooms, and tofu,
were better but ruined by a sweet metallic sauce.

The other choices werre chicken with garlic polenta
and salmon with rice. I neither saw nor smelled these,
which meant that they couldn't have been worse than
what I had attempted to eat.

A cookie for afters.

Service was very agreeable, and there were several
opportunities for Courvoisier, some of which I took.

The club at the 60s gates was very crowded. Soups
were loaded baked potato and mushroom brie, both of
which I've had suboptimal encounters with before. A
tray of cheese cubes and another of mortadella and a
kind of chorizo that was quite paprikaful and a bit
putrid but in a good way.

Over to the international departures, where I learned
that there was going to be a party starting around 9.

The club at the 90s gates offered the usual run of
cheeses, prosciutto, and some genoalike substance,
along with loaded potato and mushroom brie soups,
which I'd had previous run-ins with and so didn't
bother rousing.

I found a nice desk to hang out in next to some guy
dovening in the corner, quietly at least.

There were these pie things: I had a half piece of
pecan, which was pretty decent. The others appeared
to be Key lime, apple, and some chocolate stroozly
substance.

Time to go to the gate to see what was what. There
was already a sizable crowd, largely much better
dressed than I and with a dignitarylike aspect (I
figured that's why the front cabin had been zeroed
out since the flight came up for sale in January.)

Festive snacks: curry puffs, which I overheard the
server telling someone was vegetarian; I found a
nice big piece of chicken skin in mine, good for
me, perhaps not so for vegetarians; and surprisingly
juicy chicken satays with a peanut sauce that had
been unadvertisedly zinged up with mustard.

Desserts included green tea cake and mango pudding,
the former not charming enough for me to try, the
latter undone by tiny perfect dice of crunchy
underripe fruit.

Many speeches - dignitaries included the consul
general of Singapore, the ambassador of Singapore,
the mayor's office director of tourism, and various
United and airport officials. I didn't pay any
attention to any of these.

We boarded up around five minutes early, each of
us being issueed a United/Star Alliance billfold
for the occasion.

UA 1 SFO SIN 2325 0645 789 27C +2

This was the inaugural trip of the longest 787
flight, the longest passenger flight by an
American-flag carrier, the second longest ever
flight by an American-flag carrier (Delta had
Mumbai to Atlanta, 64 miles more, for a while),
the third longest flight period, and the seventh
longest flight in history. And with me in coach.
At least it was reputed to be a good coach seat.

At each seat: a colorful certificate that
congratulated us for being passengers on the
historic trip, adorned with Oscar's grainy
scanned signature.

My seatmates were a Chinese kid and this
middle-aged 6'9 guy who spilled out of his seat
in every direction - I felt kind of sorry for
him, as he admitted that uncomfy as this
appeared to be, it was the best seat for him,
even business class beds being sheer torture
for him.

For me, the seat was perfectly okay, though I
kept being bumped (mostly accidentally I think)
by people in the aisle going past. There were
moments when I wished I'd chosen the window
seat, and next time I'm in coach on this kind of
aircraft, maybe I'll do that. The first row of
Economy Plus on the aisle might be a good
choice as well from the look of it.

I didn't take the proffered meal, which was
announced in the usual curt way, "chicken or
pasta," instead settling for three glasses of
red plonk, after which I slept for a good long
time, totalling 10 out of the 16 hour flight.

Breakfast came all too soon: noodles or eggs.
I chose wrong; probably anything I chose would
have been wrong. The noodles tasted like dirt
smells and were topped by undercooked frozen
succotash and a few edamame put there probably
because the dietician in charge reminded the
caterers that some protein was necessary. A
roll whose toughness could be felt through
its plastic wrap and a fairly standard almond
cookie, which was undoubtedly the best thing
on the tray and provided most of my calories.

In general the service was nothing to complain
about - the crew did their job efficiently and
with good humor. They seemed to give a modestly
preferential treatment to old people, and I did
get my three glasses (a cup each, so a whole
bottle total) of wine.

We landed about on time, got a water salute,
and parked halfway down the F50-60 pier I
think it was. There to greet us were assorted
local officials, a person prancing around in a
dragon suit, and an animated Max airplane (I
didn't get close enough to see if it was an
animatronic or a human in a costume.

There was no point going in town, as I had
noplace to go for a good long time, so I had
the choice of waiting until noon (5 hours -
but this is not a bad airport to wait) for
the Cocktail Festival to start up at the
Duty-Free in Terminal 3 or go early to the
hotel, where from experience I knew that
they'd let me use the lounge before checkin
(and after checkout as well), but my room
wouldn't be ready until 3 or 4.

The Cocktail Festival it was. I snoozed (the
quiet area was not totally full) and did the
e-mail and dreamed of trying Veuve Cliquot
Rich, the sponsor of this day. So around
quarter past 12 I moseyed up to the Long Bar,
where the cocktail tasting was supposed to be,
only to find that there was nobody there. A
not-too-friendly sales agent told me that the
people hadn't arrived yet and probably
wouldn't be there until evening! Well, I
thought, might as well go downtown and find
someplace for lunch and then take advantage
of the Conrad lounge, where, as I recalled,
wine flowed free day and night.

So off to Ippudo, see below, and then to the
hotel, which has long been a favorite of mine,
despite something going peculiarly (but
amusingly and fixably) wrong almost every
time. This time, nothing went wrong.

My room, a corner on the second-to-top floor,
wasn't ready, so I settled for relatively
modest digs 6 floors below, because I really
needed to crash. Okay, it was an American-size
room. quite big by Asian or European standards,
nothing to complain about at all, with a nice
view of the Fountain of Wealth (they seem to
think I'm a businessman and usually give me a
room on this side of the hotel, though last
time with lili I'd got one on the Pan Pacific
side, maybe because the rooms on the
businessman side have only one bed). Oh,
yeah, though the rubber ducky is still the
same, the Conrad bear has gone from being
that cute robust cuddly toy to a sad skinny
fabric one.

Sad news about the executive lounge for my
alcoholic friends. It's no longer free booze
on demand. You get free-flow alcohol only
between 5:30 and 8. Nonetheless, they gave
me my obligatory Tiger beer on check-in,
though they giggled nervously and acted as if
I were being extremely bold and iconoclastic.
I've since compared notes with various other
travelers, and the consensus is that in the
last year or two both Singapore and Malaysia
have become substantially more puritanical,
perhaps Islamist.

Oscar's breakfast. I had originally been given
the erroneous news by a young concierge that
breakfast was to be at the executive lounge,
rather than the way it used to be, with a
choice among three locations - the lounge,
Oscar's, or at the pool level. Further inquiry
yielded that the same options are still
available, but as it cost more for them to do
the more elaborate spread at Oscar's, they were
not telling anyone about it.

The lounge breakfast is pretty basic - one or
two kinds of dim sum, one kind of eggs (though I
am told you can special order other egg dishes,
and they'll be brought up from downstairs),
chicken sausage, bacon, baked beans, a fairly
good assortment of pastries and fruit.

At Oscar's you get all of these plus Indian
and Chinese breakfasts, lots more kinds of
fruit and fruit juices, plus the famous waffles
and pancakes and ice cream. I will admit that
once I took advantaage of this last with a
scoop each of Swiss chocolate (pretty good,
what in the states we call chocolate chocolate
chip) and espresso croquant. Notes: the Indian
things are pretty decent - I've written about
how Indian food tends to be a good bet on
buffets, because it reheats really well, and
the yellow dal makhni I think it was was almost
sufficiently spicy. I turnip my nose at the
Chinese stuff; the one time I had the turnip
cake it was bland beyond bland. The best things
I had were smoked salmon (an ugly and careless
presentation compared to years past), a bland
but extremely high quality braised tofu in soy,
and pink grapefruit juice. The worst, chicken
sausage, chicken siu mai, and gummy vegetarian
noodles (not as bad as United Airlines coach or
domestic first noodles, but worse than United
Airlines business noodles).

Things eaten in Singapore. Aside from the hotel
food, which was abundant, accessible, and free
(so I had the majority of my calories there), I
ate at chains about once a day to keep the
Singapore economy going but not so much. Here
are three that I hit - all Asian chains, the
first two having in the range of 50-100 outlets,
the third I'm not so sure, because its Website
is hacked and the location link takes me to a
lonely hearts site, but it's not quite so big.
Also, all the meals I had had a pasta base, as
I was cheap, having splurged on the Conrad for
$125 + 25000 points a night (essentially $250
a night, but I'm relatively points rich and
dollars poor); and for protein I relied on the
breakfast at Oscar's and evening hors d'oeuvres
at the executive lounge.

Tai Hing [Changi] is a pretty well thought of
Hong Kong chain, known for its roast meats and
noodly things. Accordingly I had noodle soup
with a side of roast duck. The soup tasted
like dishwater, but the noodles were though I
think from frozen pretty decent. The duck,
a quarter less maybe a couple slices for the
cook, was inexpertly cut, raggedy, limp-skinned,
but extremely good tasting, almost competing
with Yan Toh Heen in Hong Kong last month. I
seem to recall reading that there are 85
locations. I'd probably go back, because I
got very tasty poultry for a moderate price.

Ippudo Ramen - a Japanese-based chain with 65
restaurants in Japan and a bunch elsewhere,
including Sydney, New York, San Fran, Bangkok,
Kuala Lumpur, Jakarta, and here. Their standard
is a pork-bone broth in the Hakata style. I
discovered that here chashu costs extra -
what's ramen without roast pork? so I got a
serving, 4 smallish slices of pork belly (the
equivalent of 2 thick-cut slices of bacon) for
$2 extra. The ramen was done hard, but the
soup was really hot, so by the end of the
bowl, the noodles were just right. The broth
had a lot of MSG in it so tasted pretty good
and cried out for beer, which is kind of
expensive in Singapore, so I got a Coke (also
expensive - $2 for a maybe 250 ml can). The
chashu was decent, nothing to write home about,
not enough of a fatty layer and a little on
the fibrous side; it did taste good and was
necessary to the bowl's integrity. Speaking
of which, I was going to add a shake of sesame
seeds to the bowl but discovered that the cook
had had it his way - premixed in were scallions,
pickled ginger, pickled vegetable, and way too
many sesame seeds. If I went back, I'd specify
what I did and didn't want for mix-ins.

Tim Ho Wan is said to be the cheapest Michelin-
starred restaurant in the world [note - as of
July 2016, that's not so anymore]. It's for sure
cheap, but Michelin-starred, that is up for
discussion. For one thing, the stars get given
and taken away with some regularity - the three
Hong Kong locations have had a checkered history.
The original got a star. Then a second opened,
and it got a star. Then a third opened and got
its star, but the second one lost its. Then the
original went out of business (the landlord
wanted to renegotiate the lease at apparently
exorbitant rates). Then the little chain started
to expand, and now it is represented in 10 or
more countries (SF and NYC in the US) with
multiple locations in some cities. I went to
the most convenient one for me, accessible even
in foul weather without going outside through a
half-mile of mazy over- and underground passages.
This one is really unprepossessing, being in a
strip mall that lines the corridor connecting
two subway stations, Esplanade and City Hall.
When I saw it I thought of chickening out and
taking the tube to another location, but I
stuck it out and was glad I did. There are
about 25 items on the menu, plus half a dozen
drinks, plus beer, which costs more than at
the hotel. Four of the dishes, pork liver
vermicelli roll, steamed egg cake, turnip
cake, and pork buns, are given the monicker
Big Four Heavenly Kings, which to me translates
as Big Four Heavenly Profits; nonetheless, who
can resist pork liver vermicelli roll? So I got
an order - three medium-size blobs of the usual
sort with a much more delicate wrapper than I am
used to, filled with all these little maybe half
inch bits of liver, each cooked perfectly medium
rare like little tiny steaks - truly artfully
done. The sauce was an extremely savory soy-and-
broth-based thing. I could live on this; it
was one of the most amazing things I've ever
eaten; and to think it was found in a corridor
between two train stations.

Spinach dumplings with shrimp sounded good;
when they came, the wrappers were also
extraordinarily delicate, almost too delicate,
as their stickiness made it hard to separate
them from the paper lining of the steamer.
Inside - odd bits of ground protein that I
couldn't figure out but decided were tofu,
pretty delicious steamed spinach, in a
largish mass, lots and lots of garlic, and
a small shrimp or perhaps a piece of a
larger shrimp. Incredible texture and
substantial satisfyingness.

One of the specials of the month was lychee
custard puff: I was expecting maybe a riff on
the Hong Kong egg tart with bits of lychee or
maybe just lychee flavoring. What came -
fresh lychees with the stones replaced by
egg custard, the whole coated in a very
light batter and deep-fried. The first,
piping hot, was a revelation. The second,
now that I knew what to expect, merely very
good. The last, having started to cool off,
pretty decent. I recommend ordering this
only if you have a party of three! Sadly, I
discovered later that each city has a
different set of specials of the month.

As beer was quite expensive, I had the
homemade longan drink, which tasted like
diluted prune juice but was not bad for
that. It was dark like prune juice, so
it must have been made either from
overripe longans or dried ones.

I was going to hit Din Tai Fung (there
are 19 of these in Singapore) but was too
cheap and figured I could get my fix in
Kuala Lumpur for half the price, and the
Tim Ho Wan experience was too good to
forget, and I thought that that even
the biggest name in dim sum wouldn't be
able to come close.

From the hotel to the airport by MRT
is 45 minutes and a couple bucks. I
think the bus is about the same price.
The taxi, marginally faster at best,
costs 10 times as much.

MH 614 SIN KUL 1105 1250 738 2A

The Malaysia counters were chockablock;
there's a bank of check-in machines by them;
wondering why nobody was using them, I
wandered over the 6 feet to see what was what.
Turns out that despite the Singapore desks
being in another aisle altogether, the only
machine check-in possibilities were Singapore
or SilkAir. While I was puzzling over this
Singaporean silliness, speaking of which,
some SATS guy came up and asked me what
airline I was flying. I answered in my most
clear enunciation, Ma-lay-see-an, in the
Malaysian way. He went, what, what, I didn't
understand you. So I repeated myself. So he
repeated himself louder. Eventually I said,
MH, and he sneered, oh, Malayshan (in the
Singaporean way) and pointed me to the
business counter, where I waited five for
the girl to serve a couple of relatively
confused customers and then received my
boarding pass in moments. I think he was
disappointed that I didn't get kicked out of
that line, and when I went back to "thank"
him, he hung his head and wouldn't look at me.
It was amusing but almost irritating enough to
complain to SATS about. Makes me wonder what
other shibboleths I am ignorant of, not that
I should really care.

Emigration: two minutes flat counting the line.

One turns right at the shuttered Golden Lounge
to get to its replacement, the SATS lounge. I
was kind of sad, but in truth it's a perfectly
respectable facility.

The red wine on offer was Pierre-Jean Cabernet-
Merlot (Vallee de l'Aude) 15 - it tasted rather
cheap, and the best I can say for it is that it
went nicely with Coke. Luckily on my next trip,
I thought, I will have access to the Silver Kris,
where the wine might be a tad better.

With my laksa, below, I tried Michel Torino
Chardonnay (Calchaqui Valley) 15, which despite
being over-tropical-fruited was pleasantly crisp
and went pretty well.

The signature laksa smelled like sotong busuk,
but I gave it a try. It tasted pretty good,
ginger, lime leaves, garlic, a whole lot of chile.

"Indian delights sambar," tamarind lentil soup,
was also pretty spicy, a little sour, decent.

As I had allowed only two hours or so between
the hotel and the flight, I didn't spend an
enormous amount of time, and soon I had to
hustle to the gate, where by the time I got
there, the security line was pretty long but
was quick enough.

The cabin was half full - 6 of 12 (or 16?).

On the flight, pleasant service, attentive
but not too attentive. Seats, pretty standard
- I remember back in the olden days when these
planes had footstools; the built-in mechanical
ones nowadays don't have that charm but I
guess must be deemed safer. The seats
themselves are fine, and the entertainment
system, well, I'd thought my headphones had
gone defective when I'd tried to use
them on United, but they were fine here.

The snack was chicken satay, tender but with a
baking sodaed texture, served with quite good
peanut sauce that I lapped up rapidly.

No alcohol, so I had guava juice, which was
almost as good.

Great TR - fun for the inaugural flight. But bummer that you didn't get to enjoy the cocktail party in SIN.
Don't know how the 6'9" pax can fly. Ouch on height!

As we'd come in on time, there was again no
reason to hurry, so I spent a whopping MYR10
($2.50) for the hour bus ride to Sentral
instead of MYR60 or so for the 40-min train
trip to the same place. An easy transfer to
the #5 Gombak light rail line (MYR 2.70, 67c
more), and in about 20 I was at Ampang Park
(Google overestimates the time by double or
so), where I followed the sign for the
Doubletree. Guess what? It points in the
wrong direction, and I had to ask at a
stall how to get there. They are apparently
used to this question.

The Doubletree Kuala Lumpur is the gem of the
Intermark shopping center, whose construction
is probably the final nail in the coffin for
the Ampang Park shopping center, which is more
a collection of little mom and pop shops, each
of which now sports a pathetic sign that says
"PLEASE SAVE AMPANG PARK." Kind of sad. It
calls itself a five-star hotel, and though I
was a little sceptical, experience says to me,
four at least, not quite at the level of the
big guns in town or around the world, but very
nice. Plus with the buy four get one free on
miles you can get five nights at an undeniably
superior place for the price of one night at,
say, the Hampton Inn Logan Airport. As I type,
I have only a few hours left here, but I'll
certainly be back.

I was invited to check in at the lounge on 34;
the pleasant desk agent escorted me up there
and handed me over to a very suave young lady
who after some checking said that my room was
not ready owing to a late checkout, so I hung
around the lounge a couple hours! drinking
them out of Schweppes bitter lemon, alcohol
not being available until 5:30.

Was the room worth the wait? I guess. Smaller
than the one at the Conrad but more modernly
and perhaps more nicely appointed and 1/6 the
price in points. And, as the concierge pointed
out, only 100 feet from breakfast and cocktails.

I was settling in when some guy knocked to offer
a fruit plate and a pastry plate. The fruit -
two apples, an orange, and an Asian pear - were
like rocks and remained inedible for at least
two and in some cases three days. The pastries
included a relatively salty and unsweet banana
cake with 38 layers, I counted them. I can see
32 or maybe 36, but why 38? It was densely
spongy, like one of those miracle wipers that
is thin thin until you wet it, and then it
puffs up according to how much water you add.
This was maybe half watered.

Star anise cookies in the shape of a butterfly
were also salty and unsweetish and tasted like
a Chinese grocery store smells.

There was also a strange coconut digestive
biscuit that I actually liked.

After resting and freshening up I toddled over
for the last half of happy hour. The place was
chockablock, and it was a while before I found
a place to sit, near an amusing couple, Allan
and Mary, Midlanders relocated to India or
somesuch place. I had my fill of red wine,
Roberts Rock South African Cabernet-Merlot,
which I stuck with for the week as it was
inoffensive and the kind of thing one gets
used to.

Over the days I investigated, various snacks,
some rather odd, that kept changing:

prawn paste fried in shredded wheat, okay;

sort of mystery meat in mystery pastry,
okay minus;

other Chinese-influenced but modest-tasting
dim-summy fried or baked pastries, okay to
good;

very dense beef meatballs in a brownish sauce
with some interesting name, but the taste was
not particularly, okay minus;

various kinds of samosas, good;

bao with kaya, quite good and a
counterexample to my hypothesis that there
wasn't a steamer upstairs;

"beef bolognese lasagne" in a cup - quite
good, actually;

various kinds of chicken wings, on one
occasion what appeared to be plain fried,
on another "barbecued," actually very good
and reminiscent of the sauce I had at some
place in Wheaton Plaza, Maryland in the late
1950s or early 1960s, on yet anoter something
with a fancy Malay name but tasted like plain
fried;

some fishy things, one a day, all of which
smelled bad to me;

fruits, of which the watermelon was excellent;
I was hoping for something more typical, but
the most native I could find was papaya that
wasn't as smelly as it should have been; lots
of rather too hard melon;

finger sandwiches, not for me;

various tofu preparations cuted up in Chinese
spoons - I had one on the first day and found
it okay but not going well with the wine;

beef rendang pie, of which I took one and on
a flyer decided to open up and look at: three
chunks, two of a good though underspiced chuck
beef stew, the third a piece of purest white
suet. I ate the fat.

Also sweets of native and European styles,
which I resisted fairly easily, though the
wild berry panna cotta and the classic
tiramisu, their words, were tempting, and I
might have tried one of each if they hadn't
run out of dessert spoons.

Not everything every day; though, except
on Saturday night, when the place was
overrun by lots of families with lots of
hungry children, there was plenty of
choice and plenty of food. Some days I
didn't partake, depending on the timing
of my heavy meal out.

For the first day of Ramadan, an assortment
of dried fruit, including three kinds of
dates - one small and round, gooey sweet,
very freestone; one medium-size, more
elongated, a little starchy, freestone;
and the third large and boxy-shaped,
gooey, less freestone.

On my last day: pandan pudding, nicely
scented with that vanilla-like fragrance,
topped with tiny tapioca balls, and a
creme caramel that was weirdly bitter
with crunchy bits of grass jelly-like
substance on top but eggy enough for that
to be forgiven. No spoons, so I was
forward this time and asked one of the
actually quite accommodating attendants
for one.

Booze: Captain Morgan alternating with
Havana Club, various white spirits
including I think Beefeater, and
Ballantine's alternating with Jack
black. Tiger beer and the
aforementioned Roberts Rock.

Breakfast could be had either at the
lounge just a hundred feet from my room
or down at the famed Makan Kitchen on the
11th floor. I chose downstairs every time
because of the variety, and the stuff
upstairs had no doubt been dumbwaitered
up from there anyway.

Stations: Malay, healthy, European, cereal,
pastry, yogurt, cheese and cold cuts,
noodle, omelette, soup, cured meat, Indian,
and Chinese.

Focusing on the first day, subsequent
things mostly the same, and I'll mention
them as I think of them.

From the Malay offerings there was a fish
and chile sambal, very strong and salty
and just the thing to liven up a diet of
rice upon rice, and a chicken rendang that
was scrumptious, though light on the
coconut and on the chile. Coconut rice.

From the healthy station, some nice ripe
smelly papaya (there are varieties that
exude a durianlike odor) and a juice bar
(orange, apple, guava, and something else).
Other fruits that I never got around to trying.

The cheese and cold cut station had only one
set of tongs for the whole thing, so when I
tried the duck ham, it ended up smelling of
but not tasting of blue cheese, not my
favorite thing. This obtained every day,
so I avoided it since.

Beef ham from the sausage and cured meat
section was ok but not to be repeated.
There were also chicken and veal bangers;
I didn't bother.

As people never tire of saying in their
Internet reviews, the Indian chef is the
best of the lot. I believe actually that
he is the head chef. Recurring: tomato
chutney, very good. Coconut chutney, even
more good. Pappadums in the shape of Fritos,
very good. Spiced uttapams, a bit lumpen and
starchy, also cold; nonetheless, very good
slathered with the chutneys. The one-off
coconut drop doughnuts, I don't know what
they're called, were pretty good. The first
day there was a weird spaghetti with tomato
fish sauce that the jury's still out on. It
didn't reappear. Each day a potato dish, the
first masala-ed, probably the best I've ever
had, but a little salty. Later some goopy
underseasoned things I didn't bother with or
didn't note; and a varuval that was pretty
nice. Sambar, quite good, very lentilly and
not so sour; I remained unconvinced by the
big chunks of al dente carrots, green pepper,
and - horrors - luffa. Chicken curry - very
good, very spicy. A fish curry that smelled
unpromising.

The Chinese section, which is in another room
altogether, didn't look all that interesting
except for the carrot cake that was offered on
the first day. I figured that as it's cheap and
easy to make, I'd try it another time, having
gorged myself on the Malay and Indian food
before finding the Chinese department. Wrong
choice - it was a one-off. At the counter there
was a sign advertising roast duck, but there
wasn't any - the sign must have been leftover
from dinner. Congee with interesting additives
- I did try some of these, a mixed pickled
vegetable, a thin-stemmed kind of cabbage, or
so the sign said, what was characterized as
olive leaves, and a pickled parsnip-like root.
These were salty, very salty, exceedingly salty,
and sweet and salty respectively. I figure
they're offered because of some putative
medicinal value rather than flavor. More
starches - a fried rice and a noodle dish,
changing daily, none particularly appetizing.
On one day a silken tofu with chicken mince and
scallions - very good.

There are two restaurants in Ampang Park with
similar names - Cozy Corner and Cozy House -
apparently it's the old story - two brothers
don't see eye to eye, they split, their
restaurants have similar names and are down
the block from each other, people get confused.
I was vaguely interested in this little drama
and to see what the results were, so I went to
the Ampang Park Shopping Center (across the
pedestrian walkway from the Intermark) and
poked my head into both. Sad to say, the smells
and the atmosphere at either did not encourage
me to stay, though the air conditioning was
working at one of them, I forget which.

Some say New Shanghai Legend has some of the
best dim sum around, so my original plan to
check out the KL branches of Din Tai Fung and
Tim Ho Wan were put on hold. It was Sunday noon,
a time when the places in my experience are
filled with happy families, but this restaurant
was totally empty, a bad sign.

I walked past it two or three times and wondered
if I should instead eat spag Bol at the place
down the way, but I decided to stick to my plan.

The hostess who eagerly accosted me on my last
pass through spoke decent English with a
charming accent, which clinched the deal.

Inside it was a little musty and had a touch of
that sour mildewy smell that you got before the
advent of air conditioning, even though the
dining room was cool enough.

I ordered four of my favorites.

They let you order the oatmeal prawn by the
each (just over US$1), so I got one to see
what it would be like. Turned out to be a
fried croquette whose flavor was between a
cereal prawn and that famous weird Hong Kong
dish fried shrimp with mayonnaise and fruit
cocktail. The croquette had about 4 or 5
small shrimp in a creamy sauce with a crunchy
cereal coating. My first bite was heaven, but
the rich whiteness dictated that it palled
quickly. There were also white and red cubes
in there as well, and I thought that they had
cleverly incorporated the fruit cocktail into
the croquette, but when I actually tasted
them, it turned out they were surimi, a
sizable disappointment. Not what I had
envisioned, which would have been a riff on
the Singaporean cereal prawn - a whole
creature rolled in the cereal of the day and
cooked in a hot wok; if it's made with
butter, it's called (duh) butter prawn.

Here an order of xiao long bao comes as a
measly two, and they are relatively expensive.
They are steamed in Chinese spoons, a cute
idea, and you eat each one right off the
spoon (hothothot) and slurp the juice. Well.
For starters, it's a good thing there were
those spoons, because one of them was
pre-busted, so it might as well have been
wonton in soup. The juice was okay, not very
rich, the filling rather coarse, without
enough fat, and underseasoned. Not the best
rendition ever, despite what the Internet
says. This came with a spoon of ginger
slivers and soy sauce.

Har gow had a stronger than usual sesame
scent but were otherwise standard, which
is to say pretty good. The shrimp inside
were fresh and crisp, the dough translucent
enough but bordering on the too firm. I'd
have liked a drop or two of soy for this,
too, but no. And there was none at table,
either.

A fried taro ball was unlike the usual - of
course I am used to it being filled with a
tablespoon of ground pork in a sauce
flavored with anise; this was of course
filled with little dice of stewed beef
round in soy, which was fine. The coating was
pretty standard, which is to say very good.

This all came to just over RM30; a Tiger
beer added RM15 plus tax, so my final outlay
came to just over US$12.

Maybe I should have had another beer. Ramadan
is coming up (Google says it's starting right
in an hour or two; other sources say tomorrow).
[contemporarily written report]

United are still serving cookies for desert.

This is one reason I avoid US airlines on long haul trips.

But I like the cookies.

Photos?

Being visually impaired, I'm not very into photos, and most
of the ones I take are not great.

Ok, I understand. Great report anyway

Nice TR. It's always amazing to see that people can survive in Y.

As much as I loath AC, I always liked their fresh baked cookies.

I always wondered why you also did not post pics in your TRs.

That said, pics are like pizza. I've never had horrible pizza. :-)

I'm not too badly off - I do have a camera, but I use it mostly
to take shots of things II'm interested in and blow them up to
actually see some details. Kind of amusing.

So those chain restaurants of a higher order
that I was talking about.

I was so impressed by the Tim Ho Wan in the
mall between City Hall and Esplanade that I
checked to see if there was one in KL, and it
seems there are in fact two, and there are five
Din Tai Fungs here as well. In fact, there is a
big fancy mall complex called Mid-Valley that
has one of each, and, wonder of wonders, one
can get to this wondrous place by public
transport with only one change.

Tim Ho Wan is between two malls that are
essentially one, Mid-Valley and The Garden, on
the ground floor, technically I think in The
Garden. It was hopping at lunchtime, and a
table for one was grudgingly given. Service
was pretty swift and unsmiling, as one might
expect. I ordered that same vermicelli sheet
with pig liver, and it was hugely different.
The one in Singapore was one of the better
things I've ever eaten; this was merely
average at best, the ineffable texture over
there replaced by a very ordinary wrapper such
as you can get for a buck at a million hawker
stalls throughout the world. The main
disappointment was the filling - there,
innumerable little medium-rare liver steaks,
here, shrivelled overcooked bits that could
have come out of a scrapple but in a bad
sense. Bitter, gamy, altogether not right.

Har gow were pretty good, but again average
and easily gettable for a quarter the price
elsewhere.

I decided to get the famous steamed egg cake;
it was actually quite good, a moist airy
texture with distinct brown sugar flavor;
the egginess that the reviewers refer to
and that I was looking forward to was a
mere whisper, though.

At the next table I watched a comfortable
young couple work their way through the
menu; while I was there they went through
at least 15 dishes. I shouldn't say anything
- when I was their age I probably could have
done the same.

Price: half what the one in Singapore had
been.

Quality: less than half what the one in
Singapore had been. I might go back to
see if it was just an off-day but at this
point do not recommend.

Went back south to check out the Din Tai
Fung to see if it measured up to the other
outlets I've been to or to its local
competition. This is in the basement that
connects the two malls, at the Garden end,
next to a roast duck place that I want to
try someday. I was welcomed pleasantly and
given a pretty nice table.

I wanted one of everything, and luckily
there was a "prestige set menu" offering
a large number of tastes for MYR55.

The appetizer of the day (by all reports,
it seems to be every day) a salad of
slivered bean curd, bean sprouts, seaweed,
and bean threads in a sesame, sugar, and
vinegar dressing. I was beginning to tuck
into this when other things that I
preferred started rolling in, and the
result was that this got pushed aside
and aside as my table got fuller and fuller.
It was mostly still there at the end of the
meal, the least (but not bad) of the things
to eat. So it went orphaned forever.

Then came a really peculiar version of zha
jiang mien, noodles usually in a dark
sweetish bean sauce with ground pork. I
make it myself this way, with scallions
on top. This came with bean curd dice and
steamed soybeans, which is the usual
vegetarianized substitution, but it also
had ground pork. What made it really
strange was the addition of bits of
tomato that had been marinated in soy
sauce - I suspect a case of Monsieur
Michelin strikes again. The noodles were
quite good, with nice flavor though done
just a tad past al dente.

Stir-fried pea shoots in garlic sauce were
the best I've ever had - tiny baby pea
shoots in a delicate sauce that was done
just so you barely noticed but did notice
the garlic in every bite from start to
finish.

Crab xiao long bao - a disappointment as
the crab really doesn't add anything but a
modest fishiness and a stringy texture.
Luckily you get only one of them.

Pork xiao long bao - a good version, not as
delicate as at DTF Singapore or Taipei, but
unlike most I've had, in that ballpark. You
get two of these.

Chicken soup - could have been the whole
meal - a whole drumstick chopped into bits
and simmered along with other assorted
chicken trimmings (also ladeled into the
bowl) to make a delicate and rather
delicious broth. I left some of the
chicken, gnawing off the skin and
gelatinous bits and rejecting the
flesh, out of which all the goodness
had been leached anyway.

For afters, mango pudding - a pretty
hard but tasty interpretation, topped
with a fan of ripe fruit slices and
(boo) a splash of milk.

I got out for US$15 including tax,
service, and 33c for tap water.

A note on the Mid-Valley complex - it
consists of two malls connected by an
underground mostly food court as described,
which boasts American names such as Tony
Roma's and KFC, former American names such
as Kenny Rogers Roasters, would-be American
names such as Texas Chicken, Manhattan Fish
Market, and NY Steak Shack, international big
shots like Sushi Tei and the aforementioned
DTF, and local luminaries such as Village
Duck. The food mostly smells pretty good.
Next time maybe I'll forgo the hotel chain
loyalty thing and stay at one of the hotels
on premises. I could have eaten here all week.

Last breakfast. I didn't feel like it but
decided to give it a shot anyway and was glad
I did. At the Malay station they had lamb
curry (not rendang - this was in a lightish
brown sauce with turmeric and chiles) was
very nice but boneless and fatless, sad to
say; it was also not hot enough, something
one could remedy using the minced hot
peppers or the fish-based sambals that
were available.

The Indian things were

pulisadham, a lentil and rice concoction
flavored with tamarind and cumin, pretty plain
but good;

vadai, lentil flour fritters, which strangely
dissolved in the mouth to yield an okra-like
texture and even flavor;

potatoes varuval, a curry tinged red with
pepper powder and possibly a bit of tomato,
pretty good, especially as I had shamelessly
mined the dish for lots of extra onion;

the chicken and fish curries were there as
they were every day - I'm guessing they
don't rotate in different dishes until these
are gone. The chicken had gotten even spicier,
and the fish didn't smell as bad, so I took a
small piece - it was actually pretty decent.

I finally decided to check out the western
foods table. Everything looked pretty average
and boring except for two things, which I
tasted. Mac and cheese, in big blocks - I
took a slice off one and discovered it to
be bland, starchy, not very cheesy or
anythingy. Confetti corn which in addition
to the usual tiny dice of green and red
pepper had a bit of hot pepper added, which
made the combination quite nice. I had a big
mound of this and ate every kernel. Oh, yeah,
it was cut fresh off the cob, not previously
frozen.

Chinese
For my departure there was radish cake, this
time coated in dried onions and chile flakes
- delicious to the taste but had suffered
from perhaps several reheatings, so the
texture was kind of grainy and odd.

I tried a vegetable spring roll, which was
meh, also having suffered from overaging.

Three of those custard buns today.

Juices included pink guava as well as green
guava - they taste the same, but I hit the
jackpot with mango juice replacing the apple.

Feeling the need for a modest kick in the
pants, I had a mug of teh tarik. How do you
tarik (pull) tea from a samovar? I held my
mug as far from the spout as possible to
help the milk proteins foam up; semi-success.

Departure day: I stuck around way too long,
not having any energy to brave the
thunderstorms, which I could hear starting
about 10 (they weren't supposed to start
until 12:30). And I didn't have the stomach
space to hit another dim sum place, having
eaten copiously and relatively well at the
hotel, so my original plan of taking the
free shuttle bus to Paragon gave way to
a lethargic nothing. They let me hang out
in the lounge as long as I wanted, a nice
gesture that cost them pretty much nothing.

Off to the airport. I had tons of time and
just sort of moseyed to Sentral and instead
of taking Ekspres did the bus again. It was
the same bus, of which I recall having made
the same ominous noises as on the way out.
No traffic, and it got us there in 45 min.

Again, formalities took mere moments.

Last time, my friends and I decided that
the regional Golden Lounge is nicer than
the fancy big one, so that was my choice
today. It was pretty busy when I arrived,
but by the time it was time to go, it had
cleared out considerably.

Cotes de Blaignan is the house red pour,
and it's pretty respectable, certainly
better than tomorrow's business class wine.

Things I tasted.

Rasam was spicy and delicious - a creamy
tomato lentil soup served with those
frito-shaped pappadums;

mackerel cake that was oily and fishy
but not bad;

some kind of mystery meat pastry;

curry puff with way too much anise in it;

and an odd vinegary hummus.

Things I didn't taste.

Spaghetti with tomato sauce, some rather
fishy fish in white sauce, curried bony
bits of chicken, and biryani rice; a
salad bar, breads, and a cheese board.

I spent much of my time at the work
tables overlooking the bank of 738s at
the B gates, because that was where the
outlets are. Eventually I wised up and
sat me down in a more comfy chair and
snoozed for two hours, then, as I was
ready to eat, tried the chicken curry,
really all a bunch of odd trimmings,
fine with me, as there was a lot of skin,
in a mildly spicy rather delicious sauce.
The rice was terrible with a strange bitter
taste. I ended with a dessert plate of
pistachio nuts and a couple dates that
had been put there so people could break
their Ramadan fast. There were also other
fruits and some Western desserts available.

MH 609 KUL SIN 2305 0005 738 2A

This flight was full of mainland tourists
who though rowdy were mostly not much of a
problem (despite the cutting in line issue,
which is not unique to the mainland), but
one particularly screechy lady who was not
afraid to pound on things and her fellow
travelers I feared might cause a delay,
but eventually she was calmed down by her
compatriots. The front cabin was again
half full; the back was pretty packed.

Attentive service from both male and
female attendants.

For the snack, shepherd's pie or dim sum.
I maybe should have chosen the former just
to see what it would be like. I chickened
out and went with the dim sum, which were
three deep-fried shumai (made with mystery
meat instead of pork and mystery fish that
might have been shrimp) and a yellow bean
bao. On the side those strangely crunchy
peanuts in a packet and a Lindt ball.
With this I had the steward keep the guava
juice coming.

We landed five minutes or so early, just
before 12.

Thank goodness the Silver Kris lounge is
open all night. The buffet goes down at
0100, but the cook comes around to give
everyone last call, a most civilized touch.
I actually declined the kind offer to check
it out.

Planning to snooze a bit, I scoped out the
sleep aid situation. Offerings included
Ch. Loudenne, Charles Heidsieck brut reserve,
Courvoisier XO, Jack Daniel's, and Dalmore 15,
not a bad lineup at all, especially for
Cognac lovers.

I want to talk about David Beckham's Haig Club.
It's a "single grain" whisky, supposed to
bridge the gap between the brown liquor
drinkers and the white liquor drinkers. In
essence, I'd say much more white than brown.

An unpromising nose of cherry soda and
solvent (hence the white), and it really
went belly up on the palate - I looked in
vain for any of that black pepper and posh
spice that some reviewers find. Oak, water,
and death on the finish. One man's smooth is
another's watery; I am suspecting the
reviewer who found smoothness is being paid
off by Diageo.

So the Edinburgh Whisky Blog referred to
Becks in this way: "I like Beckham as much
as the next man - we all remember THAT goal
from the half way line, and the brilliant
interview with Ali G," so I looked up that
interview. Takeaways: 1. Sacha Baron Cohen
is in fact pretty funny; he's funnier than
Victoria Beckham is pretty; but I believe
that his unbelievable rudeness in character
probably betrays something about him out
of character - of course, he went to
Cambridge, which is sort of like going to
Yale. 2. Victoria Beckham is cute, but not
more alluring, I think, than several women
I managed to get dates with in my youth.
What is notable about her, though, is her
fiery brightness and what comes across as
a fierce loyalty to friends and family.
3. About David - from the comment about
brilliance I expected something like
Muhammad Ali's repeated reaming of Howard
Cosell or Sylvester Stallone's gentle
chidings of Oprah Winfrey. What I got was
a disarming smile and a few embarrassed
asides that if he were not so pretty might
have been interpreted as simplemindedness;
of course given it has a half billion quid
behind it it is seen as something else.

From which I went on to review Muhammad Ali's
career, which was really amusing, especially
the Dick Cavett and Michael Parkinson vs. Joe
Frazier and Ali interview, which lasted about
12 rounds and a split decision. Those 43
minutes helped the time along considerably,
and I eventually decided not to try to sleep
this night. United Business isn't that much
to be awake for anyway.

Around 5 an investigation of the showers
found them fine, but I preferred the United
ones in Tokyo and even the Thai ones in
Hong Kong.

Around 6, breakfast called. It had been put
out about an hour before, but I resisted the
clarion until I remembered that there was
Chinese food.

A charsiu bao was average, but given it was
in the airport, and given it was free, I'd
give it a B+.

Fried radish (also known as turnip, also
known as carrot) cake was gummy and
tasteless, and no way does it get a pass.

Chee kueh (steamed rice flour cake) with
chye poh (preserved radish) was also kind
of average, the cake fine though a little
hard and the radish I thought a bit too
sweet. B given the situation.

Shaped noodles with Szechwan chili oil was
nicely al dente but in no way spicy enough.
Luckily there were dishes of minced big and
little Thai chiles nearby. I used the latter,
and the resulting piquancy made for an A-;
the thing that could have elevated this dish
would have been a sizzle in pig fat. There
are departures to Indonesia and such places
from this terminal, so that's not going to
happen.

Har gow were nasty - a filling of shrimp
ground to a paste with some godawful starch
binder. F. F! F!!!

Luckily there were a lot of shrimp in the
shrimp laksa noodles, presented sensibly
as separate components. The shrimp were
quite nicely boiled; the laksa gravy was
pretty nice. My use for the shrimp was to
eat them in bites with the har gow and
pretend they were a unitary dish.

Off to the gate.

The hotel-printed boarding pass that I'd
used to get through security had a little
notation in fine print that said that it
had to be exchanged for another boarding
pass - something I didn't tumble to until
fairly late in the game. I duly presented
myself at the transfer desk by the United
gate, where a not impolite Singapore agent
told me that in fact United, not being so
chummy with SQ as it might once have been,
had been relegated to the other transfer
desk a half mile down the corridor. So off
I trundled, my heart beating rather fast and
shallow as I came up to the desk. Panting a
bit, I gasped my request to the bored young
man, who told me that I had to go to the
security desk, a folding music stand ten
feet away that had been folded up in
anticipation of an early escape for the
staff. The music stand had to be reunfolded,
painstakingly, and then the security girl
also painstakingly and either reluctantly
or semi-illiterately tried to find my name on
the list. This took a while, but eventually I
was allowed to reapproach the desk and get
my new boarding pass, which said the same
things as my old one had. At this point, my
ankle (cardiacly swollen) was really killing
me, so I asked the fellow to call an electric
cart for me, which he did; I think he did,
anyhow, but as I didn't understand the Canto-
language he was speaking, he could just as
well have been calling his girlfriend. Anyhow,
he reported that no electric carts were to be
had at such short notice, and I should just
walk slowly, as there was plenty of time to
make the flight, as it was delayed.

So I did, pausing to wince every hundred yards
or so. During my journey, an electric cart
with empty seats whizzed by every three minutes
or so. I cursed.

UA 2 SIN SFO 0845 0915 789 3D

When I arrived, there was still a security line,
so the young man had not lied to me about that
at least, and after that, we had still a bit of
a wait: we ended up leaving half an hour late
and landed either 5 late or 45 early, depending
whether you believe the company's filed plan or
the public schedule. Turns out we were lucky -
according to flightaware.com, the flight averaged
an hour late taking off, with two cancellations
in the recent week.

The seat-bed was hard and narrow but reasonably
comfy, with enough space to store a bag in the
footwell.

The flight attendants were fine, though, strangely,
they pressed me to overeat and overdrink.

TO BEGIN
Chilled appetizer - chicken roulade with spicy garlic
sauce and South Asian pickles

Fresh seasonal greens - zucchini, sun-dried tomatoes,
Kalamata olives, fennel and sunflower seeds with your
choice of Caesar or Asian-style dressing

The chicken was a boneless drumstick, the sauce
Sriracha, and the pickles gari and something else
uninteresting, I forget.

Reasonably unwilted greens, okay extras (I put the
zucchini aside), a very sweet dressing that tasted
of garlic and a little ginger and soy but mostly
of some kind of sugar.

MAIN COURSE
Braised beef cheek - braised sauce, polenta, grilled
red capsicum and zucchini

Bacon and sage stuffed chicken breast - bacon-sage
jus, roasted potatoes and braised cabbage

Sauteed prawns - pumpkin and salted egg cream sauce
and egg noodles with shredded vegetables

Vegetarian kofta - onion and tomato masala, okra
poriyal and dill and sultana pulao

Executive dining - if you prefer more time to work
or relax, ask a flight attendant about our executive
dining service. At your request, we will present your
main meal followed by dessert based on your schedule.

I told the young Asian guy that I sort of preferred
the meat but would accept the prawns as a second
choice; he put his hand on my shoulder (he did this
several times during the flight, and I don't know if
it was cute or creepy) and gazed into my eyes and
intoned, sir, you WILL GET your first choice. After
eating I wondered if I'd made the right choice. When
it was piping hot, the beef cheek had an acceptable
texture, but as it cooled, the gelatins solidified
a bit, so the last bites were almost as firm as the
cold five-spice beef shin you get on appetizer plates.
The demi-glace-ish sauce was okay, very gooey, as
you'd expect, and not too salty. I didn't have the
guts to try the polenta or the vegetables.

TO FINISH
International cheese selection - grapes and crackers
served with Port

A Brie-ish white-rinded thing, a bluish blue, and
Cabot clothbound Cheddar - I had a thin slice of the
last, which was pretty decently sharp and tasty.

Dessert - ice cream with your choice of toppings

I said no, thank you very much, but the FA asked
flirtatiously if I was sure, so I acceded to a scoop
of rather ordinary vanilla with another glass of that
Port, thank you very much. And then went to sleep
for maybe five hours.

MID-FLIGHT SNACK
Singapore-style soup - noodles, shredded chicken and
mixed vegetables in spiced broth

The broth was okay, but the noodles were both hard
and gummy at the same time - how do you do that?,
and the chicken could just as well have been
excelsior. A baby bok choy and a rather nice doong
goo mushroom completed the ensemble.

Fruit and light snacks are available at any time
following the meal service. Please help yourself or
ask a flight attendant for today's selection.

PRIOR TO ARRIVAL
Cheddar and three-pepper frittata - tomato and white
bean stew, bacon and sauteed spinach

Congee - traditional Chinese-style porridge with
minced chicken

Cereal and banana - served with milk

Fresh fruit appetizer, yogurt or savory congee
garnish and breakfast breads.

The flight attendant who took my order had said
"congee, right?" so even had I wanted eggs (which
I might have, for the white beans and bacon), it
might have been difficult to overcome that (though
friendly) stereotype. I was fine with the congee,
which was as before pretty tasty, the chicken
substituting for ground pork, the garnishes being
little you tiao slices, scallions, and shreds of
ginger. Okay I guess.

We landed I guess you'd say early.

Immigration took moments, and PreCheck security ten
or twelve minutes, and I was soon on my way to the
club to check up on what had happened in the last
15 hours. Nothing had, thank goodness.

UA 309 SFO IAD 1053 1905 320 7A

I trundled to the gate just a hair early and checked
to find I was 4 on the waitlist. Eh, the bulkhead is
okay, and this aircraft had a cutout to put my bag into.

The flight was fine, with my proximate seatmate having
bought the Economy Plus seat and grateful for the extra
room and thus being pretty jolly. I used my 1K privilege
and got a Courvoisier and was spontaneously offered a
snack box (I declined); after a bit of small talk with
my seatmate I fell asleep for the remainder of the
flight, waking up a minute or maybe less before landing,
which was actually early, so we were lucky again.
Flightaware says that this flight averages half an hour
late, with the previous day's having been diverted to
Harrisburg.

The bus to Wiehle was adequately fast, and the Silver
Line was nowhere as bad as I had been led to believe,
so I got the second to last bus home so got to change
out clothes and pick up some wine and in bed by midnight.

2V 84 WAS NYP 1110 1430

I no longer need to ride in business class, as I get
to preboard as an elderly person, and business class
offers offsetting advantages and disadvantages vis-a-vis
the quiet car. So the quiet car it was, for a quite
pleasant trip. On-time arrival, and the five-block
walk to the hotel was quick, and I was pretty hungry,
having sacrificed dinner for earlier arrival at the
house. On the corner of 39th and 8th, I smelled good
smells emanating from NYC Fried Chicken, so I ordered
a couple thighs. These came in a few minutes, piping
hot, fried very hard in a salty coating with a touch
of garlic. The chicken had not been brined, so the
saltiness was not objectionable. Of the two pieces,
one was large and juicy and tender, and the other
reasonably tasty but with none of those other
characteristics.

A tripadvisor review that gives you the idea:
NYC Fried Chicken reminds me of Crown Fried Chicken
(my absolute favorite), but 10x more ghetto.

My friend Dave has some cautionary things to say about
Crown. If it were even 2x more ghetto than that, I
would not have survived to write this trip report.

Another long block to the Hampton Inn Manhattan
Times Square South, where a very friendly (in New
York!) desk clerk issued me keys for a nice little
room on the second to top floor, with a view, as
I believe all the rooms have, of another high-rise
building; whatever. One doesn't generally choose
one's midtown hotel for the views.

Dinner at Szechuan Gourmet, a Bib Gourmand place
that competes with Lan Sheng across the street,
which used to have a star but lost it and much
of its credibility in a quick two-year dive
starting not so long ago. It's a sizable menu,
and half the things are things I want to eat; as
I was alone, I just had the famous crispy lamb
fillets with chili and cumin - very tasty but
deep-fried and not all that spicy. I had to eat
all the 20 or so chiles (you're supposed to leave
them) to get the appropriate zing. I was burping
cumin and garlic and picking out chile and cumin
seeds from between my teeth for half a day after.
Luckily there was no nether effect from the hot
peppers. Service was okay bordering on brusque.

Back to the hotel for a very good night's sleep
and a not-so-good hotel breakfast, of which I
had a banana and some orange juice and then
decided to take fuller advantage and made me a
waffle, which was actually okay.

Kee's is, according to the New York Times, 12/3/06,
"Hands down, the best chocolates in New York. Maybe
the world." The factory, such as it is, is in a
single-wide storefront a few doors down from the
hotel, so I decided to check it out. Kee was there
bright and early, making her fresh daily truffles
out of couverture and an assortment of unbelievably
delicate and subtle fillings. She took some time
off to chat; we had a discussion about how she
chose the profession, what her favorite foods
were, how long her products would keep (2 to 5
days). I'd heard about the famous creme brulee
truffle, but they were making them later; she
said that they'd hurry up if I liked, and they'd
be ready by 11. I said I'd be back at 3, so she
said she'd save me one to taste. Meanwhile, samples.

Black Rose - rose-infused black tea with a dark
ganache, extremely fugitive, the rose just a
whisper, the way flowery flavors ought to be;

lemon basil in white ganache, a bit more intense,
with pronounced pesto-like flavors; and

fennel, again mild and suave, the dark filling
just tinged with a touch of fennel pollen, a
garnish of extra pollen dusted on top giving
most of the anisey flavor.

I bought a few bars ($9 for 3 oz, pretty pricy,
shelf life estimated at a month, but I like aged
chocolate, and Kee doesn't) to give out later.
Said goodbye and promised to be back.

When I returned in the later afternoon I did get
to taste the creme brulee truffle - it was a tour
de force, sort of like those xiao long bao, but
no cheating involved getting the jiggly custard
into the candy. The con side was that there was
no real brulee and so no brulee flavor. I also
picked up small boxes for my friends who were
going to put up with me for the next few days.

Had a coffee (they) and a beer (myself) with my
friends Jim and Silvia in from Rome. We couldn't
find any other way to get together - we're always
passing like ships in the night, and usually we
have drinks or a snack in an airport as they're
going one direction and I another; this time it
was the train station on their way to Boston. I
left them with a couple Kee's bars to share with
Nicholas when they saw him later in the week.

Lunch at Kung Fu Little Steamed Buns Ramen, said
to have the best xiao long bao in the city. In
addition to the mandatory soup dumplings, I had
hot dog la mian, also known as sausage fried
noodles, just to say I had had them. The little
steamed buns were actually twice the size of
normal ones, so a basket of them would by itself
had made an adequate meal. They were good but
not special, the size dictating that the skins
had to be thicker than I'd like. The fillings
were pretty decent but I thought underseasoned.
Lot of soup, though. Hot dog ramen was without
redeeming social value, a regrettable choice.
Though the hot dog pieces (two dogs quartered
lengthwise, the quarters cut across into thirds)
were spiced with lop cheong spices, that was not
enough to obscure the fact that they were hot
dogs. I should have nixed the experimentation
and gone with roast duck or squid or something
harmless like that. This place also gets the
bib gourmand rating; it probably deserves it.

the invoice said Kung Fu Steamed Buns Ramen. Oh.
Perhaps their hands got tired of making cute
little steamed buns and so they went to the
giants.

Back to Kee, where I got some truffles for
Janice and dhammer53, whom I was going to see
next day, and Erik and Carol in Pelham.

Washup (it was hot and humid) and then I had
to decide whether to make the free Friday at
MOMA or take a nap. Being an old guy now, I
did the latter, waking up just in time to
hustle the mile and change uptown to La Bonne
Soupe for Soup Do. Catman looked happy and
healthy, and attendance was good, the list
officially being -

Catman (le Host)
Kathywrdf (Soup do legend,, keeping her purrfect
attendance)
Violist (Legendary Repeat Souper!)
CMK10 (Repeat Souper & future Lawyer) & plus 1, a Cat Mom
dinocool & plus two (Repeat Soupers)
PhobyPhoto (third timer and Alley Cat)
Sean Luse (repeat Souper and Alley Cat)
The way of the Future (repeat Souper)
Austin 787 (first timer)
Krazy Kanuck (first timer from Houston)
Serfty (representing the great nation of Australia)
Jswong (representing the great nation of New Zealand)
Suvayanr (first timer and Alley Cat)
raquelle (First Timer)
msywings (First Timer)
Hudsonlaluna (First timer)
Cinister7 (Another First timer)

Having been in non-hamburger places for a long time, I
ordered one (on the menu: "steak hache'") rare, no bun,
no cheese, no sauce, no anything, just meat. It took the
waitress some time to comprehend this order: she seemed
a little apprehensive when she served it and was visibly
relieved when I told her it was perfect, which it was.
Excellent meat, good fries, sided with a kind of
ordinary salad.

Quien Bordeaux 12 was about as ordinaire as you can get.
After I'd suckered three of the closest tablemates into
finishing the bottle with me, I changed to Hofbrau beer,
more satisfactory.

No dessert and no afterparty for me; just hung around
chatting with people for a bit and then walked downtown
with jswong and Austin787.

BRT
 

Time to get up early for the Brooklyn Reality Tour.
I'd had an offer to meet boxo and her dad at the
Dominique Ansel bakery (home of the original cronut)
but had needed that hour's extra sleep so didn't go.
Poured myself out of bed, grabbed a banana from the
breakfast room, and hopped the M42 to 3rd Avenue and
hoofed the rest of the way to the rendezvous on 46th.

Mr. Abraham had given us a big 40-seater bus this year,
despite our being only half that number, so we spread
out luxuriously, some of the time, coalescing to
socialize or discuss our interests periodically. There
were sufficient stops that it was easy to move around a
fair amount.

Once on board, each of us was issued half a blueberry
elderflower with lime sugar cronut; this was plenty,
given the number of Calories we were going to be
confronted with through the day, but the halving of
the pastries and the subsequent crumb shedding and
the oozing of filling was slightly awkward. Cronuts,
by the way, are perfectly fine things, but they are
not the revolutionary innovation that the media and
the maker have tried to lead us to believe - they're
a very nice and kind of cute confection, is all.
There have been layered pastries and toroid pastries
in the past, just not a layered toroid pastry that
has been documented. If I cut out a mille-feuille in
the shape of a star or a teenage mutant ninja turtle,
that would be equally creative, I think. Props to
boxo, though, she and her dad did a great job standing
in line to get the allotted half dozen each.

We started this year with a bit of a tour of downtown,
passing the Flatiron Building and the BBQ Block Party,
which I sort of pined for (not enough to go the next
day, though), the Bowery, Little Italy, and Chinatown.
In years past we'd ended the tour down here, but as
the focus has changed, no longer, and it was just as
well we started here instead.

We changed boroughs via the Brooklyn Bridge, about
which not much was made but for the fact we were going
right past Peter Luger's; should have stopped. Frequent
flyerdom does march on its stomach, after all.

All forgiven - we made an early and lengthy stop at
Smorgasburg, where, surprisingly enough, I didn't eat
a whole lot and had only two beers. One issue was that
some of the places I was interested in weren't open.

The porchetta guy wasn't ready yet, so I made a beeline
for Duck Season to get an order of crunchies, but the
demo duck breast looked so rare and good that I had to
order one ($15 for a half breast! too much). When it came,
of course, it was medium [frowny face]. Sadder still was
I encountered Henry, boxo's dad, who had gotten the same
thing, and it was too much meat for him, and we should
have just split one and an order of crunchies.

I also got Alchemy Creamery's vegan vanilla-flavored ice
pop, made I think from almond mylk; it tasted like wet
cardboard.

Things I tasted from other people:

kofta kebab I think from Rock the Kasbah, standard but
salty; whose it was I don't recall, probably Henry;

ramen burger from Ramen Burger, bought by Henry; it was
what you'd expect, and not too exciting, crunchy noodle
"bun" and medium-well overkneaded but strangely still
juicy meat, normal fixings; and

duck fat fries also from Duck Season, courtesy of serfty,
pretty good but dead salty, better with the duck gravy
dipper that came with.

Smorgasbeer is an American-style pale ale, pretty hoppy
but refreshing. I kind of liked it, but for seconds I had
the Naked Flock hard cider, pretty dry, pretty standard
but more quenching, which was necessary given the hot sun
and the massive sodium hit.

Next stop, which has become traditional, the view from
beneath the Verrazzano Narrows Bridge. A good refreshing
breeze and a photo op, especially of outdoorsy types out
on the water doing marginally hazardous things.

The usual round of neighborhoods, the oldest house in the
borough, the house where dhammer53 grew up, the old
Presbyterian church (I think; can't keep those sects
straight), and in-jokey places such as Teena's Cake Fair,
where we used to annually panic the grumpy proprietress
(she retired a couple years ago, and it's now closed),
the famous right turn where the bus got stuck one year
at an underpass, and the White Castle where lisa mcgu
insisted that the tour stop so she could get a burger
(and I don't think she was even pregnant yet), thus
smelling up the whole bus for the remainder of the trip.

Coney Island/Brighton Beach/Manhattan Beach - we always
take a wander through these three very differently
interesting neighborhoods, and at the Coney Island stop
I always make a beeline for Nathan's, where normal people
get a hot dog, but my heart beats for half a dozen oysters
or cherrystones at approximately 10c a Calorie. This year
I was tempted by the softshell crab sandwich, at about 2c
a Calorie, but tradition overrode that urge, especially
after I saw one go by, rather too thickly battered and
somewhat greasy-looking. The cherrystones (called topnecks
here) were fresh and briny and hit the spot.

Then a wander through the other mentioned beaches to look
at the bustling little Mockba or whatever of Brighton Beach
and the architecture of the fancy Manhattan Beach houses.

Butter & Scotch off in the up-and-coming neighborhood of
Crown Heights is a combo bakery and bar; dhammer53 had
picked it sight unseen based on Internet writeups. Turns
out to be very different from what one imagined - it's
actually a very ordinary bar with maybe 35 places, most
of which we of course took up, to the shock and chagrin
of the regular customers who trickled in expecting a
nice quiet relaxing drink or two. There actually is a
bakery, but it's next door, and one can order key lime
pie or chocolate layer cake or whatever, and one of the
bartenders trots over and picks up a slice for you. The
other focus is on fancy cocktalis and, of all things,
milkshakes. There not being enough pills in Christendom
to neutralize a milkshake for me, I got one of the fancy
cocktails, called Dear Diary, which featured flavors of
Earl Grey, pear, elderflower, and orange. Sadly, it
reminded me of Constant Comment only not as good: I
detected mostly orange with a touch of tea; it was not
a bad drink per se, but I didn't catch the subtleties,
even though it was kind of weak. Should have had a beer.
People reported that the milkshakes and the baked goods
were to die for, and dhammer53 is considering making it
a regular stop on the tour. Having learned my lesson,
I'll have a Brooklyn Pale Ale next time.

Not that there was any need for more food, but eventually
we found ourselves at the L&B Spumoni Gardens, where we
supped on Sicilian squares courtesy of gpapadop, thanks so
much for your good-natured carbohydrate generosity. After
one piece I felt the need for beer. There was a rumor of
Coronas and Heinekens at $3 a can, so I took orders at
my table and stood in line for a huge long time before
being served. By the time I got the beers, the table had
been refilled with other people (dhammer53's relatives,
as it turned out), and there was no pizza left! Not a
great big thing, but I was not about to get back in line
for more pizza.

Next and as I recall final food stop, Cuccio's bakery,
where, having had only the one slice, I felt the need for
more carbohydrates so had a Napoleon and what I believe
was once vulgarly referred as a tete de negre, only this
version was more a tetine, a vaguely boob-shaped mound of
marshmallowy creme filling on a round of white cake, all
coated with couverture.

Final sightseeing stop was sunset at the Brooklyn Heights
Promenade, a lovely thing to behold, after which we said
our goodbyes and split up, some to do romantic things
in town, some to the subway, and the dogged few back to
46th St. on the bus, home, and sweet dreams.

You're a better man than I am, don't think I would survive that long a flight in UA coach.

and the Wine Do dinner
I had lunch and a walk up at Wave Hill with my friend
Dave (another violist) and his sweetie Joelle. This
estate was a summer home for the likes of Mark Twain,
Arturo Toscanini, and the Theo Roosevelt clan and, as
one can guess, is ideally situated overlooking the
Hudson. It's now an arboretum open to the public, but
given its location within the Bronx is relatively
unknown and uncrowded. The cafe offered weird things,
salads and such, chicken pot pie, and what was
represented as chicken and quinoa but turned out to
be rigatoni in tomato sauce with ground mystery meat,
not too good and $12 for a modest serving. Captain
Lawrence saved the day with his Freshchester pale ale,
a truly local product, brewed 14 miles up the road: a
smooth, malty, slightly sweet, moderately hoppy APA.

Dave and Joelle dropped me off at the D train, which
got me to West 4th in an hour, so I was at North
Square in the Washington Square Hotel in plenty of
time for the beginning of the 9th annual Wine Do.

roster:
hammer53
Anna Cordelli + 1
Austin787
Xyzzy + 1
wrp96
HPN-HRL2010
violist
krazykanuck
Calcifer + 1
serfty
EastBay1K
thewayofthefuture +1
Pinky
Monitor + 1
Bob W
KathyWdrf
GrjApp 2010
jswong 2012
Itsaboutthejourney

The menu:

[Relish tray of pickled onions and garlic, cornichons,
and various olives. Not sure what place all this acid
has in a wine dinner, but whatever; they were all
crisp and of good flavor. There was bread, of which I
didn't take any notice. Not on the printed menu]

APPETIZERS
Lobster & crab cakes, seaweed & vegetable salsa, Thai
curry coconut sauce

Goat cheese ravioli, zucchini, sundried tomatoes,
manchego, pine nuts, herb gremolata

Crab & corn salad, blackened corn, crab meat, fennel,
tomatoes, romaine, basil, mint, parsley, lemon yogurt
dressing

Tuna tartare, ginger cured vegetables, avocado
lemon/lime vinaigrette

dhammer53 made a pitch for the salad, which I was going
to get anyway. Aside from their trying to pawn off the
lobster and crab cakes (which I've had before and was
not all that enthusiastic about, as the sauce can't be
paired with any wine alive, plus crab cakes in New
York are, pardon, a contradiction) on me. So I was
served dead last, who eat slowly. The stuff was pretty
good, the crab being mild and showing better this way
than in a breaded cake. I am still doubtful about the
leaves chopped (the romaine) and chiffonaded (the
herbs) into the mix, but the corn sweetened the crab
nicely. By the time I was served, though, the pouring
of the reds had already started, so I was up a creek
anyway in the pairing department.

ENTREES
Herb crusted rack of lamb, Brussels sprouts with
bacon, potato & leek galette, rosemary au jus

Spice rubbed duck breast, fresh egg noodles, pea
greens, carrots, tomatoes, basil, chipotle peanut
sauce, kumquat relish

Herb roasted free range chicken breast, wild mushrooms,
cauliflower mash, thyme au jus

Filet mignon au poivre, grilled Vidalia onion, steak
cut fries, spicy mustard, Bourbon au jus

I was torn, as the most wine-friendly dish was the
one I would enjoy least. I mean, who puts chipotle
peanut sauce or spicy mustard on a wine dinner. So
I went with the lamb, despite the rosemary "au jus"
and was quite pleased - I asked for it jiggly rare,
and it came barely seared on the outside and nice
and jiggly in the middle. The sprouts were al dente,
as was the (way too trimmed) bacon; the potato thing
was also kind of rare, not a problem, because I
didn't eat much of it, and the jus was negligible.

DESSERTS
Key lime pie, creme Chantilly, raspberry Chambord coulis

Chocolate mousse cake, bitter chocolate ice cream,
chocolate & caramel sauces, chopped Heath bar

Blueberry pie, cream cheese crust, vanilla ice cream,
creme Anglaise, blueberry Port sauce

Chocolate all the way. Quite good, but too sweet even
though they forgot the Heath bar garnish. I should
perhaps have asked for just ice cream, which was bitter
and more bitter and very nice.
==
At least I took cursory notes this year.

SPARKLING WINES

White

2011 Lanson Champagne Brut Black Label (Champagne)

Clean and pleasant, biscuity yeasty but with some fruit
left. As this (not this vintage, duh) used to be one of
my standbys two decades or more ago, I was at home with
it and happy that there was still an ounce left when my
tardy crab salad came, because it was a good match.

2007 Perrier-Jouët Champagne Belle Epoque (Champagne)

Subtle, minerally, lemon giving way to a touch of sweet.
Piquant, almost bitter on the finish, which I attribute
to the age of the wine. To tell the truth, I am a bit
uncomfortable with Champagnes in this price range. I
guess my experience is limited; but also I get
distracted by bubbles.

2010 Roses de Jeanne / Cédric Bouchard Champagne
Blanc de Noirs Les Ursules (Champagne)

Strawberries, also a touch of sweetness; I'm not
sure why rose Champagne is fashionable - it doesn't
really do it for me. I know some of us treated this
as though it were liquid gold; to me, it was not
more than a decent, well-balanced quaff.

STILL WINES

White

Alsace, Riesling
2013 Albert Boxler Riesling Reserve (Alsace)

A lot of honey on the nose. Citrus, honeysuckle;
it opens with a sweetish impression, with the
flowers, then the citrus comes and dries it out,
and there is a long tart finish, complicated by a
touch, just a little, of the hydrocarbon that you
expect in wines of this sort.

Oregon, Chardonnay
2012 Evening Land Vineyards Chardonnay Summum Seven
Springs Vineyard (Oregon, Willamette Valley, Eola -
Amity Hills)

An odd, woody nose followed by sour cream and lemon,
On the palate a mix of oak and lemon rind with some
tropical fruit peeking through. A pineapply, almost
pina colada finish. Suave, eminently drinkable.
===
Red

California, Cabernet Sauvignon
2000 Anderson's Conn Valley Vineyards Cabernet Sauvignon
Estate Reserve (California, Napa Valley) - 1.5L
A classic and middle of the road new world Cab, though
an extraordinarily well put together one. A lot of
Bordeauxy charateristics but not like a Bordeaux, with
black fruits and tobacco and leather, but slightly greeny
in an American way. Very pleasant in a nonchallenging way.

1969 Inglenook Cabernet Sauvignon Cask G-21 (California,
Napa Valley)
Heavy smoke, raisiny nose, devolving toward stewed
prunes and some kind of unidentified wood. Hadn't
gotten to the stage of woodland forest, rotten wood,
mushrooms that some old wines do - I remember a Petrus
of about this vintage that had totally collapsed into
that state, sadly enough. Bunches of tannin and bunches
of Cabernet helped with the longevity, but not enough.

2009 Maybach Family Vineyards Cabernet Sauvignon Materium
(California, Napa Valley, Oakville)
Pleasantly spicy, rich, dash of sweetness; very fruity in
a noncabernetty way. Just entering its peak.

2009 Myriad Cellars Cabernet Sauvignon Three Twins Vineyard
(California, Napa Valley)
Blackberry and oak, perfect balance. I loved this one.

Oregon, Red Bordeaux Blend
2013 Seven of Hearts Chateau Figareaux Tradition (Oregon,
Columbia Valley)
[I didn't get any of this]

Washington, Cabernet Sauvignon
2010 Leonetti Cellar Cabernet Sauvignon Walla Walla Valley
(Washington, Columbia Valley, Walla Walla Valley)
Good acid, green pepper, pleasant, rather understated;
substantial tannin, good backbone; liked.

2012 Woodward Canyon Cabernet Sauvignon Artist Series
(Washington)
An odd green peanutlike aroma; sorry to say I didn't care
for this and wouldn't pay extra for it over any other
Woodward Canyon product (I used to like them years ago,
now, not so much).

Washington, Red Blend
2006 J. Bookwalter Protagonist (Washington, Columbia Valley)
This was by contrast complex and savory, the perfect age,
lots of dark fruits and tobacco; seemed to be Merlot heavy,
not that that's a bad thing.

2009 Columbia Winery Peninsula Red Willow Vineyard (Washington,
Columbia Valley, Yakima Valley)
Herbaceousness - that's the only note I made. I used to like
the Cabs and maybe a Syrah from this neighborhood. This was
a little muddled and not my thing.

Washington, Red Bordeaux Blend
2007 Col Solare (Washington, Columbia Valley)
Washington, Red Rhone Blend
Much coffee, touch of acid, beautiful, but rather
astringent despite its age. Cried out for fatty
poultry or maybe a mess of not too smoky burnt ends.

2013 Seven of Hearts GSM + C Blend (USA, Washington, Columbia
Valley)
Cheerwine, great if you like Grenache, a little light
for this Bordeaux-style company, lively acid, nice to drink.

There was a Fidelitas that I can't find notes for except
this scrawl: "green pepper spice stems" - unfortunately
no image comes to mind. I figure it must have been the
Cab from Horse Heaven.

FORTIFIED WINES

Portugal,Douro
2005 Niepoort Porto Colheita (Douro, Porto)

Afterward a bunch of us repaired to bdnyc's apartment in
Hell's Kitchen for a glass of the perfectly fine Jordan
Cabernet. He had been unable to join us for dinner -
working as a network TV producer as he does, he had the
sad task of coordinating coverage of one of the saddest
events of the year.

I overnighted at dhammer53 and Janice's lovely home
and then took Dan to breakfast at his favorite haunt,
a downtown diner called I think the Star. He knows
workers and customers alike and is in turn known by
them. I had to choke down vast quantities of carbs
to be part of this scene; followed by some still
somewhat yummy Kee's chocolates at home.

==

My friends Erik and Carol are right down the Hutch
in Pelham, and it was good to arrange things so I
could visit them; they have been great friends to
the family, and I'm fond of them and their now I
believe graduated from college kid. I spent a couple
relaxed days with them and their cats (not quite so
numerous as in the past) before heading back southward.

The notable event of this visit was that Carol decided
we needed to do something to move body and mind, so we
went off to watch The Man Who Knew Infinity, perhaps
the only movie I've paid to see since Die Hard 2 in
Austin a few years ago. This film tells the rather
poignant story of the mathematician Ramanujan and his
rise from an obcure bookkeeper in India to a world-
renowned scholar and colleague of the likes of G. H.
Hardy and Bertrand Russell. I actually sort of enjoyed
this.


--
Carol convinced me that instead of slogging on the bus
to the subway to the other subway to the train station,
I should spend the extra $30 or so and catch the Amtrak
at New Rochelle. Only problem - my train didn't stop at
New Rochelle, so I had to get the earlier one. Because
changing my discount economy ticket would have cost a
ton, I just bought a separate leg and alit at New York,
and waited for my original one 45 minutes later. This
worked.

2V 173 NRO NYP 1430 1520

They didn't check tickets, which means I didn't get my
points. Not such a big deal, because I discover to my
chagrin that there isn't a minimum points accrual any
more. We got to Penn Station on time, and I stood by for
half an hour watching the huge crowds milling around
figuring out which Amtrak train they were supposed to
be on.

2V 127 NYP WAS 1605 1930

This train was so full that someone sat with me
(usually I am a forbidding enough presence that
people don't if there are a number of empty seats
in the car). I slept through the trip.

Not the best of all experiences, but tolerable.

Last week I had a semi-longhaul Y experience on NH Dreamliner,
and it was better than acceptable. On the 787, Y on AA or UA
is not, shall we say, a rose garden.

Barbecue coda
AA1664 BOS PHL 1100 1233 321 4F

This aircraft has the tightest first-class section around,
and I was almost sorry to get upgraded out of my favorite
seat 23A; it is after all an hour flight, during which one
can easily go without free booze and snacks. That said,
flying is always fun, especially when I almost always get
good seats these days. We took off a quarter hour late but
landed on time. Pleasant flight. I hightailed it directly
to the club, where Evan Williams was on sale at a great
price (free), and Pete the bartender, now the supervisor,
poured me a double and on the second round had to be
dissuaded from doing that again.

You now can walk to the commuter terminal inside security,
but they've kept the buses going. I took the bus and arrived
right at boarding time.

AA4083 PHL BWI 1515 1558 CRJ 8A

Only to find half an hour delay, and the flight did not
make up any time, so we ended up about half an hour behind
- and this being the day when I was meeting my friends Dale
and Gail and thus, unlike usual, on a kind of schedule.

I hustled out of there as quick as I could, and it turns
out they were also delayed by bizarre traffic, so we
coordinated okay if tardily.

Dinner was at the Urban BBQ, at which experiences have been
mixed. My usual order of fatty brisket came for some reason
extra lean, but that was easily fixed. The food was decent,
not more. D&G were of the opinion that the entire experience
was not up to par, to which I attributed the cause as the
B team being on.

This was a quick visit; we chatted a bit, then I went to
take a nap, then back to the airport.

UA 332 BWI IAH 0530 0745 73G 2F

They served breakfast on this flight; the flight attendant
described it as a spicy omelet, which, surprisingly, it was.
Two eggs folded over cheese and quite a hit of hot pepper
and some Tex-Mex spices. It was worth the pills.

Croissants (horrid); the other choice was the famous
cinnamon bun, which has changed a lot since its heyday -
it's shrunk, less sweet, less buttery, perhaps dietitian
sanitized.

With the long layover, there's not much to do but have
more breakfast. I had a banana and fell asleep instead.

UA 859 IAH DFW 1015 1131 73G 2F

This flight is what, 200 miles, and I had barely enough
time to choke down a Courvoisier and we were landed.

lili was there to greet me, and we had a freshener up at
the Admiral's Club - a glass each of some nasty red blend,
a slightly less nasty Malbec, and a respectable Merlot for
which they were charging $12 or 14.

As last time we had been seriously burned by the toll roads
(being charged automatically even when we paid manually and
also, we suspect, being charged even when we were on the
free access road), we decided to do public trans all the
way, which turned out to be just fine.

To get to Fort Worth, you have to go on two separate buses,
changing within the airport, to the TRE train, which takes
you right in town, actually a quick though confusing process.
Our hotel was up north in the Stockyard district, another
20-minute bus ride. What the heck, beats subsidizing Texas.

We checked in to the Stockyards Hotel, a 19th-century-style
place whose authenticity I doubt (fake bullet holes in the
shutters, that sort of thing), pleasant enough. lili was
asked if she wanted a courtyard room or overlooking the
street, and surprisingly she chose the latter, saying that
she wanted to see what the nightlife was like but without
actually risking anything.

In the later afternoon, a commotion, why, because it was
time for the cattle drive! So we went off into the 95-degree
heat to see some bored-looking cowboys (probably Equity
members) halfheartedly coaxing some bored-looking cattle
(look at the long horns, daddy), and off they went, and off
we went. We toured the Stockyards district, which reminded
me of Disneyworld Frontierland, then back to the hotel.

The world-renowned H3 steakhouse is located next to the
hotel lobby. There's a sign outslde advertising spit-roasted
pig. What could be bad?

It was like 5, and we were pretty much the first for dinner.
The help were friendly and sightly. I got an Oktoberfest from
I think Rahr, and lili, being faced with the usual wine list
of red or white, chose Woodford on the rocks instead, a good
decision.

Bread was decent if industrial, salad likewise, the dressing
tangy and rather like Ken's Steakhouse Italian.

lili got the ribeye rare, and it was large, red, and tasty.

Having been seduced by the spit-roasted pig, I was left high
and dry, especially the dry part. The meat had certainly not
been cut that day, and I doubt its pig had been spit anythinged.

Vegetables were rice, pebbly and salty and nasty, and corn, less
nasty.

Luckily they noticed my lack of enthusiasm at the meal and took
it off the bill. Luckily also there was enough ribeye for two.

More alcohol helped a fair amount.

So a mixed experience.

Our next meal was next door to next door, at the famed
Cattlemen's, feted in print and on TV as the rip-roarinest
steakhouse ever.

Rahr Ugly Pug calls itself a Schwarzbier, and I guess it is
maybe kind of black, but it comes across pretty delicate
and friendly for that. I didn't mind it. Same wine list, but
this time lili went with the red ink from Texas.

A salad was almost identical to yesterday's. I opined that
as the kitchens backed up on each other, maybe the coolers
did too, or they shared suppliers, or something.

lili ordered the burger rare with fries; everything went
swimmingly with her order, and the burger was big enough
for two.

I asked for my strip steak extra rare, "as rare as they will
make it". It came shriveled and burnt, and the waiter said he
had thought I said extra well. Idiot. The replacement was raw,
just colored on both sides. It was fine, but the problem is
that the fat and gristle on the edge are close to inedible at
this level of non-doneness. It's almost worth it to order a
medium steak to optimize the flavor of that fat and gristle.
The replacement was good. I'd substituted spinach for a potato,
and the guy said that would be a buck upcharge, and I said fine:
it turned out to be $2 extra.

So a mixed experience.

We humped our bags to the bus stop and went back downtown for
the TRE train, which we took to Victory Station, whence it
was - or should have been - an easy stroll to the Meridien
Stoneleigh; turns out there's been a bit of a renaissance in
the area, and what apparently used to be a park that I was
counting on to cut across had been replaced by high-rise
construction, around which it was a hot tiresome walk.
Eventually we got there and checked in.

They gave us a so-called junior suite - a big room bisected
by the TV table into living room with couch and bedroom units.
It was okay, but the apparently decades-old yellow stains in
the bathroom floor and the slippery shower stall gave shall
we say an unwanted atmosphere to the place.

We noted that there was a discount for happy hour at the bar
so went there ... inquired about the appetizer prices and was
informed that the special did not apply on weekends (the
literature in the room said daily). Oh, well, one drink - a
beer of some local sort, not very interesting and in a tall
but deceptively shaped glass, so I figure 10 oz, for me, and
a glass of Malbec for her, which was charged up as a Chianti
at a buck or two more. When confronted, the bartender made
some excuse about Malbec and Chianti being next to each other
on the computer. Of course he'd never push Malbec when someone
ordered the more expensive Chianti, would he. We had been
thinking about dining on site (the restaurant gets good
notices), but this experience took away that urge.

lili had been to Sonny Bryan's twenty years ago and was
curious as to how it compared these days, so we went to West
End station on the 29 bus (the hotel turns out to have been
convenient to it), and it was a quick stroll from there.

It's a decidedly unfunky almost genteel spot in an old office
building and with a clean unsmoky smell about it - not that
promising, truth be told, but it was way too late to go
anyplace else, and, you know, what the heck.

They seated us in the back - I'd have thought perhaps to keep
an eye out lest we run out on the bill, but it was right near
the back door, so I don't know what that was all about. Maybe
they thought we needed a quiet romantic place to chow down in.

The wine list is basic - Chardonnay or Merlot, and they were
out of Merlot. lili joined me in a Shiner Bock, far more
satisfactory, and a pound of fatty brisket, which was
surprisingly excellent meat, though not very smoky - there
were signs of a smoke ring that was mostly cut off, worse
luck. At least they didn't cut off all the fat. What is it
with some so-called barbecue places that trim their brisket
to get rid of the bark and the fat and the smoke ring and
present you proudly with what is essentially dry pot roast?
Sonny's at least had the decency to leave some of the goodness,
but why trim at all?

His sauce is coriander-heavy and moderately sweet, improved
quite a bit with a squirt or three of Cholula.

Back to the hotel, where we were kept awake all hours by
parties going on down there nine stories; one got really loud
around 1 and went on with breaks until 3 plus, then afterward,
blessed sleep.

That godsend 29 bus took us downtown, where we hopped the
light rail one or two stops to the Sheraton Dallas.

Yummmmmmm! :)

Great trip report BTW.

What a fantastic trip report. You're like an alternative universe Seat 2A.

Thank you!

Still got a soft spot for that stuff, do you. Well, it's
saved my bacon on a few occasions.

I read Seat 2A's reports as well - thank you.

It sounds like you were on a bit of a schedule, but next time you make it to Dallas you need to try Pecan Lodge. I can assure you they will serve your brisket exactly as you want it and their fatty is amazing.

Sonny's doesn't even make the top 50 BBQ joints in Dallas anymore. It was a sad state around here until Pecan Lodge showed up, now there are dozens of well above average places in town.

Heim is the Pecan Lodge equivalent in Fort Worth.