Arrived ten early for my table, and there was nobody at the
front, so I freshened up (yes, more bleeding) and then came
back out, where I was immediately pounced on, greeted by
name, and shown to a nice booth. My waiter, Chris I think
his name is, was well trained as a server, helpful and kind
throughout the meal, but not 100% when it came to being a
foodist (mispronunciation is a bit of a pet peeve of mine;
also not knowing the wine list).

I ordered the three course prix fixe (69-/108- with wine
pairings), the cheapest of the four options available. I
also warned Chris (as we'll call him) that I would be
likely to order a supplementary course, as I am a greedy
SOB at heart.

Amuse: "lemon grass coconut soup with tapioca pearls,
topped with a Thai green curry creme fraiche, the chef
suggests that you stir it up and drink it through the
straw" - this was pretty much as described, the lemon
grass and coconut pronounced, a bit of salt and lime
juice adding savor. The tapioca pearls, well, they were
little and somewhat undercooked. The straw provided was
obviously meant for big tapioca. I swear, some of these
places take the good idea but don't follow through on
the details. What I'd do differently: big tapioca,
cooked enough, infused with a flavor, maybe lime
and/or onion.

A sourdough mixed-flour roll was tasty though almost cold
enough to have recently come out of the fridge; it came with
good sweet butter that was of a more pleasing temperature.
What I'd do. Nix the sourdough, which although okay in
itself, doesn't really go with food. And warm the bread.

abalone ceviche - croquettes of cod, red chimichuri [sic],
essence of cilantro - this was the meat of a small abalone,
marinated rather briefly in a not-very-acid marinade, the
result being more of a sauce than a marinade; it was topped
with a bit of good-tasting very mild salsa and what Chris
described as a watercress reduction, which it distinctly was
not. The abalone was just about right, but there was a tough
bit that hadn't been quite trimmed . The croquettes were
your standard fish cakes made with bacalhau but enlivened by
tiny dice of vegetables; they were not crisp enough, being
cooked in I believe not quite hot enough oil. They resided
on a bed of garlic-herb sauce. I'd give the dish a B. What
I'd do: just slightly better execution. And instead of
bacalhau, I'd make fritters of minced ahi or something.

starborough, 2007 sauvignon blanc, marlborough, new zealand
13.00 - "full & ripe citrus, bell pepper, spicy, one of
ceviche's best friends" - I don't care for SB in general and
NZ ones in particular and this one in minute particular, so
I asked for an alternate. I inquired about

vollrads, 2004 riesling, germany 15.50 - "green apple,
floral, mineral, white peach, lemon, not bothered by
the curry" - whether it was the Schloss Vollrads Trocken,
which Chris opined it was, and it was very dry. Okay, I
said, I'll go with that. What came instead was:

lucien albrecht, 2002 pinot gris cuvee cecile, alsace
15.50 - "mineral, green apple, pear, with a racy finish"

Well, I had this minor bovine, as there was no way this
was going to go with abalone ceviche. So the maitre d'
trotted back and returned with the Vollrads, which turned
out not to be from the Schloss and not trocken at all.
It was instead a medium-sweet, stone-fruity, slightly
herbal wine that I could not see pairing with any kind of
food at all. Plus, I'm now used to US restaurants charging
retail bottle price per glass, but as this wasn't the
estate wine, I'm guessing that this was being peddled at
close to twice retail bottle price per glass, so almost
1000% markup. I asked for a rematch with the Pinot Gris,
which turned out to be also medium-sweet, somewhat nasty,
almost metallic, and not going with the abalone either,
though it ended up doing okay by the codfish cakes.

roasted squab pot au feu - squab and mushroom broth, root
vegetables, pan crisped mochi - this was a good dish, the
bird done rare as ordered, the vegetables (pan-roast
carrots and star-anise-stewed lotus) crisp and sweet. I
don't know what the point of the fried mochi was except
to physically mimic parsnips while tasting like dim sum:
but that would work only if there were also real parsnips
to be had on the plate. The pot au feuness came from a
gravyboat of this broth poured on the ingredients at table.
I thought the dish would have been fine without; the main
effect of the liquid (aside from its star-aniseing
everything in sight) was to make the mochi soggy. What I'd
do: mix parsnips and the mochi, pan-crisping both. Dispense
with the broth, or at least serve it on the side. And so
much star anise gets boring after a while.

avignonesi, 2005 nobile di montepulciano, italy 15.00 -
"dried cherry, licorice, mushroom, earth, soft and supple"
- okay, now you're talking; this description was pretty
accurate, except for the earth part. It was way too sissy
a wine to be earthy. The fruit (plum as well as cherry)
and spice (okay, licorice pointed up by the star anise of
the food, maybe a touch of cinnamon or something as well)
were right on. The wine was if anything too soft.

or our sommelier rare wine selection,
vincent girardin, 2002 pommard 1er cru les epenots 29.00 -
"cherry, rose petals, damp earth, and spice" (add 14.00)

Nah.

tbc

I'm really enjoying it. Looking forward to the next bit.

Is it wrong that midway through the Chef Mavro bit, I read on in a distinctly Crane Brothers' narrative?

I told Chris at this point that I'd stick with the regular
progression of the menu but would add a glass of Tokay for
afters.

Amuse: "a Champagne gelee with Molokai watermelon and fresh
mint" - all the ingredients were there; I'm not sure that
the combo worked particularly, and I found myself picking
out the pieces of watermelon from the minty but otherwise
tasteless gelee. What I'd do: omit this altogether. Or, if
one needed something, offer a sorbet. Champagne sorbet
with Molokai watermelon and just a touch of sage, maybe.

Though a bit silly, this amuse did have a rejuvenating
effect on my appetite, and I ordered the supplemental course
as well, asking for the standard pairing of foie gras. So
the next dish wasn't on the plan for my set menu:

seared hudson valley foie gras - five-spiced yellow and red
baby beets, pistachio financier, grapefruit marmalade - a
really small piece of foie gras, maybe half an ounce, neatly
placed atop a slice of nut cake, with some slightly candied
fruit peel julienne in between. Put it this way, I wouldn't
have done it like this. The pistachio cake, somewhat sweet
but otherwise neutral, soaked up considerable amounts of
foie gras fat and became unpleasant. The "marmalade," not
very sweet, thankfully, was all peel and no fruit, and the
bitterness carried over to the foie gras, for which you
want to do a garnish that negates rather than accentuates
any bitterness. The beets came as a dozen tiny scooped balls
of vegetable, very cute, red ones on one side of the foie
gras assemblage, yellow on the other; these had been stewed
in a spiced syrup and performed a role similar to that of
spiced apple rings next to a pork roast. I tried both the
sweet wines with this dish; neither worked so well as a real
Sauternes; but I'm beginning to rethink this and wonder what
a dry white would do to foie gras. What I'd do: more foie
gras. No grapefruit anything. Instead of a pistachio cake, a
small slice of beef, or potato, or a potato cake, or a
handful of Terra chips - basically, anything else. As far as
the fruit counterpoint, I was an early advocate of the apple
treatment and continue so to be. The beets actually were
wonderful - though I'd cook them in a less sweet syrup,
either that or serve fewer of them.

grof degenfeld, 2006 fortissimo tokaji (2.5 ounces) 12.50 -
"spice, ripe orange, floral notes, and honey" - honey I get.
Floral notes, maybe. Spice, maybe. Orange, nyet. A very
different experience from the Tokays that I know: this was
light and fugitive, strong acid, though somewhat sweet (one
notch sweeter, if that, than the two "dry" wines they tried
to serve me with the first course).

a citrus trio - caramelized chiboust, marinated seasonal
citrus with shiso, fresh lilikoi sauce, lychee sorbet

What's a chiboust? Good question. I couldn't answer it
without a reference book. Apparently neither can the
kitchen. It's puff paste with egg white folded in, with
fruit flavor. This was just a light lemon meringue, the
top crusted like a creme brulee. Next to that, orange
segments with a distinct shiso flavor. Next to that, a
sorbet of fugitive flavor, surprisingly creamy, much too
sweet. What I'd do: just serve the fruit.

jorge ordonez, 2006 seleccion especial, malaga, spain 11.00
- "citrus blossoms, jasmine, honeycomb, and lychee - ole!"
I'm not used to this style of Malaga - this was an
unfortified unmaderized, very pale Orange Muscat, quite
sweet, slightly not acid enough for the pairing. A pretty
good wine.

The bill was considerable but exactly as anticipated.
It came with four tiny mignardises - two chocolate truffles,
a sea-salt flavored caramel, and a sesame cookie. The
chocolates and the caramel were fine. The sesame thing was
one of the nicer things I've tasted in my lifetime.

The maitre d' bowed me out, something I'm kind of
uncomfortable with. The only place where I didn't feel a
little bit funny with that was at Tetsuya's in egalitarian
Oztralia, where Tetsuya and the maitre d' and the waiter
all bowed me out, and somehow it seemed natural.

The meal on the whole was good but far from great; not what
I'd expect from one of Fodor's "ten best restaurants in the
world." would I return? The answer, an unqualified maybe.

It was only a mile and change back, so I walked. Decent
half-night's sleep (all I get these days), then off it
was to FlyerTalk to fan a flame or two.

More!More!More!
Please..

Less fancy but perhaps equally satisfying things ingested
on this trip.

Hank's Haute Dogs, Coral St. - I think this has been
featured on TV or something: the greatest dogs on the
planet, something like that. There's a new location on
Waikiki, but I figured that for a chance at the specials,
I'd best go to the original. Sadness - the special was a
buffalo bratwurst, something that somehow doesn't turn my
head. So I had a Portuguese, onion rings extra well, and
a lilikoi lime drink. The sausage was okay, a bit bland
and a bit stale-tasting (the standard order here revolves
around a Chicago Vienna Beef); the drink was really nice;
the rings were absolutely awesome. Numerous thumbs up for
these. The guy sitting next to me remarked, hyperbolically,
"have you ever paid ten bucks for a hot dog?" Turns out
that Jim is hurting from the economy, being a real estate
guy. Wonder what he was doing paying a saw for a hot dog
lunch. The reason I made the pilgrimage was rumors of
lobster dogs, duck and foie gras dogs, interesting stuff.
I'm not sure that the buzz was lived up to. Actually, I'm
sure it wasn't.

Snapper's, Ala Moana Blvd. - for starters, this is an iDine
place. For finishers, it served me a burger that was the
equal of Teddy's, plus it serves beer. For in betweens, the
bartender looked like my friend Georgia, only twenty years
younger, that is to say quite cute indeed in an Irish way.
As the Series was on, I sat there at the bar swilling
Guinnesses (followed by some local pale ale). Got the
aforementioned burger and was greatly gratified. It was
about the size of a single Teddy's and tasted almost as
good - it was leaner and therefore less flavorful, but,
big but, it came medium-rare. The wings and nachos look
really good, too. Oh, yeah, they let me plug in my laptop
behind the bar.

Off the subject. What's Peat Marwick doing contributing a
megabuck to a program dedicated to revive baseball in the
inner city? There are better ways, I think, to spend one
with six zeroes.

Bussed it back to the airport, a lengthy but inexpensive
proposition, and had an hour to waste on the T-Mobile,
followed by hot-footing it to gate 9 for boarding. Whoops,
I guess I was in a dyslexic mood, and the flight was really
departing from gate 6, where I arrived as the agent
announced zone 2.

UA 42 HNL DEN 2213 0903 763 3H was 2A Ch9^ Empower^

When I got on, most of the rather ungenerous overhead space
was full, but I found the last bin.

I voluntarily took an aisle seat, as I anticipated running
to the restroom several times over the course of the flight
streaming blood.

My seatmate was a Hawaiian woman who was going to a trade
show in Houston. She was most friendly and talkative, but
all I wanted to do was check out the catering and then get
some sleep.

Good service from a good, fairly senior crew, one of whom
kept checking in on me whenever I stirred from my slumber
and addressed me with more deference than I am due.

Warm nuts, towels.

An interesting meal choice: chicken katsu over greens with
potato salad on the side or fruit and cheese plate. It's
kind of odd eating soggy fried chicken at midnight. The
chicken was rather bland and rather fatty - it was thigh
meat, and katsu sauce, though of an inferior brand, really
did help. The potato salad was wretched. Dee Dee's fruit
and cheese plate looked pretty much like what the shorter
flights get, i.e., not great, not generous. Dessert was a
triple chocolate brownie from Love and Quiches.

I conked out after a Courvoisier or two and got some good
sleep. Woke up in the midst of a prior to arrival service:
another fruit plate with a Danish pastry on the side. I
passed on this and the second hot towel service and went
back to sleep, which I did successfully until landing time.

In the daylight I got a good look at the friendly seatmate:
she was actually quite cute and younger than I thought.

Be that as it may, she had to hot-foot it to some distant
gate, and I went to the RCC for an hour before

UA 422 DEN EWR 1013 1602 752 2A Ch9 Empower

where I boarded late (eschewing the red carpet) to find a
stuffily full plane with yet another very senior but very
competent and attentive crew.

When I saw that we had but two FAs for the cabin, I
despaired, but it turns out they worked their tails off
through the flight.

Warm nuts, towels.

The breakfast choices were a chicken teriyaki salad or
roast beef and swiss on onion roll. I said I didn't care.
The FAs came back twice to make sure that I
didn't care, asking more pointedly each time, so I
dreaded what was to come. Well, it actually turns out
the sandwich wasn't bad, though it was ice-cold. The
bread was kind of stiff but didn't taste bad, the garnish
of tomato and lettuce fresh, the beef juicy if well-done
and not too salty. I didn't eat the cheese, which was your
standard deli Swiss. Both meals came with a tomato bisque
that was quite tasty.

I was asleep when the announced warm chocolate-chip cookie
was served; usually the smell wakes me up, but I was full,
and I'm coming down with a cold.

We landed right on time, and I spent an hour at the RCC
before wending my way to the far end of the terminal for
my next flight.

US Air's version of Mr. Easy Chicken wouldn't check me in,
so I had to go to the desk, where the agent initially was
unable to do so as well, but after typing frantically for
a bit was able to issue me all four boarding passes.

Security was easy; some guy in front of me was caught with
a haggis, which made me howl with laughter, and then the
TSA people started laughing, and when the guy explained
what it was, the x-ray girl said, "it sure looks like a
stomach." He was allowed to take this dangerous item onto
the concourse.

The area was stuffy and crowded, and it took me a while to
find an electrical outlet - it seemed harder than in the UA
concourse. On the whole I find EWR less than pleasing, and
the A terminal the worst of the three, and the US concourse
not as nice as UA's (I've not been in the middle one).

US1895 EWR CLT 1825 2028 734 2A

A jolly, very senior crew, with one guy and one gal working
the front. The PA wasn't working, so as they dithered about
this I envisioned my connection evaporating; but soon an
electrician came aboard and fixed things after only a short
delay. We took off a hair late and landed quite early, which
was spoiled by our gate being reassigned, entailing driving
to Greensboro and back, or so it felt.

The flight itself was pleasant. I asked for a hot toddy and
had to explain what it was. A toddy made with CC isn't the
greatest-tasting thing in the world, but it does stop the
cough. The FAs kept me in booze, but I was fairly modest
about things and didn't ask for thirds, or was it fourths.
After this medication I snoozed for a bit and was woken by
the landing crunch.

I've written about Brookwood Farms, which is a not great
Q chain that seems to have sewn up the airport market
outside Memphis. Well, I was at the airport, and Burger
King didn't appeal, and the Manchu Wok didn't appeal, so
I gave it another shot. Somewhat better than before. There
was a line of 3, as opposed to a line of 10 or more at the
rest of the places, so I didn't feel particularly guilty
about sneaking forward and checking out the wares. The
brisket looked smoky and a little fatty, so I got a
plate for $10: about 4-5 oz of the meat, two sides from
an assortment of mash, mac and cheese, green beans, fried
okra, corn, and a few other things. I went for the fried
dill pickle and Brunswick stew. Also cornbread or hush
puppies come. Last time, one pickle spear counted as the
side; this time I got 4. They were quite good, though
from not only different pickles, but different genres of
pickle. Two of the wedges were really, really spicy hot
and delicious; the other two were not spicy at all but
still okay tasting, better than the brisket. The meat,
though it looked smoky, wasn't particularly; and though it
had looked a little fatty behind the counter, they must have
cut off that layer when I wasn't looking, as there was only
the slightest hint of fat, so it was again the cardboardy
dry experience. Brunswick stew was quite good, and the
hushpuppies were, though underseasoned, palatable. Next
time: just Brunswick stew and a side of pickles!

US1801 CLT PBI 2209 2358 734 2A

Didn't bother with the club but rather sat near the gate
and used CLTNET. When I figured it was time to board, I
strolled there to see that boarding was in fact almost
complete. At the end of the jetway was a knot of about
half a dozen passengers and a clear path to the plane
in front of them. What was that all about? Turns out that
for some reason, boarding had been halted while the local
constabulary were fetched for reasons that remain unknown
to me (the FAs, when queried, could or would offer no
explanation). Eventually, two of Charlotte's finest left
the plane, no perp in tow, and we were free to board. There
were 4 seats left up front. I took one of them.

We sat for a while to wait for delayed connections; during
this time a couple of cheeky college girls tried to scam
their way into F. They were sent on their way rather
perfunctorily, and headed back with embarrassed grins. I
reflected on that though they were undeniably cute, I would
have a difficult time sitting next to one of these subprime
lenders or Enron executives of the 2010s and 2020s. For
some reason, a husband and wife were separated into 1F and
3F. The purser let them sit together in 3, which left 1DF
and 2C open. Eventually 1D was taken by a guy who looked
just like Richard Widmark and 1F by a pilot. 2C remained
open; I don't know if it was because my special status,
my general state of unwashedness, or the fact that my
cough was beginning to ripen.

Again I had to explain what a hot toddy was, this time to a
taciturn, almost New Englandy gent serving the cabin, his
more outgoing female counterpart working the back. After
finishing just one, it was time for my snooze.

Landed more or less on time, though we waited ten minutes
for the jetbridge driver to get things right - it was
amazing and amusing, but he positioned and repositioned
the thing it must have been a dozen times. Finally we were
allowed to deplane to an empty terminal. Though I had my
return passes, I left the gate area for the quite luxurious
public waiting area, which seems ideal for turnarounders.
The seats are comfy, whether you want office chairs in
carrels, armchairs around coffee tables, stuffed couches
built for two, or benches on which one can stretch out for
a nap. Me, I'd had considerable booze and airframe vibration
enhanced sleep, so I stayed up all night and worked.

Morning came surprisingly quickly, and at 6 something I went
back in through security. A rather dim TSA checker looked at
my passport using his loupe the wrong way to; puzzled, he
turned it rightway up, looked again, then turned it upside
down again. There were three lines open, one with the dread
puffer machine, and nobody wanted that one, so I took it.
In this line, the conveyor is extended by one of those
inclined paths with little metal wheels: you put your stuff
on it, an additional TSA guy (I guess the one who makes sure
you go the right way into the puffer) pushes it down the
thingy, where my rollaboard made a merry racket and the
computer bag, being somewhat soft, got caught in the works.
You go in. The puffer puffs. The machinery tries to
distinguish between B.O. and explosives, which takes a
minute. Then you go through the regular metal detector. Why
there's the extra step, and why it's voluntary, I don't
figure. Is some terrorist going to say, oh, look, the puffer
machine, let's see if my Semtex sets it off?

US1588 PBI CLT 0640 0830 319 2F

Boarding was complicated by bunches of people gate lousing
it - when group 1 was called, there was a general surge
forward, so I followed a batch who pulled up short of the
gate. I looked at a random BP - zone 4. Went around and
got settled. Another very senior crew - one a (probably
dyed) brunette dumpling with a twinkle in her eye, whom I
could look at all day, the other tall, gray, matronly, both
around my age. Both gave attentive, praiseworthy service.
My seatmate was an attractive businesswoman also my age.
This time, my bev of choice was hot toddy without the toddy,
as there was still enough booze in my system. Though I could
have looked at the brunette FA all day, I didn't and snoozed
through the snack basket. She did greet me out, though, in a
voice that sounded like honey and magnolias. I smiled at her
but made an extra effort to also smile at her less outgoing
colleague, who smiled back.

Charlotte was foggy and damp, with some departure delays;
we landed near the far end of Terminal D, which is pretty
much Ultima Thule. Hiked back to the club, where the
chocolate chocolate chip muffins were nice. Did a bunch of
work and then back out to the concourse to upload the mail.
Why is the US Club out of step with the rest of the world
and blocks the free wi-fi that the rest of the airport has?
I note that PHX does the same thing, only the replacement
service offered by that club is free.

This time I boarded with zone 6 and had to stow my carryon
back there someplace.

US1478 CLT BOS 1135 1346 321 2F

I remain completely underwhelmed by this F cabin - how they
managed to take away 3 rows of F and also reduce the pitch
is one of those negative little miracles for which Tempe is
becoming known. This flight had the youngest crew of the
trip - one FA, quite attractive in an Italianate way, my
age, but the rest probably in their 30s. Signora, who had
most of the charge of the front cabin, gave perfunctory
but correct service, and the others were in and out, mostly
to hang around the front galley and schmooze with each
other and with a nonrevver in 1C. I stayed on the computer
much of the time, though I can't find an iGo tip for this
machine - neither Targus nor iGo lists a tip for the
TravelMate 6292, which though is a pain won't be a big pain
until Singapore in January: so far, the battery life seems
really good - well over 3 hours on "maximum performance."
We landed quite a bit early on a gorgeous blue afternoon,
and so back to the salt mines and Cantata 140.