Posts Tagged ‘restaurant’
Fabulous Show
Last night, Cyndie and I met our friends, Pam and John, for dinner and a show in Minneapolis. We picked them up at their house after feeding the horses and Asher a little earlier than usual in the afternoon. We ate downtown at the Clay Oven restaurant for Indian food. They offer a huge selection of freshly prepared options, and luckily for us, they ask what level of spiciness you prefer for each choice. Delicious eats!
It was just a short drive away to the Orpheum theater to see David Byrne’s first of two nights on his “Who Is the Sky Tour.”
The show was fabulous. The dramatic stage projection images were really powerful. Their opening song was “Heaven,” and it looked like they were performing on the moon. Much to my liking, he performed a good number of popular Talking Heads songs throughout the set.
The visual imagery was striking. Seeing the show from the balcony allowed for a great view of the floor scenes as they changed from the lunar surface to grass, then a dirty city street, a rooftop, and even a shot of his actual apartment in New York City.
The thirteen members of the ensemble backing him up were completely mobile and moved around the whole time like a precision marching band. During the song with their names, the words followed them around wherever they went.
The packed house gave him many rousing ovations, particularly after one impressive visual extravaganza. When he stepped forward to speak after the song, the roar of the crowd picked up and was sustained for a minute or two before he could say anything.
It was a wonderful night, and the fabulous spectacle put a smile on everyone we saw leaving the theater. We had purchased our tickets late, so we were seated individually across the balcony. Waiting to meet up again after the show allowed us to stand and observe most of the folks on their way out.
David Byrne’s artistry is a welcome balm for what ails the country these days. In addition to all the smiles, it seemed like everyone had a little more hop in their step, too.
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Following Through
After writing my thoughts yesterday about protecting the small volunteer Cedar tree from the risk of having its main leader chewed off by deer, I figured it would be prudent to follow through without procrastinating. It’s funny how simple it can be to take action, yet my natural inclination aligns more with not doing things until action cannot be avoided.
The first thing I did after breakfast was to gather the materials and install a protective fence around the little tree. Now I will have a good reference for measuring how much height it gains in the next growing season. The other volunteer Cedar tree located on the far end of that field is about twice the size of this one. It’s big enough that it doesn’t need protection.
While in that field, taking care of desirable trees, I spotted three invasive common buckthorn trees that quickly became the focus of my next efforts. Two of them had obviously been cut before and were now more like a bush. I should have done this in the first place, but this time I went to get tools to dig the roots up and eradicate the nuisances once and for all.
The third troublemaker turned out to be a female with berries. I don’t know how it went unnoticed until now, except maybe because it was in the middle of a significant poison ivy area. I forged in there regardless and dug up the plant roots and any poison ivy shoots tangled within.
I’ll find out tomorrow whether I washed away any oils thoroughly enough to prevent a rash.
Two more highlights of the day involved an interview with a potential new animal sitter and then a dinner out with family to celebrate Julian’s birthday.
We got a nibble from a post Cyndie put on a job board at the University of Wisconsin, River Falls. There are students studying to become Veterinary Technicians who are perfect candidates for taking care of horses.
The woman we met yesterday is also a skilled softball player, so we will need to work around practices and the schedule for that sport if she chooses to help us out this year.
For dinner, Cyndie found a gem of a restaurant in Stillwater with a lean toward a Greek menu that none of us had known about before. Phil’s Tara Hideawy is a little off the main drag and looks like a rather unassuming log lodge from the road.
Once inside, it was bustling with energy and very busy. We were wise to have made reservations. The food was delicious and plentiful. After sharing three appetizers, we all had leftovers of our entrees to bring home afterwards.
It was a wonderful place for celebrating another family milestone and sharing memories of our years gone by.
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Brothers All
In a single day, we were with all of Cyndie’s brothers as well as her mom yesterday. We started the day with Barry and Carlos in Maine and then had dinner in St. Paul, Minnesota, with the rest of the clan for Marie’s 88th birthday celebration.
The snapshot above is a photo I took when Barry was showing Cyndie where the many volunteer shoots of birch trees were available for pulling. Why would she pull up their baby birch trees?
Never one to be intimidated by logical limitations about packing live plants in a plastic bread bag to stuff into an already full carry-on bag that gets crammed below the seat in front of her on an airplane, Cyndie brought home trees from the garden in Maine to plant somewhere around Wintervale.
I will not fixate on the long odds for her success, but instead plan to help scout out a new location where we can nurse the new transplants toward some percentage of actually surviving.
After hugging Barry and Carlos one last time as we dropped them off at their condo, we returned the wildebeest to the car rental company and boarded a shuttle headed toward our gate. Have I mentioned how much I would prefer to avoid air travel?
Mike got a ping on his phone about a delay in our flight home. As he attempted to navigate the information on the app, Barb’s and his tickets mysteriously disappeared. Cyndie still had our boarding pass screens on her phone, so Mike called the Delta service for preferred customers to work on solving the mystery.
It was a good thing we had arrived with time to spare, because it took a nerve-wrackingly long time to fix whatever had just gone wrong. In the end, their seats were re-established, and we were safe to proceed. However, the flight delay remained, and we lost precious time on our tight schedule to leave Boston and get home in time for dinner with the family members who would be gathering to celebrate Marie’s birthday.
We got to our car in St. Paul roughly a half-hour after the time of our reservation at Holman’s Table restaurant. Luckily, we were only 15 minutes away. Our daughter, Elysa, texted that the appetizers were just arriving at their table.
We showed up before they had even given their dinner orders. A family birthday celebration for the matriarch is a pretty special finish to our adventures of the previous week.
Some silliness ensued. Happy Birthday, Marie!
Dinner with the family wasn’t the final treat of our big day, though. After driving another 50 minutes in the dark to get to our house, we were rewarded with the cutest puppy-like reception from Asher when we got inside.
Gee, but it’s great to be back home…
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Around Cornish
Pausing outside Barry and Carlos’ place for a moment, waiting to load into the huge rented SUV for a jaunt to Cornish, I balanced some rocks. How long until they’ll topple becomes a subject of interest each time we pass.
Before we reach Cornish, the closest hub of commerce for the summer camps in this area, the vehicle that we’ve been referring to as “the wildebeest” (as in BEAST) made a stop at the waste transfer station. Carlos carried the bag of recycling in one direction, and Barry took the bag of trash somewhere else.
Carlos returned directly, and Barry didn’t. After a brief delay, he reappeared with an apology. He ran into someone they knew, and they had a chat. This was a hint of what we soon learned is common wherever Barry and Carlos go in the vicinity of both their place in Boston and here in Maine.
Mere seconds after Barry parked the beast in Cornish, we were standing in the road, being introduced to someone they knew. Most of the antique or craft shops we browsed included a pause for Barry and Carlos to catch up on news or introduce us to someone with whom they have a connection.
It felt a little like we were enjoying the honor of walking around with the local mayor(s).
After walking the shops, the wildebeest made a stop at the grocery store so we could augment our food stores in preparation for hosting neighbors for grilled burgers tonight. The highlight of that stop was Mike’s noble deed of quietly buying a batch of bananas to gift a mom and her son after he overheard the boy’s request get turned down because she couldn’t afford them. Mike said he got a hug from her as she mentioned that tariffs are killing them. Ouch.
Back at camp, we ate a light lunch, saving room for our early dinner reservation at Max’s Restaurant & Pub at the romantic Snowvillage Inn located in Eaton Center, NH. Cyndie and Barry decided on an earlier-than-usual timing to allow for daylight viewing of the majestic Mount Washington and the White Mountains out the window of the dining areas.
Before settling down for a short pre-dinner nap, Barry guided us on a walking tour of the neighboring camps, describing all the owners and relationships to a degree worthy of a scholarly genealogist. I’m afraid I would miserably fail if there were a test on all that we might have learned.
Since dinner was early, there was plenty of time for a frivolous card game on the porch after we got back. Snack almonds were designated as a method to tally our losses. When you lost a hand, you ate a nut. Luckily, the bag was close by for Carlos to replace his “chips” each time he accidentally ate one in the middle of a hand.
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Kicked Off
Yesterday, we kicked off the post-Thanksgiving holiday season with a brunch and a show. With our kids and some of Cyndie’s family, we gathered for brunch at the Copper Hen restaurant on Nicollet Avenue in Minneapolis. The place was hopping with good energy, the ambiance was intriguing, and the food was top-notch.
From that location, it was just a short drive to Northrop Auditorium on the University of Minnesota campus where Cirque du Soleil was offering their first-ever holiday show, “Twas The Night Before…” It was a little different to see a Cirque show confined to a small stage but the quality of acrobatics was first-rate and the entertaining sense of humor and high-energy music was on brand.
Making everything feel even more seasonally festive, Cyndie and I drove through some heavy falling snow on the way to Minneapolis. As we passed through the city of Hudson, we dropped Asher off at his new favorite canine hangout, the kennel that offers afternoon daycare in addition to overnight boarding.
It seems like he is starting to recognize the route because he got increasingly excited as we approached. In the lobby, where he had previously shown some hesitation to be separated from us, he left Cyndie behind without a glance and rushed right in to be with the rest of the hounds in attendance.
Although it made it nice for us to have him well cared for while we were out, it forced us to make a hasty exit after the show. We left the family with a nod and a wink to get our car out of the parking ramp and hit the road so we could pick him back up before they closed for the day. If we didn’t get there in time he would become an unwitting overnight guest.
During the show, our phones pinged with a weather warning that icy road conditions were possible in the area. That heightened our sense of urgency in rushing off but neither time nor weather proved to be a problem and everything worked out nicely.
I think I may have kicked off a few earworms of Christmas songs that could get old real quick, but it was special this year to jump into the festive cheer with family before the Thanksgiving weekend had even ended.
December will be here before you know it. Ho ho ho. Visions of sugar plums dead ahead.
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Impeccable
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friends
a milestone birthday
fine dining
The St. Paul Grill
impeccable evening
shared Caesar Salad
signature dressing, baked croutons
Salmon, perfectly done
topped with seven spice butter on a bed of sautéed spinach
what a sauce, a jamboree of flavors
shared sides
Hash Browns
with bacon and white onions
Asparagus Spears
perfectly, perfectly cooked
Creamed Spinach
two bites of her Bourbon Pork Chop
one of his fries
a bite of her Filet
medium, with mushrooms
three shared desserts
bittersweet chocolate, whipped cream, caramel drizzle, ice cream, more chocolate
immensely satisfying
did I mention
impeccable?
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Cosmic Evening
Our experience last night was indeed cosmic in the colossal sense. Joined by our friends, Mike and Barb, we dined at the ever so fine Capital Grille before catching Neil deGrasse Tyson presenting his “Cosmic Perspective” at the State Theater.
Typically, I was rather lukewarm to the idea when Cyndie purchased tickets last fall. April seemed so forever away and why would I want to drive to downtown Minneapolis to sit and listen to an astrophysicist talk? Now I know why. Neil deGrasse Tyson is hilariously entertaining while expounding on mind-expanding perspectives from an astrophysicist perspective.
The icing on our cake of an evening was the fact that Cyndie included Barb and Mike in our plan and selected a fine dining establishment that shares a wall with the theater. We feasted like royalty and were lucky to be served by a sublime professional who guided our selections and timed our meal with impressive expertise, right down to slipping in a delectable coconut cream pie serving for dessert with just enough time to allow me to run a doggy bag of leftovers to the car in the parking ramp down the block.
Then, it was time for the show. From the moment Neil kicked off his shoes by the podium and addressed the crowd with his good-natured, approachable delivery, I felt myself becoming an instant fan, along with seemingly everyone else in the audience, if they weren’t already.
Almost every detail or relationship of the universe he highlighted was affirming in its scientific simplicity, even when it was equally mind-boggling in complexity. The molecules in the air we breathe and the water we drink have been on this planet for centuries upon centuries and passed through others for eons.
We are built out of the same elements as the stars of the universe. It isn’t our uniqueness that makes us special, it’s our ‘sameness’.
The hubris of thinking we are anything more than we actually are is laid bare by the multitude of examples presented from a cosmic perspective. For me, it resonates with my understanding that the more we come to know, the more we realize how little we actually know.
Neil’s sharp wit provided non-stop chuckles and frequent bursts of laughter throughout the delivery of interesting scientific details about our world and its place in the universe.
When the talk appeared to be going long, he put up a universal permission slip for us all to use, especially kids for whom it was a school night. He said to take out our phones and take a picture, so Cyndie did.
We just fill in our names and we have a ready made excuse for staying out too late.
I’m not sure it will hold much influence for our horses and Delilah if we don’t serve their morning meals at the expected hour, but it helps in our minds to feel justified in our exceptional evening.
It was truly cosmic.
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Least Favorite
We are on the back side of one of my least favorite winter snow weather events this morning. Basically, I dislike it for the resulting conditions that make clearing the accumulation so annoying. It doesn’t make for pleasant conditions for animals that have to endure the tribulations of dealing with the wide range of precipitation, either.
It starts like this:
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The temperature climbs well above freezing and a light mist of wetness falls to get everything good and wet. The warm temperature also starts to melt the snow already on the ground.
Next, big snow moves in and falls in gorgeous flakes that make the world look like every favorite winter snowscape scene you’ve ever witnessed.
That puts you in a gleeful state of mind that becomes a set up for the other shoe that is going to drop when it comes time to shovel or plow when the precipitation is over.
The wet snow sticks to every surface and paints trees with a beautiful white accent that makes the forest look like something from a fairy tale.
This is the time when the tide turns and the temperature begins to plummet while the wind kicks up to uncomfortable speeds. The flakes that aren’t already stuck solid to surfaces are whipped up into little missiles that embed themselves into every nook and cranny available to create a stucco concrete finish that would be the envy of many a cement craftsman.
Clearing the front steps is difficult without the aid of chemical assistance and sharpened heavy metal tools.
Alas, there is an excellent antidote for crummy weather conditions that experienced winter-hardened folk who live near destination restaurants can employ to compensate for any angst-inducing hassles of unfavorable snow conditions.
Last night, Cyndie and I had an early Valentine’s Day dinner at the Shady Grove restaurant just two miles from home and dined like royalty, finishing with our highly favored dessert treat that they expertly prepare.
With only seconds to spare before there was nothing left to show for it but a sticky doily, Cyndie snapped a photo of the remains of their salted chocolate caramel tart for posterity. My sugar ratio was definitely knocked way out of balance by the end of the day yesterday.
And that, my faithful readers, is how you go from a least-favorite to a most-favorite in just a few hundred words.
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Last Week
First off, I gotta say the Holman’s Table restaurant at St. Paul’s downtown airport is a winner in every category. Once you get past the understandable questions of whether you are in the right place as you navigate the final turns to reach the front door, everything else is sublime, from the decor to the menu. We had a great time at brunch yesterday morning.
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Last week, the news story about four elite gymnasts testifying before the Senate Judiciary Committee struck a nerve. We’ve been aware of the story of their abuse by now-convicted abuser Larry Nassar for years. It’s almost too harsh to contemplate, so when the news dies down, we gladly disregard the horror.
The new investigation into the handling of the accusations by the FBI and USA Gymnastics has brought the awfulness back to the forefront. It was almost a year after learning of the accusations before the FBI opened an investigation. It is estimated an additional 70 gymnasts were abused by him during that time.
While listening to a report describing the four gymnasts needing to recount their abuse one more time last week, this thought occurred to me: Their experience was like being tortured repeatedly after they summoned the courage to report the initial abuse.
Logic tells us they are not the only abuse victims who have dealt with this.
Imagine if you suffered a terrible injury in a remote wilderness, waiting days or weeks to be found by someone, wondering if you would survive long enough for help to arrive. It’s the stuff of countless book or film dramas. Eventually, you are discovered and relief is beyond measure. It becomes the pinnacle of these dramas. You are rescued!
Now, imagine if the people who found you don’t do anything after finding you.
Picture yourself laying there for almost another year before they start planning how they will rescue you.
That is the story of the victims of Larry Nassar and every other person whose story of abuse has fallen on deaf ears.
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Tour Nightmare
During my final hour of slumber this morning, I was deeply occupied with a new version of a recurring nightmare about the bike tour. The usual scenario involves a classic concern of seeing everyone around me departing well before I am prepared. A common second version I experience has me searching for my shoes or a wheel or some item that I should have but inexplicably discover to be missing.
This morning, it was rather specifically related to my early departure from the ride. I found myself needing to ride my bike back to the original start by myself while the rest of the group was already showered and departing for their homes. I said goodbye to them and set off on my own, trying to figure out how to backtrack the route I had previously ridden at the start.
Multiple disruptions ensued and my slow progress was leading to the hours passing and daylight waning. I was so ensconced in the dream that I continued to work on the details as I awoke and wondered if I was trying to reach our home in Beldenville or the start of this year’s tour in Hastings.
Alas, I am in Hayward and slept late into the morning after a glorious day prior filled with special attention for the occasion of my birthday. The evening was topped with a fabulous outing to the Tally Ho restaurant where the service was superb, the food delicious, and the laughs plentiful.
That was no nightmare.
Now I’m watching television coverage of the second stage of the 2021 Tour de France and contemplating a return to Wintervale today. There are a few animals that I need to get reacquainted with and some chores awaiting that will mark the completion of my days of vacation.
In a lot of ways, I am looking forward to it, but that isn’t a reflection of how I feel about the past week. It’s been grand.
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Relative Something 