Monday, March 26, 2012
... And then it's over when the clock strikes midnight
Three weeks after I departed, my trip came to a close at midnight when I rolled into Madison after a fifteen hour drive from Denver. Lots still to write about but it's a little hard to believe I don't have anything planned for tomorrow or somewhere to be.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Colorado beer run!
Arrived in Denver and went on a beer run with John and Craig at argonaut liquor. All Colorado microbrews, all the time. Attached is a picture of all the beer in the fridge of our rental condo; while at the store I had to say "we are gonna need a bigger boat."
It's going to be a good week.
We have:
Odell (my second favorite brewery) - cutthroat porter, red ale, five barrel pale ale, easy street wheat, 90 shilling ale
Oskar blues - gubna imperial IPA, dales pale ale
Upslope - craft lager, pale ale, IPA, brown ale
Great divide - Titan IPA
Boulevard - pale ale
Left hand - milk stout, black sack porter, stranger APA, 400 pound monkey IPA
BRISTOLS - laughing lab scotch ale
It's going to be a good week.
We have:
Odell (my second favorite brewery) - cutthroat porter, red ale, five barrel pale ale, easy street wheat, 90 shilling ale
Oskar blues - gubna imperial IPA, dales pale ale
Upslope - craft lager, pale ale, IPA, brown ale
Great divide - Titan IPA
Boulevard - pale ale
Left hand - milk stout, black sack porter, stranger APA, 400 pound monkey IPA
BRISTOLS - laughing lab scotch ale
Monday, March 19, 2012
First World Problems: How Much Pow?
This morning I have the white person problem of deciding whether to go to Alta and it's 24" of fresh snow - but is at least an hour away from my hotel - or Snowbasin and it's 12+" which are only about 30 minutes away.
Update: apparently I'm not the only one who decided to go to Alta- I'm not even on the main road and traffic is at a complete standstill.
Update: apparently I'm not the only one who decided to go to Alta- I'm not even on the main road and traffic is at a complete standstill.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Oddities: Nevada and Utah
Nevada: where prostitution is legal and every gas station has a casino. I also saw my first "Mom and Pop" casino. It was in a strip mall, where you might see a Subway, but instead it was definitely a casino. Nevada's mountains are gorgeous, by the way.
Utah is interesting. Their road signs, rather than warn against drunk driving - it being Utah and all, with the Mormons and all - instead warn against driving while drowsy. I suppose that since the Mo's can't have coffee or tea this is a bigger problem than drunk driving. They also had a "speed check" system where they first showed a sign that told you how fast your car would theoretically be going if driven at the speed limit - 48 seconds per miles at 75 mph. Then came a series of mile markers showing you how much elapsed time should have passed 48 seconds for one mile, 1 minute 36 seconds for two, etc. As if 1) they weren't aware speedometers existed or 2) they assumed you would actually start a stopwatch. Perhaps it was a passive agressive way to guilt trip speeders. I almost wanted for there to be a cop at the end of the five mile stretch who would stop me, so I could explain "sorry, officer. I mistook it as a challenge to go faster, the signs seemed to be mocking me. It won't happen again" only to do my best Craig Breedlove impression as I zoomed across the salt flats.
Utah is interesting. Their road signs, rather than warn against drunk driving - it being Utah and all, with the Mormons and all - instead warn against driving while drowsy. I suppose that since the Mo's can't have coffee or tea this is a bigger problem than drunk driving. They also had a "speed check" system where they first showed a sign that told you how fast your car would theoretically be going if driven at the speed limit - 48 seconds per miles at 75 mph. Then came a series of mile markers showing you how much elapsed time should have passed 48 seconds for one mile, 1 minute 36 seconds for two, etc. As if 1) they weren't aware speedometers existed or 2) they assumed you would actually start a stopwatch. Perhaps it was a passive agressive way to guilt trip speeders. I almost wanted for there to be a cop at the end of the five mile stretch who would stop me, so I could explain "sorry, officer. I mistook it as a challenge to go faster, the signs seemed to be mocking me. It won't happen again" only to do my best Craig Breedlove impression as I zoomed across the salt flats.
Tartine, or, Lots of Dough
San Francisco is a special place. Within San Francisco, the Mission district is a special place. And within the Mission is a special place called Tartine.
Tartine might be the best bakery I've ever been to. If you're looking for universal acclaim, this place has it; almost everybody I spoke to who had lived in San Francisco said that this place was a must see. After going there on a rainy Tuesday, I saw why. And then I saw more why on Thursday when I stopped by again for a loaf of bread. But I digress.
My first trip I went a little nuts. I ordered $17 worth of baked goods, all of it worth at least that much. First up was the Banana Cream Tart. You can pay less for a slice of banana cream pie elsewhere, but you won't want to once you have this masterpiece. First off, it's big enough to share. I ate it all by myself, but that's just me. Imagine a banana cream pie (if you've never had one, get thee to a bakery). Basically Tartine's Banana Cream Tart just takes the classic pie - crust, bananas, custard, cream - makes it awesomely and makes it even more awesome by adding surprises along the way. The surprises come at different depths and with different degrees of obviousness. I won't ruin the surprises for you, but I found myself saying "holy shit this is good" out loud, several times. Pro tip: don't read the ingredients before hand, on their website or on the menu, it's better to go on a journey of self-discovery.
Additionally, I got two of their croissants: a pain au chocolat and a ham and gruyere filled monstrosity. At $4.75 they're almost a bargain, also big enough to share. But they're so good you'll want to eat the whole thing. After savoring the tart, I tasted both croissants, fully intending to save most of each for later. That idea dissipated quickly, especially after tasting the ham and gruyere. Again, depth is the key word. The outer layer of buttery goodness had a distinct dark but not-yet-burnt, flavor and good crispness; the inner layers almost melt in your mouth, probably containing only a perfunctory amount of flour. The filling is equally good. A touch salty to go with the slight sweetness of the butter, ham and cheese are equally as smoth in texture as the flaky dough. There is a lot going on, but yet you can completely forget it all in the bliss it brings to your mouth. The pain au chocolat is superb, but not as good as the ham and gruyere, in my humble opinion.
As I mentioned, I was so impressed by Tartine that I went back several days later for their bread and I was not disappointed. The loaf is huge. And just really damn good. Even four days later, as I write this, I have some left over still with a soft, chewy interior. The bread is as all great french style bread are: perfectly crusty on the outside and yet soft on the inside. Again, depth is the best feature of this bread. Being a wheat bread, it has a bit of a darker taste to it, along with a slight sourness that accompanies the inside. Delicious on its own, it makes one of the best peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I've ever had. Probably the only negative is that the loaf is a little hard to cut, being so big, but thats really not important.
Tartine is bakery nirvana. No trip to San Francisco should be made without a stop here. Even if you're diabetic, while this place might kill you, it might also be worth it.
Tartine might be the best bakery I've ever been to. If you're looking for universal acclaim, this place has it; almost everybody I spoke to who had lived in San Francisco said that this place was a must see. After going there on a rainy Tuesday, I saw why. And then I saw more why on Thursday when I stopped by again for a loaf of bread. But I digress.
My first trip I went a little nuts. I ordered $17 worth of baked goods, all of it worth at least that much. First up was the Banana Cream Tart. You can pay less for a slice of banana cream pie elsewhere, but you won't want to once you have this masterpiece. First off, it's big enough to share. I ate it all by myself, but that's just me. Imagine a banana cream pie (if you've never had one, get thee to a bakery). Basically Tartine's Banana Cream Tart just takes the classic pie - crust, bananas, custard, cream - makes it awesomely and makes it even more awesome by adding surprises along the way. The surprises come at different depths and with different degrees of obviousness. I won't ruin the surprises for you, but I found myself saying "holy shit this is good" out loud, several times. Pro tip: don't read the ingredients before hand, on their website or on the menu, it's better to go on a journey of self-discovery.
 |
Banana Cream Tart topped with the first of the twists |
Additionally, I got two of their croissants: a pain au chocolat and a ham and gruyere filled monstrosity. At $4.75 they're almost a bargain, also big enough to share. But they're so good you'll want to eat the whole thing. After savoring the tart, I tasted both croissants, fully intending to save most of each for later. That idea dissipated quickly, especially after tasting the ham and gruyere. Again, depth is the key word. The outer layer of buttery goodness had a distinct dark but not-yet-burnt, flavor and good crispness; the inner layers almost melt in your mouth, probably containing only a perfunctory amount of flour. The filling is equally good. A touch salty to go with the slight sweetness of the butter, ham and cheese are equally as smoth in texture as the flaky dough. There is a lot going on, but yet you can completely forget it all in the bliss it brings to your mouth. The pain au chocolat is superb, but not as good as the ham and gruyere, in my humble opinion.
As I mentioned, I was so impressed by Tartine that I went back several days later for their bread and I was not disappointed. The loaf is huge. And just really damn good. Even four days later, as I write this, I have some left over still with a soft, chewy interior. The bread is as all great french style bread are: perfectly crusty on the outside and yet soft on the inside. Again, depth is the best feature of this bread. Being a wheat bread, it has a bit of a darker taste to it, along with a slight sourness that accompanies the inside. Delicious on its own, it makes one of the best peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I've ever had. Probably the only negative is that the loaf is a little hard to cut, being so big, but thats really not important.
Tartine is bakery nirvana. No trip to San Francisco should be made without a stop here. Even if you're diabetic, while this place might kill you, it might also be worth it.
A Heavenly Day at Tahoe
In the months leading up to this trip, I thought that I had chosen the worst possible year to go on a big ski trip. While that may be true, I couldn't have picked a better possible time this year to do it. Exhibit A: 40+ inches of snow at Heavenly Resort on the 17th. While it may have been St. Patricks day and the Jameson and Guinness were flowing, champagne would have been more appropriate; the snow that came in the night was some of the driest and fluffiest I have ever skied on. People on the lift were saying that much of the lower parts of the mountain had been mostly brown just a day before, but that day, there was nothing but gnar to be shred.
I had promised myself that if in fact I did get an epic powder day on this trip, I would splurge and rent some demo skis. I like my skis fine, but given the opportunity, I wanted to see what fatter ones would be like. Seeing my opportunity, I was set up with some Salomon Shoguns, and by 8:30 am I was on the lift. I made the mistake of not consulting a map. Had I done so, I probably would have headed straight to the Powderbowl instead of starting out with the Face, a steep, long double-black diamond run that ran from the top of the first lift to the California Lodge. Not knowing what else was there, I did it again, since the snow was still fairly untracked. Only once I went up to the Powderbowl did I understand my error: untracked pow pow through manageably steep glades as far as I could see. The trees were far enough apart that I could really fly through them, which I found out was almost a necessity, as you don't want to be caught going too slow through thigh-deep powder - you'll just get stuck. Once, after falling down, I lost a basket at the end of my pole in the struggle to get up. I found it annoying to ski without it, so I had to head down to the lodge to get a replacement - back down the double black slope.
Skiing The Face/Gunbarrel three times not only took time out of my morning, but strength out of my legs. By the time I got back up to the Powderbowl, much of the snow had been tracked over, and my quadriceps were killing me. After one run where I biffed a few too many times, I took a much needed break for lunch.
Originally I had planned to go to Tahoe with my brother, Chris, and his girlfriend. However, the girlfriend couldn't make it at all, and Chris couldn't until Saturday afternoon. But he showed up on the mountain in his best approximation of ski clothes - running gloves, and a fleece with a rain jacket over it (he is not a skier). I then gave him a crash course, trying to remind him of all the things we learned in the few times we went downhill skiing growing up and everything about skiing downhill on cross-country skis. After a few trips down the lazy slopes of the green runs, we moved onto a long blue route that took us all the way up to the top of the mountain. Up there the trees were short, needless, and plastered with snow. I regret I did not take a picture. He handled the mini-moguls well, while I would dart off into the woods in search of pow, only to pop out and rejoin him farther down the slope.
After we were done skiing, we checked into the hotel room at the Timber Lodge in Heavenly Village, which I had paid for with 30,000 Marriott Rewards points. It was nice, but all I really needed was a hot tub. After a good 7+ hours of skiing, my legs were shot and my lower back ached. After a good 40 minutes in the hot tub, Chris and I went out for dinner at a pizza place, which seemed to be the only place other than a completely empty taqueria (seriously, we didn't even see the staff) that didn't charge $20 a plate.
It being St. Patrick's day, we thought ourselves remiss if we didn't at least try to go out, even if both of us were dead tired. Since South Lake Tahoe is right on the border of California and Nevada, there are many large Casinos on the East side of town. We went into Harrah's to check out the scene, but quickly left. Though I love drinking, I don't particularly like St. Patricks day. It's annoying in the same way that Olympic years bring out thousands of people who are suddenly experts in judging diving or gymnastics along with actual experts who seize upon people's willingness to finally listen: it glorifies alcoholics in such a way that those who aren't pretend that they are, and those who are pretend that it's not annoying. That leaves litte room for people like me who have their serious drinking under control. The clientele at Harrah's this particular night did nothing to motivate me to party: lots of dudes I know I wouldn't be friends with hanging on lots of girls I know I couldn't hold a conversation with. Apparently penny slots there don't actually take pennies and you can't actually just lay down the keys to your car at the roulette table. At least the blackjack dealers had really low cut shirts. Chris and I instead got a six pack, some pizza rolls and went back to the hotel room to watch South Park.
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| The Heavenly View out to Lake Tahoe |
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| Salomon Shoguns |
Skiing The Face/Gunbarrel three times not only took time out of my morning, but strength out of my legs. By the time I got back up to the Powderbowl, much of the snow had been tracked over, and my quadriceps were killing me. After one run where I biffed a few too many times, I took a much needed break for lunch.
Originally I had planned to go to Tahoe with my brother, Chris, and his girlfriend. However, the girlfriend couldn't make it at all, and Chris couldn't until Saturday afternoon. But he showed up on the mountain in his best approximation of ski clothes - running gloves, and a fleece with a rain jacket over it (he is not a skier). I then gave him a crash course, trying to remind him of all the things we learned in the few times we went downhill skiing growing up and everything about skiing downhill on cross-country skis. After a few trips down the lazy slopes of the green runs, we moved onto a long blue route that took us all the way up to the top of the mountain. Up there the trees were short, needless, and plastered with snow. I regret I did not take a picture. He handled the mini-moguls well, while I would dart off into the woods in search of pow, only to pop out and rejoin him farther down the slope.
After we were done skiing, we checked into the hotel room at the Timber Lodge in Heavenly Village, which I had paid for with 30,000 Marriott Rewards points. It was nice, but all I really needed was a hot tub. After a good 7+ hours of skiing, my legs were shot and my lower back ached. After a good 40 minutes in the hot tub, Chris and I went out for dinner at a pizza place, which seemed to be the only place other than a completely empty taqueria (seriously, we didn't even see the staff) that didn't charge $20 a plate.
It being St. Patrick's day, we thought ourselves remiss if we didn't at least try to go out, even if both of us were dead tired. Since South Lake Tahoe is right on the border of California and Nevada, there are many large Casinos on the East side of town. We went into Harrah's to check out the scene, but quickly left. Though I love drinking, I don't particularly like St. Patricks day. It's annoying in the same way that Olympic years bring out thousands of people who are suddenly experts in judging diving or gymnastics along with actual experts who seize upon people's willingness to finally listen: it glorifies alcoholics in such a way that those who aren't pretend that they are, and those who are pretend that it's not annoying. That leaves litte room for people like me who have their serious drinking under control. The clientele at Harrah's this particular night did nothing to motivate me to party: lots of dudes I know I wouldn't be friends with hanging on lots of girls I know I couldn't hold a conversation with. Apparently penny slots there don't actually take pennies and you can't actually just lay down the keys to your car at the roulette table. At least the blackjack dealers had really low cut shirts. Chris and I instead got a six pack, some pizza rolls and went back to the hotel room to watch South Park.
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| This was supposed to capture how awesome the snow (and view) was |
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| Hangin at the Timber Lodge |
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| Heavenly Gondolas coming into the Timber Lodge |
Saturday, March 17, 2012
EPIC POWDER DAY!!!!!1!!!
Holyshit I'm so excited. Just woke up in Carson City Nevada, about to go to Lake Tahoe for another day and Heavenly, where my next hotel is, just got 48 inches of snow last night.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Day Tripping in Berkeley
Wednesday I took a trip outside of San Francisco to Marin County, north of the city, and Berkeley in the East Bay. I couldn't have picked a day with worse weather. Wednesday was gray, cold, and rainy unfortunate for a college town with hip streets to walk down and allegedly some of the most picturesque towns with some of the most stunning views of the Bay.
My day started out with a (free!) drive across the Golden Gate Bridge into Marin County. I drove through Sausalito, which I previously knew only from the Pepperidge Farm cookies with the same name. It looked nice, and apparently has great views of the bay, but all I say was a wall of gray. I moved on to Berkeley, home of the flagship campus of the University of California. Coming from the "Berkely of the Midwest", and friend to several current and former Cal students, I was keen to see what the place was like. I walked around a bit on Telegraph Avenue, the hub of student shopping and dining. I then went onto the campus itself. First I checked out the anthropology museum, where there was a great exhibit about brewing traditions around the world. The exhibit touched on the fact that almost everywhere that agriculture arose, brewing arose concurrently, which only gives further credence to the idea that our ancestors just wanted to get drunk and forming civilizations was almost completely a byproduct of their decision to band together to more easily brew beer. Probably not widely accepted, but fun to think about. I also checked out the Physics department, where my friend DY is a student; unfortunately for me, he is in Switzerland at CERN. Baller. I also tried to check out Nobel laureate George Smoot's office, but he wasn't around.
Before I left Berkeley, I stopped by the Berkeley Bowl grocery store, on the recommendation of my brother's Girlfriend. As anyone who has seen my OkCupid profile knows, grocery stores are one of my "happy places". This one was like the Shangri-La of grocery stores. Though it was pricey at points, it was a cook's dream. I went in to grab some steak to go with the wine I had brought up from Santa Barbara and walked out with an entire menu, plus some fresh citrus fruit for the road. The orange/tangerine section of this place was almost as big as many other grocery stores's entire produce sections (photo to come).
I finished my day trip with a visit to the Cheese Board pizza. On one of Berkeley's busier streets, the Cheese Board is a fromagerie with a pizza shop attached. Some will recall my fondness for the simplicity of In N Out's menu, and it doesn't get any simpler than Cheese Board pizza: they make one kind of pizza each day; a slice is $2.50, a half or whole pizza is four or eight times that, equal to the number of slices you get. The day I went they were making roasted potato, pasilla pepper, feta, mozzarella, and cilantro. I had a Boont Amber to go with it as I enjoyed my half-pizza while listening to live a live trio playing in the restaurant. On a rainy Wednesday, people were lined up out the door the entire time I was there; when the indoor seating filled up, patrons sat outside, albeit under an awning, to enjoy their slices. A cool place, and apparently a Berkeley tradition.
My day started out with a (free!) drive across the Golden Gate Bridge into Marin County. I drove through Sausalito, which I previously knew only from the Pepperidge Farm cookies with the same name. It looked nice, and apparently has great views of the bay, but all I say was a wall of gray. I moved on to Berkeley, home of the flagship campus of the University of California. Coming from the "Berkely of the Midwest", and friend to several current and former Cal students, I was keen to see what the place was like. I walked around a bit on Telegraph Avenue, the hub of student shopping and dining. I then went onto the campus itself. First I checked out the anthropology museum, where there was a great exhibit about brewing traditions around the world. The exhibit touched on the fact that almost everywhere that agriculture arose, brewing arose concurrently, which only gives further credence to the idea that our ancestors just wanted to get drunk and forming civilizations was almost completely a byproduct of their decision to band together to more easily brew beer. Probably not widely accepted, but fun to think about. I also checked out the Physics department, where my friend DY is a student; unfortunately for me, he is in Switzerland at CERN. Baller. I also tried to check out Nobel laureate George Smoot's office, but he wasn't around.
Before I left Berkeley, I stopped by the Berkeley Bowl grocery store, on the recommendation of my brother's Girlfriend. As anyone who has seen my OkCupid profile knows, grocery stores are one of my "happy places". This one was like the Shangri-La of grocery stores. Though it was pricey at points, it was a cook's dream. I went in to grab some steak to go with the wine I had brought up from Santa Barbara and walked out with an entire menu, plus some fresh citrus fruit for the road. The orange/tangerine section of this place was almost as big as many other grocery stores's entire produce sections (photo to come).
I finished my day trip with a visit to the Cheese Board pizza. On one of Berkeley's busier streets, the Cheese Board is a fromagerie with a pizza shop attached. Some will recall my fondness for the simplicity of In N Out's menu, and it doesn't get any simpler than Cheese Board pizza: they make one kind of pizza each day; a slice is $2.50, a half or whole pizza is four or eight times that, equal to the number of slices you get. The day I went they were making roasted potato, pasilla pepper, feta, mozzarella, and cilantro. I had a Boont Amber to go with it as I enjoyed my half-pizza while listening to live a live trio playing in the restaurant. On a rainy Wednesday, people were lined up out the door the entire time I was there; when the indoor seating filled up, patrons sat outside, albeit under an awning, to enjoy their slices. A cool place, and apparently a Berkeley tradition.
Soaked at Kirkwood
I haven't even been able to write about half the stuff I did in the bay area, it seems, and I'm already off on the next part of my trip.
I spent a wet but very enjoyable afternoon at Kirkwood ski area. The snow that fell all day may as well have been rain the bottom of the mountain but up top it gave me a nice powder day. Visibility ranged from poor to near white out at times - which was a bit harrowing - but it's really something to feel yourself plow through a mogul field full of fresh pow pow without being able to actually see it. Hopefully that's what you feel like when you die, just floating in a white out.
My all-mountain skis were woefully inadequate. Tonight Lake Tahoe is supposed to get at least a foot of snow, so I may splurge on some high-end demo ski rentals.
More to come about San Francisco, more to come about skiing.
I spent a wet but very enjoyable afternoon at Kirkwood ski area. The snow that fell all day may as well have been rain the bottom of the mountain but up top it gave me a nice powder day. Visibility ranged from poor to near white out at times - which was a bit harrowing - but it's really something to feel yourself plow through a mogul field full of fresh pow pow without being able to actually see it. Hopefully that's what you feel like when you die, just floating in a white out.
My all-mountain skis were woefully inadequate. Tonight Lake Tahoe is supposed to get at least a foot of snow, so I may splurge on some high-end demo ski rentals.
More to come about San Francisco, more to come about skiing.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
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