Between my boss’ 2 small teams at my day-thing, everyone comes from somewhere different. We have members from Japan, China, Vietnam, India, Washington State, Pennsylvania, Texas, and of course, Louisiana. I love the variety. Spice of life, and all that. Now if the linguists/translators joined us in a supergroup we could have 5 continents covered…
Today, we had a party and invited the rest of the floor. We sorted plans out on the whiteboard.
Mr. B, blinded, in the lunchtime sunshine.
Man, it is gorgeeeeous today! My coworker, my boss, and my good friend Ms. N each had birthdays this week but Ms. N lucked out with the best sunshine.
After another good friend Vanessa’s* book launch party, we went to Ms. N’s birthday dinner at Yanni’s. The BEST Greek in Greenwood, maybe in Seattle.
*Vanessa Fox’s book is Marketing in the Age of Google. It’s so good, you should buy two copies. They also make excellent birthday and bat mitzvah gifts.
Tonight was Mr. T’s team pub night. I took this on our way home from his teammate’s new digs.
Mr. T’s grandpa is 88 years old. When he visits Washington, we love to see him. He was in town for the weekend’s wedding we also attended, and we wanted to have dinner with him before he and his lady traveled onto California for her granddaughter’s wedding. We all went to Pies and Pints with Mr. T’s parents and another uncle.
After a hiatus from visiting Pies, I feel like we’re rediscovering it all over again. Zehr gut!
Two months ago, motomotoyama & I planned to go to Spring Hill for fried chicken but due to our schedules, it couldn’t happen until today. I’d say it’s worth the wait, but as I don’t usually believe in character-building for its own sake, I’ll refrain. Instead, I’d say you should go as soon as you can make reservations, and as often as possible. They only do their fried chicken for 4 on Monday nights.
I hope they have the spaetzle on their regular sides menu. I must have it again.
Since Mr. T’s parents were helping with the wedding in the north, our Mother’s Day plans for today shifted & we got to have lunch with mopie & Ian! They are visiting from the Great State O’ California. We went with them to Lunchbox Lab, a place my friend M loves with all his heart.
I loved this butterfinger shake with all my heart. The onion fries were tasty too.
Mr. T’s cousin got married today, in Arlington. The bride and groom had a little contest to see who could get the cork farthest after slicing it off with a sword. I couldn’t tell ya what the winner got, other than satisfaction. Judging from the toasts, satisfaction was enough reward.
The drive north was BEAUTIFUL. Thanks, Washington, for making me glad to be back.
Today’s theme: visitors!
1. My good friend Irene came to the waterfront with me for lunch. We shared sandwiches from Homegrown. Tip: the grilled cheese was crazy delicious, don’t let the fennel fool you.
2. After work, I met up with mopie & Ian for happy hour at Brouwer’s, the Belgian pub. Unfortunately, I had to cut this shorter than ideal because I had another engagement with
3. Marcela! I met Marcela two and a half years ago in Buenos Aires, Argentina. She was so kind to take me around her hometown to all the sights & to take me shopping. A mutual friend of ours held a gathering downtown in her honor. I spent hours catching up with her and other friends who showed up. I hope the next time I see Marcela, we’re visiting Argentina!
A great code to live by.
On my street.
We are still readjusting to life. It’ll be a week or so yet. Tonight, we started in on the giant bin of mail.
Guess who’s birthday was today!?
I was craving Mexican food towards the end of our trip, so an impromptu dinner party at El Mestizo (thanks to Naomi’s suggestion) was in order!
Dr. Watson, I presume.
We flew back from Dublin to Seattle, via New York. I watched 3 movies between DUB & JFK! That’s more than I’ve seen in some recent years.
I tried for a 4th movie: Sherlock Holmes. We landed halfway through my viewing. Regarding the Arabic subtitles: they wouldn’t turn off.
We were grateful Delta gave us such a long layover after originally trying to get bumped earlier — getting through immigration alone took 2 hours (our 2nd time through for this flight, actually, our deplaning was rerouted by accident). We were not grateful JFK hadn’t turned on the AC yet.
We were very grateful to get home 10 minutes to midnight.
Someone needs sunglasses.
We got a late start, but made it to the Isle of Capri before noon. Our first priority: The Blue Grotto, aka La Grotta Azzurra, known since the Roman Times and visited by Augustus Caesar. To get there in 2010, you hire a boat in Capri’s Marina. The big boat takes you past these amazing cliffs of insanity to rowboat jockeys. Then you wait near the grotto entrance for your rowboat turn, and then your guide takes you into the legendary sea cave. The process takes an hour for a five minute cave tour but the journey makes it all worthwhile.
As we approached the cave in our little boat, I had that same sensation I do in the opening moments of The Pirates of the Caribbean. Here, there are no rails.
The blue reflection is spectacular. Our guide sang well, putting others to shame. Instead of sailing back to Capri’s main harbor, we asked our guide to drop us off at a pier nearby.
Then, we took a bus to Anacapri, a small town way, way up. We found another pizzeria for Quattro Formaggi (this time with blue cheese amongst the usuals).
Our next stop would be the chair lift to Monte Solaro. I’m not sure what I expected but it was definitely something more akin to chair lifts at ski resorts. At Monte Solaro, you sit in a singular wooden chair and ride for 20 minutes high above the fields up the mountainside to a viewpoint with a cafe. It was mostly very peaceful & my favorite spot on Capri, barely edging out the Grotto. I loved it so much that after an hour in the cafe we nixed plans to hike down and took the chairlift back. I considered the roundtrip journey again.
We spent some time walking around Anacapri, the Capri Palace, & Villa San Michele’s grounds before riding back to Capri for gelato and a final ride on the funicular down to the Marina.
The last hydrofoil leaves around 6, which seemed early on paper. After a day full of sights & crowds, this 6 hours felt perfectly adequate for a day trip.
More pictures from our day in Capri here:
We switched into vacation mode today, with a full roster of nothing. We awoke to sunshine & lemons on our terrace.
When practicing la dolce far niente, one still must eat. We chose Inn Bufalito for lunch.
It was no Da Franco (a little bland, actually) but gave us plenty of energy for wandering Sorrentine alleyways & the marina, and to get our bearings.
We ended our day at Il Buco, a well-known place in a restored convent. We had our second great dinner in a row: local prawns, octopus ravioli, buffalo mozzarella made nearby & served 4 ways, fettucine with walnut sauce, and baba au rhum.
The service was even better than our dinner, though maybe this was unusual — Mr. T overheard the nearby table remarking to each other that the staff was fawning all over us. I say hey, sometimes you just hit it off. I’ll take the good times.
I wasn’t sure what to expect of Southern Italy. I can be pretty Type A. I like order. Schedules. Lists. Plans. Following those plans. Italy is legendary for mixing it up. The further south you go, even more so. Would I go crazy from all the chaos? Even more importantly, would the food be any good?
Good food isn’t a guarantee in Italy — during a 2004 trip, I encountered as many downright bad meals as decent ones. Foodwise, I’d been disappointed & resigned myself to not being into Italy. Maybe France was just more my speed? But. I also know I am in a very different place in my life now. I’m much better at finding good places; I’m much more comfortable traveling in unknown circumstances. I wanted to try it again, and not solo unlike last time. So when it came time to choose springtime honeymoon destinations and given our predilection for Mediterranean destinations, Mr. T & I decided it could be the perfect setting between the coastline, potential for great food, & plenty of things to see and do. The Sorrentine Peninsula! Pizza! Pompei! Panini! Capri! Lemons! Gelato! Positano! The Amalfi Coast! Sunshine!
We arrived shortly before noon in Napoli Capodichino. Between transit & late afternoon snacks & naps, we weren’t out for dinner in Sorrento until 9 PM. How southern European of us! We picked simple: a pizzeria written as curiously beloved by locals. Curious, as in, the author wasn’t exactly sure why the patrons packed the place despite the crowds & plastic silverware and disposable cups. Curiously packed & beloved by locals? This sounded like a recipe for success to me.
Yes, dinner blew my expectations away. I knew immediately we’d come to the right place. I considered the police officers waiting for their pizza to be a good omen. When our number came up & we were seated, I ordered pizza alla diavola & Mr. T chose a pizza with parmesan & arugula and some sort of prosciutto or ham or something. I’d give you the name, but it doesn’t really matter because anything these guys at Da Franco put on their pizza tastes amazing. Plus, it turns out there’s not standardization amongst titles and their corresponding ingredients. Each establishment interprets their pizzas as they see fit. Pizza alla romana can mean anchovies in one place where anchovies are the centerpiece for pizza alla siciliana somewhere else. That’s Italy! Always mixing it up!
This pizza was something else: the flavors amazing & the crust was cooked to a perfect char. It was refreshing to spend 20 euro on dinner for 2 when we’d been ordering a single entree in Dublin for the same.
We noticed everyone else polishing off their own pizzas, but Mr. T & I could barely make a dent in half. I caught our server’s attention to ask for a takeaway box. He winked, then demurred: “Of couuuuurse.”
Then he brought us this box. Oh, Italy!
Today was our last full day in Dublin. I’ve gotten completely settled & comfortable here & tried to ignore that I was sad it was coming to an end.
I added in a little more shopping & some last visits to places I’d investigated but wanted to explore further.
After my failed attempt last week, I decided to head back to The National Museum (of Archeology). It’s what you’d expect. Plus displays of thousand-year-old REAL bodies of those found in bogs. Did I mention the bodies were real? And maybe some of them had been a bit mangled in the farm equipment used at the bogs? But they were displayed anyway?
More tamely, there was another exhibit on the sacred sites at Tara and others of Celtic or Viking significance.
Next up, The National Photographic Archive. This shoulda been a win. The current display was Witness to War, regarding the 1916 uprising and subsequent civil war. After the Gaol & other sites, the displays seemed lacking & received about 10 minutes of my time. Apparently I’ve turned into a snob about how photographs are presented in galleries, since I expect them to be a step above what I see in our lunchroom at work. My standards might be high, I don’t know.
After a quick stop at Tante Zoe’s, the cajun-creole place in Temple Bar (I know. I couldn’t help the curiosity.), I spent some more time shopping on Grafton before taking my late afternoon stroll through St. Stephen’s Green.
For dinner, we half-heartedly put our names in for reservations at the uber-touristy Gallagher’s Boxty House. I visited 6 years ago and liked it, but during our 45-minute wait, we stumbled upon Zaytoon’s Persian. Doner Kebab sounded perfect after 2 weeks of potatoes.
Tomorrow, we go to Italy!
I caught the best mate pictured above hanging in front of the bookmaker’s behind Grafton St. So loyal! Reminded me of The Baron.
We are nearly done with our main visit to Dublin this month. Since I was in the final stretch, and not reconciled to leaving, I took a long walk to The National Gallery & Grafton Street’s shopping options this morning.
Turns out, I’m a big fan of Irish artists of the 19th & 20th century. Namely, Paul Henry and his contemporaries. I’m a sucker for the way they use color and the mood of their work.
Then I learned in the giftshop that my book full of walking routes is packaged here differently as History and Mystery walks. Maybe it means they did the American packaging right that I wouldn’t be as interested in picking this up than the one I did:
The state of the Euro vs. Dollar being what it is, I’d avoided shopping. I remembered a few things I wanted to investigate regardless — so, off to Grafton Street. I hit up the fance Irish Department Store Brown Thomas for clothes and the hidden Dublin outpost of Ladurée. I picked up several lovely things though the shopping curtailed after a stop at the sweets. I would’ve gone back to the other departments, but the shopgirl doling out les macarons was a bit big for her britches, all eye-rolly like she had health insurance just for existing. So, I left Brown Thomas for the more earthly Marks & Spencer, where they didn’t have some clueless 21-year old who made me feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman trying to shop for her first nice dress. (I did like the good sir out front, though.)
Too much money later, it was time for dinner at The Winding Stair with Mr. T. Very good, but as we’re spoiled by great meals all week, this fit right in & didn’t make a name for itself. I’d go back, especially for the bookshop on the lower level.
We took a long stroll home via the Liffey.
One of the suggested historical Dublin walks from my master book sent me up O’Connell Street today past the General Post Office (where the Revolution started) and the Millennium Spire, towards the Dublin Writer’s Museum. There was a brief stop in Beshoff‘s, an Edwardian fish ‘n chips shop that turned out to be a nice place to chill out and people watch at 2:30 on a weekday afternoon. I set my expectations a little high for the museum after yesterday’s trek to Dun Laoghaire but there were similarly worthwhile anecdotes across a broader set of authors.
On my way back to get ready to meet Sasha for dinner, I made what was supposed to be a brief stop at one of the coolest ideas for an exhibit ever: A Woolly Wonder: Hyperbolic Coral Reef at The Naughton Institute slash Science Gallery, a part of Trinity College Dublin. They had a few reefs represented, an area to participate by crocheting (interactivity!), and even a Maths exhibit to demonstrate the geometric models of crochet and the ocean. You can read more about the hyperbolic coral reef exhibit here. And there is even a TED Talk about the project.
I spent far more time there than I planned. Here are photos I took:
Dinner was at L’Gueuleton, yet another fantastic recommendation from Sasha, but this time WITH Sasha. I had the goat cheese tomato tart, Mr. T had the Toulouse Sausage and potatoes. AMAZING food & cozy atmosphere in a busy part of town. Recommended. I wish we had this place in Seattle.
The Irish Sky at Dun Laoghaire
For lunch, I visited Mr. T’s office. I admit. I liked it even more than his work’s Seattle cafe. Here, they have a woodburning stove! For pizza! Delicious. It happened to be Batali day, too.
Then I took the DART out to Dun Laoghaire for another afternoon walk by the sea.
Once upon a time, James Joyce lived here. He later set the opening scene of Ulysses at this tower.
Temps had turned for the colder, so I took a break in the Joyce museum. The lady in charge was so kind — asking quickly if I was a stranded traveler, were my plans affected? I told her we still didn’t know if our honeymoon would be in Italy or not. But then I voiced that there were far worse places to be stranded and we had weeks more of exploring to do in Ireland should our flight be cancelled. She said that was so lovely to hear. It was true. I left the Museum, resolving to read Ulysses sometime.
I walked another mile or so before heading to the train station for pub night with Mr. T’s colleagues. Time to watch Barcelona vs. Milan!
After the weekend’s grand voyage, I kept a lower profile today: cabbing it to Kilmanhaim Gaol to take the historical tour. My cabbie promised I’d want to shoot every last Englishman after I was finished there. I chose not to bring up my ancestry at this point.
Kilmanhaim was built as a humane prison based on the theories of Jeremy Bentham but spent far more time housing “criminals” during the famine and rebels during political conflict. The leaders of the 1916 Easter Rising were executed here. Its last inmate became the future prime minister of Ireland. The doors were officially closed for good in 1924 after over a century of operation.
As our guide talked of how the British could have fed the Irish during the famine, how crops did grow in Ireland for shipment back to England while the Irish suffered The Great Hunger or migrated, I couldn’t help but think of the news story I’d read that morning. The one about all that food bound for Europe, rotting today in Africa due to planes grounded by the ashcloud.
From the Gaol
Afterward, I walked back from Dublin 8 past the Irish Museum of Modern Art — past the outdoor exhibits and Royal Gardens and past St. Patrick’s Hospital and the Guinness Storehouse.
In the field at Irish MMA
Before dark, I caught a bus at Christchurch back to our hood by the Grand Canal. For dinner, Mr. T & I paid a repeat visit to one of our favorites: Juniors Deli. If you ever visit Dublin, Juniors needs to be in your top 3 places to dine. We walked home along the canal.
