People decide to do some pretty awesome things on airplanes. For instance, the man next to me right now has decided to take off his shoes and thoroughly, and I mean thoroughly, massage his besocked feet. He has also asked me to move my leg so he can put down the middle tray table so he can rest his drink there while he continues to massage his feet. This led me to think of other things people do on airplanes that are out of bounds.
Putting on nail polish. Really? We are in a tiny tube with recycled air and you are touching up your nails? I love a pregnant whiff of chemicals as much as the next girl, but only when surrounded by my favorite Vietnamese nail techs. Not ok.
Listening to your iPod or dvd player at full volume. On one flight I had a dude one row ahead of me who had forgotten his earphones and was watching a dvd anyway. No headphones. What a hero. Funny enough, I didn’t go see Death Race in the theater for a reason, and I don’t want to overhear it now. Most times people just forget to plug in their headphones and you just have to nudge them after staring awkwardly at the other passengers near you to make sure you aren’t being too sensitive. Teenagers, however, are amazing at their capacity for volume even avec earphones. I mean, how can I hear your Miley Cyrus even with engine background noise? I hate being forced to be the cranky lady next to someone who asks them if they can turn it down.
submitted by Adrienne: My favorite is people trimming their nails and letting the nails fall on the floor. Why do people think this is ok to do in public? I have now seen or heard of this being done in airport waiting areas, doctor's offices and of course at work.
SFO
Has anyone else noticed how totally lame SFO is despite being in one of the top 5 coolest cities in America? Stores are lackluster--I looked at the full map listing just to be sure. And yeah, I am. There is a minimum of natural light. They have the offensive inward swinging bathroom doors. There is no Starbucks (which isn't bad in and of itself, but there are not commensurately good or pentiful enough subsstitutes) and San Fran certainly ahs enough awesome local coffee options to sub in, but they are NOT using them. The ceiling has fluorescent lights and lame popcorn tiles. Boo. They do have a Body Shop for antiaging. Where are my organic food markets and napa valley wine selections? I need a cheese shop, stat. As it is I will settle for their whoop-de-crap of a Gordon Biersch. A sad place to spend a football Sunday.
Lucky for SFO I am heading up to SeaTac, which, unless it has been remodeled in the last year, is also a big yawnicus maximus of an airport for serving such a fantastic city. Hasn't been remodeled. On further observation, I actually I like the generally easy access whereby you just pop downstairs and catch a tram and don't have to walk for 50 miles (United). But the ceilings are so low. Like they are replicating they stifling gray of the outside world. Boo. Come on Seattle, be cool!
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Portland for the Lady of the Evening
And by Lady of the Evening I mean, lady who works all day and can only enjoy Portland in the evening. Disappointed? Maybe I can tempt you with the foreknowledge of multiple evening foodgasms at various Portland eateries. Yes, food so good it feels almost wrong to eat it in public. I wonder if the fact that Portland is a haven of every subset of liberalism leads to more interesting and higher quality food? What would happen if people actively didnt eat food that wasn't sustainable or organic, like if it were a bad business proposition to serve it? I think the result is tasty Portland. The city has a really cozy vibe. I was really excited to visit for the first time because my favorite now-defunct band (sleater-kinney) is from there and they have immortalized it and its hipster pub-trivianess in song. And it *is* super hipster. You can't swing a dead cat and not hit a person wearing skinny jeans and a trendy palestinian-inspired scarf. But it's also like a lot of interconnected small town main streets (except for the Pearl district which is an actual downtown glass jungle.) And my trainees were by far the most compassionate (yes, PC liberals) toward low income families that I have run across.
Anyway, I can't say much about the natural beauty except for seeing lovely snowy mountains on descent into the airport (which violates my rule about being too long with too many moving walkways), but which has some weird wonderland area and some fun local eateries in it. Here's what I *can* write about:
The wee small hours of the morning. Let's talk coffee. I read about Portland eschewing chain coffee (Starbucks as public enemy number 1) and chain everything for the most part, in favor of independent stores. So while I don't buy into the Starbucks hate because of my stint working there and being covered by health benefits as a part-timer, (and neither did my trainees apparently, because at least 3 of them brought in ye olde evil empire coffee every day) I still wanted to try to keep it local as far as my daily brew. This was more difficult than I expected because my daily route from Multnomah to Hollywood was strangely void of coffee establishments. Day 1 I tried the Cafe D'Arte right by my hotel and their espresso was decent but slightly bitter. I liked that they didnt have a set americano size, so I got a smaller cup with less water. I asked my trainees where I could get coffee in the Hollywood district the next day. They said Starbucks. wrong. so I asked for anything not Starbucks. They said "there is a coffee shop next to the Trader Joe's", which, upon further examination, was a Panera Bread. This is like when my father used to tell us how much he enjoyed going to "the sandwich shop" where they knew him and exactly how he liked his sandwich, and when we went to visit him we realized "the sandwich shop" was the Subway across the street. After tenacious investigation (aka driving away from the Panera Bread) I found the Aliviar Coffee Shop. Their americano totally seduced me for the rest of the week. They gave me some expert explanation of their two bean blend roast yadda yadda. All I know is it was cheap and I didn't have to sweeten it because the espresso was so smooth. I actively miss it. The other nice strong brew I had was Stumptown, which was great for an evening pick-me-up.
Let's talk food. Oh man, ready yourselves because I ate my way through Portland. They are 5 pounds lighter. I am not.
Let's start with breakfast, which is simple because after I had Grand Central pastries I never wanted anything else. Ever. Buttery crunchy scones soft and slightly sweet inside, that includes both the raisin and the ones filled with raspberry jam (which had been slightly carmelized). I had a flaky mushroom pastry--which made me totally rethink savory morning pastries, chocolate and plain croissants, cinnamon apple bread--oh so moist!, and cookies. They all rivaled the best of their kind I have ever had anywhere. Including in Paris.
Lunch: I had some incredible Thai Food at Sweet Basil, which was close to our training site. The Sweet Basil chicken, which is ground chicken with sweet basil and peppers and scallions was a personal favorite. The 2 item lunch special is so the way to go. We also ordered out from a Balkan food place called the 2 Brothers Cafe owned by the uncle of one of my trainees. It was totally delicious and fairly unique as far as cuisines I have tried. I asked if it was like Russian food and I was told it was not at all like Russian food (but it's kind of like Russian food). I had a chavapi which is a half a pita-esque bread (but way moister) filled with flavorful sausages. very simple. very delicious. comes with sour cream, which really sets it off (not Russian at all). Also comes with this red pepper paste which is delicious. I also had their ghoulash which was good, but actually TOO meaty for me. I would have preferred more veggies, but again the flavor was hearty and delicious--satisfied my soup craving for the day. The word for 2 Brothers was definitely flavorful, not spicy at all. Sweet Basil--flavorful and, if you don't take their hotness grading system seriously, verrry spicy.
Dinner: Flew in Sunday and grabbed dinner at Burgerville, which I had heard was potentially better than In-n-Out. I wouldn't say better exactly, but having far more interesting offerings than In-n-Out or other typical burger places? absolutely. I had the peppercorn bacon burger. yummy. and SWEET POTATO FRIES at the drive-thru? heavenly. Keeping it low and greasy, another night I partook of VooDoo Donuts for dinner. VooDoo Donuts are rad, but not necessarily because they *taste* better than other donuts. They are definitely tasty, don't get me wrong, but their real delight comes in the fantastically colored Willy Wonka presentation and unique flavors of the donuts. The maple bacon was my favorite (just a nice, dense maple glazed bar with bacon on top) but the lemon chiffon, chocolate peanut butter fritter, and voodoo donut (a voodoo doll made of chocolate glazed donut filled with raspberry jam and with a little voodoo pretzel in his heart) were also excellent. and they were each, as my friend Camille put it, "the size of an ottoman".
Monday dinner was at the Bread and Ink Cafe, a real gem of a place with a good fixed price menu. Garlic cheese bread with tomato basil sauce was exactly as expected. Their bread is dense as a hockey puck, still moist, but crazy dense, so my recommendation would be to lay off. My spaghetti was the real star. Fresh spaghetti with bacon and arugula in a chevre (goat cheese) and garlic cream sauce....foodgasm! yesssss. and terrific reheated. the dessert, a chocolate ganache covered ricotta pound cake with candied citrus was pretty fantastic too. I actually had it for breakfast the next morning because I was too full that night and I also have no regard for traditional food rules. I am typically not a huge fan of candied citrus or citrus and chocolate, but this was melt in the mouth good with a very subtle citrus flavor. The last dinner exploit to share was at the Three Doors Down cafe. (a lot of these restaurants seem to have the word "cafe" in them, which creates an expectation of casualness that is incorrect.) I decided to go to this restaurant because one of the owners and chefs is the brother of my former radio cohost, Steve, in Taiwan. First, when I mentioned Steve's name I got special attention because they all love Steve and wish he would move to Portland. Adorable. And I got a free appetizer of parnsip puree and goat cheese bruschetta that was not only tasty, but exciting because I have always wanted to know what parsnip puree tasted like (because they mention it all the time on Top Chef). For those who don't know, it's slightly sweet and carroty.) I also had grilled radicchio wrapped in pancetta and covered in gorgonzola basil sauce. mmmmmmmmmm. (as long as you can handle the bitterness of the radicchio). For dinner I had pan-roasted white fish on top of french lentils, mushrooms, celery root, pancetta (tastes bacony), and spinach in a truffle cream sauce. It was RIDICULOUS. Fireworks in my brain. Foodgasms, paroxysms of foodgasms. not kidding. The flavors were so well-balanced, each bite was layered...Oh glory. Then again, I love lentils. And then I got to meet Steve's brother who looks virtually nothing like him, but *sounds* exactly like him. crazy.
Activities. There are famous rose gardens in Portland. Don't go there at night even when people tell you they are "lit up." Not really. You can still have the life affirming "I stopped and smelled the roses" experience and get a nice view of the city, I guess. That takes about 10 minutes. But then you should hie your ass down the hill to Powell's City of Books which is probably Portland's best extracurricular activity. It's not just "childrens", it's elementary and junior high and Newbery award winners and Caldecott award winners and so on. Used and new all intermingling. warm fuzzies. I spent an entire evening in the stacks of various departments. Anyway, I also went shopping *no sales tax in Oregon!* on the NW side on 23rd and went into a few boutiques and Lush and Paper Source. Upon realizing that what my mother said, "that's 10% right off the bat" was true, I did most of my christmas shopping.
Accommodations. The Residence Inn was fine, but it looks like a condo complex and has no elevator, which *blows* when carrying luggage. I said I couldnt stay there if they had non 1st floor units. They did, but beware.
Bicyclists . There are lots of them and they don't care about you and your impaired dusk eyesight, oh wasteful car dweller. again, beware.
Anyway, I can't say much about the natural beauty except for seeing lovely snowy mountains on descent into the airport (which violates my rule about being too long with too many moving walkways), but which has some weird wonderland area and some fun local eateries in it. Here's what I *can* write about:
The wee small hours of the morning. Let's talk coffee. I read about Portland eschewing chain coffee (Starbucks as public enemy number 1) and chain everything for the most part, in favor of independent stores. So while I don't buy into the Starbucks hate because of my stint working there and being covered by health benefits as a part-timer, (and neither did my trainees apparently, because at least 3 of them brought in ye olde evil empire coffee every day) I still wanted to try to keep it local as far as my daily brew. This was more difficult than I expected because my daily route from Multnomah to Hollywood was strangely void of coffee establishments. Day 1 I tried the Cafe D'Arte right by my hotel and their espresso was decent but slightly bitter. I liked that they didnt have a set americano size, so I got a smaller cup with less water. I asked my trainees where I could get coffee in the Hollywood district the next day. They said Starbucks. wrong. so I asked for anything not Starbucks. They said "there is a coffee shop next to the Trader Joe's", which, upon further examination, was a Panera Bread. This is like when my father used to tell us how much he enjoyed going to "the sandwich shop" where they knew him and exactly how he liked his sandwich, and when we went to visit him we realized "the sandwich shop" was the Subway across the street. After tenacious investigation (aka driving away from the Panera Bread) I found the Aliviar Coffee Shop. Their americano totally seduced me for the rest of the week. They gave me some expert explanation of their two bean blend roast yadda yadda. All I know is it was cheap and I didn't have to sweeten it because the espresso was so smooth. I actively miss it. The other nice strong brew I had was Stumptown, which was great for an evening pick-me-up.
Let's talk food. Oh man, ready yourselves because I ate my way through Portland. They are 5 pounds lighter. I am not.
Let's start with breakfast, which is simple because after I had Grand Central pastries I never wanted anything else. Ever. Buttery crunchy scones soft and slightly sweet inside, that includes both the raisin and the ones filled with raspberry jam (which had been slightly carmelized). I had a flaky mushroom pastry--which made me totally rethink savory morning pastries, chocolate and plain croissants, cinnamon apple bread--oh so moist!, and cookies. They all rivaled the best of their kind I have ever had anywhere. Including in Paris.
Lunch: I had some incredible Thai Food at Sweet Basil, which was close to our training site. The Sweet Basil chicken, which is ground chicken with sweet basil and peppers and scallions was a personal favorite. The 2 item lunch special is so the way to go. We also ordered out from a Balkan food place called the 2 Brothers Cafe owned by the uncle of one of my trainees. It was totally delicious and fairly unique as far as cuisines I have tried. I asked if it was like Russian food and I was told it was not at all like Russian food (but it's kind of like Russian food). I had a chavapi which is a half a pita-esque bread (but way moister) filled with flavorful sausages. very simple. very delicious. comes with sour cream, which really sets it off (not Russian at all). Also comes with this red pepper paste which is delicious. I also had their ghoulash which was good, but actually TOO meaty for me. I would have preferred more veggies, but again the flavor was hearty and delicious--satisfied my soup craving for the day. The word for 2 Brothers was definitely flavorful, not spicy at all. Sweet Basil--flavorful and, if you don't take their hotness grading system seriously, verrry spicy.
Dinner: Flew in Sunday and grabbed dinner at Burgerville, which I had heard was potentially better than In-n-Out. I wouldn't say better exactly, but having far more interesting offerings than In-n-Out or other typical burger places? absolutely. I had the peppercorn bacon burger. yummy. and SWEET POTATO FRIES at the drive-thru? heavenly. Keeping it low and greasy, another night I partook of VooDoo Donuts for dinner. VooDoo Donuts are rad, but not necessarily because they *taste* better than other donuts. They are definitely tasty, don't get me wrong, but their real delight comes in the fantastically colored Willy Wonka presentation and unique flavors of the donuts. The maple bacon was my favorite (just a nice, dense maple glazed bar with bacon on top) but the lemon chiffon, chocolate peanut butter fritter, and voodoo donut (a voodoo doll made of chocolate glazed donut filled with raspberry jam and with a little voodoo pretzel in his heart) were also excellent. and they were each, as my friend Camille put it, "the size of an ottoman".
Monday dinner was at the Bread and Ink Cafe, a real gem of a place with a good fixed price menu. Garlic cheese bread with tomato basil sauce was exactly as expected. Their bread is dense as a hockey puck, still moist, but crazy dense, so my recommendation would be to lay off. My spaghetti was the real star. Fresh spaghetti with bacon and arugula in a chevre (goat cheese) and garlic cream sauce....foodgasm! yesssss. and terrific reheated. the dessert, a chocolate ganache covered ricotta pound cake with candied citrus was pretty fantastic too. I actually had it for breakfast the next morning because I was too full that night and I also have no regard for traditional food rules. I am typically not a huge fan of candied citrus or citrus and chocolate, but this was melt in the mouth good with a very subtle citrus flavor. The last dinner exploit to share was at the Three Doors Down cafe. (a lot of these restaurants seem to have the word "cafe" in them, which creates an expectation of casualness that is incorrect.) I decided to go to this restaurant because one of the owners and chefs is the brother of my former radio cohost, Steve, in Taiwan. First, when I mentioned Steve's name I got special attention because they all love Steve and wish he would move to Portland. Adorable. And I got a free appetizer of parnsip puree and goat cheese bruschetta that was not only tasty, but exciting because I have always wanted to know what parsnip puree tasted like (because they mention it all the time on Top Chef). For those who don't know, it's slightly sweet and carroty.) I also had grilled radicchio wrapped in pancetta and covered in gorgonzola basil sauce. mmmmmmmmmm. (as long as you can handle the bitterness of the radicchio). For dinner I had pan-roasted white fish on top of french lentils, mushrooms, celery root, pancetta (tastes bacony), and spinach in a truffle cream sauce. It was RIDICULOUS. Fireworks in my brain. Foodgasms, paroxysms of foodgasms. not kidding. The flavors were so well-balanced, each bite was layered...Oh glory. Then again, I love lentils. And then I got to meet Steve's brother who looks virtually nothing like him, but *sounds* exactly like him. crazy.
Activities. There are famous rose gardens in Portland. Don't go there at night even when people tell you they are "lit up." Not really. You can still have the life affirming "I stopped and smelled the roses" experience and get a nice view of the city, I guess. That takes about 10 minutes. But then you should hie your ass down the hill to Powell's City of Books which is probably Portland's best extracurricular activity. It's not just "childrens", it's elementary and junior high and Newbery award winners and Caldecott award winners and so on. Used and new all intermingling. warm fuzzies. I spent an entire evening in the stacks of various departments. Anyway, I also went shopping *no sales tax in Oregon!* on the NW side on 23rd and went into a few boutiques and Lush and Paper Source. Upon realizing that what my mother said, "that's 10% right off the bat" was true, I did most of my christmas shopping.
Accommodations. The Residence Inn was fine, but it looks like a condo complex and has no elevator, which *blows* when carrying luggage. I said I couldnt stay there if they had non 1st floor units. They did, but beware.
Bicyclists . There are lots of them and they don't care about you and your impaired dusk eyesight, oh wasteful car dweller. again, beware.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Sacramento, terminal A layover...quiet haven of the domestic traveler
Oh Sacramento airport, I didn’t expect this from you, no not at all. I feel sort of blushing and embarrassed and like I need to spend some more time with you and, I don’t know, apologize for assuming you would be as beige and boring as the city you serve. But I am so wrong. Your A terminal is…light and airy. Two ladies have rolled past me in Segways. Your food court shames other food courts. It wasn’t like the usual political race, choosing the best of the unknown and greasy worst. I actually love La Salsa and CPK, while sort of merely enjoying burger king, and quiznos, but I decided to go with the untried Lemongrass which promised fresh Asian cuisine. I chose the spicy Thai noodle soup Ko Sui (or whatever.) It appears that my mouth is a better (though slightly scalded) place for it. I have now burned my tongue ladling your coconut curry broth with big pieces of white meat chicken into my mouth. I am addicted to your flavor and can’t stop even though I know you might hurt me. I feel like I want another layover with you (airport terminal A and soup respectively), get to know you better. I’m actually a little melancholy now that I realize I won’t be able to enjoy you on my return flight from Portland. In more enjoyable news, I have broken out into a light curry-induced sweat and I’m quite pleased about it.
At the same time, fie on you, Cinnabon! You always try to thwart me at every airport driving my scent sensors into flywheels of temptation. You are the devil’s treat. You have taught me to identify with what crack addicts must feel like when they want their next fix. And for months, months! I have been able to be strong and avoid you. And the only way I have been able to accomplish this feat is the knowledge that one of your cinnamon rolls has like 12000 calories. But now, you have made MINI bites. NOOOOOO. No no no, bite size portions of 1000 calories make you irresistible. I am undone.
At the same time, fie on you, Cinnabon! You always try to thwart me at every airport driving my scent sensors into flywheels of temptation. You are the devil’s treat. You have taught me to identify with what crack addicts must feel like when they want their next fix. And for months, months! I have been able to be strong and avoid you. And the only way I have been able to accomplish this feat is the knowledge that one of your cinnamon rolls has like 12000 calories. But now, you have made MINI bites. NOOOOOO. No no no, bite size portions of 1000 calories make you irresistible. I am undone.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
El Paso
I am en route to El Paso. That’s right, El Paso, Texas, the border town to Ciudad Juarez the latter of which is the home of many many murders and a very disturbing trend of dead ladies in shallow graves (or completely untraceable graves.) Looks like a fun week of exploring the Embassy Suites is surely ahead. (later update) The hotel guide said that no trip to El Paso would be complete without a trip to Juarez, but my group of 25 trainees all emphatically stressed that I should not go there and that, in so many words, it could complete all my trips ever in life by resulting in death. So don't trust that El Paso Embassy Suites travel guide, is the short summary. You will however, notice that the golden lights of Juarez are particularly beautiful seen from above on the hills of El paso. Also, re: the Embassy Suites, it was a totally decent hotel, not totally top of the line as far as decor, but has a great high ceilinged atrium where you can watch whatever sporting event is on, and free cocktails from like 530-730 pm!
My flight was delayed but rarely do I find myself in so sunny a mood. Maybe it's the 3 days of exercise last week or the ridiculous amount of space in my seat right now despite being in coach on a completely full flight. By the way, I need to note which aircraft United is using to fly from Denver to San Diego because it is definitely roomier than their typical craft.) I was also pleasantly surprised that despite San Diego being a complete cluster-f of a fog delay, the United staff took a page from Southwest and were actually being jokey and lighthearted versus their usual humorless menopausal vibe.
Does anyone know if seltzer water is as good for you as non-carbonated water? I do prefer it so and I always get that with a lime when flying.
The El Paso airport is surprisingly nice and has a few Mexican restaurants (Carlos and Mickeys is apparently locally famous? My trainees recommended it, but I had already gone to Moe's whcih is also locally famous and suuupper delicious. if you like green chiles the green enchiladas covered with piles of green chiles will be a real delight) and a Starbucks. You don't need to stay out past security to eat at Carlos and Mickeys or get coffee at Starbucks--they have both those and a Pizza Hut after you go through security to the gate area.
My father told me that upon disembarking in El Paso I may want to start crying because it is such a dump of a city. Luckily, past experiences in BFE Louisiana alligator country (aka Marksville) have strengthened me for such a prospect. And actually (updating a few days later) this turns out to not have been the case. I decided to attempt to not mentally check out and just sit in my undies watching football and playing Facebook Scrabble all week, so I looked up some touristy things to do and I actually went out and did them. One night I went on something called the Mission trail and found a bunch of fantastic old churches, one of which is the oldest continually used church in America, The Ysleta Mission(top)—dating back from like 1642. The others, Socorro (middle) and Elizario (bottom) had wonderful architecture. The churches were linked by small towns that might as well just be in the neighboring state of Chihuahua, Mexico. Except marginally safer, I assume. There is an unabashed love of bright jewel toned paints that would be banned by any suburban America HOA and that’s the trail that wends between the missions.
On my way back from the missions I got caught in one of the craziest storms I could ever have imagined. First I came to a stoplight and I thought it was really foggy and then I realized that it was actually sand being blown in such a fury that it made everything in the distance look foggy. The wind was blowing things all over—I found out that two of the public housing developments at the agency I was working with lost their roofs that night! Anyway, then after the windsandstorm, I got caught in a lightning and rain storm that was epically beautiful and hard to drive in. We never get good lightning in San Diego and so I was just on the road watching huge bolts light up the whole sky. It was so beautiful I started applauding in my car. Because I am that person. Sarcastic as hell peppered with childlike wonderment.
Anyway, I also went in search of a famed local establishment called Chico’s Tacos whose tacos are totally weird, and yet completely addictive. They are basically taquitos with piles of cheese, but then you pour this hot, watery, mild salsa on the tacos and it melts the cheese and, I don't know, suddenly elevates to greatness. There are only like 4 Chico's Tacos in El Paso with a very basic menu of tacos, hot dogs, hamburgers and fried. A set of 6 taquitos is 3.86. Highly worthwhile.
Apparently driving 80 miles to see the White Sands National Monument in New Mexico would also be worthwhile, but um, it's closed at night and no you CAN'T see the dunes in the dark. So you should only do this during the day. That may seem obvious to people who have common sense or approach life with a plan, and that is basically not me. Nor is it obvious to a certain dopey Missile Range security guard who urged me to keep going 30 miles to the dunes in the pitch black because "ma'am, they are white, like the lines on the road." yeah, well, even if they are you can't see them from the highway!
My flight was delayed but rarely do I find myself in so sunny a mood. Maybe it's the 3 days of exercise last week or the ridiculous amount of space in my seat right now despite being in coach on a completely full flight. By the way, I need to note which aircraft United is using to fly from Denver to San Diego because it is definitely roomier than their typical craft.) I was also pleasantly surprised that despite San Diego being a complete cluster-f of a fog delay, the United staff took a page from Southwest and were actually being jokey and lighthearted versus their usual humorless menopausal vibe.
Does anyone know if seltzer water is as good for you as non-carbonated water? I do prefer it so and I always get that with a lime when flying.
The El Paso airport is surprisingly nice and has a few Mexican restaurants (Carlos and Mickeys is apparently locally famous? My trainees recommended it, but I had already gone to Moe's whcih is also locally famous and suuupper delicious. if you like green chiles the green enchiladas covered with piles of green chiles will be a real delight) and a Starbucks. You don't need to stay out past security to eat at Carlos and Mickeys or get coffee at Starbucks--they have both those and a Pizza Hut after you go through security to the gate area.
My father told me that upon disembarking in El Paso I may want to start crying because it is such a dump of a city. Luckily, past experiences in BFE Louisiana alligator country (aka Marksville) have strengthened me for such a prospect. And actually (updating a few days later) this turns out to not have been the case. I decided to attempt to not mentally check out and just sit in my undies watching football and playing Facebook Scrabble all week, so I looked up some touristy things to do and I actually went out and did them. One night I went on something called the Mission trail and found a bunch of fantastic old churches, one of which is the oldest continually used church in America, The Ysleta Mission(top)—dating back from like 1642. The others, Socorro (middle) and Elizario (bottom) had wonderful architecture. The churches were linked by small towns that might as well just be in the neighboring state of Chihuahua, Mexico. Except marginally safer, I assume. There is an unabashed love of bright jewel toned paints that would be banned by any suburban America HOA and that’s the trail that wends between the missions.
On my way back from the missions I got caught in one of the craziest storms I could ever have imagined. First I came to a stoplight and I thought it was really foggy and then I realized that it was actually sand being blown in such a fury that it made everything in the distance look foggy. The wind was blowing things all over—I found out that two of the public housing developments at the agency I was working with lost their roofs that night! Anyway, then after the windsandstorm, I got caught in a lightning and rain storm that was epically beautiful and hard to drive in. We never get good lightning in San Diego and so I was just on the road watching huge bolts light up the whole sky. It was so beautiful I started applauding in my car. Because I am that person. Sarcastic as hell peppered with childlike wonderment.
Anyway, I also went in search of a famed local establishment called Chico’s Tacos whose tacos are totally weird, and yet completely addictive. They are basically taquitos with piles of cheese, but then you pour this hot, watery, mild salsa on the tacos and it melts the cheese and, I don't know, suddenly elevates to greatness. There are only like 4 Chico's Tacos in El Paso with a very basic menu of tacos, hot dogs, hamburgers and fried. A set of 6 taquitos is 3.86. Highly worthwhile.
Apparently driving 80 miles to see the White Sands National Monument in New Mexico would also be worthwhile, but um, it's closed at night and no you CAN'T see the dunes in the dark. So you should only do this during the day. That may seem obvious to people who have common sense or approach life with a plan, and that is basically not me. Nor is it obvious to a certain dopey Missile Range security guard who urged me to keep going 30 miles to the dunes in the pitch black because "ma'am, they are white, like the lines on the road." yeah, well, even if they are you can't see them from the highway!
Airport bathrooms
The unexpected enemy of the airport traveler is the bathroom door. It might not be evident, but travel enough and you will curse every architect or designer (or whomever is responsible for designing bathroom doors) who designs a bathroom door that is a) narrow and b) opens to the inside of the stall. Inevitably you are traveling with some sort of luggage. If it is just a large bag, then getting it in a narrow door is annoying. If it is rolling, then manouevering into a narrow stall is more annoying. If you are manouevering your roller case into a stall that is both narrow and the door opens into the stall, you want to cry as you heft your bag closer and closer to the toilet and scoot yourself around the bag and the toilet to close the stall. And scoot everything again when the bathroom door keeps grazing your luggage and not closing. Repeat when finished bathrooming. Sometimes I sit on the toilet for a few extra seconds just to avoid having to get up and do this again. But, ah, the sweet ease of a toilet stall whose door opens outward. Oh sure you have a slight risk of bumping someone as you exit. But who cares? You just rolled your bag and self into the stall with one fell swoop and closed the door around you. *relief* I plan on reporting here the airports who do and do not have said doors, but i need to revisit many of them to be sure :) I know for sure San Diego is an offender, since it is my home airport.
Good:
San Jose
Bad:
San Diego
Chicago O'Hare--but at least you can just wave your hand at the sensor and get a new plastic cover for your toilet and don't have to worry about freaking hoverers and their spillage. ALso, O'Hare has bathrooms that open outward for the disabled. SO someone was thoughtful, but alas for just a moment.
Good:
San Jose
Bad:
San Diego
Chicago O'Hare--but at least you can just wave your hand at the sensor and get a new plastic cover for your toilet and don't have to worry about freaking hoverers and their spillage. ALso, O'Hare has bathrooms that open outward for the disabled. SO someone was thoughtful, but alas for just a moment.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
2 hours in the Denver Airport
After what I think may be at least 10 Denver layovers I am actually just now starting to begrudgingly admit some decent aspects of the Denver Airport. The layout of the airport is sort of terrible. It is basically a long straight line. So, ala Phoenix sky harbor, you might end up taking about 10 moving sidewalks to get to your gate, which is terrible for short layovers. But this is a problem endemic to any hub. Chicago O’Hare is not linear but labyrinthine and have fun getting from gate C to D,E, or F. yet somehow it frustrates me less than the interminably long airports.
Anyway, in the middle of the unending B concourse in Denver is this little cluster of restaurants and stores. Usually shops that aren't food and gift related baffle me. like who is going to buy a Dale Chihuli knockoff while running through an airport? Anyway, one of my recent store finds in Denver is called Bella and is an anti-aging, perfume, and hair product gloryland. I have now spent 2 long layovers lathering myself in anti-aging moisturizers, delightful perfumes, and various high-end makeup products. The girls in the store are pretty hands off so you are pretty well able to test with ease. They have a lot of mid/high end brands like Ren, Skyn, Juice Bar, Murad, and Ahava and some that I can’t remember or pronounce. Many of their skin products are organic and vegan which is fun, but just means you have to smell before you put them on your skin. For instance some expensive greek wild rose moisturizer smelled more like the fertilizer the roses sat in rather than having even a hint of rose. And the last thing you want to do when you are about to spend many hours stationary is have your craptastic smelling skin scent wafting over you. Anyway, now when I know I am going through Denver I make sure to put on no face product or hair product and then I just go to town in there. Of course there is the threat that you will find, oh, say some of the best Lippmann nail colors in history, or a Ren cooling eye gel that is like ocular heaven and will end up spending money. It’s a risk. Another risk: as I write this I have metallic nailpolish drying and my face and hair are like an overmoisturized, shining organic beacon.
In the same little B concourse complex is the Wolfgang Puck upstairs. Now, Wolfgang Puck restaurants have become ubiquitous in airports across the country and it’s always a solid choice though some offer far better selections than others. For instance, I always find a Chicago hot dog more compelling than the menu offerings at the Wolfgang Puck in O’Hare. But anyway, the Wolfgang Puck in Denver has this incredible fresh-off-the-spit rotisserie chicken that you can ask to have paired with a baby greens salad dressed with balsamic vinaigrette and some parmesan or goat cheese on top and it’s like, God in heaven, the best freaking airport meal ever. I keep meaning to try something else and I cannot force myself because the chicken is just glorious and with the acid of the balsamic vinaigrette, just wow. Wow. It also feels healthier than other potential choices (probably due to lack of carbs) though undoubtedly the chicken is smothered with like some kind of fatty crack butter and the salad is in an oil slick. But it *feels* better than other meals especially since the de facto sides for the chicken are all heavily creamy and carby like some delicious looking macaroni and cheese. It just feels better to be like, "no, I want baby greens salad on the side." someone will likely report in the near future that the baby greens salad has more calories than the macaroni and cheese side. Whatever, still totally worth it. Across from there is the caribou coffee whose Americano is perfectly agreeable and whose sugar free caramel syrup is pretty tasty. When I finally try the honey almond latte of fame I will let you know, but I have usually already trucked in with my starbucks from the san diego terminal with its army of filipino baristas, and am too caffeinated for another 3 shots so quickly.
Anyway, in the middle of the unending B concourse in Denver is this little cluster of restaurants and stores. Usually shops that aren't food and gift related baffle me. like who is going to buy a Dale Chihuli knockoff while running through an airport? Anyway, one of my recent store finds in Denver is called Bella and is an anti-aging, perfume, and hair product gloryland. I have now spent 2 long layovers lathering myself in anti-aging moisturizers, delightful perfumes, and various high-end makeup products. The girls in the store are pretty hands off so you are pretty well able to test with ease. They have a lot of mid/high end brands like Ren, Skyn, Juice Bar, Murad, and Ahava and some that I can’t remember or pronounce. Many of their skin products are organic and vegan which is fun, but just means you have to smell before you put them on your skin. For instance some expensive greek wild rose moisturizer smelled more like the fertilizer the roses sat in rather than having even a hint of rose. And the last thing you want to do when you are about to spend many hours stationary is have your craptastic smelling skin scent wafting over you. Anyway, now when I know I am going through Denver I make sure to put on no face product or hair product and then I just go to town in there. Of course there is the threat that you will find, oh, say some of the best Lippmann nail colors in history, or a Ren cooling eye gel that is like ocular heaven and will end up spending money. It’s a risk. Another risk: as I write this I have metallic nailpolish drying and my face and hair are like an overmoisturized, shining organic beacon.
In the same little B concourse complex is the Wolfgang Puck upstairs. Now, Wolfgang Puck restaurants have become ubiquitous in airports across the country and it’s always a solid choice though some offer far better selections than others. For instance, I always find a Chicago hot dog more compelling than the menu offerings at the Wolfgang Puck in O’Hare. But anyway, the Wolfgang Puck in Denver has this incredible fresh-off-the-spit rotisserie chicken that you can ask to have paired with a baby greens salad dressed with balsamic vinaigrette and some parmesan or goat cheese on top and it’s like, God in heaven, the best freaking airport meal ever. I keep meaning to try something else and I cannot force myself because the chicken is just glorious and with the acid of the balsamic vinaigrette, just wow. Wow. It also feels healthier than other potential choices (probably due to lack of carbs) though undoubtedly the chicken is smothered with like some kind of fatty crack butter and the salad is in an oil slick. But it *feels* better than other meals especially since the de facto sides for the chicken are all heavily creamy and carby like some delicious looking macaroni and cheese. It just feels better to be like, "no, I want baby greens salad on the side." someone will likely report in the near future that the baby greens salad has more calories than the macaroni and cheese side. Whatever, still totally worth it. Across from there is the caribou coffee whose Americano is perfectly agreeable and whose sugar free caramel syrup is pretty tasty. When I finally try the honey almond latte of fame I will let you know, but I have usually already trucked in with my starbucks from the san diego terminal with its army of filipino baristas, and am too caffeinated for another 3 shots so quickly.
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