Anthony Bourdain

Anthony Bourdain killed himself yesterday. That’s as bluntly as I can state it. Just like doctors are supposed to be direct when informing someone that their loved one has just passed away, I think it’s best to just say it plainly. Acknowledge it, and then cope with the realities of it in whatever way works for you. Anthony Bourdain is gone and it is a very great loss.

Like many people, I was first exposed to Tony from watching A Cook’s Tour on television and then I went on to buy his book Kitchen Confidential (from an actual bookstore!). I loved that book, not just for the subject matter which was right up my alley, but also because of his writing style. Prior to that, my favorite food-related reads came from a monthly column by Alan Richman in GQ (an actual print publication!). What Bourdain and Richman had in common was a hilarious way of phrasing things, especially when it came to doling out sharp criticism. But Bourdain was so much more irreverent and that added an extra layer of cool. As his television career progressed, it was really his eloquence that made every episode so impactful. Whether it was clever quips during narrative voiceovers or thoughtful reflections at the end of each episode, he really had a knack for finding the perfect words for every scene. They were words that could range from the poetic to the absurd, whatever it took to punctuate a moment as either funny, poignant or profound. Over the years, there were countless times I would rewind a scene just to hear him repeat a particular line and think to myself, “wow, that was just beautiful”. And that’s what made him remarkable- he was perhaps even better at expressing positive things than he was at ripping into people like Sandra Lee or Guy Fieri (and he was very good at that). If the current state of American society is any indication, it’s so much easier to tear things down and insult people. Any insolent hack can do that. But to be able to connect, unite and inspire is a far greater challenge. Bourdain was a master at both.

This morning I pulled up an old blog entry of mine from 2006 when I was clearly already a total Bourdain fanboy. My appreciation of him even back then made me realize some things about my own writing. It’s natural to try and imitate those that you admire, and I think I’ve always wanted to find a writing voice that sounds like Bourdain’s. I am of course miles away from that. Whenever I re-read things I’ve written, the voice I hear coming off the page is often rigid and sterile, void of the color that animates Tony’s writing. Other times the voice sounds whiney, as if pleading for the reader to agree with my point whereas Tony’s style naturally carries a confidence that says “I don’t give a fuck”. But it made me wonder if perhaps every writer doesn’t carry that same self-doubt…and in light of what happened yesterday, it made me wonder what kind of voice Tony heard when he read his own words.

When I first read that Tony had committed suicide, I thought it had to be a hoax. Even after the major news outlets confirmed the story, I still didn’t quite believe it. Maybe there was foul play involved? Maybe a maniacal Trump supporter ambushed him in his hotel? Did Harvey Weinstein send a goon to take him out and frame it as a suicide? Somehow those scenarios seemed more plausible to me than him taking his own life. How could a man who loved his daughter so much do this? A man who had the best job in the world, traveling and eating. A man who was dating the beautiful Asia Argento and by all accounts seemed to be quite happily in love. Plus Tony trained Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, sometimes 7 days a week, so we know he had a fighting spirit. What could possibly make someone with all those things going for him decide to commit suicide? I suppose it could have been something chemical, but it seemed like his days of drug use were well behind him. It just doesn’t make sense.

But ultimately, I’ve decided I won’t do him the disservice of trying to come up with an explanation. It would be wrong, and I mean that in several ways. Wrong in t
hat whatever I come up with isn’t likely to be correct. Wrong in that it would be too simplistic. And ultimately, wrong in that its only real purpose is to provide
closure for myself. Taking something as serious and tragic as suicide and trying to wrap it up in a tidy little explanation just for my own peace of mind would just be narcissistic, so I won’t do that. Let’s all not do that.

Putting aside the unknowable, all that remains is what Anthony Bourdain’s life and death meant to each one of us. The number of heartwarming tributes to him across all forms of media today are overwhelming evidence of just how many lives he touched across so many walks of life. He leaves us with a well-documented legacy in his books, shows, articles, interviews and social media. The common thread running through it all is a humanistic one. Wherever he went he always sought to make real connections with real people. And despite, or maybe because of, his snarky and cynical tendencies, whenever he made those connections, you could sense he was humbled by each and every one and his appreciation ran deep. I hope he knows how much the world appreciated him in return. May he rest in peace.

The Easiest Soup Ever

Broccoli Soup with Spam
About a decade ago, before Gordon Ramsay was a household name here in the U.S. and before every video under the sun was available on Youtube, he had a show in the UK called Gordon Ramsay Makes it Easy. In one episode, he made a simple broccoli soup that really impressed me and it’s a recipe that I’ve revisited on several occasions over the years. The reason it was so impressive is because the soup was basically just 3 ingredients- broccoli, water, and salt, yet the end result was a soup with an elegant flavor and texture you might even call luxurious. It’s simple, delicious and versatile.

To make the soup, start by bringing some water to a boil with a little bit of salt. Drop in the broccoli florets and boil until they’re soft. Scoop them into your blender jar along with some of the cooking liquid. In terms of quantities, about 2 large stalks of broccoli will yield enough florets to fill my blender jar almost full, and for that amount, I would add enough water to go about halfway up the level of the broccoli. Cover the blender, but take the stopper out of the lid and cover with a towel. If you’ve never blended hot liquids before, do not take this step lightly because I don’t care how strong you are, you won’t be able to keep the lid on if the stopper is left in; if you don’t give it an opening to vent it will blow the top off the blender and cover your kitchen with broccoli. Even with the stopper out and a towel over the top, start with a few short pulses just to be safe before you allow it to really whirl. It should take less than 30 seconds to become soup-like. Just check the consistency and if it’s too thick for your taste, add some more of the cooking liquid and whizz it again. Add salt if it needs it, and then you’re done with the basic soup.

While it’s fine as-is, you will almost certainly want to chef it up a bit. Considering it’s basically nothing but the essence of broccoli, I find that it needs a little bit of fat and texture to elevate the satisfaction level and there are many different ways to get there. In Gordon Ramsay’s tv show, he finishes it with a some walnuts and a couple medallions of ash-rolled goat cheese. I’ve made a nice variation topped with fried garlicky bread crumbs. Or if you are insistent on keeping it fat-free, I once made it with toasted sliced almonds and it was really good too. But this weekend, I came up with my new favorite rendition, the one you see pictured at the top of this post. In true chef fashion, I was inspired by the fact that Spam was in season, i.e. on sale at H-Mart, so I decided to go with it. I did a brunoise of Spam (the low-sodium kind) and browned it up in a little olive oil with pimentón (Spanish smoked paprika) for a little smoky accent. And since I was feeling extra ambitious, before I served it, I actually ran the broccoli soup through a fine mesh sieve for an even silkier texture. That’s something I remember reading that they do in the French Laundry kitchen- whenever a liquid gets transferred from one container to another, they strain it through a chinois. It makes a noticeable difference. I was really happy with the end result- a nice color contrast, luxurious mouthfeel from the broccoli, a beautiful scent from the paprika, and of course the savory addictiveness that can only come from a processed meat product!

Taiwanese Mullet Roe

A few months ago I stopped by the Celebrate Taiwan event that was going on in Grand Central Terminal. They were trying to promote Taiwanese music, culture, and of course the food. I was particularly interested in checking out their dried mullet roe. The Italians have bottarga, the Japanese have Karasumi, but I had heard that the Taiwanese version was the best of the bunch. I was not disappointed. It was smoky, earthy and salty, kind of like a hard cheese that tasted of fish jerky. I posted a picture of it on Facebook at the time, and hadn’t really thought about it again until a couple of weeks ago. My old friend and 9-ball mentor Roger had seen my FB picture, happened to be in Taiwan this month, and lo and behold- a box of mullet roe arrived in my mail last week! Quite the unexpected surprise, especially since I probably haven’t seen Rog in about 15 years! I have the greatest friends. Thanks, Rog!

So tonight I decided to try it out. Here’s what the packaging looks like:
Mullet Roe boxMullet Roe package

And here’s what the product looks like when sliced:

Mullet Roe sliced

So what can you do with it? Well, with it’s inherent cheese-like character my first thought was to let funk play with funk, so I put together a riff on a traditional party hors d’oeuvre- bleu cheese crumbles on endive drizzled with white truffled honey and topped with shaved mullet roe:
Mullet Roe endive
This was just ok. This particular mullet roe is actually milder than the much saltier and smokier one I had tasted at the Grand Central event, so in retrospect, using a microplane to grate the roe wasn’t the best choice. The shavings were too fine, so it would have taken heaping mounds of it to stand up to the bleu cheese and white truffle. It was still a treat to eat, but didn’t allow the roe to shine.

Next up, a more traditional pairing with some egg on egg action. I made a chawanmushi by preparing a quick dashi, cooling it, mixed in some beaten eggs and then steamed it in a ramekin. Since I wanted bigger roe flavor this time, I abandoned the microplane and switched to a box grater to get some bigger chunks. This was, if I may say so myself, a great success:
Mullet Roe Chawanmushi

Even though my chawanmushi skills leave much to be desired (there were bubble holes on the surface from cooking too quickly I think), the flavor and texture were spot on, and the mullet roe funk was in full effect. With every spoonful, the custard would cleanse and reset the palate so that the bits of roe could follow up, bringing their intense flavor with full force. Pretty awesome.

Then it was time for something more substantial and so I went with another classic preparation- roe on pasta. Typically of course it would be bottarga on pasta, but essentially it’s the same thing with a different name. Granted bottarga might come from a different type of fish than what they use in Taiwan, but flavor-wise they’re aiming for the same dark, salty, smokey, fishy happy zone. Since I knew my palate was probably getting a bit desensitized from the big flavors in the first two dishes, I decided I needed to ramp things up even more for the finale. I ditched the box grater and just used my pairing knife to shave and dice the roe so I could create even bigger chunks. While the spaghetti was boiling, I decided to go even bolder by frying up some capers. When the pasta was cooked, I drizzled it with olive oil, sprinkled on some truffle salt that Ricky and Kathy gave me as a gift, and tossed it with the capers and mullet roe. With all those good ingredients, I think you can imagine how great this tasted!
Mullet Roe spaghetti

There’s a reason pasta and bottarga are such a classic combo. The neutrality of the pasta adds just enough substance and texture to carry the flavor of the roe so that it can linger on your tongue longer with each forkful. In my rendition, the truffle aroma added an extra dizzying dimension while the fried capers brought a floral counterpoint that helped keep the intense flavors from becoming overwhelming, i.e. it made me want to eat more and more instead of just blowing out my palate in a few bites.

Thanks again to Rog for the surprise gift, and for it giving me the inspiration to get my lazy ass back in the kitchen to cook again!

Elm

It’s been a while since I’ve been impressed enough by a restaurant that I felt compelled to write again, but after several trips up to Connecticut to dine at Elm I have been sufficiently wowed. Located on a quaint downtown street in New Canaan, Elm has a modern but elegantly casual feel to it. My favorite spot to dine is at the counter seats in the back from which you get this view into the open kitchen:
Elm kitchen

It’s a real pleasure to watch the team at Elm work. The kitchen is led by chef/owner Brian Lewis (not in the picture above), who’s food I first encountered way back in 2009 when he was doing a pasta demo at a tasting event. Back then, he was representing Richard Gere’s restaurant, the Farmhouse at Bedford Post (another one of my absolute favorites) where he was the original chef. I was impressed by him then and even more so now. At Elm, he’s assembled a kitchen staff that really cares about what they do. And I know this because I have been there on multiple occasions when Chef Lewis had the night off and I still witnessed the highest level of care and attention to detail under the direction of sous chef Devin Broo. Every plate was wiped of fingerprints with tiny squares of napkin they keep at the ready just for that purpose, almost as meticulous as the way Momofuku Ko wipes down plates using drops of vodka. Seeing the Elm team work reminds me of Paul Newman’s line from The Hustler when he’s describing how any activity can be elevated to greatness, “if a guy knows. If he knows what he’s doing and why and if he can make it come off.” Everyone in that kitchen, including the dishwasher, seems to work with that sense of pride and purpose. The kitchen space itself is spacious and bright, and the team moves about it with a calm efficiency reminiscent of how Charlie Trotters’ kitchen used to hum.

From a kitchen that polished you’d expect the food to be world class, and it certainly is. The ever changing menu is of the farm to table variety but not in an obnoxious crunchier-than-thou sort of way. The printed menu won’t list the provenance of every ingredient on the plate like some restaurants do these days. The descriptions are straightforward, clean and elegant, just like the kitchen. Consider them confidently understated, because without fail when the dishes arrive before you, they are artfully plated masterpieces to behold, and they are even more pleasurable to eat. Take for example this dish of “Glazed Spring Vegetables”:
Elm Glazed Spring Vegetables

It is perhaps the quintessential Elm dish. It treats the incredible ingredients with greatest of care and respect, elevating and accenting them with a rich buttery nage and laced with a drizzle of honey. Every element on that plate was spectacular, especially those baby radishes which were ridiculously juicy. The richness of the dish speaks to Elm’s approach of making things delicious first and foremost. Yes it’s a farm to table restaurant, but they are cooking to satisfy a foodie’s palate, not a hippie’s consciousness. That’s my kind of sensibility.

With this approach there are no cultural boundaries to constrain them. So you may have Japanese flavors of yuzu and ginger mignonette over raw oysters for one app and follow that up with the Thai curry broth in these mussels:
Elm Thai Curry Mussels

And then jump over to France with this, possibly the most brilliantly conceived and executed presentation of foie gras I’ve ever tasted:
Elm Foie Gras

It’s a dish of seared foie with sherry lentil jus, spiced rhubarb, and the kicker- crushed bits of smoked macadamia nuts. Lentils are the perfect element to add substance to each bite of foie because they give you just enough of something to chew while being subtle enough in flavor not to interfere with the star of the show. The rhubarb of course brings the sweetness and acidity you need in any good foie dish. But the eye opener for me was the smoked macadamias. I never knew that foie gras could be elevated by the addition of smoke, but now I do and I will never be the same. It provides you with a hit of smoky pleasure and interest right up front as you take your bite, just before the wave of richness from the foie washes over you as it melts on your tongue. Just an awesome dish. Just an awesome restaurant.

New and Noteworthy: SakaMai

sakamai_eggs_cropped

The anticipation began when I learned that George Kao, who some of you may know from his workshops at the Japanese Culinary Center, was part of a team opening SakaMai, a new sake lounge in the Lower East Side. George is a guy whose palate I really respect, and in fact he was the one who first turned me onto Kajitsu which went on to become one of my favorite restaurants in NYC (until the chef departed for greener pastures earlier this year, but I digress). So as soon as I heard he was involved with SakaMai my expectations were elevated by several notches. And now, after having visited it for the first time I’m pleased to report it lives up to everything I was hoping it would be.

Apparently they’ve had about a week of a soft opening with the official grand opening scheduled for tonight, but since I had been checking OpenTable daily, I lucked into seeing that a bunch of seatings opened up for last night so I grabbed the reservation and called up my skinny friend who can eat a lot to be the perfect partner for properly attacking the menu. Now the downside of most soft openings is that the menu is usually limited and the service is uneven, but at SakaMai, perhaps since this was the final night of a week-long soft opening, I found that the menu had ample selections and the service was actually excellent by any standards.

When you first enter, even before you get to the hostess station there is a rather spacious area with a couple of tables and high stools which are every bit as comfortable as the seats in the main room. The decor is what you’d expect of a higher end sake lounge; think dim lighting and walls of stone/exposed brick with a modern feel. On this night, the hostess station was presided over by two uber-attractive people, I think their names were Yasu and Jess, who were dressed like classy fashionistas while greeting you with a respectful friendliness and sincerity I consider to be very Japanese. It was the first of what would be consistently excellent service across the board, right down to the guy bussing the tables. Beyond the hostess station is the main room which is basically a long single row of tables with comfortable bench seating along the wall side and chairs on the aisle side. But enough about the decor, I know you want to know about the food and bev.

We had a mild-mannered Maboroshi sake by the glass to begin the night. From there we moved on to two tasting flights of three sakes each. The first was three different daiginjo offerings from Dassai, the 23, 39, and 50. The numbers represent the percentage of the rice grain that is left after polishing before they use it to make sake. Typically the lower the number, the cleaner and more subtle the flavor. With these however, I found the 39 to be even fuller in flavor with a bigger finish than even the 50. It was my favorite of the trio. Of the major sake producers, I’ve always found Dassai to be one of the best. Whenever I open a sake menu and am confounded by the number of choices, Dassai is almost always my go-to because I enjoy everything I’ve tasted from them. But this was the first time I’ve ever been able to sample the 23, 39 and 50 all side by side. It’s a solid flight which should suit most everyone’s palates so I hope they keep it on the menu forever. Our second flight was of my favorite style of sake, “nama” or unpasteurized. These were nama-genshu, so they were higher in alcohol. I should point out that our waiter did a fine job of explaining details like that. Of that flight, two of my faves were on there- the Born and an offering from Kikusui (who those that know me well should recognize as the brand that produces the sake-in-a-can which I love so much). I love nama sakes and I hope in the future SakaMai will rotate in flights of seasonal ones so I can continue to explore them, just like I do at one of my other regular haunts, Wasan.

So what to eat with these amazing sakes? We had a wide assortment of small plates and was pleased by all of them. The skate wing chips were like a more elegant version of the spicy dried cuttlefish that I grew up loving. If you opt to drink beer instead of sake, I would say these chips should be your default choice. The trio of oysters were kumamotos and my favorite of the three was of course the one topped with creme fraiche and caviar, but the one with yuzu foam was quite nice as well. The dish of bone marrow with steak tartare gets a thumbs up too, but more so for the bone marrow than the tartare. The bone was split lengthwise, which in my opinion is the only right way to do it because of easier access to the fatty morsels of delight inside. The tartare while well-seasoned, just didn’t seem to have anything that would make you go wow, unlike most of the other things on the menu. One other dish, the pork buns, I thought were just ok too; decent fatty pork, but generally unspectacular especially in a city where you can find a lot of great baos. But what was spectacular was the charwan mushi (savory japanese egg custard). I’ve had a lot of great charwan mushi in my day, with probably my favorites being from Lan which no longer exists, and Dieci, which was opened by the Lan folks. But oftentimes the charwan mushi experience is augmented by things like truffle or mushroom slices adorning the top. That’s kind of like cheating with bacon or butter. Well at SakaMai, there’s no cheating, well not with garnishes anyway. The proof is in the pudding, so to speak. What you get is a little teacup sized serving of nothing other than the custard topped with its dashi gelee. But oh what a custard! Why? Because it is permeated by the unctuous flavor of foie gras. The chef has done it with a very balanced hand such that if you didn’t read the menu, you might not even realize that’s what’s in it. You would only realize it was mysteriously satisfying and over-the-top delicious. It’s the best dish on the menu in my opinion. Visually, though, the stunner was the dish called “Egg on Egg on Egg”, featuring uni and caviar over scrambled eggs, served in an uni shell. Super decadent and it tasted every bit as amazing as it looks. I wonder if they will possibly get the larger and slightly sweeter uni from Santa Barbara for this dish in the future. If they did, I would probably have to change my rankings and give this dish the nod over the charwan mushi, but it would be close.

We rounded out the night lingering over a bottle of the Dassai 39 and ordering a couple more dishes- the kampachi sashimi and the octopus, both nice offerings, but paled in the afterglow of my charwan mushi/uni/caviar eggstacy. I will definitely return and can see this becoming one of my regular weekend destinations. SakaMai officially opens tonight and I think they’re off to a terrific start. I thoroughly enjoyed my first visit and can’t wait to see what pleasures the full menu will have in store for us.

Running

Brooklyn Half Marathon

It’s been quite a while since I’ve blogged! Mainly it’s because so many of my posts were food related and food blogging had just become so overdone. There’s a lot less motivation to write about stuff when everybody and their grandmothers, literally, are writing about the same thing and often doing it poorly. Not a crowd I really want to be identified with if you know what I mean. Besides, I’m always more juiced by activities that still have a sense of subculture about them. 9-ball, cooking, BJJ and poker all were obsessions of mine but each during periods before they became overexposed mainstream clichés. Don’t get me wrong, they all still hold some interest for me, and likewise I’m sure I’ll still write about food from time to time, but only when the mood strikes me. It’ll just be fewer and farther between. Basically, I just hope to never end up on picsofaznstakingpicsoffood.tumblr.com!

So what have I been up to recently? Running! It’s another pastime that is on the upswing but thankfully hasn’t reached critical mass yet. Even though the Brooklyn Half Marathon last week had 16,000 entrants, there was still a sense of community between runners, a feeling that you’re sharing an experience that the rest of the world just doesn’t get. Running seems like a perfect hobby for me. It’s challenging, there’s a measurable way to gauge progress, there are equipment choices I can spend hours deliberating and there’s a vast amount of super interesting things to learn.

I just started running at the end of February, but like with most activities, the greatest amount of progress happens during the early learning stages. When I started, I couldn’t run more than a few blocks and I hated it. Two months later I was able to complete the BK Half, but ok, I still hated it. Hated the actual running/suffering that is. But actually finishing brought a feeling of absolute elation. It’s a lot like how I trained BJJ actually. I didn’t enjoy the actual rolling like others did because for me the focus was always inward- fighting the ever impending onset of fatigue. But the satisfaction of working through that exhaustion to pull off a technique and nail a submission was unparalleled. Chasing that feeling was what kept me motivated and that’s the same thing I feel with running right now.

I’m not a fast runner, as I ran the BK Half with an average pace of 9:57 per mile. According to the NY Road Runners’ stats for the race, that puts me below average for my age group. And btw, big props to NYRR for being kick-ass when it comes to organizing races. It’s so impressive how they can coordinate logistics for races every week with such efficiency. They usually even have the finishing times and stats posted on their website by the time I get home from each race! They also partner with Brightroom Event Photography so that there are usually a few pictures of you taken along the course. It’s not really worth it to buy the pictures because they charge a whopping $25 per photo, but it’s still nice to check out the thumbnails up on their site after each race. Not that I look very good as a runner. My posture and technique is still horribly awkward but I’m trying to improve. It also doesn’t help that I have more of a wrestler’s build than that of a runner. I’d like to think I have a powerful looking trunk, but really I just have a big ass. I got a chance to see my running form in a Brightroom video clip from the Brooklyn Half and it made me think of Predator lumbering through the forest. Clearly I have a lot to work on!

My training for the Brooklyn Half was not very structured. I just ran whenever I wasn’t busy, the weather was decent and my legs weren’t sore. That amounted to about 3 days a week. I was roughly trying to follow a 10 week training schedule I found on the web, but I ended up missing days left and right, so I just settled for trying to do the long run for each week plus a couple of 4 mile days in between. It was going really well up to about week 7 and I even managed an 11 mile training run without getting totally gassed. Unfortunately the last two weeks before the race we had lots of rain and my weekly mileage went waaay down. As a result, I felt I had peaked too soon and entered the race quite a bit undertrained. It’s interesting, looking at my training log I see that I only did a total of 26 hours of running from the day I picked up the hobby to the day of the BK Half. But it doesn’t matter because even though my time wasn’t fast, I managed to finish the race and that was my only goal.

In addition to the joy of finishing a race, one of the things I love best about running is that there are so many cool things that I can research and shop for. So while running doesn’t actually require anything more than a pair of sneakers, that hasn’t prevented me from spending all kinds of money on miscellaneous gear. Heart rate monitor, moisture wicking apparel, foam rollers, compression sleeves, energy gels, nutritional supplements, running books on my Kindle, and the list goes on. I actually just got another pair of sneakers today too, the Saucony Kinvara 3. What can I say, it’s just too much fun to shop for this stuff! And more than anything, it’s just really enjoyable to have a new activity to immerse myself in.

Birthday!

My big birthday weekend started with drinks on Friday night at FriendHouse (the new re-location of FriendHouse that is, in the spot formerly known as Hea). I love their lemon-gin mojitos with Asian plum salt on the rim. A bunch of my friends came out and a good time was had by all. Hing was his usual entertaining self, at one point schooling an uber-polite NYU student in the ways of the Dawg (i.e. being a jerk instead of calling people sir and saying thank you and please). Pure comedy, and loud comedy at that.

It was a fun but relatively mellow night since we needed to get some sleep before our trip to A.C. the next morning. And even though we got up by 8:30 on Saturday, apparently it wasn’t early enough to beat the traffic on the Garden State Parkway. I wonder who the genius was that decided it would be a good idea to do construction on 20 miles of the Parkway in the middle of summer. Fortunately for me, it was my bday and I didn’t have to drive. Kat was an absolute saint, cheerfully doing the whole drive while Ricky was passed out feeling nauseous from the after-effects of FriendHouse.

We finally arrived at our destination, Renault Winery in Egg Harbor. But we weren’t there for the wine, we were there for the golf! Kat had done some research and discovered this course, conveniently just 15 miles from The Borgata. It sounded cool, and it did not disappoint. Really beautiful despite some browned out patches which were to be expected given the heat and lack of rain in the past several weeks. A couple of the holes ran alongside and even through the vineyard! It was a fun course to play and very fair in terms of how penal it was to miss the fairway. While there weren’t many trees, there were thick patches of gnarly grasses which if you hit into, you pretty much have a 50/50 chance of finding and being able to play your way out. The best part in my opinion was the greens, many of which were large, and most of which were multi-tiered. It really forced you to look at the shape of the green before attempting your approach shot or chipping on. I also found the greens to roll perfectly true which made dealing with putting from tier to tier more fun than frustrating. I suppose it helped that I was with some of my closest friends and the weather was perfect, but all told, I’d say it was one of the most enjoyable golf experiences I’ve ever had.

After the round, we rushed right over to The Borgata where we had dinner reservations at Old Homestead. I know I’ve written about it before, but it’s worth restating- I still feel it is one of the best steakhouses around. The steak au poivre is always excellent, and I should know since I’ve probably had it twenty times by now. Twoin ordered the prime rib this time and that was also fantastic. While we’re doling out the superlatives, it should be mentioned that Twoin thought it was the best prime rib he’d ever had and I totally agree. It was about 2 inches thick and had to be about a foot wide, and perfectly medium rare. Juicy and fatty in a good way, with a deliciously salty gentle sear around the outer edge. Man, what a slab of goodness.

After dinner it was blackjack all night and all morning for me. Wild swings in bankroll, but nothing I’m not used to. After riding out a tremendously horrid streak of bad cards, I rode out the storm and managed to go to bed up a few hundred bucks. Then after a little nap, I went back to the tables in the morning to win a bit more. It’s nice to leave The Borgata a winner, especially when they refused to comp me a room on my birthday! But even if I didn’t win money I would still have felt like a winner, thanks to my friends that made the trip to celebrate my birthday. Especially a big thanks to Kat for organizing the whole weekend and for driving through that horrendous traffic jam. It was such a fun time and I can’t wait to play Renault Winery again. Who knew that turning another year older could be so enjoyable?