Canadian Bookender: Day 4

Sun. Nov. 24, 2019:
Port Hawksbury, Nova Scotia to Toronto:

I woke up feeling groggy and sad. The bed was a small comfort, making it harder to get up. I had a few sips of iced coffee left but I would still need coffee. We stopped at a gas station so I too could refuel. We drove to Blue Mountains, NS to see the farm owned by Brent’s great aunt and to see the Presbyterian church. We were also on the lookout for a swimming hole, Brent’s grandpa’s favourite one. It was fun trying to guess which spot it was. We walked into the church but the service was about to begin so it was really awkward, we had walked in looked around and left. We double-backed to where the swimming hole may have been to get a better look. On one side was a pool turning into a river and on the other side of the road it had become a full-on waterfall. It was all very pretty and I was happy to have my camera out. We drove to New Glasgow to visit Brent’s great aunt who couldn’t make it to our wedding. It was so nice to meet her and hear stories about the family and growing up in Nova Scotia.

We still had one more stop before the airport: The Bay of Fundy. I was getting hungry in the car, we hadn’t eaten since lunch the previous day, subsisting solely on cowboy cookies. But we had places to be and things to see. We were scheduled to get to Bay of Fundy at peak low tide. I was worrying because it was already starting to get dark. New Brunswick! We had to drive through Moncton to get around the bay and the river and there weren’t many bridges across. We could see that the tide was low, the muddy banks of the river were exposed.

The visitors centre was closed for the season but there were other cars in the parking lot. We walked over to the lookout points and stared at the ocean floor down below. There was a sign by the Flowerpots lookout that said using the stairs was at your own risk. But the stairs were blocked. How could I use them? I commented on this and the other group there laughed and said: same. One of the guys hopped over the barrier and started down the stairs. We were all ready to follow suit when he shouted that the rest of the stairs had been folded back and you couldn’t make it all the way down. Except there was a lady down there! I wish I had shouted: how did you get down there?! Even still, if we had gone down there, we wouldn’t have had much time. We left 10 minutes before the max cut-off. Plus, I’d been spared a stair climb. And we had to come back again to see it at high tide to get a real sense of it.

We filled up the car and dropped it off. We were returning it after-hours so Brent had to put the keys in a slot on the garage door. It was funny to hear the thunk as they fell to the garage floor, there wasn’t even a box for them to fall into. We tried to order a Lyft or an Uber, the thinking being that it would be faster than a cab. Except both of those are unavailable in Moncton. The cab arrived soon after. The drive was short but so awkward. The cabbie kept saying inappropriate things about people in his town mooching off of welfare and we were both just like uuhhhh. The airport was tiny but at least the Tim Horton’s was full-service and it was in an area with a small bar. I devoured the turkey grilled cheese, leaving barely any crumbs. Brent ordered two beers and pretended one was for me. Little did he realize I might like the one that was made with juice and I ended up having some. But what I really wanted was tea: my beloved apple cinnamon tea. Brent went back for another Pumphouse Brewery beer and this time it came in a bottle. When he asked for the cap the lady gave him two. Just in case I had two fridges. The blueberry beer wasn’t as good as the one that was half juice. It was making me kind of regret having chosen Tide & Boar over Pumphouse on our first night. On the flight I finished Trick Mirror. I made it maybe 10 pages, maybe not even, into Heartburn and I had to quit. It was so dated. So instead I listened to podcasts the whole way home. The guy in the row in front of me had tried to order two beers but his card didn’t go through. The flight attendant offered him the whole can of soda. I sat there eagerly awaiting a whole can of Sprite, no such luck.

 

Canadian Bookender: Day 1

Thurs. Nov. 21, 2019:
Toronto flight to Moncton, New Brunswick:

Our flight wasn’t until 3:15pm, we didn’t have to clear customs and the taxi ride to the airport was covered?! This was my kind of travel. Even with the delay due to construction traffic we made it to the airport in plenty of time. Brent’s business trip to Moncton, New Brunswick had ballooned to an east coast weekender.

The Wendy’s was right behind us at check-in, everything was lining up. Until we crossed over to the other side, not a single Starbucks in sight. I had to settle for Timmie’s which at least was right by the gate. I had a medium tea and chanced upon the brilliant idea to get an extra tea bag, so I had one green tea and one apple cinnamon tea. Genius. It was unbelievable how long one guy near us was talking on his phone. He just would not stop. Instead he switched over to speaker phone. I was one zone ahead of Brent for boarding. I had to get out of there away from that guy. Except he ended up sitting one row in front of me. At least he had stopped talking.

While waiting to board I quickly got bored with my new book The Cheffe, thankfully I had packed a second book and my iPad. I downloaded Nora Ephron’s Heartburn as a backup. I was not in the mood for fiction, but I did need to read one more food-related book. I cracked open Trick Mirror… and then was unable to put it down until we landed. Having just read the intro I was already in the group-chat recommending it to everyone.

My annoyance (PMS?) only got worse once we were all seated. My seatmate had still not arrived. Some guy who seemed like the last one on the plane put stuff in the overhead… and then left. I was not going to do up my seatbelt until the person was seated, except we were taking off soon. Eventually, timed perfectly to when I did my seatbelt that same guy came back. During drink service he asked if they had cream. The flight attendant looked at him confused, thinking the same thing I was: this guy just wants a cup of cream?! Eew. He laughed and so no, obviously he only wants coffee if they have cream. As if it is that different from milk. She asked me if I wanted cookies, pretzels or both. I almost yelled with excitement BOTH! I love Biscoff cookies but pretzels are good too.

It was a really short cab ride to the hotel. On the way to our room we scoped out the spot where tomorrow we would watch the tidal bore. I had pictured us waking up, shuffling to a window, either in our room or in the hallway, and watching it. But we had an exterior room. In the hotel lobby they had a sign saying it would be at 5:30am the next day but Brent had a website that said 6:30. We later found a different website corroborating the hotel time.

We walked over to the Tide & Boar for dinner and drinks. It was one of the two places I had found in my searching of where to eat. The other was the Pumphouse brewery but this place had ciders! So yes, I was a little biased in my choice. We ordered the seafood charcuterie board and umami pork bites. The oysters were in season and as delicious as promised. The little neck clams were pretty good, i got one of the shrimp legs stuck in my teeth momentarily in a not-so-graceful eating of the shrimp. The real standout of the board was somehow the pickled veggies. Who new that fiddleheads and brussels sprouts could be good?! The maple smoked salmon was ok but not as good as the light and airy fish mousse. I had a cider from Fredericton that was strawberry and lime flavoured. Soon Vino joined us and we ordered a boar poutine (what the pub is known for according to You Gotta Eat Here). It was round here I started feeling awful. I don’t know what did me in, but by the time I was scooping some poutine on my plate I felt hot and nauseous. I went to the bathroom and my face and chest were all flushed, my eyes were glassy and bloodshot. It was all so sudden. All I could do to feel better was splash water on my face. I was bloated and so uncomfortable. I couldn’t believe how quickly it all happened. I was really struggling to keep it together. But at this point even just the sight or mention of food was enough to make me feel ill.

I felt a little bit better outside in the cold. It was snowing which was a nice distraction. We walked a few blocks up the main street and then one over. We were in search of Brent’s great-grandma’s two listed addresses from archived documents. The first one turned out to be a bust, it was an empty lot with construction materials. The second one was an even bigger with a giant billboard for condos coming soon. On the walk back I was so bloated I considered unbuttoning my pants. There was a Shoppers Drug Mart across the street but it was past a giant parking lot and I could not stand the thought of walking that far only to find out it was closed. Instead I stealthily unbuttoned the top bottom of my pants under my coat as we walked back to the hotel. All I could think about was a hot shower. Even though it was only 10pm back home, I was ready for sleep.

 

I’ve Got That Thing Golfers Get Except for Titles*

*the yips, I figured it out

It’s getting close to the end of the year, except this time around we actively ranked restaurants soon after our meals instead of waiting until the very end. Who can remember a dinner from almost a year ago? No one, except maybe Proust. That being said, it’s hard to edge out our top three contenders thus far (we are only counting Toronto-based fooding, counting our California trip would just be plain unfair). I had high hopes for Grey Gardens, it was from the lady behind Black Hoof and they had a Michelin-starred chef. We walked right by the place the first time, it had grey grating on the window and legit looked like a closed down storefront. We double-backed and even still once the number was confirmed, questioned if we had the right place? It did fit right in with the Kensington vibe (ironically it was the finest and most expensive dining we’ve ever had in Kensington and the total opposite of the usual fare).

So how did it stack up? Pretty damn well. It was one of the better meals we’ve had, everything was well-balanced and in harmony. They get major bonus points for encouraging sharing.  I initially had my eye on the truffle sausage until i saw the fried maitake, which only caught my fancy after I googled it and found out it was a type of mushroom. And it was served with a mustard dipping sauce? Heck yes! I tried to order the cider they had on tap (such a rarity) alas they were all out. Instead I went with my backup: orange wine. I half expected it to be made of oranges but apparently it referred to contact with the skin grapes.

The mushroom was amazing, so lightly breaded and perfectly deep fried. The mustard dipping sauce was perfect. Up next we had scallops. I am generally not a fan, I will eat them but not always enjoy them. I might be wrong, when done right they are so good. They were thinly sliced and so soft, there was a citrus-y zing to them and a tart crunch from something we could not quite identify? When you had a bite of all three it was amazing. That’s what we were starting to realize over our first bites of the arctic char: all the elements of each dish paired together and created a balance. Everything was on the plate for a reason. It reminded me of another time when we had ordered two different mains but we were served the same sides.  The skin on the char was so slightly crispy, it borderline wasn’t even crispy. I usually kind of ignore the stuff underneath i.e.: the stuff listed in the menu after the main item. Not so with the char, every forkful had a piece of fish and an equal amount of the farro. It was so damn good, even now I am thinking about it and craving it. Our last dish was the skate, you can never go wrong with skate. It might be one of my favourite seafood dishes. The skate was delicious, even if the tamarind was faint. It was so delicate and yet meaty? I was not a fan of the mustard greens, the mushrooms were good but I was reaching the point where I couldn’t eat any more.

We were still hungry for dessert but nothing on the menu caught our eye. Brent pointed out that Little Pebbles Bakery, voted best Japanese dessert, was just around the corner. We ordered a slice of strawberry shortcake, a coconut yuzu tart and a matcha canelle. As soon as we got home, I was barely settled and already had a fork in hand. The yuzu tart was the clear winner. How can you go wrong with that combination? You can’t. It was delicious, the tartness of the yuzu set off by the sweetness of the coconut in a not-too-sweet tart shell. We should have just gotten two of those and left it at that. The strawberry shortcake was OK, I liked the cream but the cake itself was kind of dry. I was surprised to find that the exterior of the canelle was rock hard. I had tried to cut it in half and I struggled. The inside was a soft and spongey cake but it was just a weird little dessert. I ate it first, anticipating it would be the worst of the three based solely on my trying to cut it. Then I took a bite of the cake and the tart to determine who was next.
On the walk back we passed by Eataly again. It was opening day and I had assumed I could casually just go in. My initial plan was to go in the afternoon after yoga. Nope. They didn’t’ open until 5pm. Ok, alright I thought, we’ll go after dinner. Except on the way to dinner we saw a huge line around the block. Surely it would dissipate by the time we came back? Again no. Oh how wrong I was.

EDITOR’S NOTE: I tried to go back on Sunday, surely it would have calmed down? Nope still a line of approx 60 people? Eataly closed down on Monday to rejig after the madness. I have a feeling for my third attempt on Tuesday, it’s gonna happen. It will, you’ll see.

 

Unixpected Gonads*

I went into Alobar expecting the same caliber food as we had experienced at Alo all those years ago. Why would it be any different?

Brent, lover of scallops, ordered the scallop ceviche. I ordered the beef carpaccio. Our server came back almost immediately to let us know that the scallops came with sea urchin. Hence the title. When you got a bite of the beef carpaccio with the arugula and cheese it was delicious. On it’s own it was a bit bland. I did not enjoy the scallops at all, the unexpected gonads ruined them (the world’s most obvious sentence?). For my main I ordered the octopus, again it was heavily reliant on the accouterments. On it’s own it was pretty good, but with a hazelnut it was so so so much better. Brent had the tuna. He tried to convince me that the tomato on the side was good. I fell for it and tried one tiny bite, further adding to my argument that tomatoes are horrible.

So far the drinks had been the best part of dinner. Which is why, even though we had to get up at 2:45am for our flight to Miami the next day, we had a second round. I insisted on having dessert. And it was a good thing I did. Dessert was the best part! We ordered the raspberry mille-feuille and it was everything I dreamed it would be. Except I felt kind of bad, as soon as I dug in with my fork I ruined the beauty. It instantly became a delicious mess of crumbly pastry and raspberry cream, smeared all over the plate as I chased bites.

Alobar was nowhere near as good as Alo and I was really disappointed. The internet had made Alobar out to be this really great place and it kind of fell short of that.

*see? am I not just sooo funny? It was originally supposed to be Unexpected Gonads and that I could take zero credit for, but now I made it funnier because sea urchin= uni

 

FloriDejaVu: Day 3

Fri. Nov. 8, 2019:
Key West, Florida:

The key lime pie from Kermit’s was so good, it was the best one yet (and overall, it is still the best one I’ve ever had). The pie was smooth and creamy and the crust was barely noticeable but in a good way because the crumbs were so buttery, they just blended right in. We had an early wakeup on account of the rescheduled snorkeling trip. It was way too early for me, case in point my notebook: “there was no coffee for milk again” and we were up before the hotel started serving breakfast. Thankfully I had spotted a Dunkin’ Donuts on our way in yesterday and wouldn’t you know it we had to go back that way to get to snorkeling. It was meant to be. I have never been in the States this close to Christmas before, I was tempted to buy a DD donut Christmas ornament or a winter hat but it had a pompom. The gingerbread s’mores flavour was alright, it was a bit too sweet for my liking but they nailed the marshmallow flavour. Our snorkeling trip wasn’t until 9:30am but we had to be there early to sign in and get sorted. I felt naked without my rings on.

There were more people on this trip than the last time we had gone snorkeling which was good, we didn’t have to make small talk. As we sat on the boat in the dock going over the safety procedure it started raining. Luckily, we were under the roof, but some of the others just sat there in the rain instead of either stripping down to their bathing suits OR coming under the roof. It made no sense. It was about a 30-minute boat ride to the first spot off Louee Key. We passed by Palm Island. Brent looked into staying there because they had snorkeling out to the coral reef we were going to, but they still haven’t fully recovered from the hurricane two years ago. I had a mild flash of panic at the thought that we were out in the open ocean with no land in sight, it was unsettling to think there was nothing to swim towards should something awful happen. We didn’t have wetsuits or pool noodles. Instead, in the interest of safety, we had to wear screaming neon yellow vests that could be inflated. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, I really was expecting to have to go back to the boat for a noodle. As always, I had to remind myself that with the snorkel I could breathe with my face in the water. Even still, the first few times I held my breath. Then I would only put my face under for short intervals akin to holding my breath. Even then I was still breathing heavily and having to remind myself to calm down and just breathe normally. All I could hear was my heavy breathing. Adding to my discomfort I couldn’t pee in the ocean.

We also had some scuba divers on our boat and it was neat to look down and see them far below us, much closer to the reef. They scared a school of yellow fish who swam up to the surface and I just floated along with them. It was kind of fun swimming along with them, I had finally gotten used to swimming with the snorkel mask and breathing normally. There were two giant beautiful blue (parrot?) fish pecking at the reef. One fish had a red head and a green body and reminded me of Christmas or a traffic light. It was not a stop-light parrotfish though. Back on the boat waiting for everyone else to come back, we tried to identify what we had seen using laminated cards. It was hard to focus as the boat kept rocking and we were both trying to keep it together and not get sick. I was too tired to go back in. at the second spot everyone was clamoring to one spot but i was too slow to get there in time. I missed seeing a shark! The annoying yoga dad would not shut up about he got “like 40 seconds of shark footage,” as if that is so impressive. Brent got to see it, but he missed out on the eel that the last stragglers saw. He missed out on it because he wasn’t doing so well. I knew he had gotten sick because when I looked over at him, he was suddenly surrounded by fish. Gross yes, but it was also effective. It was cool to see all the fish poking about and the corals were a beautiful shade of deep purple. The coolest part was that at first you could barely see much, but as your eyes adjusted a whole underwater world would appear. The ocean was an incredibly beautiful shade of blue that was unreal. Off in the distance you could see the shallower corals as darker patches of ocean. Towards the end I was kind of just swimming laps, not quite tired enough to risk being on the boat but too tired to swim out too far. Back on the boat I was tired and hungry and trying so, so, SO hard to keep it together.

Back in the shop I purchased the salt & coconut oil scrub I had sampled in the bathroom that morning. Their marketing gimmick paid off. On the way back we stopped at Wendy’s and Publix for lunch. We grabbed spicy chicken nuggets with creamy sriracha dip from Wendy’s and ate them in the parking lot on the way to Publix. The chicken nuggets were so damn good, they need to be a regular thing and made available in Canada, as does the equally good dipping sauce. The selection at this Publix was not as good as the previous one we had been to. They didn’t have the holiday turkey sub but they did have the Miami Dolphins one. I got the Havana Bold which a lot of people said was good. Watching her make it, I realized oh man it was meat heavy: ham, bacon and melted cheese. I added some spinach and lettuce and pickles to try and balance it out. The drink selection was equally paltry, I got a Stella Artois cider and was about to give up when I found two wine spritzers from an aptly named company, Day Drinkin’. To change things up we got a chocolate cake slice with buttercream. There were no wacky Oreos but I did get the Publix brand raspberry iced tea (another internet recommendation).

The sandwich was indeed heavy, but so delicious I could forgive that. Needless to say, I didn’t finish it. That’s ok, it would hold up well for later snacking. The raspberry iced tea was more of a sweet tea. The chocolate cake was a sad pathetic dud, it was hard to believe it was from the same bakery! Our final verdict on Pub Subs: chicken tenders are the best. At first, I was not impressed with the Floyd’s spiked lemonade but the more I drank it the more I liked it (shocker!).

We left earlier this time for the sunset, we had to make a pitstop at CVS for aloe. When Brent had mentioned getting sunscreen for our snorkeling trip i laughed, it’s November I said! Turns out i was wrong and now we both had badly burned backs. I felt bad for laughing earlier. I was also hoping to find the Burt’s Bees Res-Q ointment for my itchy legs but there was no sign of it. They didn’t have any travel-size aloe but it was only $3 and we needed it badly. Brent was wearing his Santa Paws t-shirt and it seemed to be a cat charm. We had met three super cute cats before even getting to CVS. We also passed a couple who were debating whether or not they should go back to the hotel to change first. She was in a thong bikini. She was nowhere near a beach, a boat or a pool.

I joked again about going to Margaritaville and Brent called it lame. Except then he mentioned that he had looked into staying at the Margaritaville resort. What a missed opportunity! We walked out to the pier for the sunset except we arrived at a hotel (?) dock with a giant yacht, not the nice square from yesterday. There was a drunk guy on the yacht yelling at the people on the land down below about how drunk he was that he couldn’t remember who he was. I needed to get away from him, fast. We walked along the waterfront, periodically stopping so I could get a slightly different view of the sunset. We sat down by the busy waterfront. The beauty was periodically interrupted by a terrible singing busker, she really needed something new to do. And a lady talking about her “energies” and how they can be neither created nor destroyed, just repurposed. There were a lot of yachts and sailboats out on the water making for pretty pictures. To complete it, a seaplane flew by as well.

We walked over to Tiki House because apparently tiki bars are a Keys thing. I based this solely on the number of bars I saw on the drive down. Given we were in a tiki bar, I had to order a zombie cocktail. I grabbed a table while Brent went to the bar to order. I could not see him around the pillar, apparently, he was trying to get my attention. I could see why when he arrived. There was a blue flame shooting out the top of my drink. They lit a lime on fire! It seemed a bit dangerous. I took a picture then took a sip, only then realizing I had taken a picture of the backside of the glass. Oops. It was such a popular drink that they had it premixed on tap. I liked the hint of cinnamon. It was also very appropriate as I had listened to an episode of Gastropod about tiki bars and the zombie cocktail a few weeks ago. A lady walked up to us and asked me about my fire drink, I had to explain to her that you first have to blow the flame out and then take a sip. She was not as drunk as the guy dancing by himself, his shorts slowly falling down. We missed it, but it looked like he had been asked to leave the bar.

Up next in our mini bar crawl we went next door to Captain Tony’s, allegedly the original site of Sloppy Joe’s before it was called that, and they also claimed to be Hemingway’s favourite haunt. As if the man could not have two favourite bars?! We ordered at the bar and got a table. This was the strongest but not the sweetest mojito of the trip. The more I drank the more I contemplated taking off my bra and donating it to the bar to add to the decor. The bar was strung with bras overhead. Literally hundreds of them. This bar was more dive-y than tourist-y and I liked it. There was on food menu and they only had two cocktail options: mojito or a rum punch in a 22oz souvenir cup. I joked about one day dying in a house filled with crappy plastic souvenir mugs and the poor soul who would have to clean the place out. I was tempted by the latter, but the size put me off- i still had to make it to dinner. It seemed a little more like a place Hemingway would like, compared to Sloppy Joe’s. All around us people were smoking cigarettes, it was odd given how long it has been illegal back home. The place was filled with drunk baby-boomers. A guy walked in just to use the bathroom. He was wearing a cream coloured linen suit and he could not be more Miami vice if he tried.

We couldn’t cross Duval St because there was a parade of speed-boats. This did not bother me in the least, I was feeling nice and slightly drunk (or loose, if you believe my notebook). We had missed all of the speed-boat races and now we were seeing the end of the parade. Except there were still going to be races that weekend, so why the parade? It made no sense. Plus, the boats were pulled along in trailers on their sides. One of the boats had people on it tossing little bottles of chocolate milk and then the next one was tossing mardi gras beads. We followed along behind as it wrapped up.

We stopped in at Kermit’s so I could get the fancy tin of cookies. I also sampled some of the other key lime products and debated getting the key lime peanuts as a late-night hotel snack but Brent talked me down. We were on our way to dinner after all!

Pepe’s was predominantly known for their key lime pie so our dinner options were wide open. When the server led us to our table, he apologized to a black and white cat that he had disturbed. It was when I turned, I saw that the merchandise featured a cat. This restaurant had its own official cat. I was all for this! Brent had the filet mignon with green beans and one of the best baked potatoes I’ve ever had, so good and salty.  I ordered one of the daily specials: mahi mahi with pink shrimp and lobster sauce. I had coleslaw and corn on the side. Both dishes were excellent. To start I had a rum punch to make up for earlier. The people next to us were some lit baby-boomers. One of the husbands started talking about when he first discovered bourbon, at which point I locked eyes with his wife and we both chuckled. They had the same salt scrub in the bathroom and I was tempted to buy more. We got the key lime pie and my freshly squeezed juice margarita to go. And from here things just started to go sideways. It was a strong margarita. I remember saying something about a dingy taxi resembling a coyote?

We got to Duval St. and it was packed, all the boats were packed in the streets and people were crowding around and drinking. It was like a mild, middle-aged Bourbon St. At this point I was “comfy drunk.” We stopped at KWest to get Brent a walking beer so he could catch up to me. I found peanut butter topped Reese’s peanut butter cups and it was the closest we’ve ever been to finding all peanut butter Reese’s cups! I tore right into it, forgetting that we were in Florida so of course it was a melty mess. It was a king size, so my second one would have to wait until it froze a bit back in the hotel. It was so damn good though that i did periodically consider eating it, even though it would be even messier, having had more time to melt. Passing by the cemetery the usual cat wasn’t there, which made sense, she was probably out hunting.

Back in the room I got into my pyjamas. We alternated watching Planet Earth and Spongebob– as in the exact same shows we had been watching before we left for the sunset hours ago. We put the pie in the fridge, we were still too full from dinner (good thing I hadn’t gotten more snacks). The pie would have to be for breakfast, as was quickly becoming tradition. No complaints here, I was all for it.

 

New Distance Record

Tinuno had been voted best Filipino restaurant, but it may as well have been voted closest ever to our house. If we had gone the correct route it would have been a 7-minute walk. The whole way there I was like WHERE IS THIS PLACE?!

The place was tiny and crammed. Every table was taken and again, we had to wait. We were at least able to place our order ahead of time. We went with the price fixe because it included everything. It took a while for our food to come out, the people beside us were insufferable computer geeks. But I had a can of mango nectar so I was content. I think I may have also been thinking about Halloween candy (at this point I had given in, it was over).

Dinner was a spectacle to behold. A giant pile of rice on a banana leaf on a cutting board. It was covered with grilled whitefish, octopus, okra, crawfish and pork belly. One bite and I was in heaven. This mountain of delicious grilled (authentic as confirmed by Paula and to a lesser extent Brent) cost us each a whopping $15. Were it not so busy I could easily see this being a regular thing, we are for sure going back at least once with Paula & Ryan. I wish they did to go.

 

Skippa

Every time i thought about or we talked about, our upcoming dinner plans at Skippa, I would always hear the restaurant name in my head in the voice of one of the penguins from Madagascar. We arrived on time, it was our table that was late. Turns out the last group was slow and now we had to wait. The restaurant, top 100, was tiny. There was no bar where we could at least have a drink. Instead we waited on two chairs that really did seem to be in the way of the busy restaurant staff. They kept apologizing and saying soon- which honestly just made things worse.

Eventually we were seated. While we had OK views of the prep, most of it was happening to our left so we had to kind of crane our necks. Skippa offered a traditional omakase menu but they also had a-la carte. No thank you, we are here to see the best the chef has got. This was our fourth omakase sushi experience, we were semi-pros at this point and the competition was tough (except Sushi Kaji, it would be really hard to not top them). If your meal starts with a warm cup of sake you know you are in for a treat.
All in all it was a good dinner, not as good as Shoushin or Yasu but still an awesome night out. Dessert, as expected, was barely there. On the walk home I contemplated a box of mini Halloween candy, it was the start of the season and so far I had been good and not given in. I abstained but oh man did the cravings plague me.