Mary Visiting Philly and Bye Greta; Hello Chocolate Miyagi
May 1, 2010
Another great evening with Mary in the City on Friday. We had lots of delicious meat at Chima, the Brazilian style steakhouse. I had much more lamb than beef. Everything was good; my favorite part was the veggie bar. I had hearts of palm, asparagus, artichoke hearts, and roasted peppers. There are a few palate cleansers on the table that get regularly refreshed - mashed potatoes, fried bananas, and polenta fries are the ones I can recall. We enjoyed a nice blush, and ate and talked till we were the last ones seated, I think.
We walked in circles around the city blocks, chatting and looking first for ice cream, then a bathroom, then Fergie's, a favorite pub of mine. We ended up at "fabulous" G Lounge, below Davio's restaurant. It was very fabulous. A lot of bling, some pretentious people, a phenomenally kind bartender, but not enough people overall, and the music was "meh". We finished a bottle of champagne, people watched, met some people, and called it a night.
Saturday I spent the entire day negotiating for a car. Finally, it was nearly 8pm and I was peeling the window decals from my most faithful, beloved Greta the Jetta, and putting them onto a 2010 Nissan Versa hatchback. It took a lot of work, but it was the EXACT car I wanted, for the perfect price. We drove off the lot with 12 miles on it. We stopped by Alm and Stoy's new house for a minute, and I put the first 50 miles on it, heading back to the RAT for Laura's art show.
There were a lot of people milling in the dark outside the RAT by the time I arrived. A guy on a stool plucked the banjo. I looked around while my eyes adjusted to the darknesss, for a familiar face, but didn't see anyone so I headed inside. Carlos and Laura did such a wonderful job hanging the pieces. The spacing was nice, there was a rhythm to the pieces, the sculptures were well-placed, and they labeled the pieces with old-fashioned hand-made label maker tape, instead of placards. The contributions hung on string from nails against the old brick walls of the gallery, and the black tape with white letters stood out, making its own artistic statement.
In one corner, a guy named Joe strummed his guitar over pre-recorded loops, and a two-year old stood on an old Casio keyboard (a Casio sampler), adding another layer of random noise to the pulsing soundscape. From across the gallery, you could feel the soundwaves rippling through the conversations and gently fill the empty spaces.
On Sunday, Steve and I took Nilly to the Strawberry Festival in New Hope. It was about 90 degrees and she was excited to be out and about, but quickly tired in the heat. We picked up a cool map of Paris for my new office (when I get it) and drove to Tabora Farms for lunch. Nilly napped in the car and lazed while we ate a half roasted chicken, baguette, greek salad and broccoli salad, in the hot and humid midday sun. Tabora Farms is quickly becoming my favorite local cornucopia.
The website doesn't even get to the heart of the farms. It looks like a general store, unassuming on the side of Upper Stump Road. Out front, tables full of gardening supplies, terra cotta pots, and plants. Inside, the irresistible aroma of freshly baked bread and sweets. The dinner rolls are always sold out when I come, and the baguettes are not too far behind. The deli has fresh rotisserie chicken, at least five different soups, bbq, and a deli case full of fresh, zesty salads. There is a small grocery section with local vegetables and - best for last - fresh local ice cream. My fave is the lavendar, but the rosemary is a close close second. Yum.
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