Text 35604, 97 rader
Skriven 2010-03-09 07:38:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: to a Q party 900
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Detour to a BBQ event.

AS 658 SJC AUS 0855 1415 73G 11C

My uncle, a good sport, drove me to Morgan Hill to catch the
68 bus, which arrived a hair late at about 0515. I got to
Santa Teresa, the light rail terminus in time to catch a
train at around 0530. A smooth ride to Metro/Airport, where
I found myself at the beginning of a 35-min hole between
buses, the longest one in the service schedule, not counting
the 11-5 overnight. Nonetheless, I was at the airport with
a good cushion, especially as security took about 1 min.
Martini Monkey was closed, and there's no club, even a paid
one, in dingy, nasty Terminal C, due to be demolished this
year (the bag claim area is already gone). Internet is free
and apparently airportwide, so that was a consolation.

This Alaska Air flight boarded in this way: first class and
the Alaska superelites; elites and partner elites; and then
the wonderful scrum of "all rows, all passengers." I found
a spot for my carryon fairly close, but some guy in the next
row, arriving a bit late, had to check his bag.

I needed to wake up, so I had a Coke Zero; it was nasty.

A Cougar Mountain oatmeal raisin cinnamon cookie. It was
okay. The name gave me some short-term amusement.

Alaska seems to offer somewhat better recline in coach than
the airlines I tend to fly, either that or my far memory is
faulty. This worked to my disadvantage as the guy in front
reclined as far as possible and then some, bouncing back and
up and coming as close to fracturing my laptop screen as has
ever happened to me. And he kept doing it, too, obliviously.

It seemed to be an okay flight: I took an aisle, owing to my
Lasix issue, and a good thing.

Sheraton Austin Hotel at the Capitol, 701 East 11th Street
and the Barbecue Bus; then a reception for Starwood Golds
and Platinums (I'm a Gold).

I checked in, got a room with a prized highway view, so much
for being gold, and went toward my room to put up my stuff.
The elevator opened, and out stepped my friend Lilli. Any
party with Lilli is a good party. We greeted each other with
hugs and went our ways. I hurried to the room, made sure
everything was okay, and hied myself back downstairs to the
barbecue bus. The first day, though, was Central Market.

Central Market is a bit of a hike out of town, and on the
way there our host Billybob (that's his real birth certificate
name) took great and perverse pleasure in pointing out all the
wonderful places to eat en route - you know, Magnolia Cafe for
breakfast, Fran's Burgers for lunch, and so on, fully cognizant
that we wouldn't have time for any of these places.

On arriving, the impression I got was whoa, I've been here.
As it turns out, I have - the Houston location, where I'd
gone to buy flowers for my hostess at my 40th reunion last
year. It's like a Whole Foods, only Texas-size and with
prices that aren't stupid. And with sampling stations all
over the place. Some of us were expecting Les Halles. It's
not that way.

We split into two groups so as to be manageable and not
disrupt the store too much. One half was to hang at the
cafe part of the store, eating and drinking and causing
havoc while the other toured; then we were to switch places.

The Director of Training, pleasant and knowledgeable, led us
through the store, enjoining us not to sample while on the
tour, as that would bog things down. My friends Bob and
Fran, who came in from New York or Washington , Lilli,
and I, probably the most senior members of this august
group, promptly disobeyed her and went tasting about all
there was to taste. A togarishi-encrusted rare ahi tuna
with seaweed salad was my favorite. I offered some to Lilli,
who I know doesn't eat anything that lives in the water.
She politely (i.e., without tearing my head off) refused.

One of the stations offered a decent Sangiovese and the
fruity and pleasant Butterfield Station Cabernet 08
(California someplace). Good move. We bought a few bottles,
which I believe is the desired result of this activity.

In addition I saw the Peter Lehmann and the Layer Cake
Shiraz 08 at fairly advantageous prices. After some soul-
searching I got a couple bottles of the latter, as it's more
luscious and would make a better Q wine.

We cracked a bottle of the Butterfield at the cafe, with
bread and cheese (a significantly ripe Brie).

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