Text 36092, 117 rader
Skriven 2010-03-22 02:07:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: end trip 956
====================
I decided to walk to the Legal C Bar near American security,
and if the regular bartender was there, get a burger and a
drink, and if he wasn't, I'd try Ozone near US Air security
for the same. The regular bartender wasn't there. So Ozone
it was. I ordered a burger rare from the nonnative speaker
of all languages behind the bar. He repeated "burger rare"
- what came was a dry preformed patty, crumbly and not
very good tasting, topped with decent though tough thick-
sliced bacon and a thin thin slice of somewhat moldy Vermont
Cheddar (not asked for). If I hadn't been in a hurry I'd
have sent this back. The side of Parmesan fries wafted a
stench of cheap grana and were Englished by a few leaves of
stale brownish rosemary.

Red Rock Merlot, a $10-a-bottle extravaganza, was by far
the best part of the meal. They charge $10 or so a glass
for it.

When the bill came (I had to ask twice for it), there it
was in black and white - "medium well."

Hey, Todd English, wherever you are, from you I expect good
solid mediocrity, not this abomination stuff.

From the airport to the club is a quick jaunt on the Silver
and Red Lines. I was here to attend a special concert by
the Borromeo Quartet, featuring the famed Gunther doing a
dodecaphonic analysis of his 4th (I think) quartet. We met
him at Bin 26, where as my committee chair Lee defected
to another table, I was the least garlanded person there.
My friend Beth, formerly a food correspondent for the Globe
and the late lamented Gourmet magazine, wanted to try the
rabbit loin "saltimbocca" - but chickened out, as it were,
getting instead some kind of bean soup followed by some
altogether-too-healthy greenery. As a result, I felt honor-
bound to get the rabbit (and, being a gentleman at heart,
feed her a bite or two), which was, well, not as nice as
veal saltimbocca: white meat brined to make it tender and
somewhat slippery, rolled with sage leaves and wrapped in
prosciutto. The too-saltiness warred with the Schiava
(Muri-Gries) from the Trentino, recommended by the wine
steward, so I left it undrunk and asked for sherry instead:
he suggested an Amontillado, but I opted instead for a dry
Oloroso, pleasant, a little acid, nutty, from a house I
didn't catch the name of. A peek at the menu shows that the
Amontillado is $16 for 3 oz, and the Oloroso, which goes
better, was "only" $10. Azita came by to make sure
everything was fine; we sort of fibbed and said yes. To my
shock and surprise, Gunther paid for dinner.

The concert was a big success; even those who don't get off
on twelve-tone seemed to enjoy it - the piece isn't very
aggressive, as its row is relatively tame -, and the
collation afterward included rum-raisin ice cream (which I
didn't have) specially made by Gus from Toscanini's and
lovely almond macaroons from some place in the North End
(which I did).

Stayed in Lee's attic, as there were but 6 hours before
it was time to run off again, and I'm less than eager to
spend gazillions of bucks for a Boston hotel room for
that amount of time.

US2121 BOS LGA 0900 1017 E90 2A
US3623 LGA BWI 1129 1244 CRJ 4F

I got my shady side window. The flights were uneventful.
An hour was profitably spent in the US Airways club in
New York, despite the bartender's being nowhere to be found.

After a data-gathering expedition, back again, jiggety jig,
to play in a big fat performance of Elijah.

US4532 BWI LGA 1200 1306 DH8 4A

BWI: Bateman's +1; Duclaw -1

Okay, I was ready to give Bill Bateman's another shot, as
noplace else was doing well by me with their burgers, but
for some reason they weren't serving anything but breakfast
yet; a friendly bartender pointed me in the direction of
Duclaw, saying that they would certainly make me a burger.
Which, after some consultation between the front of house
and the back of house, happened. Duclaw is new, an outpost
of the small brewpub chain, outside security at the WN area.
It has a full bar, essential for anyone actually flying WN,
and pours a modest assortment of Duclaw brews as well as
alien products. On inquiry, I was told that this isn't
really a Duclaw but rather a franchisee. Ah, well, too sad.
As I still have my type meal in mind from Bowie, I asked
for my burger rare with Misfit chips. "Rare, did you say?"
"Yes." "Okay."

The chips came in riotous profusion - some overdone, some
soggy, but most pretty good and more or less as expected.
The burger bore little resemblance to the ruddy half-pound
beauty that I'm familiar with - it was short and fat, about
6 oz, medium to medium-well, and with the taste of near-
putrefaction evident nonetheless. As I had a plane to catch,
I didn't fuss too much but ate it down with a huge dose of
pepper. I'd wanted a Black Jack stout, which was off; they
substituted the Alchemy, which I like okay but not as much.

Back to the D gates, where my plane was ready to board more
or less according to schedule. Security insignificant. Flight
insignificant.

US2130 LGA BOS 1400 1504 E90 2A

2A is supposedly the best seat on the craft, but I don't like
it, especially northbound in the afternoon. No big thing, as
I have eyeshades and just snoozed through the flight.


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