Text 23721, 84 rader
Skriven 2012-04-14 10:07:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: end feb trip rep 542
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So we'd had our outdoorsy days, and it was time for a culture
day. I give no quarter on museum days, so we Did four completes
and ran through the National Gallery, stopping only for bathroom
breaks. We started at the Freer, where most of the Japanese
screens were off, so we spent most of our time with the porcelains
and the late-19th Americans, especially the Peacock Room, which
I'd not hitherto stopped so long and lovingly in before (usually,
one pokes one's nose in and goes, blue, gold, ah, splendid, bye).

Lilli had not been to the Sackler, with its amazing collection
of Mesopotamian and Chinese art and artifacts, so we wandered
through it for an hour, probably a bit more, actually. Then the
Hirschhorn, whose sculptures are world-class and whose paintings
are, er, interesting. There's late 20th-century art that speaks
to me, and there's late 20th-century art that I think is purest
charlatanry. The Hirschhorn has plenty of examples of both.

Finally, the original Air and Space - many of the gems have been
moved to the Udvar-Hazy building out by Dulles; the exhibition
here is more didactic and less to my taste, as the implications
are set out for you, as for a child (understandable, as the target
audience is pretty young), which is no fun. There are still plenty
of historic and historical craft to look at, and the bustle is
rather stimulating. There is an Imax theater and a planetarium
presentation, both of which cost extra. We did one of the latter,
which was hokey and bordered on the worthless, lured in by the hard
sell of the staff outside, who obviously had to justify their jobs.

As I'd gradually peed out breakfast and was by this time fairly
empty, an early dinner was in order. And as the National Gallery was
between here and a restaurant for which I have a soft spot, Jose
Andres's tapas joint Jaleo, it was impossible to avoid this supreme
collection altogether, though we had but a small window for enjoyment
by this time. We breezed through the Impressionists until closing time
and then headed northward. The restaurant was hopping for Jaleo hour,
when many of the tapas and the house wines are only $4 or so. We got
close to the last seats at the bar; soon the less comfy bar tables
went; and by the time we were ready to leave, there was a line
waiting just to order drinks, even though happy hour prices were
pretty much over.

We started with a sampler of pata negra (pato negro?) cured meats
(this is never on discount, and the plate cost me $25 or 30, or
close to $80 a pound) - the de bellota ham, from a pig that from
its weaning ate nothing but Spanish acorns: this was soft and suave
and very rich, like a prosciutto only a bit more delicate; the
smoked/roast loin of the animal, nice but nothing special; the
ordinary pato negro (pata negra?) ham, from a pig that had eaten
well through its life and had been finished on those acorns; I was
hard pressed to tell the difference and actually found this tastier;
and, for contrast, an ordinary jamon serrano, which was, though still
special, heading back into mere mortal territory. One thing to note
is that Jose Andres has a corner on the American supply of these
pigs, so if you get them elsewhere, you're paying his middleman fee
anyhow. Might as well go to the source. That course provided enough
taste but perhaps not quite enough calories, so I ordered a trio of
starchy tasty classics.

Patatas bravas were the usual thing, garlic roast potatoes drizzled
with a tomato sauce and an aioli; chicken croquettes were infant food
taken up a notch, like pot pie only better; and the chorizo in potato
wrap, which Lilli found charming - essentially Spanish paprika
sausage encased in a potato chip.

Also, I got me a dish of gambas al ajillo that other than using
marinated garlic could have been anyone's gambas al ajillo (except
mine, which are better). Lilli doesn't eat seafood, so I had this
all to myself.

We stayed through several beers and glasses of house wine and
until we couldn't stand any more the laser gazes at the backs of
our heads.

Having had a sizable dose of garlic and shellfish breath that
even lots of cheap house wine couldn't erase, I refrained
from kissing Lilli goodnight and sent her off into the dark
by herself (not so daunting, it's a pretty harmless though
nearly deserted neighborhood at night).

And thus ended a costly but very pleasant adventure.

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