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xiphiasSo, I bet at least a few of you are wondering how Lis's fortieth birthday went, and how the bar and wine show went, and how I did in the contest, and what else we did in New York City, and stuff like that.
And, like the subject line says, we had an amazing time, until an eighteen-wheeler smooshed us against a Jersey barrier on a bridge going into the Bronx from Flushing. Now, don't worry, there were absolutely NO injuries on any side, and, in fact, the car is even drivable, even though the left side of the car is kind of shredded. And we have insurance, so we're not worried about repair, and I suspect that the truck will be found 100% at fault, which means that we'll get our deductible back.
The other thing which people might be in suspense about is how I did in the contest. Technically, all I know is that I didn't win, place, or show, since only the winners are announced, and they don't list the ratings of the rest. But, after the judging, we all went up and tasted each other's drinks, and I'm pretty certain that I was right around seventeenth out of seventeen. I'm not saying ANYTHING bad about my own drink, understand -- it was damn good. It's just that the other sixteen were even better.
Before announcing the winners, the judges said that they were very happy with the entire slate of entries, that every single entry showed care, creativity, and skill. That a few of the drinks needed some work, but even those showed promise.
After the presentation of the awards, I did go up and chat with the judges to ask how I could improve. They said that they really did like the simplicity and classic nature of my drink, but they felt that the ginger liqueur dominated, it was a little out of balance, and it didn't showcase the cognac as well as it would have to in order to be a significant contender. They also said that, nonetheless, they had enjoyed it.
So, how did I do? A lot of your are writers, so let me give you this analogy: on my very first submission to a major market, I got back a rejection slip with a handwritten note saying that there was a lot to like in the submission, here's how to improve the story, and they hope I submit again.
I consider that a success.
Let me now jump back in time a bit to go chronologically, to summarize the rest of the weekend.
On Saturday, I went to the Leftons' beginning-of-summer-party, for a couple of hours, where I practiced making the drink, making variations, and getting opinions on how it was turning out. That evening, I went to the "Gala" for Theater@First's production of "The Margaret Ghost", where I handled the beverages. The UU Church in Belmont, which is the venue for the play, wanted to have someone ServSafe or TIPS certified if there was going to be wine, so I was happy to do that.
On Sunday, we packed and drove to New York City, for the contest, and, more importantly, for Lis's fortieth birthday. Even though we left at ten, we somehow didn't get to NYC until four; our original plan was to get to NYC much earlier to spend more time at the Wine and Bar Show, whose hours were 12 to 6. As it turned out, we only got there at five, which gave us an hour to see the place, and see what was there. It was good enough, but more time would have been better.
After the show, on the way back to the hotel, we grabbed food from a street vendor. I got a felafel over rice; Lis wanted to get a knish, but it was hot enough out that none of the vendors were stocking them (they're pre-cooked, so they can spoil), so we went into an indoor deli to get one. My felafel was AMAZING; Lis's knish was pretty good.
Then we went to see Avenue Q, which we've never seen before. We had quite a good time. After that, I wasn't hungry because I'd had a decent meal, but Lis had only had an okay knish, so we found a Chinese restaurant and went in and had some mediocre but edible dumplings and soup, and then went back to the hotel and to sleep.
The next morning, we went out to one of the really great liquor stores that had a number of rare liquors and liqueurs that we'd been wanting, and spent enough money that I'm not telling you how much. And shmoozed with the owners. They gave me a 10% "we think you're a neat person" discount, and shipped the box of booze to our hotel. I also bought a couple spare bottles of the booze I needed for the competition, in case I ran out.
Then we went off to the Javits Center, where the convention was. We got there a bit before they opened, and they sent me in to talk to the woman running the competition, and I dropped off my tools, and met a couple of the other competitors, and learned a bit about how the contest would go, and how the judging would work. We got numbers based on the order in which we showed up. Number One would set up on table #1. Number 2 would set up on the other table. When the contest started, Contestant #1 would have six minutes to make three instances of their drink, which would then be taken behind a curtain to where the judges were, who would taste the drink, and rate it on a number of factors, including taste, appearance/presentation, originality, and so forth. Significant points would be docked for going over the six minutes, although it wasn't a disqualification. Still, if you're working a bar and can't turn the drink around fast, it's kind of a bad thing . . .
After that, Contestant #2 would do the same thing, while Contestant #1 cleaned up and turned the table over to #3. By swapping off that way, we could clean up and set up while the other table was being used, which would make things flow faster.
I was Contestant #5.
So the bartenders who needed to do the sorts of prep work that would be done pre-shift went over to the side tables that were set up to start all that prep work. My drink was one of only a few that was so simple that I needed no such prep. My drink was, in fact, the simplest in the contest, by a whole lot. That is, of course, not a bad thing, but it helps explain why all the other drinks had more complexity and depth -- they had a lot more things in them all playing off one another. Simplicity can be a virtue, but when you're making a three or four ingredient drink, you need to get the balance of those ingredients exactly right, and I only came close. Close enough to make a darned good drink, but not close enough to be better than the ones which were playing with more flavors.
How complex did they get? The Crispy Apple involved both a stick blender and a creme brulee torch. One of the drinks was garnished with a kumquat, kiwi, pineapple, and about four other fruits, carefully carved into beautiful shapes and put on toothpicks. (The bartender was able to do this all ahead, so it didn't count against his six minutes.) Another was served in cups made of chocolate and white chocolate swirled together -- made at home, so, again, not counted against the six minutes. The very first cocktail made involved about twelve ingredients -- and some of those were infusions and mixes that she'd made ahead. And, even with that, she made her three drinks well within the six-minute time limit.
I noticed that I was the only contestant who actually talked to the audience, and to the presenter, while I was making my drinks. You are, of course, allowed to talk, but your presentation doesn't affect judging -- the judges are behind the curtain, and not listening to you. They judge only on the final product, not the show that you put on while making it. Nonetheless, while I was the only person to talk, every bartender in the contest moved elegantly and efficiently, and was therefore a joy to watch. Even bartenders who don't do flair, or don't do a lot of conversation with their guests are nonetheless aware that they are "on stage", as it were, and know that just doing their job well can be beautiful in itself.
Obviously, I stayed for the whole contest. I could have wandered off to go to the rest of the show, but I wanted to see what everyone else was doing. Not to scope out the competition, but rather to learn what sorts of things other people did, and how, in order to learn new tricks and techniques and ideas.
And to schmooze with people, because I like schmoozing. I spent a lot of time talking to a couple people who turned out to be pagan-influenced Orthodox Jewish geeks from Teaneck, NJ. Because, let's face it, we geeks tend to gravitate toward each other.
As the judges finished judging each drink, they sent one of them out to the front, to put together a table with all the drinks next to one another. As you can expect, said table was gorgeous. All of our drinks looked wonderful. Again, mine was the simplest -- I didn't do much with garnish, and I used a simple martini-style glass. Mine looked really good, and it went up from there.
Once the contest was over, and while we were waiting for the judges to tally up their scores and talk a little bit to make sure that they didn't make any egregious errors, we seventeen bartenders all went up to that table with straws to taste every single drink. Not to scope out the competition so much as simply because we wanted to know, because everything looked so good. Bartenders are, on the whole, social people, and want to complement each other, and support one another. Yes, we were competing against each other, and for a very significant prize of two thousand dollars -- but we also genuinely were wishing each other well, and enjoying the work that each of us did.
Anyway, the winners were, in third place, a banana-based drink called the "Curious George", in second place, a complex and elegant drink called the "French Slipper", and the overall winner was a drink based on strawberries muddled with chocolate and cognac, called "Strawberry Mud." The recipes for everything we came up with will be posted in a few days, or weeks, or whatever, and when they are, I'll let you all know.
Other than that, at the show, I got to taste lots of neat liqueurs, I met a close-up magician who worked in bars and was advertising his services as a way to bring in more customers on slow nights, I talked to some insurance brokers about per-event insurance, which is something that I want to get set up so I can do more individual events on my own, without working through agencies, and I learned about some Japanese wines and spirits.
Of course, I know about sake, but I was unfamiliar with the Japanese indigenous grape, Koshu. Apparently, they've only recently been working on using it to create world-class wines, and I think it's got real potential. I had both an off-dry (which means, pretty sweet, actually, but not dessert level), and a fairly dry wine made out of the grape. I found it very drinkable, but with unusual flavors I'd not gotten from other varietals. It has unique characteristics, the way that Reisling has unique characteristics -- there are things in Koshu that are distinct and unique.
I also tried shoju, and talked to the distillers about it. Which took a little bit of time and handwaving, since, first, they only spoke a little English and I don't speak any Japanese, and second, I don't ever spit at tastings, even though I should, so I was a bit buzzed.
Shoju is, technically, a whiskey, malted and distilled. It's then aged only six months, in steel. So there is no wood characteristic, and no color. It looks like vodka.
It can be made from barley, rice, or sweet potato.
The thing is -- an unaged whiskey -- and six months in steel may as well be "unaged" -- ought to be raw and harsh, and shoju isn't. The trick is that, for barley and rice, it's polished the way that sake rice is, removing all the harsh bits, and ending up with a smooth, fruity product.
Lis cut out in the middle of the show to go off to the National Archives branch nearby to check on a couple records on her own family's immigration. And then, that evening, we went out to dinner for her fortieth birthday.
The restaurant we chose was Morimoto, run by Iron Chef Maharasu Morimoto. We ordered their omikase menu. And it was excellent.
Still, I think we were very slightly disappointed in that their omikase was, basically, a pre-set, standard tasting menu. When we were ordering, the waiter told us what dishes we would get, and gave us choices between two main courses, and so forth. To me, that's not an omikase. When we go out and order "chef's choice", we're usually expecting the chef to make stuff up. Sure, various chefs have favorite go-to dishes, but the idea of having a pre-planned omikase seemed . . . weird. When we go to Craige Street Bistrot, for instance, and get Chef's Table, Chef Tony Maws basically looks into the pantry, sees what looks good, and makes up stuff based on it. He's got signature dishes and techniques, but what you get is what he feels like cooking.
We are also used to restaurants where the chef is acutally THERE. Of course the chef isn't cooking everything, but we're used to the chef checking every plating before it goes out. Obviously, with Morimoto being a huge celebrity, he'd not be in his restaurant on a Monday night -- he's probably in Los Angeles or something. And we realized that that disappointed us. We're used to going places where the chef is actually THERE, even if he or she is mainly overseeing things, rather than directly cooking.
Nonetheless, the food WAS quite good and we quite enjoyed ourselves.
On Tuesday, we did the other major thing we went to New York to do. We went to the New York Spa Castle.
Lis read about it a while back, in an article that described it as a cross between a day spa and a water park. It's a variation of a Korean bath house. There are single-sex areas, but most of the place is for everyone.
Each of the single-sex areas includes lockers and showers -- both stand-up showers and the more Asian-style ones where you've got a stool and a hand-held shower hose. And they also have a steam room, where the steam is tea-scented, a sauna, and a series of pools, with hot water, warm water, lukewarm water, and chilled water, as well as a pool with jacuzzi jets that are designed to hit acupressure points. The bath areas are single-sex, and naked, but when you go upstairs from the single-sex areas, you're required to wear the provided uniform.
See, when you go into the place, you're provided with a little bracelet-thing that is shaped like a little wristwatch. It has a number on it, and inside is an RFID. The RFID is the key to a locker -- actually, two lockers. The first locker is the one for your shoes. Once you're barefood, they give you the uniform, which is a t-shirt and loose-fitting shorts. You strip, and put your clothing in your locker in the second bank of lockers, and, if you're staying in the single-sex area for a while, you leave your uniform in there, too. Once you're ready to go into the rest of the area, you put on your uniform.
Since your key is a wristwatch, you don't need to carry anything with you. Conveniently, and evilly, it's also keyed to the credit card you signed in with.
So, you walk upstairs wearing your t-shirt and shorts, and this second floor has a few different areas. It's the main social area, with tables and chairs -- because a bath house is a social center. So the place with the tables and chairs is one of the places you can just hang out and talk to people. There is another area where you can either get a shiatsu massage in a public room, or a Swedish or deep-tissue massage in a private room. I believe the room for manicures and pedicures is on that floor, too. And they've got a sleeping area -- which is just a floor. But it's a HEATED floor on one half, and a CHILLED floor on the other, with those little carved wooden head pillows, and it's surprisingly comfy. And a snack bar, where you can get frozen yogurt, sushi, hamburgers, spaghetti, and various other things like that.
But the main part of that floor is the seven themed saunas. Well, six saunas and an ice room.
The saunas are all at different temperatures, and all have different things about them with different health benefits. Well, which CLAIM to have different health benefits in weird New-Agey ways.
I wasn't impressed by the LED sauna, which allows you to shine different colors of lights on you while you shvitz. But I have to say, even if you don't believe that gold creates vibrations with nifty health effects, lying in a sauna that's tiled in gold is a truly unique experience. I felt like I was a Mayan prince or something like that.
There's a sauna lined in jade, one with blocks of mineral salts, one that has "far infrared" lights, which I have no idea what they are, and the largest and hottest one.
Up a flight is the mezzanine level, where you can get hand and foot reflexology massage, or sit in their bank of really comfy loungy-chairs, each of which has a little TV attached to it.
Upstairs from THAT are their "bade pools". These are outdoor pools -- for these, you need to have brought, or to rent, a swimsuit -- which have various jets in them.
You can also rent inner tubes to float around in, for the kids.
Oh, did I mention the kids? The thing which SOME people don't like about this place, but I LOVE is that it's for families. There are infants, toddlers, elementary school kids, teenagers, young adults, middle aged people, elderly, everything. You're hanging out in the ice room, and a couple eight-year-olds run in, and yelp because it's cold, and then run off to sit in the sauna to warm up. Parts of the bade pools are designed to be fun to shoot around in an inner tube.
It doesn't have "kiddie activities" -- it just assumes that your average kid will enjoy hanging out in out with their friends in a nifty environment, and it gives them a safe place to just, y'know, hang out with people, without having their parents looking over their shoulder every instant, but nonetheless always being safe around people. Not ALL the activities are kid-appropriate -- there's also a bar on that floor.
The top floor has another bar and restaurant, and more seating area. It's a counter-service Korean restaurant, with things like buckwheat noodles, and bibimbap. Also a workout room, but that's an extra five bucks.
Unless you're a member. It's a $35 entry, but you can also get a yearly membership. If we lived in Flushing, Lis says that we'd have a membership. It's the same price as a gym membership, but you get all that other stuff, too.
It really acts like a communal living room.
In our ongoing habit of doing romantic things during non-romantic times (our honeymoon was in a cabin in the woods of New Hampshire -- during Bike Week), we discovered that yesterday was the Nigeria/South Korea game. And, yes, this Korean spa DOES serve a largely Korean population. (Also, Russians, Chassids, and other groups who live in the neighborhood, too. The Chassids, of course, rarely go into the mixed-sex areas, but are quite happy to use the single-sex baths with everybody.)
As you might expect, watching a World Cup game with several hundred fans is a lot of fun.
Besides using the saunas and baths, I also got a deep-tissue massage; Lis got a Korean exfoliation, which she said was great.
And then we headed home. The Bronx-Whitestone bridge was down to two lanes because of construction, so, when the eighteen-wheeler in the left lane decided to merge into the right lane, right through us, there wasn't really anywhere we could go. We were smooshed right up into the Jersey barrier and dragged for a bit.
It wasn't actually all that scary. It was pretty darned clear to me that there wasn't much I could do about it, and that the passenger compartment of the car was not going to be breached, and that there wasn't anything in front of us that we were going to hit.
The driver, of course, noticed pretty fast that he'd hit us, and pulled over in front of us.
The most impressive damage was to the left side of the car where the truck hit. The spinning wheel of the truck ripped a circular hole in the back door, and shredded the back left tire.
The right side is merely scraped up, having been dragged along the Jersey barrier.
The car was drivable enough to get it past the toll plaza and out of the way of traffic. Did you know that, even if your car has been ripped to all heck, you STILL need to pay the toll at the toll booth? It's true!
Anyway, we dealt with the police reports and insurance and all that, and the tow truck towed us to a place that sold tires. We bought two tires -- to replace the one that was ripped to heck, and also to replace the other back tire, which was still holding together, but had a tear most of the way through it from where it had been dragged against the wall. They also banged the rim most of the way back into something approximating shape, enough to get us home until it could be ACTUALLY fixed.
With those, we managed to drive back home, and got home by eleven last night. The cats were very happy to see us.
And that was Lis's birthday weekend!
And, like the subject line says, we had an amazing time, until an eighteen-wheeler smooshed us against a Jersey barrier on a bridge going into the Bronx from Flushing. Now, don't worry, there were absolutely NO injuries on any side, and, in fact, the car is even drivable, even though the left side of the car is kind of shredded. And we have insurance, so we're not worried about repair, and I suspect that the truck will be found 100% at fault, which means that we'll get our deductible back.
The other thing which people might be in suspense about is how I did in the contest. Technically, all I know is that I didn't win, place, or show, since only the winners are announced, and they don't list the ratings of the rest. But, after the judging, we all went up and tasted each other's drinks, and I'm pretty certain that I was right around seventeenth out of seventeen. I'm not saying ANYTHING bad about my own drink, understand -- it was damn good. It's just that the other sixteen were even better.
Before announcing the winners, the judges said that they were very happy with the entire slate of entries, that every single entry showed care, creativity, and skill. That a few of the drinks needed some work, but even those showed promise.
After the presentation of the awards, I did go up and chat with the judges to ask how I could improve. They said that they really did like the simplicity and classic nature of my drink, but they felt that the ginger liqueur dominated, it was a little out of balance, and it didn't showcase the cognac as well as it would have to in order to be a significant contender. They also said that, nonetheless, they had enjoyed it.
So, how did I do? A lot of your are writers, so let me give you this analogy: on my very first submission to a major market, I got back a rejection slip with a handwritten note saying that there was a lot to like in the submission, here's how to improve the story, and they hope I submit again.
I consider that a success.
Let me now jump back in time a bit to go chronologically, to summarize the rest of the weekend.
On Saturday, I went to the Leftons' beginning-of-summer-party, for a couple of hours, where I practiced making the drink, making variations, and getting opinions on how it was turning out. That evening, I went to the "Gala" for Theater@First's production of "The Margaret Ghost", where I handled the beverages. The UU Church in Belmont, which is the venue for the play, wanted to have someone ServSafe or TIPS certified if there was going to be wine, so I was happy to do that.
On Sunday, we packed and drove to New York City, for the contest, and, more importantly, for Lis's fortieth birthday. Even though we left at ten, we somehow didn't get to NYC until four; our original plan was to get to NYC much earlier to spend more time at the Wine and Bar Show, whose hours were 12 to 6. As it turned out, we only got there at five, which gave us an hour to see the place, and see what was there. It was good enough, but more time would have been better.
After the show, on the way back to the hotel, we grabbed food from a street vendor. I got a felafel over rice; Lis wanted to get a knish, but it was hot enough out that none of the vendors were stocking them (they're pre-cooked, so they can spoil), so we went into an indoor deli to get one. My felafel was AMAZING; Lis's knish was pretty good.
Then we went to see Avenue Q, which we've never seen before. We had quite a good time. After that, I wasn't hungry because I'd had a decent meal, but Lis had only had an okay knish, so we found a Chinese restaurant and went in and had some mediocre but edible dumplings and soup, and then went back to the hotel and to sleep.
The next morning, we went out to one of the really great liquor stores that had a number of rare liquors and liqueurs that we'd been wanting, and spent enough money that I'm not telling you how much. And shmoozed with the owners. They gave me a 10% "we think you're a neat person" discount, and shipped the box of booze to our hotel. I also bought a couple spare bottles of the booze I needed for the competition, in case I ran out.
Then we went off to the Javits Center, where the convention was. We got there a bit before they opened, and they sent me in to talk to the woman running the competition, and I dropped off my tools, and met a couple of the other competitors, and learned a bit about how the contest would go, and how the judging would work. We got numbers based on the order in which we showed up. Number One would set up on table #1. Number 2 would set up on the other table. When the contest started, Contestant #1 would have six minutes to make three instances of their drink, which would then be taken behind a curtain to where the judges were, who would taste the drink, and rate it on a number of factors, including taste, appearance/presentation, originality, and so forth. Significant points would be docked for going over the six minutes, although it wasn't a disqualification. Still, if you're working a bar and can't turn the drink around fast, it's kind of a bad thing . . .
After that, Contestant #2 would do the same thing, while Contestant #1 cleaned up and turned the table over to #3. By swapping off that way, we could clean up and set up while the other table was being used, which would make things flow faster.
I was Contestant #5.
So the bartenders who needed to do the sorts of prep work that would be done pre-shift went over to the side tables that were set up to start all that prep work. My drink was one of only a few that was so simple that I needed no such prep. My drink was, in fact, the simplest in the contest, by a whole lot. That is, of course, not a bad thing, but it helps explain why all the other drinks had more complexity and depth -- they had a lot more things in them all playing off one another. Simplicity can be a virtue, but when you're making a three or four ingredient drink, you need to get the balance of those ingredients exactly right, and I only came close. Close enough to make a darned good drink, but not close enough to be better than the ones which were playing with more flavors.
How complex did they get? The Crispy Apple involved both a stick blender and a creme brulee torch. One of the drinks was garnished with a kumquat, kiwi, pineapple, and about four other fruits, carefully carved into beautiful shapes and put on toothpicks. (The bartender was able to do this all ahead, so it didn't count against his six minutes.) Another was served in cups made of chocolate and white chocolate swirled together -- made at home, so, again, not counted against the six minutes. The very first cocktail made involved about twelve ingredients -- and some of those were infusions and mixes that she'd made ahead. And, even with that, she made her three drinks well within the six-minute time limit.
I noticed that I was the only contestant who actually talked to the audience, and to the presenter, while I was making my drinks. You are, of course, allowed to talk, but your presentation doesn't affect judging -- the judges are behind the curtain, and not listening to you. They judge only on the final product, not the show that you put on while making it. Nonetheless, while I was the only person to talk, every bartender in the contest moved elegantly and efficiently, and was therefore a joy to watch. Even bartenders who don't do flair, or don't do a lot of conversation with their guests are nonetheless aware that they are "on stage", as it were, and know that just doing their job well can be beautiful in itself.
Obviously, I stayed for the whole contest. I could have wandered off to go to the rest of the show, but I wanted to see what everyone else was doing. Not to scope out the competition, but rather to learn what sorts of things other people did, and how, in order to learn new tricks and techniques and ideas.
And to schmooze with people, because I like schmoozing. I spent a lot of time talking to a couple people who turned out to be pagan-influenced Orthodox Jewish geeks from Teaneck, NJ. Because, let's face it, we geeks tend to gravitate toward each other.
As the judges finished judging each drink, they sent one of them out to the front, to put together a table with all the drinks next to one another. As you can expect, said table was gorgeous. All of our drinks looked wonderful. Again, mine was the simplest -- I didn't do much with garnish, and I used a simple martini-style glass. Mine looked really good, and it went up from there.
Once the contest was over, and while we were waiting for the judges to tally up their scores and talk a little bit to make sure that they didn't make any egregious errors, we seventeen bartenders all went up to that table with straws to taste every single drink. Not to scope out the competition so much as simply because we wanted to know, because everything looked so good. Bartenders are, on the whole, social people, and want to complement each other, and support one another. Yes, we were competing against each other, and for a very significant prize of two thousand dollars -- but we also genuinely were wishing each other well, and enjoying the work that each of us did.
Anyway, the winners were, in third place, a banana-based drink called the "Curious George", in second place, a complex and elegant drink called the "French Slipper", and the overall winner was a drink based on strawberries muddled with chocolate and cognac, called "Strawberry Mud." The recipes for everything we came up with will be posted in a few days, or weeks, or whatever, and when they are, I'll let you all know.
Other than that, at the show, I got to taste lots of neat liqueurs, I met a close-up magician who worked in bars and was advertising his services as a way to bring in more customers on slow nights, I talked to some insurance brokers about per-event insurance, which is something that I want to get set up so I can do more individual events on my own, without working through agencies, and I learned about some Japanese wines and spirits.
Of course, I know about sake, but I was unfamiliar with the Japanese indigenous grape, Koshu. Apparently, they've only recently been working on using it to create world-class wines, and I think it's got real potential. I had both an off-dry (which means, pretty sweet, actually, but not dessert level), and a fairly dry wine made out of the grape. I found it very drinkable, but with unusual flavors I'd not gotten from other varietals. It has unique characteristics, the way that Reisling has unique characteristics -- there are things in Koshu that are distinct and unique.
I also tried shoju, and talked to the distillers about it. Which took a little bit of time and handwaving, since, first, they only spoke a little English and I don't speak any Japanese, and second, I don't ever spit at tastings, even though I should, so I was a bit buzzed.
Shoju is, technically, a whiskey, malted and distilled. It's then aged only six months, in steel. So there is no wood characteristic, and no color. It looks like vodka.
It can be made from barley, rice, or sweet potato.
The thing is -- an unaged whiskey -- and six months in steel may as well be "unaged" -- ought to be raw and harsh, and shoju isn't. The trick is that, for barley and rice, it's polished the way that sake rice is, removing all the harsh bits, and ending up with a smooth, fruity product.
Lis cut out in the middle of the show to go off to the National Archives branch nearby to check on a couple records on her own family's immigration. And then, that evening, we went out to dinner for her fortieth birthday.
The restaurant we chose was Morimoto, run by Iron Chef Maharasu Morimoto. We ordered their omikase menu. And it was excellent.
Still, I think we were very slightly disappointed in that their omikase was, basically, a pre-set, standard tasting menu. When we were ordering, the waiter told us what dishes we would get, and gave us choices between two main courses, and so forth. To me, that's not an omikase. When we go out and order "chef's choice", we're usually expecting the chef to make stuff up. Sure, various chefs have favorite go-to dishes, but the idea of having a pre-planned omikase seemed . . . weird. When we go to Craige Street Bistrot, for instance, and get Chef's Table, Chef Tony Maws basically looks into the pantry, sees what looks good, and makes up stuff based on it. He's got signature dishes and techniques, but what you get is what he feels like cooking.
We are also used to restaurants where the chef is acutally THERE. Of course the chef isn't cooking everything, but we're used to the chef checking every plating before it goes out. Obviously, with Morimoto being a huge celebrity, he'd not be in his restaurant on a Monday night -- he's probably in Los Angeles or something. And we realized that that disappointed us. We're used to going places where the chef is actually THERE, even if he or she is mainly overseeing things, rather than directly cooking.
Nonetheless, the food WAS quite good and we quite enjoyed ourselves.
On Tuesday, we did the other major thing we went to New York to do. We went to the New York Spa Castle.
Lis read about it a while back, in an article that described it as a cross between a day spa and a water park. It's a variation of a Korean bath house. There are single-sex areas, but most of the place is for everyone.
Each of the single-sex areas includes lockers and showers -- both stand-up showers and the more Asian-style ones where you've got a stool and a hand-held shower hose. And they also have a steam room, where the steam is tea-scented, a sauna, and a series of pools, with hot water, warm water, lukewarm water, and chilled water, as well as a pool with jacuzzi jets that are designed to hit acupressure points. The bath areas are single-sex, and naked, but when you go upstairs from the single-sex areas, you're required to wear the provided uniform.
See, when you go into the place, you're provided with a little bracelet-thing that is shaped like a little wristwatch. It has a number on it, and inside is an RFID. The RFID is the key to a locker -- actually, two lockers. The first locker is the one for your shoes. Once you're barefood, they give you the uniform, which is a t-shirt and loose-fitting shorts. You strip, and put your clothing in your locker in the second bank of lockers, and, if you're staying in the single-sex area for a while, you leave your uniform in there, too. Once you're ready to go into the rest of the area, you put on your uniform.
Since your key is a wristwatch, you don't need to carry anything with you. Conveniently, and evilly, it's also keyed to the credit card you signed in with.
So, you walk upstairs wearing your t-shirt and shorts, and this second floor has a few different areas. It's the main social area, with tables and chairs -- because a bath house is a social center. So the place with the tables and chairs is one of the places you can just hang out and talk to people. There is another area where you can either get a shiatsu massage in a public room, or a Swedish or deep-tissue massage in a private room. I believe the room for manicures and pedicures is on that floor, too. And they've got a sleeping area -- which is just a floor. But it's a HEATED floor on one half, and a CHILLED floor on the other, with those little carved wooden head pillows, and it's surprisingly comfy. And a snack bar, where you can get frozen yogurt, sushi, hamburgers, spaghetti, and various other things like that.
But the main part of that floor is the seven themed saunas. Well, six saunas and an ice room.
The saunas are all at different temperatures, and all have different things about them with different health benefits. Well, which CLAIM to have different health benefits in weird New-Agey ways.
I wasn't impressed by the LED sauna, which allows you to shine different colors of lights on you while you shvitz. But I have to say, even if you don't believe that gold creates vibrations with nifty health effects, lying in a sauna that's tiled in gold is a truly unique experience. I felt like I was a Mayan prince or something like that.
There's a sauna lined in jade, one with blocks of mineral salts, one that has "far infrared" lights, which I have no idea what they are, and the largest and hottest one.
Up a flight is the mezzanine level, where you can get hand and foot reflexology massage, or sit in their bank of really comfy loungy-chairs, each of which has a little TV attached to it.
Upstairs from THAT are their "bade pools". These are outdoor pools -- for these, you need to have brought, or to rent, a swimsuit -- which have various jets in them.
You can also rent inner tubes to float around in, for the kids.
Oh, did I mention the kids? The thing which SOME people don't like about this place, but I LOVE is that it's for families. There are infants, toddlers, elementary school kids, teenagers, young adults, middle aged people, elderly, everything. You're hanging out in the ice room, and a couple eight-year-olds run in, and yelp because it's cold, and then run off to sit in the sauna to warm up. Parts of the bade pools are designed to be fun to shoot around in an inner tube.
It doesn't have "kiddie activities" -- it just assumes that your average kid will enjoy hanging out in out with their friends in a nifty environment, and it gives them a safe place to just, y'know, hang out with people, without having their parents looking over their shoulder every instant, but nonetheless always being safe around people. Not ALL the activities are kid-appropriate -- there's also a bar on that floor.
The top floor has another bar and restaurant, and more seating area. It's a counter-service Korean restaurant, with things like buckwheat noodles, and bibimbap. Also a workout room, but that's an extra five bucks.
Unless you're a member. It's a $35 entry, but you can also get a yearly membership. If we lived in Flushing, Lis says that we'd have a membership. It's the same price as a gym membership, but you get all that other stuff, too.
It really acts like a communal living room.
In our ongoing habit of doing romantic things during non-romantic times (our honeymoon was in a cabin in the woods of New Hampshire -- during Bike Week), we discovered that yesterday was the Nigeria/South Korea game. And, yes, this Korean spa DOES serve a largely Korean population. (Also, Russians, Chassids, and other groups who live in the neighborhood, too. The Chassids, of course, rarely go into the mixed-sex areas, but are quite happy to use the single-sex baths with everybody.)
As you might expect, watching a World Cup game with several hundred fans is a lot of fun.
Besides using the saunas and baths, I also got a deep-tissue massage; Lis got a Korean exfoliation, which she said was great.
And then we headed home. The Bronx-Whitestone bridge was down to two lanes because of construction, so, when the eighteen-wheeler in the left lane decided to merge into the right lane, right through us, there wasn't really anywhere we could go. We were smooshed right up into the Jersey barrier and dragged for a bit.
It wasn't actually all that scary. It was pretty darned clear to me that there wasn't much I could do about it, and that the passenger compartment of the car was not going to be breached, and that there wasn't anything in front of us that we were going to hit.
The driver, of course, noticed pretty fast that he'd hit us, and pulled over in front of us.
The most impressive damage was to the left side of the car where the truck hit. The spinning wheel of the truck ripped a circular hole in the back door, and shredded the back left tire.
The right side is merely scraped up, having been dragged along the Jersey barrier.
The car was drivable enough to get it past the toll plaza and out of the way of traffic. Did you know that, even if your car has been ripped to all heck, you STILL need to pay the toll at the toll booth? It's true!
Anyway, we dealt with the police reports and insurance and all that, and the tow truck towed us to a place that sold tires. We bought two tires -- to replace the one that was ripped to heck, and also to replace the other back tire, which was still holding together, but had a tear most of the way through it from where it had been dragged against the wall. They also banged the rim most of the way back into something approximating shape, enough to get us home until it could be ACTUALLY fixed.
With those, we managed to drive back home, and got home by eleven last night. The cats were very happy to see us.
And that was Lis's birthday weekend!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-23 09:08 pm (UTC)I'm really interested in the cocktail recipes, and who was there, and REALLY REALLY GLAD you made it home intact.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-23 09:12 pm (UTC)I am very glad you're both okay.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-23 10:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-23 09:16 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-23 09:29 pm (UTC)Shochu. I think you did a mashup with soju, which is Korean.
Masaharu Morimoto. and Omakase. (Sorry, Japanese only uses 5 vowels, so they're really important to get right.)
Glad you're okay. I once got a very similar bunch of damage from a Safeway truck at a freeway merge with bad visibility in the Bay Area. I felt like I was going to get decapitated. Glad yours was much less freaky!
p.s. my kid brother is looking at alternate career options, and is pondering bartending. And he's been reading a translated manga about Japanese bartending. Interested in talking to him, maybe?
(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-23 11:05 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-23 09:29 pm (UTC)The adventure with the truck and the Jersey barrier sounds, um, adventurous. Thank heavens no one was injured. And now your car will have some interesting stories to tell all the other cars. :)
I like your travelogue, and I love your descriptions of the contest and the spa. Not being a drinker, I know very little about bartending or the creation of beverages, but the way you talk about the contest and the recipes makes me understand why it would be interesting. And the spa sounds amazing. If I lived in Flushing, I would have a membership too. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-23 09:34 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-23 09:35 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-23 09:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-23 09:59 pm (UTC)The contest sounds like it was a really fantastic experience even though you didn't win, and I am VERY glad to hear you guys survived the truck.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-23 10:07 pm (UTC)Surviving unscathed -- priceless.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-24 05:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-23 10:21 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-23 10:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-23 11:07 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-23 11:34 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-24 01:53 am (UTC)Also, I AM SO GLAD YOU TWO ARE SAFE, and oh your poor car!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-24 04:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-24 12:14 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-24 02:21 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-25 02:40 am (UTC)I'm so very, very glad that you're both okay. We need to find a time when I can take you and Lis to Tango, to celebrate both your birthdays, your anniversary, and your unscathed escape. Any anything else we can think of to celebrate.
The contest sounds like fun. From your descriptions of the other drinks, I think I probably would have preferred yours because I prefer a certain simplicity in my mixed drinks. I'm not a sophisticated enough drinker to appreciate the interplay of so many flavors and odors.
Just curious: Why don't you spit at tastings?
(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-25 12:21 pm (UTC)The REAL reason is because I like the stuff too much. It just seems like such a waste.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-30 12:54 pm (UTC)