Boobs, Beer and Bears!

Sunday I woke up exhausted and fought for however many extra minutes of shut eye I could manage. I froze all night - between sleeping with my foot on ice, the ceiling fan which I could not figure out how to turn off and my dear husband taking the covers for himself leaving me with just a sheet - my teeth chattered all night.

Frank had showered and I thought I’d finally make the effort to get up, but a Charlie horse from hell had me violently thrusting back n forth trying to control the intense pain from the spasms in my left calf. When it was finally over, I couldn’t bear to move. I laid in bed and Frank left for coffee.

He came back with a look of disgust and a tasty granita from PJ’s. He told me the tale of the business owners around Bourbon Street attempting to wash “the sin” away by hosing the filth out into the streets. He said his walk was completely nauseating. Who knew the Charlie horse from hell would be the win? I hobbled out of bed feeling aches and pains radiating from my ankle, and now, my calf. Lovely.

We were in search of food. I thought it was time we get our hands on a muffuletta, but when I checked the address for Central Grocery I learned it was closed Sundays and Mondays. Boo. A quick search revealed Johnny’s Po-Boys a tasty alternative. It was recently featured on “The Best Thing I Ever Ate.” Sold! We were off.

The restaurant was crowded, but a line was just starting to form. I secured a table, while Frank placed the order. He got Johnny’s special and biscuit sammie for him and a toasted muffuletta for me since that’s supposed to be “best.” We waited and waited, our number was called, and I asked Frank if he wanted a hand? “Nah.” Famous last words, he got nudged on his way back to the table. All the sandwiches splattered into a million pieces. I attempted a save, much too late and only protected a slab of hot meat from hitting the floor. We cleaned up the mess one napkin at a time. A sweet southern lady beside us gave us a sympathetic look combined with a “bless your heart.” Once the bulk of the mess was clean Frank went up to the counter explained what happened and they fired up a replacement, only Frank forgot to mention the biscuit. It might have just been the best thing ever, but we’ll never know. We dug into our sandwiches after we safely secured them at the table. Attempt two was far more successful.





The eats, however, were not. I ate a quarter of muffuletta so I could take Ibuprofen, but I didn’t like it. Not being a fan of olives I didn’t expect to love it, but I had to try. The meats failed to impress, my kindest words go out to the bread. Frank didn’t love his po-boy either. The roast beef was dry and bland despite the addition of gravy. We were raised on Chicago Italian beef – roast beef never measures up, we should know better.

We walked up towards the Riverfront and walked along the Mississippi. It was like seeing an old friend. We’ve camped along the river in Iowa and we’ve seen it up near St. Paul, MN.









We took the riverwalk which led us to Harrah’s. We went inside and had a look around. It was nice, nicer than casinos in East Chicago, Reno, Laughlin and Vegas. After a quick lap, we left; we didn’t come to waste away in a casino. We walked down Canal Street and popped in and out of souvenir stores in search of sunglasses. I forgot to pack two things, I bet you can guess one; the other was umbrellas which thankfully were never needed. We came up empty, but scored later at CVS.





It was getting close to game time so we wandered the quarter in search of the Bears game.







Finding any game besides the Saints was tough enough, the Bears seemed near impossible. We found it at Rick’s Saloon. Yes, that’d be a strip club. I looked over the beer list and saw that pints were $8.00. I thought it could get pricey so we moved on thinking we might find a bar on Decatur. We did find an Irish bar. It even had the Bears game, but it was packed there were no seats left. We stayed for a beer: Abita Amber, me and Abita Fall Harvest, him.









We wandered a full loop and ended up back at Rick’s. We met fellow Bear fans, we had a TV to ourselves and it turned out Abita Amber was on special during the games, 2 for $9. Boobs, beer and Bears! We were set, with comfy chairs, too. So, we didn’t come to waste away in a casino, but we did in a strip club. How I love the irony. We had a great afternoon! Bears won, Detroit even snagged a win. We shared a cigar. The women’s bathroom was clean and large. I was so impressed. More often than not, if I want to use the bathroom in a strip club, I use the one the strippers use. It’s never been pretty. All the games ended, Green Bay was up next beers had been flowing, I was in need of food. Frank was feeling pretty good, too. Our new friends recommended Muriel’s but it was upscale so we nixed it.

We ended up at Deanie’s Seafood. We had boiled potatoes to start – that was a first. Frank ordered the crab au gratin and I opted for BBQ Shrimp pasta.





Both were good, just not particularly noteworthy. We paid our tab and went back to the hotel. I wanted sleep and I chills I could not contain.
Frank looked for another place to grab a bite while I dozed off and on still unable to shake the chills. He dragged me from bed and we went to Desire on Bourbon St. It’s hard to take any white table cloth type place seriously when the Bourbon St madness is happening right outside. We start with Oysters Desire. I opt for Turtle Soup not being terribly hungry and I hoped it’d warm me up. Frank tried their version of Jambalaya.







The oysters were tasty, I think I prefer them baked to freshly shucked. I wasn’t a fan of the turtle soup. There was something about it that reminded me of Chili and I hate chili. The waiter brought over a shot of brandy and it helped it none. I did not like Frank’s Jambalaya either. He agreed he liked my Zatarain’s with LA Red Hots version better.

We went back to the hotel to watch the rest of the Sunday night game. I climbed under the covers, I still could not kick the chills. Frank asked if I wanted to head back out or sleep? I voted for sleep. I’d give you my list of excuses, except I know, I’m lame.

A scent you wish you could forget

Saturday morning we left Las Vegas and arrived in New Orleans late afternoon. The flight out was pretty uneventful, most notable thing was I was sandwiched in the middle the seat and I sported so much cleavage while reading my book I felt like I got an instant boob job. Downside was a killer back ache.

We were afraid of the weather - hot, humid, rain or hurricanes were likely - but it was beautiful! Every. Single. Day. It never rained, humidity was low and the temperatures were just right. We really lucked out.

My friend, Andie, was a sweetheart and picked us up, we weren't sure we were in the right spot, but we found her quickly. She began our tour, first stop was the spillway, we passed oil refineries and we had our first swamp sighting on the way. The spillway is similar to our flood channels only on a much grander scale.









We were starved so we made a pit stop at the Seafood Pot. Drive-thru daiquiris kill me, but they're apparently the norm in NOLA. We resisted the temptation, and stuck with a couple of po-boys. We tried the catfish and crab cake, both "dressed" with mayo, tomato and lettuce. We also shared an order of sweet potato fries. Andie was good and stuck with boiled shrimp salad.





It was our first time having catfish, it was tastier than I'd expect. My crab cakes were heavy on the mayo, but otherwise good. We were big fans of the bread. It was sturdy, yet light and airy.

Bellies full, Andie took us to her house. Scott was home with Andrew. At 6 weeks old, Andrew was totally into football, never too young to start! Lovely home and even more lovely family. We pressed on, I didn't want to check into our hotel too late for fear of getting whatever happened to be left, rather than the king we reserved. We saw two plantations: Ormond and Destrehan. Since Andie was a tour guide years ago she filled us in on details usually provided on the paid tour.

Ormond's architecture is the French West Indies style. It first produced indigo, then became a sugar plantation. Today, it's a bed & breakfast and the setting for many weddings.







Oh! And the oak trees? They are beautiful! Even with all the Spanish moss.



Destrehan Plantation is an antebellum Greek Revival house built by a free man of color, beginning in 1787. It was originally intended as an indigo plantation, but it later became the leader in sugar production. Old refineries and an old legend that Jean Lafitte had hidden treasure in the house led to the manor's demise. American Oil later donated the property to the Historical Society. They have restored it and operate tours today.



After the plantations Andie took us into the city, specifically Uptown. We went by the zoo, Loyola and Tulane. Then we cut over to Magazine Street, which was having an some sort of Art Open House. The homes were lovely and I admired all the iron work as we drove by. And the porches, wow. Restaurants and bars had open patios which was unexpected, I thought the weather would keep people indoors, but I was wrong. Outdoor patio dining was abundant all over the city. We crossed the Central Business District and I found a peculiar building I took a liking to that resembles (IMO) and air-traffic control tower - I later snapped a photo, and learned the building has been closed for some time.

I've since researched it and it is the Plaza Tower. It's the third largest tower in NOLA. It was built as residences and office space, but the building's been sealed off and unused since 2002. The culprit? Toxic mold and asbestos. Leave it to me to find the "gem" of the bunch. Eh, at least it's not just Las Vegas with useless real estate just waiting to be unloaded.



Andie finished our tour by dropping us off at our hotel, Prince Conti. It's about a 1/2 block from Bourbon St and it is very affordable. Accommodations were comfortable given the price, all except the pillows, that is. They're in desperate need of replacement. We unpacked and relaxed a bit before heading out.

I'm glad we did. Bourbon Street was a madhouse. This was just Saturday night, I cannot imagine what Mardi Gras must be like. We walked toward Canal St and we quickly learned that the sidewalks are a death-trap, or at the very least a good way to break an ankle or lower limb. I spent the rest of the trip watching my feet to be sure each step was a safe one. Coming back down Bourbon St we caught the first good whiff of the nasty stank that permeates the air. It's an unwelcomed blend of vomit, hard alcohol and bleach. We'd soon learn the bleach stench was stronger during the day and the vomit rank dominated the night.

Between the crowds and the smell we wanted off Bourbon Street. We wandered for a convenience store to buy water. It proved to be far more difficult than I imagined. Finally, we found one on Dauphine/Toulouse. $2.50 bottle of Smart Water seemed anything but at that moment, but I was parched and didn't much care.

With hydration out of the way, it was time for sustenance. We went to Coops Place on Decatur. The walk over was filled with colorful characters. One wanted to arm wrestle Frank for a dollar. No one asked us about our shoes, to our dismay. We walked into the restaurant, but we were promptly snapped at and told to wait in line outside. "Okay, sorry." Since there wasn't one, we started it. Crowds draw crowds and soon we were very thankful that we had good timing. We snagged a table squished along the back wall. Coops is known for Jambalaya and it was the single most dish I looked forward to. I've only known what I make at home with Zatarain's and I yearned for the real thing. I ordered the taste plate which comes with a cup of Seafood Gumbo, Shrimp Creole, Cajun Fried Chicken, Red Beans & Rice with Sausage, and Rabbit & Sausage Jambalaya. Frank had the Cajun Fried Chicken, their other famous, possibly more famous, menu item. We washed it all down with Abita Amber, which became a quick favorite.

It was dark so the only food photo that resembled food was the seafood gumbo. Which was tasty with okra, shrimp, crabclaw, and oyster.



It was a great surprise that I hated the Jambalaya. It wasn't the rabbit or sausage I disliked it was the rice itself, it was mush. Suddenly, my world was turned upside-down, because I liked the red beans and rice. A dish I was sure I would not like. It is only been with minestrone soup that I'll tolerate beans. Any other preparation, type or whatever, no bueno! Red beans and rice are good! The rice and sausage hide the texure I don't like and the seasonings are powerful enough to give it flavor. Chicken is my least favorite protein, I'm not particularly fond of meat on the bone, but I can enjoy it if the meat it tasty enough to make it worthwhile - BBQ ribs, bone-in pork or steak, lamb chops. Chicken tenders and boneless buffalo wings are my pick for fried cluckers. I have no wide experience with fried chicken, but Coops was very good. The breading was flavorful and it seasoned the juicy chicken meat down to the bone, not just the skin. Shrimp Creole was new to me and I liked it best, it's simple enough with shrimp in a spicy sauce made with tomatoes, onions, garlic, green peppers, and seasonings. Served over rice.

After dinner, we walked the Quarter a bit before settling on an empty-ish bar on Bourbon Street. No gimmicks, just a bar with beer on tap. Our kind of place. Frank went with LA-31 Bière Pâle and I had Abita's Golden. Good stuff. We thought we'd bar hop a bit, but we never came upon another one that grabbed us. We were over the crowds (we get enough of those at home) and my ankle was crying out for ice, so we went back to the hotel and called it a night.

1,001 Ways to Break An Ankle

The streets of NOLA are treacherous, well, more specifically the sidewalks. I knew walking was going to be a challenge, but I never anticipated to what extent. There are at least 1,001 ways to break an ankle. There are cracks, missing bricks, loose cobblestone, potholes, sewer caps, and the list goes on and on. I spent 99% of my time in NOLA watching my feet to make sure every step was a safe one. Since it was a large part of my trip, I decided to document a small sampling during a stroll from Canal St to Bourbon St.



It appears it's been 27 years since sidewalks were last improved. Overdue? Yeah, I'd say so.













Despite all the obstacles, I'm happy to report no additional injuries. Frank also fared well considering. Actual trip details and photos to come.

5 Best Decisions

We fall down and get back up many times in our lives. Have you taken the time to reflect on those decisions made. You know, the good, the bad, the ugly?

Today, let's focus on the good.

If you had to name your 5 best decisions made as an adult, what would they be?

Mine are choosing Frank, following my dream of life in Las Vegas, quitting smoking, bailing on real estate by renting, and making traveling a priority.

He Gone!

The timing of the news that the White Sox released Ozzie Guillen was quite ironic. Frank and I were sitting at the Yard House enjoying dinner and Kronenbourgs, after watching Moneyball at Rave Theaters. The solid theme throughout the film is the lure of baseball isn't the money, but the romance.

Here we have a manager and team parting ways over money. The romance must be lost in Chicago.

Guillen is a colorful character. He's known to speak his mind, and he sugar coats nothing. Many hate him for this very reason. I, on the other hand, respect the guy. He led our 2005 White Sox to victory, without him I might not have gotten to experience what it feels like to be World Champs. Several seasons have come and gone since then; Ozzie and crew have not been able to replicate that charisma that we had that awesome season. I'm not opposed to change, especially when things aren't working. I wish Ozzie well in Florida (or wherever he ends up). I'm doubtful they'll be able to handle him, though.

Meeting Jose

Friday night, Frank got hung up at work and had to cancel on our plans last minute. For a brief minute, I considered not going to the "Cocktails with Jose Andres" event at China Poblano. But rather than resting my sore ankle at home, I decided to live a little and went solo. Immediately upon entering, I was welcomed with a Bombay Sapphire Gin & Tonic adorned with a ice sphere, verbena, juniper berries and elderflower. It was beautiful.

Fortunately, I found a table of familiar faces - a group I've met at previous Yelp events were already noshing on bites from the kitchen. Servers came by with a variety of dishes at rapid pace. I tasted eight in all. The carnitas taco and guacamole were my favorites. I also enjoyed the chicken jisong a very tasty version of lettuce wraps. Those I liked the least were the 'Don't be Jealous' hot and sour soup and the taco barbacoa was too salty for my liking. Other bites such as sui mai beef, lemon tree shrimp and rou jai mo street sandwich fell somewhere in between. It was fun to experience the connection between East and West through China Poblano's menu.

There were plenty of local celebrities in attendence. I caught glimpses of Norm Clarke, Al Mancini and Kerry Simon. I did have the opportunity to meet Jose Andres. As tasty as the bites were that was the real treat.

It's Friday, Friday

Gotta get down with fall day. So long summer, you will be missed. I'm thrilled Mother Nature is looking out for me by making this whole change of season thing a bit easier. It's bright and sunny, and we should reach triple digits; they're calling for a high of 101 today. I'll take it!

This crazy week is nearly over. Weekend plans are pretty calm. Tonight, we're checking out a VIP/media invite over at Cosmopolitan, "Cocktails with Jose Andres" at China Poblano. He's a highly renowned Spanish chef, we haven't yet tried any of his restaurants, but both Jaleo and China Poblano sound intriguing. I hope we'll get to sample some eats at the event. The rest of the weekend will be pretty low-key, we have a house-warming party to attend, and Sunday, I'll drive out to Pahrump to visit with mom and Mike.

I need to firm up plans for our New Orleans trip. We'll be at the airport boarding our departing flight before I know it. I'm so looking forward to it. I'm ready to get away.

San Francisco is to follow in November. If that's going to happen I'll need to secure hotel reservations.

The big news of late is Amy and Nicky are coming for a visit. They'll get in Nov 16 and stay until Nov 29. This means Thanksgiving will be our first holiday together as a family. We'll also be celebrating Nicky's 5th birthday and Christmas while they're here. Fun times are ahead. Maybe fall isn't so bad?

Limbo

What a week?! I feel ragged. I swear I'm in my own version of 127 Hours I might not be stuck between a rock and a hard place, but I have contemplated cutting off a limb. Dramatic? Yeah, probably.

Still my mom has had a worse week. She was supposed to have surgery to repair two hernias on Tuesday. Due to lack of insurance, medicare red tape and other non-sense. She's waited a year. Hernias shouldn't have birthdays, but my parents have made a habit of it. Mom's is the baby at just a year. I'm pretty sure Dad's hernia celebrates its ninth birthday this year. I wish I was kidding, but I'm not. Frank told me yesterday if a hernia is ever an issue for me, I'm having emergency surgery, even if it means he does it himself. His point is well taken, hernia's shouldn't have birthdays. Anyway, my mom was prepped for surgery and ready to be led into the OR. The Anesthesiologist and the Surgeon chatted, and based on her EKG they called off the surgery. They pulled out her IV, had her dress and sent her on her way with orders to follow up with a cardiologist. She understands and appreciates their concern, but it was mighty frustrating to make all the plans and arrangements for surgery and recovery to only gain a few bruises from the experience.

She'll see a cardiologist today. I imagine they'll do a stress test and EKG. Hopefully, all will look ok and the abnormal EKG at the hospital was a fluke caused by the anxiety of the surgery. She's been uncomfortable for a long time. I'd hate to see her stuck in limbo.

Discouraged

With vacation looming, I'm more anxious than ever to get my ankle back to normal. Well, what I know to be normal. I know it'll never be as good as new. I'd like to pick up pace, walk down stairs and get around without pain or swelling.

I saw my doctor on Monday. He ordered three more weeks of physical therapy, prescribed ibuprofen and determined my tendons are extremely inflammed. I asked if I could resume exercise, I was shot down. "Absolutely no treadmill," I was told. The elliptical is a possibility, if there is no pain and I use no incline or resistance. He injected me with cortisone to reduce the inflammation. I was told I should feel improvement in 48-72 hours and I was told return in three weeks.

The injection was very uncomfortable, but over quickly so I didn't squirm for long. I went home and made dinner as usual. As the night wore on, my foot swelled and felt very heavy. It became painful and extremely difficult to walk. About 9 o'clock, I took a strong dose of ibruprofen, went to bed and iced the injection site to bring down the swelling. I prayed for sleep, but it was after midnight before I was able to drift off.

Waking up yesterday morning, I felt a bit better. My foot no longer felt like there was a 55-lb weight attached to it. It was about 20 pounds lighter, but still very tender, and walking was a difficult task. Walking is an overstatement, all I could do was hobble. I elevated and iced it all morning, by afternoon I was able to get some swelling down. I went to my PT appt as scheduled. What a waste! They added new exercises, but I couldn't even do majority of the old ones. All I did was 10 minutes on the bike, heel raises, ABC's and stood on my right foot for 30 second invervals, 4x. That last one was new, I was shaky and had to grab on for balance. No ultrasound was done and they could hardly work on me for massage. They did suggest I try the treadmill. I told them no per doctors orders. Also, talking with my physical therapist he sees one success for every failed cortisone shot. I feel so discouraged. I feel like a guinea pig with no end in sight. I'm hopeful the cortisone works as it should, I hate to see it cause regression. Either way, I'm not doing another one, so I certainly hope it allows me to move on. Techinically, I should notice a difference as early as tonight, if not tomorrow. I'm skeptical. Today's only improvement is less swelling and tenderness at the injection site. The tendons themselves feel no different. Phooey.

The Big Easy

Our trip to New Orleans is less than two weeks away. Where, oh where, has time gone? This trip has snuck up on me. Really, I think I'm just in denial that fall is around the corner. In my mind, I thought New Orleans - Fall. But those thoughts are dulled by little voices screaming, "No summer! Don't go! Stay! Pretty pretty please." However, in just three short days fall will be here. There's not a thing I can do to stop it.

At least I can drown my sorrows in happy thoughts of visiting a new city. This will be our first visit to New Orleans. It'll be my first encounter with southern culture. I've only been to Florida before, Frank has driven down to Georgia from Chicago - many years ago, he visited a friend at the AFB there. Robins, maybe? - so he has more of an idea of what to expect.

Our hotel is a half block from Bourbon Street in the French Quarter. We should be convenient to the sights, nightlife and streetcars. I see us becoming pretty familiar with the streetcars. We'll need to take them to get a few restaurants on our list. We plan to stick to local cuisine. I want muffaletta (Central Grocery) and po'boy (Domilse’s) sandwiches. I want real jambalaya (I hear Coops is good) and gumbo (Commander's is supposed to be the place). I desperately want to try John Besh's Restaurant August, and since I never got to Commander's Palace while they were here in Vegas I feel I must try the original location.

I'm interested to see the city's architecture, the historic homes and mansions. I suspect we might see a plantation, as well. We anticipate sights such as the cemeteries, St. Louis Cathedral and the French Market. And to make the experience complete we plan to take an airboat swamp tour. I imagine we'll find ourselves in a live music bar at some point, too.

Do you have a favorite restaurant or must see? Let's have it.

What the hell?

When did boxing become a love fest with kisses and hugs?

Did you see the Mayweather vs. Ortiz fight? Did it stun you, too? I know we were all gathered around the tv and "wtf" was yelled out in unison. What just happened?

I've been geared up for the fight thanks to HBO's 24/7. They do such a great job with that series. I know Mayweather has his haters, sure he's cocky, he's been accused of questionable things, but truthfully I only care what he does in camp and in the ring. I think he's a great boxer, definitely, the best I've seen in my life time. With an undefeated record (now 42-0), you can't name a better performing athlete. His ability is as remarkable as his cockiness. He's a showman. He talks the talk, but also walks the walk. I can't fault him. Beneath that swagger, he does have heart. He's my fighter of choice.

I had no doubt Ortiz would lose, but I really thought the fight would be a minimum of ten rounds and Mayweather by decision would be most likely. I figured Ortiz could throw a good punch, and I believe he can. I just felt he'd fall short on speed and accuracy against Mayweather. That he did. What I never counted on was Ortiz's headbutt, followed by a kiss or his deer in headlights "hug it out" approach in round 4. This isn't a make out session, you're in the ring. Just like there's no crying in baseball, there's no room for hugs or kisses in the ring. It's him or you, you always protect yourself. Period. Ortiz ignored the number one rule, he got knocked out. What could've been a great fight is a controversial one in the end. Although, I see it as poor representation of Ortiz. Still he was happier than a pig in shit. He got his payday, Mayweather walked in with 50 Cent and walked out with 50 million. And we're one fight closer to the one that really matters. C'mon Pacquio... Mayweather, let's do this!

Rehab

For the past two weeks I've my rehabbing my ankle in Physical Therapy three times a week. It's my first time experiencing this song and dance. It's unfun, but it seems to be beneficial and I wished it had been suggested to me six years ago after breaking my ankle. I really don't think I ever recovered from that injury, sure it healed and I eventually learned to move it, but it's never been the same. Its instability has proven itself with the multiple sprains I've had over the last few years.

After three weeks in the boot, I healed well enough to earn some freedom. Wearing my robo boot in triple digits was very toasty to say the least. So I was thrilled when I retired it, and it better be for the last time, too, dammit! I've gotten far more use out of it that I had ever intended.

Those three weeks allowed enough time for the medial ankle bruising and swelling to vanish. I was left with swelling on the lateral ankle. My Achilles ached and just beside that, up to ankle was tender and swollen. I was told I was suffering from Achilles tendinitis and one ligament from the sprain was slow to heal. That's when I was told to start Physical Therapy.

My initial exam showed very little range of motion. Very little is an understatement. I was shocked how stiff and limited it was. That's when I was released from the boot. My physical therapist wanted me mobile to gain strength. I was shaky at first, but I quickly gained stability. I was just slower than molasses. I'm a bit faster now, but I'm still moving at turtles pace.

I've been treated with ultrasounds, stim and ice therapy. I have a laundry list of exercises, I pedal on the recumbent bike and I fight the BAPS board and elastic bands. It's beyond frustrating being told to complete a simple straight forward task and think "it's a piece of cake" only to learn what a nightmare it truly is. Each day I give it my all. Some days are better than others. Apparently, sitting on my ass at work is causing fluids to pool so I have to keep my foot elevated to keep the swelling down. My ankle still gets really puffy but it does keep it from feeling like my toes are grapes ready to explode at any given minute. Every time I'm given a new exercise it really pisses my ankle off and I deal with an angry ankle for at least 24 hours. Inversion exercises with the bands got me last night. I'm still waiting for the soreness and swelling to subside. I hate feeling like this before even beginning the day's PT session.

Good news is it's all not for nothing. Yesterday, I had a progress report done. We reevaluated my pain and ability to complete tasks, and measured my range of motion. My most impressive improvement is my ability to stretch outward (think pressing on the gas pedal), I gained 14%. Last Tuesday was when I noticed my breakthrough in that regard. It was then I realized I could reach both the gas and brake with my right foot. I'm still driving two footed, but I'm using the left to brake less and less. I improved 2-5% in other areas. Counter and clockwise circles are tough and inversion and eversion exercises are my nemesis. But I'm determined to conquer them, I can't trade this ankle in for a better model so I gotta do what I can to get this one in better shape.

Dona Maria Tamales

I love love love tamals. Love them! Being that Dona Maria has Tamale in the name I thought they'd be a sure bet. A discounted $10 dining certificate from Restaurant.com gave me the push I needed to give the restaurant a try.

Frank and I dined in the Tenaya location earlier this week. We were one of three tables dining in. It was awfully quiet for such a large space. Our server was friendly and attentive.

We asked for a hotter salsa than the one given and they came back with a delicious smoky spicy option, Chipotle, if I had to guess. It was excellent. We loved the heat. Albondigas soup followed, it was pretty good, I enjoyed the flavorful meatballs.





Both entrees were combos: tamal enchilada style and beef & bean burrito, and chile relleno and cheese and chili tamal. It was fine, but highly Americanized. This gringa likes the real deal so it was a disappointment. My tamal was pretty bland and dry, it needed more zest. I covered mine in the yummy hot salsa and it did the trick. Needless to say the enchilada style went over better.

I really need an abuelita in my life. I wish I could make authentic Mexican eats at home. It would save so much time, effort and belly space that is now spent on so so bites made to please gringos.

Waking Up in the Dark

It seems like I am the only one not jumping for joy for fall's arrival. I never want summer to end, and my dread for fall grows each year. "EH! EH! EH!" My alarm sounds each morning at 6:30 to encourage me to get my ass out of bed and start the day. I'm one of those people who sets the clock 10 minutes fast to build in a buffer, but I snooze it away more times than not and I'm fully aware the clock is fast so it doesn't make a whole helluva lot of sense. Still, I do it. This week it's been dark. I'm not much of a morning person and to start my day in darkness makes it's so much harder to drag myself from the coziness of my bed. The sun rises as I brush my teeth. Soon, I won't see the sun peer from the window until I shower. It won't be long before we're changing the clocks back, which does help the morning routine, but I hate driving home in darkness. I sit in a windowless office all day, rarely getting out for lunch, the hour of sun (while I prep and drive to work) I see in the morning hardly gives me the dose of Vitamin D I need. I'm definitely one affected by SAD. As soon as I know winter is near the depression settles in.

It's rained off and on for three days and it's not helping my mood any. I'd really like to resume our regularly scheduled warmth and sunshine. I'm not ready for clouds and 80-degree highs. Most Las Vegans are in heaven. They welcome the break of triple digit heat and rain is a treat in the desert. Just this morning, co-workers bounced down the halls giddy that more rain would fall. They all love this weather. "Good for them," I say. I hate this shit. It looks like we'll be plagued by storms all week. I can already hear everyone's cheers.

Speaking of storms, they put a damper on our concert Saturday night. We went to Mandalay Bay Beach to see Slighty Stoopid with Fishbone. Mike joined us. We brought beer to pre-party before the show. The Selena Gomez show was at the event center, kidlets and their parents paraded around while we polished off a 6 pack of Dos Equis. I'm sure we made the most interesting man in the world proud. We also had PBR to bring into the show since last year we were welcomed with tall boys, aluminum was A-OK. This year, we learned they limited it to plastic. Anything and everything had to be poured into the cups at the gate. Still, better than no outside beverages. We obliged their request and each of us entered double fisting our PBR in plastic. We're so high class.

We took our spots, front row in the water just below the stage, we were there for the Dirty Head show too. I was unfamiliar with Fishbone, but they were high energy and quite entertaining. They made my night when they played Sublime's "Date Rape". Stoopid had the longest sound check ever. When they finally got the show underway they invited Fishbone to join them on stage. It was cool, and I wouldn't have minded had we seen them move on and play our favorites. But they never got the chance. Mother Nature had other plans, after "Closer to the Sun" lightning appeared in the distance. The show went on, I kept one eye on the storm the other on the stage since we were standing in water. They did belt out "Til it Gets Wet" before we got wet. We knew the storm was getting close so we left the pool and found a place front row on the beach. Just as we got settled security and life guards made everyone exit the pool. Fishbone and Stoopid encouraged the crowd to return, they asked if someone pissed the pool. It didn't take long before the caught on (or were told) why we were all huddled on the beach. They finished out the song with a "we love you, Las Vegas" and people cheered for the encore, but the house lights came on and show was over. It's no one's fault, this is the risk you take with an outdoor show, but still we felt robbed. No "Collieman".. nuthin'. Such a bummer. This was the second show shut down by weather. The other was Steve Miller last year at M Resort. They never even had a chance, winds shut that show down before it even started. This shouldn't be such a problem in the desert, but that's my luck.

Alizé

We closed out Restaurant Week 2011 with one last meal at Alize. We had 6 o'clock reservations. Getting up to Alizé was disjointed, very odd encounters with employees near the elevators. Finally, we arrived to the restaurant and we were greeted by the hostess. We had a table overlooking the north valley, a glance over my shoulder revealed the south strip.



The views are stunning, clouds had gathered and I hoped we'd see a storm but none developed, but we did enjoy sunset. As for the $50.11 Restaurant Week menu they pulled the short ribs advertised and replaced it with Hanger Steak. Frank opted to order off the regular menu, I went ahead with the three courses offered by Restaurant Week.

We started with an Amuse of Tuna Ceviche



First Course
Angus Beef Carpaccio with Watercress and Parmesan Cheese; Basil Pesto and Toasted Baguette.



Second Course
Hanger steak with Gruyere Potato Mousseline Sautéed Spinach, Braised Shallots, and Pinot Noir Sauce



Third Course
Andres Apple Tarte Tatin with a Pignoli Florentine and Calvados Ice Cream



Frank had the French Onion soup and Duo of Lamb with potato napoleon.





The carpaccio was delicious and prepared very similarly to the bison carpaccio at Andres, which is my ultimate favorite version. The French onion soup was enjoyable. My entree was tasty, hanger steak is my least favorite cut of beef but it was nicely executed. The duo of lamb was the better dish, but that was expected. The rack had a rich mustard crust and the braised shoulder layered with the potatoes was especially good when ran through the sauce and feta cheese. Dessert was adequate, but no part was particularily noteworthy. Honestly, it left me craving the apple cobbler from Buzz BBQ.

Alizé was enjoyable, but not nearly as memorable as I hoped. I definitely prefer Andres at Monte Carlo. However, for all the places I've dined with stellar views of the city, Alizé does offer the highest caliber of eats.