Feb. 22nd, 2012 10:43 pm
Something fishy
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muckefuckStupidly, I'd barely left the building before realising I'd forgotten the brochure I'd been handed by the tech alone with the monitor. I considered going back for it, lest they not accept the recorder alone, but figured it could hardly haven been the first time someone had forgotten a document. Still their protocol hardly inspired confidence: the receptionist was so inept at taking my name I finally just gave her a card she could copy it from--onto a ruled notepad sitting vaguely near where she'd set the monitor now. I'm tempted to call to make sure it really did end up in the technician's hands properly labeled except I'd just get the same receptionist who would say reassuring things regardless.
The most annoying part is that I made such excellent time I could easily have gone back for it. The office closed at 5:30 so I left work at ten to four. This put me back on the street at 4:38, wondering how I was going to kill and hour and change before meeting![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hisregard at Chizakaya. First, I needed to make sure I knew where the restaurant was; that took all of about three minutes. So I continued down Lincoln, figuring I'd eventually have to hit someplace inviting like a coffee shop or chocolate salon, when it occurred to me to wonder, Hey, isn't there still a Powell's along this stretch.
Indeed there is; problem solved.
At 5:51, I was cramming my knapsack with paperbacks, hoping to avoid the shame of arriving late to a rendezvous I'd claimed I'd be plenty early to. He was running a bit late as it turned out so I ended up with some to review the menu as I sat at the swank bar. I'd been here once before, last May, but only for cocktails, and I was particularly looking forward to digging into their grilled food.
So it was a bit disappointing that both the skewers we ordered, baby octopus and duck hearts, were on the chewy side. Chicken hearts were actually my first choice, but I was intrigued by this new option, whichhisregard described as having "the texture of beef and the flavour of duck"; now I wonder if they wouldn't have been more tender. I could also have done with a tad less "Japanese barbecue sauce" on the octopi.
Probably the best mouthful I had were the "octopus beignets with shaved bonito". The cephalopod bits weren't any more tender, but this was less noticeable encased with dough. My entrée was a variation on the same theme, a seafood okonomiyaki. It was rich and a bit overwhelming; fortunately, I'd had the idea to order some oshinko in order to balance the oiliness of the appetisers and there was enough pickled onion left over from that to compensate for the unctuousness of a mayo-topped shrimp-bacon pancake (a role which should've been played by the pickled ginger, which was so scanty that I'd all but forgotten it was listed in the description).
But I cavil too much; all in all, it was a lovely experience, one enhanced by a rye sour sweetened with ginger-lemon syrup. I truly wish I could've had another of those--or takehisregard up on an invitation to a nightcap at Barrelhouse Flat. But that will have to wait for another time--ideally a weekend, where considerations of an early bedtime no longer apply.
The most annoying part is that I made such excellent time I could easily have gone back for it. The office closed at 5:30 so I left work at ten to four. This put me back on the street at 4:38, wondering how I was going to kill and hour and change before meeting
hisregard at Chizakaya. First, I needed to make sure I knew where the restaurant was; that took all of about three minutes. So I continued down Lincoln, figuring I'd eventually have to hit someplace inviting like a coffee shop or chocolate salon, when it occurred to me to wonder, Hey, isn't there still a Powell's along this stretch.Indeed there is; problem solved.
At 5:51, I was cramming my knapsack with paperbacks, hoping to avoid the shame of arriving late to a rendezvous I'd claimed I'd be plenty early to. He was running a bit late as it turned out so I ended up with some to review the menu as I sat at the swank bar. I'd been here once before, last May, but only for cocktails, and I was particularly looking forward to digging into their grilled food.
So it was a bit disappointing that both the skewers we ordered, baby octopus and duck hearts, were on the chewy side. Chicken hearts were actually my first choice, but I was intrigued by this new option, which
hisregard described as having "the texture of beef and the flavour of duck"; now I wonder if they wouldn't have been more tender. I could also have done with a tad less "Japanese barbecue sauce" on the octopi.Probably the best mouthful I had were the "octopus beignets with shaved bonito". The cephalopod bits weren't any more tender, but this was less noticeable encased with dough. My entrée was a variation on the same theme, a seafood okonomiyaki. It was rich and a bit overwhelming; fortunately, I'd had the idea to order some oshinko in order to balance the oiliness of the appetisers and there was enough pickled onion left over from that to compensate for the unctuousness of a mayo-topped shrimp-bacon pancake (a role which should've been played by the pickled ginger, which was so scanty that I'd all but forgotten it was listed in the description).
But I cavil too much; all in all, it was a lovely experience, one enhanced by a rye sour sweetened with ginger-lemon syrup. I truly wish I could've had another of those--or take
hisregard up on an invitation to a nightcap at Barrelhouse Flat. But that will have to wait for another time--ideally a weekend, where considerations of an early bedtime no longer apply.