Or maybe I should say the call of The Cheese Traveler. A couple of weeks ago while I was out of town, Eric reached out to me to see if I might lend a hand during his weekly cookouts. His regular servers were moving on to other opportunities and he just needed some help for the last 8 weeks or so of his season. Well, you know me. I like to work and if I can be of assistance to someone in my DelSo neighborhood, I’m in. Plus, there was cheese!
Two weeks ago, along with my neighbor/former McG’s coworker, Emily, I worked my first shift. How did it go? Well, we muddled through by the grace of our experience and the mellowness of everyone involved. If you’ve never done front of the house duties before I don’t know if I can explain to you all the variables and details which are involved with walking into an unknown food business and providing service, but, I’ll give it a shot…
First, there’s the menu. Although Ryan, Eric’s rockstar grill guy, runs a fairly small menu, the individual items feature numerous ingredients. Many of them include source information (for instance “Tilldale Farm“) or require some explanation (what is Halloumi??). Then there’s the beer, wine and cider offerings, which are really extensive and primarily small batch. Add in the need to understand how tickets or orders are placed (who makes the cheese plates vs. the hot items) and how the meal is paced if there are multiple courses. Of course, the server needs to know where to find things like silverware, napkins and glasses. Oh – and what do you when the gentle sprinkle of rain becomes a downpour?
So, Emily and I figured it out. Some familiar faces came out to enjoy a bite to eat and we managed to make it through the night relatively unscathed. Last night, our second dynamic duo evening, we did even better helping The Cheese Traveler to enjoy one of the best Friday night cookouts of the season. And we had a great time doing it!
I’m in for the next two Friday nights beyond point I’ll be occupied with my own project. Check out the menu, which is updated weekly, and stop by and enjoy a tasty dinner al fresco. In addition to my cameo appearance(s), there will be guest chefs featured on 8/28 and 9/4. Come see us!
When was the last time you gave yourself permission to jump? Was it a long time ago? Do you remember that feeling of excitement mingled with fear? Did you wake up, in the morning as well as in the middle of the night, and immediately think about the opportunity which had seemingly fallen at your feet? And, did you finally make that leap because you knew that taking a risk was actually less risky than not, in terms of regret?
That’s where I am, people. I can’t divulge details or specifics, but I, along with the guy who has supported me my entire life (my brother), are putting together a business plan and hoping to turn what has always been a sweet dream into reality.
This is my 1,000th DelSo post. So much has changed in my life over the course of these one thousand blog posts, but I still remember the nervousness excitement I felt when I hit the Publish button for the very first time. Exhilarating!
I really do believe this blog milestone is the perfect precursor to what comes next. Stay tuned.
It looked like this starling.
Apologies in advance for this post’s title. I don’t intend it to convey any disrespect, it’s more my attempt to emotionally remove myself from an incident which I found to be upsetting. Here’s what happened…
Over the weekend, my son came across an injured bird in the lawn next to our house. The poor guy was lying in the grass on its stomach looking uncomfortable and afraid. Naturally, Jeter was very interested in the bird, although not in an aggressive way. I think he was just happy to finally get close to one of those “things” that tease him with their ability to flit about as they visit our front porch feeder.
Twice, Jeter got close to the bird and it responded by hopping away, inadvertently landing on its back both times. Each time, I ever so gently rolled it back into its seemingly preferred position of belly down, an act which didn’t cause any apparent additional distress. I brought the hose to the bird and dripped some water directly in its mouth, which it seemed to appreciate. Beyond that, I simply didn’t know what to do.
As expected, by the next morning the bird was dead. I considered what to do with it and concluded that digging a hole and burying it really wouldn’t be much better than simply picking it up and placing it in the trash. I mean, at this point, what was the difference? I’m okay with my decision on how to dispose of the bird, but I’m questioning my actions relating to what I did when the bird was suffering. To me, it seems unreasonable to bring a “wild” bird to a veterinarian for medical attention, but should I have taken it somewhere to be euthanized? I don’t think I could have “put it out of its misery” myself, but should I have tried to find a means to do that? What have you/would you have done in the same situation?
Despite the threat of tornadoes, a couple of the (formerly) McGuire’s girls and I dropped in for the weekly cookout at the DelSo’s own Cheese Traveler. What? You didn’t know they had a dinner menu of delectable, seasonal items available for dine in or take away? Please allow me to share some information about what we ordered from last night’s offerings.
We opened with the salt potatoes, a panzanella salad and a specially requested order of grilled asparagus. The potatoes and asparagus were both accompanied by a delicious aioli, while the panzanella was a medley of gorgeous greens, vegetables and capers tossed with chunks of perfectly grilled bread. We ordered a second one of those bad boys.
Jaclyn and I each had the #2: a tilldale burger: Shelburne cheddar, pancetta, and garlic aioli ($13), while Emily went with the #3 a lamb burger: chèvre, chutney, garlic aioli ($13). Juicy and beautifully cooked these burgers were exactly what three rather particular restaurant veterans were hoping for – simple, conscientiously sourced components put together for a dynamite casual meal.
The beverage selection has been thoughtfully curated and there were beers, wines and ciders available to enjoy on premise or to take home. The water that was served was thoughtfully flavored with mint – nice attention to detail.
The menu changes so check here for the week’s offerings.
See you there.
Photo by Quinn Lilly
After some improvements, including a general shoring up, new railings, pressure washing and a coat of stain, I’m smitten with my deck. On a recent evening, in an effort to combine my desire for stretching with my need to be home, I attempted some vinyasas al fresco with mixed results.
I found a yoga station on Pandora and set up my mat, giving myself adequate room to downward and upward dog to my heart’s content. What I failed to factor in, however, was the real dog, namely, Jeter. You’ve seen the videos of humans doing yoga with their pets? Well, the struggle is real and Jeter needs to work a bit on his flow. As for me, holding a pose takes on a whole other level of challenge when there’s an 85 lb. lab jumping on you.
There were three other impediments to my practice, namely Liam, Griffin & Quinn aka my sons. The amount of attention and refereeing they demanded was an irritating distraction to my home yoga attempt. I think in the future, I’ll limit my attempts to times when the guys are occupied with maiming video game characters instead of each other. They really didn’t respect my need for zen!
A half-assed home yoga practice will probably never replace a sweaty 90 minutes of Bikram, but I did do a fair amount of stretching in anticipation of spending 8+ hours on a bus the following day. Despite the challenges, I’ll definitely attempt this again.
How about you? Do you work out at home and, if so, any tips to share to avoid distraction?
My picture does NOT do the work justice. Apologies!
On Friday, despite Mother Nature’s attempt to disrupt my plans, I ventured down to Williamsburg, Brooklyn to attend my uber talented neighbor, Ken Ragsdale’s art show opening at the Front Room Gallery. As someone who doesn’t often attend gallery openings (read: hardly ever), I was a bit out of my element, and, as a person who doesn’t stray from Manhattan usually, I was definitely outside of my borough of reference. After consulting my Facebook friends regarding attire and Google maps for directions, we hit the road in the late afternoon. Next stop: The Hundred-Acre Wood!
View from the Roebling Tea Room on the first evening of spring.
The drive was uneventful, other than my imagination working overtime creating vivid scenarios about how the piece of Ken’s which ended up in the back of my wagon could be damaged during the trip to Brooklyn. Rear-end collision, encounter with a remarkable pothole resulting in the shattering of glass…
Safely parked around the corner from the gallery, wearing the suggested attire of skinny jeans, ankle boots and a cool hat, we met up with some of the Albany contingent and enjoyed a lite bite and a round of drinks at the Roebling Tea Room. My cocktail, an excellent old-fashioned with a clean, citrus element was wonderful, the small plates equally perfect.
The show was an absolute triumph. The work vividly expressed a time in the artist’s life and is truly stunning. The presence of so many familiar faces must have made the opening a dreamy blend of memories and modern day moments. So friggin cool. Can’t get to Brooklyn? Check out the group show opening Friday, 3/27/15 at the Albany International
Whatever Airport right in the 518.
*This post has nothing to do with sleeping in Brooklyn or the Beastie Boys. Nothing. I just love the sentiment. Here – watch the video anyway.
Filed under Albany, art, DelSo, drinking, Events, friends, Local, NYC, Recommendations, road trips, Spring
Last evening, after finally coming to terms with the fact that I wasn’t going to take a run, I decided to take a walk instead with Jeter. I made my usual offer to the boys to see if they cared to join me but was met by their usual response – no, thanks. I got myself warmly dressed and cued up a Pandora station of standards/vocal jazz and popped my earbuds in. Just as I reached for the doorknob, Quinn had a change of heart and decided to accompany me. Faster than I’ve ever seen him move, he had shoes and coat on and off we went.
There was something about walking in the foggy night that made for a cozy, not creepy experience. As we walked along Whitehall Road, we talked quietly, sharing my earbuds as we listened together to Nat King Cole and Ella Fitzgerald. Our conversation was filled with talk of which houses we admired, how challenging Jeter could be at times and how cool his new clip-on flashing light is. Funnily, I thought the light was shaped like a heart,* while Quinn thought it was a bone. He was correct but I was graciously given permission to think it was a heart if I wanted to. Sweet.
We stopped at his school’s primary grades playground and Quinn shared memories of playing there “years ago.” We talked about how in just a couple of years he’ll moving on to middle school and how fast time goes. As we neared the end of our walk, he found a series of puddles irresistible and made an attempt to leap them, with mixed success. His landing perfectly illustrated why so many of his pants have blown out knees. He is adorable.
Once home, after suggesting that we “do this again soon,” he continued to charm me with all that he had to say. Like: “What do you want to do? Watch a movie and sit on the couch eating ice cream?” and “Why does everything happen when you’re three? Grandma Sheila died when I was 3. I made a lot of my life decisions when I was three.”
I am so looking forward to our next walk.
*probably because of my love for the person who gave it to Jeter