042616

big wheel

Friday 042216 I happened to be off work. My younger siblings, whom I recently made my triumphant return home to Baltimore from Chicago for, were in need of a ride and so were a few of their friends; Jumbo pretzels, blow up dolphins, overcoming fears, and watching children vomit filled the evening. It brings me such joy to spend time with these kids, whom in fact are quite mature, often so much so I forget neither of them were born before the Iraq war began. As adult as they may be, carnivals are places where we can all be children and scream the SpongeBob Squarepants theme song at a disgruntled woman exchanging cash for ride tickets.

white marsh carnival

patricia the goldfish

Speaking of adult behavior…

Drinking, Pt. I

(of many, I’m sure)

I used to be what I’m sure many would call a ‘heavy drinker’... Someone who falls asleep on the restroom floor of a diner, wipes the vomit off his face and finishes his meal. However, in the past year and a half or so, I’ve honestly enjoyed a nice glass of prosecco more than anything; even if I foresee myself drinking well past the witching hour, which these days doesn’t happen very often, it is usually where I begin. Can’t say the same for its more commonly referenced friend Champagne, I am simply not a huge fan.

bohigas, avec chicago

Now, before I go further into this, I am by absolutely no means an expert on any drink aside from Arizona Iced Tea, and probably Taro bubble tea. I find that the bubbles in champagne are (in my mind) closer to little pricks, where prosecco (again, up in lala-land) has bubbles that feel rounder. Maybe I’m just finding reasons to bash champagne because of my need to be a non-conformist (and of course it is simply THE most conformist of all sparkling wines). Cava is nice, though. The Bohigas I had at Avec last summer is probably my top choice for cava as it also happens to be the only one I've tried in the past year. My first encounter with the faint bubbles was at a restaurant I worked at in 2010 that no longer exists, so I’m free to mention the name; Vino Rosina. It was used in a steamed mussels dish and at the time I had no idea that it was even slightly carbonated, but I remember the scent produced being so intoxicating (in more ways than one)!  I was fresh out of culinary school the year before so no judgment.

And speaking of college, hey Smirnoff! Vodka straight up was nice in the past, I just don’t find it drinkable at this particular time in life. Vodka, in general, I feel I've simply overdone. 

Obviously, the goal isn't to get shit faced drunk anymore but it definitely has been in the past. 7am battles with the rising sun, nasty large plastic handles and Dunkin Donuts in tow. Vodka & soda, shot for shot out of two different cups, or no soda at all. On more than one occasion I have told people that my chewing gum was my chaser.

drunk me

I used to drink Dmitri and Skol when I first moved to Chicago. The flavor of such cheap grain alcohol made it so that I could just drink practically an entire bottle straight up. The taste was so close to the scent of hand sanitizer/ antiseptic/ poison that also served as the chaser, albeit a rather disgusting one, it simply did not taste like alcohol that people drink. Somehow I was fine with that.

drunk me stuff

In 2016, I’d much rather be drinking a dirty martini. For some reason, drinking any one type of liquor straight pretty much always grosses me out now, a combination of two or more / some sort of refinement makes it alright. I just don't like using alcohol like a drug anymore I guess.

Dirty martinis were always my go to cocktail in Chicago. Every now and again I’d head over to the bar that looked like somebodies grandmas Christmas Tree threw up all over a basement that doubled as a pizza restaurant, and order a few Absolut dirty martinis with blue cheese olives (only on $5 martini night of course).

These days I enjoy drinking more at a restaurant, or at least in a setting where there's food involved and the entire experience is not just about the alcohol; not only because it makes me feel a little better physically, but I am simply not a fan of just pounding liquor anymore. Some cocktails are nice, though. I used to hate them but lately I’ve found that I actually enjoy certain “thought out” cocktails. To me, they're reminiscent of a composed dish from the mind of a chef... a vodka soda seems more like the fast food equivalent of drinking.

I think the overall point that I'm realizing about myself is that it truly is the effort, thought, and preparation that make the difference for me. I'm not saying I haven't in the past (and quite recently) done shots out of a bottle, but the actual finished product that most "real" (non-industry) people see in upscale venues is just so much more appealing.

I have in the past enjoyed quite a few bottles of Cupcake prosecco. To me, it says, “let’s get ghetto fabulous tonight”, and I’m cool with that.

Prosecco is cool. I am telling you, it is a cool thing to drink. However in 2015, my new obsession was sparkling rose (as was most of the Midwest apparently). Flat Rose is fine, but obviously not as exciting, and it’s usually chilled, further indulging my need to practically freezer burn my throat. My absolute favorite sparkling Rose was a bottle I bought at Parachute to celebrate with a friend for her birthday last September.

salmon skin chicharron, za'atar, yogurt

chameh melon, green gochu, feta, burnt onion, shiso

confit albacore, raspberries

pork belly and mung bean pancake, kimchi, black garlic, hen egg, pineapple

pavlova

parachute whiskey sour & hibicus vermouth, gran classico, spicy bitters 

Recently, I’ve been drinking quite a bit of flat water on the line at work; I find it hydrates better, although it leaves me having to pee more, especially if we aren’t busy enough for me to just sweat out all the liquid instead. Not many trips to the bar after work these days, though. I often feel that driving 30+ minutes to and from work prevent me from fully immersing myself in the food and beverage world here in Baltimore.

As happy and grateful as I am to be here with my family, I can’t help but miss the time in my life where everything didn’t feel so… pressing. My life can only become busier and snowball from here, but knowing and accepting that doesn't change my longing for those evenings. “Barbie’s plastic dream house”, we called it. Sitting on a couch we didn’t pay for in our little attic apartment, dressed like Disgaea characters come to life, drinking sparkling wine and talking about music and fashion and art as the sun appeared only as a reminder that time still existed.