First and foremost, I want to apologize for taking almost 2 weeks to post a new entry -- I am currently taking classes that eat up just about all of my free time and put me in bed by 9 PM every night, leaving a very small window for writing.
Anyways, during my absence I spent the long Labor Day Weekend with Alex, Andrew & Stef on my first ever visit to California. We split the weekend in San Diego between Pacific Beach and the downtown Gaslamp Quarter. But before I get to that diametric adventure, let me begin by eloquently griping about my travel experience.
I can't quite comprehend why any sane individual could actually claim to enjoy the "traveling" part of "traveling" -- the longer-than-ever-anticipated traffic-guaranteed crawl to the airport; the headachingly hectic terminal, full of rookies and old-schoolers clueless as to how to navigate the self check-in kiosks, thus successfully crushing any hope of making an expeditious sprint to the gate; the anxious wait in the winding security line, wondering the chances of making your flight at this point, only to always seem to be the ONE unassuming individual selected to be searched, frisked, questioned (more like manhandled) by the less-than-friendly (epic understatement) TSA agents; the dash to the gate only to find your flight has inevitably been delayed; the attempt to mask your disappointment by telling yourself "well at least now I can take a break and relax," but wait, you've suddenly become the sole fixation of a rowdy, shrieking, apparently stray 3 year old; the noticeably overweight man conveniently seated next to you on the flight, sweating more than any human should, taking up 2/3 of your personal space and denying you any clarity of thought due to his rancid odor (oh how pleasant life would be if only those little personal air vents spewed some air freshener at these inopportune moments); and finally, the lonely trek to baggage claim only to discover that after waiting 45 endless minutes, your and only your luggage has "most unfortunately gone missing, but no worries! It should be here tomorrow!"
 |
| Me awaiting my frisking from a less-than-friendly TSA agent |
Phew! Admittedly, while that rant fairly accurately describes the majority of my experiences at JFK in Queens, flying out of Tucson International over Labor Day wasn't all THAT bad. Though come to think of it, the Southwest Airlines agent printing my boarding pass did kick off the trip in a less-than-comfortable way with his *wink* and "How can I help you, babe?" greeting; and I did get yanked aside at security and told to stand legs spread so a TSA agent could ensure I had no explosives taped to my upper thigh while another ransacked my perfectly packed carry on; and my flight was delayed an hour and a half; and I did exhibit some seriously naive wishful thinking by hoping for a decent meal at a sit down airport restaurant where after making the tragic mistake of taking a more than 3 second break from eating my lousy skirt steak sandwich, our painfully rude waitress promptly swooped down upon our table with unprecedented speed, snatched my barely half-eaten meal and violently deposited it into the trashcan near our table, leaving me jaw-dropped and dumbfounded, still hungry, and confirming my decision to withhold her 20%; and to top it all off, I did find myself squirming in discomfort between the two older gentlemen seated on either side of me who found it perfectly acceptable to take turns firing shockingly lewd comments at me for the duration of the hour long flight in a highly awkward Michael Scott sort of way (among the milder of these statements included one of the guys suggesting I visit San Diego's nude beach where he apparently would love to watch me partake in beach volleyball....ew?). But in the end, I arrived in one piece, luggage intact and thoroughly enjoyed the weekend in San Diego so I guess I shouldn’t complain too much, right?
Now that that’s out of the way, what about the food?
 |
| The veggie omelet at Zanzibar Cafe...mmmmmmm |
Although we stayed at the Hilton Bayfront in the Gaslamp Quarter, we spent our days with Alex’s friend Matt and his girlfriend Kelsey (fellow transplanted East-Coasters) in Pacific Beach where they recently moved. Before we could kick off our San Diego dining experience, Kelsey led Alex and I on a daytime PB bar crawl—a fun way to check out a handful of her and Matt’s favorite haunts. After biking a few blocks to Garnet Ave., we began our crawl at the Tap Room where we enjoyed one of their over 40 beers on tap. It was here that Kelsey introduced me to the Snake Bite—a curious mix of hard cider and Guinness, which proved surprisingly light and very tasty. We next ventured to The Tavern on the Beach for their 3-3-3 Happy Hour (Mon-Fri $3 drafts, wells, and wine). Although the staff wasn’t terribly pleasant we appreciated the half-indoor half-outdoor scene and took our time waiting for Matt to get off work to join us at the next bar. With Matt in tow, we made our way to Cabo Cantina, excited to take advantage of their 2-for-1 Happy Hour, but not thrilled to share space with the unruly late afternoon crowd that had already swarmed the joint. A round of Patron Silver shots and several margaritas later, we were feeling good about our buzz and ready to eat. Choosing to forgo Cabo Cantina’s far-from-promising overpriced menu, we continued down Garnet, opting for apps at a rather seedy joint called Bub’s Dive Bar and Grill, happy to learn we’d made ½ price apps by 3 minutes! Our evening concluded with a dizzy bike ride back to Matt and Kelsey’s where a rowdy party ensued. On day two we linked up with Andrew and Stef and enjoyed brunch at Zanzibar Café, also on Garnet Ave. Here, Stef went with the Health Nut Omelet, Andrew tried the Breakfast Burrito and I settled on the Breakfast Panini, all of which were served with fresh fruit and yummy rosemary potatoes. Alex, on the other hand, feeling a bit nauseous from the prior day/night’s activities wasn’t too keen on the thought of solid food and instead, gave us all a chance to encounter Zanzibar’s lackluster, tasteless oatmeal. The group agreed the little café had an appealing menu, charming atmosphere, friendly staff, and more importantly, delicioussss raspberry mimosas.
 |
| Dinner at Chianti...delicious, but 2 1/2 hours? not worth it :/ |
After a beautiful day at the beach, we returned to our hotel in the Gaslamp to clean up for dinner. Unlike PB where sandals and bathing suits are suitable garb for nighttime festivities and paying more than $3 for a beer is shunned upon, the Gaslamp Quarter features beautiful women in short, tight dresses and handsomely attired men all anxious to spend $15 on a cocktail, a slight change of speed from the previous day’s pub crawl, but an enjoyable one at that. The six of us decided to browse 5th Ave. in search of a restaurant we could all agree on for a nice meal. After several blocks of examining menus and debating our options we all settled on a good Italian meal at Chianti, which describes itself as authentic Italian cuisine with a Mediterranean accent and a Tuscan flair. The group ordered a variety of items including the Truffle Risotto, Pollo Piccata, Costata Fiorentina (Grilled prime rib-eye in a Barolo wine brown sauce), Cernia alla Livornese (sautéed fresh grouper with tomato, onions and black olives) and the ravioli of the day, and agreed on two bottles of 2008 Toscolo Chianti. The food was delicious, reminiscent of the great Italian food we’re accustomed to at home on the East Coast, but the service was VERY slow. The meal took two and half hours and by the end we had all lost most of our motivation to spend the night on the town and soon found ourselves passed out in our rooms, but happily satisfied.
 |
| Gringo's isn't joking about the non-stop flowing mimosas... |
The next morning, we made the drive to Pacific Beach in search of a brunch spot. We did a little online research and decided to try a place called Gringo’s. Although not expecting Gringo’s to be packed with the mimosa chugging, Sunday morning-dressed up, college age rambunctious crowd it was, we were pleasantly surprised. After being informed of their $20 all you can eat buffet, all you can drink Mimosa deal, we all looked at each other nodding in agreement that we’d stumbled upon the perfect Sunday morning brunch. Two hours and a heavy buzz later, we walked back to our parking spot at CVS only to discover that my car had been towed………………….. under any other circumstance I probably would have been furious, but thanks to my tipsy state I found the situation entirely amusing and agreed to pay the $333 tow charge with no complaint (sucker). We spent the remainder of the day at a friend-of-a-friend’s place on the beach and Alex and I decided to call it at a night early. The next morning we concluded the vacation in San Diego in the Gaslamp with an enormous breakfast at Brian’s 24—a tightly packed, glorified diner with huge portions and delicious food. Wow, that entry was much longer than I had anticipated but its been building for 2 weeks so I suppose its warranted. This weekend its off to Tucson, home of my first blog entry—“Feast.” Hopefully this trip proves more successful than the last….
No comments:
Post a Comment