A few dark and stormy nights

[missroserose]

I find myself wondering if, now that we've decided to leave, Juneau's decided to shower us with as much of its awe-inspiring weather as it can muster. Literally. This is the third huge rainstorm in as many days. Usually they're fairly short-lived, or only over one spot, but we just drove all the way downtown, had dinner, and came all the way back, and the whole time it was pelting down rain along the entire way.

Audi with heated seats for the win. (Not that I'm going to mind not needing those in the future.)

It was a quiet weekend, for all the general stress caused by the premonition of large-scale upsets. Friday night I had a lot of nervous energy, but an evening spent dancing and chatting with Andy helped quite a bit. Saturday we mostly hung around the house (the awful weather did nothing to encourage us to do otherwise), and I did a lot of cleaning. Sunday I got the grocery shopping done and we did laundry, which is always something of a mammoth task as both Brian and I tend to put it off until we're essentially laundering our entire wardrobes at once. I think (as my mother used to warn me would happen when I was younger and hated housework, and I never believed) the cleaning helped me stay calm and centered, which was a nice feeling to have. (Sadly, it doesn't seem to have lasted, as last night I was having a lot of trouble sleeping. Hopefully that won't be the case tonight as well - tea and bath ahoy!)

I don't think I ever got around to mentioning on here that about a week before getting married, Monica introduced me to a friend of hers at the Viking - a real, live Scotsman named Franky (he was even wearing a kilt when we met). He works on one of the cruise ships that shows up here once a week, and he's quite a sweetheart, so he and Brian and I have taken to hanging out on Sundays when he's in port. Last week he invited us for a meal aboard the ship, and holy crow - they feed you like royalty on those boats. I had some lovely roast lamb, Brian had a seven-ounce filet mignon (and that was the petite cut), and Franky had a ribeye that very nearly overflowed his plate. The side dishes were impressive, too; the asparagus was perfectly cooked with a rich butter sauce, and the sauteed mushrooms divine.

One of the things that I noticed really made the meal for me, however, was the presentation. I don't just mean the way it looked (although each dish was quite artistically designed and I applaud them for it), but the fact that each course was just the right size. The soup course was a tiny cup of a very rich and tasty bisque; the beefsteak-tomato salad I ordered was three (large) slices of tomato with vinegarette and associated garnish; the main course varied from medium to huge (depending on what you ordered) with side dishes that were just the right size to savor without filling up on them; and the dessert, while perhaps a bit larger than I would have picked, was delicious enough to be worth making the extra room for. I hadn't even realized how much the general restaurant trend of "serve gigantic portions rather than lowering prices" irks me until I sat down at a place that did it right - I can't tell you how lovely it was to be able to enjoy each course without wondering where I was going to find room for the next, and to be pleasantly full at the end of the meal without feeling like I was going to burst. (I suppose I can see the advantage of the gigantic-portion view from a marketing standpoint, but really, I would think that they would make more on the appetizers and desserts they could sell to a non-overstuffed clientele than the measly few dollars extra they can charge for a huge plate.)

Incidentally, I would be remiss in my praise if I didn't also describe the apéritif I ordered from the bar. Given the size of the cocktail selection, I couldn't very well let the opportunity to try something completely new slip by, so I ordered something called a "Starboard Peach Martini", which, according to the menu, was made from Grey Goose L'Orange, creme de peaches, pink grapefruit juice, and passion fruit syrup. It was quite possibly the girliest drink I have ever ordered at a bar, but here's the thing - it was excellent. Sweet, yes, but far from cloying or overpowering; fruity, but not artificially so; not harsh or boozy tasting at all; and a pleasant orange-pink color. Combine that with the uber-classy presentation - in a single-serving shaker, poured over a sugared orange peel - and I didn't feel like I was in Juneau anymore. (The most complicated cocktail I've ever ordered at the Viking was a cosmopolitan, which got me well vodka topped with that lethal red mix...served in a beer glass. Seriously.) Once we're settled down again I'm going to have to track down some of those ingredients and see if I can divine the magic behind it.

We're having Franky over here for dinner next week; we'll have to make him something super-nice in return. Fortunately he's one of the least judgmental people I've ever met (I can see why he and Monica get along), so as long as we have some good beer and something reasonably delicious on the menu I have a feeling he'll enjoy himself just as much as we did.

Comments

[moonwick.livejournal.com]

In a beer glass? Now that's awesome.

In time after you move though you might come to miss that sort of rustic touch... :)

[roseneko.livejournal.com]

You know, I know several people who love Alaska precisely because it's laid-back and unpretentious, and I can certainly appreciate those qualities. But frankly, when I've had nothing but laid-back and unpretentious for most of my life, I'm willing to accept a touch of pretension now and again if it also comes with a dose of quality and a heaping tablespoon of class. 'Cos I don't know about you, but I get kinda tired of ordering gin and tonics after a while. :)

[moonwick.livejournal.com]

Yeah! It's nice to live a relaxed, casual life, but sometimes you've just gotta dress up and get classy. :)