The bread at the Sofitel near O’Hare Airport: I did not expect to be eating this bread. I expected to to be making my connection to Cedar Rapids. But as soon as I saw that all flights to Cedar Rapids were canceled, I say down with my computer, went to Orbitz, and found a congenial hotel. I suspect that I was one of the few--four days later, when I was passing through O’Hare again, I stood in line with the coach of a college girls’ softball team on their way to Tucson. They had been camping out in the airport for four days, no baggage. Anyway, this bread was chewy and delicious, with lots of flavor and plenty of crust. Both the rolls and the baguettes were so good, I saved the leftovers overnight and ate them again in the morning.
The potatoes at Craftsteak in Manhattan: My daughter’s boyfriend Doug, who is in chef school, found this restaurant. It specializes in various types of steak, aged for various periods of time (28 days, 56 days, etc.) and the steaks were good. But the mashed potatoes and the rosti potatoes were unbelievably flavorful and done just right. The rosti potatoes were crisp on the outside and tender on the inside, and the mashed potatoes were not too light, not too moist, not too fluffy. Really delicious.
The French onion soup at the Valencia Hotel in San Diego: Emmental cheese seems to be the key. I ate French onion soup all over the country, and mostly is was pretty good--you know, you lick and bite the burned bits of cheese off the side of the bowl. But the soup at the Valencia (overlooking the pool and the Pacific) was the most flavorful and the most thickly encrusted.
The bread at Celestino’s in Pasadena: Couldn’t stop eating it, even after the swordfish came. Impossibly crusty, with big holes, perfect texture, and great flavor. Every time I dipped it in olive oil and took a bite, I stopped being able to hear or understand my friends at the table.
Vladimir: Vladimir was my limo driver in Toronto, with whom I had a lively discussion of 19th century Russian fiction. Vladimir told me that a new version of Taras Bulba is indeed being filmed in Ukraine and Russia, and should be out sometime in the next year or so.
Harborfront Kayaking Club: As our plane fled Toronto in front of the snowstorm, I was introduced to eighteen Torontonians, all of whom looked to be in their late sixties and early seventies. They were on their way to New Zealand for a month of hiking, kayaking, and canoeing. They were friendly and lively, and had been all over the world. Very enterprising! I am ready to join.
Audience questions: I want to thank everyone at my readings who asked a question. The questions are truly the most fun for me. My favorite question was the one in Santa Cruz: Is the incident related in my book, in which George W. Bush at Yale steals a keg from two freshmen and punches the smaller one in the stomach actually true? I cited my source. Although I was not present at the time, the unpunched freshman roommate of the punched one does report that it is true.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
