2. After failing to find a parking space in front of Penzey’s Spices in Pittsburgh’s Strip District (it was a madhouse, with everyone buying their meats for the holidays), we waved good-bye to Pittsburgh, and crossed the bridge that would take us to our next destination, Louisville. Neither of us had been to Kentucky, so we were eager to see what Louisville had to offer, besides the Derby. But before that, we knew we had to stop for lunch. Our friend Heather recommended we stop at Haiku, Columbus’s best Japanese and Asian fusion restaurant. We were craving something healthful, and Haiku turned out to be the perfect spot. Poetic and balanced Vietnamese noodle soup, gently spiced with basil and very tender pieces of beef, and a trio of sushi (try with no soy sauce): saba (mackerel) so fresh you could taste the layer of fat and a little bit of the sea; unagi (freshwater eel [Paul’s fave]) with tangy sauce and crisp sesame seeds; and masago (flying fish roe), tiny beads of briny texture popping in your mouth. We left our haikus pinned to the walls, thanked our waitress and chef, and hopped back in the Kia, knowing we’d be ready for some Louisville bourbon and grub once we arrived.

Clockwise from top left: Casbah restaurant in the Shady Side neighborhood of Pittsburgh, Paul imbibes a Gin & Jamaican Ginger Beer, Steve sips on a New Fashioned, the view of the Cathedral of Learning from our hotel room.

1. Pittsburgh is a city of stunning vistas and steel bridges that reflect the sun’s setting rays with piercing golds, pinks, and oranges. Of course, these bridges possess a more utilitarian function: connecting the various neighborhoods that span the nexus of three rivers. Steve had never been to Pittsburgh, so visiting the Warhol Museum was at the top of his list and a must for all visitors to the former steel town. For Paul, Pittsburgh was a return after having lived there during the mid ’90s (grad school at Carnegie Mellon). He wanted to see if some of his favorite places to eat and shop were still around. Although the weather was bracingly gelid, we decided to spend two nights. So our first night, we hopped in the car and drove to Casbah, a seasonal Menu restaurant with hints of Middle Eastern and Northern African flavors. Paul had been here twelve years ago with his parents. He loved it then and wanted to see if his memory of succulent dishes and perfectly balanced cocktails would be triggered by the aromas of roasting meats and spirits mixed with citrus. We hit the jackpot. To get to the main dining room and bar, we had to walk through a gas-heated, enclosed patio, where many diners looked thrilled to be kept warm, protected from the zero-degree outdoors.  Once inside, the interior revealed a long bar, with glowing patrons lit by garlands of holiday lights hovering over the bartender. Across the bar, couples cooed and small parties sipped cocktails in the Moroccan-inspired long, pillowed lounge. We were seated, and Mixologist and sommelier Amanda Horn fixed us up with some of her delectable drinks: a New Fashioned (Knob Creek bourbon, Berentzen Apple liqueur, an apple cider reduction, and some muddled fruit); and a sublime Gin & Jamaican Ginger Beer (1 1/2 oz. Sapphire dry gin, 1/2 oz. Cointreau, 3 oz. ginger beer, splash of fresh-squeezed orange juice—build in ice-filled highball glass). For our meal, we decided to pair some wines with our food, to see what went best with what, so we opted for two wine flights: a red called “No Country for Old Wine” (French, Italian, and Portuguese); and a white called “Vino-Bianco-d’Italia,” which included a Gabriella Mayr Pas Dose Riserva  sparkler with lots of mineral dryness. The mushroon “fondue,” a thick stew of oyster and crimini mushrooms, burrata cheese, cipollini onions, and grilled sourdough bread, paired perfectly with the Italo Cescon Pinot Grigio, while the sumac-crusted sea scallops, cooked to perfection over a bed of low-smoke baba ghanoush, left us craving more. We followed these palate-sparking apps with a Chatham cod prepared with littleneck clams, Spanish chorizo, rapini, white beans, and an arugula pesto. The smoke in the chorizo’s pimentón was mild, so the dish paired lovingly with the Bila-Haut, a blend of Grenache, Syrah, and Carignan. The Portuguese wine, Animus, was delicate and spicily characterful and paired well with the Elysian Fields Farm lamb loin, served over creamy Yukon Gold potatoes, with lamb jus, broccoli raab, and fresh figs. The other wines, a Volpi Vobis Tua Barbera d’Asti, and the Manni Nössing Veltliner, were perfect on their own, the Veltliner being a favorite, perfumed with fruit and mint, tasting of lingering white peaches, with a slight mineral kick. Stuffed to the gills, we bid farewell to the lovely staff and Amanda, and headed back to the hotel to sleep off an exceptional dinner, and a beautiful dining experience. The next day would be leisurely, strolling the Warhol Museum, rummaging the gift shop, and deciding on our next destination.

3. When in Louisville (or anywhere in Kentucky for that matter) go for the bourbons. As soon as we arrived at our handsome hotel room at the Hyatt Regency, we looked for a restaurant that sounded perfect for two guys looking to toss back a few shots of rare bourbons. We discovered that the best place to do this in Louisville is at Bourbons Bistro, a bar and restaurant dedicated to the elixir known as what else . . . bourbon. With over 130 whiskeys on the bar shelf, you can attend a special meal with elements created using bourbon, create your own whiskey flight, or imbibe one of the cocktails on the seasonal American menu. Our lovely waitress Jennifer, along with Jason, master of the maison, guided us through the flight bar menu, and when the dust had settled, Steve opted for all bourbons: Old Fitzgerald 12-year (amazing, with a caramel finish), Old Fitzgerald Prime 86 (try to find it!), and an experimental Buffalo Trace 10-year with a Chardonnay finish. Paul opted for all ryes: Sazerac 18-year (now gracing our liquor shelf), Rittenhouse 21-year (a new favorite), and an A.H. Hirsch 21-year (very bourbony). We followed our flights with a Duck Confit Strudel stuffed with Fresh Goat Cheese, Baby Arugula, Caramelized Onions and Candied Chilies, finished with a Roasted Shallot, Sherry Cream Sauce (unfortunately there were no candied chilies so the chef substituted red peppers, which Paul cannot eat [so sad]); a deconstructed Caesar Salad; and a Port Wine and Dijon Mustard Braised Lamb Shank, accompanied with Mashed Potatoes and Sauteed Vegetables. Delicious. Once again, we made our way back to the hotel, feeling satisfied.


Waking up the next morning, we both looked at each other and said, “Let’s head to Old Town Wine & Spirits, which Jason and Jennifer both recommended, to try and nab some of the whiskeys we tried the night before, whiskeys we knew would not be available in NYC. We were lucky to find the Sazerac 18-year for a reasonable price, but the others were elusive. We chose instead a Four Roses Single Barrel (much cheaper than in NYC), and an Ancient Ancient Age, Jason’s favorite inexpensive sipper. We wanted to stay in Louisville another night, but an ice storm was brewing, and we wanted to get to Saint Louis before all hell froze over.

4. Paul had only been to Saint Louis about twenty-two years ago, and he only made it as far as the airport. He was determined to see some of the city, but the night proved to be too slippery to walk and way too dangerous to tool around by car. We therefore decided to dine at the hotel’s restaurant, 400 Olive. We were the only ones there since the weather was so horrible and it was two days before Christmas. Our young, chatty, and not-at-all-jaded waitress, Erin, chose some delicious food for us after Paul had a Woodford Reserve Manhattan made to his specs (2:1, with 2 dashes bitters). Smoked Trout “Cheesecake” (which unfortunately is no longer on the menu) proved to be delectable, as was a simple wedge salad and a bowl of Tuscan white bean soup with pancetta, pecorino romano, and swiss chard. A garlicky strip steak cooked to medium-rare perfection over a mushroom risotto and braised fennel was filling and comforting, perfect for a dreary icy evening.


In the morning, with a seven-hour drive to Kansas ahead of us, we breakfasted in the same restaurant, and loaded up on traditional, yet healthy morning fare. Steve was eager to get back home, a home he knew he might be seeing for the last time.

5. Well, we made it to Kansas on Christmas Eve, and Mom was sure glad to see us. The house was decorated to the nines: a Christmas tree sporting handmade ornaments that Steve and his sister Carol had crafted in their younger years, holiday wreaths on all the doors, pine boughs and candles on every table in every room. Then, two days later, like a flash, all the family arrived. Brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, cousins, boyfriends, and the newest additions, three babies. Steve’s sister Carol brought along Ethan, aged 15 months, unbelievably adorable, precocious, and highly musical (the kid just loves to dance!). Steve’s cousin Amy, and her husband Sean, brought their new twins, Brennon and Reyna, who at 3 months enjoyed doing what three-month-olds love doing, eating, sleeping, and . . . . But we weren’t just celebrating what may be our last Christmas on the farm, it was also Paul’s birthday. All he wanted for his birthday this year was a cake made by Steve (Steve is an exceptional baker – Paul’s note), after seeing the December 2008 Issue of Bon Appétit with a Devil’s Food Cake with Peppermint Frosting. Never has a cake taken so long to make (at least seven hours), but, it was the best cake Paul had ever tasted, and if you have a day to whip up devil’s food cake in four layers, dark chocolate ganache, white chocolate cream with peppermint, and peppermint marshmallow frosting, then by all means do it. Your taste buds will thank you for the rest of your cake-eating life.


After succulent meals filled with traditional holiday dishes such as roasted turkey, spiral ham, brisket with barbecue sauce and onions, green beans with shallots and hazelnuts, homemade cranberry relish, and pies galore, a few of us hopped in the car and headed for the Burger Station, a must for every road-food junky who ever hopped in a jalopy and decided to see this great nation by motor. We also invented a new cocktail for the holidays we dubbed the Occidental. Click here to read more about it and see more photos of the family at Christmas.

Above: Randy couldn’t wait to eat some fries; Right: Steve, Paul; Randy, Richard, Sean, and Amy at the Burger Station.

Above: Ethan and Mom; Right: Steve, putting the final touches on Paul’s birthday cake.

3700 Miles to Kansas and Back