Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Life in a big city

I joke that the reason I keep up with real estate news in Houston is because I want to know when the bulldozers come my way. Today I noticed that may very well be a reality soon.
I came home from the gym and found a Post-It note frrom my landlord stuck to my door. On it was his phone number and a note asking me to call him. I hated these little note from him.
Monday before last he came around with memos informing us fire insurance inspections would be Wednesday. I scrambled to tidy up, but I was too busy working to do anything major.
The inspection went ok I guess. Then last Monday I was informed that my apartment
failed its inspection. This time I had more free time to clean the place up.
The inspectors returned Friday armed with a camera and a clipboard. Rumors swirled that my landlord planned to sell the place. I figured as much, but I wanted confirmation before I jumped to conclusions.
I called my landlord this afternoon to see what he wanted. Normally I would have waited, but I needed to talk to him. My window unit has leaked all over and it no longer cools the apartment.
I'll admit I'm not the best at keeping house, but I try my damndest to keep this place tidy. My landlord and I have been at odds over the cleanliness of the apartment. That was, at least to him, part of the reason the inspection failed.
My landlord informed me that he planned to sell the building. According to him the new owner had some concerns about the unit. Mainly the mildew and mold in my bathroom. As much as tried to keep my calm, but I lost it.
I explained that I couldn't afford to rent a Rug Doctor or that I couldn't afford a can of Killz to paint over the mold. In so many words I told him that I have done my part by keeping the place neat and clean. I told him it was his turn to do his part.
We also discussed how long I had before I had to get out. My landlord said that I should stay put because it would be a while before he closed the deal on the property. He also openly admitted in a round about way he was taking advantage of my paying weekly.
Since I started getting paid weekly, I made an arrangement to send a rent check weekly. In hindsight I realize what a bad idea this was. My landlord thinks this will look good to the new owner so that I can go on staying here. After seven years, I think maybe it's time to go.
I moved in here in July of 2005 after looking at some less desirable locations. My job at the time afforded me the luxury of an efficiency apartment. Commuting from my parents' house was no longer feasible and the location was ideal. I  could walk to the light rail platform and several bus stops were in close proximity.
Having shops, clubs, and restaurants in walking distance was an added bonus. I love my apartment don't get me wrong, but living inside The Loop has its drawbacks. There are dozens of apartments like mine and they all have their problems. Some nowhere near as bad as mine.
My air conditioner has leaked every summer. The first I knew of it was when my downstairs neighbor complained to the landlord. Each time the weather gets really cold, my closets sweat. The bathroom and living areas do too, but not as bad as the closets. Damp Rid has helped alleviate this problem somewhat.
My landlord asked me to clean the bathroom ceiling, but it hasn't worked in the past. Bleach can only do so much. Getting a new floor sounds like something that may not happen for a while or not at all. My problem now is where do I go?
Rent inside The Loop has crept up considerably since I've moved here. My job is currently walking distance from home, but I know if I want to change careers I'll need transportation.
It's so frustrating not knowing what's going to happen next. Honestly I don't want to stick around to find out. Ideally I'd like to get out of here, but I don't know that I can afford a new place.
My goal was to get a vehicle, change careers, and find another place. That may have to change though if I want to move out. I hate change, but if it's for my personal well being, I have to start soon. Follow up: I came home from work Thursday afternoon to find a note taped to my door that I had 30 days to vacate my apartment.

















Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Goodbye to an Old Friend

Over the last couple of years, there was speculation that HEB would build a Montrose location. With the opening of Buffalo Market on Bissonet, it was almost inevitable a Montrose could be next.
The location in question was directly across from Fiesta on Dunlavy and West Alabama. I read real eatate blogs and kept up with the latest develooments.
Many people apeculated what the fate of Fiesta across the street would be. I knew they would probably stay in business. No one store has ever really closed because its competition opened across the street.
After all this was the Fieata I shopped at when I lived in the dorms at the University of St. Thomas. It was my home grocery store, even after we were moved into alternate housing in the wake of teopical srorm Allison.
To think that my favorite grocery store would be gone for good was unfathomable. Fiesta had been an integral part of the community for more than 20 years. Before that it had been an Apple Tree and had started out as a Weingartens some 50 years ago.
My first trip to Fiesta was when I moved into the dorms. I was in need of something to eat and the cafeteria was closed for the weekend. I remembered seeing the store on my way to move in.
The August heat was unbearable, but I needed to eat. The walk there wasn't as long as I thought it might be. I walked in the front door and did a double take. The interior of the store looked a lot like the Food King in Texas City.
In fact the layout was eerily similar. I wandered the store and familiarized myself with it. The place i finally found muself was the deli counter. I remember how helpful the staff were. They were kind enough to sell me half of a cooked chicken. I grabbed a tub of potato salad and a soda and ate it back at the dorms.
Later on when I moved into an on-campus apartment, I bought my groceries at that Fieata. Everyone was always helpful and friendly. After college I moved home, but when I moved back I shopped there occasionally.
I got busy with work and found myself ahopping at a Kroger closer to home. Sometimes I'd get things I couldn't find at other stores, but I got away from shopping there.
The store had its own unique character as do most grocery stores in Montrose. There was almost a mom and pop feel to that Fieata. I couldn't think of any other place I could grocery shop to the oldies. The produce and international departments always had aomething exotic. I think that was the first place I ever saw fava beans and treacle tart.
HEB bought the historic apartment complex across the street, but I held out hope for Fiesta. If other grocery chains could stand up to their threat, they could too. I kept up  with all the coverage and even attended the grand opening at HEB.
Then I read that developers had their eye on the Fiesta property. My heart sank because I knew how much that store meant to the neighborhood. I hoped it was another ugly rumor, but I soon found  that it was not.
Firsr came news that the property had been sold. Then came word that a mixed-use decelopment would replace my favorite Fiesta. I felt like I'd been punched in the gut, but the news they would close really hurt.
I missed my chance to say goodbye, but I recently stopped by to take post mortem photos. The rumors are that Party City will open for the holidays and the shopping center and Fiesta will come down in February.
The one ray of hope is that Fiesta will return to Montroae again some day. Rumor has it that they would open where Randalls Flagship  store sits now at th corner of South Shepherd and Westheimer. I am hopeful theae rumors will come true.










Monday, August 15, 2011

On the Bubble

My trip may have been over, but I extended my vacation by at least a few hours. The flight home stopped in Chicago and New Orleans before it reached Houston. I chose it because I didn’t want to stop and change planes although I may try that next time. As much as I enjoyed my flight, I wasn’t looking forward to being back in Houston. The weather on the East Coast was at least bearable in spite of the heat. I’d heard rumors that there’d been a bad heat wave while I was gone, and they were confirmed when I stepped out to the curb.
My family had come to the airport to greet me. After eating mostly junk food and drinking soda all day, I was starved. I wanted to go to the Greek diner back in my neighborhood, or even the latest Tex Mex restaurant that opened before I left. No, my mom insisted on Katz’s. I was disappointed because the one in Houston was more or less a TGI Friday marauding as a delicatessen. Not only that, I’d eaten the real thing in Manhattan, and this was the last place I wanted to go. Sadly the food had hardly ever been inconsistent, and the service was great if you travel in a large pack, which I do not.
I noticed as I recovered from my vacation that maybe, just maybe, I’d outgrown Houston, or vice versa. Here I am in my mid thirties and I’m still stuck in retail hell. The job was only meant to hold me over until I found something in the broadcast field. The only problem is I didn’t really know where to begin to look. I tried one place, but they demanded that I have transportation so that I could move freely between downtown and the Woodlands. It also didn’t really pay as much as what I’d been making slinging sausage.
Travel was my incentive for working, but what did I have to show for time in retail hell? The catalog I received from my job listed jewelry and a clock radio among the items for those who’d worked five years for the company. I chose the flashlight. Really? All I have to show for efforts is a flashlight? Sure I’m content with the fact that I have a decent apartment and the bare essentials, but there’s times that I want more.
Traveling made me realize there’s more to the world than the four walls that surround me. I could see why so many people flocked to New York, and why a friend of mine thought it was the best place in the world. Four o’ clock last call at the bars, a 24/7 transit system, and sidewalks that ran for miles. A person could get used to that quickly and I know I did.
When I was a younger more idealistic person, I pictured myself living in a big city like New York. Houston has been a great training ground for that, but I realize that I have a lot more to learn. Before I left like I said I was content, but that’s changed since I’ve been back. If anything I feel restless and I’m ready to travel again. Had I been more irresponsible, I quite possibly might have stayed in New York.
The thing is that I doubt myself too much. I questioned my ability to maintain a steady job meanwhile keeping up with the rent and the utilities in a larger city. If I can’t, the last thing I want to do is tuck tail and run back to Houston or god forbid, Texas City. Houston has been a great stepping stone, but the question is where do I go next? What do I do now that I’ve seen a little bit of the world?
My ultimate goal is to get that broadcast job, but resources down here are limited as far as I can tell. I could start in a smaller market and work my way up, but let’s face it. I’m old in terms of what employers want. Even at work I realize if I stay with the company, I don’t know that I can keep up with the pace. Working in a meat market is a young man’s game. There’s only so much my body can take from lifting heavy boxes and standing on my feet all day long.
Even though I reached my breaking point, before I went on vacation, I feel like I’m on the bubble. There’s been a lot of BS since I’ve gotten back, and I don’t know how much longer I hang. I get tired of childish drama like punishing the whole group for the mistakes of a few. Hell I was on vacation and they still punished me by pushing my shift up an hour. Every year they make me fill out this survey and every year I respond the same way to that same question about whether or not I often think about working for another company.
I get the feeling that no matter what I do will ever be enough to satisfy the people I work for. These people are under tremendous pressure from the corporate office down, and it feels like I’m their damn it doll for them to take all their frustrations out on. Going through a remodel hasn’t helped the situation either. I’m still catching hell from the customers, people who’ve shopped here daily if not weekly since I’ve been there. Even regular customers who are always glad to see me grumble when they look around at the new digs.
I’ve tried every way of looking at the situation, and for the first time, I feel like there’s no way out. If I jump ship now, where do I go, what do I do? My only other problem is if I stay, how much longer before my managers have had enough? Another dilemma at work is if I speak up, I get yelled at, and if I don’t say anything, I still get yelled at. Enough is enough and I’m ready to take that next step, whatever it is, to find a better station in life. Not sure how to go about it, but I know I’ll find a way out of it.

Where I ate in New York

Gramercy Café 184 3rd Ave. New York, NY 10003 www.gramercycafenyc.com
The first place I ate in New York. The menu has everything from soup to salad, burgers to sandwiches, and pasta entrees. There was dessert too, but I passed on my visit. I chose the pasta which came with a complimentary glass of wine. A sign in the window also advertised a draft beer and hamburger special, something I’ll definitely look into next time I go.

Katz’s Delicatessen 205 East Houston New York, NY 10002 katzsdelicatessen.com
I’ve seen it on dozens of travel shows and it was even featured in the film When Harry Met Sally. My original destination was Russ and Daughters, a couple of doors before, but somehow I found myself here. Grab a ticket and either have a seat to be waited on, or belly up to the counter. With each order comes a free sample of the sandwich filling. None of that slimy luncheon meat here. All their meats are cured in house. The pickles were the best, but probably not such a good idea so early in the morning.

Mumbles Bistro 179 3rd Ave. New York, NY 10003 www.mumblesnyc.com
Great little bistro on the corner of 17th Street and 3rd Ave. There’s patio seating and bar service, but I chose a seat by the window. Lots of great options on the menu. I hadn’t had fish, and I went with the sea bass with lobster fricassee. Food was perfect, the wine was great, and the service wasn’t bad either. I hadn’t dined by candlelight in a long time and that was nice.

Minetta Tavern 113 McDougal St. New York, NY 10012 www.minettatavernny.com
A step through the curtain is a step into a different time. The service was top notch and the food was excellent. Definitely going to try their dinner. I went for brunch and had the ham in hay. According to their website, Minetta was originally opened in 1927, and I’m glad they didn’t change a thing. Remember to dress to impress and tip well.

Coffee Shop 29 Union Square New York, NY 10003 thecoffeeshopnyc.com
I didn’t know what exactly I’d gotten myself into when I walked into this place, but I was glad I stopped in. Even though the brunch crowd was long gone, the restaurant was still fairly busy for a Sunday evening. The menu revealed that this is a Latin fusion restaurant with some diner favorites thrown in too. Brunch earlier that day included feijoada, a Brazilian stew. There was also the Media Noche, a pressed Cuban sandwich with fries. The Dijon mustard threw me off when they brought me my Media Noche, but it wasn’t half bad when I tried it on my sandwich.

Gray’s Papaya 402 Avenue of the Americas New York, NY100111 www.papayaking.com
Where better to eat after the bars let out than a hot dog joint, right? No frills, no hype here. Five bucks gets you two dogs and a drink. Skip the fountain and have an in house made fruit drink. The papaya drink was delicious and there’s several other tropical options available as well
.
Highliner Diner 210 10th Ave. New York, NY 10011
I figured if this place was open in what apparently had been a legendary dining spot at one time, it couldn’t be that bad. Turns out I was wrong, but I’ll be a little forgiving here. After I was served, one of the staff revealed to me that they’d only been open a week. Ok so they were working the kinks out of the menu. There came a point in my meal where I felt like I was a guinea pig and my dinner was some lab experiment gone horribly wrong. The chicken didn’t taste as slow roasted as had been touted, and the gravy was a big miss. Another disappointment is that there weren’t many options to choose from. I knew I should have walked out when I had the chance, but I’ll try anything once. Happy birthday to me, right?

Toasties 25 Union Square W. New York, NY 10003 toastiesny.com
My last meal in New York City. Hard for me to wrap that around my head still, but it was well worth a stop in. The pastries left a little to be desired, but other than that, I had no complaints. I had the House Special, a grilled pastrami and corned beef with Swiss, Russian dressing, and cole slaw. Like I said, the essence of New York between two slices of bread. There’s other options available, but this one stuck out at me. I read on their website they accept online orders and they deliver too, but I enjoyed my picnic on the steps of Union Square.

In our Nation's Capitol

I still remember my first visit to Washington, DC back in high school. How in awe I was of seeing our nation’s capitol and actually seeing the monuments in person. My second visit I got a chance to see some of the city on my own, and there were still monuments that were either proposed or under construction. I hoped to go back and see what the final product was, but a lot happened in that nearly twenty-year span since I last visited.
My goal for this visit was to see what I missed last time, and to visit those places that were now complete. I had an itinerary for this visit and I intended to stick to it. Four days was plenty of time to get everything checked off. On my last visit I spent much of my time at the Smithsonian Institution museums and the monuments. I stuck to Union Station for shopping and food, and the Metro red line because it got me where I needed to go.
About the only thing I stuck to this time was the Metro red line. That carried me from my hotel into downtown DC. This time I started at the Post Office Pavilion I went mostly to get a feel for the lay of the land and to see if it had changed any. Since there wasn’t a lot that had changed, I took the elevator up to the clock tower observatory. On the way up, I stopped and saw the bells that once hung in the tower.
From the tower I could see the Capitol, most of the monuments, the National Mall, and most of the surrounding area. I walked first to the Natural History Museum because I wanted to see the Hope Diamond again. This time the large blue stone had a new temporary setting and was now on display instead of in its vault. I walked toward the Washington Monument on my way to the World War II Memorial.
The first thing that struck me is that the reflecting pool had been dug up for restoration. I expected to see the Washington and Lincoln monuments shimmering in the pool, but not this time. The WWII Memorial was a fitting tribute not only the people fought and died in battle, but to those states and territories those brave men and women came from. Each side commemorated both theaters of battle. The one thing that disconcerted me about the monument were some of the tourists who soaked their feet in the fountain in the middle.
Washington, DC had changed a lot. I never saw anyone soaking their feet let alone wading in the Reflecting Pool. Before I’d only heard about the double decker bus tours in New York. Now they’d expanded their business to the District of Columbia. The last time I was here, the only company I saw was Tourmobile, the open-air tram that ran between Capitol Hill, National Mall, the monuments, and Arlington Cemetery.
There were more changes too. Metro, the subway system, was larger than I remember. Color coded lines ran between downtown into the surrounding suburbs. As much as I walked around the city, I still hadn’t grasped the concept of which direction streets ran. Traffic circles also didn’t help to ease my confusion either. I made it as far as DuPont Circle before I tucked tail and ran back to Chinatown for dinner.
Back at my hotel I planned out my next day. I started with the Smithsonian Castle to get my bearings This was part of the collection I don’t remember seeing before, and inside it was interesting to say the least. The first thing I did is I paid my respects to James Smithson who is entombed just inside the front door. I wandered around the castle and marveled at its collections. In the back garden, I wandered downstairs into the Arthur M. Sackler Gallery, which housed artwork, pottery, and other artifacts from across Asia.
Next door was the National Gallery of African Art, and then upstairs was the Freer Museum. I wandered through the galleries and took in the artwork before I moved on. Just up the mall was the National Museum of the American Indian. This was one of the galleries proposed, but not yet built on my last visit. I’d always been fascinated by Native American lore and their rituals.
The museum was a comprehensive look at the various tribes of the United States. Included were their rituals, their artifacts, their origins, and their struggles. What I liked about the museum is that it also included the tribes that once lived in the Chesapeake Bay region as well. For an added bonus, the program director stood in the middle of the rotunda and demonstrated on his drum the various chants and beats used in different rituals and ceremonies. I wanted to see it all over again, but there were other things I wanted to see.
The last time I was here I got caught up in the Museum of American History. I saw it top to bottom, but this time there was one new exhibit I wanted to see. Before I went, I stopped at the third floor and saw the pop culture exhibits. I saw Edith and Archie Bunker’s chairs, and the ruby slippers last time.
Part of the exhibit was a car from the Dumbo ride at Disneyland in California, Michael Jackson’s, hat, and the original Muppets from the Henson’s first TV show. I saw Charlie McCarthy, and original the Cat Woman suit. New this visit were Tony Hawk’s skateboard, Farrah Fawcett’s orange bikini, and one of Eddie Van Halen’s guitars. I rushed through the exhibit in order to get downstairs to see something I’d recently read about.
Down on the first floor in the science exhibits sits Julia Child’s kitchen. Growing up I remember her warbling voice explaining how to make different kinds of French dishes. Video clips of some of her cooking shows played in a continuous loop. Part of the exhibit were all the kitchen gadgets, utensils, and cooking vessels she’d acquired over the years. The one artifact that stood out most was the large mortar and pestle her husband bought her when they lived in France.
I marveled at how many utensils and gadgets she’d acquired. To think that before me sat the kitchen where Julia Child entertained her friends and family. I was curious about the three-legged chairs they brought back with them from Norway. The kitchen was designed by Paul Child to compliment his wife’s height so that she could work comfortably. I found myself rapt by Child’s cooking demonstrations that I had to force myself to step away.
Back out on the street I got away from the Mall and went in search of the Spy Museum. I always liked movies about espionage and international intrigue. In high school I remember vividly the Aldrich Ames case and what a big story that was when it broke. On my way I passed Ford’s Theater, where Lincoln was shot. Close by was the house where he died from his injuries.
I found the Spy Museum across the street from the National Portrait Gallery up the road from Madame Tussaud’s. The place screamed tourist trap, but I couldn’t resist. There was a short wait, but it was worth it. My favorite aspect of the whole espionage game is the technology involved. Everything from listening devices right down to the cameras.
Before I knew it I was caught up in the museum and found myself looking at not only the technology, but the history. Espionage was an important tool in war time to gather information on the enemy. Spies were employed to infiltrate the other side and retrieve important information.
The museum ended with espionage in popular culture and before I knew it, I was in the gift shop. I avoided buying anything and hit the street again. Tonight I went out for dinner and took in the DC nightlife. In spite of a little rain, I made the best of the evening.
Thursday I started at the Smithsonian Postal Museum. This is something I completely overlooked the last time I was here. Even though the exhibition area was small, there was a lot of history and information packed into those galleries. I walked back across the street to Union Station and took the red line to the National Zoo.
When I first planned my trip to New York, I wanted to go to the Bronx Zoo to see the panda bears. Ever since I was a kid, I was always fascinated by China and its ancient culture. I remember I saw the pandas on TV, but I never thought that I’d actually see one up close. The National Zoo I knew had pandas, so I waited until I got to DC to see them. Getting there was as always, an adventure.
The zoo was on the far side of DC, and I soon found out it rested on a hill. I didn’t care how far or how much I had to climb. This was something I’d been wanting to see for a long time. The zoo was at the top of the hill and I was never happier to see it. Because of the heat, not many of the animals were out. About the only ones enjoying the heat were the elephants, who had a large area where they could roam.
The outdoor panda enclose was empty, but I knew there had to be an indoor observation area. After seeing the other exhibits, I finally found the indoor panda exhibit. They looked to be as exhausted as me and the other tourists. Still this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I didn’t mind the journey getting here. Someday I’d like to go to China and see these animals in a more natural setting. Despite all the minor setbacks I’d had on this trip, this made it worth all the while here.
I had one day left in DC and I planned to make the most of it. In the morning, I set out again for Union Station and boarded the Tourmobile tram there. For the price it was well worth it not having to walk to all those monuments. When I was here last time, the FDR and Korean War Veterans’ Memorials were still in one stage or another of development. I remembered the tour guides pointed out their future locations on my last visit.
Tourmobile is the most bang for your buck in DC. Two days for $32 and hop on/hop off anywhere is worth it. The trams pick up at Union Station, circle around the Capitol, and then from there they stop at the Smithsonian museums. One goes to Arlington Cemetery while another goes to the opposite side of the National Mall. I found the tour guides entertaining as they brought their own unique spin to the narration.
My first stop was the FDR Memorial, and that covered the span of his unprecedented three terms in office. It was Roosevelt who carried the nation out of the Great Depression and saw them through World War II. Pullout quotes and bronze sculptures highlighted each of his terms from the creation of the Works Progress Administration to the attack on Pearl Harbor.
I was here more for my grandma, who grew up during the Roosevelt administration. She remembered hearing FDR on the radio and seeing him in person in Galveston as a little girl. I knew that if she were here she’d be soaking it all in just as I was. The one part of the memorial that stuck out at me was FDR in a wheelchair, something that had been for the most part, covered up during his presidency. Roosevelt was crippled by polio and had been unable to walk for many years.
I walked along the Tidal Basin path up to the bookstore where a crudely made wheelchair was on display. It was fashioned from a kitchen chair that had been mounted on wheels. I bought a couple of postcards and boarded the tram to the Korean War Veterans’ Memorial. When I visited last, I went to the Vietnam War Memorial, and I found this just as if not more moving than that one.
Stainless steel sculptures of soldiers as they trod across the junipers appear as if they are coming out of the forest. They have on raincoats, a testament to the conditions in which they fought. The black granite walls are engraved with the faces of the soldiers and the men they fought against in order to keep Korea free from communism. Above the fountain is a wall with the raised words Freedom is Not Free on it. I took a moment to reflect on the sacrifice these men made in order to keep both Koreans and Americans free.
I moved on from there and took a moment to visit the Lincoln Monument, another one I’d seen the last time. The place teemed with tourists, and I decided if I wanted to go, I could wait until later. I got back on the tram and headed back toward the Mall because I wanted to see the Newseum next. That was the last thing on my itinerary, but again the journey there was more than the destination.
As the tour made its way up Pennsylvania Avenue, Metro PD had the intersection blocked. Here I was in DC and stuck in traffic for the first time ever. I didn’t know what was going on until the driver announced that it was a motorcade. All of us on the tram readied our cameras as the motorcade whizzed by us. Seeing that completed my trip.
I got off the tram at the National Gallery of Art and walked across the street to the Newseum. In college I majored in communications with a concentration in radio and TV. I didn’t care what its detractors said, I wanted to see the Newseum and judge for myself.
The tour started on the lower level and then from there went up to the eighth floor in a glass elevator. I soaked up the history of what I had hoped would someday be my profession. The award winning photography and the correlation between the media, the government, and the public’s mistrust of both at times was a good starting point.
I knew the place was a bit touristy, but the expanse of the building and its collections were noteworthy. There’s the mangled broadcast tower from atop the World Trade Center, which encompasses reporters accounts of being there as it happened, and the headlines from papers around the world on that fateful day a decade ago. There’s also an exhibit on Hurricane Katrina, the other big story of the last decade. Again reporters recount their experiences as they covered the emerging tragedy.
From there the museum covers the history of the news from the invention of the printing press to advances in technology. From radio to TV and now social media, the Newseum makes an effort to cover all aspects of reporting. Included are several theaters that cover different aspects of history and how the media played a role in each.
As I made my way downstairs through the exhibits, my afternoon was almost gone. In a matter of hours, I’d be back on a plane to Houston. Back to reality, back to the daily grind. As much as I wanted to experience the 4D theater, I skipped it in favor of going back to my room where I packed up and got ready to go. If I come back to DC, I’d like to bring my family along so that they can experience it for themselves.
I have to say that my travels have no doubt left an indelible impression on me. One week wasn’t enough to see the East Coast, but I did my best. I eased my way back into reality on the plane ride home the next day. My flight stopped in Chicago and New Orleans on the way home, and by the time I reached Houston, I was as ready as I could be to get back to life as I knew it before my vacation.

Taking a bite out of the Big Apple

So much has been written and said about New York that I really don’t know where to begin. I was apprehensive as I waited to check in for my flight. There was no turning back now. My flight had been booked, and my hotel room awaited me in New York. Getting there was a journey in itself. After checking my over packed bag at the front, there was the TSA screening process. I thought almost three hours was too soon, but the lines were long at Hobby, an airport I hadn’t flown from in ten years.
Surprisingly the lines moved fast and the process wasn’t really all that bad. As I sat and waited for my flight, I cracked open The Lost City of Z, David Gramm’s account of his quest to find what happened to Fawcett, who disappeared into the Amazon never to return again. I didn’t expect to find any lost cities, but I hoped to at least return in order to tell everyone of my adventures or lack there of in New York.
Time passed quickly and the waiting area filled with others on their way to Newark or points beyond. I could have flown into La Guardia, but Southwest had no direct flights there. For now I planned to fly in at Liberty International and hop a shuttle into Manhattan. On the trip to the airport that morning, I remember commenting to my mom about how big the thunderheads were. As I lined up for my flight, they had become ominous dark clouds.
As our plane taxied into the gate, the skies opened up and delayed us further. Finally we were able to board our flight and after another delay, I was on my way. I napped a little, read some more, listened to my MP3 player and made small talk with my fellow passengers. Before long, I had arrived in Newark and it was time to kick this adventure into high gear.
I grabbed my suitcase, still damp from sitting out on the tarmac during the rain delay. In spite of that, I dragged it out to the front where I found my way to a waiting shuttle. The first thing I noticed is I’d arrived during rush hour, but traffic wasn’t so bad until the Holland Tunnel. I stepped off the shuttle at Bryant Park because it was closest to Midtown East, where I’d be staying.
The second thing I learned is that I’d arrived in the city during the cab driver shift change. Getting a taxi would be impossible I thought, but I walked up to Park Avenue and got a car to take me to my hotel. Surprisingly, my mouth wasn’t agape in awe that I was in New York City. It was just like being in any other city that I’d visited.
I looked around online for a good hotel to stay in New York. Somewhere that was affordable, but still close to everything. More or less a place to lay my head because I knew I probably wouldn’t be in my room very much. I looked at places near the airports, in the boroughs, but nothing stuck out at me. Then I looked at rooms in Manhattan and I found some rates a little outrageous.
As I narrowed down my choices, I looked into hostels and even the YMCA. Finally I found a good compromise in the tourist hotel. What it amounted to is I had a room to myself and there was a shared bathroom down the hall. I looked further into the concept and found it was something I could live with. Finally I booked my room at the Hotel 17 in Midtown East. It appeared from the pictures to be on a quiet street.
Nearby were Gramercy, the Villages, SoHo, Hell’s Kitchen, and the Lower East Side. Union Square was a short walk away and there was a major subway hub there. I could go to uptown, downtown, Brooklyn, or Queens. When I finally arrived at my hotel, it was everything that I expected from reviews I read on the internet.
The unassuming building stood eight stories high and very narrow. Inside the lobby was small, just big enough to access the elevator and the stairwell. I checked in and found my way to my room on the sixth floor. The elevator was barely big enough for two people, but it served its purpose. I found my room down the hall to the left. Sure enough there were two bathrooms on the left and all the rooms were to the left.
My room was small enough that I could have fit it into my efficiency apartment back home. It was deep and narrow with a bed, a window unit, and a wall unit that included a desk, shelves, and a place to hang garments. I put down my bags and decided that I would visit the Rubin Museum of Art, which housed Tibetan and Buddhist artifacts. The added bonus is that Friday nights were free, and it was only a short walk from my hotel.
What I didn’t realize until later is that the streets that run east to west usually change direction between Broadway and Fifth. I walked up and down East 17th Street looking for an address that was actually on West 17th. Luckily a waiter at the nearby Gramercy CafĂ© were able to point me in the right direction.
While I was there I sat and had something to eat since all I’d had were cheese crackers and a soda on the plane. Not only did I get a great pasta dish for a reasonable amount of money, I also got a complimentary glass of wine with my meal. I was about to set out again when the skies above opened and unleashed a torrent of rain.
As I sat and finished my meal, I watched as water filled the gutters. I wanted badly to leave, but the wait staff were kind enough to let me ride the storm out there. Finally I was on my way and this time in the right direction. I found the museum near 7th Ave. Luckily they were open late on Fridays and I was able to see the collection.
The best way to see the collection was to take the elevator up to the sixth floor and follow the spiral staircases down from there. Each floor was dedicated to different aspects of Buddhism, but I also found other religions represented there as well. One exhibit was dedicated to pilgrimages in different religions from Christianity to Islam. I was fascinated by the collection and I found it hard to pull myself away from there.
Finally I found myself back on the ground floor. The cafĂ© was busy with those having cocktails or waiting to see the film that was about to start. That theme was pilgrimages, and that night’s selection was The Razor’s Edge. I chose to skip it this time and move on to the next thing. Walking out to 7th Ave., I looked to my right and I could see bright lights ahead of me. I headed in that direction and soon found myself at Madison Square Garden and Penn Plaza.
Before long I’d reached the bright lights and found myself in the middle of Times Square. The atmosphere was carnival like is the best I can describe it. Restaurants and shops surrounded the perimeter of the square. In the middle were pedestrian plazas with the streets crisscrossing in different directions. I found every chain restaurant and store imaginable in one place. Electronic billboards turned the night sky into broad daylight, and the smells from the various street vendors wafted through the air.
I wanted badly to turn and run the other direction. My goal here was to avoid doing too many touristy things. Then I stopped myself and I realized I was at the Crossroads of the World. I chose not to go into any of the stores because I wasn’t here to shop. My goal was to explore the city and get a feel for it so that I knew what do expect for the next time I visited. I ducked into the Toys ‘R’ Us to get a glimpse of the Ferris Wheel, and while I was there I snapped a couple of photographs.
Back on the street I found the smell from the food vendors permeated every corner of the square. Barkers on the street hocked tickets for an upcoming comedy show, and each of them had a unique way to get people’s attention. Some gave out passes for the topless bars while others handed out different forms of literature. I strolled along and took it all in as I walked around the square.
In the restaurants lines formed for tables, and tourists were weighted down from goods they’d found at the various stores. What I found hard to believe is that it was eleven o’ clock at night and this place was still crowded. I snapped a few photos, but I didn’t make myself obvious by carrying a camera around my neck. Instead I had a digital point and shoot tucked into my bag, and I could stick that in my front pocket. After wandering around for a couple of hours, I hopped on the subway back to Union Square and walked back to my room.
Day one in New York was in the books, and I had a couple of places in mind that I wanted to see, but I wasn’t sure how this would work. After I took care of my morning routine when I woke up the next day, I hit the street again. I went in search of a place that specialized in smoked salmon for breakfast, but instead found myself at the front door of Katz’s Delicatessen.
Back in Houston there is a Katz Deli, but this was the real deal. This place had been open for over a hundred twenty years. I already knew what I wanted before I walked in. The door person handed me a ticket and I walked up to the sandwich counter to start my order. If I wanted to, I could have gotten waiter service, but this was more convenient. At each station my ticket was marked and then I found a seat. The temptation was there to sit at the table where Harry met Sally, but I chose to sit at the back of the room and observe.
Saturday morning business was brisk and already I felt like a local. The food was great and it was perfect for the day I had planned. Originally I wanted to see the galleries at Dumbo in Brooklyn and visit the Museum of the Moving Image in Queens. My plans went awry somewhere and I ended up where I wanted to, but nowhere near the galleries.
I scoped out the area and found myself between the Manhattan and Brooklyn Bridges. Since I’d messed up, I made the best of it. I climbed the stairs to the walkway and trekked across the Brooklyn Bridge. The weather was still nice out since it was about midmorning. The first thing I learned is if the pathway is marked for pedestrians on one side and the other is marked for bicycles, stay in the pedestrian lane no matter what.
I enjoyed my walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. To my right was uptown Manhattan and to my left was downtown. I stopped and snapped pictures of the towers and took in the sights. The green speck to my left I soon realized was the Statue of Liberty, and the building under construction ahead of me was the Freedom Tower.
Finally I reached the terminus of the Brooklyn Bridge Promenade and landed at City Hall Park. Queens was a ways away, and I wasn’t sure if I would make it in time to see the exhibits at the Museum of the Moving Image. Instead I looked up Central Park to see how far the train was to get there. A couple of blocks up was where I could grab the C train to my destination. As I wandered around, I realized that I was on Church Street, and then I looked up again and realized Ground Zero wasn’t that far away.
I had already shot my itinerary for the day, so I walked ahead and soon reached the Freedom Tower. As I approached the site, I heard the roar of a crowd about a block away. The streets were lined with charter buses from around the state and the number of people in red shirts increased. As I walked around the perimeter of the Freedom Tower, I realized that these were members of the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers. They’d gathered to rally for a new contract.
I was about to go through the Financial District and see Wall Street, but then I turned around. Central Park is where I wanted to go because I knew at least there I’d find some shade. I also knew that I could find water there seeing as how my bottle was almost empty. The subway station was hot and I was never happier to be on the train, which was at least air conditioned. I realized at 14th Street I’d jumped on the wrong train and transferred to the one that would take me to my destination.
The one thing I enjoyed about the subway were the mosaics in the stations. At the stop where I got off there were dinosaurs and other creatures indicating I was at the American Museum of Natural History stop. From there the park was just across the street. A jazz trio played as I walked through the park and tipped them a couple of bucks. Mostly I wandered through the park and took in the different attractions.
My favorite was the Belvedere Castle, which resembled something out of a fairy tale. I also enjoyed walking through the Ramble and seeing the sailboats on the Conservatory Water. The best view of the city was from around the reservoir. The Bethesda Fountain I didn’t see until the next day, but I loved it. It was nothing to see people there posing for their wedding pictures. One thing I’ll say about Central Park is that most of the water fountains worked, and I was able to stay hydrated throughout my visit.
Saturday night I hit the town, starting with dinner close to my hotel. I wandered down 7th Ave. until I reached Christopher Street. My first stop was the Stonewall Inn, to see where the gay rights movement was born. On the paneled walls hung pictures from that night some forty years ago. I soaked up the atmosphere a little and wandered around the village and took in the nightlife while I was there.
Sunday I wanted to see Washington Square Park as I knew it was close by. I mostly wanted to get pictures of the arch, but on the way I wandered through the campus of New York University. Chess players gathered at the game tables and engaged in a friendly game or two. I regret that I didn’t stop and learn a few moves. For sure I’ll pack a lunch next time and sit down to learn about the game.
I walked through Greenwich Village and searched for a place to eat. There were lots of different places, but for some reason, one place in particular stuck out to me. There was a restaurant on the corner that looked like it had been there for quite some time. Inside I got top notch service and a wonderful meal.
I went back to my room later and freshened up for another night on the town. That night I dined at a place on Union Square. Then I went back to the West Village and took in more of the nightlife. I wandered out of the bars sometime after last call, my stomach grumbling. Luckily I’d spotted a Gray’s earlier on 6th Ave. that was open all night. For about five bucks, my hunger was satisfied and I walked back to my room.
For my birthday the next day, I wanted to see the Empire State Building. I figured I’m here and I should at least do one touristy thing while I’m here. For about twenty bucks, I rode to the 86th floor observatory and looked out over the city. From here I could see almost entirely around the city. This made the trip here worth it, and I hoped that someday I would get to return.
I shopped at Macy’s Herald Square just to say I went. Then I decided I’d have dinner someplace simple. I chose a diner in Chelsea that I’d heard about once before, but I found that it recently closed and then opened under a new name. Sadly the food was a big disappointment, but hopefully that will change in the future.
I soon found myself back at my hotel and reluctantly packed my bags. My last night in town and I wanted to do something a little different. I stopped in at one place that I wanted look into and found a dance club in the basement, and a piano bar up on the street level. My last night in New York was spent sitting around the piano enjoying the music and the camaraderie with the locals.
I wandered back to my hotel and took in New York one last time. Back at Union Square, I ducked into an all-night deli and grabbed a bite. I carried my spoils back to the steps of the square and looked around one last time. The steaming sculpture in front of me intrigued me as I ate my sandwich. I didn’t know what it meant exactly, but I found myself looking at the filling. Inside was the essence of New York between two slices of bread. Pastrami, corned beef, and slaw pressed together in one sandwich.
Here were all these people sandwiched together on this island and they somehow managed to get along. At least from what I could tell while I was there. On the square people skateboarded, they raced their gas powered remote controlled cars, or they just took in the city as I’d been doing. I made my way back to my room, checked out, and got a cab. As the driver made his way to Penn Station, I hated to leave the city. I had a feeling though that I’d be back again soon.

The Time Has Come

Summer has descended upon the city, this time with a vengeance. The heat is even unbearable for a veteran of many warm summers like myself. To compound the misery the store where I work has been under renovation for the last six months. I didn’t mind so much at first when it began. The scraping up of floors and demolition didn’t faze me. However, as the remodel ramped up, it became less and less bearable.
The customers grumbled at first, but they were ok with it. They understood that in order to stay competitive, the store had to change to meet changing consumer needs. I even joked with some customers that every diva needs a good facelift every ten years. As the remodel wore on, the joke quickly grew old.
Customers’ grumbling soon grew into a more vocal discord. Some even went so far as to place the blame on the employees, there were others who were less understanding. My poor co-manager took the brunt of a nearly twenty minute tirade from one customer. Most agreed that maybe the store should have closed during the remodel, but to do so would have been illogical.
I knew that I had vacation time coming up, and that my rich uncle would be giving me a fat check back for my hard work from the previous year. A week off from work in this city wasn’t enough to heal from the verbal assault and daily abuse I’d suffered at the hands of the customers. It was time to get away. The question remained where though? I’d seen enough of Texas to the point that I was burned out. I’d seen the Alamo and the state capitol enough times already.
My thirty-fifth birthday was around the corner and I wanted to do something special this year. Enough lazing around the apartment and exploring the city for a week. I’d done enough of that for the last four years. In the past I’d blogged about my survival skills that I’d acquired living in Houston. The time had come to put those skills to the test in another city.
One place I’d been wanting to go for years was New York. Most of what I’d learned about the city had been culled from movies, TV shows, magazine articles, and books. It was time to experience the city for myself. Nothing could really prepare me for what lay ahead, but I did what I could to at least know what I was up against.
I also wanted to go back to Washington, DC, a city I hadn’t visited in over fifteen years. The last time I went, Clinton was in the White House and I was just out of high school. There were monuments and museums that had been planned or were in the building process when I left, and I wanted to see what the final product looked like. I also wanted to see the city on my own without the constraints of having to meet back with my family at an appointed time.
There was a lot of uncertainty on my part because I wasn’t sure if I could do it or not. New York is a huge city and I wasn’t sure how to tackle it. DC wasn’t so much big as it was spread out. I studied maps and guide books for months ahead of my trip, but I knew that they weren’t enough to prepare me for what lay ahead.
At first I was reluctant to announce my plans. Everyone always has opinions or tips about where I should or shouldn’t go. I didn’t want to hear that because I wanted to do this on my own. The other reason is I didn’t want people to worry about me as much as I appreciated that they cared about me. As I prepared more for my trip, my excitement was too much to contain. I let it leak out to close friends, regular customers, and then as the time grew closer, I announced my plans to my family and friends.
There were many who were excited for me surprisingly enough. Some were glad that I was going to get away. The remodel grew more intense as the months dragged on. It wasn’t enough the hammering and sawing. The contractors really poured it on with jackhammers and concrete saws without so much as a concern for those who had to work in the conditions without comfort of ear or eye protection. The closer I got to my vacation time, the closer I got to my breaking point. Finally, the time came and I was never happier to be away from Houston and everything that I’d grown comfortable with.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Alcohol Munchies

Late night in Houston has found me once again at the club. A few too many doubles brings on a bad case of alcohol munchies. I’m not necessarily starving so much as I’d like to have something to make the walk home a little more bearable. There’s lots of late-night dining options here in the inner loop. I’ve been to at least four of them and the experience at each of them is unique.
My first after club dining experience was at Charlie’s, long since closed, but still very vivid in my mind. Another time was at the House of Pies at 3112 Kirby, known locally as House of Guys. I found that to be the most fun dining experience because it’s busy, it’s loud, and sometimes a little raucous because of the patrons who’ve overindulged. The wait staff was always patient, kind, and sometimes a little perturbed, but still a lot of fun.
Even though there’s almost always a wait for a table at peak times, it’s worth it. Just remember if you’re not ordering, you’re still going to have to pay for that seat. Most of the action’s in the front dining room, formerly the smoking area. It’s nothing to see six or seven people jammed into a booth, and the people sitting elbow to elbow at the counter. The back dining room is more subdued, a little quieter, probably more conducive to studying or just clearing your head after a crazy night.
House of Pies is that one constant along the ever evolving Kirby Drive. It’s the one restaurant that’s refused to leave its circa 1980 time warp, and that’s a good thing. Even with all the development that’s cropped up around it, the restaurant refuses to fade away. The food is legendary, and some of the stories surrounding the restaurant even more so. There’s huge platters of food if the munchies are really bad, or just a piece of pie or cake with coffee to settle the stomach.
Once I moved to Houston, I found out about other late-night spots. Most recently I went to Chapultepec Lupita at 813Richmond Avenue. I sat in the patio area with my friends and someone had cranked up the jukebox. There was a drunken girl dancing around to Michael Jackson as she prepared to make more selections. She mentioned that Wild Horses was the Rolling Stones only greatest song, and I gave her a go to hell look. That led to a discussion at the table about some of the Stones’ other great hits as we dined on chips and salsa.
I’m an omnivore, but it’s still worth noting the veggie chimichanga and the veggie burger. On this visit I ordered a fully loaded burrito and a hibiscus tea. The burrito was way better than one I’d had at another local spot a few months earlier. The prices aren’t too astronomical, and there’s plenty to choose from on the menu. Breakfast also is available, but it isn’t served until four in the morning.
As we ate I realized that the jukebox had gone silent. Then as we were about to get up and leave, someone had selected Latin music. I remembered looking at the jukebox in the past and the selection varied from classic rock to Latin to country. Maybe next time I come I’ll bring some change and rock out the jukebox a little.
One of the other late night spots I’ve enjoyed is Bibas Ones a Meal at 612 Westheimer. Originally located at 607 West Gray, they recently opened on Westheimer a block west of Katz’s. I always liked the West Gray location, but it was good to have them a little closer to home now. There’s plenty of the traditional options to choose from like Gyros, but my favorite are the calzones and the pizzas.
The last time I went I split a pizza with my friends. I ordered the Aphrodite, which was mostly meat. It was great, right up there with a couple of other local places I’d tried before. The one thing I enjoyed about Bibas is the service. They’re always prompt, even when I’m on my own, and glasses almost never go empty. There’s almost never a wait for a table, and even when there is one, it isn’t long.
Even with the new location on Westheimer, the Bibas on Gray is still going strong. I remember the Gray location was always busy, the service a little slow, but hopefully that’s changed. This location opened in what had once been Rouge restaurant and the Plant House. With this location there’s even room for a banquet space upstairs without disrupting the service downstairs. What’s more is the HPD substation is next door, so you’ll feel safe because officers are always in and out of the place.
East of Bibas is Katz’s Deli – no relation to the one in New York – so don’t expect anyone faking orgasms here. What you’ll find is chain restaurant dĂ©cor as this is the second Katz’s in Texas. The original location is in Austin with a satellite location in the Woodlands. Others have told me the Woodlands spot isn’t as good as this one, and I’ve read that the one in Austin is just as popular.
This location when I moved to Houston was nothing more than an empty shell. It had sat exposed to the elements for years it appeared. I read that it once housed Tila’s, which now sits on the curve on South Shepherd. Ten years ago Katz’s Deli took over the spot and it’s since remained a staple along lower Westheimer. Word of mouth has kept this place going, and hopefully it’ll be here to stay.
This is a New York style deli and the sandwiches are the place to start. There’s the downtown size, which is huge, but still manageable, but the uptown might require a to go box. Besides sandwiches there’s entrees and even pasta. The one thing that separates this deli from others is the fact that they have a full bar, and there’s milkshakes on the menu.
Most notable is the cheesecake shake, which is huge like the sandwiches. Depending on what time you visit, it can be split between a group of friends, or it’s enough for one person. This place is especially busy after the clubs let out, and a table can be hard to come by. Expect to wait up to ten minutes or better at peak times, but once you’re seated, service is prompt unless of course you’re by yourself.
I have had some great dining experiences in the past at Katz’s, even by myself. Lately though I’ve noticed the service has declined a little. If you’re at a table by yourself, don’t be surprised if you’re largely ignored. I went by myself around the beginning of August and the service was terrible. First I was seated in a corner of the dining room near the restroom hallway. On top of that my waiter appeared randomly, and then again when it was time to settle the bill. I hate when servers stand around and expect a good tip for bad service.
Other than that one experience, the service has been fairly consistent. I can say that no matter what I order, the food’s always good. Whether it be just a hot dog, or a full entrĂ©e, it’s always warm. Another must try on the menu is the fried pickles appetizer. I haven’t had the cocktails, but I’ve heard they’re good and strong. The one thing on the menu I haven’t tried is their breakfast, but the waffles looked really good on one visit.
After I’ve eaten, there’s a heavy feeling on my stomach and my wallet feels a little lighter. Walking home I don’t weave as much or list to one side the way I did when I walked into the place. The night air is thick with humidity, but the walk does me some good in that it gives me time to think. I can look back on all that’s happened now and go home with a clear conscience. The bed beckons me home, and the sounds of the urban jungle subside once I’m safely locked in my apartment. There’s more to do and see, but for the time being, it’s time to catch a nap and rest up for the next adventure.

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Out with the old . .

French restaurant brings to mind dishes I can’t pronounce, snooty chefs, and rude wait staff. Recently SoVino at 507 Westheimer changed its name to CafĂ© Moustache and advertised that it was now a French restaurant. My knowledge of French Cuisine was limited to what Julia Child brought me every week on Channel 8 locally. I’d had snippets or bastardizations of French food in the past, but now I wanted to try the real thing.
Walking into the restaurant I had an idea that this might be out of my comfort zone, but I was wrong. The dim lighting, the cavernous dining room, the candles on the table were all familiar to me. There was a barbecue joint like this back home in Texas City, but the food was a little more down scale than this. A server wanted to sit me at a table, but after my last dining experience, I didn’t want to be seated at a table in some forgotten corner of the dining room. Instead I chose to sit at the bar.
I’ve found that when dining by myself, there’s no in between in service. I either get really great prompt service, or I get ignored. Tonight it was the former. Monday night was slow at the restaurant. Maybe one or two other tables in the whole place were busy, and I didn’t see the need to burden the one server with one more table. I was brought the dinner menu, the wine list, and the special menu.
It was explained to me by my server that I could get three courses for $35, and I had three options per course. The bonus here was that a portion of that money would go toward the Houston Food Bank. I remember an Italian restaurant back home had escargot on the menu, but it was never available, and that’s what I chose as my first course.
For my second course, there was chicken Provencal – been there done that – trout – no thanks. My eyes went straight for the duck with cabernet cherries in port wine demi glace . I chose that as my second course. Crème Brule I’d had once before, so I went for the chocolate instead. I figured that since I was in a French restaurant, I should at least try some wine, but I was confused as to what I should order.
My server suggested the wine flights. What it amounted to was three different wines to compliment each course. She suggested reds, and that’s what I went with. Each wine paired perfectly with each course. The escargot reminded me texturally of mushrooms, the butter decadent, and I had to soak some up with my baguette. I had to restrain myself from just taking the sauce and pouring it out all over the bread.
With the escargot out of the way, I could cleanse my pallet with bread and water. The same routine was repeated with my second course. I was poured my wine, and a matter of minutes later, I received the main course. With the dish came mushroom risotto and vegetables, but they were an afterthought.
Duck I’d never tried, and I wasn’t sure what to expect. It was fatty, the sauce out of this world. I’d never had anything this rich in my life and I couldn’t get enough. I ignored my side dishes until I couldn’t stand it anymore. The mushroom risotto was perfect, and the vegetables weren’t overdone. For once I actually got fresh vegetables and not the frozen reheated kind served in most restaurants. I felt like I’d truly spoiled myself this time.
I savored each bite, fought with some of the tougher parts of the duck, but it was all worth it in the end. The merlot was strong, but the pairing didn’t overpower the flavor of the port wine demi glace or the cabernet cherries. With mushroom risotto and the vegetables, the flavor was a little off putting, but easy to overlook.
I’d ordered dessert not sure what chocolat por de crème was. All I knew is it had chocolate in it, which is my drug. I’d had chocolate in many different forms before, but I wasn’t sure what I’d gotten myself into until my dish came out to me. I saw sliced strawberries, crème fresh, and underneath was the chocolate. For a minute I was apprehensive, but then I dug right in.
All these sensations came rushing to me all at once. There was the strawberries for one. They were tart and sweet all at once. Then the crème, and finally the chocolate. It was so rich I thought I’d pass out. The wine that went with this course was mild and light so that it didn’t overwhelm the flavor of the dish. For a moment I felt the urge to do something childish like wipe the dish out with my finger and lick it off, but again I held back. This was after all, a fine dining restaurant.
I felt a little light headed. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the rush of all these new flavors to the brain. Either way I nearly food comatose, and I hadn’t even seen the bill yet. In fact I didn’t care how much it cost this time. I got my money’s worth for a change. No reheated frozen ingredients here. Everything was fresh and tasteful. The atmosphere was an added bonus, but the lighting was almost too dim for me to read my menu at one point.
I had to take a moment and drink some more water to make sure I could walk again after this meal. If I ever travel to France, I hope my experience will be similar to the one I had at Moustache. I did look over the menu and I was intrigued by the hamburger as one of the offerings. If I do go back, it’ll be at the top of my must try list.
As I step back out onto the street, I look around and see more opportunities for another fine dining experience. Of course, that’ll be sometime down the road. Hopefully these restaurants will be around once I have the money again. I see Japanese, Indian, and pizza just within a one block radius of Moustache.
As I walk along lower Westheimer, the neon from Katz’s Deli and the Ruggles Restaurant light up the street. Within the next couple of years, there’s talk of a sushi restaurant going into the former Felix Mexican Restaurant, a Spanish style building at Westheimer and Grant.
It’ll compete with Bibas to the east, and Aladdin to the west. Further up the road, the former Tower Theater and most recently Hollywood Video, is a planned Tex Mex restaurant. It’ll be a venture of former Houston Press restaurant critic Robb Walsh. Just two more places I’ll have to try if and when they do come to fruition.
These are uncertain times economically speaking, and I’m not pessimistic as much as I am realistic. La Strada, a long-time Montrose staple at Taft and Westheimer, shuttered and sat empty for months until restaurateur Tony Vallone took it over. Recently it reopened as Caffe Bello and generating all sorts of buzz. Not so much because it’s Vallone, but because he’s set up shop down the road from three of his former protĂ©gĂ©s. I imagine for Vallone it’s a chance to start over again after selling off some of his restaurants to Tillman Fertitta of Landry’s.
Houston is a constant work in progress from its neighborhoods to its roads right down to its restaurant scene. Moustache is an example of that. One concept didn’t work, so instead of shuttering, they shifted gears. It remains to be seen how the new concept will work out, but judging from the amount of cars in the lot on weekends, it appears to still be popular. My hope is that these restaurants down lower Westheimer will hold on long enough for me to try them at least once maybe twice even.

Foraging for Food 7/29/2010

I am restless once again in the asphalt jungle. Summer is in full swing and it’s hotter than – well, it’s hot. The weekly routine of lunch at the local fast food restaurant has grown tiresome. I want something more, something that doesn’t come on a plastic tray in a paper wrapper. Something that would fill me up, but also something that wouldn’t cost a lot of money either.
Each day I ride by or walk by dozens of local eateries down on lower Westheimer. I’ve watched them come and go, and I felt like now was the time to give it a try. The reason I wanted to try it is because Washington Avenue in the Heights has transformed from a run-down string of dives, used car lots, and abandoned buildings into the trendy place to be. The plague of townhouses that sprouted up around the corridor has now spawned a big box apocalypse of sorts.
First Target opened in the Heights, then Kroger expanded its South Shepherd location to accommodate the newcomers. Now HEB threatens to encroach on the Montrose, and Wal-Mart looms on the horizon. In spite of efforts to push them back, them and even Whole Foods want to cash in on the trend while they still can.
When I moved to Montrose the first time over ten years ago, the neighborhood was in transition. Gone were the discos and the gay bars, and eventually even Mary’s Lounge faded into the collective memory of the old timers. The bars and discos were replaced with strip malls and trendy restaurants. It’s a virtual United Nations along the street before reaching the crossroads at Montrose and Westheimer. There’s cuisine ranging from English to Italian, even Greek, Mediterranean and even New York. I started at Belgium.
At 106 Westheimer sits Jeanine’s Bistro. This is where my journey begins as I attempt to eat my way through the Montrose, or at least lower Westheimer. I have to admit I have my apprehensions about eating at some of these places because I worry too much about the impact it’ll have on my pocketbook. Then again I have to figure at least once a week - or even once a month – can’t do too much harm.
Most restaurants on lower Westheimer now offer lunch whereas before they were dinner and weekends only. I really had no idea what to expect walking into Jeanine’s. It sat at the end of a strip center at the confluence of Neartown, Montrose, and Midtown. I was seated immediately and brought a menu and poured a glass of water. Sometimes I walk into a restaurant and ask to see the menu before I eat, but not this time.
Instead I opened the menu and found exactly what I expected, but I was also surprised at the selection. The menu opened with soups, salads, and sandwiches – the three things I could get at almost every other chain sandwich shop. I flipped to the dinner section, and as expected, it was steep. Included were chicken, filet mignon, the usual fare. Then I flipped back to the front of the menu and stopped. There was a lunch special for $10.95. Included in the deal were soup or salad, an entrĂ©e, and a dessert.
I figured I couldn’t go wrong and asked my server about the options available My choices on this visit were a house salad or watercress soup, bacon quiche, and a caramelized apple crepe. I’d had salad for dinner the night before, so I went with the soup. For a drink I got iced tea, but there were beer and wine selections available. Maybe if I went back at dinner, I might look into the alcohol selection, but it was too hot for that when I went.
The server brought me bread and iced tea followed by the soup. It was only a cup, but it was flavorful, maybe a little too salty, but I could overlook it. There was watercress in each bite, and the bread helped in cleaning out the cup. I cleansed my palette with water and waited for the entrée. Even though it took some time, the wait was worth it.
The server brought me a generous portion layered with bacon, bell peppers, and I think cheese too. On the plate was some tomato sauce, but it proved to be more or less an afterthought. My focus was on this enormous wedge of quiche. The only time I found the tomato sauce helped was in digesting the crust. I was full, but I remembered dessert was on its way, so I stopped with the bread. Even though the crust was a little chewy, it wasn’t dried out in the center.
I had some more water, some more tea, and waited for the dessert. By this point I salivated at the thought of that caramelized apple crepe. When it arrived at my table, it was smaller than I expected, but the right portion for this meal. Where most places would drown the desert with vanilla ice cream, this was served with just a dollop. It didn’t overpower the dish, and it melted nicely into the butter, cinnamon, and crepe.
I even scooped the juices off the plate with my iced tea spoon rather than pouring it down my gullet. Some of it was stuck to the plate, and I wanted to get at it badly, but decided against it. I calculated the bill in my head to be around twelve bucks, which was close. With the tip, tax and drink, the final bill came out to $15.86.
I walked out feeling like I’d robbed the bank because it was so much for so little. On my way out, I had to avoid getting run over because of people trying to back out of the tiny parking lot. The only other gripe I had about the place was accessibility from the street even though I had no problem getting there on foot.
If you’re driving up Westheimer, it isn’t like you can pull into the parking lot from that part of the street. The other thing is it takes some turns around the block to get to Jeanine’s from Bagby because it is one way outbound. Going eastbound on Westheimer, swing a left at Brazos, make a left onto Tuam, and then a left onto Bagby and the shopping center’s on the right. Another way to get there would be to hang a left at Taft, a right at Avondale, and then a right at Bagby.
Jeanine’s is open from 11am to 3pm for lunch, and then from 5pm to 11pm for dinner during the week. On weekends it’s a half hour later for lunch and dinner. The atmosphere was nice with pop music in French playing softly on the sound system. I went around 1pm on a Thursday afternoon and there were only a hand full of diners, so finding a table shouldn’t be that much of a problem.
After my experience at Jeanine’s, I’m not as apprehensive about dining out at some of the nicer restaurants. My only dilemma is where I should eat next. There’s a couple of places left for me to explore, but Westheimer is a long street, and stretches west to Highway 6. I think for now I’ll stick to this end of Westheimer, and look into those places I’ve overlooked in the past.

Wednesday, December 09, 2009

Alien Extraction

Greetings from Suburbia readers. I am recovering with the parental units at the moment. Certainly was a long day for me today. My morning started at 4 after a fitful night of sleep. I had to be at Ben Taub at 6 for surgery. Maybe two or three years ago a lump on my face started growing, and I didn’t have as much of a problem with it as others did.
As it grew larger, people began to wonder what it was, and I did too. I wasn’t worried at first, but I thought I should at least find out what’s up. Back a couple of years ago, I went to my doctor and he diagnosed it as a lipoma, a fatty tumor basically. I was given a referral to an ear, nose, and throat doctor, and it promptly got sucked into the black hole that is my efficiency apartment. Another year passed and I realized in a picture just how large it had gotten and decided to get that referral again.
So I found myself in the waiting room of a plastic surgeon, and I was on my way again. I figured this is it I’m going to get this thing taken care of. Well, it wasn’t that easy. My doctor ordered a CT scan, but he wouldn’t tell me the cost. Then I got a call from the diagnostic clinic later in the week and when they quoted me the cost, I was floored. I had insurance at work, but being a PPO, they would pay only the deductable and the rest would come out of my pocket.
The amount wasn’t exactly astronomical, but on my budget, it was a lot. It was explained to me that they could bill me. Of course I already knew that they wanted that money up front, and not in increments, the only way I was able to pay. To be that close to getting that tumor removed only to be turned back like that was heartbreaking. I was upset, but I wasn’t deterred. There was always the Harris County Hospital District.
Even though I had insurance, it was at least worth a try. I couldn’t disappoint my friends and family and just give up like that. So began another journey for me. I called the hospital district and they sent me to the far north side of Houston to pick up my papers. Once the form was filled out, I had to make an appointment to turn in my paperwork and get registered in their system. Easier said than done when using public transportation.
I had to go to the far southeast side of Houston and be there at an appointed time. The first thing I learned about dealing with the hospital district is that just because the appointment is at a certain time doesn’t mean that I’ll be seen right then and there. So I arrived at the registration office with all the required paperwork and waited – and waited some more. Finally I was seen by a hospital district worker and turned in all my paperwork. I was worried that even though I had insurance I’d be denied.
Then surprise, surprise I was approved. I was now in the Harris County Hospital District system. I was now the proud owner of a HCHD Gold Card, and I was on my way again. After dragging my feet for a little bit, I finally called and made an appointment to be seen at the clinic back on the north side of Houston. I think I must have confused a lot of HCHD employees when they called my name in Spanish and I’d answer them in plain English. \
Being a patient in a public healthcare system means having to give over a lot of my secrets. Foremost my real weight and my real height. The doctor couldn’t understand why I was there until I showed her the mass on my face. She probed the surface with her finger and determined that yes it might just be a lipoma. I was given a referral to Ben Taub and see an ear, nose, and throat specialist.
The doctors looked it over and ordered a CT scan. I thought, oh no here we go again, but no sweat. There was no give us your money or your life this time. I got the CT scan, met back with the doctors again. They determined that sebaceous cyst, and was probably benign. The next step was to have the cyst biopsied. I’m thinking big needles and heavy sedation, but no.
The needle used was smaller than the one used to draw blood, and there was no anesthetic necessary. At the pathologist’s office she took a very fine needle and probed it twice. When she said I might feel pressure, she wasn’t kidding. It hurt and my skin was red in that area. It was the first time that it ever really hurt. Most of the time the only pain I got from it was a shooting pain in the temple and jaw, or when it was exposed to extreme temperatures. The biopsy determined that indeed the cyst was benign, and the next step was to have it removed.
A quick meeting with the anesthesiologist determined that I’d be put under plus have a local applied as well. I was nervous and I had my apprehensions, but the docs assured me that it wouldn’t be that bad. So bright and early on the morning of the 9th, my parents took me up to Ben Taub hospital for the surgery. All my friends and family were pulling for me, and they were happy that I was finally having it taken out. I was probably the happiest though because I’d have peace of mind knowing that it was gone forever.
The surgery waiting room was chaos. Everyone was scheduled to be there at 6 in the morning, but the nurse had to explain that patients would be called according to the time that their doctors could see them. So finally around 8:30 I was sent into surgery. After struggling with the stupid hospital gown, I was sent to pre-op for screening and monitoring. Then the docs came, looked me over, and I was wheeled into the operating room after 10 in the morning.
The last thing I remember is looking up at the OR ceiling with a mask on my face. I woke up again and found myself with the mask still on in the recovery area. At first the nurses didn’t realize I was awake until I got their attention. They took off the mask because that hurt. Then I explained that I was feeling pressure in my sinuses. I was administered apple juice and a Vicodin tablet. The nurse assured me that it was safe to take the pill on an empty stomach.
After a while I felt nauseous and the pain hadn’t gone away. I still felt the pressure, so I was administered morphine. Still nothing, so I was given Ketamine. All that did was knock me out, but I was in so much pain, the nurse brought in the doctor. He loosened the bandage around my head and the pressure went away. I passed out, and when I came to, it was time to go.
Once the docs and nurses cleared me to go home, I was prescribed pain killers and an antibiotic. My parents took me to their house and I’m going to convalesce here the next couple of days. It’ll be a while before you see me out again, and if you shop at Disco Kroger over in the Montrose, you’ll have to wait ‘til Monday to see me slinging meat again. A big thanks to the ENT specialists at Ben Taub for the excellent job they’ve done. And thanks to all my friends and family for their thoughts, their concerns, and their prayers. It’s greatly appreciated and I look forward to seeing y’all again soon.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Thai Seafood Curry

What you'll need:

1/4 small onion, chopped
2-3 cloves garlic crushed and minced
1tbsp grated ginger
1tbsp brown sugar
1 tbsp green or red thai curry paste
1 can coconut milk
1tbsp oyster or teriyaki sauce

1lb 51-60 count shrimp peeled
4-6 tilapia fillets
octopus or calamari (optional)
prepared crawfish tails (optional)
prepared crab meat (optional)
prepared lobster meat (optional)

2 cups water
1 cup rice

Curry:
In a dutch oven or deep covered frying pan, drop the curry paste and cook out the oils. Add onion, garlic, and ginger and brown. Add can of coconut milk and add brown sugar and oyster sauce. Stir until blended and then toss in fish.
Once the fillets flake and separate, add in the rest of the seafood. Shrimp will turn pink when ready. Sauce should come to a simmer,but not a rolling boil. Turn off heat and let sit covered.

Rice:
In a sauce pan bring two cups of water to a boil, stir in rice, bring to a boil again, and lower heat, Let rice cook 20 minutes covered on low heat. At end of cooking time, fluff with fork and let sit five minutes before serving.

This dish can be very filling and the remaining paste can be used in other dishes.

Friday, April 10, 2009

More Urban Jungle Survival Tips

All right so it's grocery shopping time, and I am always on the lookout for bargains. My eyes are automatically drawn to the yellow or bright red shopper's club card deals. Sure some of them are great, but not everyone can afford those pricey deals. However, there are other options.
Number one is the closeout item. That is a product that the store is no longer going to sell, or is changing the packaging, or any number of reasons. Some of them are really useful, and then there's some that well, just flat out useless. Most grocery stores have a corner or area where these items are gathered. Other places will specify them with a different colored shelf tag to draw attention to it.
Items that are marked down are also kept in some of these closeout areas as well. The one proviso here is that some items in markdown areas are either close dated or damaged, so be careful.
Canned goods that are dented, packages that are torn or crushed are good examples of these. Most times if the top of the can is not pushed out, then the product is still good. Just remember that the clock is ticking on those items once damage occurs. It may not stay fresh as long, so the quicker they're used, the better.
A lot of grocery stores have areas where marked down meats are kept as well. Most of the time these products are a day or two out of date. In the case of processed meats such as ham and turkey, they should be anywhere from seven to ten days from their expiration date. Products day of or older should not be in either of these areas. and if they are, they should be brought to the attention of store management.
Things to look for when choosing marked down meat are color, smell, and packaging. If the product is still red, most of the blood is still in the meat. Anything brown usually means that most of the blood has soaked into the pad underneath or leaked out. When looking at the packaging, it should be rightly wrapped and stuck to the bottom of the tray. If it is not, it can be re-wrapped, but remember to move it to another package at home.
If the product has turned green or gray, move on to something fresher. Also when choosing fresh meat, if the packaging smells, the product may not. However a lot of the time odor has to do with case sanitation and whether or not the package was wrapped tightly. Choosing processed meats is a different game altogether.
Processed meats should look slightly pink or white depending on what it is. If the product has turned beige, green, or gray, don't take it home. Chances are that air has been introduced into that product, thus initiating the decomposing process. If the product has a stomach or has puffed up, then definitely don't take it home.
That means that dangerous bacterias like listeria may be lurking in that package. For the most part listeria is harmless, but it's best not to take any chances. For instance bacon should be bright red or pink and white. If it is brown and the edges look feathered or frayed, chances are it is not safe to eat. At home if the processed meat has a slimy coating, contact the manufacturer directly and discard the product because they will more than likely send a coupon for a free replacement.
Seafood is usually marked down, but it's best to pass it up and get something fresher. But if it's too hard to pass up, there are some things to remember. Fresh whole fish should smell like fresh water, and the eyes should not be clouded over. Shrimp should be stuck to its shell and slightly firm. If the shell has separated, or it's a bit soft to the touch, it's probably best to get something fresher.
Dairy and produce also usually have markdown items as well. Again take the same precautions. Typically milk will last one to five days after the expiration date, but the best way to tell is the smell test. When it no longer beings to smell fresh, pour it down the drain or use it for baking. Most dairy or produce products should be marked down within five days of their expiration date to ensure maximum usage.
Bread or bakery items are usually marked down a day in advance of their expiration date. Most of the time the best thing to do here is take the product home and store it in sandwich bags in the freezer until ready for use.
Fish and seafood can be frozen for up to three to four weeks. Breads no more than two weeks because they will dry out. In some cases that can be a good thing because that can be used as bread crumbs or bread pudding. Fresh meat can survive up to six weeks in the freezer, and processed meats up to three months.
Hopefully these tips can save money and hopefully time in the grocery store. My rule is always if it's green or gray, throw it away.

Tuesday, April 07, 2009

Tex Mex Mac and Cheese casserole

1 bag elbow macaroni
1 can Ro-Tel tomatoes or similar style
1lb hamburger meat 80% lean or better
1 envelope taco seasoning mix
1 bag shredded medium cheddar cheese
1 bag Mexican style shredded cheese
1 stick unsalted creamery butter
6 tbsp flour
4-6 cups whole milk (nothing under 2%)

First things first. Prepare the water for the macaroni and place on back burner. Next brown and then drain hamburger meat. Add taco seasoning until meat is entirely coated. Cover and set aside.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. When water comes to a boil, stir in macaroni.

In a sauce pan, melt the butter and add flour a tablespoon at a time and make a roux. Do not brown. Whisk in the milk and combine until blended. Lower heat and stir sauce until thickened. When the sauce coats the back of a spoon, turn off heat. Add mild cheddar and whisk until blended into sauce.

Macaroni should be fork tender and white when ready. Drain off the pasta and pour into a rectangular baking dish. Add Ro-tel, hamburger meat and stir together. Pour sauce into pan and stir until all ingredients are blended. Spread the bag of Mexican style shredded cheese over top, pop into oven and bake until cheese bubbles and macaroni begin to harden.

This will serve a small crowd, or one or two people over several days. Can also be portioned and frozen for later use.

Quesadilla, pepper jack cheese, or even Velveeta can be used in place of medium cheddar. Other add-ins instead of hamburger meat can be prepared chicken and beef fajita strips chopped into small pieces. Ground turkey, chicken, or even vegetarian grinds can be used.

Monday, February 23, 2009

Hurricane Hell followup 9/19/08

After being cooped up for almost a week, I decided Wednesday to hit the streets and see what this city looked like. All over it was pretty much the same. Lots of trees still down and lots of areas still without power.

I started out on the light rail line where there was no power, so no place to charge my Q Card, the rechargeable bus pass. Lucky the light rail was free, but none of the ride stores, at least as far as I could tell, were open. Since downtown still had power, I was able to recharge the card at one of the rail platforms.

Waiting for the bus west to the Galleria, I was able to see that Travis was still blocked off Wednesday. All of the windows blown out at the JP Morgan ChaseTower were now boarded up, as were most of the other windows that blew out downtown, as the bus moved forward through the city.

Traffic signals were still out in some places downtown, but Midtown was without power from about St. Joseph's al the way south to Elgin. So that was Wednesday, and I spent the day out. First to lunch, and then the Galleria.

After being couped up this whole time, it was nice to see civilization again, but there were still signs thinngs weren't quite back to normal. There were people all throughout Galleria II that were on their laptops or charging their cell phones.

On my way home I ran into some friends and that really made my day. It was great to reconnect with people, some that I hadn't seen in two or three weeks. We hung out at a local watering hole and hung out there until the owner ran us off 'round curfew time. Yep, Houston's still under a midnight to 6am curfew through Monday.

So Thursdfay I decided to head west to Memorial City Mall and see how it looked there. Still more of the same along Long Point and Hempstead, along the bus route I chose to take. Spotty is the best word to describe our current power situation. One side of the street will have lights, while the other won't.

One improvement I saw in Westmoreland here is a lot of the trees had been cut up and piled on the side of the streets. Out at Memorial City Mall, it was the same scene as the Galleria. Lots of people using their wi-fi and charing their electronics. I can understand what that's like wanting to reconnect with the world at large and let our friends and family in other places know that we're alive and that this storm didn't get us down.

The streets were busiere today with people either heading back home from evacutating, or just coming home from work. Westchase along Gessner and Westheimer all the way east to about Dunvale was spotty at best as far as electrical service goes.

I got the brilliant idea that Wal-Mart, being this mega giant retailer, would have fucking groceries like cold foodstuffs. Nope. Deli, produce, meat, frozen - empty. Nothing left on the shelves but some drinks and a hand full of gourds. I freaked the fuck out honestly. This was not what I was expecting from Wal-Mart for crying out loud.

Yeah I can understand 99 Cents Only, Kroger, and Randall's here in Montrose since they all just got their power back. 99 Cents Only and Randall's were spotty at best in their selection of perishables.

My friend from high school called me as I stood here agape at the sight of the empty coolers. He lives in League City, and he did a recon mission for me down there. His Wal-Mart had some cold foodstuffs, and he came and got me.

Every where he went traffic was hell. Between the lights out in places on Westheimer, and the traffic on the freeways, what's normally a thirty - or forty-minute drive took closer to an hour. Finaly, he arrived and shuttled me down to League City.

All along 45 South the Gulf Freeway, Ike's calling card was every where. From darkened parking lots to broken signs and fallen awnings, the devastation was evident. The League City Wal-Mart was spotty at best, but they had the essentals I wanted like lunch meat and cheese and milk, things I realized I take for granted.

I have to say that I really appreciate my friend braving all that traffic to get me the hell out of here so I could get groceries. And I appreciate all my friends who've checked in on me, or have thought about me in the wake of this storm. I also give a shout out to those who showed their concernts for not just me, but my family too.

So, the lights are back on here in Westmoreland, but other areas of the Montrose still remain in the dark. Hopefully the power will be back on by the time the curfew's lifted Monday. I know a lot of the bars and clubs have been posting bulleteins that they'l be open this weekend, and they'll even open early to accommodate the city-wide curfew. Hope to see some of you out this weekend. I miss y'all, and I miss hangin' out with y'all. Be well.

Hurricane Hell 9/16/08

For the last twenty-five years or so, the Houston/Galveston area managed to dodge some major bullets in terms of major hurricanes. Many times me and my family prepared for the worst and nothing happened. The most we saw in that 25-year span were baby hurricanes and minor tropical storms. Then, about three years ago, we got the wake-up call with Katrina first and then Rita, which apeared it would take dead aim at the Houston/Galveston area. Once again we'd dodged what was a monster hurricane.

This year's hurricane forecast as in recent years didn't look too good fo the U.S. coastal areas. Personally I'd become complacent in recent years. I'd pretty much determined that if it happened, it happened, and there was nothign I could do about it. This year we avoided a direct hit by Hurricanes Dolly and Gustav, but took a glancing blow from Tropical Storm Edouard.

Then the Cape Verde season began, and that's usually when I pay attention because those storms have historically taken aim at the Gulf Coast. So when Ike formed just off the Cape Verde coast, I really didn't pay much attention because the forecasters said Josephine would have a better chance of taking aim at the Texas Gulf Coast.

Ike was already ahead of Josephine and tmoving over storm weary Haiti, Cuba, and the Caribbean. Forecasters and meteorologists scrambled to predict where exactly the storm would make landfall. For the first time in 25 years, I actually stopped and took notice. Galveston and Houston were in the center of the cone of uncertainity, and the closer it got, the more likely landfall would be somewhere in the area.

Monday I got in touch with my family in Texas City, just to the south of Houston and north of Galveston. Mom told me that she had no idea we were in the target zone, but that she would concact me later in the week with their plans.

In the mean time, I hoped and prayed this thing would go the other way and miss us, but I knew our time was past due. The grocery store where I work was busy Thursday morning, and then by that afternoon, shelves had emptied of can goods, water, and even perishables like dairy, meat, and produce.

After I got off work, Mom had made the decision to evacuate now that it was obvious Hurricane Ike was about to take aim at Galveston. Dad and Grandma sheltered at my apartkment, and the rest of my family at my sister's house in Bellaire.

We watched the news coverage and waited as the storm got closer by the hour. Ahead of the hurricane water pushed into the bays and bayous south from Corpus Christi north to Surfside, Galveston, the Bolivar Peninsula, and even as far north as Beaumont and southern Louisiana. This storm was huge and it was only a cat 2.

Just after midnight Ike began to move into the Houston area after battering the coast. For eight exhausting hours wind and rain battered my apartment complex. All over the Montrose where I live transformers exploded and the entire area went dark.

Daylight revealed lots of downed trees and there were branches and leaves all over the place. Listening to the battery operated radio I had, word from the coast wasn't good. Many landmarks across the Gulf Coast were gone or destroyed.

Just today I got electricity back, and I was able to see just what exactly happened. East of Houston in Orange County and Chambers County, the devastation was unbelievable. Entire communities along the Bolivar Peninsula to the east of Galveston Island were wiped off the map, and water still inundated areas further east.

Along Galveston Bay, many of the communities from Bacliff to San Leon, and north to Shoreacres and Baytown were nearly wiped out by the 13-15 foot storm surge.

On a personal note, my family went home Saturday afternoon and found their roofs slightly damanged, and the trees knocked oer. Nothing as major as what happened along the coast.

So far the Texas Gulf Coast from Brazoria to Galveston and Chambers counties are closed off. Do not attempt to go south and try and help. Instead I encourage people to donate to their local Red Cross and Salvation Army.

It will be many months, possibly even years before many of these areas fully recover. If you loved going to the Gulf of Mexico to vacation or to party or whatever, then I strongly encourage you to help those people because their situation is dire.