food – Page 2 – Geoff Fox: My Permanent Record

Our Second Day In Las Vegas

Seriously, knowing how Vegas works is invaluable because so much is available if you just ask… and you know who to ask… and you know when to ask.

Good afternoon from Fabulous Las Vegas. Gobblepalooza ’09 continues! We’ve been here a little over 24 hours and have had a great time so far.

Helaine and I have been to Las Vegas many times. We know the city pretty well and we know how the system works.

Seriously, knowing how Vegas works is invaluable because so much is available if you just ask… and you know who to ask… and you know when to ask.

We went for dinner with my cousins last night. The restaurant, right across from the gondoliers, was Zeffirino.

Not only was it Thanksgiving, it was Helaine and my 26th wedding anniversary. We tried to keep it low key, but when the two strolling musicians came to the table Cousin Melissa let them know!

Normally Zeffirino serves very nice Italian food. Last night it was buffet style and it was very good–especially the desserts. OK–especially the desserts and lamb chops. Yum.

Fun pastime in Las Vegas. We people watch.

An older man was sitting nearby at a large table family style. He was much older than everyone else and the family with him was quite exotic looking. I’d like to pick an ethnicity, but I can’t.

One of the women was probably his wife and the two other adult women her daughters. Our game was “Try and guess what they see in him?”

Money was the consensus choice.

With only three hours bed sleep and another hour and a half on the plane I was bushed. I was in bed before 10:00 PST. Very early for me.

This morning the six of us went to breakfast at “First” a new cafe in the hotel. Helaine had read very good things, but the service was indifferent and slow.

At one point a manager came to the table and I told him–nicely. He said he did want to know and I believe him. Vegas is built on service.

As we finished the meal a batch of freshly made donuts with amazing dipping sauces was brought to the table . For the cost of the donuts he turned a bad experience into a much happier one.

Our breakfasts were very good and we’ll probably go back to see if the service improves. This manager gets a save.

Helaine, Stef, Michael, Max and Melissa headed to the Forum Shoppes at Caesar’s. I went to the Venetian Poker Room for the noon tournament. This is a mid level tournament in a very good poker room.

How are poker rooms different? A good room has comfortable chairs and tables, good dealers and attentive waitress service. Bingo!

I lasted around three and a half hours busting out in 36th place of the original 144. Tonight someone will go home with over $4,900. Not me.

I was very happy with my play. My losing move was an all-in with Ace Jack only to run into an Ace King. Oh well.

I walked back through the casino and put a $20 bill in a slot machine. Within ten minutes I’d (mostly) won back my poker entry fee. Go figure?

We’re having dinner at a Mexican restaurant tonight. Hopefully I’ll be able to stay up a little later than last night.

The Foxes At The Big E

We saw animals and ate food… lots of food… lots of bad-for-you food and walked the grounds.

We came. We saw. We ate… and ate!

Today was “Big E” day for the Fox Family. Stef and Helaine dropped Roxie at the vet for her “Tribute to Bob Barker” day then headed home to wake me. By 9:30 AM we were on the road, heading north to West Springfield, MA.

I started the day with a scratchy throat. No change there. We’re back home now–exhausted.

We saw animals and ate food… lots of food… lots of bad-for-you food and walked the grounds. The Big E is New England’s state fair, so it’s pretty large.

I also took around 350 photos. I plan on putting some sort of slide show together, but for now I just wanted to check in and say I’m alive.

A Night At The North Haven Fair

The three of us went for a good time and found it!

Bunnies! We love bunnies. That’s the main reason we went to the North Haven Fair this evening.

OK–there’s also the food. At this fair… at every fair anything worth cooking is worth frying! By definition fairs are OPEC friendly.

The weather tonight was less than optimum with some light sprinkles and drizzle. It didn’t matter. The three of us went for a good time and found it!

If it wasn’t for the work, responsibility, hours and stench I think Stef would make a great farmer.

The photos are also available as stills here.

Helaine’s Tweets

She is fun to read because these short snippets really come from deep within her.

Helaine is on Twitter. Sorry–won’t give up her ID without a court order. Her tweets are protected (and to back that up there’s a padlock icon next to them)!

She is fun to read because these short snippets come from deep within. Close your eyes and you hear them in her voice!

I’ll give you a little taste… not too much.

Labor Day in CT = it’s almost Winter. How many days ’til Spring?

Just Shop Vac’d the garage. Love the vac, hate the spiders! The basement is next. Another day. Enough excitement for one day.

Just saw “Julie and Julia.” Sweet movie, made me hungry, Meryl Streep is amazing. I don’t like French food, so we went to IHOP.:)

I told her she should blog!

Where Are The Cookies?

Helaine trusts me with everything except baked goods.

My friend Bob is making a quick stop in Connecticut this weekend. He’ll be staying with Helaine and me Saturday night.

Helaine, being the world’s best hostess, has baked. She’s the world’s best baker too.

There are cookies. There is cake. So I’ve been told.

Where are they? Damned if I know. I’ve looked.

Twenty five years of marriage! Helaine trusts me with everything except baked goods. For good reason. I cannot be trusted around anything with butter in it. I’d be bouncing like a twelve year old on a sugar high by now.

In Geoffspeak cookies does not have a singular form.

I went sleuthing. They are neither in the basement nor the dining room. In the past she has squirreled things away in the half bath downstairs.

Not food? Helaine, you wouldn’t hide food in the bathroom, would you?

I probably won’t actually see the stash until Saturday. She’s that good. They’re that well hidden.

My wife would make a great spy.

The Best Birthday

I can’t begin to tell you how good a time I had with my family. To steal a line from Stef, it was magical.

In about an hour my birthday will be over. To celebrate Mother Nature has pulled out all the stops on a pretty radical thunderstorm. I’m hearing and seeing it out my window while following it closely on the radar.

It was a great birthday.

It actually started late yesterday evening when Stef asked if I wanted to go for some fast food?

This is very un-Steffie like. She seldom ate fast food as a kid and certainly not now. I can guarantee when she asked she thought I’d say no… but I didn’t.

We popped the top on my car and set out for the other side of Hamden. Fast food is at least ten minutes away.

“Garrison Keillor,” I asked?

There was no way she’d ride in a convertible with NPR on the radio. She reached over, pushed a button and began to tune around looking for something modern and suitably auto-tuned to show youth was in control.

Somebody call 911

Shawty fire burning on the dance floor

Whoa

At the drive-thru window Stef got some chicken meal while I got a chocolate shake. Welcome home friend–it’s been a long time since a chocolate shake passed my lips.

We got home just before midnight. At the very stroke Helaine appeared with my birthday cake. It was an oversized cupcake custom decorated by Cindy Turner at Cakeworks. She’s been in charge of our birthday cakes for close to two decades. She did not disappoint with icing so sweet it must violate some law!

Helaine and Stef had some cards and three sets of cuff links as gifts.

One was rectangular with colored stones. The second had speedometers on the face. The third was silver and shaped like Roxie, Stef’s new mini doxie puppy. Sweet.

My bigger birthday gift was still in boxes in the garage–a new PC awaiting assembly.

If my birthday ended right there I would have been quite happy. The three of us were together and obviously in a very good place with each other. I wouldn’t have believed that at 16 or even 26, but that’s the best gift.

Most of today was spent watching the Phils play. They blew out the Cards in Philadelphia. It was nice to have Stef around for most of the game. She has, for good or bad, become a fan who can get into a game and truly understand what’s going on.

Tonight the three of us headed to Lenny’s in Branford for my birthday dinner. Once Lenny’s was a lovable dump with excellent, fresh seafood. It’s not a dump anymore and though I was scared that would affect the food, it has not.

I treated myself to the “Shore Dinner” with a big lobster, steamers, a couple of clams, chowder and a slice of watermelon. Seriously, how can you go wrong with that?

Originally I was going to build my new computer today. That’s been put off. Not enough time.

I can’t begin to tell you how good a time I had with my family. To steal a line from Stef, it was magical.

I’d take that for my birthday every year.

Some Tuesday Photos From Vegas

A few shots from today in Las Vegas. Evi asked for food, so I’ve included breakfast!

They’re On The Road Again

I was a horrendous bachelor. I’d grocery shop, gorge myself for a few days, then starve while waiting to go again.

Helaine woke me with a kiss this morning. She opened the bedroom door as she left because I was about to be alone in the house. She and Stef got in the car and headed north. It’s concert time in Verona, NY near Syracuse. The Rick Springfield Stalker Tour lives!

OK–they’re not stalkers. It’s just fun to say.

I was once a bachelor. I can take care of myself for four days, right?

I had a 1:45 PM appointment in Branford to get my hair cut with Francine at Allusions. At 1:45 PM I was on the “Q” Bridge and on phone. “I’ll be a few minutes late,” I said. That didn’t take long.

I’m not sure how or why but even a day alone leaves the house noticeably messier. Is Helaine walking behind me undoing my mess when she’s home? It’s possible.

I was a horrendous bachelor. I’d grocery shop, gorge myself for a few days, then starve while waiting to go again. Helaine still talks about the ketchup bottle “ketchupped” to my ugly yellow Parsons table. Clean clothes would lay on the floor and never quite make it into the dresser or closet. At one point I had an apartment with mushrooms growing from the bathroom vanity.

I’m not proud of myself as a bachelor, but it’s been nearly 30 years. We’ve passed the statute of limitations. We have, haven’t we?

Though they’re gone there’s no doubt Helaine and Stef care and worry. As I was about to fly out the door I saw the two plates of butter cookies with fruit jam centers.

I can be bought off with food.

How Much Longer?

We headed upstairs past clusters of people smarter than us. I got a cup of coffee in the back and headed to my favorite spot–the magazines.

Thursday night in New Haven, CT. Noah was off in New York for the Big East Tournament. Ann left to have dinner with her husband and an old college friend. Ted and I were alone for dinner. Usually that means heading somewhere we can’t go with Ann (very picky with food). Thursday night that meant Gourmet Heaven on Broadway near Yale.

Dinner was great and quick. We were left with some extra time which meant walking down the block to the Yale Bookstore.

The bookstore is really a Barnes & Noble re-badged to reflect the community and probably ease the pain caused when the original Yale Co-op was squeezed out a few years ago.

We headed upstairs past clusters of people smarter than us leafing through heavy tomes on weighty subjects. I got a cup of coffee in the back and headed to my favorite spot–the magazines.

The photo at the top of this entry probably shows half the titles on sale at the bookstore. They range from the common to specialized to esoteric to totally off-the-wall weird. The computer mags are close to some with bikini clad tattooed women leaning against motorcycles.

This part of the bookstore might as well be on the endangered species list. Pulp publishing is a dying business.

I remember as a college student subscribing to Time Magazine and poring through its pages weekly. The news and analysis were still new to me when the magazine arrived. Now, even the morning paper is sadly dated by the time it hits my front steps.

Too slow. To expensive. Too bad.

I remember when growing up how my parents would claim radio drama had been superior to TV as a medium of the mind. I’ve heard old radio. They were mistaken. TV was better. Will I be looked upon as having made the same mistake?

The Internet is better for transmitting words and pictures than magazines. I’m still in love with type set on paper.

A Few Thoughts On Phone Numbers

It is an archaeological dig through my folks life. You can track my career by the crossed out numbers and addresses.

I need to backup the contacts in my phone. I don’t know… don’t use… numbers any more. My folks are “5.” Helaine, though number one in my heart is number “2” on my phone. AT&T reserve number “1” for voicemail.

My mother has a dog eared phone book she leaves in the kitchen. Over the years water and food have made the book look ‘lived in.’ There are dead people and former friends still maintaining their space. Extra pieces have paper have been inserted where overly popular letters have run out-of-space.

The book is an archaeological dig through my folks life. You can track my career by the crossed out numbers and addresses.

No one uses address books any more. Well, no one below a certain age uses them. Your cellphone is your address book along with your wrist watch and alarm clock.

The concept of area code is passée too. I have two friends in California whose numbers on the “Caller ID” say New Jersey. My daughter will probably keep her Connecticut number for the rest of her life… or as long as she can.

A few years ago phone companies were complaining they were running out of numbers. You don’t hear that today. There are two additional area codes reserved for Connecticut–475 and 959. They were supposed to be introduced in 2001. I doubt we’ll need them in the near term future.

My Friend Lucy and Cottage Country

Her family owned an island in Canada. Woodmere Island is right off of Tobin’s island on Lake Rosseau in the Muskoka lakes. It is close to Port Carling. The island itself had been passed down through a few generations. Alas, it is no long in the family.

One of the cool things about Facebook is coming across old friends. Recently I stumbled into Mary Lucy Hauserman. I met Lucy nearly 30 years ago in Philadelphia. I was a disk jockey back then.

Lucy was a teenager who wanted to get into radio. She made herself well known in the business and stuck with it. She is the production manager for a large cluster of stations in Philadelphia.

By the summer of ’81 I was in Buffalo. These were pre-email and cheap long distance days, but Lucy and I kept in touch.

Her family owned an island in Canada–Woodmere Island. Lucy tells me it’s right off of Tobin’s island on Lake Rosseau in the Muskoka lakes. It is close to Port Carling. That’s a nice way of saying it’s way out in the boonies.

The island itself had been passed down through a few generations. It is no longer in the family.

This area of Ontario north of Toronto is often referred to as “cottage country.” It’s quite a drive from Buffalo, but doable.

When invited to spend the weekend on Woodmere Island I jumped at the chance. Lucy’s entire family was going to be there and I was looking forward to meeting them. Who knew there would be blogs by now–no notes. There are some parts of the weekend I still remember vividly.

Going to Canada from Buffalo wasn’t out-of-the-ordinary. Canada was where you went for Chinese food! I drove along for a few hours then stopped for a bite. I ordered a sandwich and Coke, handed the clerk a US $20 and received $22 Canadian in change! What a country.

By the time I arrived at the lakefront it was well after dark. The Hauserman’s were already there and settled in. The night was mild and calm. An beautiful classic wooden boat–I think mahogany–was waiting at the dock. I got on and Lucy gunned it!

I’ll let her pick up the story.

“I remember you screaming STOP we’re gonna hit Rocks or an otter or something! But you knew I knew the islands silhouettes like the back of my hand….I knew where all the buoy were too! So Funny!”

The island itself was beautiful. It was pristine and rustic. There were a few buildings as I remember. Nothing was fancy but everything was substantial. The lake water was very cold. Too cold for me.

I was only there once. Lucy was there every summer.

“I loved our lodge with the big tables and the wonderful fireplace. the boathouse , the beach, the cabins, the walkways with the hand made lights. Water skiing off the dock, hanging out with my family, the sound the water made when it lapped against the dock, the smell of the pine needles in the sun as you rounded the path towards the boathouse….It was incredibly special to me.”

I remember Lucy’s folks being very nice to me. I immediately felt I was part of the family.

On Saturday Lucy’s mom told me of the family’s plans for Sunday church. She said I could sleep in, but I asked if I could come along?

Sunday morning we all piled into the beautiful wooden boat and went to church. Though I am Jewish I found the whole experience as warm as it was foreign to me. Not to play down the religious aspect, but all I could see was how sweet this family was.

“That little church was so amazing on top of the rocky hill….and our antique boats that took us everywhere! What in incredible gift ! I am so happy to have shared it with you, for there are not many that I can speak to… that can understand the incredibleness of Muskoka and Woodmere Island.

I am very lucky to have a friend like Lucy. Don’t think I don’t know it.

Christmas Is For Eating

We’ve gotten candy and cookies already… rainbow cookies. Mmmmm. A box arrived today from Harry and David. I’m not sure who they are but they send snacks… and they’re certainly portly.

It’s Christmastime. Everyone thinks we’re underfed.

All that good tasting food has to be eaten. I wouldn’t want it to spoil. Harry or David would cry. I can’t be responsible for that.

No wonder the common wisdom is this is the weight gaining time of year! More food. Less Exercise. How could something that sounds so right be so wrong?

And then, with all this food bouncing in the door, comes this photo of Barack Obama wearing shorts and no shirt! I don’t even go into the shower shirtless. Not only that, his body look hairless (there are no tight shots of his ears, nose or back, but we’ll assume they follow the chest).

Seriously, if I would have known he was going to flaunt it I would have voted for McCain.

One of the people I work with said it’s because he’s ‘young.’ Please–spare me. I wasn’t built like that while in the womb much less a moment since.

Where the hell are those rainbow cookies. I feel a binge coming on.

Crows And Snow

I’m not sure there’s a correct lens for snow. I’ve tried everything. Maybe there’s just no lens for snow. There are too many places to focus with flakes at every possible distance.

It’s snowing again. Connecticut will turn much colder and windier later, but right now it’s all very pretty. My estimate is we’re getting an inch or two an hour at this clip. It’s tough to say exactly because the old snow is settling.

I wanted to take some photos, but I didn’t want to venture outside. To the garage!

I threw the 70-300mm lens on “Clicky.” I’m not sure there’s a correct lens for snow. I’ve tried everything. Maybe there’s just no lens for snow. There are too many places to focus with flakes at every possible distance.

I’d taken a few shots when I heard a soft warbling. It wasn’t anything I recognized. I looked across our road wondering if I’d see an animal foraging for food. A deer or fox would stand out against the white. Nothing.

I heard the warble again, then the screech of a field crow. I shifted the lens up, switching to manual focus and scanning for the crow. He was across the road near the top of a tree. The shutter snapped. Not a great shot. It was going to be tough to shoot anything clearly through a few hundred feet of falling snow.

I leaned against the garage door frame to try and steady myself. At the same time I kept the lens on the crow. And then he warbled. It wasn’t another animal. It was the crow. I’d never heard that sound from a crow before. Was this his way of saying he too hates snow?

A second crow put down in the tree. Every minute or two they flitted to another branch. At times it seemed like they were hopping rather than flying. They moved across the road, landing eighty feet up on a tree a few feet from me.

I feel bad for them. It’s cold. Their sources of food are hidden. Even water is in short supply with ponds and lakes freezing over. It’s not a great day to be a crow.

ReMarried In Las Vegas

Everything I know told me this should be tacky. It wasn’t. This was a very sweet, very romantic thing to do and I’m glad we did it.

What a great day. Yes, a tiring day, but a great day nonetheless.

We found Stef at the airport, got our bags, took the shuttle to the rental car center and picked up a Jeep Liberty. The agent who helped us with our car recognized me from Channel 8. I always like that.

Check-in at the Mirage was easy. My folks, already checked in, met us at the front desk. There would be time for everyone to freshen up before the re-wedding. My cousins driving in from California were late, but said they’d meet us at the chapel–which they did.

The Little Church of the West is on Las Vegas Boulevard not far from the famous Las Vegas sign. The back end borders the airport.

The chapel itself is small and wooden. One of the folks there told us it’s been moved four times now and has been where it is for around 13 years.

Everything I know told me this should be tacky. It wasn’t. This was a very sweet, very romantic thing to do and I’m glad we did it.

With my parents, my cousins and our daughter all there, the officiant went through a one-size-fits-all but very sweet ceremony. Everything he said about love and commitment is true. After 25 years it’s good to be reminded.

We retreated to the Mirage for dinner at Samba, a Brazilian themed restaurant where the waiters slice your food off skewers at the table. It was very nice and my parents had two of the largest margaritas I’ve ever seen!

We had ordered a small cake and it came for dessert. Wow! Sight unseen we hadn’t gone wrong. The cake was beautiful and tasty.

So, there you are. We’re in Vegas. We’re married for another 25. Everything is going swimmingly, except for poker and the weather. It is gray and gloomy. I’m not sure I really care.

Partying At Bar

When you’re in a situation like this you often just grab a slice that looks good without knowing exactly what it is. That’s how I tried my first mashed potato pizza.

Helaine and I went to a birthday party for our friends Sue and Dennis. They are both ‘sort of’ fifty, so it was a twofer. Actually, it was a ‘threefer’ because another friend, Rick, turned sixty today.

We’ll allow fifty, but Helaine and I have decided we’re much too young to have a friend who’s sixty. Rick–you need to fix this right now.

The party was at Bar a New Haven restaurant/bar best known for its pizza… and very long lines to get in. In fact I have gone a few times, but never gotten to eat! The wait has always been too long.

The party was held in the back room. I’m pretty sure it was once a stable. It’s been converted perfectly into a party space with small bandstand, nice sized bar, a few private alcoves and lofted deejay booth.

We had appetizers, drinks and pizza. When you’re in a situation like this you often just grab a slice that looks good without knowing exactly what it is. That’s how I tried my first mashed potato pizza. Pretty good, but I’ll reserve final judgment until I try again.

The music, food and company were all good. Helaine and I weren’t the people getting older and we didn’t have to wait in line! What’s not to like?

Blogger’s note: “Clicky” was left home. This is from the cellphone camera–proof positive that shouldn’t be your first choice for photos.

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