Snow Day Redux!

Last month, way back in 2017, we experienced a rare, and frankly welcomed, event in Birmingham: a snow day! And though typically such days are the cause for much panic (see what happened in 2014), this one presented itself as an opportunity for good food and drink. 

What follows is my “you-are-there-account” of this blessed event.

Thursday, December 7, 2017

The weather reports slowly roll in with talk of a “winter weather event” for Central Alabama. But no fear, sayeth the weathermen, there will be little if any accumulation—maybe a quarter of an inch. Relieved, the somnolence of a pre-Holiday office shuffles along unabated, stopping only to nibble on the stale cookies gifted by an indifferent vendor. I pay little attention to the forecast, focusing instead on wrapping up some last-minute lose ends, before bundling up (it’s cold!) and heading out the door.

Driving home from work, I absentmindedly listen to NPR and think about the remaining items on the to-do list for my upcoming, annual holiday cocktail party. Snow is the last thing on my mind. My internal debate as to whether we should have a bourbon- or champagne-based punch is suddenly interrupted by the Prius with the “Coexist” sticker, driving 10 miles an hour too slow in the left lane. 

I get home and quickly jack up the thermostat. It’s not supposed to be this cold in Birmingham in early December! Tired, and knowing that I will soon tear up the kitchen for the upcoming holiday party, I order a pizza. Besides, maybe the stars will align, and I'll have a snow day to cook for the party.

 * * *

Seven hundred miles away, Laura stands in line waiting to board a plane to Birmingham that surprisingly is on time. Like Birmingham, it is also very cold in Washington, D.C., though it lacks a “winter snow event” forecast. She arrives on time, if not a tad early, and we settle in to watch It’s a Wonderful Life. We both fall asleep somewhere around the scene where George gets his wish.

The weather report is still calling for maybe 1/4 of an inch of snow. Having done nothing to get ready for this party, I could really use an extra day. Fingers crossed.

Friday, December 8, 2017

We wake up around 6:00 a.m. to see what even most people in the South would call a “dusting.” The weather reports are holding firm. Oh well, off to work I go. 

I check my phone. There is a text from my office. My heart skips a beat. Yes! The powers that be have designated today as a “Code Yellow.” This means, in the inexplicable logic of corporate America, that I am not expected to go into the office because of inclement weather, but if I stay home, then I must use PTO (“paid time off”). Thankfully, I can work from home.

Without the usual water cooler banter and jammed copier distractions of the office, I get a respectable amount of work done from my dining room table. Then, around, 9:15 a.m., I look up from my laptop and gaze out the front windows to discover copious amounts snow falling—my hilly street covered in six inches of snow. Accumulation has quickly passed the 1/4 of an inch mark, so calmly promised a mere 24 hours hence. 

And at approximately 9:57 a.m., local time, I get another text. My office is now officially at “Code Red,” which means we…are…closed…! I quickly draft an out-of-office greeting for email, slam down the cover of my laptop, and triumphantly  proclaim, “Snow day!” I’m met with a quick response from the troops at home (school is closed too): “What’s for lunch?”

I will not starve during this blizzard. The larder is full and not just with bread and milk. The wine collection in the basement would make a Bond villain blush, and the bar has been recently re-stocked. This has the potential for a snowy, boozy lunch. 

I dig out the gas grill on the deck, fire it up, and grill some Mahi Mahi with a soy, maple, and ginger glaze; roast broccoli with garlic, lemon, and marjoram; and whip up some creamy, yellow grits from Lakeside Mills. Oh, and a nice bottle of Torrontes. Who doesn’t like a simple lunch?

Later, we realize that we still need provisions for the next day’s holiday cocktail party. We are concerned about the roads, so we start out on foot because our street looks less than helpful. It’s below freezing, and I look like Nanook of the North as we set out. We hit the main road and quickly realize that maybe we wussed out for no reason. After the third Prius whizzes by, I decide to walk back to the house and get the SUV. 

The main roads are a breeze. We quickly arrive at the Piggly Wiggly and get the ingredients we need to finish the holiday party menu: caramelized bacon, parmesan crisps, and and pimento cheese.

Back at home, we make pasta with marinara sauce and some charcuterie we are saving for the party; we drink some of the wine we were saving for the party; and we discuss our good fortune for getting a snow day on a Friday that didn't keep us completely housebound. 

Of course, we watch White Christmas. After all, Mr. Bing Crosby and the gang didn't let snow deter them from putting on a great party, and neither will we!

And of course we fall asleep about 45 minutes into the movie. But after all, snow days and party planning are hard work!

Ice Ice Baby

A few days ago, we celebrated the U.S. of A’s 241st birthday.  We did so, no doubt, with plenty of beer, burgers, hot dogs, and fireworks. But what makes America—dare I say this?—great? What is this thing called “Murica”? Is it our big cars? Big houses? Hot dogs? Apple pie? No, it's something even more prosaic. It's ice. But it’s more than that, because many nations have ice, it’s rather the ubiquity of it that defines America and makes us stand tall above the other nations of the world. Ice is everywhere and it's generally free for the taking!

This recently occurred to me one night walking down a dimly light hallway to my hotel room, having just arrived from the airport.  Around the corner from my room was an alcove, and above it was a sign that simply read "ICE." Inside, an attentive ice machine hummed with stalwart efficiency. 

This was a large, convention hotel (39 floors in all). By my rough calculation, there had to be at least 90 ice machines in the building, not including those standing watch in the bars and restaurants. That's a lot of ice. I'm not sure the iceberg that sank the Titanic contained that much frozen water. 

But then again, hotels have had a long association with ice and ice machines.

Back in the day, the first thing I did when we stayed in a motel--after testing the T.V., of course--was take the little plastic bucket with the plastic liner and get some ice. It made little difference that we wouldn't need all that ice, in fact we didn't use it most of the time, it was just...what...you...did. 

And so that night, out of habit, I grabbed my bucket and shuffled to the ice machine, and with a cacophonous roar, old faithful filled my bucket to the rim with clear, clean ice. Unfortunately, there was no minibar in the room and the bar downstairs had closed. And in the morning, I had a bucket full of clear, clean water. 

I don't think I've ever seen an ice machine in a European hotel. 

And what is it with the Europeans and ice? If you have ever visited Europe and asked for a Coke with ice, you'd be luck to get three, but more likely, two diminutive ice cubes. Europe has trains that travel 200 mph and amazing highways, so surely they have mastered the mundane engineering that goes into designing and building ice machines. This is likely one reason the Europeans are lousy at cocktails. Cocktails require ice (or at least the good ones) and lots of it. 

Maybe we use a lot of ice in America—and let’s be honest here—because we can. We can afford to produce tons of ice for cocktails, ice cream, and ice sculptures at wedding receptions. Ice has always conveyed a sense of luxury and decadence. After all, the Romans had ice and snow mixed with their juices and wines for cooling effects. Though  likely apocryphal, the Roman emperor Nero would have snow and ice transported by runners from the mountains to Rome. Top that Pax Americana! 

There’s a lot of talk out there about American decline. I don’t see it based on the 24 oz. cups filled to the brim with perfectly shaped cubes of crystal clear manmade ice. I’m not going to worry until I have to ask for a fourth cube of ice at my local McDonalds. At that point, I better have my passport ready and a fast car to the border.

Snow Day!

If you were any where near a television last week, then you saw the coverage of Snowmageddon 2014 here in Birmingham, Alabama. Yeah, I know you Yankees get a laugh watching us Southerners have a collective freak-out over two or three inches of snow. Well, it doesn’t take much; we don’t keep a lot of snow-removal equipment sitting down because snow here is about as rare as a non-SEC team winning the national championship in college football. Maybe we should have taken that win by FSU as a premonition? And can we talk about freak-out? I’ve seen my Yankee friends pass out from the 90+ degree heat/90% humidity we get down here in August.

©  Chris Terrell 2014

Doesn't look like a dusting to me!

After my car got stuck for the third and final time, I locked it up and walked about 3 1/2 miles to my apartment in downtown Birmingham. (And yes, the roads did look like something out of The Walking Dead.) After warming up and changing out of my work clothes, I met up with some buddies to walk around and enjoy the snow day (the office would certainly be closed the next day). And because there’s not much else to do on a snow day, we reconnoitered the area to find a bar that was open. 

©  Chris Terrell 2014
The Long Walk Home

It didn’t look good at first. Paramount: no; Carrigan’s: no; The Collins: no; Pale Eddies: no; Urban Standard (quasi-bar): no. Our last chance was Rogue Tavern. Yes, it was open!  Needless to say, being the only bar open in downtown Birmingham during Snowmageddon 2014, it was packed! 

Remember how excited we were as kids when we got a snow day? But have you seen what happens to a bunch of respectable adults snowbound in a bar!?  

                                                                                  © 2014 Chris Terrell

Because so many people were stranded downtown, Rogue was an eclectic mix of urban hipsters, legal secretaries, overworked lawyers, and bankers. The drinks sitting on everyone’s tables reflected this diversity. In addition to the typical craft brews, there were plenty of chardonnays and scotches. As I said, for a bar, the food at Rogue isn’t too bad, and they ran out quickly. I think my friend Jim got the last hamburger in Birmingham that Tuesday night. 

Not surprisingly, I slept in a bit late on Day Two of Snowmageddon 2014. Because getting to the store was not an option, and there was nothing much to do, at least until the next happy hour, I decided it was time to clear out the fridge and do some cooking. 

In the freezer, I found some ham and black-eyed peas. This formed the basis for a ham and field pea soup. Though, I didn’t have any vegetable stock, I took some carrots, celery, and onions and tied them up in some cheese cloth and placed them in the water. Something like a giant bouquet garni. Bingo! Vegetable stock! And in a couple of hours, with a bit of cayenne pepper and ancho chili powder, I had soup!

Next, I took some eggs, plain yogurt, and lemons I found in the fridge and made a lemon yogurt cake from an Ina Garten recipe. And, with a few lemons leftover, I made lemon-pepper chicken paillard from a Bobby Flay recipe. A quick vinaigrette and some green leaf lettuce and “voila!” I had dinner. After dinner and a good movie, it was off to The Collins (now open) because the office would be closed the next day too! 

You gotta love snow days!

“Your Table is Ready” Part 2

© 2013 Chris Terrell

A few weeks ago, I wrote about my recent trip to New York and my “method” for picking the restaurants that I wanted to visit while I was there. This is the second part of that post, in which I reveal the restaurants I visited. There were some unexpected surprises and a serendipitous change of plans.

We arrived on January 1, and being from the South I felt compelled to eat collards and black-eyed peas. This would have required a special trip to Harlem to eat what New Yorkers call “soul food” or “Southern cuisine.” We just call it “food” down here. But alas, we were tired from a late night dinner in Washington, D.C., the night before, so we decided to keep it local. But where? We were staying in a very nice hotel in Midtown. I asked the concierge—an under-used service—who steered us in the right direction.

Brasserie

The best feature of this restaurant is its setting. It is located in the Seagram Building and has been there since the building opened in the late 50s. The atmosphere is right out of Mad Men—very mid-century modern. And if you like martinis with your lunch/brunch, theirs are very good. But caution—they are strong! They would knock Roger Sterling on his ass!

P. J. Clarke’s

For dinner that night, we wanted to keep it low key. We had enjoyed a late lunch earlier in the day and were not that hungry. So we went to P.J. Clarke’s for some appetizers. I had more than a few Manhattans, so my recollection on what we had may be suspect. We started with the jumbo shrimp cocktail, and when the menu says “jumbo,” they ain’t kiddin’! These things were right out of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea! The culinary highlight of the evening, however, was the parmesan tater tots with smoked ketchup. The tater tots in 10th grade were never like this!

The Modern

©2013 Chris Terrell

For me, no trip to New York is complete without a visit to my favorite museum, The Museum of Modern Art, or MoMA for short. I love MoMA! And a visit to MoMa would not be complete without lunch at The Modern, Danny Meyer’s restaurant next door. The decor exudes a confident, modern sensibility in keeping with its neighbor.  We had a table in the bar area. Shortly after we arrived, however, the real entertainment began. 

She arrived with an oversized Manolo Blahnik bag and equally oversized sunglasses. I wasn’t sure about her age. She appeared to be about 102 but was probably a well-worn 62. She was with a friend, but we would not hear from her, for she would not get a word in edgewise. If I were a casting director for a Woody Allen movie and needed the stereotypical upper East Side New Yorker from central casting, this woman would have been it. With that accent we love to mock and that only New Yorkers can appreciate, she proceeded to talk about a mutual friend who was a “third wheel.” And when dessert arrived, she was emphatic that they should only have “cawfee”. Linda Richman would have been proud!

And they make fun of the way we talk!

Anyway, she was part of the charm of what was a very pleasant lunch. Here’s what we had:

• Tarte Flambée—Alsatian thin crust tart  with crème fraîche, onion, and applewood-smoked  bacon
• Red Endive and Arugula Salad with red kuri pumpkin, honey crisp apple and ricotta salata 
• Cauliflower Soup with roasted hazelnuts, mascarpone,  and white balsamic 
• Alsatian Country Soup with Benton’s ham and Nantucket Bay scallops 

And then we went to MoMA. Did I tell you that I love MoMA?!

Alder

Dinner that evening was at Alder. We arrived just as snow was falling.

© 2013 Chris Terrell

Alder is the little brother to Wylie Dufresnes's well-known and well-regarded restaurant WD-50. The menu takes a creative approach to traditional flavors. This is a small-plates restaurant, which gives one plenty of room to experiment. The bar is creative too. I recommend the ample-sized Burnt Reynolds (rye, smoked vermouth, and Campari). I ordered the rye pasta based on various reviews, and I was not disappointed. It tastes just like a perfect New York pastrami on rye sandwich!

We also had the hanger steak, which was excellent, as well as the french onion soup rings. For desert, we had the root beer pudding, which was wonderful.

 The only complaint I had was the hostess. She seemed like someone you would find at a trendy club, assessing whether you were wearing the right shoes. It was snowing for Pete's sake! I had to wear my sensible shoes that night! 

© 2013 Chris Terrell

This is  me at the beginning of the

Sugar Bowl, full of hope and promise

By the time we left, my desire to walk around New York in the snow was quickly squelched. It was a slow cab ride back to the hotel where I watched Alabama in the Sugar Bowl. I won’t go there! But suffice it to say, it is a wonder I didn’t get thrown out into the cold that night given the colorful language I hurled at the TV
.

Candle 79

© 2013 Chris Terrell

They may be vegan, but they know
how to make a mean martini!

This was the real surprise of the trip. If you read my previous post, you know all about this place. Candle 79 is a vegan restaurant in the Upper East Side. A wonderful experience of the new. 

Becco

Friday night was the theater. We were going to see one of the hottest shows in New York: Pippin. On the night you go to the theater, your options on dinner are limited by time and space. First, you need to eat dinner early, as most shows start around 7:00 or 8:00pm. Second, is distance. You don’t want to have dinner in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn when you have to be in the theater district by 8:00pm. New York cab drivers are fast, but not that fast.

To solve this logistical Rubik’s cube, we went with Becco. This is one of Lidia Bastianich’s restaurant—home to the famous $25 all-you-can-eat pasta and the truly exceptional $25-a-bottle wine list. The wait staff, knowing that everyone is anxious to make a show, are nevertheless gracious, friendly, and efficient. Anyone going to the theater should stop here.

Dogs & Pizza

© 2013 Chris Terrell

First NYC Street Dog of 2014

We survived the snow storm, but it was still cold. With a late start and lunch a few hours away, I was hungry. As I approached the corner of East 55th Street and 5th Ave., I saw the holy grail. No trip to New York would be complete without a dog from the street.  (My first craving had hit me the night before around 10:43pm after the Broadway show. The only problem was that the temperature was a mere 10 degrees. (Alas, not even the most hard-scrapple street vendor will brave those kind of temperatures.) Anyway, I grabbed a dog with ketchup, mustard, and onions. Then off to the E Train and the 9/11 Memorial.

Afterwards, we went to one of my favorite pizza places in Manhattan: Lombardi’s. This is considered to be the oldest pizzeria in New York. Great pizza and the meatballs are the size of baseballs!  Added bonus! I could’ve sworn I saw a wise guy in the corner!

Chinese Carry-Out

If you have been keeping track, this was our last night in New York. This was the night that we were to have dinner at the big, destination restaurant, Perry St., one of Jean Georges Vongericthen’s restaurants. Dinner reservations were originally for 7:00pm, but got moved to 8:00pm. As I settled into a relaxing hot bath with a bourbon on the rocks, the thought of bundling up to catch the subway and venture out into the cold seemed a lot less appealing, even if it was a top notch restaurant. 

But this was New York!  

And how can you justify taking a glamorous Saturday evening in the city, and turn it into a stay-at-home, pajamas night? The answer came quickly: Chinese food and a movie.  When in doubt go local—this was the city that invented take-out Chinese! We placed a late night order for the requisite won ton soup, General Tso’s chicken, beef and broccoli, and egg rolls.  After a few delays from the relentless weather, dinner arrived.  No need to dress up (except some jeans and a t-shirt to meet the delivery person in the lobby),  and no need to catch a cab, and no pricey tab for dinner.  Just a great night, NYC style, which in some ways stands out as the highlight of the trip. We settled in with our Chinese food and watched a great French movie on my iPad. A perfect combination of the familiar and the modern.

As I mentioned in Part One of this post, eating is a social endeavor, which is why we go to restaurants. But sometimes we don’t need restaurants. All we need is each other.