Gingerbread Sculptures

For our first Christmas excursion we went to the Grove Park Inn Gingerbread House viewing (many of my favorites weren’t houses hence the title) as it was free and close.  I was a bit surprised to see how many people were there to see the sculptures, and I heard from a friend’s mom that she went during the week, and it was crowded then too.

My honey and I enjoyed it, and LB just enjoyed all the people watching so I think it’ll stay in the win column.  Below are my favorites.

traditional selection from the youth group

Smurf on Earth

Getting Ready

Les Fleurs de l’Armour

The Gingerbread Van

Joyeux Noel

sewing machine

Posana

Our most recent dining out experience was at Posana, and overall our experience left much to be desired; although for some reason I cannot say that I would not return.  The interior is nice and swanky, but the tables are packed in very tightly.  They have a large banquette along the wall adjacent to the patio, and then they have four or five two tops opposite that abut against a half wall which creates a divide between the tables and the bar.  I know I’m a bit wider than normal, but I found it difficult to pass by without brushing either the tables on one side or the chairs for the banquette tables on the other side.  There are also several four top tables in the windows facing Biltmore/Broadway as well as plenty of seating at their gorgeous bar.  The proximity of the tables combined with the noise of the bar made private conversation a bit difficult, and at one point we weren’t able to hear each other at all as the server at the table to our left proclaimed the specials menu.  Our server simply pointed out the specials menu tucked into the regular menu and noted the correction that the pork special was replaced with lamb.

On other points of service, our server was woefully negligent.  We both ordered water to begin and my husband ordered a beer, while she was obtaining the water I perused their non-alcoholic drinks menu and decided on a ginger ale.  However, I was not able to detain our server long enough when she dropped our waters to place the order, even after two ma’ams and making eye contact with her.  She did stop at the neighboring table where they requested their check, so I decided to forgo the soda.  She returned to take our food order (the bartender brought my husband’s beer), but apparently it wasn’t enough to be worthy of her time as she came back to our table twice after that.  Once she dutifully inquired as to how our entrees were and promised to refill both of our almost empty waters, and the second time she picked up my credit card (which means that our waters were never refilled).  For a restaurant with an atmosphere and prices like Posana, I expect better service; even if our server is busy with other tables they should have more support staff, like food runners and busers, to refill water and pre-bus and handle general inquiries.

The vegetarian options were skimp throughout the menu; the appetizers contained a cheese plate along with the obligatory squash and zucchini appetizer.  The salads of course represent better, but only two were options for a pregnant woman with only one being appetizing for me.  Neither the dinner specials nor the entree menu had a single vegetarian option, and the small plate options were again composed of the obligatory zucchini and squash and mushrooms.  However, my mushroom gnocchi plate was tasty and a moderate portion, if fairly uninspired.  What was most surprising about our meal was my small plate portion was the same size as my husband’s entree portion.  His cost $19 while mine was $12, and yes his did have shrimp albeit a light topping of rock shrimp.  Additionally, for a restaurant that advertises and promotes their local sourcing, I wonder where the asparagus in my husband’s entree came from at this time of year?

I liked the look of the place, but the menu doesn’t contain much that would impel me to return, especially since I have no major gluten allergy.  For some reason I still cannot say that I wouldn’t return; they do have a patio across from Pack Square which might be nice in warm weather to sip cocktails and people watch.

Bouchon Street Food

I enjoy eating at Bouchon, and much to my delight they opened a fast food option, Bouchon Street Food, a while ago.  We’ve stopped there to cure my craving for french fries and aioli, and now that they’ve moved into an enclosed space in the courtyard adjacent to Bouchon, I stopped in for lunch last week after a long shopping spree for maternity clothes.

I generally abhor soda, but I love Orangina because it isn’t so saccharine sweet so I savored my Orangina while I waited for my farm to table crepe with of course my beloved herbed frites and aioli.  I sat at the counter which was empty while the banquette that occupies almost the entire wall opposite the bar had a few couples.  A relatively steady flow of customers came in while I had lunch in the late afternoon, and one couple even ate on the patio (although the high was less than sixty that day).  My crepe was hearty much like the crepes served at dinner at Bouchon, and the frites were savory and crisp and hot.  I’d love some additional vegetarian options, but my farm to table was a good value for $6.  After smelling another patron’s fleur (simply delicious nutella) crepe, I also ordered one, which was again the same hefty size as my savory crepe, and served with a dollop of whipped cream.

Bouchon Street Food is open for lunch, but they also do early dinner during the week with a bit later dinner on the weekend; as Bouchon doesn’t take reservations (and they are frequently packed due to all you can eat mussel nights Monday through Wednesday), their sister restaurant might be available to cure your crepe craving.

Boca

Before I was hit with this wretched cold, my honey and I had a night on the town with food and music.  We’re trying to get in as much fun and going out as possible before we have to also find a babysitter.  For dinner my husband chose Boca, a new addition to Lexington Avenue, and I couldn’t resist a menu with two of my favorite Spanish words: jicama and Oaxacan.

We arrived sometime between 7:30 and 8, so they were relatively busy for a Thursday night.  I saw one other empty table, which was a four top miserably situated to be shot with an arctic blast every time the front door opened.  Although we were sat behind a protective planter, we were acutely aware each and every time the door was opened, especially if a few people were trying to squeeze into the tiny foyer to talk with the hostess.  Boca leaves no space unused, and with a prime spot who can blame them for trying to maximize every square inch.  However, we were nestled into an alcove with another two top and a six top; this is no restaurant for large people, because if I had been anymore pregnant I’m not certain I could have managed to sit close enough to the table to avoid touching the seat behind me.  As a foil the ladies’ rest room was huge.  In the warmer months, they have a garage door that looks like it will open to provide patio access, and I look forward to dining on the patio enclosed by their large water feature.

Our service was prompt and professional by both the server and the hostess; although our server did not mention any specials, and from our seat the specials board wasn’t readily visible in the dimly lit atmosphere.  I opted to stick to the appetizers menu for my dinner; I tried the chickpea salad and the mushroom empanadas, while he chose the ceviche of the day, jicama salad, and the entree he tried to push me into ordering, black Oaxacan mole enchiladas.  Everything we ordered was served in hearty portions well worth the price, but the executions of a few items fell short of our expectations.  My chickpea salad which promised almonds, pomegranate seeds, and a vinaigrette came sans; the greens, goat cheese, and fried chickpeas, however, were served in abundance (there was actually too much goat cheese).  The jicama and chile lime dish would have been better if it had actually been jicama and chile lime rather than the sweet chile sauce we received.  As it was the biggest dish, the enchiladas were also the biggest disappointment.  I definitely dodged a bullet by not ordering this dish; the sauce was so searingly spicy that even my smoker husband who adores more heat that I can stand was taken aback.  He ordered it with tofu, and he reported the tofu was bland and probably cooked by someone who doesn’t actually eat tofu.  On the bright side the rice was perfectly cooked and delightfully fresh with the taste of cilantro.

My mushroom empanadas were smoky, and unlike the mole on the enchiladas, their smoky spice was perfectly balanced with the blandness of the corn pastry; I have been craving those things all week long, but I think pairing them with a nice cold beer will make them even better so I’m abstaining for now.  My husband enjoyed his mahi- mahi ceviche.

Our meal was mostly pleasant, and hopefully Boca will iron out the kinks in their execution of the menu items without reducing their portion sizes; again, I am looking forward to sitting on the patio with sound of their water feature and enjoying a cold beer and some mushroom empanadas.

There’s No Place Like Home

I love my husband’s family; they are really hospitable, kind, fun, and loving, but there is nothing better than sleeping in one’s very own bed surrounded by kitties who have missed you.  All of the four legged babies seem clingy; they are milling about my legs and resting at my feet in shifts.  

We got to see all of his aunts (which we haven’t since his grandmother died over two years ago), and on his father’s side I met two cousins that he hasn’t seen in twelve years.  His family keeps spreading west, so we now have four reasons to visit Texas.  Double shame on us for leaving the camera at home!

Being on the coast, I was reminded of how I love mountains and cooler temperatures, especially lower humidity.  The little coastal town his parents live in is much like Asheville in that tourism and the medical industry are major facets of the economy as well being more progressive and left of center than the surrounding county; however, Asheville is so wonderfully eccentric and funky.  Ahh, Asheville how I love thee, sidewalks to nowhere and all!