Whenever my husband and I are in Uptown, we often pass Amore Victoria and wonder if we should try it. We usually resolve that the food wouldn't be very good and always end up at our favorite Barbette across the street. But this time, we were thrilled to see that Amore Victoria had a brand new rooftop patio! How wonderful! So, we crossed the street and entered on the street level.
Noone was there to greet us, except when we were able to flag down a server who gestured toward the back of the building. We made our way past the tables on the sidewalk, saw the parking lot and spotted an unpainted wooded staircase. Could this be the entrance to the rooftop patio? We climbed the staircase, took in the view, and tried to find a "greeter", or someone in uniform. Two servers, who looked like deer in the headlights, hurriedly passed us without even making eye contact or saying they'd be right with us. Fortunately, the busser was very friendly and motioned us to a table with a big tray on it. We walked toward the table and waited until someone took the tray before we could sit down. The busser promptly brought two red plastic glasses with water and a lemon wedge. (Why plastic glasses when all the others are glass? How tacky. Are we at Chucky Cheese?) We waited for what must have been 15 minutes before our server greeted us, saying he'd be right back for a drink order. We watched, for the next 10 minutes, as other tables in this very large section looked around for their server. We casually looked at the menu, knowing we'd have plenty of time to decide before the server had time to take our drink order. At least, we thought, the food COULD be good and make up for all of this waiting. The menu had way too many items. I thought of the wonderfully simple quality menus that Gordon Ramsey usually put together after resolving a kitchen nightmare. We chose the same red wine to make it easy, bruschetta with heirloom tomatoes and buffalo mozzarella, foccacia with mixed olives, potato gnocci with gorgonzola sauce for me and seafood pasta for my husband.
In the midst of all this running around, I noticed one of the owners at the top of the stairs casually cleaning the menus, completely oblivious to the needs of the servers. I couldn't believe it! Doesn't he realize that all the servers are totally "in the weeds"?!
After watching our server race back and forth, and up and down the staircase, he finally approached our table when he was deterred by two ladies to our left who were wondering where one of their entrees ended up. He briskly moved down the staircase one more time, returning with her entree. He took a deep breath, pulled out his tablet and asked us if we were ready to order a glass of wine. We gave him our entire order. We continued to watch the chaotic scene and just laughed about it. What more could go wrong here? The wine came promply after we ordered and 15 minutes later the "heirloom" tomato bruschetta arrived. The bread was overly toasted and the tomatoes were small and nothing special. The foccacia was marvelous. Much later, as we were watching the sun go down over Lake Calhoun, our steaming entrees arrived. My gnocci was fabulous...soft potato pillows in a creamy gorgonzola sauce. My husband's seafood pasta was also great, including the home made pasta. We felt bad for the server because he really was doing the best he could under the circumstances.
Even though most of our food was very good, we will not return to this comedy of errors. I can't believe Amore Victoria is still in business. It's too bad. They need a complete overhaul of their menu and they need to hire more servers! Gordon Ramsey, are you out there? This place needs a lot of shaking up!
The first piece of the
When I saw the trailers for
Ernesto and I finally decided to try
We saw the
The Frenchman introduced them with glee, the group that was all about percussion, consistency, and ongoing dance. They entered the stage; the older woman in full costume, the wiry conga player, the charismatic lead singer and electronic thumb organ player, the snare drummer, and the bell player, followed by the two elderly electric thumb organ players. The Cedar Cultural Center announcer did say that the last time
I was surprized to realize that
The other day we went to
The escalator took us to the grand showroom that really just moves you around a very large warehouse from kitchen to office, to bedroom. The signs lead you around, with promises that the checkout is near. We finally saw our Udden, its stainless steel gleaming in the distance. We decided that
Ernesto and I went to Playa del Carmen last week. This was the fifth time there. I just can't say enough about this wonderful place. I go to Playa for a truly relaxing vacation. The days started with running on the beach. It's quite a challenge to run on sand because it has very little resistance, and the tide coming in moves you from left to right. The big reward at the end of the run is to take off your running shoes and dive into the ocean. Breakfast included the usual
I just completed day one of jury duty. There must have been at least 100 people in the jury assembly room this morning. We watched a short video about the jury selection process and then we were free to sit for hours, until our name was called. I managed to keep myself preoccupied with work all morning; copying over all of the website files to the new site. We broke for lunch, a generous hour and a half. I am amazed at how many new restaurants there are in the skyways. It’s like a little, elevated city flowing with suits, long cues at all the soup & sandwich places, all abuzz during lunch rush. The afternoon was very long since I ran out of work and I just didn’t feel like starting a new book.
2:45pm. I hear my name as the loudspeaker cracks. Then I hear it again. I fumble for my things and make my way out of the “business center.” I frantically enter the main room, saying “Here!” so as not to miss my jury call. We lined up in the hallway, waiting to ascend to our jury room where we would be selected. The curly-haired judge called each of us and motioned toward the “comfortable chairs.” We were all seated and asked, in order, a series of general jury-related questions. Next, each potential juror was summoned to the witness chair to answer random questions posed by each lawyer. Some were accepted, based on their possible contribution to the case, and others were indirectly excused. The excused were inevitably sent back to "the pen."
I sat in the big room today, just to do something different. The two young guys at the next table were babbling about a lot of things, one guy doing all the talking, and the other simply acknowledging with his "ah-hahs." After the first group was called, without me, I slipped into a pseudo slumber, staying awake with all of the chatter, ring tones, and distant laughter. I opened my eyes at some point and went for my designated five minute break. Fortunately I brought the camera today. I took a number of shots in the skyway with the sun spilling in and people walking briskly to their next engagement. Something to do...edit photos. I read the paper again, just in case I missed something. I meandered into the quiet "business center" with a dog-eared paperback of Othello. I just couldn't concentrate on the Shakespearean English, so I reverted back to reading "Deception Point" again, just in case I missed something the first time around.
Every year, an
When Romina said that she and her husband had a restaurant just north of Madrid in a medieval town, I had a general idea of what it looked like; perhaps it was just outside of the main square that had been preserved for historical reasons and tourism. Sergio picked us up in Segovia and we made our way through the winding hills toward a walled city. As we entered through the prominent arch, we teased him saying that he had the keys to the city. The cobblestone streets led us toward the restaurant and the roundabout surrounding the tree, or "olma", which is also the name of the restaurant, "
I was so excited to go to Madrid this time around. The last time I was there, I was allergic to seafood so all I could have were spanish tortillas. For the most part, the trip was all about food; going to tapas bars and swilling Riojas. I guess that the trouble started when we realized how rampant theft was in Madrid. Anne and I went to a shoe store one evening where an elderly woman carefully eased under my jacket, slid the zipper down on my travel purse, and stole all my money. I didn't notice until the next day when I needed some cash. When we were at the train station, Anne felt a hand go for the zipper on her purse. Fortunately, she felt it and slapped the thief's hand saying "No!" Perhaps the thief was an amateur. A few days later, Ernesto and I were in a cafe looking out onto the street. An older man knocked hard on the window and pointed toward the floor. A man sat next to Ernesto seconds later. I looked again at the floor and discovered that there were a set of keys. I brought the keys to the barista, thinking that someone had lost them. When I returned, Ernesto realized that his bag was gone that had his new Leica and cellphone. They even made it more believable by having a woman return to the bar to ask for her keys. Most theft is very organized and usually involves at least three people. I am determined to come up with a theft-proof bag, complete with a taser.
We went to see Edgardo Mine, by Alfred Uhry, at the