The secret of the Irish

This St. Patrick's Day I think everybody should just come clean and admit what we all already know: Nobody actually likes Irish food.

Americans go through this elaborate ruse every March. "Oh look, it's corned beef and cabbage," we say. "Yummy, I'll have the shepherd's pie." Just shut up. We all know you'd rather have pizza or a burger. And there's nowhere near enough Guinness or Bailey's in the world to make bangers and mash even look edible.

Please understand that I don't mean any harm to the wonderful country of Ireland. I love everything else about that country and enjoyed every second I spent there. The people are so friendly and the atmosphere is so relaxed. (Clearly I didn't spend any time in Northern Ireland.) It's just that the cuisine leaves a lot to be desired.

I only got to spend a few days in Ireland when I went in 2001 but I did my best to sample the local flavor. On our first night in Dublin we went to a traditional Irish pub and I ordered something called chicken boxty which the waiter said was common Irish dish. It was okay but certainly nothing special. It's sad but my best meal in all of Ireland came from Supermacs, an Irish version of McDonalds.

To be fair, I understand that St. Patrick's Day is more about the drinking than the eating. Still, it would still be nice to have something worth washing down with all that green beer.

This St. Paddy's Day I plan to stick to normal cuisine. My ridiculously gaudy shamrock socks will have to show my Irish pride for me.

Disney on speed

My dad always said the only way I'd ever make it to Disney World was through the Make-A-Wish Foundation. I guess it was my own fault for not getting cancer 15 years earlier.

But last week I finally managed to make it to Disney, courtesy of a free trip I won. Sure it was just two nights and we had to stay at a child-focused hotel, but it was worth it.

We got into Orlando a little before noon on Sunday, checked in at the hotel, and headed straight for Epcot. For a place whose acronym stands for Experimental Prototype Community of Tomorrow, I really would have expected better bathroom technology. Seriously, could they not have anticipated that the future would require more than two stalls in a ladies room?

And aside from that, I really would have hoped that the future could have worked out an automatic toilet that flushed upon completion rather than when I entered the stall.

But enough about toilets. I have so much more to criticize.

We hit all the major high points of Epcot, including the GM Test Track and the space ride inside the big silver golf ball looking thing at the front of the park. We made our way through the various countries and finished out the day by watching the fireworks display over the water.

The next day we went to the Magic Kingdom which was, thankfully, far less crowded. We made a beeline for Space Mountain as soon as they opened the gates and followed it up with It's a Small World and The Hall of Presidents.

Never having been to a Disney park before, I was a little surprised that the rides were hardly rides at all and certainly not scary. In fact, it was pretty much like going on the same ride over and over again. They herd you into a slow-moving vehicle that takes you through an indoor animatronic journey. Sometimes they change it up and you get into a fake boat instead of a fake car.

It's probably fair to say that the extent of my Disney knowledge comes from the Simpsons episode where they go to Krustyland. And that brings us to the final (and best) day of the trip when we hit Universal Studios for its new Simpsons ride.

In life, if you're lucky, you experience a few moments where it feels like things were created just for you. This is what the Simpsons ride was for me. Even waiting in line was fun as we enjoyed all the subtleties created for the ride.

After two go-rounds on the Simpsons ride, we did Disaster and Twister and the Mummy rollercoaster. By the time we went on a few more rides it was time to head back to the hotel to catch our shuttle back to the airport.

Now a note about our hotel. As I said before, we won the trip and therefore did not get a choice in where we stayed. The Nickelodeon Family Suites would have been the last place I would have stayed if I had a choice, but I really don't have any complaints. I would highly recommend it for anyone traveling with children.

Overall, I think I dealt pretty well with being out of my element, i.e. around kids. Rich reminded me that this wasn't Vegas -- we were traveling in their world.

Our time at the hotel was greatly improved once we located the bar. For the record, it takes three drinks for me to forget that I'm surrounded by screaming children.

I overheard one conversation while waiting in line for a ride and I think it was more telling than anything I could say. A little girl asked her father why her little brother was crying. The father pauses, and then say "Because it must be his turn to cry."

I honestly don't understand how parents can manage to do Disney or any other kind of vacation with kids. Traveling without kids is difficult enough. Add to that a stroller, diaper bag, snacks, and activities to keep your tired child occupied, and I no longer doubt why my parents never took us anywhere.

Mom and Dad -- You're officially forgiven. And I'm done with Disney.

Fiscal Fun on the Fourth

The Fourth of July has always been my favorite national holiday, next to my birthday. Every year I try to do something truly American to celebrate the day.

This year was no exception. This Fourth of July I decided to exercise my right as an American to act with great financial irresponsibility and gamble away my hard-earned dollars in Atlantic City.

Actually, let's back up a little. I really did partake in a bit of our county's rich history as we started out the long weekend in Philadelphia, with my first visit to the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall. I just love this history crap, so I got a kick out of seeing the very place where our forefathers signed the Declaration of Independence and where the Constitution was born.







With the historical part of the visit out of the way we switched gears and headed straight for authentic Philly Cheesesteaks at Pat's and Geno's. I'm really not sure what all the fuss is about. To be honest, the cheesesteaks were okay, but I've had better... and that was in my college's dining hall.





The next stop was at a little place called the Naked Chocolate Cafe, where we shared some kind of peanut butter and chocolate torte and a mini chocolate fudge cake. They were amazing and I'm thoroughly embarrassed to even admit this but we couldn't finish either of them.





We finished out our visit to Philadelphia by taking in a performance of Les Miserables at the Walnut Street Theater, the oldest continuously operating theater in the nation.

We left Philly and headed to Atlantic City on July 3rd, where we took in the pre-holiday fireworks from our hotel room in the new Waterfront Tower at Harrah's. The fireworks came so close that it reminded me of my days in Baghdad. (Or what I imagine Baghdad would be like, had I ever gone.)

Our actual Fourth got off to a nice start with a great breakfast and a trip to the beautiful pool area, complete with free drinks. In honor of the Fourth, Harrah's had this nifty giveaway every half hour. If your name was called, you had 15 minutes to claim you money. I thought you had to be playing at the time in order to win, so I was only half-listening to the names called while up in the hotel room.

It was then that I heard the most beautiful mispronunciation of my name ever. I'd won. I didn't know what I'd won, but I'd won something. I shot up out of bed and took off for the elevators, running across the casino floor. Simultaneously, Rich heard my name called and figured I was fast asleep and oblivious to my win. He tried calling my cell phone, which didn't work because apparently the one amenity lacking in the new hotel tower is cell phone service. He started and O.J. Simpson-style airport dash and eventually we met up at the prize table. I was the lucky recipient of $1000!


I can't even describe how good it feels to win. All I know is how much more fun an Atlantic City trip can be when you come home a winner.

Coming home, however, is always a treat in itself. There's no toilet paper like home.

Just my luck

Usually when the phone rings before 7 a.m. you're about to get bad news. The opposite happened to me today.

It was my dad calling to tell me that one of my mother's co-workers had called him to tell him she saw my name in the Baltimore Sun and I'd won a trip.

I enter so many contests that I didn't even know which one this could be. I thought it was for a trip to Florida, perhaps Tampa Bay.

As it turns out, I won free airfare for two and two nights in Orlando, home of Disney and all that it entails.

Here's the funny part. Our accomodations are at the Nickelodeon Family Suites. Only I would win a trip to a child-themed resort. Me, the girl who needs sedation to be within 50 feet of an anklebiter, will be lounging by the urine-flooded pools at a hotel that caters to snot-nosed tax-deductions.

Don't get me wrong -- I'm very excited to have won and I'm certainly not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I count my blessings for being so lucky to win as many contests as I do. And secretly, I do have to admit I'm pretty psyched at the thought of a Sponge Bob-themed suite.

I've never done the Disney thing before so here's the question. We'll have one full and maybe one half day to see what Disney has to offer. Where do we go and what do we do?

The restaurant with A.D.D.

Food is an instrumental part of any good vacation. So it sure was a good thing we managed to squeeze in a few really good meals after the, um, interesting dining experience we had our first night in Vegas.

A few days before our trip, Linda Lou, Rich's host over at Harrah's called to ask if there was any way we would be willing to go to an entirely comped dinner over at Cafe Martorano, the newest Italian restaurant at the Rio Hotel and Casino. She'd even sent a limo for us. Somehow we mustered up enough strength to oblige.

Of course I'm still not entirely sure what I make of the restaurant itself nor its proprietor, wannabe celebrity chef and soon-to-be reality TV show star Steve Martorano. The food was good enough but I could have done without the, ahem, attitude and atmosphere.

It was as if the restaurant was in severe need of some Ritalin. The decor and music literally changed every few minutes. You'd go from a disco ball and Sinatra music to strobe lights and Baby Got Back, all before you had a chance to scarf down the $1200-a-block cheese.

Ah, the insanely expensive cheese. This is where the attitude came in. Our waiter took great delight in telling us how much money Martorano spends on his ingredients and how that made the food so good. As I said before, the food was fine -- I particularly enjoyed the macaroni -- but if the food is really that good, I don't need my greasy waiter continuously bragging about it throughout the meal. Good food should speak for itself. Besides, by the third or fourth time that the waiter barked "Gimme your plate" I knew we'd lost a bit of the magic.

I'm also not too impressed with some of the restaurant's policies. For one, there's a strict no changes and no substitutions policy. Chef Martorano says he makes his food one way and one way only. Now I'm a very picky eater and we dine out practically everyday. I honestly can't remember the last time I ordered something without adding, subtracting, or substituting something. If I'm paying for something, it's going to be what I want. (Of course we weren't paying for anything that evening so I had to suck it up.) Somehow I managed to survive this particular meal but only because they basically brought us everything on the menu to sample so I could pick and choose what I wanted.

The other quirky rule is that you can't have a cocktail with dinner. Apparently Martorano believes a drink would distract from the taste of his food. We learned this the hard way when the drink Rich had just gotten at the bar was quickly abducted from the table. Sadly, the drink may have been the tastiest thing that night.

The appetizers included Martorano's homemade meatballs, shrimp scampi bread, and an eggplant stack made up of breaded eggplant, fresh mozzarella and other things I've only heard of on the Food Network. The meatballs were okay but nowhere near as good as the ones my dad makes. I'm generally not a fan of shrimp but I did enjoy the shrimp scampi bread. The eggplant stack was okay too, but mostly because of the cheese.

For our entree, we sampled the chicken cutlet downtown, some kind of sea bass (I passed on this) and the specialty macaroni. I enjoyed the chicken but it was nothing special. I'm also not clear on what makes the specialty macaroni so special. They could have substituted Kraft dinner and I wouldn't have known any better.

I lost track of how many desserts there were but I do remember a very good white cupcake topped in chocolate and some kind of mind-blowing cake. I was so stuffed that I passed on the cannoli and ice cream. For some reason, the waiter kept bragging about how the ice cream was Haagen-Dazs and encouraging us to try it. They must have some sort of deal with them.

The highlight of the evening wasn't the meal but rather a nice perk the casino threw in for us after dinner. They gave us $300 in promotional chips to play. Not being regular table game players, we headed straight for the roulette table where we were lucky enough to parlay the $300 in promotional chips into $300 in actual money.

While it may not sound that way, I actually really enjoyed the evening. A free limo, dinner, drinks, and $300? I could learn to live like this.

Another anniversary in Vegas

What could possibly top a trip to Vegas for our second wedding anniversary? How about another trip to Vegas for our third anniversary, this time comping the hotel stay, all our food, and throwing in free airfare?

Yeah, that'll do it.

This may have been a return trip to Las Vegas for us but we still had a lot of firsts to enjoy there.

It was our first time staying at Caesar's Palace, our first time in Downtown Vegas, our first trip to the Hoover Dam and the first time we saw a Cirque du Soleil show.

It was also the first time I insisted on switching hotel rooms.

In my defense, I was hardly being unreasonable. The first room they gave us didn't have a bathroom door. Now you can call me old fashioned if you like but I've always subscribed to the belief that what happens in the bathroom, stays in the bathroom.

(This would probably be a good time to mention a disturbing trend I've noticed with regard to the bathrooms in hotel rooms lately -- the door is becoming less and less present. We stayed in a beautiful room at Bally's Atlantic City a few weeks back but the bathroom had a swinging salon-style door. Even the room we switched to had just a partly frosted glass door. Am I wrong to expect a little toilet privacy nowadays?)

I should also add that the second room they gave us was much nicer and featured a large whirlpool tub next the bed. It also had a slightly less-than-classy mirror above the bed but the hotel tower was built in the 80s so I'll forgive that along with the popcorn ceiling.

But this trip was about so much more than just our hotel room. It was also about my life-long dream to visit the Hoover Dam and recite the same lines as spoken in such venerable movies as Vegas Vacation and Beavis & Butthead Do America. I can't even begin to explain how big a thrill it was to utter the words "Uh, is this a God damn?" and "Damn. Heh heh. I'll be damned," a la Beavis. I wish I was joking.

Seriously though, the Hoover Dam was more impressive than I imagined. Aside from the fact that the hydro-electricity it produces only came as an added bonus and wasn't part of the original plan, I'm absolutely floored by the thought that a government project could finish two years before expected and at no cost to the American taxpayer. Ah, the Depression era. Good times.

Anyway, now that we've completed two full Vegas trips, I still feel like we've only scratched the surface. There's so much more to see, do, and eat.

And speaking of eating, stay tuned for my next post where I'll describe a somewhat unusual evening at what is meant to be a new Vegas hotspot.

If you're going to San Francisco...

Forget about the stupid flowers in your hair. If you're going to be in San Francisco for any reason, the one absolute must-do is the Taste of San Francisco food tour.

I can't say enough positive things about this incredible, edible journey through the North Beach neighborhood. (But watch me try anyway.) To put things in perspective, I honestly don't think there's ever been a time that I've opted for bread over chocolate. Heck, our guide almost made me think about cooking a meal for once. But just almost.

We started out at Caffe Roma Coffee Roasting Co. where we sipped cappuccino and learned about what makes for good coffee. As someone who generally dislikes warm beverages, specifically coffee drinks, I was actually very interested in the roasting process.

I must say I enjoyed my very first cappuccino ever far more than I thought I would. I had no idea that roasting is what actually releases the aroma and flavor from the coffee bean, nor that the longer a bean goes between roasting and brewing, the more acidic it becomes. This accounts for the bitter taste that I dislike in the first place. But because Caffe Roma roasts its beans daily, there isn't that same acidity.

From coffee we moved onto chocolate -- specifically truffles. We ventured into XOX Truffles which is recognized by USA Today as one of the top three chocolatiers and by Chocolatier Magazine as one of its top ten favorite artisan chocolatiers. (Note to self: How is it possible that there is a magazine focusing on chocolate and I don't have a subscription?)

I thought we would get to taste one or two truffles at XOX but instead, they handed each of a us a bag with one of every flavor they serve. I think the franboise/raspberry was my favorite. I have no idea what franboise is but I love it.

We made a quick stop at the church which refused to marry Joe DiMaggio and Marilyn Monroe, and then it was off to what I can only describe as heaven on earth -- Liguria Bakery.

Liguria Bakery is family-run and has been around since 1911, making only focaccia. The sons come in overnight and start baking and then go home when the mom opens the shop at 8 a.m. When everything is gone, which is usually by 11 a.m. at the very latest, they close for the day.

By the time we got to the bakery around 10:30, they only had three varieties left: onion, raisin, and pizza. We sampled each of them and every single bite was magical. This wasn't some of that crappy focaccia you find on sandwiches at Ruby Tuesday or some other chain restaurant. This was real, melt-in-your-mouth, savor-every-bite goodness. They say a lot of it has to do with the water in San Francisco so it can't be replicated elsewhere. Just my luck.

We polished off the focaccia before heading to another bakery. The Italian French Baking Co. of San Francisco has everything from sourdough bread to some of the softest biscotti I've ever had. (Incidentally, if anyone can explain to me the difference between mondel bread and biscotti, I would really like to hear it.) I particularly enjoyed the chocolate-dipped macaroon, a far cry from the canned variety served at Passover.

This stop also included a tour of the back of the bakery with two huge brick ovens that have been in use for 80 years. Several San Francisco restaurants get their bread from this bakery and it's pretty clear why they do.

With sourdough in hand, we ventured over to the Palermo Deli for olive oil and salami. I don't really like or eat either of them so I was a bit lost during the discussions. Plus, it was really chilly and I had my thoughts set on the next stop on the tour.

By the time we reached theVictoria Pastry Co., the last tasting on the tour, I was pretty much stuffed. I was so stuffed that I only ate one cream-filled pastry. I actually turned down a second one. This is very possibly a first.

We wrapped up at the Purple Onion, the club where the likes of Robin Williams and the Smothers Brothers got their starts. We didn't eat anything here but our guide was kind enough to give us recommendations for anything at all food related in the Bay Area.

At this point we went back to our hotel room, polished off our doggie bags from the tour, and set out in search of more of that glorious San Francisco food.

Looks like a visit to Weight Watchers better be my next stop.

Our visit to the other bay

Prior to this past week, the extent of my San Francisco knowledge came directly from the opening credits of Full House.

Now I've learned enough to know that the classic 80s sitcom wasn't even filmed there.

But I also learned that San Francisco is a pretty cool city, especially once you learn to stop fearing the hills.

We arrived on Tuesday and navigated our way on BART from the Oakland Airport to our home away from home, the Orchard Hotel. Located right on the Powell Street Cable Car line, the hotel's location couldn't be better. And the free internet access and breakfast sweetened the deal even more.

After a nice afternoon nap we ventured into Chinatown, just a block from the hotel. We expected to find some good food and prices but weren't overly wowed. It seemed more touristy than anything and Rich certainly lamented the lack of vegetables in our chow mein.

Wednesday, the Fourth of July, brought us a San Francisco City tour as well as our visit to Alcatraz. The city tour covered all the important tourist spots like the Golden Gate Bridge, the Painted Ladies/Postcard Row, a view from atop Twin Peaks, the Castro, Union Square, and a drive past what we were told was Haight-Asbury. (I considered a return visit to actually explore the Haight-Asbury neighborhood but my meager hippie tendencies, which really don't extend beyond my Birkenstocks, voted no.)

We finished off the Fourth with a dinner of dungeness crab, which I found to be surprisingly tasty. It's clearly not my beloved steamed crabs of Maryland, but the garlic sauce served as a satisfactory one-time substitute for Old Bay. If only we could get enormous crabs like that here and not have to sell off vital organs to afford it.

We reserved Thursday for our little jaunt down into Silicon Valley so Rich could complete his work component of our trip. I drove the sporty little blue Mustang up and down my carefully planned route so we could hit all the big tech companies like Apple, Yahoo!, Google, Intel, etc. (Note: I only opted for the Ford Mustang after the Corolla I reserved was no longer available and I had to choose between the cute sports car and a ginormous sedan popular among the over-70 crowd.) We ended Thursday by taking in Jersey Boys at the Curran Theater.

Friday was definitely the highlight of the trip for me. We took the cable car to the top of Lombard Street and wandered down the windy street, expressing far too much enjoyment as cars tried to navigate the windy path. We wandered down to Washington Square and watched people do tai chi (presumably) until the start of our food tour. I can't rave about that tour enough and I'll elaborate on it in my next post.

I miss San Francisco. I really miss the weather where we enjoyed temps in the 60s and 70s all the time. I won't, however, miss the street people who always have their hands out. But hey, at least most of the panhandlers in San Francisco try to offer some sort of service in return for a donation. In Baltimore they just rob you.

I'd like to return to San Francisco one day, maybe even as part of a future cruise. You can't beat the weather and at least the hills would help me walk off some of the food I gorged myself on.

And speaking of food, be sure to stay tuned for my next post featuring the glorious food tour of San Francisco. Mmmmmmm. Focaccia!!!!

Tell me where to go

This is the chance you've all been waiting for. It's time to tell me where to go -- on vacation, that is.

Rich has off of work for the first week of July so we're trying to plan a nice little trip. The problem? We have no idea what to do or where to go. And we don't want to spend much money either.

Our views on the perfect vacation tend to vary somewhat. He wants excitement and plush accommodations, while relaxation and site-seeing top my list. Cruises have been a wonderful way to combine all of those interests but they're really expensive that time of year, especially with the Fourth of July holiday.

Further, neither of us are really beach people. We're not big fans of hot weather so an island locale is probably not the way to go.

My first thought was that this would be the perfect time to visit some of my family in the Providence/Boston suburbs/southern coastal Maine region. (I haven't exactly discussed this with any of them though so it may not even be a possibility.)

But in order to make it fulfill the excitement aspect that Rich requires, we would have to find something to accompany the visits with relatives. (I've already nixed tornado chasing. There's not enough life insurance in the world to make that a good idea.)

Unfortunately the Orioles are not playing in Boston during that week. We also haven't seen any Broadway shows coming to the area that we'd be desperate to see.

This is why I need you help. I need you all to design me a vacation. The person who comes up with the winning idea will get a 2006 JCPenney snowglobe.

Alisa meets Sin City

While I've been requested to provide a Las Vegas wrap-up edition of the Recovering Journalist, I'm finding it somewhat difficult to do so. As one of the last people in the world to visit Sin City, it's not exactly easy to make any unique or insightful comments.

Whatever I have to say has likely been said before. You've all taken the same pictures that I took, been harassed by the same porn peddlers on the Strip, and breathed the same secondhand smoke. You took the same gondola ride at the Venetian, saw the same water shows in front of the Bellagio, and dined at the same buffets.

That's because everything in Vegas is perfectly scripted and designed to grab your attention and preferably, your cash. It's total sensory overload times 100.

I do have to admit that I was taken aback by the fact that everything in Vegas is artificial -- every tree, every body of water, and pretty much all of the women too.

Over on the east coast our trees are naturally occurring for the most part. Vegas has trees too but they've all been put there in recent years and spaced just-so.

In a town where everyone is on vacation, the city's promotions office has done a nice job of convincing you to suspend any sense of reality (read: fiscal responsibility) and let loose. I tend not to be very good at that but I tried.

I enjoyed a $22 alcoholic concotion in a large purple tube. We ordered room service. I used two Vegas ATMs, with service charges of $4 a pop. This is from the girl who has been known to comparison shop before buying a pack of gum. So how's that for suspending reality?

To be honest, we had a really good time and will likely be planning a trip back, as long as I can be guaranteed a plasma tv in my bathroom again.