It's a sad day on Quarrier Street: Blossom Deli is closing Saturday. I really
liked that place. The lunches were fantastic, the dinners were amazing and
elegant, and the service was stellar.
Bill Sohovich runs Blossom and Soho's in Capitol Market, and once upon a time,
Billy's at Southridge. Billy's was kind of eh. It was ok, but it suffered an
identity crisis from day one. It's comfort food, it's gourmet, it's Cajun. It
didn't last long... maybe we just weren't ready for it.
Soho's is good, and though it's a bit highbrow for lunch, their dinners are
nice, and I like that you can eat outside when the weather is conducive.
Blossom was awesome. For lunch it was just a deli with soups and sandwiches,
and everybody ate there. The place was always packed, and if you
didn't get there until noon, forget it — you were going to be waiting at
least fifteen or twenty minutes before you were seated. And it was
always worth the wait.
In the evening, Blossom turned into a candlelit restaurant with tablecloths,
wine lists, and gourmet selections. It was staffed by the same people at lunch
and in the evening, and they transformed as well — changing from rushing
around serving Charleston's lunch crowd to amiable and unhurried hosts and
hostesses offering wine, bread, olive oil, Parmesan.
The closure happened very suddenly — announced this week, in fact, though
I suspect it's been building for awhile. Late last year, Blossom stopped
offering dinner. I hoped that was maybe just a seasonal thing, but looking
back on it, I think it was a sign of things to come. Blossom finally reopened
for dinner again this summer. Martha and I went there for dinner last weekend,
but the menu was completely different, the rolls had been replaced by flat
crackers, and the crowd and selection seemed thin. Something was definitely
afoot.
Well... now we know.
Some things I'll miss: the wild mushroom salad in the evening. The plethora of
choices in the "create your own pasta" dinner. The chocolate mousse. The
Dinsmore. Rows of plates with chips on them just waiting for a sandwich. The
transformation of a streetside deli into an elegant after-hours restaurant.
The excitement of getting ready for dinner at Blossom with Martha, like we were
grown up or something. The Cobb salad. Pretending like I was going to get
something different for lunch, but always ending up with either the Dinsmore or
the Cobb salad. Occasionally getting the dinner special merely because it was
described so well, and being happily surprised when things like acorn squash
stuffed with rice tasted even better than they sounded.
Rumor has it the Reuben and the Dinsmore will be migrating to Soho's, as will
most of the staff. But beyond that, there won't be much left of Blossom after
Saturday except memories and an empty building. I'll be getting one last
Dinsmore on Friday. I will bring it back to my laboratory for a thorough
analysis before eating... just in case the rumors are false. The Dinsmore is
something that should not just die and fade away.
Neither is Blossom, but reality is, unfortunately, what it is.
My new breadmaker arrived today. It's truly a modern marvel — fully
computerized, adjusting the baking cycle to ambient temperature and humidity as
well as the temperature of the ingredients. It even has the yeast in a separate
compartment, and it adds it at the optimal time for a perfect loaf. By
comparison, the old breadmaker I've had for fifteen years — workhorse
though it may be — is just a few steps up from a mixer stuck inside an
oven with crossed fingers.
I'm baking the first loaf now, it should be ready soon. The baking cycle on the
new machine is about twice as long for basic white bread, which puts it right
around four hours. The first hour is spent in an "idle" state. There's even an
indicator marked "rest" on the display for this part of the cycle. I'm not sure
what it accomplishes exactly, but since this is my first loaf, I'm going to try
to trust the process a little.
This purchase came as a result of three people in this house now taking
sandwiches in for lunch. I found I was making a lot more bread than before, and
decided it was time for a) a machine with a greater capacity, and b) something
new, since the old workhorse strains a bit in its old age and despite still
working, is certainly well past its prime. The new breadmaker can make loaves
more than double the size of the old one, the price was decent, and it got
pretty stellar reviews across the board, so that was good enough in my opinion.
It's a lot quieter. The old one sounded like a Volkswagen. The new one just
kind of hums, though there were some odd pops when it released the yeast from
its little optimized prison. Not a big deal, just a different. The recipes in
the instruction manual call for much less yeast, though, so I've had to tweak
my basic bread recipe just a bit.
I kind of feel like I can take liberties with my own recipe and forgo the ones
in the book for now since I've been making about a loaf a week the last couple
of years or so. We'll soon see if I'm wrong.
I'm going to add that I love the manual with this thing too. It has a bread
troubleshooting chart with pictures of failed loaves and some possible remedies,
and a list of the most common ingredients, a description of what they contribute
to the process, and some substitutions to consider. It's kind of like I'm in
the advanced class — Breadmaking 412, let's say.
The only thing I don't like so far besides the much longer baking cycle is the
lack of a window on top. I like to peek in and make sure everything is going
according to plan, and the manual specifically says don't do this because it
will really mess up the heating cycle. It's particularly bad this time because
it's the first time, and I really want to see what's going on inside.
But... hey, it's done, and it looks pretty good!
I'm pleased to report I have no complaints. Things are good. I have a new
breadmaker on the way, I'm caught up on my mailing lists, and I've got some new
music to listen to (Marillion, courtesy of
jedijawa). The American Dream®.
This, of course, is always where the other shoe drops, but I'm not going to worry
about that now.
I believe I'm going to get my old mountain bike out of mothballs in the next week
or so and see if I can get it road-ready. The weather will hopefully moderate
soon, and with autumn's cooler evening temperatures and turning leaves, it will
be one of the best times of the year for getting outside. Plus, I'm woefully out
of shape, and I'd like to at least make an effort toward changing that.
And... well, I'd like to explore a little off the beaten path. I used to do that
quite a bit. Something happened there and I stopped. Maybe it was The American
Dream®, which I definitely was not living at the time. Out on that
road less traveled, I discovered who I was.
At some level I'm still that person, but perhaps a muted version of him, fattened
like a calf and complacent. I never wanted to become that way... yet here I am.
Let's see what's out there.
Ah, Internet memes. Aren't they fun? They used to be, back when they lasted
more than a few days. I think the days of the long-lasting meme are coming to
an end, though, and that is a sad day indeed.
So to pay tribute to this dying breed, here is a list of the top five Internet
memes of all time.
- 5. Rickrolling
-
I don't know what started this, but it looks like it's never gonna give up. I
only hope for Mr. Astley's sake that he gets paid royalties every time somebody
gets Rickrolled... especially since one of the videos on YouTube has almost 39
million views so far. You know, I used to actually have this record, and this
once was a popular song (number one on
Billboard and numerous other charts worldwide). Which begs the question,
of course: when was it more popular, 1988 or today?
- 4. Chuck Norris is awesome
-
Of course, if I didn't say that, he'd just come whip my ass. Honestly, this is
one I just don't get. Chuck Norris superlatives, taken to the extremest of
extremes, like "Some people wear Superman pajamas. Superman wears Chuck Norris
pajamas." and "Chuck Norris doesn't mow his lawn, he stands on the porch and
dares it to grow." have become very popular for some reason. Me? I don't care
about Chuck Norris. I'd ask you not to tell him, but I'm sure he already knows.
- 3. LOL Cats
-
If someone told me the Internet was powered by cats, I might just believe
them. And you know, in a world where you can take pictures of cats, put words
on them, and watch it turn into a huge sensation, well... yeah, I guess
anything's possible.
- 2. All your base are belong to us
-
If you really must know, I've been dying to figure out how to squeeze that
phrase into this blog somewhere.
Mix poor translation of an old video game with Internet magic, and you can find
the phrase "All your base" almost anywhere. And I guarantee you if you said it
to someone, they would know exactly what you were talking about. Well, kind of.
"You have no chance to survive make your time. Hahaha!"
— Cats
- 1. Whassup!
-
This is truly the big dog, no question. This made the rounds around the turn
of the century when meme propagation was much more difficult than today.
"Whassup!" quickly became the greeting of choice among dudes, dude-ettes, and
basically everyone — and, it spawned several clones ranging from the
Superfriends to random old ladies. It started as a Super Bowl commercial,
jumped on the Internet, mutated several times, jumped off again, and became
known to practically everyone, even those who had never seen the original
commercial. This, in my mind, makes "Whasssup!" the number one Internet meme
of all time.
Sorry Chuck.
I've got quite a few for the "honorable mention" list, which may pop up here
another day. In the meantime, if you have a different opinion or you think
there's one I forgot, by all means let me know.
School is back in full swing and we're falling into its perennial rhythm. It's a
little different this year having two in school. Since one of them is largely
self-sufficient regarding getting to and fro and getting things taken care of,
though, it's very much like having just one, or remembering what that was like.
A preview of the future, though, certainly.
I'm the designated "picker-upper" after school. It's not a firm rule, things
sometimes happen, like on the first day when I forgot. (In my defense, it wasn't
really discussed — at least I don't remember it, and that's the same thing,
right?) Every evening, the kids are out on the playground and there are always
some on the swings, kicking their legs out and pumping the engine of gravity,
swaying back and forth like pendulums. It's a strong visual for me —
always has been — and it's something I actively look for when I go to the
school.
The rule at our house is homework first, then whatever. It's been that way for a
long time. It usually takes a week or so for that to firm up, though —
apparently summer tends to melt young minds and turn them to goo. I can relate,
I was the same way. It's just a process of reminding until it becomes a habit,
then it becomes mostly automatic. I believe that's called setting expectations?
Anyway, it's worked so far. Hopefully it will work for Andrew. I hope all
these old tricks work for him... I don't know if this old dog could learn any new
ones in that department.
After "whatever" comes baths and bed, and then glorious silence for the parents.
We really don't even watch TV in the evening anymore, having decided it's mostly
crap, and being pretty satisfied to restrict it to the evening news and
Letterman. I mentioned earlier that I
always thought my parents were angry, bitter people — but after having
children of my own, I realized they were probably just tired. I'm going to
revise that statement now by removing the word probably.
And this week, I've noticed the sun setting just a little bit earlier. It's
definitely the time of year of it. This is just the beginning — September
is when it really becomes noticeable. That's right around the corner, of
course... the progression of the seasons, an ancient rhythm which preceded me and
will remain after I am gone.
For now, I'll continue shuttling kids around, watching the pendulum tick and the
calendar turn, knowing this, too, is part of an ancient rhythm... making me a cog
in some grand cosmic machinery.
The Charleston Gazette annoys me of
late. I guess that means the Daily Mail
does too, but that's probably a given.
It's been a process. I used to subscribe to the paper, as recently as 2007. At
some point prior to that, I realized the only day I read the paper was Sunday,
the other days' editions ending up in the recycling bin unread. Fortunately
you can subscribe to Sundays only so I changed my subscription to match my
lifestyle. Over time the Gazette and Daily Mail combined their efforts into a
merged Saturday edition and offered it alongside the Sunday edition for the
same price. But after giving it a few weeks, I found it was little more than
a glorified sports program and, by fiat, declared it DOA.
It's good to be king.
Anyway, that's not what did it. What did it was their billing department. I've
got almost all the household bills automated. This came partly from the desire
to free up the actual time I spent paying bills, and partly because I felt
(and feel) getting mailed paper bills in the 21st century was (and is) stupid
and inefficient. The Gazette ended up on an ATM card for some reason... I've
forgotten why or how, but it did. And it stayed there for years, working just
fine, and the payment got zapped out automatically without fail. Until the
card expired.
Apparently, getting the Gazette to bill to a new card number is roughly
equivalent to solving a Rubik's Cube blindfolded. They managed to bill the
new card number — once — then started sending out paper bills like
a Nixon-era company. So I just didn't pay them, and as a result, the
newspaper stopped coming. One morning shortly after this, the delivery person
put a piece of black electrical tape on the paper delivery box, as if it were
an errant cow in need of a branding iron. And although I removed that little
piece of tape because I didn't like the way it looked, that was the end of
newspapers coming to my house.
The paper box sits largely vacant now, though at two separate points this
summer, I discovered the nests of animals inside it — birds the first
time, wasps the second. Curious that both these animals can use paper to
build their nests.
This weekend, the Charleston Newspapers website took a flying leap off the
digital cliff and didn't get back up for about seven hours. It did eventually
come back up, but not until after this perfectly-timed Facebook
comment from Steven Allen Adams:
Hey, the Charleston Gazette website is down, but Kanawha Valley Live is
working just fine. Come on over. http://kvlive.net/
This isn't the first of the Gazette's website woes. Earlier this year, the
site was serving out malware via one of its advertising networks. Speaking of
which, Mr. Owl wants to
know: how many popups does it take to pay the bills? Looks like at least two,
and one giant slider from C&O Motors. So three? Three.
You know, I really don't mean to shit on the local newspaper. I've worked for
a couple of them so I feel an affinity, and there really is some good stuff to
be found at the Gazette (and maybe even the Daily Mail). And, I read recently
(and can't remember where, dammit!) that a local press is perhaps the ordinary
citizen's last defense against unbridled police brutality — a statement
whose profundity mustn't be overlooked.
But with stunts like this, they make it far too easy.
On Goodbye, Blossom, Martha said: We can still dress up and go to Laury's. Or Aubrey's. Or even Soho's, if/when I get over being mad.