Ah, the salty ocean breezes. The sandy dunes. The splintery boardwalk...
Arrived at my Dad's weekend pad in Ocean Grove, NJ this afternoon, which is just a few minute walk down the aforementioned boardwalk to Bruce Springsteen's old stomping grounds. Yes, I loaded up several favorite Bruce bootlegs (all Darkness-era and earlier) onto my iPod, just for the occasion. Yes, I am a dork.
Anyway, it's good to get here and really start relaxing after three fun but fairly intense days in NYC. As usual, too busy seeing my wonderful Noo Yawk friends to do much sightseeing, etc., though I did do something I'd never done before in my life — take a nap in Central Park. On Monday afternoon, after a fairly disappointing lunch at Asian soup noodle/dim sum joint Ollie's on the Upper West Side (I thought "stewed beef" meant soft, Pho-like strips of meat, not fist-sized beef stew cubes. What kind of maniac would think to pair them with delicate noodles?), I was walking through the Park near the Natural History Museum. It was an absolutely gorgeous day, upper 70s, sunny, gentle breezes caressing my cheek, the whole deal. I came upon a big stone outcropping about 10-15 feet high, thought it looked like a nice place to bask in the sun and read a magazine, so I climbed to the top and sat down. Here's the view from my rock:
After about 15 minutes of basking, I stretched out on my back, and felt the warmth of the rock soothing away all the pent-up tension from the last few weeks. It felt like I was communing with the real Manhattan Island, a piece of the earth that existed before skyscrapers, subways or even humans arrived. And then I drifted off to sleep.
I awoke about an hour later, wallet and person intact, and profoundly relaxed and happy in a way that I hadn't felt in, well, I can't remember how long. Which kind of set the tone for the rest of the trip, at least the happiness part.
Best Meal So Far: Very nearly a tie between the spaghetti limone I scarfed Monday night at Lil' Frankie's, and the house pasta at Cacio e Pepe, though the latter wins 'cuz the homemade pasta — which is tossed with pecorino romano and black pepper — is brought to your table in a GIANT HOLLOWED OUT ROMANO CHEESE.
Best Sandwich So Far: The Meatloaf sandwich (pictured above) at 'Wichcraft, which some of my old Revolver droogies turned me on to. Not quite as good as the meatloaf sandwiches I make when Carole makes her brown-sugar-and-ketchup=basted 'loaf, but damn fine nonetheless. And the size is perfect — just big enough to fill you up, but not so massive that you want to fall asleep at your desk afterwards.
Most mediocre meal, best location: Clam strips and fries, shared with my dad on an Asbury Park boardwalk bench overlooking the ocean. I could have eaten deep-fried rubber bands and still been smiling.
Best exchange with a DJ, possibly ever: Last night at the dingy (but very comfortable) little dive bar underneath Three of Cups, the DJ was rocking my world with a mix that included the Stooges, Humble Pie, Iron Maiden, Motorhead and early Metallica. Usually, when you make a request to a bar or club DJ, they shoot you a look like you just pissed in their beer, and say something dismissive like, "I'll look, but I'm not sure I have it." This guy, though, when I asked if he had any Dio, his eyes lit up. "Dio? Fuck yeah!" Asked if he perchance might favor us with some "Holy Diver" action, he said, "Fuck Yeah! HOLY DIVER!!!" And then, the very next song, he played it. While rocking out to the wee Mr. Dio, I looked across the room and caught the DJ's eye; he was rocking out, too, mouthing the lyrics ("You've been down too long in the midnight sea!") with even greater theatricality than I was. This, in a nutshell, is why I love metal.
More to come...
Fuck Yeah, Dio!!!!!!
Posted by: Greg Barbera | September 12, 2008 at 06:32 AM
Any chance of posting Carole's meatloaf recipe? That sounds mighty.
Posted by: moondog | September 12, 2008 at 09:47 AM
I just popped two Imodium after reading and viewing your food choices.
Meatloaf....bigtime YUM!
Posted by: Fred B. | September 12, 2008 at 04:41 PM
My man has got a cast iron stomach fer sure!
I didn't know you dug BROOOCE?
He seems like a likeable enough cat but I just can't get into the jams.
Posted by: Eric Colin | September 25, 2008 at 11:35 AM
Those ooo's were meant to be uuu's, BTW!
Posted by: Eric Colin | September 25, 2008 at 11:36 AM