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Hey folks, how's it going? Just a quick update. This has been a pretty quiet week; not too many exciting things, really -- and that's just fine with me, really.
An exception would be Wednesday night, when![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lucki_dog and I grabbed dinner at Flatiron, down near the Convention Center. We'll talk about the restaurant in a second, but first the mode of transport. Lucki often rides around on a scooter, and being as my car doesn't have A/C, it seemed just as well to take the scooter down to the restaurant. I've decided that riding on the back of a scooter is a weird cross between riding a bike and riding a horse. A bike because, well, it is. And a horse, because I often felt almost like I was posting (def: post3, #10), anticipating bumps and curves. My thighs are still a little sore today -- it feels like I was having athletic sex or something. Anyway, I kinda liked the scooter. I totally don't have the money to get one, but if I did I think it would be a nice way to bridge the gap between my desire not to use gas and my desire to go places the bus isn't terribly efficient for (read: most places).
Anyway. Flatiron (link is broken atm, but it's the right address) is a really tasty restaurant down near the Convention Center. Its website states that it's in the Arena District, which I think is unfair to itself (but then, I have a generally negative opinion of the Arena District, so). It's actually on the OTHER side of High Street, at (roughly) Naghten and 4th, in a little skinny building reminiscent of NYC's Flatiron Building, hence the name. Flatiron specializes in barbecue and vaguely New Orleanian dishes. It seems like a really odd combination, but it actually works quite well. Aaron had the N. Carolina style barbecue (i.e. a pulled pork sandwich with mustard barbecue sauce), and I had a muffuletta. I was especially interested/excited by the muff.; while a well-done muffuletta is one of the pinnacles of sandwich-making, there are a lot of substandard ones. This one didn't disappoint. The balance of olive salad to meat to cheese to bread was spot-on, edging right up against the edge of too much olive without quite going over. And although it wasn't quite as ridiculously huge as one from, say, Central Grocery, I still only ate half. We both upgraded from the standard potato chips to their sweet and spicy fries, french fries with a dash of red pepper, a dash of balsamic vinegar, and heaps of provolone. I'm not certain I'd always spring for the $2 upgrade, but they were quite good. I got fried oysters as an app -- they were pretty good and had a tasty rémoulade, though I tend to like my oysters a little more cooked when I order them fried (if I wanted raw oysters, I'd just get them on the half-shell). Aaron's spicy sweet potato soup was also good, though not what I was entirely in the mood for. And the server was a doll. She was hilarious, and very attentive. And I'm pretty sure she thought we were on a date.
So, yeah. Eat at Flatiron (veggie-folks, I'm told their portobella sandwich is one of the best ever, so if you've given up on the venerable mushroom sandwich you might give this one a try). Next time I'm trying their catfish po'boy; if it's good, I may never eat anywhere else again, since I could live on a good catfish po'boy.
And in a couple hours, it's off to the Michigan Renaissance Faire. Minstrelry is headed up, ostensibly for some guerilla performing, but really just for fun. It's been a while since any of us have just gone to a faire as playtrons, so it should be fun. We'll be back Sunday afternoon/evening; see you then.
An exception would be Wednesday night, when
lucki_dog and I grabbed dinner at Flatiron, down near the Convention Center. We'll talk about the restaurant in a second, but first the mode of transport. Lucki often rides around on a scooter, and being as my car doesn't have A/C, it seemed just as well to take the scooter down to the restaurant. I've decided that riding on the back of a scooter is a weird cross between riding a bike and riding a horse. A bike because, well, it is. And a horse, because I often felt almost like I was posting (def: post3, #10), anticipating bumps and curves. My thighs are still a little sore today -- it feels like I was having athletic sex or something. Anyway, I kinda liked the scooter. I totally don't have the money to get one, but if I did I think it would be a nice way to bridge the gap between my desire not to use gas and my desire to go places the bus isn't terribly efficient for (read: most places).Anyway. Flatiron (link is broken atm, but it's the right address) is a really tasty restaurant down near the Convention Center. Its website states that it's in the Arena District, which I think is unfair to itself (but then, I have a generally negative opinion of the Arena District, so). It's actually on the OTHER side of High Street, at (roughly) Naghten and 4th, in a little skinny building reminiscent of NYC's Flatiron Building, hence the name. Flatiron specializes in barbecue and vaguely New Orleanian dishes. It seems like a really odd combination, but it actually works quite well. Aaron had the N. Carolina style barbecue (i.e. a pulled pork sandwich with mustard barbecue sauce), and I had a muffuletta. I was especially interested/excited by the muff.; while a well-done muffuletta is one of the pinnacles of sandwich-making, there are a lot of substandard ones. This one didn't disappoint. The balance of olive salad to meat to cheese to bread was spot-on, edging right up against the edge of too much olive without quite going over. And although it wasn't quite as ridiculously huge as one from, say, Central Grocery, I still only ate half. We both upgraded from the standard potato chips to their sweet and spicy fries, french fries with a dash of red pepper, a dash of balsamic vinegar, and heaps of provolone. I'm not certain I'd always spring for the $2 upgrade, but they were quite good. I got fried oysters as an app -- they were pretty good and had a tasty rémoulade, though I tend to like my oysters a little more cooked when I order them fried (if I wanted raw oysters, I'd just get them on the half-shell). Aaron's spicy sweet potato soup was also good, though not what I was entirely in the mood for. And the server was a doll. She was hilarious, and very attentive. And I'm pretty sure she thought we were on a date.
So, yeah. Eat at Flatiron (veggie-folks, I'm told their portobella sandwich is one of the best ever, so if you've given up on the venerable mushroom sandwich you might give this one a try). Next time I'm trying their catfish po'boy; if it's good, I may never eat anywhere else again, since I could live on a good catfish po'boy.
And in a couple hours, it's off to the Michigan Renaissance Faire. Minstrelry is headed up, ostensibly for some guerilla performing, but really just for fun. It's been a while since any of us have just gone to a faire as playtrons, so it should be fun. We'll be back Sunday afternoon/evening; see you then.
