We Came for the Free Refills*
May 6th, 2018 | 08:08 AM
#1
Original Poster
Joined: Nov 2006
Posts: 3,069
Likes: 26
We Came for the Free Refills*
*The answer I wanted to proffer when asked by the Immigration Officer, “What brings you back?”
Our biennial visit to the homeland from our expat home in Austria; this time, seven days divided between Michigan (Ann Arbor, and a little bit of Detroit and Hamtramck) and Washington, D.C. DS was graduating from our alma mater, The University of Michigan; and DH and I wanted to catch up with friends in our former D.C. homestead. Before the cases were zipped and weighed, though, one final confirmation of the weather forecast: 32F for “Spring” Commencement at The Big House (Parkas? Check.) and 90F for three of the D.C. days. (Bermuda Shorts? Check.) On this trip we experienced three seasons of weather; warm and welcoming Midwestern hospitality; incredible meals in Michigan and D.C.; and so much “Wokeness.”
(Side note: In March of this year I traveled for 16 days and 8 flight segments across three countries in Asia. But for dropping my iPhone and cracking the face, “everything” went as planned on that holiday, and I joked with DH that I had probably used up all of my good travel karma. In that First World Problem sense I guess I had, for not “everything” went as planned on this holiday.)
Airlines
Delta/KLM was our carrier for the entirety. The VIE-AMS segment departs at the ungodly hour of 0655. VIE is a dull airport in the middle of even a busy travel day; in the early morning it is downright depressing. For pre-boarding entertainment (because the flight was completely full) we watched the ground crew stalk anyone and everyone in the waiting area with a duffel or carry-on “requesting” that it be checked. The Type A’s on the flight weren’t too happy with this change in their personal plan.
For this hour+ flight we were offered a simple, from a “UNESCO-heritage protected reclaimed polder (“A Special Place on Earth”) manually-stirred-using artisanal-techniques Beemster cheese, from free-ranging cows in a cooperative of small family farms (“Happy Cows, Better Milk”), on organic bread baked by Carl Siegert,half-sandwich. This was just the tip of the virtue-signaling iceberg we were sailing towards.
The AMS-DTW connection was surprisingly enjoyable. Either that, or because I had been treated like a princess on Emirates and Korean Air (A380’s) on my Asian hops, I had dialed down my expectations for this Airbus flight. For this flight I requested the “Hindu” meal; DS’s lovely girlfriend (LG) had reported the lentil curry to be top rate. She was correct. Spicy lentils atop fluffy rice; served with a side of non-watery spinach and a fresh fruit salad. I asked the cabin crew member what kind of wine they offered and he responded with, “Red and white.” I chose the white, a New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc in a little plastic bottle. Love the wine you’re with, right?
One Documentary (42 Grams) and a nap later, we were landing. In my excitement to exit the plane I left my reading glasses in the seat pocket, and only remembered once I had passed Immigration. Though only 45 minutes had elapsed since I had deplaned, KLM Baggage Services could not check the plane for my glasses because the post-flight security sweep was underway, and advised me to inquire again when I returned for the flight to D.C. Needless to write I never saw my glasses again.
DTW-DCA was brief and uneventful. We had stuffed ourselves with one more Zingermans sandwich before boarding and requested only a beverage for the quick up and down.
The IAD-AMS plane backed away from the gate 10 minutes early. For me, even a 5 minute early departure on a 6.5 hour flight is hopeful. Moments later we pulled back to the gate because the nose wheel had, “struck a foreign object” and needed to be inspected. There we sat for two hours while the nose wheel was replaced and the requisite paperwork completed. I appreciate why we were kept on the plane; what I did not appreciate was only being given one plastic cup of water; and certainly there had to have been some of those terrible rosemary crackers they could have tossed at us? But, I did watch “The Post” while waiting to depart. Good, but with Meryl Streep and Tom Hanks as the leads my expectations had been set a little higher.
Dinner was unmemorable, something chicken with something like pureed broccoli and potatoes? And a weird salad with cucumbers and artichokes? My tastebuds were still singing from the delicious meals I had enjoyed all week and so I did not pay my usual notice.
I can sleep on airplanes, even in Economy Comfort, and, apparently even with four excited young women behind me chatting all night long about their first trip to Europe. I feel I am skipping through Florence with them right now, their itinerary having filtered into my subconscious all night long.
Schipol is Schipol. DS, who has flown this route numerous times, suggested I score a table upstairs in the main concourse and settle in with an Udon bowl from Tiger Noodles for people watching during layovers. Like his LG, he was correct. The noodles were just the comfort food needed while I scrolled email and news (wearing a pair of “readers” I had snagged at a Walgreen’s on campus.
)
AMS-VIE, the home stretch. One hour+ from wheels up to touchdown, and a little butter cake and cup of water to nosh.
Lodging
Almost immediately upon entering Detroit's airport I felt the warm embrace of Midwestern hospitality from my childhood: strangers actually talking to one another in the Immigration queue, myself included; big smiles and polite questions at the rental car desk (“Are you in town for graduation? Go Blue!”) the Block M polo shirt DH wearing perhaps being a giveaway. An easy drive to our lodging, The Inn on Ferry Street in Detroit (all of the Ann Arbor hotels we would consider staying at had been booked 11 months prior when we began planning this trip, as one might expect.) The Inn is a collection of five mansions that had previously been owned by turn-of-the-century Detroit industrialists, and all have been exquisitely restored. Ferry Street lies along the urban campus of Wayne State University and though there wasn’t too much of a campus vibe, the area was pleasant and mostly walkable.
In D.C. we rented an executive apartment in Foggy Bottom with a balcony view of the Watergate Complex, steps from Metro and Whole Foods, and a lovely, lovely place to return at the end of a hot and smarmy D.C. day. My goal was to be entirely reliant on public transportation so that I could fairly compare the experience to Vienna’s system. (Spoiler: I failed twice and used Uber.)
To follow: food notes and lots of impressions.
Our biennial visit to the homeland from our expat home in Austria; this time, seven days divided between Michigan (Ann Arbor, and a little bit of Detroit and Hamtramck) and Washington, D.C. DS was graduating from our alma mater, The University of Michigan; and DH and I wanted to catch up with friends in our former D.C. homestead. Before the cases were zipped and weighed, though, one final confirmation of the weather forecast: 32F for “Spring” Commencement at The Big House (Parkas? Check.) and 90F for three of the D.C. days. (Bermuda Shorts? Check.) On this trip we experienced three seasons of weather; warm and welcoming Midwestern hospitality; incredible meals in Michigan and D.C.; and so much “Wokeness.”
(Side note: In March of this year I traveled for 16 days and 8 flight segments across three countries in Asia. But for dropping my iPhone and cracking the face, “everything” went as planned on that holiday, and I joked with DH that I had probably used up all of my good travel karma. In that First World Problem sense I guess I had, for not “everything” went as planned on this holiday.)
Airlines
Delta/KLM was our carrier for the entirety. The VIE-AMS segment departs at the ungodly hour of 0655. VIE is a dull airport in the middle of even a busy travel day; in the early morning it is downright depressing. For pre-boarding entertainment (because the flight was completely full) we watched the ground crew stalk anyone and everyone in the waiting area with a duffel or carry-on “requesting” that it be checked. The Type A’s on the flight weren’t too happy with this change in their personal plan.
For this hour+ flight we were offered a simple, from a “UNESCO-heritage protected reclaimed polder (“A Special Place on Earth”) manually-stirred-using artisanal-techniques Beemster cheese, from free-ranging cows in a cooperative of small family farms (“Happy Cows, Better Milk”), on organic bread baked by Carl Siegert,half-sandwich. This was just the tip of the virtue-signaling iceberg we were sailing towards.
The AMS-DTW connection was surprisingly enjoyable. Either that, or because I had been treated like a princess on Emirates and Korean Air (A380’s) on my Asian hops, I had dialed down my expectations for this Airbus flight. For this flight I requested the “Hindu” meal; DS’s lovely girlfriend (LG) had reported the lentil curry to be top rate. She was correct. Spicy lentils atop fluffy rice; served with a side of non-watery spinach and a fresh fruit salad. I asked the cabin crew member what kind of wine they offered and he responded with, “Red and white.” I chose the white, a New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc in a little plastic bottle. Love the wine you’re with, right?
One Documentary (42 Grams) and a nap later, we were landing. In my excitement to exit the plane I left my reading glasses in the seat pocket, and only remembered once I had passed Immigration. Though only 45 minutes had elapsed since I had deplaned, KLM Baggage Services could not check the plane for my glasses because the post-flight security sweep was underway, and advised me to inquire again when I returned for the flight to D.C. Needless to write I never saw my glasses again.
DTW-DCA was brief and uneventful. We had stuffed ourselves with one more Zingermans sandwich before boarding and requested only a beverage for the quick up and down.
The IAD-AMS plane backed away from the gate 10 minutes early. For me, even a 5 minute early departure on a 6.5 hour flight is hopeful. Moments later we pulled back to the gate because the nose wheel had, “struck a foreign object” and needed to be inspected. There we sat for two hours while the nose wheel was replaced and the requisite paperwork completed. I appreciate why we were kept on the plane; what I did not appreciate was only being given one plastic cup of water; and certainly there had to have been some of those terrible rosemary crackers they could have tossed at us? But, I did watch “The Post” while waiting to depart. Good, but with Meryl Streep and Tom Hanks as the leads my expectations had been set a little higher.
Dinner was unmemorable, something chicken with something like pureed broccoli and potatoes? And a weird salad with cucumbers and artichokes? My tastebuds were still singing from the delicious meals I had enjoyed all week and so I did not pay my usual notice.
I can sleep on airplanes, even in Economy Comfort, and, apparently even with four excited young women behind me chatting all night long about their first trip to Europe. I feel I am skipping through Florence with them right now, their itinerary having filtered into my subconscious all night long.
Schipol is Schipol. DS, who has flown this route numerous times, suggested I score a table upstairs in the main concourse and settle in with an Udon bowl from Tiger Noodles for people watching during layovers. Like his LG, he was correct. The noodles were just the comfort food needed while I scrolled email and news (wearing a pair of “readers” I had snagged at a Walgreen’s on campus.
)AMS-VIE, the home stretch. One hour+ from wheels up to touchdown, and a little butter cake and cup of water to nosh.
Lodging
Almost immediately upon entering Detroit's airport I felt the warm embrace of Midwestern hospitality from my childhood: strangers actually talking to one another in the Immigration queue, myself included; big smiles and polite questions at the rental car desk (“Are you in town for graduation? Go Blue!”) the Block M polo shirt DH wearing perhaps being a giveaway. An easy drive to our lodging, The Inn on Ferry Street in Detroit (all of the Ann Arbor hotels we would consider staying at had been booked 11 months prior when we began planning this trip, as one might expect.) The Inn is a collection of five mansions that had previously been owned by turn-of-the-century Detroit industrialists, and all have been exquisitely restored. Ferry Street lies along the urban campus of Wayne State University and though there wasn’t too much of a campus vibe, the area was pleasant and mostly walkable.
In D.C. we rented an executive apartment in Foggy Bottom with a balcony view of the Watergate Complex, steps from Metro and Whole Foods, and a lovely, lovely place to return at the end of a hot and smarmy D.C. day. My goal was to be entirely reliant on public transportation so that I could fairly compare the experience to Vienna’s system. (Spoiler: I failed twice and used Uber.)
To follow: food notes and lots of impressions.
Last edited by fourfortravel; May 6th, 2018 at 08:12 AM.
May 7th, 2018 | 08:46 AM
#4
Original Poster
Joined: Nov 2006
Posts: 3,069
Likes: 26
Endless Appetency: The Eating and the Drinking
Dining in Michigan
We arrived at The Inn on Ferry Street with not enough time for a visit to the Detroit Institute of Arts, a mere block away, as the museum closed at 1600 on weekdays. In fact, all of the area museums of interest closed at 1600. The problem, though, was that we had arrived with too much time to do anything else. It was too late in the day to take a refreshing nap; and it was too early to call it a night. Plus, the still chilly air of early spring? late, late winter? wafting in through the open windows was not compelling us to leave the Inn.
So, in our spacious and lusciously decorated room I set about hanging our dress clothes for the graduation dinner to de-wrinkle, only to realize that I had not packed DH’s jacket! I always pack or otherwise select DH’s dress clothes to coordinate with mine, and at that moment remembered having been distracted by an Eastern Green Woodpecker hitting our terrace door. The big bird turned out to be just fine, but I had lost focus with my concern for my feathered friend’s well-being. While I fretted over the clothing, DH, meanwhile, busied himself with setting up our mobile Internet.
Soon we were within the respectable zone of an early dinner, but the collective desire to make ourselves restaurant-presentable had gone south of “Zero” some time ago. Thank goodness The Inn had a special relationship with a local tavern, and within the hour two amazing Reuben sandwiches and two Stroh’s Bohemian Style Pilsners(a Detroit brew) arrived at the front desk. Old-school sandwiches, with the corned beef piled in the center of crispy grilled Rye slices, with just enough Thousand Island to drip, but not dribble. A splendid start to the upcoming epicurean adventures. Lights were out early in anticipation of reminiscing on Michigan’s campus the following day…
…Ah, Ann Arbor. We and numerous other parents all wandered about the campus with the same expressions on this day: “Oh, I remember that!” and “Didn’t that used to be…?” A dive by the most generous of standards back in our campus days, The Brown Jug was the first snack stop for a basket of Jalapeno Poppers and a couple of beers (Don’t judge. These Jalapeno bites of goodness are difficult to find in Vienna.) The menu had changed just a little bit in the intervening decades: there were now more than 74 varieties of “Shooters,” offered, including the surprising-for-such-a-Woke-campus, “Piece of Ass Shooter,” a mix of Southern Comfort, Amaretto, and Sour; and the “Sex in the Mouth Shooter,” of Malibu, Pineapple, 151, and Whipped Cream. #MeTooMixedMessages
Because we were having too much fun reminiscing we skipped lunch (two granola bars from the Walgreens does not a meal make) and had to scurry to Zingerman’s, now an icon of culinary virtue-signalling (For cripe’s sake, the deli sells canisters of “Fennel Pollen” for $24,99! yet welcomes refugees to its table) to collect the catered order for graduation lunch in DS’s apartment the following day. Back in our day, Zingerman’s was a young start-up, touting organic sandwiches and a small selection of imported delicacies from a standalone brick and mortar building in an earthy-crunchy neighborhood of Ann Arbor near the campus. Now it is a mini-Empire to which DS has been paying homage the past four years, so why not support local businesses and cater a Zingerman’s luncheon for this grand finale?
Back in Detroit for dinner, DH and I hopped on the new Q-Line car The Inn, a streetcar connecting the Detroit mid-town with the downtown, for dinner in Greektown. Restaurant Pegasus was our choice, a lively and crowded venue that made for a fun evening. Several lamb dishes were on the featured menu, and so we ordered two delicious preparations along with a carafe of house wine, settling in without any hurrying-along by the waitstaff. #SoCivilized. A Robotics World Competition was also happening in Detroit on this weekend, with some 35.000 participants all needing a place for dinner, and many of whom filled the tables and the restaurant with their laughter. The neighborhood was alive, and we remarked on how very different it was from the Detroit of our undergrad days in the late 80's.
Of course the Zingerman’s lunch feast was spectacular the following day. I had coordinated with the moms of DS’s three apartment-mates, and just as quickly as we could bring our frozen selves back from The Big House (29F at the start of Commencement!), the bounty was spread for all to enjoy. Glasses of Prosecco were poured. We feasted on grilled chicken and Applewood-smoked bacon piled on a Rustic Tuscan loaf; Turkey and Emmentaler on Rye; Potato Salad like it should be prepared (heavy on the flavor, light on the dressing); and oh, those Dill Pickles! And we toasted our graduates, all of whom are heading either to jobs with real salaries or to grad school. #STEMMajors
The Graduation Dinner. I love food, though I would not consider myself a foodie, if that is still even a thing. This said, on this trip there were several meals I had been anticipating. In Michigan, Zingerman’s; and graduation dinner at The Rattlesnake Club.
The Rattlesnake Club is a gracious upscale restaurant in downtown Detroit. In fine weather no doubt the terrace seating along the river enhances the dining experience; it being a balmy 40F on this day, though, our party of eight was seated inside at a cozy table. Within moments of being seated, alas, my I-have-been-living-in-Europe-perhaps-too-long hackles were raised: the wait staff hovered; they rushed us through the Champagne toast (to the graduates) to take our orders; and otherwise punctuated our laughter and conversation with, “Is everything okay?” Between dinner and dessert, a wait staffer even fussed at us when we were standing about taking photos.
But about the food. Our table shared a Michigan cheese plate (quite good!); a fresh asparagus plate (quite exceptional!); and a baby kale salad (ordinary in the face of the asparagus and the cheese plate) to begin. DH and I both ordered the Great Lakes Perch; though it was not the same taste that I recall, or think I recall, from summer weekends at the cottage, when my father and grandfather would return from an early morning fishing trip with “breakfast” (the small Perch my grandmother would fry), I was pleased. The wine that was selected, a northern Italian chosen over a Wachau Austrian, was quaffable but not inspiring. I think overall we would give the meal a solid B+, the wait staff notwithstanding.
Dining in D.C.
With much gratitude to the Fodors folks who advised me on Old Ebbitt Grill, Zatinya, Oyamel, and Rasika, I offer my impressions.
Full disclosure. We lived in the D.C. area before moving to Austria six years ago. The familial obligations of sports, music lessons, and Scouts; and the daily routine of a two-income family with two busy children* left us with precious free time to indulge in D.C.’s dining scene, so now was our time. With the exception of Old Ebbitt Grill, we had not ever dined at any of the other restaurants.
*DD remained in Austria with DDog for this holiday. Her full IB academic load kept her busy at home in Vienna (DDog was on hand to report any and all house parties, naturally); and, she was taking one final practice exam before the formal SAT.
DS returned with us to D.C. from Ann Arbor. He had officially graduated in December and had been interning at a D.C. think tank for the last semester; and flew to Ann Arbor to share commencement with his friends (and with us!). In a surprise motion his think tank offered him a permanent, salaried position before he departed, so there was indeed much to celebrate on this trip! But to the food…
Old Ebbitt Grill came through spectacularly! The buzz in the packed tavern on our crowded Sunday evening (2030 reservation) was animated, but not disruptive or loud, at least not to the three of us. The oysters (Maine, Rhode Island, and Wellfleet) took us back to our summer holidays on Cape Cod with their briny, slurpy goodness. DH’s Crab Cake was sublime (I snuck a bite); my Catfish Po’Boy equally so. DS did not share his Crab Cake, ungrateful son that he is. The wine, an Italian white, a perfectly suggested pairing. The wait staff, discreet. Our evening was oh-so civilized.
Zatinya. I will write that I don’t know what happened, but Zatinya was the disappointment meal of the trip. Perhaps I am spoilt for choice with Mediterranean food in Vienna? Maybe Zatinya’s Brunch menu was an excuse for less care with the preparation? Or was it just a one-off bad day? Regardless, great conversation with a good friend aside, Zatinya otherwise gets a big thumbs down. My friend and I each ordered from the Brunch menu, the plan being to share the different plates. The Baba Ganoush was borderline unflavorful (we both thought it was Hummus at first!); the olives, a little unripe and overly seasoned. In contrast, the Kebab was way, waytoo seasoned; and the pita, a little too grilled. In between there was an unremarkable chicken dish and a moderately tasty pilaf with crispy onions. The iced tea was of a horrid flat peach flavor that arrived at the table with no warning. Though I was not in favor of making reservations (because we were flying in that morning and I preferred flexibility), I am glad I did in the end, for the restaurant was fully, fully booked on this April Sunday early afternoon.
The Sculpture Garden Caf. An unexpected delight! DH and I had walked across the mall from the Sackler/Freer galleries with fingers crossed and the fires of “hanger” flickering. Indeed, while I claimed a shaded table, he queued for our Asian Chicken and Southwest Chicken Salads, plus an entire pitcher of Sangria. Such decadence on a Monday afternoon! All things D.C. considered, the salads were remarkably well-priced, substantial but not overwhelming in portion and exceptionally flavorful. We rested our toes and savored our greens while the fountain spouted and several school groups wandered past, before tackling a couple more exhibits.
Nationals Park Hot Dogs. $47 for five hot dogs and one box of Nachos was extreme. Then again, we had great first baseline seats; our friends were with us; and the Nats won!
Oyamel Lunch 1. Wow. Wow. Wow. Vienna is not noted for Mexican fare, so perhaps that partially accounts for my gushing. On a whim another friend and I were passing by en route to the National Portrait Gallery when the restaurant door opened and we caught a sniff…the stars must have been aligned, for at 1230ish on a Tuesday we were escorted without reservations to one of the high tables near the bar. Before we had even settled into our seats, a basket of warm chips and fresh, cold salsa appeared before us. The Almverzo Rapidowas the lunch ticket: Morelia “Gaspacho,” a salad of jicama, cucumbers and spicy goodness! Meatballs in Chipotle Sauce! Swordfish Ceviche Verde! Pulled Pork Tacos! In between catching up on our lives we stuffed our faces with unadulterated bliss.
Oyamel Lunch 2. DH’s meetings with the home office ended early, so we were able to enjoy a partial day of sightseeing and lunch. Still swooning over my love affair with Oyamel, I proposed that we meet here for lunch, fingers crossed that we could get a table. We did! This time we ordered the housemade Guacamole, chunky and spiced to our liking, to begin. For lunch, the pork belly tacos and the chicken enchiladas. Oh, Oyamel, can you bring your goodness across the pond?
Rasika. Saving the best for last. Hedging my bet that a reservation would not be needed, yet another friend and her DH joined me for an early (1800) dinner at the Rasika Penn Quarter. My own DH, sigh, was suffering through some sad supper whilst talking with colleagues and missed the epicurean adventure. My friend and I are Indian food fangirls, and Rasika delivered. Though we only enjoyed this one meal, I could be convinced that every positive spoken word about this restaurant is to be believed. To begin, the signature Palak Chaat; and only because we are friends could we give one another the friendly evil-eye for the last morsel. For dinner the three of us shared the Murgh Mussalam, Vegetable Biryani, and the Tandoori Lamb Chops. Truly memorable, in presentation and in taste. My two slight grouses? Our wait staff kept referring to my glass of Austrian wine as a, “Grner.” “How is your Grner?" and “Would you like another Grner?” And, far worse, we once again felt rushed; toward the end of our meal a group of people actually began hovering around our table, presumably waiting for us to snarf and go?
Final notes on museums, cultural experience and so forth, to conclude this report.
(marvelousmouse, if you’re reading, The Burning Man exhibit was totally worth seeing.)
Dining in Michigan
We arrived at The Inn on Ferry Street with not enough time for a visit to the Detroit Institute of Arts, a mere block away, as the museum closed at 1600 on weekdays. In fact, all of the area museums of interest closed at 1600. The problem, though, was that we had arrived with too much time to do anything else. It was too late in the day to take a refreshing nap; and it was too early to call it a night. Plus, the still chilly air of early spring? late, late winter? wafting in through the open windows was not compelling us to leave the Inn.
So, in our spacious and lusciously decorated room I set about hanging our dress clothes for the graduation dinner to de-wrinkle, only to realize that I had not packed DH’s jacket! I always pack or otherwise select DH’s dress clothes to coordinate with mine, and at that moment remembered having been distracted by an Eastern Green Woodpecker hitting our terrace door. The big bird turned out to be just fine, but I had lost focus with my concern for my feathered friend’s well-being. While I fretted over the clothing, DH, meanwhile, busied himself with setting up our mobile Internet.
Soon we were within the respectable zone of an early dinner, but the collective desire to make ourselves restaurant-presentable had gone south of “Zero” some time ago. Thank goodness The Inn had a special relationship with a local tavern, and within the hour two amazing Reuben sandwiches and two Stroh’s Bohemian Style Pilsners(a Detroit brew) arrived at the front desk. Old-school sandwiches, with the corned beef piled in the center of crispy grilled Rye slices, with just enough Thousand Island to drip, but not dribble. A splendid start to the upcoming epicurean adventures. Lights were out early in anticipation of reminiscing on Michigan’s campus the following day…
…Ah, Ann Arbor. We and numerous other parents all wandered about the campus with the same expressions on this day: “Oh, I remember that!” and “Didn’t that used to be…?” A dive by the most generous of standards back in our campus days, The Brown Jug was the first snack stop for a basket of Jalapeno Poppers and a couple of beers (Don’t judge. These Jalapeno bites of goodness are difficult to find in Vienna.) The menu had changed just a little bit in the intervening decades: there were now more than 74 varieties of “Shooters,” offered, including the surprising-for-such-a-Woke-campus, “Piece of Ass Shooter,” a mix of Southern Comfort, Amaretto, and Sour; and the “Sex in the Mouth Shooter,” of Malibu, Pineapple, 151, and Whipped Cream. #MeTooMixedMessages
Because we were having too much fun reminiscing we skipped lunch (two granola bars from the Walgreens does not a meal make) and had to scurry to Zingerman’s, now an icon of culinary virtue-signalling (For cripe’s sake, the deli sells canisters of “Fennel Pollen” for $24,99! yet welcomes refugees to its table) to collect the catered order for graduation lunch in DS’s apartment the following day. Back in our day, Zingerman’s was a young start-up, touting organic sandwiches and a small selection of imported delicacies from a standalone brick and mortar building in an earthy-crunchy neighborhood of Ann Arbor near the campus. Now it is a mini-Empire to which DS has been paying homage the past four years, so why not support local businesses and cater a Zingerman’s luncheon for this grand finale?
Back in Detroit for dinner, DH and I hopped on the new Q-Line car The Inn, a streetcar connecting the Detroit mid-town with the downtown, for dinner in Greektown. Restaurant Pegasus was our choice, a lively and crowded venue that made for a fun evening. Several lamb dishes were on the featured menu, and so we ordered two delicious preparations along with a carafe of house wine, settling in without any hurrying-along by the waitstaff. #SoCivilized. A Robotics World Competition was also happening in Detroit on this weekend, with some 35.000 participants all needing a place for dinner, and many of whom filled the tables and the restaurant with their laughter. The neighborhood was alive, and we remarked on how very different it was from the Detroit of our undergrad days in the late 80's.
Of course the Zingerman’s lunch feast was spectacular the following day. I had coordinated with the moms of DS’s three apartment-mates, and just as quickly as we could bring our frozen selves back from The Big House (29F at the start of Commencement!), the bounty was spread for all to enjoy. Glasses of Prosecco were poured. We feasted on grilled chicken and Applewood-smoked bacon piled on a Rustic Tuscan loaf; Turkey and Emmentaler on Rye; Potato Salad like it should be prepared (heavy on the flavor, light on the dressing); and oh, those Dill Pickles! And we toasted our graduates, all of whom are heading either to jobs with real salaries or to grad school. #STEMMajors
The Graduation Dinner. I love food, though I would not consider myself a foodie, if that is still even a thing. This said, on this trip there were several meals I had been anticipating. In Michigan, Zingerman’s; and graduation dinner at The Rattlesnake Club.
The Rattlesnake Club is a gracious upscale restaurant in downtown Detroit. In fine weather no doubt the terrace seating along the river enhances the dining experience; it being a balmy 40F on this day, though, our party of eight was seated inside at a cozy table. Within moments of being seated, alas, my I-have-been-living-in-Europe-perhaps-too-long hackles were raised: the wait staff hovered; they rushed us through the Champagne toast (to the graduates) to take our orders; and otherwise punctuated our laughter and conversation with, “Is everything okay?” Between dinner and dessert, a wait staffer even fussed at us when we were standing about taking photos.
But about the food. Our table shared a Michigan cheese plate (quite good!); a fresh asparagus plate (quite exceptional!); and a baby kale salad (ordinary in the face of the asparagus and the cheese plate) to begin. DH and I both ordered the Great Lakes Perch; though it was not the same taste that I recall, or think I recall, from summer weekends at the cottage, when my father and grandfather would return from an early morning fishing trip with “breakfast” (the small Perch my grandmother would fry), I was pleased. The wine that was selected, a northern Italian chosen over a Wachau Austrian, was quaffable but not inspiring. I think overall we would give the meal a solid B+, the wait staff notwithstanding.
Dining in D.C.
With much gratitude to the Fodors folks who advised me on Old Ebbitt Grill, Zatinya, Oyamel, and Rasika, I offer my impressions.
Full disclosure. We lived in the D.C. area before moving to Austria six years ago. The familial obligations of sports, music lessons, and Scouts; and the daily routine of a two-income family with two busy children* left us with precious free time to indulge in D.C.’s dining scene, so now was our time. With the exception of Old Ebbitt Grill, we had not ever dined at any of the other restaurants.
*DD remained in Austria with DDog for this holiday. Her full IB academic load kept her busy at home in Vienna (DDog was on hand to report any and all house parties, naturally); and, she was taking one final practice exam before the formal SAT.
DS returned with us to D.C. from Ann Arbor. He had officially graduated in December and had been interning at a D.C. think tank for the last semester; and flew to Ann Arbor to share commencement with his friends (and with us!). In a surprise motion his think tank offered him a permanent, salaried position before he departed, so there was indeed much to celebrate on this trip! But to the food…
Old Ebbitt Grill came through spectacularly! The buzz in the packed tavern on our crowded Sunday evening (2030 reservation) was animated, but not disruptive or loud, at least not to the three of us. The oysters (Maine, Rhode Island, and Wellfleet) took us back to our summer holidays on Cape Cod with their briny, slurpy goodness. DH’s Crab Cake was sublime (I snuck a bite); my Catfish Po’Boy equally so. DS did not share his Crab Cake, ungrateful son that he is. The wine, an Italian white, a perfectly suggested pairing. The wait staff, discreet. Our evening was oh-so civilized.
Zatinya. I will write that I don’t know what happened, but Zatinya was the disappointment meal of the trip. Perhaps I am spoilt for choice with Mediterranean food in Vienna? Maybe Zatinya’s Brunch menu was an excuse for less care with the preparation? Or was it just a one-off bad day? Regardless, great conversation with a good friend aside, Zatinya otherwise gets a big thumbs down. My friend and I each ordered from the Brunch menu, the plan being to share the different plates. The Baba Ganoush was borderline unflavorful (we both thought it was Hummus at first!); the olives, a little unripe and overly seasoned. In contrast, the Kebab was way, waytoo seasoned; and the pita, a little too grilled. In between there was an unremarkable chicken dish and a moderately tasty pilaf with crispy onions. The iced tea was of a horrid flat peach flavor that arrived at the table with no warning. Though I was not in favor of making reservations (because we were flying in that morning and I preferred flexibility), I am glad I did in the end, for the restaurant was fully, fully booked on this April Sunday early afternoon.
The Sculpture Garden Caf. An unexpected delight! DH and I had walked across the mall from the Sackler/Freer galleries with fingers crossed and the fires of “hanger” flickering. Indeed, while I claimed a shaded table, he queued for our Asian Chicken and Southwest Chicken Salads, plus an entire pitcher of Sangria. Such decadence on a Monday afternoon! All things D.C. considered, the salads were remarkably well-priced, substantial but not overwhelming in portion and exceptionally flavorful. We rested our toes and savored our greens while the fountain spouted and several school groups wandered past, before tackling a couple more exhibits.
Nationals Park Hot Dogs. $47 for five hot dogs and one box of Nachos was extreme. Then again, we had great first baseline seats; our friends were with us; and the Nats won!
Oyamel Lunch 1. Wow. Wow. Wow. Vienna is not noted for Mexican fare, so perhaps that partially accounts for my gushing. On a whim another friend and I were passing by en route to the National Portrait Gallery when the restaurant door opened and we caught a sniff…the stars must have been aligned, for at 1230ish on a Tuesday we were escorted without reservations to one of the high tables near the bar. Before we had even settled into our seats, a basket of warm chips and fresh, cold salsa appeared before us. The Almverzo Rapidowas the lunch ticket: Morelia “Gaspacho,” a salad of jicama, cucumbers and spicy goodness! Meatballs in Chipotle Sauce! Swordfish Ceviche Verde! Pulled Pork Tacos! In between catching up on our lives we stuffed our faces with unadulterated bliss.
Oyamel Lunch 2. DH’s meetings with the home office ended early, so we were able to enjoy a partial day of sightseeing and lunch. Still swooning over my love affair with Oyamel, I proposed that we meet here for lunch, fingers crossed that we could get a table. We did! This time we ordered the housemade Guacamole, chunky and spiced to our liking, to begin. For lunch, the pork belly tacos and the chicken enchiladas. Oh, Oyamel, can you bring your goodness across the pond?
Rasika. Saving the best for last. Hedging my bet that a reservation would not be needed, yet another friend and her DH joined me for an early (1800) dinner at the Rasika Penn Quarter. My own DH, sigh, was suffering through some sad supper whilst talking with colleagues and missed the epicurean adventure. My friend and I are Indian food fangirls, and Rasika delivered. Though we only enjoyed this one meal, I could be convinced that every positive spoken word about this restaurant is to be believed. To begin, the signature Palak Chaat; and only because we are friends could we give one another the friendly evil-eye for the last morsel. For dinner the three of us shared the Murgh Mussalam, Vegetable Biryani, and the Tandoori Lamb Chops. Truly memorable, in presentation and in taste. My two slight grouses? Our wait staff kept referring to my glass of Austrian wine as a, “Grner.” “How is your Grner?" and “Would you like another Grner?” And, far worse, we once again felt rushed; toward the end of our meal a group of people actually began hovering around our table, presumably waiting for us to snarf and go?
Final notes on museums, cultural experience and so forth, to conclude this report.
(marvelousmouse, if you’re reading, The Burning Man exhibit was totally worth seeing.)
Last edited by fourfortravel; May 7th, 2018 at 08:52 AM.
May 8th, 2018 | 03:38 AM
#5
Original Poster
Joined: Nov 2006
Posts: 3,069
Likes: 26
Expat Impressions
Hamtramck
After breakfast we pointed the rental car first toward Hamtramck, the city where Polish immigrants (my grandparents) settled; where my parents were born; and where I spent a good many Sundays and summer days. Of course the neighborhood has changed; and I amazed myself with how many places I could recall from memory. Now the community is a vibrant mix of many cultures, with, yes, some rough edges, and I hope it continues to thrive and serve this new generation of immigrants.
Ann Arbor
The fond reminiscing aside, we found the liberal bastion of our undergraduate days to have become almost an insufferable progressive, virtue-signaling echo chamber. Every third storefront had a sign professing, “We Love our (fill-in-the-blank-with-your-favorite-ethnic-group) Neighbors” or “We pledge to support an inclusive society” (alongside signs for a new “Luxury Student Housing” high-rise—would these apartments be open to the luxury-handicapped, I wondered?). All those common-sense statements just read like smug liberalism intended to make this campus full of students of wealthy parents, most of whom live in a reality where social strife doesn’t exist, feel like they're doing something. Or in contemporary vernacular, woke.
DC Museums
National Museum of Women in the Arts. The space is beautiful; the two current exhibits, though, were a mixed bag for me. The exhibit “Women House” was supposed to “challenge conventional ideas about gender and domestic space.” Mostly it was art by women who had a serious grudge against anything they decided was “domestic.” The second exhibit, “Hung Liu in Print,” was a stunning series of pieces by an artist who lived through Mao Zedong’s Cultural Revolution before immigrating to California in the 1980’s. Her works utilized painting, collage-making, and weaving, and this exhibit alone was worth my time spent. Sadly, the offerings in the museum gift store were, “woke” and professing “Feminism” and "Girl Power" with just partisan tchotchke. For shame, NMWA.
National Museum of American History.A first stop at my fangirl crush exhibits (Julia Child's kitchen and Melania Trump's Inauguration Dress in the First Ladies Gallery). A moving exhibit on the Poor People's Campaignbegun in 1968, including a photo taken moments after Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s assassination; followed by the equally moving exhibit, Righting a Wrong: Japanese Americans and WWII. And always, a visit to see the original Star Spangled Banner.
The Freer/Sackler Galleries have always been favorites: peace and quiet to ooh and aah over Iranian luxury art and the entire Peacock Room. Stunning.
The Renwick Gallery. A Smithsonian outpost that is probably only busy when exhibits like No Spectators: The Art of Burning Manare on display. The entire museum has been turned over for room-size displays and displays various objects from the “playa,” the whole of which is pretty “out there” for stuffy D.C. For DH and me, the exhibit was a rather thorough exposure to this Bohemian phenomenon.
Speaking of Bohemia, I recall the unveiling of former President Obama’s official portrait at the National Portrait Gallery being met with mixed reaction. All I will write is that it is better than the filmy, watercolor of JFK; and definitely easier on the eyes relative to the amoebas-in-a-kaleidoscope print that is former President Clinton. I did also drop in on the “Celebrities in America” Gallery, where I was duly impressed more with the portrait of the Special Olympics founder Eunice Kennedy Shriver than I was with the pop art of “Michele LaVaughn Robinson Obama.”
National Postal Museum. I wondered why it seemed unusually crowded when I was waiting outside to meet a friend. It turned out that we were crashing the unveiling ceremony for the new “Forever” Airmail Stamp! Good for us. The exhibit of interest was "The Beautification of America" through a stamp series that began under First Lady "Lady Bird" Johnson with pretty flowers and state bird stamps. This museum is an overlooked gem, and I thank James Smithson for his $508,318 bequest in 1826 to help create the Smithsonian.
Washington, D.C.’s Public Transportation. When we lived in the D.C. area we rarely used Metro. Though my office was at a Metro station just two stops from our home, it was faster and less expensive for me to drive and park in our building than to ride the train; and over the last four months or so, DS has routinely complained about the inefficiency of the system, so we adjusted our expectations accordingly. We arrived on a Sunday into DCA and there were train delays because of long overdue track repairs, but all told, Metro seems improved. The new Silver Line and Express Bus to the airport was appreciated for our departure, but I wish the transit price was just one fare for simplicity; being able to recycle the Metro cards would be environmentally friendly; and a Metro App would help bring the system into the 21st century.
That’s all there is to write. Home leaves are bittersweet; rushing, on this one in particular, from friend to friend to friend and not really feeling like you’re “home” because you’re staying in a rental apartment, generally as a result of other people living in your“home.” There was some reverse culture shock, too. Once upon a time we were in the “Mastery” phase of a culture, being Americans in America; now we are neither Masters in our adopted culture, nor Masters in our native culture. Whirlwind that it was, though, we’re already thinking ahead to Home Leave 2020.
Thank you for reading.
Hamtramck
After breakfast we pointed the rental car first toward Hamtramck, the city where Polish immigrants (my grandparents) settled; where my parents were born; and where I spent a good many Sundays and summer days. Of course the neighborhood has changed; and I amazed myself with how many places I could recall from memory. Now the community is a vibrant mix of many cultures, with, yes, some rough edges, and I hope it continues to thrive and serve this new generation of immigrants.
Ann Arbor
The fond reminiscing aside, we found the liberal bastion of our undergraduate days to have become almost an insufferable progressive, virtue-signaling echo chamber. Every third storefront had a sign professing, “We Love our (fill-in-the-blank-with-your-favorite-ethnic-group) Neighbors” or “We pledge to support an inclusive society” (alongside signs for a new “Luxury Student Housing” high-rise—would these apartments be open to the luxury-handicapped, I wondered?). All those common-sense statements just read like smug liberalism intended to make this campus full of students of wealthy parents, most of whom live in a reality where social strife doesn’t exist, feel like they're doing something. Or in contemporary vernacular, woke.
DC Museums
National Museum of Women in the Arts. The space is beautiful; the two current exhibits, though, were a mixed bag for me. The exhibit “Women House” was supposed to “challenge conventional ideas about gender and domestic space.” Mostly it was art by women who had a serious grudge against anything they decided was “domestic.” The second exhibit, “Hung Liu in Print,” was a stunning series of pieces by an artist who lived through Mao Zedong’s Cultural Revolution before immigrating to California in the 1980’s. Her works utilized painting, collage-making, and weaving, and this exhibit alone was worth my time spent. Sadly, the offerings in the museum gift store were, “woke” and professing “Feminism” and "Girl Power" with just partisan tchotchke. For shame, NMWA.
National Museum of American History.A first stop at my fangirl crush exhibits (Julia Child's kitchen and Melania Trump's Inauguration Dress in the First Ladies Gallery). A moving exhibit on the Poor People's Campaignbegun in 1968, including a photo taken moments after Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s assassination; followed by the equally moving exhibit, Righting a Wrong: Japanese Americans and WWII. And always, a visit to see the original Star Spangled Banner.
The Freer/Sackler Galleries have always been favorites: peace and quiet to ooh and aah over Iranian luxury art and the entire Peacock Room. Stunning.
The Renwick Gallery. A Smithsonian outpost that is probably only busy when exhibits like No Spectators: The Art of Burning Manare on display. The entire museum has been turned over for room-size displays and displays various objects from the “playa,” the whole of which is pretty “out there” for stuffy D.C. For DH and me, the exhibit was a rather thorough exposure to this Bohemian phenomenon.
Speaking of Bohemia, I recall the unveiling of former President Obama’s official portrait at the National Portrait Gallery being met with mixed reaction. All I will write is that it is better than the filmy, watercolor of JFK; and definitely easier on the eyes relative to the amoebas-in-a-kaleidoscope print that is former President Clinton. I did also drop in on the “Celebrities in America” Gallery, where I was duly impressed more with the portrait of the Special Olympics founder Eunice Kennedy Shriver than I was with the pop art of “Michele LaVaughn Robinson Obama.”
National Postal Museum. I wondered why it seemed unusually crowded when I was waiting outside to meet a friend. It turned out that we were crashing the unveiling ceremony for the new “Forever” Airmail Stamp! Good for us. The exhibit of interest was "The Beautification of America" through a stamp series that began under First Lady "Lady Bird" Johnson with pretty flowers and state bird stamps. This museum is an overlooked gem, and I thank James Smithson for his $508,318 bequest in 1826 to help create the Smithsonian.
Washington, D.C.’s Public Transportation. When we lived in the D.C. area we rarely used Metro. Though my office was at a Metro station just two stops from our home, it was faster and less expensive for me to drive and park in our building than to ride the train; and over the last four months or so, DS has routinely complained about the inefficiency of the system, so we adjusted our expectations accordingly. We arrived on a Sunday into DCA and there were train delays because of long overdue track repairs, but all told, Metro seems improved. The new Silver Line and Express Bus to the airport was appreciated for our departure, but I wish the transit price was just one fare for simplicity; being able to recycle the Metro cards would be environmentally friendly; and a Metro App would help bring the system into the 21st century.
That’s all there is to write. Home leaves are bittersweet; rushing, on this one in particular, from friend to friend to friend and not really feeling like you’re “home” because you’re staying in a rental apartment, generally as a result of other people living in your“home.” There was some reverse culture shock, too. Once upon a time we were in the “Mastery” phase of a culture, being Americans in America; now we are neither Masters in our adopted culture, nor Masters in our native culture. Whirlwind that it was, though, we’re already thinking ahead to Home Leave 2020.
Thank you for reading.
May 9th, 2018 | 01:15 PM
#7
Joined: Feb 2006
Posts: 27,709
Likes: 1
Thanks for the report! Sorry Zaytinya didn't work - I've only eaten dinner there (I like to eat at Jaleo as well when I go to DC). Like you, I always enjoy the peace and quiet in the Sackler/Freer, but it seems sad they are so neglected.
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May 9th, 2018 | 02:20 PM
#8
Joined: Mar 2015
Posts: 5,238
Likes: 0
Enjoyed your trip report. I love the postal museum too, and thats so funny you were there for a special stamp event!
Ill have to try Rasika next time. Too bad you had a bad meal at Zatinya. I think that might have been an off day, but could believe its just that youve been spoiled at home. There are a few ethnic foods that Ive eaten overseas and then just cant face eating them at home afterwards because they are so disappointing. And the reverse happens too- never a great idea to have ocean fish in the Midwest!
Ill have to try Rasika next time. Too bad you had a bad meal at Zatinya. I think that might have been an off day, but could believe its just that youve been spoiled at home. There are a few ethnic foods that Ive eaten overseas and then just cant face eating them at home afterwards because they are so disappointing. And the reverse happens too- never a great idea to have ocean fish in the Midwest!
May 9th, 2018 | 02:24 PM
#9
Joined: Nov 2008
Posts: 26,243
Likes: 0
Great post. One slight correction though (just to prove I read the whole thing!) - there is a DC metro app. We almost always travel by metro when we're there, and we're there fairly often because children and grandchildren live there.
May 9th, 2018 | 06:31 PM
#10
Joined: Feb 2003
Posts: 11,094
Likes: 1
1) do recognize that Michigan had a long winter. When someone says to you after Easter, "is tomorrow February 85th?", you know it's time for spring
2) it probably was NOT the lake perch of your youth. Restaurants now often advertise "PERCH", while serving white perch, white bass, or other pap
One restaurant I went to insisted it was YELLOW LAKE PERCH, until I insisted to see the box. The label said "Product of Lithuania" on it. BYE!!!
2) it probably was NOT the lake perch of your youth. Restaurants now often advertise "PERCH", while serving white perch, white bass, or other pap
One restaurant I went to insisted it was YELLOW LAKE PERCH, until I insisted to see the box. The label said "Product of Lithuania" on it. BYE!!!
May 10th, 2018 | 03:36 AM
#11
Original Poster
Joined: Nov 2006
Posts: 3,069
Likes: 26
Thank you, everyone, for your kind words.
thursdaysd, I share your sentiment about Freer/Sackler. The setting is serene and the art is beautiful; but, it really is more niche than "relatable," especially for families bringing children to D.C., where The Big Three reign: American, Natural, and Air & Space.
marvelousmouse, do have a meal at Rasika. Even if you are pressed for time, just order the Palak Chaat and a "Grner."
You'll be pleased.
tomboy, I want to believe The Rattlesnake Club, that prides itself on local sourcing, fresh ingredients, and so forth, would serve Great Lakes Perch, especially for the price. It certainly was not bass, so I am sticking to my belief that it was real.
thursdaysd, I share your sentiment about Freer/Sackler. The setting is serene and the art is beautiful; but, it really is more niche than "relatable," especially for families bringing children to D.C., where The Big Three reign: American, Natural, and Air & Space.
marvelousmouse, do have a meal at Rasika. Even if you are pressed for time, just order the Palak Chaat and a "Grner."
You'll be pleased.tomboy, I want to believe The Rattlesnake Club, that prides itself on local sourcing, fresh ingredients, and so forth, would serve Great Lakes Perch, especially for the price. It certainly was not bass, so I am sticking to my belief that it was real.
May 10th, 2018 | 01:00 PM
#12
Joined: Jan 2003
Posts: 19,316
Likes: 4
You are such an entertaining writer! Thanks for sharing your report.
I absolutely resonate with your opinion of the NMWA and would go even further to say that on the whole the museum is a pretty mixed bag. I think their is standing collection is oddly curated and their special exhibitions mostly fall flat for me. Beautiful building though.
I've been using CItymapper lately. My husband uses ITrans.
I absolutely resonate with your opinion of the NMWA and would go even further to say that on the whole the museum is a pretty mixed bag. I think their is standing collection is oddly curated and their special exhibitions mostly fall flat for me. Beautiful building though.
I've been using CItymapper lately. My husband uses ITrans.
May 11th, 2018 | 04:37 AM
#13
Original Poster
Joined: Nov 2006
Posts: 3,069
Likes: 26
obxgirl, thank you. We breezed through the standing collection at NMWA in search of a particular piece my friend wanted me to see but could not find it; I guess even their standing collection rotates a bit?
Thank you for the Metro apps information, too. A little too late for me, but I'll pass them along to DS (who oddly was not aware of any when we asked him). I was surprised that WMATA did not have an app; then again, in the grand scheme of things they have higher priorities.
Thank you for the Metro apps information, too. A little too late for me, but I'll pass them along to DS (who oddly was not aware of any when we asked him). I was surprised that WMATA did not have an app; then again, in the grand scheme of things they have higher priorities.
Aug 14th, 2018 | 06:04 AM
#15
Joined: Jan 2008
Posts: 1,362
Likes: 0
Fourfortravel, great report! Enjoy your writing style. We were just in the Detroit suburb of Royal Oak meeting many Big Blue fans. We still appreciate the ideas gleaned from your travels around Austria and Poland. And now have some good suggestions for restaurants in MI and DC. Thanks for sharing so many details. How long will you be based in Vienna?
