Our new favorite restaurant

Last Saturday, in a belated celebration of our 30th wedding anniversary, Lynn and I made our first visit to Wine Vault & Bistro. In the course of an evening, five courses and a flight of five wines, this "break the mold" restaurant has become our new favorite.

Chris & Mary Gluck, the owners of Wine Vault & Bistro, have created a new category. The business model is as brilliant as the execution.

Our experience...we ordered the five course Chef's Tasting Menu. There was only one other choice, a cheese plate. This was the first indication that this restaurant was different. Only one choice? Keeps the food costs down, which with a $25 charge for the tasting menu, were passed along to the customer. And who would have thought that fried watermelon, served with a tomato, burrata cheese and micro-basil with a splash of balsamic vinegar, would make an appetizing appetizer? Obviously, the chef, and it worked! As did everything else on the menu. In a time when most restaurants cater to the bland, Wine Vault & Bistro ain't afraid to challenge those taste buds. The rest of the menu consisted of black truffle gnocchi, roasted poussin, brisket with spaetzle, and a flourless chocolate cake.

All accompanied by paired wines. You wander to the wine bar, located in the center of the restaurant, and dutifully hand your check-sheet to the keeper of the grape. He pours your wine in a small carafe and you march back to your table. On the check-sheet are complete, detailed descriptions of each of the wines. Keeps the chatter at the bar to a minimum.

OK, great food paired with perfectly complimenting wines. What's to not like? Well, located at 3731-A India Street, parking is a challenge, but not insurmountable.

Chris and Mary were gracious hosts and have created a wonderful experience.

We learned about the restaurant from Eddie Osterland, America's First Master Sommelier. You won't find the restaurant advertised anywhere. Strictly word-of-mouth, strictly by invitation only through their e-mail list.

If you want to experience this amazing restaurant I would recommend checking out the website, www.winevaultbistro.com and plead to be added to the mailing list.

The Death of The San Diego Union-Tribune

Each week brings another wound, the equivalent of death by a thousand paper cuts, to the local fish wrapper.

Between the onslaught of the Internet, Craigslist, and the host of specialized websites and blogs, newspapers have become the incredible shrinking clarions. Ignore the fact that what you see on the front page you saw last night (or two days ago) on the web. It's the rest of the newspaper that is withering, making it less immediate.

• Whither the Book Section? The San Diego Union-Tribune was once one of seven newspapers that published a weekly book section. Now the "section" has been relegated to a page in the Arts and the occasional mid-week review. Hello! Readers of newspapers probably read books.
• Advertisements on the front page of the newspaper!
• Expanded charts from Del Mar disappeared about a week ago, driving all degenerate track hounds to...the web.
• A new section, written by the public, is almost unreadable. The articles read like the worst PR puff-pieces, generously larded with deadly prose and grammatical leaps of faith.
• Ditto the North County, or East County sections. In an attempt to make all news local, the Union-Tribune has dumbed-down to the lowest possible denominator.
• No more TV Guide in the paper. OK, I haven't used it years and I suspect that I am not alone, but senior citizens are up in arms. Easy for us to snicker at them and suggest they hit the Guide button on their cable controller, but c'mon, technology may not be their "thang."

Instead we have a list of celebrity birthdays, a column on page 2 that regales us with the comings and goings of such paragons of sobriety as Amy Winehouse, Brittany Spears, and Lindsay Lohan. The newspaper is becoming a collection in inane, superficial factoids.

Maybe it is time to think the unthinkable. The lazy Sunday mornings with the newspaper spread over the breakfast table, decorated with scone crumbs and coffee mug rings, may be only a few in number. Doing the New York Times crossword puzzle may not be enough to justify keeping the subscription.

Best ot Italy...the meals

During our stay in Manarola, one the Cinque Terre, we ate dinner at Il Picciolino, under the watchful eye of the matriarch of the family that runs the restaurant. We had an appetizer, a caprese salad, tomatoes and mozzarella. Lynn opted for the the ravioli while I chose the spaghetti with clam sauce. That was the primi piatti, or first dish. If there's a first there must be a secundi piatti and here we both at sole. Sole that had been swimming in the ocean that morning, caught by one of the Manarola fishermen. Then we finished with cappuchino.

This was about nineteen days into our trip. We groaned during our walk back to the hotel, groaned because we had eaten so much we were in distress. We had our epiphany...essentially we had spent most of the past three weeks consuming two entrees at every dinner.

Here then, are our choices for the best meals we ate while in Italy.

4th Place...the aforementioned Il Picciolino. Family owned, fresh seafood, the never ending bowl of pasta.

3rd Place...Tre Scalini, Piazza Navona, Rome...A front row seat at one of Rome's liveliest piazzas, and home of Bernini's Four Rivers fountain. We ate a leisurely dinner and watched the circus that unfolded before our eyes. Lynn had ravioli and a veal piccata, while I ate rigatoni all' Amatriciana (a Roman sauce) and oso buco, veal shank. Dessert, coffee, wine and a maitre d' who did lines from the movie Barry Lyndon rounded out the evening.

2nd Place...Enoteca da Valigia, Venice...after stumbling out of this wine bar following a wine tasting, we asked if we could return for dinner. A hearty yes. Did we need reservations? An equally hearty no. When we arrived that same evening we were ushered to a tiny table for two. We were surrounded by native Venetians, a singing owner, and our irrepressible waiter, who insisted on plying us with free drinks (prosecco when we sat down, a palate-cleansing lemon sorbet--spiced up with vodka and prosecco, and a Bailey's Irish Cream to put an end to things.) Lynn had pennette with a pesto sauce, I demolished most of the mixed antipasto plate of Italian meats. Then we moved to John Dory for Lynn, and lamb chops for me.

1st Place...Cantina del Vecchio, Rome, Via del Coronari, 30...Run by an amiable British expat with an encyclopedic knowledge of Italian wines, we had our last supper in Rome at Cantina del Vecchio, the scene of an earlier wine tasting. We made reservations for the Friday night and entered a restaurant where every table was taken. Alan, who was delighted to see us, escorted us to our table and personally took our orders. We told him that we ha decided to try the house specialities he had mentioned during our earlier visit and that he had carte blanche to bring any wine that he felt would be paired well with our choices. We shared a risotto with guinea fowl and shaved Pienza cheese. Lynn had the turbot, stuffed with prosciutto, zucchini and potatoes, while I had lamb stuffed with bacon and plums. We weren't quite singing following the dinner, but one more sip of wine might have done it. Alan was a superb host and a restaurateur who takes a very different approach than most of his Roman competitors. Here's his website: http://www.cantinadelvecchio.it/default.asp. Obviously, our first choice for a meal when in Rome.

More later...

I see dead people

Italy is stuffed with famous dead people. They've had a couple of millenia head start on us. So quickly, a list of some of the dead people we have seen.

• Victor Emmanuel II...not a big fan among the Romans
• Rafael
• Pope John XXIII...whose body did not decay after death
• Michelangelo
• Galileo
• Enrico Fermi...for your physicists
• St. Francis of Assisi
• St. Clare...his Assisi homegirl
• The final resting spot of Julius Caesar, but you know the saying, ashes to ashes
• St. Ignatius de la Salle
• His homeboy, Luis Gonzaga...he has an NCAA powerhouse named after him

That's just to name a few. They history is rich, byzantine, convoluted...hey, it's Italy where the government has changed over 40 times since the end of World War II.

We are cruising through our last day in Florence. Next stop, some excellent gelato, then a 15th century home, and a few other stops before dinner tonight.

Bad fashion idea: men in capri pants, there ought to be a law.

Also, we have seen our fair share of Germans on this trip. Other than Italian, it's the next most spoken language we have heard here...even more than English (and we've got the UK, Canada, Australia, New Zealand and the good old USA to contribute to that lingua franca.) The Germans have a history of marching through Italy, from barbarian days until, well, barbarian days. In Rome you could spot the German tour groups with no problem. They all dressed alike, the most disturbing a group of middle aged men in black shirts and pants and orange and yellow striped ties. Then another group in traditional dress.

We added Siena to our city list, visiting because our amazing niece, Katie, is heading here next school year for a semester abroad. She'll miss the Palio but will have a great time living in a medieval city.

Arriverderci!

Lessons from Italy, or Leccioni di Italia

In Firenze, still befuddled by the keyboard, but it does allow you to use the right "e" in café!

We spent a week at a farmhouse in Umbria, where we learned the Centigrade system by its continuous plummet. The stone farmhouse we lived in for the week posted temperatures in the 12° or 13° range. Think low 50s. Being a man who had more than his share of engineering schooling, I figured out how to turn on the heater (as well as mastering the stovetop espresso maker) only to learn heat was extra! $2,300 for the week and heat was extra!

It rained for seven days straight in Umbria, so the visions of sitting in the Italian countryside sun and eating breakfast and dinner al fresco was not to be. I did manage a couple of cigars in the evening, listening to the lowing of the cattle.

The Tuscans and Umbrians have a thing going, as in the other guys stuff is basically ALL WRONG. The wine, the bread, the olive oil, the pizza, the ceramics, everything...if it comes from the other camp, worthless.

Highlights of the past week:

• Cortona...even with the influence of Frances Mayes and Under the Tuscan Sun, the town is charming and has one of the most unusual museums we have ever seen
• The cooking class at Badia a Coltibuono, the Abbey of Good Harvest...we are armed an dangerous with four incredible recipes (our chef was quite the wit, when asked what a typical Italian breakfast consisted of he replied, "Coffee and a cigarette.")
• Assisi where we visited the amazing Basilica of Saint Francis, the Church of Saint Clare (who founded the Poor Clares order after falling under the sway of Francesco), and other assorted churches

In Florence, where we currently are hanging out in an eye-popping hotel suite on the Piazza del Signoria, We saw the monastic cell of Fra Girolamo Savaranola, the ascetic who overturned the rule of the Medicis, culminating in the "Bonfire of the Vanities". The bonfire was lighted not 100 yards from our hotel room.

Now, the promised lessons:

• Despite two lane freeways (tollroads) traffic flows because of lane discipline. If you are not passing someone you are in the right lane. Reached speeds on nearly 145 kph, (pushing 95 mph) on some of our drives.
• Never travel in Italy without a GPS. We didn't have one and I managed to get lost every day.
• The work hours here are amazing. Things open at, say 10:00 a.m. and close about three hours later for the two or two-and-a-halk hour siesta. When the shops reopen, they stay open until, oh, 8:00 p.m. And it all works.
• Jumping in for a quick espresso or long coffee (a cappuchino, for example) is an honored tradition. You belly up to the bar, and if it's an espresso you slug it down in one or two swallows, pay, and you are on your way.

Despite the statistics that show Italy with one of the lowest birthrates in Europe, all we have seen are strollers, pushed by doting parents or grandparents.

Lynn was nearly bowled over yesterday by one of the municipal policeman who raced around the corner to nab a string of Senegalese street merchants selling knock-off purses. The man who sounded the alarm to his fellows lost his entire inventory, about 20 purses, and the others got away with various amounts. An interesting symbiosis...as long as the wares aren't on display everyone politely ignores each other.

Might manage one more post before the return.

Arriverderci a tutti!

Buona sera!

Ah, globalization! I am sitting in a Mail Boxes, Etc. on the Via del Germanico in Rome, Italy. As I was having my caffé today, I figured the best way to keep in touch with all of you is the blog.

We arrived on Sunday, May 11th and we have been busy. We arrived in time to receive the Sunday blessing from Pope Benedict XVI, who gave the blessing in eight languages. I was proud that I could order breakfast in Italian!

Just the facts, ma'am, because I really don't want to be spending all my time here mastering the Euro keyboard.

We have visited:

• The Vatican Museums, including several rooms painted by Raphael...the most amazing being the room of signatures
• Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel
• The Piéta
• St. Peter's Basilica...including the corpus incoruptus of Pope John XXIII and a rather sinsiter likeness of Pope Pius XII
• The Colosseum
• The Roman Forum
• The Victor Emanuele Monument (not a favorite of true Romans)
• A wine tasting in a restaurant owned by a British expat
• A tour of the Borghese gallery that satisfies one's desires to see Carravaggio paintings...but Cardinal Scipione Borghese, who as the Vatican's Secretary of State had unlimited funds, also had an unlimited budget to collect and commission art
• Including Bernini sculptures that take the breath away, busts of the Roman emperors, and on and on
• A walking tour of Bernini and Borromolio works, the Piazza Navona, several churches
• The Pantheon, the only intact Roman pagan temple (it survives because it was made a gift to the Church)
• And we've had some incredible pastas, pizzas and gelati

Walking at least five miles each day.

I have filled nearly 60 pages in the journal in the first four days. I will definitely run out of ink...I may run out of pages in the new Moleskine.

Although I make the effort to speak in Italian, everyone, including the carbineri answer in English!

Hubris, Thy Name is Spitzer

The crusading District Attorney-cum-New York Governor Eliot Spitzer, the man who ran roughshod over Wall Street and the insurance industry, the man who destroyed reputations in his insatiable quest for ever higher political office, is also a man who reportedly spent $80,000 on prostitutes.

Whores. Hey, just because they command $5,500 an hour doesn't make them anything special. As my dad says, they're "hoo-ers."

Women and men have differing views when it comes to the intimate personal services industry known as prostitution. Women have trouble grasping the whole concept, in the best possible moral way. Guys think, "The dude's a loser. He has to pay for it." Power, money, prestige...and he's shelling out mid four figures for a little strange? As in, what's up with Charlie Sheen?

And what's with trotting the wife out in front of the cameras? Silda Spitzer joins the long line of political spouses forced into the obligatory "stand by your man" role. The poor woman looks like she's been either been hit by a train, or she hit the Absolut pretty heavy before strolling out with the Crusading Panderer. Just once I'd like to see a politician's wife snort into the camera, mutter something about bullshit, and walk off the stage.

Gov. Spitzer's holier-than-thou mien makes this a story with legs. Not even Al-Qaeda can knock this putz off the front page. Google shows 1,330,000 results, and 1,329,998 are probably related to his Emperors Club VIP status. Clay feet? Up to the knees.

Like Idaho's Senator Larry Craig, it's not what they did as much as who did it. Don't hold yourself as the paragon of family values if you have a "wide stance." Don't play Hercules cleaning the Stygian Stables of Wall Street when your own stable has a distinctly Runyonesque air.

Ah, Eliot...go quietly into the night...but go quickly as well. And Silda, throw his stuff on the lawn, change the locks and hire the best divorce lawyer in New York.

A favorite piece of clothing

For nearly twenty-five years I have owned a Railroad Vest from Woolrich. The first one I wore for about fifteen years and then passed it down to my son. The second, and current one, is the replacement.

No one in my family traces employment in the railroad industry (though my grandfather worked as a carpenter for the CTA, the Chicago Transit Authority.) No nostalgic root, the damn thing is functional.

The vest has four pockets and is made of a coarse wool, black, flecked with gray. I have two buttons on the left breast pockets, one featuring Bagel Radio, an Internet radio station and the other the first Birdmonster button. At times I have adorned that pocket with a Division Day button and a pin from the Cowboy Poetry Festival in Elko, Nevada.

Fuctional, utilitarian. And, it gathers a lot of compliments. Not that I am clothes horse (I was in my younger days), nor do I really give a lot of thought to what I wear (though, again, in the old days...), but the vest works. It brings in the fall, lasts through the winter, the tougher spring days and then gets hung for the duration.

Limbaugh's Last Gasp

Senator John McCain's shocking comeback from forgotten candidate to the Republican Party standard bearer comes with a couple of staggering consequences.

McCain can be compared, without a shred of irony, to Bill Clinton. Clinton's initial run for the presidency was based on a calculating move to the center, an effort to present himself as a moderate. No shrieking liberal, Clinton portrayed himself as a New Democrat. He tore pages, if not chapters, out of the Republican playbook.

The fundamental difference between McCain and Clinton is that while Clinton crassly postured and pandered, McCain has always presented himself as an outsider within his own party. He can cavil about being a "true conservative" but no one is fooled. The Arizona Senator and former prisoner of war has always been a bit of a leftie.

Hell, that's why I love the guy. That's why I have twice been a "Republican for a day", so that my vote would count in the convoluted rules of the California primaries.

Because here are the consequences I alluded to earlier. In both cases, the emperor will be revealed to have not a stitch of clothing.

The first is the end of the religious right's stranglehold on the Republican Party. Mike Huckabee is the last evangelical warrior, his candidacy bouyed by the Christian Right. The shrill on either end of the political spectrum frighten me. There is certainly room in any political discussion for moral issues and debate. But, come on, the pro-choice/right to life argument is over. And what's this about a Reagan legacy? It's about as relevant as the Kennedy legacy. This is not 1980 and it's certainly not 1960. And frankly, I am mortally weary of heir (heiress) apparents and anointed successors.

The second is Rush Limbaugh's last gasp. This pompous windbag and his accolytes, including Ann Coulter, have been marginalized by the McCain campaign. Their collective wheezings have taken on a desperation bordering on the comical. They are first and foremost entertainers concerned about ratings and book sales. They are as calculating and crass as Bill Clinton was in 1992, all with their collective eyes on the prize.

Are Limbaugh and Coulter really going to line up behind Hillary Clinton or Barack Obama? The answer should be who cares. Conservative talk radio bears a striking resemblance to Britney Spears, a spotlight seeking train wreck. Perhaps a better comparison is Paris Hilton, famous for being famous. All are fatuous, all could disappear without a trace and leave not a ripple in the pond.

A McCain victory for the Republican Party's nomination as president would silence the religious right and conservative talk radio. A McCain victory in the general election in November would render both to a justifiable footnote status in political history.

And now for something completely different...

McCain has been known for making the bold move. The smart money is on him naming one of his chief opponents, Mitt Romney or the aforementioned Huckabee, as his running mate. What would really alter the political landscape and lead to a wailing and gnashing of teeth on both sides of the aisle?

How about naming Senator Joe Lieberman as Vice President? Lieberman would have to eschew his independent mantle and join the Republican Party. His candidacy would really give us something to discuss, debate, and chew on for weeks, if not months, to come.