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Another visit to The Auld Rogue…

I seriously think The Auld Rogue could end up being a regular stop for us when we do our Sunday shopping.  It’s convenient to Patch and Panzer, has good service and food, and a great variety of beers.  We went there yesterday at around 2:30 or so because we were hungry.  Yesterday also happened to be our 12th wedding anniversary.

Bill and I enjoy a round.  I had a Murphy’s Red and he had his usual Guinness.  A couple had an adorable, sweet, and well-behaved golden retriever with them who came over to say hi.  I wish our dogs were calm enough to go to restaurants.

Bill had Shepherd’s Pie, which was very good, but huge.  I wouldn’t have liked it because it had mushrooms in it.  Bill did note that since it was served with fries, he got two servings of potatoes.  I guess to a guy with as much Irish blood as Bill has, that’s not a bad thing.

 

I had fish and chips.  I enjoyed the chips especially.  They were just about perfect.  Once again, I eschewed the spare ribs in favor of something else.  I’ll get to them eventually.  The fish was good, though the breading was less batter and more bread crumbs.  It was very enjoyable and the portion size of the fish was about right.  I still had plenty of fries and salad leftover.

And because it was our anniversary, I had a large pour of Oban 14 year old scotch…  It was quite nice.  8 euros for .4cl and worth every euro cent.  Smaller pours go for 4 euros.

As we were having lunch, I got caught up in watching a rugby game on one of the large TVs.  I don’t usually enjoy watching sports, but I think I could get into rugby.  Ireland and Georgia were playing, which made it especially interesting for me.  Since I once lived in Armenia, I used to live near the Republic of Georgia.

I think the bartender recognized us.  He may have spotted us as new regulars.

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Wonderful French food in San Antonio!

Today is our 11th wedding anniversary; so Bill and I decided to go out to dinner.  We did the same thing last year on our anniversary.  Of course, last year, we were in Glasgow, Scotland!  This year, we are in San Antonio.

As is his custom, Bill had me find an appropriate restaurant.  First, I went to OpenTable.com, which is where I usually go when I want to find a good place to eat.  But none of the restaurants I was finding were really thrilling me.  Frustrated, I soon found myself on TripAdvisor.com, where I stumbled across a review for a relatively new French restaurant in downtown San Antonio called Saveurs 209.  The reviews I read were very compelling.  I looked up their Web site, which is currently offline.  Fortunately, Saveurs 209 is on Facebook.  I liked their page and Bill called for reservations, since they have no need for OpenTable.  It turns out this little French place, owned and run by French people, is an intimate venue.

We arrived at the restaurant at 7:00pm, just in time for our reservation.  

Bill was happy to be there.  He had just chosen a lovely Bordeaux to go with our meals.  The wine list at Saveurs 209 is exclusively French.  We did not notice liquor on offer, though there’s plenty of good wine and beer.

Saveurs 209’s menu is brief, with just a few starters and entrees to choose from.  I did not see much of anything on offer for vegetarians or vegans.  I saw no salads to speak of, either.  However, of the few selections on offer for each course, I had no trouble finding things I liked well enough to try.  I can be reluctant to eat things outside of my comfort zone, but I found two out of four starters I’d be comfortable trying and three out of five or six entrees that looked very appealing.

A tasty amuse of phyllo pastry with chicken, green onions, and red onions was offered just before the delightful bread.  

Bread seems to come out non-stop at Saveurs 209.  It was crispy on the outside, chewy on the inside, and served with insanely delicious butter (I am a freak for good butter).

Bill opted for a mushroom tart, which came on phyllo pastry.  He said the mushrooms were meaty and not earthy at all.  I do not eat mushrooms, so I don’t know.  I had the butternut squash soup served with hazelnut mousse and a quail’s egg.  The tiny, delicate, quail’s egg was *perfectly* soft boiled.  The soup came in a small pitcher, which one of the owners, dressed in a stylish wrap dress, poured into the set up.  Very classy and very delicious!

I had seared scallops for my entree.  It came with fantastic mashed potatoes, which were very well pureed and no doubt loaded with bad things.  But wow, they were so scrumptious.  The sea scallops were perfectly prepared– done just enough to be cooked but not at all dried out or rubbery– and topped with gremolata, an herb condiment.  The scallops were atop a poultry jus and three were plenty.

Bill had halibut with cannellini beans and a clam ragout and citrus emulsion.  The fish was covered in froth and tasted heavenly.  This was one of the dishes I had my eye on before I decided on the scallops.

We really enjoyed this red wine.  I told the waiter I wanted to snap a photo of this Bordeaux because we might want to buy some locally if we can find it.  He told us if we couldn’t get it, we could buy it for $20 a bottle from the restaurant (quite a break from their wine list price).  Later, he told us how to find it in San Antonio.

For dessert, I had a sinful chocolate soufflé served with orange sorbet.  It took about 15 minutes to make and was worth the wait.  Bill had a dacquoise with hazelnut cream, coffee and chocolate layers, and a side of coffee ice cream.  Bill could finish his dessert, but I cried “Uncle” about halfway through mine.  I noticed the lady near us had ordered the soufflé and also had to quit.  You could easily split this dessert and since it costs $12, that might be the smart thing to do.  Other options included a cheese plate and fruit inspired creations.

Bill and I enjoyed a nice round of espresso while we reflected on the delightful meal.  Our bill was about $181 before tip.  Service was excellent and there were only a few couples in the place, though a couple of folks stopped in to inquire.  Saveurs 209 seems to be relying on word of mouth to get themselves on the map.  Bill and I really enjoyed the low key atmosphere and lack of a huge crowd.

Saveurs 209 is run by a French couple and their daughter, who is a wonderful chef.  I read several accounts of the creative way she creates food.  Indeed, she was there tonight, in all her French chef glory, wearing the tall French chef’s hat and everything.  We could see her work from the small dining room.  Each item that came from the kitchen was exquisitely prepared, but what I loved about the experience was how European it was.  No one rushed us.  No one dropped the check as we were halfway through dessert.  Service was excellent and very professional, yet friendly and personable.  It was very civilized and, yes, reminded me very much of one of the bistros Bill and I enjoyed in Paris back when we visited in May 2009.

One thing to know is that parking near the restaurant is either on the street or in a public lot.  There is no valet parking.  But we thought it was well worth the $7 we spent on parking and the short walk, which helped us digest a splendid meal.  Also, portion sizes are not huge at Saveurs 209.  Personally, I found that refreshing.  We didn’t leave hungry, but we also didn’t leave feeling stuffed.  Prospective diners should be aware that they won’t be given a trough of food to eat that will last several meals at home.  The only leftovers we had were my chocolate soufflé, which we didn’t attempt to take with us.

We liked Saveurs 209 so much that we made reservations to return for Thanksgiving dinner.  They will be offering their regular menu and special Thanksgiving inspired options.  Lunch will be offered from 11:00 until 2:00, while dinner is from 6:00 until 9:30.  I can hardly wait to see what this charming French family does with the traditional dishes served on our very American holiday.  And when I inquired about Thanksgiving, they were delighted to know that we would be joining them!

Here’s is a link to another review written by a San Antonio based blogger.

I got all dolled up…

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Our anniversary is around the corner…

November 16, it’ll be 11 years with Bill.  We usually go away for our anniversaries.  Last year, we went to Scotland.  The year before that, we were in the southern Caribbean.  The year before that, we went to Asheville, North Carolina.  This year…  nothing.

We didn’t plan anything because we just moved to Texas and we knew we would have less cash flow here than we did in North Carolina.  And the eleventh anniversary isn’t as big of a deal as the tenth is, right?

Travel has become really important to me, though.  I miss getting to see the world, even though we’ve only been in Texas since late July.  We have been getting to know San Antonio, but I still long for a change of scenery.  At the very least, a trip would give me something to write about in my travel blog.

I’m sure we’ll have a dinner out or something…  It sort of pales in comparison to Scotland, though.  I still need to figure out what to give Bill.  A friend of mine wrote that Hallmark says the gift should be made of steel.  My response?  Handcuffs it is!  Of course, the very first gift I ever bought Bill was a pair of Smith & Wesson handcuffs.  I bought them because he dared me to.

He rarely uses them.  😉

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A blast from the past…

For some reason this afternoon, I decided to look up a haunt I used to know about when I was a Peace Corps Volunteer in the Republic of Armenia.  During training, we were introduced to a restaurant in Yerevan owned by an Armenian-American named Gerard.  It was called The Chicken Coop.  Gerard also owned a small upscale food store that carried a few odds and ends that Americans would most likely be interested in.

For some reason, I thought of The Chicken Coop today.  I only ate there one time during the entire two years I lived in Armenia.  But I wondered if it was still operational.  I looked it up on Google and didn’t really find anything about the restaurant that suggested that it was still open.  But I did find a photo that mentioned it.  I clicked on the photo and suddenly found myself looking at a whole gallery of pictures taken by a man who had served in the Peace Corps with me.  The pictures were posted in 2008 and it doesn’t look like he still maintains the album.

As I looked at the photos, I was suddenly transported back in time about 18 years.  In fact, today is an anniversary of sorts.  On May 31, 1995, the 32 people in my Peace Corps training group boarded a United Airlines flight to Paris, France, where we would spend the whole day waiting for a 7:30 flight  to Yerevan, Armenia.  Since Armenia is two hours ahead of Paris, we would be landing in Yerevan in the middle of the night.  As I recall, it took many hours for us to get out of the airport.  The public restrooms were filthy and disgusting and the place was poorly lit because there was little electricity back then.

I remember how the group that came before us, A-2, showed up at the airport to say hello to us.  I think they gave us drinks and snacks as we passed through.  Seems to me we were headed to Hotel Armenia just as the sun was rising.  We had breakfast there and a meeting, then went to our rooms on the “old side” of the hotel.  I think I slept all day and regained consciousness sometime that evening.  The next day, we had another meeting and then got shuffled off to our host families.  I remember my name was the first one called when we were getting our host families.

I was 22 years old then… and would be turning 23 about three weeks later.  It was my first big adventure and really quite a daring thing to be doing.  Back then, I was quite a mess and probably had no business going to Armenia.  But I got through the 27 month commitment in one piece and came back profoundly depressed, yet stronger than I was before.  I learned a lot during that time.  Being in the Peace Corps made me braver and awoke the travel bug that I was probably born with.

I wish I could say that I was an exemplary Volunteer or that I joined for altruistic reasons.  I joined the Peace Corps mostly because I wanted to break out of the life I was in at the time.  I was actually very surprised the Peace Corps accepted me, since I didn’t have a particularly exciting resume at the time.  I went to an average college and wasn’t involved in that much service work.  I’d had average grades in college, too.  Maybe it was because my sister was also a PCV at one time.  My overachieving sister had also been a Volunteer, back in the 1980s.  She went to Morocco and the proceeded to embark upon a successful career working for an non-profit organization.  I thought maybe I was headed in the same direction, but fate intervened.

Looking at Zach’s photos, I learned that one of the Peace Corps Volunteers who served in A-5– they had come two years after my group– died in a car accident just as she was on her way to start a new job in Nigeria.  She’d done her time in Armenia, plus worked there for three more years.  I’m ashamed to say that I barely remember her, though she apparently did some really great things for the people of Armenia.  What a tragedy that she lost her life so young.  She sounds like a remarkable young woman.

I pulled down my own photo albums, which are full of a lot of pictures that aren’t as artistic as Zach’s are.  In a way, those photos are kind of painful to look at.  It was an exciting time and I learned and grew a lot, but I was really depressed and unsure of myself back then.  I don’t think I really lived up to my potential.  I can’t say it was wasted time… but I’m sure the time I put in there could have been more wisely spent.  I wish I had spent my time there being more productive than I ultimately was.  I did accomplish some things, though, and I can honestly say that the Peace Corps affected my life in a profound way.

I still talk to some of the people I knew at that time in my life, but it all seems kind of like a dream now. I mean, the years have flown by very quickly and it seems like yesterday… and yet it also seems like a lifetime ago, almost like it never happened.

The group that had survived up until four months before our service ended…  I was really ready to go home by then.
 
 
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