Michigandering

Noe and I just returned from a weekend in Michigan. Our original reason for going was my ten year high school reunion combined with finding some very cheap flights, but we ended up getting much more bang for our buck: Chet and Lorraine - our very good friends and former neighbors that moved to England when we moved to Connecticut - ended up coming through Michigan the week before we arrived and ended their stay in Ypsilanti with us. AND some of my mom's relatives that live up north and in Indiana were in town, along with my Uncle Jim. So Noe and I ended up attending multiple reunions of sorts.

Not only did I get to see all my favorite people, but I got to go to most of my favorite places. Being a whirlwind weekend, we kept it pretty casual. On Friday night after we landed (in Detroit via North Carolina - but that's another story) we headed immediately to Sticks/Aubree's to meet up with Chet, Lorraine, and our good friends Jen, Becky, Steve, and Rose, along with my sister Kristen (all of whom still live in Michigan).

Becky, Noe, Jen and me at Sticks

While Sticks is mostly known for lots of pool tables and great beer specials, they also have pretty good food. Lorraine and I were seriously craving some Aubree's pizza and feta bread. Aubree's has always had great pizzas (just the right ratio of crust, sauce, and cheese) with creative and delicious topping combinations. And as if the feta bread weren't enough, some genius invented spinach and feta pizza rolls - all that spinach and cheese stuffed into a garlicky, buttery crust. YUM.

Lorraine and Noe

With all the laughter and conversation, the night passed by quickly. It was 2:00 AM before we knew it. We parted reluctantly, but Noe, Jen and I were able to catch Chet and Lorraine for breakfast at the Bomber on Saturday morning before sending them back across the pond.

The Bomber, an Ypsi institution, is known mostly for the ginormous "Bomber Breakfast" (thanks, Food Network), a glutton's delight. However, if 27 sausage patties (OK, it's really more like seven) AREN'T your cup of tea, the Bomber has plenty of basic, hearty diner fare available, including some very good omelettes. I went for the Greek with feta, tomatoes, and olives (among other things) while Noe chose the Bomber omelette with ham, sausage, bacon, onions, green peppers, mushrooms, and American cheese. To add to the Bomber's charm, it's located on a most rundown section of Michigan Avenue and has model airplanes hanging from the ceiling and WWII paraphernalia on the walls.

The Bomber's less-than-glamorous Michigan Ave location

Saturday night brought reunion night - and for me, Noe, Sophie, and Anthony, a great homemade dinner at Jess and Josh's apartment. I should have taken some photos of the interior, because Jess can seriously work wonders when given permission to paint and put holes in a wall. She can also work wonders with a pork tenderloin and a spice cabinet. When I do pork tenderloin, it is usually on the grill, rubbed down with herbs de Provence and basted in garlic oil. Jess kept the herbs de Provence but added several other spices - including just the slightest bit of chili pepper for an extremely subtle kick - and roasted the meat in the oven. The result? Delicious. The drink? There was only one choice for celebrating 14 years of friendship - Champagne.

She and I could have some killer dinner parties:
Jessica's roast pork tenderloin

Rosemary potatoes and stir-fried broccoli

We hit the reunion for awhile and enjoyed catching up with everyone. In the internet age, there aren't exactly many surprises, but it is always nice to see people in person.

Jess and I at the reunion

We finished the night off with a stop at Rose's, where her Mad Men party was still in full swing. Having come from the reunion, we were unfortunately not in costume (Rose and her buddies looked AMAZING), but still enjoyed vodka tonics and gin and tonics and a Neil Diamond/ABBA dance party in the living room of Rose's period-appropriate house.

Sunday was our last full day in the mitten. During the morning we hung out with Uncle Jim (he was staying with my parents as well) and then went to see Gran and Grandpa. Noe and I hit downtown A2 for a bit (I even bought some junk at Middle Earth, just like I was 19!) then headed to the family party at what is quite possibly my favorite restaurant in the world, Sidetrack.

Kris and Noe at Sidetrack

Sidetrack is a bar. It has a great, laid-back bar atmosphere and lots of great beers on tap (including that elusive Michigan favorite, Oberon). However, they also have GREAT food. I am obsessed with their burgers, but I've had salads, sandwiches, and more, and they have always been fresh and delicious.

But let's get back to that burger.

A Sidetrack burger is a beautiful thing. Half a pound of fresh-ground, hand-rolled beef cooked to order and topped with more or less whatever you could imagine. My toppings of choice? Bleu cheese, bacon, and grilled onions - nothing else. Medium rare.

The best meal in the world. Period.

I swear, if I ever by some misfortune find myself on death row putting in my order for a last meal, it's going to be a Sidetrack burger and a draft Oberon.

We had a low-key Sunday night with a campfire and some of Sophie's black bottom cupcakes (chocolate and cream cheese goodness - Soph, you must send the recipe). It was fun, but bittersweet as we knew we had to leave again the next morning.

I have a good life in Connecticut, but weekends like this make me realize just how much I truly do miss my Michigan (and England) friends - and my Michigan food. Hang in there, Michiganders - hopefully we'll be back again soon!

Home Sweet Home

So...I've been a pretty lame blogger lately. But I've been busy. I swear. I've had busines to go on, a house to clean, a family to travel to visit...you know how the holidays are - busy.

Anyway, here I am, blogging from my real hometown - not New London, CT but rather Ypsilanti, MI. For those of you unfamiliar, that's IP-silanti, NOT YIP-silanti. I lived in Ypsi for almost 26 years before moving to Connecticut, so perhaps you can understand why I was a little bit shell-shocked during the first six months of our move.

So here I am back, back in my town that once boasted the high school with no walls. We also boast one of the world's most phallic landmarks, our infamous water tower. Perhaps Ypsilanti's most illustrious accomplishment in recent memory is managing to completely ignore the effort by some idiot to rebrand the town as "Hip, Historic, HIP-silanti." (Don't people understand the minute you label something as hip it is no longer hip? And don't they understand that "HIP-silanti" sounds really, really lame?)

So here Noe and I are, en route to Indianapolis later this morning, where we will stay until Christmas Eve morning and then come back to Ypsi.

Part of the fun of a holiday time layover in Ypsi is staying at my parents' house, usually with a various relative or two from the UP who may be down to pick up one of their kids from the aiport. This year, it was my Uncle Jim and cousin Mary, haling from Hessel, MI (population 300), down to pick up my cousin Jimmy when he flies in from Texas this morning (air force).

So, not only do you end up with seven people staying one not-very-large tri-level, you also have my parents' and sister's menagerie of pets. The seven people share the house with two dogs and five cats, all with extreme personalities and some with personality disorders. In no particular order of preference, last night we put up with:

Faygo, a pit bull rescued from the streets of Detroit and probably the best-behaved dog my family has ever owned. Also note the giant head:

Toby, the Jack Russell Terrier Kristen has been parading around horse shows for the last six years and craves attention and approval from all. He also allows himself to occasionally be stuffed into various articles of clothing, such as puff vests.

Sill, formerly Lucille, the slightly overweight and extremely needy gray dilute tortoiseshell cat that has adopted Noe as her own.

Petey, an extremely nervous and formerly depressed animal who, after being on a variety of medication for the majority of her life, has finally found the one that works: Valium.

Madeline, who technically lives in the garage because she is too destructive to live in the house. Unfortunately, she figured out how to get in to my parents' neighbors house and has continued to wreak her havoc over there.

Foster, who used to be MY cat, but due to his inability to get along with other animals, was left in Michigan when Noe, Ralph, Buns, and I departed for Connecticut. (So naturally I left him at a house with six other animals.) Foster slept with Noe last night, and it was a little rough - Foster sometimes drools and often bites. And I should probably mention that he weighs almost 20 pounds. He's my linebacker.

Last but not least, we have the world's number-one bastard, Junior. Junior started out as an extremely cute, fluffy, blue-eyed orphan kitten in Paul Meyer's barn. After Kristen convinced my dad to let her keep him, he got huge, thinned out, his face grew pointy and his eyes turned yellow. He now resembles a weasel both in looks and temperment.

So now we prepare to depart for Indianapolis, where, after last night at the zoo, a five-year old nephew sounds downright calm and peaceful. I'll continue my blogging throughout the holidays, so tune in for more adventures from the homefront.