Rock the Crockpot!

Posted on October 8, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

Our generation was never quite as obsessed with kitchen gadgetry as our parents were. Most people never seem to venture beyond a blender and a George Foreman Grill. After all, Margaritas and paninis can get you through your 20s just fine.

But maybe you are starting to get a little more excited by all of that shiny, shiny, chrome in the back aisle of Crate and Barrel.

One standard in your parent’s pantry is the good old crockpot. Don’t allow a few bland dinners of bygone days to tarnish its memory. This is a magic machine. It cooks while keeping the house cool on the warmest of days — we’re all a little tired of salads by now, aren’t we? And as the temperature drops, it is the perfect way to make the homey soups and stews of Autumn. You can even ignore it and it won’t burn the house down. I can’t even say that about a human child.

It’s still not quite soup weather, and a human child should never, ever be put in a crockpot, not even during Hide and Seek. So what’s cooking? How about a badass pulled pork sandwich from our neighbors in Tennessee?

Pulled Pork

3 to 4 pounds pork shoulder roast, boneless
1/4 cup cider vinegar
1/4 cup white vinegar
1 chopped onion
1/4 cup Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon Tabasco or similar hot pepper sauce
1 Tablespoon molasses
¼ cup brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons garlic, minced
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
¼ tsp dry mustard
1 cup ketchup
1/2 lemon, juiced

Throw all of this stuff in the crockpot, turn it on low, and give it a stir. You might want to add a little apple juice or water to cover the meat.

Now go master Guitar Hero, Twitter, get a hip hairstyle, hey, maybe go out and work all day. Whatever. The crockpot doesn’t give a damn what you do. Just go away for about 6 to 8 hours. The crockpot needs its alone time.

Shred the pork using 2 forks in a barbarian tearing motion. Toss the fat and bone if you find any. Serve with:

Hamburger buns
A little BBQ sauce (We like Sweet Baby Rays, ourselves)
Coleslaw. (Yes, On the sandwich. That’s right. Just do it. It will all make sense in a minute.)

Posted in Recipes | 6 Comments

LA Chocolate Salon Gives us Frizzy Perms

Posted on October 7, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

When Lindsay was invited to judge The Los Angeles Luxury Chocolate Salon, we imagined chaise lounges and champagne. Unfortunately, it was more like matriculating at your local junior college. The judges were given the impression it was a competition, the chocolatiers were given the impression it was a trade show, and the 20-dollar-a-head guests were given the impression it was an all-you-can-eat chocolate orgy.

Most of the tables had chopped samples up into itsy-bitsy powdery flakes that melted in your hands, not in your mouth. Lindsay, as an official judge, still had to practically beg for samples to judge.

We were glad to see Caroline on Crack, This Delicious Life, E*starLA, and a few other bloggers there. Traditionally loners, bloggers are really fun and kind of scary when we travel in packs.

My two favorites of the day were:

The Ginger English Toffee, an unexpected pairing, from Valerie Confections. The chocolate was smooth and silky on the tongue. The boxes were also tasteful and elegant. Lindsay loved their salted and orange toffees.

The most exciting offering was from Chuao, WOW! Their firecracker chocolates burst on the tongue with a deep chocolate and chipotle, combined with the light crunch of a wafer and a sparking surprise. It IS like celebrating 4th of July – in your MOUTH!

Their new ChocoPods had unusual, yes, pod-shaped chocolates filled with delicious banana goo.

My main photo card went missing, so I’m short on pictures. I will do my best to give you the flavor of the event. I will have to borrow a photo of the trippy rainbow chocolate man from TheFost on Flickr. Let your freak flag fly!

Although Chocolatique had lovely boxed confectionaries, with some truly exciting flavors, the real stars were the chocolate-drizzled nuts.

Screw gingerbread!

The salesman at Vermeer was not only nice enough to give us cool, refreshing shots, but little airline bottles of the chocolate liquer as well. A little less coffee-flavored, and a little more chocolatey than Kahlua, you can down an airline bottle with a xanax and blow that PMS out of the water.

Christopher Michael Chocolates, home of “The Cacao Bar” was having PTSD from what must have been wild hordes of clawing, clutching women devouring all of his chocolate. he had no idea why Lindsay wanted his chocolate. He had no idea it was a competition. He had no idea when the Viet Cong’s choppers were landing to attack. I tried a “mojito” that was pretty good, but was so heavily airbrushed with silvery-green paint it looked like I’d just blown Godzilla. The “Lemongrass” tasted like green tea and vomit. So maybe those flavors got mixed up.

Sacred Chocolates had a trippy mushroom flavor that would only have been good if it had contained hallucinogens. But I did like the Hibiscus Chai. This butterfly lady and trippy Willy Wonka hat guy started making out heavily as Caroline approached their table, so she passed on that one.

Sunfood Nutrition offered whole cacao beans and goji berries for making your own trail mix. So they took the hippie crown away from the Cosmic table. The whole raw chocolate was kind of cool, and the people were super groovy, naturally.

Amano had a lot to teach us about chocolate making. But the speakers had been droning on the loudspeaker all day, and if I heard the word “cacao” one more time I was going to scream. So let’s just wait and let Lindsay interview them at a later date.

Rushburn offered old-school toffee and super-excellent customer service.

The San Francisco Toffee Company had a white chocolate toffee that was a nice change of pace.

The Chocolate Traveler had cool packaging and interesting gift ideas, but their table was too crowded for me to check out. It was a favorite amongst the kids and I couldn’t penetrate the swarm.

Marti Chocolates had the most exotic selection by far. It was exciting to try Durian. Totally worth it. But the goat cheese chocolate? Oh my God, I felt like my mouth had been assaulted! Somebody call the police! This chocolate is a felony!!!

Links to Chocolate Purveyers

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Festival Fun!

Posted on September 30, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

OK, Had enough of Alaska? Besides being a travelin’ kind of summer, it was also one filled with fairs and festivals. Here are links to some of my other posts. I just can’t deal with all of the photo uploading. It doesn’t mean I love you any less. I love all of my blogs exactly the same.

Brew Ha Ha!

What’s Frying at the LA County Fair

Red Hot @ Red Seven

Red Hot @ Red Seven Part 2

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Day 13: Talkeetna and Anchorage or Bust!

Posted on August 29, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

Our last full day in Alaska. Le Sigh. When I woke up, I almost forgot what state I was in. So thank God there was this lamp there to remind me.

And this chair.

And this other lamp.

Secure in the knowledge that I was indeed in Alaska, I packed up and headed for the shuttle. We spent the morning in Talkeetna, my favorite city. For breakfast I hit the Roadhouse, which is famous for – 14-inch pancakes! Yes! Someone is actually going to outdo that size queen The Elbow Room.

Speaking of elbows, I didn’t have a measuring tape on me, and this one, although huge, just didn’t FEEL like 14 inches to me. So I measured it using my arm, and it was exactly pinkie finger to elbow, which for some reason I know is just over 14 inches. So there you go, let me know when one of you tops that and I’ll be on my way!

This blueberry monster was delicious – a little more eggy, like a crepe, perhaps with a little melted butter in the batter. So if it’s thickness that counts, well, we’re back to The Elbow Room.

Someone else from our pod teasingly asked me to photograph his food, so here is random guy’s reindeer meatball sandwich.

While I was enjoying my giant pancake, Ralph ate a sausage from some hooved animal that we hadn’t covered yet from this stand. He said it was delicious.

This is where President Warren G Harding stayed in 1923 when he went to Alaska to hammer in the Golden Spike. He had the nerve to room both his wife and mistress here at the same hotel. He died of poisoning in San Francisco less than a week later, causing some people to blame the hotel’s seafood. But it is interesting that no one else in the party got poisoned except for the guy who brought his mistress.

I am going to miss Talkeetna, with its quirkiness and gigantic flowers.

Someone has evidently figured out how to tolerate the “Watneys Red Barrel” bus tours

With a perfectly clear sky, it suddenly started raining on us at the train station. Very Charlie Brown-esque.

As the train pulled out, we were instructed to look back for one last view of Denali. Now, everyone had been making this BFD out of the mountain for days, as it played hide and seek. Tour guide after tour guide pointed out, “Look, you can see just the peak… just there …to the right …” All I ever saw were clouds.

There was even a Mount McKinley/Denali watch, where you could instruct the front desk to call you if the fickle mountain showed itself. So as I turned back, it was with great sangfroid. Then, peeking out of the clouds – wait, those aren’t clouds. For a week, I had gotten used to the mountain line being fairly stable, like the horizon. Denali was like the giant grandpa looming over the rest, shrinking them to the treeline. Now I see what the fuss is about!

A sun dog

Once again, the food on the train was delicious, with the exception of the ribs. I don’t recommend them. This is a very nice fish chowder.

After a week of breathtaking coastline and a second week of trees, trees, trees, it was a bit of a culture shock to arrive in Anchorage with its square geometry and block-like buildings. I can see why some people “go bamboo” and head back to the wilderness, never to return to city life.

I walked over to Glacier Brewhouse for a light dinner before turning in at the very strange Captain Kidd Hotel. Or was it Captain Hook? Captain Morgan?

From Glacier Brewhouse’s website:

C A S K C O N D I T I O N E D A L E S *
Our cask conditioned ales undergo a secondary fermentation in the cask which creates a natural creamy carbonation. Additional hops are added directly into the cask to provide intense floral, citrus, and fruity aromas and flavors. Served from our beer engine at a traditional cask temperature of 52 F. We aim to always have a cask beer available. Frequently appearing styles on our beer engines are Amber, IPA, Stout, and other seasonal ales. Occasionally, we even run an oak aged ale on cask

Along with an order of delicious fish and chips *where are the chips??? Never mind, the fish was lovely), I enjoyed another Ice Axe, in one of only 2 restaurants that serve it (the other being at the base of Denali). They serve it in a snifter here since it has such a high alcohol content.

IMPERIAL BLONDE, aka ICE AXE ALE *
High alcohol, slightly malty, creamy, and smooth drinking. Technically dubbed the Imperial Blonde by the brewers, this light colored honey ale is also known as Ice Axe Ale. Make sure you are roped in for this one. Served in a snifter. 9.0% alcohol by volume.

I will end this long series of posts as our naturalist on the cruise did so poetically, if a bit melodramatically

…and these…are the echoes…of Alaska

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Day 12 Denali Alaska The goddess of the log

Posted on August 26, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

The next day I took the shuttle into Talkeetna, the base for climbers up Mount McKinley (Denali). It is a laid-back town full of artists and outdoors types. It is the place I felt most at home in Alaska. This town was also the inspiration for the TV show Northern Exposure, although it wasn’t shot there.

I ate breakfast/lunch at Mountain High Pizza Pie, which was to become my home away from home. Very cool, friendly vibe, lots of beer on tap, and some of the best food I ate this entire trip. Definitely a true Roadfood establishment.

One of their signature dishes is the Italian flatbread sandwich, which is made from their own dough and unlike anything I have ever tried before. This one is stuffed with delicious reindeer sausage.

They have loads of interesting pizza toppings, and you can make your own slice (which is so big it is really two slices). I went for Italian sausage, banana peppers and mushrooms. Swoon.

I wandered down to the river and happened upon a fallen log that fascinated me. A couple of girls were posing on it, and we started trading cameras, trying to come up with the best poses.

Of course, men just naturally know how to pose like they’re on the cover of GQ

I found a .45 jacket and one of the campers said they thought they had heard firecrackers on the beach the night before, but apparently it was gunshots. I didn’t see any aluminum cans or broken bottles. What the hell were they shooting at? Salmon? (Because if I were really drunk, the salmon were jumping, and I had a .45 in my hand – well, the thought might cross my mind). But it was dark at the time, and salmon were no longer jumping. Someone offered helpfully, “Moose? It is moose season.” Who the hell shoots moose with a .45? It’s a mystery.

For dinner I met up with my travel partners at West Rib.

Glacier Brewing Company makes a special high-test brew especially for West Rib called Ice Axe Ale.

You can also order “fat ass sauce” for your burgers – a combination of sour cream, bacon and jalapenos. I’m not sure it was the perfect topping for burgers, but may strongly influence my dip-making this coming holiday season.

Ralph got a surf and turf and immediately fell in love with the strong spices on the crab. The caribou was OK, but none of us will be rushing off to buy sides of caribou anytime soon.

I wandered around town taking pictures of giant flowers, then met up with my friends from the beach for beers at Mountain High.

There was a spectacular rainstorm, like nature showing off. It reminded me of the end of The Tiki Room when our sounds of merriment have angered the gods. After about 15 minutes, it calmed down and the sun came back out. It’s confusing in Alaska because the sun is still up, and you want to hang out and party, but things still close down just like everywhere else.

The last shuttle back to the lodge was leaving town at 9:30pm and I had to be on it. I called the lodge to see if there was an alternative, and the desk clerk told me that the driver had my name and would not leave without me. There was no way I could just stay in town and get drunk. Costco holidays are great people to entrust your senile aunt to, because you can’t even get into trouble when you are genuinely trying.

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Day 11 On the Road to Talkeetna

Posted on August 26, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

Day 11 we woke up in Denali State Park, and Ralph and Mary Anne set off on their white water rafting adventure. It was tempting, but I didn’t want to be a 3rd wheel and I think I prefer warmer waters – like the Colorado River. We met for breakfast (mine)/lunch (theirs) at the Salmon Bake since it had proved so successful the day before. If I stayed there for a week, I would probably still hang at the Salmon Bake every day.

I had reindeer or buffalo chili for breakfast – I had gotten to the point where it didn’t really matter what creature I was eating. I mean, as long as it wasn’t human. You never know with these mountain climber types.

I sampled my mom’s fish and chips, which were totally killer.

But the pride of Salmon Bake may be their fruit pies. Sadly, they don’t have ice cream. but pie this good has the confidence to stand alone. Ralph and Mary Anne split mixed berry.

Mom and I went for blueberry. Niced thick crust without being heavy, just slightly sweet, surrounding super-ripe and sweet blueberries.

I had tried to avoid the nightmare “Watney’s Red Barrel” coach trip, but soon we were lined up for the bus to take us on to the next lodge, outside of Talkeetna. The aisles were narrow, and everyone was pushing and shoving. I was trying to fit my bag under the seat, and it wouldn’t fit. The crowd couldn’t tolerate the delay and started pushing my mother. In response, my mother leaned over me, spilling the bottle of water she was holding all over me as she urged me to hurry and stow the bag. But the bag was just too big. I finally snapped and wailed, “Mom, I CAN’T do it.” I didn’t just mean the bag.

Just then Michael, the hippie, was passing by and said, “You CAN do it.” At that moment, the bag slipped under the seat, I fell into my seat, my mom plopped down next to me and the crisis was averted. Way to give a hand up to a fellow traveler. He clearly heeded the word of Glen Campbell:

If you see your brother standing by the road
With a heavy load from the seeds he’s sowed
And if you see your sister falling by the way
Just stop and say you’re going the wrong way

The driver tried giving a safety demonstration, but I was thinking,
“Just accept the fact that if there is an accident we are all going to die in a fiery inferno. Because how can you expect this group to wait and co-operate enough to pull the lever and push to the side when they are climbing over each other and stepping on each other’s necks just boarding the damn bus.”

My personal hell

Again, beautiful scenery. There were also bears in the road.

This is an igloo-shaped hotel that never quite took off.

This lodge was much more rustic, kind of like summer camp. I just wish they had archery lessons.

What can you do to make a pelt look even creepier? How about sewing it onto a felt-cut-out that makes it look like it’s lying in a pool of its own blood?

“Hey Bob, do you think there are any bears in this cave?”
“Well, I don’t know, Bill, let’s take a look…”

Once again we had a coupon for the lodge’s restaurant. A pod member took me aside and pointed out the double-stroller. She asked, “Were you on the Denali Park Tour? Oh my God, those kids just did not stop! When I see that double stroller, it’s like…it’s like…” she searched for the words.

“Like a harbinger of doom?” I offered helpfully.

“Exactly.” I started my meal with goat cheese and crostini.

I had a nice salad to stave off scurvy. Mmmm, candied walnuts. Scurvilicious.

Surprise! We had gigantic crab legs again. They weren’t as good as the ones at the other resort. They were a little drier, and pulling away from the shell.

I kind of never want to see king crab legs ever again. Everyone loved the blueberry ice cream.

My chocolate mousse, made with ale, was actually pretty darn good.

Then we all snuggled up into our little beds for the night. The end.

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Alaska Day 10: Puppies!

Posted on August 24, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

Today everyone got up at 6am to take an 8-hour bus tour around Denali national park. The pod seemed put out that I chose not to join them. But in the last week I have seen beautiful sights from an airplane, from two trains, from a ship, and a boat, I have seen beautiful sights from a helicopter and a dogsled. How many beautiful sights can you see before you poke your own eyes out?

I slept late and hung out in the jacuzzi. I had a slice of pizza for breakfast. I saw our waiter from the night before and he was as gentlemanly and friendly as could be. He said we were his favorite table. I realized at that point who he reminded me of – Floyd the Barber from the Andy Griffith Show. A few members of our pod reproached me for missing the bus tour. Here are a few photos my mom took of what I missed…

Later in the lodge area, one woman confided to me, “Oh my God, the children are in the restaurant and we just made reservations! were you on the bus? It was a nightmare!”

We needed to escape the drama. Luckily I had found a bar the night before called the Salmon Bake that looked very promising. I had wandered in the night before looking for a bar. It turned out to be the spot where the hotel and restaurant workers all go to blow off steam. When I walked in, it was like Robert Service meets Spring Break. The place had been converted into a temporary gambling hall, and there was a big gang of girls wearing drawn-on Pancho Villa moustaches. It was not the kind of place you walk into taking pictures.

Now the party was just another tourist restaurant, although I recognized some of my fellow partiers amongst the waiters and cooks. They may party hard at night, but they work just as hard all day. Open since 1984, the “Bake” also offers cabins.

They had dozens of beers on tap, including my favorite, Kilt Lifter. This is the ale that converted me from a fan of ambers to reds.

Ralph and Mary Ann both went for “flights” (or samplers) from Midnight Sun Brewing Co.

The chowder was made with real cream and fresh salmon.

Fantastic fish and chips. this place was a total find.

Buffalo burgers to die for

and a very tempting dessert tray

That night we visited a dog breeding and training camp for award-winning Iditarod racer Jeff King. Jeff King was unavailable at the time. We learned all kinds of interesting facts and listened to all kinds of fascinating stories. But all I could think about was…

Puppies!!!

Sunset in Denali State Park

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Alaska Day 9: I Hear the Train a’comin

Posted on August 23, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

Today we disembarked and began the second leg of our trip: the land portion. I LOVE traveling; I will pretty much go on any trip without asking too many questions. I wanted to leave a little mystery to this journey, so I did not research this part at all.

The day began with a very early train ride. A train ride that lasted for over ten hours. Ten hours of an informative but annoying “tour guide” blathering loudly over the speakers, keeping everyone from sleeping, concentrating on their books or chatting with their friends.

Everyone had become so accustomed to the constant beauty they didn’t even bother looking out the window anymore.


There was some kind of accident on the road that delayed the train, and then, I swear to God, there was an earthquake. While we were pulled over for one of the many bridge safety checks, there was much to-do and it turned out the train had left the conductor behind. It was that kind of day.

There were kids on the train that seemed to be irritating some of the other passengers. I noticed familiar faces on the train and realized that we had been put in a permanent group, or pod for the remainder of the trip. These people were to form cliques and turn on other groups. It was a strange study in group dynamics.

But the scenery was GORGEOUS. How many different ways can I say that? Where the hell is my thesaurus?

On the good side, the view from the train was SPECTACULAR. We even saw beluga whales. That’s right, those bitchin white whales like at Sea World. In the wild. Unfortunately, the photos came out as tiny white spots. Like photos of UFOs or Bigfoot.

I had a DaDa moment here

I spent most of the trip in the less-scenic but relatively private lower level.

At one point the ever-present narration said, “You will notice the multiple beaver dams in this area.” This guy looked out the window and said, “Yeah, it’s like total beaver city out there!” I said, “I have to ask – are you hippies or did you take a lot of acid? Or both?” He and his girlfriend giggled, “We’re that age!”

These are my hippie pals, Michael and Mary.

Another excellent part of the day was the food. The food on the train was killer – I wish the food on the cruise had been as good. I started the day with a croissant filled with a vegetable frittata, FRESH reindeer sausage and cheese. Reindeer’s gaminess is balanced out by suffucient fat and spice.

For lunch I had a bowl of reindeer chili – also killer.

Later, when we were still on the endless train ride of never-ending glory and nature’s majesty, I had a King crab cake slider on a focaccia with red-pepper coulis. I still prefer blue crab, but it was interesting.

The train ride was long, but there were a number of diversions. First cookies were passed by Alex, who was so cute and charming he gave my mom the giggles.

There was even a lecture by an Iditarod racer

It seems our luggage was not traveling by train with us, but by bus along the George Parks Highway. as we received these letters in our lodge:

“A tractor-trailer carrying liquified natural gas overturned on the George Parks Highway. Currently the highway is closed to traffic from mile 171 to mile 184 due to potential of explosion from leaking gas vapors.”

It’s been a strange day.

Tonight, due to the luggage fiasco. we feasted on a comped 300-dollar dinner at Denali Princess Wilderness Lodge, and the meal was unreal, even though we were all the walking dead by that point. The restaurant was on three levels, to take advantage of the view. A child on the level above us started rocking a large iron floor lamp, until finally it began falling, straight down towards my mother. A quick-thinking waiter grabbed the lamp in the nick of time, and the child’s mother pulled her little boy away with a lighthearted “boys will be boys expression”.

After a little discussion, we realized the little boy was the same kid on the train – and the same kid who tripped the waiter on the cruise. He was like the bad seed!

My mom said the waiter was making her a little uncomfortable. When he handed me my drink he did so from behind, leaning down across me. I said, “I see what you mean.” He asked me about my perfume.

As we looked over the menu, Ralph pointed out, “Look. He’s inappropriately touching someone else now. He’s cheating on us with another table.”

When Space Invader Waiter returned to take out order he stood with both hands on the back of my chair, leaning over me. So I did what anyone would do when their space is invaded – I decided to see how far I could invade back. So as he took our orders, I leaned my head back until it was touching his stomache.

The crab cakes were made with King Crab. They were lovely.

My crab dip was unbelievable – heavy cream and super-fresh crab. I also was served around 7 pieces of toasted bread.

Later, when he came over to check on us, Space Invader Waiter stood next to my chair with his right arm resting on the back of my chair. So I leaned over and lightly rested my head against his hip. He didn’t even flinch.

Then I saw him pulling the arm-around the-chair move on a little old man. What is up? He moved before I could snap a picture of that touching scene.

He brought us the biggest crab legs you have ever seen in your entire life and said, “Sorry if they’re not long enough.” Hmmm. I said, “That’s OK. Size doesn’t matter.” He set down my T-bone and said, “And there’s your steak – nice and thick.” Seriously. I was dying.

The crab was sweet and succulent, and I won the contest for the longest crab leg. I was messing around with the camera and Space Invader offered to take my picture. He said, “Are you turned on?” What??? Oh, the camera. I said, “No, “I’m not turned on. To turn me one you have to press right there. No there.” I looked at him for even a glimmer of flirtation and he looked back as innocent as a little kid. Was he really not doing this on purpose? Everyone else at the table was torn between laughing and being completely horrified.

When my mom needed more water, I inappropriately touched the waiter’s belly instead of his elbow as he passed, and he just leaned right into my chair again. No personal boundaries whatsoever. I thought dessert would be the final blow to see if he was messing with us, doing some bizarre waiter trick for tips, or really had no idea that he was all over his patrons. Asking me, “Are you turned on?” Seriously.

But come dessert, the rest of my group left me to order our treats to go. There was no more double-entendre, and he suddenly changed into super-serious waiter. I pushed it when we left by slapping him on the shoulder and turning it into a half-hug. He stiffened up uncomfortably, so I did the straight-guy pat on the back and left with the biggest doggie bag you have ever seen in your whole life.

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Alaska Day 8 Sunday: Fjord, Shmord

Posted on August 21, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

Sunday we cruised through the fjords. Everything was gorgeous. It almost got to be too much. How much beauty can you really take? How much stunning but endless (and deadly) ice can you stare at, day, after day? How long does it take for Alaskan fishermen to just start attacking each other with grappling hooks?

On deck, they were serving reindeer chili. There had been rumors of a chili cook-off, and I was a little disappointed I didn’t get to compete. Their chili was OK, but I would have totally kicked ass in a cook-off. You know you’re on vacation when you have beer for breakfast.

I wandered into the buffet for dessert and found this unusual delicacy

I thought it was like a cross between fruitcake and an English pudding, but Mary Anne may have been more accurate when she dubbed it “Meatloaf cake”. Of course there were more creepy fruit carvings.

There was more sugar-free cake, this time with a label calling it marscapone cream, and I felt validated that my first guess had been correct.

Then on to more fjord watching

I had discovered a few days before that the ship offered afternoon tea in the Bordeaux restaurant. It was run with precision, exactly as the dinner service should have been. Staff was plentiful, service was attentive, and division of duties clear. Our tea was hot and quickly refilled.

I apologize for photo quality. I forgot my camera, and the only one available was a disposable underwater camera.

The sandwiches were cucumber, tuna salad, chicken salad, and pate. I wanted to like the pate, it was piped so prettily on the single slice of bread, but alas – too liverwurst-y. The genteel ladies with whom we were seated seemed to enjoy it. Although I have heard that your taste buds erode as you age.

There was a lovely selection of miniature pastries and cookies. I wish the other chefs had half the chops of the ship’s bakers.

I tried to get reservations for dinner at the ($20) Italian restaurant, but it was booked up. I took my travelmates to the ($15) Cajun restaurant to celebrate our last night at sea.

The steak was tender, and the catfish was crispy, without fishiness or grease. Maybe not up to New Orleans, but as good of Cajun food as you can get outside of Louisiana. The gumbo was more like a seafood celebration than a soup/stew. The shrimp were good, but I still would recommend the catfish.

My mom’s lobster tail was ginormous. There was an extra fee, maybe 5 more dollars. A 20-dollar lobster tail still ain’t bad.

The sides were hit-and-miss. The jambalaya was not very good – practically Zatarains. But the succotash was so creamy, rich and delicious I would have liked a bigger serving. Everything else on the mixed side plate was average and unimpressive.

Of the desserts, I remember the bread pudding fondly. But I have no memory of this dessert at all, which is unusual. Not a clue.

I wish they would have made the effort to have themed drinks – at least hurricanes and Abita Beer. I asked the musicians to play something from New Orleans and they declined, explaining, “We’re a jazz band.” Yeah, because New Orleans has nothing to do with Jazz.

As we ate, another table let two small children run wild all over the restaurant. It was beyond “let kids be kids” – it was dangerous. At one point the 2-or3-year old ran right under the feet of a waiter rushing out of the kitchen with a large tray of hot dishes. Only Broadway-quality tap dancing by the waiter kept that kid from being scalded by hot soup – and the waiter out of traction.

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Alaska Day 7 Saturday: Glacier Bay

Posted on August 20, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

As with the other “days a sea” I had pre-booked a spa treatment – bad move. As we cruised through majestic glaciers, the naturalist’s voice boomed out over the loudspeaker, “…and there’s another whale!” I perked up from the massage table as the masseuse tried to relax me, “Don’t worry. You’ll be seeing LOTS of whales.” Even the day’s “Princess Patter” newsletter recommends that you don’t schedule any activities (people couldn’t resist making Princess Patter jokes all week).

To celebrate the cruise through Glacier Bay, the ship set up a “Taste of Alaska” buffet.

Ice sculptures to celebrate the – ice

There were your usual shrimp and lox. The only real “Alaska” specialties were salmon and a venison pate. After our previous experience with venison, I wasn’t going to even touch that. The deviled eggs were fantastic, made with the same combination of cream and marscapone used in the pastries.

I did become obsessed with the fruit carvings. They were cheerfully creepy.

This one scared me in a visceral JRR Tolkienesque way

Really, did they have to put glass eyes in them?

Too bad that class on fruit carving was so early in the morning. I will admit to flaking on every single class, activity, lecture, show and program offered. So maybe I missed a lot of the cruise experience. I just wanted to read and get spa treatments. The view from the balcony turned out to be so spectacular that on most days we just stared out at the scenery. Oh, and I took a lot of pictures of scenery – and food.

As I was staring out at the fantastic views of Glacier Bay, the booming voice shouted out, “We have orcas! You have no idea how special this is, folks. In 20 trips, we are lucky if we see orcas even once!” And lucky for me, the orcas were on our side of the ship. An orca sighting was one of my main hopes for this trip, so I was very excited and satisfied.

There was even wildlife on shore

Wildlife everywhere!

Mary Ann noticed the similarity between the local native arts and the faces you could see in the abstract forms of the ice and rocks. At first I thought maybe the buffet had out the wrong kind of mushrooms in the pasta, but then I started to see them too.

Really, I would suggest trying to get a room on the starboard side of the ship when heading north, and port south (The opposite of the old European cruises – Port Out, Starboard Home = POSH). In Glacier Bay, the ship does turn around a lot to afford everyone as much of a view as possible, but for the rest of the trip, starboard was definitely the best side.

We saw minor “calving” but no gigantic icebergs. The blue ice was stunning.

That night was another formal night, but I decided to have a slice of white pizza and spent the evening on the internet (These blogs don’t write themselves).

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Alaska Day 6 Friday: Skagway – Back on the Train Gang

Posted on August 19, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

Day six we disembarked in Skagway, a town founded by prospectors, conmen and prostitutes.

The main attraction these days is the White Point Railway. whose “golden spike” was hammered in 1900. At one point it helped prospectors carry supplies into the Klondike. These days it runs a 3-hour round-trip for tourists through breathtaking scenery.

A giant rock fell on some of the men laying the original train tracks. The rock was too big too move, so they announced there could be no more grand memorial and it is maintained to this day,

Near the top of the mountain, it started to look like a quarry. But even that was beautiful.

The Canadian border. The end of the line for us.

Even on a cruise I somehow manage to happen upon a cemetary.

Did anybody else see Emperor of the North?

It was late in the season for salmon fishing. Once they’re already dying, they get “mushy”. It didn’t prevent a lot of people from taking advantage of the easy picking. My mom warned me not to look at the gory sight of them stabbing this fish in the head, but she forgets I’m not a squeamish 12-year old anymore.

This tourist touring car almost ran me over as I crossed the street. The first thing that ran through my mind was, “Dear Lord, please do not let me get killed by such an embarassing-looking vehicle.”

My mom chose our lunch spot, The Red Onion Saloon.

When I sat down I realized we were in a small local museum – the local prostitute museum. All of the servers wore corsets and the walls were covered with vintage nude photos. Talk about your theme restaurants! I was kind of tired from the previous day’s mushing, so I didn’t really linger over my chili. The whore chili, I mean. In the whore restaurant. With my mom. Who was having whore chowder.

The microbrew was excellent, and the whore chili was OK.

That night my mom and I gave the ship’s “fancy restaurant”, the Bordeaux, one last try. The night before I had a completely unremarkable meal of burnt escargot and bland pasta. The waitress had been unable to open a bottle of champagne and no one appeared to help her. I even begged her to let me open the bottle.

Thursday’s boring pasta

I would not have even returned the second night, but they were keeping that champagne chilled for me. Plus it was “Octoberfest” night at the buffet and that outright scared me. I had doubts the champagne could retain its effervescence overnight, but I had REALLY wanted champagne.

OK, so flash-forward to night two at the Burgundy restaurant, surrounded by men in tuxes who searched for about 20 minutes before they could find my champagne. Damn if it didn’t stay fizzy. I kept the rubber cork and brought it home in my suitcase for my next bottle.

This is a close-up of those twinkly lights. My mom leaned over during her entree and confided, “If I had these lights in my house, I would shoot them all out with a shotgun.” She probably would, too.

The goat cheese croquettes were nice. The filo triangle was mysteriously empty of any filling.

We gave in to the locale and I ordered King Crab legs. They were pretty good. Better than Outback.

But my mom’s venison was unbelievably bad. Like shocking. Wow. There was some unidentifiable timbale of muck alongside. I asked what the muck was, and the non-native English speaker said, “The emm, the nuts.” I asked, “The deer’s nuts?” with an innocent expression, and he said, “Yes, the deer’s nuts”. Simultaneously, my mom shouted my name with that special timbre she only uses when she thinks I am being recreationally cruel. We figured out it was a chestnut puree. And wow. It was dried-out, bland, and with a texture I hope to never experience again in this lifetime. In fact, if I am reincarnated, I hope to not experience it in that lifetime either.

The black forest cake was seriously killer. The buffet and dining room may have been C-plus, but the bakery was getting straight A’s.

Probaby the best thing we ate all day was my mom’s toffee ice cream. mmmmm.

That night I hit the casino. First of all, drinks were not free, a shocker. I was doing alright at Blackjack. But I was asked politely not to curse. I said, “I didn’t realize children were allowed in the casino.” Any place that’s going to rob me of my money and not even let me yell, “Jesus f-ing Christ!” while they do it doesn’t need my money.

So once again I spent the evening in the library listening to Allegro non Troppo and Music of the Night drift up from the piano bar. Ray Coussins announced that the following night they would be playing “Name that Tune.” I took another sip of my mojito and thought, “Well, that ought to be easy.”

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Day 5 Thursday: Whale of a Tale

Posted on August 18, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

After dogsledding, my mom and I went to Twisted Fish for lunch. It was a water’s edge tourist trap, but they served up some of the freshest and best fish dishes I have ever tried. The salmon was cooked in coconut, like the usual treatment shrimp get on appetizer menus, and it really worked. The battered rockfish was amazing. It put halibut and cod to shame.

But what the hell was a crab tail? I have seen crabs and they definitely don’t have tails. Was it like the pope’s nose of the sea? It turned out to be the “apron” of the king crab. If you were comparing it to say, chicken, the difference would be that king crab legs are white meat and the apron is dark meat. I wouldn’t order them again, but now we know, right?

Hi, total freak taking pictures of the food. Ummm, that doesn’t show on my face, does it?

We checked out the salmon smokers, who were running the smokers the way my Uncle Pat does it…in other words, the right way.

This is a mine shaft where something worthy of a plaque happened, but I was too rushed to get a chance to read it.

The only way to follow up a day of dogsledding was with an evening of humpback whale-watching.

We came upon a group of humpbacks that were bubble netting.

Its most inventive technique is known as bubble net feeding: a group of whales blows bubbles while swimming in circles to create a ring of bubbles. The ring encircles the fish, which are confined in an ever-tighter area as the whales swim in a smaller and smaller circles. The whales then suddenly swim upward through the bubble net, mouths agape, swallowing thousands of fish in one gulp. This technique can involve a ring of bubbles up to 30 m (100 ft) in diameter and the cooperation of a dozen animals. Some of the whales take the task of blowing the bubbles through their blowholes, some dive deeper to drive fish toward the surface, and others herd fish into the net by vocalizing -wiki

I was on my own, but I kind of like being alone, and I really like sitting on the back of a boat alone just staring at the water.

Everything is beautiful. Everywhere.

This is a whale baleen. They don’t look like scrub brushes like I always imagined they would.

Baleen or whalebone is the means by which baleen whales feed. These whales do not have teeth, but instead have rows of baleen plates in the upper jaw – flat, flexible plates with frayed edges, arranged in two parallel rows, looking like combs of thick hair. Baleen is not bone, but is composed of keratin, the same substance as hair, horn, claws and nails. Whales use these combs for filter feeding. Whales are the only vertebrate group to use this method of feeding in great abundance (flamingos and crabeater seals use similar methods, but do not have baleen), and it has allowed them to grow to immense sizes. The blue whale, the largest animal ever to have lived, is a baleen whale. – wiki

After a few passes at the whales, we went and stared at the sea lions.

And stared at the sea lions.

And stared at the sea lions.

Someone mentioned the recent video that had shocked everyone by showing two orcas playing catch with a sea lion. Maybe I’m going to hell for this, but at that moment I thought, “I would pay like a million dollars for that to happen right now.”

There are time limits to paparazziing sea life, so we started motoring back to shore. Everyone went back inside to have a snack and warm up.

When we scattered my dad’s ashes at sea six years ago, I had been thinking how perfect it would be to see a whale, and right then a blue whale had breached. I was sitting outside all alone after we had left the whales and the seals, just staring at the sea when I remembered that whale. I silently thought to myself, “Come on dad, just give me one more whale. Just for me.” And this guy swam up.

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Day 5 Thursday: MUSH!!!

Posted on August 17, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

Thursday was super adventure day – probably the most exciting and spectacular thing I have ever done. We took a helicopter up to a glacier to go dogsledding. There is not enought snow at this time of year to go “mushing” at lower altitudes, but I’m so grateful for that; the Mendenhall glacier was unbelievably beautiful.

One of the guides said it was his seventh season up there and I just thought, “You are out of your mind.”

But that was before I drove the sled. There are just no words to describe it. It was the adventure of a lifetime. I could move there right now and start training for the Iditarod.

Prepare yourself for some serious cuteness.

My mom was sitting in the front sled with our musher, and I was on a sled towed behind. So I still had to brake and steer and everything, but she was in charge of the dogs. It was a lot like skateboarding. The ice was hard, so we went really fast.

Climb in! You can totally trust me.

I taught our musher the 1950s waterskiing extravaganza pose.

Can’t…stop…taking…pictures…of…dogs…

If you are ever in Juneau, you have to do this. It is worth any price.

Glacier Dogsledding http://www.akdogtour.com/

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Day 4 Wednesday: Thar she blows!

Posted on August 16, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

We had to rush back to the ship, where I hit the spa again for a facial. Up on deck, the omnipresent naturalist was conducting a whale-watch. This event mostly consisted of people asking each other, “Where? Over there?”
“At 3 o’clock”
“But how far away from us?”
“OK, you see the light on shore? Go to the right, then down a little.”
“Oh, there!”
Sometimes it was impossible to distinguish a rock jutting out of the choppy seas from any form of sea life. Is it a rock or a fin?

But then, thar she blows!

Later that night everyone wanted to eat at the buffet for dinner, but I’d had just about enough of the buffet. I decided to go to the 15-dollar Cajun restaurant. I needed catfish. It was time. I can only go for so long.

My friendly server brought me an appetizer selection. Alligator ribs suck; there is no way to make them good. They are purely for novelty. The shrimp were the usual, their oyster bienville was the only oyster I have ever liked in my entire life. Their take on grits and grillades, replacing the grillade with andouille was interesting. The french fries had a light dusting of spice that tasted exactly like Zapp’s Crawtaters, so I was happy.

Then he brought me a seafood bisque that was dark and earthy, the broth deeply infused with long-simmered crustacean shells.

Then he brought me my catfish.

Then he brought me everything else on the menu. Everything.

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Day 4: Wednesday – Land Ho!!! (Ho) Ketchikan

Posted on August 16, 2008 by Kiki Maraschino

Wednesday was our first day disembarking. We hit Ketchikan, where we hadn’t booked any “adventures,” which was lucky, because it was raining cats and dogs.

Since the Ketchikan brewery we had hoped to visit had shut down years before, we went to check out the microbrews over at Steamers. It looked like they had a flight from the Alaska Steamship Company, but when I asked the waiter about it said no. So I was understandably confused when they brought Ralph a flight along with my Moose Drool (the more horrible something sounds, the harder it is for me to resist).

I went ahead and got a “flight”, called a “sampler” by the less pretentious Alaskans. The hefeweizen really tasted of bananas. The IPA was good, but as usual, the amber was my favorite. The scallops appetizer we got totally kicked ass – fresh scallops wrapped in bacon bathed in hollandaise…sorry arteries, I owe you this one for the tournadoes.

We did a little tourist shopping.

Aren’t half of these items illegal?

I was summoned back into the fold before I could get a fortune from Pappy

We found a cool store called House of Haida run by local artisans.

Unfortunately, this bag I am in love with costs 7,000 dollars, yep, 7k. Why? Because it takes an entire year to make one.

Locals refused to sell their houses to make way for the road, so this tunnel was dug beneath the houses in 1954

THE place to get burgers in Ketchikan is Burger Queen. Burger King has tried to move into town a number of times and the locals wont have it.

Why is it called Burger Queen?

They offer an impressive array of freshly made shakes, but sadly no salmonberry. The boys showed me the bushes up on the side of the hill and it was clear why they were not picking salmonberries that day.

Burger Queen prints up a little newsletter to give you something to read while you wait. In a counterintuitive move, there is a section titled “Insect Facts”

Since there were no salmonberries that day, they made me up a special banana-raspberry shake, and along with the best burger EVER – seriously. Sorry Elbow Room, sorry Steves and Ricks and whomevers, but wow. Killer burger.

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