On the Road.

Lafayette Tap Room - JW Jones

Traveller — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 15:15:42 GMT

"Stop it, you're giving me the blues." I don't remember the story that goes with that Dick Shawn punch line but I do know even if you're not a devotee of the blues (which I am not) visiting the Lafayette Tap Room in Buffalo, New York is a fun way to wind up a Saturday night.

I actually found the Lafayette Tap Room because I was looking for sweet potato pie. Mmmm, pie. When it turned out to have not just pie but blues (which my Buffalo guide likes) and was open late enough to fit well into our schedule, we decided to take a look. When 11 p.m. Saturday night rolled around we almost blew it off. We were tired, one of us had worn inappropriate shoes and - since the other of us had insisted on a long walk from the delightful and interesting Allen Street to the almost equally delightful and interesting Elmwood - blisters had ensued.  Despite the blisters we decided to stop by, stay for a song or so and return to the hotel.  Two hours and more later as the band packed up their instruments, we were leaving.



                                                      Lafayette Tap Room
                                                   391 Washington Street
                                                  Buffalo, New York 14203

Since one of us was walking impaired we took a cab. From the address and our excursions around the city earlier in the day, there was a little concern about the neighborhood; there needn't have been. The Tap Room is located next to the Lafayette Hotel. The hotel is a residential hotel which for many brings to mind all sorts of seedy characters but a quick inspection proved it to be both well maintained and architecturally interesting. I thought I had pictures of its interior murals but alas, such appears not to be the case.

The Lafayette Tap Room is anything but seedy. When we arrived several motorcycles were parked out front - true to its "Blues, Bikes & BBQ" motto.  JW Jones - the name of the lead guitarist and vocalist but apparently also used to refer to the entirety of whomever is playing with him - was already well into a very loud set when we made our entrance.  The inventory of sweet potato pie had already run out (probably means it was pretty good pie) so I settled for a slice of southern pecan which was good except for the fact that I don't eat pecans. Love that sweet goo underneath though.

Our fifteen minutes and we're out of here game plan soon evaporated in the face of the friendly venue and the great music. The crowd was far too sparse for the quality of the music being played. I don't know if it hadn't been advertised well enough or if there was something else going on in Buffalo that night.  (Buffalo - in addition to being a great place for Frank Lloyd Wright and other architecture - has a lively music, bar and restaurant scene.)  Lack of an audience didn't diminish the energy of the musicians. They gave it their all through two, long lively sets. We purchased a CD and I highly recommend both the music and the venue, particularly for those like me who are kind of "blues-frightened".  I enjoyed every minute of the evening and would go out of my way to see JWJ again and when (not if) I'm in downtown Buffalo again late some weekend night I'll be back at the Tap Room in search of sweet potato pie. Mmmmm, pie.

Stonehenge, no, really, there it is over there...

Traveller — Sun, 22 Jun 2008 20:00:24 GMT

I love England but I don't drive while I'm there and don't think I ever would. No matter what my British acquaintances say, their traffic signs make no sense and the roads are all bendy and narrow which makes for great passenger side travelling (if you're with a good driver) but doesn't appeal to me all as a skill to learn while on holiday. Thus, when I visited Stonehenge I was the navigator and the designated "Stonehenge lookout" - which led to what will be a lifelong misunderstanding between me and the person who was driving. He thinks I was disappointed with Stonehenge, I wasn't disappointed at all - it is my all time favorite place made out of great big rocks, I just thought one would be able to spot it from the road.

One of the things I most like about travelling in England is the way in which the British approach their historical treasures which is - unsurprisingly - in a most British way and Stonehenge is no exception. If this site were in the United States beginning about 100 miles away from the actual location there would be signs reading, "See Stonehenge." There are - that I saw - no such signs. As a child I lived in Tennessee and let me tell you, if you get anywhere near Rock City (a somewhat tacky but "awe inspiring when you are six" local attraction that has amongst its many "natural" splendors a narrow rock opening called "Fat Man's Squeeze") there will be not just billboards advertising the fact that you are nearing Rock City, there will be barns painted red and black saying "See Rock City", there will be yard placards saying "See Rock City", there will be Burma Shave like crawls of signs saying "See" "Rock" "City", there will be bumper stickers reading "I saw Rock City." To be honest I'm not sure it exists anymore but I do know at tourist centers along the Tennessee interstate you can still buy red bird houses with "See Rock City" stencilled on their black roofs. So, in my previously mentioned position as "Stonehenge lookout" I expected to see something that gave me some small hint that Stonehenge was somewhere on our horizon - and that is how my friend and I drove past Stonehenge.

The person I was riding with that day is an amazingly good humored chap who rarely gets angry or even outright testy but on this day he went right past annoyed, skittered beyond testy and arrived first stop at angry when he realized that I had not recognized the turnoff to Stonehenge. It probably didn't help that I went the opposite direction of angry and was all but consumed in giggles and insisted upon making remarks like, "Let me see if I can find it in the rear view mirror, after all objects there are larger than they may appear." At first I wasn't even sure if he was going to turn around and go back but he did - although even knowing that we were right on it, finding it wasn't a given. There isn't any neon if you're coming at the place from the opposite direction either, just a discreet little notice amongst the other road markers (oh, alright, there may also be a couple of equally discreet historical signs.) Although I must say, once you find it Stonehenge it is everything one has been led to believe that it will be -




                                                                         Stonehenge

                                                                Wiltshire, United Kingdom
                                                about two miles from Amesbury on the A303
                                                                    let someone else drive

The low key, "don't get too excited, we're British and this isn't football" atmosphere continues once you pull into the parking lot. By parking lot I mean a gravelled yard not a Disneyesque paved lot from which you will catch a tram to buy your ticket. Get out and walk to a set of tables where you will purchase a very reasonably priced entry (about thirteen bucks). From there it's a short walk via tunnel to the other side of the highway. You will emerge on the path that leads you around Stonehenge.



On certain days, like the Summer Solstice - hey, that was today - and by pre-arrangement you may sometimes be allowed to explore inside the rings but not on a general basis. An audio taped tour is available but it's also a lot of fun to get a basic feel for the place and its history just by reading the available pamphlets and walking around on your own. (Plus, with earphones on you can't spend time irritating those around you by saying things like, "How the hell did these things get here?" and "Wouldn't you hate to be the guy who had to tell the workers that all the stones needed to be moved about six inches to the right?") As you can see the day of our visit it was dark and cold (well, maybe you can't see that it was cold but, trust me, it was incredibly cold) which - as always for me - made it easier to imagine in someway the feelings of those to whom this location and these stones were apparently sacred.  Once I had run out of jokes about "this is probably just where they got tired" and allowed myself to stand back and look at it, Stonehenge moved me in a sort of pagan, mythical, Joseph Campbell way.

Almost as amazing as Stonehenge itself is the fact that until the 1980s the site was pretty much open to anyone to do just about anything. As a result much of the rockwork disappeared to find its way onto someone's shelf as a souvenir. Can you imagine, "Hey, Harry, what's that rock?" "Oh that, I chipped it off of Stonehenge, thought it would look a lot better on my mantle." Fortunately, it has since come under the perview of the British government and has also been named a World Heritage Site. Once you have completed your circumnavigation of the stones, there is a small gift shop and a cafe for drinks and snacks.

So, that's it: Stonehenge. No mascots, no rides, no ears to bring back but it's a true wonder and a must visit, even if that means you have to turn around and go back to find it.  I would go back tomorrow. I'll never be able to convince my friend but it in no way disappointed me nor will it you.

The Pub, Rocky River, Ohio - A new favorite place

Traveller — Sun, 15 Jun 2008 16:08:20 GMT

I'm always looking for pubs, restaurants, bars, people's houses - whatever you will - with steel tip darts but my new favorite place for watching football (when you watch soccer in a restaurant with a British flag on the front door, it's football) and playing darts totally snuck up on me. I had asked the concierge at a Cleveland hotel for the best scenic drive to Sandusky and she had guided me toward Rocky River Road. With Friday afternoon traffic to wade through The Pub almost slipped by us. We actually had to circle back and hunt for what we thought we saw but, boy howdy, are we glad we did. Now no matter where I'm travelling in the area, I find a reason to drop by, have an ale and beat my friend in darts.



                                 The back entrance to The Pub in the parking lot to the
                                   left of the bank with which it shares its building -

here's the front entrance you need to watch for when driving down the street.

There is so much to love about The Pub. First, the parent company has done a wonderful job of preserving the facade from the theatre which used to make its home here.



Second, in a time when so many places are taking their steel tip dart boards out, The Pub has taken a chance on having steel tip boards. Not only have they actually put the boards up but they have given them the appropriate amount of room which means losing space for at least two four top tables.

Third, The Pub has somewhat of an authentic British public house feel. It is separated into several "rooms" like you might find in real pub and the pub grub it serves is reasonably in line with what you might find in a pub as well. I haven't made my mind up yet whether outfitting the servers in modified kilts is a good idea but with so much that is just right about this place, the clothing isn't a deal breaker.

Fourth, they serve Lambic Belgian Beer - a deliciously fruity ale - in both apple and raspberry. Funny how much better my dart game becomes as I drain a glass of apple ale.

The two dart boards are found on a patio to the far right side of the restaurant. During the cool months ceiling to floor doors enclose the patio. On our initial visit the weather wasn't quite warm enough to have them open as evening approached nor were they open on our return visit later that same weekend. Business was so slow on both of those visits that I feared the down turn in casual dining might close The Pub down before it had a decent shot at succeeding. Ah, but our third visit not only proved our fears unwarranted, it provided me with one of those evenings that lingers in the memory long after the apple ale buzz has faded.

We and a sky full of black storm clouds blew into Rocky River late on a Sunday afternoon heavy with humidity. The patio doors were open and all the tall tables just beyond the patio roof had their umbrellas up and guests perched on the tables' stools.  Barely beating the rain inside we found ourselves helping the servers to close the umbrellas and save the glasses and cutlery from playing their own game of darts.  Within minutes though the storm had passed, replaced by a cool grey early evening. We settled into a table that gave us both access to a dart board and a view of the "friendly" between the Argentine and United States national football teams. Argentina being the number one ranked team in the world at the moment and the U. S. being the 92nd, we were just hoping for a competitive game, not a drubbing. Well, that evening two underdogs had their days.

We ordered shrimp tempura and stuffed mushroom caps off the appetizer menu (both delicious), an apple ale for me and a good strong beer for my companion. Before long we had settled into alternately playing for the title of World Champion of Steel Tip Darts and watching the game on TV. Two hours later our boys had held the Argentine team to a 0-0 tie and I had emerged - after three hard fought games - the triumphant but gracious World Champion of Steel Tip Darts (not to brag but I did hit a double bull to end the last game, okay maybe to brag just a little).



                                                         Patio of The Pub with its doors open,
                                                   dart boards and TV faintly visible at the back.

Were I a resident of Rocky River or any place within reasonable driving distance of it, I would be back at The Pub on a weekly basis defending my world title.

Shakespeare's Restaurant & Pub

Traveller — Sat, 24 May 2008 14:17:09 GMT

It was easier to spot Shakespeare's Restaurant & Pub on the rural landscape of Ellwood City, Pennsylvania than it was to pick out Stonehenge from the highway on my first visit to England.

"Hmmm" is the first reaction one might have upon discovering the website for Shakespeare's Restaurant and Pub; that "hmmm" turns to "what the.." when discovering it in all its stone encircled glory while driving down a country road in Pennsylvania.



                                                  Shakespeare's Restaurant & Pub

I purposely cropped this picture to show the telephone lines and utility house which give some indication of the area in which the restaurant is located. Further down the road a smaller stone gate with a gorilla statue on either side marks the entrance to the sister golf facility.

According to the locals at a bar in nearby Zelienople the enormous rocks which encompass the grounds were man made at a cost of between three and four million dollars. The restaurant's literature writes of the boulders being quarried from Medusa Aggregates without mentioning either their cost or how many of them are actual rocks; either way the rockworks were for me even more impressive than the castle they "protect".

On the evening we visited Shakespeare's two wedding parties were in the process of arriving for receptions upstairs. I can imagine that the banquet facilities provided a lasting and festive memory for both the newly married couples and their guests. Up close the castle itself is obviously a new building - no, I wasn't expecting an authentic castle in the middle of Pennsylvania - but despite that fact the result of the owner's efforts is no less fun for the visitor.



                                                        Shakespeare's main entrance

The "let's have a good time" feel of Shakespeare's continues with its dark interior complete with suits of armour and cutesy names for the restrooms (Queen's Throne Room and King's Throne Room, I would suggest after those names a little more theatrical flair for the bathrooms themselves, actual - I'm not kidding - thrones for comode seats would have been a kick).  The enormous main bar behind the host's station provides a breathtaking view of the grounds behind the restaurant. Patrons can eat in the bar, although due to the light from the sunset the window shades were drawn shortly after our arrival which understandably but disappointingly eliminated most of the view.

Our reservation had been for seven but we arrived shortly after six and were immediately seated. Within fifteen minutes after our arrival the waiting area was full and remained that way throughout our stay so an early evening meal on the weekends might be the best bet. The service was prompt, efficient and pleasant; the food - particularly my companion's steak - was very good in a 1970s Steak & Ale sort of way. The menu was vast and varied - probably to accomodate the wide range of patrons from small child to senior adults - and most of the items were heavily sauced.  There was a substantial and mostly pleasing selection of wines and beer; on the whole a pleasant meal in interesting surroundings.

When we drove past Shakespeare's Restaurant & Pub, when we entered Shakespeare's Restaurant & Pub both my friend and I had the same question, "Why?"  And I must admit, the queston still lingers: did Richard Hvizdak - owner of the establishment - wake up one night with a start and a half remembered dream that called to him to build a castle in a field in western Pennsylvania? But that seems a rather arrogant and condescending question when one considers that Mr. Hvizdak risked quite a lot - many millions - to see his vision become a reality and he made that investment in a place and time when many people and industries were moving away. Judging by the overflow number of guests Shakespeare's had the night of our visit, folks from miles around find the restaurant to be a great night out for the entire family. I know that it was worth our drive off the beaten path just to see the rocks and have a view of the castle from the road. If we're in the area again, I wouldn't mind spending a half an hour or so at the bar with a beer watching for some knights to arrive back from battle.

The Unexpected: ZINC Brasserie, Sandusky, Ohio

Traveller — Sun, 04 May 2008 18:30:53 GMT

There are - to my knowledge - two restaurants in downtown Sandusky, Ohio that serve dinner (other than the members only Sandusky Yacht Club); that one of the two should be a top notch French restaurant speaks of both the potential Sandusky has and the problems Sandusky faces.



                                                           ZINC Brasserie
                                                    142 Columbus Avenue

Last year, as part of a condominium open house, we took a guided tour of Sandusky. At the time we were told that a French restaurant was slated to open soon on one of Sandusky's main streets. This year we inquired about the restaurant upon checking in to our B&B and were delighted to find that it had opened and seemed to be doing well. Although we had already eaten, we decided to stroll down the street and perhaps have a glass of wine and some dessert.

We had been told that it was just a couple of blocks away on Columbus Avenue - and since sadly there is very little open in downtown Sandusky after dark or anytime for that matter - didn't think we would have any trouble finding it; such was not the case, in fact, we had to cross the street and ask the folks at the State Theatre where it was. To our surprise, we had walked right by it but once we entered the small establishment (about a dozen tables plus bar seating and the next night a couple of outdoor tables) it was quickly apparent that our short search was going to be well rewarded.

We sat at the bar and were waited upon by the house manager, Mike. Mike was friendly, astute and not shy about offering his opinion when we inquired about a dessert wine; although the wine was a little sweet for our tastes, it's nice to find a bar man who knows his stock well enough to make an intelligent suggestion. I would far rather have a difference of opinion about a wine than be left to feel my way through the wine menu or worse to think that the server either didn't know his wine or didn't care to take the time to make a recommendation. I also had to have some chocolate and even my "not too big on dessert" friend was pulled in once my mousse arrived.

We knew we wanted to come back the following night and (since we really wanted ZINC to be doing well) were pleased to find out that a Saturday booking definitely required a reservation. Carlos, the restaurant's chef, came out from the back and called his wife who handles the bookings to ensure that we would have a table. It was a good thing we had thought to ask because on Saturday night every table was full and people were eating at the bar when we arrived; since we were a few minutes early, we too took spots at the bar where we ordered a shared glass of chardonnay.

On the dot at 7:30 we were guided to our table by our server, Jerry. I firmly believe that the tone of a restaurant - any business for that matter - comes from the top down and Jerry certainly reinforced that view. Like Carlos and Mike, he was friendly, knew the menu and the specials well and - most important of all - he was obviously proud of ZINC and the fare it served. I had the lobster bisque en croute (lobster bisque is always on the menu, it being en croute was a special that evening) followed by a salad with the unusual combination of blood oranges and ruby red beets. My friend had a bowl full - let me reiterate full - of mussels and chose halibut cheeks for his main course.

While we were waiting, plate after plate passed by with a bowl topped by an extraordinary puff pastry. Just as I was about to ask Jerry what that was and could I get one, my lobster bisque arrived; much to my delight, it turned out that the puff pastry was the "en croute".

                                                      lobster bisque en croute
                                         the picture is a little dark (hell, a lot dark)
              but you can tell how much I enjoyed the bisque by the fact that
               this picture is about the same size as the picture of ZINC itself

The pastry was amazing: light, flaky and - as my friend took great delight in pointing out to one who has to have skim milk and "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter" (can anyone tell me what it is since it has no calories and no nutritional value whatsoever?) - was most assuredly made out of whole milk and lots and lots of real butter. Had the bisque beneath it been just average, I still would have been quite happy. The lobster bisque, however, equaled its cover in every way: thick, creamy, (again full of whole milk and butter) with generous bites of lobster. Not being a mussel eater, I was assured by my companion that his first course was as tasty and satisfying as mine.

Our next plates, although not extraordinary like the lobster bisque and the mussels, were delicious, well served and paired with more wine from ZINC's healthy list. We ended the evening with a very tasty apple crumble and were surprised to find the bill to be only a tad over $100 including the gratuity.  Were I an Ohio resident, ZINC would be a monthly treat. I fervently hope it (and the lobster bisque en croute) are there when I most likely return to Sandusky next year.

Therein lies the question mark: will ZINC with its talented chef, excellent food, intimate ambience and knowledgeable staff survive another year?

Sandusky - like so many small downtowns - has so much to offer.  A couple of businesses have found ways to exploit themselves. The weekend we were there the State Theatre had a sell out on Friday and a near sell out on Saturday. Daly's and another bar down Columbus Avenue were hopping both nights as well. Down the block and around the corner a young entrepeneur runs The Hero Zone, hands down the best comic and games store I have ever been in (we went there and found cheap, exceedingly fast internet access). The Merry-Go-Round Museum is a perfect marriage of building and theme but, since last we were there, little if anything else has found its way to Sandusky. Are these businesses the building blocks upon which a Sandusky downtown revival will be built - or are they just specific destinations which are building their own clienteles but don't imply future growth?

Block after block of downtown Sandusky is boarded up and only a few miles away sets suburban, franchise laden Sandusky for those who flock to nearby Cedar Point in the summer months.  A year ago there was hope that a couple of condo complexes in conjunction with a redevelopment of the far end of downtown would jump start a revival, this year there appeared to have been little movement on either of the projects at which we looked.  The lack of momentum is, no doubt, related to the national real estate down turn but high end condominiums in a downtown where we saw not one grocery store and very little other retail must be a hard sell. Still, if I were retiring and looking for a place to take a chance on, Sandusky - with its friendly residents, access to Lake Erie and ZINC - might very well be that place.

The Merrick Art Gallery and Standard Horse Nail Corporation

Traveller — Mon, 31 Mar 2008 16:21:17 GMT

The Merrick Art Gallery - unlike many of the attractions in and around New Brighton, Pennsylvania - keeps winter hours that make a visit easily accomplished even on a cold Sunday afternoon. It is also conveniently located near at least two fine pubs with darts. From the look of the town and the talk of several bartenders, New Brighton is in the midst of difficult times; a fact which makes the presence of The Merrick Art Gallery both surprising and laudable.


                                                        The Merrick Art Gallery
                                                          1100 Fifth Avenue
                                                  New Brighton, Pennsylvania

Endowed in 1880 by Edward Dempster Merrick, the gallery holds a large but not particularly first rate collection gathered by Mr. Merrick on his extensive travels throughout the United States and Europe. The most interesting facet of the gallery is actually not its artwork but the way in which the artwork is displayed: very much in the European tradition with paintings clustered in multiples all along its long, high walls. The collection also benefits from the natural lighting available through the ceiling skylights of the second floor, although more could be done with that asset.

What is more than first rate is the gallery's contribution to arts education in the New Brighton area. The Merrick Art Gallery offers a wide range of classes for adults and children as young as five. In addition, the museum has an ongoing program to support local artists and to bring travelling art shows to the Merrick. During a time when many economically challenged communities have had to cut back or totally eliminate arts funding, The Merrick Art Gallery has stepped up and provided a much needed way for people to have access to the arts. I highly recommend that when in Brighton you make The Merrick Art Gallery one of your stops.

The Merrick family fortune was built on the manufacture of horseshoe nails. Charles Merrick brought the Standard Horse Nail Corporation to New Brighton in 1882 and in New Brighton it has remained ever since.



                                                              Standard Horse Nail Corporation
                                                                       1415 Fifth Avenue
                                                                New Brighton, Pennsylvania

In 1914 Standard Horse Nail sent the largest shipment of horse nails in history to Bethlehem Steel, a record that number that still stands and, at least as far as Bethlehem Steel goes, will stand in perpetuity. Adapting to change Standard Horse Nail began manufacturing keys in addition to nails in the early 1900s and continued to do so until the 1960s when it stopped making nails. Now, in addition to keys, Standard Horse Nail makes pins of all sorts as well as other fasteners.



The current factory stands on the same land and uses some of the same buildings that the original Standard Horse Nail Corporation used in the late 1880s. Together Standard Horse Nail and The Merrick Art Gallery speak to the difference the commitment of one company and one family can mean to a town like New Brighton.

Beaver, Pennsylvania: an almost perfect town

Traveller — Sun, 16 Mar 2008 18:41:17 GMT

Beaver, Pennsylvania - sitting tidily between Rochester and Industry - resides in a zip code very close to Bill Bryson's "perfect" town but still in the same metaphorical state as Garrison Keillor's slightly off kilter Lake Woebegone. It is a friendly, enjoyable, seemingly prosperous burg but one wonders how it maintains its momentum in the face of the challenges and downturns that have beset its faltering nearby neighbors.

We didn't go to Pennsylvania looking for Beaver but were pleasantly surprised when we stumbled across it (go ahead, get it out of your system now). Having spent the evening in the inhospitable, down on its luck town of Industry, Beaver couldn't have been more unexpected.  We landed there looking for a place to eat breakfast that didn't have smorgasbord or Mac in its name (although let me say that the invention of the MacMuffin is a landmark in breakfast history). So there we were on Third Street in Beaver, only miles away from Industry but seemingly in another world. Breakfast was had at



                                                                         Cafe Kolache

which although busy on this Saturday morning provided fast, efficient service. Kolache was brought to Pennsylvania by the Czechs; it's a sweet bread filled with any number of fillings and perfect for just about any meal. We were surprised when without prompting the man behind the counter offered us "one day less fresh" kolache for half off. Now I'm not a consumer that has any problem with day old bakery goods, particularly when they were visible in the counter and looked no less delicious for their one day's wear. I come from a long line of frozen bread eaters, so day old is like straight out of the oven to me. The kolache plus juice and coffee made for a filling breakfast and we enjoyed it at a table by the window that gave us a view of the street.

Our first visit to Beaver was in the early fall and a craft festival was going on at the town square just down the street, so we meandered that direction looking in store windows as we walked. Nary a chain store was in sight and each of the storefronts we peered into seemed to reveal a healthy, generally family oriented business. As I recall there was only one empty store on our entire stroll.

With Halloween only a few days away, Christmas fast approaching and football season in full swing, the crafts had readily recognizable themes. Very few of the stalls appeared to occupied by professional fair vendors but rather locals with genuine articles for sale. My favorite stand though was the one that sold large cups of sweet ice tea for a dollar and that included a refill. I was tickled to find this treat in PA as I thought it belonged solely to the southern states. When I moved to California several years back I hadn't realized it was a regional drink and have had to content myself with the occasional glass found at soul food restaurants as I cannot get the hang of making it myself. (Yes, I know, pour the hot tea over a whole lot of sugar but I am congenitally handicapped when faced with even the simplest kitchen task.)

Diversity was the only thing I found lacking in our stroll around town, with the exception of the Troy Polamalu bowling pin dolls in the line-up at a crafts fair vendor, I didn't see a face of color all day; which isn't to say that Beaver isn't a diverse community but its ethnic mix wasn't readily apparent on this particular afternoon. Still, every place we went we were met with smiles and hospitality, nowhere more so than at the Beaver Healthmart Pharmacy (okay, that's kind of a chain but it didn't have the look or feel of a chain) at 457 Third Street. For some reason that morning we were talking about our blood pressure (Must be a feature of age, I don't recall being too interested in my blood pressure ten years ago. Lord only knows what is next, my sainted father spent the last ten years of his life inordinately concerned with his and everyone else's bowel habits. Constipation was his true foe.)

A sign in the window announced free BP screenings that day so it became the one and only store that we actually entered other than Cafe Kolache (another sign of impending age I guess, a morning made sweeter by half price breakfast and free blood pressure screenings). After being assured that our BP left us well in range of living through the day, we attempted to find something we needed to buy - the readings having been so professionally and cheerfully delivered we hated to leave empty handed. Unable to come up with anything we needed, we offered the pharmacist a ten for his services. He demurred, slightly embarrassed so the conversation quickly turned to a good place to eat that evening. Wooden Angel was his quick reply and later that evening we discovered that his recommendation was as spot on as his BP readings.

So taken were we with the Beaver community that once back in the car we wandered through its residential neighborhoods looking for open houses to visit. We found a rather disappointing, overpriced condo building on the north side of the street but virtually nothing on the south side. (There was one exquisite, enormous Victorian for sale a couple of streets up from the Ohio river but the low six figure asking price would probably have only been the beginning of the investment needed to rehab it.) The homes overlooking the river looked like their residents had been there awhile and were in no hurry to move. Who could blame them with the mature trees, large lots and easy access to the river? We made several turns through the area but found nothing open to visit.

On our last swing through one of the mid-priced looking neighborhoods though we did find an incredible treasure. At the corner of Van Street and Lake Street a tree gnome -



As you can see by the fact that he is rooted in snow, the gnome was such a hit that we searched it out on our return trip. Can you imagine how many times this corner has been photographed?



I offer two views so you can see how it sets on the corner of the street and also see the detail and expression of his face.  For my money, this tree adds about $10,000 dollars to the value of the property; if you're ever in Beaver, remember he lives on the corner of Van and Lake.

A night out at Wooden Angel

Traveller — Sun, 09 Mar 2008 18:16:17 GMT

After discovering Wooden Angel on our first visit to Beaver, there was no way we were going to be in the area and not visit it again.

Wooden Angel is the fine dining half of a two restaurant complex located not far from the main street (which actually happens to be 3rd Street) in Beaver, Pennsylvania. Its sister restaurant - Wooden Indian - may have food and ambience to equal the Angel but it's a family restaurant so I haven't yet made its acquaintance. Our first visit to the Wooden Angel was back in the fall and at that time we were seated in the Cafe in the center of the restaurant (be aware that smoking is permitted at the bar and the bar is only a plate throw from any table in the Cafe). At the time we were told that the restaurant's less experienced servers worked the tables in the Cafe but our service that evening was well informed and friendly; the menu is identical to the menu in the somewhat darker and more private area to the left, so if you visit don't be afraid to be seated in either area. Both evenings we had reservations and the restaurant was full both nights, so always call ahead.

                                                                        Wooden Angel
                                          on the bright, cold morning following our evening visit

Being a few minutes early we began our evening sitting on a comfortable couch next to the bar sharing a glass of zinfandel. The Wooden Angel has an extensive and much honored wine cellar stocked entirely with American wine.  To the right of us and the bar a party was going on in one of the Wooden Angel's private rooms. Across from us another couple was enjoying a before meal drink.  Given the bitterly cold weather that evening I'm pretty sure the female half of the couple probably woke the next day with quite a chest cold, as most of hers was amply exposed.

After only a brief wait we were led to our table.  It's always a pleasure to find a restaurant where both the clientele and the layout of the dining room lend themselves to a quiet, private meal.  The atmosphere in the Cafe while not loud is a more open, on display feel. In the main room the booths and tables are laid out with ample space amongst all of them.  Having a booth is especially intimate as the booths are wide, their backs are tall and the lighting is low. We were almost immediately greeted by our bubbly yet not intrusive server with menus and a loaf of warm bread.

Many of the meals I eat on the road are a sampling of the appetizers or side dishes that a restaurant serves.  Wooden Angel has an extensive selection of entrees but it certainly doesn't slack on the smaller plates.  On this particular evening we started with five onion soup - which comes on like a standard onion soup but opens up to be a truly different take with not only a variety of onions in the broth but a variety of cheeses in the crust as well; that was folllowed by delicious scallops and truffles in a rich cream sauce. The third plate - garlic shrimp - was a little dry but disappointed only by its comparison to the other dishes we had that evening. As the dishes were served we changed our glass to sauvignon blanc, a little bit of an extravagance but it lived up to its price. Crab cakes finished the meal on a high note; pleasantly full we did without dessert.

Our meal was never rushed, the bill was in keeping with the atmosphere, service and food. Wooden Angel is another of the many pleasures of spending a day in Beaver. We'll do it again.

Flaminio's, Soupy's and McDowell's Inn - Good folks, good service, good times

Traveller — Sat, 08 Mar 2008 20:53:26 GMT

We had been to New Brighton before and now planned to revisit a bar that had been discovered on our last visit: Blue Marble , which would be considered hip even in Los Angeles. We did drop in there to see if the kitchen addition had been finished but found that the owner's trip to Dubai had put further building on hold. While we were the only customers there at just a few minutes past six on a Saturday, the friendly female bartender told us that the bar was hopping from 11 p.m. 'til 2 a.m. - which was mighty good news because when a man comes home specifically to spend his money on building a business in an economically depressed community, you want him to succeed.

The owner of the Blue Marble is not the only person putting himself on the line in New Brighton and the other small towns that dot the hills of western Philadelphia. During our forty-eight hours in the area we found three other bars that offered friendly service, good beer and darts - not steel tip but still a lot of fun. While these bars didn't have the expensive, cutting edge feel of the Marble they had something equally as good: the confident, unbowed feel of working class PA.



                                                                            Flaminio's Pit & Pub
                                                            911 11th Avenue, New Brighton, PA

Burning a few hours waiting for the Blue Marble to open, we discovered Flaminio's on a drive up a New Brighton hill searching for NB residential neighborhoods. Inside Flaminio's we found a lady behind the bar who served up a beer and taught us the intricacies of the soft tip dart machine. Later as I tossed the final darts in my successful quest to become the World Champion of Soft Tip Darts Forever and For Always, she cheered me on. The inside of the bar was dark at above five in the p.m. but not cold and a karaoke DJ was setting up for later that evening. From the moment we first walked in, until the moment we left, the visit was a pleasure.

Later the next day we came back to look at the Merrick Art Gallery and - being early - we dropped by Flaminio's again (there is never a wrong time for a beer and darts) but alas it was not open so we ended up at Soupy's Bar & Restaurant located on the main drag as my mother would say at 517 3rd Avenue. I forgot to take a picture of Soupy's which I deeply regret because it was a high point of our trip. From the outside just a non descript location with high windows illuminated by the "every bar has them" array of neon beer signs and a standard push front door.  Inside it was dark with only one other customer when we first arrived and a handy man working on - damn, I don't know what he what he was working on.  We bought a beer and a bag of popcorn and found to our dismay that the soft tip machine in the far back reaches of the building wasn't working, so we settled in with our high priced food and drink (three bucks including the tip) at the front end of the bar.

In just a couple of minutes the bartender announced that the handy man had gotten the darts machine up and running and if some darts could be found we were welcome to play; we didn't need a second invitation. The bartender accompanied us to the back room which was dominated by a pool table. This area of the bar not being in use at noon on a Sunday, it was pretty cold - and believe me if a room is pretty cold, I am pretty damn cold. Without being asked the bartender popped on the gas logs in the room's fireplace before getting on his hands and knees to retrieve darts from the crevices inside the wall pocket where the machine resided. Most of the darts he rescued were in pretty bad shape but - never fear - he soon found parts that made them almost like new. While I was unable to repeat my astonishing victory of the previous day at Flaminio's, the hour we spent there was nonetheless fun and warm, warmth emanating not just from the fire but from the hospitality of the barkeep. If I'm ever in New Brighton again, Soupy's is on my list.

After our visit to the Merrick Gallery, we decided to look for open houses in Chippewa which - according to the real estate brochure we had picked up - was much in demand for its excellent school system. Now I'm all for education but I found Chippewa - if indeed we actually did find Chippewa as all we saw in several loops around town were a couple of malls populated mostly by local and national chain stores and restaurants - to be singularly without character. I realize that some amazing "only in Chippewa" establishment or neighborhood might have been just over the ridge not taken but the open houses we could find were mainly brand new floor plans that could be found in any neighborhood in any state in the union.

Just following the road we soon found ourselves tracking the magnificent Ohio River - at least I think it was the Ohio, I know for sure it was magnificent - through a deep gorge that gave the river a number of navigable but still impressive stretches of white water. Just turning where we would our car soon found itself along with us in Wampum. As I recall Wampum advertised itself on its name sign as having been settled in1796 but there was very little of Wampum left in 2008, this was a village on its last legs with one small grocery store, a diner, a closed bar and as far as we could find after driving every street virtually nothing else. We left Wampum headed back to the highway but were lured in to Ellwood City for reasons that now escape me.

Once again, as often happens, quite by accident we found a charming small town that while not a vibrant hub of industry obviously had a lot more going for it than the sad little burg of Wampum. On our last swing down one of the streets we found ourselves turning around in front of McDowell's Inn which from the name we took to be a B&B but from the sign we found it to be - what? - a bar and, of course, if you pass a bar you must see if it has darts.



                                                                          McDowell's Inn

I would generally lighten a picture like this up a little but this shot I think gives you a feel for why we stopped at McDowell's late on a cold Sunday afternoon and while the building may have been dark, the bar inside was as inviting as the sign outside. Once again we found a soft tip darts machine, a good beer and - by this late in the day and after several beers - a Coke. Hockey was on the big screen but no one seemed to mind that we blocked part of the view going back and forth to pull darts out of the board.

After we finished another game that started slowly but ended in a dead heat of bullseyes, we had a nice conversation with the female bartender who told us that both her father and her boyfriend were employed full time at the plant down the street and up the hill. In fact, with her steady employment, she and her boyfriend had felt confident enough to buy a home. "Nothing big," she hastened to add but you could tell that it was a happy purchase. She agreed that Wampum was indeed on extremely hard times but still there was some good economic news for the whole area. She told us that the abundance of hotels on the highway to the south of Ellwood City and Wampum were kept pretty busy with traffic visiting the BeaveRun Motorsports Complex and Mines and Meadows, an ATV and dirtbike riding complex built in an abandoned limestone quarry.

So, we ended our meandering through the hills of western PA on an up note, full of beer, having played our fill of darts and witness to the ways small towns all over America are finding ways to stay alive.

Lost opportunities in Industry, Pennsylvania

Traveller — Wed, 27 Feb 2008 18:08:32 GMT

Last fall on a visit to western Pennsylvania, I stopped by a restaurant/bar called Bad Frogs on my way to my motel. With a breathtaking view of the Ohio River (even if part of it included the industrial portion down river), I was looking forward to a good meal on the patio looking out to the river.

Boy, was I ever wrong. The table was - as we say in the south - sticky dirty and our server gave new meaning to the word "ditzy". She didn't know the available beers and still got them wrong after returning to the kitchen to ask what they were. The meal - although reasonably priced - was awful. I like regional takes on different dishes but if you are going to serve pink slaw, it better be damn good; it wasn't.

Not far from where I sat, a small band was trying to set up for late night entertainment; unfortunately, the restaurant's management had apparently not taken care of any of the technical support the band needed. The band members left disgruntled while I was still eating. I don't know if they ever returned.



                                                                         Bad Frogs

                                        taken the morning after my disagreeable evening meal

                                             Could there be a better setting for a restaurant?

the view up river from a portion of the Bad Frogs outdoor seating area

When I returned last week - mid February - the restaurant had closed, not a surprise at all but a great disappointment. I had hoped that the owners would realize what a splendid location they had and give it the staff, presentation, food and drink that it deserved. The restaurant building itself was formerly part of the lock and dam system on the river. Combine the building's story with its incredible view and the obvious sports fervor of the area and it should be possible to create a truly rocking blue collar sports bar with all kinds of links to lively entertainment and sporting events both on the tube and on the river.

Imagine working with the nearby Beaver County Rowing Association to have a race commencing at the restaurant; or televising baseball and football or enormous HDTV screens followed by a live band. There aren't any neighbors to complain about the noise and not only is there ample car parking, people could cruise in by boat. Here's hoping that someone with money, imagination, money, knowledge of running a restaurant, money and a better name (Bad Frogs??) will give this location the chance it deserves to become not just a successful sports bar but a needed employer in an economically depressed community.

Down the road the accomodations were just as bad as the dining was at Bad Frogs. If I am going to a city to do something very specific - say Las Vegas to gamble - I like to stay in posh digs but when I am travelling to learn about the area, I always try to stay at inexpensive, local establishments. Quite often these hotels, motels, B&Bs are gems of service with rooms sparked by individuality. No such luck in Industry - I am in fact not even going to mention the name of the motel. Unlike Bad Frogs, however, it was almost full on the evening I was there and the advertised smorgasbord was jammed pack with locals. The same appeared to be true when I drove by it again in February. While the room was agreeable, the service was downward hostile down to the small placards in the room announcing that if you stole anything the cost would be added to your bill. Also, the advertised free Internet access applied to a small area in the very public and busy motel lobby. I am glad the motel was there as it apparently served a need but I would sleep in my car before I would stay there again.

The same cannot be said of the restaurants, bars and B&B I visited on my second trek to the area. In those establishments I am happy to report that I received not just good food and drink but estimable service as well.

Air Heritage Museum

Traveller — Mon, 11 Feb 2008 21:14:17 GMT

Interesting people and places lie in wait all around Beaver County, Pennsylvania, like the Air Heritage Museum which sits at the back of a gravel parking lot in an umpromising metal building. Inside the non-descript building is a close knit community of airplane enthusiasts who volunteer their time and efforts to keep this small, authentic air museum open six days a week.

A collection of artifacts (with a nice small exhibit on the Womens Air Force) is on display immediately inside the front door but the guts of the operation are in the warehouse/hangar beyond the exhibit room. On the day we made the drive to the Beaver County Airport in Beaver Falls, the volunteers were in the hangar space having a pot luck lunch and birthday cake for one of their members. The unforced conviviality of people laboring together on work they love was apparent in the easy way the group interacted. A couple of children and a few people slightly older than young adult were present but most were men (and some women) who had fallen in love with airplanes during their Viet Nam era service or before. As one of them said, "We work for a couple of hours or until we get sleepy." I'm in my early fifties - a trifle younger than most Viet Nam era vets - but I would imagine that all of them (like my sainted father) would last longer on a day spent rehabbing a plane than I would.

The hangar is a working airplane refit shop with a number of aircraft in various stages of assembly. Bart Farzati was kind enough to break away from the goings on and act as tour guide for the facility. At the time of our visit the wing ribs of Maggie's Pride, a Fairchild 24, were being painstakingly reconstructed. Not far away a



                                                 North American T-28 Trojan

was being refurbished after a trip in from Fort Bliss, Texas.

On the tarmac outside the hangar a number of beauties were parked in varying states of flyability. Two stood out for me, the first being an aviation ready and available for air shows



                                                         Grumman OV-1D Mohawk

Quick test question - in the picture below, what is the apparatus hanging from the wing of the OV-1D?



Someone please say bomb so I won't feel so stupid (although Bart took my answer with a surprising lack of condescension and no laughter whatsoever; please believe me when I write that as the words escaped my lips I realized the stupidity of thinking a plane was standing on an open airfield in the middle of eastern Pennsylvania with bombs nonchalantly strapped to its wings).

Correct answer: a camera. The Mohawk was a photographic observation and reconnaissance aircraft (I think it also could be used to scare people who might not know that those weren't bombs hanging off its wings.)

The second plane that lingers in my memory was obviously close to Bart's heart: a Fairchild C123-K, also lovingly referred to as



                                           The Thunder Pig - that's Bart coming out the front

The C-123, hereafter referred to as the Pig, is a highly manueverable transport plane with a big rear end that allows for easy on loading and off loading. Even one such as I with very limited technical understanding of airplanes (like I had to tell you that) could appreciate not just the utilitarian aspect of the Pig but a little bit of the fun of flying it as well; especially after Bart pointed out the window above the cockpit which allowed for sextant navigation. Plotting your course by the stars is one of those feats that seems totally out of the realm of possibility for me. Imagine being Captain Bligh - yes, that Captain Bligh - using a sextant to find his way back from the waters off Tahiti to an oupost more the 3,500 miles away. He made it to that friendly habor in 47 days with all but one of those who had been put off of the Bounty with him. Had I been the captain there would have been no knowledge of the mutiny on the Bounty because no one would have survived the trip back to tell the tale.

The Pig has flown but when we were there it was ground bound due to engine problems; the crew at the museum was staying at work on it while awaiting its overhauled heart.

Airplanes - much like trains - seem to call out to us from an early age. Who doesn't stop to look up when the sound of an engine growls overhead or peer expectantly down the tracks at the click clack of train wheels? I will forever see in my heart's eye my father pointing out to my son the track of a plane across the sky or the two of them hanging out the car window at the sound of an approaching train. Memories like those cannot be made without the hard work of people like the volunteers at the Air Heritage Museum. Most of us can't put a plane back together but we can stop by for a visit at the Air Heritage Museum and leave a little something that's green and folds so that Bart and people like him and his friends can continue their important contributions to living history.

Mode, Off the Wall and The Communist Party

Traveller — Tue, 22 Jan 2008 19:53:02 GMT

Our first night in Buffalo we had a delicious and relaxing dinner at Mode only a few streets away from the B&B where we were staying.



                                                                             Mode
                                                                  520 Elmwood Avenue

We chose Mode entirely upon the advice of our Beau Fleuve Bed & Breakfast hosts, Rik and Ramona Whitaker. Having been so immediately taken with their B&B we totally trusted their suggestion of a place for a late dinner on a cold night.

Mode has preserved the warm ambience of early twentieth century wood floors, floor to ceiling windows and wrought iron.  Upon entering the restaurant there is a bar to the left and some table seating but we chose to be a little further from the cold air and so were seated in a secondary room to the right which provided warmth and gave us a view of the street. Eating - as we often do - from the appetizer menu, we chose salad Nicoise (with an unexpected addition of cashews), potato/lentil soup (delicious) and scallops, all accompanied by several shared glasses of wine. The unhurried service allowed us to spend the better part of an hour enjoying our food.

The next night, this time on the recommendation of Carl Schmitter proprietor of Chateau Buffalo, we had a decidedly different sort of dinner at Off the Wall, just down the street from Mode at 534 Elmwood.  Carl advised us that if you saw anything you wanted to take home with you from Off the Wall, all you had to do was pay for it, that included the dishes, the tables, the chairs, the pictures "off the wall." The eating seating is mainly fifties and sixties style kitchen tables and chairs; had I been home, there were actually a couple of sets I might have considered. I'm quite sure that one of them was identical to a dining set that was in my best friend's home when I was growing up.

Seeing an advertisement for The Communist Party on a board as we entered, I was immediately intrigued. Communists alive and meeting in a casual dining restaurant on a major street in Buffalo, my how the struggle has changed (they post on YouTube now, too). I was disappointed to find out that TCP is acutally a dance remix band, guess capitalizing the "T" should have been a tip off. An entirely different atmosphere from Mode, the diners at Off the Wall were mostly college kids - the table across from us held three young women with three young men stiffly seated directly across the table from them. Took me back to awkward group first dates from my college days: young women looking not much removed from high school thinking that ordering cocktails and sprinkling their conversation with profanity made them appear sophisticated and young men praying for more than a good night kiss.

Our food this night was a bountiful if not inventive salad, a Bocaburger that proved if you cook it long enough and cover it with plentiful condiments, mushrooms and onions a veggie burger can indeed almost pass for meat and a divine - yes, divine - chocolate, banana crepe. The crepe was not so much a crepe as it was a soft cake wrap for bananas and whipped cream. Had I tasted it before my Boca burger I would have had two...maybe two and a half.

Niagara Falls - that's a lot of water

Traveller — Tue, 01 Jan 2008 20:09:58 GMT

Once you've made it as far as Buffalo, it seems obligatory to head on up to Niagara Falls...so I did. Niagara Falls is one of those places that most of us have a set idea of before we get anywhere near it: small town newly weds, families with lots of kids, tacky souvenirs, crazy people in barrels. Well, it has all of those things but if you go on a cold off season day in early November the Falls are also a few other things: beautiful, amazing, surprisingly free of both evident newly weds (they may have been elsewhere, hmm, wonder where?) and large families with small children (I don't dislike children, I have a very well behaved one of them myself; it's just the more of them you put in one place the higher the likelihood that their parents will think that the village should raise them and I generally turn out to be that village).

Having only a few hours before my plane left, I didn't consider making the trip to the Canadian side of the Falls. Depending upon whom you ask that can be a quick, glide through or a two hour long ordeal; either way, do remember that if you're planning to cross the border you must have a passport. Getting to Niagara Falls by car from the upper outskirts of Buffalo takes less than an hour and you get to drive over a couple of great bridges. I love bridges if I'm not driving; when I am driving I always have the unshakeable thought that a mysterious force will turn my steering wheel to the outermost regions of the bridge and dump me into the water below. Of course, I also get up in the middle of the night thinking the front door is open and someone will get in just before I get there to lock the door. Fortunately for me, neither event has as of yet taken place and on this day, I wasn't driving so the odds looked good.

As you get nearer to the Falls the sound of rushing water becomes a constant but not overpowering background hum. Then as Jaques Cousteau would say "suddenly" the formerly sedate Niagara River takes on a rushing pulse at about the same time the Niagara Falls State Park parking areas come into view. Whether you choose to park there or be guided by the guy vigorously waving his flag and urging you to park in his lot, the charge will be hefty; although if you visit on the off season like we did your only other expense while actually inside the park will be buying a refrigerator magnet. (Did you know you can buy a Mao refrigerator magnet in China? Although to my disappointment it does not say "Made in China" on it. )

Just across the street from the flag waving guy lot, lays the first panoramic view of the Niagara River above the Falls.



                                   View of the American Rapids pedestrian bridge above Niagara Falls

Make a quick trip through the Visitor Center for a restroom stop and a map of the park. Niagara Falls is the oldest state park in the United States and was designed by Frederick Law Olmsted who also designed Central Park. Even on a day - or perhaps particularly on a day - when none of the attractions other than the historical film in the Visitor's Center are open the park itself offers satisfying, interesting and visually spectacular afternoon.

There are two major Falls at Niagara Falls: American Falls which is - come on now, take a guess - on the United States side of the border and Horseshoe Falls which is on the Canadian side of the border.    The smaller Bridal Veil Falls is also located on the U. S. side. Although the American Falls and Bridal Veil Falls can be seen from the Observation Tower (which on this day - whether by intent or accident - was open free to the public), only the heavy spray mist created by the larger Horseshoe Falls is visible from the American side.



                              American Falls as seen from the Observation Tower



                                                                 American Falls redux
                         with more of the spray of Horseshoe Falls in the rear center of the picture
                              and the skyline of Niagara Falls, Canada to the right of the picture

If you're up to a relatively short walk to the top of Horseshoe Falls, I would advise that you make the trip; if nothing else it will warm you up. I was wearing long underwear top and bottom, jeans, two pair of socks, walking shoes, two jackets with hoods and a pair of gloves and I was still cold when my feet first hit the ground outside of the car. By the time we reached the head of Horseshoe I was removing things in great number - another couple of miles and I might have been naked, or at least down to my long johns. Be aware though that it is a slight hike, not a walk and there is a stretch where you either have to use stairs or go up a pave incline (going down a paved incline is always the tricky part for me). Older people or people with walkers or wheelchairs may find the going difficult. Restroom and gift shop facilities are available at the summt of Top of the Falls. In late November the Top of the Falls restaurant was not open and I could have made a mint up there with a hot beverage cart. Another opportunity missed.

Even from the Top of the Falls observation area there is no direct view of Horseshoe Falls but the view down
river is more than worth the trek. A few minutes back down to the American Falls and a trip to the souvenir stand to grap a suitably tacky magnet and the day was complete.



                                         View down river from the United States side of Top of the Falls:
                                          Niagara Falls, Canada to the left; Peace Bridge in the Center;
                                          tall green Observation Tower behind the spray on the right


I will definitely come back to the Falls when I have more time.   At certain times during the year, there are illumations and fireworks displays; even at this time of year there were illumations on Friday nights. I'm not sure about crowding on a boat with lots of tourists in raincoats but you never know. Taking the time to cross the border and see the almost two times larger Horseshoe Falls rumbling thunderously down is quite enough of a lure but the gambling casinos on the Canadian side may see a little of my money, too. After all, I've already bought my refrigerator magnet.



                 A last look from the Observation Tower downstream from the Falls -
                     the now much more sedate Niagara River as it flows beneath
                                            the Peace Bridge to Canada

A Quick Break for Bad Ass Coffee

Traveller — Wed, 19 Dec 2007 16:52:17 GMT

There was a touch of controversy when the name of this coffee shop went up over the site while it was being renovated.



                                                         The Bad Ass Coffee Company
                                                           337 North Brand Boulevard
                                                                 Glendale, California

Given the language you can hear in public coming from almost any mouth or car these days, the name seems almost quaint and, after all, it was an ass that bore the Mother of Baby Jesus into Bethlehem and it was another ass that our Lord chose to ride when he entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, so it hardly seems that the word merits calling together the town elders. Frankly, I would rather save my anger for the lack of a place for the homeless to get out of the weather this winter but hey, I guess that's for a different blog...

Anyway, I stopped by the newly opened franchise late one Friday and immediately found much to like. To begin with the drink sizes are not veni, vidi, vici they aren't even small, medium, large - Bad Ass measures their drinks in ounces and I knew right away that I wanted a 12 oz vanilla Italian Soda. The sincerely friendly service was another selling point for Bad A. The young lady behind the counter was helpful and enthusiastic. The store hasn't been open long and she was obviously still learning about its offerings but her good humor more than made up for her lack of barista skill. To be honest I'm more of a Vanilla Coke fiend (yes, there is a vanilla theme going here) than a coffee afficianado. As far as I'm concerned slurping is just a rude noise not a way to judge coffee.

My son skirts the S coffee store if at all possible because he read that one of them wouldn't give free water to a rescue worker at Ground Zero. I've told him that the story is most likely apocryphal and that even if it is true, it speaks more to the ignorant actions of one employee than to a company policy. In fact, knowing many of the employee benefits that said S chain gives to its employees, I would imagine that it would freely offer water to any rescue worker in any catastrophic situation. I avoid S because it is trying to sell me a lifestyle. I don't want to buy a lifestyle, I want to buy a drink. Unfortunately, quite a few of the people in an S store do want to buy a lifestyle with their coffee which I find both a little sad and a lot annoying.

Bad Ass Coffee is not looking to sell you a lifestyle with your drink. They are looking to sell you merchandise, that's an approach I can appreciate. Of course, they have Bad Ass coffee mugs in a variety of shapes, sizes and price ranges and Bad Ass t-shirts, boy do they have a lot of Bad Ass t-shirts. You can also get Bad Ass key chains, magnets, bumper stickers, in short, they have an ass-tronomical number of Bad Ass logo-ed items to purchase.

In addition to their merchandise, the stores also sell coffee, a number of blends all of which come from Hawaii. They have a legend to go along with that coffee - all about the heavily laden donkeys who brayed under the weight of their coffee burdens. Personally, I think the legend has a lot in common with the legend of the the white mule at Knoxville's Downtown Brewery but we all need a back story.

The store itself is a nice blend of hokey Hawaii - a nifty little faux stone fountain inhabits the left corner of the store - and a big screen TV tuned to sports. No aging hippie or pseudo hippie music, no uplifting DVDs or books, just the sounds of falling water and Kobe hogging the ball. I will be back.