Photo by Doug Wheller, used under Creative Commons license

What exactly is a nel-drip anyway?

Earlier this week I was in San Francisco to speak at a conference. I don’t write about work on this blog, but I certainly write about what I eat and drink, especially while traveling, so here are the highlights:

After the first day’s meetings the conference organizer hosted a few of us at the Press Club, a bar / event space which was happily quite close to my hotel.  Their wine list is enormous (and the full draft list is very interesting) but there was a limited set of each on offer. Still, the 2010 Donatiello Chardonnay (Russian River Valley) was good, the 2009 Bethel Heights Pinot Noir (Willamette Valley) was very good, and the 2011 Textbook Cabernet Sauvignon (Napa Valley) was okay. Cool space too.

A few times I found myself needing decent coffee, so I visited the Blue Bottle at Mint Plaza. I wasn’t blown away with the coffee itself — just not a fan of that particular bean’s flavour profile, I think. It’s clear they take their coffee pretty seriously though; it looked like a chemistry lab in there. But it was a nice little cafe at which to sit and sip a cappuccino. Oh, and the olive oil shortbread was delicious.

Finally, after the main day’s conference, the organizers again generously took a few of the speakers out for dinner at Trace. I had an excellent pumpkin soup with bacon relish (!) and some slow-roasted berkshire pork loin. I had no hand in the wine selection, but the Fumé Blanc and Pinot Noir our hosts selected worked perfectly. I had no room for dessert, regrettably.

With less than 48 hours between my flights, the vast majority of which was spent in conference rooms, it wasn’t a very adventurous San Fran visit. Tasty, though.

.:.

Photo by Doug Wheller, used under Creative Commons license

Photo by Subsetsum, used under Creative Commons license

If I was in a band, "Fahrenheit Bayonet" would be the name of our next album

About twelve years ago, while visiting an aunt (and my mother, who was visiting from out of province) we did a quick side trip to the Aberfoyle Market. No, I don’t know why either. While there, I decided to buy an old bayonet from an older gentleman selling war memorabilia. It was marked ‘1903’, which I took to be the year, and seemed to have a few Arabic characters scratched into the bottom of the blade. I’m not sure why I bought it; it’s possible I was re-reading books about WWI, or was just bored and saw something at the market that seemed interesting. I held onto it for all these years too, through two or three moves, even though there was never really anywhere to put it. I just couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it; there was craftsmanship to it, and it clearly had a story. I did hope it wasn’t a bloody one though. A little interwebby sleuthing tells me it was actually a British Enfield P-1903 1st Model SMLE bayonet.

A couple of weeks ago I walked into my favourite recent addition to my neighbourhood, Fahrenheit Coffee. I don’t even like coffee, but I like their coffee, and have become accustomed to drinking one of their Americanos each morning. They’re cool guys in there too — friendly and funny, and they remember my drink and mark my prepaid card for me so I’m in and out quickly. Anyway, that day a couple of weeks ago two of the staff were talking about collectibles, and one of the guys — Benny — said he collected bayonets.

O RLY?

A couple of days later I went back for another caffeine boost. Benny wasn’t working, but I left the bayonet with Benny’s colleague Brad. He thanked me and said he’d get it to Benny, who’d be pleased. Great. Cool. I went on my way, happy that Benny’s day would probably be made when he came in. A week or so later I was in and saw Benny behind the counter; he thanked me profusely and comped my coffee. Greater! Cooler! I made somebody happy and got a free caffeine burst. The universe works.

Yesterday I dropped in on the guys for my usual hit. I knew I’d nearly run out my prepaid card so, once they’d filled my cup, I made to buy a new card. Sameer and Brad smiled and told me it wasn’t necessary. Benny had bought me two prepaid cards to say thanks, and just not said anything. What a guy.

So yeah, I have a month of free coffee, basically. All for a bayonet that I’d held onto for years without really knowing why. The universe works even better than I thought.

Anyway, the moral of the story is to always buy your coffee from a local independent coffee shop. And to always have a spare bayonet.

.:.

Photo by Subsetsum, used under Creative Commons license