I flew out late Wednesday for my third trip out to the Pacific Northwest (although one of these was just passing through, on tour with EN!). After flights that rendered me as stiff as when I completed the half-marathon, my brother plucked me from the Seattle airport at close to midnight local time, in the midst of a three-lane rat-race that made the Indianapolis pick-up zone look like a machine. On the ride back to Bellingham...my desperately-empty stomach needed something warm. (I'd only managed to find a lemon-blueberry scone via Caribou Coffee in Minneapolis), and reluctantly turned to the McChicken. Glazed in mayo, of course, with hot-n-salty fries. I'm not sure when the last time I ate McDonald's, but I wasn't disappointed...except in myself. Desperate times call for pre-shaped particle-pressed chicken patties. Got back to the house past 2am, and immediately went to bed in the wooden loft of the guest room.
Thursday
My body and brain were so confused, I failed to sleep in. Woke up around 8, showered, started reading one of my vacation books (all food/culture this time): Spice: The History of a Temptation, by Jack Turner. After showering and considering cooking in, we took advantage of the sun & newfound warmth to walk downtown to a Belgian-styled breakfast joint, the Mount Bakery. Having never consumed Eggs Benedict before, this seemed like a ripe (and recommended opportunity) for which i was richly rewarded with two poached eggs laying seductively atop half a belgian waffle topped in thin-sliced ham, all on a bed of roasted potatoes. This was, naturally, blanketed with a golden blanket of Hollandaise. Combined with great coffee and a sunny patio...this blew my jet-lagged mind.
Post-food coma, Ad and I headed out on bikes to gather in more of the sun, riding streets and paths down to Boulevard Park, which is on the bay and was crowded with sun-seekers. Rode a little farther to Marine Park, off the beaten path and much smaller and quieter, with some nice stones to sit and look out at sailboats, the port, even Lummi Island. He had an outdoor soccer game to play in the early evening, so we booked back through town, and I worked on some LP art (the 2-color center of the record) for this fall's EN! release.
Early draft for Do It On the Moon record centers.
He returned in time to respond to gnawing hunger pangs from Megan and I, and then they treated me with a gift certificate he'd been hoarding (or...hadn't had time to use while jetsetting across the midwest and east coast) to a local "gastropub" (something about that word just rubs me the wrong way...I blame Indiana), the Copper Hog. I needed little encouragement to try one of the best burgers I've ever had, excessively topped with fried egg, bacon, and cheese, of course. The featured brewery that night was Seattle's Two Beers Brewery, which provided a smooth & tasty blonde, and an IPA that was distinctly hoppy, but not overly so. Both I thought were more than adequate representations of each style. By this point, it was close to midnight, and my sleep-addled brain had been feeling like mush since 8pm, so I was out immediately upon returning.
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