Author: These Two Eyes

These Two Eyeshttp://www.thesetwoeyes.comI believe that experiences are the key to life and travelling shapes those experiences. I try and get away to experience somewhere, something, anything and everything new as often as I can, and it's typically the thought on my mind on a regular basis – so what’s next? Meeting people and hearing their stories, experiencing other cultures, and having a laugh along the way. Trying new food, marvelling at the similarities, the differences. Feeling anxious and scared, and excited and envious all at the same time. This is what it's all about. Thanks for listening to my stories. Eat, drink, explore, meet, laugh...it all makes living worth it.
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When influenced by a review


A horn honks in front of Baltimore Penn Station. There are still piles of ice stuffed in corners and medians covered with snow scattered throughout the car port. I look up sharply, a bit annoyed that in a matter of 2 minutes I was asked to bum 3 cigarettes. My friends have arrived.

I’m amused by Baltimore. It’s a city I loved hating when I lived here and now every time I come back I’m hating that I hated it so much. It’s got a lot to offer, and I’m almost certain if I found myself living here again it would a whole new ball game. But regardless, I’m in the car listening to pop music with two girlfriends from college. Should she spend $1000 on a new rug for the dining room or use the money for a shelving unit? The other votes rug. Her Saturday is already spent, what a nightmare, having to get up at 8 am to pick up a new dinner table 30 minutes away! For some reason I’m having a hard time grasping this. This is stress of your daily life? You lose sleep over carpets and shelves? If I had a $1,000 well I’d, I’d…

The conversation quickly turns to dinner. At this point I doubt I’ll ever understand the necessity to spend vast amounts of money on home furnishing. Do we try something new? Go to the same old-same old’s in Canton Square? Sushi, again? I’m up for something new but would be perfectly content in a funky little bistro tucked away in a quiet ally. Votes in. New place it is. Funky bistro out.

We do a drive by. From the outside it looks no different then any other restaurant in a shopping center. Could almost pass as a chain, like a Fridays or Outback. The reviews from friends were minimal. Appetizers good. $3-10. Really? Who gives feedback solely on apps? I’m a bit more interested in the ambience and entrée selection. Any good beers on tap?

Lambermains. Longhorns. We’re back in the cute, polished row home in Canton Square and now for the life of us cannot remember the name of the new restaurant. Does this place even have a website? Not to our knowledge. After several minutes of scuffering around the internet (it really shouldn’t be THIS hard) we come across one review. Thank you! But it’s not sounding so hot. There are complaints that although this place (true identity Langermann’s) is Southern inspired, the menu selection in actuality is not. From overpriced burgers to wings doused in a sweet bbq sauce (apparently this reviewer was so disgusted she had to wipe of each wing on her napkin – no way).

We ignore the reviews and don’t tell the other girls. Let’s see if this place can prove their sole reviewer wrong! The dining room is big and open. The bar spacious to allow for large groups to have drinks while waiting for their tables. We were tucked away against the kitchen. Part freezing draft drifting our way from the cold outside, brushing past the hostess stand and directly into our laps. The other part wafting the smells of savory meals, southern spices, and the rickets of pots and pans.

For starters, our waitress was clueless with a capital C. The beer selection was varied but there were a few local or imported brews that I wasn’t familiar with. Either was she. A personal pet peeve, and one would understand, was that the drink list didn’t differentiate between bottle and draft, and neither did she. Entrée’s ran for around $20 and I had my eye on the seared tuna. Other’s included shrimp and grits, crab cakes (we are in Baltimore), and sea bass. Unfortunately, the girls went all “diet” on me and most of us ended up with entrée salads.

Was I full at the end of my Beef Tenderloin Salad (sub goat cheese!)? Yes. Was I completely satisfied? No. I had to send my meat back – something I rarely do. When I say “whatever the chef recommends”, I’m assuming that his dear heart truly does not recommend completely raw meat for an offering that’s typically medium, medium-rare.

Was I swayed by the poor reviews? Would I have been as judgmental about the poor (I would go as far as saying completely inexperienced) service, a bathroom so cold I should have just gone outside, a dining room too open for the vast space – if I had not read a bad review before coming? Probably my friend. Probably.

http://www.langermanns.com/

New Years Eve in midtown Manhattan?


Tomorrow is New Years Eve. Year 3 in New York City. Makes me question myself and my whereabouts every time I contemplate how long I’ve been here.

Year 1: House party in Murray Hill. Ice luge, check. Penthouse, check. A bunch of people I know, check. A bunch a people I don’t want to know, check. Midnight tolls. I’m confused. I don’t like it much and wonder, although surrounded by those I love, kinda like, and want to hate, and do hate – is this forthcoming of a new year worth my efforts?

Year 2: Same penthouse. No ice luge. Same group of people I love. New group of people I hate. Still wonder why I’m here. Not satisfied with my only, or at least only semi-viable option being a replay of last year, only worse. I end up at a diner five minutes past the stroke of midnight. It’s empty. Service is slow. What can you expect? I’d hate me too if I had to serve burnt grilled cheese on New Years Eve in Midtown.

Year 3: I’m opting for something different. Can I truly leave New York without doing an all-inclusive open bar in midtown for too much of my hard earned money? I mean, I only drink beer so $135 open bar for a bunch of, well at least I hope something a bit tastier than Coors Lite drafts, but lets be serious folks, shitty drinks while wearing a fru fui outfit, mask, and a bitter cold on the
roof top – apparently a view of the fireworks, to freeze my ass of and shiver like there’s no tomorrow – is worth it.

I envision walking in, seeing a dark-haired and blue-eyed man give me “the look”. I’m still not even sure if I know what that means. They hand me my free bottle of champagne. A big guy, a magnum of the good stuff. Not the shitty mini bar type that is most likely what I’m going to get. So yea, I’ve got my sexy sequined skirt on. I even went the ten-fold to curly my hair. Still deciding if I’m in the mood to manipulate my toes in a “I’m ready to walk on the side-walk in my stockings” kind of heels, or just opt for the sneakers kind of mood, but we’ll see.

The forecast calls for snow, rain, and sleet. 28 degrees farenheit. Awesome.

Least to say, I have to do it once. Pay a shitload of money to stand in line. Hide out next to the entrance where the waiters exit to serve the handful of h’ourderves not sufficient enough to satisfy an over-filled bar. Drink my moneys worth of beer; not in the least that I could have gotten for $15 at my local, where I’m pretty sure the clientel will be a bit more my speed and can have a conversation other than Brittany or Tiger’s latest shananagins.

So wish me luck folks! I’m off to celebrate New Years Eve in Midtown! Oh boy!

Frozen Monkey makes me feel alive


I initially started this post on a torn piece of paper from the back of the current book I’m reading, a collection of travel stories from the year 2002. My moto today is anything is possible if you make it happen.

I get great satisfaction eating at the Frozen Monkey cafe in Hoboken. The service is terrible, and no, that is not a typo above that I take great satisfaction in eating here. There tend to be long waits for simple a menu to be dropped on your table, your order of eggs takes as long as making mashed potatoes from scratch, yet lately it has been friendly and not as daunting as I recall from the past.

Maybe this is because I eat often by myself and don’t notice these subtle nuances anymore. I like it here because its one of the few places in Hoboken with character. That’s not to say the various bars and restaurants plastered all around this small city don’t  hold true to the northern New Jersey joints most would picture in their minds; they do exist. But this place represents the character that shouldn’t exist and isn’t expected to.

Local, contemporary art hangs on the walls – changed every few months to support the local artists. Bright, vibrant shadows drape the walls in lime green, blood-red orange tables and chairs fill the room, and a coffee counter sits in the corner as retro as a 70’s polyester suit. I come here, despite the service, because the food is flat-out good, healthy, and cheap.

I make eye contact with a cute boy with shaggy hair and blue eyes sipping coffee at the table across from mine. They play music that I would listen to in my own apartment or at least would be interested enough to want to. I ignore the screeching laughs of the university girls who come in to gossip and the nannies who wipe spit from the spoiled children’s mouths while their parents are off working at investment banks in Manhattan.

It’s Sunday and I’m bored. It’s sunny but cold. The snow is shoveled against the curbs, occasionally missing someones head as it falls from the apartment window sills above on Washington street. Today is my day in Hoboken and I feel alive.

April showers bring May showers


It must be raining for nearly two weeks straight. With April showers over and May slowly crawling into existence, I wonder to myself if Hell has frozen over and global warming really is changing the world at an accelerated rate.

There is nothing like walking down Washington Street in Hoboken, NJ when the sun is shining. College students and young professionals seep out of open doored bars, aimlessly stroll boutiques and gather for some touch football in the various parks that scatter around the mile-square city. I wonder to myself, “where are you Mr. Sunshine?”

It’s now early May and looking at the 10-day weather forecast no hope is in sight. I know I shouldn’t believe weather.com as its failed me miserably in the past but for some reason…I believe him this time. I wonder if I was better off when I lived in the UK – but then again, I wonder that frequently. Another work week quickly comes and goes, rotating between feelings of importance, frustration and damned boredom.

My little rain boots, painted thin with tiny terriers wearing pink bows, slowly start to make the bottom of my feet ache. I’m unsure how many times I can take my umbrella being blown inside out from the strong winds coming off the Hudson and dream about the summer days I’ve struggled through this endless winter waiting for the cold and dreariness to end. My thoughts are engulfed daydreaming about what should be; days of picnics in the park over lunch, working out on the pier, sipping pints on sidewalk cafes and sweating on the subway.

Oh Mr. Sunshine, please do hurry and come out and play.

Zack’s Oak Bar and Restaurant


Enter through plush, forest green curtains into this cozy eatery and there’s no doubt you’ll be greeted with warm smiles. Because of its size, Zack’s offers a feel of exclusivity without the pretentions. A honey-comb tiled floor, oak-panels, and long mirrors line the bar with pictures depicting Hoboken’s early days. Although located off the beaten path, Zack’s isn’t missed by the locals. Some even go as far as to call it Hoboken’s own version of “Cheers”.

With only ten small tables in the dining room there can be a wait on weekends but it sure is worth it. The intricate ceiling, painted blood-red, contrasts the warm walls and tea lit table-settings inviting couples to nestle against lush corner pillows and talk intimately over French wine.

Aside from the nonchalant ambience, the true reason to visit is the food. You could call it American with a twist of everything. Favorites include the Stuffed Chicken (stuffed with asparagus and a drizzled with a soy based 5-spices sauce), the Lentil Salad (with balsamic and topped with warm goat cheese), and the Turkey Burger (a local favorite). In addition to their standard menu, new specials are offered daily from hearty, healthy pastas to fresh fish and juicy steak. Choosing a special off of this menu never fails.

With funky, indie-rock music flowing softly from the speakers, Zack’s is divey enough to make you feel comfortable at the bar sipping a few pints (from light beer to imported Belgian drafts) or watching the game on one of their four TVs. Yet at the same time will make you feel elite snuggled in the tiny dining room amongst your closest friends – who most likely are soon to include the staff.

In the summer months al-fresco dining proposes a nice alternative for people watching and on the weekends brunch offers all the favorites. At Zack’s it’s a win-win. It won’t drain your wallet and will leave you feeling at home with a smile.

Zack's Bar on Urbanspoon

Beauty Shop (966 South Cooper)


Dining at this retro, eclectic restaurant in the heart of the Cooper-Young district in Memphis takes you back to the insides of a 1940’s barbershop. As the name suggests, the decor alone is worth a visit. The front dining room, which houses a few small tables and a bar showcases hand blown glass chandelier’s and lime green sinks from the days of this 1st unisex barbershop in Memphis where the men had their hair snipped in the front of the shop and ladies were expected to have their services in the all pink painted back.

Tables are wedged where the old dressing stations used to be – still in tact with the original ice cube-like glass separators, original shelving and accent lights. The sheik, white decor and leather booths adds a sense of 70’s sheik.

The food is a great mix of traditional American and international cuisine with an interesting twist. Many dishes offer a sweet alternative to the typical meal; for example, try the chicken wings and watermelon smothered in a sweet thai sauce or the highly recommended grilled peaches topped with blue cheese. One of the many highlights is the famous BS Grilled Romaine – smokey romaine doused in a semi-spicy dressing with bacon, tomatoes and blue cheese. All dishes are served on vintage plates.

For entrees, the seared snapper was very flavorful although overcooked with a crisp exterior – as is everything in Memphis. The salmon with a side of arugula salad was tasty yet a bit salty in addition to the fishy mussels.

The highlight – dessert. Known for their cakes, the strawberry and caramel are melt in your mouth, moist cakes topped with a thick frosting. I also recommend the crepes (banana and nutella as a favor to our pal Elvis) was extraordinary.

For a post dinner drink – stop by the Mollie Fontaine Lounge (679 Adams Ave) which is owned by the same management as Barbershop and used to be the owner’s personal residence. Set in an old Victorian house, experience what true Memphis has to offer as Mollie’s is a place for the locals. Stepping inside this massive Victorian, the aroma of musky smoke fills the air. With live music Thurs – Sat, grab a glass of wine from their extensive list of cocktails as you relax to the piano and blues.

The first floor is strictly non-smoking, with two rooms of unique decor, enlarged black and white photos from the 60’s, cow-skin carpets and antiques nestled in tiny corners. Upon climbing the old wooden staircase to the second floor, the vibe is a bit more lively, the air a bit more smoky, and the various couches, nooks and funky atmosphere enough for anyone to melt into the true heart of Memphis.

 

Athens Backpackers


The rooftop bar offers floor seating and hookahs free to guests.

The location couldn’t be better. An easy commute from the airport and the port of Pireaus, the hostel is literally seconds from the Acropolis and Plaka.

The staff are friendly and accomodating, offering free breakfast (toast and hard boiled eggs). If arriving early, there is no locked area for baggage, simply just a storage area in one of the open common rooms.

The view of the Acropolis from the rooftop bar is spectacular and you can’t beat free ouzo shots and 1 Euro pints of Mythos (although they do require a 50 cent deposit in an effort to recycle cups.) *Pete, the bartender, is a riot with his over zealous stories and love for the Athens nightlife. Staff typically takes the backpackers on a mini-pub crawl post the hostel bar closing around 11.

The beds and rooms are clean for a typical hostel and many accompany a small balcony. With Athens being a smoking city, the hostel is a breath of fresh air for a non smoking residence.

Beer and water are available at the front desk along with maps and the very knowledgable staff.

The lounges aren’t that large or comfortable so don’t anticipate dropping your bag and taking a quiet snooze, it won’t happen. This limited space also doesn’t allow late night partying within the hostel doors. But then, Athens nightlife is very lively.

I defintely recommend and will re-visit Athens Backpackers.