Totally Unauthorized

This could be an interesting post–not only did we have a miserable day of bridge, but they were pouring the Baileys with an especially heavy hand in the Presidents suite tonight, and neither my brain nor my fingers are working at maximum competence.  I like to think that I am in training for our trip to Kuai next month, and I need to build up my tolerance for Lava Flows.  If this thing didn’t have spellcheck you’d see just how much Baileys I’ve had.

The first session of the Mixed we were just below average, the second we were waaaaaaay below average.  We were so bad we didn’t even know how bad we were, it felt sort of decent.  We just kept making a trick less than the field, without any fireworks.  Quiet, steady, underperforming.

So tomorrow we’ll play the compact KO for the third time.  Micky and Linda had a good game in the afternoon, but not so much in the evening, and have apparently missed their Q by some tiny amount.  We did better, missing by a ton and not having to worry about should we show up at the start incase there was a score correction–if you’re going to lose, lose big.

At least we had a good dinner.  Went up to the top of the hotel to their supposedly best restaurant, which is advertised as being one of those moving places that give you a view of the entire area.

I asked the concierge to get us a 6:00 reservation.  He left a message on my phone that he was unable, and we had a 6:30 date.  So I called the place told them how much we needed to get in at 6:00 so we could be back playing, and they said they were full untils 6:30.

Not being one to quit {I really wish you could see how badly I’m typing.  There may be alcohol in Baileys after all.} I went up there with $10 in my palm ready to bribe my way into an early table.  So of course they said, no problem, you table is already set up.  This left me befuddled even before I started with the huge glasses of irish cream.

Our table was just a table–nothing moving.  Mike and Linda and Gail and I have enjoyed the rotating restaurants atop tall buildings in many cities–Vancouver, Dallas, Montreal, San Francisco spring to mind but I think there are more.  Louisville isn’t one of them.  They have two small areas that are on rotating platforms, but since they are just in the corners of the building it is more a matter of having a view for a while, then not having a view.  And we weren’t on the turntable anyway–we just had  a stationary table, with a view in one direction.  Nice view, but not moving.  Oh well, one part of Indiana looks much like another part of Indiana.

On to the food.  Big Fancy Menu. Big (for Louisville) prices (moderate for San Francisco, cheap for New York or London).  Fancy persentation.  Fanciest butter dishes I’ve ever seen–they come with butter with roasted garlic and pesto on it, parmesean cheese and olive oil on the side.  You choice of potato rosemary bread or baguette.

The most complex presentation of bread and butter ever

{Okay I’m back.  Got a good night’s sleep, went out to breakfast out in the suburbs, and now I can type decently.  Things well make more sense from here.}

Toby is here in Louisville to see his dad in the hospital, and he came to dinner with us.  His Bibb Salad had the most interesting presentation I have ever seen:

The intersection of art and food.

I started with the foie gras, which was priced about half what it would have been in California, and still excellent.  Then soup, and being a good boy I even had a tiny taste of porcini mushroom.  No, it didn’t kill me although I expected it to, as I expect all mushrooms to.  I try to avoid foods that kill people, and don’t understand why not everyone does.

Next up was my pork chop, and another great presentation.

Poached pears on pork chop on brussels sprouts. Great.

We all enjoyed our meals, but the service was far from fast and I didn’t feel we had enough time to really savor the entrees and there was no time at all for dessert, so we paid the tab and headed down to get shellacked in the second session of the Mixed.  Which means we’re playing compact KO again, then going home on Thursday–but not before a special event you have to wait to hear about.