Text 16990, 100 rader
Skriven 2011-10-24 14:26:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: WI trip 87
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CO1216 BOS EWR 0945 1117 735 1B

I arrived quite early at the airport and headed to the
club, where I didn't figure that the cheap wine was worth
the price (free + a dollar tip), so I sat there swilling
watery OJ and doing my e-mail. Yes, there's a sign behind
the unattended bar that says "beer and wine available" even
at this hour. I never see anyone indulging here this early,
though: must be that Boston Puritanism or something.

Around boarding time I moseyed to the gate to find all
sorts of folks milling about: so I milled about also.
Our equipment was a bit late, and we were a bit late at both
ends. My seat was such that I could see into the galley and
watch the flight attendants not doing much. To be fair,
there isn't a whole lot of stuff to do - a coffee service,
a drink service. All in all another uneventful flight, for
which I'm thankful of course. Despite the mild delay I still
had plenty of time to think of getting something to eat at
Smashburger (cheap) or Gallagher (outrageous), but I decided
that I'd save room for a nice dinner with Lilli when we met
in Milwaukee, so I wandered about a bit, ending up at the
club of course, where I had a banana rather than a drink!

There's now a Grand Central Oyster Bar near the 70s gates,
but I've heard bad things about it. Maybe sometime when I'm
really desperate for seafood.

CO4472 EWR MKE 1440 1601 ERJ 7A

The ERJ is reasonably comfortable; I slept, as there's
really not much to see on this route. We took off and
landed pretty much on time.

Having an hour to kill, I caught a weak but usable Internet
signal from I think the USO: whence I discovered that
Lilli's flight was half an hour early, so I hightailed it
to the C concourse and caught her on the way out.

We picked up a car that she'd rented from Advantage through
Autoslash: a Nissan Versa with an automatic transmission
but manual windows, which I prefer for in the unlikely event
of a water landing. The interstate from the airport to
downtown was messed up because of construction, so we took
city streets to our destination, Three Brothers, a Serbian
neighborhood restaurant that has received much good press
- only to find it closed, as it was Monday, something that
we had forgotten. What to do but head to the hotel, whose
restaurant has had decent notices including a 3.5/4 rating
from the local mainstream newspaper. So, still avoiding the
interstate, we first got lost in the port (the mapping
program I was using showed an exit where there was none)
and then eventually found Lincoln Memorial Drive, which
took us close enough to our hotel so we could actually find
it in the fading light without aid from mapping programs.

The Hilton Milwaukee River is pretty unprepossessing. I
did get a nice room on the top floor away from the elevator
down a corridor with 1970s carpeting. I had a good view of
the river - i.e., one that made it look pristine and wild
(a few doors down and you saw reflections from the traffic
lights). Lilli was not so lucky but still had a river view.

The hotel restaurant is Anchorage, actually a standalone
business next door that has the reputation for being a
special-occasion (birthday, prom night, etc.) place, for
which it receives generally favorable reports. Despite
the advertised fact that it has been renovated, the
atmosphere is still from the wayback, though not
unpleasantly so. The staff was pleasant but not, shall we
say, big-city polished. And the food was in fact quite
decent. For starters, I had a Rusty Nail (the decor seemed
to call out for a retro drink); Lilli had an undistinguished
red wine. Her sirloin, ordered medium-rare on the rare
side (I admonish her never to order it this way, because it
never actually comes this way - as soon as you open the door
to overcookedness by saying the dread word, you suffer) was
a nice piece of meat (from Allen Brothers, imported from
Chicago, the waiter said proudly) done two or three shades
too medium. I'd have sent it right back, but it wasn't
my decision. As it was, the meat had reasonable marble,
and almost-medium produced a fairly tender though
slightly dry piece of meat. The veg were four nicely
done asparagus spears with a strange topping of shredded
carrots in margarine. I was somewhat disappointed in this
so-called Dairy State in that there was a significant
reliance on margarine in the restaurants. My whitefish
amandine, for example, was a sizable juicy piece of fish
with carefully toasted blanched slivered almonds; it
would have been excellent were it not for ... margarine.
Now, I understand that this fish had swum in from
Michigan, but that's no reason to deny it a nice big pat
of Wisconsin butter. Sprecher's pale ale was good with the
fish; would have better if the fish had been fried.

No room for dessert.

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