Read Drink & Be Merry

Sports bars. Ugh. Typically they exist not for the food but for the game. You get the impression that more thought and effort goes into TV placement and daily game selection then into the food. You could even make the argument that the food exists only to soak up the alcohol so the customers can order another round or pitcher. Not being a huge sports fan, nor being able to remember the last time I ordered a pitcher of beer, I usually avoid sports bars. My last visit to one, Home Team Grill , found weak drinks (albeit cheap) and inconsistent food. Sometimes, however, the situation – or the craving – makes the decision for you.

At the Gaylord Hotel, on Maryland side of the Woodrow Wilson Bridge in the National Harbor, there are a number of choices for dining to choose from. We, of course, just really wanted a good burger. Based on that, and the need for speed, we decided that National Pastime Sports Bar & Grill was the choice for the afternoon.

The restaurant itself is big and airy. Very modern and slick with a theatre size screen showing five games with additional TV’s over the two bar areas (they even have a golf simulator). Since the entire hotel is smoke free the usual smoky blue haze of sports bars was absent. While the place was busy the entire staff was smiling and pleasant. Amazingly so. From the waitress, the busboys, the bartenders – even all the managers I ended up speaking with during our visit – every person we came in contact over the weekend was a pleasure to interact with.

The menu reflected the upscale nature of the hotel. The usual items like quesedillas and ribs augmented with offerings like blackened rockfish and panini. We, however, were here for the burgers. In this case all their burgers were 1/2 pound Kobe beef – with a promise of cooked perfectly to order. So, with 86 Richmond in mind, I took the plunge for a medium rare burger.
To start we had a plate of shrimp tempura with a spicy thai chili sauce. For a sports bar the price was a bit much at $11, even in an upscale hotel, but the plate came out with 10 jumbo shrimp on it so it turned out to be a pretty good value. The shrimp were good but had a lingering greasy flavour. My guess was the oil temp wasn’t quite high enough or they had been put in too quickly after another dish had been fried. Moshi-Moshi serves a better shrimp tempura but these were adequate. The thai chili sauce was surprisingly like one that M makes at home so we had no complaints there.

Soon after we cleaned the plate our burgers came out….

Apologies for the crap quality of the burger picture….

Let’s start with the good. Kobe beef is very fatty and makes for a greasy burger – but greasy in a good way. The fat in the meat has an amazing flavour and this burger had flavour. I had ordered the swiss, mushroom and caramelized onion. I kind of wish I hadn’t because I could tell this was beef that was good enough to stand on it’s own and, joy of joys, the chef had hit medium rare very nearly dead on (M had ordered hers medium and I thought it looked a bit closer to medium well but she thought it fine and that’s who really matters).

Now the not so good. The buns were egg rolls. Tasty unto themselves but with Kobe beef your dealing with way to much moisture for the bread to hold together. Add to that the moisture of the cheese, mushrooms and caramelized onions and the whole thing was coming to pieces on me before I got halfway through. It might have worked better had I flipped the burger upon receiving it, so the larger top could soak up the juices, but I didn’t. They really need to use a more substantial bun that can stand up to the Kobe.

The fries were forgettable. It’s sad when you have a high quality main product and then use low quality sides. Should’ve been fresh or hand cut.

Now the bad…. As I had the swiss mushroom and M had the bacon BBQ we both removed our tomatoes from inside the burgers. Halfway through my burger I noticed one of our tomato slices had a rotten interior. The very center was a mushy dark brown. At first I thought it might be some of the BBQ sauce but M had requested it on the side and a closer inspection proved it to be rot. Ugh. So, with my hamburger disintegrating further after each bite and a rotten tomato on the table my appetite abandoned me.

The waitress was horrified and the manager was very nice. Offered dessert, we declined.

For a sports bar this was a pretty nice place. They seem to be able to serve a medium rare burger, something that way too many restaurant cannot. If they get a more appropriate bun and fix the fries they have the base for a world class hamburger.

Oh, just in case, if you have a sandwich there be sure to inspect all the ingredients. I can only imagine had we not removed the tomato…

M went in for her monthly check-up and the joy that is testing for gestational diabetes. Nothing like not being able to eat and then drink the equivalent of soda syrup followed by the repeated drawing of blood. At least the tests have gotten better. The first time I was checked for diabetes, in the 80’s, it required urine and blood samples every hour for eight hours. By the end I looked a bit like a junkie.

Anyway, while she was going through all this her doc, who had noticed her name on the list this morning, hijacked her for another go with the ultrasound. This time he was able to identify a few features and make the call. So, with that we are able to upgrade Zygote to Baby E.

Oh, you want to know the gender?…. It’s a boy!

Amazingly in less than an hour.

M left the house around 6:30 and I stayed home to sleep in… I mean watch Finn. She called to wake me up a little after 7 to let me know how long the lines were so I dragged myself into action. Oatmeal for Finn while I showered and then we were off. Dropped Finn off at school and then the long haul to our voting precinct.

We live in an oddly gerrymandered district. One would think that we would vote at Norrell, it being only a couple of blocks from our house. Nope. Perhaps we should vote at the library on North Avenue. Nope – although we do drive by it on the way to our precinct. No, we drive up North, down Brookland Parkway and down 1st, passing a number of other precincts to get to our rather remote spot – a firehouse that doesn’t even serve our neighbourhood. Normally this difficult set-up accomplishes it’s nefarious task of voter suppresion by increasing the difficulty of voting, but not today.

I arrived in the light rain and took my place in line. The atmosphere was upbeat but there were a lot of questions being asked. It was surprising how many people, some older than I, who had never voted before and were unsure what to do. The newbies were helped by various poll workers while others walked around extolling the virtues of their respective candidate. The most interesting person I met there was Art Burton’s daughter – seems we have a common friend – RVA Foodie. She reffered to him as her ‘home boy’.

The level of confusion was evident as I entered the firehouse. Just because the letters A-K and L-Z may give you the impression that you have split voting population in two it doesn’t really work that way. One line was much longer than the other. Not to mention the fact that splitting the voters in two may have been a good idea in the past it may have been prudent to form three or even four line to help move things along.

A poll worker at the door was directing people to their assigned lines but for some odd reason kept pulling all the J’s out to the side. So, there we sat. Feeling a little singled out and unsure what to do. She returned and moved us to one of the many, overlapping, confused lines in the firehouse. Watching the whole scene I started mapping out how, if I was a bad person, I could jump lines and possibly even vote more than once. Hopefully they were paying closer attention then it seemed and even if I were so inclined to beat the system the odds of failure were pretty high as the few of us with white skin stood out just a tad.

It was about this time that I passed M as she was waiting for a voting machine. She had been there for nearly two hours at this point. She informed me that it had taken her an hour to get where I had gotten to in a little under a half hour. Guess it paid to sleep in a bit…

The first signs of real trouble appeared as I approached the registrars desk. A young Arab gentleman, who barely spoke English, didn’t seem to be on the voter rolls. He had looked nervous the entire time in line and I would be lying if I said people weren’t giving him unpleasant looks. The problem was pretty evident to me – the id he kept waving about listed him as a resident alien. My guess is that he wasn’t on the voter rolls as he wasn’t a citizen.

As he was pulled to the side I stepped up and was told I was in the wrong line…. Yep, we were in the line for L-Z. I informed the poll officer that this is where I had been told to go and that the five or six people behind me were also J’s and had been told to stand in this line. No problem, she said, just step to the front of the other line. My turn to get dirty looks from others….

So, I was off for yet another line – this time for the voting machines. In the past we have had three machines in our precinct, although usually only two are functional. Today we have a whopping four. Sad. We really needed at least five to keep things moving although maybe more people working the voter roll books might have made it work even better.

A couple of minutes later and I was at the electronic machine. Obama, yes. Warner, yes. Jones, yes. Burton, yes. Two additional votes were cast but there were no opponents. Both of these people should have been challenged. Ellen Robertson, I voted for her but feel she has ingnored the district for a while now. Perhaps someone will step up and challenge her next time. Same for Bobby Scott, I voted for him but would have voted against him had there been a challenger. He has been an empty suit for quite some time now.

So, my duty done, I headed off to open the store. Now the real waiting begins.