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Posts Tagged ‘dining in Saratoga Springs NY’

It was cold, so we ate phở and drank hot Sake. The end.

Phở (foe). Such a simple word—a word Carey spoke so confidently while we discussed the menu. “Remember when we had phở in Richmond?” “Fishballs, meatballs, or chicken for your phở?” I was so impressed by her confident Asian-ness. I even requested she place the order. But when our 90 pound, kimono clad server touched tip of pencil to tongue, the proud assurance slipped away. All was not lost though, and with a quakey finger and a flick of submissive eyes, Carey pointed to her formidable phở. Yum.

[Editor’s note. I am crying laughing right now reading this, Rob.]

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[ASOS silk shorts + Madewell tights + Sam Edelman boots + Shopbop Bop Basics sweater & hat + vintage L.L. Bean shearling bomber + Gorjana Sedona pendant & gold shell pendant looped together.]

Popped out to the Parting Glass tonight to bid farewell to Radigan, my dearest enabler of atomic hangovers, who is off to the North Pole for a little sojourn through Iceland, Sweden, and onward. It’s a good thing we are basically banned from each other’s company until further notice, after a recent Thursday night when the two of us got the better of each other—or maybe it’s the Miller High Life to blame, or the freeness of them—or else I would miss him something fierce.

Don’t get locked up somewhere where I can’t bail you out, bud!

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Updated update: They’re back!

Update: Holy addendum of sadness and doom! Thanks to an informative comment from Wendy, I sadly learned that one of our favorite places in ‘Toga (thusly, one that marked many milestones in our path to becoming The Burdens) has closed, just a week after this meal. So says the sign in the window, “After 30 years in business, we have decided to close our doors.” In its place, Dale Miller’s—a very talented chef from Albany. Say goodbye to a piece of Saratoga history, to a monument to the legacy of her horse racing history, and to a style of restaurant that’s fading fast.

There’s a little less class on Caroline St. tonight.

What a fortuitous name! Good old Sperry’s. This place is such a throwback, and I don’t mean “throwback” as in “throwing drinks back” even though that’s what tends to happen in its snug bar. I’m thinking immediately of some long-lost photos of my brother’s bachelor party. Which may or may not have included some of the bow tie-wearing gents in Sperry’s wood-paneled bar, and later, riding of our local flair, the thoroughbred sculptures.

[You can see some total arseholes trying to do it here.]

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A night that couldn’t get any better did—with the surprise visit of one of our dearest friends who was in from a hike, kissed by the sun, and most importantly, thirsty. We walked down to The Local to wrap up a fantastic Sperry’s steak dinner with a couple of beers and great conversation. (more…)

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[Daughters of the Revolution dress ($9.99 new on ebay–high five!) + Banana jacket + Miu Miu platforms + Marc by Marc purse]

Fresh off a road trip to Richmond, VA—I’m typing this under the watchful, droopy-eyed gaze of a lovely pony Great Dane. We’d packed our social schedule to the gills from Thursday through to this coming Wednesday and were both sort of rattling around in our own heads, telling complete strangers things like, “…and I hope whoever watches Eli knows to scoop his litter box… gotta watch People’s Court…” like escaped mental patients.

Are we total routine-loving homebodies? I’d sort of fancied us a little more spontaneous. Someone is reading this and laughing. [Mom?] So, when you have a list of things to do and the clock is ticking, and no one is packed, and the car has no gas, and there isn’t a diesel filling station for miles, what do we do? Brunch. (more…)

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Sidewalk seating is in full effect, and Maestro’s was the place to be last Saturday night. I was so excited for our first outdoor dinner that I even selected our wine from the Maestro’s website before we left the house. I have a tendency to get lost in the pages of those leather bound books, causing a undo amount of stress and performance anxiety while I run processes of elimination through my head, ignoring my pretty wife all the while.

This one was easy though, the 2004 Ridge Santa Cruz Mountains, a slightly old world Cabernet blend with great vegetal notes and a better acidity than you might expect.

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April is here, and we are having an amazingly warm weekend. Finding excuses to get out of the house started last night with a trek to pick up sushi—Carey even tootled out on her bike this morning for half ‘n’ half! Town’s buzzing—lots to look at.

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