January 28, 2000

quick and painless trip

We were up before six and showered up and gone at 6:15. We'd packed the night before and with the tiniest flurry of last minute activity we got off. I know the routine for driving to Houston to go to work in the morning so I drove. We zipped off once at Grange at the Bon Ton Texaco for a coffee refill and a snack.

Before nine we were in the plaza at the BMC building and I was inside hooked up to check my e-mail in the communications room. The sales launch went OK. I went out to lunch at a Vietnamese place with a business associate and we talked business and other stuff. (I've found that I tell everyone that I'm working on moving my parents and then find the most interesting stories of people's own older relatives or their own plans for old age.) Back from lunch, I checked mail and then spent a couple of hours with another associate planning some schedules and talking about some technical ideas. We wound up just when I'd planned, I went down to the plaza and Forrest had pulled up to pick me up.

Forrest had gotten gas for the car, checked into the hotel, hung up our clothes, gotten his suit pressed, gotten our tickets for tomorrow night from the Alley Theater box office, spied a museum he wanted to visit and located the restaurant where, two weeks earlier, he'd made a reservation. He'd also tried out a restaurant downtown for lunch, gone to the Galleria briefly and who knows what else.

We relaxed in our room a bit and then dressed for dinner. A hotel employee stopped by with a little amenity from the manager. Maybe because we'd stayed there before? There were two plates with two triangles of some kind of sweet bread dusted with powdered sugar. And two bottles of Pellegrino. Interesting, but not something you dive into if you are going out to a fine dinner. Forrest drank one of the bottles of water and we left the rest of it sitting on the table.

We picked up our young friend (25) Amy D. at her mother's house where she is living while struggling to be an actress. (She has recently gotten a part in something called 'F---in A' except more explicitly and it seems to be an updated Scarlet Letter or something.) We got to Mark's a little early. Built in an old, small church on Westheimer. Amy said it had been a vintage clothing store before it became a trendy restaurant. Indeed, several neighboring establishments offer recycled fashion. We waited at the bar with a bottle of T Vine Syrah. We'd never heard of it, but the barman said it was tasty and we've been leaning toward Syrahs (Shiraz in Australia, Rhone in France) lately because they drink so well young with big jammy fruit and friendly lack of harshness. And let's face it: we don't buy old wine in restaurants and probably neither do you. We got a table in what seemed to be the choir loft. Our waiter was professional but enthusiastic. On his recommendation I had nine-hour lamb which was served with grits. Redefined lamb and grits. Although, I think the Carpaccio of Kobe Beef appetizer was the best thing I've eaten in a long time. And this appetizer that Amy and Forrest got with fried green tomatoes and crab meat and little tomatoes with caviar was heavenly. Amy had one while Forrest had Foie Gras and I had the beef. (Amy let me try hers. Heavenly.) Then they brought Forrest this same app, because he'd ordered three courses. Then confusion arose and another one showed up. Forrest sputtered and we sputtered and in the end none of us told the server's helper that we'd already had it. We just ate it! Amy had some kind of fish with a Cabernet sauce which she loved and Forrest had tuna which he thought was a little uninspired. Their entreés came with a vegetable that is a hybrid of broccoli and asparagus called asparation.

We had a glass of Far Niente Dolce for dessert. Forrest had a cobbler, too, and we all stuck a spoon in it. Wonderful meal. If you go to Houston, go there. Better have a reservation, though. We got one two weeks in advance, don't know how successful a drop in would be. It isn't real big and it was packed.

When we returned to our room we noticed that the cake on the plates had been disturbed in a most interesting way. One triangle had been removed from each plate. Nothing else in the room seemed disturbed, nor had the bed been straightened where we'd mussed it while napping before we went out. We found this amusing a little and disturbing a little. Imagine the hotel employee who was hungry enough to take the cake having to calculate just what might be overlooked and not reported! Sad and profound somehow.

"A man should know someting of his own country too, before he goes abroad."

Laurence Sterne, Tristam Shandy