Cowboy Star - San Diego Steakhouse

Star Struck
Home, home on the range (top.)Branded with the know-how for cooking cattle, Cowboy Star roped us in for my meat-loving-man’s birthday with one cut in particular: the 20 oz bone-in strip steak (dry aged 35 days).

Chop shop: The best of bovine lived here, literally. Star’s own butcher shop resided next door, ensuring aged steaks and prime cuts of the highest quality. Rare choices like the bone-in strip were just one of many reasons to visit (40 oz. porterhouse for two and 14 oz. bison rib-eye were a couple others).

Star appearance: Country Mouse met City Mouse in this upscale, urban cabin, where exposed wooden rafters raised the roof and half-moon booths wore taunt, tanned hides. Hank Williams crooned from speakers above cow-haired chairs that spread out around the fireplace, a saloon-style bar to its left.

Cowhands: Adam, our waiter was accommodating enough, though the second time around we got the Spanish charmer, who was a little creepy, but had amazing attention to detail. At least he would know my favorite drink when he stuffed me in his trunk.

Apps:
Maine lobster gnocchi – In this sea of Pacific lobster, I often forget my Maine squeeze…oh, claw meat how I’ve missed thee! There’s no comparison to this east coast crustacean with soft bites dissolving on the tongue matched like fine fabric to plumped cushions of gnocchi. Fava beans brought texture and morels rounded it out with light earthiness.

Braised lamb short-ribs – The lure of lamb was never greater than when it arrived, fork tender with the gift of a potato dumpling. But the dumpling was a letdown and though the lamb was seasoned well and matched with a tasty whiskey/currant sauce, the lobster stole the show.

Entrée:
Greater Omaha Prime 20 oz bone-in strip steak - What’s so special about this steak? Well, besides being an almost impossible cut to find as a bone-in option at a restaurant, this strip had been dry aged for 35 days and tasted like some otherworldly, buttered popcorn. But that makes it sound so cheap, so one dimensional …it was just so much better than that.

It was an acid trip for the palate. Layers stacked upon layers of flavor. I thought of Violet Beauregarde tasting Wonka’s gum as she experienced a full dinner service…buttery chews of beef…salty waves crashing…a faint tickle in the back of my throat from freshly ground pepper. This was the best steak I’d ever tasted (including my trip to the celebrated Peter Luger's in Brooklyn), as the meat's age was awakened like an angry bear brought to life with the ferocity of Frankenstein.

Hudson Valley Duck – Now my duck seemed like a big goose egg. There it sat with its delicate, lavender-honey glaze and some crispy potatoes, but along with its extra rare temperature, it paled in comparison to the steak…and that hunk, a hunk of burning love was all I could think about. If you're at the Star, get the steak.

Dessert: Lasso…but not least, we tried the strawberry rhubarb cobbler with buttermilk ice cream and crème brulee – neither was anything special. Skip dessert and keep the focus on their cutting edge cuts of beef.

Knick Knack Patty Wack - I took my bone home for my dog, but in reality, I found myself gnawing on its juicy bits after midnight (I eventually handed it over to my pooch the next day, begrudgingly.)

The Noble Experiment - San Diego Bar

Speaking of speakeasies

The wall was phony.
Its balanced rows of kegs: imposters.
I channeled my inner Nancy Drew and pushed hard until I felt something give.

The secret door swung inward to San Diego’s new speakeasy, The Noble Experiment. Hidden in the back of Neighborhood, a spot known for its burgers and beers (along with an absence of booze), Arsalun Tafazoli (Neighborhood owner) and Nate Stanton (El Dorado co-owner) were genius enough to invent this covert kingdom of specialty drinks, because there’s nothing people like more than a secret…unless it’s a secret that involves alcohol. Of course, there’s a price-tag for exclusivity, so prepare to pay.

Relics reminiscent of Disneyland’s Haunted Mansion (ceiling portraits/ moving artwork) and Alice in Wonderland architecture (skinny dimensions/ stretched ceilings/ checkered, marble floor) gave the sense of having chosen the “drink me” option...we had fallen down the rabbit hole.

The crystal chandelier reflected prisms along a back wall covered with gold skulls, their low glow forcing us to read our calligraphy menus by candlelight. Keeping it authentic meant only pushing booze poured during prohibition = no vodka. But it wasn’t missed.

Drink Menu:

Hemmingway daiquiri – white rum, grapefruit, lime, maraschino: Mouth-puckering refreshment gave way to sweetness as I found a gift at the bottom of my glass- a maraschino, the perfect finishing touch. But this cherry on top was no cherry at all, but instead a juniper berry – inventive and delish!

Rich man’s mojito- dark and white rum, sugar cube, mint: Smoother than a normal mojito, pebble sized cubes arced over the glass and planted stalks of mint in their place for the perfect adult snow-cone.

Bramble– gin, lemon, muddled blackberries: This reminded me of a simple, summer dessert in liquid form. Laden with mini cubes and topped with a plump blackberry, the muddled fruit softened the blow of booze with refreshing tartness.

Pepino Fizz –tequila, lemon, cucumber, egg white, club soda: Face-contortingly sour is the only way to explain this one. My least favorite, but I liked the introduction of egg white for a bit of depth. Not to worry Purell purists – the alcohol and citrus kill off any scare of salmonella.

Dealer’s choice: One of the bar’s best features allowed for personally made cocktails based on liquor preference and flavor choice (fruity, citrus, smoky, etc.) The bartender then created concoctions appealing to said tastes. One friend went for a scotch/citrus blend and received the, “Cock and ball,” another was handed the “Paper Plane.” But one mix in particular, a tall drink of tequila, caught my eye and ended up on my list of all time favorites.

El Guapo (The handsome one) – tequila, muddled cucumber, Chalula hot sauce, lime: The most impressive drink of the evening and my answer to a bloody Mary. Who needs all that tomato juice when you can have Chalula hot sauce instead? The first swallow brought a burst of heat eased by a wave of muddled cucumbers and lime, cleansing the palate just in time for the next sip. These could be dangerous, as in ending up in a Mexican jail dangerous…but what is life without risk? We shall meet again El Guapo...the sooner the better.

High brow highballs: My hubby even got to try Balvenie 21, a scotch that goes for about $200 a bottle and isn’t on most barroom shelves. Though the pour cost $30, he was glad he finally got to try it without having to pay for a full bottle.

Noble cause: Come for the intrigue, stay for the drinks…but not too long. They’ve already accumulated quite the wait list for a place that’s so hush-hush, but for the time being The Noble Experiment still stands as San Diego’s best kept secret.

What's Up(country)? - Tedeschi Vineyards, Kula

Grapes of Wrath
We had been driving for hours, but I thought we should check out Tedeschi Vineyards since we were in the area. Once we finally made it (about 30 - 40 minutes out of our way), three busloads of tourists showed up in the parking lot at the same exact time. Strike one.

Welcome to the distorted Disneyland of wineries and get ready to experience “the bottoms-up ride,” which consists of being shoved and hovered over in a crowded, single-file line leading to the tasting bar where you can try their disgustingly, sweet house wine; Maui Splash, a pinot grigio infused with pineapple. I’ve never been so happy to see a swill bucket in my life! Just because I’m in Hawaii doesn’t mean there needs to be pineapple in my wine.

As for the red, there were only two varieties. One which was packaged nicely, but tasted like dirt and the other was descent, but its label looked liked it was designed by someone who drank too much of the crappy, pineapple wine. Strike two.

The absolute worst part was that we found out they didn’t even grow the grapes in Hawaii! They were grown in California and shipped there. Are you kidding me? Strike three...we’re out.

What's Up(country)? - Surfing Goat Dairy, Kula

Got your goat?

After roaring down a dirt path and feeling like Bo and Luke Duke kicking up dust in the General Lee, my hubby and I hopped out of the car to be greeted by a humongous pig. But the parking signs made it clear that we were officially in goat country.

Where surfboard meets cheese board, Surfing Goat Dairy blended laid back business and dairy farming as seamlessly as it blended superior cheese with...well, just about everything.

A tour was available to see the goats up close and personal, but we were ready for the spoils – cheese please! Tastings were served at the homespun kitchen, a simple structure consisting of a single room separated by a glass window for serving customers.

Picnic tables and benches sat beneath a wooden canopy, as did numerous dogs that were just as friendly as the staff. A woman in a straw cowboy hat multitasked in the one room serving up several tastings, while nonchalantly chatting about a new recipe she had tried - melting ping pong balls in the oven and slathering them on bread…her husband loved it.

Wait a minute? What?

It’s not as crazy as it sounds. Ping pong balls looked like their namesake, but instead of puffed plastic, soft circles of goaty goodness floated in a jar of herb, olive oil. Even Bubs, who isn’t a goat cheese lover, was popping these like candy and bought a jar for himself.

What could I say to a tasting tray of about 15 different varieties of chevre? Nothing…my mouth was too full. From fresh herbs to hot peppers to mango to Alaskan delight (mixed with crab.) Sweet, savory - you name it, they made it.

We also bought a couple rounds of chevre encased in wax (so they kept longer.) I went out on a limb and got the barbeque, which blended smoky with creamy – unexpectedly delicious and a perfect gift for my cheese lovers back on the mainland.

What's Up(country)? - Lavender Farm, Kula

Purple Rain
A mist clung to our clothes since we were pretty much in the clouds. Upcountry couldn’t be any more “up” unless we were talking to St. Peter and its panoramic sights reminded me of clicking through slides in one of those viewfinders I had as a kid.

We breathed in a dizzying dose of airborne lucidity as we entered Alii Kula lavender farm, nature’s version of the chloroform rag, except with a crisp, flowery scent. We were heady from the fumes, but they brought a sense of calm, which was only accentuated by the minimalist landscaping and a gargantuan Buddah perched, cross-legged atop the mountain.

Up to our heads in horticulture, we descended a trail that looped around and ended at the gift shop – only about a 10 minute adventure, unless you took the tour (inclduing lavender scones and tea for $25.) Scattered plants showed brilliant blooms, but it was largely varying bushes of lavender - not the most exciting destination, but worth a stop for the view and to see what the world’s best underwear drawer would smell like.

Hula Girl (catamaran) - Kaanapali

Hula - a Hell'ava Girl


Captain Jack will get you high…
On endorphins,
Endorphins and dolphins,
Dolphins and divin'…
Just a little push and you'll be smilin'



The boat: Hula Girl was the boat to be on since its snorkeling tour didn’t start at some ungodly hour like the others (9am-2:30pm was just our speed.) A toned and tanned Captain Jack greeted us on the beach in front of Hula Girl, a 65 foot, garnet red beauty whose namesake swerved her nearly virgin hips on the sail. Not only was she seaworthy, but she was food-worthy, bringing high end dining to the high seas.

Hula held around 50, but there were only 11 of us, so it was easy to see the Girl as mine. Especially since I could sprawl out and sun myself on taunt nets, comfy with cushions, dozing until we were approached by a group of dolphins. They flipped and preened for our attention like a dog looking for a scratch behind the ears- if only I could reach!

The snorkeling: The welcome distraction had us arriving at our destination all the quicker. We settled in the cutout cove of Honolua Bay Marine Preserve, nature’s design for prime snorkeling (and diving for a few brave souls.) A “sea turtle car wash” was nearby, a regular spot where fish picked turtles clean of debris, but we couldn’t find it. That was ok. We were filled to the gills with sea-life sightings, but our stomachs were empty after all that swimming. The next fish I wanted to see was on my plate.

The food: Chef Noel’s name couldn’t have been more appropriate because his food tasted like Christmas. We feasted on some of the thickest and tastiest ahi on (well, technically off) the island for only $13. Blackening spices brought some heat to this Hulk-sized sandwich and only accentuated the ahi’s bright flavor. Throw in some salty chips and a few bottles of Longboard Ale = Heaven.

And everyone knows that there’s plenty of napping in Heaven, so afterwards it was back to the nets for 40 winks. Filled with the contentment of a practically private charter (gourmet chef included), swimming with the fishes and playing with Flipper, my ears flooded with the white noise of billowing sails and tuned out the real world for just a little longer.

Indigo Grill - San Diego

No Blues about Indigo
Atmosphere: Neon warmth reading, Indigo Grill, in bold, scarlet font reflected off a silver exterior in direct contrast with the rainforest-esque essence pulsing through its woodsy dining room (a tree grew from floor to ceiling behind the hostess stand.) Indigo’s earthy appeal made me feel as if I’d fallen down a rabbit-hole and discovered a lost culture whose native cuisine was gourmet.

Appetizers: We might have needed a dictionary if our friendly server hadn’t helped us with “Indigo lingo.” Menus trimmed in copper offered a variety of unusual dishes with ingredients that peaked my curiousity as much as my tastebuds.

Oven roasted mussels and clams– were champions of the evening and a must order item for anyone who visits here. They were served with chipolte mojo, a broth so creamy and spicy it could masquerade as shellfish bisque (with a bite). When I tell you that this broth danced on the tongue, it sambaed. Served with parmesan, scallion flatbread (for optimal sopping) and shipped from Prince Edward Island (known for its ultimate seafood), these were the tastiest clams my bivalve-loving-buddy had found on the west coast. Even if you’re a little skeptical of mussels, this dish will put your mind at ease- small, plump and succulent.

Caesar salad - I'm a sucker for a good Caesar, though this variation didn't satisfy my needs. I loved the whole, grilled leaves of romaine and addition of fried capers, but the chipotle-anchovy creme wasn't my favorite and though I liked the fig jam and flatbread, it didn't quite connect with the rest of the dish.

Brie covered in pipian and plantains – arrived with accoutrements of every type heaped on the platter: grilled tortillas, scallion flatbread, mole negro, marinated nopales, roasted garlic and jalapeño jelly - great for sharing.

Entrees: Blueberry lacquered lamb chops – were a sweet and savory concoction delivering juicy, blissful bites, then upped the ante with a pot of gooey, cheesy potatoes that pulled on my heartstrings as much as they did my fork. Indigo must have slipped something in those taters because I felt my eyes getting heavy and landed in a comfort-food coma directly afterwards (counting lambs, not sheep.)

Pecan encrusted rainbow trout- topped with orange-pasilla buerre blanc, swirled crunchy bits of pecans with salty/sweet butter. Oven roasted potatoes and corn salsa didn’t add much to the dish, but the featured fish made up for it – quite the catch.

Pipian- rojo chicken – turned me off with its pungent flavor. “Just say no to rojo”, since the spices overwhelming the bird (stuffed with goat cheese, pancetta, dried fruits and arugula) made this chicken foul. I still had hope for the polenta cakes that had me longing for some pan fried goodness, but instead they only offered up tasteless squares of cornmeal.

Hickory & apple smoked pork ribs - were coated in a Morita-Kahlua glaze and full of fall-off-the-bone goodness. Not too smokey, plus their sweet and tangy zip from the caramelized Kahlua melded well with sides of Indian corn pudding and shaved pear salad with cilantro vinagrette and walnuts.