Monk’s Café - June 21 Visit

And now a new report from P. Thatcher on a recent visit to Monk's Cafe. - Adam

Monk’s Café Belgian Beer and Emporium and Restaurant, June 21 7:15PM – 9:00PM

Report By: P. Thatcher

I had never been to Monk’s before, although I’ve passed by it many times. When a visiting friend (VF) suggested it as an alternative to the fully booked Barbuzo it seemed like a fine suggestion, so we agreed to meet up there for dinner.

As it happened work was slow Tuesday so I stayed home. My hot date and I took the bus together from stately Thatcher manor and made excellent time to the restaurant. We arrived at about 7:10, and there we hit upon an unexpected flaw in my planning: Monk’s will not seat you until your whole party has arrived. Since the actual planned meet-up time with VF was 7:30, I and the luscious hot date (LHD) had to wait. Now, this would not have seemed so bad except that it was hot in there, and the bar was packed. Not a seat in the house available, so LHD and I had to stand.

While I managed to maintain my stoic calm, I could tell that LHD was very annoyed at the wait and lack of seating. For those of you unfamiliar with women, this is a bad omen for the rest of the evening. On the other hand, I got a good look at a Dyson fan, which was interesting to see in operation. Alien technology or no, it was still outmatched by the heat in the room, but it helped when it blew right at me.

So I and LHD spent some time looking at the room. The bar was filled almost exclusively with men during the time we were waiting. I did see some mussel pots delivered to them as well, so eating at the bar is an option.

Eventually, VF arrived, and very quickly our black-clad feline hostess got us to a very cute three seat alcove. Now things started to improve significantly. [I later learned that the semi-private nook made the LHD very happy, and much inclined to visit again.] Waters arrived, and I started reviewing the incredibly long and helpful beer menu.

So, I don’t know much about beer. I blame society. And advertising. So I’m sitting there and looking at one of Philadelphia’s greatest beer lists and I have no idea what I ought to drink. Sure I want it to taste good, but it would also be nice to impress VF and LHD.

So, I review the beer list, and I realize there’s a whole section on fruit beers. [Wikipedia later teaches me more about the lambics.] And so, grasping at straws, I tell feline hostess, I’d like something with cherry.

Here, friends, is what it means to live in civilization: she starts to actually help me! My rough guess is that the beer list has something like 200 entries on it, from all over the whole planet. And she is able to immediately begin narrowing down options (“do you like it sweeter, or more tart”) to identify which beer I should try. It’s amazing. VF applauds the hostess’s obvious beer knowledge. And soon arrives in my hands one of the most astonishing beers I’ve ever had.

If you can imagine a wondrous beer version of sour cherry soda, then that is the beer I had. Specifically a bottle of Lindemans Kriek. It was $12 and they brought the bottle and the appropriate glassware. I was stunned.

You want to know what VF and LHD drank? Best as I recall giddy on the bubbles…nothing. And with uncharacteristic restraint, I decided to slow-go it to keep up with the ladies.

Noise level in the room was low enough that all three of us could talk comfortably. I greatly appreciated that.

You know what I also greatly appreciate? Hamburgers. I had their Ardennes hamburger with the pommes frites on the sides, cooked medium. It was great, and definitely filled me up. The LHD had eaten a late lunch, so she opted for dessert for dinner. The hostess gracefully brought out the desert tray, and the LHD went for the buttermilk blueberry tart.

VF ordered the classic Belgian dish: Mussels. It was the small, but even so I don’t think she managed to eat all of them. Her dish included bread at the side to sop up the broth and a side of the pommes frites.

We ate and talked. In the end it was a wonderful time.

The bill arrived quickly when we asked for it, the total was reasonable, and by this point, about 9 o’clock, the room had started to clear and the bar now had free seats available.

As we stepped out into the summer evening, the LHD shared that other than the long wait to get seated she had really enjoyed the evening. So I avoided the perdition’s flames of an angry woman, and call the evening a success.

P. Thatcher

Ranstead Room - Shelter from the Sun (and Center City Sips)

And now, from P. Thatcher, a report I have long been waiting to read. -Adam

Yesterday I stepped out of work and decided that it was a good day for a cocktail. Amuse came to mind as an alternative, but my gut was to try Ranstead Room first. Along the way I noticed several big crowds out, included a loud party over at 19th and Market. I was surprised for a moment wondering at big crowds on a Wednesday night. But comprehension soon dawned as I remembered that Center City Sips has started a couple of weeks ago.

Walking through the late afternoon sunshine, it was about 5:30 when I reached the Ranstead Room. I pushed open the first door and really was blind for a moment in the relative darkness. But I adjusted quickly-must be all the carrots I eat.

So it was that I managed to be one of the first folks in for the evening. David, standing nattily attired and ready to deliver, was the bartender this evening. I took a front-row seat at the soft bar to watch him do his work.

After asking me a few questions about my interests for the evening, he began preparing my drink. First off was a Toronto Cocktail. It was a magical paintbrush of a drink, and set the world even righter.

As I sat and sipped, I observed other folks starting to walk in. First a young man waiting for his date, then another couple who also took on a bit of the bar.

I had to decide what to do next, and decided upon grapefruit as the touchstone of my next drink. Again, the good wizard was ready with a drink, this time the Hemingway Daiquiri.

Now the world was expending, and I could ponder upon all that was right with the world. Including my having to read A Farewell to Arms long ago in high school.

By now I was getting hungry, and so I tried the cheese plate. I can say definitively the blue cheese and goat cheese were excellent. They were washed with a bit of a margarita-style drink I'd requested on the wild hare idea of a liquid General Tso's.

Finally I was ready to return to the outside world. By this time the sun had kindly chosen to dim a bit and I could continue on with my night.

If you have ever been frustrated getting a seat, going early is an excellent strategy. I was dressed business casual, and felt I blended in fine. But in general it's a good place to dress up. The service is excellent. The prices are reasonable for what's being provided.

Mexican Post Love Park - Outdoor Dining

And now comes P. Thatcher's report on the Mexican Post Love Park location. -Adam

Mexican Post, Love Park
June 3, 2011.

Report By: P. Thatcher

I am always up for a party, so when the e-mail came saying "Happy Hour" my day was made. The invite mentioned that Mexican Post was picked for its outdoor seating, and convenience. I might be ready to hop a taxi to some Old City outpost, but I understand that people with wives or dogs or children or World-of-Warcraft waiting for them at home might not be as excited about venturing far from our offices.

I popped over at 5 sharp, making me the first of the crew to arrive. Friday was about about as nice a day as Philadelphia ever has: sunny, not to hot, with a breeze. There was already a big crowd in a cordoned off area of outdoor seating, and a DJ playing some music from portable speakers.

About five minutes later, the first wave of the rest of the party arrived. The partier-in-charge asked the hostess, an attractive brunette, by the way, about getting a table for ten. Expected wait, 30-45 minutes, but we were free to stand and get drinks from the small outdoor bar. We took that deal.

The little bar had margaritas, red cans of Tecate, and maybe Lager? I went with a margarita, graciously paid for by one of my co-workers. Now, this is a margarita in a plastic cup, and fairly low strength. No problem, I could nurse it a while and continue enjoying hanging out.

So we socialized and a few things started to become appearant. The first was that standing too close to the speakers was really annoying. The second was that 30-45 minutes was a very optimistic guess. Part of the problem, I think, is that the crowd was having a wonderful time starting the weekend with a little buzz in the sun. I know I was impressed. Even if my legs were getting tired.

Our crew had a few splits and re-orgs, so by about 7:30 we got a table for six. The sun was still out, people watching could continue, and food was on the way. I wound up getting more shrimp than anticipated (I was trying to order the appetizer, wound up with an entree. No big deal, I was hungry enough to tackle it. Waitress was apologetic.) Closed out the night with a shot of Don Julio Blanco ($14).

By 9:30 the party was winding down. And, perhaps because of its dependence on Center City worker bees, so was Mexican Post. They were quick with the check. The bathrooms were clean. And so the happy hour ended.

A few further notes. If you are trying to meet new people, the patio is really not the right place to do it. Most everyone there was part of a party of some sort. So although it was fun to people-watch, I don't think anyone would have felt comfortable striking up a conversation with a different table. For that, you would probably be better off at the bar indoors. Also, on a nice day, it's going to be hard to get a nice chain of table all to yourself without arriving early. We will remember that for next time. By 5 the place was packed.