Team Wet Dog

williamsburg

I got home from class last night and made a couple of gallons of chicken stock. Two reasons, I think — first, the stuff that comes in cans is awful, and I'm tired of ruining sauces.

Second, I'm tired. Why this would lead me to to make stock at 10:30 p.m. is difficult to explain, but I do think it's the reason. I have four days off, coming up. I took off Thursday and Friday, and combined with the weekend that makes it the longest stretch of time I've had (and not had to leave town) in quite a while. I just want to relax. I just want to do things I enjoy. I just want to make roast duck with an orange-ginger sauce, and not have it taste like canned stock.

Saturday I went to Williamsburg for a work conference. I think this was a very strange decision on someone's part, because Williamsburg is a very, very strange place. Alas.

The trip to Williamsburg was short, and I think the most fund thing about it was the driving. I'd forgotten how much fun it can be to drive backroads, small highways, keeping the music too loud and the map in your lap.

After dinner the first night, I was trying to find a bar in Williamsburg, some place to hang out for a while before heading back to the greyness of the motel. But there didn't seem to be much activity around, so when a restaurant hostess was naming local bars I asked, "do they close early?"

"No," she said. "They're all open until 11 p.m."

Huh.

— Robert

(11/14/06) 
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