The Blue Cactus artlessly combines traditional Mexican ingredients

Ali and I thought we'd try The Blue Cactus Mexican Grille (5 Liftbridge Ln. E., Fairport) to see how its "traditional Mexican cuisine" compares.

It was awful.

Well, that's not quite true. It was bland, unsatisfying Mexican food — "traditional" for people who think "traditional" means bland and unsatisfying. The drinks at the bar were adequate but a bit pricey, but the meal was quite expensive and only marginally enjoyable. I ordered the Chile Rellenos: (from the menu) "one stuffed with beef picadillo, the other with a corn medley, [then] oven roasted". I was irritated that the server made a point of saying something like "wow! isn't that a wonderful presentation?" — don't patronize me: I'll make my own decision on whether I think it's attractive or not. The roasting seemed to take all the characteristic flavor out of the chilies, leaving them not quite as flavorful as a roasted bell pepper. The beef picadillo wasn't bad, but the "corn medley" is a poor excuse for dumping corn and other unseasoned soup ingredients into the pepper … er … chile.

The Banana Licuados — a milk-based smoothie which I opted to add oatmeal to ("to make it really authentic!") — was really quite good. Ali and I experimented with our own rendition later. Although the server said the oatmeal was not cooked, I think it should be to allow the oats to dissolve with the milk.

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Two most excellent years with Ali

Today is Ali's and my second anniversary together.

To celebrate, we decided to go to Rooney's Restaurant (90 Henrietta St.) for a fancy meal. I was fortunate to have discovered a postcard under the computer that reminded me they had a special chef coming for the week so I made reservations a few days early. [Can you imagine that?: reservations. A few days early. In Rochester. Who knew?]

The guest chef was from Brasserie Georges Lyon (30, Cours Verdun Perrache, Lyon, FR) and had set up a special French menu. We started with the Lyonnais salad — a mesclun salad topped with chopped bacon and a poached egg, perfectly matched to the mild vinaigrette dressing. For dinner, Ali had the beef tenderloin over mushrooms with mashed potatoes — the beef was spectacular and the potatoes were deliciously prepared with a massive amount of cream. I ordered the Lyonnais pike quenelles — essentially puréed pike made into a soufflé and floated in a puréed lobster-and-mushroom bisque. Although the word "purée" doesn't sound all that appetizing, the meal certainly was. We even got dessert: Ali the crème brûlée and I the flourless chocolate cake. Both were amazing.

Afterward we headed back home. Unfortunately this was the start of a flu-like illness that kept Ali home all weekend, so I was left on my own while she rested.

In the end, though, I wonder how we can keep having such great anniversaries. After all, we have a lot of them to come.

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Terrible service at Hogan's

Ali, her friend Emily, and I headed to Hogan's Hideaway (197 Park Ave.) for dinner. Ordinarily Ali and I have excellent service and food overall. There is one server, however, that we've had terrible luck with and that happened to be the very one who served us tonight.

We ordered a carafe of house wine and he managed to spill a bit on Emily when he poured it. Rather than apologizing he quipped that her animated ways caused him to get all worked up — peculiar and unto itself not a big problem. Emily also happened to notice lipstick stains on mine and Ali's glasses so she asked that he get clean ones. He returned with two fresh glasses and left before I noticed that the new glass I got had a stain as well … I just wiped it off, but come on!

Ali had ordered the quiche of the day (ham and cheese, I think) but what she got was something different (artichoke and roasted red peppers). Even though he returned to the table to confirm what she wanted, he didn't bother to mention they had switched quiches. By now we all had our meals and he just said that "they must have run out" and offered to put in an order for something else ,but Ali decided it was good enough rather than waiting 20 minutes for another dish.

Next, Emily found a piece of eggshell on the bottom of her sandwich. When she inquired with our server, he said (and I might not have the quote exactly right but it's pretty close), "I assure you that eggs are one of the ingredients when making the rolls". The way it was stuck on, it was obviously not baked in but collected from being set upon the eggshell. He said, "well what do you want me to do?" Before we could answer, he headed back to the kitchen then returned and offered to remove the item from the bill. Emily asked to see a manager and he said there was nobody available. She asked, "well, who's in charge?" "I guess I am," he replied. In the end, she decided to eat the sandwich with no bun, hoping to avoid getting sick. We snagged someone busing tables and asked, "hey, is that guy really in charge?" and they said he wasn't and laughed incredulously.

When we got the bill, he had removed the sandwich but had added a salad we didn't order. We told him and he removed it. He came back and in his haste of busing the table, he managed to dump several items on Emily. He didn't say a peep — I had enough of him and I almost told him to just leave everything until we were gone.

We ended up leaving a 10% tip. In retrospect we should have gone with our original plan to dine-and-dash, stiffing them with the whole bill.

After all, it's not like there was a manager on duty to chase us down.

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Hogan's, Station 55, and the Bug Jar

Ali, Stacie, and I went to Hogan's Hideaway (197 Park Ave.) for dinner. I stuck with the sure bets of a good wine, French onion soup, and a grilled cheese and was not disappointed. Well, okay, except the sandwich which wasn't grilled as much as I'd like.

After that we headed to Station 55 (55 Railroad St.) for the ArtAwake event. We were surprised to find that they charged a cover at the door — not exactly an art-gallery-kosher move. I was then disappointed to find the works were not particularly impressive. Worse was that the lighting left nothing to the imagination and there were no nooks to explore. It didn't help all this any that there was no wine to be found either — which, among other things, can help loosen one's ingrained bindings with America's corporate-consumer culture. Alas, it was a big disappointment for me, and kind of kicked off the evening poorly.

So then we went to The Bug Jar (219 Monroe Ave.) a bit early to catch the bands there. Unfortunately — despite it being a rather popular headliner — GaylordMySpace link, in their last Rochester show before moving to Atlanta — the happy-hour vibe was still in full-force: blaring house music and all. I only really saw the first band, Razor Wire ShrineMySpace link who are an instrumental chaotic rock band with subtle influences from all over the place. I only caught a little of Fledgling DeathMySpace link, a thrash/heavy metal kind of band. By then the three of us were quite tired and decided to call it an early night.

In related news, The LandfillMySpace link (625 Weiland Rd.) has been shut down (related because sucky Station 55 has not — it's too milquetoast to displease the aristocracy). I recall reading it in a news clip from The City Newspaper but it doesn't appear to have made it to the online edition. I believe it was a casualty of Mayor Robert J. Duffy's plan to shut down house-parties, as I was pretty sure it was some guy's house. When I first heard of that law, I was concerned it would be abused beyond its original intent: to give police the leeway they "needed" to shut down house parties when they came upon them. Now, my vision of a house party that needs to be shut down is one that is completely out of control — where the residents have lost their ability to control the party themselves.

Once again — like the shutdown of A|V Art Sound Space (N. Union St. at Trinidad St., #8 in the Public Market, formerly the All-Purpose Room) — the creative fringe of this city has had its hands chopped off. And once again, I theorize that this will push one more of these inspirational creators to go find a tolerant city. And the Mayor and all his cronies will sit around and not care about those one or two fringe people, but to me, they inspire — and I assume so of other creative people. And unfortunately that is not a column in their spreadsheet and it doesn't compare well to tax dollars.

So, I'm left giving this advice: don't trust the police. They are not your friends. They are not there to help you. If you see them, go away from them.

I hope this is what the mayor has in mind.

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An excellent meal at Michelina's

Ali and I headed to Michelina's Italian Eatery (2700 W. Henrietta Rd.) for dinner. I had never been there before, but it's some of the best Italian food I've had around here — and reasonably priced to boot! I had the Costatelle Alla Maiale: breaded pork cutlets served with marinara, eggplant, cappicola, and mozzarella over pasta. It was excellent: the pork must have been pounded tender for a whole day. Ali had the Pizziola: breaded chicken with marinara, pepperoni, mushrooms, and mozzarella — also excellent.

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Dinner at Magnolia's

I just thought I'd mention that the dinner that Ali and I had at Magnolia's Market and Deli (366 Park Ave.) was very good. The French onion soup was great [although different-from and not-as-good-as that at Hogan's Hideaway (197 Park Ave.)], and the pizza we had was excellent. The only real complaint was that the cream soup (broccoli or spinach … I can't remember) that Ali got was, well, weird. It wasn't much like a cream soup at all, but more of cooked chopped vegetables in a broth with some cream in it. A quick exchange for their excellent tomato bisque fixed all that.

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Firestone and Jitters

Well February is coming to a close and since we bought the Buick Wagon last year at the beginning of February, it was time for its inspection. Since I had a coupon I decided to go to my usual garage of Firestone (369 Jefferson Rd.).

I also brought along a coupon for "free coffee" at Jitters CaféMySpace link (3333 W. Henrietta Rd., in Southtown Plaza) since it was in the same plaza. It was a snowy day and it appeared that there was only one person working. They were hidden in back making someone else's sandwich — for around 3 or 4 minutes with not even an acknowledgment of myself or the woman who came in after I did. This didn't bode well. When the solitary employee finally got to me, I ordered a breakfast sandwich and the free coffee. She pointed out that the free 12-ounce coffee [I didn't notice whether the coupon even specified a size] would probably not fill my travel mug — all 14 ounces of it..

Ok, now I don't know everything about running a coffee shop, but I do know that the cost of a cup of regular coffee is almost completely labor — coffee for a whole pot (even fancy coffee) might cost 50 cents.

Me and the woman behind me got our food at the same time, presented collectively with bland indifference. Fortunately they were different kinds and it was clear whose was whose.  In all, I'm not very impressed.

But to top things off, the Buick needed a few things. I had intended on bringing it in soon anyway for a regular shakedown but today I just wanted to get the inspection done quick. It passed — but the power steering pump was leaking as was the pinion bearing on the rear differential.

I thought it funny that I had to step back and rethink the day. I had originally planned to stay and wait, but the repairs would take until early afternoon. I almost stayed anyway but decided instead to get a few things done at home. They offered me a ride back to my house. Later in the day I returned and paid for the repairs, and then Ali brought me back when she got out of work to collect the beast.

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Breakfast at Blue Horizon and Driving the Wrong Way on 390

Ali and I had a late breakfast at The Blue Horizon Restaurant (1174 Brooks Ave.) As diners go, this is one of the best: of late my number one qualification is that my coffee stays full — and not only did it not get empty, it barely hit the halfway mark. The food is good diner-grade food and the prices are low diner-grade prices.

We left around 1 or so and on the way home I thought, "I should just take Brooks Avenue" but I got on 390 anyway. As I was getting on the ramp, I saw that traffic was at a standstill. We got in line anyway, figuring it would clear up. However, a steady stream of emergency vehicles kept coming. Some cars behind us rushed ahead to get to the second lane, but we were in no hurry and didn't mind being one of the last ones through. State Police closed 390 at Brooks behind us and were directing all traffic off the highway. A State Police officer started having cars entering at the exit turn around and drive the wrong way up 390 then turn off on the exit. We followed suit. It's the only time I've ever driven the wrong way on the highway. It was wild — it made me feel all sophisticated like I was driving on The M1 or something.

We decided to see what happened so we got back on at Mt. Hope but traffic ground to a halt around Scottsville Rd. Police were directing all traffic off the highway at that point as well, but we could see a multiple-car pileup — rubbernecking, we saw at least 6 cars involved. The hill formed by the new tunnel under the runway for the Scottsville Road access road had caused drifting snow to form a whiteout and had coated the road with snow. As it turned out, there were way more than 6 cars involved: 36 in all. As you've probably heard on the news, one young girl got killed and there were about 20 people taken to the hospitals with various degrees of injuries. The accident was apparently caused by a driver who stopped in the middle of the white-out.

People say the "cause" was the driver who stopped, but that was just the final straw. A whiteout totally sucks and there's no ideal solution. Initial wisdom says that if you can't see, stop, but it's also a highway, so you don't stop. Second best is to proceed slowly. In my opinion, that means very slowly compared to highway speeds (i.e. 20-30 miles-per-hour) but judging by the damage to cars, it appears that people scarcely took their foot off the accelerator and instead plowed into whatever was in front of them at full-bore. Then again, it was clear skies and dry roads right up to the bend, so only the properly attentive drivers even had a chance.

I also think it's interesting that nobody faults the airport. If it were a private residence and they had put up a privacy wall, they'd have hell to pay. But because the airport presumably wanted to extend a runway to accommodate larger planes, it's all good — dead girl and all. I'm not so much advocating suing the airport, but I'd like to see a fair assessment. Rather than let it slide with a passive-voiced "the conditions were dangerous," I think it's important to realize that prior to this construction project, this was not an issue. And as such, to determine if there is something that can be done to change the structure of the tunnel to prevent these kind of conditions from forming again.

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Ali's Mom Visits

Ali's mom came to visit this weekend. They got to spend a lot of time together working on decorating her house. We also hit a couple local restaurants — first-and-foremost was Don's Original (4900 Culver Rd.) as she always makes her way back there any chance she can. We also had an excellent meal at Pomodoro Grill and Wine Bar (1290 University Ave.) There's no surprise why they're still around after all these years.

I spent most of the weekend alternately trying to get things done and nursing a fever. I would have probably given them lots of time anyway (as it's been a long time since Ali's mom has been back in Rochester) but the fever just amplified the situation that much more. (And they did have a nice time, just the two of them.)

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