For Better And For Worse

Yesterday I was so busy ranting about the results of Capital Region Living Magazine’s Best of the Capital Region poll, I didn’t even have a chance to tell you about my weekend.

If you actively follow me on Twitter, you probably have a pretty good sense of what I was doing. Actually that raises up an important side note I’ve been meaning to mention for some time.

I’d love to meet you. Seriously. It’s one of the reasons I check into places publicly–just in case someone happens to be in the area and wants to come over and say, “Hi.” So if your phone chimes, and you see a tall, bald, guy who looks like me, shoot ‘em the Junior Birdman goggles. If it’s me, I’ll give you the Carol Burnett ear tug in return. Or, you know, you could just come up and ask if I’m Daniel.

But this was a weekend full of food adventures.

Saturday I played hookey from my family and went out with a book for a slice of pizza followed by a quiet beer outside on a lovely (if slightly chilly) early-spring day. Sunday I let my kids play hookey from religious school, and we enjoyed some donuts at Bella Napoli, dumplings at Ala Shanghai and the first Snowman homemade hard ice cream of the season.

I won’t bore you with all the details. The notable thing I want to discuss with you today is how the places you love can change.

Sometimes it’s a bummer, like my experience at Sutter’s Mill.

The bar for this place is pretty low for me. I don’t eat the food there, except for the pub fries or maybe some French fries (without gravy, regardless of how tempting that may seem). When I go, I go for the deck. And I’ll happily deal with their limited draft selection to enjoy some time under the branches of the trees in the back.

But when the few good beers they have are tended to with such apathy and disregard, I’ve got to reconsider my outdoor drinking options. Right now a 40 oz. of Olde English and a ratty lawnchair are sounding much more appealing.

I don’t want a beer poured without a head, or to have the glorious head of my beer unceremoniously scraped off to make room for more liquid in the glass. But I would like the head of the beer to come at least to the rim. I don’t feel like it’s asking for too much.

It’s a small complaint, I know. And it’s not one that would keep me away from a place.

But when the bartender, who was eating greasy fries at the time, wasn’t able to identify which Southern Tier specialty beer was on tap, I was more than a little surprised. And my disappointment grew as we discovered that the tap didn’t even seem to be connected. Or maybe the keg was kicked.

After trying in vain to find another beer of similar quality, I settled on Sam Adams Summer. I figured it would maybe at least be a newish keg, since it just turned spring. But the beer tasted like dirty beer lines.

Honestly, I didn’t think mentioning this fact would get me anywhere with the bartender, so I let it go. I wasn’t there for the beer. I was there for the deck and my book. But I never remember assholes out on the deck. Some dude was stomping on the deck and whistling across the parking lot to try and agitate some poor dog who was tied up on a leash. And ruining my quite time in the process.

Before the beautiful walk home, I wanted to wash up. Just so you know, I have a remarkably high tolerance for dirty bar bathrooms. But holy cow was that a dank, dark and vile place. It smelled like it had not been cleaned in days (if not weeks).

Never again may be strong words for an institution that I really cherish. Maybe it’s more fair to say I’m taking a break, and when I return they have one last shot of not being totally disgusting. Like I said, the bar is pretty low.

Let’s put that behind us, and move on.

Because sometimes the places you love can change for the better. And in the case of Ala Shanghai, I already thought they were the bees knees. There are the very small things that might go unnoticed, like better chopsticks at the tables. And then there are the very small things that actually improve the food.

I know it’s been far too long since I’ve been in there. But why didn’t anybody tell me? The skins on their soup dumplings have gotten thinner! Now, some may prefer the skins to be thinner still. However, I’m pleased as punch about the newfound delicacy of these little morsels.

Of course that means you have to be even more careful when eating them, and carefully load them into your soup spoon before nibbling a bite of dumpling to release some of the steam.

It could be my imagination, or the long absence I’ve had from the place could have made my heart grow fonder, but I would swear that the broth is also richer and more delicious than it was a year ago.

Lanny also wanted me to try his new seafood siu mai. He was explaining that people were coming in looking for dumplings without any pork in them at all. So in response he created these tender steamed pouches that are open on the top and tucked into a thin wrapper.

That was a great discovery. But the greatest discovery of them all is that both Young Mater Fussy and Little Miss Fussy are now gaga over soup dumplings. My little girl could also put away an entire order of scallion pancakes. And I’m sure we can find some other pork filled delights for the boy. Or maybe some of their soups. That kid loves some good soup.

But it has been the children’s reluctance to try new things that has kept me out of Ala Shanghai for so long. However, in one day it quickly became their favorite place in Albany. Now I can’t wait to get back there soon.