Walls are for Climbing, Lofts are for Drinking

For the last few years, I've been taking my little girl to a climbing wall in San Jose called Touchstone. It's been great fun; at home, she climbs the walls… couch… me… so she's a natural here. She gains great confidence and incredible pride when she gets to the top. And, it's a nice daddy-daughter bonding experience. When I first started taking her though, my idea was that it was something we could do together. In college I used to climb a lot, (at least until someone dropped me on an inverted ascent and I couldn't walk for 3 months or climb for a year), and I thought this would be a chance to get back into it. Unfortunately that never worked out, since when we go together, it's about HER climbing and not me. There really is no opportunity for me to climb when we're together. But that's fine.

So I decided to go last night on my own for the first time. First time bouldering or climbing in well over 10 years. Wow. But what fun. Of course, I have zero strength left. Where I used to be able to fist lock into a crag and literally hang there indefinitely, last night I realized that muscle failure can and will occur after some pretty simply finger grips. But so what, it was fun. And I'll go back.

So, props to Touchstone. Great place. Great people. Great fun.

Then for dinner I decided to try a place in San Jose I've been wanting to try for a while, called LOFT. The sign on the door is something like LOFTBARANDBISTRO in some clever typographic way. It's a cute, trendy looking place from the outside, and it advertises a martini bar. Cue class for San Jose.

Unfortunately the bartender (on the ground floor bar at least) wasn't that interested in making a good martini. Maybe that's not fair, but you decide. It's not like the place was busy… the three piece jazz band that would start playing in 15 minutes was enjoying a beer at the bar. The only other guy in the place was someone who looked like they just walked off a construction site and was enjoying a cold Corona. I asked if he could make a Vesper martini. He said "hmm, haven't made one of those in years…". I asked if he had Lilet Blanc, he said no. OK then, no Vesper for me.

A Vesper martini, by the way, is my new favorite drink. It's the James Bond original martini, from the book (and movie) Casino Royale. It's fantastic, and goes like this:

• 3 ounces gin
• 1 ounce vodka
• ½ ounce Lillet Blanc
• Shake ingredients with ice in a cocktail shaker and strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a slice of lemon peel.

Anyway, so no Vesper. I ask to see a martini menu. He hands one over but shrugs and says "all the best recipes are up here", tapping on his oddly partially shaved head. So I say, "then what would you recomm…". Before I can finish the thought he starts reading from the ceiling a list of all the sweet martini type drinks, and I can't get a word into his ramble… Lemon Drop, Cosmo but I would like something Chocolate, but you know the Vesper isn't sweet so Keylime, Peach, seriously, hello? I don't want a Appletini, Rasberry *sigh*.

So I finally order a dirty martini, made with Level vodka. He proceeds to put so much olive juice in it I could hear the olives screaming for some back. The martini is as sweet as a Lemon Drop. Then the bartender proceeded to get back to his conversation on his Sidekick. Oh, and $10 seems a bit much for a Martini in San Jose. This isn't Manhattan for f'sake.

So much for a Martini Bar. I so wanted to find a good one, too.

I ate there as well. I asked if the salmon was fresh or frozen. They said fresh. Quite sure it was frozen. I asked for grilled veggies instead of steamed. They came steamed. I asked again, the waitress came back and explained that the veggies were partially blanched ahead of time and so all they could do is maybe try to sauté them a bit. Mmmm, partially pre-blanched carrots and beans. I don't think Anthony Bourdain would be impressed. To be fair by the time I got my pre-blanched, lightly sautéed veggies they were decent. At least they were crisp, if not bland. But honestly, not the experience I was expecting from a supposedly trendy hot spot in San Jose.

Come on San Jose… you can do better than that!