Cuyahoga

When I arrived at the Cleveland aeropuerto last Domingo, I moseyed downstairs and found the highly efficient taxi dispatch office with an eager attendant waiting to dash me off in any multitude of directions. Before I could finish stating my destination she handed me dos slips (one for me, one for the driver) with the address and a predetermined fare. Duly impressed, I had a pleasant drive with a friendly cabbie but when I handed him my card to pay there was no place to swipe it. In fact, he broke out the old carbon paper and made the imprint rubbing briskly with a tube of chapstick. I couldn't help but wonder if this was some type of metaphor for what was once the "foundry" region of our great nation. On one hand seeming to be at the forefront and on the other slouching into something obsolete. Progress and disrepair. Actually, I was just hoping my trip wouldn't blow. With that said, I am pleased to report that my feelings of angst were unjustified and that the city of Cleveland (although a non-freezing version) has been nothing short of remarkable. After my two day fill of museos and historic campuses, I took a long walk in the drizzle up through Murray Hill to Coventry Road anchor point of Pacific East Restaurante.

The sushi here was well worth the trek: Blue Fin toro (muy buttery), Tai, Aji, Hirame, and Unagi with a spicy Hamachi cut roll. Served with some cold sake this plato hit the spot, but wait (like the slogan of my hotel) in Cleveland you can "expect the unexpected". This place blindsided me with a bonus Malaysian menu, and a decent one at that. I intended to order more pescado but I took a break and asked the sushi chef for Roti Chanai instead, extrano no?

I love the crispy warmth of this dish: fried and flaky flat bread served with a hearty curry (con pollo and papas). This stuff would make an excellent daily desayuno if it wasn't equivalent (most unfortunately) to eating two grande donuts covered in meat sauce. Now I understand the lesson from the taxi ride. It wasn't so much an outdated inconvenience as it was a pleasant surprise. I mean that is probably the last time in my life I will witness a carbon copy used on a credit card. I wonder what happens next when I take the train towards Lake Erie to check out Johnny Cash's tour bus at the Rock Hall, thanks Cleveland.