Another Memorial Day weekend has come and gone, with the usual summery temperatures and unpredictable precipitation. This year the political climate added a new dimension to the change in seasons, and what used to be an assumed visit or two to Bratfest turned into choosing between any of three protest events in Madison.

I was out of town on Saturday, so Wurst Times and The People's Bratfest were out. But I'd staked myself to attending Alt-Bratfest during my totally-unexpected radio appearance, and even though the weather conspired against an outdoor festival, Kristine and I made the trip.

It was completely and wholly worth it. For $15, we shared two ample brats (Underground Kitchen and Merchant, though others were available) and a brat-seasoned pulled pork sandwich (Alchemy). A few cups of flavored tea, and we were won over. (My hope is that Joey Dunscombe and his fellow organizers stick with this one for next year; the one-and-done tease that was the Pork-Off was hard enough to get over.) It wasn't a strident protest, but in the midst of its success we were reminded of why we were there, and what we opposed in the giant effort across town at Willow Island.

In keeping with the fundamental purpose of the holiday, we stopped at Madison's Memorial Mile and made a donation. The Mile is an extremely effective installation designed to deliver the full impact of the losses we have sustained in our continued involvement in the war zones of Iraq and Afghanistan. I'm proud of Madison for displaying it, and for respecting it.

On Monday, we invited a dear friend who had to endure a beer-less cookout to our comfy patio for some brats and burgers. It was the best possible way to embrace the weather, and our modest level of prosperity, and the time we've been given to appreciate the good that we have in this country in spite of--and occasionally, because of--the bad.

As we gear up for recall elections and a long hot summer, the holiday weekend we just finished was the perfect prologue to kick off a reinvigoration of the palate, the mind, and the heart.

I just turned 33; it was no big deal. But mileposts are mileposts, and this one is as good as any to use as instigation to refresh my commitment to this blog. So I'm going to do my best, marshal my thoughts, and try to produce something worthwhile here again.
 
If you happen to follow me on Twitter--and also follow Wyndham Manning--you were treated to a far-too-long-for-the-medium conversation on Madison's bedeviled Overture Center for the Arts, the general arts scene in Madison, and how city government plays a role in fostering the growth of that scene. We ended the conversation with a friendly gauntlet-slap to produce a blog post on the subject in the near future. You'll find mine here; I have yet to determine where Wyndham does his blogging, but I'll be sure to give you a link once I do.
 
I'm sorry to say my time as a Top Chef recapper has probably come to a close. Not to say that I won't post thoughts on the empire as they come to me, but full recaps are a thing of the past, I suspect. It's just not an expenditure of time I can still support. But I'll see you all again soon, with something scintillating and fresh.
 
Or, just something. One or the other.

Don't ask me what happened in April (or why it's almost double-digits May for this post). It took me half the month to reconstruct my dining journal from memory, receipts, and online banking records. Something clicked off in my brain this month, and I just couldn't maintain any sort of attention span. (You may make your 4/20 joke here, if you'd like.)

My usual plan of attack is to find something to split the month into two general categories. While "What I remembered" and "What I had to look up" might work, it'd be an unnecessary and unintended slight on some of the places I needed assistance to remember. Instead, there's a more unfortunate division to April, one that does intend a certain critique.


What went wrong

Okay, "wrong" might still be too strong a chiding. Nothing got sent back, no sternly worded letters to the owner. But April saw many more disappointments than the usual month of Madison dining. Maharani's chilli chicken, a new dish for me, just didn't have what I want from Indian food (and I know, it's a bit of an oddball). Roman Candle's eponymous pie had a woody, stemmy banana pepper on almost every slice. While my first whitefish salad sandwich of the year at Gotham was amazing, the second was loaded with unnecessary (erroneously applied?) mayo. And I'm sorry, but is there a more overpriced--or slower--"fast" food experience in Madison than Michael's Frozen Custard?

The biggest slip-up of the month wasn't actually on my plate, but on the plates of friends around me. All of us were trying 43 North for the first time, and for brunch. The original chef has decamped for Chicago, and the former chef at Restaurant Magnus has taken his place. A great line of succession, but two plates of cold, nearly congealing bacon and a Cobb salad of far too many greens left members of our party wanting more. Others were much happier, but it was a surprisingly uneven experience.


What went right

A sumptuous feast of snacks at Graze--curds, truffle popcorn, charcuterie--kicked off the month, and that stuff was almost all good. (The cocktails, less so; let's say that Graze is falling far behind in a crowded field.) My two stops, the first two ever, at Atlantis Taverna were both great, even though the first was at the tail end of a wicked cold. And the eastsiders among you will want to hit up the morning bun at the new Heritage Bakery and Cafe, 'nuff said.

I lost my hubcap-sized pancake virginity at Cottage Cafe in April; loved it. And yes, there were PBR tacos at King and Mane. They're even starting to catch on--when a bunch of people in red show up, there will be PBR tacos for all. A trio of meals at Brasserie V over the course of the month were the dictionary definition of "what went right." Great beer, great staff, amazingly pink burgers and packed sandwiches.


The best thing I ate

Closing the previous section with Brasserie V is no accident. I loved my V Burger, the sweet and sour ramps alongside the seared black cod were terrific--but the Montrachet goat cheese tart with olives, roasted tomatoes, and greens was mind-bogglingly good. Creamy, smooth, rich but tart at the same time, and all framed by the lightest, butteriest crust you'll ever find. The morning bun from Heritage is really great, and my crispy pork belly with "Elvis" bread (peanuts and banana) and poached eggs at 43 North was something new and kind of amazing.

But that goat cheese tart was symphonic, something to remember.