As I mentioned in this post, trying to cover 6 Kansas City neighborhoods in one month turned out to be more than I could do. One of the casualties was downtown near the Missouri River, where I spent perhaps 1 day, or a day and a half, if I count my brief visit to the Power and Light District.
I wore what I thought were walking shoes, but my feet were killing me after an hour, which shortened my walkabout.
An article in Tastebud magazine led me to the Farmhouse, a block west of Main on Delaware.
It’s a lunch/brunch place divided into two long high-ceilinged rooms. The bar side, where I sat, had old wooden floors and black tables and was pretty empty on a weekday, but more tables were full in the other room.
I ordered the fall squash salad, which came with local butternut squash and pear, and spinach from Door-to-Door Organics, a Pennsylvania CSA-by-delivery company that has a warehouse in downtown Kansas City and also serves Colorado, Michigan, and the East Coast. The walnuts, blue cheese, and maple-sage vinaigrette were not local.
This salad was much better than a similar one I had at Le Central this year. The blue cheese was cool but firm, instead of sticky, and the salad was fresh and tumbled instead of carefully laid out. The dressing complemented the squash, although I would have liked twice as much of the latter.
As I left, I got directions to the Missouri River path, just one block north and one block east. The short walk gave me a chance to admire the brick buildings remade as lofts. At 1st and Main white irises were blooming as I headed toward the bridge to the river. Walking out scared me, but I was rewarded with this view. 
And this one coming back. 
At 3rd and Main I found the City Market, where people have been buying and selling since the 1850s at least.
The U-shaped building holds Al-Habashi Mart, a Mediterranean grocery, as well as Christina’s Produce, Global Produce, and even KC Produce, where I found carrots from Colorado. Those in search of prepared food can dine at Hien Vuong Vietnamese Restaurant, Tikka House Indian Restaurant, Winslow’s City Market BBQ, Blue Nile Ethiopian Restaurant, and Bo Ling’s Chinese Restaurant. Dos Hombres is up the street, and the Vietnam Café is at 5th and Campbell.
Inside, near Bo Ling’s, is a mini-museum detailing the history of the River Market neighborhood. It was in decline for much of the twentieth century, but revitalization efforts from the 1980s to the present have made it more attractive to homebuyers.
The best time to visit the City Market is Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday, during the year-round farmers’ markets. If you have time, you can check out the Steamboat Arabia museum across the street as well. I went there two years ago to see all the cargo that they dug out of the wreck (whose resting site had become a farm field).
As all good walkabouts must, mine led me to a bakery. I might not have noticed Babycakes but for the professional photographer and his assistant holding a reflector. And then I saw the sign
and scooted past them to get the peanut-butter-and-chocolate cupcake you see on top.
You know what? It made my feet feel better.
across the street from Ponak’s. My friend and I sat on the roof, even though it was a breezy night in November, and the tequila master came out and helped me choose a tequila. The one he recommended, Clase Azul blanco, surprised me. I usually prefer aged tequila, but this blanco was really smooth.
my favorite was the carne asada (left), which was spicy and a little burnt, followed by a tasty taco al pastor (right), and then the taco marinera, which had a sweet and spicy sauce. The fish was cooked properly, but the entire package didn’t come together for me.
We visited several galleries, including Blue Gallery, where a 
and an anemone by Margie McDonald;
and Kemper Gallery, where the minders in shockingly blue shirts reminded me of the line from Firefly or Serenity (I can’t remember which), “Two by two, hands of blue.”
“I’m seeing a really advanced form of tagging here.”
I liked the self-conscious, playful aspects of their work.
Turns out it’s a great way to get a weapon across state lines.
(The California, Oregon, and Santa Fe trails all run through this area and meet up along Antioch at Santa Fe in Kansas.) There’s a “Westport Landing” sign in the neighborhood along Westport Road (about 39th Street), but the real landing is downtown, where Grand Avenue runs into the Missouri River.
By the time I left at 6, it was full. I was more interested in the wine list than the 150 beers available, 
partly because it offered varietals I didn’t know, such as Nero d’Avola (Sicily), Spatburgunder (Germany), Magnificat (a California Meritage), and Monestrell (I swear that was the spelling, but Google has Monastrell/Mourvedre). I tasted the Nero (tannic and a bit sour) but ultimately settled on the Juan Gil 2008 from Jumilla, Spain, which reminded me of a Pietraluna Negramaro I had at the now-closed Pulcinella in Lafayette, Colorado.
It was scrumptious: greasy and juicy, crisp on the outside and pink inside. Although I couldn’t taste the mustard aioli, I did enjoy the truffle butter and watercress and port wine onions. I even ate the entire pickle.
It was busy, as you would expect on a Saturday mid-morning, and we had to wait. We spent the time catching up on work and home lives.
One Saturday night in high school, my friends and I collected all the change we could from the fountains on the Plaza. It was illegal, but we didn’t get caught. We used the money to buy a meal at Denny’s.
still serves square steakburger patties on a round bun, 
cherry limeades, and Skyscraper Shakes big enough for four. (Winstead’s was originally founded in Springfield, Illinois, but I don’t think that store exists anymore.)
Hard to believe it used to be a swamp before the Plaza was built in 1922, isn’t it?
hoping to spend several hours there copyediting. Unfortunately, Mildred’s, a well-lit space with a soothing vibe, closed at 4. 
One cannot live on truffles and mocha breve, much as one might wish to, so I chose YJ’s Snack Bar as my dinner stop. (Mildred’s has a small but enticing menu. I suggest going there for lunch.)
you have to turn sideways and sidle by the people at the bar.
Later I wished I’d skipped the ravioli and had more salad, but everything tasted fine and it filled me up.
(named after the multicolored Power and Light Building in downtown Kansas City, north of Crossroads). One of the staff at Peruvian Connection lamented the city’s decision to pour a lot of money into Power and Light. City council brought in chains, she said, nothing related to Kansas City, and drove up real estate values so much that artists couldn’t afford studio space in Crossroads. According to her, they’re migrating to the West Bottoms, northwest of Crossroads, nearer the Missouri River.
but I liked the look of the buildings, and there were actually people strolling the streets (apparently, after I took this picture). A band was setting up in a large courtyard. It wasn’t crowded since there wasn’t a show at the Sprint Center, but I felt more comfortable walking around there than in Crossroads or downtown.
and 2 gelato flavors (the lemon curd had a lovely subtle flavor, like a mild lemon cake). All are made in-house, and sometimes the chocolatier’s sons help.
Waldo Coffeehouse used to be in that location but closed a couple of years ago. It was at One More Cup that I decided Kansas City coffeehouses are more innovative than those in Denver. (Remember the 
No one flavor dominated, and it was really easy to drink.
on Tuesday, the crowd was all ages. When we first arrived, I went up to the deck to see if were could eat up there, but it was too cold (the picture here is from Monday night). We slid into a booth inside, where I was able to watch tennis over my sister’s head, and she could watch baseball. It was pretty busy for early in the week, and the music was loud. We talked about my plans for a location independent future. I got the impression she thought I was about to leave Todd and start gallivanting around the globe, which is not exactly what I had in mind.
with smoked salmon on top that wasn’t all that smoky, black beans, corn, etc. My sister’s Broadway salad had cranberries and blue cheese and nuts, I think; I can’t read the menu on Urbanspoon.
I saw a T-shirt on the wall that read, “Staff so friendly you’ll think they’re faking it,” but my server obviously hadn’t read it. I left her a dollar tip and felt that might be too generous.
and the filet tips and the mushroom Cabreles. The ceviche was fish-forward: I couldn’t taste lime or cilantro, which were supposed to be seasoning the lobster, shrimp, crab, and tomatoes. But it was refreshing against the marvelous grilled ciabatta. The filet was wonderful;
I loved the blue cheese taste of the sauce and the silkiness of the meat.
It made me feel like the queen of bacon-gooeyness. When I had the leftovers for lunch today, they were still good. But I would not call this dish subtle. Is there such a thing as a subtle schnitzel?
and the German apple cake, similar to carrot cake. 
As we drove home, I wondered if it were responsible of me to feed my elderly father so much food. But other than an occasional complaint about how full he was, he didn’t seem to mind.
when it should have been more like the ceviche mentioned above. And the roasted tomato and chicken risotto with prosciutto and asparagus was to risotto
what this blurry picture is to photography. It lacked the density of risottos I’ve had, in which the rice was a match for the sauce rather than drowning in it. I did enjoy the fluffy crab and shrimp cakes
but not their too-sweet sauce, which my friend said tasted like Miracle Whip. I’ve never had that (at least, not willingly), so I don’t know how it tastes.
Bella Bridesmaid, the Clock Shop, Ward and Ward Custom Picture Framing, Brookside Antiques, and J’Adore (European antiques and interiors). Of all those, the framing store was open and, happily, the Oak Street Coffee Shop.
The barista, who said she was new, made me a hot chocolate with Hershey’s syrup and then said I should tell her if I wanted more chocolate. Since it tasted like hot, weak chocolate milk, I did. (Hot chocolate varies so much in quality from one coffeehouse to another that I’m thinking of going back to coffee.) After I ensconced myself with Marie Claire in a corner to read all about Hilary Swank, a woman came in to buy the rest of their rich, dark, chocolate cake.
On the way out, I was still stopping to look at jackets and scarves and purses. Shop Girls is a great place.
When I ordered the Alexander Valley Chardonnay and lobster ravioli with brandy and lobster butter cream, the bartender brought me a white napkin, folded into a triangle, to use as a placemat. “Everyone gets one,” she said, assuring me that she didn’t think I was a slob. The wine glowed yellow-gray and tasted of citrus followed by something softer and smoother, perhaps the vanilla and caramel mentioned on the menu. I liked the irregular shape of the ravioli and the delicate flavor of lobster. The ravioli were firm, but I would have appreciated more, perhaps even crunchiness.
On my first trip with my sister, I ordered a beautiful latte and a red velvet cupcake. 
This time, it was an Americano and a chocolate mini-cupcake.
in which to indulge his coffee-jones, and people seem to like it.