Dining Out

Rita & I recently joined our friends Joe & Paul in an excursion to a one-of-a-kind restaurant. It was no accident that we ended up at this particular restaurant because the foodies in the group (hint: not me or Joe) have been stalking this place for years. All it took was the Great Recession and voila – reservations are available to the common folk.

This restaurant is apparently famous (fame being relative, of course) for pioneering new ways of preparing and serving food in the most extravagant aesthetic way possible. By way of context – if Rube Goldberg were still alive, he would be in charge of table service. For example, one course was served on a pillow. That’s right – a pillow. But wait, there’s more. A pillow filled with lavender-infused air. As the pillow deflated, lavender escaped and mingled with your rhubarb sorbet. Are you freakin kidding me?? (The waiter did NOT appreciate my comparison to a “pot-pourri satchel who’s fragrance would enhance your entire underwear drawer”.)

The steak course (and by course, I mean 2 inch square of wagyu beef) was presented alongside a ceramic vase­ on the table containing dry ice and herbs. When our waiter added the water to the centerpiece, clouds of rosemary-infused smoke began erupting from the vase and cascading onto the floor. And I mean ALL over the floor. Between our particular table of patrons and the billowy smoke effects, we were one Donna Summer song away from official gay-bar designation.

The presentation of each course seemed to escalate throughout the night until I was certain the last course was going to be shot out of a dessert cannon from the kitchen (I was NOT that far off).

I find it challenging enough to deal with any food that isn't served in its own wrapper. If you provide a course inverted on its head, suspended over a soup bowl or dangling off a wire – you better expect some tablecloth casualties from the food “day-brie” that will go flying around me. (Obviously “aethestics” do not call for low-centers-of-gravity that might otherwise assist when Lucy Ricardo’s bumbling cousin comes to dinner). By the second course, the restaurant had allocated one whole server to nothing but my spillages.

And the topper…Rita bought the cookbook.

Is Sarah Palin Breaking Up with Us?

Sarah, don’t do it. I still have two more months ‘til football starts and I need SOMETHING to read on the internet during all those conference calls. Surely it will take more than one rambling, incoherent resignation speech to stop the juggernaut of Caribou Barbie.

Have you honestly seen any other failed VP candidate cause this kind of a stir? Lloyd Bentsen lived to be 105 and never accumulated this much publicity. (My apologies to Lloyd Bentsen if he’s actually still alive – but it would underscore my point.)

Actually, in this particular episode of Northern Exposure – it's the pundits and professionals that are the most fun to watch. People who would otherwise be in President McCain’s cabinet right now are busy engaging in an especially catty episode of Gossip Girl all over the pages of Vanity Fair magazine. Bloggers have started a “Shoe Watch” in anticipation of the rest of the story. And Sarah Palin is alternatively “crazy like a fox” or “one nutty buddy” depending on whether you lean Wall Street Journal or New York Times.

I read the text of her resignation speech which…I swear…contained 17 exclamation points and 2 smiley faces. As Gail Collins wrote: “Truly, Sarah Palin has come a long way. When she ran for vice president, she frequently became disjointed and garbled when she departed from her prepared remarks. Now the prepared remarks are incoherent, too.”

But me? I couldn’t help but feel inspired to “effect positive change outside government at this point in time on another scale and actually make a difference for our priorities.”

Oh, Sarah…I can’t quit you.

Cooking Class Part II

So the class that I gave Rita for her birthday was all Vietnamese cooking. Mostly I picked this class because I thought it included sake (turns out sake isn’t Vietnamese after all…).

I expected the teacher to be a little Asian woman. Imagine my surprise when we were met by the whitest 2nd whitest woman in San Diego. She immediately had my sympathy because would you want to be the one to teach cooking to Rita (or worse…her trusty sidekick Papa John)? I knew when she passed around the scrapbook of her recent visit to Vietnam that we were in for a long night.

My key takeaway from the Vietnamese cooking class is this:
A good cook in Vietnam only buys live animals because then they know how their meat stock died.

I don’t know about you…but to me…the sign of any good meal is its dependence on an autopsy. And my friends want to know why I don’t want to join them on their next trip to Vietnam. [“That steak looks lovely – but how was it feeling the day before it died?”]. You know…”eat what you kill” has a MUCH better connotation in the consulting world.

The other valuable tidbits I took away about Vietnamese cooking:

• Fish sauce lasts forever [ummmm….so do Twinkies? Do we know how the fish in this sauce died?]
• Fish sauce is the Vietnamese equivalent of ketchup [smelly, sticky, nuclear-winter survivin’ ketchup]
• If it takes forever to fry your crispy noodles, than your oil is too cold [For this I went to class?]

And my BIGGEST takeaway from the TV-like cooking show…it’s a lot easier to be a great cook when someone else cuts everything up for you. Unfortunately, Rita learned the same thing =(

Cooking Class

I didn’t blog during the height of the birthday season…but that doesn’t mean I didn’t take notes. Specifically, I took some notes on the cooking class that I signed Rita and I up for as one of Rita’s birthday gifts. [Can I just say….if we are talking about me going to a cooking class…than my presence REALLY IS my present]

The class is taught in the back of a cooking store and is a complete racket. You walk into a TV-studio-worthy kitchen with its giant island and three stoves and 8 burners and every single participant says “I could sooo have this kitchen.” So the class is only the loss-leader to steer you towards the store’s remodeling services.

There were also about a dozen TV screens situated all over the “classroom”. I was all excited because I thought we were going to class in an upscale sports bar. Turns out the TVs are all trained to the teacher’s every move. Rita looked mortified when I asked if someone could turn the fridgecam to Jon Stewart for the husbands in the room. (I might go for the remodeled kitchen if it comes with 8 flat-screen TVs….and the NFL Ticket…just sayin’).

The nice thing about cooking class is that you can take lots of notes for your blog and people just think you’re writing down recipes. Which is why you should tune in tomorrow when I give you the highlights of Vietnamese cooking.

You Should Watch This...

I've got nothing to post today...so i thought i would link to one of my friends who has a HILARIOUS stand-up routine. This is an excerpt of her debutante bit in her routine...it is excellent:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=spwj937C5HM

Check it out.

What's in the News These Days?

News coverage of celebrity deaths has become a cottage industry, hasn’t it? I can only imagine the number of LA residents whose full time job involves listening to police scanners all day, trying to recapture the magic that was Anna Nicole Smith.

At least the coverage since Michael Jackson died last Thursday hasn’t been THAT over the top (all things being relative). I was in the San Diego airport [shocker] watching CNN spend the first 30 minutes of their coverage running nonsensical footage of an entry gate while a trailer across the bottom of the screen indicated that “media outlets are reporting Michael Jackson’s death”….ummm, YOU’RE a media outlet, CNN. I don’t think you get to hedge your bets on this death thing just in case Michael Jackson turns out to be in the back of an ambulance with Dr. Phil. I mean…you’re CNN for chrissakes…not a blog.

Upon final confirmation, CNN immediately cut to Al Sharpton giving a presser in Harlem. Seriously? I know Michael Jackson had his issues, but I think he deserves better than Al Sharpton as an official spokesperson. Besides, just because you’re black and crazy doesn’t mean you get to speak for all black and....eccentric.

But it was no more than 11 minutes after he died, and CNN had a 400 word obituary up on their website. I know they pre-write these things for the next most likely candidates, but Michael Jackson? Does Miley Cyrus know her obituary is already written?

I bet the only person in America who really wants more of this Jackson coverage is Mark Sanford.

Summer Hours

I am back blogging again...but I have negotiated a Jon Stewart-like schedule - Monday through Thursdays with Friday's off. So tune in tomorrow when I don't air a re-run.