The Law of Averages dictates that life has a way of balancing itself out.
For the past five years (as per August 2009), I will have been laid up here in the ol' town of New York proper. It was ok for the first year. Then I fell face-flat into the proverbial gutter that is lovingly known as New York Shitty. For the past three years, I've been scratching and scraping and gripping and pulling myself out of what has been a massive awakening and growth spurt (that's what she said).
As I sit here, in my own office (the door says so), listening to my musical choosings (Radiohead, naturally), and excited about being able to remain living in one spot for over a year and one month (which was my record until my couch-surfing and temp-living two year stint), which has now been SIXTEEN months!!!, and resigning the lease in July with none other than C-dub, and the upward mobility I am currently climbing, I'd like to sit back and graciously entertain gratitude.
But the little voice that talks to the little boy that lives in my throat tells me that this is to balance out the past. Pondering the reprocussions of future balancing-acts is like searching for meaning in a Pauly Shore movie.
To pay tribute to the universal powers that be, I promise to wear less pants at parties and dance on table tops more oftener.
6.19.2009
Friday rap up
Currently listening to The Sea and Cake's An Echo In.
Great song.
Been enjoying The Meeting Places' Freeze Our Stares. Lovely song.
Speaking of partytime, tonight I take it upon myself to reconcot (a la last last Spring's punch-infused party at my pad) and rename Hop, Skip, and Go Naked punch as Haterade. Because, let's face it, it just makes sense.
Vitamin Water has two new flavours that I was otherwise unawares of: Sync and Tranquilo. Sync is probably one of the better-tasting, sans-medicinal-aftertasting VWs ON THE MARKET.
Not so good: Tostito's Brand Creamy Spinach Dip.
Most disappointing event of June 2009: Finding that KFC's Grilled Chicken is nasty. Given my watering mouth at the news that its flavoured with beef!, it nevertheless angered, struck me, and ulitmately left me in stomach pain in the company john.
Great song.
Been enjoying The Meeting Places' Freeze Our Stares. Lovely song.
Speaking of partytime, tonight I take it upon myself to reconcot (a la last last Spring's punch-infused party at my pad) and rename Hop, Skip, and Go Naked punch as Haterade. Because, let's face it, it just makes sense.
Vitamin Water has two new flavours that I was otherwise unawares of: Sync and Tranquilo. Sync is probably one of the better-tasting, sans-medicinal-aftertasting VWs ON THE MARKET.
Not so good: Tostito's Brand Creamy Spinach Dip.
Most disappointing event of June 2009: Finding that KFC's Grilled Chicken is nasty. Given my watering mouth at the news that its flavoured with beef!, it nevertheless angered, struck me, and ulitmately left me in stomach pain in the company john.
6.08.2009
Family Staycation
So my little sister, brother, brother-in-law, and niece came up from the Land of Enchantment to stay with me and see the place I now call home/workplace, otherwise known as the Land of Expense.
Day 1: New York Pizza night, the family...impressed. New to garlic knots.
Day 2: Grand Central Station and Times Square. Dinner at Dressler. I implore you to have their pork chop because its placed atop the most heavenly slice of bacon you'll ever encounter.
Day 3: The Guggenheim and Central Park. My niece wasn't too keen on the quietly walking around rule of art museum going.
Day 4: ALL DAY BBQ at my pad. If you missed it, you missed it. My niece said it was the most fun she had had in NYC at that point. I had had to agree.
Day 5: I had to stay in and sleep cause kids are tiring, y'all. They went to Staten Island via the ferry and the WTC.
Day 6: The one thing my niece was looking forward to seeing in NYC (besides me)...the Statue of Liberty. It is pretty cool to see up close and not through the slew of tourists on the starboard side of the SI Ferry.
Day 7: Rainy day in. Chinese food and Scattergories...family time is way underrated.
Day 8: The Natural History Museum and the DOVES! Dinosaurs and some rock'n'roll ain't so bad, yo!
Day 9: Rainy Day # 2, movies and chit-chat and naptime. Dinner at My Moon...always an excellent destination. The latino boys are so sweet and the mussels are awesome. Try the lamb chop...decadent. If at this point you're at all like my niece, she too refuses to eat foods with eyes...unless they're chickens. Cause as we all know, chickens have as much soul as pigeons do.
Day 10: Last day to revel in family time at Coney Island. I got some much needed sun, my niece got some much needed sand everywhere, and my sister got injured on the Cyclone. All in all, one of the best days I have ever had in NYC in the past five years of being here.
Day 11: I wake up to a quiet, empty apartment and they made it home safely. My niece made me promise to see her on the holidays. If you got to meet her, yes...you are a better person for it.
Day 12: Didn't realize that today is still a vacation day until halfway through it. Damn.
Day 1: New York Pizza night, the family...impressed. New to garlic knots.
Day 2: Grand Central Station and Times Square. Dinner at Dressler. I implore you to have their pork chop because its placed atop the most heavenly slice of bacon you'll ever encounter.
Day 3: The Guggenheim and Central Park. My niece wasn't too keen on the quietly walking around rule of art museum going.
Day 4: ALL DAY BBQ at my pad. If you missed it, you missed it. My niece said it was the most fun she had had in NYC at that point. I had had to agree.
Day 5: I had to stay in and sleep cause kids are tiring, y'all. They went to Staten Island via the ferry and the WTC.
Day 6: The one thing my niece was looking forward to seeing in NYC (besides me)...the Statue of Liberty. It is pretty cool to see up close and not through the slew of tourists on the starboard side of the SI Ferry.
Day 7: Rainy day in. Chinese food and Scattergories...family time is way underrated.
Day 8: The Natural History Museum and the DOVES! Dinosaurs and some rock'n'roll ain't so bad, yo!
Day 9: Rainy Day # 2, movies and chit-chat and naptime. Dinner at My Moon...always an excellent destination. The latino boys are so sweet and the mussels are awesome. Try the lamb chop...decadent. If at this point you're at all like my niece, she too refuses to eat foods with eyes...unless they're chickens. Cause as we all know, chickens have as much soul as pigeons do.
Day 10: Last day to revel in family time at Coney Island. I got some much needed sun, my niece got some much needed sand everywhere, and my sister got injured on the Cyclone. All in all, one of the best days I have ever had in NYC in the past five years of being here.
Day 11: I wake up to a quiet, empty apartment and they made it home safely. My niece made me promise to see her on the holidays. If you got to meet her, yes...you are a better person for it.
Day 12: Didn't realize that today is still a vacation day until halfway through it. Damn.
5.28.2009
More meat!
After several steaks and several more to come, I will take a brief hiatus until after next week's DOVES concert on June 4th!!
At that time, I will be far more relaxed, refreshed and revacationed with family fun and, of course, meat!
At that time, I will be far more relaxed, refreshed and revacationed with family fun and, of course, meat!
5.19.2009
Verbal assualts and cheeseburgers
Earlier this fine and beautiful spring day, I was approached by an enraged parent today in the Manhattan Supreme Court.
My findings have been, in theory and practice for the past nine years, that parents are a far more contributing factor to criminal activity than almost anything else...including substance abuse and/or mental health. The Trifecta of Doom, if you will, makes for quite the lovely client to work with.
Well, for whatever reason, he thought I fucked his kid over in court somehow...albeit I am the one trying to get him out of going to prison altogether. As he starts rifling through his cheap bag for what I suspect to be a smuggled murder weapon under epitaphs about my fuckhood as a motherfucker, the attorney on the case gave me those stunned, oh-no-what-did-I-walk-in-on eyes that only your mother can give you as an adolescent boy locked in the bathroom for an inordinate amount of time.
At which point, my craving for a bacon cheeseburger and a cold, stiff one was illuminated by that fact that not only did I aptly deserve them, but would have them, and promptly.
And have them I did. At a lovely, little Financial District joint called the White Horse Tavern.
*Tomorrow I chair a presentation to upwards of 300 of the Bronx County's best criminal defenders on how to get their clients out of Rikers Island as quickly as legally possible. Apparently, the Swine Flu doens't make the ticket.
My findings have been, in theory and practice for the past nine years, that parents are a far more contributing factor to criminal activity than almost anything else...including substance abuse and/or mental health. The Trifecta of Doom, if you will, makes for quite the lovely client to work with.
Well, for whatever reason, he thought I fucked his kid over in court somehow...albeit I am the one trying to get him out of going to prison altogether. As he starts rifling through his cheap bag for what I suspect to be a smuggled murder weapon under epitaphs about my fuckhood as a motherfucker, the attorney on the case gave me those stunned, oh-no-what-did-I-walk-in-on eyes that only your mother can give you as an adolescent boy locked in the bathroom for an inordinate amount of time.
At which point, my craving for a bacon cheeseburger and a cold, stiff one was illuminated by that fact that not only did I aptly deserve them, but would have them, and promptly.
And have them I did. At a lovely, little Financial District joint called the White Horse Tavern.
*Tomorrow I chair a presentation to upwards of 300 of the Bronx County's best criminal defenders on how to get their clients out of Rikers Island as quickly as legally possible. Apparently, the Swine Flu doens't make the ticket.
5.12.2009
Let them eat, drink, and be merry...
In a couple weeks, I'm hosting a small soiree for my surrogate parents. The menu includes, though unlimited to: spicy shrimp kababs, grilled and bloody steaks, and baked potatoes with all the fixin's. Sometimes a good, ol' fashioned dinner is where the heart is.
The apertif: The Mortoni
Makes 1 drink
Ice
1 part vodka
1 part Campari
1 part tonic water
1 lime wedge
1 orange wedge
2 lemon wedges
Fill a rocks glass and a cocktail shaker with ice. Add the vodka and Campari to the shaker and shake vigorously. Strain into the glass, top with the tonic water, and squeeze the juice from the lime and orange wedges and 1 of the lemon wedges into the drink. Garnish with the remaining lemon wedge and serve.
(Recipe from Mix Shake Stir (Little, Brown))
THEN ITS EAT MEAT TIMEY TIME!
The apertif: The Mortoni
Makes 1 drink
Ice
1 part vodka
1 part Campari
1 part tonic water
1 lime wedge
1 orange wedge
2 lemon wedges
Fill a rocks glass and a cocktail shaker with ice. Add the vodka and Campari to the shaker and shake vigorously. Strain into the glass, top with the tonic water, and squeeze the juice from the lime and orange wedges and 1 of the lemon wedges into the drink. Garnish with the remaining lemon wedge and serve.
(Recipe from Mix Shake Stir (Little, Brown))
THEN ITS EAT MEAT TIMEY TIME!
5.08.2009
Tight pants
and loose morals it is.
The weekend fast approaches and if this week has taught us anything, its that there's nothing to die for and that there's everything to live for.
I made that up. Sorta... Its quite silly if I say so myself.
Not so silly, cervezas. That's right, not beers...cervezas. My love of South-of-the-Border beers has been reinvigorated since my trip to Juarez, Cuidad de Suenos, back in 20 dickity 2. Its really a magical place, full of pan-handling ninos, shady puntas (not a bad word, just don't call your mom that), $2 nachos, and $0.25 Dos Equis. Yeah. It was also blazingly hot. And my troop got to see passed out hobo-penis.
All in all, its a lot like New York, just cheaper and stickier.
The weekend fast approaches and if this week has taught us anything, its that there's nothing to die for and that there's everything to live for.
I made that up. Sorta... Its quite silly if I say so myself.
Not so silly, cervezas. That's right, not beers...cervezas. My love of South-of-the-Border beers has been reinvigorated since my trip to Juarez, Cuidad de Suenos, back in 20 dickity 2. Its really a magical place, full of pan-handling ninos, shady puntas (not a bad word, just don't call your mom that), $2 nachos, and $0.25 Dos Equis. Yeah. It was also blazingly hot. And my troop got to see passed out hobo-penis.
All in all, its a lot like New York, just cheaper and stickier.
5.05.2009
Existential Crisis in a Footnote
Have you noticed that it's Existential Crisis Month? Buy your own Existential Crisis flowers/booze/uppers/downers/brunch?
Everyone I know is on edge, for one monumental reason or another, including myself, (being the common denominator). Which is even more harrowing because I'd rather carry the weight than be mine own.
Creation, destruction. Destruction, creation. Or not. It's really shittysweet and altogether romanticized. Like Space. Its supposed to be this large void with purpose and potential...but really, its a large void. Nothing. And yet everything.
Yeah...toldya!
Dinner on the last night: pastrami & bacon w/ cheddar, lettuce, tomato, mayo, and Boar's Head Deli Dressing on a fancy roll...it's a deli sangwich and I did it myself!
Currently listening to: Throw Me The Statue's "Yucatan Gold."
Currently awaiting: Farady's comeuppance and LC's demise.
Wearing: gray pinstripe slacks, periwinkle blue button-up, my favourite Hugo Boss skinny tie, black grandpa cardigan, and my ol' faithful brown wingtips.
Avoiding: work until 7pm.
Everyone I know is on edge, for one monumental reason or another, including myself, (being the common denominator). Which is even more harrowing because I'd rather carry the weight than be mine own.
Creation, destruction. Destruction, creation. Or not. It's really shittysweet and altogether romanticized. Like Space. Its supposed to be this large void with purpose and potential...but really, its a large void. Nothing. And yet everything.
Yeah...toldya!
Dinner on the last night: pastrami & bacon w/ cheddar, lettuce, tomato, mayo, and Boar's Head Deli Dressing on a fancy roll...it's a deli sangwich and I did it myself!
Currently listening to: Throw Me The Statue's "Yucatan Gold."
Currently awaiting: Farady's comeuppance and LC's demise.
Wearing: gray pinstripe slacks, periwinkle blue button-up, my favourite Hugo Boss skinny tie, black grandpa cardigan, and my ol' faithful brown wingtips.
Avoiding: work until 7pm.
5.02.2009
Spring has sprang...
The birds are alive with chitter-chatter, the flowers are blossoming onions, the days are partyly cloudy and musty with with the damp hints of summer and winter...oh, and the kids are fucking annoying.
That means its Springtime, y'all!
Therefore and thusly, is it ok to wear flip-flops with a cardigan?
I say yes. Yes indeed.
Whilst I wait around for some fellow sans-homebodys today to hit up the local flea markets and stoop sales, I download some musics.
Any suggestiones?
That means its Springtime, y'all!
Therefore and thusly, is it ok to wear flip-flops with a cardigan?
I say yes. Yes indeed.
Whilst I wait around for some fellow sans-homebodys today to hit up the local flea markets and stoop sales, I download some musics.
Any suggestiones?
4.27.2009
The Art of Hosting a Day in the Sun
5 pitchers of Tequila-infused punch.
Hint: once the Triple Sec and Orange Cognac are depleted, mix with lemonade.
2 Bowlfuls of fresh, best-guacamole-to-date. Serve with tortilla chips.
Cheesy snacks, and conversation.
Marinate chicken and rip apart once blackened.
Turn the music up as the day wears on.
Eat a hot dog if you see one unattended.
Drink water because the sun (and tequila) has beat it out of you.
Massages!
Nightcap it with chinese food and gummie bears.
Serves 20.
Hint: once the Triple Sec and Orange Cognac are depleted, mix with lemonade.
2 Bowlfuls of fresh, best-guacamole-to-date. Serve with tortilla chips.
Cheesy snacks, and conversation.
Marinate chicken and rip apart once blackened.
Turn the music up as the day wears on.
Eat a hot dog if you see one unattended.
Drink water because the sun (and tequila) has beat it out of you.
Massages!
Nightcap it with chinese food and gummie bears.
Serves 20.
4.20.2009
The Art of Self-Grounding
It's rough. But sometimes man, you just gotta do it. Turn off the cell phone. Log off the net. Listen to some solemn jams and not hear another human voice until your roommate warns you about the smoking steak he has on the stove on a cool Sunday night.
It's good for you because a) you benefit from some serious self-reflection and b)watch some weird cable movies you otherwise wouldn't see.
I did get out and enjoy the first true days of Spring 2009, i.e. backyard. But more importantly, I did some drawerings. Which I oft used to do, but gave up in a blind search for immediate satisfactions.
Go arts.
It's good for you because a) you benefit from some serious self-reflection and b)watch some weird cable movies you otherwise wouldn't see.
I did get out and enjoy the first true days of Spring 2009, i.e. backyard. But more importantly, I did some drawerings. Which I oft used to do, but gave up in a blind search for immediate satisfactions.
Go arts.
4.16.2009
Where is my tattoo?
Unfortunately, other pressing finances back-burned my tattoo until early summer. But for the meantime, I'm preparing to have two within weeks of each other AND a trip to Europe to show off my tats to the hot, Italian ladies that want to bring me wine and make fresh pastas.
But it will be a slight deviation on the following norm w/ mine own personal tweaks:
Because I have an odd map fetish. Also, Tat # 2 will be an arrow on a special place, mostly because I also have an odd directional theses on life.
Speaking in nerd, I'll go on to say that "Binary Love" by The Rakes is kinda the one song to rule them all right now...
But it will be a slight deviation on the following norm w/ mine own personal tweaks:
Because I have an odd map fetish. Also, Tat # 2 will be an arrow on a special place, mostly because I also have an odd directional theses on life.
Speaking in nerd, I'll go on to say that "Binary Love" by The Rakes is kinda the one song to rule them all right now...
4.14.2009
The Love-Hate Paradox
I've oft found myself criticizing others' hot-cold tendencies as a bad thing. Akin to Borderline Personality Disorder, one of my personal favorite flavours of PD, the oscillation between intense feelings of admiration and intense feelings of degradation only incite one valuable and interesting element: intensity.
This leads me to believe, or rather, self-psychoanalyse, that my boredom with the average has left me privy to a blind affection, and dare I say, immediate attraction, to intensity. Intense hate, love, anger, sweetness, etc. Lukewarm and moderate sincerely disinterest me, but in my late night revelings, I've somehow reacted to ideals of postulated love with, yes...intensity.
I, myself, have come to realize that I am not a mediocre-liker/lover/hater of anything. I either like it, or not. Et cetera. (the fact that i just wrote out etc says a lot about my need for extremity).
This intensity, is short-lived, however. Like, I would never cheat death by bungee-cord jumping or taking a cruise a mile above the dark abyss. Things are just hot or cold with me. Once they've become warm, I simply bore of it and find the next hot thing. This saddens me to no end (see...), mainly because I'm conflicted about my prefernce for room-temperature pizza...pizza that's been left out and isn't cold, nor hot. Just warm.
Me feelings of warmth are under evaluation. So if I seem a pare above, or below, the norm lately...this is why.
This leads me to believe, or rather, self-psychoanalyse, that my boredom with the average has left me privy to a blind affection, and dare I say, immediate attraction, to intensity. Intense hate, love, anger, sweetness, etc. Lukewarm and moderate sincerely disinterest me, but in my late night revelings, I've somehow reacted to ideals of postulated love with, yes...intensity.
I, myself, have come to realize that I am not a mediocre-liker/lover/hater of anything. I either like it, or not. Et cetera. (the fact that i just wrote out etc says a lot about my need for extremity).
This intensity, is short-lived, however. Like, I would never cheat death by bungee-cord jumping or taking a cruise a mile above the dark abyss. Things are just hot or cold with me. Once they've become warm, I simply bore of it and find the next hot thing. This saddens me to no end (see...), mainly because I'm conflicted about my prefernce for room-temperature pizza...pizza that's been left out and isn't cold, nor hot. Just warm.
Me feelings of warmth are under evaluation. So if I seem a pare above, or below, the norm lately...this is why.
4.09.2009
You can take the gay man out of gay porn,...
but you can't take him out of the theatre...
And in other semi-gay (haha, semi) news: to quell an old argument of mine, fall shows are far superior to spring shows...
And in other semi-gay (haha, semi) news: to quell an old argument of mine, fall shows are far superior to spring shows...
4.07.2009
4.06.2009
Saturday Night Liter
The pre-party on Saturday night brought me upon this lucky fumbling.
Prepre thyself for a hearty heartbreaking...
“The Village Blacksmith”
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Under a spreading chestnut-tree
The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands.
His hair is crisp, and black, and long,
His face is like the tan;
His brow is wet with honest sweat,
He earns whate'er he can,
And looks the whole world in the face,
For he owes not any man.
Week in, week out, from morn till night,
You can hear his bellows blow;
You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,
With measured beat and slow,
Like a sexton ringing the village bell,
When the evening sun is low.
And children coming home from school
Look in at the open door;
They love to see the flaming forge,
And bear the bellows roar,
And catch the burning sparks that fly
Like chaff from a threshing-floor.
He goes on Sunday to the church,
And sits among his boys;
He hears the parson pray and preach,
He hears his daughter's voice,
Singing in the village choir,
And it makes his heart rejoice.
It sounds to him like her mother's voice,
Singing in Paradise!
He needs must think of her once more,
How in the grave she lies;
And with his haul, rough hand he wipes
A tear out of his eyes.
Toiling,--rejoicing,--sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees it close
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night's repose.
Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,
For the lesson thou hast taught!
Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes must be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought.
----
Prepre thyself for a hearty heartbreaking...
“The Village Blacksmith”
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Under a spreading chestnut-tree
The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands.
His hair is crisp, and black, and long,
His face is like the tan;
His brow is wet with honest sweat,
He earns whate'er he can,
And looks the whole world in the face,
For he owes not any man.
Week in, week out, from morn till night,
You can hear his bellows blow;
You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,
With measured beat and slow,
Like a sexton ringing the village bell,
When the evening sun is low.
And children coming home from school
Look in at the open door;
They love to see the flaming forge,
And bear the bellows roar,
And catch the burning sparks that fly
Like chaff from a threshing-floor.
He goes on Sunday to the church,
And sits among his boys;
He hears the parson pray and preach,
He hears his daughter's voice,
Singing in the village choir,
And it makes his heart rejoice.
It sounds to him like her mother's voice,
Singing in Paradise!
He needs must think of her once more,
How in the grave she lies;
And with his haul, rough hand he wipes
A tear out of his eyes.
Toiling,--rejoicing,--sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees it close
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night's repose.
Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,
For the lesson thou hast taught!
Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes must be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought.
----
4.05.2009
Maybe we don't...
We come off like amateurs...some average band trying to come to grips with success...jealous and fighting and breaking up. We're buffoons!
'' Rock and roll can save the world'' ?!
''The chicks are great'' ?!
I sound like a dick.
You are a dick.
I never said that.
Maybe we just don't see ourselves the way we really are.
'' Rock and roll can save the world'' ?!
''The chicks are great'' ?!
I sound like a dick.
You are a dick.
I never said that.
Maybe we just don't see ourselves the way we really are.
4.04.2009
Oriental Antidote
I oft complain about the my failed expectations that is Chinese food in New York.
It's either too expensive, or too greasy, or too bland. All of which happen to cure the hangover jollies.
Last night I [over]ordered and opted to get the pork dumpling, steamed of course, in lieu of the chicken nuggets [re: NOT Chinese food]. Well, they were some the best I have ever had! Thay were meaty, not too meaty, but also had a tiny spice-kick.
Let it be known that my love of NYC Chinese was reinvigorated by a Greenpoint Chinesery. The pork fried rice, albeit that odd yellow, was also tasty.
I've been fully recharged to tackle the PILE that is my closet.
Thank the Almighty its cloudy, as well. 'Twere sunny, I'd be agro and not at all thinking on doing yoga-hour in my room, again. Yeah. I do yoga too. Which is basically just me, sitting in pretzled positions that I'm apt to anyways, set to Radiohead or other post-collegiate cry-baby concerto, and thinking...about pork.
4.03.2009
4.01.2009
Around-the-World in about 4 Hours
In the second season of this little show called Mad Men, at the behest of Don, Betty hosted a dinner that impressed his clients at their quaint Ossining home. Because the Dutch were trying to market Heineken to the States, Betty planned a well-rounded, cultural feast catering to their world-domination through what would eventually become the fancy-boy's beer of choice...in college.
Long story short, a little club that started about a year ago, Dinner Club, with three people and a hunger pain soon became the exclusive club of only five members that either most people frown upon, or beg to be a part of. Longer story short, besides massive hangovers, many a fine dinner has been hosted by Tiffany: chipotle pepper & cheese casserole (?); Stephanie: fennel & goat cheese pizza, and most recently, a Southern menu of highly delicious home fried chicken, mac & cheese, and collards!; yours truly: Spanish fare consisting of albodingas (Spanish meatballs that were awesome!), sherried mushrooms, and saffron-infused mashed taters; and Colleen's Americanized chicken sausage-infused meatloaf, crispy green beans, and goat cheese taters on a bed of BACON.
In my menu planning for the next meeting, I take from Betty, or rather the writers at AMC, a worldy menu...I believe I'll begin with these (I really like tapas, ok) and top them off with a few of these fine American gents.
As for a main course and sides...any ideas? Should I invite a Frenchie, an Englishman, an Asian?
Long story short, a little club that started about a year ago, Dinner Club, with three people and a hunger pain soon became the exclusive club of only five members that either most people frown upon, or beg to be a part of. Longer story short, besides massive hangovers, many a fine dinner has been hosted by Tiffany: chipotle pepper & cheese casserole (?); Stephanie: fennel & goat cheese pizza, and most recently, a Southern menu of highly delicious home fried chicken, mac & cheese, and collards!; yours truly: Spanish fare consisting of albodingas (Spanish meatballs that were awesome!), sherried mushrooms, and saffron-infused mashed taters; and Colleen's Americanized chicken sausage-infused meatloaf, crispy green beans, and goat cheese taters on a bed of BACON.
In my menu planning for the next meeting, I take from Betty, or rather the writers at AMC, a worldy menu...I believe I'll begin with these (I really like tapas, ok) and top them off with a few of these fine American gents.
As for a main course and sides...any ideas? Should I invite a Frenchie, an Englishman, an Asian?
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