Tag Archives: Seattle

Man and Lisa v. Food

So…I was sitting around watching TV last night with my cousin…and he has cable, so I was super-excited that I could shift between The Office and Man v. Food and The Little Couple and Keeping Up with the Kardashians

And as we were watching, Jen from The Little Couple talked about dating and said that she got to a point before she met Bill when she thought, “Maybe it’s just not going to happen for me…” and I thought, “Wow – I’ve been thinking that exact same thing…”

And then my cousin and I went back to Man v. Food and he said something like, “You should marry that guy. He lives in Brooklyn and he likes food.”

And, you know, I’ve seen Man v. Food before and I *have* thought that Adam Richman is kind of adorable. (I’ve also thought that he seems like a little bit of a manwhore, too, sometimes…but, then again, what hot-blooded New York male with a show on the Travel Channel isn’t a bit of a manwhore? [And I’m not so much of a prude that I can’t admit that if I was from Mars and didn’t hear my clock ticking loud and clear, I might be inclined to sow oats ‘til kingdom come, too…])

And…I also happened to be texting back and forth with a friend in Seattle last night…and I sort of busted his chops and he sort of busted mine and he finally wrote back something like, “You love me…” and I said, “I sure do…but, right this red hot minute, I’m also sort of loving Adam Richman…” and he said, “I’ll introduce you!” and I said, “Sure…great.” And he said, “No, really – I went to school with him…” and then I freaked out a little.

And, I mean, I realize the odds of it becoming Man and Lisa v. Food are pretty darn slim *and* that 2010 is supposed to be about me and me alone (to which my darling friend said, “Well, then I guess he’ll just have to pine away for you for twelve long months…”), but, heck, I’m not so much of a cynic that I can’t entertain the fanciful notion that maybe my friend has magical powers and/or got along super-well with Adam Richman at Yale and Adam Richman has fond memories of him and/or thought of him as something of a guiding life force and will listen with rapt attention when my friend says, “Hey, so, I have this adorable friend and you should meet her…” (I wasn’t sure whether my friend should lead with “adorable” or “pie-making” in his pitch, but my friend said adorable was the way to go…and then I pointed out that they say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach but my friend argued that it is actually anatomically lower and so I amended my intro-to-Adam-Richman phrase. But this is a family blog, so we’ll leave it at that.)

And, you know, maybe it isn’t totally crazy and that blurb from The Little Couple and my cousin’s comment were fortuitous…and maybe Adam Richman will be totally intrigued by my pornographic name and he will totally have his taxi light on. And maybe this explains why the universe has spewed such tremendous man-crap at me over the past several  years – maybe it was all so I would truly appreciate Adam Richman when I had him.

Besides, think about all that Adam Richman and I have in common: Aside from food and travel, we both live in Brooklyn, we both used to live in Atlanta, we both have master’s degrees from Ivy League universities, we both describe ourselves as “a bit on the husky side” (okay, okay…I don’t actually do that…but I *did* eat a lot when I was depressed this summer…) and we are both brunettes. If *that* doesn’t spell out, “written in the stars,” I don’t know  *what* does.

So…I am going to amend my 2010 resolution slightly and say that I am going to be happy with me…and Adam Richman, too, should he happen to fall in my lap.

(Either way, I am excited about 2010. The buck stops in 2009, folks. I was watching Jersey Shore – I know! I know! But I’m working on a story about how MTV is leveraging all the online buzz to drive ratings, so I *had* to – and, you know, there’s tons of dramz: Sammi [the self-proclaimed “sweetest bitch you’ll ever meet”] gets in a fight with Ronnie because she sees him dancing with a girl at Karma and so she gives her phone number to her cop-friend and J-Woww [the one with two-toned hair and renegade boobs] sees and tells Ronnie to go “check his girl” and then he gets upset and leaves the club and so J-Woww goes after him because she doesn’t want him to be alone, but then someone tells Sammi that Ronnie left with J-Woww and *she* gets upset and goes to the house, too, and finds Ronnie and J-Woww in the same room and it’s terrible [which, tragically, is precisely why Ronnie said his one and only rule was not to fall in love at the Jersey Shore!], but then Ronnie feels bad and follows Sammi into the guest room and they make up…and, sure, I’m probably not going to draw *too* many life lessons from Snooki and the gang, BUT…I *did* sort of find wisdom in Sammi’s comment when she was upset about Ronnie and the Mystery Lady from the club [who I think ended up going home with The (poor) Situation who has abs of steel but still can’t seem to close the deal?] and she said something like, “He’s with another girl? No. That’s it. I’m done.” I wish *I* had the gall to say, “Look at how completely amazing I am! If you’re stupid enough to screw things up, I’m moving on! There are plenty of other fish in the sea!” Although…I guess that can be part of my I’m-going-to-be-happy-with-me resolution.)

(Adam Richman, you’ve been warned…[but I mean that in the nicest way possible…])

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Filed under Brooklyn, holidays, The Office

Good Eats: Or, New York with Bobby, Junior, Florence, Mario and Tina.

So…my mother was here last week, which means I got to indulge in a New York lifestyle drastically different from the norm. To wit: I got up and dressed every single day and didn’t once look for a job or do any copywriting or tinker with my book proposal. Instead, I went to restaurants under the purview of celebrity chefs and saw shows on Broadway. I would imagine I would eventually run out of shows and/or get bored if this was my regular life, but…from here, the grass looks pretty green.

Our first stop was Bobby Flay’s Mesa Grill. I’ve probably walked by this place a million times, but I’ve never been inside. However, I’ve been meaning to ever since I was at work (or in a class) once and my mom was exploring the city on her own and stumbled upon it and was super-excited and ended up doing a big, brave thing and eating there on her own. So…after six years, I finally ate there. I was really happy with my chile relleno — stuffed with eggplant and rolled in cornmeal! — but my mom was a little disappointed with her sweet potato ravioli…which was a shame as it is the one dish that jumped out on the menu to me, too. I’ve sort of had a complex about chile rellenos since eating at a Mexican restaurant in Wisconsin that served an extremely eggy one. As we all know, I HATE EGGS. So…it freaked me out and sort of put me off chile rellenos for a while. But my mother quoted somebody — possibly Bobby Flay — who said that you really shouldn’t be able to taste the egg in a good chile relleno…and she/he was right. (I also really enjoyed the barbed-wire tiles in the bathroom. Nice touch, BF.)

That night we went to the Grand Central Oyster House…which is another one of those places I have heard about for ages but have never actually tried. I don’t honestly remember where all of the oysters came from — although I’m pretty sure two were from the East coast and two were from the West. Either way, it came with mignonette…which is my favorite part about oysters. I had it for the first time at Elliott’s Oyster House in Seattle years ago…and that was it. I was sold. I also had scallops (which I am told my father liked…which is worth mentioning solely because the whole reason my mom came out to NY was to walk with me in the Light the Night Walk in his memory/honor and so I could perhaps exorcise a demon or two) and my mom got a white fish that came with chunks of bacon on top. Both, again, were very, very good…and we were early because we had tickets to Jersey Boys (still hadn’t seen it!) and I imagine it gets pretty cozy in there as the night goes on, but it seems like it would be fun to meet up there for drinks and oysters after work someday. (Also? There is a red lip-shaped couch in the bathroom.) After the show, we hit up Junior’s for cheesecake…and my mom was very excited to see an autographed photo from Bobby Flay. So…it was like the whole day came full circle.

The next day we got lunch at Bagels by the Park and headed out for the God of Carnage matinee. (Loved it! So good! And so funny! Despite the sort of Heart-of-Darkness point of it all…) We had some time to kill afterward, so we hit up the Ripley’s Believe it or Not Museum in Times Square (it was either that or Madame Tussaud’s…and the guy at the door gave us $5 off each ticket)…and I guess we should have known better as it was pretty much a huge letdown. Or, rather, there was a lot of uncomfortable stuff: people with really unfortunate physical abnormalities; a room that traps you inside; torture devices; and weird medical situations. There was one breast implant display with a pair of boobs that inflated at the push of a button…otherwise, a big miss. Then I tried to take Ma to the Rainbow Room, but it’s apparently closed for awhile? (Kind of ironic that the Web site says, “Then. Now. Forever,” eh?) And so we opted instead for the revolving lounge atop the Marriott Marquis…and wouldn’t you know it? Florence Henderson was there. Small world. So…we had a drink there and tried to determine which building was which and whether Florence did anything besides the Brady Bunch and Wesson Oil (I have a “Christmas Carols” refrigerator magnet that includes Ms. Henderson, Carol Burnett, Carol Channing and Carroll O’Connor).

THEN we went to Mario Batali’s Spotted Pig as my mom really, really, REALLY likes Mario Batali. We had to wait at the bar for a bit, but it wasn’t a big deal as two seats opened up right away…almost like fate! We had oysters *again* and my mom was thinking about getting pork belly, but our server told us it was pretty fatty…so she ended up with a fish again and I got chorizo-stuffed quail with goat cheese pudding. Pretty amazing. Although the kitchen was churning out burger/fries like they were going out of style. And the guy at the table next to us could not have been any more smarmy and sort of reminded me why I’ve vowed to be the Lone Wolf for awhile. (We also finished things off with a stop by Magnolia Bakery so my mother could have one of the cupcakes made famous by you-know-what.)

On our last full day, we had a late lunch at Chevy’s and dinner after the walk (So cold! But Tina Fey was there!) at an Italian restaurant in my neighborhood that Guilia Melucci wrote about in “I Loved, I Lost, I Made Spaghetti.” We had tried to get in to Buttermilk Channel, which used to be a place called Cafe Scaramouche where I had brunch sort of on a regular basis with my friend Bob and ordered pancakes with caramelized orange peel that he called “pancakes in drag.” But it’s apparently quite a hot spot as the wait was an hour and we were cold, starving walkers, so we sought out the quiet Italian joint.

And then that was it. Mom went back to Tucson and I went back to reality. Still have a little linguine left over…but then it really is back to my own cookin’. Good thing I’m still really excited about my Trader-Joe’s-in-the-middle-of-the-day epiphany…

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Filed under books, Brooklyn, cheesecake, cupcake, eggs, fish, Food Network, pork

Cue the Lynyrd Skynyrd…

Boy, am I going to sound like a wet blanket, but…the job woes continue, etc., etc.

And…as noted in my previous post, I’ve been sad about The Bartender. So…I was talking to my oldest childhood friend and she reminded me that maybe the reason everything is so uncertain for us now is because of our Saturn Return. So, I mean, this is fantastic news. I can’t even tell you how comforting it is…especially since I can now start thinking about 30 as the end of chaos…rather than the beginning of the end.

Big J’s other revelation? Welll…I was *also* saying that I think maybe my love affair with New York is coming to an end (although, then again, something like the Michael Jackson birthday party comes along and reminds me why I fell in love with Brooklyn in the first place…)…and there are so many cities I’d love to try out before all is said and done: Seattle, Chicago and Atlanta, to name a few…and then I start looking for jobs in those places and then I end up with a totally overwhelming number of jobs to apply for and then I start thinking, “I don’t even know if I want any of these jobs!” and I don’t actually apply for anything and I get nowhere.

That is when Big J said (more or less), “You big dummy! You don’t just apply for anything! You look for the jobs you really *want* and *those* are the jobs that you apply for outside of New York!”

And of course she’s right!

So…I did just that on Friday…and came across a job in Alabama that sounds like it would be a really good fit — writing and editing stories about food, home and travel. I don’t actually know anyone in Alabama…and I’m not sure how I feel about starting all over *again*…but I spent four years in Mississippi and Georgia growing up…and was actually surprised by how nice it was to be in the South again when I went on the trip in the trailer with my mama in July…(see my post about that meal in Carlisle, Arkansas. Whoa.)

Plus, I’d be living on the coast…which is 1) super-beautiful (if memory serves)…and 2) only about five hours from Atlanta. So…I could get a car and visit some of my favorite people on the weekends…and I could finally get a Golden retriever. And imagine the kind of apartment I could have — I’m thinking washer/dryer *and* dishwasher. My heart be still…

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Filed under appliances, birthdays, frying, Mississippi

What do drink way up North…from a proud member of the Sourtoe Cocktail Club.

I have been remiss again! But…allow me to make up for some lost time.

I just flew in from Tucson (by way of Seattle) on Alaska Airlines because my parents have a gazillion frequent flier miles. And flying makes me a little, you know, nervous…so I usually buy trashy celeb magazines to distract myself during takeoff. But at one point during one of the flights, I was actually reading the in-flight magazine…and I came across an ad for a bar in Anchorage called “Darwin’s Theory” and it made me laugh because it says the owner is the world’s biggest seller of cinnamon schnapps *and* that the Anchorage Daily News said it has the best popcorn and the best jukebox in the city.

This, of course, vaguely reminds me of the Downtown Hotel in Dawson City, Yukon Territory and its infamous Sourtoe Cocktail. I was thinking — it’s too bad I wasn’t on Facebook when that whole episode took place as the photo of me and the toe would surely turn some heads. It feels a bit like cheating by putting it up now though…as if I am purposely trying to draw attention to myself. But! As I was *just* talking to friends in Seattle about this, I’ll reminisce with you a bit:

I did it with Yukon Jack even though I HATE whiskey because the Health Department declared the booze has to be a certain proof or something. The guy at the Downtown Hotel swore that Yukon Jack was the easiest way to do it…and I protested a bit, but finally relented…and remember thinking he was right and it was actually kind of lemony. Back in New York some time later, I came across Yukon Jack again and got a bit nostalgic…but it just seemed like regular stupid whiskey…and I was kind of puzzled…and my friend said, “Well, I think that maybe last time you were distracted by THE TOE.”

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Filed under Alaska