Random Esquire

1. Tomorrow night, I’ve been invited to, and will attend, a tasting at a seafood place. The last tasting I went to I was served 5 appetizers, 9 entrees and 4 desserts. I’m not sure I want to contemplate eating that much seafood. I think shrimp are over-rated. I realize this is blasphemy to some but, there you have it. I am so-so about shrimp. I like scallops and oysters. But here’s the thing with oysters - and mussels, too, for that matter - I sometimes have to not think about the fact that I’m eating its digestive system. Like, the things that were on the way out.

I figure that if the mussel has eaten it and I’m eating the mussel…I’m too high on the food chain to be eating the parts of its food that even it has declared as waste. It’s clearly a matter of how large the animal is and how difficult it is to clean and perhaps how offensive the taste must be - but it still strikes me as odd that at some point, we simply shrug and swallow it down. It’s a little disgusting, quite frankly.

2. I read through the Sleep Quirks comments again. Good God, you guys are a bunch of weirdos. I shouldn’t read them a third time or I’ll start trying half of them just to see how they feel.

3. As I walk to work, I often watch the feet of the people in front of me. The women in their heels avoiding the grates, etc. Okay, so maybe I’m looking at some of the legs attached to the heels since it is summer. But I’ve noticed something that only men seem to do. Some guys bounce up on to the balls of their feet, lifting their heel, immediately after taking a step. As a result, they appear to bounce along as they walk. It isn’t always dramatic, but their heel leaves the ground long before it is getting ready to take the next step. Women never seem to do this. Probably because it looks a little stupid.

4. I sometimes say some things that I think are ’sayings’ but may, in fact, just be stupid things I say. Like:

a) Don’t drop your blob.

b) Sleep faster; we need the pillows.

c) She’ll smoke your sausage and eat your cigarettes.

Surely I didn’t make this kind of nonsense up.

1. I find it humorous that I somehow manage to be a bit of a foodie and to enjoy some incredible meals and yet yesterday, I found myself banging two frozen waffles together over the sink wondering if too much ice had formed on them to get them crispy. And then I burned them in the toaster oven. Foodie FAIL.

2. I noticed a bulge in the bathroom ceiling yesterday. I quickly figured out that the air conditioner’s condensation drain was clogged (the AC is above the bathroom) and that the kill switch to prevent the pan overflow had obviously failed. But for a moment, as I stared at the bulge, I hoped that it would beat and pulse and indicate the presence of a evil spirit or poltergeist in the hopes that I could avoid calling AC repair and just opt for a priest or crazy little old lady to tell me that ‘this house is clean.’

3. Last night I saw Plush and she is just as great as ever. She’s a peach, that one.

4. My friend (new nickname: Sitcom) had a bit of a wild night at a bar a while back. It began with a bit of a slap-fight that turned into kissing that then ended with a night of passion, as they say. So life continued on after that evening and then Sitcom finds out that this person she’d had this fight/night with? Yeah, he won an Oscar. Sitcom calls up her friend to tell said friend about this bit of news but before she begins her story, Sitcom’s friend excitedly tells her story…that she (friend) just slept with a guy who designed a Target circular and wasn’t that terribly exciting?! Sitcom’s friend was so excited to have actually slept with the guy who decides if the video games belong in electronics or toys. And Sitcom then had to tell her that her wild fling was with an Oscar winner. Talk about raining on someone’s parade.

This made me think that I need a more exciting job.

I attended the Wine.Dine.Donate event in Chicago, sponsored by Epicurious at MK. I had been invited as a guest of Epicurious and took Instigator, foodie that she is. If you live in San Francisco or New York, these events are coming to your city and I highly recommend them as they are for a good cause (America’s Second Harvest) and, as an added bonus, you can meet Tanya Steel, editor-in-chief of Epicurious and James Beard recipient. Instigator and I were fortunate enough to be seated at her table and I had the good luck of being next to her. She was well spoken and quite charming. On to the food, yes?

The best hors d’oeuvres of the night, in my humble opinion, was the spicy bison tartare on a housemade cracker. Second to that was the wild mushroom bruchetta. We sipped on Pol Roger Brut nv Champagne while mingling. My apologies for the low lighting in the food pictures. Here’s a shot of the restaurant prior to seating.

Dinner was a yellowtail tuna (seared rare, wild watercress, roasted red pepper, new potato, white anchovy, quail egg, black olive) and duck breast (patty pan squash, roasted spring onion, chanterelle mushrooms, pancetta and a red wine sauce.) The tuna was served with a Pascal Joviet Sancerre. Instigator loved the cracked pepper and I thought the anchovy made the dish. The duck was served with a Museum Crianza.

Dessert was a cherry tart with creme fraiche sorbet, bittersweet chocolate sauce and almond streusel. It was served with a Churchill’s 10 year tawny port which tasted a hell of a lot better than my previous experience.

And a generous swag bag came at the end of the meal. Thus concludes my dake with Instigator.

1. I said something remarkably stupid to Besos. Here’s the thing…sometimes I forget that she’s Mexican. I realize that sounds stupid. But I forget. (Hey, pretty women do this to me…) Until at one point last weekend, I looked at her and sort of did a double take. She said, “What?” I said, “Sometimes I forget that you’re Mexican.” I could sense her resisting the urge to groan or roll her eyes. She said, “What?!” I said, “I forget and then I look at you and you look distinctly Mexican and then I realize that it’s like…it’s like I’m dating Maria from Sesame Street.”

I know. I know.

I’m an idiot.

2. Do extra-large eggs come from extra-large chickens? Or does the same size chicken lay different sizes of eggs, which are sorted later?

3. This morning, on the news, a reporter said, “Three masked men banged on the front door and burst in…and that’s when things turned bad.” I don’t know. I think the turn happened a little earlier, myself.

4. Emma Thompson is out. I have a new soccer mom crush. It’s Natalie Morales from The Today Show.

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1. I wonder what my life would like if I had gone to Juilliard for music. No one asked me. I’m just wondering.

[See comments for clarification on that one, to and from SnarkyRunner]

2. I really have a distaste for watching someone pull on a pair of worn-before socks. Especially if they study the socks for toe-shapes to see if it goes on the left or right foot. Disturbing. Not as disturbing, however, as someone wearing only socks. I really can’t think of a good excuse for that.

3. Boss and I went to a (private) tasting last night. We tried 5 appetizers, 9 entrees and 4 desserts..for just the two of us. It was insane but a good opportunity to try a lot of different things. We had to be rolled out. I admit, it was sort of fun to see people watching and wondering why were had so much food coming out or why I was scribbling notes down the whole time.

4. If you could be fluent in five languages, what would they be?

5. I turned in an expense report about 6 weeks ago. I asked Fresh Express for a status and she looked at me blankly. I then remembered that I was supposed to get a new keyboard a few months ago. You know, I’m not sure what she does other than play in the water fountains all day.

Let’s eat our way through Europe. Here are some pictures I took of my meals during my travels. Tuck in and hang on. This is a killer post of food.

Paris, France: Escargot with garlic and parsley butter.

From Rue Cler in Paris: Nutella and banana crepe.

Paris Street Food: Gyro…on a baguette.

More food after the jump.

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I was reading Schokolade Madchen’s blog and she did and entry on how she’s making foods she ate as a child for her German born husband.  So far, he’s impressed with macaroni and cheese but not so much impressed with green bean casserole.  The man clearly has good taste.

This made me think of what foods I loved as a kid.  For better or for worse, I ate anything as a kid.  I still do, generally speaking.  I admit, I love meatloaf - but with barbecue sauce, not ketchup.  And if I make it, I have to eat it with scalloped potatoes and green beans because that’s how I remember it.  I dig maple and brown sugar malt-o-meal, too.  (Another food she’s making for her husband.)  I do not miss eating goulash at all.  Does anyone love this stuff?

Hmmm…I do remember taking vanilla ice cream and mixing in peanut butter and Nestle’s Quik like some mad scientist.   Of course, I also mixed together all the shampoo and conditioner pretending that my bathtub was a laboratory.  I didn’t eat that, though.

This reminds me of the time I flushed an apple down the toilet.  I had taken a bite and decided I didn’t like it.  So I flushed it.  Then I promptly tried another apple.  It sucked, too.  So I flushed that.  I have vague memories of my father eyeballing me from across the bathroom as he snaked the toilet and apples pieces came bobbing up to the surface.  To this day, I still can’t stand Jonathan apples.  Those things taste like dust to me.

What’re your favorite childhood foods?  And did you ever do something with your food that got you into trouble?

1. The Italian has this odd habit. When he gets worked up, he starts to sing the theme from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. We’ll be talking about something and suddenly, I’ll hear him bellow, “Innnnn west Philadelphia, born and raised, in a playground’s where I spent most of my days…” and there’s just nothing to be done until he’s worked it out of his system. Anything can set him off. And not just that song. Today, I said, “I wish you watched Survivor so we could talk about how hot Amanda is.” He said, “I’m a survivor! I’m not goin’ give up!” and off he went. I sighed. This was not as bad as his insistence, the other day, that he sing New York State of Mind. I said something about his ability to sing it and he said, “All us Jews can do Billy Joel!”

Who knew?

2. I ran into Fresh Express today, walking down the hallway. I asked her how she was doing. She pinched her fingers together and said, “Oh, about this much better than yesterday.” I said, “Oh? Are you having a bad week?”

I know, I know. I don’t know why I asked.

She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “I have cramps.”

Inside my head, I screamed.

3. QTMama dedicated a song to me. Dearest QT, when I think about me, I touch myself, too. (QTmama also sent drunk text messages to me last night…except she used the wrong number and now has a text pen pal who is very interested in getting to know her better.)

4. Bev and LynchSeattle sent me two cookbooks by well known Seattle chefs. I think I’m going to try my hand at a few recipes this weekend. Thank you, Bev and Chris!

5. I am learning the value of spontaneity and not always getting things done. I ordered a pizza last night and, remembering that the Ballerina tutored just a block away from me on Wednesday nights, sent her a text and said I’d just ordered pizza - want some? And thirty minutes later, we were eating and chilling out. It was a lot better than working all night. We watched Top Chef. She rolled her eyes at Padma. I clapped.

6. Plush and I will be doing a tasting tonight, concentrating on the food and wines of Italy. I am looking forward to seeing her.

7. Little Filthy’s come hither look:

I decided that I want a piece of a cake. Not just any cake. I want square cake.

But I’d never eat an entire cake by myself. I just want one piece. I am meeting friends out tonight for drinks so I’ve hit upon an idea. I’m going to make a cake and bring it to the bar with the explanation that it’s someone’s birthday. That way I get my piece of cake and there won’t be any leftovers.

It occurred to me that I should make it more believable so I’m going to write, “Happy Birthday, {person’s name}!” on the cake. Only, it isn’t anyone’s birthday. So I’m going to just pick one of the women and we’ll just say it is her birthday.

Only, I’m not going to tell her. It’ll be like a surprise birthday…cake. Something like that. And if she doesn’t want it, I’ll eat her piece.

It’s sort of brilliant, when you think about it.

An early morning run to the store was in order to pick my up my proteins for tonight’s dinner. My neighbor laughed at me as I juggled a bag, a baguette and a bunch of fresh tulips and tried to unlock my front door at the same time. I whistled to myself as I put things in the my fridge and then I turned to the bunch of tulips. I looked to the bookshelf for a vase, which is where the vases normally are. Then it occurred to me - What the hell makes me think I own a vase?

I realized then, of course, that when Boss and I split, the vases went with her. I sent her a text message and said, “You didn’t leave a single vase! Mah tulips is dyin’!” I knew she’d laugh at this. She said, “I only took my vases…I can’t help it that you’re a boy!” Well, that’s true. There’s really no help for it.

So the tulips are in a Pilsner glass. Because that’s what women like to see. Flowers in a beer glass. Hey, man, improvisation is key with me.