warning!

This here site is dangerously close to becoming another food blog. The majority of my daily procrastinate-at-work emails involve discussing with friends 1.) where we're going to eat next, 2.) how awesome what we just ate was, 3.) our gastric situations following a culinary outing.

Example of a Number One:

gina: how about hearth or centovini?

sl: i think i lean more toward centovini than hearth, but only because i saw some negative reviews of the service there. what about blue ribbon bar? though i can't really find much on it. or klee brasserie? which, i'm pretty sure, i'm spelling wrong.

gina: i'd looooove to go to blue ribbon bar. but i'm afraid it's going to be packed. although if i'm off on monday or tuesday.... maybe we could try blue ribbon bar and then have centovini as a plan b? and i'm always very skeptical of people who write on citysearch about bad service. people take one or two mistakes made by one waiter on one night and determine that it's a problem with the restaurant as a whole. also, service has to be very far from flawless for it to ruin my experience, provided the food is good.

anyway, you spelled klee brasserie correctly. my problem with going there is that the creepy colon cleanse informercial guy who compares the size of his daughter's bowel movement to his forearm is named klee.

Example of a Number Two:

Stay tuned tomorrow (or, if I'm too hungover from tonight's belated holiday staff party, Thursday) for a full Los Angeles recap, including my first experiences with the following: guanciale, steak tartare, epoisses cheese, baked pork buns, yellowtail belly, brain tacos, fish tacos, baby eel, and spicy Szechuan.


Example of a Number Three:

Fortunately for you, the reader, I will say no more other than that you should be prepared to suffer for your spicy Szechuan. Please pass the Metamucil.

love (and cold dryness that is making my fingernails break off) is in the air

It's kind of sad that the spam comments to my blog posts are more interesting than my actual blog. But I've been busy! Busy working! And getting kicked out of bars! (Namely, Hooters.) But mostly just hibernating in my windowless furnace of an apartment. Last week I completed the Thursday crossword puzzle for the first time. It's probably my greatest accomplishment since college graduation. Anyway.

*So I have actually been a wee bit productive. Here's my latest contribution to the wonderful world of internet service journalism. Awesome header photo courtesy of my horndog editor. Bless his heart. (Also, please don't stalk me.)

*Next Tuesday, we're closing the restaurant early and, finally, having our holiday party. There's no way it won't be ridiculous, but, unfortunately, probably not this ridiculous. Note to self: Get hired at the Spotted Pig by next February.

*This new service is pure genius. It reminds me of college, when if we locked ourselves out we had to go to the housing office across campus to fill out a little form and get a key copy and the numerous times I had to go there barely clothed and barefoot. And of my first apartment after college and the time I left my keys and cellphone in the apartment so I couldn't call any friends and I took a cab to FAB's on the Upper East Side and rang the bell but she wasn't home so I went up to ol' alma mater and figured I'd crash in a dorm's common room but was able to use a computer to look up an old teammate/current student's number and beg to sleep on her floor. And of my current apartment, specifically when I hadn't given S a copy of my key after they changed the outside door's locks and got home from work at 5am sans keys and had to wake her up and spend the night on her futon in Greenpoint. I've since wisened up and hidden keys outside my apartment.

*I thought it wasn't possible for me to love Pies 'n' Thighs any more than I already do, but then this guy came along. Score one for Homie the Cat.

And, in case anyone was wondering, I will be spending Valentine's Day working at the restaurant. And then, most likely, enjoying a nice six pack alone in my apartment. Maybe I'll even spring for something imported.

don't drink and diet

There is a bump on my forehead the size of a golf ball and I have no idea how it got there. I think perhaps it has something to do with last night, when, after spending two nights in a row this week alone at home watching the Oprah 20th anniversary DVDs, eating ice cream, petting the cat, and, yes, crying (judge me after you watch that dear little 11-year-old poet boy with muscular dystrophy and a desire for world peace), I decided to give up on the whole virtue thing and hang out after work at work with my coworker. We essentially re-tasted every wine we pour by the glass, in full glass proportions. I didn't really learn anything about the wine, but I definitely learned that a chicken salad is not a sufficient alcohol absorber. Needless to say, my head hurts, and I will be having sparkling water after work tonight in preparation for tomorrow's outing to Hooters for a friend's early retirement party (she's giving up on the ol' NYC and moving to Miami). Pictures to come.

calgon...

Yeeeah, it's a little nippy in New York right now. As luck would have it, I'm headed to LA next week to stay with these food lovin' boys and spend over a month's rent on restaurants. I'm not sure of the exact plans they've (not) cooked up, but I know that our itinerary looks something like this: eat, eat, eat, drink, sleep, repeat times four. We might go shopping once too. Definitely not for jeans.