iamthestretch

Kliman does his usual thorough job on CityZen this week. Though I'm not convinced this bit came out exactly the way he meant it to: "Technique is learned behavior; the love of a pig -- that's innate." I guess Ned Beatty did seem to get the hang of it pretty quickly in that movie with the rafting and the banjos and the friendly red staters.

I'd answer a hearty yes, yes, and yes (well, maybe not just mayo and cheese, but mayo and cheese in the context of a burger, definately). ← Suggested new sig line. "Don't hold the mayo. Ever." Whatever your take on the personal responsibility issue, one undeniable consequence of the fast food arms race is the inevitable escalation of the metaphors necessary to both market and critique these monsters. For example, a quick Google search finds this: "'If the old Thickburger was food porn, the new Monster Thickburger is the fast-food equivalent of a snuff film,' said Michael F. Jacobson, executive director of the Center for Science in the Public Interest." I'm not quite sure where you go from there, rhetorically. "This is Taco Bell's 'Triumph of the Will!'" "If you eat this pizza, the terrorists will have won!" "It's Klu-Klux-Kandy!" Peripherally, for those championing the 'nobody's making you eat it' position, that same Google search turned up these 2004 media spend numbers for the big fast food firms: McDonalds -- $629 million. BK -- $296 million. Wendy's -- $231 million. Pizza Hut/Taco Bell/KFC -- $550 million. It's not coercion, but that's a lot of persuasion.

That Web site makes my tum-tum hurt just looking at it. What I really don't get is the mayo. Do hamburgers and mayo generally go together? Do bacon and mayo generally go together? Do cheese and mayo generally go together? Then which demented research chemist decided it was the crucial missing ingredient in this tasty treat? (Full disclosure: Netflix sent over "Supersize Me" yesterday and I still can't get the color of that regurgitated Bacon Double Cheese out of my head.)

I'm cooking Thanksgiving lunch for a bunch of other expat DC Eurotrash this year. So no one is going to complain too much if we veer away from the old standards. Thought I'd maybe confit some turkey thighs -- mainly so that the main course can be safely done a few days ahead -- but wondering what to use for the fat. Olive oil? Duck drippings? Is this a bad idea in the first place?

Mark has a recurring dream in which Cathal and Michael fight bloodily with chefs' knives for the right to arrogantly cook him a dinner to take to his grave. He told me.

Curses -- here's my post that didn't get in early enough. Fools never differ, I guess. Montmartre? You'd probably have to go early to get in with seven, but since the kids are coming maybe that's not such a bad idea anyway. Or one of the big round tables up at the front of the Les Halles on Pennsylvania Ave? Tapas can get complicated with a lot of people and rumor has it La Tasca sucks.

What the Hell is this about? "Italian chef's wife Downtown: Tom how did you get started? Is it true that SOME restaurants pay SOME reviewers once in a while?" Che cazzo stai dicendo? Non mi scazzare i coglioni!

A couple of crappy pictures of some really good food. Eve rules. Amuses -- deviled quail eggs, house cured salmon, duck mousse, special empanadas. Lobster creme brulee. Oh yeah. Oyster soup with oyster root and oyster crackers. Mmm. Oysters. Marlin. Badly overexposed here. In real life, nicely done with a meaty, earthy mushroom cake. Rabbit fricassee. As good as it looks. Lamb three ways. Bad picture. Great dish. Passion fruit bombe. Birthday cake. Even though it's not your birthday. Cathal Armstrong: "You know, you guys were way less trouble than I expected. I may not have to call the police after all." mnebergall: "Yeah. Sure. Decorum. That's our middle name. Hey, Thrasher, is there any more wine?" mdt: "Mmm. Birthday cake. That's really what it's about for me. Birthday cake. I wonder how they get the icing so pink? I like that. Blue is good, too. But on balance I probably prefer pink. It's so fluffy. Birthday cake. Just a couple more bites then..."

Three words: Please. Come. Back. Also: Best. Of. Luck.

These are like meatballs, only much more self-referential, right?

Had the big bowl with fat brisket and eye round at Pho Hiep Hoa on University Blvd. in Wheaton this weekend. Most fragrant. But the coolest thing there are the two fish in the tank by the cash register: imagine the head of a large sardine grafted onto the forebody of a small carp grafted onto the tail section of an overweight eel. I hope they taste good, or their bile ducts cure psoriasis or something, otherwise that's one evolutionary pathway that's pretty much a total loss.

Used to live around the corner and go all the time. Standard operating procedure was dinner at Coppi's, usually the white pizza with red onions and Canadian bacon, followed by drinks at Utopia next door. (Do not be tempted to reverse this order, as the food at Utopia has always fallen well short of the Platonic ideal.) Since we moved away from the U St. corridor, we've been getting our pizza fix at 2 Amys and haven't been back to Coppi's that much. I'm glad to hear it's still going strong and that Elizabeth Bright is still doing some of the excellent Italian wood oven cooking she used to turn out at the late, lamented Vigorelli up on Connecticut Ave.

We went back Friday for a second look. The spring rolls were excellent, as were the flat rice noodles. I'm working my way up the heat ladder, but still shying away from the "extra spicy" option. Any iron tongues out there willing to take it in the tastebuds and (hopefully) live to tell the tale?

Today was a good day for artichoke soup, braised pork belly and apple fritters. Washed down with Minervois and strong coffee. The bouillabaise probably would have hit the spot nicely, too. Bad day for us barflies, though, as it was also Mike's very last shift before moving to a career where you can sit down on the job.

Love that schnitzel. Was there anything decent to drink?

Humor me, I'm an out-of-towner. How does "mambo" sauce differ from run of the mill hot sauce? And does it only crop up on wings?

Very sad. Though the little thread on Ella's is quite amusing for other reasons.

I see they're now going to allow pre-orders at the grill. You can call ahead before they open and arrange to pick up instead of standing in line. Personally, I still want it straight off the fire, though I did take one home for dinner the other day. Wrapped in a tea towel and kept in the fridge, it held up great. In fact, the sauce had soaked all the way into the bread and after a minute in the microwave, it was all steaming, gooey porky pesto-ey goodness. Aaaaarrrggghhh.

OK, call me ignorant Eurotrash, but what's the papaya angle? Where is it written that in order to sell sausages in New York, you first have to purport to purvey tropical fruits?

As promised, here are some pictures of lunch. Fried Asian long green squash fritters. Gram fritters -- Yellow split peas, ginger, garlic, and cilantro. Green tealeaf salad -- Fermented tealeaf, tomato, and cabbage tossed with Burmese dressing, garnished with fried garlic and crispy yellow peas. Pork with pickled mango curry. Ordered medium spicy. Beef in onion/tomato curry with hot pepper. Ordered spicy -- it was! Mike, your weekend is going to start with a bang. ShweJi -- Cream of wheat, coconut cream, sugar, raisins, and milk, topped with poppy seeds, then baked. Everything was good. The salads are particularly interesting -- we also had one with mango but the picture didn't do it justice. Oh, and hot means hot here. You can sweat if you want to. Decor is utilitarian, service is efficient, prices are reasonable and I'm stuffed.

Here's their Web site. Nice looking menu. I've got to be up in SS today, so there might be time for a visit. Camera's in the glove box, too; I'll try and take some pictures.

OK, let's parse this a little. I live in Georgetown, you know! I'm a partner in a law firm, you know! By solid, I mean consistently servile, as is my due. I still can't believe the gall of those people making me wait to be seated. On chairs they couldn't even be bothered to upholster. At a table I didn't even get to choose. Among all those horrible plebs with their squalling brats. And then acting like they don't have to kiss my ass just because they serve great food and have lines around the block! Sorry Mr. Sietsema, but I'm a tool. I'm a tool, tool, tool. I'm an unbelievably self-important and annoying tool.

I know nothing about the dining scene, but according to our friends at the DEA: "There is increased demand for MDMA and other club drugs throughout West Virginia, but abuse currently remains fairly concentrated near Morgantown." You did say 'anything.'

I think I'm going to try and make the grill for some pork shoulder today, too, even though it's all pissy outside. Apres moi(nk), le deluge!

Bugger your cheese! Real men take a bite out of a real brick and then laugh hugely with their mouths full, spraying red dust all over the table. I agree about the service at Oyamel, though. One of Jose Andres' strengths seems to be his ability to keep good people. If James is at the bar, you're in luck. He walked me through the long menu from memory the first time I went in and dismissed my compliments with a laugh. "This is easy! I used to be at Zaytinya and there were about twice as many to remember -- in Turkish." He also sings.