Our $228 meal

Last night Gus and I went out to eat with our friends Alex and Erin at Giorgione (pronounced, jor-JO-nay).  Named after the Italian painter (if the name doesn't ring a bell, you'll recognize his Sleeping Venus), Giorgione is basically everything you want in a NY restaurant: great location, lots of patrons but not too crowded, friendly unobtrusive service, decent prices, and of course, great food.

Photo from NYMag.com

We called a couple hours ahead and miraculously got the best seat in the house: a four-person table in the front of the restaurant, half-inside, half-outside looking out to the sidewalk.  The laid-back, unpretentious atmosphere, combined with the balmy weather, made for a relaxed night.  So relaxed, in fact, that I apparently forgot I'm on a publishing salary.  We ended up ordering four glasses of wine at the bar before we were seated, three appetizers, four entrées, another bottle of wine mid-meal, and two desserts. 

Now normally, I'm the type of person who orders a water and one of the cheapest entrees on the menu when I go out to eat, sharing when I can.  So when we got the bill my eyes nearly popped out of my head as I tried to make sense of the numbers.  But, in the end, it was money well spent.  Good food and good company isn't always that easy to come by (well, they usually are in NYC but let me rationalize).  Here's what we ate (I'll spare you the Italian names):

Appetizers

Gus sampled three different types of oysters; two varieties from the West Coast and one from Maine.  He said he enjoyed the taste (even if the texture resembled boogers)

Roman Jewish Style Crispy Artichokes (an odd description; the artichoke hearts were nice and meaty)

Buffalo Mozzarella, Stewed Red & Yellow Peppers, Baby Arugula, Fresh Marjoram (you can't get bad buffalo mozz in this city!)

Entrées

Gus ordered the pizza with Sardinian Sheep’s Milk Ricotta, Spinach, Sea Salt.  A waiter also brought out hot pepper-infused olive oil to pour over the top.  The toppings (unlike a lot of other pizza places we've been to as of late) were plentiful.  De-lish.

I ordered the Spaghetti Puttanesca (you should know this dish, but if not, the sauce is Anchovy, Tomato, Olives, Capers, Parsley).  If it had a little spice it would've been perfect.  The olives were really tasty and salty.

P

 Puttanesca, photo from Giorgionenyc.com

I didn't sample Erin & Alex's meals, but they looked great: They got the risotto and tortellini (one of the specials).

Dessert

Alex ordered a goat cheese gelato to spite me and Erin, who, for the record, both love gelato, but thought the goat cheese was pushing it.  (Of course Gus was on board because it contained cheese.)  The gelato was actually pretty good: It did carry a distinct goat cheese flavor but it wasn't overpowering. And it was mixed with cherries which tempered the cheese flavor.

Erin and I ordered the roasted peaches, which were served warm in a glaze with a dollop of marscapone cheese.  I don't even need to tell you how they melted in my mouth because I think the description speaks for itself.

So yes, I may have maxed the "restaurant & bars" budget I just set in Mint.com in one night, but a little splurge every now and then never hurt anyone--as long as you appreciate it (and vow to eat tuna for the next couple of weeks).

Food Maps!

Image from verysmallarray.com

very small array (which presents a lot of random information in interesting ways), came out with this map series, portraying the five boroughs by the most common restaurant-type per zip code, based on the Village Voice restaurants guide (Gothamist).

A Nude Painting of Mario Batali?

Soooo a street artist named Sketchy Folk recently unveiled his painting of a naked Mario Batali:

Image from Eater.com

Yup, I meant naked! The Village Voice tells us Sketchy is depicting Mario as Bacchus from the famous Rubens painting:

Image from artinthepicture.com

Poor Mario, that's rough.  Apparently, however, the painting "really has nothing to do with 'Mario B"; Says the artist:

This painting is a sharp stick in the eye of all things decent. It is wrong on all levels and really has nothing to do with Mario B. but rather with our unchecked gluttony for all things cheap and ugly, like contemporary art or reality shows or that trainwreck called Lady Gaga. We are doomed and our culture is like a BP well polluting the ocean of reality with the oil of demonic idiocy.

Whatever his artistic intent, Sketchy Folk basically unclothed Mario in front of the world, without his consent.  It's funny, don't get me wrong.  But incredibly invasive when you really think about it.  Then again, Mario's a strange character, so he might just love it. If I were him, I'd frame it over my dining room table and see who my true friends are.

Another fun fact: I missed this one, but Sketchy Folk's friend, Alex Gardega, did a nude painting of Rachael Ray in a river of EVOO last December (apparently done in earnest).

On a side note, Mario recently shared his Sunday Routine with the NY Times, and I'm very pleased to say I've eaten at his brunch spot, Morandi.  It's yet another gorgeous "rustic trattoria" in the West Village.  I took Gus there for his birthday last year.  "Best chicken he's ever eaten."

Last Supper

Everyone loves playing the last meal game.  For some reason, it's fun to think about food in this morbid context.

I just came across this book, My Last Supper, which reveals how 50 of the world's most famous chefs would answer this question, accompanied by evocative portraits taken by the award-winning photographer Melanie Dunea.

Publisher's Weekly writes "The meals are curiosities, and the few recipes included are pleasant enough; it's the photographs of each chef that make this book so irresistible. One needn't have heard of them, much less dined in their restaurants, to appreciate their portraits."

Indeed, the portraits are captivating. What else would have afforded the opportunity to see an almost nude Anthony Bourdain, save for a strategically placed leg bone, or this amazingly large boar?  Click here for more pictures (and yes, the Bourdain photo is included!)

Photo from www.melaniedunea.com

 But I must say, I find the meals equally intriguing. Yes, pictures are worth a thousand words, but the level of description and detail these chefs put into their last meals is arguably just as revealing.

Take for instance, the Canadian chef Martin Picard, who prefers one kilo of caviar and blini, a Russian pancake, followed by fresh bluefin tuna from Nova Scotia, served raw with a soy sauce and self-hunted snipes (a type of wading bird), prepared classically. Right down to the weight, location, and method of kill. 

Then again, his photo is pretty revealing...or misleading.  Would you have guessed this guy is a world-famous chef?

Photo from Time.com

Check out Time's slideshow of excerpts from the book for more affinities for gooseneck barnacles, dark butter chocolate ice cream, potatoes cooked in ashes, and my favorite, "flower of egg and tartufo in goose fat with chorizo and dates."

This is disgusting

If you have to file an article under "TMI," it probably shouldn't be an article. I'm pretty sure this writing would have been perfectly content to stay locked up in a diary, hidden under the author's mattress. But the following is actually a featured article on Salon.com, of all sites: On tonight's menu: Placenta

Yup, it's about a woman who eats her placenta, stir-fry style with some "soy, garlic, and ginger."  I consider myself pretty open-minded, and I can usually appreciate things from a sociological standpoint in the very least, but in this case, I was grossed out beyond belief.  It doesn't help that the writer is quite adept at descriptive writing.  (The part where she describes the smell of her own "meat" cooking really put me over the edge...And this woman calls herself a vegetarian!)

To each his own, I guess.  I'll just sign off with one of my favorite lines:

"Most people are repulsed by the idea of eating their own flesh, particularly an excretion from the vagina."

Exactly.

Craft Beers: Faring Well Despite Tightening Budgets and Questionable Tastes

After reading about the Americanization of hummus, Friendly's Grilled Cheese BurgerMelt, and the Runaway General's beer of choice (Bud Light Lime), I was feeling pretty disheartened by American taste. So I was delightfully surprised to hear that, despite an overall drop in beer consumption and sales, many consumers are willing to pay more for higher quality craft beers.

NPR's Morning Edition reports that sales of craft beer, produced by small, independent microbreweries, are up by 10%.  This, at a time when many are cutting back on their bar tabs.

Photo from NPR.com

An assistant manager at a Maine microbrewery interviewed for the piece sums up the appeal in a nut shell:

"People realize that it's good flavor, and they want the more sophisticated flavor. And everyone's palate has just gotten better.  Plus it's a higher alcohol content, so people get a buzz on quicker too. So I think that's part of it too."

Listen to the full piece below.

And to round out this post, I leave you with a list of the Best Beers to Sip Outside from the Kichn, many of which are craft beers.  Enjoy!

Gothamist Slideshow: 12 Great Places to Eat and Drink Outside

 The Kimberly Hotel, 145 E 50th St., photo from the Gothamist

Someday I hope to meet and become fast friends with some of the writers for Gothamist, because you just know they're awesome. Check out their slideshow for some amazing-looking outdoor restaurants and bars (description below).  Also, make sure to read the caption for #10 Traif.  This may merit a future post.

You spend enough time stuck inside reading Gothamist at work; why should you be imprisoned by walls and roofs all over again on your free time? It's summer, and you are entitled to drink and eat outside, with nothing separating you from the stars but a thin layer of gabardine. With that in mind, we've put together this handy guide to some outdoor dining and drinking spots to hit this summer. Some are old standbys, some are new arrivals, and none of them feature any of that B.S. sidewalk seating. They are, in order of appearance, Bohemian Hall, B Bar, Faustina, Ardesia, The Summit, Hot Bird, The Upstairs, Luckydog, Blackout, Traif, Sky Terrace/Private Park, and The Rock Shop.

Berrylicious Dessert

It normally irks me when people take liberties with the word "berry," but I made an exception here because it really is the perfect way to describe one of my favorite--and easiest to prepare--summer desserts: the berry crumble.  You can find recipes like this anywhere, or just make one up yourself, which is basically what I did.  Though, to be fair, I borrowed some inspiration from Vegetarian Times magazine (yes, they even do desserts!), The Joy of Cooking, and my mom of course.

If you've never made a crumble, you should! Basically you throw together your favorite assortment of fruit, sprinkle it with a crumb mixture, and bake.  No fancy equipment or technique necessary.  In fact, you can be downright sloppy about it because it's pretty hard to mess up; and because there's no such thing as a perfect-looking crumble.

In this case, I used some strawberries and blueberries that Gus's mom picked up for us at a farm stand.  I'm not sure if there's anything better than fresh, ripe, in-season local produce.  It reminds you of what fruit is at its essence--and of what you're missing out on during the rest of the year.  Sure, I can get big, firm, red--sometimes, even sweet--strawberries at my supermarket, but it's not until I walk past the stands at the Union Square farmer's market that I remember that strawberries have a very strong, sweet scent.  And the taste just doesn't compare.  Anyway, I digress, back to the crumble.  Here are my berries:

Now the next step is sort of optional, but I threw in a little cornstarch to make sure it wasn't terribly drippy.  If I had some lemon juice, I would've squirt some in too.

And now for the most important part: the crumb topping.  This is what makes it, folks. I used The Joy of Cooking's recipe for a basic streusal topping (1/3 C sugar,  2 tbsp flour, 2 tbsp butter) and added 1/2 C quick cooking oats.  Many of the crumble toppings I found online use brown sugar and more flour and butter...which probably makes more sense in retrospect.  But I guess it all depends on how much crumb topping you want in proportion to your berries.  I was using a little bread pan so this was perfect.

Then you just bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes (or until it's all nice and bubbly) and you're done! Mine did come out a little soupy, which I didn't mind because I had planned on eating it with vanilla ice cream. 

The wonderful thing about summer berries is that they're great as they are; no need to dip in powdered sugar or chocolate.  But their incredible ripe flavor really comes through in recipes like this, which offers you the satisfaction of baking without all the fuss.

Consider the Lobster Roll

Lobsters occupy an interesting chapter in food history.  In colonial America they were considered trash fish; and servants negotiated agreements so they wouldn't be forced to eat lobster more than twice a week (I imagine it went something like, "We can handle the grueling hours and lack of compensation; just please don't make us eat those lobsters!")

 When you think about it, this picture is actually pretty disturbing.

Then people decided, hey, these don't taste so bad after all (or that lobsters made for a great excuse to lap up melted butter); so naturally lobsters were overfished, which led to lower supplies and higher prices, i.e. the makings of the ultimate status symbol.

Now, they're coming full circle.  NY Magazine tell us that these curious crustaceans are once again in abundance and relatively inexpensive thanks to a variety of factors, including the overfishing of cod (the largest group of natural predators of young lobsters), Maine's surprisingly successful sustainability measures, and the financial meltdown of Icelandic banks (which, I know, sounds random; but for the sake of brevity, I will not go into. Check out page 2 of the article for full details).

So basically, you don't have to be an indentured servant or a Wall Street financier to eat lobsters anymore, at least in NYC.  The city is experiencing a sort of lobster revival.  Places like The Red Hook Lobster Pound drive up to Maine several times a week to get fresh lobsters, offering them at various vendors throughout the city.  Lobster rolls are popping up all over for $14-$15.  And undoubtedly the best story that's come out of this phenomenon (or perhaps, the trigger that set it off), is Dr. Claw.

That's right.  In case you haven't read about him yet, Dr. Claw is not the latest Spiderman villain but a Massachusetts native who makes lobster rolls out of his Greenpoint apartment, taking orders by text message and  (to the bewilderment of his elderly neighbors) hand delivering them in brown paper bags. (The get-up is his way of "preserving his identity." I just want to know where he found that necklace.)

So what is a lobster roll anyway? NY Magazine describes Dr. Claw's process as follows:  "Toasting a buttered, top-sliced bun, carefully selecting 'the perfect combination' of claw, knuckle, and tail meat dressed in a secret preparation, and brushing the whole thing with garlicky butter."

Oh, now I get it. I've never had a lobster roll, but it's definitely on my to-try list this summer.  Maybe I'll even make make a special trip to Greenpoint!

Art meets Cooking

Just came across this really cool site: They Draw and Cook, Recipe Renderings by Artists, Illustrators, and Designers.  Seeing how amazing and creative these are, it's surprising you don't see this type of stuff more often in the form of cookbooks.  I can see it making a good gift.  Anyway, here are a few cool ones, but definitely check out the site and click through more!

The perfect summer restaurant

Don't you love coming across unique, tucked away spots in the city when you don't deliberately set out to do it?  My parents came into the city for a Saturday visit, and they found the perfect little summer restaurant: Palma. 

Palma sits on Cornelia St. in the West Village, but the airy dining room transports you to Tuscany: Stucco walls, exposed wooden beams, glasses jars of fresh flowers and fruit, it even has the requisite homage to the Blessed Mother in the upper left corner of the front wall.  The restaurant opens to a beautiful outdoor garden in the back, complete with potted plants, white rickety patio furniture, and ivy covered walls: A perfect, quiet spot for an afternoon lunch.

And speaking of food, it was pretty euphoric.  The weekend menu courteously offers brunch and a regular lunch menu--a nice selection of appetizers, handmade pastas, and seafood dishes.  Here's what we had (click for the full menu):

Appetizers

• Carciofi Croccanti: The fried artichokes were fresh, crispy, and dusted with parmigiano cheese and parsley. 
• Mozzarella di Bufala: It could've been from Italy.  The mozzarella melted in your mouth, perfectly paired with fresh, ripe tomatoes.  (Palma gets their produce locally.) 

Entrées (Sadly I forgot to take pictures, I was probably too excited when they set the plates down.)

• Linguine Vongole: Linguini with fresh clams, olive oil and white wine.  Light and flavorful, perfect with a glass of white. (Mom)
• Malfatti: Homemade dumplings with spinach and buffalo ricotta in a butter and sage sauce.  Really delectable, the dumplings were small and soft, like little pillows. (Dad)
• Agnolotti di Spinaci: Homemade pasta filled with spinach and buffalo ricotta in tomato sauce, sprinkled with parmigiano and basil.  These had that homemade feel.  Very flavorful and not too cheesy, in a nicely balanced tomato sauce. (Gus)
• Fettuccine Ai Funghi: Homemade fettuccine pasta with mixed mushrooms and truffles.  Everyone agreed this was probably the best dish.  The earthy, sensuous pairing is always hard one to beat when done well.  (Guess who)

Given our instantaneous love of this place, I was surprised to see it didn't garner a Critic's Park on NY Magazine, usually my trusted, go-to source.   The review is short and sweet but gives you the feeling maybe the writer didn't actually visit the place.  Many of the reader reviews complain of the staff/service, which is interesting because our waiter looked and sounded like Clive Owen and was perfectly willing to take our picture.  Look how happy we are.

Historical tidbit: Bordering the garden is a carriage house--apparently, the only one left standing in New York City.  The chef filled us in on its history: After making a home out of it, the restaurant owners realized its obscurity was perfectly suited to host exclusive private parties for the fashion industry.  Now, they offer cooking classes, tours, and private dining parties in the two-story building.  He also mentioned an underground tunnel that runs beneath the carriage house to 6th Ave!!

Um, I need this.

NY Mag reports that a 22-year-old hostess-turned-pastry chef at Marc Forgione has created a $9 “Peanut Butter & Jelly Sandwich” by layering strawberry ice cream between peanut butter cookies and freezing it. Genius.

Amazing slideshow: 101 Best Sandwiches in NYC

This is why I love NY Magazine. They actually took a picture of each sandwich that made their 101 Best Sandwiches in NYC list. Many of these creations involve pork with the promise of clogging your arteries, but I find them tempting nonetheless.

The "Pig's Ass" Sandwich,
Casellula Cheese & Wine Café

Photo from NY Mag

I can do without the chopped liver sandwich (84) and the shrimp roll (59)--which looks like it belongs in a sci-fi movie. (And Chick-fil-A? Really?) I'm sad to say I've never had any of these sandwiches, but 101, 89, 87, 76, 74, 65, and 41 are on my to try list (yes, mostly the higher numbers).

Weeknight Dinners

Dinner on weeknights continues to be a challenge. I typically collapse into our apartment around 7:30 or 8 to a sink full of dishes, a fridge with ingredients that never seem to go together, and a voracious appetite. i.e. danger


In this past, this has often resulted in something like three spoonfuls of peanut butter, some pita chips with Turkish salad, an apple, and ice cream--consumed over a span of three hours--for dinner. And while this random snack combination may be deemed a "meal" in the caloric sense, it simply doesn't satiate like a home-cooked meal.


So Gus and I have decided to sit down and eat together every night (or as often as possible), whether we're making dinner or eating a can of soup. I know I've said this before, but we're really sticking to it this time! Perhaps now that we're 2-year-old New Yorkers we've come to truly value the wonderful simplicity and the importance of sitting down together and talking and eating without any distractions.


So tonight, I made a very simple meal from Epicurious: Spanish White Beans with Spinach. I love this recipe because it's quick, healthy, filling, and only requires 7 ingredients--most of which are inexpensive and/or pantry staples:

• 1 large onion
• 1/2 cup oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes
• 6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 4 garlic cloves
• 1/2 teaspoon sweet smoked paprika
• 2 (19-ounces cans) cannellini beans
• 2 (10-ounces) bags spinach

I was pretty excited about the sweet smoked paprika, a.k.a. Pimenton de la Vera, Dulce. I picked some up at Kalutsyans (which deserves its own post) and it definitely lives up to its sexy-sounding name. Deep and red and sweet and smoky, the spice house tells us it's essential for authentic Spanish cooking: "Popular for dishes such as gratin of leafy greens and crispy potatoes, fish dishes, spinach and chickpea stew or bean dishes. A great way to add a smokey flavor with no heat."


So I was a little disappointed when the flavor didn't come through much in the dish. Next time I'll try adding some more. (Especially now that I have an entire bottle to go through.) Otherwise, I stuck to the recipe and served it with Chapati (Indian flatbread, homemade, from Kalutsyans). The dish was a little brothy for this type of accompaniment, but the tastes went well together. It would also be good served over basmati rice or couscous. Definitely going to tuck this one away for future rushed dinner nights.

Poor man's acid

Interesting tidbit from NPR this morning: Botticelli's Venus and Mars might be stoned on Datura stramonium, a plant that's also known as "poor man's acid."

Back from the Dead

Well, it's been almost a year-to-date since my last post. It's not that I made a deliberate decision to stop blogging. Life just happened. But recently, I've been thinking about how much I enjoyed the whole blogging thing. And, forgive the adage, but I really do want to flex my writing "muscle." I mean think about it, you can easily, without thinking, go for years without writing for the sake of writing. I had a similar experience with cursive and now I can barely scrawl out my own signature (seriously, the inconsistency of my signature really defeats the purpose of having one). So I decided to give it a go again, just for myself, if anything.

That being said, reading over some of my older posts was a bit like coming across my diary from middle-school. I was a startled by how sophomoric I sounded. Because at the time, I remember thinking "damn, this is good." And now I just laugh. But I'm still evolving I guess. I'm trying to turn it into motivation.

And there's a lot I've experienced, food-wise, over this past year, that I simply need to share. I've eaten at a David Chang restaurant. Gus and I cooked a whole chicken and almost died from smoke inhalation. I've sworn off Diet Coke and rekindled my love affair with peppermint patties. All of this, I will share in good time. If you'll just bear with me.

Microwaves IN; Fat-free dressing OUT

Since we canceled our cable subscription, I've been listening to podcasts in the morning--particularly NPR, a nice change from NY1, which, for those of you who are unacquainted, plays its morning news program on a 10-minute loop.

Actually, you'll have to forgive me for this tangent, but I can't not share this: NY1 recently held a music video star contest in which they asked their die-hard fans and people with an inordinate amount of free-time to submit music videos using their theme song, coincidentally titled "New York 1." They played a few of their top picks on the air; however, they failed to share some of the true gems. Too bad I wasn't on the judging panel. My top picks would have definitely been Soraya Sobreidad (because that took balls...or not?) and Ronnie Raygun (for literally blowing my mind...and surely, haunting my future dreams.) You can watch them all here.

ANYWAY, I originally started this post to share the NPR podcast I listened to this morning, about making the most of your veggies.

I wouldn't say the podcast was earth-shattering, but I did learn a couple things, for example:

• A little fat in your salad dressing aids in the absorption of fat-soluble nutrients like those found in tomatoes. That's right, olive oil is still #1.
• Chewing or cutting/grating your food into tiny pieces aids in the body's absorption of certain nutrients. This helps to justify why I need to chop everything into tiny pieces when I cook...and why I'm a lover of all things tiny in general.
  
• Microwaving actually helps maintain antioxidants in vegetables. This is just convenient. And it helps to dispel my lingering childhood leeriness of microwaves, after being told never to stand in front of them while they're on.
  

Dining with Bruce Willis

So a couple nights ago my Aunt and Uncle treated me and Gus to dinner at P.J. Clarke's, one of three recent installments of the 125-year-old original, a favorite of Sinatra's--who apparently once exclaimed "Those urinals! You could stand Abe Beame in one of them and have room to spare." I assume he liked the food too.

The spacious, "saloon-style" restaurant was packed with a paradox of beautiful people and huge burgers. The jukebox heightened the atmosphere with hits from the Beatles and the Traveling Willbury's. The service was fast and the food was good, though definitely on the pricey end. In other words, perfect when you have generous family members picking up the tab.

But I didn't start this post to write a restaurant review. I'm writing because I simply can't contain my lingering star struck anxiety of seeing BRUCE WILLIS.

That's right, this guy:


Bruce Willis walked in about 7 minutes after we sat down. He was seated TWO SEATS away from me (unfortunately, on the same side I was sitting, so I couldn't stare at him during my meal).

For those of you who know me and my inability to contain myself upon seeing B-list, sometimes D-list celebs (i.e. Clay Aiken, Mario Lopez, and Randy from the Real World), this was huge. But I DID control myself and, despite making a phone call and sweating through my clothes, managed to appease my excitement with a few side-long glances. I suppose Bruce made it easier to not make a scene. He was very unassuming--dare I say, he looked quite average--in his baseball cap, t-shirt, and the poker-face expression he wore on his otherwise hairless head. I don't think he laughed or joked once during his meal. He was out to dinner with a guy who looks like he would be associated with the stars--some dude with long frizzy hair and sunglasses, who I did notice picked up the tab. Gus thought it may have been his manager. Anyway, no autographs or pictures ensued. But my memory of Bruce is strong enough to remain without those.

As a side note, Gus ordered his first non-vegetarian restaurant meal in 8 years: a turkey club. I was beaming with bewildered pride when I heard him tell the waiter, though the words "I'll have the free-range turkey club" didn't sound quite as bold as I imagined following my uncle's deadpan order: "Cheeseburger."

Listen up! For all of you beer pong lovers...

New York Magazine, always on their game, reported that the State Liquor Authority may or may not "send seismic ripples across the Murray Hill drinking scene" with their "declaratory ruling" about beer pong in bars:

We’re on pins and needles, folks, because during its last full board meeting, the State Liquor Authority made a declaratory ruling about one of the most important issues of our time: beer pong. A declaratory ruling, in case you’re not familiar with the ins and outs of the SLA, is when an elected official or a business owner asks the Authority to clarify its position on a certain matter. Apparently someone wasn’t sure about the legality of throwing Ping-Pong balls into crappy beer, and so the SLA will soon release a statement clarifying the conditions under which it can or cannot occur in a bar (it has previously fined establishments when gambling or unlimited drinks were involved).

One night at Hook and Ladder or Whiskey River and you'll realize the grave implications such a ruling can have: Ivy League fratboys that dominate these establishments take their drinking games almost as seriously as themselves. I've actually seen my friends challenged to a game of beer pong by a finger-pointing Ivy Leager (he made sure to inform us) in a baby blue polo and khakis yelling "FUUCK YOUUUUUUUUU!" True story.

On a semi but mostly unrelated note, how did I not know this? And more importantly, what purpose does it serve?

Attention Attention! For those of you who haven't heard the monumental news yet: Gus has joined the dark side...carnivorism. Alas, after eight years of veggie protein links (a.k.a. "hotdogs"), tofurky, and boca burgers, Gus tasted a former living animal in the form of a barbeque-slathered chicken wing dipped in blue cheese. (Actually, I'm not so sure he actually tasted the meat, but in the very least he experienced the texture.)

Why did he do it? Well, why does Gus do anything? His affair with vegetarianism started as a self-imposed challenge to see simply whether he could do it. After finding it easy to abstain from meat, poultry, and seafood for a couple of weeks, Gus chose to stick with it for the next eight years despite constant derision and mockery by friends and family.

Is this what led to his final breakdown, the lack of a "support group," as he once described it to me, which is apparently a strong factor as to whether or not vegetarians stay the course. Well, that may have had something to do with it. (But just for the record, I've become quite adept at [willingly] incorporating soy meat into our meals...I make a mean veggieblt.)

No, what it really comes down to is the chicken wing. He just wanted one. And though food manufacturers do incredible things now days with soy and vegetables to mimic the real thing, nothing really comes close to an authentic chicken wing.

So what does this mean for us? Well, his color has improved.

Before:
After:







Just kidding! No, nothing as drastic as this news may suggest. Since the infamous date, Gus's non-vegetarian inventory-to-date consists of 1 bite of a turkey sandwich, 3 scoops crab dip. We'll still be sticking with the soy stuff for the most part--there are so many compelling reasons to abstain from meat, after all. But it's nice to know that we can indulge in a chicken wing once every blue moon.