Well, we go way back to Friday, April 25, 2008. Sadly, I have no notes, but it was a pretty memorable food day, so I think this should be fairly accurate, plus or minus a tortilla chip or two.
Breakfast was one of my favorite things in the world, leftover Indian food and eggs. I love making omelets with chana masala and munster or a pub cheese. This morning it was chana masala and keema kurma with scrambled eggs and munster cheese as a burrito. I ended up making way too much stuff for the insides and had to make 4 burritos to fit it all. I ate two of them myself and gave one away to an office mate. The other lady in my office wasn't feeling so adventurous, though, so it ended up getting thrown away. Most days I would have just eaten it or saved it in the fridge, but today was a day apart.
It was my last day on that assignment, and happened to coincide with the annual departmental staff luncheon. We were all going to a paid lunch at a nearby Italian restaurant that afternoon and I wanted to keep space open for some fancier coal in the chemical furnace that fuels my life.
Speaking of fuel, I do believe I accelerated the burn a bit with an additive known as "Green Mountain Coffee's Sumatran." I couldn't point at Sumatra on a map, but man, do I love the coffee that comes out of that place. I guess that qualifies me for a probationary Typical Yuppie Scum membership card. I've got to head this off at the pass. I'll donate to NPR, support local farming and what's that? It's only getting worse. Well then I guess I'll just have to give in a buy that French press, burr grinder and Ethically Sound Business Practice Coffees of the World of the Month Club membership. (now available on weekly and bi-weekly plans)
Then there was Italian food with a pleasant side of drinking with your boss. It was all a little bittersweet, since I really enjoyed working here. The bosses in question were great to work for and the other people who worked in the office were also a lot of fun. It was a nice send off, although they would have been doing it disirregardless of my ever having worked there.
Apetizers galore came pouring out first. I ate enough calamari to fill a pair of crew socks. That is a lot of calamari when you think about it. Calamari is one of those special foods that defies politeness and dainty portions ettiquette. You have to bite while the squidflesh is hot or it turns into this sad rubbery mass of self-loathing, resenting it's former glory as its proteins continue to bind and the fat coagulates until there is nothing but jaw-thwarting piteous disappointment. To prevent this sad fate, Calamari must be eaten while still succulent and tender in that halcyon moment between too hot to taste and too cold to chew.
There were also battered, deep-fried wedges of mozarella on a bed of battered and deep-fried vegetables. I can't be sure what all was battered and deep fried, but I believe zuchini, carrots and parsnips were the chief culprits. The batter was a delightful light texture while also being incredibly bold with garlic and herbs I couldn't quite pinpoint. It provided an amazing counterpoint to the moz and veggies that just broke my heart. If there were enough of that to fill three pair of crew socks I would have eagerly devoured it all, defying the probable heart attack to take me swiftly in my grease-addled euphoria.
Of lesser note was an antipasta plate that was still very good. The center-piece was a bowl made from fried parmesian full of cubes of parmesean. There was an assortment of meats around the edges, two different cuts of prosciuto, capicola ham, beef carpaccio and salami. The olives were not so good, but the meats provided some nice options to play with the bread and ubiquitous plate of mozarella, tomato and basil.
My entre was the saddest part of the whole affair. I ordered veal medalions topped with prosciuto and parmesean on a bed of spinach with a wine reduction sauce. The veal was only passing fair and the greens were terrible. I was so full after the appetizers, I could hardly bring myself to wrestle with finishing the veal and left all of the spinach on my plate. That was a sad end to a great meal, and the last thing I ate till well after midnight.
In the interim were a few glasses of wine during lunch at the Italian place, and then many, many beers. I had a nice pint of Bass around 6pm. Then, later in the evening I had quite a bit of Budwiser because we were playing beer pong at a bar and that was the cheapest beer they had. After beer pong came a trip to PAPAYA DOG! (emphasis added by author, Ed.)
If you have never lived in NYC, you may very well have no idea what I'm talking about. They are chain restaurants that specialize in hot dogs. The standard hotdog is cooked for a good long time on a metal griddle. They have a great crispy texture to the outsides similar to Rutt's Hut's deep-fried hotdogs. Papaya dogs can also be pretty cheap which is why they are so special. I had a chili-cheese dog with mustard and onions and a corn dog with mustard. Both felt exceptionally amazing sloshing around in all of the cheap beer I'd "won" at the pong table. I finished the night off on what should have been a nice pint at O'Hanalan's Irish Pub with their house ale, the dark, but it was so malty and heavy and I was already so full of cheap beer and swill that it took me the better part of 45 minutes just to get through the one pint. It is quite possible that it's just not a good beer, but I'm withholding judgement until I can give it a more fair tasting.
Whew. Ok. Friday down. Satursunmontueswedthursfriday to go...
1 comment:
I don't think I'd know what a parsnip was if someone hit me with it. Pretty sad hole in my knowledge.
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