I am stuck: every time I put on a pair of tab closure pants, I am moved to go beltless. to me it says "look at me, I am a modern man. belts are very early 2007. I have moved on to a post-modern age of beltless pants."
but what if to others it simply says "look at me, I forgot to put on a belt"?
MILA: I might go to new york, or maybe chicago this break.
SIMON: great! can't go wrong with either of those two. Achatz is smoking hot! 5 diamonds, already!
MILA: Yeah, I'll probably hit Alinea. Can't wait to see what he's doing with the antigriddle. of course Moto's on the list, and Trotter's, out of respect for a classic.
SIMON: I hear that. Homaro seems to be firing on all cylinders lately. nitro! transglutaminase! the edible inks!
MILA: tell me about it. transglutaminase is so hot right now.
oops, wrong conversation.
MILA: I might go to new york, or maybe chicago this break. I hope I can get in to see Jerry Springer.
"it sounds like we're at a funeral"
"mozart sucks"
"can't we just listen to some JT?"
"rachmani turn it off"
"bach sucks"
"chopin sucks"
"I hate wagner"
"this sounds amateur"
"liszt sucks"
"I'm getting a headache"
"crapthoven"
if I ate enough pretzels and cheese ritz, would I get fat enough to hibernate? in the interest of scientific inquiry, I should at the very least go polish off that package of vanilla wafers.
I think that my ideal vehicle for cheese flavour would have to be shredded cheese. I love chowing down on handfuls of grated cheddar. so much more convenient than slicing off a piece, and somehow I think I prefer the mouthfeel.
a couple weeks ago I was struck with some killer insomnia. you see I had dreamt a dream so vivid and lifelike that I simply could not get back to sleep. when I started to tell mila about this dream, she was most flattered, since she had returned from her tropical vacation that very morning and was touched that I had been dreaming of her return.
the thing is, I was dreaming about someone else. yannick, to be precise. now at this point mila was for some reason less than enthusiastic for me to continue with my decription of my dream. but I persisted:
I had dreamt that yannick, maitre d'hotel extraordinaire, had enlisted my expert dining skills to act as a secret diner at splendido. I believe I was discussing the merits of a comment card tucked inside the bill when I awoke from this fantastic reverie. actually, we may have been discussing a host/guest menu system. or perhaps it was whether david was resting his meat in salted or unsalted butter - I really cannot recall for certain. anyway as you can see this is seriously sweet stuff. I would not be jealous if someone dreamed of this instead of dreaming of me. who can resist meat rested in butter?
inspired by my recent positive experience with coke zero, the new diet coke for men, I offer some suggestions for some more new products:
mr. pepper
mountain dude
gingermale
man pepsi
who thinks simon should be allowed to get a cowhide rug if he wants one!? zebra skin?
tacos tonight reminded me of the last time we had a texmex feast. incidentally, I think I could eat a dozen of those hard taco shells in one sitting. they are sensational. they get simon's best alternative dry carb from mexico award, no contest.
anyway, I yelled over to see if mila was ready to make dinner.
"I need to wait for los tostitos to disintegrate before we begin la fiesta texmex," said mila. you see, she had just had a handful or two of tostitos, and so was feeling a bit full.
"I need room for el guac," continued mila. "I will eat muchissimo guac."
she eats guacamole with a spoon. straight up guac. anyway, moral of the story, I think mila may be on los drogas.
well I guess that would be me. I was craving a coke a couple of hours ago. but seeing as I had just polished off a half bag of chips with mila, I thought I should go for a low-cal version. I went for the coke zero. now I knew nothing about it, but decided that it surely could not be much worse than diet coke, of which I am not a fan. indeed, it was not half bad, and I might be hard pressed to distinguish it from its full calorie sibling in a blind test.
but the best part of all this is that the internet reveals that coke zero is a brand targeted at young men. and somehow I was sucked into buying it, just based on my brief introduction to it in the checkout line at loblaws. so I guess this goes to show that I am a bit of a manly man after all.
did I tell you that I ate the 2006 canadian cheese grand prix winner this holiday season? well please do not be jealous when I tell you that I did indeed eat it. the winner of the 2006 grand prix, as well as the top cheese in the washed rind category, was La Sauvagine, or 'The Savage'. but if this washed-rind delight, hailing from Portneuf, Quebec, is a savage, colour me a barbarian.
the gates open, but there is no feral rush of overpowering pungency that one might expect from a washed rind. instead, this cheese oozes delicate and smooth civility. mild buttery fungal notes linger pleasantly, but La Sauvagine is not so uncouth as to overstay its welcome. overall, a classy gentleman to be sure, but do not be tricked into thinking this cheese has forgotten how to throw a punch - La Sauvagine will get you with its deliciously sour left hook when you least expect it.
not to inspire even further jealousy, but this was only one of eight cheeses I added to my diary this break. quite spectacular on that front, I would say.
I think in addition to sunday game night, I will have cheese board of the week once I am established. stilton and organic walnut loaf sure trumps black diamond and ritz for an influenceable young man.
I am really enjoying the increased mobility afforded to me by my sweatervest, but wow are my arms cold.
our current carton of rice dream (vanilla) expires 07SEP12. so either it expires some time in 2012, or else the hippies who made it are surprisingly adherent to ISO date standards and decided to list the year first. either way, how on earth can they make this rice milk last so long? it does not even need to be refrigerated until opening. I am highly suspicious.
p.s. I do not buy this hippy food. mila got it. I did sneak a little sip here and there because it is supposed to be high in iron, and who doesn't feel a little anaemic every once and a while?
dear neighbours,
I am pretty sure you think I am some kind of lowlife. you see, when I first saw your mother yesterday, I was on my way to home depot. I find that one gets better service there if you dress appropriately. evidently, this means either serious handyman (most home depot needs) or mandecorator chic (light electrical and finish-grade lumber only). since I was in no mood to break out my Hermes fabric swatch folder, nor my MTM Chavret in ironic plaid flannel, I dressed down for the handyman look. so you see I do not usually look like that, all flat-haired (handymen do not wear hair product, natch) and schleppily hoodied.
and then this morning I carried an almost-empty bag of garbage to the chute, because I heard construction noise and thought your door might be ajar, and I might be able to look in. the door was open, but you were in that door, and you saw me. unfortunately I was wearing slippers, white sports socks, and a bathrobe. hair and face were a disaster of grooming. again, I do not feel this is a fair representation of myself.
please do not think less of me.
sincerely,
simon
p.s. I am wearing a tuxedo and sipping on some cristal right now. I am somewhat concerned, however, that the bubbly is overpowering my beluga caviar. anyway, please excuse me, I have to go turn down my wagner as I can barely concentrate on this here tolstoy that I am reading.
dear mr. redenbacher:
you recently aired a television advertisement suggesting that your 'smart pop' popping corn was both trans fat free and as delicious as any other buttered microwave popping corn.
well orville let me tell you something: your popcorn tastes like sawdust. I like butter shooters, orville. do you think that I value my health so much that I am actually willing to compromise on flavour just to avoid a little trans fat? because I do not value it so much, orville. I value buttery flavour.
so in conclusion, orville redenbacher, shame on you for your outrageous and patently false advertising claims.
with paucity of flavour,
I blandly remain,
yours in vapidity,
simon
I guess if someone happened to add a paragraph to susur lee's wikipedia page suggesting lax standards at his restaurants, that would be okay by me.
on epicurious, the website of bon appetit and gourmet magazines, there is a place for users to enter their comments regarding the recipes. these cooks are notorious for making daft substitutions (didn't have parmesan for the salad, so I used cottage cheese instead. turned out a little watery. 0/4) or else making something they detest and then complaining about it (hate garlic, but I thought I would give the forty clove chicken a try because leanne from Wyoming said it was great! hated it. 0/4).
however this comment from "steve" is almost offensive in its blatant disregard for culinary basics: "Didn't have butter, so made a roux with a tbls. of flour and 1 cup of plain yogurt," said steve from Illinois.
okay steve, a roux is fat and flour, that is all it is. seriously, you cannot make a roux with yogurt. your yogurt roux makes me nauseous and offends me greatly. were rachael ray and bobby flay to confer on a dish, I do not think even they could produce anything so vile.
help please. my father is waving his hands in the air to michael jackson. my mother is playing air trombone to some vintage Chicago while she yells for alkaseltzer to counter her festive bloat. my siblings are, wisely, nowhere to be found. I need to go back to school.
okay my belly is very much full of christmas cake and nog. my fingers are too fat to type. so I will be back with more once the festive bloat subsides.
