Tony and I got off the plane to overcast skies, which grew darker and darker as we drove to the Aston Kanaapali Villas in Kaanapali. At one point, it started to rain, and naively, I said, "It's a quick tropical storm and will go away soon." I've come to realize that quick tropical storm will probably last until Monday.
We drove in the rain to dinner at the Haliimaile General Store (more about the food later), which was located in the up country or something like that. We realized later that the location of the restaurant was actually in the eye of the storm.
Mere words could not describe the weather. It was worthy of classification as a hurricane, and should be named "Tropical Claudine" or "Tropical Bruce" or whatever name is next in the alphabetic order of naming tropical squalls so that humans and insurance companies can easily classify and remember. The rain fell down in sheets, giant bucket fulls. The gods were not only crying, they were heaving angry sobs and tears, probably because Bacchus/Dionysus cruelly took away the wine. Rain alone was not enough...huge gusts of winds ensured that visibility was about 5 feet at the moment the windshield wiper cleared the water. Mudslides and flooding were of course standard fare.
The drive to dinner took about an hour and a half (and, yes, 15 minutes were spent lost). The drive back took longer, and I was thankful that I'd drunk enough wine that it all passed as if in an amusing, happy dream. I will be forever grateful to Tony for getting us back safely and in one piece.
Today, the shopgirl told us that in five years of living in Maui, she's never seen such extreme weather. Sigh....
Hard Lessons Involving Alcohol
***I acquired another flask from a Christmas party gift exchange. A few nights before leaving, I filled it up with V. Sattui Madeira (a delicious cross between brandy and port) and stuck it in my backpack...only to have to dump it down the drain in the women's restroom at SFO, when I discovered that the airlines forbid flasks in carry-on items. I almost cried. $10 of Madeira, never to be enjoyed. Thank goodness I didn't fill it up with the scarce liqueur from Spain.
***Maui liquor license laws forbid restaurants from uncorking bottles that customers bring. I learned that one the hard way too.
The Maillikailli General Store
Nilay told me repeatedly that I had to go to this restaurant. Being every much a foodie as I am, I eagerly took his advice. Definitely a great meal, and we'[ll probably go back.
The bar was great; well stocked, I started off with a belvedere cosmo and tony with a kettel one and tonic. We sat on the extended porch (the restaurant was once a general store, after all), watching the rain, people walking in and out, and disturbingly, a little boy that looked much like he was feeling up a little girl. Anyways...
The menu was amazing. Interesting food combinations, and frankly, we both had a hard time deciding what to eat. Sadly, we had eaten too much calamari and artichoke dip mid-afternoon so didn't eat as much as we could have, but still did well.
We started with ahi-taro cakes, much like crab cakes and served with pickled ginger and a wasabi-based sauce. As a main course, I had the coconut curry seafood stew (excellent) and Tony had lamb with black bean sauce (also excellent). For dessert, we shared coconut cake, incredibly light and delicious, although it probably would have been better without the bittersweet chocolate sauce. We chose a bottle of 1998 Miner Zinfandel (a great wine, one of my all-time favorites wineries).
Sunday, February 29, 2004
Wednesday, February 25, 2004
Sex Finale
In honor of the last episode EVER of Sex and the City, Caroline came over and I made a "celebratory" dinner: pad thai and spring rolls.
Actually, I was inspired by the opening of a new supermarket about three blocks from my house, the Golden Phoenix. I suspected that it might be an Asian market, but secretly hoped that it would be something like Adronico's or Vallergas. My first tip off when I walked in that it was an Asian themed market were the giant industrial sized sacks of rice by the door.
But as I wandered up and down the aisles, just wondering how someone would use "dried pork skin" or other odd things, began to get inspired. This was the place that I could find authentic, cheap ingredients without needing to go to three different stores. And thus, a new debit entry will begin appearing in my checkbook.
As always, the pad thai and spring rolls recipes came from Cooks Illustrated. Their pad thai recipe is the best that I've ever had - I was so inspired after cooking it for the first time that I made photocopies of the recipe and gave to my colleagues. The spring rolls were equally great (although, I admit, I didn't let the sugar dissolve enough in the dressing used for veggies and noodles). Nevertheless, Caroline and I scarfed...while we laughed and discussed the ladies of Sex and the City.
Of course, my meal was accompanied by comos, Caroline drank margaritas.
Actually, I was inspired by the opening of a new supermarket about three blocks from my house, the Golden Phoenix. I suspected that it might be an Asian market, but secretly hoped that it would be something like Adronico's or Vallergas. My first tip off when I walked in that it was an Asian themed market were the giant industrial sized sacks of rice by the door.
But as I wandered up and down the aisles, just wondering how someone would use "dried pork skin" or other odd things, began to get inspired. This was the place that I could find authentic, cheap ingredients without needing to go to three different stores. And thus, a new debit entry will begin appearing in my checkbook.
As always, the pad thai and spring rolls recipes came from Cooks Illustrated. Their pad thai recipe is the best that I've ever had - I was so inspired after cooking it for the first time that I made photocopies of the recipe and gave to my colleagues. The spring rolls were equally great (although, I admit, I didn't let the sugar dissolve enough in the dressing used for veggies and noodles). Nevertheless, Caroline and I scarfed...while we laughed and discussed the ladies of Sex and the City.
Of course, my meal was accompanied by comos, Caroline drank margaritas.
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
Saturday night...
Lots o' cooking over the weekend.
On Saturday night, made Greek Fish in a Packet from the Moosewood Cookbook (one of those trusty, great standby cookbooks). I sandwiched salmon between thinly sliced fennel, red onion and tomato, then poured a dressing with olive oil, vinegar and a few other things over the top.
I was inspired at TJ's last week - they now carry quinoa, a Peruvian grain that's difficult to explain, but like couscous, can accompany almost anything. Several years ago, I had seen Cooking With Caprial make a dish with quinoa. So, I dug through my recipes and found that original one. It was actually quite cryptic:
1 cup quinoa
2 cups chicken stock
-->cook
sherry vinegar
olive oil
garlic
dried mustard
That's it! I had no idea of proportions, so being me, just guessed. I threw in some balsamic and rice vinegar, but unfortunately, the dressing was overwhelmed by too much raw garlic and powdered mustard. Undaunted, I will try again...maybe this time completely by instinct.
On Saturday night, made Greek Fish in a Packet from the Moosewood Cookbook (one of those trusty, great standby cookbooks). I sandwiched salmon between thinly sliced fennel, red onion and tomato, then poured a dressing with olive oil, vinegar and a few other things over the top.
I was inspired at TJ's last week - they now carry quinoa, a Peruvian grain that's difficult to explain, but like couscous, can accompany almost anything. Several years ago, I had seen Cooking With Caprial make a dish with quinoa. So, I dug through my recipes and found that original one. It was actually quite cryptic:
1 cup quinoa
2 cups chicken stock
-->cook
sherry vinegar
olive oil
garlic
dried mustard
That's it! I had no idea of proportions, so being me, just guessed. I threw in some balsamic and rice vinegar, but unfortunately, the dressing was overwhelmed by too much raw garlic and powdered mustard. Undaunted, I will try again...maybe this time completely by instinct.
abstinence & the suburbs
new link to a friend's site, the single life from a male perspective:
http://www.thelowstandard.com
http://www.thelowstandard.com
Sunday, February 22, 2004
Sex = Over
Sex and the City, one of my favorite shows on TV over the past five years, is now officially over. Finished. Complete. No More.
Each character realized happiness and love.
Each character realized happiness and love.
Monday, February 16, 2004
Is Samantha really a slut?
Of the four characters on Sex and the City, Samantha definitely gets around the most. As a result, I've heard many refer to Samantha as "loose" and a "slut". But is this really true? Does this behavior warrant the types of terms that we used so diligently in high school to classify girls of a certain behavior?
Samantha certainly wears her sexuality as a badge. Throughout six seasons, she was never afraid to go after that which she desired...even going so far to proposition complete strangers for sex. In many ways, Samantha defined a different type of sexuality: she left her emotions at the door, using men and sex for her own purposes. Flip that last thought around by substituting male pronouns and then think about whether or not it has the same impact.
Samantha's behavior, most likely shown for the first time in an accessible public venue, eerily mimicked the behavior of some men. Beyond simply labeling her a "slut", I believe that Samantha's actions should be considered within a different light: that of a very secure female understanding and knowing what she wants and desires in life. For that, I do admire Samantha's character.
A friend told me a story about a guy she once knew. In one week, he dated a different woman each night, slept with each one and then never returned calls/e-mails. While the sensible part of me wondered just how tired he was at the end of that week, another part of me wondered just how many of those women he slept with had decisively used him too. Sometimes, you just know that no matter what, the night will have been a one-night stand, and despite swapping numbers and promising to keep in touch the next morning, neither party will ever make the effort.
Obviously, I don't think that Samantha is a slut. Instead of focusing on the number of men she had slept with (come on, wasn't the scene in which she had to tally a count while getting tested one of the best ever?), we should focus on her inate ability to control life and circumstances in ways that suit her. Her sexuality is a strong part of who she is, which actually, is admirable: she uses her sexuality to control her life, rather than let it use her.
Samantha certainly wears her sexuality as a badge. Throughout six seasons, she was never afraid to go after that which she desired...even going so far to proposition complete strangers for sex. In many ways, Samantha defined a different type of sexuality: she left her emotions at the door, using men and sex for her own purposes. Flip that last thought around by substituting male pronouns and then think about whether or not it has the same impact.
Samantha's behavior, most likely shown for the first time in an accessible public venue, eerily mimicked the behavior of some men. Beyond simply labeling her a "slut", I believe that Samantha's actions should be considered within a different light: that of a very secure female understanding and knowing what she wants and desires in life. For that, I do admire Samantha's character.
A friend told me a story about a guy she once knew. In one week, he dated a different woman each night, slept with each one and then never returned calls/e-mails. While the sensible part of me wondered just how tired he was at the end of that week, another part of me wondered just how many of those women he slept with had decisively used him too. Sometimes, you just know that no matter what, the night will have been a one-night stand, and despite swapping numbers and promising to keep in touch the next morning, neither party will ever make the effort.
Obviously, I don't think that Samantha is a slut. Instead of focusing on the number of men she had slept with (come on, wasn't the scene in which she had to tally a count while getting tested one of the best ever?), we should focus on her inate ability to control life and circumstances in ways that suit her. Her sexuality is a strong part of who she is, which actually, is admirable: she uses her sexuality to control her life, rather than let it use her.
car shopping
Nilay decided to buy a new car, but since the car of choice was primarily in manual mode, needed someone who could test drive a few models. I just have this to say: if I had $45K to drop on a new car (or even $30K on a used car) and wanted something fun, I'd strongly consider the little 2-seater Mercedes convertible. Sweet, sweet car.
We ended up in the city a few blocks from the Haight, so had lunch at one of my favorite little dives. It's called "Healthy" something or other...I can never remember the name, but always appreciate the food. Definitely Mexican, but with a California/gourmet twist. We split nachos (mixed corn and flour tortilla chips, yum!) and then I had a salmon taco and shrimp taco with tamarind sauce.
BTW, Haight might have gotten even scummier since last summer when I was there last. But, I could be mistaken too, after all, I've been living in the suburbs.
We ended up in the city a few blocks from the Haight, so had lunch at one of my favorite little dives. It's called "Healthy" something or other...I can never remember the name, but always appreciate the food. Definitely Mexican, but with a California/gourmet twist. We split nachos (mixed corn and flour tortilla chips, yum!) and then I had a salmon taco and shrimp taco with tamarind sauce.
BTW, Haight might have gotten even scummier since last summer when I was there last. But, I could be mistaken too, after all, I've been living in the suburbs.
Friday, February 13, 2004
stuff...
A friend's Valentine's Day write-up:
http://www.geocities.com/repub00
Been eating leftovers over the past week. I think I'm going to have to make some space in the freezer for the remaining minestrone. As delicious as it is, I just can't eat anymore.
Stretched out an excellent bottle of 2000 Drytown Zin to three nights. A few years ago, a bottle came with my monthly wine club shipment. It sat on the wine rack for a few months; I ended up taking it to a friend's house for dinner. My friend and his bf liked it so much that they visited the winery, talked to the winemaker and bought several bottles. Very spicy, quite nice.
http://www.geocities.com/repub00
Been eating leftovers over the past week. I think I'm going to have to make some space in the freezer for the remaining minestrone. As delicious as it is, I just can't eat anymore.
Stretched out an excellent bottle of 2000 Drytown Zin to three nights. A few years ago, a bottle came with my monthly wine club shipment. It sat on the wine rack for a few months; I ended up taking it to a friend's house for dinner. My friend and his bf liked it so much that they visited the winery, talked to the winemaker and bought several bottles. Very spicy, quite nice.
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
cooking! Missing recipes!
The newest Cooks Illustrated arrived last week, so over the weekend, I made chicken biryani from the book. The recipe took several steps, but was quite good. Caroline, who is a huge Indian food fan, agreed that it was very authentic.
Mom had talked about the minestrone soup she made last weekend, so I decided to make minestrone on Sunday. I found a recipe in a new cookbook, scanned it, bought the ingredients...and only later did I realize that the recipe had forgotten to mention what to do with half the ingredients! Bad editor! Bad editor!
A quick phone call home to Mom, some other research and I succeeded in making decent minestrone. I sauteed garlic, onions, carrots and celery, added water in which I'd soaked the beans and the beans. After cooking for about 20 minutes, I threw in a tomato, green beans, peas, carrots, spinach, cabbage and a parmesan rind. When the soup was almost done, I added a zucchini, more spinach and pesto (which I happily discovered is incredibly easy to make with cuisinart).
Recent wines:
1999 Yorkville Merlot (a seductive wine, excellent)
Charles Shaw Gamay Beaujolais (very tasty for $2)
1999 Viaje Syrah (on the cheaper end, quite nice once it opened up)
Mom had talked about the minestrone soup she made last weekend, so I decided to make minestrone on Sunday. I found a recipe in a new cookbook, scanned it, bought the ingredients...and only later did I realize that the recipe had forgotten to mention what to do with half the ingredients! Bad editor! Bad editor!
A quick phone call home to Mom, some other research and I succeeded in making decent minestrone. I sauteed garlic, onions, carrots and celery, added water in which I'd soaked the beans and the beans. After cooking for about 20 minutes, I threw in a tomato, green beans, peas, carrots, spinach, cabbage and a parmesan rind. When the soup was almost done, I added a zucchini, more spinach and pesto (which I happily discovered is incredibly easy to make with cuisinart).
Recent wines:
1999 Yorkville Merlot (a seductive wine, excellent)
Charles Shaw Gamay Beaujolais (very tasty for $2)
1999 Viaje Syrah (on the cheaper end, quite nice once it opened up)
Sunday, February 08, 2004
Golden Era & the Cult
To celebrate Tony's 31st on Feb 4, several of his closest and most fabulous friends gathered at Golden Era for dinner. The suicide wanna-be jumper at the building next door did nothing to dull the moment (while walking past, the cop even smiled at me, I think because I was maybe normal and not gawking at the man standing in the window on the 5th floor).
Golden Era is notable for two reasons: all food is vegan; the restaurant is owned and run by members of the Cult of Ching Hai. I don't think I really imagined the slightly glazed look in the eyes of those serving us.
http://www.godsimmediatecontact.com/
http://www.cultnews.com/archives/000723.html
The vegan food did a fabulous job of conveying the impression that one was actually eating meat through texturization and preparation of various sorts of foods like soy, wheat, gluten, etc. I kid you not, the "chicken" and "fish" tasted very much like real chicken and fish.
While walking back to my car, I began to question my impressions of the "fake" meat. We could have had a fulfilling and just as delicious meal without the approximated chicken, beef and fish. Yet, for some reason, we were compelled to try to convince ourselves that we were consuming real cow, fowl and fish. Doesn't that somehow seem wrong? While I respect why one would choose to be a vegan (or vegetarian for that matter), is it really necessary to "fool" oneself into thinking that meat is being consumed?
Golden Era is notable for two reasons: all food is vegan; the restaurant is owned and run by members of the Cult of Ching Hai. I don't think I really imagined the slightly glazed look in the eyes of those serving us.
http://www.godsimmediatecontact.com/
http://www.cultnews.com/archives/000723.html
The vegan food did a fabulous job of conveying the impression that one was actually eating meat through texturization and preparation of various sorts of foods like soy, wheat, gluten, etc. I kid you not, the "chicken" and "fish" tasted very much like real chicken and fish.
While walking back to my car, I began to question my impressions of the "fake" meat. We could have had a fulfilling and just as delicious meal without the approximated chicken, beef and fish. Yet, for some reason, we were compelled to try to convince ourselves that we were consuming real cow, fowl and fish. Doesn't that somehow seem wrong? While I respect why one would choose to be a vegan (or vegetarian for that matter), is it really necessary to "fool" oneself into thinking that meat is being consumed?
Superbowl XX??? Ads
Superbowl ads are always an interesting topic. Thankfully, the flatness and tackiness of the ads (notwithstanding male impotence, which seems to be an issue American men are dealing with - am I missing something?) was overshadowed by Justin Timberlake's baring of Janet Jackson's breast (now appropriately dubbed "teatgate" by Jon Stewart). However, one ad, which I've tivoed through repeatedly since being shown at the superbowl did make me pause for thought: the anti-drug ad, featuring person drowning in a lake while friend stands on the dock, observing impassionately.
First, I object to the anti-drug, warrish attitude that America has taken on what are considered illegal substances. Personally, I think that alcoholics can be far worse than potheads. And those that have bigger drug issues need help and clean needles.
But beyond that, I object to the ads message that you are a horrible person if you let your friend drown in drug abuse, implying that your complacency supports the addiction. Oftentimes, drug abusers are masters of disguise. They can happily coexist with friends and family without missing a beat. Without understanding and recognizing the signs of drug abuse, the lies an abuser tells friends and family are believed and accepted. Sometimes, the person is drowning at the other end of the lake, and you can't do anything about it. You don't know they're drowning, and when you do put the pieces together, it's too late.
Marty, one of my best friends over the past decade, disappeared last winter. We last spoke on January 6, 2003. His line was disconnected about a week later, although at the time, I thought he had once again been a victim of technology failing (he has a history of weird technical glitches impacting his life). Piecing facts together, a few weeks later he showed up at his mom's house and said he was going back to Chicago to get his cats and move to St. Louis for a new job. None of that happened, instead, I discovered in early March that he had abandoned his life in Chicago, his cats, his friends, his family...
I knew that Marty played around with drugs. I just didn't know that he had a serious habit. Things have now clicked into place - lies that he told are clearly revealed as covers for his drug habits. I had never been around someone with a serious drug problem, and the fact is, I just didn't understand or think about the signs that were so clearly positioned in front of me. I never assumed that one of my closest friends, someone whom I loved and would do anything to help and protect, would be a junkie.
During one of our last conversations, Marty gave me his mom's phone number. I called her a few times after he disappeared. Our last conversation, in the spring, was incredibly painful and poignant. We both were crying by the time the call ended. I haven't called her since - mainly because I'm too afraid of what I might hear.
I purposely didn't tell many friends/family about Marty's disappearance and its cause. I felt too guilty, too ashamed of the fact that I didn't do anything to stop him. I still feel guilty that I didn't see the signs. It's taken almost a year to come to terms, I've tried. But sometimes, despite best efforts, you fail. Especially if you don't know what kind of battle you're up against. Me vs. drugs - the drugs won.
I miss Marty. We used to talk at least a few times each month. Discussions were about everything: our hopes, our dreams, boys, sex, work, school, families, movies, politics, books, favorite drinks (alcohol), my cooking (with the exception of a few dishes, Marty was hopeless in the kitchen), his eating. We even took a few vacations together - alcohol laden affairs involving hopefully legal behavior.
I truly hope that he's still alive. I hope that he soon comes to terms with who he is and swims to the surface for air. I can't believe that he'll forever float in that lake, far away from me.
First, I object to the anti-drug, warrish attitude that America has taken on what are considered illegal substances. Personally, I think that alcoholics can be far worse than potheads. And those that have bigger drug issues need help and clean needles.
But beyond that, I object to the ads message that you are a horrible person if you let your friend drown in drug abuse, implying that your complacency supports the addiction. Oftentimes, drug abusers are masters of disguise. They can happily coexist with friends and family without missing a beat. Without understanding and recognizing the signs of drug abuse, the lies an abuser tells friends and family are believed and accepted. Sometimes, the person is drowning at the other end of the lake, and you can't do anything about it. You don't know they're drowning, and when you do put the pieces together, it's too late.
Marty, one of my best friends over the past decade, disappeared last winter. We last spoke on January 6, 2003. His line was disconnected about a week later, although at the time, I thought he had once again been a victim of technology failing (he has a history of weird technical glitches impacting his life). Piecing facts together, a few weeks later he showed up at his mom's house and said he was going back to Chicago to get his cats and move to St. Louis for a new job. None of that happened, instead, I discovered in early March that he had abandoned his life in Chicago, his cats, his friends, his family...
I knew that Marty played around with drugs. I just didn't know that he had a serious habit. Things have now clicked into place - lies that he told are clearly revealed as covers for his drug habits. I had never been around someone with a serious drug problem, and the fact is, I just didn't understand or think about the signs that were so clearly positioned in front of me. I never assumed that one of my closest friends, someone whom I loved and would do anything to help and protect, would be a junkie.
During one of our last conversations, Marty gave me his mom's phone number. I called her a few times after he disappeared. Our last conversation, in the spring, was incredibly painful and poignant. We both were crying by the time the call ended. I haven't called her since - mainly because I'm too afraid of what I might hear.
I purposely didn't tell many friends/family about Marty's disappearance and its cause. I felt too guilty, too ashamed of the fact that I didn't do anything to stop him. I still feel guilty that I didn't see the signs. It's taken almost a year to come to terms, I've tried. But sometimes, despite best efforts, you fail. Especially if you don't know what kind of battle you're up against. Me vs. drugs - the drugs won.
I miss Marty. We used to talk at least a few times each month. Discussions were about everything: our hopes, our dreams, boys, sex, work, school, families, movies, politics, books, favorite drinks (alcohol), my cooking (with the exception of a few dishes, Marty was hopeless in the kitchen), his eating. We even took a few vacations together - alcohol laden affairs involving hopefully legal behavior.
I truly hope that he's still alive. I hope that he soon comes to terms with who he is and swims to the surface for air. I can't believe that he'll forever float in that lake, far away from me.
Monday, February 02, 2004
a Few TV Notes
Only three more episodes of Sex and the City. I can't believe that Carrie dissed her friends to spend time with her new and beautiful boyfriend.
I set a season pass on my TiVo for American Idol. I couldn't help it. Simon and Randy are so incredibly cruel to the contestants, it's delicious. Paula is kind of a bubblehead. I have no idea how this show will unfold after the initial auditions...but I'll be finding out. Maybe I'll even write sarcastic episode recaps like I did after getting sucked in to the first Joe Millionaire. :)
I set a season pass on my TiVo for American Idol. I couldn't help it. Simon and Randy are so incredibly cruel to the contestants, it's delicious. Paula is kind of a bubblehead. I have no idea how this show will unfold after the initial auditions...but I'll be finding out. Maybe I'll even write sarcastic episode recaps like I did after getting sucked in to the first Joe Millionaire. :)
Reno Vacation
Not surprising, the phrase "Reno Vacation" does not have quite the same ring as "Vegas Vacation". As an aside, I wonder if I ever saw that movie? Something tells me that even if I didn't, I could probably tell you the jokes and the plot.
Reno is an interesting city. It really tries to be a miniature Vegas, but lacks that special level of tackiness and over the topness that Vegas succeeds in capturing so well. Reno is trying to catch up...but probably won't ever be able to. Nevertheless, in terms of sheer entertainment - whether that be acts, people watching or outdoor activities - Reno does do well.
On the trip up, I happily discovered that Togo's has reinstated the cranberry turkey sandwich. Yeah!!!
We ate dinner at Claim Jumper Saturday night. I haven't eaten at Claim Jumper in at least 10 years. The quality of the food is actually pretty good. But the portions are the epitomy of American gluttonliness. They were huge! Caroline and I split a tropical-themed salad (butter lettuce, cranberries, oranges, avocados in a sweet oil and vinegar) and the whiskey sauce chicken (chicken breast stuffed with a heavy, sweet sauce) accompanied by mashed potatoes and a giant biscuit. We barely ate half the salad, and an optimist would say we got through about a third of the main course. Of the 11 of us at the table, not one person got through their meal. I wonder why America suffers from a weight problem.
Reno is an interesting city. It really tries to be a miniature Vegas, but lacks that special level of tackiness and over the topness that Vegas succeeds in capturing so well. Reno is trying to catch up...but probably won't ever be able to. Nevertheless, in terms of sheer entertainment - whether that be acts, people watching or outdoor activities - Reno does do well.
On the trip up, I happily discovered that Togo's has reinstated the cranberry turkey sandwich. Yeah!!!
We ate dinner at Claim Jumper Saturday night. I haven't eaten at Claim Jumper in at least 10 years. The quality of the food is actually pretty good. But the portions are the epitomy of American gluttonliness. They were huge! Caroline and I split a tropical-themed salad (butter lettuce, cranberries, oranges, avocados in a sweet oil and vinegar) and the whiskey sauce chicken (chicken breast stuffed with a heavy, sweet sauce) accompanied by mashed potatoes and a giant biscuit. We barely ate half the salad, and an optimist would say we got through about a third of the main course. Of the 11 of us at the table, not one person got through their meal. I wonder why America suffers from a weight problem.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)