I remember being in Middle School and loathing Sunday because it meant my best friend at the time and I couldn’t continue staying up until 2 in the morning playing video games until Friday rolled around a few days later. It was back when an obscene amount of pointless homework/even more pointless projects had to be done for Monday and it was Middle School, which I’m told is somehow worse now than it was back when I was in it. But that was before we all grew up and learned about the activity/lifestyle decision known as brunch.
Brunch, which both the Oxford English Dictionary and the Merriam-Webster Dictionary mislabel as being only a noun, is, after all, the only time when drinking before noon is socially accepted outside of France, Italy, all colleges/universities other than Bob Jones University, and of course, the fourth hour of Today. By the way, NBC, if y’all just let Kathie Lee and Hoda host all four hours, your ratings would be soaring! Think about it, drunk Kathie Lee at 7h0 interviewing Senators and covering actual hard news stories! Hoda used to be able to do the serious news bit, but it’s not known at the present time if the booze-filled haze Kathie Lee introduced her to has permanently hindered her ability to report real news, though it would be fun to find out!
For further proof that cocktail hour at Today is the best part of the show, just watch this video in its entirety:
Brunch is wonderful for reasons other than bloodies and mimosas. It’s the only meal where everyone gets to have pregnant woman cravings. You want an ice cream sundae with a salad and waffles? Go for it! Apple tart with an omelet on a bed of mashed potatoes? Why not! And if you’re lucky and your club or hotel does a buffet for its brunch, well then it’s basically an epicurean free-for-all complete with carving stations, raw bars and entire sections/rooms dedicated to dessert. And once you’re done pretending like you have to eat for two (hundred), the New York Times gives you eight sections and a magazine to read!
Sure, there are athletic competitions to watch in the late afternoon, but it’s at night that Sunday shines its brightest. See, television executives know that by 20h0, you’re close to being sober (if you aren’t and you’re not in college or hosting most entertaining hour of television ever, then you might want to consider joining AA. It’s just a thought). Therefore, they know that you need something get you excited for Monday morning. So what do they do? They put their best shows on Sunday nights.
Let’s think about this for a second. Homeland, Downton Abbey, Entourage, Mad Men, that surprisingly good show Girls, M*A*S*H, both runs of Upstairs Downstairs, The Newsroom, and Sunday Night Football are all shows that currently air or did air on Sunday nights. And why do they do this? Because they know that during the week, we have some semblance of lives and that only disturbed people are watching TV on Friday nights, hence that’s when NBC airs Dateline. Plus, except for SNL, we have better things to do with our lives on Saturday. But Sunday nights are usually spent at home in front of a television where we belong.
So Sunday, please accept my apology for ever thinking you were anything but the best day of the week. Now if y’all will excuse me, I’m late for brunch. Until next time…
JD
PS: It’s a new year, which magazines and bad daytime television shows tell us is the perfect time to completely redo our lives. With that in mind, I thought it was time to redo the look of this site. Hope y’all enjoy it, and if you don’t, that’s nice. Oh yeah, and as for that ’61 Latour, if anyone wants to share, Michel Dovaz’s book Fine Wines say s that you only have until 2025 to drink it, so give me a call!
Welcome to April, quite possibly the most stressful month of the year. Amazingly, I got off to a good start this week and I’m somehow ahead of schedule for this week in terms of work. I’m convinced it’s because Katie Couric is back on TV in the morning. That’s not a joke either. In case y’all don’t know, Katie is co-hosting Good Morning America this week while Robin Roberts is on vacation and I have to say that it was such a breath of fresh air to have the bubbly personality back to wake me up! The last nearly ten months of Ann Curry has just been painful and I think we can all agree that she belongs back at Dateline because the stories reported on by Dateline work better with her facial expressions and over-caring.
Meanwhile, a few things have happened in the last few weeks, most notably being that Justin was told by the law firm he was working at that his services were no longer required, even though they just gave him a promotion of some sort. Naturally, nothing else has changed because he’s still continuing to remind me daily that I’m still in school and how he doesn’t have to take finals and write papers. The only difference is that now he can remind me all day long, when he’s not working on his tan, that is.
Moving up the East Coast to North Carolina, Andrew actually saw The Hunger Games, this year’s Twilight and while every girl I know who has seen it-Andrew is also the only guy I know who has seen it-loved every minute of the seemingly pointless movie, Andrew wasn’t impressed. He’s more excited about today’s re-release of Titanic, which is being brought back to the big screen in time for the 100th anniversary of the ocean liner’s sinking. Now I understand why it seems like such a big deal being in 3D and whatnot, but I just… I don’t really see the point in having to wear special glasses just so I can see a movie. Furthermore, I don’t get why I need to have things come off the screen. If I had wanted to be apart of the scene, I would have tried out for a role in the movie.
Yet, I’m apparently in the minority on this because every movie is now being made in 3D. The biggest reason for why I probably won’t be seeing Titanic, though, is not about it being in 3D, or even because I don’t think James Cameron needs any more money. Instead, it’s because I don’t know how many more times I can handle hearing that damn “My Heart Will Go On” being played. But, again, I’m in the minority on this one since the Caesar’s Palace Colosseum (which is actually how they spell it) is sold out night after night so people can see Céline Dion do this:
Justin is so excited about seeing Titanic (and hearing Céline belt it out) that he’s going tonight, because he has some free time. Maybe after, he’ll enjoy a nice piña colada, which I’m slightly embarrassed to say was the first alcoholic beverage Justin told me he ever ordered. Mine was a glass of white Spanish wine when I was in Lugano, Switzerland with Mother and my Aunt Wendy. I’m still mad at myself for never finding out the name of it. Also, I’m waiting for ABC to air the Titanic two-night miniseries written by Julian Fellowes that airs on the 14th and 15th of April.
Back here in Virginia, it’s been a busy couple of weeks and my mind has finally consented to the idea that we have to go back to school after kind of refusing for a while after Spring Break. Two weekends ago, however, work was swept aside for something far more important. It started Friday night when I went with my dear friend and hall mate, Lindsay, to try the Whiskey Jar on the Downtown Mall. Now I have been trying to get into the Whiskey Jar for weeks because it just looks like a cool place, but it is always overflowing with people. Yet that night, the stars were aligned and even though we were seated up against a hideous concrete retaining wall, at least we were seated outside on a perfectly gorgeous evening. The location did get a bit better once I realized that the couple at the table behind Lindsay was on that beyond awkward first date based on the nervous conversation that was taking place. And yes, that means I was eavesdropping the entire time. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help it; I just love knowing other peoples’s business.
Now, as for the food, it was Southern food euphoria. We started with the hush puppies & sweet potato biscuits, which were served with apple & sorghum butters. Now I’m not a huge biscuit eater, but the sweet potato gave it this flavor that made it so welcoming and when combined with that apple butter, it makes one wonder why people would rather spend their money on cheap liquor when they could be eating these little bundles of joy! The hush puppies, equally scrumptious (yes, I feel it’s time to bring that word back), took me right back to when I went to summer camp in North Carolina and they would take us to Moorhead City for a weekend and the Sanitary Restaurant, where they would take us for dinner the first night, gave us these amazing hush puppies and I rarely if ever see them anywhere so it was so a real treat to have them. We also split the fried quail & homemade coleslaw because it was so nice outside that it felt like it was time to start eating summer foods and I feel that coleslaw is one of those ultimate summer foods on the beach or by the pool. The quail was crispy and just…one almost wants to join Dick Cheney on his next quail hunt to get some more.
For our entrees, Lindsay and I are like-minded eaters who both chose the ultimate Southern food, fried chicken. Aside from being something that will kill you if you eat it too often, in all honesty, the only eatable fried chicken comes from the South. It doesn’t matter if you take a black, Southern grandmother up North, the fried chicken won’t taste the way it does in the South. It was so crispy on the outside, tender on the inside; melt in your mouth, can you taste the butter, my mouth is watering right now at the very thought of them, and the accompanying collards, which are not and have never been a staple of my diet, were like eating healthy candy. Initially, I told Lindsay that I was definitely going to have some leftovers to take home because the portion was so good, but by the time the waiter cleared our plates, very little remained aside from the chicken bones, which I don’t recommend eating. The next time I go back, I’m trying the side of macaroni & cheese I didn’t see this first visit. Also, it was surprisingly inexpensive; the fried chicken was only $12, so it’s very college budget-friendly, even though I know some people who would argue that it’s better to spend that $12 on three beers at the Corner instead. I don’t eat with them.
From an affordable dinner on Friday night, Saturday night was a little different. That night was the 49th annual Restoration Ball, an event Grace and I have been talking about attending together for three years. The black tie ball raises money for the restoration of the Rotunda here at UVa. The night, regardless of the amount of fun we had, was not without its problems. First of all, it didn’t just drizzle as expected. Oh no, it poured the way it pours in a rain forest! Did I mention this took place under a tent? Also, while Grace and I actually tried to look good, some people thought this was a perfectly good time to dust off the old prom dresses, which was not a good idea! To make things worse, those of us over the age of 21 were treated to sparkling wine, but it was inside a nearby building that we had to run to in the downpour, and they ran out very early in the evening!
But it was a lot of fun, especially the part where they made us perform the Virginia reel, which Grace claims we learned how to do in the Third Grade. Do y’all remember what you learned in the Third Grade because I sure as hell don’t! Thankfully, I wasn’t the only person who didn’t know it because we got a crash course before beginning. After what was probably the highlight of the night, Grace decided it was time for us to move on, and by move on, I mean sprint to the Corner to bars before going back to her apartment to order copious amounts of borderline uneatable food I would never normally eat because I don’t want to die at 30 and eat it while watching Eat Pray Love, the movie that made me decide to study abroad in Italy (not much has changed; that bowl of pasta still looks so happy!). It was a truly memorable night and I’m so glad Grace, who looked radiant in her vintage Badgley Mischka gown, and I finally got to go!
Flash-forward five days to last Friday and I did something I never thought I’d do, I went to a jazz concert at a fraternity house. Lindsay schlepped me over to the Delta Upsilon fraternity house, which is most civilized one I’ve been in because it’s also the newest house at UVa. My other experiences at fraternity houses here at UVa have seen me standing in puddles of alcohol, being dragged by Grace halfway down a flight of stairs to a basement filled with “water” that I refused to get near (I didn’t want to risk having to get my legs amputated), painfully loud music, and how could I ever forget the stench of cheap beer mixed with grain alcohol and throw-up. This was about as far from any of that as one can imagine, save for the beer and grain alcohol, well it was bourbon.
Now this place was actually clean, no doubt thanks to pledges who did such a lovely job of wiping up the floors the second someone spilled something; if any of you would like to make extra money, I’d pay for my apartment to be cleaned because I despise doing it. Unfortunately, in what must be a cost-cutting measure to pay for this beautiful frat house, the DU men served up Keystone Light Beer. Y’all, I thought it couldn’t get worse than Fratty Natty. Oh no, it turns out I was wrong. Imagine drinking water that’s been infused with hops; it’s like cucumber water, only absolutely revolting! Now I know why people carry flasks with them!
Anyway, the next day, Miss Lindsay and I met at the very civilized hour of 11 to head over to the Pigeon Hole to partake in the best meal ever invented, brunch. Who doesn’t love brunching? It’s not just the food that makes brunch the perfect meal because when one brunches, it’s always done with friends/relatives if we must and it’s the only time when one is no longer in college for it to be perfectly acceptable to drink before noon without being labeled an alcoholic. Granted, these alcoholic beverages are limited to either a mimosa or a bloody mary, but you can’t really go wrong with either.
Unfortunately, most of my friends look down on things like brunch. Andrew needs to do the three meals a day in order to “survive;” Justin is now on some nut workout that means he is eating five small meals and nothing on a brunch menu is designed for that; and Grace sleeps until well after brunch time. Lindsay is a diamond in this rough of boring so she and I decided that since we could have a mimosa whenever, we’d go for the less conventional “cranmosa,” which is champagne with cranberry juice, and they were quite good, if I may say so myself. Lindsay went all out Southern for her selection of the biscuits & red eye gravy, accompanied with lots of hash browns. I stayed with the more conventional French toast option, which came with sliced apples that were glazed in cinnamon and just so yummy! I also got hash browns, but didn’t pay much attention to them.
Following brunch, we decided that since it was such a beautiful day, we would take our homework outside and do the cliché UVa student studying on the lawn thing. However, too many other people beat us to the lawn so we ditched that plan and headed to the fine arts school’s courtyard. On the way, we noticed that the UVa club rugby team was playing UNC and of course we got distracted and watched. Fortunately, I had my camera with me; this is the only photo I liked:
After about an hour of watching rugby, a sport neither of us understands (don’t even get me started on the location of hands), it started to rain and we quickly took shelter in the fine arts school’s library and actually got work done before heading to a wine and cheese tasting at Feast, the amazing specialty foods store not far from grounds. I absolutely love their charcuterie department because they have such a great variety of local and out of the ordinary meats from which to choose. Plus, they sell something called chocolate goat cheese, which I have yet to try but plan to very soon.
All of this talk about food is the perfect segway for me to mention an article I read in the April 2nd issue of New York about my generation’s desire to actually care about food. In case y’all haven’t noticed, I live for food. I decided to start this blog after watching movie about Julia Child (food), I picked my study abroad country after seeing a bowl of pasta, I have spent the equivalent of a paycheck on a meal more than ten times in the last year without any remorse, and to be perfectly honest, I just love eating.
Unfortunately, the majority of my generation feels that it is perfectly acceptable to eat what can only be described as garbage; y’all might know them as frozen and other assorted pre-packaged foods. They would rather spend their money going out to get drunk, sometimes to the point that they blackout. Now I’m not saying that blacking out is a bad thing (on the contrary, as a shareholder of Anheuser-Busch InBev, the more you drink, the better the profit they’ll have for the next quarter, which means the more the street will like the stock, therefore meaning that the stock price will climb and I’ll make money off of your weekend you can’t remember), I just wish that there were more food lovers in my life, not that I’m saying I’m a foodie in any way whatsoever.
I actually have serious issues with people who feel the incessant need to photograph everything they eat in order to share the meal with others as opposed to enjoying it in the moment. At the same time, if one is too busy photographing the food, think of all the things being missed during this time: the incredible aroma that is rising off the plate and into the camera instead of the nostrils or just the overall atmosphere of the restaurant itself; many people don’t realize it, but the atmosphere of a restaurant does have an impact on the overall dining experience. Most of all, if you’re spending all your time photographing your food, then you could be missing out on the couple breaking up at the table just inches from yours at the Serafina on 61st between Park & Madison; and then she leaves and he’s sitting there for what seems like an eternity before realizing that she has his wallet! That whole mini-drama didn’t necessarily make the food taste any better, but it made the meal unforgettable. Y’all need to remember that the consumption of any meal, whether it is eating a bagel while walking to class or the tasting menu at Jean-Georges, is an experience that should be worth remembering. That’s all.
First of all, greetings from the pool in Palm Beach. Let me tell y’all, not only does it beat not having that stupid tree to disassemble and then toss, I love that it’s 82°F right now as I begin writing this!
Now, I also love that Auto Train! This year, I traveled “economy” without a cabin and it was quite a different experience! Unlike last year where I had the privacy of my own cabin and a bed to sleep on while we zipped our way through the South, I spent my evening next to a Cuban-American, who no doubt swam the 90 miles from Fidel-Land (an amusement park closed to Americans since 1962) to Miami back during the Johnson Administration. The man took up half my seat, which was fine because I managed to read nearly every magazine I brought with me on the train (all nine of them). Plus, I met some fellow Wahoos at dinner, which was pretty exciting since when I was at Rollins, I would have to spend 20 minutes explaining where Rollins was to people before we could move on. Y’all, I had never been so excited to see a palm tree in my entire life to the point that when I disembarked the train in Sanford, I took the following photo:
It was 80°F, so I’m excused. This year, I decided that before heading down to South Florida, I’d spend a little time in Winter Park, so naturally I stayed with Justin, which was so much fun. Justin lives in a most unique one-bedroom apartment not far from his alma mater, Rollins, where we exchanged gifts (he gave me “Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim” by David Sedaris, which is great because I need a non-Kindle book every now and then. I gave him an obscene number of unworn shirts that were all the wrong size, and he accepted them gladly, so nobody needs to give me any grief for admitting to re-gifting! It was either him or Goodwill, and the Goodwill in Palm Beach wouldn’t take Brooks Brothers seriously enough!
Following the “house tour” and gift exchange, we headed off to Park Avenue where we lunched at Barnie’s CoffeeKitchen, which has completely redone itself in an attempt to mirror Pain du Quotidien and isn’t half bad. We then strolled up and down the Avenue looking into all of the little stores before heading back to Justin’s to change for dinner at old favorite, Luma. We did, however, have dessert at an amazing new restaurant called Prato, which I’ve just learned is owned by the same people who own Luma. We tried so hard to get in, but clearly we’re not important enough for them. Divas!
Sunday morning was spent brunching at the Eola Wine Company, which we could never frequent when I was at Rollins due to the fact that it’s a wine bar and we were under 21 at the time. Brunch was delicious, with both us having the Lox. I had a mimosa, since that is what one drinks at brunch, while Justin, who feels anything involving champagne or wine to be emasculating for some bizarre and unknown reason, opted for an Austrian beer. The visit, although short, was great fun and I’m so glad I was able to see Justin for an extended period of time , seeing as our last encounter was for dinner in New York four months earlier.
Well, three hours of I-95 later, I arrived at my idea of heaven, Palm Beach! I don’t know if it’s the air, the Waspyness, the fact that our Publix offers valet parking, getting to walk on the beach every morning, or knowing that it’s not Boca, but Palm Beach is without question my sanctuary; it is the only place where I forget what day of the week it is. I’ve never gotten work done here and it’s as if time seems to stand still for me, which, given the hectic life I generally lead, is a welcome thing. My earliest memory is of this island and it’s the most special place on earth if you ask me.
Since arriving in paradise, I’ve done a lot of nothing, which has been terrific! I get up at 7 for either a walk on the beach or a run on the bike path, spend the rest of the day trying to read the eight books I brought with me, but unlike years past when I could do this poolside with only Brooklyn accents interrupting the birds, our building has been invaded by workmen who jackhammer from 9-5 every day! Our balcony has been commandeered by our building as they attempt to stage an invasion not seen since Operation Barbarossa in World War II. And just like the Nazis, the construction company redoing our balconies didn’t really think about what would happen after they started. Ah the joys of home ownership!
Meanwhile, I’ve spent a great deal of time at the movies this past week, seeing Sherlock Holmes, Young Adult and Mission Impossible IV, which were all great movies, but of the three, I found Mission Impossible to be the most captivating because for some reason, little Tom Cruise makes an entertaining movie, and judging by the ending, there’s going to be another movie. Though, I don’t know if anyone, myself included, is going to believe that an over 50 Tom Cruise is going to perform all those stunts because once you hit 50, the back goes nuts, the hair officially goes, you’re blind as a bat, can’t run nearly as fast as you could when you were 30, and most likely arthritic. Now you tell me how a blind, obese, arthritic, out of shape, balding, back-spazm prone guy is supposed to do all of this:
I rest my case.
As for Sherlock Holmes, I loved it (my mother loved Robert Downey Jr.), but it was so much longer than I expected. Also, I thought the era of drag was over, especially after this lovely moment in 2000:
As for Young Adult, it’s a dark comedy that really requires the viewer to be in the seat and watching the whole time (I hate people who leave in the middle of a movie; it’s so tacky and annoying). Although very humorous, the movie was very serious and somewhat sad, which was not expected.
Tonight, assuming Andrew ever calls me back, we’re seeing The Adventures of Tintin, which I read in French classes and want to see so badly. In fact, Justin, who rarely goes to see movies made during his actual lifetime, wants to see this movie, so it has to be good if it’s good enough for him to pay to see it! As for The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, I’ll get to it this week. The movies I really can’t wait to see, though, is The Iron Lady with the greatest actor of all time, Meryl Streep, and for reasons I don’t know why, Madonna’s W.E., which looks so much better than everyone claims it is!
Moving away from movies, the big news down here in Palm Beach is that our “beloved” Publix re-opened after seven months of being demolished in April so that it could be greatly enlarged. Although I will continue to frequent the Whole Foods in Palm Beach Gardens for weekly provisions because of their greater selection locally-grown food and use of independent suppliers, the new Publix is going to be great for things I need immediately. As for the store itself, it’s beautiful on the outside; so beautiful that I think it could be mistaken for the Neiman Marcus on Worth Avenue! However, on the inside, it’s without question just another grocery store with that awful florescent lighting and hideous white title flooring that makes everything look so sterile! Why can’t people learn from Whole Foods and create warm, inviting places as opposed to hell hole that is the modern grocery store we know today? Obviously, that would require money to be spent, but I feel it’s worth it so that we can all have a more pleasant shopping experience. Plus, the Whole Foods in PBG has a smoothie bar, which tops anything I’ve ever seen in a grocery store!
I know, my obsession with the design of grocery stores is beyond disturbing, but what can I say, I feel it matters! This past Wednesday, I also did something a bit interesting in Miami, which for some reason I can’t even begin to explain, I now associate with this:
I’m actually ashamed by this. Now, I did not go to Miami to see the Kardashians, who are ruining the world, but to instead visit immigration officials at Miami International Airport to complete the process to receive my Global Entry pass which will enable me to avoid this when I return from overseas trips for the next five years:
After being finger-printed and photographed, I left the airport and headed straight to my one true love in Miami, Shake Shack! Danny Meyer, I blame my future obesity on you, but it’s okay because that sauce you put on the Shake Burger is amazing! Also, that Shark Attack Concrete is out of this world! Of all the locations, that one concrete is my favorite! Next time I go there, I’m also buying that “Miami Has a New Vice” tee shirt because that is such a great line!
Well, that’s all for now as I’ve got to go celebrate Christmas the Jewish way by getting Chinese food and then going to the movies, but I wish y’all a Happy Christmas and an even happier Sixth Night of Hanukkah! Until next time when we discuss why I have only received only two presents, one of which was from me to me…
The Yapper 