Dorothy Clicked Her Heels to Get Home. I Called Amtrak and Took the Auto Train

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…

-JD

Next Year, I’m Either Picking Up the Turkey From Daniel Boulud or Following Everyone to Boca

Despite the fact that I might actually love Thanksgiving more than I love my own birthday (for which I devote an entire month to celebrating), this year’s Thanksgiving just killed me in a way that may have rivaled the death of Muammar Gaddafi (or whichever of the 112 different spellings of his name y’all prefer).   So my grandmother is on her 900th life and isn’t really able to leave her home anymore, but she insisted that she be apart of Thanksgiving  this year, which we do at my house.  Even though we didn’t really start cooking until after the 85th Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade ended, Mother and I managed to stay on schedule, despite one of our ovens deciding to suddenly act like the electronics system on a 1980s Jaguar, until about Four when it was decided that we would move the entire dinner to my grandparents’s house.  That is when uncontrolled chaos began to ensue.  We had to transport all of the food, plus their serving platters over to their house, where we would finish cooking the stuffing, sweet potato pies, corn muffins, and the two French Apple Tartes.

The traveling and packing/unpacking may have put us behind schedule, but my younger cousin, Kevin, who this year sported a “limited edition” Black Friday 2011 tee-shirt (not kidding), wasn’t thrilled that we were starting dinner so late because as y’all may have heard, Wal-Mart, a place I’ve proudly only been twice, started its sale Thursday night, and he wanted to be there to the point that he spent most of dinner away from the table and glued to his computer screen.  I’m sorry, but it’s a holiday designed to celebrate the family—many thanks, Norman Rockwell—and not about spraying people with pepper spray in a Wal-Mart over a $249 40″ LCD television that isn’t even that good of a brand!

That, combined with some other “interesting” (that’s the best way to describe it) events has made me realize that maybe Andrew, and about twenty other people I know, are on to something by going to Bubbieland USA Boca and letting someone else do the cooking for them.  We’ve only done the restaurant gig once and that was in 2001 because we were in New York for Thanksgiving.  My only issue with being in South Florida for Thanksgiving is that it just doesn’t seem right to be surrounded by people in short-sleeves and palm trees and other plants with leaves on them in late November.  Now oddly, I have absolutely no problem with this same scenario in December for Christmas.  I don’t know why, but the whole White Christmas thing doesn’t appeal to me at all.  This might have something to do with the fact that I’m Jewish, but I may be wrong.

The other alternative I’m thinking about for next year is Daniel Boulud’s $395 pre-made Thanksgiving Dinner for eight to ten people, sans desserts (my stomach is already getting excited).  Yes, that sounds like a lot to spend on a meal, but if you do the math, it’s kind of the same amount you’d spend if you made it all yourself.  Plus, the difference is that you can avoid hell grocery stores and the lovely human satans suburban housewives that can’t competently shop in them, not to mention the fact that you get your dinner prepared for you by a world class restaurant team!  And, you just get your guests, family included, to bring the wine and dessert so you don’t have to pay for them.  Who ever thought that I would be somehow saving people money?  I blame the sleep depravation.

The rest of my time home can be summed up very quickly: I was a vegetable.  In fact, the only time I actually left my house following Thanksgiving was on Saturday night when I went with Mother and Fozzie Bear to dinner at Todd Jurich’s Burger Bar in Virginia Beach.  Todd Jurich is a local chef whose hugely successful and award-winning Todd Jurich’s Bistro has given him a bit of an ego.  M. Jurich opened and then closed a French bistro-style restaurant before deciding to jump on the high-end burger joint train started by Danny Meyer with Shake Shack (an affordable version of heaven).  I hope this somewhat out-of-the-way restaurant is a success because it was delicious!  The All American Bison Burger with Sweet Potato Fries were excellent, although I did have to basically deconstruct the burger in order to eat it was it was rather large.

The reason to go to M. Jurich’s new restaurant, however, isn’t even the food, but rather the Nutella and Burnt Marshmellow milkshake.  I can’t say that I’ve ever had a Nutella milkshake before, and while I’m curious as to how they managed to turn a product that specifically says that you’re not allowed to freeze it into a milkshake, I’m also afraid to ask because what I don’t know, won’t hurt me!  I will say that I would have preferred a little more milkshake and a little less burnt marshmallows, but it was delectable nonetheless and I highly recommend that y’all go if in the Virginia Beach area.

Justin, whose ancestors attended the first Thanksgiving, briefly went back North to Cape Cod to freeze his little tuchus off for 48 hours before getting on the first flight back to Florida because he’s now afraid of the cold.  Each time I spoke to Justin while he was home, he did nothing but complain about how it was bitterly cold even though was born and raised in Massachusetts.  My how three years in Florida can change a man.  While on holiday, Justin did mention something to me that I’ve found to be both wonderful and depressing.  Apparently, the wonderful people behind Nutella, my well-documented addiction,  have created two Nutelleria cafés, one in Bologna, and the other in Frankfurt.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m over the moon excited that these two places exist, but I’m so mad that I didn’t see the one in Bologna when I visited the hidden Italian gem back in April, especially since I was only two blocks from it at one point!  I guess there has to be a reason to go back, right?

Finally tonight, there is something I’ve been meaning to share with y’all for way too long and my earlier mention of M. Bunga Bunga himself, Colonel Muammar Gaddafi.  Following the eccentric Libyan leader’s death, the folks at Time got creative and put together a slideshow documenting the many outrageous outfits that Muammar wore over the years.  Despite these lasting images, I feel my lasting image of M. Bunga Bunga will forever be this clip from SNL:

Vodpod videos no longer available.

Okay, well I’m off to go watch The Godfather for a class so until next time…

-JD

PS: There are only seventeen more days until I board the Auto Train to Florida!