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- I hella like this basic Italian dude.December 12 2008
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There's a new basic Italian dude in town! I hella love the guy. His name's Vito, he runs this kitchen at this place Tre Otto, and he rocks some nacky gold nugs -- maybe three chains and a piece on each pinkie. Hilarious, but way committed to quality. He does me up some real light-quality lasagna at lunch, you know, not that white sauce freezer crap that gets broiled under a jet engine in the servin' dish, but some real family tomato -- the sauce almost so light you want to put it in a champagne glass with some voddy D and a horseradish kiss and a staff-o-celery. You know what I mean. Dude has a touch. Dude has gentle fingers, if I can say that about a man.
I ain't know the guy too close yet, but I bet I get in on tight with him. I ain't like me nothin' more than an Italian who knows you're in for the game. That's when you really eat right, when they invite you back into the kitchen, when they always doin' this and that and gettin' you a Negroni and the chef fries you up some calamari and it ain't on your tab. Next thing you know you're chillin' while they close, havin' a cig in the back door and helpin' them lose some wine that's gonna go bad before they open again.
You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna go there for dinner tonight, even though I been there the last four days in a row. There's a point where you're a groupie, but there's also a point where you're a made regular, and I got to bring hard game so I don't just come off like some half-cocked h - Thanksgiving 2008. Sorry if this goes on.November 29 2008
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Man, I had it large on Thanksgiving. The actual deal itself was small, just me and T and Beef and Molly and Lyle and lil' old Philippe. Connie was off with his dang old new somethin', and when I saw Pat and Rod at Andronico's and invited them, Pat turned to me and started explainin' their own plans while behind him Rod pretended to hang himself with a baguette. He didn't need to use the baguette, because usually the hand motion of hangin' one's self is enough. It seemed pretty amateur for a dude who is pretty much an actor.
Anyhow, this is what I am thankful for this year:
1. My own awareness that most taco places ain't "green," and use tons of styrofoam, plastic cups, foil, and plastic bags for every takeout order. It helps me not go to taco places, which in turn keeps me from rockin' a sick bubble-chub at the waistline.
2. I am thankful that I have an appreciation of good, simmered-up black-eyed peas with nothing more than salt and butter.
3. I am thankful that my mom ain't been callin' too much lately. I love the old gal, but try havin' somethin' new to say every day when the only thing you been doin' is chuckin' empties into the pool and hittin' golf balls into a lawn shed ("Raymond! Do not DO that!").
4. I am thankful that stereos have gotten smaller. Mine hasn't, but I know this helps a lot of people in apartments.
5. I am thankful that I seem to care about Prime Time again. For a while I was just lost in - The Beef is back in town!July 30 2008
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Man, it was good to see Beef and Molly kickin' around the pool again today after that long-ass honeymoon. Looks like they got a thirst on for piña coladas! They are out sittin' in my trick teak chaise lounges, still in relax mode and gettin' some rays. Maybe I'll whip up a little crostini platter lunch for all of us...I been watchin' this bald guy Mark Bittman on TV, he flies to Spain and eats really small pieces of food, and it looks damn good. I'ma do a...I'ma do...garlic shrimp on toasted rounds with olive purée and feta. They say no cheese with seafood, but they do a lotta talkin', so it's bust-out time. I will also do a thing with some three-ballin' white anchovies, hearts of romaine, and GROSS caesar dressing. "Gross" means the illest new form of kindness, all.
[an hour passes]
Damn, I just got back from havin' crostinis with the new couple, and Beef is hella in place! Witness:
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RAY: Check out these GROSS crostini I whipped up for us! Even did some little prosciutto roses, can you dig it?
MOLLY: Wow! Thanks, Ray! This is totally nice! I love the little cocktail swords!
BEEF: [has Yankees baseball cap and sunglasses on, plus no shirt] Man that is a fine plate. You are a good dogg, Mr. Smuckles.
RAY: [notices that Beef is in a calm, confident place] Eat up, didgeridoo! Nice hat, by the way.
BEEF: I been wearin' hats. It suits a man.
MOLLY: I co - I'm Sorry.May 11 2008
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I'm sorry, but I just been havin' the greatest time lately. I been goin' to what they call Super School, you heard of it? It's like a school, you know, like we all had to go to, but it's for adults. Instead of teachers sayin' what's important, you decide what you want to study, and the teacher has to make it fun. The teacher also has to be flexible, though, 'cause you're essentially a customer. (Yeah, it costs some pretty serious scratch, and materials can be expensive, but keep reading.)
I was like, "I know basically nothin' about France, except that Napoleon got shot at Waterloo (not true), and then things started to go downhill for him, since in those days doctors were like, 'Bullets? What are those? Is that kind of a new thing?'" That made me decide to learn French history, but regular school never floated my boat too hard, so I remembered that some of the guys at the club do Super School once in a while, like to learn machine gun theory or how planes work and stuff. I made some calls and pretty soon I was enrolled.
French history really ain't nothin' to get too worked up about. Basically they're like everybody else, but their homeless people wear fingerless gloves. Anyhow. After a few lessons the teacher, Mr. Fluét, was like,
MR FLUÉT: Ray, I can tell that you are not really into this.
ME: What?
MR FLUÉT: Can you turn down your iPod for a minute?
ME: Oh! Uh...Louie the Sun King. Lewey?
MR FL - The Story of My Hair.April 27 2008
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Man, what a log ride it's been with this bald spot of mine. Last time I wrote I had just started with Silas Dong, that random hair and skin doctor I found in Chinatown, and I was all jazzed about his acupuncture-type therapy and immense personal calmness. Remember that sign I told you about in his window, the one with the three pictures of the top of a dude's head, goin' from totally empty of hair to totally covered again? I read it wrong.
See, I figured that Chinese stuff got read right-to-left, you know, the opposite from our way. Turns out I basically read the sign backwards, because it was written left-to-right, with the full-head-of-hair guy gradually gettin' balder in each panel. Silas Dong was a hair loss specialist, alright. A SPECIALIST IN MAKING YOU LOSE YOUR HAIR.
I almost had a heart attack when I went in for my second session and he proudly showed me a clear template with rings on it. On a small center ring was the date of my first visit, and he beamed when he showed me I had "grown" two full rings since then. He got really confused when I started yellin', "No, I...naw, man! What did you DO?! What have I DONE?!" I even knelt on the floor for a second, covering my dime with my hands and wonderin' if I was gonna cry.
He sized up the situation pretty quick. In about six seconds he had handed me his sister's card, Phyllis Dong. (I guess a lot of honkeys mess up when choosin' Chinese therapies, so they have these things at