Category Archives: Food

Happy Meal II

Sometimes I kind of, somewhat, wonder what folks think of me when I take pics of seemingly random thing.  Not that I really care.

I snapped this at the cafeteria at the new workplace.

I did it for the obvious.

I didn’t eat it as I think it said 35g fat.  YIKES.  I don’t care that there is no trans fat.

Song by: the Cardigans

Thanks to You

Ugh.  Another T-giving post.  This makes what – five now?

I feel when I get to holidays like this, the posts are forced – as I’m supposed to have something insightful to say.  And I don’t.

….haven’t you people been paying attention???????

Sure, I’m grateful for having a great partner and two somewhat loving cats.  I have a decent family – and incredible friends.  And fuck – this year, I still have a job, so that’s saying something in these dark times.   I ain’t complaining.

I’m thankful that it is almost January 20th.  …and that I’ve only been to the ER once this year and that my permanent crown is going to be on in less than two weeks.

So this afternoon, I’ll have to endure two of my sisters – but that can be done….and even with no alcohol, if I chose.  IF.    And yes, I’ll have to eat the blandest, monochromatic meal that was ever devised.

I’m making salad.

What?  Not a big deal to you?   It is to me.  We don’t have salad traditionally on T-giving.  So fuck if I’m not bringing something I’ll eat…..or that I’ll want to eat.    But there will be pie also.  No pumpkin for me though.  I can spackle the walls with that stuff, but I ain’t ingesting it.

But whatever your traditions are, and whatever you’re thankful for – enjoy the day.

Song by: Emmylou Harris

Dinner at Eight

…that’s what we had yesterday at Cafe Tandoor.

It wasn’t just the two of us either, but with 16 other gay men. It is all part of our quest to be more social. I’d say this qualified.

The Cain Park Arts Festival started yesterday evening. We usually end up attending and always go home empty-handed. Yesterday was no different, though we did see some pieces we liked. The two artists were pretty local and we got their info to see their studio stuff as opposed to whatever they could or decided to haul to display. Our house is woefully in need of real art and not just prints of other stuff.

We did run into our first Cleveland landlord, Howard (I’ll forgo his last name, so you don’t all Gooooogle him). Honest to g-d, if Denton didn’t say his name, I’m not sure I would have recognized him at all. He still has a wickedly handsome face, but now has a mane of hair that is greying and not in a handsome way. His new girlfriend, Andrea, (I’m sorry – anDRAY-ah) was with him. Remind me to post stories later about Howard as a neighbor and a landlord.

Anyway, the plan was for all the gays to meet at the festival at 6p and have dinner at 8p. We could only find some of the men, since we didn’t know about one-third of them. So yes, we expanded our gay circle by another ring.

Dinner proved to be a bit difficult, as it was a long table – so conversations could not flow easily and some people didn’t get a chance to interact at all. I would say only about half the guys knew everyone, and the other half knew almost no one – so we weren’t alone in the same proverbial boat.  But a good time seemingly was had by all.

We’d like to try that again sometime, but we don’t most of the guys to arrange it ourselves.  We’ll see how it goes.

Song by: Rufus Wainwright (btw…the image at top is from the movie of the same name as the song and title post)

Bread & Circuses

On Saturday we went back out for some tile, fixture and other stuff to get our quote for the master bath to be a bit more accurate or to see where we needed to do some cost savings.

But as always, I got shopping fatigue (it doesn’t take much) and got hungry (it doesn’t take much), so we had to stop for lunch. There was a Panera near by and it is really hard to fuck that food up, so we went.

Before we left, Denton wanted a scone so he could have it for breakfast the next day. But since we were going to my parents on Sunday for dinner, we also picked up two loaves of bread (for my mother) and two cinnamon rolls (for my father). Then I overhear the person ringing him up say, “will this be for here or to go?” – which I just found amusing as hell and broke out into a grin.

Denton did too – not only for this instance, but for one Tom Green told us about eons ago, which I’m beginning to think is just urban legend, but is still funny:

A woman goes into KFC by herself and orders two full buckets of chicken with all the fixins (is that spelled correctly?). The cashier rings her up and asks, “will this be for here or to go?“, to which the customer barks “does it look I can eat all this by myself????”

But it was the cashier’s response that was priceless: “girl, I do not know your life”.

Song by: Billy Bragg & Natalie Merchant

Torture Me

Yesterday, as I exited the elevators at work I could smell someone cooking in our office kitchen.

If you remember (and why would you?), we have a pretty nice gourmet set-up in the office. Viking everything. And we all have one week of kitchen duty per year or so.

But what this guy was cooking was pungent. It made it’s way out to the lobby through glass doors. It didn’t smell bad – just strong.   About a half hour after being at my desk, I started coughing.   ….and coughing.   ….and coughing.

I don’t have a cold…or an infection (at least I think I don’t),  I can only assume the chili oils wafting through the air, from the hot hot peppers he was cooking that set something off – or that I’m allergic to.  One of the two.    ….or I have a cold or infection.   I’m still betting on the allergy or irritant.

So here I am almost 30 hours afterwards still clearing my lungs here and there.  It’s not as bad as yesterday, but not nearly where I thought I would be today.

Song by: the Red Hot Chili Peppers

I’m Hungry

Still not a lot to say for me. Sorry about that. Work and not much else going on.

Travel troubles in the skies, with all of those gosh darn planes being grounded for mechanical failure…or potential failure. It left many of us with canceled flights and scrambling for alternative travels and carriers.

I’m was not a fan of American Airlines before and even less so now. I do still like Continental though.

But my boss and I were in Kansas City (KS, not MO). We dined on very very regional fare: KC Masterpiece (the surname, as Morty pointed out, would be a good porn name). Apparently it is not just barbecue sauce you buy in the grocery store.

The food? HORRID. Ok, maybe that’s a tad bit harsh, but it weren’t good. And the service was a joke. Almost literally. If I may………

Blobby: What kind of beer is Fat Tire?
Waitress: Local. I think. (it’s not)
Blobby: Yes, but what kind is it
Waitress: LOCAL!


But then there was my boss’ interaction:

Waitress: the special is Texas sausage
Boss: what is Texas sausage
Waitress: it’s good

I think we should have just gone to Panera.

Song by: the Sugarcubes

I’m Fucking Matt Damon

For the life of me, I cannot get I’m Fucking Matt Damon out of my head.  I blame David G for this one.  Entirely.

About a year ago I had the same problem with Alanis Morissettes’s cover of My Humps.  Though that one was not David’s fault.

Everytime I think Sarah Silverman is really not as funny as people think she is (or funny – at all), she does something clever like this.  Though to be honest, I think it is Matt Damon who is actually funnier – and not just because he agreed to participate.  He seems to be enjoying it more than she does.

The response is not as funny – though it has a moment or two.  As always, Affleck is banal.

I’m not even a Kimmel watcher.  Everytime I hear his name, I flash back to an episode of Arrested Development where someone says something about Jimmy Kimmel and the matriarch (Jessica Walters) says:  “I don’t know who that is – and I don’t care to find out!”

Last night we went out to dinner with the couple who could not make it to our holiday party. We haven’t had a chance to see them for a few months before that party, or obviously since.  The plan was for them to come over with their three boys, but got a sitter, so we all went out.   I cannot believe how much I ate too – and while I was full, I wasn’t FULL.  So I think that qualifies the meal as a success.

Song by:  Sarah Silverman & Matt Damon

Cook of the House

I hate when good recipes go bad.

Ok – maybe it wasn’t a good recipe, but it sounded good. Unfortunately Ina Garten can make anything sound good…..and doable.

I shouldn’t blame the Contessa – I’m sure it is something I did. Or didn’t do.

For gosh’s sakes it was only macaroni and cheese. Sure it had like 4lbs of cheese (three different kinds!)…..and bacon and I followed the directions to a T.  What could possibly go wrong?

Don’t get me wrong – it wasn’t horrible or inedible. Maybe my expectations were too high.  Maybe my skills weren’t high enough.  Normally they aren’t when I cook and things still work out.  At least I enjoy the process, if not the final product.

….and it’s still harder than I thought to be a food photographer.  I don’t know how those guys who do the Ponderosa menu do it!

Song by: Linda McCartney and Wings
(seriously – one of the worst songs ever put to tape!)

Is (s)He Really Going Out with Him?

I was telling my email group about the ‘first date’ I had two nights ago.

No – I’m not dating behind my bf’s back, but the dinner and drinks I had with a co-worker felt more like a first date than it did of catching a meal and tossing back a few.

Come Monday I’ll be at my job for a year. It seems like a week. It seems like a decade.

Anyway, Scott has been there for less time than I have and though we had bonded, we never really did anything outside of work.  But I really haven’t with anyone from there.   …..did I mention he was straight?

So we went on a man date.

Chow and booze.  Albeit good chow and booze.  I’m happy to settle for bar food…or just a bar.  But I ended up with a spinach salad (great!) and ravioli stuffed with dungeness crab (it sounded better than it was).

Naturally, I tried to annoy the waiter when he asked if we wanted to start with a drink.  Scott, being a gentleman, motions for me to go first:  “I’ll have a Squash Strawberry Alleycat“, I replied.  Neither of them knew what to do with that!

I pretty much stuck with beer and wine, but Scott likes his bourbon.

We tried not to talk about work, but you know how well that usually goes – though it was kept to a minimum.  But that Makers Mark just let Scott babble on and on and on.  …but in a good way.  Some stuff I wouldn’t reveal here, some I could.

One of the more interesting is his telling me of his 18 year old son, who is gay, and came out to him about three years ago.   At 15!  …can you imagine?  Not to sound too much like my parents, but it really is a different world.  I mean – I knew at 15, but I wasn’t telling my father!  Or even contemplating it.  No, I was figuring how the hell to get out of Dodge and live my life.

And here I am umpteen decades later………back in Dodge.

I can see Denton and I doing stuff with Scott and his wife.  He has got a great sense of humor and I’m assuming she must at least tolerate him asDenton does me.  We’ll see.

….and for the record…..I don’t need a flashy red convertible…….if you know what I mean!!!

Song by: Joe Jackson

We Both Go Down Together

I missed a day of posting……that’s odd.

I guess I do every once in awhile. Sometimes due to lack of anything to say. Sometimes due to work and travel. This time I think it is a combination of both.

But I am in DC and have been all week. GREAT weather. Yeah – I saw an Inconvenient Truth, but it’s hard to get mad about all that shit when it is January and in the 70s. They say it is our children who will have to pay for global warming – but hell, I don’t have any kids.

Last night I was looking for a place to have dinner and stumbled upon this place on 14th NW, just a few blocks from my hotel.

How could I not eat here?

The service was faster than fast and the food was great. It’s in a borderline gay ‘hood so the TV was playing Madonna’s Confessions Tour concert footage. It doesn’t get more gay than that – except for the gay and his hag sitting next to me. Jon would have loved to been with me where we would not say a word and just eavesdrop on their conversation.

song by: the Decemberists