Savory

Upon return from Hawaii it was back to reality, but the disco ball never ceased to turn. See there were too many Virgos in the circle of friends, including yours truly. Of course, we have to celebrate the birth of our doom of happiness. Therefore, I luv, love, luv dinner! It doesn’t matter if it’s eating “in” or “dining out,” well…ahem…next to brunch and shopping of course! It all starts with an aperitif of a glass of champagne. It is a sheer must!

Since we’re stuck to purgatory in this one bedroom cozy apartment, my dinner parties has ceased to desist. I didn’t realize it till now, but our friends do not host dinner parties. But, whatever it doesn't matter. We’ve succumbed to eating out, which is fine with me, if only nine tenths of the restaurants in San Francisco were decent. I mean just 'cause it's some sort of fusion and served as a small plate theme where the plates are swirled with some typical reduction squirted from some squeeze bottle, does not make it bling bling yum?

Sure, I try not to be a food snob, but I can’t help it. I’ve been mind f@cked by my last chef (aka Chef Q) to notice many things in a dish down to a bite full. From thereonin, I was doomed a snob, if you will. Indeed, my friends are happy at a plateful of some braised meat plopped on a pile of slobbering starchy buttered whipped mashed potatoes. For instance, they have no concept of the art of perfect mashed potatoes. They didn’t have to make fifteen pounds of it everyday, five days a week, for months on end. It takes a certain type of potato, to a certain density, to incorporating fluff and air, to the mounds of salt included and other gunk. I, too, wish I was a simpleton of sorts and in that way I would be easily content with food.

With all that, I’ve learned to swallow my art, but not forget it. In addition, I have learned that with the perfect company and with the ideal amount of alcohol, who cares what the food taste like? The most important thing is to step off the soap box and savor the good times with friends.