Food Glorious Food
First of all, let me give a shout out to my "legion"....Hey Margie Blackwood, smooch smooch, kiss kiss....thank you for being my number one fan!! Are you going to tie me down and cut my feet off now, Kathy Bates???
Ok, got that off my chest!! We went to a wake this evening, which naturally leads into tonight's topic: food.
I hate going to funeral homes. All those flowers and tissue boxes and the bad classical music playing just softly enough that you can't quite determine if they're playing Bach or the Beatles. The median age in the room was about 75, so we sort of stood out as paragons of youth and beauty, or something like that.
We had to stand in a line to view the deceased, whom I did not know. It was a long line and then the people in front of us stopped and blocked the line to have a conversation with some old friends.
Well hey, I know funerals are for meeting and greeting, but I had a dead guy to look at and dinner was calling me! After five minutes, I went around them. I guess it was yesterday's suppressed road rage spilling out!
We got through the line, hugged our friend Kris, met her family members (who we will probably never lay eyes on again!) and moved on to let the rude line blocking people (who were now behind us...heh heh!) have their turn.
So with the viewing done, I was hungry! Something about viewing death reminds one forcibly of life and that it must go on no matter what. So it was off to dinner with some folks from the wake. You know Tim and I are always trying to get up a party!
We went across the street to a restaurant called John's City Diner. The interior was all silver and black, very retro new age sort of decor. All the wait staff were dressed in black and I was sure a karate exhibition would happen later in the evening or perhaps a ninja would bring our salads, wielding his pepper grinder like numchuks (is that how you spell that damn word???)
So we sat down, ordered a bottle of wine and perused the menu. Here in my blog, I will reveal one of my deepest fantasies. No Chuck, it's not seeing you dressed in a thong with a red rose clenched in your teeth while salsa music plays in the background (altho now that you mention it....) But I digress....I have always wanted to be a snooty food critic.
I love to read the food columns in the paper and I really enjoy the descriptions that make even the most unappetizing food sound like a gourmet feast. "The cake of lard was presented on a bed of shaved fennel with blood oranges and rutabagas, topped with a reduction of bacon grease and cumin." Yum, I'll take the family size portion please!
So I play food critic when I am in a restaurant and mentally write my column while I sit at the table. The menu at the "Diner" was nouveau retro. Meatloaf with a mushroom demi glace served on a bed of smashed potatoes. "Not Your Mama's Macaroni and Cheese" served with your choice of two side items. It's kind of like June Cleaver's kitchen, pumped up on Vault and diesel fuel!
I ordered the mac and cheese and Tim got the meatloaf. Here is my snooty food critic description: The macaroni and cheese consisted of penne pasta, cooked al dente, and dressed in a cheese sauce consisting of smoked gouda, aged cheddar and parmesan. Bits of prosciutto contrasted nicely with the cheeses and gave the dish a pleasing complexity. The pasta was dusted with a coating of Japanese bread crumbs and topped with chopped tomato and finely minced spring onions for a colorful presentation. For my sides, I chose the fried green tomatoes, which were lightly breaded in cornmeal and fried and the stone ground grits. The tomatoes were perfectly prepared, crispy on the outside and tart and juicy on the inside. A sauce or remoulade would have been welcomed to enhance the taste, but they were quite good. The grits were thick and creamy, with pieces of corn and bits of garlic. Warm corn sticks were served with the meal, but were a bit chewy, leading one to believe they had been prepared much earlier in the day and left in the warmer.
What do you think....could I make it as a snooty food critic? I am going to apply to the Shelby County Reporter and start by reviewing all the gas station cafes. I will work my way up to Mountain Brook eventually!
