Well, the feast has ceased. My wonderful inlaws have left... which means, tonight, I begin gathering berries and mushrooms and poaching wild squirrels in central park again. It's some tricky business firing a weapon in such a populated park. But I've found that singing Broadway songs and reenacting the battle of the bulge whilst I shoot gives me enough credibility to not get arrested. It is a little annoying when the homeless guys try to get in on the action. Some don't know when to stop. (Btw, why hasn't there ever been a Ballet written about the Battle of the Bulge? Get it? Buuuuulge? HA! I crack me-self right up. Somewhere in a house in Springfield Missouri my mother is rolling her eyes, shaking here head, and saying, "Son, was that joke necessary?") I gots to tell you though, that Broadway civil war reenacting really brings "singing for your dinner" to a whole different level. Ahhh how I miss the days of living in the Ozark Mountains when I would simply grab my musket, dress in suede leather and a raccoon cap and bring home the fatted buck, duck or occasional ferret to my hungry and thankful family. Those were the days, let me tell ya.
In other news... I've been pretty in to American Idol this year... I was really bummed to see Kady Alexis Mall...oy... get... oust...ed...
I'm sorry, I really wish I could leave the subject of food but I just can't. I've just never had food that incredible. I mean, Houston has its share of fine eateries. There is a real reason it is always duking-it-out with Phillie for the The Fattest City Award. And interestingly, in Houston, the food in the expensive places isn't much better than the food in the medium expensive places and after you finished your extra expensive meal you always find yourself saying "hey, that wasn't any better than Carabas."
Not so in NYC. Unfortunately, for the Troubawards, the price of the food up here is directly proportionally to the level of taste explosion. And God bless the brick oven. Why in the heck does anyone cook anything outside of a brick oven. I took one bite of the hummus and bread toasted in the brick oven and I almost started speaking in tongues. If I wasn't so worried about it burning my lips, I would have french kissed the brick oven goodbye on the way out.
Okay, let it go. Seth. Let it go. Squirrel isn't so bad. And some of those mushrooms... well, the trial and error there can get pretty AWESOME. And strange as it may seem, they really make that civil war reenactment seem more real. A little too real at times, honestly.
(To be sung at the end of your reading.)
"Lord who made the lion and the lamb,
You decreed I should be what I am.
Would it spoil some vast eternal plan?
If I were a wealthy maaaaaaaaaan."
3 comments:
A word of advice, my friend: Next time, wait until the effects of the mushrooms have worn off before attempting a blog post.
I think your observation about expensive food not tasting much better than cheap food is a valid one. Generally speaking, you're not paying for the food in those places -- you're paying for the ambiance, the service, the exclusivity, the feng shui, as it were.
It just so happens, when you're in a world-class place like NYC, part of that ambiance also includes the finest chefs on the planet. Mmmm.
Dude, I miss the gyro guys in NYC. I would probably gain as much weight from them as I did living in Texas.
Lol!! You crack me up Seth and I enjoyed reading choatic hammer's post on mushroom...
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