Tuesday, January 31, 2006
My Linking Policy


My linking policy is centered around two eternal verities. How much have I been drinking, and do I or do I not think at the moment that you are a jackass...

There are corollaries to this policy. One is how long I have known you (though this blog is just starting its fourth month I have been blogging for a few years now). If you are one of a handful of people I have taken with me from blog to blog I have already determined that you either need all the help you can get or I need all the help you can give me. If we have made it this far without pissing each other off - you're cool.

If when building this blog I scoured the lists for others with similar content in order to network with you, and I put your link in my blogroll and informed you about it only to have you never answer me or never return the link I gave you before I found out you were a jerk - you're outta here. In the first place I singled out your blog because of content and walked by others I didn't like. I spent time doing this. And you returned the compliment by being a jerk. So up yours. Don't come begging here for a link when you're #14000 again on the Truth Laid Bear because everybody you thought was your friend left you to the dogs where you belong you lousy scumbag. You've made a major miscalculation.

On the other hand I may put your link back up if I've been drinking and you say you're sorry. Well okay, you're too much of a prick to say you're sorry so - if I've been drinking I'll put your link back on. If you ask me nice. Or I change my mind.

Then again if you are someone who contacts me to exchange a link and stroke my ego I will add you to the blogroll even if your blog sucks. This is how much I am willing to prostitute myself for a damn link. But the general rule is this - people who don't link back = boil in their own swill. People who link back = angels from heaven with manna in their hands. Or cheeseburgers.

(Sending food will also persuade me).

Another thing to remember is if you receive my email saying I've linked you and you respond and tell me my blog looks nice and - three months later - I still don't see my link on your page (I check these daily, btw) that's ok. Your link will stay up because you took the time to communicate. Unless I am drinking and feeling mean in which case I will erase all trace of your shadow you mean, selfish bastard.

By the way, if you DO get an email from me asking for money respond quickly in the affirmative. This is one way to assure your link will stay on my roll.

But if you don't send it - gone.

As you can see by the graph above that I stole (live) from Blogshares the world is, slowly, coming around. In three months Truth Laid Bear says I am a Flippery Fish and you people who dissed me just better watch out. Because if I ever figure out how Blogshares works or drink enough to actually care to be known as a Flippery Fish (are you people crappin' me??) I'm going to rule the world - and then you'll be sorry.

I suddenly have this picture of a hundred thousand otherwise normal people lurching forward and saying "He's already a Flippery Fish! No WAY!"

Yes... I know... makes you jealous doesn't it? Meh-heh-heh.

I'm a Flippery Fish.








Better watch it...
posted by RW @ 9:46 PM 5 ...at the table links to this post






Monday, January 30, 2006
You're Lucky Just To Know Me
I can get you $25 off a dinner at Monte's Chophouse on East Peoria St in Tulsa or the same at Bob's Bar-B-Que in Ada, Oklahoma. Aren't you glad you met me?

Do you think bloggers make a lot of money from ads? Not bloody likely. I think last year I made $80 from cigars and maybe $20 from Amazon. There have been maybe six bloggers in the history of the world who "made it" financially from their blogs. The rest of the hype is just that - ideas you will be "sold" if you're dumb enough to believe them. If you think you are going to get rich doing this - send me $1000 for my instruction book on how to do it.

Pleh.

The overwhelming majority of bloggers don't even make a few bucks and the fact of the matter is they don't really care if they do. But there's something on this website that is meant to save you some money and I can't really tell you how much of a cut I get because I never did read the fine print. I added the links to restaurant.com because you can get coupons to restaurants all over the country and eat cheaper. Now what the hell is wrong with that...?



Here's the deal - you go over to the restaurant.com website by clicking one of these ads and when you get there you put in your city or state and conduct a search from these drop-down boxes for restaurants near you. You find one you want to go to and see if they are offering "online coupons." In most cases for $10 you get a coupon for $25 - sometimes even more.



I review a restaurant maybe once a week. Most of the tabs close-in on $100 after you add the drinks and the desserts. Yes I have a good job in the real world but I'm also not an idiot. And I have no qualms about presenting a coupon (plus my 20% tip) to the server... who doesn't think less of you for a coupon especially when they eye the gratuity.



So you can jump over to restaurant.com from here and if you buy something I get a piece of it or - tell you what, I don't even care - go type the URL in the browser when you're six sites down the line from me. Like I said - if you think bloggers make a ton of money on this stuff you're dreaming - or just a future sucker.

Think of it as a lead from an old salesman. Man... you're lucky just to know me!


$25 Dining Certificates for $10

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posted by RW @ 6:21 PM 2 ...at the table links to this post






Sunday, January 29, 2006
Italia Cafe / Geneva
No.

This place was once known as "Chianti's" and was brought to you by the same people who brought you Foxfire. I had never been to either but people I respect gave me good reviews on both.

Our first surprise was that it was no longer "Chianti's" but was now named "Italia Cafe." And this was just the first of many wtf's...

I had no intention of reviewing this place. I wasn't even intending to chase Vincenzo down here; we had a friend in from California and wanted to treat her to a nice lunch close to where she lived and this seemed like a natural. It was a rainy day in mid-winter and the crowd was light and so it looked to be a cozy, cut-and-dried lunch for three.

I don't know if the Foxfire people still run this place or if it changed ownership. I want to believe it has changed hands, otherwise the reputation of Foxfire would deserve to be questioned after this.

I didn't mind the spot-light lighting above the booth that hit the table like a laserbeam until the wine arrived and I could count every last piece of dust on the glass because of the light. A Chilean red from Saint Ema. The server (who eventually became an intimate part of our group) went out of her way to tell me I couldn't order a second glass because this was the last. This became apparent quickly, as I think it had been opened for a few months as well.

The tomatoes on my Caprese Salad were pink and tasteless. Cold. Like they just came from the supermarket up the road. And the server said this salad was about to be discontinued because they wanted to have only fresh and seasonal produce on the menu.

Yes. Well. Thanks a lot.

We were trying to catch up with a friend we hadn't seen since before the holidays but our server seemed to be doing a "check back" and an excuse for things no one even said anything about every two minutes. It is OK to do a checkback if you at least try to judge a pause in the conversation. But this one - admittedly young and probably brand-spanking new - virtually barged in at mid-gesture. Repeatedly. By the fifth checkback we saw her coming out the corner of our eye and hunkered down, waiting for her, so we could dismiss her quickly and continue on with our conversation.

Get a hint.

My wife had to send out a search party to find the 1000-Island on her "classic" Rueben, and was a bit perturbed at the overwhelming amount of grease that the marbled rye panini sat in. My Italian beef sandwich was literally half the size of one you could get at Sir Nicks's and half as good. Sir Nick's is a no-nonsense, deliver-on-Friday-night pizza joint with some of the best Italian beef sandwiches in the 'burbs. It is honest. The French Bread is packed with beef. It isn't delicate but it is what a beef sandwich is meant to be.

The beef sandwich at Italia Cafe is so politically correct it had practically no taste at all- the three kinds of colored peppers notwithstanding.

If Italia Cafe is under new ownership - and no longer in the Foxfire family - we can assume there are some growing pains. Fine. Take this as constructive criticism. Otherwise a few notes; it is ok for the server to say "you know, that doesn't look very fresh today, why not try..." - instead of waiting until it is in front of me and then react to the way I'm looking at the washed-out color of the tomatoes in the salad.

The Italia Cafe is at 207 South Third Street in Geneva, IL. Where "Chianti's" used to be. No reservations are needed for lunch, and if they carry on this way none will be needed for dinner either.

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posted by RW @ 6:42 PM 4 ...at the table links to this post






Saturday, January 28, 2006
My 100 Things

At the birth of blogging - sometime in the 90s - someone started the ball rolling on a meme based around "100 Things About Me". Personally I think this game is probably the dumbest of them all, but the blogosphere knows best and it has lived on. Well who am I to doubt the collective wisdom of several million faceless people?

You can find examples of "100 Things..." all over the place. Here and here and here and even here. Of course it didn't start to get good until Sadie did hers, and as usual she cut to the chase, abridged the total, figured we'd had enough and moved on. Thus Sadie.

But it started to bug me that these lists are all done by women. And they're usually about kids and hair and nails and feet and how stupid they felt once when somebody said blah blah blah about their something something and blah.

So to heck with that noise. The time has come for the Manly Art of 100 Things. Step aside...

100 Things I Couldn't Care Less If You Knew About Me.
1. I have almost $120 in my wallet right now. Humph.
2. I own tools. Lotsa tools.
3. My daughter is better with tools then I am.
4. Number 3 was a joke. Just kidding. Actually I don't have many tools.
5. Well I have some tools, and I take care of them.
6. That is they're in a chest.
7. Somewhere.
8. I take fish oil.
9. I eat garlic.
10. I cut down trees.
11. I skip and jump.
12. I go to the lavatr'y
13. This is the city. I carry a badge.
14. I actually know what "antidisestablishmentarianism" means and its Elizabethan context.
15. I used to think knowing stuff like that would get me chicks.
16. I was a very lonely young man.
17. My wife married me out of pity.
18. I hit my head and don't know who I am.
19. I'm the only person I know of who has actually read "The American Language: An Inquiry into the Development of English in the United States" by H.L. Mencken.
20. Reading that book got me absolutely nowhere.
21. I am a stamp collector - which always seemed kind of geeky until I realized I could sell my collection and live off the proceeds without having to work for several months. So all those guys who pushed me into the mud when they found out I could figure out what year a stamp was made in just by its Scott Number can as of right now just kiss my original gum, never-hinged, mint, very fine centered ass.
22. I have a safe full of gold, silver, bonds, stock certificates, foreign currency and three alternate plans for the takeover of Slovenia.
23. I do not know where the original plan is.
24. I often lie.
25. I actually do know where the original plan is.
26. I do not know where Slovenia is.
27. Yes I actually do.
28. But this was not a chick magnet either.
29. I once shook the hand of a man who was the youngest son of a man who as a baby was held in the arms of Napoleon Bonaparte just before he marched into Russia, which gives me four degrees of separation from Josephine.
30. I also once shook the hand of a man who said he was Cleopatra.
31. I am two degrees separated from Richard Burton, who made out with Cleopatra.
32. This is all actually a dream I had once.
33. I've been here before.
34. See #24.
35. I can't believe I've worked this hard and am only at freakin' 35!
36. I suddenly have a new respect for people who have done these lists.
37. I also see why Sadie cut it short. This pretty much sucks right about here dude.
38. In my high school year book I look like a dork.
39. Luckily I was too stoned to care.
40. And so was everybody else.
41. Stoned that is.
42. If you need an easy 10 bucks bet people that the lyrics to the theme from the "Beverly Hillbillies" goes "Well the first thing you know..." It is NOT the "next" thing you know. You can sucker anyone in the world into this bet.
43. I provided for my family for seven years just using the Beverly Hillbillies Theme bet.
44. It is an eternal verity - Always bet class-dropping speed on the rail coming into a sprint today from a mile or more last time out.
45. I do not bet on the horses. I invest in the results.
46. I like jelly on rye bread.
47. You mean to tell me I'm not even half way done with this yet??
48. I start reading 100 books a year.
49. I finish maybe three.
50. Listening to music of the Baroque makes me horny.
51. I drive a MINI.
52. People who know me are surprised I didn't mention that, like, third - ahead of my kids and job.
53. I have had it to 100.
54. I once cut off a semi in return for cutting me off and made his brakes smoke.
55. I have been accused of having a death wish but that's a lie. Phleh... who has just one death wish? Cheee... stupid.
56. I often forget my name.
57. I have one blue eye, one brown eye, and one gray eye.
58. I wish more people remembered Ernie Kovacs.
59. No lie - one of the proudest moments of my life was when this guy sat me down at Murphy's and bought me a beer.
60. I don't need your stinking charity.
61. I don't need no thought control.
62. Keep your dark sarcasm to yourself.
63. I wish I was a girlie just like my dear Mama.
64. I keep my hands to myself.
65. I keep my eyes off my neighbor's paper.
66. I
67. often
68. cheat
69. while
70. doing
71. stupid
72. memes.
73. I am getting really sick and tired of this list.
74. I have hazel eyes.
75. I know what evil lurks in the hearts of men.
76. I can see through everything but lead.
77. I think there should be a rule that says women with tattoos must have all their teeth.
78. I like going to WalMart because they have better Trailer Trash there than at KMart.
79. I believe the only difference between a Democrat and a Republican is the color tie they wear.
80. I believe the only difference between a Catholic and a Baptist is that if you catch a Catholic coming out of a liquor store - he'll wave at you.
81. I think this stopped being funny eighteen numbers ago.
82. I notice, though, that you're still reading it.
83. Did I mention I drive a MINI?
84. I drive a MINI - what are you compensating for??
85. Do you sense that, now that I am running out of ideas I'm starting to turn on you?
86. I think people who get down to 86 need to get a life for Christ's sake.
87. I love my readers.
88. I can't figure out why, no matter what blog I am doing, I get more readers who stay and read multiple posts than people who leave comments.
89. I often use the "...dazzle them with bullshit" part of that particular bromide.
90. I have forgotten my name more than once.
91. I have forgotten your name completely.
92. I have dark brown eyes.
93. I have a safe full of old crossword puzzles.
94. I take one bath a year.
95. I don't trust anyone who uses the word "I" more than 127 times in a blog post.
96. I can't believe you're actually counting that now.
97. I already did that.
98. I actually am a jerk.
99. I gave up politics.
100. This really is my entire life.

There. Now maybe people will stop passing this thing around. Kill it already, willya?
posted by RW @ 7:14 PM 4 ...at the table links to this post






Friday, January 27, 2006
How To Get A Woman

Every once in a while I feel the need to add a little intrigue and spice to my married life. After 28 years of marriage you can easily start to get a little stale. So I've been scouring the web for ways to improve myself in the relationship category. When I begin to suspect that my wife may be getting bored with me - I mean that should act as a pretty good motivator. No?

The web is chock full of lists for single guys to use to help them take stock in themselves and improve themselves - and their "chances" - by following a few simple step-by-steps. I think it follows that if single guys who use these lists have women hanging all over them all the time, if I do these things and focus them all toward my wife... heh heh...

I found this list at AskMen.com called "Top 10 Ways To Boost Your Confidence With Women" - and though the title didn't seem to be exactly what I was looking for, as I read a whole new world opened up to me!

They listed 10 things - from least important to most important. And this is the list I have been working on for several days now...

10. Remind yourself that you're a catch
The article wants you to write down the things that women would like about you. Based on the premise that women go for a man more for "how he communicates than how he looks," you are to make a list of your good points. Since I can forget about "looks" I've got it made... my list consists of A. Can talk B. Can read aloud C. Knows how to use spell-checker. And I'm on my way!

9. Look beyond her looks
What this means is you have to get over the fact that, in men's eyes, even average-looking women can do unintentional sensuous things and turn you into a drooling snit. Shake out those cobwebs and pay no attention to her curves, her ankles, the way her head tilts when she laughs, the musical tone of her voice, the aroma of flowers.... her hair............ the way she looks away when talking about herself..... her breasts pushing against the fabric of.....

HEY - 8. Focus on having fun
Start a water balloon fight. Take her to a Three Stooges Marathon. Get drunk in the parking lot before the big game. You know - quit worrying about the impression your making and be yourself! Fart proudly! Do that gushing noise with your hand and armpit. She'll love it.

(Yes, I think I can do this!)

7. Date multiple women
This one talks about how nervous you are before a date after a drought and says... "if you had dated three different women that same week, the confidence would literally be oozing from your pores." This is one I'm sure my wife will appreciate the most because I know for a fact that she'll take a confident lounge lizard over a weak-kneed geek any day of the week. So to minimize the time-lag I have purchased some time on a revolving basis from these women at the corner tap. By Saturday night, baby, I'm gonna be READY. She'll love me for it.

6. Practice, practice, practice
See #7.

5. Succeed & repeat
See #6. This is so going to be great for her...

4. Conquer your fears
The list says... "...When you feel fear building up when you're doing something with a woman, let it be a sign for you to do something about it. Make fear your signal to act. If you're afraid to start a conversation, take it as a sign that you need to go over there and strike it up. If you're afraid of picking up the phone and calling a woman and asking her out, it means you need to pick up the phone and make it happen."

I thought about this a while because one of my big recurring nightmare fears is that I will be talking to a woman and not know there is a big wad of green lettuce hanging from my left front tooth. I think tonite, when I go to whisper sweet nothings in my wife's ear, I should first take a big bite of a salami sandwich. With romaine.

She'll dig me being so close, and I will have gone a long way to conquer my fear.

3. Do the right thing
The list says "Choosing the high moral ground will give you a feeling of self-respect that translates into strength and confidence around women." Yes I can see that because just look at all the young men on high moral ground in this country that women just flock to. They're all over the streets. Fine, upstanding, moral young men in baggy pants with a dozen women trailing them.

I suddenly have great hope for the future, and an over-riding need to get on this righteous bandwagon.

2. Be a leader
I got this one. Don't take no for an answer - Get my slippers, woman! - (snap fingers) Coffee!

Atta girl. Now - the Friday Night Fights are on... go take a bath I'm gonna need you later (jump eyebrows and wink).

(My wife's gonna love me when I finish this project on myself!)

And the Number 1 way to boost your confidence...
1. Improve your image

This is, like, taking showers and stuff. Yeah okay got it.

I'll keep you posted as to how this works. But I have the ideal in mind. I figure my chances are pretty darn good!

posted by RW @ 9:27 PM 1 ...at the table links to this post






Happy Birthday Vulfie

May I point out that it is Wolgang Mozart's 250th birthday today and despite the fact that it made Antonio Saliari into a perfect monster and toyed mightily with the circumstances of Mozart's death it can be said that the movie "Amadeus" did more to make classical music reachable to more people than any other thing in the last 50 years but the music community is so fickle many of its denizens are already overdone with the celebrations of this birthday and taking it out on Mozart and so... the beat goes on.

In the meantime WFMT is offering "Free Streaming" from 8 this morning (central) until 7 this evening.

I have no idea what "free streaming" is but it sounds good and the two of you in the audience who might be interested should have a chance to try it out.

Whatever it is.

For the record I happen to love Mozart and am a bit flabbergasted at people who seem to blame him for the overdone celebrations.

Happy birthday Vulfie.
posted by RW @ 5:35 AM 0 ...at the table links to this post






Thursday, January 26, 2006
Sereena X Gives Forth On Shenepitude...er...


...schneiderule. Or scheundule... well anyway "Pleasure derived from the misfortunes of others" and what maybe the parts of the brain that make people glad when bad things happen to worse people.

Today's gathering of the Roundtable, hosted by Sereena asks the musical question - who enjoys their shnenectitude... sheoenfuleronimy... schemenendious... (crap) Pleasure derived from the misfortunes of others better more - men or women?

Take a look...
posted by RW @ 12:18 PM 1 ...at the table links to this post






Wednesday, January 25, 2006
27 Things You Need Before You Can be Bistro Ready (3)
Thing 3 - Take Care of Your Servers

I will be the first to admit I haven't always left the right tip in my life, but since I became aware of the server's life I have one rule of thumb: Start with the idea that you're going to put a 20% tip on the bill. If there are issues - work down from there.

20% is common and expected. But there is nothing wrong in making it "performance based" either. If it looks like the server just really doesn't care, isn't attentive, forgets simple things, or intrudes on the conversation to the point you want to just ask them to grab a seat, I see nothing wrong with "docking" them. But as a general rule, I expect to give a 20% gratuity at the end of the evening.

One time, using this rule, I worked one particular idiot down to a nickel. I put it on top of the receipt, then stood at the door waiting for the stupid bastard to pick it up and look over at me. I waved. "That's right you piece of crap, a nickel. Deal with it..."

But I have also left a 25%-er. This I did once. This particular young man remembered each and every idiosyncrasy we threw at him. He was honest about the way a particular dish "looked" tonight. When he did his "check back" he actually listened to the response. He brought us coffee and didn't like the way the cream sat on top of the coffee, so he went and got a fresh cup and cream that wasn't "off." I gave this fellow 25% that night. I thought it was the most professional job of serving I ever saw.

Look... most servers want to get the order right and have you walk out happy. Being a server isn't the most secure job in the world. Temperamental chefs and managers have fired servers on the spot after a stray comment from a non-plussed customer. If they don't know what they're doing - if they don't listen to what you are asking - if they get wrapped up in something else and neglect your "extras" - let your tip show your displeasure. But don't get them fired by complaining unless they bitchslap your wife or something. Everybody gets to have a bad day, and listen; a lot of customers are simply assholes to the staff. Sorry for the bluntness, but a server has to take a lot of crap from drunks and people who are just picky, or crabby, or jerks no matter what you do for them.

The best of all possible worlds is to become a "regular" for a server, if not a restaurant. The ownership and the staff love this above all else, and will often bring complimentaries out if they see you a few times. Then the server becomes part of the evening without crossing that aesthetic distance. Food-as-theatre at its best.

They have lives of their own, you know. Don't order them around like an imperious nutbag. Treat their opinion with respect and start from the viewpoint that they're a resource to enhance your time.

And if they should try some other line of work - leave them a damn nickel. Nuff said.

Here's a link to follow if you want to know what to tip your porters on a safari. Hey - don't say I'm not a public service.

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posted by RW @ 10:25 PM 0 ...at the table links to this post






Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Being A Better Man
This is the usual thing...

I knew months ago I was going to blog this particular thing and had the whole thing worked out complete with a link to the appropriate reference and everything like that. But in the interim I shuffled some papers and actually did Number 3 (see below) and because of that I don't know where it is. So pat my head and call me Chester. There I go again.

But last fall the Chicago Tribune (yeah - like they really need the link) ran an article in the Sunday Magazine called something like "How To Be A Better Man" or maybe "20 Ways To be A Better Man" or some crap like that.

Well, being just the kind of moron that takes that kind of thing seriously I wrote down 11 of the things that at least seemed do-able (or maybe there were only 11 - either way get off my case) just so I could torment people I never met with how I'm doing so far once we get a little further down the line. And it comes out like this.

1. Have two pairs of glasses.
Honest to God I don't know why they put this on the list and since I threw the article away I can't quote it. Something to do with work and fashion and play and fashion and having more than one personality I guess. I'm lucky in that my prescription didn't change so I get to keep my thin metal rims but I went and got these black rims for a second pair (Note to my wife... The picture to the left is not me - I would look like a cancer patient if I did that to my head). So I figure I handled thing One...

2. Have a secret talent - learn how to read a wine list.
Well now... I already had this to some degree so I figured this is pretty much done but, if I am to be honest compared to some people I can only read a wine list so far and then I'm lost. But I'm not so sure - that is I can't remember - if being able to read a wine list was the only thing you could have as a "secret talent." So I'm reading up on wine and developing a secret talent. Of course I can't tell you what that is because then... it wouldn't be... you know.

3. Get rid of clutter. Take all the junk you own, spread it out and throw away 75% of it - edit heavily.
Yeah. This is why I lost the article. Great.

4. Don't watch the evening news.
Ok I'm getting better at this. It's just that the theme music from The NewsHour is somehow evocative of the "perfect job for you" I memed a few years ago. I don't know how to explain it. Leave me alone.

5. "Gentleman's Retreat" Peninsula Hotel.
Yeah this one is likely. Excuse me Lynne, I'm off for a weekend at the Peninsula. What? No my reservation is for one. No, even though you've worked more hours than I have this week you can't go. No. You can't go. Hear me? You. Can't. Go. Oh yeah - that would be Ok....

6. Great shirt / blue jeans
Yeah the idea is that instead of wearing flannels and sweatshirts you've owned for twelve years, the next time you put on a pair of jeans take something out the closet you just had dry-cleaned. This is actually pretty good. I mean - yeah I see that. In fact I have been doing this. I wonder if that was why all those women kept following me home? Ya think?

7. Date night.
Ha! Already a long established tradition in this marriage! Meh-heh-heh. Beat you on that one, Mr. Listy.

8. Daily compliment.
Note to self - forgot this one. Get busy.

9. Hair cut once a month - Sunday is personal "clean up" day.
I get a haircut about once every three weeks and certainly take more than one shower a week. But, according to this I'm to let my hair go an extra week and save my showers for Sunday. Well..... Ok. If that's make me a better man...... so be it.

10. Take care of your feet.
I already have good feet. And because they are one of my better parts, I even grew a third one.

11. Vitamins
Ok yeah. I just started my "For Him 50+" and my Fish Oil capsules. Now this is dedication. I mean... have you ever opened a jar of Fish Oil capsules and took a whiff? This is SERIOUS. Big time.

So looking over this list but for a handful of things I'm already pretty much OK. But I'm going to keep going after it and report back when I get all 11 down to a "T".

I'm already seeing the benefits of taking one shower a week - the women in #6 have vanished. Add this to the fact that I don't have to tell anybody what talent I'm developing and hell - see how cool this is gonna be?
posted by RW @ 8:17 PM 0 ...at the table links to this post






Where Is The Love?
Normally one wacked email does not a posting make, but two in one week starts to look like an absolute deluge; and considering there are only three regulars at this venue it looks like something needs to be addressed here. Dear me.

"Three thousand people died one day at the hands of that murderer and it seems they all died so that a past-middle-aged blogger can make sad-ass jokes about how going out to eat fancy food at overpriced restaurants is the best response.

"You may think it is funny to say that your dressing up and going to restaurants somehow fights the people who hate us and our society, but there are over 100,000 men and women in Iraq who may feel differently and can't do wine pairings in the dessert."
And actually, Chumley, you have a point. What I should be advocating...

...is the complete shut-down of our society and culture. Hunker down in the bunker and suspend everything but essential work in the war against the evil bogeymen who want to take away our NASCAR and Thanksgiving football. Hunker in the Bunker.. is that like the Electric Slide?

I should change this concept into articles on the sixty ways of preparing canned peas and not looking like you're having too much fun in your life because we're all about to die, people are starving somewhere in a desert, or we haven't cured cancer.

I think the best response to bullies is to ridicule them. One day you may get to appreciate the inherent wisdom in that. Jerk.

"A lot of peopel (sic) are out there fighting and dieimg (sic) so you can eat ostrich... It takes a sick person to carry on like that while other people are fighting to protect your rights..."
Good thing I don't do like some bloggers and publish the email addresses of my tormenters. You two guys would be swamped by one or two complaints.

But I guess this follows the thinking of the day, doesn't it? So intent on preserving our way of life that we're willing to change our way of life. Burn the village to save the village (Tom... Metaphors!).

No, guys, actually my ordering a plate of ostrich is really an act of patriotism. I help a small, fledgling industry and really bug the terrorists because I simply won't give any credence to their raving. This makes them angry which, in turn, builds stress which, subsequently effects their cardiovascular system and eventually adds to their budding heart disease problems and contributes to their early demise.

See...? I'm really a hero - and that's the thanks I get.
posted by RW @ 5:20 AM 4 ...at the table links to this post






Monday, January 23, 2006
The Torrents... Part IV
Ok in case you haven't noticed this is a book review that is actually longer than the book. The Torrents of Spring is a 90 page novella and this review - which is really a synopsis only longer - covers about 95 pages itself. I'm not exactly sure what art form this makes what we're doing but it really isn't a book review so much as it is a retelling with occasional stops to let you know what Ernest is doing, the sneaky bastard. So - because you're all falling asleep already here is the penultimate part of the review or whatever this is. And I promise the next entry will conclude the journey....


Quite simply...

White men walk stupidly into the water, Indians walk around, Yogi plays pool and is worried about his withered arm from the War but the little Indian has false arms and doesn't whine about it. See... even in 1926 anybody non-white was better and smarter and wiser and more virtuous. Who would have thought Hemingway - of all people - would have tapped into that modality 40 years before the first actual complaint about Indian mascots and such?

Indians walk proudly while white men sneak home, they have clubs in the attics of stables with pool tables but who were these Indians and where did they go? Yogi looked around.

The ones that brought him were gone. The black bartender is no where near wiser and virtuous. In fact he's rather a stereotype. Ain't dat so massah? Ok Ok - proof everything wasn't yet all PC in 1926.

We're back in 1926.

The two Indians that are left are highly educated but one is named Skunk-Backwards. It must be a pun. No, its just an Indian. The Negro bartender's name is Bruce. This is the only black guy named Bruce in the history of the world. Seriously - do you know any black guys named Bruce? Ever hear of any? Of course not. This isn't 1926 you know!

The Indians are surprised to learn Yogi Johnson is actually White. Red Dog says "Damned good thing this came out in time. There'd have been no end to scandal." Yogi breathes a sign of relief. Well Hemingway doesn't actually say that but you can imagine it. Ernie likes when you use your imagination. Then he likes to drink wine with John Dos Passos. That ungrateful pacifist.

The chapter ends with a lot of fancy French wine names ala Ian Fleming doing one of those pointless essays on alcohol in one of his James Bond books. Ernie and Dos Passos are drinking them. That's when Hemingway decides to finish it tomorrow.

This is getting us no where. Next installment will really really be it for this. Really.

Honest.

Trust me... I been through things.
posted by RW @ 5:35 PM 0 ...at the table links to this post






Saturday, January 21, 2006
Cab's Wine Bistro
Sometimes I wonder if I was meant to be anything more than an amateur. I certainly am no better than one, to be sure. But the thought occurred to me tonight while sitting with my wife at Cab's that it might not be a good idea to tout myself too much in this respect because I just probably enjoy going to a restaurant, and having food brought out to me too much (and then there's the actual eatingness itself) to be objective. It certainly doesn't look too good for me when I come back with positive reports every time we go out, does it? I mean I wish I could rip a restaurant apart one of these days. Maybe I'm just on a good run of luck?

With the 8" of snow we had dumped on us last night piled harmlessly to the sides and bothering no one anymore Lynne and I made our way to the quiet 'burb of Glen Ellyn determined to shake both the winter blues and the threat of impending doom off our sleeves. If nothing else, the doom has abated.

Breaking the ice with a Pear-Pecan salad and what had to be fresh-made bread I jumped on and stayed with the Syrah by the glass I intended to keep all the way through the ostrich. I had every intention of seeing if I could find a nice Australian Shiraz, as noted, but was in no way disappointed to find a Rhone Blend Syrah (even better) by the glass instead.

Lynne went for the French Onion Soup and was delighted with what seemed to be some kind of tomato base for it. It was quite different and seemed to keep the onion from being too bossy. From there she went into what the menu calls "Cab's Bistro" - the local version of a signature bistro plate of Steak Frites - paired up with a chatty Pinot Noir that seemed a good little noisemaker behind that skirt steak and the herb butter topping.

As for me - I love ordering things like ostrich when the server slightly nods and smiles at the call. I look for clues like that. It gives me a feeling that I did something really good. Really right. In the first place, as we've said before, if you want the call yourself a "bistro" then things like ostrich and rabbit and similar special touches have to exist on the bill of fare. There just isn't any two ways about it. If you are calling yourself a "bistro" and not providing these kinds of delectables you're not exactly being honest with your customers or yourself.

Anyway... stop me... the server nodded and smiled. I figured I was in the chips. And I wasn't disappointed. Wild mushrooms, asparagus, and garlic mashed potatoes fanned around by a serving of ostrich in a Porcini mushroom sauce.

To be honest with you, that plate proved itself to be a better man than me. Mind you I had never had ostrich before - and the two or three people who told me about it didn't give me the full story, in my opinion. They all wanted to tell me it was "just like beef" in flavor, but whether it was the sauce or something else I'm not sure. Whatever it was I wouldn't say beef exactly. It certainly looks more like a beef than a fowl, but flavor-wise it was much more delicate than beef. There's little to commend it to the bird family, but I think beef would be too easy a description. Certainly not exact enough.

This did not present itself as "game" and because of its exceedingly low fat-content there was no disconcerting marbling to distract you. And the list that gave us the pairing with Syrah/Shiraz was spot-on. Though the Porcini mushroom sauce made itself known, the underlying delicate tempered all flare-out. A perfect match.

If I had one qualm it was mashed potatoes. I'm not a big fan of them in any case and their presence made the meal just a little too heavy. I would rather a few new potatoes, quartered. Not so much mass, and a tiny little less garlic.

But anyway while we finished the night with peach bread pudding and vanilla ice cream with chocolate shavings and a raspberry sauce, my wife and I noted the crowd. A noisey Saturday night and it was obvious the staff was recognizing regulars. I suppose you could chance a table but I think that would be foolish, especially on the weekend. Get a reservation, and let the food and the aromas and the good talk amongst old friends surround you.

Cab's is at 430 N. Main St. in Glen Ellyn, IL and can be contacted at 630-942-9463. Monday - Thursday 5:00 - 10:00 pm. Friday & Saturday 5:00 - 10:30 pm. And open Sunday from 4:30 to 8:00 in the evening.

Honk this, Osama....

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posted by RW @ 9:54 PM 2 ...at the table links to this post






Friday, January 20, 2006
Eat Me
Separated at birth?

Osama bin Laden has declared that we will see his preparations for our destruction in our homes the minute they are ready, and many a frantic email arrived on our desktop today with the same plaintive cries from our loyal readership that are voiced whenever we are once again reminded of the wickedness in this world.

We want you to know that this hunt is going to be a long one. There will be victories and defeats. The road is long, but we will prevail. Our cause is a just one, and we must take the day. No matter how many temporary setbacks bin Laden may want to throw our way - in the end we will find Vincenzo. I can promise you that.

In the meantime, I intend on demonstrating my concern for the latest threat by doing what we at this internet venue do best, and thereby putting bin Laden in his proper perspective...

...I'm going to try ostrich for dinner Saturday night. The operations are under preparation and I will see them tomorrow night on my plate at Cab's Bistro, Allah willing.

I struggled a bit with what the wine pairing might be and consulted the highest authority known in order to find my answers. And so we've settled on a nice Shiraz... NO NO NO! I mean SHIRAZ! Oh crap... I MEAN SHIRAZ!!

Crikey!

A full report will be given tomorrow night. And do not fear, dear friends - for life must continue despite the horrible games some men will plague us with (no matter what side of the ocean they reside on). We must persist in demanding to have our own lives be in our own control. The bloodsport and war games, the hatred and villainy there is in the world, must all be seen for what it is... something that gets in the way of people who just want to live their lives and raise their children and grow old in the company of friends and loved ones. The brutal games of the "great men" of the world notwithstanding.

Life is not meant to be wasted fearing men who want to frighten children, but to ponder the greater questions; like what does the expanding universe expand into? Can nonviolence really triumph over brutality? And can you order ostrich medium well?
posted by RW @ 5:11 PM 3 ...at the table links to this post






Thursday, January 19, 2006
The Roundtable for January 19




Well alright I know of two dogs who feel differently but as far as I am concerned Anthony Hopkins missed the boat by about seven piers during his acceptance speech at the Golden Globes the other night.

I make this remark in reference to the introduction piece they made for him, a segment of which showed a scene he played with Katharine Hepburn in the film The Lion In Winter, as the narration told about all the great actors he's shared the screen with.

The plain fact is that Hopkins, for all his oh-so-sweetly correct mentions of the faceless caterers and grips and hair combers and microphone handlers and janitors and the cleaning women who wipe off the casting couch afterwards, missed his one big chance to make the greatest speech of his life, and now will never have the chance to make again...

"I'm honored to receive the lifetime award and also for Gwyneth to say that I am one of the greatest actors of this generation, but the thing is the only reason she can say that is because they needed an old guy to give the award to tonight and real actors like Alec Guinness and Charles Laughton are both dead.

"I'm fully aware that playing Hannibal Lechter resurrected my otherwise insipid little career and gave me full cult status amongst young people who weren't old enough to discover just how truly mediocre I actually am in comparison to actors like Lon Chaney Sr. or even John Garfield.

"And so I take this award in the name of all the great actors who inspired me but I could never hope to emulate, in full recognition that for as great as she was even Katharine Hepburn phoned-in Eleanor of Aquitaine in the scene you just saw because the Lion In Winter was a pretentious bore and every last one of us had a wonderful time over-acting in the midst of one of the dumbest film scores in the history of the movies."
Anyway it would be a lot easier to dismiss Hopkins if only he wasn't actually such a decent fellow. But damn it this is certainly what he should have said, if he had his wits about him and didn't feel so obligated to be the elder statesman for all the young personalities... I mean actors... there in the room with him.

It was probably too much to ask anyhow. After all, the ultimate acceptance speech to a lifetime achievement award has already been given, and that by the completely singular director known to his family only as Alfred Hitchcock, at the Oscars in 1967.

After a lengthy examination of his filmography, innovations and creation of flawless ensembles, the listing of the numerous careers of countless actors and young directors he had either help start or influenced, the presentation of film clip after film clip and each one a recognizable cultural icon through the generations, a stirring introduction followed by a rafter-crashing and tumultuous standing ovation that lasted several boisterous minutes, band playing, lights flashing; Hitchcock stood in erect silence calmly waiting for the crowd to sate itself and then, when they were finished with the noise and clatter he made the greatest acceptance speech ever. He inhaled slowly and said "Thank you."

Then walked off the stage.

There has never been another moment like it. But there should have been.

posted by RW @ 12:03 AM 13 ...at the table links to this post






Wednesday, January 18, 2006
27 Things You Need Before You Can be Bistro Ready
Thing 2 - Recognize Oscar Levant as Your Spirit Animal


Never mind antelope or okapi or lions, if you are going to be "Bistro-Ready" you have to be familiar with the guy who said "Well... schizophrenia beats dining alone." Watch the man who was able to carry on so boldly despite everything. On one hand, the self-deprecation; "Underneath this flabby exterior is an enormous lack of character," and on the other a searing observer of the whole stupid world - "Behind the phony tinsel of Hollywood lies the real tinsel"
Born in Pittsburgh Levant - a musical child prodigy - would go to New York as a teenager to study under Stojowski. He would befriend George Gershwin and, in time, be considered the premier interpreter of his friend's work. And before he was done, he would take a turn at acting in films (Humoresque, Rhapsody in Blue) while continuing with his music as both a performer and an accomplished composer. On television he became one of the young medium's first "problem children" (pre-dating Howard Stern by decades) with live air comments like "Well... now that Marilyn Monroe is kosher, Arthur Miller can eat her."
(Reference)

It would pay to remember, however, that though Oscar could quip "Roses are red, violets are blue, I'm schizophrenic, and so am I" - eliciting belly-laughs from his audiences, the fact remains that he did spend years of his life in and out of "institutions". Many held he was merely a sociopath - Lenny Bruce with a flair for the sonatina - but a case could be made that Oscar Levant was just a little out of his time. His personal observation on the subject was typical Levant: "There's a fine line between genius and insanity - I have erased this line."

The interviewer leans in and asks the composer to describe his work. The composer look at the newsman, but really through him, and unconsciously dead-pans an answer he doesn't really feel is any more witty than a common sneeze. He responds in light-hearted earnestness: "This concerto is fourteen minutes long, mostly in fast tempo, relieved with an all-too short slow section. Composed in the late Thirties, this music reflects an arrogance and a pretentiousness based on an economic and emotional insecurity. However, those are days we now look back on as happy."

To the over-weaning bitch trying to snake into the millionaire's conga line with her new money and furs - "Every time I look at you I get a fierce desire to be lonesome."

To the over-serious commentator who wants to know that Levant supports the same candidate - "The only difference between the Democrats and the Republicans is that the Democrats allow the poor to be corrupt, too."

We forget our character in this country. We have lost sight of the masters. Defining icons of the American scene are lost in a blur of mean-spirited debate and cynical maneuvers. Levant was an original, and we may only approach this level of randomity.

It is impossible to be bistro-ready without his memory.

Reference


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posted by RW @ 12:12 AM 1 ...at the table links to this post






Tuesday, January 17, 2006
A Test of the Emergency Broadcast Center
I think I figured out a way to manipulate Blogger into getting me a "Table of Contents"...

Let's see if it works. Click!
posted by RW @ 5:35 AM 2 ...at the table links to this post






Monday, January 16, 2006
27 Things You Need Before You Can be Bistro Ready

If you think you can stroll into any old taverne, sit languidly arm over chairback, head on a pinion, pearls of wit effortlessly dripping from your lips, and not know three dishes that would be signature to a bistro that would help differentiate it from a mere restaurant you have the first clue that you are not quite yet "bistro ready." In order to help the younger generation coming up we felt it behooved us to list 27 things that will help you become so. These are the American version of the rules and they would differ from the authentic French ones, but if you mastered these 27 any Frenchman worth his salt wouldn't shoo you away from the table.



Thing One - Familiarity with Joan Armatrading

As in, if you've never heard of her, or if you've heard her work and don't get it, or if you hear it and don't like it, or you have no desire to find out what she does ...

...there may still be hope for you in some cases - though in varying degrees.

If you've never heard of her - this isn't a crime. It could even be understandable if you are under 35. Plus she is not an artist you can easily categorize. Maybe folk. Maybe jazz. Maybe raggae. Well no, not maybe - those are all in there. Anyway those are three parts of the mix. Actually there isn't a form or a genre she really fits in. Sometimes orchestrated and sometimes just her with her guitar, Joan Armatrading demonstrates the nuts and bolts of an emotion with her music. Lyrics that sometimes evoke e e cummings or Ira Gershwin or Bob Dylan... or maybe its just Joan Armatrading. Anyway - this can be corrected. If you've never heard of her, she can still be heard. This is easy enough.

If you hear her music and don't get it there is also still hope. You may only need the mentoring of a more experienced ear. You may only require a more wider depth to your personal musical vocabulary. You may only need to be better informed about music as a science or an art. If you came to listen to Joan Armatrading with a broader set of references, this problem would also be solved.

If you hear it and don't like it - it may be time to ask yourself why you want to be "bistro-ready" in the first place. Do you have an idea? I can't imagine a person would hear Joan Armatrading, not like it (perfectly within your rights), and yet still want to be in the company of people who were "bistro-ready." So this result may still allow you to alter your ways, or it may be a legitimate sign that you should be seeking another kind of environment. You couldn't possibly be thinking about my table.

Now - finally - if you have no desire to even hear Joan Armatrading, then we may advance an entire list of questions your way. We could question not only your fitness to be here (since an open mind would probably be Thing 0.5 ahead of Thing 1.0) but your motives for coming this far. If you have no desire to even know what her music is about, then you can't possibly know that boar, rabbit, and duck would be three signature dishes that would separate a bistro from a restaurant. So you'd be an idiot all the way around.

Just as if you took "27 Things You Need Before You Can be Bistro Ready" too seriously. Yep - an idiot just the same.

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posted by RW @ 6:40 PM 3 ...at the table links to this post






Sunday, January 15, 2006
Blogging Ernie - Part Three
The third part of the review of Ernest Hemingway's The Torrents of Springthat came 80 years too late.

Part One
Part Two

Hemingway ends the second part of the book (titled "The Struggle For Life") confiding to the reader that he will be happy to read anything you send him. Too bad he's dead - but I'm sure there are quite enough sociopaths in the world to send something to Scribner's c/o Ernie anyway, the callous bastards!

The Third Part is over-titled "Men In War and The Death of Society." It promises to be more important right off the start with a title like that but instead we're back to Yogi Johnson in the pump factory in Michigan. So there you go.

Hemingway writes...

"Yogi was worried. There was something on his mind. It was spring, there was no doubt of that now, and he did not want a woman."

He didn't want librarians or waitresses. Even horses can be lovers, but not with him.

Yogi walking past some buildings. Yogi to the edge of town. Yogi looking over the vista before him. Yogi seeing Waco Texas somewhere out there.

Two Indians walked up to him. One points to the sky in reverence and says "Up there gitchy Manitou the Mighty" and the other Indian elbows Yogi in the ribs and whispers "White chief no believe every goddam thing he hear."

Yogi tells them about the war. He gives them a football lesson and what you do when you're the Center and the Quarterback sticks his cold hands under there... but why didn't he want a woman? Did the librarian know he had false teeth? Who cares about her anyhow...

In war first you are brave, then you were scared, then you started doing good deeds, and finally there's no sugar in your pocket for a couple of lesbian horses. Life sucks that way, sort of like Willa Cather, who wrote a book once.

"Wow..." one of the Indians says. "White chief educated like hell." Well sure - they went to Carlisle. They would know. They know a thing or two. Yes sir. The other Indian was asleep. Then the slush started to freeze up in the road.

Maybe it wasn't spring.
posted by RW @ 9:30 PM 0 ...at the table links to this post






Saturday, January 14, 2006
The Next Big Thing
Keeping ahead of the trend, I'm going to tell you about a catchphrase we will be hearing more and more of in the next few years so that when you are surrounded by the term you will remember who first warned you about its coming. This is my small victory in the face of my own personal anonymity. I suppose I may now die happy having done it.

But the phrase is and has already been in use in the rarefied atmosphere of urban planning and architectural discussion groups for a few years, and will be making its way into more public use as politicians in general and the ultimate statist centralized government for your own good crowd in particular, will soon be using it as a code word for reasons to confiscate property.

So tell me... do you live in the "Inner Suburbs"?

Mary Ann Barton more closely defined the phenomenon back in 2004...
Decaying from lack of attention, they have grown tired and worn. Partly as a result, some inner-ring suburb residents have moved to newer suburbs, often leaving their lower-income neighbors behind.
"[The inner-ring suburbs] all are suffering from common problems: the aging process and losing their tax base," says William Hudnut, former mayor of Indianapolis, current senior fellow at the Urban Land Institute in Washington, D.C., and author of "Halfway to Everywhere: A Portrait of America's First-Tier Suburbs."

...In addition to losing people and increasing poverty, the older suburbs are experiencing a deteriorating infrastructure, rapid ethnic change, a decreasing retail presence and poor school performance, Hudnut points out. To reverse those trends, some communities are focusing redevelopment efforts in inner-ring suburbs in an effort to reestablish their cultural, social and economic viability.

In response to this because "your neighborhood is becoming more dangerous", and "the competition between so many municipalities is bad for planning" and so forth, the condition becomes an argument for greater centralization of power based on the belief that wide use of the government's confiscatory warrant through eminent domain is the best answer.

This is the next stop on the line you will be railroaded through.

Of course voices have arisen to make a stand against the idea, but we've seen how this works before. Eventually those speaking out against the coming tide will be tossed aside by saying they are

1. Trying to hold onto a constitutional ideal that no longer makes sense in the modern world because the framers could never foresee urban sprawl and al Qaida and yadda yadda yadda.

2. Standing in the way of progress and therefore allowing the suburban dreams of people who work for a living to deteriorate in a flush of rising crime (code word) as (the unspoken subtext...) more and more minorities move to the suburbs.

and 3. People who don't know what is good for you, like we do.

The rise of the powers inherent in eminent domain may seem useful to some. But for those of us who believe being suspicious of government IS the first definition of Patriotism, its coupling with the growing sentiment for more centralization in local government seems like a very dangerous thing.
posted by RW @ 8:00 AM 0 ...at the table links to this post






Friday, January 13, 2006
The Roundtable Cometh
I am very happy to tell you that the bloggers' version of the old Algonquin Roundtable is about to move into the real world, and sooner than expected. I had originally thought the organization of it would go into February and set a tentative (read; arbitrary) date of February 1 as a jump off, but the membership is anxious and ready and we can always pick people up as we move along.

So let me tell you, readers, what we have collected for your edification...

The Roundtable so far consists of Don Baiocchi, Lauren Poulin, Sareena X, Steve Funk, and myself.

As soon as a few organizational things are set up we will commence and see where it takes us.

I should tell those of you who don't know me that in my life of crime I once edited a small independent 'zine in the old old 80s known as the Fiction Review. No trace of this surface mag is left except in the bottoms of some memories; but I am proud to say that my little effort published some now legendary people in the alternative press world; namely John M Bennett and the great and tragic stone genius of Columbia Chicago known as Lorri Jackson. In fact The Fiction Review was the place Lorri published her last version of "And the Corpse Had Numerous Tattoos". She sent me the manuscript the night before she died.

The collection of this spectrum of talent - all of which was well established on their own before I came on the scene - remains my personal nexus. And this is the long way around the barn to say - I know good writing when I see it. I may be the epitome of the old saw; those who can - DO. Those who can't - are editors.

And I think the crew we're building for this project looks pretty good from here.

It is open, dear reader, for application. The link above explaining the Roundtable gives you some idea of what we're going to be doing. Once a week one of the group hosts, and the members pitch in - even if only for a brief comment. Then we see what happens.

It is - I stress again - a link exchange with content. Not the empty "click this and earn a credit and somebody clicks you back" nonsense (the likes of which I just deleted from the sidebar).

Stay tuned. It will be a great ride.
posted by RW @ 10:23 PM 1 ...at the table links to this post






America's Wine
Of course I am speaking of the eternal Zinfandel and let's put the fire out right now:
Yes the grape originated elsewhere and Yes it was pretty much disregarded and undeveloped as a wine grape where it originally came from (The Balkans?) But the fact that it had to emigrate to America to make its fame and fortune is, after all, the quintessential American story. And here is the rest of what you need to know...

Zinfandel is America's Wine...



For one thing, it is the only American wine that has an fan club. Of course one could call that simply a brilliant marketing scheme, but if you do you risk sounding like a jealous cabernet lover. Is there anything more absurd than a cabernet lover who whines and cries? Hardly.

What is it that makes Zin "the thing of it is"? Well may you ask. And simply answered, there is just no other wine quite like it. Any given vineyard or methodology can produce a Zin dominant with the remembrance of cranberry, or raspberry, or blackberry, or boysenberry. Maybe black currant, or perhaps black cherry or bing cherry, or a plum, or prunes. Maybe raisins, or rhubarb. Others can seem like chocolate, or coffee, or even burnt toast. Some taste roses or violets. Source: Ann Noble's "Aromawheel"

The wine's versatility is phenomenal. I have seen it paired with everything from steak or barbecue to duck and lamb. It is a wine that can move through the whole meal - matching a raspeberry vinaigrette with the salad, staying with venison dashed in a ligonberry sauce, and hanging on with the dessert. Granted what I have described is the Armageddon Version of the wine's use: fire with fire, using it to add-to rather than off-set. That is simply my taste. Others, certainly, will use it to moderate. But it is such a wine to add-to, in my opinion, and if you allow it to overpower less fearsome dishes it simply doesn't work. Anyway that is the debate, and the wonder of this grape.

Zin-lovers are legendary. The wine has a habit of drawing people in and developing a passion for the grape and its possibilities. Notable Zin-fanatics abound.

We will, however, stay away from the camel urine often called "White" Zinfandel, as - actually - there is no such thing. Consider it dismissed.


A glass of true Zinfandel along with this, on the other hand, couldn't possibly be a mistake......
(<--- Recipe)
posted by RW @ 5:11 PM 0 ...at the table links to this post






Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Book Review 80 Years Later (Continued)
(This being the second installment of a book review being done kind of late. The book Torrents of Spring was written by Mr Hemingway in 1926 and brilliantly reviewed here but the review didn't finish. Here is the second part.)

Part Two - The Struggle For Life (I can't help but think of a voice in an echo chamber semi-shouting in a threatening monotone Journey To The beginning Of Time! but instead saying The Struggle For Life and the orchestra gives three quick notes in ominous order DUMM-Dumm-Dummmmm....

Chapter Six and our hero - Scripps O'Neil - is looking for work. He doesn't go into a barber shop because that's not what he wants. He wants a job.

That's when he stumbles onto the pump factory (they couldn't fool him, he could tell what it was by the pumps).

He knocks on the door that has a sign telling him to KEEP OUT and meets the foreman. Anything the foreman says goes. He's Australian.

This is where we meet Yogi Johnson, a guy who has been through things. Scripps noted, Yogi looked like he'd been through things. And he knows the foreman isn't really an Australian. Yogi shows him the big pump factory. Men stripped to the waist working on steel. Indians in the corner hacking at metal shards making them into razor blades (this is definitely dream-sequence stuff. Hemingway was a noted drinker... and he's been through things) they sometimes try and sneak out to sell on the black market.

Yogi takes him to see the two old men. The experts. Scripps talks to them. A year later Scripps still works there.

But Chapter Seven starts back at the night of the first day Scripps worked there (see how he is...?). The bird made him uncomfortable but he cut a slit in his shirt so it could peek out while he worked. It was okay then. Okay. He walked to the beanery.

The waitress - whom he would one day marry - was an old English lady who read the Manchester Guardian (is that from New Hampshire??). They meet at the beanery where he goes to eat.

Waitress: It's good to have you back.
Scripps: I worked all day long... for you.
Waitress: And I have been working all day long too... for you!
Scripps: You are my woman.
Waitress: You are my man.

(Tears well-up in one of their eyes, I couldn't tell which)

But in case you think I'm kidding here is the actual passage after that...

"You are my man," she said.
"Once again I say: you are my woman." Scripps pronounced the words solemnly. Something had broken inside him again. He felt he could not keep from crying.
"Let this be our wedding ceremony," the elderly waitress said. Scripps pressed her hand. "You are my woman," he said simply.
"You are my man and more than my man." She looked into his eyes. "You are all of America to me."
"Let us go," Scripps said.
"Have you your bird?" asked the waitress....


They continue this line of discussion all the way out the door, where Scripps discovers the waitress has no hat and promises, while doing a ballet step with pointed toe I think... "Then I shall buy you one."

"It will be your wedding gift!"

"And now let us go..."

The black guy in the kitchen gets the last word just so we know its 1926.

They come back into the beanery half an hour later as if nothing had happened except for their whole lives being changed.

In the beanery there sits a drummer and a new waitress. First we find out that the drummer knows what's what, and the new waitress starts engaging Scripps in a somewhat erotic discussion about Henry James the writer.

The drummer tells Scripps what a nice bird he has, but later on Mrs. Scripps (the old waitress from England who married Marshall Foch, I mean General Joffre) - who also likes his bird (maybe a little too much) starts to worry if under the pressure of the new waitresses' erotic conversations about Henry James she can hold Scripps' affection. She asks herself over and over; can I hold him? Can I hold him? Can I hold him? He sure does enjoy talking to the new waitress about Henry James.

So she, Mrs. Scripps, subscribes to The New Century in an effort to match the new waitress' smart talk about Henry James. She doesn't want to be seen wearing her glasses. She cries for no reason. Can she hold him? Can she hold him? Can she hold his bird?

As soon as Scripps took her arm she knew... she couldn't hold him. But Hemingway - at this point - isn't clear if it was something she gleaned from the manner of the touch or because she couldn't move her arm once he grabbed it. Metaphors. Damn them to eternal hell.

More to come...
posted by RW @ 5:34 AM 0 ...at the table links to this post






Sunday, January 08, 2006
What Does It Take?
I have a story of a restaurant in the Twilight Zone.

If I told you I know of a place where the food was unfailingly far above the average every time out of the box; where the service never failed to be attentive and personable; where the wine list varied enough to treat any pairing you could think of; and where every last published review you could find anywhere praises the place to high heaven - you could be excused in thinking that I was maybe talking about a place where it was probably impossible to get a table, and was so well known by now that the bloom was off the rose. Ho hum, here's RW telling us what we already know... AGAIN!.

But Je suis désolé mon petit potiron, you'd be wrong, wrong, wrong...

Take a look at this review, and this review, and what about this one as well. Oh. Wait. Here's another one. Who is unhappy? Where are the problems?

But where is everybody??

Tonite my wife and I returned from our third visit since Bistro Maisonette opened, and we were one of maybe three tables going in the place. Granted it is a Sunday night in the suburbs, and so most people in Bloomingdale are anywhere but out. But given the traits of a good restaurant which Maisonette exhibits (and has always exhibited), you would think something has to give. So... what gives?

Tonite I started with the Bistro Salad of mixed greens, sliced apples, bleu cheese and walnuts with the (secret) house vinagrette, followed by the Duck Breast & Leg (medium rare) with sweet and sour red cabbage and a dash of bacon. And because I am a berserker fanatic barbarian I topped it all off with a Zinfandel from the Sierra foothills. My wife took the mushroom soup and then the Pork Tenderloin with the sweet potatoes and ligonberry sauce. We are not slaves to the white wine / red wine mantra, and she accompanied this with a pleasant little Cosentino Sangiovese.

If there were technical problems with the meal my wife felt her plate was a bit oversauced, and I could have even gone more rare on the duck. Minor issues, really. My highest compliment (an empty plate) spoke my opinion.

And so, over dessert (a particular area where Bistro Maisonette gets an A+ if only because they leave the coffee pots at the table!) Lynne and I engaged in the same conversation we had the last time we were in the place. Namely: where is everybody?

I only remember one item among the entrees over $25. You can pump your tab up with drinks and desserts but if you're a light spender you get a very full plate for a reasonable $16-17. So it can't be the price. I wonder about the location - the Old Towne section of Bloomingdale is a renovated cluster of boutiques and buildings that is quaint enough to walk around in but they've always seemed to be reaching for atmosphere here. The buildings are Old West / up-and-coming 1880-90's style whatevers and pastel to abstraction. Still it is considered a valuable place to have your business. I can't recall going there for anything but restaurants. You couldn't get a safer place to be, I suppose.

We settled on a few ideas. They need to pipe the sound system into the first floor lounge. We felt a little detached from the music - but then there was dead air. From one minute to the next it felt very isolated and silent. Even if there were only six other people in the place this is a bistro after all.

We longed for some Damia, Frehel, Mistinguet, Suzy Solidor, Yvette Guilbert, Lucienne Boyer or - for heaven's sake - Edith Piaf. In season, fruit and cheese boards, or anytime "nosh plates". Something to hold onto the concept. Better art on the walls? I don't know. But something. Do any of the great reviews linked above talk to you about the bistro atmosphere, really? They do not.

Bistro Maisonette seems to want to live on the reputation of the food - not a terrible idea for a restraurant after all; but in this industry there needs another level.

It's a bistro. It should act like one. Or else it can continue to be one of my favorite unspoiled dining secret gems few people know about. I should probably shut up about it. But the choice is theirs. In that the place is five minutes from my house - I hope it stays here forever.

But go. You should go. That which will be placed before you will not disappoint.

Bistro Maisonette
109 Franklin St.
Bloomingdale, IL 60108-2956
630-924-0930

Lunch: 11:30 a.m.-2:30 p.m., Tuesday-Friday Dinner: 5-9 p.m., Tuesday-Thursday; 5-10 p.m., Friday-Saturday; 4-8 p.m., Sunday until 8:30. Closed Monday.

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posted by RW @ 12:47 PM 2 ...at the table links to this post






Saturday, January 07, 2006
The Roundtable Is Forming Up
A little project we're working on meant to be a kind of active link-exchange but with some actual content is moving along at a nice rate of speed.

In my travels I have come upon some great blogs. I have to say, though, that I have also discovered what most people probably already knew. The majority of blogs in the world are absolute shit. If I see one more blog described as "the not too sentimental insane ramblings of a thirty-something catloving dreamer from Pittsburgh" I believe I shall cut off my feet.

There are 5 or 6 spots left and we plan to start...

...probably February 1st. There are about four that are considering offers at the moment and two have committed.

Sareena X at Metaphor, Dummy is a provocative writer whose material addresses you from many different levels. A reference here or there belies a deeper understanding of the subject being addressed, and a hint of world-weariness seems to temper the proceedings. One gets the notion there is an intense eye, observing. She also has an unfailing judgment for the visual.

Steve Funk of Serenade in Green is a fellow Chicagoan and his lack of snobbery should offset my eternally uplifted nose quite well. He covers a broad range of topics, and one gets the feeling he'd be comfortable (and useful) at talking about everything from the practical to the esoteric because... well... that's what he's already doing. His libertarian worldview endeared him to me almost immediately.

If you, friend reader, would like to participate in a roundtable wherein once a week a different member posts to the group at their site and the others point to it on theirs (and participate on that week's host's), in an effort to build traffic with a legitimate product in behalf of those participating - please use the email link in the sidebar and we'll take a look.

If you are as tired as I am of empty traffic generated by pointless clubs and webrings, you may have the first thing that could qualify. We're looking for creative folks from as many varied disciplines as possible.

Think about it, OK?
posted by RW @ 9:12 AM 0 ...at the table links to this post






Friday, January 06, 2006
80 Years Later, A Review - Part One
I am sitting near a Chinese restaurant in Illinois. It is getting cold. There was a dog on the window-sill. The Book begins with us looking at Yogi Johnson looking out the window of a pump factory. It is cold outside. Even snow. He isn't the main character. Scripps O'Neil is. So far. He, Scripps O'Neil, has two wives and eventually hears Indian war whoops. His daughter's name is Lucy. But he's never been to Paris. That was Yogi.

He, Scripps O'Neil, lost his wife in a night of drinking on the railroad tracks. Or he lost his wife on the railroad tracks in a night of drinking. But that doesn't matter. Yogi is looking out the window…

The foreman had been to Duluth once. Duluth wasn't Paris. But that didn't stop the chinook wind from blowing.

I don't know what became of the half-finished pumps. They were hung up next to the Indians.

This is where we find out there are no geldings in Paris - just stallions. And more details about His', Scripps', daughter Lucy (who he calls Lousy but it might be Loos-ee and not exactly lao-see) what cost him a cool 75 bucks in doctor bills when she was born.

It never becomes clear unless the reader collects the dots on his own exactly which of his two wives is Lucy's mother but it probably isn't going to be his', Scripps', second wife the older woman who waitresses at the beanery which is Best By Test. In fact Lucy just sort of appears in a high school in Mancelona, just about the same time the first reference to what Hemingway is actually doing with Torrents occurs...

Scripps recalls, somewhat, a line of a poem that he runs through his head thusly;
"Through pleasures and palaces though I may roam,
When you something something something there's no place like home."

As when Hemingway writes;

"He opened the door of his house and went in. Something kept going through his head. He tried to get it out but it was no good."

As in... he had a funny feeling. Something stirred inside him. And other telltale signs that a writer is a fraud - Hemingway proceeds to skewer up with tomatoes and onions over an open flame.

And so we get to the point - in this short work of under 100 pages E.H. is eviscerating every manufactured phony he ever met in the "literary world", and finishes the second chapter in a row with Indian war whoops.

Though I know Torrents is not the typical Hemingway (I picked up To Have And Have Not at the same time and have leafed through the pages so I know this to be true because something stirred inside me... I had a funny feeling... and I couldn't get it out...) I begin, by page 7 to wish I had never neglected Hemingway so long.

Covering Chapter Three and a bit beyond asks the musical question; "Red and Black Laughter" which really isn't a question so much as a statement of what's on sale in this book.

Chapters 3, 4 and 5 round out the Laughter Section, and in here we have the understanding that Lucy is his daughter by his first wife because he leaves Mancelona and eventually comes upon the waitress in Brown's Beanery who is English and is eventually his wife again. Unless of course the part about Mancelona was done in flash-forward. Oh well it doesn't really matter. EH has gutted the time-travel variants of trick photography and the unnamed something something that occurs to you when you are in the middle of something something.

In this section he picks up a dead bird and puts it inside his coat and it warms up and pecks at his chest hairs. This is a remarkable event but its okay because everyone likes Scripps' bird. Even Scripps likes his bird. Scripps like to hold his bird and the waitress will learn to pet his bird. Birds are good. But you are left wondering if bird had another meaning in 1926 or was it invented by Steve Allen? Oh well nobody knows until you flash fast forward a little. Oops too far there.

The first part ends with Scripps about to go after a job in the pump factory he was working in when we first met him. See how it gets?

The second part is titled "The Struggle For Life" and we are sure it has another meaning. But nevermind - we are on page 23 by now, very close to Petosky, Michigan on the other side of the lake from Chicago where there are barber shops.

Stay tuned.
posted by RW @ 4:50 PM 0 ...at the table links to this post






Thursday, January 05, 2006
All I Can Say Is...
I don't even remember anymore where I met her. I think it was - I think - we were in the midst of an online political discussion and discovered we were surrounded by people who didn't get the humor or something, and when she walked away I didn't see any reason to stick around either anymore. We visited each other's blogs and kept the joke going - her doing most of the tickling. When I discovered I had a daughter just a few years younger than her I began to call her my "other daughter" - and as time went on I discovered I was just as proud of what she was doing as if she had been one, really.

She went along with the gag and called me her "blogpop" and has never once failed to make me smile, or glad I met her even if it is actually true I never actually met her...

Her commentaries savaged what needed to be savaged and graced what couldn't be hurt by added grace. Her depth of knowledge belied her age. Her devotion to her own daughter was strength for the long haul. When she married I felt as if I had walked yet another of my "girls" down the aisle. But in truth, all I've done is bask in the glow a little, and wormed my way amongst her friends from time to time, and acted the old fart in that patient company. Along for the ride. That no one minded was what kept me coming back. That and the never-failing heart.

A law student. A Mom. A survivor. An artist. A web designer (you are looking at one of her designs, by the way). A devastating critic. A wickedly funny coquette. An iron will in the face of people behaving badly. A loyal friend. A free mind. A few nights ago this blog was having some technical troubles and she was the first and only one I called. I handed her my password and let her have at it. Next morning I awoke and it was all better. Is that enough to know?

Today she unveiled her latest creation and - as all dutiful parents should - I am telling everyone I meet.

Welcome in Agent Bedhead.

Let the press quote me now... Tom Cruise is doomed.
posted by RW @ 10:25 PM 1 ...at the table links to this post






Wednesday, January 04, 2006
A Foodie Forum Without Parallel
I had always thought that my twenty years of fine dining everywhere from Europe to the far West Coast of America and many places in between qualified me as a step above the average amateur "foodie" in this world. And so modest a gourmande to boot! (hah) But I have just discovered a place that makes me want to just sit in the corner and sip a nice quiet Oban, keep my mouth otherwise shut, and just watch folks who really know what they're talking about teach me things I never knew. Even about the city I was born and have lived in for over 50 years.

Not that I am encouraging anyone to stay away from my latest find, quite the opposite. If you are the kind of person who lives in the greater Chicago area and can only look at so much food porn before you have to have it and you also love sharing your culinary adventures - then here is a must visit on the web...

The LTHForum (so named after a Chinese restaurant called Little Three Happiness held in special esteem by a key forum participant) is an absolute treasure trove, a goldmine, a veritable encyclopedia of gargantuan and cornocopian knowledge and wisdom relative to the food scene in what we locals call "Chicagoland."

I spent an hour or two there just now, and am amazed by the staggering amount of valuable information and varied insights shared by and between what is listed as well over 1000 participants. This is a forum (requires a simple registration) that encourages your reports of your experiences. On the subject of restaurants, the LTH leaves Centerstage and the Chicago City Guide looking a little pale.

The main activity takes place in separated forums titled Eating out in Chicagoland ("From fine dining & wining to street food in the Chicago area"), Beyond Chicagoland ("Food and drink in the rest of the world"), and Shopping and Cooking ("Suppliers, recipes, bottled beverages, food media and other non-restaurant food chat"). And here's the meat and potatoes (shudder) of the forum. No. Wait. I like meat and potatoes. What am I shuddering for?? Snob.

There is also a separated forum for food pros and even an event calendar where members get together at recommended places or hold special events.

I read dozens of entries in my visit there and can't begin to tell you how valuable this resource is.

I am sad to report I have seen online forums sometimes become slaughterhouses over the years I've spent online (going back to the old newsgroup days). But I am happy to also report that the crowd at LTH has focus and is a tremendously convivial group. At one point tonite there were well over a dozen people logged in. Considering the Homeric restaurant legacy of our city it shouldn't seem strange.

Kudos to those who own and operate - and also to the participants - for an absolutely wonderful location on the net. Go over and take a look for yourself!

Now let's eat!
posted by RW @ 11:13 PM 0 ...at the table links to this post






Public Proposal: The Roundtable Online
I have been passing around this idea to several people in my contact book for a week or so with mixed results, as everyone is trying to plan out their blogging directions for the new year. But since the readership is (slowly) growing and I am noticing return visits on an up-trend I've decided to open the proposal generally and see what develops...

In the heyday of Vanity Fair a group of writers and critics would lunch at the Algonquin Hotel in New York. Most notable of the group in that it often was referred to as her circle was Dorothy Parker.

My modest proposal to interested parties is that each week one member of the eventual group that would become this "Roundtable of Bloggers" - on a scheduled day - would post an article on their blog related directly to a general theme of criticism or appreciation of some aspect of observable cultural phenomenon (some observation of any nature related to that particular members' expertise, or even just a general rant) and, in turn, each other member would - on that same day - make an entry pointing a link to that particular members' commentary.

It isn't any more complex than that and it is really a link-exchange-with-content, and a chance for the involved bloggers to expand their readerships.

I envision participants coming from various disciplines and - ideally - their commentaries would be centered, but certainly not limited to, their sphere of influence: artists about art, writers about books, trout fishermen about fly casting, what have you.

A separate section in our sidebars can also regularly list the membership under what may perhaps be a Roundtable logo - if we can find anyone who can manage that sort of creation.

At any rate - an idea tossed into the cybersphere. There is an email link in the sidebar to the right of this posting. Please use it to contact me with your interest or ideas.

The Roundtable is forming now. There are no limitations as to subject or membership - and of course it is all gratis.

Thanks for your consideration.
posted by RW @ 5:26 AM 0 ...at the table links to this post






Monday, January 02, 2006
Isabella's Estiatorio
So back to the grind again - vacation over and here we go...

And what have we here? Alright I'll admit it, we have a place I've been back to several times. Yet another little suburban gem in an old river town out in Kane County. Isabella's Estiatorio is wisely Greek, a little Italian, a whole lot Mediterranean, and a touch of American just to keep it all together. A salad bowl rather than a melting pot (and more about salads later).

I think there's only something like 15 tables in the main (smokeless) dining room, and only a bare handful in the lounge for smokers; so reservations are largely required. There's little opportunity for a walk in though you may have some luck on a Tuesday. But why risk it? This place is usually packed - which is your first clue...

I know that everyone who looks in on a restaurant review wants to know about the main courses, and I don't blame them. But to get the real value of Isabella's - and what makes her stand out - are these stunning appetizers and salads you start off with. All I can say is - my God what else would you need?

The tzatziki, taramosalata, melitzanosalata, and hummus with fresh made pita wedges is the BMW of the appetizers and, I feel, is also Isabella's signature plate. Meaning when I think of Isabella's this is the first thing to come into mind. And with a glass of champagne for openers I'd say you'd be off to the best start. I have seen a shrimp plate that is as savory that makes occasional appearancess on the menu. If there and available you can't go wrong with that delicacy either.

Being a salad-freak it isn't enough for me to go directly from there to the entree as most would at this point. My top recommend is the simple and wonderful spinach salad. Accompanied by walnuts and red onion (need I say more), shallots, pears and a Point Reyes blue cheese - I am sometimes teased for how I seem to depart from the polite conversation once the greens arrive.

In my opinion the top entree is the lamb - which makes perfect sense considering the Greek foundation of the menu, except that they put a mesquite twist on the proceedings and serve it grilled with braised potatoes and a delightful lemon-oregano vinaigrette. If you tease the staff about mint sauce you will get an explanation about why they wouldn't think of having it anywhere on the premises. I have this from first hand. One guest of ours tried to do just that, all in fun, and we were gently treated to a short, jovial history of the relationship between lamb and mint and what it was originally meant to hide. So be informed - the staff here knows what is going on.

Other top dishes include the pepper crusted filet mignon in a port wine sauce, topped with thyme and accompanied by leeks, baby spinach and a flavorful truffle potato gratin. The olive-brined pork porterhouse is a large serving and fit for the other white meat lover. It comes with a sweet potato gratin, asparagus diamonds and a pear-ginger chutney. The vegetables are authentic and pungent with this dish - so if you are looking for delicate flavors only use another option.

I've gone beyond my time here and not even touched on the wide-ranging wine list or the desserts. There's a list of single-malts and port that are impressive as well, but what better way to top the night but with a shaved white chocolate banana cream pie and coffee. Not that that's what I would do after so many other courses or anything but...

Isabella's gets a warm recommendation. The staff is attentive, if sometimes harried with the crowd, but each table is an island and the setting looks more like a fine boutique hotel than a restaurant on the main street.

Go there.

330 W. State Street
Geneva, Illinois
(630) 845-8624

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posted by RW @ 10:17 AM 0 ...at the table links to this post






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