Seriously. Granville Moore’s makes the best moules ever…
I went (again) last night with TF and had (what else?) the Moules Fromage Bleu: bacon, Hook’s blue cheese, shallots, spinach, white wine, and lemon juice. TF tried the Moules Biere which was mussels with roasted garlic and fennel, artichokes, bacon, Allagash White… beer from Maine. Of course that’s what he had.
Oh, and the frites… per usual, they were crunchy/delicious… especially with the chipotle mayo and horseradish sauces…
I seriously think I’m ready to declare that mussels are my favorite food. Ok, that’s a lie. As soon as I typed that I thought of five other things I love… but it’s definitely top ten.
I’m at the beach right now – trying to soak up the sun because my parents rented the place out for the remainder of July – and I’ve been slowly catching up with necessary reading.
You know necessary reading, don’t you? It’s the stuff that slowly builds and builds until you have a stack of books and magazines next to your bed that is taller than you are. If you’re like me, you have every good intention of reading it… but things just get in the way. Things like work, life, The Bachelorette…
Anyway, I was reading this weekend’s New York Times magazine, found a Q&A with Jeff Tweedy from Wilco, and found myself falling even more in love with Tweedy. For example:
How would you describe your singing voice, in general?
Somewhere between Gordon Lightfoot and a tea kettle. I would not get past the first round of “American Idol.”
Exactly. I loathe American Idol – sorry DF but you already know this is true – so that’s like the best answer I could have read.
For more Jeff Tweedy reading, there’s an interesting article in the July 1 issues of NYTimes… check it out, if you haven’t already.
I know I’m probably the second-to-last person in DC to blog this, but I can’t help it. It’s hysterical and totally right on. It more than explains why I will never, ever, EVER live in NOVA. EVER. Because, you might have noticed, I’m not a fan.
Also, I have many friends that used to live in DC that don’t any more… so maybe they weren’t forwarded it 18 times like I was. And with that said, DC-resident Not-So-Quiet-Desperation probably hasn’t seen it either, so really I’m just doing some public service.
Enjoy:
* P.S. For all you non-DCers: NOVA is code for “Northern Virginia,” which is code for “fake Virginia,” which is code for “craptastic.” Don’t ever move there. And, also, living in NOVA is not, in fact, living in DC. Sorry.
President Barack Obama and his family plan to vacation next month on Martha’s Vineyard, Democratic sources said.
The trip has long been rumored on the island, where federal agents were reported to be checking out property last spring.
The plan puts the Obamas in one of America’s most diverse resort areas. The enclave of Oaks Bluff has long been a favorite vacation spot for the nation’s African-American elite.
The Vineyard was a favorite vacation spot of President Bill Clinton and his wife, Hillary, now Obama’s secretary of state.
An article about the Vineyard in New York magazine reported: “In the past, Obama has spent time playing golf with Vernon Jordan, swimming off South Beach, playing basketball … reading and watching the ferries, and taking the girls for ice cream on Circuit Avenue.”
Dang. Too bad we visit the Vineyard during thanksgiving. I wonder where the Obama’s will stay? Historically African-American Oak Bluffs? The Clinton home in Chilmark? My friend JT tells me this is where they’re staying, but I don’t yet know how he knows this, so I’ll call it a rumor.**
UPDATE: ** JT is so not funny. That’s where his family is staying, not the Obamas. And I believed him. Ass hat!
With all the dinning out, blogging about dinning out, and photographing of food I partake in, you’d think I’d have a grasp on how to take pictures of food whilst dining… the polite way. I always want to take pictures of particularly yummy or visually pleasing meals, but it always seems so obnoxious. A photographer I am not.
I’m one of those people who always whips out a camera when I eat out for possible blogging purposes (besides that I’ll forget what I’ve done if I don’t take photos—food-related or not)… One part of me thinks, “I hope I’m not annoying other people too much,” while the other part thinks, “Oh god, I just need one good shot of this burger…no, that was bad, I need another [moves the burger]…and another [moves the burger]…”
I usually let this fear of annoying other people prevent me from taking the picture at all. Or I rush to take it, and then they suck and I end up deleting them.
First, don’t take multiple shots from multiple angles, kneel on the banquette, or rearrange the table. Jeffrey Porter, cowriter of the blog Drink Eat Love, says he limits himself to “four or five shots.” Besides creating an unnecessary disturbance, your dinner might get cold. At Alinea, one dish, called Hot Potato Cold Potato, has contrasting temperatures. By the time a diner has snapped the dish from every angle, it might as well be called “lukewarm potato.”
Forgo the flash, as Chowhounds advise. At Alinea, when diners have complained about other parties’ obsessive photography, it’s the flash that has bothered them. (Also, says Dang, it washes out the food.)
Finally, know when to put the camera away. On some occasions, your focus shouldn’t be on your plate—like on a special date, for instance. It’s not very romantic if one of you is obviously using the excursion as a way to get new fodder for a blog.
Word. Though to be honest, I think I’ll just stick to going on flickr to search out the pictures of others. Who me? Passive aggressive?
I dunno, but they certainly had me at Polipetti Carbonizza (charred octopus) + Reese + Jake. Just sayin’.
No joke – the DC bloggers did their due diligence and blogged about this restaurant with such intense detail that I felt left-out for not having visited it yet.
Papardelle di Cinghiale, at Potenza
And so we will dine at Potenza. Tomorrow night. I’m excited not only for the restaurant and the wine, but also to see AS who I haven’t seen since our last group dinner. JT… I saw three Red Sox games with him, so it’s not as exciting.
Remember the friend I told you about in a previous post? Well, DF is more than a fan of Janet Jackson. He loves her more than he loves me, but just marginally… right D? But for serious, the stories I could tell you about DF and his Janet-love would fill up an entire book. Maybe one day, when DF gives me his permission, I’ll blog about it here. Until then, just take my word – the boy loves his Janet.
So much so, that when I originally learned that Michael Jackson had died, my first text was to DF – asking if Janet was ok. This is how we do.
Obviously DF has his own favorite Michael Jackson memory, so when he shared it with me, I asked him if it was ok for me to share it with you… it is, after all, one of my favorite memories too.
My favorite MJ moment has to be the “Scream” video. Michael and Janet take on the haters. Disgusted by all the injustice, as only the Jacksons can be.
Killer choreography? Check. (particularly at the 3:17 point).
When I was in fifth or sixth grade, I couldn’t get enough of Guns N’ Roses.
I blame my friend, AV, for getting me hooked. I have memories of us cross stitching in our art class – yes, cross stitching was a unit of our art class – singing various GNR songs to the horror of our art teacher. Poor Mrs. Ridgley – I think she still has yet to recover. AV was in love with Axl, and probably still is today, while I was obsessed with Slash. I found him very sexy/ugly, before I even had the knowledge to know that’s how I felt. His hair, the guitar, the hidden face, bad-ass leather pants. OMG. Yes. Please. All of it.
Apparently I haven’t quite grown out of that phase yet.
Anyway, what does this have to do with Michael Jackson? EVERYTHING. Because in 1995 when they performed together on the MTV VMAs, I was like a kid in the candy store. It was everything I loved in one 5 minute performance. The songs, the dancing, the guitar, the lights, the smoke, their silhouettes, the collaboration. Everything. Enjoy:
Tivo would have been key to my teenage years in 1995, though I’m sure my parents are grateful it wasn’t available yet. Even if it was available, we wouldn’t have had it. We didn’t even have a VCR until the year before I left for college. Technologically savvy we were not.
Shingle out front, originally uploaded by cizauskas.
