In another lifetime ago, I was the brash and spunky 23 year old Senior Law Clerk at a law firm in Buffalo, New York. I will refer to them as Fantastic, Super and Awesome, attorneys at law. It was by far one of my favorite places to work and only my fervent need to see the world beyond Buffalo, NY kept me from taking a permanent position there after I graduated.
The head partner at the firm - Mr. Fantastic - was an older gentleman. He looked like someone's grandfather. You were almost willing to bet money that he had a butterscotch in his pocket to hand to you if you were feeling blue. He was also an amazing litigator. He lived 6 months of the year in Sunny Florida and only returned to Buffalo, NY during the summers to litigate as many cases as we could book for trial during that period. When Mr. Fantastic, Esquire was at trial, the whole law firm would shut down so we could all go and watch. Forget Law and Order, Mr. Fantastic was pure Hollywood magic. Skill, finesse and a cut-throat sharpness all wrapped up in a Grandfatherly smile.
Mr. Fantastic was defending a medical malpractice case in court. The plaintiffs had selected what had to have been the worst medical expert ever. I swear someone must have said "Ohhh Aunt Shirley's little boy will be your medical expert for half the price of those big city folks - pick him!" If you are bringing a shotgun case against each and every doctor who has ever treated you in the past 15 years, spend a little money and get a good medical expert witness. You will not regret it.
The plaintiff's medical expert witness was from Kalamazoo, Michigan. He was quite proud that he was not only a medical doctor but also in his 2nd year of law school. However he was awkward and bumbling on the witness stand. He didn't know terms like "legal retainer." He looked like a deer in the headlights. There was nothing in his demeanor that said "expert" and in fact I wondered if the guy even knew how to tie his shoes. I felt sorry for him as he hemmed and hawed and stared at his hands. Plaintiff's counsel just sat there as the witness fell apart under cross-examination. I wanted to smack Plaintiff's counsel in the head. These are the moments when you lose a jury - DO SOMETHING! My law firm represented the defense, so I suppose I should be happy that evidently Plaintiff's counsel was napping during cross. I just hate to see poor legal representation.
When Mr. Fantastic, Esquire gave his closing remarks to the jury, he was better than any legal movie I have ever seen. He knew where to stand, who to look at, how to lower his voice to draw the jurors in closer and then how to EXPAND his voice in a BOOM to make his points. He eviscerated all the answers given by "The ... "expert" ... from Kalamazoo." And after awhile, Mr. Fantastic just reduced the expert witness' name to "Kalamazoo." "Kalamazoo will tell you ... but he's wrong." "Kalamazoo thinks ... but he's wrong." Members of the jury were snickering everytime Mr. Fantastic referred to the hapless expert witness as "Kalamazoo." The expert witness' city of home residence became the final nail in the coffin of his credibility.
The medical malpractice case had been incredibly weak before "Kalamazoo" took the stand. It shouldn't have made it to trial to begin with and the expert witness did not do anything to strengthen the case. The Plaintiffs did not prevail in their action. Mr. Fantastic hit this one out of the park.
Whenever I hear "Kalamazoo" I think of that courtroom and the jurors snickering. I miss Mr. Fantastic - he passed away five years after I graduated. I miss his showmanship, his knowledge, his expertise and his warmth. He was a great man and a great attorney.
Many years later, I am quite far from Buffalo, New York. I, like many of my friends in sunny Tampa, Florida, subscribe to the daily deals at Groupon.com. One day, I received an e-mail advertising a Groupon for Kalamazoo Olive Company in St. Petersburg, Florida. I had never heard of it. I must have been in a manic state, because I didn't check out the store's website. My thought process was merely: "I like olives. I like olives for 1/2 price. I like olives in Bloody Marys. Mmmm... Bloody Marys. I'm buying this Groupon." (Prelude to: "Why I would have more money if internet commerce didn't exist.")
The Groupon for the Kalamazoo Olive Company led a sad little existence, shoved between other papers on my dresser, for months. Then one day, I had to go to downtown St. Pete and the remaining brain cells I have not killed due to excessive Bloody Mary gorging, shouted: "Hey, use that olive Groupon!" Thank you hearty brain cells for remembering!! I grabbed the Groupon and headed to St. Pete.
Kalamazoo Olive Company is on Central Avenue - and it's in what I call "The Danger Zone." No, no - it's not crime-ridden. It is located near The Cupcake Spot and Schakolad Chocolates. For me, my friends, that is a dangerous place to be. I held my breath and sprinted past the chocolate shop and the cupcake shop and ran into Kalamazoo Olive Company. The owner, a lovely man named James Ryan, came over to greet me. He is originally from Kalamazoo, Michigan and so hence the name of his business.
Now when I am shopping my usual reply to "May I help you?" is "NO! JUST LOOKING!" OK, so I try to say it politely and not shout it, but it's a rebuff nevertheless. However, as I gazed at the shiny metal vats all around me, I knew my usual "Just looking" response was not the correct road to take. While the store is referred to as an "olive company" - it is actually a foodie wonderland of balsamic vinegars and infused olive oils. There are also a wide variety of olives and gourmet foodstuffs, but if you're in Kalamazoo (Olive Company, that is) you need to go straight to the balsamic vinegars and olive oils!
I like to imagine myself as a minor league foodie. I have watched every season of Bravo's Top Chef, for heaven's sake! Heh heh. Yet I was educationally unprepared for the culinary vacation, Mr. Ryan was about to take me on. I was rendered mute and drooling at the fantastic array of flavors that Kalamazoo Olive Company offers. I had a flashback to when I was 7 years old and learned that there are far better salad dressing choices that sickly sweet orange "French" dressing. Mr. Ryan took me on a tour of his store, recommending a wide variety of olive oils and balsamic vinegars to try. Prior to this, my only olive oil tasting was at Williams Sonoma and some remote little tourist shop in a village near Tuscany. Both venues knew quite well that a majority of their clientele were foodie wannabes with little real food knowledge. Myself, included. So with that focus, the olive oil tastings I had attended served dry, tasteless country bread that you would use to sop up the oil and therefore "taste" the oil. But what I tasted were oily, dried out, hard stinky socks. That's what "olive oil tasting" meant to me.
At Kalamazoo Olive Company, Mr. Ryan took a small cup and poured in drops of Harissa Olive Oil and then handed it to me to taste. What? My unsophisticated rube self appeared. I'm just supposed to drink the oil? Where's the old stale bread? Seriously? While I may be a rube at heart, I don't like to appear to be a rube. So I snatched the paper cup and threw it back like a shooter. The slightly warm Harissa olive oil coated my tongue with a tingly smoky spice. My taste buds were transported to Morocco. It was delicious. Complex. Spicy with warm notes without being searingly hot. It was very nice and I was already planning recipes to use with it.
Mr. Ryan was like Willy Wonka. He joyously showed me a wide array of pairings of balsamic vinegar and olive oil that excited and delighted better than any Gobstopper. Lime, ginger, basil, Tuscan Herb, Pomegranate, Blood Orange, Cinnamon Pear, Chipotle, Porcini, Truffle, Coconut, Pineapple, White Lemon ... ahhhhhhhh. I drank up every paper cup he handed me without hesitation. Taste explosions! I sampled so many pairings, my head started to spin. Then the shopping commenced. I saw a dark chocolate balsamic vinegar that I knew would be a great gift for foodie friends. So many choices!!
I intended to go in to Kalamazoo Olive Company to buy one or two things. I left with a gigantic box bulging with infused olive oils, balsamic vinegars, olives, honey, gourmet snack treats and inspiration for many, many recipes I would like to make featuring these top notch ingredients. I also ordered a 6 box combo pack of olive oils and balsamic vinegars to be shipped to my friends JB and AB as a thank you gift from a recent weekend stay in their home. The shipping for these glass bottles is quite affordable with Kalamazoo Olive Company.
After my visit, "Kalamazoo" no longer means "ridiculously inept medical expert witness." It now means "Culinary heaven." Thank you Kalamazoo Olive Company for reclaiming your city's good name in my memory.
If you're in St. Petersburg, Florida, do take the time to check out Kalamazoo Olive Company. Your inner foodie will thank you immensely. And if you're not in St. Pete, check out their website - they do mail orders as well.
The head partner at the firm - Mr. Fantastic - was an older gentleman. He looked like someone's grandfather. You were almost willing to bet money that he had a butterscotch in his pocket to hand to you if you were feeling blue. He was also an amazing litigator. He lived 6 months of the year in Sunny Florida and only returned to Buffalo, NY during the summers to litigate as many cases as we could book for trial during that period. When Mr. Fantastic, Esquire was at trial, the whole law firm would shut down so we could all go and watch. Forget Law and Order, Mr. Fantastic was pure Hollywood magic. Skill, finesse and a cut-throat sharpness all wrapped up in a Grandfatherly smile.
Mr. Fantastic was defending a medical malpractice case in court. The plaintiffs had selected what had to have been the worst medical expert ever. I swear someone must have said "Ohhh Aunt Shirley's little boy will be your medical expert for half the price of those big city folks - pick him!" If you are bringing a shotgun case against each and every doctor who has ever treated you in the past 15 years, spend a little money and get a good medical expert witness. You will not regret it.
The plaintiff's medical expert witness was from Kalamazoo, Michigan. He was quite proud that he was not only a medical doctor but also in his 2nd year of law school. However he was awkward and bumbling on the witness stand. He didn't know terms like "legal retainer." He looked like a deer in the headlights. There was nothing in his demeanor that said "expert" and in fact I wondered if the guy even knew how to tie his shoes. I felt sorry for him as he hemmed and hawed and stared at his hands. Plaintiff's counsel just sat there as the witness fell apart under cross-examination. I wanted to smack Plaintiff's counsel in the head. These are the moments when you lose a jury - DO SOMETHING! My law firm represented the defense, so I suppose I should be happy that evidently Plaintiff's counsel was napping during cross. I just hate to see poor legal representation.
When Mr. Fantastic, Esquire gave his closing remarks to the jury, he was better than any legal movie I have ever seen. He knew where to stand, who to look at, how to lower his voice to draw the jurors in closer and then how to EXPAND his voice in a BOOM to make his points. He eviscerated all the answers given by "The ... "expert" ... from Kalamazoo." And after awhile, Mr. Fantastic just reduced the expert witness' name to "Kalamazoo." "Kalamazoo will tell you ... but he's wrong." "Kalamazoo thinks ... but he's wrong." Members of the jury were snickering everytime Mr. Fantastic referred to the hapless expert witness as "Kalamazoo." The expert witness' city of home residence became the final nail in the coffin of his credibility.
The medical malpractice case had been incredibly weak before "Kalamazoo" took the stand. It shouldn't have made it to trial to begin with and the expert witness did not do anything to strengthen the case. The Plaintiffs did not prevail in their action. Mr. Fantastic hit this one out of the park.
Whenever I hear "Kalamazoo" I think of that courtroom and the jurors snickering. I miss Mr. Fantastic - he passed away five years after I graduated. I miss his showmanship, his knowledge, his expertise and his warmth. He was a great man and a great attorney.
Many years later, I am quite far from Buffalo, New York. I, like many of my friends in sunny Tampa, Florida, subscribe to the daily deals at Groupon.com. One day, I received an e-mail advertising a Groupon for Kalamazoo Olive Company in St. Petersburg, Florida. I had never heard of it. I must have been in a manic state, because I didn't check out the store's website. My thought process was merely: "I like olives. I like olives for 1/2 price. I like olives in Bloody Marys. Mmmm... Bloody Marys. I'm buying this Groupon." (Prelude to: "Why I would have more money if internet commerce didn't exist.")
The Groupon for the Kalamazoo Olive Company led a sad little existence, shoved between other papers on my dresser, for months. Then one day, I had to go to downtown St. Pete and the remaining brain cells I have not killed due to excessive Bloody Mary gorging, shouted: "Hey, use that olive Groupon!" Thank you hearty brain cells for remembering!! I grabbed the Groupon and headed to St. Pete.
Kalamazoo Olive Company is on Central Avenue - and it's in what I call "The Danger Zone." No, no - it's not crime-ridden. It is located near The Cupcake Spot and Schakolad Chocolates. For me, my friends, that is a dangerous place to be. I held my breath and sprinted past the chocolate shop and the cupcake shop and ran into Kalamazoo Olive Company. The owner, a lovely man named James Ryan, came over to greet me. He is originally from Kalamazoo, Michigan and so hence the name of his business.
Now when I am shopping my usual reply to "May I help you?" is "NO! JUST LOOKING!" OK, so I try to say it politely and not shout it, but it's a rebuff nevertheless. However, as I gazed at the shiny metal vats all around me, I knew my usual "Just looking" response was not the correct road to take. While the store is referred to as an "olive company" - it is actually a foodie wonderland of balsamic vinegars and infused olive oils. There are also a wide variety of olives and gourmet foodstuffs, but if you're in Kalamazoo (Olive Company, that is) you need to go straight to the balsamic vinegars and olive oils!
I like to imagine myself as a minor league foodie. I have watched every season of Bravo's Top Chef, for heaven's sake! Heh heh. Yet I was educationally unprepared for the culinary vacation, Mr. Ryan was about to take me on. I was rendered mute and drooling at the fantastic array of flavors that Kalamazoo Olive Company offers. I had a flashback to when I was 7 years old and learned that there are far better salad dressing choices that sickly sweet orange "French" dressing. Mr. Ryan took me on a tour of his store, recommending a wide variety of olive oils and balsamic vinegars to try. Prior to this, my only olive oil tasting was at Williams Sonoma and some remote little tourist shop in a village near Tuscany. Both venues knew quite well that a majority of their clientele were foodie wannabes with little real food knowledge. Myself, included. So with that focus, the olive oil tastings I had attended served dry, tasteless country bread that you would use to sop up the oil and therefore "taste" the oil. But what I tasted were oily, dried out, hard stinky socks. That's what "olive oil tasting" meant to me.
At Kalamazoo Olive Company, Mr. Ryan took a small cup and poured in drops of Harissa Olive Oil and then handed it to me to taste. What? My unsophisticated rube self appeared. I'm just supposed to drink the oil? Where's the old stale bread? Seriously? While I may be a rube at heart, I don't like to appear to be a rube. So I snatched the paper cup and threw it back like a shooter. The slightly warm Harissa olive oil coated my tongue with a tingly smoky spice. My taste buds were transported to Morocco. It was delicious. Complex. Spicy with warm notes without being searingly hot. It was very nice and I was already planning recipes to use with it.
Mr. Ryan was like Willy Wonka. He joyously showed me a wide array of pairings of balsamic vinegar and olive oil that excited and delighted better than any Gobstopper. Lime, ginger, basil, Tuscan Herb, Pomegranate, Blood Orange, Cinnamon Pear, Chipotle, Porcini, Truffle, Coconut, Pineapple, White Lemon ... ahhhhhhhh. I drank up every paper cup he handed me without hesitation. Taste explosions! I sampled so many pairings, my head started to spin. Then the shopping commenced. I saw a dark chocolate balsamic vinegar that I knew would be a great gift for foodie friends. So many choices!!
I intended to go in to Kalamazoo Olive Company to buy one or two things. I left with a gigantic box bulging with infused olive oils, balsamic vinegars, olives, honey, gourmet snack treats and inspiration for many, many recipes I would like to make featuring these top notch ingredients. I also ordered a 6 box combo pack of olive oils and balsamic vinegars to be shipped to my friends JB and AB as a thank you gift from a recent weekend stay in their home. The shipping for these glass bottles is quite affordable with Kalamazoo Olive Company.
After my visit, "Kalamazoo" no longer means "ridiculously inept medical expert witness." It now means "Culinary heaven." Thank you Kalamazoo Olive Company for reclaiming your city's good name in my memory.
If you're in St. Petersburg, Florida, do take the time to check out Kalamazoo Olive Company. Your inner foodie will thank you immensely. And if you're not in St. Pete, check out their website - they do mail orders as well.
I was at the Hyde Park (Tampa, FL) open-air market (first Sunday of every month) and Kalamazoo Olive Company had a booth there. Unfortunately they did not have my harissa olive oil at the booth - have to get it at their store. Mr. Ryan, the Owner, told me to get to the store soon because they don't sell harissa olive oil in the summer. So consider yourself warned - the harissa olive oil is my absolute favorite! Mr. Ryan said that one review of their olive oil referred to him as Willy Wonka. I just smiled and didn't tell him I was the blogger. It reminded me of the scene in "When Harry Met Sally" when Bruno Kirby said "No one has ever quoted me back to me before." Absolute compliment!
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