Millet, Quinoa, Latin American Men and A Lot of Self-Doubt

I like tall men with quick wit, warm hearts and olive skin.  Is that too much to ask for?  So when I was asked out by a 6’3” Latin American student of Eastern Medicine, whom I will call Franz; I said “YES!”

I met Franz at a delightful little Indian restaurant in the Clearwater/Largo area.  When we walked in, a woman who I assume is somewhat mentally challenged, yelled out from her table:  “The goat curry has GOAT!  The fish vindaloo has FISH!”  I have never been the model of social grace and decorum, so I immediately began laughing at this woman’s truth.  “Never a truer word has been spoken,” I whispered to Franz during my inappropriate hysterical snickering.

Franz is a very handsome man.  Thick hair, olive weathered skin that brings to mind a life spent outdoors, enjoying every single moment.  Cute, adorable smile.  He was simply dressed and had the quiet demeanor of an Eastern monk.  I stared at him and tried to ascertain whether there was a steamy, smoldering font of lusty passion inside him or whether he was just a cold fish.  I couldn’t tell.  My powers of intuition tend to fail when trying to figure out men.

The Indian restaurant was having a buffet for Sunday lunch.  Everything looked great.  And yes, the goat curry had goat and the fish vindaloo had fish in it.  I gravitated to my usual favorites: butter chicken, chana masala, raita, naan and rice.  There was also a vegetable dish with peas and carrots that called out to me.  Each dish was perfectly spiced, fragrant smelling and delicious.  I definitely would like to visit this restaurant again.  It is so hard to find really good Indian food in the Tampa Bay area. 

Franz is not a spicy food eater, which was odd since he suggested the Indian restaurant.  Given his bland appetite, he should have taken me to “Uncle Louie’s House of Bland Foods.”  Within three forkfuls of the Indian buffet, Franz had completely broken out in a gushing sweat from every single pore on his face.  As the spices were causing a nasal reaction in me, I hoped that if I ignored Franz’s sweaty face that he in turn would ignore my constant nose wiping.  Isn’t that how it works, socially?  I hope!  Eventually Franz ran to the restroom to wipe down his face.  I loved the food, but it did not make for the most appealing first date bodily effects!

Being half-Asian, having traveled to Asia many times and having a friend who recently used acupuncture instead of drugs while giving birth to her first son; I was very curious to hear about Franz’s Eastern Medicine studies.  Perhaps his sweaty brow was less from the spicy Indian food and more from my interrogation style of questioning?  Hmmm….

Franz divulged his personal history and personal philosophy of life over a second plate of Indian food.  Franz did not drink alcohol.  He viewed his body as a temple and only ate healthy food.  He sang the virtues of millet and quinoa.  I stared at him and wondered how such a tiny word like “millet” could suck all the sexuality out of me.

My life is a series of pendulum swings – sometimes I am reclusive and introverted.  Sometimes I am ferociously manic and social, as if I were dying tomorrow.  My life spins in cycles … the moon, the tides and my level of personal insanity ebb and flow.  I have been riding a particularly manic social crescent lately.  I’ve been drinking more, going out more and just plain doing more than usual.  However being a person who lives in cycles, I don’t question any particular cycle that I happen to be in because I know eventually I will be at the polar opposite of the current cycle I am in.  That’s just me.  No need to question.

So here I am, in a more boozy, floozy, social cycle sitting across from a tall, handsome, Zen Monk-demeanor guy who is extolling the virtues of millet and quinoa.  And the first thing my catty, bitchy brain can think of is: “Oh yeah?  If you eat so healthy, why do you have a beer belly?”  And the second thing I think of is: “Doesn’t drink?  Solitary man?  This guy may be too wholesome and healthy for the likes of someone like me.”  Third thought in my head: “Ohhh I’m way too polluted for this, the timetable for the next emotional cycle may need to accelerate… NOW.  NOW.  NOW!”

I have a ridiculously large ego for someone who on occasion has the self-esteem of a slug.  Sitting across from Franz, thinking that this man may actually be too healthy and too together to date me was not a comfortable feeling for me.  Usually my commitment-phobic brain is calling out all the faults in a new date, but instead my traitor brain was listing out all my snarly flaws!  Ugh.  Stop that!

After lunch, Franz and I went for a long walk.  I was wearing 4 inch wedge platforms.  I loved that Franz was still taller than me in my huge heels!  Franz and I discussed more of Eastern medicine and then perhaps in a sabotaging move, I asked a question that should not be asked on a first date.  “So, what are your political views?”

Franz said that he was a combination of liberal and fascist.

Whaaaat?

Liberal and fascist.

Now seriously, I should have just changed the conversation topic at this point.  I knew the politics question was a bad one and now I could feel myself already sinking in the quicksand of his response.  But I’m ever so curious … too curious for my own good.  And so I asked “Um, could you explain that a little more?”

Franz thought that the government should put a sterilizing agent in the public water supply.  If you want to have children, you would need to apply for a license and if approved, you’d get a temporary antidote to the sterilizing agent.  Franz then continued about how we have the technology to painlessly and temporarily sterilize everyone in the world, right now and that this is a plan that should be put in action!

As I was 6’1” in my platform heels, my jaw had a long way to go as it hit the concrete sidewalk.

My eyes must have bugged out of my head, because Franz quickly had this ashen look of “Uh oh, said too much” and tried to reel in his tongue. 

Everyone is entitled to their opinion, but I seriously felt my uterus scream as Franz talked about forced public sterilization.

The remainder of the conversation was a futile attempt to seem normal after a bomb had gone off.  My brain was reeling and Franz was embarrassed and a promising first date went right off the rails.

After another 15 minutes, I received a text from my friend LM cancelling our plans that night.  LM had returned from a cruise the night before and unfortunately, for her, the Earth was still rocking like a wayward boat.  I lied to Franz and said LM had asked to meet earlier and I had to go.  I’m sorry Franz, I lied.  (But I have no regrets!)

I gave Franz a hug goodbye and he squeezed my butt.  Seriously?  Millet, quinoa, forced sterilization and an ass grab?  Franz, I underestimated you entirely!

It was my first and only date with Franz.  We had exchanged some texts and emails afterward, but we could not rebuild after the bomb blast of Franz’s political views.  The goat curry has GOAT.  The fish vindaloo has FISH.  And this date has NO SECOND DATE.

I breathed a sigh of relief that I did not have to do a lot of soul-searching on whether Franz was too wholesome to date me.  His political views erased the need for that mental calculus all together!  Back to the dating pool for Franz.  Back to the dating pool for me.

P.S.  I had originally wanted to combine this blog post with my review of the Indian restaurant, but I did not want to link the name of a great Indian restaurant with a post on forced public sterilization.  So if you’re looking for a good Indian restaurant in the Clearwater/Largo area, email me at LilyOnTheLam@gmail.com and I’d be happy to share the name of the great restaurant! 

Italian Gelato for Italy Lovers: Paciugo Gelato and Caffe, St. Petersburg Florida

There is just something about Italy.  I don't know if it's the art, the architecture, the pizza rustica or just the plain old lust of life in the air; but I love Italy.  I have been there many times and each time has been a love affair with the food.  One Italian treat I cannot get enough of is good quality gelato.  It claims to have less fat than traditional American ice cream, so I like to pretend its a diet dessert.  (Hello denial!)   


If you are a gelato fan - whether you love Italy, are a Jersey Shore guido or guidette or just like desserts; get yourself to Paciugo Gelato and Caffe.


I was headed to the Chihuly Collection at the Morean Arts Center in St. Pete when I walked right past Paciugo.  Like a gravitational pull, I felt myself being drawn into the cute little gelato shop.  So many gelato flavors, so little time...  I had to have some!


I finally settled on a 3 flavor cup- Pannacotta, Mediterranean sea salt caramel and tiramisu.

The Pannacotta flavor was my absolute favorite.  The sea salt caramel was good as well.  However the tiramisu was way too boozy for my tastes.  It was the perfect snack before going to see the gorgeous glass exhibition of Chihuly works at the Morean Arts Center. 


I would definitely recommend trying Paciugo in St. Petersburg, Florida!

Return to Duval's Restaurant: Sarasota, Florida

Update Nov 2011:  Duval's New World Cafe in downtown Sarasota is now open and the Duval's Restaurant on Tamiami is now closed.  Check their website at this link.  Also check out my November 2011 review of Duval's New World Cafe, by clicking here. 


I started "Lily on the Lam" in December 2010.  Of all the posts I have written since then, by far the most popular blog post I have written is a review of Duval's Restaurant in Sarasota, Florida.  This post has been read 900% more times than the 2nd most popular post.  A factoid that completely astonishes me!  (2nd most popular blog post - my cooking class with Top Chef Masters Winner Floyd Cardoz.  Although my post for Ciro's Speakeasy and my recipe for Nutter Butter Cheesecake Truffle Balls are dangerously close to taking Floyd's spot.  Time to call all Floyd Cardoz fans to rally!)


I decided that I needed to return to Duval's and see if the same old magic was still there.  The timing of my visit was quite fortuitous because I learned from my server (who was bedazzled with tattoos of cupcakes and candy corn) that Duval's was going to be opening a new restaurant in downtown Sarasota.  I have heard that Duval's will eventually close their current location sometime after the downtown restaurant opens.  However, that seems to just be rumor and speculation so far - so don't count on me for the reliability of that story!


The new location is going to be called Duval's New World Cafe.  The menu has been reported to include some convenience items for faster service for the downtown patrons "on the go."  I have heard that the soft opening for Duval's New World Cafe will be in late October.  Guess I'll have to make another trip to Sarasota soon!  The website for Duval's New World Cafe can be accessed by clicking this link.


But before Duval's New World Cafe opens, let me tell you about my lunch at Duval's Restaurant.  If you have read my previous blog post on Duval's, you'll know that I am a big fan of their New Orleans-style cuisine.  I was first introduced to Duval's several years during a particularly bad first date.  While it would prove to be my first and only date with this man.  (The world's worst kisser -- he basically covered my entire face in saliva!)  It definitely would not be my only visit to Duval's.  I have been back there many times and have taken many friends and family there.  Duval's food is incredible and is worth going back to again and again.


On one occasion, I was having lunch at Duval's while the owner Cici was working.  I had my purse sitting on the floor underneath the table.  Cici asked me if I would mind if she moved my purse to the chair instead of the table.  Evidently there is a custom/superstition that if you put a purse on the floor, you'll have bad luck with money.  Putting the purse on the chair allows for "money to jump into it."  I'm still waiting on my cash windfall, but it is the kitschy, charming tales like this that lend more hominess and charm to Duval's Restaurant.


On this particular day, I started my lunch with their soup of the day: a butternut squash soup.  It was a warm, comforting hug in a mug.  It was served lava hot with a crouton.  The temperature was the only thing that kept me from downing this delicious goodness like a shot.  Scrumptious deliciousness!

   


If this was an episode of Bravo TV's "Top Chef" and the challenge was to make a dish that had all the emotional and culinary feel of Thanksgiving, Duval's butternut squash soup would win hands down.  Emotionally, it was warm, homey and unpretentious.  Taste-wise, it was perfect.  Just the right seasonings and mouthfeel.  I know I overuse this word on my blog, but it was just yummy.  If you need a hug from the inside, try this delicious soup.  It really needs to be a standard on Duval's menu.  It is that hearty and delicious.


One of my major issues with going to Duval's is that I have a difficult time ordering new things, because I am the #1 fan of their shrimp and crab cake, their flash-fried calamari and their Napa salad.  The salad is a marvel - garlic, pesto, crunchy Napa cabbage.  It is tart and tangy and plays well with the moist, hearty shrimp and crab cake.  (Try their Po' Boys too-- they are incredible!) 


I know I wrote about the shrimp and crab cake and the calamari in my previous blog post on Duval's Restaurant, so in this post I want to show you step by step with photos- Mr. Bad Kisser's method for eating the shrimp and crab cake.  I actually think Mr. Bad Kisser was taught this method of eating the combination by Owner CiCi.  So I am giving misplaced credit here, but I just love saying "Instructions by Mr. Bad Kisser."


Here we go ... 


Step One: Learn how to kiss properly.  (OK OK, you can skip this step if you must - but your significant other may disagree!)


Step Two:  Order the shrimp and crab cake, the calamari and a small Napa salad.  It will arrive with three dipping sauces and some toast point/croutons.

Step Three: Take a toast point/crouton and spread a generous layer of remoulade sauce on it.  (Side note: one of my favorite cafes in New Orleans?  Remoulade!) 

In case you're not sure which of the three dipping sauces is the remoulade sauce, it's the orangish colored one, seen here below.

This is what I call a "generous layer" of remoulade sauce on my crouton.

Step Four:  Take a spoon full of Napa cabbage salad and place it on top of your remoulade sauce covered crouton.

Step Five:  Place a large forkful of shrimp and crab cake on top of the Napa salad. 

Step Six:  Take a bite and enjoy!


Step Seven:  If you plan on kissing afterward, get a breath mint because the Napa salad is chock full of garlic goodness!


While I absolutely loved the butternut squash soup, it was incredibly hearty and I had no room for my traditional dessert at Duval's - their bread pudding made out of danishes.  Which is a tragedy!  But Duval's, being ever so wonderful, served me a Key Lime pie square with my check.  Just the right size of sweet to end my hearty meal.

   

I was so full from the butternut squash soup that my tattooed server dished the rest of my Napa salad and calamari into two separate to-go containers.  (Don't want soggy calamari!)  I was so intoxicated with the wonderful New Orleans-style cuisine that I walked out of the restaurant, leaving the to-go containers at the table.  I walked around to the side lot, got into my car and was looking for my sunglasses when I heard a tap on the window.  My server had spotted the to-go containers and had found me in the side parking lot to give me my leftovers.  Total A+ for customer service!  I was glad I left her a good tip before I left the restaurant!

I am eager to try Duval's New World Cafe when it opens, but until then - get yourself to Duval's Restaurant in Sarasota, Florida.  More information can be found in my previous blog post on Duval's Restaurant.  Check it out.  You will not be disappointed!

Update Nov 2011:  Duval's New World Cafe in downtown Sarasota is now open and the Duval's Restaurant on Tamiami is now closed.  Check their website at this link.  Also check out my November 2011 review of Duval's New World Cafe, by clicking here. 

Timpano - what happened to you?

I was having lunch with internationally reknown lunch buddy JWS in Hyde Park (Tampa), Florida.  JWS and I frequent J. Alexander's with almost clockwork regularity.  On this particular day, we decided to go back to a former favorite restaurant, Timpano Chop House.  I was excited for our change in lunch venue because Timpano has my ultimate favorite version of a wedge salad - an iceberg lettuce wedge sprinkled with tomatoes, red onions and blue cheese crumbles.  Then instead of a thick blue cheese dressing, Timpano uses a red wine vinaigrette.  The combination of blue cheese crumbles and red wine vinaigrette makes a lighter but still rich tasting dressing for the wedge.


I arrived at Timpano before JWS and I was not a happy camper to see that the menu had changed since I had last been there.  The Italian Wedding Soup - which is fantastic - is no longer on the lunch menu.  It has been relegated to the dinner menu.  Come on!  Is it so difficult to have Italian Wedding Soup on the lunch menu??  I decided to get the clam chowder - which was no longer on the menu but was the soup of the day.  In the past, I have practically purred over Timpano's clam chowder.  It is a rich, luxurious, smoky creamy delight.  It is absolutely, 100% amazing.  Or at least, it was.  (That's foreshadowing, people!)


JWS arrived and she was equally dismayed at the menu change.  She ordered the wedge salad and then asked if the chef could recreate a pasta dish that was on the old menu - angel hair with chopped tomatoes.  I ordered a cup of the clam chowder and then decided to try something new.  I ordered the BLT salad - bacon, tomatoes and arugula with blackened chicken.


The clam chowder and the wedge salad arrived first.  JWS and I could tell upon first look that these items were not the same as we had had in the past.

The clam chowder I had had at Timpano in the past was smooth, silky and creamy.  The new Timpano clam chowder was thick and flour pasty-tasting.  Gooey and starchy.  Large chunks of overcooked potatoes and I don't think there was a single clam.  I have had discount supermarket canned clam chowder that tasted better than this.  (On a side note, one of my favorite clam chowder recipes to make is from Walt Disney World.  I like to serve it in a hollowed out sourdough bread bowl from Panera Bread that has been brushed with garlic butter and toasted in the oven.  Hello delicious goodness!)


JWS' wedge salad was unappealing the minute it hit the table.  It wasn't a nice tight iceberg lettuce wedge but a pile of floppy leaves.  JWS doesn't care for tomatoes, so she requested "no tomatoes" - but I guess the kitchen staff also decided to leave out the red onion as well.

There was an orangish gloppy dressing dabbed all over the wedge.  What happened to the red wine vinaigrette advertised on the menu?  JWS was not happy with the salad.  I was crazy happy that I did not order the wedge as I had originally planned.


Next up was my BLT salad.  When I read the description, I envisioned a chopped salad and I requested blackened chicken on top and the dijon vinaigrette on the side.  What arrived at my table was more accurately called a deconstructed chicken club sandwich.

It was delicious, but it was not what I was expecting at all.  I wish the description of the "salad" would have more accurately prepared me for what I was going to get.  I wanted a big salad not a deconstructed sandwich plate.  (And hello - I ordered a salad to stay away from carbs.  What's up with those big planks of dried out bread?)   


JWS' special request to recreate a former pasta dish no longer on the menu failed miserably.  All she wanted was angel hair pasta with chopped tomatoes.  What arrived was a gooey, messy pile of overcooked looking pasta.  I didn't even bother to take a picture of it.  It looked so sad! 


While I'm not going to write off Timpano (their cocktail menu alone is reason to go there), I doubt JWS and I will be doing lunch there again any time soon.  We're coming back to you, J. Alexander's!




     

New Product Wednesday: Claus Porto Banho Citron Verbena Bath Soap

A lifetime ago, my friend BKJ and I spent part of a summer backpacking around Western Europe.  We had a copy of Let's Go: Europe - Harvard Students' Budget Travel Guide.  BKJ and I did not attend Harvard, but we were more than happy to sponge off of Harvard Students knowledge.  BKJ and I had no set itinerary.  We decided that we would let fate decide where we were headed.  We would walk into a train station and see what trains were leaving next and that's where we were going.   


Using this technique, we found ourselves in Germany, staring at a destination timetable board with a train leaving for Lisboa.  I looked at BKJ and in my best American public school educated voice said "Um, I think that's in Portugal.  I think Portugal borders the ocean."  Well bing bing, thank my Honors Social Studies classes - Portugal is indeed on the ocean.  Well done, Lily!


So BKJ and I figured that was good enough for us and we boarded the train.  I grabbed the mini phonebook sized "Let's Go: Europe" and turned to the Portugal chapter.  I kid you not when the opening line said "Two women traveling alone to Portugal means they are looking for sexual excitement."  I had read this out loud to BKJ and we screamed in unison.  Was it too late to get off this train?  Were the fine students at Harvard jerking us around? 


After a very long train ride between Germany and Portugal, we arrived in Lisboa (a.k.a. Lisbon) on a cloudy Sunday morning.  I can say that in all my years on this planet, I have never been groped as much as I have during 9 hours in Lisbon, Portugal.  (And trust me, my friends, I have been to many a party city and I am well-known for being gropeable ... just ask anyone who knows me ... anyone I have pre-paid $10 to say I am extremely gropeable...)  BKJ and I fled Lisbon the same day we arrived.  It took us longer to get to Portugal than we actually spent in Portugal.  BKJ has bright blond hair and she was basically a spotlight beacon telling all horny Portugese men "Crazy American women here!  Come grope them!"


After such a fervent day of being groped, I wanted to take a long, hot shower ... which brings me to today's "New Product Wednesday" feature.  Now if you're a loyal Lily on the Lam reader (and really, why wouldn't you be?), you should remember my Shop Here Now! blog post on Cleanse Apothecary in Seminole Heights.  One of the products I purchased at the fabulous Cleanse Apothecary is Claus Porto Banho soap - Portugese soap - in a citron verbena scent. 

By the way, are you digging my soap photo styling?  Yes, at Lily on the Lam, I take soap and stick an Egyptian cat and an Asian dragon in the picture - because that's what I do.  That's who I am.  And that's how I take pictures of soap.  (FYI - I've been re-reading Chuck Palahniuk's novel Fight Club because I am Marla Singer and Chuck, you owe me some royalties.  Ha ha-- maybe, I'm joking, maybe.)


While I am not a fan of crazed Portugese groping by strange men, I do enjoy this Portugese soap.  I do wish the citron verbena scent was stronger though.  I loves me a generous dose of lemon verbena.  The soap is clean-rinsing, makes my skin feel soft and I like to stand in the shower and just sniff the bar.  Wait, I might have said too much there.


Get yourself over to Cleanse Apothecary and check out this soap.  They have a wide variety of Claus Porto soaps, including one that supposedly smells like an illegal in America plant ... so if you like smelling like marijuana, get yourself some of that particular variety of soap.  Just ask the good people at Cleanse Apothecary, they'll know which scent I am talking about.

Self-Destructive Behaviors: Ruby Tuesday

As a general rule, I prefer to frequent non-chain restaurants when dining out.  That's not to say that I don't enjoy some chain restaurants ... Roy's, Ocean Prime, Capital Grille, Aquaknox, J. Alexanders ... and that's just off the top of my head!  Plus they don't have to be high end chains, no one can beat a good omelet and hash browns from Village Inn (and the PIE!)


But as a general rule, I like non-corporate restaurants.  Last week, I think I was feeling particularly self-destructive.  I was under the weather, having some annoying spat with an even more annoying person (you know who you are, Snippy McAlcoholic!) and I just was not having a good day.  I decided I needed to go out for lunch and just get a mental break from the swirling chaos.  For some crazy unknown reason (although I suspect it was just part of my self-destructive downward spiral), I went to Ruby Tuesday's.  I think it's been at least three years since I have been to Ruby Tuesday's.  They have a great salad bar.  I like their burgers.  And they usually have cheeky bartenders.  These are all good things.  However, as you may have caught on - I was on a self-destructive streak, so I decided to do something particularly heinous.


I firmly believe that if you follow some golden rules in life, you will not go wrong.  Some of these golden rules include: "Don't eat take-out sushi from a gas station."  "If you don't like bathroom humor, don't watch a marathon of `South Park.'"  ("No Kitty, this is my pot pie!")  "If a guy only wants to meet you at 1 a.m., he's most likely not looking for a healthy monogamous relationship."  Simple pearls of wisdom here, people.  I have another golden rule that I evidently had forgotten on this particular day.  "Don't eat outside a restaurant's known sphere of cuisine."  If you're at a German restaurant, don't order the Jamaican beef patties.  Stay with the restaurant's core menu.  It's a really easy rule, so I don't know how the heck I could have forgotten it. 


When the Ruby Tuesday's server came up to me, I said words that I would soon ridiculously regret ...


"I'll have the lobster mac and cheese."


SERIOUSLY?


Lobster mac and cheese at Ruby Tuesday's?


Obviously someone needed to check me for head trauma or a stroke.  What the frick was I thinking?  I paid $12 for this ...

I think this is a quite clear and obvious cry for help.  Why would I forego the tasty burgers, the nice salad bar, the array of deep-fried goodness that is the Ruby Tuesday's menu?  Why?  Why?  Why?  Why did I think that lobster mac and cheese at Ruby Tuesday's would be a gourmet delight?  WHY???? 


As you might have guessed - I was WRONG, WRONG, WRONG to order the lobster mac and cheese.  Oh, it was beyond nasty.  Another classic golden rule is that if a fish smells fishy, then it's not fresh.  The lobster mac and cheese let off this "week old fishboat stank" that caused my nose hair to disintegrate.  Stanky, briny, putrid rotten smell.  And yet, even after taking a deep noseful of this crappy mess; I then needed to take a bite of it.  What's the word of the day, class?  Oh yes, self-destruction. 


It was not good.


Spoiled, briny rubber in over-cooked, bland noodles.  It tasted like grade school cafeteria mac and cheese with little bits of salty poison in it.  This was self-flagellation on a whole new level.  Two bites and I was done and feeling queasy.  It was disgusting.  The server asked me if I wanted a box and I recoiled in horror.


I paid $12 plus tax and tip.  I was afraid my gastro-intestinal system would pay a much larger price.


Fortunately for me, Ruby Tuesday's lobster mac and cheese did not leave me with any long-term effects other than the bad memories.  Take some words of advice from me, skip the lobster mac and cheese and get a burger with onion rings if you're at Ruby Tuesday's.  Your stomach will thank you! 


The silver lining in this stormy gray culinary cloud is that I think the lobster mac and cheese put an end to my self-destructive streak.  I think my brain and body said "OK, I get it - you hate yourself right now -- but do you hate yourself this much?  Get over it girl!" 


Give yourself a hug instead of subjecting yourself to bad food.  You won't regret it! 

Any Day is a Good Day for Cabaret ....

Please see the October 2012 update below about the upcoming Oct. 20, 2012 "The Bette Set" fundraiser for the Trevor Project.

Happy Monday!  When I was in sixth grade, I decided that my before school winter breakfast would be a poached egg and a glass of V-8 juice.  I don't know why, but to my sixth grade mind this sounded like the most luxurious of breakfasts.  I hosted a Bloody Mary brunch on Saturday (featuring delicious Hangar One roasted chipotle vodka), so this morning I made a protein-packed breakfast of poached eggs, turkey bacon and a glass of bold and spicy Bloody Mary mix (without the vodka, thank you!)  It was a nice childhood memory and a hearty breakfast.  A good start to a Monday.

This weekend was chock full of fantastic social events.  On Saturday, LM and I went to New American Theater in St. Petersburg, Florida to see "The Bette Set: A Musical Journey to Midler Earth."  A cabaret set featuring Bette Midler songs as sung by Michael Raabe and Sara DelBeato.   See a YouTube promo for the show here.  The show was a benefit for The Trevor Project - the national organization providing crisis and suicide prevention for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender youth.  The selection of songs was great.  (Can't tell you the last time I heard "Otto Titslinger"!)  Sara and Michael's voices were fantastic.  Michael's piano playing was over the top terrific as well! 

However, I think the most touching part about the show was hearing Sara and Michael's stories of their youth as intertwined with Bette Midler songs.  They had a slide show with their own childhood pictures (and one particularly hysterical picture where Michael and Sara's heads were nouveau nipple covers ... ya gotta see it to believe it!) 

Michael had one picture of himself at age 14, in a "Wizard of Oz" trucker hat holding a fiftieth birthday cake for Bette Midler.  Not only did the picture show that Michael has been a die-hard Bette Midler fan from an early age, but it also was a poignant reminder of how organizations like The Trevor Project and It Gets Better Project are so important for LGBT youth.  At my high school, a 14 year old in a "Wizard of Oz" trucker hat holding a Bette Midler 50th birthday cake for his own personal Bette Midler party would have been like waving a red flag in front of a pack of angry bulls.  My school was predominantly white and as a 1/2 Asian, 1/2 white student - I felt the scrutiny and ridicule of being different.  I'd have things thrown at me, be spit on and the verbal abuse was at a catastrophic level of cruelty.  It is absolutely necessary that LGBT youth have role models and support groups to help guide them.  Children can be overwhelmingly cruel.  Organizations like The Trevor Project and It Gets Better Project are crucial.  Dan Savage - the author and "Savage Love" columnist - created the It Gets Better Project.  I have always enjoyed Dan Savage's books and was glad to see that his name has now become synonymous with such a wonderful and worthwhile organization.

Michael Raabe and Sara DelBeato's cabaret set was funny, heart-warming and cost me $50 on iTunes as I went home and purchased a ton of Bette Midler songs after hearing Michael and Sara sing!  So Apple, you owe Michael and Sara some finder's fees! 

I was happy to see that Michael Raabe and Sara DelBeato will be doing another benefit in December 2011, but this time as a Wizard of Oz cabaret set called "Friends of Dorothy."  Knowing that Michael Raabe is also a diehard Wizard of Oz fan, I know that this show will be amazing.  The benefit is on behalf of the St. Petersburg Museum of History. 

If you are near the St. Petersburg, Florida area, check out Michael Raabe and Sara DelBeato.  Their cabaret is warm, fabulous and spiritually uplifting! 

October 2012 Update:  Michael Raabe and Sara Del Beato are bringing back their "The Bette Set" Cabaret described below on Saturday, October 20 - $15 tickets available at Free Fall Theatre.  I had a wonderful time last year and you should check it out.  It's also a benefit for the Trevor Project, so please attend for a good cause!

Back to Ciro's Speakeasy

Update:  Click here to read about the October 2012 new menu items at Ciro's Speakeasy.

If you read my previous blog post on Ciro's Speakeasy, you'll know that I am a great fan of the "Prohibition Chic" nightspot.  After hearing about my love of Ciro's, wicked paramour Sergio wanted to check it out as well.  Twist my arm, Sergio - sure, I'll head back to Ciro's!

Ciro's was pretty busy for a Thursday night.  Sergio and I ordered a drink in the lobby bar while waiting for a booth to open up.  You can't go to Ciro's and not sit in one of the romantic, curtained-off booths.  I was with a sexy, tattooed boy in leather and I was wearing snakeskin print stilettos -- a curtained booth was absolutely required for this evening!

We knew we needed a base in our stomachs before we started loading on the strong cocktails - so Sergio ordered the fabulous duck fries (French fries cooked in duck fat) with the accompanying three dipping sauces.  See my previous blog post on Ciro's to see pictures of these little fried bits of heaven.  As before, the duck fries did not disappoint.  They had a crack cocaine type effect on Sergio - he was absolutely over the moon for the duck fries and the sauces.  I'm sorry but I can only remember that one was tamarind ketchup, the other was my favorite chipotle maple gravy that is also served with the chicken and waffles.  The third dipping sauce was white -- I think it was a garlicky aioli.  Maybe I need to go back and read my previous post on Ciro's! 

Man and woman cannot live on fries alone.  Sergio next ordered the octopus and calamari.  Now most restaurants have traditional deep-fried calamari as their appetizer.  However, at Ciro's their octopus and calamari are grilled, covered with panko crumbs, feta cheese, tomatoes and kalamata olives.  In other words, the octopus and calamari was heavenly.  The seafood was incredibly fresh tasting and the Greek flavors lifted the dish up even higher.  This was some seriously good seafood.  I'm sorry to report that we were so busy enjoying the food that I didn't take any pictures of the food.  That is a blogger sin!

I love, love, love the fondue at Ciro's, but Sergio is not a fan of hot vats of melted cheese.  Oh Sergio, you're losing sexual appeal already!  So if you're a fondue fan, check out the pictures of fondue in - you guessed it - my previous blog post about Ciro's Speakeasy!

While I was too busy gorging to take pictures of the food, I did take pictures of our first round of cocktails.  I started with the "El Diablo" - a fruity ginger tequila concoction.  Insanely yummy.  I highly recommend it!

Sergio started with the "Safety Drink"- basically the drink you order when you don't know what to order, according to the cocktail menu!  There was also a nod to Samson regarding this drink.  There is a hot bouncer at MacDinton's Irish Pub and Restaurant named Samson, however I don't think Ciro's was talking about him.  I set aside my budding desire to cut off all of Sergio's hair and instead took a sip of his drink.  You should only go to Ciro's with people who don't mind you taste-testing their food and drinks.  Actually, I've made it a lifestyle to surround myself with people who don't mind this - and who also don't mind me photographing their food and drinks.   

When the "Safety Drink" arrived, Sergio was a bit put off by the old school champagne glass.  I think it initially threatened his masculinity.  But once he took a sip of this delicious drink, he found his cajones and got over the type of glass he was drinking from!  It was also delicious, but I preferred the El Diablo more.

After my El Diablo was finished (in like 2.4 seconds - sadly!), I went on to have a London Fairy - a drink accompanied by absinthe.  I have only had absinthe once in my life - onboard the Yacht Promenade - an amazing 65 foot trimaran and the world's best sailing charter in the British Virgin Islands.  (You can read Captain Kerry's blog about Yacht Promenade here.)  One of the Yacht Promenade crew members, adorably cute and ridiculously tall Richard from England, did the whole absinthe, lighter, sugar cube presentation.  I felt decadent sitting on a gorgeous trimaran in the balmy BVI courting the green fairy of absinthe.  If you ever want to feel like pampered royalty, spend a week on the Yacht Promenade.  You won't regret it.  I've done it twice and I wish I could do it every single year.  It is the most amazing holiday.  I found on that day in the BVI on the Yacht Promenade that I really enjoy absinthe, so I was happy that Ciro's had several absinthe drinks for my royal choosing. 

The London Fairy was over the top delicious and I was tempted to order another.   However, I'm a girl who likes to taste test, so after courting the lovely London Fairy, I then moved on to order a Moscow Mule - one of my favorite drinks.  My friend JWS first made me a Moscow Mule.  She saw the recipe on Oprah.  Evidently a lot of people saw that Oprah episode because when I told a friend I had been drinking a Moscow Mule, her reply was "Ohhh Oprah!"  Really?  I seriously believe Oprah has branded everything!  The woman owns the world!  Sergio tasted my Moscow Mule and said "That tastes like a mojito."  I gasped with mock horror and said "Ohhh nooo!  It's so much more!"  Perhaps the drinks were kicking in as I was getting much more dramatic.

At this point in the evening, Sergio was matching me drink for drink except his drinks were coming from the "Easy boy, that's a sipper!" side of the menu.  In fact, our server Sing asked twice "Are you sure?" when Sergio ordered the Millionaire's Cocktail.  I took a sip of it (and yes, it was also served in the old time lounge champagne glass) and I basically seared the inside of my mouth.  I didn't realize battery acid was potable.  Word to the wise - after many cocktails in a small romantic curtained booth at Ciro's, you really should not have the "what's the state of our relationship?" conversation.   You should be kissing and flirting and enjoying.  There really ought to be a disclaimer on the cocktail menu stating this.  (Read my previous Ciro's blog post to hear more about the curtained booths.)  If I knew Sergio was going to go all serious talk on me, I would have insisted he order a Coca-Cola instead of battery acid.  Puh-lease, this is Ciro's Speakeasy - leave the intense discussions for some other venue! 

Since the evening had taken a turn for the serious, I felt compelled to order another drink.  And what drink was going to help me ride the rocky seas of Sergio's alcohol-inspired intensity?  The Lychee Love Hotel, of course.  When I was last at Ciro's, my less intense companion NL had ordered the Lychee Love Hotel and I indeed "loved" it.  See a picture of the Lychee Love Hotel in my previous blog post about Ciro's Speakeasy.  The Lychee Love Hotel did what I was praying it would do -- move the conversation off serious topics with my wicked paramour Sergio and back to just plain fun.  Or perhaps at this point I was inebriated enough to not listen to Sergio!  Either way, the Lychee Love Hotel was a good way to cap off the evening!

I adore Ciro's Speakeasy and I will definitely be back again and again.  If you are in Tampa, go there - order cocktails, get the duck fries, the calamari, the fondue and the chicken and waffles and prepare yourself for a fantastic journey. 

Google Affiliate Ads:

John Oliver: Tampa apologizes ...

Tonight, LM and I went to Ferguson Hall at the Straz Center to see adorable British comedian John Oliver.  He is probably best known for his work on Comedy Central's "The Daily Show with Jon Stewart."  I was excited because we had 5th row seats and I have a fetish about being up close and personal for most shows I attend.  My friends call me "Seat Whore" - and I am hoping this is in reference to aforementioned said fetish and not some independently nasty slur.  The last time I was at the Straz Center, I was at Morsani Hall to see Dr. Deepak Chopra.  See my earlier blog post:  "This Dog Loves Deepak Chopra, Do You?"  The surprise that night was seeing two "diabetic service dogs" in the front row.  The events that happened at the John Oliver show this evening made me severely miss those two dogs! 


John's opening act was comedian Mike Lawrence - who in talking about his 7 year run working at McDonald's made me feel sad and yet crave a Happy Meal at the same time.  Nice work, Mike!


The show started at 8 p.m. on a Friday.  You would think most people just finished work, perhaps grabbed a quick dinner and then headed down to the Straz Center.  But apparently many audience members just arrived from the local bar where they secretly replaced their entire blood supply with grain alcohol.  Now, as someone who tends to dabble on the boozy side myself; I really shouldn't throw stones.  After all, I had turned to LM and said "I didn't get a chance to eat dinner before the show, so I ordered orange juice with my vodka-- I figure that counts as a meal, right?"  However, since I was not slurring my words or talking at the decibel level that someone screaming over a rock concert would; I feel like I can be a tad bit superior over the drunk audience members.


Midway through the opening act, a 23 year old woman and her advanced middle-aged mother sat down in the two seats directly to my right.  It appeared that the advanced middle-aged woman may have possibly been one of those patrons getting an Everclear transfusion at the local bar.  She clutched her plastic glass a little too tightly and was talking way too loudly.  I tried to find my Zen happy place to tune her out.  However, since I have an anger management issue - it gets increasingly hard to find my happy place even with Google Earth and a Garmin GPS.


After a funny, but somewhat sad, but still pretty darn funny set from Mike Lawrence, out popped the British cupcake himself - John Oliver.  (I am assuming I'm probably one of the first people to ever call John Oliver a British cupcake.  I'm just guessing here.)  I love John Oliver's sense of humor - dry, smart, funny.  I imagine that if I were at a pub with John, hoisting a few pints - by the third or fourth beer I'd lose all ability to ascertain whether he was making fun of me.  And yet I'm pretty sure he would be and he'd be doing it in a smart way.


John Oliver started with some jokes on life as a Brit in America.  Evidently, advanced middle-aged woman ("AMAW" for short!) had no idea who she was seeing at the Straz Center.  She kept screaming at her daughter: "WHO IS THIS?  WHAT'S HIS NAME?  JOHN OLIVER??  REALLY?"  It was as if her daughter had said "Lord Poopinsquat, Demonic Overlord of the Seventh Moon" because AMAW could simply not fathom that anyone could possibly be named "John Oliver."  I was trying to decide if AMAW was really, really drunk or really, really nuts.  Either way, it was increasingly apparent that this woman was going to be a loose cannon.  I could hear her mentioning potential heckle comments.  Seriously?  There is better behavior at the local comedy club!!  Did this woman actually come with her game face on to heckle John Oliver?  Here's a clue lady, if you're going to heckle a comedian - at least know who you are heckling.  I paid to see John Oliver because I think he is hysterical.  I did not pay to hear your drunken ranting.  I'm a tall girl - I'd be able to hold my own in a prison fight.  I'm not afraid to knock you out lady, because seriously it would take one blow.  I saw the MMA movie "Warrior" for heaven's sake.  I'm ready to take you down!  Did I mention my anger management issue? 


If I had a time machine, I'd go back to right before John Oliver made a comment about Canada.  I'd pop out of said time machine and I would throw myself on John Oliver and I would beg, with excessive tears running down my cheeks, "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD MAN, DO NOT MENTION CANADA!" 


But as anyone who has seen me try to change a light bulb knows, I am not the most technically inclined and therefore the chances of me designing and constructing a time machine are slightly better than me winning the Powerball lottery.  Sigh.  I apologize John Oliver, if ever there was a moment that truly needed a time machine; this was it.  I let you and everyone in Ferguson Hall down tonight because I don't have a time machine.


Apparently, allegedly drunk or insane AMAW is from Canada.


The night took a bad turn, right there.  AMAW put on her strongest, smartest thinking cap and after checking with her daughter again: "Um, what's his name again?  John Oliver??  Really?  OK.  OK.  JOHN - WHERE ARE YOU FROM THEN?" 


Yes, AMAW asked this right after about 10 minutes of John's jokes about being British in America.  Evidently AMAW does not understand the correlation between "Being British" and where someone is from.  England.  Great Britain.  UK.  Any of those work, AMAW; pick one. 


The entire theater went very quiet.  I kept making hand gestures and slumping in my seat to show all the people staring at us that LM and I were most certainly NOT with this crazy woman.  We, minus AMAW, were a theater full of Floridians feeling embarrassed, annoyed and severely apologetic to John Oliver.  I go to a ton of shows at the Tampa Improv and I have never seen a heckler this bad.  But for a nationally known comedian at the Straz Center?  Come on!  Give the man some respect!  Our entire section would cheer madly any time John made a reference to how annoying the crazy Canadian was.  When I let out a frantic arm waving round of clapping and hooting when John made reference to those seated near AMAW must want to hurt her, AMAW looked at me with surprise.  Seriously?  Do you have no concept how disruptive and annoying you are, lady? 


I eyed the people around us with beer bottles. If people decided to start throwing things at AMAW, I could only pray that they had good aim as I was directly next to AMAW's daughter and AMAW.


Turns out AMAW is named "Susan" and she is from Melbourne, Florida (Tampa breathes a sigh of relief!) and may or may not be a massage therapist.  John Oliver made some well-deserved jokes at AMAW's expense, but when it came out that AMAW was with her 23 year old daughter - John, chivalrously let up and referred to the daughter as a "human shield."  I was sitting on the other side of the daughter.  If I had been sitting directly next to her mother, I'd be in jail right now for assault and battery.  I kid you, not.  John Oliver finally directed conversation away from Susan saying that continued attention on her would be like giving a 3 year old a tamborine.  Amen, brother!


The rest of the show was hysterically funny, but I had to do my best to drown out the very loud talking from Susan/AMAW.  She kept strategizing with her daughter on potential lines to heckle John Oliver with - but she kept forgetting his name, so she had to keep asking what it was.  How hard is it to remember John Oliver?  The inner debate I was having over drunk vs. crazy was tipping to the "crazy/nutso/batsh*t looney" side.  Susan/AMAW was determined to get the "spotlight" back on her.  Evidently, she thought she was in an audience participation show.  I kept waiting for her to get up and do the "Time Warp."  Instead she kept yelling out "COMMONWEALTH!" at inappropriate times.  Although come to think of it, is there ever an appropriate time to yell out "Commonwealth"?


After many wonderful jokes, John Oliver was wrapping up to say "Good Night" when Susan cut in again!  At this point, I'm surprised she didn't vault the stage and climb on John's back screaming "Ride 'em, Cowboy!"  Did my ticket say "John Oliver with special guest star Susan, the allegedly drunk or crazy Canadian?"  Watch out, Mike Lawrence-- apparently Susan thinks she's in line for your opening act slot!


The house lights went up and the entire room full of people glared at Susan, the Canadian.  However with the same ambivalence of drunks and loons, Susan had no freaking clue.  She thought she had MADE the evening!  She was all aglow from her time in the spotlight.  I could imagine Susan going home and pulling out that script she wrote for a "Golden Girls" episode and saying "SEE!  SEE!  I KNEW I WAS FUNNY!"


The entire six rows that sat around Susan, including LM and myself, stayed in our seats.  We did not want to be anywhere near Susan the Canadian as she was leaving.  I imagine this would be how we would behave in prison.  We have a feeling someone is going to get shivved in the prison cafeteria and we don't want any part of the backlash, so we focus intently on our fruit cocktail instead.  Once Susan was out of the theater, our six rows got up and left - shaking our heads with disbelief.


I wanted to write John Oliver a letter of apology on behalf of the city of Tampa for this Melbourne, Florida/Canadian woman's antics.  Totally uncalled for, totally disrespectful and totally disruptive.


LM and I walked around the Straz Center to get to the back lot where LM's car was waiting for us.  LM was making an impassioned speech on a woman's right to choose when I saw four people standing by a side door.  It was Mike Lawrence, John Oliver and a man and a woman who were getting a picture with John Oliver.  Directly in the middle of LM's strong point on why all women should have the right to choose, I took both hands and shoved LM in the direction of John Oliver.  If shoving LM for distance was an Olympic sport, I totally would have nailed the Bronze.  Possibly the Silver.  I'm a little embarrassed how hard I pushed her and how far she went with my single two-handed shove! 


However there was a reason for my Olympic shove.  When it comes to getting pictures with celebrities, LM is the Queen - and I was NOT going to let her miss this opportunity!  If you are even remotely famous, you probably have had your picture taken with LM at some point in your career.  She is a "photo opportunity with celebrities" magnet!  In fact, if you want to be famous, take a picture with LM.  You're as good as golden.


I may have quite probably dislocated LM's shoulder in shoving her so hard, instead of merely saying "Hey look, there's John Oliver-- fancy a photo with him?"  But see, I'm American - I say things with violence!  (Are you listening, allegedly Crazy Canadian???)  Luckily, LM understands that sometimes a shoulder needs to get dislocated in order to get a picture with a British cupcake!  She's a hell of a trooper! 


We bum-rushed John Oliver and explained to him and the crowd that gathered directly behind us that we were sitting next to Susan the Canadian.  A collective gasp ensued.  John Oliver did what I wish most of my boyfriends did -- he let out a heart-felt "Ohhhh nooooo!" (as in "Ohh noo, you poor darlings - let me hold you and make you feel better!") and wrapped his arms around us for a picture.  It was like we said "we are Viet Nam veterans with post-traumatic stress disorder, please hold us and make the pain go away." 


God bless the sweet British Cupcake, John gave us much sympathy! When I told him that AMAW and his daughter had spent the second half of the show trying to strategize more heckle lines to get Susan "back in the show,"  John Oliver shook his head and said he was now glad that he did heckle her back.  Down-to-Earth and lovely, it was a pleasure to meet John Oliver.


LM looked radiant and fabulous in her picture with John Oliver.  However, I'm not happy with my look in my picture.  I keep thinking that flat-ironing my hair makes me look chic and cool, when in reality it makes me look like a drowned gopher.  A drowned gopher grinning cheesily at John Oliver.  So I am not going to post the picture, I think the visual I just gave you is enough.  But I will share the adorable picture of John Oliver (with cheesy drowned gopher cropped out).  John's last bit of the night was running back and forth on the stage, so he looks sweaty - but still a sweaty British cupcake is better than no British cupcake at all.  He also looks appropriately crazed in this picture, which frankly is the look most men have when they wrap their arm around me.

 
So thank you, John Oliver - your show was fantastic.  The fabulously emotionally supportive way you let two Tampa women screech about how awful it was to be seated next to the rude Canadian women obviously shows that you are a kind and caring man - or that your wife has beaten it into you on how to be comforting.  


I would have loved to hear some stories about your life working with Jon Stewart (and Wyatt Cenac - the adorable American cupcake), but I understand you probably want to be known for more than just "The Daily Show."  On behalf of Tampa, we are ever so sorry and embarassed by the allegedly crazy Canadian - please don't hold it against us and visit us again soon!


Update:  After I published this post, the Google Ads on my blog started featuring ads for Menopause supplements.  Apparently my over-use of the term "advanced middle-aged" in referring to the allegedly drunk and/or allegedly crazy Canadian has caused my blog ads to become Menopause Central.  Oh Blogger.com - you are the gift that keeps on giving!