Food P*rn

So which is it? Is the 11:20 late or on time? Logically, it can't be both, right? Well, maybe in the universe of the MTA (specifically, the Metro North New Haven Line) it can. Welcome to life with the soon-to-be more expensive NYC Metropolitan Transportation Authority. Oh joy. And did I mention that the air-conditioning was broken in one of the cars?

But enough of the time honored tradition of kvetching about the MTA. Yesterday and today have been very pleasant.

Last night my engineer and I joined his best friend and his (the friend's) brothers and other pals for a belated 50th birthday dinner at Volare in the Village for said friend. (I was the only female in a group of 8 men. I was also the youngest person at the table for a change. Heh.) The owners at Volare are very fond of Jimmy (the birthday boy) and so they made a special cake just for him. Voila!

Although I have indeed used the term "food p*rn" as one of my tags, this is the only time the photo truly qualifies, wouldn't you agree? (I use the asterisk since I don't want to wind up as a result on the wrong search string!) Note the helpful placement of the maraschino cherry -- you know what they say about attention to detail making the difference between a good and great dish. ;-P

Needless to say, the table was howling with laughter when the cake showed up (hmmm... I wonder if I should send it to Cake Wrecks?!) since these were all guys' Guys, if you know what I mean, and they thoroughly enjoyed watching the honoree refuse to pucker up to, er, blow out the cake. while sitting in the West Village. (He wound up waving his hand over the 2 candles to put them out. HA!) And yes, mine was not the only cellphone to promptly make an appearance to memorialize the cake. Sadly, I never found out how they made it, and what was inside since the traditional/ normal desserts were actually served for eating.

Maybe I will go back and ask Sal. He and Falco, the head waiter and co-owner, were both very warm and genuinely friendly. Not enough good can ever be said of career waiters vs. actors-in-training. No wonder the reviews are so warm. Plus the tasty vittles of course -- Jimmy's never seen a menu since food just magically appears in front of him. I understand now why my friend LQ likes that magic trick at dim sum, when my friend Margaret and I do all the ordering.

Today was a trip up to my sister's home in CT for early Father's Day (hence the MTA kvetching), since my brother-in-law is like a second dad to me. Unfortunately, he no longer understands that as a dad, the holiday is for HIM -- he thinks it is only for HIS father, who died during the war, so clearly there is no need to celebrate Father's Day any longer. Sigh.

Nonetheless HIS sister and brother-in-law and I came to visit. (My nephew is spending tomorrow with him, and my 2 nieces are out of the country and out of this time zone respectively.) I bought him a DVD of Winged Migration and a giant coffee table book (he seems to like those) -- OCEAN by Dorling Kindersley. He seemed very pleased by the giant book, but got distracted and didn't open his card or DVD. Oh well, he'll have something to open tomorrow. And besides the whole point was to find something he'd still be able to enjoy, and the book qualifies. Yay!

Yes, I have decided visual media is the way to go with my brother-in-law. Magazines are still okay, but books are now too difficult for him, sadly. This was a man who used to love reading history books, biographies, etc. -- you know, densely typeset books with no pictures. And yes, "was" is the correct term. Sigh.

On the bright side, they have adjusted some of his medication so that it both minimizes his delusions (the organic deterioration of the brain from Alzheimers results in vivid auditory and/or visual hallucinations, I understand) AND it helps him sleep through the night -- the disease has wrecked his sense of time, plus some of the other medication would keep him wound up so that he'd get up at 3am. So the new drug (whose name I forget, alas) is a godsend. Hooray! RTBT!

And now, I should toddle off to bed, since I have to get up at the crack of dawn, so that I can head off to Jersey City, after which my sweetie and I are going down to Toms River to visit HIS dad (and mom), where he will chauffeur and treat them to a meal at one of their favorite restaurants, Crown Palace in Middletown.

Afterward, I know his mom will be itching to hit the Chinese supermarket next door. However, I had to disabuse her of the notion that I would be able to help her shop amongst the various unlabelled groceries. First of all, I speak a (wee) little bit of conversational Mandarin, and NOT food Mandarin. (Example: I defy you to figure out what ingredients are in the Eight Treasures dish. And did I mention that more than one dish is named "Eight Treasures"? Heh.) Secondly, while I may know the names of items in Chinese (in Shanghainese / Ningbohua, and NOT Mandarin or Cantonese) this does NOT mean I know what's it's called in English, so I may not KNOW that I know something she's asking me for, if you see what I mean. Shall I go on? No, I didn't think so.

Ciao!