Spooning and the City

A 20-something restaurant publicist's recipe for stomaching life in Atlanta: a bunch of dining out, a sprinkling of music, a spoonful of style, a dash of dating woes and a pinch of sarcasm for good measure.

Monday, December 17, 2007

The Christmas Challenge

I know, the holiday season has kicked my ass and I have been a sucky blogger, but I'm back for a festive moment thanks to the encouragement of my friend and fellow writer Kristina, who has recommended that I take on the challenge to make the time for a blog post about holiday traditions. And to ensure that I don't get coal in my stocking this year, here you have it...

1. wrapping or gift bags? wrapping paper, unless it's one of those totally awkward shaped gifts that require the "easy button" approach. i actually find wrapping sort of therapeutic.

2. real or artificial tree? for REAL yo! i can proudly say i have a fabulous fraser fir in my living room right now, with an even more fabulous red Solo cup masquerading as the star on top after a recent holiday shindig.

3. when do you take the tree down? when it dies i guess. most plants haven't managed to last very long in our house. i'm going to take a lesson from our mountain man neighbor who has had a wreath on his door since we moved in in June; he doesn't seem to be concerned about getting rid of it.

4. do you like eggnog? i haven't had it in years, but i can't imagine how i wouldn't (as long as it's made with bourbon or brandy and not rum).

5. favorite gift received as a child? oooh, this is a tough one. standouts are the She-Ra Princess of Power castle and a magenta Barbi Corvette.

6. do you have a nativity scene? ha, i wouldn't consider my living quarters very "baby friendly." this is about the closest we've had to a "scene" involving a doll lately.

7. worst christmas gift you ever received? a set of encyclopedias.

8. mail or email christmas cards? i envy anyone that finds the time to do either.

9. favorite christmas movie? A Charlie Brown Christmas and Home Alone still get me in the spirit.

10. when do you start shopping for christmas? varies from year to year, though this year, i'm already all done! it's a whole lot easier when you just resort to ordering everything online.

11. favorite thing to eat at christmas? peppermint bark! and my Italian grandmother's yummy cookies.

12. clear lights or colored lights on the tree? usually clear lights, but i'm certainly not opposed to colored lights as a decorative element elsewhere in the house.

13. favorite christmas song? no one sings the holiday blues like George Michael in "Last Christmas." I also love "I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm" by Kay Starr (the remixed version).

14. best christmas memory? so many to choose from! just traveling to new york to be with the whole family, playing in the snow, trying to stay up to catch santa leaving the presents, and the pure excitement of waking up on christmas morning.

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Justin Bobby Brings Me Back

I'm embarassed to say that I had a brief moment of deja vu while watching the latest episode of MTV's The Hills. And no, unfortunately it was not during one of the more glamorous scenes at Area or Brody Jenner's beach house in Malibu. Instead, it was during Justin Bobby's pathetic attempt to talk his way out of Audrina breaking up with him. For those of you who do not watch this show (shame on you, it's high comedy), Audrina claims to have seen boyfriend Justin Bobbby kissing another girl at the club - and so did all her friends. During the "break up talk," JB gets angry that she believes her friends because [direct quote], "Of course they are going to say that, your friends don't fathom me whatsoever." Really JB? Fathom? Was that you just now attempting to use semi-big words? What I cannot fathom is how you could F up the usage of that word. I'll put my grammar gear on for a second and say that while technically a synonym of fathom could potentially work in that sentence, it's still a huge stretch and I'm guessing genius JB was going for the more commonly used word "favor," which, confusing as it may be, also starts with the letter F. Anyways, it brought me back a few years to a simliar "dealbreaker" dating moment of my own. I was having dinner with this guy when we somehow got on the topic of sweeteners (yes, clearly a scintillating date already), and said boy began to pontificate on how he can't use artificial sweeteners or drink diet soda because he can't stand the aftertaste: "it's that aspartame (pronounced ass-part-a-MEE)," he said very assuredly. Yes, asspartamee. I was expecting "pardonmeimanass" to follow, but it didn't - nor did another date obviously. I know it sounds totally petty, but he was just so cocky about his distaste for something he couldn't even pronounce! Plus, it was really more the straw that broke the camel's back, as was the case with Justin Bobby (who has exhibited far too many red flags to mention, but for starters there's the story behind his name; his vehicle of choice is an El Camino; he tries way too hard to be Johnny Depp; he has an extreme penchant for burping in people's faces; he wears combat boots to the beach and he once abandoned Audrina in Vegas).
I'm a little bit dissapointed that both http://www.tvwithoutpity.com/ and http://www.imbringingbloggingback.blogspot.com/, two of my fave entertainment/celeb gossip blogs, failed to call Justin out on this comment, so I felt it was my duty. But I'm still holding out hope that Joel McHale will chew up Justin Bobby and spit him back out in the most hilarious way possible on the next episode of The Soup (fingers crossed).

Sunday, November 18, 2007

A Dairytale Ending in Death Valley

Saturday was spent in Clemson, South Carolina for the Clemson/Boston College football game. My housemate is a BC alum, and I went along to support the cause. Yes, I could regale you with tales of tailgating and touchdowns, but, while the first half left us rather hopeless, Boston College came back to win (20-17) and that's all that really matters...and we stumbled upon the sign pictured above on our way to the stadium and it is a far more intriguing concept at Clemson than the college's football culture. Now, while I am not "fresh" out of college, it hasn't been THAT long - at least not long enough for two new cafeteria food groups to have developed. Notice that this isn't some temporary, laminated notification sticking out of the lawn - it is legit, long-term signage complete with a metal post and directional arrows, because God forbid students miss the turn for ice cream and cheese and wind up in line for simply just a sandwich or slice of pizza. Suddenly, the formerly satisfying food options at my alma mater seem so limited. Although I did not make it to the new Hendrix Center to sample the selection of cheese and ice cream products that constitute such a wayfinding display, I can only imagine the spread. Is this the new Atkins?

Perhaps it's this massive amount of dairy fuel that gives Clemson fans their spunk. And spunky they are; I must give these Tigers credit for both the volume level and expenditure of physical energy behind their cheers. In fact, were it up to me, I would dub
Death Valley "Deaf Valley."


Monday, November 5, 2007

Caramba Cafe: The New Birth Control


In an attempt to take it easy on Friday night with the prospect of three parties taking place the following day, a couple of friends and I decided to grab a quick and casual dinner in our 'hood at Caramba Cafe. Never having gone on a weekend night before, we were unaware that there would be nothing quick nor casual (at least not mentally) about it. First of all, do not go here if you are hungry because you will wait for an hour to sit down, and then another hour to get a server who will maybe take your drink order if you're lucky. Go about three hours before you think you might be hungry and that should be perfect timing. Secondly, do not go here unless you have children - or are ready for a GIANT dose of reality. Walking into this place gave me an extreme oh-my-god-I-truly-will-not-be-able-to-handle-kids-EVER panic attack. While I firmly believe in family-friendly establishments, this one gave me heart palpitations. They are everywhere, in every nook and cranny (and note that the restaurant is jam packed as it is), running through your legs, rolling around on the dirty floor and throwing things over the booth partition at your table. If this doesn't ruin your time in the sack, then their pitchers of margaritas certainly will because ain't no way your man will be able to get it up after that much tequila. This is the first time I have ever and probably will ever complain about a heavy handed bartender (those who know me can attest to this), which should tell you how undrinkable these are, but at least we got our money's worth. Next time I'm just going to sit on my couch with a bottle of tequila and a shot glass. On to the food, which I should warn you, is not edible for at least 20 minutes after it hits the table due to some sort of extreme nuclear reheating process - my enchilada gave me third degree burns, and yes, I had to be THAT girl and spit out my first bite. While my companions' fajitas and poblano relleno were much more appetizing, the enchilada sauce looked and tasted much closer to A1 steak sauce and had a somewhat suspicious consistency by the end of the meal.

I have to quote my dear friend Sarah Kate who said to me the next day, "Can we vow to never go there again, unless it's to get drunk?" Enough said.

Please note: there are no photos from the meal with this post because a food-related blog should not make you want to lose your lunch! Additionally, after those margaritas, I can't imagine that the photos would be in focus.

Sunday, October 28, 2007

Thanks Punkin!

With a bad taste in my mouth from Paolo Nutini's horrific performance the night before, or perhaps it was from the Charlie G's combo at The North Highland Pub that masqueraded as dinner, we woke up early to test out Java Jive's limited-time only pumpkin pancakes. I would forego sleeping in any time for a plate of this fluffy goodness made with LOTS of nutmeg and complete with cinnamon syrup on the side. They will be available again during the last two weekends in November -don't miss your chance! And if you're lucky, you will get a side of server humor - ours regaled us with tales of his parents' double wedding (but don't ask him any questions about it because, after all, he wasn't around yet) after claiming he has the best cell phone wallpaper ever: the cover of The Random House Dictionary. Again, don't ask questions, just let him lead you through tastytown.


Friday, October 26, 2007

Hey, I put some new shoes on...and went to see Paolo Nutini at the Tabernacle


So I went on a little lunchtime shopping spree on Friday for some new winter shoes, since I left my go-to pair of cold weather kicks from '06 in a hotel last week. (Yes, I am easily distracted by a room that you do not have to clean and a bed you do not have to make and therefore tend to leave key articles of clothing and accessories behind in my mesmerized state because all I really needed were my memories of that luxury mattress and giant tub). But, I digress...as I removed my recent purchases from the shopping bag and thought about my next outing during which I could try out said shoes - it came to me! Who would appreciate my purchases more than the man of new shoes himself...yes, by now you should have caught on and are humming his breakout hit, Mr. Paolo Nutini. I just happen to have tickets to his show this weekend at the Tabernacle - how's that for synchronicity?! Sting and The Police would be so proud. What they would not be proud of, however, is Paolo Nutini's stage presence, or lack thereof. While his two opening acts, Serena Ryder and Sarah Barielles, sang their hearts out, Paolo couldn't be bothered. He also couldn't be bothered to stand up straight or actually look at the audience through his Cousin It mane (see below). We PAID for full frontal, Paolo! Not this hunched over sideways stance shit. His rendition of "New Shoes" was certainly NOT worthy of my new purchase. And "Rewind" made me want to, well, rewind the evening a few hours to the car ride where we could listen to his CD and still imagine he had talent. The only song that showed any type of personality was his cover of Moby's "Natural Blues" - go figure. Atlanta was the last city on his tour - way to go out with a bang, buddy.

By the way, did anyone know that the Tabernacle sells pizza by the slice? Weird.