food

There is one major difference between Twizzlers and Red Vines: People who prefer Red Vines will eat Twizzlers and claim that they’re very similar. People who prefer Twizzlers hate Red Vines. ‘Nuff said.

A few weeks ago I wrote about how annoying it is to get an “affirmation cookie” instead of one with an actual fortune. Well at lunch today one of my co-workers got what we thought was a horribly rude fortune cookie. Instead of the usual mindless drivel, instead of even a useless affirmation, the “directive” cookie he received at California Wok read, “Work on improving your exercise routine.” Ouch.

For a long time now my friends and I have been complaining about “affirmation cookies”. Fortune cookies just aren’t as cool as they used to be. It seems like all the fortunes we get now have messages that aren’t … well … fortunes. Instead they say things like, “You are a kind person,” or, “People respect you.” Don’t give me that crap. Tell me not to get on the 405 on my way home, or that I’m going to have an adventure this weekend, or even to beware the bald man.

Yesterday I got my first fortune fortune cookie in years. It read:

You will never need to worry about a steady income.

That’s certainly nice to hear. Of course … it could mean that I’m about to get a life sentence for a crime I didn’t commit, or get hit by a bus. But I’ll try to be optimistic about it.

Who in the world doesn’t want to eat bread that looks like human body parts?

kelly: You eat cottage cheese?
GatorDVG: never
kelly: Ah. Too bad.
GatorDVG: as far as I’m concerned, it’s just some sort of cheese and spoiled milk combination. two of my least favorite things on the planet.
kelly: Excellent for breakfast and before bedtime. Just the right blend of slow digesting carbs, protein and fat.
kelly: I hear you. People either like it or loathe it.
GatorDVG: and, I can only assume, it’s produced in cottages. that can’t be sanitary.
kelly: They’re very clean cottages though. They sweep them with those handmade brooms, like in fairly tales.
GatorDVG: ahh

On Saturday night Kelly and I played in a “Nite Lite” golf tournament at Porter Valley. One word: Awesomeness. The format was a Texas Scramble, which basically means everyone hits a ball and then decides who had the best shot. Then everyone hits from there as if that was his shot. We got to use two or three of my drives and several of my other shots, so that was heartening. The sun was gone from the sky by the time we started the back nine and it was just about pitch black, so we had glow-in-the-dark balls and neon necklaces and little glowing ropes on the carts. It’s quite amazing that nobody was killed.

Because there were so many groups we started on the 5th tee. Every fourth or fifth hole had a theme. The first tee was margaritas and fajitas and tacos. The fifth was ribs, chicken, and rum drinks, etc. The best was probably the 10th hole, with chocolate brownies, scotch, and cigars and coffee. One of the holes was cheese and crackers and wine. Our last hole was, if I remember correctly, fourteen; we finished the night with Italian sausages and beer. This was not an evening for the intestinally weak. Lots of photos, of course, posted to Flickr.

Fast Food: Ads vs. Reality

On Sunday night we had dinner at The Lodge Steakhouse on La Cienega in Beverly Hills. The place was almost empty and for the better part of the night we had the entire large dining room to ourselves. For some strange reason this dark, rustic, wood-grained, hunting-outpost-themed restaurant was blasting hair-band hits of the late 70s and early 80s from a speaker inconveniently situated directly above our table. Aside from that oddity, though, the meal was delicious and the service was good. I’ll assume that there were so few other diners because of the holiday, because the steaks were perfect, it wasn’t that expensive, and it’s in a great location. Give it a shot if you’re looking for a nice New York strip.

Note: Just before chocolate desserts arrived in the nearly-deserted room, the hostess sat a party at the table right next to us. It was — coincidentally — the former neighbors of my fiancée’s parents: Hilary and Haylie Duff, along with Kevin Connolly (”E” from Entourage).

On my desk right now is a football-shaped bowl of Willy Wonka’s Everlasting Gobstoppers. I poured three entire boxes into the bowl a few days ago and am now in trouble. You see, I’ve been methodically eating them by color. I started with red and then went to orange. The problem is that now there are only purple, yellow, and green remaining. I had been planning on eating the green ones next. If I do that, though, then there will only be LSU colors left in the bowl. They are an SEC rival, so I just can’t do that. I can try to think of them as the Lakers, but I just don’t care enough about basketball … and the Tigers will still be in the back of my mind. I can’t eat the purple ones because that would leave yellow and green and that’s just hideous. I can’t eat the yellow ones because then there will only be green and purple and that’s even worse. I’m thinking that the best course of action in this situation is to just put the whole bowl on Molly’s desk.

At the top of a tall, round building casting a shadow on the highway — right where Sunset meets the 405 — is a restaurant called West. I ate there Friday night with my girlfriend fiancée and her mom. The view of the city is just incredible and the bone-in New York strip was one of the top ten steaks I’ve ever had.

There’s been a lot of blog buzz this morning about a page displaying the difference between what you ordered and what you get at fast food places. If you’ve ever had the misfortune of being in the car with me on a trip through a fast-food drive-through, you know that this is a subject near and dear to my heart. I do not care how many cars are in line behind me. I do not care that you are only making minimum wage. I do not care what your franchise policy is. When I order super size french fries, you better give me super size french fries. I want it to look just like it looks on the big menu ten yards behind my car. I’m paying you two dollars for about eight cents worth of potatoes. Do not $*&# with me on this.

Also: It is amazing that a Google image search for “french fries” returns so much porn. Who knew?

Last night on my way home from work I stopped at La Bruschetta to pick up some of their excellent vegetable soup for my sick girlfriend fiancée. We’ve eaten at La Bruschetta a few dozen times over the years. It’s on Westwood Blvd, just on the other side of Santa Monica from my house. When I attempted to pay, the waiter — who is the owner’s son — wouldn’t let me. He said he could tell that Tricia was sick when she called to order and it was on the house. How great is that?

Unfortunately the chef accidentally gave me a bowl of some other soup. I didn’t realize it until I got home and she told me it was the wrong one. We called them and they apologized profusely. I jumped in the truck and returned to grab the correct soup. Since I was already there, I asked if they could make me some penne arrabiata, too. I forgot that the arrabiata is no longer on the menu there. Not only did he have the chef make me an order and add some breadsticks, but he also refused to let me pay and insisted that I take home two great bottles of wine. Now that is how you earn a good reputation.

Friday Five: My Last Five Dinners

• 03/11 - Wolfgang Puck’s Spago - LA
• 03/12 - Koi - LA
• 03/13 - Wolfgang Puck’s Cut - LA
• 03/14 - Maloney & Porcelli - NYC
• 03/15 - Sparks Steak House - NYC

For Valentine’s Day this year I enrolled my girlfriend and myself for a class at Los Angeles’ coolest cooking class: hipcooks. Our class was “The Surprise Guest”, the only one available when I registered. We made an endive appetizer, roasted honey pear salad with tarragon dressing, pistachio-crusted swordfish with a light curry sauce, herbed couscous, and for dessert a chocolate bark with poached pear decorated with raspberry coulis. Our instructor, Alison, was wildly perky and made the experience incredibly bouncy. We had a deliciously good time and I would gladly do it again.

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