For the past two weeks, Matt and I (sans Pokey) were on vacation. We flew into Seattle, rented a car and went to Portland and down the California coast, ending in San Diego. Plent of postings to come – we ate like Kings of New York. Here’s one to tide you over:

Carne asada and chicken tacos with jicama salad from Papalote in San Francisco.

Bottled local, organic water. In a 100% recycled, locally foraged bottle.

Translation: Gowanus Canal water put through my Brita filter and packaged into used Poland Spring bottles that I find rummaging through my neighbors trash.

8th Annual NYC Pickle Day
Sunday, September 14th
11 AM to 4:30 PM
Orchard Street between Grand and Broome
On the Lower East Side

From The New York Post:

“A hotheaded chef at China City restaurant in Brooklyn has been charged with dousing two women with scalding cooking oil after they complained about bad take-out food.

The melee started when Sylvia Grice, 44, and Dorranne Leggett, 42, stormed into the Myrtle Avenue eatery Thursday night to confront the chef, Luien Jhing, 28.

The disgruntled diners angrily threw their uneaten dinners at Jhing.

Cops said the chef hurled a pot of hot oil, burning Grice’s back and Leggett’s shoulder.

Jhing was charged with assault, menacing, harassment and criminal possession of a weapon - the oil.”

I really wish this article was more detailed. I imagine two middle aged, whiney women ordering from a dirty, no-frills Chinese place: You know, the ones where they display fancy photos of the dishes in light boxes and the old photos have turned all green and blue. Maybe they are expecting something better than a Chinese take-out kitchen can produce. Or maybe the place has no sanitation knowledge and served them rotten food. I imagine some racial slurs and maybe some INS threats. Then some Chinese oil torture. People, do not fuck with the Chinese. They will mess you up. Even if your food is shitty, just let the $5.95 go.

“Hey, Chef! Can you cook my steak well done with no oil and no salt? And I know it’s not on the menu, but could you make me some mashed potatoes?”

There are a lot of stupid carnivores that don’t want to admit to themselves that beef is cow and pork is pig. In the same vain, there are restaurant goers who, for some reason, don’t think that there are human beings handling their food in the kitchen with their bare hands! And more than 50% of the time they are dirty immigrants! Holy shit!

Lately, people have been more conerned with where their food comes from, but it’s important to know who is handling your food right before it goes in your mouth. Someone with clean hands producing your food? You shouldn’t even leave the house if this bothers you. But how about a restaurant that serves rotten proteins that you don’t even know about until you spend two hours on the toilet later in the night?

Here’s something to do when you are bored or get the shits from a restaurant: The NYC DOH list of restaurant inspections. Type in the name of your favorite places and get grossed out by sanitary violations. Just so you know, 28 points and above means fail.

You’re welcome.

A: More bars. Especially wine bars. The fact that there are two wine bars (and another two in the works) within a two block radius is not enough. Instead of one bar for every fifty people, I want a 5:1 ratio. There are a lot of alcoholics with expendable incomes here. I love when I want to go and sit and chillax with a glass of wine, I have to put up with elbow to elbow crackers drinking wine like it’s a Roman orgy. I love the fact that at midnight I could go to a dozen places and get a $100 bottle of wine and yet my only option for food is the diner or bodega snacks.

All these wine bars and I still cannot get a sangria slushie. Fucked up.