Good Morning

R.S.V.PLEASE!

Oh, woe is the chef-come-writer who uses his platform to bemoan a pervasive social faux pas.  I confess I run the risk of showing even a touch of gray just implying that times have changed.  But alas, sometimes there’s a vacancy on the soap box, and you have to step up.

The French term RSVP means “répondez s’il vous plait”, translated: “Please reply.”  It’s considered an older way of ending an invite, but anyone who has ever thrown a party or event can tell you it’s critical to the success of an evening. 

These days, we get a lot of “Regrets Only,” implying, “Everyone is coming, right?  No? Okay, then let me know.”  The major difference?  No “please”.  But, old-school or not, replying to an invite isn’t just proper etiquette and good manners, it’s required of the invitee to allow the event planners time to accommodate their guests.  Not doing so is flat out inconsiderate, and there isn’t any other word, polite or rude, to describe it. So- WTF?

We live in an age where it is impossible to hide behind the guise of missing someone’s message.  Some people are so tied into their electronic devices that their actions become almost Pavlovian when the chimes or vibrations begin.  A flip, a slide- a quick glance, and then back in the pocket, waiting for more important messages to arrive.  And you can’t “unsend” or “leave as unread” like the early days of AOL without notifying the sender the jig is up.  In other words, you’ve got no excuse, lame or otherwise.

That doesn’t mean people won’t make them.  One online discussion on the topic had this take:  “I think the problem is we are all so over scheduled that we no longer appreciate…being considered! We resent having one more thing to do”.  Well, that’s pretty shitty.  You resent my invitation?  “Well how about this- Suck it! You’re off the list Miss Popular Pants!” (An empty threat if ever there was one.  We all have, like, 400 facebook “friends” and 750 followers on Twitter, but try getting 10 of them together for one night?  Pfffft.) 

Maybe we are over-committed.  If so, it’s a sad commentary on modern society.   When you were in college and went to a party, you brought what you planned to drink or ponyed up some cash for the keg.  You were lucky if there were Doritos.  Then came the pot-luck dinners.  Also, pretty easy considering all you do is bring one thing, and get to eat, like, six.

But, as you got older and got invited to someone’s house for dinner, you began to notice how most of the time it was completely on the host to provide snacks, beverage, dinner and –gasp- dessert, too?  All that was required of you was to bring a small token of your appreciation (a.k.a. host gift); and it never hurt to ask if you could contribute in any way, even if the answer was “no thank you”.  So, let’s review:  free dinner, free booze, small thank you- and you can’t even reply “yes or no”??

No soup for you!

I’ve always tried to treat an invite like the puck in a hockey game, and I’m the goalie: as soon as it comes in, I shoot it back out.  The longer I wait, the more unlikely it is I will attend.  And, I’m as guilty as the next person of leaving the puck in the net.  But, some people are habitual non-responders.  It reaches the point of seeming like the radio silence is because a commitment could be detrimental to the recipient if something better comes up.  Well now, aren't we popular?  I’ve tried using the oh-so-hip text message invite, not even requesting an RSVP.  After all, most people reply to texts, even if abbreviated.  But, then there’s that awkward silence that follows and you wonder if you texted the right person or some errant communications satellite instead.  And you can pretty much predict the replies that will come once the event is over.  “So tired, crashed early.”  “My phone was off”.  “Solar flare took out my 3G service.” 

Perhaps the biggest conundrum associated with this phenomenon is the person who doesn’t RSVP but shows up anyway.  There can be no possible explanation for this, other than Alzheimer’s.  Now, before you go getting all sensitive, I’m serious.  A condition that affects memory is a legit excuse for not responding to an invite.  NOT having that condition is NOT an excuse.  You slap on a tie and roll up with a smile and an appetite, but it never occurs to you everyone is looking at you like you rose from the dead in fishnets and a boa?  And who is it awkward for?  Well, obviously not you.  In the mean time, a furtive scrambling goes on trying to make it look like you are finally here and the party can start.  

No, I’ve given this a lot of thought.  Even if you allowed for percentages of people who don’t reply, the numbers are still way off.  One of the easiest invites to reply to is the kids’ party invite.  “Thanks for invite, prior engagement, blah blah blah” and you’re done.   But, you have no idea- or maybe I’m preaching to the playground- how many people can’t even slap that one back.  “Reply by” dates on written invites help only a fraction.  And leaving two numbers and an email address to reply should increase the odds.  Yet, some people just have a block.

It’s enough to make you want to go all Samuel L. Jackson on someone’s ass.

I favor a more direct, blunt approach.  “PLEASE RESPOND TO THIS INVITE OR THIS PARTY/DINNER/EVENT WILL BE CANCELLED DUE TO INCOSIDERATION ON THE PART OF THE ATTENDEES.”  

Soup anyone?

Happy Thanksgiving

Gold in the Air of Summer

Kings of Convenience "Gold in the Air of Summer"

A Table is Worth a 1000 Words

Pierre Bonnard "A Table in the Country"  1913

Cool It

Stop what you're doing right now, and have some ice cream.

Happy Mother's Day

Randomonium

Sometimes I miss Facebook.  Sometimes.  I ditched it last year in the Spring after an epiphany.  The epiphany was more like the blunt realization that I was wasting huge amounts of time.  But, I enjoyed writing posts that weren't necessarily part of a thesis or blog topic, per se.  Random, opinionated observations.  And so, here are some recent ones.

Upon launching the newly revamped website for DelawareOnline.com, the first bolded, marquee headline of our illustrious local news source read, "Was Lyndsay Lohan's Dress Appropriate for Court"? This, of course, during the historic tumult in the Middle East. "Well," I thought, "at least we're rid of that annoying-as-shit Horizon Heating and Plumbing ad that scrolls up and down like a yo-yo every single time you move your cursor, much less move it over the ad."  In comparison, that ad seemed harmless compared now to the one Horizon has graduated to:  the full-on, top of the page, gradual unfolding ad banner that even folds back up slowly when you hit "close".  Like one Facebooker said of Delaware Online website:  they have more pop-ups than a porn site.

Current favorite random t-shirt

Today, it was a marvelous high of 70 degrees in Wilmington!  We've had a nice little run, actually, of warm days this week.  But, it was today's weather that actually helped the City of Wilmington regain what has to be about 20% of it's parking.  Granted, there are still some major icebergs, but mostly in major parking lots where there is, well- major parking.  But, Trolley Square was starting to resemble a Third World country with streets more suited for tram cars.  What is it about snow that turns normal, college-educated people into complete and total idiots?  

I'm really digging the new show on the Independent Film Channel, Portlandia. Most people I've talked to have heard of it.  I read a little blurb about it last month and decided to give it a shot.  Having never been to Portland, I have spent more than a fair-share of latte time hanging out with people who lived there.  Let's just say, it's dead on.  Created by and starring Fred Armisen and Carrie Brownstein, it's a half-hour of random characters and situations that poke fun at the infinitely pokable Portlandites.  (Is it me, or is President Obama actually starting to look more like Fred Armisen?"  Anyone who nails a restaurant meme like they did, I'm gonna watch more.

One of the episodes has a cameo by singer Aimee Mann, who plays herself as Fred and Carrie's housekeeper.  Now, I love me some Aimee Mann, but the timing was uncanny, as this week, the refurbished Queen Theatre in Wilmington along with WXPN World Cafe Live announced Mann will play in April!  What could possibly not be any cooler is that the other day while in the car with my 4 year old daughter, I was playing Til Tuesday's "Rip in Heaven"; she sat quietly and listened to it in its entirety, and then asked if I would play it again.  Now we listen to it every day.  She has a great ear, that one. ( BTW, for a great laugh, click on the link above to watch Dave Letterman introduce TT in the late 80s on his show.  Aimee?  HOT.  Dave?  Not so much.)

Speaking of hot blonds from the 80s:  Debbie Harry and Blondie have a new album coming out this year, Panic of Girls. They've announced tour dates for Europe, as well. 

In Lambertville, New Jersey sits a little restaurant that has to be one of my favorite places, Hamilton's Grill Room.  I'm not going to tell you stories about the food, atmosphere or times I've eaten there.  Go there yourself and try it.  But, what I do want to talk about is a local artist who captures one of my favorite genres in painting, en plein air.  Robert Beck of Buck's County, PA exquisitely captures the feel of an open restaurant kitchen, crowded terrace or dining room, including those of Hamilton's.  His is the kind of painting that makes you want to climb in, order a drink and let the buzz of a place build. It's like a snapshot of a time you wish you had spent.  Please visit his site, but more than that, go visit his gallery and say, "hello".  And stop at The Boathouse for a drink, while you're at it.

No. 9 Kitchen  by Robert Beck

Phillies fever is really starting to take hold for me, now.  It's so nice to be able to pick and choose articles about the players readying for the 2011 season while ignoring the elephant in the room, if you choose to.  For those sports writers outside of Philadelphia, there is nothing else to talk about other than the Phils' boning their season despite the once-in-a-lifetime pitching rotation.  I"m not even going to speculate.  But, I'll say this:  I like their chances.  

This was fun.  Let's do it again, soon...

Opus, Where Have You Gone?

Is it me, or are people becoming nastier?  Less patient, more paranoid.   Where is their lust for life?  Doesn't anyone remember the kumbaya of "Our Time in Eden" by Mother Earth herself, Natalie Merchant?  Or the little books urging us to not sweat the small stuff, to learn from our Kindergarten experiences and embrace the Eckhart Tolle that is supposed to reside in all of us??

When you go through a cycle of surreal circus news like we've had the last few weeks- celibate, creationist witches for Congress, bullying teens turn suicide tragedy, modern-day Red Scare politics, gay-bashing, and a general paranoia among people- you long for an island of sanity to escape to.  (Although I confess a little grumpiness of my own; e.g. I can't even enjoy my Phillies in the playoffs because FOX and TBS manage to turn the great Fall Classic into a gimicky, dumbed down, American League-leading Yank-fest, with vapid commentary.)  It all calls for a steady and consistent IV drip of common sense, sarcasm, irony and wisdom. A tonic to help the masses look less like asses.  For me, the daily and Sunday comic, Bloom County used to be that bromide.  No- religion.  Opus, where have you gone?

This isn't your ordinary pine-for-the-days-of-old kind of post.  I don't need the "that was then this is now speech".  Bloom County was timeless- like the Beatles or Roald Dahl books.  

Each delicately crafted character held a collection of human hopes, dreams, frailties, and flaws.  And, yes- anxieties!  Who can forget Michael Binkley's closet?  Spawned from normal kid fears of things that go bump in the night, Binkley's closet became a hilarious stage for the freakiest of pop culture icons to strut and fret upon.  Tammy Faye Baker, Jesse Helms, Richard Simmons and Milton Friedman were some of the more memorable fodder to hit the strip.  Soviet Premier Yuri Andropov (how long did he live as president?) and Cuban Leader Fidel Castro showed up one night to haunt Binkley, but it turned out they had the wrong closet- it was supposed to be Ronald Reagan's. 

Bloom County held a cast of mini-eggheads (both human and woodsy animal-type) who knew more about philosophy, politics, etiquette, love and hardship than their adult counterparts.  The womanizing Steve Dallas was getting dumped on more regularly than a daisy in a cow pasture, that is, until he was captured by aliens and turned into a feminist.  Binkley's single dad showed all the hardships and frustrations of being a single parent during toddlerhood.  Cutter John, the soft-hearted but passionate wheelchair bound friend of the Bloomies led high-speed excursions on his wheel chair through the meadow on the USS Enterpoop.  Any reference or connection to Star Trek, it seems, is guaranteed acceptance among the general comic reading public (see: Comicon for proof). Because we can all laugh.

We all understood the constantly frazzled Bill the Cat: we've been there.  It is uncertain whether he was left that way by some drug experiment (or experimental drug!) or whether he was simply toting an extra chromosome around.  He's been a televangelist, a cult leader, a presidential candidate and a rock star, all supporting the theory that crazy is as crazy does.  Just look at the aforementioned week of news topics.  Either way, his trademark "ACK!" has many a day summed up my feelings of life as a cat in an adult world. 

But perhaps the one we could all fondly relate to was the neurotic, bowtie wearing penguin, Opus.  Often mistaken for an iguana, he was given to fits of shouting loud declarations calling for fairness, common sense and acceptance of the absurd.  His late night habit of ordering from infomercials and an addiction to herring showed the imperfect side of us all.  His frequent chats with "the sky", from the safe haven of Bloom Meadow, mirrored American existentialist feelings in a rapidly developing world of technology and rapidly declining morals.  Searching for something he couldn't have or long lost (in his case, his mother) was the common thread through the strips' years, though he did achieve satisfaction in the end.  Opus was more than the underdog.  He was "someone" we could lean on in uncertain times (which seemed to be ever present).  He was a panacea. 

Just like other rebirths, spin-offs and imitations (even if by the original creator), Bloom County was more than the sum of its parts.  And, now more than ever, we could use a daily dose or two of the silliness.  Quoted in the late 70s about his newly minted comic, creator Berkely Breathed said, "As I see it, the world is getting more dangerous. But of course it's getting funnier proportionately, hence a mixed blessing. Clearly this decade is in need of some serious analysis on the comic pages."  

Timeless, I say.  Timeless.

How it all Started

"This young man is 11 months old- and he isn't our youngest customer by any means.  For 7-Up is so pure, so wholesome, you can even give it to babies and feel good about it. 
...By the way, Mom, when it comes to toddlers- if they like to be coaxed to drink their milk, try this: Add 7-Up to the milk in equal parts, pouring the 7-Up gently into the milk.  It's a wholesome combination- and it works!"  excerpts of actual copy- R

Who Wants to be a Restaurateur?!

Good evening and welcome to "Who Wants to be a Restaurateur?!"  It's the show that asks the difficult questions when contemplating the long, hard and maddening road to restaurant ownership.

Tonight, please welcome our contestant, Ted from Tampa!  Ted is a Virgo and has seven years of restaurant work under his belt, with "a little catering experience" on the side.  He loves barbecue and "the excitement" of a busy night in the biz.  Ted's lifelong dream is to open his own restaurant- and now- with the help of our jaded- er, um- accredited questioning team, we're going to give Ted his big shot!  Are you ready?  GREAT!  Let's go!

First question comes from Enzo.  Enzo ran two busy trattorias in Brooklyn for 27 years before he sold them and got into home appliance sales. 

Enzo: "Ted- what makes you think you've got the cahones to run a restaurant of your own, eh?!"
Ted: "Whuh- uhh- well- I'm - I like the business.  A lot!  And, I make a killer tiramisu!  Also, my friend's dad is a wicked carpenter, and he said he would help build the bar if I pay him in beer."
Enzo: "You gonna last five minutes, you puton! Pack up your knives and getta the hell out!!"
Ted: "HUH?"
Uhhh- Enzo, you're on the wrong set.  Two doors down, please!  Sorry about that Ted!
Ted: "Did I get it wrong?" 


Okay- just a reminder, on "Restaurateur", scoring is done silently and tabulated after all questions have been answered.  So, with that- let's move on to our next questioner.  Please welcome Tammy.  Tammy is the oldest living server in the US.  She's been around since before Baked Alaska was even a state! Tammy?

Tammy: "Listen, hon;  Server roights have been stomped on for years by young punks like you!  We work hard for our tips and pantywaists like you come along and try to get us to pool our tips?!  What do you intend to do about adding an automatic 20% to the check of anyone with an accent? And most importantly, what are you going to do about making cigarette breaks part of the standard work shift for all?!
Ted: "I'm for it?"
Tammy: "Bulls#*t!"



Okay! Thanks, Tammy! Watch your step, there!
Next question comes from Rain. Rain is a vegetarian from Newport and author of the book, "Eating OUT: The New Feminism, Lesbianism Vegetarianism Manisfesto." 

 
Rain: "Hello, Ted, if that's your real name..."
Ted: "...?..."
Rain:"...the combined effects of greenhouse gasses, carbon footprints, over-fishing, over-farming, genetically engineered crops, not to mention the use of veal, foie gras and cod sperm on menus is ruining the fabric of our nation!  What responsibility will you take as owner of your new restaurant to ensure a return to the days of hands-off, plain, old-fashioned gathering and gardening?  Preferably naked."
Ted: "Well, let's see.  I've got a great portobello burger that is made with facon? You know- fake bacon?  And- well- I'll make sure we have enough salads, too."
Rain:"Next!"
Ted: "Oh- and tofu cheddar fries!"
Rain: "NEXT!!"


Ho, HO! Wow- it's heating up in the kitchen, huh??!  BooYAH! Ted, you look a little perspired.  Everything ok? Would you like a Fresca?

Ted:  "Nah- I'm good, man.  Keep going."
Okay! Please welcome our next questioner! A wine collector from Berkley, Preston is also chairman of the group "Sommeliers with Sass".  Are you ready?  Heeeeere's Preston!

Preston:  "Yes. Hi, Ted.  Love the sneakers.  Very retro.  Anyway, my question is a multiple choice.  Can you deal?  Okay- here goes:  What is the most appropriate choice for beverage with sole meuniere?  Is it:
a.  sauvignon blanc
b.  Cosmopolitan
c.  gin and bitter lemon
d. Zima, or
e. none of the above?"
Ted: "Can I use a lifeline?"
There are no lifelines in restaurants, Ted- just overdraft protection!
Ted: "Damn.  Well, I'm gonna hafta say 'a': sauvignon blanc."
Preston" "EhhhhhT! No silly- it's 'E'!  Sole Meuniere is so 1970s!"

Ahhhhhh- GOOD ONE, Preston! 
Okay- this is where things kick into high gear, Ted.  Our next question comes from George.  George is the president and CEO of the accounting firm of Dewey, Cheetham and Howell.  George is going to test your restaurant math savy.  By telling George some basic information about your dream restaurant, he's going to attach a price tag and performance percentage rate to your future endeavor.  Ladies and gentleman- please welcome George!
George: "Ted, how many seats do you plan on having?"
Ted: "Well, I was thinking like 90?"
George: "LIKE 90- or 90?"
Ted: "90. Final answer- 90."
George: "Fast food, casual, semi-casual, destination or fine dining?"
Ted: "I was thinking on the casual side."
George: *Sigh* Average entree price?"
Ted: "I wanna keep it real, so- probably in the $15 to $18 range."
George:"Okay.  Leasing or construction?"
Ted: "Whatever I can get."
George: "We'll say lease, then.  City or suburbs?"
Ted: "Aw, snap! City- city, all the way!"
George: "Okay- you're going to need a building about 3500 square feet.  Assuming you start from scratch- and most people DON'T- we'll say you need around $100,000 in equipment, bare bones.  You're going to need fryers, range tops, ovens, refrigerators, freezer, grease trap, storage racks, a broiler and heck- throw in a steamer for Rain.  I'll give you a modest food inventory of $10,000.  I assume you're going to do this properly and have a decent wine list.  Inventory: $12,000.  Proper storage and temperature control is a must.  That's gonna run ya!  Bar inventory and construction...$25,000..."
Ted: "Wait, my friend's dad..."
George: "Ok- I forgot.  $24,000.  If you're gonna do table cloths, linens need to be in the budget.  Unless you go the paper placemat route- but, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt.  Table cloths, napkins, aprons and bar towels...what thread count?"
Ted: "Thread- count?"
George: "Poly-cotton blend or Egyptian cotton?"
Ted: "I..."
George: "Don't interrupt. You'll need plates, silverware, glassware and take-out containers.  That reminds me- menus.  You'll need a copier.  A good one.  Color is the way to go.  Do all your printing in-house, save on costs.  Office equipment: computer, fax, phone system, desk- yadda, yadda, yadda. Whatabout reservations?  Are you gonna go with an online system?  Don't answer.  There's a system installation fee, plus the monthly maintenance costs.  Each reservation made on your website cost you $.25, each made on theirs costs $1.  Business cards, letterhead and website design.  You'll need marketing software-  I mean you probably can't afford advertising right off- so, do your own newsletter, but do it right, for Christ's sake!  E-blast, baby.  Opening parties are always free- so count on dropping some duckets on those babies.  I think it's safe to say you're not the polished type when it comes to words, so... I recommend a press agent.  You'll want to join the National Restaurant Association, the local restaurant association, the chamber of commerce, the neighborhood association and the recycling bank.  We'll just put that under "dues".  Plan on writing a check to ASCAP if you intend to play any music whatsoever.  That reminds me: pests.  You can't run the risk that someone will see even so much as a fruit fly, it's instant death; so you're going to have to get pest control.  Landscaping.  Logoed mints.  Floral budget.  Candles or lamp fuel.  Gift cards and high chairs.  Paper and chemical supply.  Garbage pickup.  Security system, point of sale system, soda system, draft beer system and cleaning service.  Refrigeration, HVAC, equipment maintenance, liability insurance, loss of business insurance, terrorism insurance, liquor license, utilities..."

BooYaH!  CHA-CHING, Baby!

George: "Shush.  Loan repayment, rent, payroll, payroll taxes, FICA, SUTA, worker's comp, accountant, lawyer- do you like your landlord? Better get a good lawyer, just in case.  Charities call on you about three times a week for donations; better plan on choosing a "cause" if you don't wanna look like a dick.  Manager, assistant manager, chef, sous chef, kitchen staff, bartenders, servers, bus person, dishwashers- they need to eat, and you should consider a benefits package of some sort.  You're the man, now- so act like it.  Which reminds me, I hope you've got some coin saved up- you shouldn't pay yourself for the first year, at least.  Hey, are you listening?  Comps, theft and breakage- there's THAT ugly side to deal with.  Okay- getting in to the home stretch here, Teddy.  The national average you profit on every dollar you bring in is between .07 and .12.  Now, that said, you'll want to put everything you clear back into the business so you'll be around the second year- if there is a second year.  Oh that reminds me- did you say you have catering experience?"

We're gonna take a short break and be right back after these messages.  Hey, can someone get Ted a Fresca?  He really doesn't look very good.