Red & White

I used to work at Friday's. We had to wear red and white striped shirts and got scolded if we didnt have enough "flair". Flair was what they called stupid buttons and advert pins to make us stand out, to celebrate our individualism. Which was complete and utter bullshit because no matter how much you did to those stupid shirts you could still plainly see they were red and white striped and we were all exactly the same. Just like the menu. No matter where you go every Friday's you pop into will have the exact same menu, and be running the exact same disgusting frozen drink specials. They call it consistancy, I call it "The End of the World".

Last Saturday I was at a party in the new Wolfgangus Puck restaurant at the Borgata. I couldnt stop thinking about Friday's. It had a better decor, the staff was better, and it is nice to have food so close to a poker table, but Friday's stuck in my head. The place was mobbed. The food was just fine (you have to expect to pay out the wazoo as soon as you give the casino valet your car keys) and the wine list was the same you'd get absolutely anywhere else (only at a 200% mark-up instead of 100%). But it was a TGI Friday's, without the stripes.

I dont have a solution. I'm not even sure it it's a problem. And good for old Wolfie Baby, a good chef with a whole bunch of charisma and now he's an international franchise (ahum... Friday's.. cough cough>. There's something to be said for cranking out a product people seem to want, or think they want, or thought they wanted?

Sending Circles Into the Sky

Every once in awhile there seems to be an abysmal hole in the sky that opens up and pulls you through. Popping out the other side you feel like Captain Kirk as he acclimates himself to his new surroundings; phasers on stun.

The new universe is foreign and the ground is soft beneath your feet, but you know you must walk or risk dying of stagnation. Of all the deaths, stagnation has got to be the worst. Being eaten by a shark would imply you set out on the ocean with great anticipations of fun and adventure. The same would can be said had you perished in a plane crash. Now I know you could be on the plane for some stupid meeting in Detroit, but let's just say for the sake of this blog you were going to Tahiti, cuz I think at one time that was some sort of hot-spot destination (I'm not even exactly sure where Tahiti is). Dying en route is far more sexy than dying cuz you were afraid or indecisive about moving forward. That's just sad. Even more sad than if you were to survive a plane crash in the ocean only to be eaten by a shark.

Sometimes we feel like we're dying. Even though there is no obvious cause. Sometimes we know what's best, but we hide from it knowing full well it's the only way. Taking the bull by the horns doesnt sound too good to us, so we dont.

(NOTE: The girl in the photo is in no way related to my stupid rant. I just wanted something to cheer me up.)

Here's the Best thing about Mikki

She's in love with Ross. Ross is in love with her. It's actually kind of nice to see people making it happen.

We went to Pazzo Pazzo in MoTown on Thursday night. Lots of pretty folks (and lots of Jersey Idiot Morons), and it was so thick you needed a little piece of bread to soak it all up. Mikki is what you could call a "facilitator". She puts people together. She's not shy, and she inherently knows how to have a good time. It was something she was born with, and being a rockstar on the NYC party people circuit enabled her to hone her skills. It's always fun to roll with Mikki.

We met some Pharma cats who just couldnt help but speak to each other in German. Hayden was from Iceland and spoke a whole bunch of languages and I suspect was a little put off by me and Ross being so familiar and what he had to think was crude (fork 'em). It was hawt as balls outside but they wanted to smoke so we dealt. I was enjoying the moment and told Mikki (like an asshead) that I liked Ross better, and that set her off. She's getting sick of bringing her boys into the fold only to have them run off and develop non-sexual crushes on her future husband.

She's a girl and they like attention and if you even insinuate that it might be threatened they throw shit-shows and if you're vested you had best step up and fix it or you wont have a Mikki no more.

And that's how the story goes. Forgive the vague Bjork reference, I couldnt help it. I loved the sugarcubes and always will. Some monkey jerkoff gave me crap for having Depeche Mode's "Policy of Truth" as my text ringtone on Wednesday at poker. He said it was "gay". He and I ended up splitting the pot that night, had I not been 6 beers through and in the land of VOZ, I would have handed him his ass head's-up.

Moral of the story? I have no idea.

This will be our last goodbye

But you dont care,

so I wont cry.

This is actually my second attempt at this post. My first was scathing and was basically a lash out at the guy who hosts Park and Orchard in Rutherford, New Jersey. I went to click the "publish post" command and got an error message, then went back to an empty screen. My friend Mikki says it's destiny and the way it's supposed to be, and she's smart so I'll just let it go.

I'd be lying if I told you he didnt have a powerful negative impact on what was otherwise an awesome night, so I wont. But I will tell you about what is ordinarily one of New Jersey's very best restaurants.

Park and Orchard must have been an auto body or gas station or something in it's past lifetime.

But now it cranks out fresh and unique meals to people who all seem to really appreciate it. Like any great restaurant anymore there's still the mangagalupe in shorts and a Tshirt, but for the most part people dress appropriately and the atmosphere is very crisp, very clean, and downright delicious.

I come here for lunch whenever possible. It's a little less crowded and I love lunch. Italians live their worlds around lunch, it's a nice way to live. Park and Orchard lives it's life to be different from the other restaurants that have found success in one of the most competitive (and densely populated) food service markets in the world. They've succeeded, and they've done so on their own terms.

I could mention the Grand Award they got from WS. But who cares. It means nothing.

What I will mention is that this guy has the stones to put wines on the list he wants his guests to enjoy. There are the standards, but then there's a whole bunch of stuff you've never heard of. Right up my alley. Buddy would like my wine list, I should send it to him. You could put just about any of my producers in a room with him and he'd probably come away with a new best friend. But that's the beauty of my winemakers, they're actually people.

We only had time for appetizers since we were going to be late for the show by the time we got sat, but they were remarkable. Some mussels, some stuffed mushrooms, a little tomato salad, plate of fresh mozz with the balsamic you pay a whole bunch for, the carpaccio.... everything was nice. The chick who got our table was a little bit in the weeds, but she was stellar, and her colleagues stepped right in to help her out (they were less busy... hmm?). We ate, we paid, we raced to the Meadowlands and saw the Police. Missed two or three songs, but whatever. It was fun. I made a new friend that night, got to see one of the bands that made up the soundtrack of my teens, and didnt get arrested. Overall.... a success.

Tourists Don't Know Where They've Been

And Travelers don't know where they're going.

If you had a choice to go anywhere; where would it be?

If someone or something came down (or up) out of nowhere and granted you the freedom to launch off to a place you've never been, where would you chose?

I dunno either. Brasil comes to mind first (for obvious reasons). I'd also like to take in Scandanavia. Especially now while it's 100degrees here in NY. I hear it never gets above 76 in Copenhagen, and that sounds like Heaven right about now.

With all the options the world presents it would be impossible to pinpoint where exactly the ideal adventure would be. If you developed the inner thirst to wander the earth, would that put you that much closer to God? My God has told me more than once she'd prefer I ventured into myself to find the answers to the questions I frequently ask. I try all the time, but always seem to come up remarkably short. Where there is clarity and feeling would be my ideal destination. Is that a place that can be reached by plane?

My role over the years has changed dramatically. The floundering (bouncing on the dry dock desperately seeking life/water/oxygen) has numbed my ordinarily good senses and dignity.

It begs the simple question; should I hit the road?

All New.... All The Time

Two new producers added to the list this week. The first, KitFox, is a little larger than the standard AVAWine.com winery, but the story and passion were there so we went ahead and posted them. It's an interesting story (the Vogel Family), I strongly suggest you check them out.

The second is Fantesca. Husband and wife team with the passion caught deep. They realize some expert help would go a long way, and they go out and get a father and son outfit that now produces stuff they can proudly put their names on. Classic but familiar story, although the ending never bores me.

Have a look for yourself, and if you have the means I strongly suggest you pick up a few bottles.

Die Harder.. and Stay Dead

We all do things for money. And if the thing you have to do will gross you $50million dollars, it's going to have to be pretty gruesome for you not to do it. I think we can all agree on that, so I wont spend any more time trying to make that point.

Die Harder with a Vengeance has such a thin plot and is just a series of big-time unrealistic explosions. He "kills" a helicopter with a squad car, he runs an Expedition from a parking deck into the heart of a closely guarded command center that serves the Northeast Region's water supply. That scene was the first of many that had me checking to see where the exits were.

They forget to make the movie interesting or believable, me thinks. Just throw a bunch of cool fights and chases and "bah booms" and John T. Normal will marvel in delight. A shame. A shame along the same lines as the Jerry Springer show. How can the guy who made the first Die Hard want anything to do with this one? $50million dollars, that's how.

Hudson House Inn

This place reminds me of something. It reminds me of a very successful uncle that reached his peak, and is now coasting his way into his twighlight. There must have been a time when the kitchen at Hudson House bustled with new energy and excitement, but now it's just churning out plates and enjoying it's reputation.

Worse things can happen to a restaurant and Inn on the banks of the Hudson river. You've got a view of West Point, a very quaint town square and developed public space on the water across the street. The staff works their tails off, and when they go back next year to finish High School, they'll have a high end joint to put on their applications to the CIA in Poughkeepsie. Let me tell you it's still worth the trip.

The menu reads like 1999. The plaques on the walls confirm your suspicion. The food is fresh and the wine list is just a little better than garden variety crap you get an hour or so south in NYC. I went mid level with an Arrowood 2004 Cabernet Sauvignon. We featured Arrowood one month two years ago for our wine club, our comment box didnt overflow with praise or complaints. It's nice they found a national distributor. It's lame they sold out.

If you know a master chef who isnt living up to his potential, or someone with mad money who wants to park it in an ideal location, you should reach out to the owners of HH. I dont know their situation, but a breathe of fresh air might be the key to restoring this hidden gem.

"Dish" Red Bank New Jersey

This doesnt have to be a long post. This restaurant was expensive, and the food was good.

It's in a good location, in a cool town, and they're BYOB. I brought a Bourassa Carneros Chardonnay, and that was the gold brick of the evening.

Started with mussels.. they were ok. A tad cool, but they made them for me without garlic so I just ate them. I had the Tuscan Stew for an entree. A whole bunch more mussels, a few pieces of shrimp, and a scallop or two. There might have been a clam in there, nothing popped. It wasnt bad, but I think by the time the two person waitstaff started to rush us (and two other tables) out the door, I had forgotten what I had eaten.

My guest had some sort of pasta. I remember mostly that it was almost $30 and had something to do with strangling a member of the clergy for a name. She picked at it, so did I. Whatever.

Not going back to Dish. There are zillions of other dining options in this town, and if I'm going to spend $100 at a BYOB, you're going to let me sit there until I've closed the deal.

When the Music's Over

I realize the above photo has little to do the final espisode of "The Sopranos", but this character from season 1 (episode 12) has always stuck in my mind. She represented so many things, and all of them good.

Last night's finale. Interesting. Lots of stuff. Everybody who guessed, was wrong. I was wrong (see previous blog post). I was pretty certain I was going to be right, but I was really wrong. Just like everyone else.

Ok, enough of the stutter point writing style, I'm sick of it. I want to make some observations. Did anyone notice Paulie's rant about Cat's.. and how they suck the life out of babies? Then the cat sits and stares at Chris Moltinsanti's picture all day? Any connection to Tony sucking the life out of Chris? How about the guy in the Trucker Cap in Holstein's diner in the final scene? I couldnt help but think about Frank Whaley's incredible performance with Danny Devito and Jack Nicholson in "Hoffa". Waiting at the edge of your seat as Meadow tried to park her IS250... try and tell me you werent going out of your head. I was.

I always had this guilty obsession with The Sopranos. Obviously I lived my life around Sunday nights for the past 8 years, but at the same time I resented the free association people would make with all of us with the vowel on the end of our name from New Jersey. I suppose you have to take the good with the bad. I always charged them with being criminals, and not people to idolize, but they're also just putting on a play.. and you always sympathize with people you know.... you just can't help it.

I'm not sure if I'm glad it's over. I dont know what to feel. The ending with "Dont Stop Believin" by Journey.. and then no music with the credits. What's that about? Come to your own conclusions? Move on with your life? Who knows. David Chase is a nut. Now he's made history, I'm sure his parents are very proud.

The Stage House

The Stage House in Scotch Plains New Jersey could be considered an "oak". It's housed in a building so old it still has the bollards with hooks to tie your horse, while you go inside for some of the best food in Union County.

Now, let's be honest. Union County (despite it's proximity to NYC and obscene wealth) is not a hotbed of culinary excellence. It's disappointing, but true. We could only hope for more restaurants on par with the Stage House. Tom Britt (formerly of the mighty "The Frog and the Peach" in NB) has continued the long tradition of this NJ staple with overseeing a superior waitstaff (dont get me started about the hostess), and by supporting the truely talented kitchen master Eric Hambrecht. I dont know Chef Hambrecht, but his reputation is stellar and consistent.

You can tell a restaurant is great by all the great chef's who list it on their resume's. The Stage House can be found on some of the Garden State's most powerful resumes. It's always seemed, to me, to be a launchpad for great careers. I can name 5 killers off the top of my head who have their own showcase restaurants, all of whom speak fondly of their training at this particular restaurant.

I'll get to the details. I had ravioli of short ribs with peas and mushrooms that wanted for nothing. An excellent first course. For an entree I went again with the braised Beef Ribs that worked perfectly with my appetizer, as a different preperation on what had to be a special piece of meat. This course had the delicate sweetness of pomegranate and red cabbage that I thoroughly enjoyed. I only chose it over a seafood selection because of the wine we were drinking, I didnt want to change gears mid-meal. I wont mention the brand (as it doesnt deserve to be printed), but let's just say it was typical, but not awful.

My guest had to be pushed into trying the gnocchi (which is ricotta based instead of the traditional flour creation I grew up with), and she almost got to finish it alone. Her Tuna entree was good, but I'm anxious to see the next stage of Tuna creations. It's about time this ingredient had a breakthrough.

Overall, The Stage House doesnt need any help. They know what they're doing and only get better each year. They have a tavern and an outside seating area that rocks 3 seasons (heatlamps allow us to continue to enjoy the outdoors deep into the Fall). I cant think of a better alternative in the Westfield/Summit/Scotch Plains corridor, and if you havent found it already, I strongly recommend it.

False Idols

I dont have a lot of idols. There are some people that I admire, but idolatry I usually save for unattainable women, or cars I strive to one day have in my garage. People, in my opinion, do not deserve to be idolized. We're all guilty of something, we all have a skeleton somewhere in a closet or under some bed.

Sometimes when I hear people talking about Tony Soprano, it makes me mad. They have such respect and sympathy for a sociopathic murderer, whose moral compass was probably broken before he even entered his teenage years. It also angers me when some asshead, with whatever sliver of Italian ancestry, lightly infers a possible connection to La Cosa Nostra. Like it's a badge of honor to have an uncle who kills, steals, intimidates, or wears a tracksuit all day. Get a job already, any moron can be a criminal.

I was speaking on the phone this afternoon to my lifelong friend Joe. I've known Joey since I can remember, and both our dad's were the kind of men who got their dead asses out of bed every morning and set out to make an honest living to raise their rapidly growing families (not to mention provide for the expensive tastes of both our mothers). These guys had tremendous responsibility, and never buckled. If they needed something, or suffered a failure, they just worked harder. If you're going to idolize somebody, these are much better candidates.

I'm going to print my prediction of the demise of Tony Soprano. I've been saying it out loud for years, but people just dont seem to remember. Tony Soprano is going to jail. He's not going to slither through the bars like a Gigante or even "Uncle Junior", he's going to the can..... like Gotti.
He's going to get booked, tried, and then convicted. Probably because one of the younger meatheads gets a parking ticket and sings like a bird. The last scene is going to be him being ushered into his cell, orange jumpsuit covering his gorilla body, he's going to turn dramatically back towards the camera and sit on the bed that's built into the concrete wall. Then they're going to close the door. Good.

Tater Salad at the Taj Mahal

Saw Ron White last night at the Taj in Atlantic City. Ron White is one funny cat.

Very little material was familiar... and his new stuff was rock solid.

It really makes you think about commitment and dedicating yourself to your craft.

The sum total of failure this guy must have had before he made it to a point where he could make a living must have been amazing. His big break came after Jeff Foxworthy broke through, and took Ron along with him to open his shows. Which seems to sort of be the catalyst for the "Blue Collar Comedy Tour" series. You really dont know when/where/how the tipping point will come about, but if you keep at it, sometimes it happens.

We're waiting for our tipping point here at www.avawine.com . Maybe we can open a show or two for Larry the Cable Guy. Or a publicity stunt of some type. I'm giving it major thought.

Greetings from Augusta National

Now, before all you fanatics get excited, I havent yet met Tiger Woods. Although it might happen. Tomorrow night I'm going to an event hosted by Jim Nance, which promises to be fun.

I'm sure the food will be good. Both Tiger and Jim would have to come over to me and introduce themselves, as I'd sooner stick a fork in my eye than join the flock of freaks who hound celebrities and athletes.

I'm down here with Maybach working the event, and so far things are going fairly well. I drew high card and scored the master bedroom in the house we're renting (local people rent their homes out during the Master's week, schools coincide their spring breaks so kids can go too).

I've only had to eat fast food once ( ok twice, but that ends today). And the weather is just about perfect. Northern Georgia is beautiful... that is not to be refuted.

I had to put to sleep my IBM thinkpad laptop. I had her for 5 years. She was a good old girl.

So this is my first blog with my new Toshiba.. it's got all kinds of cool stuff, I'm sure in 5 years I'll figure some of them out.