Calamity Shazaam in the Kitchen

I cannot order a sandwich freestyle and I cannot make a good salad.  Everytime I stand in front of a sandwich menu I lose my mind a little. "Oooh pickles, I like pickles! And onions, ooh and smoked turkey, ahh yes I also like ham, olives - why not? Mustard? Chutney? Delicious! Add some provolone and cheddar please! Oh yes, toast it too!" Grody.  This is why sandwiches disappointment me A LOT. Like today I ordered a roast beef with mustard, mayo, lettuce, onions, on a toasted bulkie roll. While that doesn't sound bad, let me tell you the toasted bulkie was all kinds of wrong wrapped around cold, rare meat.  Blech! I have a similar approach to salads: a little bit of everything, only nothing that goes together. Just stuff I know that I like -  hard boiled eggs and dried cranberries and cottage cheese and beans and chicken and cold pasta and sliced beets and feta cheese and chickpeas and shredded carrots and broccoli florets.  Then I panic because it's a salad...

Yes, it is true, if this blog was a child I would be in jail right now. I am the most neglectful blogger. Eh, really it can't be helped though. So much has happened in the past year or so that has really changed my life in unexpected ways, all for the better so far. One big thing has been that I have been renovating my house which eats into most of my free time. I totally underestimated how long and how much this project was going to take, but when it's done it will be awesome. I just know it. Because of all of this, I am merging Shamrag and Calamity Shazaam into one and this too will be awesome. I just cannot manage both but I don't really want to give either up because I am funny and I eat and I think I can do both all in one place. Perhaps I will call this Calamity Shazaamrag In the Kitchen....

In the past few days I have had an awful lot of Snapple Diet Peach tea. More than I care to admit to, but I will just say that I am beginning to smell suspiciously peachy. Better than lemon iced tea I guess.

I am pretty adept at negotiating my way through this world. I suspect this is owing to a healthy curiosity coupled with a peculiar irrationality with regard to my actual abilities. If I can think it, I think I could do it. Although most of the time my imagination far outstrips the execution. Like last night when I figured I could speak Vietnamese. Frankly I have eaten enough Vietnamese food to be able to say that at this point I am a quarter Vietnamese. But as I found out last night none of that quarter is linguistic. Evil Twin and I went to Anh Hong last night. She wanted the spring rolls with crispy wonton skin and grilled ham. Do they have that on the menu? No. Did I let that stop me? No. My friend T-Man is Vietnamese and he orders them all the time. I figured at the very least I could couple the right words together. I know the word for Vietname...

I woke up this morning with the most revolting hangover you can imagine. That's what two bottles of sh*tty white wine between you and a friend will do to a person. I do NOT know what I was thinking. Clearly I was not and I know she wasn't either because she was the one wearing a salad bowl on her head and pretending to drive a chair around the kitchen. You know it is bad when you wake up wondering if you are still drunk... I was a complete wasteoid today. I will have to do better tomorrow. Luckily I had this: Yep, it took three before I could think straight. And this: Coco helping me get my work done. I got to dogsit!! And I am thinking that either a hamburger or a pasta dinner is in my immediate future.

There is a very nice bartender who works at Gaslight . His name is Henry and he is going to be a salt seller one of these days in the near future.  The reason I am telling you this is a) everyone should go to Gaslight, sit at the bar, have a side of fries, and enjoy one of their delicious cocktails ( except for the Pimms Cup which they don't make properly, imho ) and b) Henry might let you taste some of his salt.  You REALLY want some of this salt. It is really, REALLY good stuff. It looks like giant crystalline chunks, but you can easily pulverize it with your fingertips. And the salt tastes like a splash of the ocean on a brilliant blue and sunny yellow summer afternoon.  I am begging him to make a smoky version because I think smoked salt over french fries would be incredible. It is destined to be the next truffle salt.  Mark my words. And buy lots of salt.

The short rib ravioli at Picco are unbelievably delicious.  You should go RIGHT NOW and order them.