Roll That Beautiful Bean Footage

My best friend Olga came in town to help me celebrate my birthday early.

Two disclaimers about the above photo.
1) That sweater was free from a clothing swap, and looks better on stage than at a fancy restaurant
2) We are college buddies, but in pictures we always look like Rosie O'Donnel and her wife. I'm the Rosie, because I'm a hilarious comedian, and Olga has the child-bearing hips.

We stopped by a trendy Vietnamese restaurant in Tribeca to say hi to her new buddy, the chef de cuisine who is currently competing on a popular reality show. To refrain from being tacky, I will not mention the guy or the place he works. But I hope no one SPIKEs my MAI-tai while I dance to HOUSE music. Because that's the best way to get secrets out of me.

Our handsome host greeted us and offered to select the entire meal for us, since all we could think of to request was napkins and white wine. I will now take you through the fantastic courses, since your last classy meal was the new chicken sandwich at McDonalds.



We began the meal with two salads. Raw Artichoke salad and Spicy Beef Pomelo (with rau ram herb, chile and lime) which tasted simultaneously like miracles and burning. I could have made a meal out of it, if not for the passing out from the intense heat every 12 seconds. A waiter asked, "How is everything, WIMPS?" and when I laughed a huge flame came out of my mouth. His hair stood up straight, his face was blackened, and when he blinked it sounded like two piano keys.

Then out came the Seared Sea Scallops with a very special side of black rice vermicelli...



or as it's more commonly known by my friend Klyde: mouse penis.

It was time to freshen up the drink I hadn't touched, by accompanying it with a Red River house cocktail. (smacking of lips) Do I detect...hibiscus?



We were giggling like children--drunk children--and making eyes at the empty stools of the bar when our entrees arrived.

Roasted Black Cod anyone?



No, I'll have the Ten Spice Baby Back Ribs, thank you.



There was a separate plate of Wok-Seared Asparagus which was so good it deserves its own blog post, but I'm not a vegan, so we'll pretend like it was just a side dish for now.

We didn't want the meal to end, but you don't tell chocolate mousse to wait in the kitchen.


Then God spoke and what materialized in front of me was an almond banana cake with black sesame ice cream on top of a bed of tapioca.



What's that? You're tired of my blurry pictures, and want to SEE the tapioca?



Vietnamese coffee kept us awake and alert, all through a slow train ride and looong walk home, the movie Red Eye, and all its DVD extras.





Celebrating like a wealthy adult was a nice rite of passage into this new age, but unfortunately for us, after chatting with us at our table several times, our chef mysteriously disappeared, so we could not thank him properly. Maybe we shouldn't have told him we were off to watch Red Eye.

FLASHBACK:
We both went to see comedian Godfrey perform at our college once. He welcomed people on stage after the show to meet and greet, and he asked if we knew of any parties. We told him we were off to watch a movie rental from the library. He frowned and said, "Uh...you mean there's a party in the library?" Before you could say sweat pants, two girls in miniskirts pushed us out of the way to give him a deep-tissue massage with their eyes and coo their own private invitation.

So allow me to make up for turning away any potential fans and make a sensual statement of my own: You, me, my place, Red Rivers, mouse genitalia.



Photo credit:
flickr.com/eatingintranslation