Author: John Curtas

Enough Already….

https://img.buzzfeed.com/buzzfeed-static/static/2014-06/2/16/enhanced/webdr02/enhanced-7635-1401741255-18.jpg

>Sous vide (Face it: everything has the same texture. I don’t give a shit what Thomas Keller says.)

>Salmon anywhere but the Pacific Northwest

>Boneless breast of chicken

>Kale (Admit it: it sucks.)

>Foam anywhere but a Spanish restaurant

>Scallops (They’re everywhere and no matter what a chef does to them, they always taste the same and they’re only on the menu because little old ladies who are afraid of seafood like them. Of course, if they ever saw a fresh one, they’d run away faster than a politician from an ethics board.)

Continue reading “Enough Already….”

A Tale of Two Steakhouses

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only. – A Tale of Two Cities

In short, late 18th Century France wasn’t that different from today. Superlatives are everywhere, no matter how good or evil something is, be it a Reign of Terror, a beheading here or a Donald Trump there,  Whatever “comparisons” are being made — by “noisy authorities these days” — are made not to educate, but to sell.

Continue reading “A Tale of Two Steakhouses”

Waiter, There’s a HERRINGBONE Stuck in My Throat

Sometimes, you just know too much.

There comes a time when there have been too many meals in too many restaurants over too many decades. So many, in fact, that you can take the measure of a place within minutes of sitting down.

You get to where you can see the wheels turning and hear the exact conversations that went into the concept, the menu, and the cooking.

You get to the point where you spot the corporate calculation in every corner, and all you can do is sigh.

Continue reading “Waiter, There’s a HERRINGBONE Stuck in My Throat”