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Über-chef Laurent Tourondel was in town this week, checking up on his tasty burgers at BLT Burger in the Mirage, and we finally might have had a breakthrough with notre ami. Yes, after years of begging and pleading, we may have finally convinced him to put a malt on the menu to go along with his superior milkshakes.
Why malt, you say?
Because a milkshake without malt is like:
– foie without gras
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We at ELV love burgermeister Hubert Keller, and steak hache impressario Laurent Tourondel is one of our best friends. So consternation and contumaciousness confounds our conscience as we contemplate crowing about Comrade Kerry’s comestibles.
Continue reading “Holy Glasnost Batman! KGB Has Built a Better Burger!”
ELV in the throes of his addiction with two of his favorite dealers.*
(ELV note: Yours truly has a book in him that will probably never be finished or published. Here is one of the chapters.)
“Hi ELV!” is how all those twelve-step programs start, and then they sink into one maudlin account after another of each individual’s slide into personal oblivion. Here’s my story:
It started innocently enough, as all addictions do. In 1982 in Wheeling, Illinois. “The first one’s free,” said Jean Banchet – at the time the celebrated chef/owner of Le Francais (considered at the time the best French restaurant in America). Then, in 1983. Andre Soltner, the dedicated Alsatian running New York’s best French restaurant, made a personal appearance at my table at Lutece. “Just take another hit, no one will notice,” he purred. And so I did.
Oh yeah, and Jacques Pepin — he of the velvet delivery and oh so elfish countenance — he was one, insidious seducer as well. Maybe the worst of them all.