Tuesday, August 14, 2012
The Upper West Side’s Power Couple took a road trip for the last few days visiting friends and family in New England. Since several lovely meals were taken in people’s homes, I found myself eating far more salad than usual, leaving me with little to report on. However, on the four-hour drive down from a sylvan lakeside cottage near Harrisville, New Hampshire, I had a revelation. I know how the Republicans can win the presidential election and, since they deserve a chance to resume dismantling American society, I offer this guidance.
Don’t nominate anyone for president. Obama can’t win when compared to nobody. Left and right disdain this Socialist, Muslim tool of Wall Street, leading from behind in world affairs while ruthlessly killing American citizens and innocent civilians by the reckless dispatch of drones, who has a degree from Harvard and a birth certificate from who-knows-where. If the American people don’t have anyone to compare to Obama, they will not reelect him. Dear Republicans, you have come close to not nominating anyone by allowing Mitt Romney to become your leading candidate for the presidential nomination. He believes in nothing and promises no more. However, he exists and thereby has characteristics that will turn off some voters. He is very rich and that might bother the few of us who are not also very rich. He paid “at least 13 percent” in taxes, which might indicate his inability to master our economic system by not paying any taxes at all. He speaks French.
And finally, he is Mormon. Now, I’m the last one to discriminate on religious grounds even if some claim that Mormonism is 19th Century Scientology. As to the underwear, better than a thong. Avoiding Coke and coffee just promises a calm demeanor. Polygamy? One is more than enough. But, did you know that traditionally Mormons referred to all non-believers as Gentiles? That’s it. I’m not voting for anyone who calls me a Goy.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Someone special is two years old today.
The restaurant review in the New York Times today is for Biang!, in Flushing, one subway stop beyond CitiField, the home of the Mets. The reviewer awards one star to this “cleaner, brighter and more modern offshoot” of Xi’an Famous Foods, which started in Flushing. Since I was not going to ride the subway for 50 minutes or so one-way in my one-hour lunchtime, I went instead to Xi’an Famous Foods at 67 Bayard Street, one of my local favorites. On my last visit, with Art Spar, a health inspector entered just as we did, and, while she eventually was satisfied with her inspection, her presence sufficiently disrupted the operation so that we never got anything to eat. No problem today as I ordered spicy cumin lamb noodles ($7), a wonderful dish. The portion was modest, but the flavors are so strong that I came away satisfied. Reminder, when going to Xi’an Famous Foods do not wear light-colored clothing, because most of the sauces are reddish-brown and seek a resting place on textiles.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
It is the middle of a notably hot summer and I naturally want to focus on ice hockey. Not the game played on the rink, but the business of professional ice hockey, the National Hockey League. This comes to mind because of the poor progress of the NHL’s labor-management negotiations as a new season approaches. The league, the owners, proposes that the players take a 24% pay cut, amounting to $450 million annually. The players’ union counter with an offer of a more gentle decline in player salaries over three years, not, as you might expect, an insistence on even higher salaries. The players are willing to cooperate, at least to some degree, because several teams are not economically viable, unable to fill their 18-20,000 seats with any regularity. Of course, team finances, unlike attendance figures, are hidden from the public, so the quality of management cannot be examined with the attention to detail given to the team on the ice. In fact, some of the financially struggling teams have been and remain competitive athletically, even while the owners go around asking for the players and/or the taxpayers to support them.
In other words, these alleged capitalists want nothing to do with classical competition, the purported lifeblood of capitalism. They are another example of “socialism for the rich,” in the apt phrase of John Kenneth Galbraith. While I cannot imagine too many Chinese restaurants in Chinatown, I believe that we have reached the tipping point for NHL teams in the United States, 24 at present of the 30 total. But, asking an owner to fold his professional sports team is unthinkable, although Tower Records and Pan Am and Circuit City and S. Klein and Nedick’s and Walden Books and Digital Equipment Corporation and Davega and ComputerLand and the Automat are all history, succumbing to the pressures of the marketplace (and stinking management in some cases). However, nine NHL teams averaged under 90% home attendance last year, all in the US, five in the Sun Belt, a thoroughly unnatural setting for ice hockey, and likely candidates for corporate welfare. Play on the ice is not the source of all these woes. The New Jersey Devils (Hiss! Boo!) went to the Stanley Cup championship and yet had regular season attendance of 87.4%, 24th of 30 in numbers.
Part of the problem is Commissioner Gary Bettman, who indulges the worst instincts of the owners having presided over two lockouts during his tenure. What the sport needs is a tough manager, unafraid to place efficiency and profits first, willing to allow the weak to sink and the strong to soar, who will not hesitate to outsource to anywhere, even Canada. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mitt Romney.
Friday, August 17, 2012
Friday, August 10, 2012
News Notes
Monday, August 6, 2012
The wit and wisdom of Jeff Boss reappeared on the fence at the
construction site on Chambers Street, between Church Street and
Broadway. It is one of his favorite spots for educating the general
public, as you may observe from the tattered undercoating of his old
posters beneath the current display, which I recorded this morning. He
has been familiar to me, and certainly other New York pedestrians, for
at least the last decade.
Jeff’s stock-in-trade is a wonderfully baroque conspiracy theory
concerning 9/11. Here is the gist of his position as copied from his
web site http://www.jeffbossforpresident.org/:
"I Witnessed a family member my sister in law, high up in the NSA
(National Security Agency) planning the 911 attack. She was talking
about helping Ramsi Yousef (responsible for the 93 bombing at the
World Trade Center) call his uncle Khalid Sheikh Mohammed(considered
the mastermind of the 911 attack) from the NSA secret prison in
Alexandria, VA and she was talking about flying planes into buildings."
Jeff’s desire to expose the truth has led him into running for
president, the Senate, the House of Representatives, the New Jersey
governorship and state senate, with only a few moral victories to show
for it. Of course, his lack of electoral success, he claims, resulted
from the active intervention of the NSA in his various election
efforts. "I have a list of over 100,000+ people who have told me that
when I campaign to them and give them my literature, that the NSA
comes to them right afterwards and threatens to kill them and their
families if they speak up." The NSA has taken other extraordinary
steps to rein Jeff in. "I currently have NSA crews on my floor, above
me, and most of the employees of my building, and residents have been
recruited by the NSA to help the NSA cover up them orchestrating the
911 attack." Jeff has accused them of bugging his car and home, and
even seeking his termination with extreme prejudice. "NSA is putting
devices to give off microwave radiation in my car and through the
walls of my apartment to kill me."
On the other hand, according to Jeff, the NSA has a therapeutic side:
"GEORGE W. BUSH WAS DRUNK AND HIGH ON COCAINE IN THE WHITE HOUSE. IN
ORDER TO GET HIM ELECTED THE NSA HAD TO KILL MANY OF HIS DRUG DEALERS,
GIRL FRIENDS, DOCTORS & ALMOST EVERYONE HE WAS IN THE BETTY FORD
CENTER WITH."
If you wonder why this material appears in this blog, usually more
devoted to epicurean matters than espionage, I found this assertion on
another of Jeff’s web sites: "I CURRENTLY HAVE NUMEROUS CHEFS AND
RESTAURANT WORKERS CONFIRMING THE NSA POISONS FOOD IN THERE
RESTAURANT. THE NSA KILLS HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF AMERICANS A YEAR BY
POISONING THEIR FOOD." Don’t say you weren’t warned.
Even without a stomach pump handy, I marched right into Amazing 66
Restaurant, 66 Mott Street, which I last visited on February 2, 2010.
I had Amoy mei fun then; today, 2 BBQ Honey Quail @ $3.50 each
(minimum order 2). They were very good, lightly breaded and
deep-fried, but not greasy. However, a small bowl of white rice at
$1.25 is, how we say, a bad deal. The restaurant is quite attractive
by local standards and efficiently operated, so maybe I paid more for
intangibles than rice.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
The death of Marvin Hamlisch, 68-years old, was announced this
morning. He may have been a singular sensation in winning Oscars,
Emmys, Grammys and a Tony for his musical accomplishments, but my
appreciation of his music was always influenced by our personal
connection. Marvin’s mother worked for a couple in the fur business in
Vienna before WWII. All of them survived the ministrations of some
Western European Christians, and, in the late 1960s, the couple and
their lovely daughter lived in Los Angeles, as did Marvin,
newly-graduated from Queens College and Juilliard, and already working
on film music. His mother, when visiting from New York, would see her
old friends and suggest a liaison (shiddach) between their children,
since Marvin seemed to have more success meeting producers than cuties
back then. As I understood, Marvin and the statuesque young woman had
a date or two, but, in spite of their shared background, just did not
hit it off. In 1971, two years before Marvin won three Oscars on the
same evening (The Sting and The Way We Were), I met and became
enchanted by that very same woman. Since the setting for these events
was Los Angeles, marriage and divorce followed, even while Marvin went
on to date all sorts of lovelies,win many awards and make a lot of
money. Were there moments subsequently when I cursed Marvin’s early
lack of animal magnetism/sex appeal/chemistry?
Fruit note: Bing cherries are everywhere in Chinatown at 2 lbs. for
$3. However, shrewd shopping along Canal Street turns up 3 lbs. for $4
or even 2 lbs. for $2.50. Of course, you must buy the minimum weight
and picking is not allowed. Should you try to sample one cherry, 25
cents will be demanded of you.
Just in from our London desk at 3 PM, New York time – "Rafalca Does
Not Advance in Dressage"
In a quote that is unlikely to be repeated on any Fox News broadcast,
the rider of the show horse 1/3 owned by Mitt Romney’s wife said, "I’m
really happy with her piaffes."
Thursday, August 9, 2012
When I arrived for work this morning, a still photography crew was
already in place at the top of the courthouse steps. They had a
couple of large reflectors to optimize the light, but only a few
people sitting and waiting for the “star” photographer unlike the
hordes swarming around a video shoot of any flavor. In the absence of
any other signs of life, I went upstairs to my desk. At lunchtime, I
walked out the front door of the courthouse to continue my
investigation of the still photo shoot that took all morning to
complete. The crew was closing down and I learned that they had been
occupied with an AT&T ad for a tablet. Since I had been either too
early or too late for the actual posing, I don't know whether
beautiful men, women and/or animals were used, but I'll certainly be
able to recognize the steps when they appear in print.
I went to Noodle Village, 13 Mott Street, and, by coincidence, I
ordered beef chow fun as I had over two years ago (February 16, 2010).
The price increased from $7.95 to $8.75 and the dish was better
prepared this time. The portion was large and the amount of beef was
very generous, but it was still bland tasting. It needed a couple of
hits of soy sauce to give it character. Maybe that's what Mitt needs?
The wit and wisdom of Jeff Boss reappeared on the fence at the
construction site on Chambers Street, between Church Street and
Broadway. It is one of his favorite spots for educating the general
public, as you may observe from the tattered undercoating of his old
posters beneath the current display, which I recorded this morning. He
has been familiar to me, and certainly other New York pedestrians, for
at least the last decade.
Jeff’s stock-in-trade is a wonderfully baroque conspiracy theory
concerning 9/11. Here is the gist of his position as copied from his
web site http://www.jeffbossforpresident.org/:
"I Witnessed a family member my sister in law, high up in the NSA
(National Security Agency) planning the 911 attack. She was talking
about helping Ramsi Yousef (responsible for the 93 bombing at the
World Trade Center) call his uncle Khalid Sheikh Mohammed(considered
the mastermind of the 911 attack) from the NSA secret prison in
Alexandria, VA and she was talking about flying planes into buildings."
Jeff’s desire to expose the truth has led him into running for
president, the Senate, the House of Representatives, the New Jersey
governorship and state senate, with only a few moral victories to show
for it. Of course, his lack of electoral success, he claims, resulted
from the active intervention of the NSA in his various election
efforts. "I have a list of over 100,000+ people who have told me that
when I campaign to them and give them my literature, that the NSA
comes to them right afterwards and threatens to kill them and their
families if they speak up." The NSA has taken other extraordinary
steps to rein Jeff in. "I currently have NSA crews on my floor, above
me, and most of the employees of my building, and residents have been
recruited by the NSA to help the NSA cover up them orchestrating the
911 attack." Jeff has accused them of bugging his car and home, and
even seeking his termination with extreme prejudice. "NSA is putting
devices to give off microwave radiation in my car and through the
walls of my apartment to kill me."
On the other hand, according to Jeff, the NSA has a therapeutic side:
"GEORGE W. BUSH WAS DRUNK AND HIGH ON COCAINE IN THE WHITE HOUSE. IN
ORDER TO GET HIM ELECTED THE NSA HAD TO KILL MANY OF HIS DRUG DEALERS,
GIRL FRIENDS, DOCTORS & ALMOST EVERYONE HE WAS IN THE BETTY FORD
CENTER WITH."
If you wonder why this material appears in this blog, usually more
devoted to epicurean matters than espionage, I found this assertion on
another of Jeff’s web sites: "I CURRENTLY HAVE NUMEROUS CHEFS AND
RESTAURANT WORKERS CONFIRMING THE NSA POISONS FOOD IN THERE
RESTAURANT. THE NSA KILLS HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF AMERICANS A YEAR BY
POISONING THEIR FOOD." Don’t say you weren’t warned.
Even without a stomach pump handy, I marched right into Amazing 66
Restaurant, 66 Mott Street, which I last visited on February 2, 2010.
I had Amoy mei fun then; today, 2 BBQ Honey Quail @ $3.50 each
(minimum order 2). They were very good, lightly breaded and
deep-fried, but not greasy. However, a small bowl of white rice at
$1.25 is, how we say, a bad deal. The restaurant is quite attractive
by local standards and efficiently operated, so maybe I paid more for
intangibles than rice.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
The death of Marvin Hamlisch, 68-years old, was announced this
morning. He may have been a singular sensation in winning Oscars,
Emmys, Grammys and a Tony for his musical accomplishments, but my
appreciation of his music was always influenced by our personal
connection. Marvin’s mother worked for a couple in the fur business in
Vienna before WWII. All of them survived the ministrations of some
Western European Christians, and, in the late 1960s, the couple and
their lovely daughter lived in Los Angeles, as did Marvin,
newly-graduated from Queens College and Juilliard, and already working
on film music. His mother, when visiting from New York, would see her
old friends and suggest a liaison (shiddach) between their children,
since Marvin seemed to have more success meeting producers than cuties
back then. As I understood, Marvin and the statuesque young woman had
a date or two, but, in spite of their shared background, just did not
hit it off. In 1971, two years before Marvin won three Oscars on the
same evening (The Sting and The Way We Were), I met and became
enchanted by that very same woman. Since the setting for these events
was Los Angeles, marriage and divorce followed, even while Marvin went
on to date all sorts of lovelies,win many awards and make a lot of
money. Were there moments subsequently when I cursed Marvin’s early
lack of animal magnetism/sex appeal/chemistry?
Fruit note: Bing cherries are everywhere in Chinatown at 2 lbs. for
$3. However, shrewd shopping along Canal Street turns up 3 lbs. for $4
or even 2 lbs. for $2.50. Of course, you must buy the minimum weight
and picking is not allowed. Should you try to sample one cherry, 25
cents will be demanded of you.
Just in from our London desk at 3 PM, New York time – "Rafalca Does
Not Advance in Dressage"
In a quote that is unlikely to be repeated on any Fox News broadcast,
the rider of the show horse 1/3 owned by Mitt Romney’s wife said, "I’m
really happy with her piaffes."
Thursday, August 9, 2012
When I arrived for work this morning, a still photography crew was
already in place at the top of the courthouse steps. They had a
couple of large reflectors to optimize the light, but only a few
people sitting and waiting for the “star” photographer unlike the
hordes swarming around a video shoot of any flavor. In the absence of
any other signs of life, I went upstairs to my desk. At lunchtime, I
walked out the front door of the courthouse to continue my
investigation of the still photo shoot that took all morning to
complete. The crew was closing down and I learned that they had been
occupied with an AT&T ad for a tablet. Since I had been either too
early or too late for the actual posing, I don't know whether
beautiful men, women and/or animals were used, but I'll certainly be
able to recognize the steps when they appear in print.
I went to Noodle Village, 13 Mott Street, and, by coincidence, I
ordered beef chow fun as I had over two years ago (February 16, 2010).
The price increased from $7.95 to $8.75 and the dish was better
prepared this time. The portion was large and the amount of beef was
very generous, but it was still bland tasting. It needed a couple of
hits of soy sauce to give it character. Maybe that's what Mitt needs?
Friday, August 3, 2012
It All Adds Up
Monday, July 30, 2012
Andrew Hacker’s essay in the Sunday Times, http://www.nytimes.com/2012/07/29/opinion/sunday/is-algebra-necessary.htm?_r=1, contains so many errors of fact and logic that I have concluded that Professor Hacker is just having fun and doesn’t believe a word of it. After all, the Hacker I studied with decades ago, and have read frequently since, usually supported his provocative opinions with careful reasoning and accurate data. Yesterday, he casually dismissed the value of teaching algebra to high school and college students, mathematics majors aside, because it is hard and not useful. While he once told his graduate students that he wrote “How We Elect A President,” for Boy’s Life, the magazine of the Boy Scouts of America, in order to buy a color television set in the early 1960s, I cannot suggest what he sought with this effort.
It turns out that I am well-qualified to comment on Professor Hacker’s comments because he was instrumental in deflecting me from an academic career, which resulted for a couple of years thereafter in my teaching algebra. The latter experience confirmed for me that algebra is hard for many students. Unfortunately, the biggest obstacle for some students was the first step in symbolic logic, let X =. I’m still not sure, after all these decades, whether the inability of some students to attach a symbol to the unknown resulted from a lack of imagination, concentration or empathy. In fact, my biggest problem as an algebra teacher was the ease with which I took to algebra myself as a student. “Let X = the train leaving from Chicago.” “Sure.” “Let X = the apples in the shopping cart.” “OK.” “Let X = the boys waiting on line for the 6 o’clock show.” “Gotcha.” It was very hard for me to convey to others what to me was quite obvious. So, I grant that algebra can be hard.
Not useful, dead wrong. The first steps in my business career, after my teaching episode, were in commercial computer programming which could not exist without algebra. Then, when I went into managing things instead of doing things, estimates, schedules, budgets all rested on manipulating unknowns, organizing them into constructs that might insulate us, to some degree, from the randomness of the Universe. Even when quantification is not at issue, we often seek an X factor to explain behavior.
Professor Hacker claims that “[m]aking mathematics mandatory prevents us from discovering and developing young talent.” I think quite the opposite. An ability to put one’s figurative arms around the unknown, or at least be willing to try, may be the common thread of talent in almost any area of human endeavor.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
One mystery is solved. I ate at Ann’s BBQ, on the second floor at 1 East Broadway, the site with the most identities in Chinatown. Today, the door on the second floor was wide open and the mild temperatures did not require airconditioned relief. Except for the light oak floor, all the furniture, 6 rectangular tables and one round table, and paneling are dark wood. One long wall is covered with mirrors set in arched wood frames. The only other wall decorations were posters for drinks and desserts. The four employees behind a bar/counter at the rear of the restaurant had very little to do; only two young Chinese men sat at the bar, but they were schmoozing not eating.
The menu lists meats, vegetables, and seafood in modestly-priced groups, that were probably grilled and served on skewers. I ordered from the casual snacks section, fried chicken ($2.50) and shrimp w. salt & pepper ($3.50). The chicken were deep-fried, breaded discs (8) with ketchup on the side, but the shrimp were real, heads-on, cooked in the shell (6). Additionally, I ordered Taiwanese shaved ice, which I have not seen anywhere else locally after its successful introduction last summer (July 28, 2011). Today’s ice was more coarsely chopped than shaved and served in a large bowl with a choice of three toppings; I picked coconut, pineapple and watermelon ($3.75). The fruit was both fresh and candied. The dish was colorful, but not very interesting, like so much modern entertainment.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Thanks to my brother for referring me to this article on the backlash to Hava Nagila, that musical staple of Jewish festivities. http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052702304388004577533092169060420.html
Thursday, August 2, 2012
I feel so much safer now that Mitt Romney has returned to the United States. We all know that Mitt and his hearty five sons have always put themselves forward in the difficult battles of protecting freedom and preserving the American Way. After all, it was Mitt’s bravery in downtown France during la guerre du Viêt Nam that inspired his sons to keep physically fit by playing tennis and skiing throughout the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan. Therefore, our country is much more secure with Mitt here where what he says is ignored by domestic friend and foe alike, rather than overseas where the locals might pay heed to the words of the possible next president of the United States. Our global leadership role is best served by limiting Mitt to forays in the forests of Michigan, you know the place with the special trees.
Chinatown seems to be especially taken with the Olympics. The flat-panel television sets that seem omnipresent in local restaurants have abandoned for the time being strange music videos and switched to coverage of various athletic events. This may result from an interest in synchronized swimming previously unmet by the normal broadcast schedule, or possibly the strong showing that China has made so far in the medal count, according to the New York Times sport section, the only reporting you can trust. In any case, as I am devoted to spending no more time watching the Olympics than I do watching the Academy Awards or the Miss America Pageant, I face a challenge at lunchtime thse days. Note that, at least, the Academy Awards and Miss America don't have a Munich in their closet. I can’t stay away from a joint merely because it is showing the Olympics, because this would severely limit my options. Instead, I aim for a seat immediately beneath the screen with my back towards it. With the sound usually off, which is not the case with the strange music videos, I can turn to my food and crossword puzzle without interference from the thrill of victory or the agony of defeat.
Andrew Hacker’s essay in the Sunday Times, http://www.nytimes.com/2012/07/29/opinion/sunday/is-algebra-necessary.htm?_r=1, contains so many errors of fact and logic that I have concluded that Professor Hacker is just having fun and doesn’t believe a word of it. After all, the Hacker I studied with decades ago, and have read frequently since, usually supported his provocative opinions with careful reasoning and accurate data. Yesterday, he casually dismissed the value of teaching algebra to high school and college students, mathematics majors aside, because it is hard and not useful. While he once told his graduate students that he wrote “How We Elect A President,” for Boy’s Life, the magazine of the Boy Scouts of America, in order to buy a color television set in the early 1960s, I cannot suggest what he sought with this effort.
It turns out that I am well-qualified to comment on Professor Hacker’s comments because he was instrumental in deflecting me from an academic career, which resulted for a couple of years thereafter in my teaching algebra. The latter experience confirmed for me that algebra is hard for many students. Unfortunately, the biggest obstacle for some students was the first step in symbolic logic, let X =. I’m still not sure, after all these decades, whether the inability of some students to attach a symbol to the unknown resulted from a lack of imagination, concentration or empathy. In fact, my biggest problem as an algebra teacher was the ease with which I took to algebra myself as a student. “Let X = the train leaving from Chicago.” “Sure.” “Let X = the apples in the shopping cart.” “OK.” “Let X = the boys waiting on line for the 6 o’clock show.” “Gotcha.” It was very hard for me to convey to others what to me was quite obvious. So, I grant that algebra can be hard.
Not useful, dead wrong. The first steps in my business career, after my teaching episode, were in commercial computer programming which could not exist without algebra. Then, when I went into managing things instead of doing things, estimates, schedules, budgets all rested on manipulating unknowns, organizing them into constructs that might insulate us, to some degree, from the randomness of the Universe. Even when quantification is not at issue, we often seek an X factor to explain behavior.
Professor Hacker claims that “[m]aking mathematics mandatory prevents us from discovering and developing young talent.” I think quite the opposite. An ability to put one’s figurative arms around the unknown, or at least be willing to try, may be the common thread of talent in almost any area of human endeavor.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
One mystery is solved. I ate at Ann’s BBQ, on the second floor at 1 East Broadway, the site with the most identities in Chinatown. Today, the door on the second floor was wide open and the mild temperatures did not require airconditioned relief. Except for the light oak floor, all the furniture, 6 rectangular tables and one round table, and paneling are dark wood. One long wall is covered with mirrors set in arched wood frames. The only other wall decorations were posters for drinks and desserts. The four employees behind a bar/counter at the rear of the restaurant had very little to do; only two young Chinese men sat at the bar, but they were schmoozing not eating.
The menu lists meats, vegetables, and seafood in modestly-priced groups, that were probably grilled and served on skewers. I ordered from the casual snacks section, fried chicken ($2.50) and shrimp w. salt & pepper ($3.50). The chicken were deep-fried, breaded discs (8) with ketchup on the side, but the shrimp were real, heads-on, cooked in the shell (6). Additionally, I ordered Taiwanese shaved ice, which I have not seen anywhere else locally after its successful introduction last summer (July 28, 2011). Today’s ice was more coarsely chopped than shaved and served in a large bowl with a choice of three toppings; I picked coconut, pineapple and watermelon ($3.75). The fruit was both fresh and candied. The dish was colorful, but not very interesting, like so much modern entertainment.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Thanks to my brother for referring me to this article on the backlash to Hava Nagila, that musical staple of Jewish festivities. http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052702304388004577533092169060420.html
Thursday, August 2, 2012
I feel so much safer now that Mitt Romney has returned to the United States. We all know that Mitt and his hearty five sons have always put themselves forward in the difficult battles of protecting freedom and preserving the American Way. After all, it was Mitt’s bravery in downtown France during la guerre du Viêt Nam that inspired his sons to keep physically fit by playing tennis and skiing throughout the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan. Therefore, our country is much more secure with Mitt here where what he says is ignored by domestic friend and foe alike, rather than overseas where the locals might pay heed to the words of the possible next president of the United States. Our global leadership role is best served by limiting Mitt to forays in the forests of Michigan, you know the place with the special trees.
Chinatown seems to be especially taken with the Olympics. The flat-panel television sets that seem omnipresent in local restaurants have abandoned for the time being strange music videos and switched to coverage of various athletic events. This may result from an interest in synchronized swimming previously unmet by the normal broadcast schedule, or possibly the strong showing that China has made so far in the medal count, according to the New York Times sport section, the only reporting you can trust. In any case, as I am devoted to spending no more time watching the Olympics than I do watching the Academy Awards or the Miss America Pageant, I face a challenge at lunchtime thse days. Note that, at least, the Academy Awards and Miss America don't have a Munich in their closet. I can’t stay away from a joint merely because it is showing the Olympics, because this would severely limit my options. Instead, I aim for a seat immediately beneath the screen with my back towards it. With the sound usually off, which is not the case with the strange music videos, I can turn to my food and crossword puzzle without interference from the thrill of victory or the agony of defeat.
Friday, July 27, 2012
Hot and Crusty
Monday, July 23, 2012
Jill and Steve are dear friends and stalwart traveling companions. This morning, we drove out to Long Island to celebrate the bris (ritual circumcision) of their newest grandson. It was a wonderful occasion. I managed to get to my desk by 1 PM, carrying a lamb/chicken combo over rice from the Halal cart at the northwest corner of Reade Street and Centre Street. Tomorrow, I expect to hit a new restaurant in my quest for whatever it is I’m questing.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Mini Express, 14-18 Elizabeth Street, Chinatown Arcade #32-33, is a new joint in the arcade between the Bowery and Elizabeth Street. The interior is stark, but attractive, with black floor tiles, gray faux bricks and gray faux tiles on the walls. Three large, black metal-framed tables with glass tops had four chairs each. Most of the space was devoted to the ordering counter and the kitchen behind it. There was an active takeout business. One flat screen television played insipid Korean music videos, featuring gangs of Korean Justin Bieber imitators, which did not aid my appetite. That was just as well because the plate of “Western chicken fried rice” ($6) wasn’t very good. The extensive menu is almost entirely devoted to noodle and rice dishes, and there might very well be some tasty treats among them, but it will be some time before I’m motivated to find out.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
A good and wise friend, concerned about the state of our economy, sent me an editorial from his local newspaper, far removed from Sodom, which urged big cuts in federal spending while applying a gentler touch to revenue enhancement (TAXES). The editorial pointed out that increasing taxes on the richest Americans will not work because “there’s not enough of them to use this as a solution to fix the problem.” Whoa there! There’s not enough of any one thing (defense spending, entitlements, agricultural subsidies, mass transit spending, cultural grants) to solve the problem by itself. But, there is a lot of money to be collected from making the very rich pay what you or I typically pay in taxes, and it sends a better message to ourselves about this country and its values rather than letting roads and bridges rot or shrinking public education.
“Blue Bloods,” a cop show that I’ve never seen was all over the area today. The intersection of Reade Street and Centre Street had trucks and equipment in place as I passed by this morning. When I went to lunch, I saw more trucks and equipment parked along Baxter Street then turning into Leonard Street, including two big ducts providing extra airconditioning to some courtroom or office in 80 Centre Street where they were filming interior shots. Then, after lunch, they were actually filming on the sidewalk in front of 60 Centre Street. The scene was a handsome cop and a pretty copette walking and talking along, their gold detective badges clipped to their belts. It is possible that a side, rear view of my head was captured as I walked by. Keep tuned.
I thought that I was headed to a new restaurant at a very familiar location when I climbed the stairs to the second floor at 1 East Broadway. I’ve eaten in four different iterations of the restaurant at street level during the 30+ months that I’ve been on this mission. A couple of days ago, I saw a simple sign on the doorway next to the restaurant that read “BBQ 2 FL.” Looking up, I saw an illuminated neon sign that said “B-B-Q.” So, today, I walked up the flight of stairs which was decorated with two color posters of frosty drinks, expecting to find a new establishment above. I thought for a moment of the Time Warner Center, at Columbus Circle, where Per Se, Masa, Bouchon Bakery, Asiate, A Voce, Landmarc, and Porter House are stacked atop each other. However, the dull silver-painted, unmarked door at the top of the stairs, with a bell and peephole as found in a typical apartment, was locked. I went up the one other flight, thinking that they may be using the European style of counting floors (ignoring the fact that the neon sign was only one flight up), but only found an office conducting Chinese business, or maybe just business in Chinese.
Thursday, July 26, 2012.
I passed 1 East Broadway again on the way to the library branch where I borrow DVDs of British crime shows, and I looked over the BBQ joint situation upstairs. Today, I noticed that the neon sign had the word Open lit, which I had not noticed yesterday. However, the windows overlooking East Broadway were also open, a definite indicator of a preference for natural breezes over the harsh artificial chill of airconditioning. With the temperature and humidity rapidly climbing back up as if the morning’s torrential rainstorm had never happened, I was all for the harsh artificial chill of airconditioning, so I kept walking.
Gude Gude Inc., 42 Eldridge Street, also denied me the harsh artificial chill of airconditioning, but, since I had walked this far, I sat down at one of the narrow ledges running around three sides of the tiny place, hoping that the weak fan and ineffectual airconditioner over the front door might slow the growth of mildew under my chin. Accordingly, I ordered quickly and ate quickly. The simple menu offers grilled beef, pork, shrimp and chicken, one or more at a time, over white rice, fried rice or lo mein. I had beef, shrimp and chicken with lo mein ($5.75). A small bowl of clear broth with a few tofu cubes and some leaves floating in it came as well. The food wasn’t bad. It was cooked to order by the young woman who staffed the operation in its entirety, but the portion was small. Of course, that helped me get going pretty quickly.
Since my recent two-week visit to Israel and Jordan heightened my standing as a geo-political analyst, I would like to comment on an interesting op-ed in today’s New York Times. Dani Dayan wrote under the headline “Israel’s Settlers Are Here to Stay,” http://www.nytimes.com/2012/07/26/opinion/israels-settlers-are-here-to-stay.html. I found his opinions credible, if only because he avoided the sentimental anecdotes that often distort the discussion of Arab/Israeli relations. “My great-uncle Yossi carried pebbles in his mouth to build a wall around the kibbutz.” “My second cousin Faisal did not drink water for 30 days to keep that olive tree alive.” Rather, he focused on the fact that over 350,000 Israeli Jews live behind the line, my euphemism for the disputed territories. He gets a little soapy when he speaks of “Israel’s moral claim to these territories,” but much of his argument rests upon “the irreversibility of the huge Israeli civilian presence in Judea and Samaria,” and this is a serious concern.
However, there is another “irreversibility” that Dayan and other supporters of the settler movement ignore. Over time, minorities succumb to majorities. Whether to the Hebrews in Pharaonic times, the Americans in the 13 British colonies, the native populations of south Asia or South Africa, “foreign” rule proved unacceptable. I don’t doubt the successes he cites; “the economies are thriving; a new Palestinian city, Rawabi, is being built north of Ramallah; Jewish communities are growing; checkpoints are being removed; and tourists of all nationalities are again visiting Bethlehem and Shiloh.” Except the Arab birthrate behind the line exceeds the Jewish birthrate (the very fecund ultra-Orthodox Jews live almost entirely in a few communities in Israel proper), and there is no evidence that even greater number of Arabs will be comfortable under Israeli rule than the current population. The great irony, which I sadly recognize, is that the lives and fortunes of individual Arabs would probably be better under an Israeli regime attempting to respect democratic values than the corrupt, nepotistic, and oppressive rule likely to succeed “liberation.” Yet, somehow, “our S.O.B.s” are more attractive than theirs. And, inevitably, they will get their own S.O.B.s.
Jill and Steve are dear friends and stalwart traveling companions. This morning, we drove out to Long Island to celebrate the bris (ritual circumcision) of their newest grandson. It was a wonderful occasion. I managed to get to my desk by 1 PM, carrying a lamb/chicken combo over rice from the Halal cart at the northwest corner of Reade Street and Centre Street. Tomorrow, I expect to hit a new restaurant in my quest for whatever it is I’m questing.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Mini Express, 14-18 Elizabeth Street, Chinatown Arcade #32-33, is a new joint in the arcade between the Bowery and Elizabeth Street. The interior is stark, but attractive, with black floor tiles, gray faux bricks and gray faux tiles on the walls. Three large, black metal-framed tables with glass tops had four chairs each. Most of the space was devoted to the ordering counter and the kitchen behind it. There was an active takeout business. One flat screen television played insipid Korean music videos, featuring gangs of Korean Justin Bieber imitators, which did not aid my appetite. That was just as well because the plate of “Western chicken fried rice” ($6) wasn’t very good. The extensive menu is almost entirely devoted to noodle and rice dishes, and there might very well be some tasty treats among them, but it will be some time before I’m motivated to find out.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
A good and wise friend, concerned about the state of our economy, sent me an editorial from his local newspaper, far removed from Sodom, which urged big cuts in federal spending while applying a gentler touch to revenue enhancement (TAXES). The editorial pointed out that increasing taxes on the richest Americans will not work because “there’s not enough of them to use this as a solution to fix the problem.” Whoa there! There’s not enough of any one thing (defense spending, entitlements, agricultural subsidies, mass transit spending, cultural grants) to solve the problem by itself. But, there is a lot of money to be collected from making the very rich pay what you or I typically pay in taxes, and it sends a better message to ourselves about this country and its values rather than letting roads and bridges rot or shrinking public education.
“Blue Bloods,” a cop show that I’ve never seen was all over the area today. The intersection of Reade Street and Centre Street had trucks and equipment in place as I passed by this morning. When I went to lunch, I saw more trucks and equipment parked along Baxter Street then turning into Leonard Street, including two big ducts providing extra airconditioning to some courtroom or office in 80 Centre Street where they were filming interior shots. Then, after lunch, they were actually filming on the sidewalk in front of 60 Centre Street. The scene was a handsome cop and a pretty copette walking and talking along, their gold detective badges clipped to their belts. It is possible that a side, rear view of my head was captured as I walked by. Keep tuned.
I thought that I was headed to a new restaurant at a very familiar location when I climbed the stairs to the second floor at 1 East Broadway. I’ve eaten in four different iterations of the restaurant at street level during the 30+ months that I’ve been on this mission. A couple of days ago, I saw a simple sign on the doorway next to the restaurant that read “BBQ 2 FL.” Looking up, I saw an illuminated neon sign that said “B-B-Q.” So, today, I walked up the flight of stairs which was decorated with two color posters of frosty drinks, expecting to find a new establishment above. I thought for a moment of the Time Warner Center, at Columbus Circle, where Per Se, Masa, Bouchon Bakery, Asiate, A Voce, Landmarc, and Porter House are stacked atop each other. However, the dull silver-painted, unmarked door at the top of the stairs, with a bell and peephole as found in a typical apartment, was locked. I went up the one other flight, thinking that they may be using the European style of counting floors (ignoring the fact that the neon sign was only one flight up), but only found an office conducting Chinese business, or maybe just business in Chinese.
Thursday, July 26, 2012.
I passed 1 East Broadway again on the way to the library branch where I borrow DVDs of British crime shows, and I looked over the BBQ joint situation upstairs. Today, I noticed that the neon sign had the word Open lit, which I had not noticed yesterday. However, the windows overlooking East Broadway were also open, a definite indicator of a preference for natural breezes over the harsh artificial chill of airconditioning. With the temperature and humidity rapidly climbing back up as if the morning’s torrential rainstorm had never happened, I was all for the harsh artificial chill of airconditioning, so I kept walking.
Gude Gude Inc., 42 Eldridge Street, also denied me the harsh artificial chill of airconditioning, but, since I had walked this far, I sat down at one of the narrow ledges running around three sides of the tiny place, hoping that the weak fan and ineffectual airconditioner over the front door might slow the growth of mildew under my chin. Accordingly, I ordered quickly and ate quickly. The simple menu offers grilled beef, pork, shrimp and chicken, one or more at a time, over white rice, fried rice or lo mein. I had beef, shrimp and chicken with lo mein ($5.75). A small bowl of clear broth with a few tofu cubes and some leaves floating in it came as well. The food wasn’t bad. It was cooked to order by the young woman who staffed the operation in its entirety, but the portion was small. Of course, that helped me get going pretty quickly.
Since my recent two-week visit to Israel and Jordan heightened my standing as a geo-political analyst, I would like to comment on an interesting op-ed in today’s New York Times. Dani Dayan wrote under the headline “Israel’s Settlers Are Here to Stay,” http://www.nytimes.com/2012/07/26/opinion/israels-settlers-are-here-to-stay.html. I found his opinions credible, if only because he avoided the sentimental anecdotes that often distort the discussion of Arab/Israeli relations. “My great-uncle Yossi carried pebbles in his mouth to build a wall around the kibbutz.” “My second cousin Faisal did not drink water for 30 days to keep that olive tree alive.” Rather, he focused on the fact that over 350,000 Israeli Jews live behind the line, my euphemism for the disputed territories. He gets a little soapy when he speaks of “Israel’s moral claim to these territories,” but much of his argument rests upon “the irreversibility of the huge Israeli civilian presence in Judea and Samaria,” and this is a serious concern.
However, there is another “irreversibility” that Dayan and other supporters of the settler movement ignore. Over time, minorities succumb to majorities. Whether to the Hebrews in Pharaonic times, the Americans in the 13 British colonies, the native populations of south Asia or South Africa, “foreign” rule proved unacceptable. I don’t doubt the successes he cites; “the economies are thriving; a new Palestinian city, Rawabi, is being built north of Ramallah; Jewish communities are growing; checkpoints are being removed; and tourists of all nationalities are again visiting Bethlehem and Shiloh.” Except the Arab birthrate behind the line exceeds the Jewish birthrate (the very fecund ultra-Orthodox Jews live almost entirely in a few communities in Israel proper), and there is no evidence that even greater number of Arabs will be comfortable under Israeli rule than the current population. The great irony, which I sadly recognize, is that the lives and fortunes of individual Arabs would probably be better under an Israeli regime attempting to respect democratic values than the corrupt, nepotistic, and oppressive rule likely to succeed “liberation.” Yet, somehow, “our S.O.B.s” are more attractive than theirs. And, inevitably, they will get their own S.O.B.s.
Friday, July 20, 2012
What's In a Name?
Monday, July 16, 2012
I don’t think I need help finding topics to discuss here, at least as long as one of the Mitt Romneys is running for president of the United States. But, yesterday the New York Times threw me a softball. It published a short essay by Milla Goldenberg entitled "So Much in Common, in Name Only," describing meeting and dating a man also named Goldenberg. The attraction for her admittedly was the name. Of course, the hook is that my mother’s family is named Goldenberg, and you may have encountered my first cousins Michael, Anita, Lucille and/or Barbara (although she gave up Goldenberg a couple of marriages ago). The next generation has had a profusion of girls, so only brothers Joel and Craig Goldenberg, my cousins somewhat removed, are running around propagating the name. The irony of it all is captured by my invented adage for personal encounters: "If your name is Goldenberg, we’re not related."
While the details are now fuzzy over a century later, I understand that my mother’s family originally had a consonant-laden Eastern European name. When either my maternal grandfather came over from Poland in 1905, or my maternal grandmother, in 1909, my maternal grandmother’s younger sister, already living in New York for several years, decided to Americanize their name to Goldenberg, a name that apparently just missed appearing on the bottom of the Declaration of Independence. So, Joseph and Esther Malka Goldenberg, living first on the lower East Side and then Brooklyn, had six children and lived long enough, in Joseph’s case, to see grandchildren born, and great-grandchildren in Esther Malka’s case. Unfortunately, the original family name has been long lost. Even when some of my older maternal relatives were still alive (many of those Goldenbergs had long life-spans), no one remembered the name of that branch of the family tree. So, sorry Milla Goldenberg, the writer; Claude Goldenberg, the Stanford University professor of education; Mark Goldenberg, the acoustic guitarist; Stuart L. Goldenberg, the Minneapolis personal injury lawyer; Natasha Goldenberg, the Russian fashion designer; Suzanne Goldenberg, the US environmental reporter for the Guardian (UK); Billy Goldenberg, the composer of movie and television music; and sadly, Goldenberg’s Peanut Chews, but we’re not related.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
I was called upon to work in a courtroom at 71 Thomas Street today, so I had occasion to have lunch with Super Clerk Marty. Appropriately, we went to Super Linda - Latin Grill, 109 West Broadway, a new place located where Delphi Restaurant operated for many years. When I started working at 71 Thomas Street in 2002, Delphi was the first place I had lunch, since it was one block away, reasonably priced and served Greek food, a desirable choice. However, from the first, I found that Delphi did not bother to season food. Salt, pepper, garlic, lemon juice, oregano, or other stuff that you might cook with to spice up a dish seemed to be absent from its kitchen. I returned several times, hoping that my initial impression was atypical, but the bland followed the bland, and I skipped Delphi for some years until it closed.
Super Linda was pleasantly airconditioned on an afternoon that reached 94° and the simple lunch menu had decent choices. Marty ordered the breakfast burrito ($9), chorizo sausage, scrambled eggs, peppers, wrapped in a burrito. I had fish tacos ($12), three crooked cigar pieces of fried fish lying on soft tortillas, with a cup of black beans and a mound of rice on the side. The dish was mildly, but distinctively, seasoned. The only glitch in the meal came at the end, when we were charged $2.50 cups of coffee, instead of the $2 on the menu, and then charged for the refills, a total of 10 bucks. The lovely manager apologized for the error in judgment and fact, and eliminated all trace of coffee from our bill.
Speaking of spices, fried foods and such, I had an appointment with Dr. Morris Traube, Very Big Gastroenterologist, at the end of the day. Dr. Traube, who has treated me in the past, has a law degree and is an Orthodox rabbi as well, you may recall. After initial greetings, I asked Dr. Traube if he has considered becoming a veterinarian too. This led us to search our memories fruitlessly for any Orthodox Jewish veterinarians. Dr. Traube suggested that there are some doctrinal barriers to an Orthodox Jew becoming a veterinarian, especially when it came to sterilizing or neutering animals. See http://www.aojs.org/pmh.asp, "in Jewish law it is prohibited to surgically, radio-therapeutically, physically or medically impair the reproductive organs of any living creature, male or female; human, animal, fowl or beast." This should reassure some Jewish husbands.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
100°.
Friday, July 20, 2012
At last, a new Chinese restaurant. Prosperity Dumpling, 46 Eldridge Street, is tiny. A space in front holds five stools against two narrow ledges while folks stand around waiting for their orders to take out. The next 15 feet are crowded with five people preparing and cooking. The busyness results from the favorable price/performance ratio that Prosperity delivers. I had five fried pork and chive dumplings ($1), a sesame pancake with roasted beef ($1.75) and a sesame pancake with roasted chicken ($1.75), all washed down with a Diet Coke. The sesame pancakes are not pancakes, but strongly resembling a wedge of sesame-encrusted focaccia, split and filled. Each wedge was about 75% of the size of a pizza slice. There was shredded carrots and parsley, with a dash of Vietnamese sweet and tangy sauce, in addition to the beef and chicken. Very tasty, very filling. However, the narrow ledge affords no room to do a crossword puzzle.
Allen West is a black Republican Congressman from Florida, a rare phenomenon. Further distinguishing him is a penchant for bold rhetoric, such as, "I believe there is about 78 to 81 members of the Democratic Party [in Congress] that are members of the Communist Party." http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/the-fix/post/republican-rep-allen-west-suggests-many-congressional-democrats-are-communists/2012/04/11/gIQApbZiAT_blog.html. So far, the record contains no evidence to support West’s claim, but I believe that there is proof that there is at least one psychotic in the House of Representatives.
I don’t think I need help finding topics to discuss here, at least as long as one of the Mitt Romneys is running for president of the United States. But, yesterday the New York Times threw me a softball. It published a short essay by Milla Goldenberg entitled "So Much in Common, in Name Only," describing meeting and dating a man also named Goldenberg. The attraction for her admittedly was the name. Of course, the hook is that my mother’s family is named Goldenberg, and you may have encountered my first cousins Michael, Anita, Lucille and/or Barbara (although she gave up Goldenberg a couple of marriages ago). The next generation has had a profusion of girls, so only brothers Joel and Craig Goldenberg, my cousins somewhat removed, are running around propagating the name. The irony of it all is captured by my invented adage for personal encounters: "If your name is Goldenberg, we’re not related."
While the details are now fuzzy over a century later, I understand that my mother’s family originally had a consonant-laden Eastern European name. When either my maternal grandfather came over from Poland in 1905, or my maternal grandmother, in 1909, my maternal grandmother’s younger sister, already living in New York for several years, decided to Americanize their name to Goldenberg, a name that apparently just missed appearing on the bottom of the Declaration of Independence. So, Joseph and Esther Malka Goldenberg, living first on the lower East Side and then Brooklyn, had six children and lived long enough, in Joseph’s case, to see grandchildren born, and great-grandchildren in Esther Malka’s case. Unfortunately, the original family name has been long lost. Even when some of my older maternal relatives were still alive (many of those Goldenbergs had long life-spans), no one remembered the name of that branch of the family tree. So, sorry Milla Goldenberg, the writer; Claude Goldenberg, the Stanford University professor of education; Mark Goldenberg, the acoustic guitarist; Stuart L. Goldenberg, the Minneapolis personal injury lawyer; Natasha Goldenberg, the Russian fashion designer; Suzanne Goldenberg, the US environmental reporter for the Guardian (UK); Billy Goldenberg, the composer of movie and television music; and sadly, Goldenberg’s Peanut Chews, but we’re not related.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
I was called upon to work in a courtroom at 71 Thomas Street today, so I had occasion to have lunch with Super Clerk Marty. Appropriately, we went to Super Linda - Latin Grill, 109 West Broadway, a new place located where Delphi Restaurant operated for many years. When I started working at 71 Thomas Street in 2002, Delphi was the first place I had lunch, since it was one block away, reasonably priced and served Greek food, a desirable choice. However, from the first, I found that Delphi did not bother to season food. Salt, pepper, garlic, lemon juice, oregano, or other stuff that you might cook with to spice up a dish seemed to be absent from its kitchen. I returned several times, hoping that my initial impression was atypical, but the bland followed the bland, and I skipped Delphi for some years until it closed.
Super Linda was pleasantly airconditioned on an afternoon that reached 94° and the simple lunch menu had decent choices. Marty ordered the breakfast burrito ($9), chorizo sausage, scrambled eggs, peppers, wrapped in a burrito. I had fish tacos ($12), three crooked cigar pieces of fried fish lying on soft tortillas, with a cup of black beans and a mound of rice on the side. The dish was mildly, but distinctively, seasoned. The only glitch in the meal came at the end, when we were charged $2.50 cups of coffee, instead of the $2 on the menu, and then charged for the refills, a total of 10 bucks. The lovely manager apologized for the error in judgment and fact, and eliminated all trace of coffee from our bill.
Speaking of spices, fried foods and such, I had an appointment with Dr. Morris Traube, Very Big Gastroenterologist, at the end of the day. Dr. Traube, who has treated me in the past, has a law degree and is an Orthodox rabbi as well, you may recall. After initial greetings, I asked Dr. Traube if he has considered becoming a veterinarian too. This led us to search our memories fruitlessly for any Orthodox Jewish veterinarians. Dr. Traube suggested that there are some doctrinal barriers to an Orthodox Jew becoming a veterinarian, especially when it came to sterilizing or neutering animals. See http://www.aojs.org/pmh.asp, "in Jewish law it is prohibited to surgically, radio-therapeutically, physically or medically impair the reproductive organs of any living creature, male or female; human, animal, fowl or beast." This should reassure some Jewish husbands.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
100°.
Friday, July 20, 2012
At last, a new Chinese restaurant. Prosperity Dumpling, 46 Eldridge Street, is tiny. A space in front holds five stools against two narrow ledges while folks stand around waiting for their orders to take out. The next 15 feet are crowded with five people preparing and cooking. The busyness results from the favorable price/performance ratio that Prosperity delivers. I had five fried pork and chive dumplings ($1), a sesame pancake with roasted beef ($1.75) and a sesame pancake with roasted chicken ($1.75), all washed down with a Diet Coke. The sesame pancakes are not pancakes, but strongly resembling a wedge of sesame-encrusted focaccia, split and filled. Each wedge was about 75% of the size of a pizza slice. There was shredded carrots and parsley, with a dash of Vietnamese sweet and tangy sauce, in addition to the beef and chicken. Very tasty, very filling. However, the narrow ledge affords no room to do a crossword puzzle.
Allen West is a black Republican Congressman from Florida, a rare phenomenon. Further distinguishing him is a penchant for bold rhetoric, such as, "I believe there is about 78 to 81 members of the Democratic Party [in Congress] that are members of the Communist Party." http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/the-fix/post/republican-rep-allen-west-suggests-many-congressional-democrats-are-communists/2012/04/11/gIQApbZiAT_blog.html. So far, the record contains no evidence to support West’s claim, but I believe that there is proof that there is at least one psychotic in the House of Representatives.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Different Messages
Monday, July 9, 2012
Another man was on the elevator when I got on this morning on the way to work. He was also middle-aged, as I like to describe myself. However, he was about 5'6", 140 pounds; no chance that we would be mistaken one for the other. What interested me was his T-shirt which read San Francisco XXL. Now, he was not swimming in this T-shirt. It fit him quit well, so there was no chance that the shirt had ever been properly descriptive, and that bothered me as a genuine XXL. Were I to be hastily looking for a T-shirt and grabbed this San Francisco XXL, I might wind up embarrassing myself, shocking bystanders and destroying a T-shirt. If you can’t trust a T-shirt, what can you trust?
Can you trust Andrew Zimmern, chef and food writer, who identifies his Top 10 Places to Eat Asian Food in NYC in the current Food & Wine magazine (thanks to Cindy W.M. for the reference)? We differ immediately because Zimmern encompasses all of the Big Apple, while I restrict myself to its Chinatown core. Nevertheless, we converge at places.
His list:
Congee Bowery Restaurant & Bar, 207 Bowery (Chinese)
Xi’an Famous Foods, 67 Bayard Street (although the article links to the no-seat 88 East Broadway location) (Chinese)
Dim Sum Go Go, 5 East Broadway (Chinese)
Jewel Bako, 239 East 5th Street (Japanese)
Sushi Yasuda, 204 East 43rd Street (Japanese)
Bar Chuko, 552 Vanderbilt Avenue, Brooklyn (Japanese)
Momofuku Noodle Bar, 171 First Avenue (Japanese)
Kum Gang San, 49 West 32nd Street (Korean)
Minangasli, 86-10 Whitney Avenue, Flushing (Indonesian)
Kin Shop, 469 Sixth Avenue (Thai)
Xi’an and Go Go have warranted repeated visits by me, and are unquestionably in metropolitan Chinatown. I admit to missing Congee Bowery, a sister to Congee Village, 100 Allen Street (August 15, 2011) and Congee Chinese Restaurant, 98 Bowery (May 9, 2011). My rationale, or excuse if you wish, is Congee Bowery’s location, which according to Google maps is .8 miles away, but two blocks north of Delancey Street. In fact, Congee Village has been the furthest reach of my lunch hour explorations, at .9 miles, but still south of Delancey Street. If this makes no sense to you, rent "Crossing Delancey," the 1988 romantic comedy starring Amy Irving, which the New York Times reviewed under the headline “Learning to Appreciate a Mr. Right Who Sells Pickles and Tells Jokes.”
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Today’s paper reports that 70 Stuyvesant High School students were involved in a pattern of smartphone-enabled cheating during a citywide language exam on June 18. Cellphones are officially not permitted in city schools, and when officials looked into a 16-year-old junior’s phone, they found a trail of text messages, including photos of test pages, that suggested pupils had been sharing information about exams while they were taking them. All the students involved will have to retake the exams, and some have been notified "that some of their class privileges, including the right to leave school for lunch or be members of school leadership organizations like the Student Union, an important college résumé-building activity, would be revoked." The Times says that the disseminator of the information and four others may face suspension. Here’s where I suspend my credentials as a wishy-washy liberal and show some Old Testament vengeance. First, the kid who sent the images – out. Second, recipients of the messages who responded (and that’s how the other 69 were identified) positively ("Thanks, bro.") – out. Third, recipients of the messages who responded negatively ("No way.") – retake the exam and then leave it alone. Fourth, recipients of the messages who responded ambiguously ("Wassup with this?") – retake the exam and 20 hours in an ethics course. Of course, there is no way to prevent the most culpable from eventually leading global financial enterprises.
Yahoo flashed a blurb this morning for the One Quality of Happy Marriages and I won’t argue with their choice of Empathy. However, I was taken by the byline on the linked article: Julie Hanks, LCSW, is Sharecare Now's #1 Online Depression Influencer.
Sharecare Now apparently is a web site devoted to Q&A about health issues. But, how about Julie’s title? Actually, I think I know several depression influencers, but I never regarded that as a compliment. And, how would you feel coming in #2? Wouldn’t that be depressing?
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
S.J. Perelman said, "I don’t know much about medicine, but I know what I like." I share this point of view and, fortunately, have America’s Favorite Epidemiologist nearby to examine and explain medical information that may be relevant to me. However, I have noted a favorable health trend even by my inexpert standards. The number of cancer-ridden African widows seems to have declined sharply. I’m not sure whether better hygiene and sanitation, early detection, anti-retroviral drugs and/or prayer have made the difference, but I rarely hear from these desperate folk who merely seek to arrange in their waning days to share their wealth with those who are not now and never have been employed by Bain Capital.
On the other hand, my Spam filter caught this gem recently:
Order Notification,
E-TICKET / EH151194395
SEAT / 42F/ZONE 1
DATE / TIME 23 JUNE, 2012, 09:25 PM
ARRIVING / Des Moines
FORM OF PAYMENT / XXXXXX
TOTAL PRICE / 222.66 USD
REF / KE.2398 ST / OK
BAG / 7PC
Your ticket is attached.
To use your ticket you should print it.
Thank you for your attention.
Delta Air Lines.
Attached was a file which I left untouched. While I may begrudgingly credit these Spamster Scamsters for some of their devious ploys, I was disappointed to think that they imagined that I would risk the sanctity of my computer system by the lure of a ticket to Des Moines. Come on. If they have been reading my e-mail lately, they know I’ve been to Asia and the Middle East this year so far. Wouldn’t it be more appropriate to try to seduce me with a ticket to Sydney, Buenos Aires, Tokyo, Capetown or Sofia? And, in case my wanderlust was at a heightened state and I was ready to go just about anywhere, I checked and found out that Delta does not fly non-stop to Des Moines from any New York area airport. I’d have to change in Detroit, Atlanta, Memphis or Minneapolis/St. Paul, with 5 hours and 10 minutes as the shortest elapsed time for the journey, airport-to-airport. Better luck next time.
Friday, July 13, 2012
"This has the potential to ruin you completely" was the subject line of another recent E-mail message that I received, which continued:
Hello alanonthewestside,
I have a proof that you broke into my email and stole my private photos and financial information. It can be clearly seen in the files attached to this message. If you don’t respond within 48 hours I will have to report you.
BrandenRathkeoighy@gmail.com was my correspondent. Of course, the gentleman is unknown to me and I had no inclination to open the attached files, which, I suspect, would have set back the course of information technology at the courthouse several semesters. I could not resist, however, sending a reply, to wit: To whom will you be reporting me? I’d like to dress appropriately for the occasion.
This morning, Yahoo’s 10" long error message arrived informing me that my attempt at dialogue with Branden has failed. After all, it is Friday the Thirteenth.
Another man was on the elevator when I got on this morning on the way to work. He was also middle-aged, as I like to describe myself. However, he was about 5'6", 140 pounds; no chance that we would be mistaken one for the other. What interested me was his T-shirt which read San Francisco XXL. Now, he was not swimming in this T-shirt. It fit him quit well, so there was no chance that the shirt had ever been properly descriptive, and that bothered me as a genuine XXL. Were I to be hastily looking for a T-shirt and grabbed this San Francisco XXL, I might wind up embarrassing myself, shocking bystanders and destroying a T-shirt. If you can’t trust a T-shirt, what can you trust?
Can you trust Andrew Zimmern, chef and food writer, who identifies his Top 10 Places to Eat Asian Food in NYC in the current Food & Wine magazine (thanks to Cindy W.M. for the reference)? We differ immediately because Zimmern encompasses all of the Big Apple, while I restrict myself to its Chinatown core. Nevertheless, we converge at places.
His list:
Congee Bowery Restaurant & Bar, 207 Bowery (Chinese)
Xi’an Famous Foods, 67 Bayard Street (although the article links to the no-seat 88 East Broadway location) (Chinese)
Dim Sum Go Go, 5 East Broadway (Chinese)
Jewel Bako, 239 East 5th Street (Japanese)
Sushi Yasuda, 204 East 43rd Street (Japanese)
Bar Chuko, 552 Vanderbilt Avenue, Brooklyn (Japanese)
Momofuku Noodle Bar, 171 First Avenue (Japanese)
Kum Gang San, 49 West 32nd Street (Korean)
Minangasli, 86-10 Whitney Avenue, Flushing (Indonesian)
Kin Shop, 469 Sixth Avenue (Thai)
Xi’an and Go Go have warranted repeated visits by me, and are unquestionably in metropolitan Chinatown. I admit to missing Congee Bowery, a sister to Congee Village, 100 Allen Street (August 15, 2011) and Congee Chinese Restaurant, 98 Bowery (May 9, 2011). My rationale, or excuse if you wish, is Congee Bowery’s location, which according to Google maps is .8 miles away, but two blocks north of Delancey Street. In fact, Congee Village has been the furthest reach of my lunch hour explorations, at .9 miles, but still south of Delancey Street. If this makes no sense to you, rent "Crossing Delancey," the 1988 romantic comedy starring Amy Irving, which the New York Times reviewed under the headline “Learning to Appreciate a Mr. Right Who Sells Pickles and Tells Jokes.”
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Today’s paper reports that 70 Stuyvesant High School students were involved in a pattern of smartphone-enabled cheating during a citywide language exam on June 18. Cellphones are officially not permitted in city schools, and when officials looked into a 16-year-old junior’s phone, they found a trail of text messages, including photos of test pages, that suggested pupils had been sharing information about exams while they were taking them. All the students involved will have to retake the exams, and some have been notified "that some of their class privileges, including the right to leave school for lunch or be members of school leadership organizations like the Student Union, an important college résumé-building activity, would be revoked." The Times says that the disseminator of the information and four others may face suspension. Here’s where I suspend my credentials as a wishy-washy liberal and show some Old Testament vengeance. First, the kid who sent the images – out. Second, recipients of the messages who responded (and that’s how the other 69 were identified) positively ("Thanks, bro.") – out. Third, recipients of the messages who responded negatively ("No way.") – retake the exam and then leave it alone. Fourth, recipients of the messages who responded ambiguously ("Wassup with this?") – retake the exam and 20 hours in an ethics course. Of course, there is no way to prevent the most culpable from eventually leading global financial enterprises.
Yahoo flashed a blurb this morning for the One Quality of Happy Marriages and I won’t argue with their choice of Empathy. However, I was taken by the byline on the linked article: Julie Hanks, LCSW, is Sharecare Now's #1 Online Depression Influencer.
Sharecare Now apparently is a web site devoted to Q&A about health issues. But, how about Julie’s title? Actually, I think I know several depression influencers, but I never regarded that as a compliment. And, how would you feel coming in #2? Wouldn’t that be depressing?
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
S.J. Perelman said, "I don’t know much about medicine, but I know what I like." I share this point of view and, fortunately, have America’s Favorite Epidemiologist nearby to examine and explain medical information that may be relevant to me. However, I have noted a favorable health trend even by my inexpert standards. The number of cancer-ridden African widows seems to have declined sharply. I’m not sure whether better hygiene and sanitation, early detection, anti-retroviral drugs and/or prayer have made the difference, but I rarely hear from these desperate folk who merely seek to arrange in their waning days to share their wealth with those who are not now and never have been employed by Bain Capital.
On the other hand, my Spam filter caught this gem recently:
Order Notification,
E-TICKET / EH151194395
SEAT / 42F/ZONE 1
DATE / TIME 23 JUNE, 2012, 09:25 PM
ARRIVING / Des Moines
FORM OF PAYMENT / XXXXXX
TOTAL PRICE / 222.66 USD
REF / KE.2398 ST / OK
BAG / 7PC
Your ticket is attached.
To use your ticket you should print it.
Thank you for your attention.
Delta Air Lines.
Attached was a file which I left untouched. While I may begrudgingly credit these Spamster Scamsters for some of their devious ploys, I was disappointed to think that they imagined that I would risk the sanctity of my computer system by the lure of a ticket to Des Moines. Come on. If they have been reading my e-mail lately, they know I’ve been to Asia and the Middle East this year so far. Wouldn’t it be more appropriate to try to seduce me with a ticket to Sydney, Buenos Aires, Tokyo, Capetown or Sofia? And, in case my wanderlust was at a heightened state and I was ready to go just about anywhere, I checked and found out that Delta does not fly non-stop to Des Moines from any New York area airport. I’d have to change in Detroit, Atlanta, Memphis or Minneapolis/St. Paul, with 5 hours and 10 minutes as the shortest elapsed time for the journey, airport-to-airport. Better luck next time.
Friday, July 13, 2012
"This has the potential to ruin you completely" was the subject line of another recent E-mail message that I received, which continued:
Hello alanonthewestside,
I have a proof that you broke into my email and stole my private photos and financial information. It can be clearly seen in the files attached to this message. If you don’t respond within 48 hours I will have to report you.
BrandenRathkeoighy@gmail.com was my correspondent. Of course, the gentleman is unknown to me and I had no inclination to open the attached files, which, I suspect, would have set back the course of information technology at the courthouse several semesters. I could not resist, however, sending a reply, to wit: To whom will you be reporting me? I’d like to dress appropriately for the occasion.
This morning, Yahoo’s 10" long error message arrived informing me that my attempt at dialogue with Branden has failed. After all, it is Friday the Thirteenth.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Food For Thought
Monday, July 2, 2012
I did not do justice to Peter Madoff the other day when I described the crowd of reporters and photographers waiting for him to exit the Moynihan Federal Courthouse after his guilty plea. Peter, Bernie’s little brother, continued to deny that he had any role in the multi-billion dollar Ponzi scheme. The New York Law Journal quoted him as being “in total shock” when he learned of the monumental fraud. There are two interesting aspects to his denial: 1) Peter was the chief compliance officer for Bernie’s investment business which raises the question of what he did at work all day; 2) Peter confessed to several crimes, notably skipping paying income taxes on $40 million earnings, that were unconnected to Bernie’s own illegal endeavors. In other words, Peter cheated because he could. He apparently would have cheated the IRS even if he earned money selling Girl Scout cookies. There is a certain purity in his approach.
Long Xin Restaurant, 50 Eldridge Street, is open about one year, but it eluded me until today. It is a bright, open place with room for almost twice as many round tables as the eight now in place. It was also fairly busy, with Chinese occupants at every table, all except the French grandmother, mother and daughter right behind me. Its bright red back wall had the traditional phoenix and dragon glaring at each other and the vaulted ceiling is entirely covered by panels of blue sky and clouds. The two flat-panel televisions were turned off.
The menu has 62 lunch specials at $5.50 which include soup. I asked for Singapore chow fun instead, one of my signature dishes, when I saw that they served chow fun and Singapore mai fun. It took a while to convince two different waitresses that I knew what I was asking for, but they delivered an enormous portion of Singapore chow fun ($7.95) with all the expected ingredients (shrimp, pork, egg, green pepper, red pepper, red onions, bean sprouts) and some toasted sesame seeds sprinkled on top of the curry-flavored noodles. It was very good, but I was only able to eat 61% of it. Service was spotty; I was not offered tea and my water glass was not refilled. Otherwise a decent joint.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
This is an extraordinary day. I know 5 people who were born on this day and, of course, I wish them all a Happy Birthday, in ascending order: Meredith S., Nate P., Carl H., Aryeh G. and David G. They encompass a span of 50 years and all of them have done well for themselves and others.
Fruit News:
Trader Joe's has donut peaches, which they call Saturn peaches, at $2.99 for 20 ounces. That's a bargain considering that Fairway is selling them at $3.99 a pound and the best deal I've seen in Chinatown in the last two weeks was 5 peaches, not pounds, for $5, an unacceptable proposition.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
I realize that not all of you are fortunate enough to be able to eat lunch in Chinatown every weekday, so I thought that I would share information from the latest issue of Consumer's Report with you, if you are not a subscriber. Based on 47,565 survey responses, CR rated chain restaurants. In sum, CR found that nine chains "earned especially high marks across the board for the four attributes in our Ratings -- taste, value, service, and mood -- and were praised for menu variety, cleanliness, and a lack of noise." This could be as good or better than Grandpa Alan's culinary guidance.
The notable nine are:
Biaggi's Ristorante Italiano
Black Angus Steakhouse
Bob Evans
Bravo Cucina Italiana
First Watch
J. Alexander's
Le Peep
Elmer's
Fatz Eatz & Drinkz
CR claims that their respondents reported on 110,517 visits to arrive at the ratings. The result was that I was anxious to enjoy meals characterized by good taste, value, service, and mood, and I began my research -- where are these places? Are you sitting down? You can’t get there from here.
Biaggi’s has one listing in New York -- New York State, that is, not New York City. In fact, Biaggi’s is located in Victor, NY, which is closer to Canandaigua than to Canarsie. A Black Angus Restaurant opened in late 1945 at 148 East 50th Street, after WWII ended and food supplies opened up. Entrees started at $1.10 and cocktails from 45 cents, according to http://www.tipsontables.com/BlackAngus.html. Today, however, 2290 Wyoming Boulevard, Albuquerque, New Mexico is the nearest location of a Black Angus Steakhouse if you want to pursue CR’s attributes for a hefty protein fix. Bob Evans has eight New York locations, Jamestown, Batavia, Corning, Williamsville, Niagara Falls, Dunkirk, Amherst and Watertown. You don’t have to be a geography maven to know that none of these cities are, in the words of George M. Cohan, 45 minutes from Broadway. Not even by helicopter.
Bravo Cucina Italiana can be found as close as Willow Grove, Pennsylvania, a bit north of Philadelphia. First Watch, apparently a breakfast delight, can be found in 14 states, but you’ll have to decide between Pittsburgh and Cranberry Township, Pennsylvania if you live at or near the Palazzo di Gotthelf. J. Alexander’s can be found in 13 states, but no closer than 5845 Landerbrook Drive, Cleveland, Ohio. Le Peep, evoking chickens and eggs and limiting itself to breakfast and lunch, comes seductively close, by comparison, at 561 Route 1 & Plainfield Ave, Edison, New Jersey, about seven miles from my brother’s home. Elmer’s serves breakfast, lunch and dinner, and has a spot in Albany – Albany, Oregon that is. If that’s inconvenient, they also operate in Idaho, Washington and California. I’m not going to calculate which location is closest, because, if I’m going to take a 5-6 hour flight for a meal, I’m heading to Paris. Fatz Eatz & Drinkz may be harder to reach than Paris, because I can’t find its web site. However, it seems to be concentrated in the southeastern United States, with headquarters in Taylors, South Carolina.
So there you have it. If you want a tasty meal at good value with nice service in a pleasant mood, you might as well come with me to Chinatown, or forget mood and go to your mother's.
I did not do justice to Peter Madoff the other day when I described the crowd of reporters and photographers waiting for him to exit the Moynihan Federal Courthouse after his guilty plea. Peter, Bernie’s little brother, continued to deny that he had any role in the multi-billion dollar Ponzi scheme. The New York Law Journal quoted him as being “in total shock” when he learned of the monumental fraud. There are two interesting aspects to his denial: 1) Peter was the chief compliance officer for Bernie’s investment business which raises the question of what he did at work all day; 2) Peter confessed to several crimes, notably skipping paying income taxes on $40 million earnings, that were unconnected to Bernie’s own illegal endeavors. In other words, Peter cheated because he could. He apparently would have cheated the IRS even if he earned money selling Girl Scout cookies. There is a certain purity in his approach.
Long Xin Restaurant, 50 Eldridge Street, is open about one year, but it eluded me until today. It is a bright, open place with room for almost twice as many round tables as the eight now in place. It was also fairly busy, with Chinese occupants at every table, all except the French grandmother, mother and daughter right behind me. Its bright red back wall had the traditional phoenix and dragon glaring at each other and the vaulted ceiling is entirely covered by panels of blue sky and clouds. The two flat-panel televisions were turned off.
The menu has 62 lunch specials at $5.50 which include soup. I asked for Singapore chow fun instead, one of my signature dishes, when I saw that they served chow fun and Singapore mai fun. It took a while to convince two different waitresses that I knew what I was asking for, but they delivered an enormous portion of Singapore chow fun ($7.95) with all the expected ingredients (shrimp, pork, egg, green pepper, red pepper, red onions, bean sprouts) and some toasted sesame seeds sprinkled on top of the curry-flavored noodles. It was very good, but I was only able to eat 61% of it. Service was spotty; I was not offered tea and my water glass was not refilled. Otherwise a decent joint.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
This is an extraordinary day. I know 5 people who were born on this day and, of course, I wish them all a Happy Birthday, in ascending order: Meredith S., Nate P., Carl H., Aryeh G. and David G. They encompass a span of 50 years and all of them have done well for themselves and others.
Fruit News:
Trader Joe's has donut peaches, which they call Saturn peaches, at $2.99 for 20 ounces. That's a bargain considering that Fairway is selling them at $3.99 a pound and the best deal I've seen in Chinatown in the last two weeks was 5 peaches, not pounds, for $5, an unacceptable proposition.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
I realize that not all of you are fortunate enough to be able to eat lunch in Chinatown every weekday, so I thought that I would share information from the latest issue of Consumer's Report with you, if you are not a subscriber. Based on 47,565 survey responses, CR rated chain restaurants. In sum, CR found that nine chains "earned especially high marks across the board for the four attributes in our Ratings -- taste, value, service, and mood -- and were praised for menu variety, cleanliness, and a lack of noise." This could be as good or better than Grandpa Alan's culinary guidance.
The notable nine are:
Biaggi's Ristorante Italiano
Black Angus Steakhouse
Bob Evans
Bravo Cucina Italiana
First Watch
J. Alexander's
Le Peep
Elmer's
Fatz Eatz & Drinkz
CR claims that their respondents reported on 110,517 visits to arrive at the ratings. The result was that I was anxious to enjoy meals characterized by good taste, value, service, and mood, and I began my research -- where are these places? Are you sitting down? You can’t get there from here.
Biaggi’s has one listing in New York -- New York State, that is, not New York City. In fact, Biaggi’s is located in Victor, NY, which is closer to Canandaigua than to Canarsie. A Black Angus Restaurant opened in late 1945 at 148 East 50th Street, after WWII ended and food supplies opened up. Entrees started at $1.10 and cocktails from 45 cents, according to http://www.tipsontables.com/BlackAngus.html. Today, however, 2290 Wyoming Boulevard, Albuquerque, New Mexico is the nearest location of a Black Angus Steakhouse if you want to pursue CR’s attributes for a hefty protein fix. Bob Evans has eight New York locations, Jamestown, Batavia, Corning, Williamsville, Niagara Falls, Dunkirk, Amherst and Watertown. You don’t have to be a geography maven to know that none of these cities are, in the words of George M. Cohan, 45 minutes from Broadway. Not even by helicopter.
Bravo Cucina Italiana can be found as close as Willow Grove, Pennsylvania, a bit north of Philadelphia. First Watch, apparently a breakfast delight, can be found in 14 states, but you’ll have to decide between Pittsburgh and Cranberry Township, Pennsylvania if you live at or near the Palazzo di Gotthelf. J. Alexander’s can be found in 13 states, but no closer than 5845 Landerbrook Drive, Cleveland, Ohio. Le Peep, evoking chickens and eggs and limiting itself to breakfast and lunch, comes seductively close, by comparison, at 561 Route 1 & Plainfield Ave, Edison, New Jersey, about seven miles from my brother’s home. Elmer’s serves breakfast, lunch and dinner, and has a spot in Albany – Albany, Oregon that is. If that’s inconvenient, they also operate in Idaho, Washington and California. I’m not going to calculate which location is closest, because, if I’m going to take a 5-6 hour flight for a meal, I’m heading to Paris. Fatz Eatz & Drinkz may be harder to reach than Paris, because I can’t find its web site. However, it seems to be concentrated in the southeastern United States, with headquarters in Taylors, South Carolina.
So there you have it. If you want a tasty meal at good value with nice service in a pleasant mood, you might as well come with me to Chinatown, or forget mood and go to your mother's.
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