The Natural Order of Things

This is a promise. You pick the cuisine. You pick the restaurant. We will order you under the goddamn table. We will order so much, the waiter will try and stop us. So much that our dinner companions will flee. And the owner will call our families to help stage an intervention.

Though there are only two of us, we are like the eater version of those Spartans in 300: outmanned and outgunned, but never outchewed. Never that.

Here's how it will work: We will order appetizers, and then we will order some side dishes as appetizers, and then we may order some appetizers to arrive before the actual appetizer course. In other words, we will invent a course. You might call them pre-appetizers. The cheese course doesn't really count because it will last about twelve seconds.

Then, if you make the mistake of choosing Italian, we will order a pasta course. And, why yes, we would like the tri-color salad with Gorgonzola, thank you for asking. After the main courses, and copious side dishes, we will take it easy on dessert. And order a cookie plate and cappuccinos, while we take it easy. Then we will order dessert and take that down like a cobra on a mongoose.

Sounds like bragging? Go ahead and try us.

We're begging you.

The Short Rib Gamble

Whenever you look at a menu with continental fare, there are always three sure things: salmon, a chicken dish and a steak. A chef would have to be a real idiot to mess those up. But it happens. And what is worse than a bad piece of salmon? A thumb in your eye.

The ultimate wildcard is when you see short ribs on the menu. If prepared well, short ribs may taste like the greatest thing you have ever eaten. If they are crappy and fatty, Marley the dog wouldn't touch them. You need to have faith in the restaurant, that they will have the discipline necessary to buy quality meat and slow cook it the way that it needs to be.

We have had them on several occasions, and have seen both extremes. Which is why we are hesitant to order them, and we will only do so if both of us are having them. Because if one of us is going down with a crappy meal, then both of us are going down with a crappy meal.

That's called team spirit. In our world, at least.

TFW's Tips for Living Like Us, Part I

You have a sore throat? Instead of cough drops, substitute candy. Cough drops are B.S. anyway, and this way, you get the sugar to hop you up, along with the taste. Because ever since those Pine Bros. dandies disappeared, cough drops taste like highway gravel coated in menthol. We would rather be waterboarded than pop a Halls.

Hard candy is best—Lemon Drops, Atomic Fireballs, Runts (especially good for children) and even Gobstoppers—but we find any sugar candy will do. Just no candy bars, but that goes without saying, does it not?

No Bourdain, No Gain

Most people, if granted one wish would ask for world peace or to meet Jesus. Important stuff like that. We wish we could be friends with Anthony Bourdain. Close personal friends. Like a trio of best friends.

He is totally our kind of guy. His show "No Reservations" starts broadcasting new episodes on January 5th and they look tremendous. Not sure if you have seen it, but you should.

On the show, AB basically eats his way across the globe. Sometimes he eats gross stuff, but usually he gets in a few phenomenal meals per location. (One thing we already have in common.) The episode filmed in Colombia, is nearly poetic.

We’d become fast friends with Anthony Bourdain. Since he is already a celebrity, we would have to work extra hard to keep it that way. We would begin what would best be described as a charm offensive, something that we have proven surprisingly adept at. (Those people at Lennys would take a bullet for either of us.)

Laughing at his jokes, disarming him with stories of our own eating exploits, basically kissing his butt all for the single goal of two seats on his traveling dining room in the sky.

Why are we so confident that this would happen? Easy. We are very likable people. Or so we hear. Life of the party, delightful dinner companions, basically, two valuable additions to any kind of event where eating happens.

Personality, looks, smarts. Humility. We’re like an instant entourage that any famous chef would be proud to call his or her own. (We’re first-come, first-served, Giada, in case you were wondering.)

Our lives would be instantly transformed and we are not referring to the combined 75 pounds we would pack on in the first six months.

He would be the tour guide, as we traveled the world. He’d sample the monkey brains, we’d eat the lamb tikka. He would take down some lemur lasagna, we’d have the lamb chops until the seams in our jumpsuits made us stop. We would laugh and joke the three of us, and it wouldn’t be at all weird because we would be too busy tasting to have any awkward conversations. Oh man, it would be too good for words, beyond this one: yum.

By the way, we hope you have a wonderful 2009. You are so very important to us.

See? Our charm offensive is a thing of beauty, isn’t it?

T'is the Season

Fact: We’re good eaters.

Which is why the holidays is when we truly shine. Not that we need an excuse to test out the latest in pastries, but it does make them all the more accessible.

It has been a non-stop month of holiday dinners, brunches and snacking. At about midnight on Christmas I actually felt defeated, declaring mid-bite, “I just can’t chew anymore.” So I took a break.

There was some baking done on our end as well this year, which makes it all the more rewarding while eating. I took one of Giada’s Macaroon recipes and made it come to life. It took a lot, not to finish them before arriving at the fam’s house. Thankfully there were enough to go around when I got there. While making them I did not think the simple act of adding cranberries to these coconut bites would cause such an uproar. Family members left and right were in disbelief. “Who ever heard of putting cranberries in macaroons?” asked dad (several times). They’re related so they still tried them of course. To their surprise they loved them too, so went back for more. Success.

Another fact: We also like to make sure our friends and families eat well. It worries us when they don’t.

If The Jumpsuit Fits...

Holiday eating is not without its consequences, especially in a world where all pants are not of the sweatpant variety. You know, with an elastic waist.

Because when you send a few consecutive days chewing and swallowing everything that is either salty or sweet, there is no exercise in the world that will prevent weight gain. Our solution for next year is simple: to wear jumpsuits.

After careful analysis, we have concluded that a zip-front, one-piece racing suit is invaluable for aggressive eaters such as ourselves. Beyond the obvious style points, it will also, crucially, permit the kind of motion that one needs to reach across the coffee table to scarf yet another appetizer, while pretending to listen to what someone is saying about their kids.

And instead of being sponsored by car companies and such, we will affix patches that pay tribute to our favorite brands. Hostess, Entemanns and Wonka. Or even a photograph of a giant piece of cheese on the back. Whatever. We are still brainstorming, remember.

Toward the end, we have begun reaching out to designers to make our dream a reality. Perhaps Halston. Or Margiela. Whoever it may turn out to be, we know two thing about our jumpsuits: 1) they will match and 2) we will look totally badass as we rapidly fill them up.

For better or worse.

Eating Our Words

There are adjectives that elicit reactions deep within us when we read them on menus. The bad ones are obvious: A la carte. Lite. Boiled. Petite.
But the good adjectives—at least in the places that we frequent—are thankfully more plentiful. And descriptive. And they too elicit reactions. Nearly physical ones. Like drooling. That kind of physical.

Here are some of our favorites:

Frosted (as in Donuts)
Fried (as in French Fries)
Melted (as in Cheese)
Stuffed (as in Mushrooms)
Filled (as in Pie)
Sauteéd (as in Shrimp)
Shaved (as in Truffles)
Sprinkled (as in Jimmys)
Infused (as in Vodka)
Deep-Fried (as in Chicken)
Baked (as in Chocolate Cake)
Braised (as in Osso Buco)
Barbecued (as in Ribs)