Posts from — September 2008
So, I sent an Open Letter to Ruby Tuesday via their website where they ask for feedback. They responded in a surprisingly fast 12 hours.
*I changed his phone number in a brief (and fleeting) moment of consciousness.
Soooo, what do ya’ll think? Should I call? And if so, what should I say to him? I feel like “voice to voice” is super awk. Please feel free to leave thoughts/potential questions/name-calling suggestions in the comments section.
September 18, 2008 3 Comments
Dear Ruby Tuesday,
Congrats on killing any of what little desire I had to eat at an “upscale” franchise! Last night, my friends and I had the worst effing dining experience of our lives. Omgwtf kind of ship are you asshats running over there in Chinatown? I get it. You’re a crappy chain restaurant, and maybe we were just messing around when we decided to enter your establishment. But, Modig had never had the pleasure of eating at this cornerstone of suburban casual dining and we just had to show her some good ol’ fashioned chain restaurant eats. We’ve all seen your commercials where you urge us to do our tastebuds a favor and head on over for some friendly, enthusiastic service. We bought your cloyingly folksy promises when you announced SIMPLE FRESH AMERICAN DINING on the outside of your restaurant. Apparently “simple fresh American dining” means a horrendously bad waiter, and even worse food.
Never before have I witnessed the mayhem of the clusterfuck that was YOUR restaurant last night. I don’t think there was a single person in the entire place that was experiencing anything close to a simple dining experience. If simple means “wait until your hair turns gray before anyone even acknowledges your presence” then you’ve hit the nail on the head! I watched multiple tables just get up and leave — exasperated, frustrated and still hungry Unfortunately, we decided to stick it out and ended up shackled to your table at the mercy of your slow, inattentive, dimwit of a waiter who failed to get our orders right, clear the tables or refill any of our drinks.
Props to the poor busboy who had to field all our requests while our actual waiter was off in LaLa Land with the rest of Team Worthless. Who are these jokers you have standing around idly at the hostess station? Not to mention the manager who, despite getting reamed out by basically every customer in the restaurant, failed to make any attempts to quiet the angry crowd. Not only should you have comped my meal, but you should have paid me for having to endure your tasteless, joyless wasteland. I won’t even waste time complaining about how bad the food was. Even after setting the bar embarrassingly low it still failed to meet even the bare minimum of culinary expectation, and was edible at best. I thought I was safe ordering chicken tenders, but obvs I was wrong. They were a bready, gross mess served with a side of mashed potatoes (which I didn’t want but our waiter, who had the memory of a goldfish, could not seem to remember) that tasted like wallpaper paste and some limp, watery frozen broccoli. Barf.
Needless to say, I will NEVER be going back and will vehemently reject any further suggestions to return. Goodbyeeee Ruby Tuesday but unlike the Rolling Stones, I’m NOT gonna miss you.
September 15, 2008 1 Comment
OK, so you can’t bitch to him about your sig other but he can get your bro soda in under 2 minutes, which prevents you from becoming the filling in a sweaty douchebag sandwich while you frantically wave air-traffic controller style at the bartender just to get his attention.
Howevs, for $200k, can’t they teach him how to make me a vodka soda?
September 12, 2008 1 Comment
There are alot of things I miss now that I live in DC; my family, my dog, my eyebrow lady, Pinkberry, good bagels, and PIZZA (just to name a few). One of my favorite kinds of pizza is the woefully underrrated, ugly stepsister, of a regular cheese and sauce slice. Don’t get me wrong, great sauce is as important to a good slice as much as the crust is, but if you’ve had a good white slice, it can be a culinary epiphany.
I’ve been on a quest to find some decent pizza in the District, but sadly nothing has been up to par. I even resorted to trying the chains. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands using regular ingredients from the supermarket. I’m totes a pizza snob and sadly, refrigerated pizza crust is better than most of the pizza I’ve had in DC … so this is pretty much an idiot-proof “recipe.”
1 refrigerated pizza crust (I used Pillsbury)
8 oz. package of shredded mozzarella (you can use fresh too if you’ve got it)
1/2 c. ricotta cheese
Beano’s Classical White Pizza Sauce*
grated parmesan cheese
salt, pepper, garlic powder to taste
1. Spray a cookie sheet (you can also use a pizza stone, in which case no need to grease) with non-stick cooking spray or a drizzle of olive oil. Unroll the refrigerated pizza dough and stretch until it fills the pan or stone.
2. Drizzle pizza dough with white pizza sauce, followed by a drizzle of olive oil. Spread across dough while making sure to leave a 1/2 in. border on the outside for the crust.
3. Sprinkle liberally with shredded cheese (you’ll probs use the whole 8 oz. bag). Using a spoon, dollop the ricotta cheese all over the pizza so that each slice gets a bit of the creamy cheese. Mmmm.
4. Season with salt, pepper, and garlic powder to taste. Finish with a liberal sprinkling of parmesan cheese.
5. Bake according to the refrigerated dough’s package directions.
6. Scarf while avoiding the dreaded pizza burn from premature eating.
Sidenote: You can get pretty creative with toppings, etc. but I was feeling particularly lazy when I made this. Not to mention, I’m a white pizza purist.
*If you can’t find Beano’s, you can substitute a couple of chopped cloves of garlic mixed with olive oil and some italian seasoning.
September 8, 2008 1 Comment
They say the first step onto the road to recovery is admitting you have a problem. And I do. I’m an addict.
A Pinkberry addict.
I know that sounds ridiculous. But I need rehab as badly as Amy Winehouse. At the height of my addiction I was having Pinkberry every day of the week, and sometimes twice on weekends. I even let the distance to the nearest Pinkberry influence my last apartment hunt. I put in an application for an apartment with a SIX FLOOR WALK-UP because it was 2 blocks from a Pinkberry. Thankfully, some other Pinkberry addict was more qualified to get the apartment. So you can just imagine how sad I was when I realized my move to DC would not only separate me from friends and family, but it was (gasp) 232 miles to the nearest Pinkberry. (And yes, I Google mapped it.)
I just licked my screen. Seriously.
232 miles from the frozen deliciousness that is Pinkberry (tear)!! As a California import, this Korean-owned frozen yogurt franchise has a cult-like following that has many wondering what all the fuss is about. Touted as “the taste that launched 1000 parking tickets” by the LA Times, in New York there are lines down the block for the icy treat during the summer months. It’s tart, fresh yogurt flavor is either loved or despised (but mostly loved). The plain topped with fruit and mochi (sweet rice cakes that are not on the menu but are a well-known topping for regulars) is my usual go-to order, creating one of the most perfect flavor combinations I’ve ever experienced. They also have green tea and coffee flavored yogurt as well as other toppings of the non-fruit variety (carob chips, coconut, granola, various types of cereal), but I prefer not to muddy the purity of the plain yogurt taste with overembellishment (although I hear Fruity Pebbles is a pretty bomb topping). It is refreshing, satisfying and not cloyingly sweet … pretty much the opposite of Tasti D’s offering of flavored whipped air with its unique fresh from the laboratory taste.
So if you’re ever in the vicinity (i.e. closer than 232 miles) of a Pinkberry shop, stop in for a taste of heaven (everybody’s doin’ it) and be prepared to be assaulted by all types of Asian-y cuteness — from the pastel walls to the Alessi wares on display for purchase. But first timers, beware … what starts with a spoonful of innocuous, kind of weird tasting froyo could lead you down the path to full blown pawning-your-worldly-possessions-and-
Howevs, finally someone has answered the District’s NEED for froyo. And this someone is: Mr. Yogato.
DOMO ARIGATO, MR. YOGATO!! Mr. Yogato is the breath of fresh air that I needed in this horrendously humid and oppressive DC heat. Located at 1515 17th St. NW (at Q St.), stepping into Mr. Yogato is like going to a frozen treat playground. The fun dry erase board with lots of fun questions and graffiti is totally reminiscent of the one you had on your dorm room door in college (sans the dirty stick figure pictures and blacked out ramblings). It displays the flavors of the day, as well as various things that can get you a discount on your froyo (i.e. for 10% off: order like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo, stamp your forehead with a Yogato stamp, or answer the trivia question of the day). The employees are helpful and friendly, ready to give you as many tasty samples as you’d like. They were even game when we sent our friend there on a fake safari scavenger hunt (don’t ask). But the all-time most amazing thing about Mr. Yogato is that you can get an exact Pinkberry replica.
Mr. Yogato has 2 flavors that are offered all the time, original soft and original tangy, along with a couple of other flavors that rotate weekly. If you’re a fan of Pinkberry (AND IF YOU’RE NOT LEAVE MY SITE, RIGHT NOW), the original tangy is a dead ringer for it. It is a bit creamier than Pinkberry, but still has that addicting yet refreshing tang. As an added bonus, I can get all of my favorite toppings (even the mochi!!). Mr. Y also offers a couple of toppings gratis, that range from normal (like sprinkles and Hershey’s syrup) to deliciously strange (olive oil and balsamic vinagrette). As my friend Nick would say, it gives me blood flow.
And although I still travel 232 miles to worship at the House of Pinkberry, now I can travel LESS THAN A MILE for the next best thing.
September 4, 2008 1 Comment