28 October 2009

28Oct - for no reason, really

22 October 2009

22Oct- Random Thoughts

Being alone does different things to different people. Some people crave it and only find the revitalization they sometimes seek during moments of solitude. There are others who must be around other people for their energy, as though they feed off the life of others. And, as it is with those who want children and those who don’t, it can be difficult for one party to understand the needs of the other.
I see these dynamics work at the restaurant. We have several regulars who come in, primarily, by themselves. They’re content to sit at a table with a book or a newspaper, sometimes nothing at all, and enjoy their meal. As a person who relishes their alone time I understand their decision and am gratified that they’ve chosen our restaurant as one where they can be alone.
And we’ve got customers who are always here with friends and groups of people. They’re often possessed of bigger personalities and, as with the loners, I appreciate that these more social people have found us worthy of sharing with friends, family, and colleagues.
Now, of course, I realize that sometimes the nature of going out is that it’s something one doesn’t always do so how they choose to go out isn’t always indicative of that person’s personality in their day to day. Maybe our loners are always around other people, always entertaining at home, and surrounded by people so much that, when they find an evening to themselves, they seek out the solitude of the table for one. And perhaps the social animals I see are, in fact, much more sedate in their “real” lives and only when they feel it do they invite friends out.
One never knows. One of our servers was surprised to learn that I’m not a social character. I’m outgoing here at the restaurant, of course, but once on my own I rarely seek out the company of others. I’m comfortable with people seeking out mine and will often head out if asked but there are perhaps three or four people in my life whose company I actively request.
I don’t know where I’m going with this. Looks can be deceiving, maybe? From the public social butterfly who’s actually a wallflower to the person who’s normally as sweet as can be but just once has a terrible day and snaps at their server. From the bottle of wine from the great producer that happens to be a dud to the gas station in the middle of nowhere that’s got the best damn fried chicken you’ve ever tried.
You never know. Don’t take anything for granted. Never underestimate. I suppose there’s a lot that can be read into it.
Take what you will.

07 October 2009

07Oct- ran across this the other day

I vaguely remember writing it.


C: Good evening.
B: Good evening, sir. How may we help you.
C: I’d like to try something a bit different.
B: Excellent, sir, we specialize in different. Do you have anything in mind?
C: No, not in particular. Is there anything you’d suggest?
B: So glad you asked. (reaches underneath bar and brings up a bottle, which he presents to CUSTOMER) Here we have Dingo's Cuss, a shiraz from the outskirts of Pemberton, Australia. Fascinating thing about this is that its 12 hectares of vineyards are planted above an ancient Aborigine burial ground.
C: Ancient Aborigine burial ground?
B: Yes, its roots dig deep into the mysticism of their culture. Touch of bramble on the nose, lovely, plump mouth feel and a long, pervasive finish that, if you're in the right state of mind, will wake you up suddenly in the middle of the night experiencing what the Aboriginal grape-pickers call "Terroir sweats". They say it’s some sort of outback, mystical revenge, I call it character.
C: Sounds dreadful.
B: Quite right, sir. Delightfully so. I don’t think you’d be disappointed.
C: Well, I hardly think I’d ever be in the mood for the juice of fruits fed by a bed of dead-man casserole, whether they be mystical or not. I don't think I'm ready for that.
B: Few are. Few are. For the less sacrilegious palette might I suggest this Pouilly-Fume from Domaine Silence. (puts away the bottle and brings up another one) Each grape is hand-picked in total silence by mimes.
C: Hmm? Yes? And what does this noiseless harvest impart to the wine?
B: I’m glad you asked, sir. This wine is so expertly, so carefully made that not a single taste, nary a flavor remains in it. Not even the hint of a bouquet.
C: (indignant) What’s the point, then?
B: Sir, it’s not at all easy to achieve this effect. Much like the pianist who has such control that he can play an entire sonata, pressing each key to its fullest, and not a sound can be heard, this wine is a shining example of talent and restraint. And a bargain at $25 dollars a glass.
C: $25! For a glass of water made by mutes?
B: Ah, ah. Mimes. World of difference.
C: Not- to me. Next, please. It may take a quiet person to make it but it would certainly take a dumb one buy it.
B: How very droll, sir. I shall have to remember that one. (puts away bottle and brings up another one) Perhaps something a little more like this? It's called Indulgence. It's a California wine made in so pure a French, old-world style that the vignerons have gone so far as to import actual French soil from the Languedoc region to their property.
C: Goodness.
B: It doesn't end there. Each vine comes from a pre-phylloxera, original, non-cloned plant. The vineyard is carefully situated on hills landscaped to mimic the soil's native topography and a monstrous geodesic dome has been erected over the entire vineyard in which carefully designed weather machines help to re-create a very specific terroir.
C: Why didn't they just stay in France?
B: The owners are local to California. And are afraid to fly.
C: Oh.
B: The story continues, for the family that owns Indulgence can never leave their dome, for if they do, they are sure to be assassinated by one of the many snipers the Mondavis have hidden in the hills.
C: Fascinating. And the wine itself?
B: Not that great.
C: (frustrated) Not that great! Then why even offer it?
B: It's got a hell of a back story.
C: Well, what do you have that is great, not grown in the final resting place of an indigenous peoples or so carefully produced that it tastes of nothing?!
B: My, you do have a discriminating palette. Why don't you tell me what you'd like me to present you with and we'll see what we can do?
C: Very well. How about something from Bordeaux?
B: What region?
C: Paulliac, if possible.
B: Absolutely possible. And have I got something you should appreciate. Deep within the bowels of the special cellar, tucked safely away under the '61 Bordeaux, there lives a '45 Chateau Latour.
C: (instantly interested) Yes?
B: Truly amazing.
C: Yes?
B: Layered more densely and complexly than the strata of the earth.
C: (more interested) Yes?
B: So warm and rich with a pleasant vegetal touch to it.
C: Sold! I don't care how much it is; I'll take it.
B: (with a flourish) J'reviens! (leaves through the door, returns a moment later, empty-handed) I'm afraid we're out.
C: Oh, for crying out loud! (throws up hands and leaves.)