Let’s talk, RogueRanters, and let us not dilly-dally down some dark, treachorous path full of explanations.
I want need a dining partner.
Do you know what I mean? Does anyone else feel my pain?
Sometimes, when I’m out to dinner with friends or on a date, enjoying my meal, I think, God, this would be great to do with someone who really appreciates food.
And sometimes, when I’ve cooked or eaten something really fabulous, I think, Man, I really want to share this with someone who loves food.
Now, I hate to use the word “foodie” to describe myself, because truthfully, my palate is not evolved or discerning enough to warrant such a label, but I do have a rather healthy appreciation for what goes into my food and those who create it. I like my cheeses and certain cuts of meat and want to dine with someone who knows that there are multiple varieties of tomatoes, not just one- and that they’re not always red. (Don’t laugh, because I know people like this.)
Am I making any sense?
What I’m saying is I want to dine with someone who isn’t going to sit across from me and shovel their food into their mouth, but instead will take the time to savor it. (-Unless it’s really that good, then by all means, shovel LOL.) I want to dine with someone who doesn’t subscribe to the “I only really eat Italian or American food” mantra that is so popular in this country. Not that I don’t love me some Italian or American food (whatever that is, right? You have no idea how often I hear this), but I want to dine with someone who’s palate is a little more, oh, I don’t know, adventurous; someone who isn’t going to be absolutely repulsed if I happen to order something that has the tongue of a pig in it. If I order grilled oktopadi at Taverna Kyclades, I don’t want someone to remark how gross it is that it looks like cut up and slightly charred octopus . . . IT IS CUT UP AND SLIGHTLY CHARRED OCTOPUS YOU DAMN FOOL!
Do y’all hear what I’m saying?
So back to business. I need a dining partner.
Again, you ask, why isn’t anyone I know good enough? It’s not that they’re not good enough, because if they’re good enough to hear from me on a regular basis, chances are they’re good enough for me to eat with (and always remember, RogueRanters, just ’cause they’re good enough to eat with does NOT mean they’re good enough to sleep with); I’m just looking for something different from my meal, from this dining relationship. While I think some of the best meals you’ll have are more to do with the companionship than the quality, it’d be nice to appreciate whatever meal we have without knowing anything and everything else there is to know about the person, to not have the weight and dynamics of our relationship (platonic or otherwise) weighing down on the meal.
I want to sit and hear about someone’s day/week/month that I’m not already emotionally invested in it like I am with others. I want to have fun conversation and hear about whatever they want to talk about while enjoying a solid, well-prepared meal and having a well-made cocktail. I want it to be a non-taxing meal where I’m not forced to assuage someone’s ego or wondering if they’re going to try to sleep with me at the end of it.
I want to dine, with someone I don’t already know, who thinks about how brilliant, but kind of eck! sounding, sous vide is when places like Peter Luger are firing up their grill at 800 degrees Fahrenheit for the perfect steak.
I’m sure you’re all thinking, What the Hell prompted all of this?
The other evening I was out to Bare Burger in Astoria with my brother Keeg and one of our other roommates, and we just mowed right through our food. Like, hands down, it was the quickest meal I’ve ever eaten, and while it was delcious and suprisingly clean and light tasting for a lamb burger (that’s what I ordered- and the tzatziki-like yogurt sauce was the perfect light touch), I just kept thinking, did these guys get it? I ate fast, because they were eating fast, and at the end of it all, I was wondering, Did we really even get to enjoy it? I know the other roommate didn’t; all he could talk about was how his ass was too big to fit in the chair. Keeg almost ordered the Cranberry Walnut Blue Cheese Salad without the bleu cheese! BLASPHEMY! But he liked his meal in the end with the bleu cheese. As for the other guy, the only kind of cheeses I’ve ever seen him agree to eat are mild cheddar and American (if that can even be counted). Nice guy as he is, I suspect that he is blissfully unaware that it’s not cheddar that is on his pizza. Har Har Har.
FYI RogueRanters, it is highly unattractive to insult yourself constantly under the thinly veiled guise of self-deprecating humor and then wait awkwardly for someone around you to jump in and pay you a compliment. I’m not the type of person you fish for reassurance or compliments from. Once, twice? Okay, I’ll throw a dog a bone, especially if you’re having a rough day, but all the time? Gimme a break.
Example: “My ass is too big for these chairs. (Laughs) I’ve gained quite a bit of weight though.”
(Long silence from Keeg and I who know that this guy subsists off of bologna sandwiches and potato chips when not eating pizza and fried chicken. ELEPHANT IN THE FREAKING ROOM.)
“Well don’t everyone rush in to reassure me that my ass isn’t fat.
(Crickets chirping)
Then, Keeg decided to turn it into a joke, like haha you want me to tell you your ass isn’t fat?
(More awkwardness.)
But it is, and you’re ruining my meal, because now, instead of appreciating what I’m eating, I’m thinking about your fat ass stuck in a chair.
So, you see, RogueRanters, I don’t want to have dinner with people I know all the time. I don’t want this to be a dinner date, per se, more like a dinner affair. All hedonism, no pragmatism. Instead of sex, it will be delicious food and drink for gluttons. Instead of expectations from one another, like Could this be serious or Am I going to get some tonight?, we just enjoy the finer, less-awkward parts, like an appetizer, a cocktail or two, an entree, whatever, and then go home on our merry separate ways.
Then, two weeks later, we do it all again.
Genius? Yes, I think so.
So here’s my list of what I’m looking for in a dining mate, because listing is all the rage these days:
-Gender doesn’t matter
-Don’t have to be a beer or wine snob, but if you are, that’s cool, I like learning new stuff.
-Someone who doesn’t release bodily fluids/gasses at the table would be nice, i.e. spunk, gas, urine, tears, etc.
-It would also be nice if you didn’t do drugs at the table, but I’m willing to be lenient: if we’re in a back booth or private area and you feel you absolutely must snort/shoot up/pop pills, I can reconcile myself to that. Beggars can’t be choosers, right? Just, if the cops are involved, I didn’t know about it, mmmkay?
-It’d also be nice if you weren’t one of those people who gets really drunk at every meal and throws up on a nightly basis. Or, if you are, wait until I’ve headed home to chuck everything up?
-Someone who doesn’t think good food has to be absurdly expensive, and is willing to try out dive-y places on occasion.
-Preferably you’d be the friendly type, but if all you do is growl and snarl, at least it won’t be you talking about how your arse doesn’t fit in the chair; you don’t have to be super sociable or whatever.
-It’d be nice if you didn’t hate live music, because sometimes I like a little jazz with my meal. (Or other forms of music.)
-Strip clubs can only be recommended if the food is legitimate. (A friend of mine raved about this steak place once. He just forgot to mention it was a topless steakhouse, but the steak was pretty damn good.)
-Please be old enough to drink legally, because I really don’t want to have to suffer through the embarrassment of you getting carded or having your fake I.D. taken away.
-Please have a relatively open mind about other food cultures. As in, if I suggest a Lebanese restaurant to eat at, please don’t have a stunned look on your face like I just suggested you join me in some freaky-deaky sex act.
-Chronically late people (as in, over an hour late all the time, for everything) need not apply. At that rate, I’d rather just dine by myself.
-Pay your own way.
-A sense of humor is always nice, but not necessary.
And that is all, RogueRanters, that I am looking for in a dining partner. If you know someone who fulfills all (or at least some) of these requirements, email me or DM me on Twitter, and by golly, let’s give it a go next month.
Cheers! It’s Monday.
