In the June issue of Men’s Health magazine, Anthony Bourdain lists the “13 Places to Eat Before You Die” (which I discovered via Russ & Daughter’s great blog). Of course, the moment I saw the post, I tweeted it to the world, just like any diligent food blogger would. When I pressed send to share the list with the world, I did not think said list would cause such a flurry of comments between myself and a certain new friend of mine.
This new friend of mine, who happens to be the husband of a former colleague (We miss you, Chloe), loves food almost as much as I do. (ALMOST. “He’ll love that,” I snicked with sarcasm.) Anyway, the flurry of comments involved me being sad as I’ve only enjoyed 3 of the 13 spots Bourdain recommends and this friend (let’s call him, Dennis, because THAT’s his name!) proceeded to not only gloat about the location of his apartment (like around the block from St. John, the #1 restaurant on Bourdain’s list) but also showed off about having eaten there, recently, frequently.
Sure, I was a bit jealous. I mean, I was in that very neighborhood last year but opted to dine at Smith’s of Smithfield instead. Smith’s was lovely, but I do put a lot of faith in Bourdain’s suggestions and, damn, I wish I’d just hit St. John. Regardless, I was pleased for my new friend Dennis. I mean snidely pleased. You know, the kind of pleased where you sort of wanna kill him.
To top it all off, Mr. Dennis did the sweetest thing ever. Last night, he was out with his wife and some friends, and decided to dine at St. John. He could have simply enjoyed his good fortune of living within proximity of such a fabulous, well-revered restaurant. Instead, he took photos of the experience and demanded they be emailed to me. With the business card in the photo. That’s so sweet, no? Um, yeah. Um, no.
In all seriousness, it was quite a treat to be remembered last night while they enjoyed this gorgeous Welsh Rarebit. Thanks to Chloe for actually taking a photo of the food. I bet it was Dennis who slipped in that St. John business card. Loved that little dig. Sort of. And, all that, after introducing Dennis to some of the best tapas in Boston at Toro. Not only did I introduce him to Toro but his wife and I also stuck to all the veggie-ish dishes during that dinner so he could enjoy all of the yummy pork-studded plates. So soon he forgets that kind act…
Oh well, now that I’ve documented the whole ordeal. I’m almost over it. Almost. We’ll just see if he’s on my next invite to my annual Porkapalooza event. You know, the huge party where I slow-smoke an entire pig in my back yard and let all indulge in said pig’s smokey, tender goodness. With beer. We’ll just see.