One of my best friends, James, is not only a fellow foodie but also a very well-known restaurateur here in Manhattan. We've been friends since the 7th grade and there's a good chance that our friendship was forged in the cafeteria discussing the culinary origins of that day's mystery meat.
Anyway, to celebrate the Chinese New Year, James and I decided to organize a special banquet for 15-20 of our closest friends at Ping's Seafood in Chinatown. Ping's is one of the most authentic Cantonese restaurants that you will ever find in the U.S. However, some of the dishes take over 3 days to prepare so we wanted to set a date about 10 days from now. We figured this would be enough time for people to coordinate work schedules and babysitters.
Now, don't get me wrong. I love my friends dearly. However, trying to coordinate dinner plans with just ONE of them can be difficult. Making plans with twenty of them is practically an exercise in futility and, logistically speaking, always makes me want to slam my head against a wall.
To make matters worse, we all tend to share a very sarcastic New York sense of humor. This morning, I sent out a quick e-mail to everyone advising them of the plans.
Within 15 minutes, the following e-mail exchange took place:
MD: "Jimmy G and I are planning a Chinese New Year banquet. We want to go to Ping's Seafood for an authentic banquet dinner. Some of the dishes (like the 8 pound lobster, the winter melon soup, and the HK abalone) take over 3 days to prepare and you won't find them anywhere else in NYC. Who's with us?"
Tulse Luper: "Put me down for two bowls of finch eye stew and a dozen eel flapjacks! And did Senor Ping mention whether they're still serving the pan-seared aardvark? Also, The Doctor is requesting no-carb HK abalone."
James: "Just make sure Senor Ping is the one cooking on Saturday (by the way, Senor Ping is the chef, not the name of your johnson!)"
Meg: "An 8-lb. lobster would have survived on this earth for at least 35 years, but possibly as many as 75 years. He or she could take up to 15 minutes to die in boiling water!"
The DR: "I hear with a lot of melted butter, mayo and an adept use of tongs, it's not a bad way to go."
BossLady: "Damn it! Somebody help me! I can't stop rolling me eyes!"
Milty: "Some say that you can 'hypnotize' a lobster by rubbing the top of its head or its abdomen, thereby pacifying it before boiling. Then, you press the point of the knife into the head and bring the blade right down between the eyes. This kills the lobster as quickly and painlessly as possible."
MD: "I saw a bumper sticker that said, 'I love all of God's creatures...right on my plate next to the mashed potatoes.'"
Tulse Luper: "I have an 8lb lobster now and no matter how long I boil it..it just won't die."
The DR: "Take it out of your jacuzzi and put it in a pot, bitch."
This banter ended up continuing throughout the day. Meanwhile, 6 hours and 20 e-mails later, not a single person has even replied whether they're coming to dinner! I swear, sometimes I'm amazed that they let all of us become parents. Shaping young minds, indeed!
In other MetroDad news...
(1) Today, The Doctor and I were talking about Britney Spears. I told him that she shaved her head because she didn't want to get drug tested. The Doctor retorted, "No way, man. I was interviewed on "Inside Edition" last night and explained why that theory was wrong. If they wanted to drug test her, they could have just taken a court-mandated blood or urine sample." Turns out that the DR examined high-definition close-ups of Britney's head and speculated that she's having medical problems with her scalp. All the stress and drug use may have been causing her hair to fall out in clumps so she abruptly shaved it off.
See, that's what I fucking love about The Doctor. The dude doesn't know squat about football but he can discuss Britney Spears' head for hours.
(2) Last night, I cooked up some mac-and-cheese for the Peanut. When I asked her whether she liked it, she nodded enthusiastically and said, "High five, daddy!" After we high-fived, she put her hand behind her back and, with a mouth full of food, said, "heemeeonhefwepsy." I had no idea what the hell she was saying but she kept muttering the same thing over and over again. "Heemeeonhefwepsy! Heemeeonhefwepsy!"
Finally, after she swallowed her macaroni, she wiped her face, turned her back to me, stuck out her hand, and clearly enunciated, "I. Said. Hit. Me. On. The. Flip. Side!"
Man, I laughed so hard I almost peed my pants. I swear...some days, kids are better than TV.
(3) Only 24 hours left until the MetroDad blog name contest is over! We've got a few more surprise prizes to give away so go over there and put your entries in the comments section. Hurry1