From Famine to Feast Conclusion 3-30-12

Admittedly, the house salad, when the correct version finally came, was very good. Was it "wait for 35 minutes to get the order right" good? Not exactly. Just as the last cherry tomato disappeared off my plate, some kind of manager-guy approached with our sandwiches. We stared in disbelief. My "fish sandwich" was a GIANT piece of Tilapia or gouper or something equally succulent and tender. It had the slightest murmer of a perfectly seasoned reddish orange breading surrounding the entire, double the-size-of-your-hand piece. It dwarfed the sliced, crusty Cuban bread that attempted to surround the fish only to end up perfectly complimenting it. Susan's chicken sandwich was quite good as well, she claimed. Was my sandwich worth waiting 40 minutes for? As far-fetched as it sounds...perhaps it was. The tip was back up to 15% by now and climbing. A quick, unrequested refill on my diet coke sent it to 18%. As I ate, the bartender/slash barmaid arrived at work. She was at least 5'7" with long curly brunette hair and she wore spray-painted-on leather pants that did not come close to covering her hips. She had a shiny satin tube top on that "pushed things up" dramatically. She looked like a fourth year college student, which as it turned out is exactly what she was. Like a scene from Little Havana, a gaggle of old Cuban men gradually drifted in from out of nowhere and seated themselves at the bar, ordering drinks and flirting. A few glanced sideways at Susan, who usually prevails in any impromptu cleavage contests and did this day, but a second glance in my direction convinced them to re-focus their attentions on the bartender. Susan claims that men are much friendlier to her when I am sitting at home, and it was interesting to witness them trying mightily to ignore her as I paid for lunch. We intend to try Prana again next month.

From Famine to Feast Cont...3-28-12

After we were seated, the service went downhill. I ordered a diet coke and Susan asked for water. The owner became a little distracted. A grubby guy at the register was asking to see him. The grubby guy represented a band and wanted to talk to the owner about hiring the band to play at Prana on weekends. Grubby produced a CD and recited several styles of music that the band could perform. The owner asked him to wait while he went into the kitchen. Just six minutes later, he came back with our drinks. Yes, people, I time wait staff, particularly if they are off to a slow start...their tip depends heavily on the accumulated minutes. Grubby continued his attempts to sell his band the owner. I found myself hoping that Grubby sang better than he talked. Personally, I thought the guy should have brought a laptop with him, flipped it open, and showed the owner a video of his band playing in a similar environment...but what do I know about marketing or blogging or even Search Engine Optimization anyway? I just lift weights...and wash my clothes on a regular basis, unlike Grubby. The owner told Grubby to cool his heels while he continued to wait on the only other occupied table and kibbitz with the people at it. After 10 long minutes, he came to take our order. I asked him what sandwiches were good, and he assured me that the fish sandwich was a top choice. I ordered it along with the house salad, enticed by the promise of avocodos, cherry tomatoes and several types of lettuce with a Guatemalen dressng. Susan ordered the chicken sandwich and the $6 bean soup. Just 10 minutes later the teeniest, tiniest cup came out, along with a plate of lettuce and onions. Our waiter was off and running back to the other table before I could say "Where are my avocados?" I flagged him down after his 2nd trip to the kitchen. He apologized, grabbed the plate, and disappeared into the kitchen yet again. Just nine minutes later, he reappeared with the correct salad, blaming himself instead of the chef. It was far too late by then to ask for a couple of oyster crackers for the bean soup. His tip was well into the negative zone by this time, but we had already commited too much time to go elsewhere. To be cont....

From Famine to Feast 3-22-12

We are always looking for new, interesting restaurants to try. We read about one in the Herald Tribune. The name of it is Prana. It has been open since Monday and it is located in the same building as a former nightclub called Krome. Two things about the article caught my eye. The first is that it has a Cuban theme to the menu, and we can only go to Columbia or Cha Cha Coconuts so many times...not to mention they are a nightmare to get to for lunch during Snowbird Season. The second is that the owners are a father/son team, and the son was a former sniper in the Afghanistan war! Prana was right next to a pawn shop on 301, just south of 12th street and I admit the area wasn't the toniest we have ever been to. Sue assured me that she was packin' heat though, and we had another destination in the area after lunch so we figured to kill two birds with one stone. The parking lot is rather hard to find and is in back and shared by the pawn shop. We walked through the small back door...and were immediately impressed by the black and white and chrome and glitz decor. The joint was clean...no, scatch that...it was immaculate! Dad seated us.  To be continued....

Poor Wet Thing 3-14-12

This time of year, Siesta Key Beach can be very busy. Unless one arrives before 10 am, it can be difficult to find a parking spot. On a cautionary note, just because the Parking Lot Full sign is out does not mean that a spot cannot be found. One has to be patient, hang back a little, and try to determine which beachgoers heading out to the lot are actually leaving for the day. During season, however, Susan and I avoid the area entirely between peak hours. Instead, we frequent Turtle Beach at least once a week. Admittedly the sand is hotter, but the trek from the parking lot is less arduous. If we take my little car instead of one of the Corvettes, we can jump the curb near the boat ramp and park in the tiniest of spots on the grass. Not too long ago, I was lying on Turtle Beach, minding my own business, with my camera and telephoto lens nearby. A young lady was taking pictures of some dolphins while standing in the water, and a rogue wave managed to soak her white suit bottom! Needless to say, I felt just terrible for her. The bottom became very clingy, and I thought it best to photograph the situation so that Susan would know what materials to avoid next time she purchased a new suit for herself. I did not want to be obvious or cause the young lady embarassment when I took the photo, so I did the right thing. I asked Susan to pose behind the young lady, and then I took the photo over Susan's shoulder. See below.
.

I felt a great deal of compassion
for this young lady after she got
soaked. She was at great risk for
getting too chilly and I was on the
verge of offering to dry her off with my
towel, but Sue said something about pigs
flying and I thought better of it.

More dating news 3-11-12

Many regular readers will recall the post of 2-7-12 in which I speculated as to whether my co-worker would continue to see a young man that one of our members set her up with. We shall call the young man Kyle. To say the least, it has been a rocky road. The first meeting did not come off as planned. My co-worker cancelled at the last minute by text. A second meeting happened. My co-worker claimed there were no sparks. Apparently one of the two felt sparks, however. When my co-worker did not respond to Kyle's repeated texts suggesting another rendevous, Kyle took action. He traveled to her other job, and "hung out" there for TWO HOURS. He tipped her generously as well. My co-worker claimed (quite lamely, I thought) that Kyle was "cramping her style" during his prolonged visit. I suspect otherwise. Stay tuned.

Can't Win 'Em All 3-6-12

Even a regular reader with the shortest of memorys will recall that we arranged a meeting with Sue's Michigan friend  L and a tall, single client. We met at Casey Key Fish House at 4:30 on Saturday. It is with some sadness that I must report the encounter went quasi-smoothly, and certainly without the initial fireworks that I observed when they first met at the gym. The waiter was shy and hard to find. He also had amnesia and forgot one item after another. L had a great deal of trouble getting a second cup of wine, and for a minute it looked as though I would be eating my seafood pasta with my fingers. In addition, I can now officially report that the portions and quality during season are considerably smaller and poorer than during...oh...say...July. The dinner ended when L took her last swallow of wine and we tipped Molasses, our waiter, a hefty, well deserved 12 per cent. Sasha stayed home, chilling on one of her favorite sofas.

If we can't get Sasha to
settle down soon, we are
going to ask the Vet for a
prescription for Xanax.

We did it again 3-2-12

Some of you may have heard about Sue's friend coming in for a visit. "L" lives in Michigan, but she got cold and informed Sue that she would be down here by Thursday. L is a tall, outspoken brunette with large white teeth and a raspy voice that she assures us is NOT from smoking. She claims that she had the same voice as a teenager. Yeah, right. This morning, L was sitting at the front desk, waiting to go to St. Armands Circle with Sue. A tall, eligible client noticed L immediately. He vaulted two workout benches in order to introduce himself. L seemed to be hanging on every word the client had to say. The four of us are meeting at Casey Key Fish House at 4:30 tomorrow. Will L be staying at our house for the remainder of her visit, or somewhere else? Will L be using the second half of her roundtrip ticket when it's time to head back to Michigan....or not?!?! Stay tuned.