Safar Coiffure

I feel human again.  I finally got my nails done today at Safar Coiffure, a very pretty spa/salon in South Pointe.  Of course I used a Groupon, but normal prices there aren't TOO outrageous-$50 for a mani/pedi.  My awesome little place is only around $25 for the same but it's impossible for me to get there most days...I could walk to Safar during my lunch hour.
I had a talkative Ukranian woman do my nails who kept up a running commentary about anything should could think of (Shaquille O'Neal is nice, Janice Dickinson is not) but somehow she wasn't annoying-she was childlike in a charming sort of way.  Foreigners can get away with so much.  She did an adequate job on my nails but not amazing-she did little for cuticles and calluses, which is what I really care about.  My theory (and I have a theory about everything) is that places that are strictly nails only do a better job because the owners make sure that the services are standardized among their staff.  Hair salons and spas seem to just hire any licensed person to do nails and then not really worry about what the technician actually DOES.  She wasn't awful, I just wasn't impressed.  There's another place that's close by that's nails only with similiar pricing-even though it's not anywhere as pretty as Safar (in fact, it's downright grubby)- and they do a much better job.
But, I'm just happy to have a pedicure again.  I hate open toes shoes with unpainted nails, and since I have a foot fetish to support, I got to step up my game.  I actually remember that the last time I did my nails was December 30th, when I normally can't remember my address properly.  Gotta represent, ya know?

King Kone Hand Rolls

This is blog number 69.  Snigger.

My diet has been crap lately.  I haven't felt like grocery shopping, much less like cooking, and honestly, nothing has really seemed appetizing anyway.  Times like this I wish we had dog food for humans.  Just a nutritionally complete people-kibble that would taste reasonably good and I could live on it alone.  Eating can be such a chore.  I wish I was an air plant.  Or a robot.  I wish I could teleport nutrition into my belly, bypassing my mouth altogether.

As a special little treat for myself, I went to King Kone Hand Rolls for lunch today.  Mind you, this is a special little treat I planned out last week.  Making sure I have three meals a day arranged is one of my tasks.  I can't simply open up the fridge and snack on something; this requires careful planning and utilization of my meager resources.  I mean, I have to put something in my stomach regularly or it starts to, like, hurt.  And stuff.

I had a Groupon for this place so I ordered quite a bit of food, too much food, actually.  I had to throw some of it away, something I wouldn't normally do but sushi doesn't keep.  I had a ceviche hand roll, a dragon one, some seaweed salad, and something called sunomono which is cucumber salad with kimchee sauce, or so I was told.  Everything was pretty much fine.  Not thrilling, but fine.  Well-priced.  I really don't like the seaweed hand rolls come wrapped in so I ate the filling with a fork.  It was basically a mound of rice with chopped veggies, fish, sauce and toppings...pretty good but not exquisite.  And only superlative awesomeness is tempting my fickle palate lately.  I mean, the paper thin slices of white tuna, garnished with scallions, dipped in ponzu sauce, that I had at Mr. Yum recently was exquisite.  "Pretty good" is just puppy chow.  Must.  Regain.  Food.  Mojo.

Sublime

Went to Sublime for an unfashionably early dinner with GS yesterday.  I had pregamed at his house with wine because I'd had a crappy day, one of those days where it seems every asshole in SoFla crosses your path, so by the time we got there I was smiling.  Yes, you can tell I'm tipsy when I smile.

The place is huge and my first thought was, can this place possibly be in the black?  I know it was 6:30pm on a Wednesday but still, I can't imagine that it was fiscally worthwhile opening at all that day.  It's very pretty and elegant in a cold way, or pretentious as GS opined, but the menu is pretty down to earth.  It's vegetarian and touted as natural and organic and all those foodie catch words.  Everything on the menu appeared recognizable and edible but maybe a bit too safe and boring?  The menu also seemed extremely limited for a restaurant of that size; it was more of a bistro type menu where you'd assume they'd  change out dishes regularly.  I imagine Sublime doesn't do that.

The wait staff was extremely attentive and deferential which is, I suppose, better than rude and standoffish but it didn't ring quite true.  I guess I was throw off by the prison tattoos on my server's neck.  I imagine the reason, at least partly so, for the great service was the presence of the owner haunting the restaurant.  She insisted on speaking to everyone at their tables, which I guess was a nice touch if I didn't freaking hate that kind of shit.  At least I was tipsy enough to not be completely cold and uncomfortable.  She opened up the conversation by welcoming me back.  Umm...I've never been there.  She then asked GS if he had been in recently...umm...negatory.  Seriously, lady, you don't recognize us.  You don't know us.  IT'S OKAY.  Luckily she finally went away.

We both ordered pizzas: GS got a carmelized onion with mushroom and I got a "cheddar", BBQ sauce and onion one.  Yes, I understand I just complained about how dull the menu choices were, and then I went ahead and ordered the safest choice.  Sue me.  My pizza was much better than GS's, which was bland and not nice on the tummy.  I guess vegan food doesn't go down well.  The vegan coconut cake was really good, and I took all the leftovers home because, with the two pizzas, cake, and a couple drinks, the bill came to $56 before tip.  GS paid the remainder after my Groupon took care of $50 off the bill, and left the tip.  He said that he was glad the bill was so low because he would have felt really gypped paying full price for the meal...I did remind me that I paid $25 for that $50 Groupon, so the bill was actually around $31 before tip...reasonable but not a huge bargain.  I guess the meal was worth that much but not more.  I'm glad I went there because I had been wanting to for close to a year, but I'm also very glad that I/we didn't pay full price.

Biutiful

Go see it.  Today.  Now.

Be prepared to cry: not that silent, dignified weeping, but outright sniffly bawling.  There was not a dry eye in the theater.  Yes, the men too.  It's one of the best movies I've ever seen.  It's definitely the most sad.  Amazing.  And, beautiful.

Russian & Turkish Baths

I roused myself from the pit of despair I was mired in last Sunday to post a feeble cry for help on Facebook, "anyone want to go with me to the Russian and Turkish Baths on the beach?"  I knew that several of my Groupon groupie friends had purchased the Groupon for the baths when it came out a few months ago so I was hoping someone would agree to meet me, thus forcing me to get out of the apartment when all I wanted to do was lay down and moan feebly.
I met Krei at the baths at noon and we spent a couple hours there, alternately baking, steaming, freezing, and boiling ourselves.  Since we're silly, we ran around playing with everything that wasn't tied down.  We blasted each other with fire hoses.  We jumped up and down under the rain showers.  We found the leaves they use for platza and started beating each other experimentally with them when a stern, tattooed young guy in a Speedo came up to us and, disapprovingly, mutely held out his hand for us to return the leaves to him.  Thus chastized by this guy who was obviously a Russian mobster who has killed people we stopped poking around and went back to the aromatherapy room.
One cool way to seem like a bad ass is to get nice and toasty in one of the hot rooms and then jump into the ice cold water pool and pour buckets of ice water over your head.  After the intial shock it actually feels great.
I knew I would feel like a wrung out, wet mop by the end of it all and need a long nap, and I was right.  I went home and straight to bed but first, just to ensure that I passed out, I made myself a vodka and tonic.  Ok, ok, so Grey Goose is French, not Russian, but at least I was in the spirit of things.

*As I read this over I notice an excessive use of metaphor and pun that I'd like to apologize for now.

Spizzigo and El Novillo

Playing catch up today at work.  Not on work related tasks, God forbid!  But on my blog.  You can't force these things, you know.

My son, mom and I have been having dinner with the changing cast my uncle drums up for our bi-weekly get togethers for months now, and it's been pretty good - as long as we've stuck to Tutto Pizza.  Our last two get togethers were at Spizzigo and El Novillo respectively and I found our meals there both lame and sad.

Spizzigo is located in a strip mall in Doral (please understand, I dislike Doral and everything in it in an intense and irrational way) which is already a point against the restaurant.  The place is cute, if perhaps a bit cookie cutter and sterile in design.  And freaking cold!  What's with running the A/C at meat locker temperatures?  Eh.  What can I say?  The meal was a disaster from the start.  I'm sure the waiter absolutely hated us.

It seemed that my whole family was in cahoots to be as critical as possible.  We are usually nice!  Really!  I swear!  But...they forgot to get me a wine glass, forgot to bring a place setting for my cousin's wife, they were out of almost every wine my uncle tried to order but two, half the entrees we ordered were cold...the waiters were pretty damn cute, I admit, but sullen and almost rude.  I watched three charming, adorable and admittedly annoying-as-hell little kids try to get a taste of the gelato and the counter guy blew them off completely.  I don't think our waiter even attempted to look pleasant.

My uncle ordered insalata de pere, gorgonzola e noci for everyone as a starter.  The creamy dressing was way too sweet and had no balance and the pears were not ripe.  The bread they brought us was terrible, how do you call the dough part?  The masa?  Not the crust but the...well, you get it, it was all doughy, undercooked, and the crust was dusty with flour and some pathetic herbs...no crunch at all.  It has the texture and edibility of Play Doh.  I ordered spaghetti salmone e limone and the sauce was greasy as hell and with no hint of *limone*.  My mom had some mushroom/spinach tortellini that was so salty.  Absurdly so.  It's like they knew she had high blood pressure and were trying to bring about a speedy demise.  My son's pizza was pretty much ok, and we were all happy to *help* him finish it.  Altogether merda, from start to end.  Maybe gelato would have redeemed it but I think not.  At least we had alchol.  We'll always have alchol.

We had dinner at El Novillo on our previous familial outing.  I've eaten there several times, usually for work, and have found it to be a nice, inoffensive, harmless kind of place where everyone's palate can get along.  BO-RING!  I had skirt steak and it was a bit undercooked, more rare than medium rare, but a little bloody meat never bothered me.  The side dishes are so dull!  They ladle out of a trough some mushy red beans and rice that are just bland, and some maduros that are sliced too thick...honestly, there are few things that annoy me more in life than thickly sliced maduros...the oil doesn't get to the middle and so you don't have the proper ratio of sweet, carmelized outsides to sweet, softened, cooked insides.  It's just dry and raw in the middle.  Caca!  Well, to be fair it was fine.  Honestly. It's like eating at your grandma's house, but not the good cook, the other one.  It's hard to ruin this type of food but it's easy to find it prepared with indifference.  I'm too picky about Hispanic food to deal with these generic, substandard meals.  You got to put some love into it, damn it!  And, of course, pour the wine liberally.  I've firmly established myself as the family alchy, and I'm ok with that.

Tamiami Truckers Food Court

The whole food truck business seems to inspire a great deal of feeling in people, from great apathy to great antipathy to great, um...sympathy?  Just trying to keep the trend going, there.  I've had my eye on the burgeoning food truck bizniz here in Miami (damn you, Ms. Cheezious, you stole our idea!) and I've generally thought, it's a good thing.  What's not to love about cheap, tasty, sometimes interesting food coming right to you?  It seems Miami borrows nothing cool from other, hipper cities and frankly, it bums me out.  Miami is sooo provincial.

Well, I was texting about my evening plans to check out the Tamiami Truckers Food Court to this friend of mine, and I didn't really expect him to have such, ahem, strong feelings about the food truck craze.  But here, I'll let him say it in his own words, "One thing is enjoying a bite at a place and appreciating it for what it is.  But this is another matter altogether.  It borders on the obscene at this point...I have had it with this food truck business.  It is so shallow.  You won't order a grilled cheese sandwich from Denny's, but all of sudden some Argentine c*** brings you one in a truck and it's the culinary equivalent of the Venus de Milo?  F*** that.  It's the excitement in people's eyes that most gets to me...There are perfectly decent restaurants going out of business, closer to home.  I'm not excited about standing in line with 200+ assholes who think this "street meat" parade is worth the sojourn inot the hills for a "really good sandwich".  All those FB updates, these twatters...I just can't take it."

I must say, full disclosure, this is one of my very best friends and I retaliated by posting many Facebook and twatter updates about the whole event, just to bug him.  I'm so mature.

I do see his point(s).  It was far as hell for me.  You get there and there is a sense of expectancy that never gets fulfilled...like another friend of mine said that night (be careful what you say, I will quote you), "It's like the Youth Fair without any rides".

Exactly.  I ate a lot, and enjoyed some things quite a bit...especially the carnita I had from Jefe's.  The fish taco from there seemed a little bland but P did steal my hot sauce.  Oh!  And Wendy's Crab Salad and Cheddar sandwich from Ms. Cheezious was really good, especially when she added the perennial pickles to it...I know she'll be making those at home very soon.  I thought the lettuce wraps from Miso Hungry was only ok, the pork inside was very dry.  The only sign of freshness in the wrap was the cilantro.  We had crepes at the French place that were pretty great, too.

All in all, I had a really nice time but to be honest, it was mostly the company and, well, the beer helps, of course.  I would have had an equally nice time at Wendy's apartment with the same people.  Now that I've done it once I don't know that I need to do it again, especially to the meet-ups that are so FAR.  Some of the meet-ups are much closer and I'm not averse to trying them out...I spent like $15 for quite a lot of food.  It is nice, however, to have a destination on a weekend night, it keeps me from feeling like I'm melting into a sloth-like complacency where I never  go out anymore.  I will just put forth one request: Port-a-Potties?  Please?