Thursday, May 12, 2011


I'm assuming a bunch of area food blogs have already done this, but I was off gallivanting around France with my girlfriend, which I bet those guys weren't doing, so there. I don't read anyone else's, so I have no idea. I do go back and read my old posts once in a while and laugh my ass off. I sure am funny, in my humble opinion.

Well, I have exciting stuff to share, dear readers., not to be confused with that lowly, which I hear gives your computer a nasty virus if you click on it (hee hee, kidding, lawyers!), wants me to come up with an awesome contest to win a free $25 gift certificate. I have 4 of them, so I guess that means we can have 4 winners.

(The local Miami site is here)

So, let's see. How about you write a haiku and if it's not terrible, I'll give you one. And if you're a female reader, including a photo would probably not be the worst idea in the world, you know, to give you that little push over the top into contest windom. If you don't know what a haiku is, don't even look it up. You already lost.


Saturday, May 7, 2011

Eat It, Miami Went to France

This is called a Cezanne salad. He painted a lot in Aix-en-Provence, a city in the south of France we recently visited to attend the christening of my dear friend's son. As you can see, the grateful people of Aix honored their favorite son by naming their most delicious and ridiculous salad after him. It has quiche in it. Quiche. In the salad. Along with cured ham, goat cheese, parmesan, eggplant caviar, olive tapenade, and other standard stuff like tomatoes.

I made the mistake of ordering this as a starter, which is called an entree in France. And the waitress didn't even have the courtesy to put her hands on her cheeks and say "mon dieu, oh la la! Vous avez un appetit tres grand, n'est-ce pas?" She took my order for a rib eye with roast potatoes and mushrooms as my main plate. See, they aren't complete grammatical morons over in France, so "entree" actually means appetizer, unlike here, where entree means "main dish," which is really stupid because you can probably sound out the word and figure out what it means.

So, though I'm complaining about the fact that they allowed me to order so much food, my superhuman appetite and metabolism easily consumed both, along with the remaining half of my girlfriend's dish. I probably burned most of the calories by worrying about how I was going to eat all of that. And by the time I had stood up from the table, I almost passed out and had to quickly get to a boulangerie for a pain au chocolat.

In closing, France is totally awesome and the food is delicious. You should go there some time. It's a lot more interesting than Vegas, a place where you'd spend the same amount of money to visit, though they don't speak English over there and that might cause you to use your brain. God forbid.

This post has taken an anti-American turn, and that's unfortunate. Because I absolutely adore this country, even though a lot of people here are pretty lazy and stupid. But that's everywhere. Anyway, I just wrote a beautiful poem for my mother for Mother's Day that involves a rhyme that's pretty patriotic. Oh, you'd like to read it? Well, ok. Here goes -

Bad news, these tulips didn't come in a vase
Good news, Osama was shot in the face
Morbid for Mom's Day a bit maybe. 
But think of it this way if it cheers you up please. 
Sharia Law prob'ly outlaws Cesareans, 
Say all us whose mom's now a sexagenarian. 
4 bundles of joy just a thought, they'd say.
If mean ol' Bin Laden had had it his way. 
We've come to a conclusion, you wanna know what?
__________ can kiss all our skinny white butts!

So, to all the mothers out there. Happy Mother's Day from Eat It, Miami. If you're a ______, please don't be so offended that you have to prove to me that _____ is the religion of peace by threatening to cut my head off. Thank you.

God bless you, dear readers.

And may God bless America.