Packing, Pall Malls and Prosciutto

I know all three of you reading this think I am a horrible person. Neglecting you such as I have. It's been at least three maybe four years since my last post. Or three months. Who is counting?

I have excuses though!

Valid reasons as to why I have not sat down and waxed poetic of my food adventures, love affairs and madcappery. Just give me a second to think of the most sincere sounding one.

Okay I apologize. I have just been plain uninspired.

And multiple big things have been happening.

First and maybe most important (because it's all about me) I am leaving the great state of Minnesota. I will give you time to compose yourself. I know it's a shock to everyone's system.

But yes. I am moving.

I am giving up on snow and heading to the now even greater state (because I'm moving there) of North Carolina. My roll at the underwear megalith that employes me has changed. I will now be in the glamorous world of sock design. And before you ask in that almost condescending way "is there a lot that goes into designing a sock?" Remember I may feed you at some point. And I watch a lot if CSI Miami and Murder She Wrote. Hiding a body is not a challenge to me.

Back to me.

My Minnesota visa expires later this month and I will then be reporting from tobacco country. Please stay tuned for my shenanigans involving fried chicken, Pall Mall's and republicans.

Now on to the food portion of my food blog.

A while back SAGL and I made a house decision to go all Oprah and live life to the fullest. Which really means we made plans to visit our dear friend and confidant Ms. Antipasto for a fete to end all fetes in Plymouth Massachusetts at the start of December. This party is co hosted by an Italian immigrant and her husband who I'm certain was one of the Car Talk guys. This party is so exclusive it involves eVites (we really need to bring that back).

So in preparation for this extravaganza I basically planned on eating nothing but salads and laxatives for weeks. Luckily the salads were more satisfying and I stuck to that daily menu.

Back to the party.

The scene was set in what can only be described as a glamorous set of a Murder She Wrote serial killer made for TV mini series. This village within a village has everything you need to never expose yourself to outsiders. Beautifully nestled in the Cape adjacent woodland we settled in for a weekend of massive caloric intake and old fashioned Christmas hi-jinks (drinking egg nog with biscotti liquor).

While there I found my soul mate in a 60 something Italian mother of two who may or may not be a hobbit. Her stealth like jabs at her daughter and coma inducing lasagna are legendary throughout New England. Don't cross this woman or JB Fletcher will be banking off your demise.

All in all best damn holiday party I have ever been too. And I hope to hell Ms. Antipasto eVites me back (as I check my inbox daily for the golden ticket).

Now I am sure you are wondering "what the hell happened to your New Year's resolution to try a new restaurant a month?".

Unbunch your panties. I've kept up on it. Mostly.

SAGL and I took advantage of our time in the greater Boston area and forced friends old and new to gather in our glory while traveling.

First in an intimate grouping we lunched at Russell House Tavern. This subterranean delight was fine by me because I was able to catch up on my hometown's Motorcross that somehow made it on the bar tv. I was only slightly distracted from my cheese platter of love by the classy chick who thought it was sexy to share her bra straps with the whole of Christendom (and this Jew). But lets get real. Cute atmosphere, cheese platters and wine. I'm sold.

About two hour later we needed to feed again. Recall the month of salads?

Our dinner was provided to us by the cheerful staff at Catalyst. Lets start by talking about reservations. We made one. When we arrived they asked if we had one. When we sat down I was glad to see we had our choice of almost any table in the restaurant. Beggars can't be choosers.

The menu was simple and tasteful but our little group of six was left too long to ponder. And with that, minds changed about a 1000 times. I naturally settled on a burger. My staple on which I judge all chefs.

Personally the jury is still out on Catalyst. I need to go back. And we all know that it will be closed or re-imagined by the time I get out there.

In a nutshell that is why I've been absent online.

With only a few days left in Minneapolis now is your chance to say goodbye to me, confess your love to me, or tell me F-off. I'm really counting on the Meg Ryan confess you love me scenario playing out.

I'll check in once I settle in North Carolina.