MASTERPIECE DINNER THEATRE WITH RAYMI
welcome to romagna mia, boyfriends-in-training.
time to get my eat on with my humble sidekick britt on the scene. this evening we were jammed amongst an unsuspecting (well, some were in on it) dinner party. boy, is your hero ever an anomalie to other people or what?
we arrive late and as previously mentioned, one of us is dressed as a diner waitress. FT! here’s a tip, if you ever can’t settle on something fancy to wear, then dress the opposite of everyone else. go bjork. people will be so confused they won’t notice you’re not in your nines.
first up we have Strazopretti pasta on the right (the history of this pasta and how it was invented is the chefs hated their priest so much they made him big thick pieces of pasta in hopes of it choking him to death. punk rock!) with a wild boar meat sauce (delicious, melt in your mouth) and ricotta ravioli on the left. very good. i ate it all despite my no carbs no starch no pasta mental illness. put anything before me and i will eat it. i am a pig. seriously. i’ll even eat brains. WILL be very soon actually. ugh i just threw up in my brain. EW.
chew chew chew. i bought new lipgloss yesterday because it seems there’s been a recent disappearance of my lips.
doesn’t this make you want to hug your nana? alex the chef said those were spring vegetables and as an aside more so thinking aloud mentioned “even though spring is over…” don’t say stuff like that to bipolar rapid thinkers, sent me off in a pointless timewarp loop. if spring is over, how can i have spring vegetables. boggled.
check my dinner date. oh what a hilarious nite. the secret stories i’ll obscurely tell strung out over posts to come hahaha. i may or may not have gotten into a bit of a pissing contest with these chaps and when i wasn’t talking about myself for an hour straight i was making fun of them to their faces. they welcomed it.
forget what this is called. who cares put it in my mouth.
chef alex presents to me my very own tagliere (salumi platter). i took what i didn’t eat home with me.
pancetta, prosciutto, other salamis oh god and beneath a bowl of lettuce in burnt cheese. burnt crispy cheese that’s not blackened omfg you know how you fight over that piece with anyone. i got an entire bowl made of it.
and i didn’t even know it was hidden beneath til i began eating my way through the meat.
ok nooooow i look more like a waitress.
there’s my cheese friend.
risotto time. they flambé the interior of the cheese wheel to get it all melty hot then they pour the Risotto fagiano (golden spoon awarded risotto, seriously, you can make food that wins a golden spoon! i want one!) in pheasant truffle. no biggie.
you’ll see. Gabrielle Paganelli, personal risotto chef, owner. not bad, not bad at all.
who invented the flambe? greeks and their saganaki? jack astors and their fajitas? hahahhaahaha ahhh ha. sorry. wait i know you don’t flambe fajitas they just send it out on a hot plate and then everyone else wants to order them. so manipulative.
working the fire all around. i guess this is why they use electric candles (better for insurance alex says) to make up for the circus act.
dig the interaction. kinda like at morton’s how the guy comes to carve your steak for you. so showy and unnecessary. meanwhile nba basketball players were sitting all around us. that was with matt good a few years ago.
this is what i look like when i feel shy. i look like my mother. sometimes i get shy about the dumbest things. look, something is happening aggh blush blush blush. i, am adorable.
pouring it in. yummmmmmmmmm.
wow i seriously look odd man out here.
here too bahahaha. you have to sneak up on people with your personality. walk softly, carry a big stick. not this time though i pretty much exploded right on in as they were feeling jolly and ready to give’r. ooh yeah this is where i shine. they were super fun to sit with, challenging, and entertaining.
lasagna. absolutely rich and melt in your mouth ridiculous.
britt knew the name of that cheese blob. it’s onions and butter.
cute little fish and chips stand.
i love truffle anything. anything. eh-neh-thing. the fumes of truffle emanating off the risotto gave me an HJ under the table i am that into truffles. have you ever read a food review on dine.to or martiniboys about food giving them a handy before? christ you haven’t lived.
oh don’t you worry it’ll come. wink.
a mother’s dream.
oh my god i’m handing out a high five. stop me please.
i feel so exploited.
this photo kills me it is the WORST! everyone gets an F for photography, both skill and posing this nite. britt looks super pissed.
Quail with root vegetable in a quail broth. not gamey at all unlike a resto in the annex that serves up roadkill platter.
i look like i am cheating during a test.
this kid in grade 5 speed cheated off me so hard once he wrote my fucking name down in the name field. i snatched the paper and ratted on him cos he pissed me off all the time.
eat eat eat.
i don’t even think i get drunk at these things anymore as i’m balancing the wine with the food perfectly (and i’m also not there to get ploughed, high from food alone) and so a round of limoncello was due to crank this up a notch. one guy said no, i said why not, he said because we’re trying to be billionaires. ok ivory tower you will pass then. he slammed one down anyway but instantly became my enemy. i know men’s numbers all too well. i am en expert on yuppies, more so than blogging. i am attractd to them, it’s the 90’s in me i guess. also so completely my opposite it just works?
what is this a funeral? smile baby. another night highlight was (i guess we were hosed afterall) was fighting like sisters at the table that made everyone uncomfortable by. if only they knew what we were actually fighting about ha.
very smart i like these.
he has a gf. we have a collection of photos of me meeting people for the first time and that is exactly the facial expression on all their mugs. complete and total mush trance. toldja i was endearing.
and apparently i do parlour tricks too.
neo, there is no spoon.
still holding up but can’t wait to try my new shade. peach sorbet.
tiramisu made my knees buckle.
this nite was very inspiring in many ways. i’m going to start consulting more. people really don’t know jack shit about blogging or online dominance.
if i was with boyfriend and we were goofing around wasted i’d shove this in his face to get chocolate powder up his nose.
i love having my own photographer. makes life (blog) simpler. wow i just referred to life as blog. one time i called central the blog bar. haha.
i have a dream glasses.
despite the cut of the sleeves showing you otherwise, my arms are finally toning up again.
my throat is killing me i would love to be eating that homemade ice cream right now.
Semi Strega molten chocolate cake. i love molten cakes. was given a box of them once can’t remember from whom or what but spent a week eating them you just chucked one in the microwave and there’s lunch.
this one destroyed all those molten cakes by a landslide. no problem.
i like books and chocolate. i love animals and rainy afternoons by a window.
didn’t know another would be coming to the table. serve me first otherwise i’m eating everyone else’s food because the tick in my brain thinks there’s a famine on the way.
that red glob they sculpted into a strawberry was like thick daquiri sauce.
i want to shove a banana in that.
time to go go. all full and happy.
what a smart idea. i imagine they’ve been doing it ages but to me, brand new. good job guys. we landed on the moon!
behind the scenes. liking it. i’ll be in a kitchen very soon.
me and my take out.
i love me a grandiose affair.
perfect family setting if you ever have to host out of towners you tourist them all over the esplanade then bring ‘em here, say raymi sent ya.
reservations. Romagna Mia’s contact/address: 106 Front Street East Tel: 416.363.8370
and after eating all that pasta i wasn’t a cow afterall. yay.