Brian’s old roommate, Dave, stayed at our house over the weekend. He moved away about a year and a half ago, and I was happy to have him around. He and Brian worked at the pizza cave together for a long time and shared a house in Berclair for two years, and these times bore much fodder for reminiscing. Since I was at that house all the time — so much that Dave once told me he considered me the fourth roommate — I got to laugh at all the You remember that one times. It was fun in that So good to have the old gang back together way.
But I had to quickly become reacquainted with Dave’s habits, namely his chain-smoking and constant coffee-drinking. He’s at at least a pack and two pots a day — at least. The ritual begins the moment he wakes up. Yes, he inhales nicotine with his first daily breath.
So, of course, our refusal to allow smoking in the house and our lack of a coffeemaker proved immediately problematic for Dave.
To clarify – we do have coffee-making apparatus. We have a French press (takes too long), an espresso machine (too confusing), and a Senseo (which I use sometimes … on the weekend). Dave lasted one javaless day before a coffeemaker appeared in our house, as a host gift. Because obviously we were suffering, deprived. How would this house ever become a home without the scent of freshly-brewed coffee to open our eyes?
The truth is, we didn’t have a coffeemaker because we didn’t need one. Brian works right down the street — and though I’ve never understood why anyone would order coffee at a pizza place, they do have it. At my office, I have access to all the Starbucks House Blend I can pour down my gullet. And if I can’t make it that far I’m happy to support my local cleverly-named independent purveyor of coffee. And anyway, save for a few decoratively arranged condiments and ingredients, I like to keep our countertops clear.
But, well, now we have a coffeemaker. And a tub of Maxwell House Awesometime Morning Blend or whatever it’s called.
Things have already begun to change.
Yesterday morning, as I do every day, I pleaded for Brian to get up for work. He mumbled something about needing some coffee. Instantly I felt as if we were standing at the top of a rabbit hole of caffeine dependency. WELL YOU SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT OF THAT BEFORE YOU WENT TO BED! I barked, as I dabbed my neck with perfume.
Then, today, I came home after a pleasant session with Sophie’s Choice on the elliptical and thought Hell, I’ll make some coffee while I’m in the shower. See what the fuss is about. So I followed the instructions in the manual, pressed power, and trotted off to the bathroom.
When I returned, in my robe and towel turban, sans glasses, I discovered that I’d made a huge mistake. There was grainy coffee all over the counter and dripping down the wall. I opened the lid and saw what looked like an over-watered bucket of potting soil in the filter.
I hadn’t put the lid on the carafe. I thought it was optional. I thought wrong. Then I made my second mistake: putting the lid on after the brewing had begun. Coffee began gushing everywhere.
Fuck coffee, I said as I yanked the lid off the carafe and threw it in the sink.
Stupid ass god damn idiot machine, I muttered, squinting as I mopped the counter and dabbed the wall with paper towels.
Generous portions of baked and fried catfish, vinegar slaw, green beans, hush puppies and onion rings from Holy Rosary’s fish fry.
Lately I’ve noticed a few search hits to my 2009 compilation of Lenten fish fries, so I thought I’d post an updated version for this year. My last two trips to church were for a wedding and a funeral, so I’m not exactly your model congregant. But as I said last time, Lenten fish fries are welcome to anyone. They don’t check for a Certificate of Catholicism at the door and the money goes to charitable causes, so why not? The fish is usually pretty good, too.
So, without further ado:
Holy Rosary, Park Ave. just west of the Mt. Moriah intersection in East Memphis
Every Friday during Lent, 6-8 p.m. in the school cafeteria
$8/adult $6/child $25/family; fried and baked catfish available.
This is the one I usually go to because a) it’s closest to my house and b) they have really cheap canned beer. Get there early because there is always a line. Also, parking kinda sucks.
Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception, Central at Belvedere in Midtown Every Friday during Lent following the Stations of the Cross, which is at 5:30. There are 14 stations so I’d say get there at about 6:30. Presented by the Knights of Columbus. Their Web site and bulletin don’t provide more detail than that, so if you know more, please post in comments.
Church of the Incarnation, Collierville, on Bray Station north of Poplar Every Friday except Good Friday, 5-7 p.m.
All-you-can-eat soup, salad, baked potato bar; fried, batter-fried and baked fish, hushpuppies, vegetables, mac & cheese, desserts and drinks
$8/adult $4/child $30 max per family.
Proceeds benefit Youth Ministry Pilgrimages and other community causes; sponsored by the KofC
I’ve never been to this one but I have to say it sounds pretty appetizing. They always do it up fancy out there in the ‘burbs.
Our Lady of Perpetual Help, Germantown, Poplar at Kimbrough
Feb 19 and 26, Mar. 12 and 19, starting at 5 p.m. in St. Therese Hall (or as they called it in my day, the “Great Hall”)
All-you-can eat catfish for $9.50 or all-you-can-eat pizza for $4.50
Presented by the Men’s Club and benefitting the “youth of our parish”
Even though it’s kinda steep – I think it’s because they cater their food – I got love for OLPH’s Fish Fry. My dad was in the Men’s Club and they are some rad folks.
Church of the Resurrection, Hickory Hill
I’ve never been here so here’s a map. These folks are mixing it up with a ravioli dinner. Not sure if it’s a weekly thing, but there is one tonight (2/19) at 7:30. St. Paul’s in Whitehaven is also getting creative with a soup supper following their 6 p.m. stations, but their bulletin doesn’t give many details.
St. Ann Bartlett, Stage Road in Bartlett
This appears to be weekly. $7 for adults and $3 for children 12 and under. Dinner starts at 6:00pm and ends at 7:00pm in the cafeteria. I attended Mass a few times here when I was living at the Arbors and it’s a pretty nice church. I can’t speak for the cafeteria though.
St. Francis of Assissi, Corner of Chimneyrock and Germantown Rd. in Cordova 5:00-6:45 p.m. in the Family Life Center, sponsored by the KofC; I assume weekly
$7/adult $3/child $25 max per family.
St. Louis Church, White Station at Shady Grove in East Memphis
5-8 p.m. in the school cafeteria, Feb. 19 and 26 and March 19. Sponsored by the Men’s Club
Parking is pretty tough at this one too.
St. Patrick’s, Fourth and Pontotoc right by the FedExForum downtown
Every Friday during Lent from 5-7:30 p.m.
$7 with vegetarian options available. It looks like they show a film too, from 6:45 -8:15. That’s not enough time to screen the Passion of the Christ, which is encouraging.
St. William’s, 4932 Easley Avenue in Millington According to their Facebook page, every Friday of Lent from 5:30-7:30 p.m. in the Family Life Center. Sponsored by the KofC.
Again, if you have more details on any of these or on one held by the many parishes with dismal web presences, please leave any relevant info in the comments.
I don’t usually use this space to promote my other projects, because frankly, I don’t often have other projects going on. But a couple of months ago I started a Tumblr called LUNCHBRAG dedicated to memorable lunches. For example:
Gus’s fried chicken. It’s the only thing that’s kept you from the brink of despair at work. So brag about it.
I get plenty of awesome submissions but would like to branch out of Memphis (and, love you guys, my circle of friends) a little more, for the sake of variety. So help me spread the word. If you want to submit your incredible noms, you can e-mail pics to lunchbrag at gmail or use this handy submission form. Be sure to include a description of what it is and where it came from.
Apparently there is some disagreement – sparked by an article in the San Francisco Chronicle – regarding whether it’s OK to order a plain ole’ pedestrian cocktail like a Jack and Coke at a tony cocktail bar.
The dustup comes down to this: many customers wouldn’t even dream of walking into a white-tablecloth restaurant and ordering something safe and pedestrian off-menu—such as a hot dog or cheeseburger—but the same customers might venture into a bar with a creative cocktail menu and order a Jack and Coke.
They ask, “How far should bartenders go to give a customer exactly what they want? What kind of protocol, if any, should customers follow when visiting a bar with an ambitious selection of drinks?”
Maybe this is a big-city thing I don’t understand because Memphis doesn’t have any speakeasies… that I know of. But I don’t see why, if a bartender has a full gamut of liquors at reach, he or she should be so put off by someone not wanting a rose-petal martini or cucumber spritzer.
First of all, it’s not fair to compare ordering food off-menu to ordering drinks off-menu. Ordering a McDonald’s cheeseburger at a fine-dining restaurant just isn’t analogous to ordering a simple cocktail at a bar, no matter what the drink list looks like. Walk into any kitchen in any fine-dining restaurant in the country and you’ll find only the ingredients for what’s on the menu. Sure there are constant basics like olive oil and flour, but restaurants have perishables and product cost to consider. You can’t keep hamburger meat on hand “just in case” because it spoils. And spoiled product = money lost. Behind the bar, however, are dozens of bottles of liquor with extensive shelf-lives.
So, as a bartender, why wouldn’t you want to accomodate your customers, if you don’t have to go out of your way to do so? Aren’t you trying to get them to give you money?
Consider this scenario: Suppose I’ve got a girls’ night planned. My girlfriends want to go to a mojito bar, despite my objections. I’ve muddled enough mint that I’d be happy if I never saw another mojito. But, y’know, my girlfriends are busy, we never get to hang out, so I’ll go.
So when my turn to order comes, I say, “Hey, I don’t really like mojitos and I’m mostly here for the company – can I have a rum and Sprite?”
If as a bartender, you tell me “No, sorry, we only serve designer mojitos here,” you will get $0 from me. Unless I order a bottled water or throw you a couple dollars out of guilt for not ordering a drink.
If you tell me, “Sure, I don’t see why not, hell we’ve got rum and we’ve got Sprite. And frankly, mojitos are a pain in the ass to make anyway,” you’ll get a hell of a lot more than $0. And I’ll probably even over-tip you because you indulged me and didn’t make me sit at the bar and watch my girlfriends get tanked on minty sugar water. And your sales will go up because I may not be drinking a mojito, but at least it’s booze. And your boss will be pleased, because your sales are the only thing he cares about at the end of the night.
That’s not to say “the customer is always right,” though. The customer is wrong, a lot. This just isn’t one of those times.
Me: I’ll have an iced, triple-grande, soy vanilla latté. (looking at menu) Ooh, and an English muffin with egg and cheddar.
Barista: I’m sorry, we don’t serve the English muffins yet. Would you like a blueberry muffin or a scone?
Me: Oh, I’m not really hungry… it just looked good.
So, today is Mardi Gras, which means tomorrow is Ash Wednesday. Which, in my family, means it’s catfish time. If, like me, you live in the Memphis area and are a catfishionado, you’ll be pleased to know that you can find a fish fry at just about any Catholic church in the city every Friday until Good Friday.
And they don’t check for a “Catholic ID” at the door so anybody is welcome. If you’re in East Memphis, St. Louis Church at Shady Grove and White Station only has three fish fries and parking there is kind of a pain. Holy Rosary has them every Friday and they have a family rate– $25 for a family of four or more. I ate there last Lent and the food was good, and you could get a can of beer for like a dollar. But the line stretched all the way around the cafeteria, which smelled like your average school cafeteria (disgusting).
Further east, OLPH in Germantown, which is where my family were parishioners, has held weekly fish fries for years. When I was in high school, this was the place to be first because my dad worked them (which meant free sodas) and also because the grilled fish was, as I say, noms. However, they have since begun outsourcing their catfish to Corky’s. On the bright side, their catfish is all-you-can-eat.
Go here to find the church in your neighborhood and see what they’ve got cooking.
That’s right. Two weeks without a peep out of me on this blog and all I have to offer you is catfish. Yet you keep coming back. MUAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!
This tweet got me to thinking about how ridiculous it is that Tennessee is among a dwindling number of states that forbid the sale of wine in grocery stores.
The reason I was so excited about the Whole Foods renovation (beside the greater variety and the fact that their house brands are more affordable) is that I like to get all my provisions in one place. Before, I was having to divide my shopping between Wild Oats, Schnucks and The Fresh Market and the fact that all three stores are within a block of each other didn’t make things much easier.
And after rushing out of the grocery so our perishables don’t … um … perish, the last thing I’m thinking about is stopping by the liquor store for a bottle of vino. Even though Wine Market is en route, we’re usually reeling from the amount we’ve spent and none-too-inclined to drop twenty bucks more.
Why not take a step out of the process?
As someone who doesn’t start to feel buyer’s remorse until actually leaving the store, when it’s too late to say “Um, maybe I don’t need that after all – will you void it?” I feel like I’d be far more likely to splurge on a bottle of wine if I could put it in the cart with the rest of my groceries. Plus, recipes that call for wine are better with drinking wine instead of cooking wine (that’s a little pro-tip I gleamed from some fancy chef I know). One-stop shopping would mean saving money on fuel; and I can’t speak for everyone, but I’d probably go to bars less often (safer roads!). The state might get an economic boost from the additional sales tax we’d be paying (especially since grocery stores stay open longer) and since Gov. Bredesen warns that the state may be facing an $800 million dollar budget shortfall, that probably is a very good thing.
I did a little Googling and was reminded that I am not the only Tennesseean who feels this way. The CA a few months back reported on this very issue in March, and there is an organization called Red White and Food that is pushing for food stores to be allowed to sell wine. According to their blog, a state senate subcommittee will be having a hearing Monday to discuss wine legislation, including wine in retail food stores wherever “package sales” are allowed at the retailer’s discretion. I strongly recommend taking a look at Red White and Food’s blog because it contains a lot of valuable info.
I’m not getting too excited because, let’s face it, this is Tennessee. Remember the hubbub surrounding the lottery? This state is populated by quite a few self-righteous evangelical types bent on legislating morality, regardless of what grape beverage Christ made from water. Surely they’ll argue that easier access to wine will lead to widespread underage drinking, although I bet you’d be hard-pressed to find a teenager with a taste for tinto. Plain and simple, kids steal booze from their parents (Except for me, because neither my parents nor my friends’ ever had any booze).
I’m eager to see how this turns out. If you live in the Volunteer State and want to contact your legislators in support of this legislation, here is a link to do so. It’s about time Tennessee got with the program.
I’ve made no secret of my love for Whole Foods. In fact, just a few months ago, I made an impassioned plea for the company to get the ball rolling on renovating my local Wild Oats store.
I’m happy to report that my prayers have been answered.
For weeks now, going grocery shopping has been like going to a surprise party. As I walk past the wind chimes and plants, and through the glass doors, I wonder what awesome new products and services await me. Tuesday when I saw several new varieties of ravioli in the freezer case I was like a kid at Toys R’ Us (honey, if you were wondering why there’s so much ravioli in our freezer – it’s because I won the pasta lottery).
In the checkout line I always end up discussing with the cashier the cool stuff we find on the new hot food bar. “Oh, are those the mock chicken nuggets? Have you tried the Thai peanut tofu?” “Why no, but the pineapple jerk tofu is awesome.”
So, I guess the transformation finally is almost complete because the store will be closing a couple hours Tuesday and all day on Wednesday in preparation for its GRAND RE-OPENING CELEBRATION. If you’re in the Memphis area I recommend coming and checking out what they’ve done with the place. There are going to be giveaways and demos and assorted other kinds of fun, too.
I’m typing this post with one hand – the other is soaking in a bowl of orange juice.
Why? Because I’ve proven, once again, that I have no common sense in the kitchen.
In an effort to persuade myself that it really is autumn – football isn’t proof enough when it’s 80+ degrees outside – I made vegetarian chili. The recipe calls for two fresh, de-seeded, finely minced jalapenos.
So, I de-seeded and minced. Then I chopped a zucchini and some tomatoes, and drained the beans… are you noticing a missed step in this process?
This genius did not wash her hands after getting up close and personal with some friggin’ hot peppers.
I am in some hellacious pain. It feels like I have a sunburn on my fingers (even underneath the nails), but aloe vera didn’t help. So I consulted the Internet for a homeopathic remedy, as those homeopaths have all the answers. Now my hand is in a bowl of juice, and I gotta say it feels pretty damn good there.
