THAT TIME I THREW UP FOR 12 HOURS IN VEGAS, FOR ALL THE WRONG REASONS
This post is about what I didn’t eat in Vegas last March. I’ll be honest: the food I had there was un-delicious. And I became horribly sick one night after meeting with a piece of “supreme” pizza. To wit: I heaved and ho’d until I was depleted of vitals. We’re talking ILLNESS. And lots of it. Spewing from me. BUT I’M NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT IT. Above: My mom and sister ride an outdoor escalator. It’s early morning, and Vegas is sleeping, except for the people who are not sleeping and probably never will, not until they hit the pool at 11 a.m. and purchase a 4-foot-tall tropical rum-spiked beverage, the kind that comes in a plastic tube.
Above: My father’s below.
Above: The rest of my father.
Above: Here we see something just heartbreaking. Vegas is known for its homeless children who have Pre-gambler’s gambling addiction. It’s quite sad: they come out of the womb with a thirst for craps. They usually don’t become full-blown crappers until they turn legal, 21 here, and until then they wander the streets lying, looking sweet, telling people they’re “midwestern.” It’s estimated that Vegas has over 40,000 vagrant pre-gambling-addicted children. It’s not hard to snap a photo of one. Or two.
Above: Bloated has-been sighting.
Above: Though Vegas is more known for hookers-n’-blow than stunning modern architecture, this structure proves that Sin City is looking to get EXPENSIVE by adding straight lines and trippy skyscrapers that lean like Pisa, or a homey.
STIR FRY FROM THE PAST
A long time ago, perhaps in pre-Obama America, I had friends over for stir fry. Weird things happened. Because we drank a lot. But that’s not my point; I don’t have a point.
Here was the final product. I remember it being a 4.5 out of 10 on the scale of amazing tasty things. Which is weird, because with all the stir fry gunk I keep around my house, there’s nary a fry where I feel as though the final product is under-developed, flavor-wise. BUT WHO CARES?! We had Stoli, and Jordan pouring Stoli, and posing with it.
Steph was there! Becky was there! Was anyone else there?
Dead chickens were present, until we consumed their dead asses. Maybe not really their asses though. But maybe. (Does a chicken have an ass? Is a chicken really just one big breast? Questions only a farmer might be able to answer.)
Steph looks classy. Becky looks focused.
Becky brought candy, OBVS. She looks possessed. I believe that more drinking happened after this? Maybe I shouldn’t have waited 8 months to post these photos.
THE CURRY DIVA
On Saturday I interviewed The Curry Diva. I wrote a post about the events she has coming up for the City Pages Hot Dish blog. Also, I’m currently having pineapple curry leftovers from Saturday. CURRY FTW!!! Also, blackberry brandy FTW!!!
EATING WITH MYSELF
I had a little carbo-load. I needed to prepare for an evening of couch sitting (my favorite kind of sitting).
Shlo goes psycho over tortellini! Not really. But he does go psycho over lettuce and kale. And chicken bones. And probably human bones too if he had the chance.
Ummm ingredients, DUR! I like things that are LEMONY.
Ummmm here we have some once-frozen artichokes and some fresh onions in a bath of bubbling EVOO that looks like a slick of urine.
IN THE END, there was feta. There is always feta in the end.
FEASTING AT PRIYA’S HOUSE
On Saturday we were lucky enough to feast at Priya’s house. Her mom and dad made an amazing meal for us. Priya bought the bread. Above, I contemplate how to look good while stuffing my fat faaaace.
Here’s my first plate after I was half done with it. I had three plates. I could explain what everything is, but I don’t want to. Everything was vegetarian though. I’ll let you know that much.
We had potato naan and an onion naan. I think. I can’t remember. I was too busy focusing on that there masala.
Here’s Priya’s mom’s spice thingy. I’m going to get one, and then I’m going to become the best white Indian food chef ever. Tough competition.
I can name approximately two of these. Wait. Maybe four.
Annnnnnd here’s out hostess with the mostest (hair).
I LIKE MEATBALLS
I especially like meatballs if they’re served with garlic bread. My mom made this for me. I had it for lunch. #ADULTHOOD
Yeah, needs more CHEESE. Then it would be my favorite. But it’s hard to dislike bread and homemade red sauce and homemade MEATBALLS. What’s that? YES, I said MEATBALLS! GOAL: get creative with meatballs. I’m trying to think of some unique meat combos aside from traditional balls o’ meat. HRMRMMM.
LOOK AT ALL OF THAT SQUID. SHINY.
On Sunday night, we had the best/worst calamari fry ever. Above, our token fish-less vegetarian pretends to enjoy the creatures that come from the sea.
Well, really it was book club. But Jordan decided to be gracious and hospitable and super bourgeois and make calamari. Above, the egg that went into the Sriracha aioli I made. I SHOULD HAVE READ INSTRUCTIONS before making it.
I had to use the food processor on the floor because the chord was too short to reach anywhere. There was no cat hair in the aioli, as far as I could tell. And if there was, APOLOGIES, BOOK CLUBBERS!
We had the calamari two ways: beer-battered, in honor of the state fair, and a more traditional bread crumb. I’m a beer-batter fan myself. Above, fresh calamari, blurry and sideways.
Less exciting and containing no tentacles, the lemony hummus was a crowd pleaser.
Deliciously shiny!
Look at that pleased crowd! Undoubtedly, it was all of the fish and artificially-colored malt beverages/energy drinks that delivered this joy.
Above, the morning after. Go book club! I can’t remember what we read.
NEWS YOU CAN’T BOOZE, UNFORTUNATELY
My first City Pages blog post went up today. PRETTY EXCITING, or something. Just kidding, Internet Reader Who Understands Written Sarcasm. I’m excited to be putting my best foot-in-mouth forward for CP whenever I can. Going forward, I’m aiming for one post a week. Doable.
TOMORROW, ON IQTE: photos from book club! We prepared calamari, talked about the book for 15 minutes (maybe), and finished all of my hard liquor.
AND NOW, SOMETHING YOU CAN REALLY LOOK FORWARD TO: I’m making a feast on Saturday for friends who responded to my Facebook status query: “Who wants me to make you dinner? You bring the liquor.” I’m excited. It’s gonna be fish-centric.
YOU CAN’T MAKE GROUND BEEF SEXY
I’ve tried to make ground beef appealing, but, it’s impossible, probably because it’s just ground up animal. YEAH. So let’s focus on how pretty this salsa is. It went on top of my Epic Ultimate Nachos.
It’s tomato-less, and limey.
And there you have it: Ultimate Nachos. I ate a third of that pan, and then I didn’t do anything for two days except talk about how epic my nachos were. When my mom asked me, “what did you do on Sunday?” I just said, “Nachos.” Nuff said.
ALSO, I’ve finally got my act together enough to have my first CP post up on Monday. I hope to do one a week until my life settles down a bit, and then hopefully I’ll begin posting more. BUT WE’LL SEE. I’ve been busy, doing a lot of drinking and things. And nachos.
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