As
it should be abundantly clear, we don't really care to socialize with
other people, particularly people we don't know. After all, half the
time, we barely care to socialize with each other.
"Do You Want to Go to Dinner Tomorrow?" "Eh, How About Next Week?" |
If one were to look
up the definition of "introvert" in the dictionary, pictures of us would
appear alongside the term, and they would feature us lounging on our
respective couches.
So Really, All Restaurants Should Thank Us for Deigning to Grace Them with Our Presence |
It is for this reason that getting us to attend any sort of
happy hour event is a rather fruitless effort. However, when we
received an alert that a college alumni happy hour would be taking place
in town, we perked up at the news only when we read the line concerning
"free vodka." It seems that in an attempt to get people to arrive
early (always our strong suit), the organizers of said happy hour were
offering free vodka drinks from 6:00-7:00pm. So naturally, we showed up at the stroke of
6:00pm, and we ran out of there as fast as our booze-washed knees could
carry us at the stroke of 7:00.
Bring on the Giant Rib |
You see, although Michael Symon had recommended the jumbo beef
rib at Daisy May's BBQ years ago, we had never mustered up the energy
to go there. Because Daisy May's BBQ is SO FAR WEST that it might as
well be floating in the middle of the Hudson River. And to make matters
worse, not only does it take the concept of "west side" to a new level,
but the restaurant is also on 46th Street, which is essentially in the
middle of a whole lot of nothing. How this place has stayed open is
beyond us.
Well, "Staying Open" May Soon Be a Thing of the Past at This Rate |
Anyway, when we stumble through the door of Daisy May's, it
becomes clear that we're not the only one who thinks the place's
location is terrible, as the dining room is completely empty. We settle
down in a back corner, because we are drawn to corners like hermits to a
cave, and get down to ordering. No sooner have we taken our seats than
Vodka hears the following exchange go down between Ginger and the
waitress:
Namely That By Tomorrow Morning, We May Not Be Alive |
In possibly
the only good decision we make of the night, Vodka immediately asks for
water, and when she downs her cup in a single gulp, the waitress finally
seems to understand who she's dealing with, and she sets down a full
pitcher. Which we drink, to the last bitter drop.
Unfortunately, we also drink the entire bottle of wine.
You Win Some, You Lose Some |
In
order to help soak up the free (read: cheap) vodka and BBQ joint (read:
cheap) wine, we request the beef rib from the BAR-B-QUE episode of Best
Thing I Ever Ate, along with mac and cheese, baked beans with burnt
ends, and corn bread as our sides.
Literally (literally) three minutes
later, our tray of food appears before us, which we dive into almost as
quickly as we drink our wine.
Taking the Concept of Fast Food to Another Level |
The beef rib itself is massive -- one and a half pounds of
thick meat adhered to a dinosaur-like bone. We begin tearing into it
like the cavewomen we are, and with the first bite, Vodka predictably
proclaims, "Salt. It needs salt."
Dear Restaurants, Generally, Everything Needs Salt -- Please Oblige Us Accordingly |
Now, the rib is good. It tastes
particularly good to Ginger, as she has eaten nothing but vegetarian
dishes for the past two weeks ("Why are you trying to become
vegetarian?" "I'm not -- it's just what I made for lunch.")
And for the OPPOSITE of Vegetarian, We Present.... |
We find
picking the thing up and biting into it makes it somehow more appetizing
than approaching it gingerly, and the slightly crunchy texture on top
leaves the rest of the meat rather succulent underneath. However, as
far as flavor, it doesn't taste like all that much sauce has been
applied, though naturally, the whole experience improves when Vodka
douses it with multiple packages of salt.
Our Natural Palate is Sodium-Based |
Unfortunately for the rib, we find the side dishes much more
pleasing. The beans with burnt ends are downright delicious, as is the
macaroni and cheese. And frankly, we would prefer a pound and a half of
them over the meat.
Beans, Beans, and Nothing But Beans |
Could We Have Another Three Bowls, Please? |
Good to the Last Drop |
The corn bread is also quite tasty, and massive in
portion (Ginger, who only allows herself to eat unsalted butter at home
(the horror) finds the accompanying pad of butter especially
glorious).
Everything's Better with Butter |
And our preference for the side dishes seems to make clear
why we can both go weeks without eating meat, but deny us a carb for
more than six hours, and we could cut someone.
We Didn't Quite Lick Our Plates When It Came to This Meaty Monstrosity |
So would we make another trek all the way to 46th and 11th to
sample Daisy May's delicacies again? "If forced to go to another alumni
happy hour, I guess I'd come back," Ginger correctly sums up the
experience.
Vodka and Ginger Get Your Gun |
But in the meantime, we'll be steering clear of both free vodka and all further attempts to get us to leave our apartments.
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