Oh, you said "Tapas" joint... yeah, ok, that sounds fun

Get it? Yeah? No? Maybe?

I was reading a "lifestyle" magazine last night whilst on the throne, let's call it fancy food and stuff, they are all the same these days. I found myself fed up w/ the format. These rags used to be about journalists travelling to cool places and trying new foods and wines... now it is all one big vanity project for asshole punks who inherited a bunch of money and don't know what to do with it. So you have a bunch of kind of fat dudes w/ giant beards or waxed mustaches wearing goofy outfits who somehow have smoking hot girlfriends in long flowing dresses. They don't have jobs but do have unbelievable apartments in NYC and summer houses in upstate NY where they pickle nettles. Why do I still read these things? I am a shithead clearly. With that said... I give you my new web magazine, Umlaut, by pretentious people, for pretentious people!

-9/24/15 Exclusive Town on the Hudson. I park my Porsche 365 in the imported Barbados sand driveway and hop on the Ugandan pony up the final 500 yards to the house. I am as struck by the 25,450SF Victorian as I am by the sloping thirty thousand acres leading to the 1 mile of frontage on the river. The property is dapple with afternoon sunbeams and dotted with a maze of fruit trees and wildflowers meticulously maintained by a team of 32 (not upstate new york born) farmers! Out front on the stoop I see my friends Tanner in his custom seersucker suit cut just right at 5 inches too short at the sleeve and leg! He whittles wood next to part time model Uni, Leisure consultant Prairie Moon, and her partner mailbox designer, Zander twirling his waxed 'stache. Our hosts are Dean and Carrie Underfall the IIX. Obviously, they are inside putting the final touches on the lamb that has been braising the last 4 weeks. Dan is a dog catcher and Carrie spends time designing hand made shoelaces for sandals. The kids dance around the Maypole deftly weaving between the dogs and the potbelly pigs never once getting a stain on their Summer Whites!

After a few rounds of Barbu (look it up) and some lawn chess we settle in around the kitchen to taste appetizers of pickled nettles on hand roasted peach slices and whipped butter. The salty sweetness pairs well with the Malvasia Istriana wine and the hand picked cashews toasted w/ Scandinavian sea salt and Japanese white pepper.

Dinner is out on the grounds overseeing the sun approaching the mountains in the west. The Underfalls decide on Galapagos turtles rather than traditional table and chairs giving guests an ever-changing view of the fig trees as they eat the braised lamb surrounded by truffled lobster potatoes in gold leaf and individually shucked snow peas in a light olive oil and child tears dressing. The turtle table attached to their shells helps hold plates ok but makes for a bit of a challenge managing the hand cut crystal glasses full of Assyrtiko from the Greek island of Santorini.

We finish standing on one leg with a rye whiskey locally sourced and distilled on site in the bespoke distillery in the barn while making out own rear view mirror coozie party favors. It has been a grand afternoon on the river... now where is my pony?!

                                                                                                           -Pistachio Gregory

Gettin' weird in Great Barrington

So we took the kids down to my in-laws in the Berkshires for our annual Labor Day extravaganza. Between golf, boating, and kid meltdowns we usually slip out just my lady and I for a night out w/ friends in Great Barrington. We decided on dinner Sunday night at a place we have generally liked, The Prairie Whale. Well, this must have been one of their busiest nights of the year. The place was packed and we felt lucky to get on the list (no resi's for party less than 6) for a scant 45 minute wait. It was hot, real hot. Nearly 90 degrees outside w/ 80+% humidity and no AC inside, everybody was sweating a bit. A lovely couple was finishing up dinner and gave us their 2 seats at the bar while they waited (forever) for their leftovers. So we began our cocktail vigil. After a while a bartender (there were 3) came over and gave us a cocktail menu. I could only see bourbon up on the bar so I asked if they had rye. The hipster clownf*cker behind the bar gave me so much attitude it hurt. Apparently they did. So we ordered our drinks and my buddy and I bellied up to the bar while the ladies cruised outside where it was a little cooler. We drank our solid Manhattans at a leisurely pace and then waited to reload, and waited, and waited, and waited... We got to the point that our conversation broke down as we tried to make eye contact with anyone behind the bar. Mustache guy was still angry I asked if they had rye so no luck there. D-Bag Jones in the sweatsuit only beer-d the cool group of well dressed gay guys and an older group of regulars. The woman behind the bar seemed to just be doing laps to stay in shape. Finally we got Stache back in the mix. DG asked what they had on tap. "Uh, we have Six Point Resin a double IPA, Big Elm IPA, Thunderstruck IPA, a bunch of IPAs, blah blah blah." He was so mad at the amount of IPAs. He also didn't apparently care that we could not see the beer board and were actually interested in what some of those IPA's might have been? We ordered the Resin. I do not care for Stache guy.

Hey, we waited so long for that drink our table was ready! So we sat down and decided to order a bunch of small plates to share. My lady got bad news first, they were out of Rose (rose-ae). They were out of a few dishes and had a few substitutions. No more arugula, only mustard greens. Summer was indeed over I guess. Ok, let's start w/ a dozen oysters and then we ordered some other stuff. They only had 4 oysters. No problem, one each. They only had 3. They found another one and now had 4. Wait... you found a fourth? Found it where exactly? The food itself was good, not great. The cheeseburger was ok. The tagliatelle was pretty good. The one oyster was fine. The one real hit was the fried eggplant w/ burrata... that was delicious. I asked what the beers were again and opted for something a bit lighter, Six Point Sweet Action, a 5% pale ale. Nope, they hit me w/ another double IPA Resin in a pint glass. F* you Jay, you will drink what we tell you!!! Our server at one point also came to us and said she had been cut loose and someone else would be helping us the rest of the way. Cut loose for the night, forever? This was becoming a disturbing trend. We passed on the deserts they probably did not have.

Overall it was a fun night and a fun story but kind of a disappointing meal.

Our final stop was for a nightcap at Allium. This could be its own crazy post but let me just mention we had a conversation w/ "black Shaune" (his words) who came over to explain why he was fighting w/ his 70 year old "uncle" who was a pedophile he had know forever mostly from a youth group and they were just messing around. "Uncle" had stormed out of the bar after telling Shaune to "Get your hands off me!" drawing a rebuke from the bartender who struggled to contain the situation. It was a scene, although I learned that I was not funny and could not tell jokes. Well, Shaune was not wrong. Shortly thereafter he was asked to leave (headed down the street to "the Well"). On our way out I saw Stache heading out for his nightcap. I fought back the urge to kick him in the knee and we called it a night.

Lot of action packed into a quiet Sunday night in an upscale NYC summer escape. Glad we were in the middle of it.