We headed over to Mr. Cecil's on Ventura Boulevard. They make their ribs with a dry rub that tastes amazing. You can add sauce if you want, but I like it just the way it is.
We ordered a huge pile of ribs, as well as cole slaw and grilled corn. And we sat there, gnawing on bones and sucking our fingers and being generally repulsive until we were completely stuffed.
John went to the mens room, while I sat there in a meat and sugar daze. I was hoping he wouldn't be long, as the kids at the next table were jabbering about how great Get Smart was, and loudly re-enacting all the "funny" parts.
Suddenly, a thin, dark haired man with glasses lurched into the restaurant. He was very, very drunk. he was shortly followed by a blonde actress type and a short guy in a ball cap.
On the way to their table, he saw a man at the bar, who was writing on a script. He stumbled over to him.
"Hey, what are you working on?"
The man looked up at him, confused. They didn't know each other.
"Uh . . . a thing for ABC", he answered. "Cool," said the drunk, "come and sit with us."
At this point I realized the drunk was Andy Dick.
The waitress seated them all directly across from me. I had worked with Andy on What's My Line at the Acme Comedy Theatre a few years ago, but I knew he wouldn't remember me.
The waitress came to the table. Before she could open her mouth, Andy spoke up.
"I am very, very, very drunk," he said. "We're all going to Vegas after this, so I need food right now because I'm very, very drunk."
"Ok," said the waitress, "what would you like?"
"Do you have cole slaw? Because I'm very, very drunk and very hungry."
At this point, Andy and I made eye contact. I realized I hadn't touched my cole slaw, so I held it up to him. He immediately slid out of his seat and stumbled over to me. He took the cole slaw out of my hand and went back to his table, where he began to eat it with his fingers.
"Thank you", he said, around a mouthful of cabbage, "I'm very drunk."
"I know," I said.
The waitress started to take the order once again, but Andy interrupted.
"Do you have corn? I want corn. We're going to Vegas and I'm very drunk and I need corn."
I held out my uneaten corn to Andy, and he came over and grabbed it. He went back to his seat and started gnawing on it. He looked at me.
"Come over here," he said, and he pulled out a chair.
So I went over and sat down next to him.
"What's your name? "April. We actually worked together but you probably don't remember me." "What did we work on? I'm very drunk." "I know. We worked on What's My Line at Acme Comedy Theatre."
He stared at me, corn kernels dropping off his chin.
"I never did that show." "No, you did, we were both on the panel together." "No, I'm telling you I did not. I never did that fucking show. Don't tell me what I did and didn't do, because I never did that fucking show."
"Ok," I said, "maybe it was something else."
At this point, John came out of the mens room and I went over to him.
"Is that Andy Dick?" He asked. "Yes," I replied, "and he's eating your corn."
I took my camera out of my purse and held it up to Andy, who nodded. John and I went back to his table.
"I'm glad you asked if you could take my picture. Some people don't ask and I fuck them up. I go fucking crazy on them. I ruin their fucking cameras."
He looked John up and down.
"Who is that?" "That's my boyfriend, John." "Oh," he said, brightening. "This is my girlfriend."
He turned around and tapped the blonde on her on the shoulder.
"Honey, this is my friend Emily." "April", I said.
His girlfriend didn't even look up from her drink.
"And this is Jorge, he's a comic. And we don't know this guy but he was at the bar. We're going to Vegas. Right after this. You should come with us. I'm really drunk."
I said I just wanted a picture. So we took one.
I thanked him, then I went back to my table and got my things. As we started leaving, Andy called out to us.
"Amy! Where are you going?" "Home." "Don't you want to go to Vegas? We're going right after this." "No, we just want to go home. But thank you." "Ok, well . . . have fun!"
As we walked to the car, I said to John, "I wonder if we have the last photo of Andy Dick alive."
Every night, John and I get in to bed with our two dogs and we watch the Japanese version of Iron Chef.
This only started recently. We'd never even seen Iron Chef until a few months ago. But from the first episode, we were totally hooked.
It was natural we would respond this way. Like other favorites Quincy and CSI: Miami, Iron Chef is basically the same show every night, and we love that kind of TV. If you can say what the people on the show are going to say before they do, can a drinking game be far behind?
Of course, with Iron Chef it's not so much a matter of what's said that's predictable, it's what's used. There are about 30 tools and ingredients that the chefs use over and over again, and up until this show, we'd never heard of any of them. What an education! I can't wait for Christmas so we can cook our turkey in a pig's bladder.
We're also wildly entertained by the enthusiasm they have for organ meats. In fact, the panel of judges audibly smack their lips over every part of the animal you and I would throw out. Lobster brains, codfish livers, squid faces and beef bones boiled down to brown cauldrons of thick gelatin. And everything gets topped with fish fins and edible flowers. We often remark that the finished platters look like something you'd scoop out of your garbage disposal.
As jaw-dropping as the dishes are, nothing compares to the desserts. The Iron Chefs often try to impress the judges with something sweet, and that's no small feat when the main ingredient is haddock. We especially loved the squid ink ice cream, and watching the gray rivulets running down the judge's hands as they licked their hell cones.
So it occurred to us the other night, as Iron Chef Italian made ravioli out of face meat, that this show needs a game. Something you can play at home, in the safety of your own bedroom, where no one will ever force you to eat a goat's ass.
God willing.
So may we present . . . .
There are three cards below. Each has 24 ingredients or tools used by the Iron Chefs; those invincible men of culinary skill. All have the same information, but each is laid out differently, like Bingo.
You don't have to choose a chef. Any time something is used by anyone, you get to mark that box. We think it's very possible that by the time the judges sit down to a steaming plate of flounder pancreas, you could very well be yelling "KAGA!"
We tried it last night for the first time, but it was a cabbage battle, so not a lot of organ meats were used. Hopefully someone will win tonight.
If you play and win, let me know what episode you watched and which of the three cards you played.
thirsty
