Imagine for one second that you happened to forget that it was Valentine’s Day next week. Maybe you were busy at work, maybe you were simply swamped with World of Warcraft, who cares. You forgot and now your wife is giving you the what for. I know how you feel, I’ve been there before. There’s a reason the arms of my micro-fiber couch have sleepy-drool stains on them.
Fear not compadres, there is a foolproof way to get yourself out of the dog house and back on that lovely pedestal.
Step 1: Flowers (they are all suckers for dead plants).
Step 2: Learn the value of a good-ole, tear jerkin’ apology.
Step 3: Surprise her with a night out at Stephan Pyles.
You wife will be putty in your hands.
It was bound to happen: pizza lover and baseball writer, Evan Grant, finally met pizza maker and baseball lover, Jay Jerrier. The twosome came up with a publicity stunt. (SHOCKER) They invented “Name a Pizza for Mike Napoli” contest. (If you don’t know who Napoli is, you can go back to work.) If you love the catcher-first-baseman-DH lovingly referred to as “Dirtbag,” you will love this: Today, Grant and Jerrier announced four finalists plus Grant’s unofficial “look-how-funny-I-am”entry, “The (he wishes) Grand Salami.” Hear him brag:
After much consideration, pizza-maker extraordinaire Jay Jerrier and pizza-eater extraordinaire Evan Grant (that’s me), have come up with four finalists for our Name a Napoli Pizza contest.Tuesday (Feb. 7 or tomorrow to most of you), we will roll out some samples of these fine entries for you to taste and, as always, the full Cane Rosso menu will be available. One of these fine recipes will end up as a special pie on the Cane Rosso menu for the next month and one of these neophyte pizza creators will walk away with a nice little prize package. Maybe we can come up with some other surprises, too. So, if you are free come on down. We’d love your input here and at the restaurant. Here are the finalists. Be there at 7PM.
Last night, Anthony Bourdain fans packed the Majestic Theater. Baseball be damned, the worshipers of All-Things-Anthony showed up to lay themselves at the cowboy-booted feet of their hero.
Tony walked onto the stage at 8:10 and greeted the audience: “I am a whore. I am in every way compromised, jaded, bought and paid for, including my nice f—ing jacket.”
For the next hour and 45 minutes, the crowd hung on his every word. He was loose, casual, at ease, good-natured, straight forward, no bull. He was exactly the guy you see on TV, except, in person, you could see just how fine he wears boot-cut jeans.
After the show, we got to hang out with Tony and watch him sign books and greet his fans. Hundreds of folks bought books and stood in line to get his autograph. He walked into the VIP room and he very calmly said, “Look, I’m here and I’m not leaving until every book is signed, every picture is taken. I’m not in a hurry, so grab some food, have a drink, relax.”
I plan to write a longer report, but my day job calls. In the meantime, I’ll post the pictures that Tony most graciously allowed our photographer, Elizabeth Lavin, to shoot. Oh, and John “Jimmy Sears” Tesar was there. I mean everywhere. If you notice him in every shot, it is because he tried to get in every shot. At one point I thought he was going to start signing copies of Bourdain’s Medium Raw. He could have. That’s how he serves his burgers.
On to the show.