Starbucks had me at hello.

 I mean that, sincerely.  It was love at first sight.  I’m whipped like the frothy top of a mocha frapaccino. 

I knew they would teach me about coffee, about the blissful concoctions that could be created when the right amount of steam falls in love with the right amount of milk while flirting with a couple squirts of vanilla syrup (who happened to be minding their own business and discussing life with two shots of espresso). 

A latte? Sure, I’ll try one.

 I remember the first day I tasted this sweet nectar of life.  I was done. I wanted it to tell me it loved me, move in with me, I would quit my job and move cross country…just don’t ever leave me. 

We make out. Daily. Sometimes more than once.

Yes…Starbucks taught me coffee. I had no idea they were going to teach me to talk.

“Double Tall, Sugar Free Vanilla, Non-Fat Latte”

Said in that order, specifically. It’s like writing a song, a perfect sonnet to it’s endearing beauty.  And the poem IS perfect, it is not to be changed.  When “sugar free/non-fat” became “skinny,” I was like a lost child.  Where does “skinny” fit in?  Before ”tall?” After “vanilla?” What do I do? Help!  If I blow my order, I was sure I would be out of the club.

“Double, Tall, Skinny, Vanilla Latte.”   

SUCCESS!  Potential crisis averted…I was back!

As the order was read back to me, it was like slow motion:

 ”Ok sir, that will be a tall skinny vanilla latte, add a shot”

Add a shot?  Where did “add a shot” come from? Did I miss a meeting?  Did I lose the brochure? I was ruined.  I was convinced my perfect latte had thrown everything into a suitcase and was headed  to her mother’s.

Wait…snap out of it!

I was surprised at how much “add a shot” threw me off.  i’m a grown man…talking about a coffee order.  Yet, I actually got the same feeling in my stomach that one would get when they blow a big presentation at a board meeting.  Did I say something wrong?  Did I offend?

Luckily, your avarage barista is like a camp counselor.  When I have a question about the pitch, cadence or order of my order, I just ask.  Plus, I hear Starbucks treats their employees extremely well, so everyone is usually in a pretty festive mood.

Our drink order defines us.  Mine says: “his weight yo-yo’s like a supermodel.” I deal.

By the way, me and my latte…still together.  And it’s still magic every show.

I steal spoons. 

I guess. 

It was sometime during my first day here at Alice, when I was forced to eat a frozen dinner with a post-it note, that I realized that plastic utensils in this building are as highly coveted as cigarettes in prison: scarce, sought-after and probably exchangeable for favors…big favors.   

I found myself at one of those high-end, organic-type food stores buying some fruit and yogurt parfaits (I got myself a refrigerator in the corner office…it’s dreamy) and they had BINS of FREE plastic utensils at the front of the store.  It was a “grab one on your way out/on your honor” kind of thing.  Grab one…ONE…and go.  The problem is, lack of eating utensils when you are hungry will drive a person to throw a fit…a small one mind you…but a fit nonetheless.  Hunger with food in the vicinity but no way to transport it to your mouth is pure hell.  Not something I wanted to re-live ever again.  And the plastic utensil cournucopia was opened up before me.     

As it turns out, the prospect of assaulting an endless bin of free spoons was too much to resist.  I took a cue from my grandmother and shoved fifteen or so of them in my bag to take to work.  I mean, they ARE free.  Not only that, but I DID just plunk down for five yogurt parfaits and five regular yogurts from this fine food establishment (what can I say? I like the cultures and health benefits). THAT should EARN me ten to fifteen spoons easy, right? 

Why do I feel like my mom should drag me back to the counter, shake my bag upside down so it rains spoons and apologize to the check-out clerk? Grandma does it with Sweet and Low at her favorite restaurants.  Why do I feel like I need to drop some quarters in the box?  

My question is this:  Is this something EVERYBODY does?  Or have I somehow become part of the lowest common denominator, some sort of spoon-stealing clique.  If EVERYONE does it, does EVERYBODY ELSE know?  I mean, if you work at Taco Bell, do you just assume you’re going to lose an additional 40-50 sporks a day? Do you plan for something like this?  Is it in your yearly PNL report?  I know…I’m a little neurotic about this…but I gotta know.  Am I the lone spoon stealer?  Times are tough man. I understand we used to get a supply of spoons here, but those days probably went out when we lost “choose your sprinkles free doughnut day,” who knows. 

Md   

First of all, I want to thank you for the warm welcome to Alice at 97.3.  I’m the new host of the afternoon show (3p-7p) and everyone who has called in has been awesome.  I had no idea that Alice was such a family.  Thanks.

So Brad, our webmaster, has been bugging me to start a blog.  Not really my thing, I don’t find myself that fascinating.  What could I possibly get on my soap box about?  The election is covered, gay marriage is legal and the New Kids are back on tour.  I have very little to complain about.

How about one of my favorite subjects?  Food.

 Naturally, I start my first bog with a bit of Latin. 

Gustatus Similis Pullus

Loosely translated it means: “Tastes Like Chicken” which is the consummate battle cry of even the most novice foodie.  Probably created because, as an Epicurean adventurer, you need encouragement and confirmation when you are about to stuff your face with something as delectable sounding as duck scrapple or ox tail, both relatively tame dishes unless this is your first foray away from the world of plain cheeseburgers and club sandwiches. 

I am not a food expert, I am not the authority.  I speak for the average person that wants to develop a deeper love affair with food and take their palette where it has never been but has no idea where to start.  My best advice for anyone aspiring to be a foodie: if you like it, it’s good.  If you don’t it isn’t.  Just because someone else thinks it’s the greatest thing they ever set their taste buds on, doesn’t mean YOU have to like it, or feel strange if you don’t.  Simple advice, I know.  You would be amazed at how many people “grin and bear it” when they try something and find it absolutely repulsive because of the social backlash from the table.  That being said, you should always TRY.  Just once, TRY IT.  It may sound, look, or smell disgusting but you may make a friend for life with fish cheeks, bone marrow or sauteed snails…you never know.

On the flip side, moderation is key.  Yes, foie gras in a red wine reduction may be the richest, most flavorful thing you’ve ever eaten. Or maybe the cheesy biscuits at the Fog City Diner(I would trade in a small child for one) call your name.  But show some restraint.  If you go decadent one night, it’s back to grilled chicken salads and mixed berries the next.  I have NO idea how Anthony Bourdain(”No Reservations” on the Travel Channel) does it.  That guy’s eating/drinking/smoking habits would kill me.  He is blessed.

Start slow…grab the pork belly and leave it at that.  If you try to hit too much weirdness at once it could be overwhelming.  Make a list of the spots you have been DYING to try and just go for it. 

I’ve only been here a couple of months so I don’t have my list together yet.  I got some help instead.  For small plates, Bacar (on Brannan) comes recommended from a trusty source as does Terza in the Marina.  I can’t vouch for either yet, haven’t been there.  I’ll let you know when I make the trip.

If you need a great restaurant in Seattle (my former stomping grounds) I’m your guy.  If you know a place I should try, let me know.  Four thousand restaurants in the Bay Area…it’s good to be home.

Md