It’s been a bit since I’ve written, hasn’t it? My apologies. Things have been rather busy lately and I’ve not done much cooking (I guess a three month vacation from work isn’t as glorious as I thought it would be. Certainly kills my budget, I’ll tell ya). However, recently (Friday 08/05), because of some foresight on my part, The Boyfriend and I were able to go down to Mohegan Sun to see comedian Lewis Black.
It was a great night, overall. The drive down was fantastic; we’re speed demons, the boy and I, but the scenery was absolutely stunning. Upon arriving, we had a few hours to kill before going to the show and, as we’re not old enough, we browsed around the shops to look around. I’ve not seen the whole Casino before, so he showed me around all the shops; my favourites were Lush & Sephora. After checking out all the shops, we browsed around the restaurants. Some of the more memorable restaurants being Bobby Flay’s Bar Americain, The Dubliner, Johnny Rockets (where we ended up eating), and Geno’s Food Court. There was also (to my delight) a Starbucks and a Ben & Jerry’s; both of which, we didn’t end up getting, tempting as it was to get a coffee for the drive home.
Johnny Rockets, for those of you who’ve never been there, is supposed to mimic the diner scene from the 50’s. It’s the original burger joint; you can get yourself a good burger, fries, and a shake to split with your Honey. Actually, cut that last part. I’d rather share an order of cheese fries with my boyfriend than squabble over what kind of shake/malt to drink… and squabble we did before we decided on getting the fries. He wanted a chocolate shake, I wanted vanilla. Wait, he changed his mind! He wanted strawberry (ew), I’ll stick with vanilla. Finally, after 15 minutes of non-decision (this was merely while we were browsing the menu from my laptop the night before we went), he said “Look, with the cost of the shakes, we could probably just get an order of fries instead and just get a coke or something.” While I’ll admit the idea of slurping on a shake old-school style with him would be adorable and all, I really don’t like strawberry and there’s no way he would want to get an Oreo malt with me, so that cute couple experience would just have to wait a bit longer. We did get the fries, they were bland. No offense, some of you may like the fries, but the cheese was, to me, an orange tasteless goo that covered the already tasteless fries. The only thing that gave the aforementioned fries any taste was the ranch dressing that came with the onion rings. A side note: the onion rings, for lack of proper, ladylike terminology, were banging with or without the ranch. I’m not a ranch fan, but it definitely gave the fries taste and brought out the taste even more in the onion rings. Kudos to the person who discovered that pairing because I would have never thought it, well, edible. Moving on, our burgers were great. I know this because the server mixed them up when he gave them to us. It was on my second bite into my boyfriend’s double smokehouse burger that I realised hold on a second, I ordered a single bacon cheese burger… not this double. Speaking up, I told Josh this and we traded burgers. Good thing too- because a side of onion rings, half the order of cheese fries and my single burger later, I was full.
The server stopped by just as we were finishing an laid the check on the table… facing my boyfriend. This (all of it, the show, the dinner, etc) was my boyfriend’s anniversary gift from me, just so you lot know. This said, obviously, he wasn’t paying, as I told him I would (as much as that bothers him). When the server slid the check to Josh, truth be told, it pissed me off, just a bit. I’m all for chivalry, really, I am, but these days, it’s common courtesy (and I’ve seen it before) for the server to slide the check in the middle of the table unassumingly. I wasn’t a bitch about it, not at all, I just didn’t care for the fact he assumed the man would pay. Sorry, but women make money too, and I’ll be damned if you dare tell me “oh but he’s the man he should have paid.” Especially because it was MY ANNIVERSARY GIFT TO HIM. That, in my honest opinion is when it’s okay for the woman to pay. That or if it’s the guy’s birthday, or she suggests the date, at least go 50/50. Call me crazy, but that’s all I know. Yes, I won’t lie, I do enjoy it when a guy pays for dinner for me, it’s sweet. It’s equally as sweet if he asks what I want and he orders for me. I’ve had that happen too… it weirded me out at the time, but it’s the “gentleman thing to do.” Tangent aside, I left the server a good tip and we were on our way.
After dinner we wandered around before the show started. The comedy was great, really, there are so many things I could say about it, but I’ll stick with the minimal as it is a food blog, after-all. Josh and I laughed a bunch during it; Lewis Black is a funny guy. Shoot, even the guy who opened for him, John Bowman, was funny too. It’s kind of hard to describe his comedy to those of you who’ve not seen him on Comedy Central (even if you have it doesn’t do him any justice, at all), so I’ll put it simply: He (Lewis Black) favours the f-bomb a lot, he’s angry, and he sympathises with you if you want to storm out all offended during his comedy; however he’d prefer that you didn’t because it’s rude.
The drive home was nice. I always love long drives at night, it’s kind of my thing. What’s even better than driving home, however, was the bliss that was cooking at 11:30 at night when we got home. Sure, we’d ate a bunch at the Casino, but that had been hours ago and just as we walked through the door, Josh’s stomach growled, his brother’s stomach growled and then mine growled. It was weird, but it worked to our advantage as thankfully there was the college kid’s choice (Ramen noodles) in the cupboard. It’s offensive to call myself a wannabe chef when I cook ramen noodles at quarter to twelve at night. Really, I’m a blight to chef’s everywhere, but can you blame me? I wasn’t about to fire up the oven to bake something fancy (heavy) at midnight. Normal people are sleeping at midnight! Not me though, and thus ramen was the fix-all. Shortly after I finished simmering the ramen so it’d thicken up, the house smelled excellent, and the broth was warm. It was great partially because we had the AC going at 65 downstairs, burr.
At the end of the night, bellies full of soup, sleep found me in my bed, exhausted while my boyfriend decided to stay awake the whole night. It happens. Now, here we are and I’m writing about it four days later in the early morning and our roles are reversed. He’s sleeping at his place and I’ve pulled an all nighter. Expect another blog post later on today/tomorrow concerning my cooking exploits today. I plan on making the boys breakfast quesadillas, chicken alfredo for lunch and then letting his mom worry about dinner. So I’ll have plenty to write about. In the meantime, I’ve not slept yet and it’s already almost quarter after six… I think I’ll sneak in an hour nap.
Hope your weekends were great. Stay hungry mates.