yardbird {miami}

definition of heaven: with them, eating that.
nothing. nothing compares to a long, early evening meal with fabulous food, amazing friends, mustard cocktails, and natural lighting...
like the one a few days ago at
{in miami, not to be confused with 
it was one of those meals that was so good, it'd be worth trading my opposable thumbs for. because my friends are so great, they'd make up a brilliant way to make fun of me and then help cut my chicken. i'm so in love.
protocol for toasting during this trip was to say paradiddles instead of cheers, making everything about the trip a "business expense."
and, yes, that is a mustard effing cocktail. 
the porkchop citrus juice + apple cider + benchmark bourbon + dijon + thyme
i considered asking for extra mustard like i do with everything,
but instead i enjoyed it as it was meant to be. 
and it was not-too-sweet and refreshing and yummypants.
sel de mer's fatty miami fried green tomato counterpart was topped with pimento cheese and an unbelievable piece of melt-in-yr-potty-mouth pork belly. usually i write off pork belly as so 36 months ago, but not when it's this good.
veggie pot pie: an extremely respectable veggie option for a place called chicken.
left: rob does what percussionists do when they get wild/crazy.
right: alan laughs at him, or something else. 
it's hard to tell when everyone spends the entire meal laughing.
hearty & firm chicken biscuits with pepper jelly and pickley things.
you are the macaroni to my grayson, virginia cheese.

with my old roomie! and brian {of the tag, brian is numnums}

reason number two for why i'd move to miami is the freshness of the fruit and veggies. i'm no watermelon connoisseur, but i know when i die upon eating something. above are the melons & farm cheese which were unlike anything i'd ever had, texturally. an unoffensive crumbly cheese. and a crisp and juicy watermelon... formed an odd pairing that i am just now, in my tiny new york apartment, craving. which is the wrong place to crave that. but this one took thought and absence.
post dinner: eight grown men rolling around on the floor, violet beauregarde style, and one and a half asian girls nodding violently to the possibility of dessert.
bluebee crumble with corn ice cream.
yes, we want that.
complete success.
i'm even gonna use caps and bold to convey it:
COMPLETE SUCCESS.
the entire meal was simply nailguns. 
literally, paradise.
the memories of it can go in a little ball jar and sit on my desk now. 
i'll open it every time i need a good smile.
-yeh!!!

miami.


this morning i awoke from the dream that is miami in the spring time.
i was sunburnt and sandy,
a bit more chubby,
and happy as can be.
minus the sunburnt part, it was absolutely the greatest.
over the sometimes-rainy-but-usually-sunny past four days,
i spent time with some of my favorite people,
figured out my life plan,
became an expert kayaker {met a few dolphins in the process},
and took in most of my calories shortly before sunrise. bad, bad molly.
you know what it was? it was that stupid happy state that people get in when they're, like, in love-- i was as happy with my favorite people eating a prosciutto and fresh mozzarella croissant from sandwicherie in the wee hours of the morning as i was sitting in a car in traffic driving an hour to pick up two kegs of yeungling as i was watching that fantastic performance of turangal├«la.
i couldn't have asked for anything more except for my sunglasses that rob lost somewhere in the ocean. whatever! here's an embarrassing photo of him as payback:
it is officially time for detox week to begin.
-yeh!


week 9: big pink




miami has three types of restaurants:

1. the kind that uses big boobies to attract customers
{such as... ALL of the restaurants on lincoln road}
2. little dives like la sandwicherie and el rey de las fritas that are a bit off the beaten path but worth it.
3. diners where the menus are the size of a four year old.

... and so when my best bribery efforts to get a ride to el rey failed,
saved me from having to endure big boobied hostesses.


the victims, left to right: 
sue, mark, brian, me, rob 
{five points if you guess which ones are related}

...it was your typical huge diner-y restaurant that apparently all of miami flocks to for sunday brunch,
and it has some quirky menu items,
such as a tv style dinner, complete with sectioned tray,
and various things served in buckets...

like the calamari and shrimp that i tried for the first time
and the calamari i kind of liked
and the shrimp made me want to puke my brains out.
{the men loved em though}

...so then our mains came.

and then about ten minutes later our silverware came.

like what?
rob wonders how he should eat his tuna sammich

brian showcases his lox pizza with caviar
which might as well have been a bagel & lox
too salty for brian's taste
{wimp}
a+ for creativity, i thought it was delightfully mediocre

when i couldn't decide what to get on the 4 foot by 4 foot menu,
mark told me to close my eyes and point at something,
and i got
the big pink hollywood breakfast
polenta fries topped with spinach, bacon, and poached eggs...
covered in cheese sauce
{cheese sauce on the side for me please, for the sake of my poor heart}




and i learned two things:


1. there's a reason polenta fries aren't more popular
2. having to watch your poor food lose heat while a sassy aloof waitress hunts down silverware is more painful than you will ever know. 


p.s. what self 'specting restaurant serves nacho cheese?





anyways.
in the end,
sassy waitresses and the absence of silverware 
did not ruin the meal
because
us midwesterners were in the sun,
graced with people we love,
and enthralled in good conversation.


...43 to go...


xoxo


yeh



big pink is located at 157 collins ave in miami