The Ravenous Pig (Dinner Review), Winter Park, FL

I have been chomping at the bit to drive back over to Winter Park and experience The Ravenous Pig's full menu ever since UD and I hit it for lunch the first Saturday in September only to discover that it was "pig roast day".  While we were served up a fine plate of barbecue on that occasion and a new addiction (Truffle Fries) was born, I have not been able to get some of the regular menu items I've been reading so much about (Lobster Tacos and Gruyere Biscuits, to name a couple) off my mind.  The fact that TRP's chef, James Petrakis, recently made the James Beard Foundation’s 2011 Restaurant & Chef Semi-Finalists list for Best Chef South has done nothing to ease my obsession.  We finally coordinated a return visit with our friends Debbie and Steve who live over on that side of the world and were willing to accompany us (and also let us crash at their place afterwards). Thanks, guys!

We arrived right on time for our 8:45 reservation and were seated immediately.  Our server, Caitlin, was extremely enthusiastic, knowledgeable and professional in spite of the fact that she was quite young (good service and youth don't always go hand-in-hand)...she did a great job. 

The hubster and I wanted to try several menu items, so we decided to stick to the Pub Fare and Starters sections of the monthly-changing menu and order tapas-style, while Steve and Deb opted for entrees.  To get the party started, the four of us shared a $4 basket of House-made Gruyere Biscuits with Smoked Sea Salt Butter.  These luscious delectables reminded me more of densely-packed croissants than any biscuit I have ever had.  They were warm, crispy on the outside and and filled with tender, flaky layers on the inside...the Gruyere ratcheting up these already-ethereal pillows of goodness another notch with its mellow, nutty flavor.  They honestly didn't even need butter...but since the smoked sea salt butter was there, it didn't seem right not to slather it on.  No one was trying to diet last night. 

My first small plate was Shrimp and Grits (local royal red shrimp, C&D Mill grits, green tomato chutney and chorizo oil) which was a luxurious dish.  Royal red shrimp are the absolute best...harvested from the deepest waters of the Atlantic and Gulf of Mexico, they have a rich, lobster-like flavor and texture.  The grits from C & D Mills (a Florida company which purchases corn direct from farmers and grinds it with a 1926 hit-and-miss engine) were creamy and superb.  The fresh corn added a nice touch, as well.  I'm not a raw tomato lover, so the green tomato chutney did nothing to inspire me.  To the rest of the dish's credit, it did nothing to stop me, either.

With expectations running ridiculously high (and being met or surpassed right off the bat), there was really no direction in which to go but down.  The Lobster Tacos I had been coveting online for so long failed to deliver.  The first problem was that the lobster bits (and they were bits) were so tiny and heavily coated in tempura batter that they could've been Jimmy Hoffa nuggets as far as I could discern.  To further obliterate their delicate taste, the tacos were lavished with the strong, sour accoutrements of pickled jalepeno and cabbage slaw. I didn't like it...At. All.  I think larger, more lightly breaded pieces of a meatier seafood like amberjack would stand up better in these tacos. Underdog agreed, so the verdict is final.

On the opposite side of the table, our pals were similarly unimpressed with their House-made Soft Pretzels with whole grain mustard and taleggio-porter fondue. They were taken away largely untouched with Steve's complaint that they tasted like something that had spent too much time in a county fair vendor's cart...tough and just not good.  To TRP's credit, our server immediately and without question took it off of our bill.

Back on SPP and UD's side of the table, the veryadventurous dish of Offal Frito Misto (crispy-fried sweetbreads, chicken livers, duck hearts, pickles, blood orange pieces and chickpeas) had been slid under the spousal-unit's nose.  He did a respectable job of channeling Andrew Zimmern and snarfed the better part of it.  I reluctantly took a duck heart, which was okay if you're an offal fan.  I generally draw the line at liver, however.  He ultimately deemed it fine (if not "special") but that's the beauty of battering and deep-frying...it makes almost anything palatable.  Nothing like a side of Witte Beer Honey Mustard to help the medicine go down, either. 

Last and least favorite of the starters we tried was Suckling Pig and Bay Scallops with King Farms romanesco and apple salad.  It looked interesting on paper, but I thought this dish was too contrived and the tiny scallops were all but lost in an unappealing sea of incongruous ingredients which somehow brought to mind the visual of a trailer park in the aftermath of a tornado.  Maybe the pork and apples would've been better without the scallops and broccoli, but this didn't hold much appeal for any of us.

Let's check out the entrees.  Debbie's Vande Rose Farms Pork Porterhouse was the table favorite and had us all bitterly wishing we wuz her.  It was arguably the largest pork chop I've ever seen, tender and flavorful, with a beautiful balsamic caramel finish.  I thought the Y-Chromes were going to brawl over who got to gnaw the bone!  The Hammock Hollow Gigande Beans and Greens in Bacon Broth were urbane spins on southern comfort fare that this Middle Tennessee girl could eat and appreciate ANY day.  SO good...all they needed was some cornbread. 

Steve was disappointed with his Chorizo-Crusted Cod with white bean puree, braised coco bean ragu and sherry foam and I have to say that I did not think it looked appetizing in the least (I'm desperately trying to resist making any visual comparisons to "tossed cookies" here...oops, looks like I failed). I must also add that I am not a fan of foam in culinary creations.  As far as I'm concerned,  it serves absolutely no purpose other than taking up precious plate space.

The final verdict was that this entree did little to excite the taste buds (and I'm being kind).  Let's face it...cod is what Long John Silver uses for his Fish Planks and (contrary to popular belief) there are some things that even pork fat can't make fabulous. Should've gone with the Red Snapper, Steve.

Want to see some desserts? You know you do! The best of the three we tried were Steve and Debbie's Pigtails.  These guys were sort of a twist on churros and chocolate, with the pastry portion fashioned to resemble porcine posterier appendages, served with chocolate-espresso dipping sauce. Warm, cinnamony and simple decadence.

Underdog went with the gimmicky "Cake and Ice Cream", a contrived offering consisting of three small carrot cupcakes (pretty dry as far as carrot cake goes) served with a small, rather thin ginger and sweet milk milkshake, which also didn't over go over very well.  When UD doesn't clean his dessert plate, something's wrong...BAD wrong.  Looked cute, though...didn't it?

Bread pudding is my weakness, so my heart beat a little faster when I saw Cherry Pecan Bread Pudding on the menu.  My heart also sank a little when I dug in and found a dryness level that neither the ice cream nor the sauce could mitigate.  Listen up, people...every chef needs to eat the Columbia Restaurant's bread pudding so they understand what it's supposed to be like (yes, I know they are not forging any new culinary paths...but they have this particular thing down to an art form).  Dense.  VERY dense.  Moist.  SUPER moist.  I don't want dry bread cubes springing off of my spoon when I dig in...the operative word is "pudding".  Thanks. 

Not as wonderful as it looked.

Final word:  Some hits, some misses...but a good time with good friends and good wine.  The menu changes monthly and enough of it was really good tonight to make me want to return...plus creativity always garners bonus points.

http://www.theravenouspig.com/

OTTO Enoteca Pizzeria, New York, NY

So...OTTO is Mario Batali's "low end" pizza and pasta joint in NYC (and, mind you, it's "OH-toe", not AH-toe"). Okay, whatever.  And, yeah...it's pretty cool inside, designed to look like a train station. And, true...I did like the terracotta paint on the walls and the hip vibe...but jeebus, it's little more than an upscale Spaghetti Warehouse that desperately needs to tone down its ridiculous aura of self-importance.  It's not like OTTO is the The French Laundry.

I made our reservations on Opentable.com, upon which time I immediately received the email memo that our party of three MUST all be present before anyone would be seated...and got a follow-up voicemail echoing that policy (also reminding me that it's OH-toe, not AH-toe).  No problem.

Our party of three was promptly seated upon arrival (all at the same time, thank gawd...I wouldn't want to have to be waterboarded).  Service was efficient and brusque...that's the best I can say about it.  No one wants you to overstay your welcome at OTTO. 

We started by ordering a $35 bottle of sparkling wine (and subsequently ordered a second) and were little surprised that it was served in wine goblets as opposed to sparkling wine flutes.  Cold, nondescript bread wrapped in brown paper was unceremoniously plopped down for our enjoyment.

I began the meal by ordering the Fennel, Apple and Walnut Salad...which was fine and fresh, but which I was not inspired to finish because it wasn't particularly special and I was saving stomach room for the main event.

Our young companion ordered a "salad" of roasted red peppers, pine nuts, pesto and cheese, which pleased her mightily.  I actually couldn't stand the sight of it, however...but I seem to have been a "hating" mood that night.  Hey, it happens (dayum hormones).


Really, what I thought was the star of this meal were Underdog's Charcuterie and Cheese plates. The meats were ridiculously good (Prosciutto, Lonza, Coppa, Testa and Salumi) and the cheeses were accompanied by Truffle Honey (which absolutely rawked) as well as Apricot and Cherry spreads (also both very nice with the cheese).  I hate to mince words...these offerings were to. die. for.  Even if our server did whisk away the truffle honey, apricot and cherry accompaniments before we were finished with the cheese.  Again, lingering is not appreciated here...eat up and get out.

Pastas?  Fairly forgettable.

I went traditional and selected the "Spaghetti & Meatball" Wednesday night special, which was fine in a Buca di Beppo kinda way (although I thought the meatballs were somewhat better than average and UD actually thought they were outstanding, but he's on his own as far as that assessment).  "Unremarkable" is the adjective that springs to my mind when I reflect back.

Brooke loved her Spaghetti Carbonara, however...although the taste I got of it did not bowl me over (at least not in the way I was expecting to be bowled over by a pasta dish with a Batali stamp on it).  By this time, I was desperately wishing I could be beamed back to La Viola in Philly.

The hub-unit ordered a weird, sauceless pizza topped with potato slices, anchovies and ricotta, which no one liked. WTF???  Who dreamed up this abomination?  I can't believe it was my Mario!  I'll bet he wouldn't put this in front of Jeffrey Steingarten.

Desserts were mostly gelato-based and also uniformly mediocre (to be fair, ice cream, gelato, sorbet, etc., treats are not my favorites to begin with).  I got the $9 Meyer Lemon Pannacotta with Huckleberry Sauce and Meyer Lemon Sorbetto, which was pretty good but fell short of being even remotely memorable.

Brooke ordered the Guiness Stout Coppetta - Dark Chocolate Gelato, Guinness Stout Gelato, Coffee Bourbon Sauce, Chocolate Crumble and Peanut Crema.  This is what an $11 ice cream sundae looks like:

Finally, Jimbo opted for the $11 Black and White, which was probably the best dessert of the bunch:  Milk Chocolate Chip Gelato, Hazelnut Croccante, Creme Fraiche Gelato, Chocolate Sauce, and Caramel Crema.  He's a frozen treat lover and really enjoyed it.

If this is your idea of a $250 "pizzeria" meal, go for it.  We don't mind paying top dollar for fine cuisine, but I felt that the food quality and experience did not warrant the price tag.  I would never return...except perhaps for the cheese and charcuterie (but if I did, I'd keep a death grip on that Truffle Honey until every morsel of cheese was gone).

http://www.ottopizzeria.com/

La Viola Ovest, Philadelphia, PA

The original La Viola is always on my "must eat" destination list whenever I go to Philadelphia, and it seemed like the perfect choice for a late Valentine's Day lunch since Underdog and I had tickets to see Anthony Bourdain at the Keswick Theater later that evening (so having a V-Day dinner was out).  Ordinarily, I'm not that much of a pasta fan...there's something about pasta dishes that seem kind of "unspecial", particularly the ones we find at home in Tampa.  La Viola's pasta creations, however, are bona fide, dreamy, al dente perfection...the kind that make me want a cigarette after I'm finished, only I don't smoke.  ;)  Oh, and did I mention that La Viola is a BYOB with no corkage fee (I'm sure I did in another blog blog post because it makes me so incredibly happy), which makes it the deal of the century in downtown Philly?

We arrived at the restaurant around 2:00 with wine bottles in tow, only to learn that La Viola was closed on Mondays.  Never fear...their sister restaurant across the street, La Viola Ovest, was open for business and a server from that location met us as we were exiting to escort us and carry our wine. It is almost identical to La Viola, only with a slightly more expansive menu and a few more seats.  Same relatively simple interior with white walls and tablecloths, though...and same great service and cuisine. 

I love smoked fish (especially smoked trout), so I zeroed right in on the Smoked Trout Salad with capers, artichoke hearts lightly dressed in an Italian vinaigrette.  This was a wonderful salad...the trout was delightful and the greens were crisp, cold and fresh (I could've looked all day long and not found a single brown edge).  Raw tomatoes are one of the few foods I can't abide, but UD is always happy to take them off my hands (or my salad, as the case may be).

My Valentine started with the Antipasta Mista, lightly dressed greens topped with Italian meats, cheeses and marinated veggies, which seemed to go over well, judging from the practically licked-clean plate that remained.

Neither of us could come to terms with NOT trying the Gnocchi Al Filetto Di Pomodoro (spinach and ricotta cheese with homemade gnocchi in a fresh tomato basil sauce) even though we both had other entrees in mind, so we decided to split an order (which our server graciously offered to serve on separate plates for us).  Ummm...somebody pass me the smelling salts because I may faint from just reviewing the photo.  This was Sofa King wonderful...pillow-like, spinach-and-potato-y goodness, topped with mind-blowing sauce, crumbled gorgonzola, and hand-grated parmesan cheese.  *thud*

Next up in the Carbohydrate Overload was my Penne Alla Caruso...pencil point pasta in a vodka and tomato sauce lightly creamed with peas and pancetta.  Yes, it tasted as good as it sounds...otherworldy, almost.  Try not to hate me.  ;)

I've mentioned before that Underdog has a tough time passing up veal and I almost heard the little bells go off in his head when our server decribed the special of the day...veal medallions in a roasted red pepper sauce with capers and green olives.  Yes, folks...we haz a winner!  It simply met his expectations...but I would be remiss if I failed to mention that he's an anal-retentive perfectionist whose bar is always set at a ridiculous height. lol  He loved it.

Since it was Valentine's Day (and everyone knows that holiday calories don't count), we could find no good reason to cease our Hoovering post-entree...not to mention we hadn't finished our wine yet.  La Viola serves some fine desserts, albeit not as fine as their pasta dishes IMO, and we were feeling quite festive (that's a euphemism for "buzzed").  I ordered the rum cake, which I have had before at the other location and always enjoy.  This dessert is not made in-house, but it's quite good nonetheless...super moist and boozy, not overly sweet, and with a touch of chocolate to add interest.

UD likes his ice cream and opted for a perfect ball of French vanilla enrobed in chocolate.  Simple, yet very nice.

Now we've finished both bottles.  Can we take a cab back to the hotel, dear?

Thanks for another wonderful meal, La Viola!  We had Mario Batali pasta in New York City a few nights after we visited you...and, honestly, it paled in comparison and cost twice as much (even at Mario's "family" restaurant).  More to come.

http://philadelphia.menupages.com/restaurants/la-viola-ovest/

Estia, Philadelphia,PA

UD and I first stumbled upon Estia on a trip to Philly two or three years ago and I have been dying to return ever since enjoying an absolutely outstanding $17 two-course prix fixe lunch on that occasion.  During last week's visit to Philadelphia, our schedule finally cooperated and we were able to experience an amazing afternoon repast at this visually stunning venue.  Estia is a gorgeous restaurant, cavernesque and resplendant in its hand-chiseled Jerusalem limestone floors, hand woven rugs, vaulted ceilings, antiqued stucco walls, wood plank floors and exposed wood beams.  Service is impeccable and highly professional (thanks for taking such excellent care of us on both of our visits, Saki!).  Boyz, make a note....this would be an elegant, romantic and impressive spot to take a date.

After braving the cold and wind in a brisk 30-minute walk through Center City, we finally reached "The Precious" at around 2:00 PM.  Helllooooo, Beautiful...I have been saving my calories for you all day!

There was a very nice looking (and reasonably priced for the city, I thought) Sunday brunch menu available which included a Mimosa, Bloody Mary, Bellini or Screwdriver, but I had my eye on the Greek cuisine that I remembered being so wonderful.  Some rustic bread and fabulously fresh and tangy hummus were delivered while we perused the menu.

The Meze (Mediterranean "tapas") menu was enough to make me feel faint...I wanted one of everything on it.  My better half was in more of an entree mood, so we struck a deal. We agreed to start with three or four mezedes and then share the entree of his choice. First up:  Spanakopita (spinach, feta, leeks, scallions and dill baked in phyllo).  Hands down, the best I have ever put in my mouth...and I have done my share of snarfing my way through Tarpon Springs (a local Florida Gulf Coast Greek community).  The pastry would've floated away in a stray breeze and the spinach filling was ridiculously light, tender and flavorful...almost like a spinach souffle in texture.  My eyes were literally rolling back in my head as I savored these tempting triangles (UD only got one...and that was just because he's the one who brought me to Philly, so I was feeling beholden). 

The Melizanosalata (traditional roasted baby eggplant spread with warm pita triangles) similarly rocked my world.  My gawd...how can eggplant and bread be turned into something so orgasmic?  Only the guys in Estia's gleaming open kitchen hold the key to that mystery.

The next ethereal offering was Estia Chips, fried zucchini and eggplant served with tzatziki.  Ummm...I have enjoyed many house-made chips and fried veggies in my day, and they have all been eclipsed by this decadent stack of not-quite-chips but closer to that than your run of the mill fried zucchini or eggplant slices.  Cut razor thin, with only the scantest, crispiest hint of breading (an incredibly microscopic film of wet batter similar to tempura, I'm guessing), these were decadent...and probably my favorite dish of of the meal.  The cool and tangy tzatziki and made an outstanding dipping sauce.  I loved it...look how beautiful it was!

It was at this point in the dining experience that I realized that I was achieving a remarkable level of satiation while still not having touched a morsel of meat.  Unheard of (for me, anyway).  Estia would be a great dining destination for a vegetarian, I think.  The carnivorous UD, however, was ready to tear into some animal flesh...and the Octopodi (which which we have fondly reflected on many times since our first visit to Estia) did not disappoint. 

This dish of grilled and marinated octopus, sliced and served over red and sweet onions, dressed with grilled peppers, capers and red wine vinaigrette, brought us both to our knees.  Saki explained to us the Estia process for creating its almost lobster-like perfection.  First, the octopuses (octopi?) are imported from the coast of Portugal and Spain, where the most tastylicious specimens in the world are rumored to reside.  As part of the preparation process, they are put through the rinse and spin cycle in a dedicated "Octopus Maytag" to clean and tenderize them (and I can only pray that they are not still alive when that happens). After that, they are first cooked and then marinated.  I'm not sure when in the process they are sliced, but at some point they are...and those perfect ivory disks are then grilled to caramelized, mouth-watering nirvana when ordered.  Sorry my intelligent, eight-tentacled friend...you are gone, but I can promise that you will never be forgotten! *urp*

Already at the belt-loosening stage, we were forced to make a decision between ordering the Souvlaki Platter Underdog had his eye on or going straight for dessert.  The latter won.  Saki recommended the Ekmek (pistachios layered between kataifi filo, custard and whipped cream) and since he had not steered us wrong so far, who were we to sass him?  OMG.  The Ekmek was almost cloudlike in its subtle fluffiness...the pistachios blending perfectly with the light, creamy custard; snowflake-on-the-tongue pastry; and slightest hint of citrus (which Saki confirmed was the result of a pinch of orange zest). There was also an indefinable taste in the pastry which I learned via my endless interrogation (which Saki handled most graciously) was rose water. Wow!  He also described the love and care that go into the creation of this confection (apparently, it must be made regularly and in small batches because it cannot survive more than about eight hours without having its quality suffer...and clearly quality-suffering is not allowed between these walls). 

We also tried the Baklava (how could we not?), which again featured the feather-light phyllo we experienced in the other dishes with a gentler-than-average-hand with the honey and nuts.  Fabu!

L-R (Ekmek and Baklava).  Don't even think about reaching for a bite lest you pull back a bloody stump.  :p

Someone was definitely a happy camper...especially after I picked up the tab!

After the second visit, it's official...Estia is now one of my favorite restaurants anywhere.  All of this, plus two glasses of Chardonnay for me, two cocktails for Dogboy, and a glass each of Graham's Six Grapes Port with dessert came to just under $120.  Swoonworthy!

http://www.estiarestaurant.com/

An Evening With Anthony Bourdain, Philadelphia, PA

I've been a huge fan of Anthony Bourdain ever since he first appeared on Food Network's "A Cook's Tour" back in 2002.  Maybe "fan" is an understatement because, let's face it...if he lived within 500 miles of Tampa, I'd probably be stalking him. He is to Sweet Polly what Justin Bieber is to 12-year-old girls (and, yes...I'll be the first to admit that I'm waaaaay too old for this!). 

It all started back in July of last year when I learned that my beloved would be bringing his "An Evening With Anthony Bourdain" show to Mahaffey Theater in November...and, that in addition to general admission tickets, a limited number of VIP tickets were being sold (which included a backstage meet-and-greet and book signing opportunity). After racing to Ticketmaster's site at warp speed, I quickly discerned that the VIP tickets were long gone.  At that point, I morphed into full-on sulk mode and told Underdog that it would only make me angry to be so close and yet so far away...and if the proletariate tickets were the only ones I could get my hands on, I didn't even want to go. 

After diving into a phone booth and donning his superhero cape, Underdog scoured the web for other upcoming venues and quickly determined that VIP seating was still available for the Valentine's Day show in Philadelphia.  The tickets were procured along with my pinky swear that a Valentine's week trip to Philly and New York City would cover the spousal unit's arse 100% for Christmas, my birthday AND Valentine's Day...thus the trip planning began.  Seven long months later, the dream finally came to fruition.

Tony's one-man-show took place at the Keswick Theater, which holds around 1,300 people and provided a nice intimacy level.  UD must've swiped the tickets about 7 seconds after they went on sale because we wound up in the second row.  Sweet!  Mr. B (who was familiarly dressed in faded jeans, western boots, a black tee and a jacket) emerged onto the stage right on time with minimal fanfare.  Sorry...no flash photography was allowed in the theater (boo!).

The event was actually quite entertaining, starting out with some clearly well rehearsed stand-up comedy routine-esque jokes (delivered pretty well for a non-comedian) and anecdotes about Food Network and its "stars".  What we learned:

• Tony doesn't hate Rachel Ray or Emeril nearly as much as we thought he did.
• He respects Food Network even less than we thought he did ("Anyone who can spray Cheez Whiz on a Triscuit meets their requirements for the position of Show Host").
• Sandra Lee is uber-creepy...something I have long suspected, but which UD turns a blind eye to because she has a nice "oven rack".
• He thinks Ina Garten and Giada know their stuff (even if Giada does have a big head and having dinner with Ina would be about as exciting as watching paint dry).
• That the Food Network decided (via focus groups, polls, or whatever) that America pretty much perceived Bobby Flay to be a supercilious prick, so they decided to satisfy the People of this Great Land by forcing him into lovable submission via having his ass routinely (and ostensibly) kicked by relative amateurs in various podunk towns in the U.S. "Let's face it...do you really think you can beat Bobby Flay in a Chili Cookoff???"
• Food Network's Adam Richman (Man vs. Food) who hoovers down the most disgusting examples of our country's "cuisine" in epic portions (with a timer going, no less) to prove himself worthy of a t-shirt (or immortality in the form of having his photo stapled to a crusty, paneled restaurant wall by sheer virtue of shoving 10,000 calories down his gullet in 20 minutes), is revolting.  But we already knew that.
• Last but not least...he actually has a modicum of respect (okay...more than a modicum of respect) for Andrew Zimmern. We all know he's just a wannabe...but AB admires him because he eats squirming bugs, jiggly brains, fecal laden membranes, etc., sober.  Sorry...I don't think so. Zimmern's  heart never seems to be in it when he's snarfing mealworms and I'm simply not convinced he's doing it for the right reasons (please pardon me for channeling "The Bachelor"). *coughcoattailridercough*

Moving forward, he touched on his travels, food in other cultures, and respect.  What we learned:

• Arguably, the finest food in the world can be found in San Sebastian, Spain.
• When visiting other cultures and dining as a guest, heartily snort whatever dish is proudly presented...even if it's the last (and heavily impacted) 12 inches of a wildebeest's lower intestine. It's a gesture of gratitude and respect.  I wholeheartedly agree with this sentiment...therefore, I think I should steer clear of locales and situations where wildebeest ass is likely to be served.  Far be it from me to create some sort of international incident...I learned my lesson while trying to photograph the pastry case at Laduree in Paris and have the "Ugly American" certificate to prove it.
• If he had to eat one nation's food for the rest of his life, Japanese is the one he'd never tire of.

Wrapping up, he shared his views on U.S. food culture and how pathetic it is (but we already knew that).  Michelle Obama's efforts as far as setting a nutritional example were praised, as were sustainable farming and steering the youngstahs clear of "the Clown, the Crown, and Colonel" at all costs (with various prospective "scare tactics" discussed for accomplishing the latter...funny stuff!). 

The final two segments were really where his passion shone through and it became clear that he is not just a pretty, privileged, aging party boy noshing and drinking his way through life (albiet, he was quick to admit that there is an element of that in him..and isn't that why we love him??), but he is also a culinary, epicurean and nutritional advocate with strong views regarding food and culture.  Did I mention he abhors Olive Garden??  Sigh.  Just when I thought the crush couldn't deepen any further.  <3

About 30 minuteds of audience Q & A followed, which I really enjoyed because it was completely spontaneous.  He was funny, engaging and exactly what you would imagine he would be like unrehearsed...but maybe a tiny bit less arrogant and a lot more compassionate than one might expect.  He was real. 

After the Q&A, the plebes were herded away and the VIP book signing and photo op began.  UD and I were near the end of the verylong line (somehow, I had envisoned myself being in an elite group of around 60...while, in actuality, there were more like 200 VIP ticket holders), but it moved along quickly.  Reps integrated the group with note pads and Sharpies so everyone could write down how they wished to have their respective books personalized when they reached AB's table, where he very graciously chatted and posed for photos with every individual who came through the line with no outward sign of being as tortured as he almost certainly was.  He did have beer, though...and with beer comes tolerance. Proof that he will write pretty much anything you desire can be viewed below (my request was accommodated with only a slight snort and the hint of a rolled eye):

This event was funny, enlightening and a must for anyone who enjoys Bourdain's books and television show...good times!  And look at the tolerance being displayed, in spite of the fact that I was gushing and babbling incoherently like prepubescent fourth-grader. Ugh.

Thank you for the best Valentine's Day present evah, Underdog. I love you!