Twitter: Tastes Like Chicken

If you’re a hopelessly addicted Twitter-er, I’ve got good news for you! Now you can follow she eats. (along with everything else) on Twitter:

Eat Me!

If you don’t have a Twitter account, you really should sign up. It’s delicious, I promise.

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Fertitta Free…

…to do some cooking of his own, and I ain’t talkin’ chicken nuggets.

Fertitta gets financing, will take Landry’s private

Tilman Fertitta has reached an agreement with Landry’s Restaurants to take the company private. He is offering about $415 million.

The total value of the offer is about $1.3 billion, including $885 million in debt.

Under the agreement, Fertitta would pay $21 a share, which is 37 percent more than Landry’s closing price on April 3, the last trading day before Fertitta revised his original offer. The offer is about 25 percent higher than Friday’s closing price of $16.79 for Landry’s shares.

Well, it was only a matter of time really.

The Weekend In Food

Friday

8:00 pm:  Friends over to house for pre-high-school-reunion festivities.  Fingery-type food, including beautiful lump of Pure Luck goat cheese. prompts one friend to say, “Now this is the kind of spread we expect from someone who writes about food!”

9:00 pm:  Yearbooks, complete with six-inch layer of dust, brought out and laughed at.

10:00 pm:  Food completely gone; one bottle of wine remains.

11:00 pm:  Reluctantly end evening in anticipation of tomorrow’s long day of events.

Saturday

7:00 am:  Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.  What was I thinking?  Do I really want to cut off all my hair?

9:00 am:  At salon, preparing to face the scissors.  Have sent Richard to Starbucks with coffee order (grande bold WITH TWO SHOTS OF JACK DANIELS for sake of courage).  Disappointed when he returns with only plain coffee.

10:30 am:  I have short hair!  Madre de dios!  It is so short!!!  Ten inches gone!  Aieeeeeeee!

11:00 am:  Need food to calm stomach.

11:30 am:  Mmm.  Jarro’s Tacos, I love you.  Two cochinita pibil tacos and two pastor tacos, with extra cilantro and onions and extra salsa neon and a super huge glass of maracuya.  You will cure all that is wrong with the world…

11:45 am:  Richard is sweating profusely after bite of salsa neon.  Our definitions of “mild” are wildly divergent, it would appear.

12:00 pm:  Tacos in belly, feeling much better about short haircut (which is really cute!) and impending doom of high school reunion.

3:00 pm: Nervously munching on homemade kettle corn, courtesy of Midwife Crisis, and trying to decide what to wear.  Bought a dress earlier this week, but now: haaaaaaate.

5:30 pm:  So many text messages!  Phone is overheating!  Yes, yes, we’re still meeting at 6pm!  Yes, we’re still meeting at La Carafe!  Yes, they have beer!  Of course they have beer!  Yes, you can have a ride!  Yes, those pants will be fine!  Yes, you’re right, Don Patron is the weirdest spot I’ve ever heard of, too!  Yes, I hope that Alyson Smith has gained a lot of weight, too!

6:30 pm:  At La Carafe, with enormous table of high school friends from all corners of the earth and enough Shiner Blacks to slake the thirst of 10,000 Irishmen.  Life is good.

8:00 pm:  Reunion is starting.  Should we head over?

8:01 pm:  Nah.

8:30 pm:  Reunion has started by now.  Should we head over?

8:31pm:  Nah.

9:00 pm:  We should probably go to the reunion.

9:30 pm:  Seriously.

9:45 pm:  Walk to reunion long and painful (for Houston).  Inside A/C again, but where are we?  Is this Allen Center?  What is this Don Patron Bar & Grill place anyway?  What a weird f***ing place for a reunion…

10:00 pm:  Every.  One.  Is.  Here.  Impressive turnout.  Food and drinks?  Decidedly UNimpressive.

10:10 pm:  What do you mean, a beer is $6?  I paid $55 for these stupid reunion tickets and it’s a cash bar?  What do you mean, cokes are $2.50?  Is that a margarita?  It’s $7?  THAT’S A DIXIE CUP, MAN.  A DIXIE CUP.  THAT IS NOT A MARGARITA.

10:30 pm:  So…this is the food.  I thought we were at a Mexican restaurant…  Why are there eggrolls and chicken wings on the buffet?  Why are we having a buffet???  Are those plates made out of PLASTIC?  And the utensils are plastic, too?  HOLY HELL, PEOPLE.  DID YOU EVEN TRY?

10:45 pm:  Ha!  Alyson Smith totally got fat!

11:00 pm:  So…are we going to have some music or something?  Or some announcements?  Or are we all just going to stand around ignoring each other like we did in high school, except with Dixie Cup-sized margaritas and $6 Miller Lites and seriously questionable food?

11:01 pm:  Yes; yes, we are.

11:30 pm:  The food appears to be making people sick.

11:45 pm:  Let’s all cram onto the tiny patio of the tiny restaurant and try to get some air.  Feeling refreshed?  No.

12:30 am:  We should probably head home.  I think Jess is going to vomit.

12:45 am:  Driving home.  Don Patron sucked ass.  I mean, reeeeeallllllly sucked ass.  But seeing everyone — fat, snotty or otherwise — was wicked awesome.  Can’t wait to see pictures!

1:30 am:  Finally home.

Sunday

7:00 am:  Bleurgh?

10:00 am:  Bleurgh.

3:00 pm:  Heading over to folks’ house for Father’s Day barbeque.  Stomach still feeling a bit shady from “Mexican” food last night.

4:00 pm:  Barbeque delicious, especially baked beans and tater salad. 

4:15 pm:  But…feeling awful again.

5:30 pm:  Back to bed.

8:45 pm:  Bleurgh?

11:45 pm:  Back to bed, again.  Sunday officially ruined by bastards at Don Patron.  Still can’t wait to see pictures, though.