Alternate title: Things Which I Have Done Lately For Which I Am Receiving A Baffling Amount Of Attention

Thing The First: Written an article about Anvil Bar & Refuge’s 100 List — a list of 100 cocktails everyone should try at least once — that landed on the front page of and received more pageviews than the infamous pizza vending machine post here at she eats., as well as garnering an impressive 55 mostly angry comments at the Press and 77 comments over at FARK.

Thing The Second: Written an article about a bourbon and bacon cocktail at a recent Manhattan contest that I judged, which also hit the front page of FARK and made me briefly consider why I am always chosen for the booze assignments before deciding that I should stop silently complaining to myself. Comment of which I am particularly proud:

The author kept referring to bourbon as an American whiskey. It is a Kentucky whiskey. Period. They don’t make bourbon in Tenn. or Candada or Ireland or Scotland…it’s made in Kentucky with at least 51% corn and pure limestone water. I should know, the Bourbon Trail is twenty miles away.


(Sorry. You know it’s bad when you start begrudging your commenters…)

Thing The Third: You know…it’s just another FARK thing…and it’s not even about food…and it’s frankly inappropriate for younger and/or delicate audiences, so maybe I’ll just let some intrepid reader do some digging and find it.

Thing The Fourth: Quit Twitter. I didn’t realize this was going to be such a big deal until all the comments and emails and DMs and Facebook messages started pouring in. And then the Houston Chronicle picked it up. Seriously…I listen to Kyrie O’Connor all the time when she’s on Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me on NPR on Saturday mornings. And now she’s writing about me?


I really do appreciate all the kind words. It’s very nice knowing that my random, snarky, occasionally TMI Tweets brighten peoples’ days. And I say that with no sarcasm intended. But…when it’s even extremely minor news that someone — like myself or like a celebrity (Miz Miley Cyrus) — stops Tweeting, doesn’t that just underscore and reinforce the points I made yesterday?

Moonshine in the Afternoon

Martini with ruby red grapefruit juice and champagne at Moonshine
Ruby Slipper Martini with ruby red grapefruit juice and champagne at Moonshine

I’ve made a few recent weekend trips to Austin — for work both times — but managed to have a little fun on the side while I was there. This most recent trip to the Hill Country was for the Austin City Limits Music Festival (ACL) and just to answer any questions you may have, let me just say this: I saw exactly one band over the course of three days, subsisted on nacho cheese Doritos and Red Bull in the media area and worked for a good portion of the weekend with my laptop in a clear plastic garbage bag to protect it from the torrential rain.

The highlight of that particular weekend was getting fresh carnitas tacos (with pickled habanero peppers!) and elotes slathered with mayonnaise and parmesan cheese delivered to the tent courtesy of an Austin taco restaurant whose name I shamefully can’t remember (I think I was distracted by fighting for the last plug on the lone power strip so my laptop didn’t die). And after the last band played on Sunday night, Groovehouse and I packed our gear, hiked out of Zilker Park and back to our car, where we promptly deposited a heavy load of cameras, lenses, batteries, docking stations, laptops, iPhones, power chargers and all manner of 21st century detritus before walking to Shady Grove for a late dinner.

It was far from the best meal I’ve ever had, but we both dove headfirst into our veggie burgers and salads, clinging desperately to the promise of roughage cleaning out our systems from the trash we’d shoved into it all weekend. I reflected later on the poor quality of my Thai noodle salad and how eagerly I devoured it, thinking that I should never, ever, ever review food when famished.

The trip to Austin before the three-day endurance sport that was ACL was decidedly more relaxed, however. I was in town at the request of Robb Walsh, serving as a preliminary judge for the 19th annual Austin Hot Sauce Festival. I chronicled my misadventures on Sunday in a recent post on the Houston Press, if you care to read about how sick I got somewhere around sampling my 200th salsa. The highlight of that trip was a meal at Moonshine, the pictures from which are below.

And they still look pretty damn delicious, if I do say so myself.

Continue reading Moonshine in the Afternoon

Two Months

I brought you a slice of red velvet cake as a peace offering...
I brought you a slice of red velvet cake as a peace offering...

It’s been over two months since I posted here. A lot can happen in two months.

In two months, you can find yourself living in a completely different part of the city, in a rambling old house from the 1920s, devoid of husband or dogs or cat. In two months, you can ultimately find happiness and some measure of comfort in something incredibly painful. In two months, you can turn a hobby in to a more-than-full-time job and find yourself resenting what you used to love. In two months, you can reinvent yourself.

Over the past two months, I’ve been heavily active on Twitter. Who hasn’t…? But I’ve found myself increasingly disillusioned not only with the ephemeral nature of Twitter — the fleeting attention spans, the condensed and often thoughtless coughing up of little blood spatters of information or thoughts or ideas — but with the inelegance of Twitter itself. Twitter is a spasm, a knee jerk, a poorly played game of Telephone.

That’s not to say it’s all terrible. Twitter can be useful. And entertaining. And engaging (perhaps too much at times). But I don’t like what it’s done to me or the people around me. We’ve found ourselves endlessly checking our Twitter apps on our iPhones at dinner, ignoring conversations with others to scroll through the timeline, thinking of TwitPic’ing something the instant we see it or instantly relaying inane, overheard discussions as OH’s. There is no time to process — only to Tweet. We’ve found ourselves alternately obsessed with ourselves and with people we don’t even know, ignoring our real lives in the process. There is no time to live — only to navelgaze.

I’m guilty of all of this. And I don’t want to be that person anymore. Of course, I can’t get off of Twitter entirely. It’s a large part of my job to be plugged into Twitter at all times as the @HoustonPress. But I’m more or less abandoning @she_eats for now. It’s become too much to keep up with and the intensely private person that I am (truly, although no one really seems to believe this) is exhausted and frightened by people thinking they know me just because they follow me on Twitter. We are more than our Twitter profiles, people.

So for those reasons and many others, it’s back to blogging for me. Equally narcissistic? Perhaps. But that’s not why I got into this game in the first place. I love it here — the words flowing from my fingers to the keys to the peaceful white void of the screen with no 140 character limits or constant need to entertain or be entertained. I feel comfortable here. There is more even footing here. There is more space to explain, to engage, to be useful — all the things that I initially thought Twitter would be better for — but with far more thought and effort put into it.

So with that… I’m off Twitter. And back here (and always at the Press, of course). Hope to see you around…