Stories

My name is Farleys D Destino Del Lago, but friends call me Charlie.

Being a puppy of a certain age has been challenging. There is this “potty outside” thing that is constantly being hammered into my being - not to mention sit, stay, off, no bark, and hearing my name, “Charlie” said as though I was in really deep trouble…(something about humping… ?)  I guess you all know the drill.

But, tonight the education came to fruition; I went to my first restaurant where I finally got it.  And, I had a date with a little cutie named Lucy, not to mention Comely Sonja - the hostess that greeted us. Wow.  She made me feel most welcome among all the ‘beautiful’ people.  Did I say we dined en plein air (Hey I am a poodle puppy…  French Poodle puppy)

Apparently, this was no everyday kinda place - this was Daniel Boulud’s famous Café Boulud at the Brazilian Court in Palm Beach and they love, LOVE dogs!  Chef Jim Leiken (who came down from New York’s Daniel) has created a dog friendly cuisine with such items as, for example, an 8oz prime beef patty (they hold the bun and onion) and little lemon Madeleine Cookies with just a hint of yummy powdered sugar).

In college, I discovered falafels.  I happen to be a lover of most things fried (unfortunately for me) and eating a falafel with tons of veggies and avocado makes devouring them a bit more acceptable. I was reading one of my favorite books; Dave Lieberman’s  the 10 things you need to eat, and I found his falafel recipe made with quinoa.

Dave taught me a thing or two about quinoa. Most recipes that I have read or even made suggests a 2 to 1 ratio when making most grains. However, up until acquiring Dave’s book, I was no good at making quinoa and basically, gave up. He has changed all of that. His tip: use 1 1/4 cups water to 1 cup quinoa. Genius!

I like to make a big batch of quinoa and keep it in the fridge. It lasts for about a week and it is a good, healthy option to have on hand. Not only do I make these amazing falafel balls, but I also love to make quinoa cakes (similar to a veggie patty) and quinoa breakfast cereal.

It came to me in a Saturday morning Skype. My four-year-old nephew looked into the computer and asked what I had for bweckfist. I said I ate breakfast in the form of a second dinner the night before. His parents laughed. Though that late night enchilada plate from our local Burrito King wasn’t all giggles.

I wouldn’t be hungry until lunch. A pattern was threatening to form. Two nights prior it had been pancakes and bacon from the Burrito King hours after a sushi dinner. Family faces stared at me in the video window for elaboration. I heard myself inventing then blaming it on Post Cleanse Disorder (PCD).

My sister and brother-in-law did the Master Cleanse a month before we did. Leo laughed, feigning pain, “I know what you mean, man.”

Our stomach’s egos were out of check; too prone to temptation. I should also mention I had an accomplice in the Burrito King missions: our buddy H-berg, who claims he can take at least twice as much as me when it comes to things of an intoxicating persuasion, but whom I impressed early in our friendship by demonstrating I could eat at least as much as him. I haven’t revisited the Burrito King for solo midnight pancakes and bacon. These things taste much better in good company.

The drinks menu is easy—anything from scotch on the rocks to wine to martinis to Mint Juleps. And we know what brand mad men and women smoke, at least for now—Lucky Strike. But what do mad men and women eat? When they dine out in season four, it’s Chicken Kiev. And when they’re staying in—well, it’s easy to see why they don’t eat in very often.

In the first episode of the new season, Dan’s housekeeper told him that she had made pork chops—surely enough to drive a man not only to drink but to thoughts of an earlier season, when Betty, jumping up from the table to fetch his dinner, perkily asked, “Hot or cold”? Did we ever see Betty eat, even when she was pregnant? Most evenings she was brooding at the kitchen table, nursing a glass of wine. As little Bobby says, “Mommy doesn’t eat.” I can recall only two noteworthy exceptions: the vision of Betty—in the same episode as Bobby’s observation—devouring a chicken leg after her one-night stand with a stranger and her tryst in a sweet shop over a dish of ice cream with future- second-husband and Freudian-father-figure Henry Francis.