Well I knew it — S’s pescegan stomach couldn’t handle the meat smorgasbord weekend. I hadn’t eaten in 18 hours in preparation for 5 meals per day this weekend, but apparently I was the only person who took the agenda that S sent out seriously. I arrived to S’s apartment on Saturday promptly at 1pm with his bday present in hand — I was so inspired by K’s meat basket bridesmaid gift to me last October that I decided to copy the idea and make a shit-your-pants meat basket for S’s bday in honor of the breaking of his diet. It didn’t end up being as impressive as K’s basket to me, but I thought I had a nice representation of beef nuggets, jalapeno beef jerky, smoked bacon, chorizo, salami, pate, etc. I also knew S was only breaking his diet for the weekend and that he probably wouldn’t be able to go through the entire meat basket in one weekend, so I had a hunch I would be able to partake in some of the shit-your-pants as well. Luckaaaayyyyyy 😀 S saw right through me.
Meat Basket
Anyway, we were off to a good start on Saturday at Hill Country, which was S’s first pork meal:
Ribs & Brisket
As delicious as the ribs and brisket were, I was trying to pace myself, knowing we were going to Zum Schneider next. We finished off our beers, settled the check, and I was preparing to catch us a cab to go to Little Bosnia when S goes “ehhh let’s go to B&T’s apartment instead.” ??????? When were we going to go to Zum?? I STILL HUNGRY!!! Apparently S’s bowel issues had already started. We ended up never going to Zum and just drinking Four Lokos and having a dance party at B&T’s apartment. I was slightly disappointed but let this one slide since it was S’s birthday and he could really do whatever he wanted. After about 6 hours of drinking at the apartment and listening to Bieber, we were all pretty hungover by the time we went to dinner at Momofuku. Strength in rallying, so I had 3 Old Fashioneds accompanied by 5 courses.
Proscuitto
Pork Belly Buns
Pork Shoulder
It’s very few people who actually pick up the table’s tab for their own birthday. But S picks up the tab pretty much every year for his bday, which is why it’s shocking he even allowed 12 people and significant others to attend. I can guarantee that for my birthday I will most certainly not pick up the tab, and significant others will absolutely not be allowed at my dinner, which is a policy I reinforce year after year. Everyone knows I like my birthdays to be with my 30 closest friends, and my 30 closest friends only. S doesn’t have 30 closest friends, but here’s who was invited to his bday dinner:
You are very special to me. And I don’t mean special in the way L means it (i.e. invite every bi-ped I know and haven’t f’d before). All of you play an important part in my life, except:
a) I actually really dislike two of you but feel obligated to invite you b/c of politics / pity.
b) There’s also two of you that I feel kind of “meh” about but really want to screw your girlfriend / sister and cannot risk blowing that when I’m sooo close.
c) One of you is what I would describe as an A minus friend — while this might sound pretty good, imagine that I grew up with first-generation Asian immigrant parents.
d) A good number of you are here because you possess special skills — like the skill to wake up every morning and be Black or Hispanic or Asian (not a unique skill set here).
e) A few (or a lot) of you got the nod for this list because b) already happened, and I still have a guilty conscience.
f) I absolutely hate one of you, but you’re always on time and can fill G’s seat when he flakes.
g) f) is also someone whom G would love to sleep with, and it will really teach him a lesson when he finds out that he missed dinner with him / her.
h) Generally, I don’t like any of you b/c you’re not from Texas (L, reference c)).
I was c. Anyway, dinner was one of the best bday meals I had been to, and I was sufficiently full, despite the lack of our second meal earlier in the day. We continued the festivities at Ninth Ward, and we didn’t think S was wasted enough from dinner, so we forced him to start a game of two men enter with this:
Bday Shots
Yes, a spurting dick of Bourbon shots. By the time he beat all of us at two men enter, S had taken 8 shots of Bourbon on top of all the drinking we had done starting at 1pm that day, and he was gone. Birthday success.
The next day was not so successful. Obviously the 4am Artichoke pizzas didn’t happen given S blacked out at 1:30am (expected), and neither did the 9am bacon/egg/cheese donut sandwiches given we all woke up at noon (typical). Five Napkins Burger didn’t happen either given none of us could move from S’s couch, but luckily we remembered that we can actually pay people to bring us food instead of us going there, so we decided to just get burgers delivered over old episodes of South Park. By 2pm I knew Kati Roll wasn’t going to happen, but F and I were still hopeful for Porterhouse at Wolfgang’s at 7:30pm. We all went home at 3:30pm, took a 4 hour nap, then woke up promptly at 7:30pm for steak time. Unfortunately S’s abdominals and butthole were in too much pain from all the unexpected overload of meat (that’s what she said), so Wolfgang’s didn’t happen either. Sigh. FAIL!!!!!!!!!!! I’m not going to lie, I was disappointed in S’s inability to handle all the meat he had promised himself, but I really can’t complain about Hill Country, Momofuku and the amount of alcohol that was consumed this weekend. The next meat challenge weekend will occur for my birthday in a month. Friends, get ready.
Poverexic in NYC 