It’s been three weeks since I’ve been back in NYC, and nearly three months since my last post. Somehow I found myself unable to blog while out in SF, probably because I was high on bottomless mimosas half the time and catching up on illegally downloaded episodes of “Game of Thrones” the other half. All I can say is, it’s taken the entire past three weeks to fully recover from the send-off my friends gave me my last weekend there. Here’s what happened:
Knowing my love for meat (as all my friends do), K&D had planned a surprise farewell dinner for me on my last Friday in SF at House of Prime Rib, a magical place where every girl’s dream comes true…
My dream come true
Jk. Not that dream. I mean getting stuffed with an immense amount of meat, which is what happens at House of Prime Rib — basically they give you a huge cut of meat, so big that if you finish it, they give you a second cut for free. Sounds like my ideal Saturday night in the Marina. Enough rape talk.
Here is what welcomed me immediately upon my arrival:
Martinis… with the shaker!
A really solid dirty martini, and they even give you the shaker. Before I even finished it, here’s what came next:
Man with Meat
And then the King Henry VIII Cut with creamed spinach, mashed potatoes and Yorkshire pudding:
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Obviously I cleaned my plate, so here was my second cut — thinner/smaller, but still good (that’s a first):
Second Cut
It was incred. Not to mention Ryan Scott from Top Chef was sitting to the right of us, and Desmond Bryant who went to college with me and now plays for the Oakland Raiders was sitting to the left of us. Surrounded by D-list celebs. K&D really hold the record for the best gifts I’ve ever received in my life, between this double-steak dinner and the meat basket she got me 2 years ago as my maid of honor gift. They really get me.
Before I knew it, I had been so absorbed in the all-you-can-eat that I had completely forgotten about all the drinks that had been piling up around me:
Drinks
After downing those in 5 minutes in an effort to catch up with everyone else at the table, we headed out to some place on Polk, I have no idea where considering the martinis, wine and Irish coffee had finally started to catch up with me, but all I know is this place had the most amazing lemon drop martinis. Apparently on this blackout night I was drinking the gayest drinks on the face of the planet, given the lemon drops and the fact I was apparently taking shots of Washington apple all night long. Probably because we were out with K&D’s new friend K, who was this huge 6’6″ black dude who looks like he either a) plays for the NBA or b) is going to kill you, but then the minute he opens his mouth you realize he is the happiest, champagne-loving, Castro-living gay guy you’ll ever meet in your life. We instantly bonded over our hatred for SF cab drivers. After a few rounds of the fruitiest drinks, I literally had the most disgusting mixture of vices in my stomach — the thickest slab of meat, dirty martinis, wine, Irish coffee, lemon drops, and Washington apple shots. Minutes later, I blacked out in a bar chair.
That was just the beginning of my send-off.
The next night was supposed to be a “low key night” at G&E’s place with a nice homemade dinner and some loaded questions. Of course with this group, a “few glasses of wine” turns into a few bottles of wine turns into 16 bottles of wine between 7 people. Not sure how this keeps happening. Before we knew it, every loaded question was being answered either with something having to do with merkins, hot links or unicorns.
Then the next day was Memorial Day Sunday, and K&D were taking me wine tasting in Sonoma/Healdsburg. This was my first time wine tasting in my entire life (surprising), and apparently I went out a little too zealously. Having eaten this and only this…
Cheese and crackers
… for lunch, K&D and I set out to about a dozen wineries on our first day, from Twomey to Dry Creek to Francis Ford Coppola and more. I was going heavy on the heavy reds, and like any respectable lady, I wasn’t spitting any of it. Next thing I knew, after a full day of tastings, I found myself back at our hotel with my head in the toilet hurling out a toilet bowl full of all the red wine I had consumed that day, then immediately passed out.
When I awoke two hours later for dinner, I was feeling pretty ok. In fact, I was feeling great. I was shocked as to how not-hungover I was. I was recounting the day with K&D, commenting on how that last winery, Coppola, really pushed me over the edge with that friendly bartender who just kept pouring and pouring and pouring, when K’s like- that wasn’t the last winery; we went to two other wineries after that. Say whah? Fuck. I must have been more blackout than I thought. Concerned that my usual blackout behaviors had come out, including spitting, slapping and flashing, K&D reassured me that I was actually incredibly composed and was sipping (not spitting) wine at the other wineries like a normal human. This was fascinating news to me, and I had this eureka moment that on wine, I am a very refined blackout vs. I am not so much on scotch. I made a mental note that day to drink wine at weddings moving forward rather than scotch, and I should be totally fine.
Three minutes later I found out we were going for Mexican for dinner that night, and the word “tequila” made me throw up a little in my mouth and swallow it back down. I was fine, and I felt a million times better after I saw all the amazing-looking food at the restaurant:
Mateo’s
I managed to eat a healthy portion of the food, and it surprisingly calmed my stomach a lot. Ten minutes later we were at Spoonbar next door, and I realized I was terribly wrong and found myself rushing to the bathroom to puke up all those tacos and ceviche after one sip of this:
Drink 1
At least it only came out one end this time. I instantly felt better after that and got back to finishing my first drink, then proceeded to go down their incredible cocktail list:
Drink 2
Drink 3
Monday was a little calmer with us hitting up only about half the number of wineries before heading back to SF, where I ended the weekend with a literal bang. It was an amazing way to end my time in SF. Despite the lack of good, cheap delivery options in SF, I loved everything else about the city… but most especially Sunday Fundays with K&D.
SF: Thank you for the wonderful memories. I miss you terribly.
Poverexic in NYC 