Depressingly Authentic

Alert to all fans: It's a Jimmy FOOD POSTING.

Going out to lunch today, I had a feeling for something new. There's an indian place near where I work that has garnered very good reviews for it's authenticity. My own favorite Indian place is somewhat scoffed at by afficianados as "good, but not Indian". So I went to this place. And it was packed with real live east indians... and it was a bigger buffet that my favorite place, so I'm thinking "hey now, this is SOMETHING".

Except the meat.. it was a bit fatty. And more dark meat, and skin on. And the sauces were more savory than spicy. And one of the trays contained "Goat Curry". So I politely loaded my plate, once, ate the food and hightailed it out of there. The words "Depressingly Authentic" entered my mind as I walked out. I'll stick with my Fake Indian, alas.

On a more authentic note, I met Uncle Chicken for lunch yesterday at what appears to be the current "best Pho Joint in Town" - Pho Tau Bay. Pho, as I know you know, is a Vietnamese beef noodle soup. Pho Tai has sliced beef, cellophane noodles, onions in broth, with a side plate of Bean sprouts, basil leaves, lime wedges, and peppers. There are other variants with tripe, flank, meatballs, and god knows whatelse, but I stick with Tai, since it's pretty lean meat.

And it was wonderful, and it was great to see the Chicken in daylight. And it was the best Pho in town to my knowledge. After 9 months of being at my current client, I finally broke down and asked the Hmong workers where to get some Pho, and they pointed me there, as well as to a few less excellent but closer to work places.

Finally, I should add that I stopped in for some coffee on the way from Lunch today. The Caribou corporate headquarters is one freeway exit from my work exit, so I popped over: It's a big factory building, with a store popped right in front of it. I went in and sat down with a cuppa. Sitting by me were two "Management Trainees" who were killing a few minutes before going back into class for a final test.

Listening to the conversation was just surreal - one woman was free associating about her brother stealing her socks, and her remedial high school where this teacher from "Manhattan" was yelling at ESL students. She just sounded Cray-Zay. But the key was that both women were confessing their difficulty in understanding these coffee terms - "I can't tell French Roast from French Press". Neither were coffee drinkers.

I was just imagining back when I was managing a Dunn Bros coffee in the early 1990s. At that time, you hired people who were hanging out enough to become fixtures in the store - it was sort of an upgrade from customer to server. And the leader of the store, Ed Dunn, was a true coffee evangelist. "There is no such thing as a large cappuccino - it's a double shot of espresso with light foam - that's IT - HOW CAN YOU MAKE THAT LARGE????". He would have his friends come in and try the coffee and quiz you, and you needed to KNOW your coffee. He instilled in me a snobbery and discernment that I hold to this day.

I am trying to think of him having to interact with these two management trainees, watching him get redder and redder, until he would abruptly stand up and declare "Thanks for coming in - we're done here".

Of course back then, there weren't as many coffee shops, and you could afford to hold out for and cultivate mavens. With shops on every corner, you need to take what you can get, and try to train them up I guess. Crazy.