foodsmug lifesmug recaps

KERF Recaps: Reboot Edition, Post 390

On Tuesday, Kathy writes about taking Bath Matt to the So Fucking Proud Of Itself For Existing “Supper” Club

on a date night. These kind of events are right up our alley….er, garage!

OH. Because the dinner takes place in a tiny garage. That’s so adorable. What else is up your, uh, garage? Taking pictures of each other while you’re walking to dinner, and being totally, grinningly okay with that making you late?

Congratulations on not wearing 100% beer- and bread-related graphic merch, Bath Matt. You buckled a belt and buttoned a shirt. Here’s a medal.

Bath Matt’s mom Karen babysat Toddler Carbz, and Kathy is quick to let everyone know that Karen actually went to one of the garage dinners and had a ton of fun, just in case anyone thinks her son and daughter-in-law are chaining her in the basement.

While she was at home commiserating with the country’s only non-potty-trained ASE-certified technician, her son was scrambling around to take this photo of his wife, lounging at the head of a table in a garage, flanked by station wagons in a church parking lot.

One-Room Foolhouse

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves! Kathy and Bath Matt were still huffing and puffing and homphing and gomphing their way to said parking lot garage, and trying to take selfies of themselves the whole way:

We arrived to find Chef Bryan sharing the concept of Evenings surrounded by cocktails and canapés.

Translation: They were fucking late. Their “hot walk” and photo session got them there late, and Kathy thought it would be cool to interrupt the presentation so she could take a photo for her Kath Consumes Free Things blog.

The signature cocktail must have been a lemonadey gin drink because it went down so easily after the hot walk there! Thirst. Quenched.

Translation: They threw their drinks down their throat in 2.6 seconds and who the hell cares what was actually in it? It’s not like they were actually going to ask anyone. That would require some kind of mortifying conversation wherein they explained that they were late because they were stopping on the sidewalk to take grinning, stare-into-the-lens photos of each other.

Kathy starts describing the food, and seriously half of her copy comes from the photo of the menu itself, except she makes it worse by changing “pecans” to “pecan bites”

Loved those!

describing the soup as “deconstructed” and summarizing that she

Loved this tableside concept!

saying, of the entrée, that she

loved the fried chicken piece – so much flavor! I also love that Chef Bryan always does two styles of one main course (last time it was pork).

She also pipes up to use her new favorite word, “deconstructed,” on the cheesecake:

The dessert course was, of course, my favorite …. Chef Bryan cooked the cheesecake sous vide and then piped it onto our plates. I loved the presentation!

The more love Kathy professes to have in her heart, the less I believe her.

“I love you, Brad. Brad the bartender. You want to love me back? I’ll be good to you.”

The only other commentary she adds that wasn’t cribbed from the menu is to call the event

BOYB [sic], and we brought a bottle to share from Virginia’s San Soucy Vineyards from this trip! {<— ahhhh Mazen was so little!}

and to say there were candles and glass that had color:

Love!

What is that woman with the camera DOING? Isn’t she the one who walked in LATE?

and to actually describe University of Virginia/Aramark Chef Bryan’s cooking space as

such a limited kitchen in the back – a far cry from a modern industrial kitchen!

Thanks Kathy. I’ll be thinking about that while I’m at work tomorrow, at my job that requires me to go to a place and do things other people need.

Anyway, the “surprise” last course she expected provided her with three more kinds of cookies and pink, peach-flavored “moonshine.”

Whatever those round sugar things are called, the ones on the left look like they’re melting, the ones in the middle are dropping crumbs and are about to fall uncookedly off the stupid slate canape board, and the ones on the right are misshapen and appear to have been hastily broken out of the freezer like year-old bags of ice. High on their sugar content, Kathy concludes by calling the dinner that she was late to “so special,” describing the food whose only description came from the menu as “exceptional,” and lazily signing off with a comma-spliced beg for free invitations.

We had such a great time, I am excited for when the dinners resume in the fall!

Jeez, Kathy. If you want a free meal that bad, drive over to the soup kitchen and grab a sandwich or four.

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