Blogging efforts: coming and going....

[captainsblog]

....and always too soon?

A shhhh-it's-a-secret project has been working its way out of the bag these past few days, and I think it's time to begin plugging it.  As I've mentioned, one of the best beloved of bloggers among Mets fans died, suddenly and unexpectedly, at the end of May. On July 16, I will be joining many of that blue pinstripe in honoring his memory in the hours before a Mets game.  Somewhere in reading the recollections of his many friends and colleagues, I came upon the idea of collecting those remembrances, adding some thoughts and some effort of my own, and turning it into a Real Book that his family and other loved ones could turn to tangibly in the years ahead.

As of 1:06 this afternoon, more than 90 percent of that book exists.  A just-written foreword from one of Dana's best friends in the 'verse, sixteen tributes of many lengths and perspectives, posted on a variety of blogging sites (including mine, just put up on my own), and a cover photo of the man taken by another of his fellow writers and displayed on the Citi Field scoreboard in his memory not long after his passing.   The simply fabulous firynze is contributing infinite knowledge and effort to the task, and every single author asked to participate has been gracious and encouraging of the project.  I will be posting more details about the end products of this once we take it through quite a few more hoops.

It is so nice to be surrounded by people who not only treat you like family, but in a very real way are family.

----

As opposed, say, to a certain tacky restaurant chain for whom that sentiment is merely a slogan.

Eleanor has been developing a food-and-recipe centered website on Tumblr, which I'll begin syndicating over here for her when she's ready for that. There are several others in the community that have trod on similar trails, a few more geared to restaurant reviews, but as of this morning, there's one fewer of those, and the reasons for it are kind of sad:

In a nutshell, Buffalo Chow went grudgingly with friends to the new Olive Garden on Transit, and decided that they’d review it, and in so doing order all the cocktails on the drink menu. They did – only a couple of the drinks were any good. The food they ordered, complete with clumsy un-Italian names, was “good” in direct proportion to how drunk one was. The cost – outlandish. Then, the aha moment:

    The three people who had wanted to come didn’t enjoy their meals. But I did. And we’d waited way past our reservation, paid a ridiculous price for it all, and no one was really, truly thrilled.

    I went to write it up for Buffalo Chow, and realized something. No one would care. This restaurant, as much as it represented just about everything bad in dining today, was packed to enviable levels.

    My review wasn’t going to change that. Three out of the four people who had just eaten there would, despite their meals, come back again. And even I, the person who disliked the place the most, had found a way to make the most of the experience. The food sucked, but… so what?

    And that’s how Buffalo Chow ends. In this town, restaurant reviews are barely about the food any more. They’re about the people and stories. The photos in the Buffalo News are barely about the food – they’re people sitting around chowing down on stuff that doesn’t even look good.

I've noticed this before- that on just about any given evening, we can walk into any make or manner of genuine Italian places, whether in North Buffalo or up on Millersport, and find good food and better service at decent prices- but the OG lobby is chockablock full of beeper-toting cranky diners who will sit, and wait, and wait and sit some more for the same pseudo-Tuscan crap they can get in Arizona or Arkansas or the staggeringly popular outlet in midtown Manhattan.  Why, people, why?

Eleanor, fortunately, is not discouraged. Her new effort is geared more to the cooking and presenting than the out-eating aspects of food, and she's been encouraged by the number of her own customers, and friends from elsewhere, who've shared her passion for the good and real and right things coming out of a kitchen. Still, it's sad to realize how many of our fellow Buffalonians are so easily bamboozled by a slab of pre-processed microwaved breadsticks.

Comments

[bill_sheehan.livejournal.com]

Never been to an Olive Garden. It's like coals to Newcastle around here. The Irish and Italians are the predominant nationalities around here, and only one of those groups are noted for their cuisine.

Your memoir sounds like a wonderful, thoughtful idea.

[captainsblog.livejournal.com]

I presume you refer to the culinary genius behind "Who Put the Overalls in Mrs. Murphy's Chowder" (or, on a trippier day, Who Put the Mescaline in Mrs. Murphy's Ovaltine). I've no idea why our native population is dumb enough to fall for these chains.

(And thank you for the kind words.)

[firynze.livejournal.com]

People like familiar, unchallenging food in big portions. Olive Garden and its ilk offers it in spades. QED.

[nentikobe.livejournal.com]

That's one thing I really enjoy about lil ol' Tassie. Almost no chains save the ubiquitous McDonald's. (which actually tastes good, because I think it uses real food!) The Indian place is all by itself, there's dominos and pizza hut, but the best pizza is in a hole in the wall place that doesn't take anything but cash... and it's always, always packed.

Why go for boring when you can have exceptional?