Mmmm … steak!

In a recent episode of Top Chef, the contestants were asked to cook what the guest celebrity chefs would request as their last meal. Of course, being chefs, most of their selections were things I’ve barely heard of. I grew up in Manhattan. What the hell is a squab? And since my cooking “expertise” is limited to the microwave and the George Foreman Grill, I’ve never heard of most of the seasonings and spices used on the show.

My girlfriend asked me what my last meal would be and, without hesitation, my reply was one word: STEAK.

steak

I’ve been fortunate enough to share many fantastic meals with her. Her birthday dinner at Auberge du Soleil in Napa Valley last year was incredible beyond description. And just last weekend, Valentine’s Day dinner at Atlantic Fish in Boston left both of our tummies very happy. We both love sushi. Even less upscale places like our favorite restaurant on Long Beach Island, the Black Whale, always measure up well.

But nothing gives me the same satisfaction as a nice, thick, juicy steak.

Whether it’s from established landmarks like Peter Luger’s, Sparks, Uncle Jack’s or Ruth’s Chris (last night’s birthday dinner — thank you!), or from inexpensive alternatives like Steve’s Sizzling Steaks, Arthur’s or even Outback (and NO, I am NOT comparing the second list to the first, just saying I love both and they both have their respective places), steak rocks my world.

In the words of the great Homer J. Simpson, “Mmmm … STEAK!”

Unemployment Nine: Another craigslist gem

Two days removed from this winner of a craigslist job posting, I found yet another fountain of information (unedited):

JOB OFFER GOOD PAY (USA)

This is an offer for a very well paid part time job. You do not need any kind of experience, you just need to follow some step by step instructions. We welcome candidates from all over the US to apply for this job.

Does this strike anyone else as someone looking for a mole to move narcotics from place to place?

God help anyone who answers this ad. I’m desperate but not that desperate.

Unemployment Nine: Play ball!

Anyone who follows this blog knows I’ve been deadly serious about my job search since getting laid off Oct. 2. But every once in a while, in the interest of maintaining a baseline level of sanity, I’ve treated myself to a break here and there.

Boston Beer Works Espresso Stout

Well, unless something happens between now and Thursday — “something” being a job interview — it’s time for another break.

Thursday at 1 p.m., YES Network will air its first spring-training game of the 2009 season, with the American League champion Tampa Bay Rays — I never thought I’d be able to type that with a straight face — coming to Steinbrenner Field in Tampa to play the New York Yankees.

So just before 1 p.m., the following steps will occur:

• This much-overworked PC will be turned off.

Panasonic Viera

• The 64-ounce growler of Boston Beer Works Espresso Stout will be opened and enjoyed liberally, one pint at a time.

• My roommate’s plasma TV will be powered up.

• My ass (and the rest of my carcass) will retire to my recliner.

• I will proceed to watch nine innings of (hopefully) uninterrupted Grapefruit League baseball and enjoy every single pitch and sip.

I’m never home for these preseason games, so I might as well take advantage of the sad fact that nobody has shown any interest in hiring me and enjoy the game.

Play ball!

Steinbrenner Field

Unemployment Nine: Information overload

I just found by far the most useless job listing in my four-plus months of unemployment.

Moron

This is the entire listing, from craigslist. I left out the e-mail address to protect the guilty, but I seriously should include it so everyone can tell this guy what a dumb ass he is. I also didn’t edit it, so any typos belong to the genius who posted it, and not to yours truly.

Job Offer (New York)

I have a job offer available for you and it pay good money at the end of the month.If you are interested in knowing more about the position.Contact email below.

Gee, thank you for the wealth of information. And I’m more interested than ever now that “it pay good money.” Hell, I don’t care what the job duties are! Sign me up!

Moron.

Slice of Shea?

From what I’ve been told, Shea Stadium (http://9nine9.wordpress.com/2009/01/31/there-used-to-be-a-ballpark/) is now completely gone. This picture was too bizarre to not post, however.

Last remaining section of Shea Stadium

Unemployment Nine: Reaching the boiling point

My frustration level is at its highest point since being laid off Oct. 2 and rising by the minute.

Head about to explode

I’m starting to wonder if an e-mailed résumé or cover letter could possibly pose the threat of anthrax. Since 2009 started, I’ve probably sent out about 70 résumés and have yet to get a single response — zero e-mails, zero phone calls. I have never experienced a streak like this.

I’m not bombarding the Internet with résumés: I’m only applying for jobs with requirements that I can match. If the requirements include experience or degrees I don’t possess, I don’t bother applying. So why am I going through this run of futility?

The last time I shaved was on New Year’s Eve. My running joke has been that I’m growing a protest beard until my next interview. The protest beard may go by the wayside very soon, as I’m really starting to resemble Grizzly Adams.

Grizzly Adams

I’m not claiming to be the perfect being, but I don’t understand how I can go this long without a single response. This sucks.

With more and more people getting laid off every day, a friend of mine organized a lunch for the unemployed of Hoboken today, and it was great to get out of the house, get some food from my favorite Chinese restaurant in town (Precious) and converse with living beings that don’t have four paws and fur (no offense, Trouble and 8-Ball).

I only knew one of the six other people there, but I was impressed with how bright and talented everyone seemed to be. Unlike some of the dolts I encountered at the mandatory career-counseling session I attended in November, everyone at the table — myself included, I hope — really seemed to have their act together. I don’t know if it helps that a lot of intelligent people are sharing my plight, but at least I’m not alone.

A funny thing happened at the lunch meeting, too. As I said, I only knew one person, but I was positive I recognized another one of the women and couldn’t place where. Then, when she said her name, it all fell into place.

It must have been about five or six years ago, when I was putting myself through the hell of online dating. While browsing through the available females in Hoboken, I kept coming back to one especially stunning picture. I took a shot and e-mailed her, but she never wrote back.

I doubt she remembered me, between the passage of time and the Grizzly Adams beard I’ve been sporting, so there was no awkwardness whatsoever. I know I don’t remember most of the people I “conversed” with via online dating. And I’m obviously happily dating my girlfriend, so I had no regrets. The picture didn’t lie, though: She was beautiful.

It’s a small world, but the unemployed portion of it seems to be expanding exponentially.

I must have beer radar

My girlfriend and I went to Boston this past weekend and, due to both holiday-weekend traffic and a bad accident on I-91 in Connecticut, it took us seven-and-a-half hours to get there. The trip back was far more relaxing for a number of reasons.

SBC Restaurant and Brewery

Our trusty GPS took us back via an entirely different route. We took 95 to 91 to 84 to 90 (Massachusetts Turnpike) on the way there, but, on the return trip, the GPS’ shrill female voice commanded us to leave 84 for Connecticut Route 15, or the Wilbur Cross Parkway, which I had never heard of in my life. It actually turns out that the Wilbur Cross Parkway becomes the Merritt Parkway, which I have heard of, and that took us into the Hutchison River Parkway, the Saw Mill River Parkway, the Henry Hudson Parkway and, finally, the West Side Highway to the Lincoln Tunnel.

So, where does beer come into this?

While we were still on the Wilbur Cross Parkway, we decided to stop for lunch as soon as we found an exit that looked like it led to civilization. By civilization, I was really hoping for a Wendy’s, but what we ended up finding blew Wendy’s away.

We took the exit for Hamden, which I had also never heard of, and by sheer luck went right instead of left, where we actually would have found our Wendy’s. The first establishment on the right: SBC Restaurant and Brewery!

Leave it to me to find a brewery in the middle of nowhere!

The only unfortunate part of this tale of hops and malt is that they were out of their stout and their porter — the two beers I’d have really preferred — but I really enjoyed my pint of brown ale and my fish and chips.

It’s good to see my beer radar works, even in the middle of the Connecticut woods!

Consuming calories in Boston

After invading Washington, D.C., last Presidents’ Day weekend, my girlfriend and I headed in the opposite direction this past weekend and basically ate and drank the city of Boston.

The first of two fantastic restaurants we enjoyed was Atlantic Fish. This was the best seafood meal I’d had in quite some time. Everything was fantastic — great bottle of wine (David Bruce Pinot Noir), fresh clams on the half-shell, hearty bisque, tasty sushi tuna appetizer, her salmon dinner and my blackened scallop dinner. Atlantic Fish is definitely recommended.

The other incredible meal was in Boston’s North End at a restaurant called Taranta, which bills itself as a “marriage between Southern Italian and Peruvian cuisine.” Again, every part of the meal was delicious: another great bottle of wine (La Posta Malbec blend), pan-roasted mussels, her pappardelle pasta with wild mushrooms porcini and my pork chops (the pork chops are their specialty, with good reason).

Now, on to the booze!

Bleacher Bar

If you’re a baseball fan, the Bleacher Bar is a must. It’s built into Fenway Park, and I mean built into Fenway Park — the huge window is actually the right-center-field wall. It’s a great way to get a peak inside a historic ballpark during the offseason or while the Red Sox are on the road, and I’m sure it’s a zoo on game days.

Growler from Boston Beer Works

I rarely go to another city without hunting for microbreweries, so I visited two old standbys. The first was Boston Beer Works, right near Fenway Park, which had an Espresso Stout that might have cracked my top 10 beers of all time. In fact, it was so good that I brought home a growler.

The second was John Harvard’s Brew House in Cambridge, right by Harvard. I was disappointed that they don’t seem to offer their porter any more, but the XO Stout and Provision Ale were fantastic.

I seriously need to go on a diet.

Unemployment Nine: Morgan Stanley, WTF?

I definitely picked the wrong career path. Even though I really had no interest in finance when I was in high school or college, in hindsight, Wall Street was definitely the way to go. Where else can you completely fuck up an entire nation’s economy and be rewarded for it?

According to Gawker, Morgan Stanley and Citigroup are paying out $3 billion in bonuses despite receiving $60 billion in bailout funds from the federal government and being required to cut $1.1 billion from their budgets so the two companies can merge.

Oh, pardon me: I apparently got my terminology wrong. They’re not bonuses: They’re awards.

This from Morgan Stanley co-president James Gorgman, according to the Huffington Post via Gawker: “There will be a retention award. Please do not call it a bonus. It is not a bonus. It is an award. And it recognizes the importance of keeping our team in place as we go through this integration.”

WTF?

Not angry enough? Gorgman continued, “I think I can hear you clapping from here in New York. You should be clapping because frankly that is a very generous and thoughtful decision that we have made. We spent a lot of time kicking this around. We could easily have done it from the point of closing, which is obviously going to be somewhere in the latter half of this year or around the middle of the year. But we just decided … that it was right thing to do, to give you that certainty that it would be based off ‘08. ‘09 is a very difficult year … So that degree of anxiety, which many, many of you have e-mailed me about … is now off the table.”

If this is some kind of sick joke, I’m not laughing.

The common excuse for these payouts is that financial firms have to retain their top talent. Well, considering the current situation — which is rapidly approaching the point of bodies flying out of office-building windows and former CEOs selling apples near train stations, a la 1929 — exactly how talented can this top talent be?

I never took a finance course during my college career, and how much worse could I have screwed things up? I’m seriously considering scouting out vacant lots that would be good sites for Hoovervilles.

As someone who has been unemployed since October, I am enraged. The money from one of these bonuses — oh, excuse me, awards — would likely pay my salary for a year, and then some. Did I ever make my old company millions of dollars? I have a pretty high opinion of my contributions, but I’d have to say no. However, did I ever cost my old company millions of dollars? Not even remotely close.

Bailout funds should be used to keep a company afloat, NOT to pay out bonuses, awards or whatever other creative terms people like James Gorgman come up with.

People who worked hard and did their jobs the right way, like myself and my fellow unemployed former co-workers, should not be out of work and scrambling while people who destroyed an economy go shopping for cars, boats and summer houses. If there’s anything the federal government can do to cut off these awards, it should be done immediately.

James Gorgman: That sound you hear is not clapping from New York: It’s a head slamming into a monitor in Hoboken.

Three is the tragic number

The New Jersey Nets have to be the worst team in NBA history at defending the three-point shot, and I’d really love to know why.

I’d love feedback from someone who knows more about basketball than I do. For once, I’m not being sarcastic, which is odd because sarcasm usually seeps from the pages of this blog.

I consider myself a fairly knowledgeable basketball fan, but I never played organized ball, so I haven’t picked up any of the coaching wisdom that covers my question.

Three-pointer

I just watched the Nets get completely outplayed by the San Antonio Spurs, and Matt Bonner was one of the main reasons. Matt Bonner has exactly one NBA skill: three-point shooting. So why in the name of God was Matt Bonner open all night?

If it sounds like I’m ripping Matt Bonner, I’m not. I’d love to have a guy like him on the Nets. He may have one NBA skill, but it’s a valuable one to have. It just frustrates me that the guy has one purpose on the court and the Nets continually allowed him to accomplish it.

Obviously, the Spurs have some great inside players, with Tim Duncan representing one of the best to ever set foot on a basketball court. But why was Bonner’s defender constantly leaving him wide open with enough to receive a pass, set his feet, examine the basketball, get a perfect grip, look at David Stern’s signature, check out the hot blonde sitting courtside, elevate (barely) and nail a three-pointer?

I love the Nets, but there are nights when they can be excruciating to watch, and tonight was one of them.