Thought for Food

January 14, 2010

That back is mine.

Photo by Steph Goralnick at the Photojojo Food Photography Safari in December 2008, from Michael Cirinos’s (rather delayed) write-up.

That event was one of the times I was talking about. The place was packed. He was demo’ing homemade vermouth and block ice-cutting. He was not there to make drinks. And I turn to my sister and say, “We need a Ramos. Watch this.” (She’d known since Thanksgiving that I kinda liked him. Or maybe more than kinda….*) I sidle up to the bar, put on a smile, and ask for one of the most labor-intensive drinks in a barman’s repertoire. I’m sure he had to run to the kitchen for cream. But of course he made it without so much as a grimace.

I returned triumphant and very generously shared it with Gena.

And I conveniently blocked this from my memory, but my Flickr set doesn’t lie — I went back and asked for another one for my Dad! Shameless.

Evidence:

Well, the boy knew what was good for him. A couple of weeks later (Jan. 15th to be exact!) we were going on our first date and by Mardi Gras I consented to the title of Girlfriend. (Strung him along on that one for a bit. Never a bad idea.)

* Full disclosure: we went to see “Slumdog Millionaire” over Thanksgiving weekend. Afterward, I said, as nonchalantly as I could manage, “Indian guys are hot, don’t you think?”

“NORA,” Gena said, “I know exactly who you’re talking about.”

“No I’m not! I just mean, y’know, in general.”

Sisters know best.

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