I have a poetry deficit.
I know, there's a lot of deficits going around lately, but this is a really really serious situation. I've sworn off pop music, country music, all reality TV (including American Idol), talk radio, the news, and Desperate Housewives. That's where we get our poetry, people. No one sits around at night with class of red wine reading Pablo Neruda it to their loved ones and then discussing the prose. What the hell is wrong with us???? Around here, the moment Tori steps off the bus, it's a flurry of constant activity punctuated by dramatic moments including tears over whos turn it is to use the red paint and why someone got the last drink of orange juice and where are the blue crocs....
And then I collapse on the couch beside my already snoozing love for fifteen minutes before I crash at 9pm.
Which leads me to the point of this post.
The point is that even if you (like me) NEVER GET TO EAT AT THE LINCOLN CAFE. (I'm not bitter.) You can still go to their website, sign up for Chef Matt's weekly emails, and have a little poetry injected into your chaotic, romance-less, snoozing by 8:30pm every night no matter what life.
Let me give you an example:
"ALSO, at the cafe this weekend we're doing Angus Ribeye, big ones, with Jasper Hill blue, beautiful butter lettuce, a reduction of Sangiovese,(Luna,) crushed peppercorns, applewood bacon and local country mashed potato. I know it's not all foamy and stuff but it's a really great weekend dinner. Also, Jidori (look it up) chicken with riesling (Esterlina) poached pears, butternut bread pudding, rosemary jus and mustard hazelnut salad. And Lochduart Salmon with romesco, house cured olives, (thanks to Ian forsending me those from the L.A. farmers market in April '07,) pancetta potatoes, and pickled eggs."
He has a really lovely serious girlfriend. S0 don't even think about it. And like most men, even if he did not have a really serious lovely girlfriend and you weren't married with children, and even if you did manage to make him your man, he works all of the time. And like most men, a year in, he'd be snoozing on the couch with not a clue about something interesting to do this weekend. You'd be planning every outing, packing every bag, and picking up his dirty socks from every corner and crevice of the house. This would be your only hobby. So shut that little voice in your head right up.
However, you can get his poetry emailed to your inbox about once a week and then you can fantasize that you eat in his restaurant sometimes.
Go. Sign up.
And for the love of all that is holy and right.
Stop watching Desperate Housewives.
"If you or your wine-swilling friends wish to signup for his regular Lincoln Wine Bar email newsletter, please send an email from the account you wish to receive the newsletter to http://firstname.lastname@example.org, with the word "subscribe" in the subject line. You will be automatically added, and your life will automatically take on a lovely bouquet of blackberries, spice, and worn leather.