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As most of you know, I love to eat. LOVE TO EAT. And in addition to fanciful, delicate foods, I love my trash food. The fried chicken, the french fries, anything that is ordered and prepared in under ten minutes falls into this category.

I saw "Super-size Me" and skimmed "Fast Food Nation," they just made me want to eat fast food more.

Last weekend I had the pleasure of dining at McDonalds. I’ve ordered the same thing from them for as long as I can remember: Big Mac (ketchup only, no cheese) and large fries. I then put the fries next to the patty and close up the bun. It’s delicious, and apparentely an East Coast way of eating a burger - although everyone from the East Coat who has seen me do this looks at me like I’ve just tried to sell them a TV.

After paying just over $5 for this feast (including a Diet Coke!) I ascended the steps to my apartment and assumed a familiar position over my coffee table. From then to clean-up, the process lasts less than fifteen minutes.

Re: the digustingness of this kind of eating - Ali Faranakian once said that if someone tried to offer you a burger like a Big Mac at a barbecue you’d punch him in the mouth. Yet we fork over cash willingly for food that is barely classified as such - and drink sodas that cost more than gasoline (for now, at least).

I have eaten at the elite spots around the country. I have tried holes-in-the-wall that deserevd Michelin stars. A couple of weeks ago at Moto, was one of the most spectacular meals I’ve eaten - and it cost more I would mention without a lot of prodding (and quid pro quo).

So on this 26th day of January, here are words to express how I feel about such a wonderful eating experience. Please enjoy this three haiku series.

PART 1: ANTICIPATION OF TASTE

Shoes on both feet now
Approach Hispanic sentry
Her eyes wreak of fear

PART 2: To Be Born

We have transacted
Consumed, we die together
Bag in hand, I run

PART 3: When Fires Ignite

Upstairs my sweet go
Approach lips and beg for quick
Start means end too soon

—end—

A friend of mine from high school is a Black Hawk helicpoter pilot with the U.S. Army in Iraq. Earlier today there was a Black Hawk crash and my mind immediately goes to my friend.

I sent him a note and a few hours later I got one back from him that said he was a-ok.

Crazy stuff.

J

Late Sunday evening I found myself standing on the Blue Line train, hurtling toward downtown Chicago. The tail-end of an eleven day spree, culminating in five days in New York, dovetailing into a New Year’s eve celebration.

It’s good to be home.

New York was a nice mix of complete relaxation and bacchanal destruction. My first night was spent with my feet up on an ottoman  watching something on television. I say "something" because my eyes closed almost as fast as they opened the next morning when a rather aged pug named Bosco was licking my hand.

I spent the first day - as I spend most first days in New York - shopping. I went straight downtown, Soho/Noho/Tribeca. There’s something about the people in that part of the city that make want to shop. Not because I particularly relate to them, but because it becomes a contest of who can wear the most conceptual piece of clothing. It’s usually a 19-year-old Asian gal, but who’s to say that one shouldn’t even play the game.

That evening we lit Channukah candles and I took my g-dcousin (roll with it) out for her birthday. We are both pretty adventurous eaters, so we tried this vegetarian place that I had been a few months prior. It’s called Gobo - www.goborestauarant.com and it’s really delicious. I’m a big fan of vegetarian/vegan eating (maybe after a few years of dating vegetarians) because the food is so focused on taste. I love a big steak - but there’s something about the inventiveness in flavor that really gets me going. Check out the website for some examples … and I recommend the avocado tartare.

After that, I crashed out.

The next few days followed the "Houston Cycle" - wake up late-morning, visit someone for lunch. Take a little nap. Have a way-too-big dinner, then go crazy.

Thursday evening I went with Jared (he’s a Friendster) and his girlfriend to see a band called "Assembly of Dust" that his sister manages. Their genre is "jam band" which I was a little leery of at first, but these guys are incredible musicians. And they packed Irving Plaza. It was pretty cool to watch them from the VIP balcony and everyone was dancing, and singing along.

Then I met my cousin Bebe - who is amazing - in the East Village. If I’m not finding the kind of people I like in Soho, it’s because  they are all in the East Village. Maybe I’m an old rock-and-roll guy at heart, or was a speakeasy owner in a past life, because I love the scene. It’s often a combination of underground (and luxurious) or grungy. Either way, the people there are my kind of crowd.

One of my favorite text messages from Bebe that night was: Come meet us at Nublu on Avenue C. No sign, just blue light out front."

– more to come –