Tuesday, October 20, 2009

People Love Themselves on Yelp, volume 4

This one was such a magnificent disaster, I had to reprint the entire review. It is not only uncomfortably creepy, but the showboaty pseudo-fiction tone is just hilarious. There are some people on Yelp who write these would-be noir sort of reviews, but I'd rather eat my own toenails off than read any work of "Fiction" these guys write when they've finally managed to stop furiously jacking off in the mirror.

Njoy:
  • Sauntering into Bastas on a sweltering hot afternoon, I found myself in a quaint little restaurant obviously inspired by the Italian bistros of the Napa Valley.

    I sat myself at the bar and admired the rows of Italian wines on prominent display. Associations of good times past kindled my memory as I studied vintages that I've enjoyed previously.

    Draped in an elegant black dress, the lovely bartender inquired on what refreshment was necessary to quench my parched palate.

    "Your choice", I said.

    "What do you like to drink?"

    "Whiskey."

    Revealing a thin smile from the side of her slender lips, she proceeded to prepare a simple cocktail with purposeful intention.

    "This is a horse feather", she said with a hint of pride as she served it to me.

    One sip of the smooth and refreshing drink was all that it took to sooth away the harshness of the hot day.

    "You do know me", I said.

    Glancing at the happy hour menu, I took note that this was not the typical bar fare and ordered the carpaccio and roast quail.

    The carpaccio was prepared just like in I've had in California wine country, with lovely slices of Parmesan and flavorful vinaigrette complementing the thinly sliced beef.

    The roast quail was prepared with a spicy dry rub and baked. I enjoyed that tasty little bird.

    I only savored Bastas bar for one, short, happy hour, but it was an entertaining hour at that.

2 comments:

  1. I threw up in my mouth a little when I re-read that just now

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  2. That review made me hungry, like the wolf, to swim the cool waters of the Russian River anew, sipping the fertile wines grown on the land therein, with that slim blonde winking as she placed the glass betwixt her rose-red lips and the carpacheeoh filling our bellies.

    ReplyDelete

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