Rabbits and Tongue and Sushi, Oh My!

I have to preface this by saying that I’m not the most consistent of eaters. And by that I mean that I don’t generally eat three square meals a day, mostly because I’m a busy mom with a husband who works long hours at his restaurant. I’m also a bit lazy.

My body is used to maybe a piece of toast and two cups of coffee for breakfast, crusts of the kid’s grilled cheese for lunch, and then I’ll for the most part eat a mostly kinda sort of oh, who am I kidding. I am a "restaurant widow." Dinner is a joke. I’ll feed my children well, but for me, four days out of seven, dinner might be a bowl of Frosted Flakes at 11:00 at night.

Right now, my father is composing a strongly worded email to me that will include phrases like "The Food Pyramid" and "cancer-fighters" and "metabolism" and "I thought I raised you to eat better than that." And my mother is standing over his shoulder all, "Make sure you include ‘The United States of America’ in there somewhere."

The reason I tell you this is so you understand that my body isn’t used to rich foods in a wide array of cuisines and in plentiful amounts. My body is used to coffee and Cap’n Crunch Berries.

Which explains why my body was all, "WHOA, HORSEY!" when I attended Pittsburgh Magazine’s Best Restaurants party recently.

Sixty restaurants. One room. Food everywhere. I started with the first table I reached that didn’t have a line and found myself nibbling on rabbit. Yes, rabbit! My stomach muttered, "Hmm. This doesn’t look like Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Odd."

Barb and Scott Simmons  to my left, then John Carman, Meg and Mike Woycheck.I followed that with a plateful of sweets from SweetHouse Bake Shop that included tiny cupcakes, miniature oatmeal cream pies, and brownies stuffed with icing. You can see a bit of that in this picture right here:

I have that weird smile on my face because I currently had a white chocolate/peanut butter cup of heaven in my mouth and because my stomach was screeching, "INTRUDER ALERT! INTRUDER ALERT!"

I followed that with things like tuna, and sushi, and marshmallows dipped in chocolate, and carrot cake, and spoonfuls of a delicious lentil concoction, quesadillas from Mad Mex, meatballs from Bocktown, more sushi from Nakama, and by the time I drank some strangely delicious, super cilantro-flavored, spicy drink from Yo Rita, my stomach panicking, "I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THIS!"

At another table, I eschewed the meaty triangles of cow tongue something or other that my husband said were delicious because I knew my stomach would have taken one look and yelled, "EVERYBODY OUT!"

It was the most delicious, and, by the night’s end as I sucked down the Pepto, the most painful evening of my life. But a good pain.

My eyes have been opened to the wide variety of delicious, rich, colorful, extraordinary foods offered by Pittsburgh’s best restaurants. I mean, I found a sushi taco from Typhoon that was so delicious, I’m having my next dinner date with my husband there with nary a bowl of Count Chocula in sight. And I’d never even HEARD of Typhoon before that party.

If you’re a foodie to any extent, you really must check this party out next year. I plan to be there and hopefully by then, my body won’t be so hell-bent on rejecting anything that didn’t come out of a box with a prize on the bottom. 

Categories: PittGirl