Nonetheless, I still decide EVERY YEAR that I should give something up for lent. I like to torture myself.

I’ve given up many random things over the years – soda, gum, meat, Cable TV, TV, movies, brushing my teeth, etc. Usually, I’m pretty successful. For the past two years though, I’ve given up alcohol. For anyone living in NYC in their 20′s, I think giving up alcohol is probably one of the hardest things to do in LIFE. Work events = alcohol, birthday parties = alcohol, brunch = alcohol, walking home from the gym and passing a bar and you just ran out of bottled water = alcohol, waking up in the morning and bored?? = alcohol, not having to drive home EVER = alcohol. I think you get my point.

Last year for lent, “not drinking” was pretty easy. I had pre-designated “sign-off” friends who could approve minor indiscretions of the no-alcohol policy. Basically, whenever it got hard, I would call a friend for “sign-off”. Lent began with 1 or 2 days of complete 100% off the wagon NO drinking. Around the 3^rd -5^th day, I would have a birthday party or a dinner with work, and I would call my “sign-off” friends up, and we’d agree…SIGN-OFF was necessary. After all…how can someone not drink at a close friends birthday party or at a networking work event?

Eventually, I started to obtain “sign-off” for more and more things. Pretty soon, clauses were added: dinner with friends? Sign-off! Only drinking wine? Sign-off! Only drinking beer? Sign-off! Drinking after 3:00 p.m. but before 8:00 p.m.? Sign-off! Drinking after 2:00 a.m. but before 5:00 a.m. on a non-work night? Sign-off! On a work night? Sign-off! Happy Hour? DEFINITELY sign-off!

At the end of Lent 2008, my liver was destroyed and I was on the verge of checking myself in to the Betty Ford clinic.

For 2009, I am a new man. Gone are the days of random indiscretions and meaningless “sign-offs”. Water, diet coke, coffee, tea, juice and Pellegrino are flowing freely. Absolut, Ketel, Goose, Pear, Blueberri, Stoli, have not been touched.

I’ve surprised myself – in the past three weeks, I’ve had 1 trip to California, 6 brunches, countless dinners out, 3 work events, 4 birthday parties AND a 2 week NO WORK hiatus! (Not drinking when you are not working for 2 weeks is basically UNHEARD of, and I am still thinking to myself “why the hell did I do that?!”)

I’ve fulfilled my time doing other things – eating junk food? Of course. Chipotle whenever I want? YUP! 2 pairs of Diesel Jeans (at over $450)? Definitely. Banana Republic, Bloomingdales, Amazon free-for-alls? Uh-huh! After all, I deserve it! I’ve probably saved hundreds of dollars not drinking…I should treat myself.

Needless to say, my alcohol-free days are nearing an end. I have an event this upcoming Saturday that I will HAVE to cheat at (it is a black tie formal event with open bar where tix cost $300…HECK YES I’m drinking!) And, I have a training trip for work to Chicago in 1.5 weeks. The thought of not drinking for a week in Chicago with drunken Spaniards, Italians, Brazilians, Australians, etc. from Accenture all over the globe is definitely not an option either.

At the end of Lent 2009, I am predicting something entirely different: my bank account will be decimated, I will weigh 10-15 lbs. more, and my liver will be only a tad bit better off. Has not drinking for over 3 weeks made me a better person? Do I feel more energized? Do I jump out of bed at 6 a.m. ready to run a marathon and leap tall buildings in a single bound? Of course not.

The only thing that gets me out of bed every morning is the knowledge that I can drink again in 2 short days. RETOX BABY! RETOX!

Double Fisting (with Humma) Will Start Again Soon!

The bad thing is…I think my contract only takes me through the end of the week. So, we’ll see if I’m back on hiatus soon (hopefully not).

So what does one do when they find out they are on hiatus? For me, it involved immediately going online and booking a flight to Cali. My flight left the next day (2/28) and I was on my way to LA and OC to see my family and friends for an impromptu visit.

And boy, were the sun and beaches in LA nice. Not only did I leave the frigid weather of NYC, but I missed the entire snowstorm that we had last week. Upon landing at LGB, I was greeted to this:

On Sunday, my sister and I decided to go see one of my besties (Mary), so we headed out to West Hollywood. We picked Mary up, then headed over to Santa Monica where we had lunch at one of her fave restaurants, the Library Ale House (on Main Street) where we filled up on amazing burgers, chips, guac and sweet potato fries. After, we walked across the street to check out the beach and stroll on over to Venice.

Mary and I on Beach in SaMo

My Sister (Amy) and Mary on the Beach

Watching the drum circle in Venice was definitely cool. Basically, people drum in a circle and random people dance around. Around sunset, the drum circle grows and the dancing and music get even more crazed.

Drum Circle in Venice

Unfortunately, I forgot my shorts (I thought LA would be a bit chilly!), so I was the dud sitting on the beach in my jeans. Oh well.

Me in Jeans on the Beach

The best part of the trip though was coming home to my dad fishing in the backyard. No…we don’t have a river, a creek, an ocean or a lake in my backyard. We have a pool. My dad was prepping for his fly-fishing trip to the Sierra Nevadas the following week, so he decided to bust out the fishing hat, fishing vest, pole, rod, reel, and flys.

Dad Fly Fishing in the Pool. Yes...the Pool! (Notice the cool sandles he is wearing?)

Hoping to Catch the "Big One". Love the Fishing Vest!

My Dad’s Final Catch: 2 bass, 1 trout, 1 200 lb. swordfish, 3 dorados, 4 bluefin tunas, and the loss of the dignity and respect of his entire family. =)

A bar with a mechanical bull.

Horrific, right? Well…the way I sold it to the rest of the group is that we were going for the macaroni and cheese. The mechanical bull would just be the additional icing on the cake.

Needless to say, the night was great…I never knew I had the cowboy gene in me. And no…the mac and cheese was NOT that good…but the chance to dress in plaid and ride a bull after work? Priceless.

And P.S. We’ll miss you Kevin!

Kevin, Joe and Me at Mason Dixon - Pre Bull Ride

Riding it Like a Pro!

Baby Joe and His Bull Bruises

You heard it right folks. Now, when we are documenting business requirements or on a conference call with India, we can burn calories at the same time.

It’s kinda sorta what I’ve always wanted. Not to walk on or to do actual exercise…but to watch the a-hole walking on it fall flat on their face while tripping over their laptop power cord.

But then I realized they are $4,292 each. And in times like these, I begin to wonder…couldn’t that money be better spent on a Happy Hour? Pass the martini!!

Treadmill Walker #1 = $4,292

Treadmill Walker #2 = $4,292 + $4,292 = $8,584 of Martini Money!

And you seriously thought I was going to say that money could be better spent to pay another persons salary for a few weeks?! AS IF! =)

Oh and P.S. thanks to my co-worker Matt for the photo!

Anyways, I digress. What I really want to post about now are tacos. And my taco trip to Brooklyn a full FOUR weeks ago. Yes, 4 weeks. I told you I was a bad blogger, didn’t I?

For those that knew me during my college years in San Diego, I became a connoisseur of tacos during my days working in Student Affairs at the UCSD Biology Department. Sandra (the receptionist for the department) and I spent most of our days gossipping or talking about food. Kind of like what I do with my co-workers today as well. Most of my Mexican experiences in SD up to that point involved being super drunk (as most college kids tend to be on weekend nights…or weekday nights) and driving to Roberto’s Tacos or  El Cotixan where we would get massive California Burritos  (carne asada, french fries, salsa and guacamole), rolled tacos (basically what everyone else in the US would consider to be “taquitos” except these were REALLY good and doused in guacamole and cotija cheese) or Carne Asada Fries (a pound…or two.. of french fries, topped with chopped carne asada, guacamole and cheese). Needless to say, just thinking about carne asada fries makes me re-live my days in the dorms and makes my stomach growl and the drool start coming out of the corners of my mouth. YUM. For some of you who want some food porn…here ya go:

In Case You Were Wondering What Heaven Looks Like

Anyways, back to Sandra and why I brought her up in the first place. Basically, Sandra introduced me to the place that would forever change my viewpoint on tacos for the rest of my life. After work, we would hop into one of our Honda Civics and make a beeline to the border. This time though, I wasn’t headed to Tijuana to dance the night away (and partake of the amazing $10 all you can drink specials…oh to be a college freshman again), I was headed to Tacos El Gordo in Chula Vista (the city right before you get to Tijuana). Chula Vista was Sandra’s home town, Sandra is Mexican, and Sandra KNOWS tacos. And Tacos El Gordo is in my opinion, the mecca of tacos. The prices have gone up over the years (I remember when they were < $1.25/taco!) but to this day, I’ve never had a better taco in my life. Tacos de buche (stomach), tacos de cabeza (head), tacos de lengua (tongue), tacos de adobada (pork), tacos de asada (steak), tacos de tripa (tripe)…I had them all. Multiple times over.

Tacos El Gordo

So when I moved to NYC, I knew that not only was I going to be leaving the warm weather and beautiful beaches. I knew I was leaving something much more important and dear to my heart: the tacos. (What?!?! You didn’t REALLY expect me to say my friends, family and grandparents, did you??)

Mexican food in NYC generally sucks, is too expensive, or it’s a combination of both. When I heard about an enclave of Brooklyn called “Sunset Park”,  that supposedly had the best, most authentic Mexican tacos in the NY area, I knew I had to try it. And with that, I threw out the email to my Dining Club group, and agreed on a date and time. We were going to Brooklyn on a taco outing, and I was our fearless leader. I scoured the internet, the blog sites, and anything else google could throw at me. It was TACOS OR BUST and I was not going to head out to Brooklyn and come back empty-handed (or empty-stomached)!

Our group convened on a cold wintry January 24th day (at least it was sunny) and jumped on the R train at Union Sq to begin our schlep to53rd St. in Brooklyn.

First stop: Tulcingo Deli VI

From my research, this was the place to try tacos arabes (a taco with an almost ‘pita’ like tortilla). Consensus: AMAZING (although my friend Amy thought they were too salty). Matt and I loved them and we instantly got excited for the rest of our days’ journeys.

Tyler, Matt, Hamish, Jenny and I (in front of the buxom restaurant mural)

Picture of the Arabe:

Tacos de Arabes ($2.50)

Hamish and Tyler decided to try their luck with the tacos de chorizo (generally not my fave…I want REAL meat not sausage), but these were saved by the huge dollop of guacamole that covered the perfectly seared chorizo:

Taco de Chorizo

We all left Tulcingo satisfied. Yummy tacos, a good introduction to “real” Mexican, and we had 3 more places to look forward to!

Second Stop: Ricos Tacos

Any restaurant whose mascot is a pig in a pot HAS to be good. And this place was no exception.

Got Pork?

Apparently, Ricos was the place to go to try the Tortas. For the uninitiated, tortas are basically Mexican sandwiches served on crusty white-bread bolillo rolls (I know this because my mom used to buy these rolls for my sister and I to make our turkey sandwiches in school).  The menu included a large variety of toppings and I of course opted for the pork. The stringy queso blanco was delicious and the bun was perfectly toasted. In the future, I need to remember to order mine sin mayonesa (without mayo!)

Inside a Torta

Tyler’s Breaded Chicken Torta (Tyler was in heaven because the mayo was literally oozing out. I almost retched in the corner thinking about it):

Breaded Chicken Torta

And once again, for our 2nd restaurant, all that was left of our tortas, tacos, strawberry “fresa” milkshake and sodas was a pile of dirty plates, discarded lime wedges and greasy napkins:

Our Remnants

Third Stop: Tacos Matamoros

Our third stop was the veritable Tacos Matamoros. This place was the most popular on Yelp, but had the most corporate feel about it. Most of the other places we went to felt more mom and pop. The restaurant was bustling and before going in, we decided to take a group shot to commemorate our Dia del Puerco (Day of Pork)!!!

Happy Campers- Jess, Amy, Matt, Tyler, Hamish and Jenny

The good thing about this place was that it was BYOB (maybe the other places were BYOB as well, but I never thought to ask), so Matt and I walked over to the nearest bodega to pick up a 6 pack of Pacifico and another 6 pack of Negra Modelo. Our stomachs were getting full by this point, so the carbonated beer while good, did nothing to calm our stomachs. We all ordered a variety of tacos (some people tried the tongue, head, and shoulder tacos, while others stuck to the more traditional steak and pork). All were good…some had too much sauce which watered down the tacos (we were missing the crunch and char of the other taco places), but the flavor was overall decent.

A Chorizo Taco from Matamoros

At this point, I stopped taking that many photos. My stomach was gurgling (and not in a good way) and I had to un-pop my jeans to sit properly.

Luckily though, I came prepared. Our savior was the bottle of “Pink Bismuth” (generic Duane Reade version of Pepto Bismol) which we proceeded to pass around the table. Not everyone partaked, but I DEFINITELY did.

Sippin Some of the Pink Stuff

Gargle Time!!

Fourth Stop: Tacos Xochimilco

Tacos Xochimilco was literally across the street from Tacos Matamoros. It was a hole in the wall (which I liked of course), but at this point, not even the Pink Bismuth could save me. I was sweating grease, my hands smelled of taco juice, the Negra Modelos were causing some ferocious burps. I felt like I had been beat.

We ambled into the restaurant where we plopped ourselves into some chairs close to the kitchen. Since this was the last stop of the day, the wusses of the group talked about ordering desserts (flan, strawberry crema, etc. etc.) Matt and I looked at each other and grunted. We knew we had to get the tacos, and tacos we ordered. 1 tacos pequenos de carnitas (for me) and 1 tacos pequenos de lengua (for Matt).

Unfortunately I don’t have any pictures but these tacos were some of my favorite. They had a nice char to them (they were crunchy unlike the Matamoros tacos), and had an overall really good texture. It had the basic salsa, side of limes and radishes. I ate mine slowly, wishing my stomach was a little bit bigger so I could eat more. At this point, I couldn’t move. It was time to go home.

Unofficial Fifth Stop: Panaderia!

Luckily, before boarding the subway back to Manhattan, we noticed a panaderia next door to Tacos Xochimilco. We stopped in and being the gluttons that we are, we all got a few pan dulces to munch on during the ride home.

Pan Dulce

Assorted Pastries

Jenny Picking Out Her Pastries

Tyler Loves His Pork Rinds

Matt Wanted to See if the Lukas Candy He Remembered from His Childhood Was As Good As He Remembered...It Wasn't

And so…after our long taco filled day, we realized that indeed, a taco does grow in Brooklyn. Was it the same as a San Diego taco? Of course not. But did it hit the spot for the day? Definitely.

Oh…and just to remind us again that we were definitely NOT in sunny San Diego, this was what greeted us on our walk back to the train. I think it enjoyed mocking us:

Dirty Icy Snow Man

When made, the roll has 5,000 calories and 500 grams of fat. Sounds DELISH! It is basically a lattice bacon “crust”, filled with italian sausage and more bacon, that is wrapped, and then baked or fried. Bacon/pork overload? Me thinks not. Bacon/pork amazingness? Obvi! 

Weave the bacon, stuff the bacon, eat the bacon. Yum!

I think this may need to be my first recipe from my new Bacon of the Month Club. Thoughts?

So on election night, besides calling my mom, dad and sister and my hardcore Democratic Aunt/Uncle in AZ to celebrate, the next call I made was to my Congresswoman for tickets to the inauguration!

Unfortunately, 3,000 other NY’ers also had the same idea and my Representative (Carolyn Maloney of NY) sent me the proverbial “thanks, but no thanks” email at the end of December, effectively dashing my hopes and dreams of attending the inauguration.

I moped around for a few hours, and then said “screw it”. I live a few hours away from Washington, DC.  I have friends with available beds. Transportation to DC is cheap. I have tons of vacation time. Maybe, I even have friends with extra inauguration tickets.

And with that, I called my friend Todd (who I hadn’t seen in over a year), confirmed he was still living in DC, booked my tickets on Bolt Bus (only $25 each way and free WiFi!) and started to get excited.

While I won’t bore everyone with the details, I can honestly say that being in DC for the inauguration was an experience I will remember for the rest of my life. During the Inaugural Concert at the National Mall , when Tom Hanks took the stage and gave his stirring monologue quoting Abraham Lincoln, I couldn’t help but notice the elderly African American lady standing in front of me taking in his words. While I didn’t know the ladies’ age or her history, I sensed that this moment was something she had been waiting for her entire life – I don’t 100% know if she had lived through Jim Crow and the Civil Rights Movement, I don’t know if she was ever forced to drink out of a separate drinking fountain or sit in the back of a bus. But when she wrapped her arm around the young lady standing next to her, tears staining her cheeks wet in the cold January air, I knew that this moment was not as much for me, as it was for her. An African American was elected to the highest position in the United States, and for a moment, it seemed like we were all one.

OK, OK. I know you are all gagging yourself with the “nice sob story Scott” thought. So I will stop.

But…and in case you were wondering…YES I did get a ticket to the inauguration (thanks Juan and Michael!). A big, fat, gleaming, official PURPLE ticket. So booyah Carolyn Maloney. (Did I really just write “booyah” in my blog??) I got to go to the inauguration. I got to see Barack Obama become our 44^th President. I got to freeze my nuts off. And I apologize to everyone else who had tickets for the Purple section…I cut in front of thousands of you to get in to the inauguration…and I loved EVERY second of it.

Me, Steven, Brian at the We Are One Inauguration Concert

Me, Andrew and Todd at Inauguration Party

Me and My Cousin Kyle at the Inauguration Party

Me and Mike in Front of the Infamous Purple Gate

My View of the Inauguration

Well, this Christmas was a little bit different.

In my old age, Christmas gifts tend to get a bit boring…I exchange gifts with my family and a few close friends, but the gifts always seem to be same sort of thing. A sweatshirt, makeup for the ladies in my life, something “fishing” related for my dad, etc. etc. But this year, my friends literally surprised me with something I never would have expected…They got me a membership to the most exclusive club in the whole wide world…the BACON OF THE MONTH CLUB.

What, you may ask is the Bacon of the Month Club? Well (as my friend Mary excitedly told me as she unveiled my present), it is basically just a club where every month, you get bacon delivered right to your door. AWESOME.

For those of you that don’t know, I like pork. As a kid (up until a few years ago), I would be the type of person who would get a piece of bacon, and throw away all the white, gelatinous fat. With a steak, I’d chop off every bit of the fatty white marble, eating only the beef. But, with the advent of pork belly on EVERY restaurant menu in the City of NY, I have begun to appreciate fat. In fact, I’ve grown to LOVE fat and ESPECIALLY, pork fat. On a menu, if I see pork belly, pork skin, pork hooves, pork chops, I have to order it. I know its unhealthy, but screw it. You only live once. And, as the adage goes, “fat is where the flavor is”.

Upon arriving back to NYC from Christmas break in Cali, I opened my mail to find a membership package (complete with T-Shirt, pig snout, pig pen and a membership certificate) into the Bacon of the Month Club. YES! I was official.

Around two weeks later, I arrived home to find a note from the USPS, alerting me that a package was attempted to be delivered to my door. Of course, living in the East Village, there was no one to sign for the package, so the following day, I schlepped to the local post office to pick up what I knew was my first pork delivery. Dropping off my slip at the pick up window, the old man working behind the counter went behind to pick up the package. My mind raced with thoughts…”What would the box look like?”, “Is bacon shelf stable or does it need to be refrigerated?”, “Is this going to be some crap Oscar Mayer bacon that I could have gotten at the local bodega?”, “I hope its not going to be lame”…

Well, you could imagine my surprise when the post office attendant brought from behind the counter a box that was big enough to hold a baby elephant. “I was wondering who was in a bacon club”, he joked as he passed me the box. I took the box from his hands, looking at it. “Could this giant box really be mine?” I thought. The wording on the package confirmed it…

Bacon of the Month - Box

…”Bacon of the Month Club” was EMBLAZONED all over the box. There was no denying it, this giant cardboard box was mine. “YES” I thought immediately…”SCORE! There must be like 10 lbs. of bacon in this box!!” I jumped on the subway (since I was on my way to work), giant box in hand clutched to my chest. Did everyone in NYC need to know that I was in the “Bacon of the Month Club”? No. But I couldn’t find a bag big enough to hide the evidence that I was a pork fiend. I had to go to work, and I was already 30 minutes late.

Bacon of the Month - Box (2)

Upon getting to work, I immediately got to action…opening my package and finding out what pig-laden jewel laid beneath. I peeled back the packing tape…I felt as if I was Charlie and I was about to open that one Wonka Bar with the Golden Ticket. Curiously, I opened the first flap of the box…”What was inside” I wondered…

Bacon of the Month - Open Box

Hmm…a sheet of paper with some corny “Bacon Trivia”…Whatevs. I want pork. Not trivia.

Eagerly, I opened what was underneath…

Bacon of the Month - Inside Box

“Hmm”, I thought…”Well…it CLEARLY isn’t the 10 lbs. of bacon that the this GIANT box would suggest”, but YAAAAY! My first shipment had arrived. It was in perfect condition. It was wrapped thoroughly in some high-gloss-aluminum-spaceship-grade packaging and a chilled ice pack was on top.

One pound of fresh-from-the-farm Vande Rose Farms Applewood Smoked Bacon. Delivered from Des Moines, IA. David Chang (the chef synonymous with the East Village “Momofuku” restaurant chain fame and lover of all things pig said this about the bacon: “One of the best bacons ever! Taste and Balance are tremendous. It all starts with a great pig, man.”

Bacon of the Month - Vande Rose Farms Applewood Smoked Bacon

I have yet to cook my bacon…I’ve been busy the past week or so in DC for the inauguration (a post to follow soon!), but I am giddy in anticipation.

And, since my “Bacon of the Month” club would not have been possible without my three lovely girl friends (some of the best friends a guy could ask for), I will give them a shout out too. Thanks Mary, Aubrey and Jenny. I love you gals.

Once again, you made me believe…SANTA ROCKS.

OINK OINK!!!

Aubrey, Mary and Jenny - My Bacon Enablers