Michael Landrum

Maybe it is time to split the two restaurants off into different threads, which despite their commonalities, are two very, very different restaurants. East River, which despite a shaky start (for me) is a restaurant I am truly, deeply, and madly in love with, is beginning to show the promise of all I have ever dreamed of. Anyone who has been there over the past week will know exactly what I mean. The work has been started, but by no means is over. Ray's: The Steaks, which is something we have all come to like or love (or at least come to depend on, for better or worse), despite my best efforts to the contrary, can only become a vector through which to find the cracks of fault-lines--even if the changes are negligible or noticeable to only the most discerning of critics. I hope--and fault me if I am wrong--nothing can shake that foundation. In either case, I have never felt more excitement, or challenge, than what this new project has demanded of me and my team. Or ever more promise in what the future holds, together with the strength that the DR community has given me. Thank you. And if I haven't said it before, if it wasn't for your collective vision and dissent, I could do nothing.

Crazy. Second day yesterday, and we already broke the century mark (over 100 guests). All at the amazing check average of $14.50 per person--just shy of my anticipated $15 per person. Lunch today? 65. Will somebody please help me?

One thing I hate about the press is that they do not listen to what you say, but rather twist your words to fit what they have already decided to say. Or they lack the intelligence, talent and imagination to grasp an idea that has not already been delivered to them pre-digested by a publicist, but rather can only recognize stereotypes based on pre-defined, limiting and safe categories. Or they distort truths to feed controversies that may or may not exist and feed the need to sensationalize (as in the case of Jane Black, who after spending 6 or more hours shadowing me throughout my workday with complete and total access, and another 10 hours in direct interviews for a "personal profile", somehow drew the insulting conclusion that not much of my work "paints me as a pillar of the community" despite knowing what I do for Walter Reed and other endeavors, as well as claiming that I am "more famous for throwing diners out than welcoming them in" when in fact no one besides GAR does more to make their restaurants welcoming to more people and a broader range of races and classes than I do). So as much as I appreciate the recent press, and as much as I have reached the point where it is best to just let my work speak for itself, I do need to address some lazy, but dangerous, misconceptions before they become accepted common wisdom. Ray's: The Steaks at East River is NOT an upscale steakhouse which is somehow controversial and ignores the needs of the community while flaunting an unaffordable, out-of-touch and out-of-reach establishment in the face of a community that isn't "advanced" enough to have a need for a quality establishment, even if jobs and basic social safety nets are significant concerns. The inherent condescension of that lazy, ignorant assumption and the underlying assertion that a certain community is undeserving of quality and respect frankly sickens me--is there really a class of people that doesn't deserve cloth napkins? For whom cloth napkins are too good?" And the inherent insult in the choice of the descriptor "eccentric", rather than, say, "committed" or "passionate" or "far-sighted" offends not just me, but reveals an underlying prejudice concerning that community that is shameful in this day and age. The menu and food at Ray's: The Steaks at East River will be left for people and the press to discover for themselves and will not be further discussed by me, except to say that except one or two items, NO full entree selection (including steaks) including a choice of three sides will cost more than $18 (any one of which will provide a full additional meal the next day, or serve two people at one sitting and STILL have leftovers), with many in the $11-$15 range. In addition, we will have a selection of sandwiches and burgers under $10 which will include choice of 2 out of either fries, sweet potato fries, salad or coleslaw and which I GUARANTEE will feed two healthily and well, or provide a full second meal the next day. In addition, we will offer a children's menu starting at $3.95 which will start with a salad, include a freshly prepared entree with two vegetables, fresh fruit for dessert and either a glass of milk or juice. All of this while serving unique specialties the likes of which and the quality of which are not to be found anywhere else in this city or elsewhere, for that matter--not just scaled-down versions of what we already do. Further and finally, the core purpose of Ray's: The Steaks at East River IS jobs, with every cent of revenue being pledged to job creation and training, and tutoring, mentoring and meals programs for children within the community, and with a further pledge from me that not a single cent earned WILL EVER LEAVE THE COMMUNITY. With your permission, Don, I will refer any and all future press inquiries to this post and hopefully let this stand as my statement of record, even if my intention in starting this thread was not to open the topic to discussion of the culinary aspects of Ray's: The Steaks at East River.

Agreed, Deal. Done.

I have news so shocking, so profoundly disturbing on such a fundamental level in so many ways that the utter horror and despair that it will cause so many people make me only able to cackle and caper about in paroxysms of sheer delight. That's right, unbeknownst to any of you who reside or work or even passed through DC today ever so briefly, today was, by Official Decree and Proclamation of the His Honor The Mayor of Washington, DC, Ray's The Steaks Day in Washington, DC, and there is nothing you can do to change that and the fact that you were part of it and you will have to live with that for the rest of your lives. You feel so dirty and no shower or mikve will ever make you feel clean again.

As Richard Wagner, who inexplicably severely mispronounced his own name, said: "Without proper pronunciation, there can be no racial purity!" Or was that von Goethe? (The one who came up with those wonderful caramels as a young man, and not to be confused with Fawn Gerta Liebowitz, who died in a tragic kiln accident at Emily Dickinson College just days before a sorority sister majoring in primitive cultures mysteriously disappeared from an Otis Day concert at the Dexter Lake Club) The fact is, the field of modern linguistics long ago ceased to recognize, let alone debate, even the idea of correctness in any and all aspects of language. Not that that can stop me from laughing at the soldiers from Walter Reed we get up in Silver Spring when they try to pronounce "au poivre" or "bearnaise."

Naw, I'm holding out for a spot on Shear Genius, where I truly belong. Besides, I've trying to get that damn Andy Cohen to stop calling me and asking me out for years. No way am I going to encourage him or give him false hope now. Plus, I have a show in pre-production for a rival network: "Kitchen Tool Academy." Since this probably is my last post before I am banned for life, I might as well say it... It is my understanding that Craftsteak closed and is now Collichio and Sons. Two things: One, if you can't keep your flagship enterprise open, are the Diet Coke commercials and hosting a game show really such a good idea? And two, I may be wrong, but when a business is called Someone and Sons (or Daughters), doesn't that mean that it is a multi-generational business, founded by the progenitor with the sons entering the business at a young age, learning to run it over the course of many years, eventually taking it over and then carrying on the tradition established over, let's say, at least three decades and standing for values, quality and honesty that no other business could match? I can only imagine what Colicchio, the Judge, would say about the restaurant during Restaurant Wars that would dare give itself such a duplicitous, bogus, arrogant, hubristic and sham name. I for one can imagine few things more pathetic and insulting by someone of his stature as such a blatant betrayal of a tradition that stands for authenticity and trust in the face of dishonesty and fraud in order to perpetrate the very dishonesty it promises against. I rant against this apostasy, really, because before Top Chef and the subsequent, indiscriminate expansions, he really was an inspiration and model of integrity for me.

Thank god. Just in time. Finally. Now that Todd English's cowardly and duplicity-laden retreat (and other, as yet, for some reason, unreported events) has marked the absurdity and the end (or at least saturation point) of absentee and no-show media chefs making news for now, the infestation and glorification of a new round of Bravolebrities is just what we need to fill the void and keep the daisy-chain circle jerk going. ETA: This isn't to say that last season's participants weren't impressively talented individuals. They were. And a couple of the stand-outs were real class acts, whose post-fame modesty gives even more weight to the credit due to them.

If not already necessary for the superlative writing, the current Oxford American would be a must-have only for it's blue-tongued cover (popsicle? Sno-Cone? Fla-Vor-Ice? dare I say, Blo-Pop?) which hauntingly echoes and rivals Kubrik's evocation of the unsettling power of toenail painting. I should hasten to add that the issue is chock-a-block with great writing and that Todd's piece isn't even the best. That would be Jack Pendarvis' chicken-on-a-stick story. Those of you familiar with my work, and my past lines of work, would know why this story is so appealing to me. Close second is Marianne Gingher's but more for the picture, which together with the cover, has me twinking happy thoughts in my tiddle cup. And of course, any one with even a feigned interest in food and culture should never miss anything that John Edge, with the mysteriously insisted upon "T.", writes. I've been reading the Oxford American since it actually was published in Oxford, before the embezzlement scandal, before the two bankruptcies, before the hiatus and I always buy extra copies for the college kids who work for us in the summer to take with them to school, so they can be cooler than anyone else.

In an eerie, continued confluence between the world of DonRockwell.com and The New Yorker, a story by Jennifer Egan in last week's issue quotes Iggy Pop's "The Passenger" (for what it's worth, she has a better, less annoying story in the current issue of Tin House). That doesn't take away from the fact that it is criminal, and sad, to make any reference to "The Passenger" that is not to Antonioni's genius work with it's greatest-ever final (well, penultimate) tracking shot--well, second greatest, after the opening tracking shot which it "undoes" while paying homage to from "A Touch of Evil", and my with my dear, dear, beloved and lost Maria Schneider. Sorry guys, but hipster, insider cultural reference...NOT! Not when only Maria Schneider, light of my life, fire of my loins, my sin, my soul, rightfully deserves transcendent immortality.

I do believe that Earl's deserves some type of humanitarian award for serving their amazing breakfast sandwiches all day long.

It's official. I now spend more money on Jason's chocolates than I spent on coke in the '80's, Batard-Montrachet in the '90's, and emergency generators and Roquefort in the '00's. And guess what? They're even better at getting me laid.

And make no mistake, either, I am not saying anyone is on the take--I am more referring to the journalists (new and old media) who repeatedly report what their journalistic standards should force them to know are outright lies or who continue to uncritically (without regard for or mention of prior known bad acts) report on business owners who have repeatedly proven their financial and moral malfeasance when that malfeasance is known to all with an even glancing knowledge of the subject, and then make no effort to report the facts when new instances of malfeasance or prevarication come to light (facts which would be unflattering to the perpetrator and reporter alike). It's one thing to be Bernie Madoff, it's another to be the one encouraging others to invest, even if you know something is fishy, just so you can get your money out. And it is yet another thing to be the SEC regulator who further ignores the reports of wrong-doing because to reveal them would make him look bad for approving the damn thing in the first place.

Shit, you worked for the original master himself, why don't you talk, Captain Courageous?

FoodService Monthly, in naming Lynne Breaux "Foodservice Leader of the Year": "...she has created a voice for the hospitality industry that must be listened to. When the District was considering the Accrued Sick and Safe Leave Act in 2008, which requires employers to provide paid sick leave, the final bill protected restaurants with exemptions..." and "helps relieve [other] payroll pressures..." (namely, the relentless battle against raising the minimum wage to living wage standards). And "...the prime success story has been the growth of the RAMMYS...the planning and execution is a year round work in progress..." You draw your own conclusions.

You mean you would love to have me say the things that you already know but won't risk saying yourself.

Despite these lacunae, Tom still is the hardest working critic I am aware of (too hard if you ask me, especially with his non-review work). Besides, that's nothing in an industry with poster-boy chefs with no job (but a full-time publicist) and mini-Madoff TV chefs lying to and stealing from their staffs. Or a restaurant association whose only interest is in screwing restaurant workers and raising money for itself at the expense its members. The real crime is a media (newspaper and web) that is too chickenshit to own up to getting duped by these hucksters and con artists or to admit their active complicity in perpetrating those frauds.

Strangely enough, Calvin Trillin just stopped doing his regular column in the Oxford American, where his writing was always more interesting than in the New Yorker. (The fact that Trillin has long-standing relationships with both probably explains the quote from the editor of the one in the other). In my mind, Todd's piece definitely upstages, and it is great to see his writing in such an historic and storied journal. Still out on the stands is the Southern Music issue, an annual must have. ETA: Ooops, I almost forgot to annoy Don by including tangental links to artists in this year's issue: Crazy Wildman Sonny Burgess and Little Bob and the Lollipops.

Substitute "Links" for "Heart" and we have Don's anthem. Those piano lessons will really come in handy in your next career, don't you think, Don? (This is kinda like telling your kids "Not another peep out of you!") Peep! Peep!

As opposed to the wing of the Library of Congress dedicated to snOdes and ping pong challenges? And the best meal I'll ever serve and the hours of work that go into will be nothing more than shit in a matter of hours. Does that means I should stop my guests from having fun? Now matter what, you're my hero for being in the New Yorker!!! In fact, you are so much more than that!

Well played, sir. Well played. I can now concede defeat and head home. Of course, not to be confused with this, the way that someone might be confused with one business owner opening a Twitter account under the name of his competitor and using it to post fake twitters. Now this is how you do it if you want to do it right (taken from the Hell-Burger training manual).

I respectfully suggest that all of the above posters always avoid any and all schoolyards at all costs, and hold on very tight to their lunch money at all times, possibly even hiding it in their sock where they'll never think to look.

Oh my god, does that mean that maybe...

Jill Scott Gil Scott

With the right kind of hosiery involved, I'll break any dam--oh, wait, are we or are we not talking about horses here? Sorry, I just had to do it.