An FSL Mexican Thanksgiving

Okay, so this is a little late, but it's not my fault. Well, partly. I(Megan) didn't have a blog though! I'm not pointing fingers, D is a busy lady. It's probably a bit late for her to remember that evening to write about it, so I'll share a bunch of embarrassing photos and videos of us all instead. They capture the evening quite well I believe. It was my turn to choose a restaurant, but since it was so close to Thanksgiving(and the theme was "Indians rule, turkeys drool"), I opted to have a Mexican Thanksgiving at my place instead. It was truly a bonding experience. Haha.

And...GO!

And then we all thought it'd be a good idea to hide from Janessa while she was in the bathroom...





And Janessa's response at the end of this video...





To make up, we all decided to reenact the Banana Boat scene from Beetlejuice...





Don't forget the PHOTOS!

Bah!

Okay, so, I switched the FSL Blog to the "Beta Blog" to update it, and now it shows my profile for the Science of Megan on here, instead of the FSL Profile. Since I signed in with the same gmail account, it won't let me use two separate profiles. Annoying. If anyone knows how to figure out how to show a different profile, let me know. Maybe if we add an extra author(D!), we can put our FSL stuff back up.

Megan

FSL Attacks Stephenson's

WINDS OF CHANGE. OR SOMETHING.

I’m assuming this is the train of thought that led us from our theme of the week to the family-owned Stephenson’s Apple Farm Restaurant of Independence: As the World Turns (as proposed by our beloved President); times are changing; changing seasons; leaves turning colors; it’s fall; apples. Whatever the thinking that landed us there, we were happy as apple pie to be there. Kudos to Karen for choosing the location.

This music is all soundtracky. Whoah.

We were seated in a dining room that resembled what could’ve been the gallery of an 1800s-style mansion. The room was all decked out for the holidays with poinsettias and red place settings. The décor kind of cramped our style, as we had decked ourselves out in fall colors and patterns to coincide with our theme. Yet another example of people rushing the holidays. Sigh.

Our server was this adorable elder woman (whom I will refer to as Grandma) that was all too excited to tell us about the fried chicken special and the history of the restaurant. Grandma explained to us that Stephenson’s was started by “the twins” years and years ago. Apparently, one of the twins is living it up in Florida. The other has had a stroke and doesn’t really know who anybody is anymore. (You know how old people are – they just love to get up in everybody’s chronic illnesses.)

After absorbing some of the Stephenson’s history, ambience, and elevator-like music, we scoured the menu for the fattiest items and made our orders.

Janessa – the Fried Chicken Special & a glass of Apple Cider

Dana – Creamy Baked Chicken & a glass of Apple Cider

Megan – ditto & a glass of Apple Cider

Karen – Hickory Baked Chicken and a Manhattan

I love cheese carrots.

Have you ever bitten into something that looks like it should taste one way, but then turns out to taste like something else entirely? All four of our salads had this cute little carrot imposter that turned out to be cheese. Imagine that – thinking you’re going to bite into a crunchy carrot, but it tastes like cheese! What a delicious surprise.

The salads were good – the cheese carrot certainly helped – but the cornbread and apple butter… Oh. My. God. There was an all-out war for who got to put their dirty little hands on that bowl of apple butter. I think Janessa won, partly because we all conceded for fear of our lives.

Who else has babies?

While waiting for Grandma to bring out the main courses, we got to talking about “the old neighborhood,” otherwise known as Blue Springs. The conversation took us everywhere from an adventure with the townie bars the night before to updates on fellow classmates (special shout-out to myspace). We also got to talking about what games our football-obsessed lesser halves were watching. Here’s a snippet from that conversation.

“I always hope the team that he likes will lose so he’ll feel like he wasted his time. Is that mean?” said Reagan.

“I’m from the school of I Want Them To Win because then I can enjoy my Sunday night,” said Sharon.

Note: the above names have been changed to protect the guilty, er, innocent.

If this dumpling had a soul, I’d feel sorry for it.

After devouring whole chickens, a small potato farm, and what had to be an entire rice casserole, we willed ourselves to order dessert. Janessa’s fiancé Jeff recommended “the apple dumpling thing,” which turned out to be some sort of baked apple surrounded by a dumpling, swimming in vanilla ice cream.

After paying our respects to the innocent apple dumpling dessert, each of us filled our hollow legs and bottomless pits with every last delicious bit of it. I’m pretty sure I heard it scream.

Just bring me a bowl of apple butter.

Some people get excited by the hint of spring. Others, the nipple slip of a starving celebutante. The girls of the FSL favor the simpler things in life, like time with loved ones, the glimpse of a rainbow, HOLY EFFING SHIT, they SELL apple butter!

We might not be able to afford dinner at Stephenson’s every evening. But the next best thing might just be Stephen’s apple butter, canned and ready to spread on whatever our little hearts desire. It’ll have to last us until our next FSL adventure this Sunday. Who wants to place bets on how long Janessa’s will last?

Photos HERE

It's the battle of the apple butter! FIGHT!

FSL Does Bollywood

Sidenote: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I had this post ready quite awhile ago, and I completely forgot to post it. This took place the last weekend in September. FSL has been on hiatus due to a busy October for the four of us. Hopefully the game will be back on soon. And by game, I don't mean football. Cheers.

MG

Change of Plans

Damn you, Paul.

Nobody likes being lied to, Paul. We really counted on your expertise. And you failed us, Paul. Oh, “sure, we’ll have lanes open on Sunday,” you said. “Bowl your little hearts out,” you said. [dramatization] And then we get to the Lunar Bowl to be told by some snotty 19 year old with a bad dye job that, alas, there are no lanes available until 9:30. You’re a gutter slut, Paul. Thanks to you, the only strike on Sunday, September 24 was on your soul.

I’m crying because I’m happy.

So, thanks to Paul and his brazen lies, dreams of rented bowling shoes and big, heavy balls never came true. What were four ready-to-knock-em-down girls to do with their decorative knee socks and bowling shirts? Flaunt their bowling style at an Indian restaurant, of course. So the girls visited an Indian restaurant named Bollywood. Their FSL attitude was enough to fill a banquet hall, so, fortunately, they had the entire restaurant to themselves. Literally.

The girls ordered their alcoholic beverages (or at least the ones that the server understood how to make… which pretty much included whatever was on tap) and an appetizer that resembled crackers, which was served with three dipping sauces. Karen, on a dare (made by none other than herself) spooned a LOT of the hottest sauce onto her cracker and downed it in one fell swoop. She cried a little.

This tastes like funnel cake chicken!

Turns out that lamb can actually taste like funnel cake. In mass “what to order?” confusion, the girls decided on an appetizer plate that offered several choices. It was a meal based on trust, as everything on the plate looked pretty nondescript and could’ve passed for battered monkey tongue.

Note: somehow, when you batter something, fry it, and serve it on a platter, it always manages to be delicious. Lamb fits into this category. Maybe if more vegetables were battered, fried, and served on a platter, more children would eat them. Just a thought.

The specific entrees ordered had funny names. You know, “funny” as in “not English.” But here’s the gist of what was ordered:

Janessa: Some chicken dish with peppers served over rice.

Dana: Some chicken dish in a mango-coconut sauce served over rice

Megan: Same chicken dish as Dana’s

Karen: Some lamb dish served over rice.

Overall, the consensus was “it’s good!” Although no shots were taken or beer spilled upon realization.

Sweet balls!

Maybe it’s because we were the only four people in the restaurant. Maybe they were left over from last week and the kitchen was trying to get rid of them. Maybe it’s customary in Indian culture. Whatever the case, our server brought us two… well, balls, which she told us was “dessert” in her thick accent. They were the best tasting balls a girl could ever imagine.

Shall we shop?

The bowling theme was shot, and the entire evening was played out by ear. So why not shop? After all, the World Market WAS only a few stores down.

Jewelry was tried on. Pillows were discussed. Chocolate-covered gummy bears were purchased. Pina colada-flavored lip balm was fawned over (and bought, and used, thankyouverymuch). Something about World Market puts your average female consumer into a frenzy. And it was the perfect post-dessert to follow dinner. Ahh, shopping.

A bi-week for the FSL.

No FSL event is scheduled for next week. But don’t worry. Dedicated eating athletes would never let the Supper League simply become a Fantasy. Check back the week after next for eating stats and stories on your favorite FSL playas.

Photos Here!

Update

You no longer have to be a member to leave a comment. Anyone can post now. Sorry about that!

-M

THE FIRST SUPPER

This is the best day of my life.

During lunch at California Pizza Kitchen on a slow work day, Dana and Janessa batted around ideas on creating an “outing ritual” that would be an excuse to get the girls together more often. It should involve friends, gorging on delicious foods, and trying new things. And so the idea of the supper club was born on the last day of August, 2006.

Dana and Janessa quickly decided that Karen and Megan – also a part of the fabulously renowned Sex and Chocolate parties – should round out the supper club to an even four members. Everyone would have a role within the club, as well as a turn at picking the week’s restaurant.

Janessa – President, because she likes to be in charge. Responsibilities include choosing a theme for each supper club event and bossiness in general.
Dana – Secretary/Historian, because she likes to write (just not for clients). Responsibilities include noting interesting moments and quotes from the evening and completing a write-up following the event.
Karen – Research & Development, because she’s resourceful and organized and smarter than most people. Responsibilities include researching the restaurant chosen by the hostess, as well as directions, attire, critic’s notes and anything else of interest.
Megan – Photographer/Technical Support, because when have you NOT seen this girl with a camera? Responsibilities include taking photos throughout the evening and updating the blog.
Hostess – rotating role, because everybody deserves a turn at fame. Responsibilities involve choosing a restaurant that doesn’t suck.

These pencils suck ass.

Dana took the reins as the first hostess, choosing The Rainforest Café with the theme of “wildlife” (lucky for The Rainforest Café that the zoo closes at 5:00, or you can bet there would’ve been dining with REAL monkeys). Choosing the restaurant was the hard part. The easy and out-of-control part was buying lots of crap at the Party America store to fill four animal print goody bags. Said “crap” for each bag included:
(3) monkey tattoos,
(1) monkey bubble blower,
(1) jungle-themed note pad,
(12) lioness paw stickers, and
(1) broke-ass pencil.

Dana and Janessa decided that Karen and Megan should not be told about the club until they were formally “initiated” at The Rainforest Café. So Dana made a deal with a large British gorilla to not-so-tactfully threaten Megan and Karen’s participation in the secret event at an undisclosed location at Tuesday, the 12th of September. (A special thanks to monk-e-mail for use of the threatening monkey.)

Please tell your vomit story before we eat.

Dana, Janessa, and an in-the-dark Karen and Megan met as planned (or a few minutes [read: half an hour] later than planned) at the downtown airport parking lot. What on earth is this all about? Megan thought silently to herself. Maybe we’re going to run naked down the runway and wave at pilots. Karen was perplexed as well. Perhaps we’ll be taking off from this airport to go to some fabulous secret resort destination, she contemplated. They have absolutely no idea, Janessa thought to herself as she smiled knowingly at Dana. I’m SO HUNGRY, Dana whined inwardly.

Do you know anybody that’s good at keeping secrets? Dana and Janessa certainly are. They successfully led the group to the secret surprise supper club destination – the restaurant that would launch them into the first of many feeding frenzies. Stories were exchanged on the drive – some about vomit on a plane, some about friends from afar. The air of the loaner Jeep Cherokee was filled with excitement, curiosity, and a hint of exhaust as they traveled down I-35 during rush hour.

I wish I would’ve sat at the frog table.

The girls finally arrived at their destination. The moment was a bit anticlimactic; after all, they were in the Oak Park Mall parking lot. It’s certainly not a beach destination, and it doesn’t involve any nudity (unless you count the numerous dressing rooms).

The sassy foursome was seated at a table near a waterfall housing a sign that reminded patrons to save the rainforest. Noted. Dana and Janessa filled the girls in on the concept of the club. “You’re either in, or you’re out” they said. The girls were on pins and needles, but of COURSE Megan and Karen were in, as nobody in their right mind can pass up an excuse to eat good food and hang out with beautiful ladies at least once a week. Definitions of roles and responsibilities were followed by the ordering of fruity alcoholic beverages and delightfully overpriced dinners.

Janessa: Fish’n’Chips
Dana: Rasta Pasta
Karen: Tuscan Chicken (how is this considered rainforesty?
Megan: Planet Earth Pasta

The girls ate until they were stuffed (as is the way of the Supper Club). The topic of conversation ranged from moving and new jobs to puppies, and finally landed on football, where Sunday abandonment by boyfriends/fiancés/husbands due to football season was discussed.

“I’m tired of being left alone on Sundays!”
“Let’s do something of our own to make them feel abandoned!”
“Let’s start our own fantasy football league where we EAT.”
“How about we call it the Fantasy Supper League and have it on Sundays?”
“The FSL! I love it!”

The first rule about Supper Club is you don’t talk about Supper Club.

The second rule about Supper Club is you must always have dessert. Sometimes you break rule number one. But you NEVER break rule number two.

There are many delicious options on the “Journey’s End” dessert page at the Reinforest Cafe. But the Sparkling Volcano won. “A chocolate brownie piled high with vanilla ice cream, whipped cream, & chocolate sauce, with a sparkler!” It was rich. Chocolately. Cold. Creamy. Delicious. Melty. Melting. MELTING! HURRY! FASTER! Ahhhh.

Are you ready for some football?

Sunday the 24th is the next Fantasy Supper League (FSL) event. Janessa, as president, will be choosing the theme. And as her luck would have it, she is also next in line to choose the restaurant.

Janessa, the League is counting on you.

The FSL is born. Photos from the dinner here.