Berlin: good EATING makes me happy, bro

First off: everything I ate in Germany was scrumptious.

Two delicious Berlin restaurants here, I'll put the best one first. It's called Schneeweiss, or Snow White, and is located in the Friedrichshain neighborhood (which was bumping with eating people) and offers flawless, traditional Alpine cuisine. I love wiener schnitzel, but I got the roasted pork, seen here. It's not as much the look but the perfect taste of it that made me fall in love. Eddie and Juergen got the lamb, and I deboed a few veggies from Eds, and they were so perfectly unaltered, plump and flavorful. It was as if God grew them from Her own belly and kissed them before placing them on the plate. The waiters were kind of laissez-faire about us, the atmosphere was pretty and modern, but the food was why I spent 20 hours curled up in a puddle of my own saliva, heavy on Valium in a shaky tiny plane. Please eat here. Your stomach will give you a high five.

Monsieur Vuong is a very popular Vietnamese restaurant where we were packed in like a tin of tourist sardines. We actually ate there because Vuong is my roommate's last name and I needed to get him a shirt and pics of his name in lights. These boozy drinks ruled, and the pho was really light and yet filling. I would definitely suggest a re-eat.

London 1: Harrods - Afternoon Tea and Many Muslims

I had afternoon tea in the Georgian Restaurant in Harrods last weekend. Appropriately, the inside is decorated in the Georgian style, however, we opted to sit on the terrace which was really lovely and bright. The tea was pricey, but worth it for the Harrods experience. This experience includes the intoxicatingly delicious raisin scones with clotted cream (seen below) and an inordinate number of wealthy Muslim ladies who were binge shopping. I'm part Lebanese, though not Muslim (go Maronites!), so I can say whatever I want about my own people. Harrods is owned my Mohamed Al-Fayed, an Egyptian whose son died with Princess Diana. I guess he's doing a great job marketing to his people, because there were more 'rabs in Harrods than in Dubai. They're rich as shit and I really don't understand how many $3,000 purses and $500 pairs of underwear you can actually buy. All they wear are black drapes, so you know they're not getting DVF dresses. Every time I see one, I just want to take their credit card and What Not to Wear on them. However, there were some lovely Arabs with style. If you'll notice, my favorite swathed lady can be seen in the background, below the clotted raisin heaven. She's talking to the ugly version of Carson from Queer Eye, who we couldn't stop laughing about. It was a good scene.

mmmm....

Stormy Weathers

I just got back from my brief "vacation" to Manhattan and New Paltz, NY. I will give you an adequate update soon, since I ate delicious food in a beast-like manner which you must salivate over.

I just wanted to tell a quick complaint tale about my flight up. I was scheduled to leave on Thursday at 7:30, but there were tornadoes in Hialeah or something(?). Anyway, my flight didn't leave till after midnight, and it was the bumpiest ride, possibly ever. It was probably how it felt to fly on the first commercial flight over the Himalayas in wintertime. Yeah, it sucked. I even felt the shake through my drug induced "sleep." Then, an hour before we landed, the pilot wakes me from my pathetic rest to tell us that Laguardia closes at 3 a.m., did anyone know this(???), and that we were being diverted to JFK. Perhaps my least favorite airport.
So, at around 4ish, I finally was waiting in line for a taxi, when I said, fuck it, I'm doing a car service. I jumped into a car with a dude --Wally-- from the Ivory Coast (of course), and we made friends. Apparently he sells real estate, and has places listed that are in my friend Liza's building. Small world! He introduced me to some Nigerian musician dude named Fela. There's truly a buttload of great African music out there waiting to enter my ears. Thanks, Walls.

Anyway, I'll post my other adventures later. I just wanted to complain about my flight. I wonder if Miami was any fun this weekend without me. It was probably MORE fun, but I am into being delusional, it was boring, I'm sure. This works for me.

So, this hurricane, huh? Fay's going to dump on my birthday tomorrow?
For sure.
But I'll still be chillin' at home dressed in a cat costume with a cider in one hand and a red velvet cupcake in the other. What better way to spend you billionth b-day?

Mufasa Month, Bro

I am a Leo, and every August I take a vacation and I get the hell out of town. This year, I'll be on holiday (as Eddie says) twice: New York this weekend, and London and Berlin the following Friday, for a week. This means that if you want to do wrong by me, wanna tongue an ex of mine in plain, public view, or talk a ton of trash about how lame I am, these will be the times to do so. Of course Miami, bro needs a break from the Miami-life. Miami, bro can, and will travel, and then tell you all about it. Just because, bro. Why the fuck not? I'll be Chilling in NY, bro and then Straight Chilling in London, bro, and finally, Fucking Chilling the Fuck Out in Berlin, bro.

You know how it is.

Hey-Adams, a DC MUST

The Hay-Adams Hotel is situated directly across the street from the White House. The namesakes of this DC gem are John Hey, who worked for Lincoln, McKinley and Teddy Roosevelt, and Henry Adams, the renowned intellectual and descendent of John and John Quincy Adams. Hay and Adams lived in adjoining houses on this spot in the late 19th century and theirs was one of the leading salons of its time, hosting discussions of the greatest minds of their time from a variety of disciplines. After their deaths, the property was leased to the Brazilian embassy, later torn down and became this fancy-pants hotel.

The walls of the bar downstairs are covered with caricatures of politicos, presidents and wannabe politicians. Clearly they were drawn in groups by different artists during different eras. One of the walls displays Obama, Nader, the Hillary Clinton of today, as well as Al Gore, post presidential loss, in scuba gear; this is the most updated. Another has Clarence Thomas and Marion Barry smoking a crack pipe, clearly from yesteryear. There are at least two Carters, Clintons and Ted Kennedys. It was fun running around pointing out political heros and foes. Luckily my Aunt Nancy and Jimmy are the biggest nerds ever to be torn from a human womb, so we knew most everyone drawn there. This was one of the coolest places I have ever been in DC, and I've been there plenty of times over the years. Simply put: it rules.

Here's me, hitting on the 65 year old Indian bartender, trying to score a free drink (failure).

Our future president!!!
The family, in a booth. This place was chill as fuck. It was like Fox's without the grime. Oh, and with the prestige of former visitors, such as the rulers and great thinkers and shakers of our nation.

Greek Good, mmmm

Mourayo is a delicious Greek restaurant in Dupont Circle: 1732 Connecticut Ave NW. It's very tiny, but the waiters dress like sailors (! yes, gays, I am not kidding). This guy was hesitant to let me take his picture and asked if I was going to put it on the Internet, I said yes, took the shot and, voila, it's on the Internet!
This was my lamb stew with orzo. The meat was tender, there was a distinctly Mediterranean taste to it: yummy cumin. The appetizers were amazing: a soft cheese in philo triangles, Greek salad with chunks of feta and thousand island dressing, fresh octopus, grilled pita, a plate of dipping sauces including perfectly flavored humus, some fish things and, my favorite, tzatziki, thick and a little lemony.
This was a swordfish skewer.
Black ravioli.
Shrimp, scallops and some octopus inky substance.

DC 1

I was out of the MIA and into the District of Columbia last weekend. I have some reviews, pics and family hideousness to add here. I'm starting with a few lovelies of my trip generally speaking. Here's a little snapshot of the Capital Building right here.

This is Adam's Morgan, 18th Street, the view from my cousin and brother's place. It rained the whole time I was there, but here, for just a moment, the clouds showed us mercy. They're very hooked up at this location, they are near everything/anything. You can drag your ass in any direction and eventually bump into some place to eat that's decent.
This is a shout out. Cheers to Jimmy (inferior sibling), Diana, Leah, Alfonso (my new, better brother), my cousins: Farrah, Julie and Mary Kate. This place was called Rosemary Thyme Cafe, which was just OK.
This is my prettiest family member, Farrah, eating garlic out my hand.

This is my brother, Jimmy. His look was heavily influenced by the film Deliverance.