So this is the ex-Moose’s (there’s still evidence in that horns…I mean antlers…still hang from the wall), ex-Joey & Eddies and now Park Tavern. And hopefully without an ‘ex’ in front of it for a loooong time. Welcome to North Beach, PT! So does PT fill Moose’s large pants? Read on with breathless anticipation!

We’d heard nuthin’ but good stuff about PT from several of our peeps. The few that actually know WTF good food is too! So we make an OpenTable resie for the other night, but as the luck of the (partly) Irish would have it…today is SPD, so I’m keying off that even though our resie was a couple nights ago…there were exactly TWO seats at the bar! Si I hip-check a couple people  that looked like they were heading toward the stools, and the Other J swooped in like a hawk and secured them. Score!

So this is a big, masculine spot. So of course I fit right in like the burly power broker I am. Ha. Itsa cool spot though that even if masculine (not just ‘cuz they have Moose antlers on the wall), chicks dig it too. They have a big, thick marble bar, an long communal bar table behind it, an open layout with two semi-separate dining areas plus BONUS outdoor seating. Nice design, high ceilings, kinda clubby but not overdone. OK, enough with the Style Section.

We were here for dinner, but ended up – not due to the menu, which looks great – wanting to just nosh on some appys…so we could grab a pie atone of SF’s best – Tony’s Pizza afterwards! We are slaves to the pizza pie, kittens. Have you met us? You should know that by now.

So we hit the drink menu first. They have Hangar One Lime (yay!) so we went in. And then, to soak it up:

THE BEST EVER Deviled Eggs, ($2 each!!) with Bacon, Pickled Jalepeno & Chives. Do I need to provide a taste profile? Look at the ingredients! Sorry this pic does not do these eggs justice. We love the crap outta good Deviled Eggs, love the ones at Spotted Pig in NYC but these kicked that pig’s curly little tail. If you just come here, grab a cocktail and a dozen or so eggs you hit the jackpot!

Next, a Burrata dish that was awesome but I can’t remember the specifics. Pretty hard to screw up Burrata, am I right? Gooey Mozzarella & cream, rolled into a ball. Works for me. Served with Crostini. I think it costs $8 or so.

Then, Housemade Beef Jerky ($7), which is up there with my fave jerky ever, Krave out of Sonoma. I’d take Krave over PT, but it was smoky, chewy semi-moist and tasty. Hey, it’s Jerky.

To finish us off? The NY Steak Crudo ($11) with Horseradish, Arugula & Parmesan. Awesome. We are, in addition to Pizza, Hotel, Salsa and many other categories of Bitches, becoming raw steak beeyootches to boot. Usually Tartare preparation at Epic Roasthouse & Alexander’s Steakhouse in SF, Cercle Rouge and Balthazar in NYC are some of our faves. This crudo? Damn good, with just the right amount of horsy sauce.

Did you notice anything, kittens? Beside the witty reparateé? The prices. These prices are very reasonable. And the entree prices aren’t bad either all in the $20′s for the most part. Ans unless you live in a mobile home park in Arkansas, that’s not shabby.

So after several cocktails and these awesome appys, we stroll out the door, hang a sharp left and pick up the pace as we head toward Tony’s. WTF?! For the love of god we’re in North Beach San Francesco California and Tony’s Pizza is closed Monday & Tuesday?!?! Tony G., there may be an open letter to you coming. And it may not be as flattering as my recent scribe to Scarpetta’s Chef Scott Conant! Man, well fortunately his little slice outpost next door was just before closing and we hit it for a slice and pouted our way to Tony Niks for a nitecap. They are very cool about letting you bring in food as you knock back a couple classic cocktails in the cool retro vibe.

So to reiterate – a kick-ass NoBe Trifecta would be our awesome meal at Park Tavern, a pie at Tony’s Pizza and nitecaps at Tony Nicks. But like Meatloaf said, 2 outta 3 ain’t bad!

So here we were, layin’ around on our last morning in NYC (at The Standard), wondering where to have our final supper b4 hauling our (fatter) bodies out of NYC & the Poconos (don’t ask). And we were kinda brain dead I gotta tell ya. Plus it’s Sunday so you have to be aware of those dangerous Brunch Menu switch-a-roos that don’t have any of the crap you want, and all that. We’re googling like mad for tapas, this, that and then the intelligent one of us (not me) has the ah-ha moment of discovering the next great pizza pie. WTF. Of course.

Rule: Nowhere we’d ever been. This has to be new. So I find L’asso and she finds Numero 28. Needless to say, we go with her selection for so many reasons, and location was key, as hers was in the West Village and mine, LES. Hey, we have a plane to catch! We’re really diggin’ the West Village too by the by. And that’s where it’s at, Numero 28 Carmine off Bleeker.

It was still pretty early Sunday, just past noon so we strolled right in even though, as serious pizza snobs with a plane to catch, we made Open Table resies just to make sure we could skirt past the riff-raff. Actually I can’t believe this place even did OpenTable, way to go OT sales guy! But for reals, I think almost anytime anywhere in NYC before 2p on a Sunday and you’re in, but we were taking no chances.

This is a serious pizzeria with an old-school been-around-the-block Italian charm.Like Sophia Loren meets Tony Soprano. Kinda.  Itsa pretty small space playing soccer on a small TV with an ATM in the bathroom. Handy, ‘cuz they only take cash. Plus if you’re feelin’ baller style you can withdraw some Jacksons to use in place of Charmin, beeeyotches!. Whoa. Hey! Anyhoo, looked like just 1 dude slinging pies and a very family-run type of vibe.

So, we make haste and order a couple pies and a glass…ha, ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION?! a bottle of Pinot Grigio. The pies? One Margherita Reginella ($16) with Tomato, Mozzarella di Bufala(!), & Basil. BTW FYI PDQ they have 3 different Margherita pies on the menu, and the one we chose, with di Bufafl, the King. Or should I say Queen since that’s what it was named after. No, a real Italian Queen, fool. By the name of…Margherita. OK, and 1 Carpricciosa ($16) with Olives, Artichokes, Ham & Mushrooms. Both are pies that we always have when we’re in Italia, and 1 is one that I can never pronounce correctly. You guess.

Here’s the down low. Or low down: First, the stuff (aka ingredients) are distributed all the way to the edge. Feel me? Frankly I get annoyed when there’s a big ‘ol whitewall of crust on the outside, serving no purpose except making sure your fingers stay clean when you pick up a slice. Wait. First should actually be, this place was chock full o’ Italians. Like the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval for a pizzeria.

Second, the crust had a perfect char and blistering, and was still thin enough to be a little wimpy and still maintained a perfect subtle chewiness. Oh, back to the sauce: the sauce was, in addition to being all the way to the edge, out-F’ing-standing my friends. Off the vine fresh. Slightly sweet, but spiced spot-on with oregano and basil. And maybe other stuff that’s secret.

Third, the ingredients were awesome and fresh. OK, the Key Ingredient Distribution, which y’all know VdV is a bitch about, might not have been the best with the Margy, but true Italian joints could give a rat’s ass about our anal retentiveness about KDI. Random wins. And I don’t argue with Italians. And I don’t sleep with fishes, either. At least not yet. The sauce was so damn tasty on the Margy I coulda used a little more. Waaahhh! But I don’t care. And the Capricciosa? Up there with any we’ve had in the heartland of pizza, Napoli.  Bonus, they have hot red chile oil to boot. Double bonus? After we treated that bottle of Pinot Grigio like our bitch, our sweetheart of a server poured us a couple tumblers of vino gratis.

Bottom line, Motorino, we love ya! But Numero 28 just kicked ya to the curb. Go!

Hey Scarpetta,

Wait. This is personal.

Dear Scott,

Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? I’ve gotta admit, I think I have a slight ‘dude crush’ on you. Watching you on Chopped, 24- Hour Restaurant Battle and other Food Network shows, you exhibit a charm that…impresses me. You don’t come across like you want to beat the crap outta people like Chris Santos does (although I love the crap outta Stanton Social, maybe it just went to his shaved head, or perhaps it’s just his ‘on-air persona’). You seem genuine, and when you have to drop the hammer on someone, it’s like you do it with a tap hammer wrapped in velvet.

Hey, I just think it’d be fun to knock back a few bevvies (what is your go-to drink BTW?), shoot the proverbial shit, flirt with some hotties and then just call it a night. Harmless hijinks. Or maybe even catch a Knicks game and go a little Lin-sane, who knows. Whatdya say, Scott? I get to NYC about every 6 weeks or so. No pressure though.

Anyhoo, before this gets too awkward…

Back to Scarpetta. Dang, this place has a great rep, and a resie waiting list to match. We  finally managed to get our act together far in advance of our recent NY trip and scored a Wednesday 9:30p table. Woo-F’ing-Hoo! This is a cool spot, a Greek-revival townhouse with a cozy feel.

So this place was recently listed as having the #2 pasta dish in NYC according to Eater.  And that did nothing but psych us even more to gorge on The Dish- Spaghetti with Tomato & Basil.

And even though we basically ate 2 dinners before we arrived (lotsa appys at Catch, review soon, and then the incomparable Truffle Sliders at STK) we were licking our chops when we sauntered in. And BINGO! 1) yes they had a bar plus b) there were two empty bar stools. Check and check. Off to a great start!

We’d heard raves about the bread here from our two very close chef friends S&S, but frankly I had ignored them. I’m not getting all hot & bothered about bread when I’m at Scarpetta, feel me? But then the Bread Basket appeared. And in it? Stromboli Bread! OMG this stuff is awesome! Sure the other bread was fresh and excellent and we polished it off like rabid coyotes going after field mice.

And although this place has a great menu, lotsa tasty sounding appys, as well as some excellent pescé, we skipped all that and went straight for the house made pastas. First, the dish o’ the house, Spaghetti with Tomato & Basil ($24). Scott’s gotta love the food cost margin on this baby! Whatever, if it’s good, it’s good let’s not quibble over a few bucks. Bam! We spend a fair amount of our free time in Italy, and understand the credo of ‘un-complication’. Embrace basic, fresh ingredients and just let ‘er rip. And this dish brings it. The pasta is cooked al dente, slightly thick (no angel hair here), and the tomato sauce, you can tell they just blistered those San Marzanos with some garlic and let mother nature do the work. Yummy!

Along with that, my kittens, we feasted on a Carbonera-type pasta, they actually serve you a plate of and then dribble a cream sauce over it, mix it up and let ya get after it. Well, I’m no NYT Food Critic so excuse the crap outta me if I don’t have all the deets (like the name). Suffice to say it was awesome as well. I have a feeling you can’t really go wrong with anything on the entire menu.

Plus, the guys behind the bar were super friendly, gave us great service, reco’d an exellent Amarone for moi and all-in-all Scarpetta rocked it. Go!

So sure I get sucked in by the new hot spot just like the next girl. Whoever does PR for Super Linda…call me! If you can spin that crap I can’t imagine what you could do for me! You’re #1 on the Eater Heat Map (hey, just a heat map, not a reco), and solid buzz everywhere. I didn’t really get it, but figured that much buzz for a tapas-ish spot in TriBeCa…even with the poor Yelps (those cheap bitches) how bad could it be? A: That bad, kittens.

OK I’ll give ‘em this – a 6′ model seated us right on time. I didn’t think that’d be the highlight. And in retrospect I deduce that they can seat people on time because so many people leave before the meal is even served! Curious? Read on:

So we glide in like the rock stars we are, get seated by attentive, attractive people and look around. The decor? Not all that, but pretty cool. Then our dude (AKA waiter) takes our order. Nice enough guy but a rookie. Doesn’t really know the menu but plays it off by talking really loud. So we make it easy on the guy: Croqeuttas ($10) with Smoked Chicken & Truffles, Tostadas ($8) with Sweet Corn, Lime Mayo and Cojito Cheese, and the Rib Eye ($40), the most expensive thing on the menu. I’m mentioning that because a) we ordered it RARE! which meant labor costs should be minimal and 2) ALWAYS expedite the most expensive thing on the menu, bitches!

So. Sooo. Sooooo. Sooooooo. Soooooooo. Soooooooooo. Oh. Sorry. But that’s kinda representative of how our time at SUPER LINDA went. Yeah, we finally got our drink. And then after a good long while out Croquetas, which tasted like nothing. Not like smoked chicken, not like truffles. Kinda like ordinary cheese. But hey, we ate them as it was slightly better than starving. The Tostadas? Not bad, actually. Atta boy, SUPER LINDA!

And then….crickets. Our waiter? Averting his (or is it our) gaze. Again…and again..“Hey buddy!” I’d plead. In my most conversational and friendly tone BTW. Still…Crickets.

So after 1+ hours post order, and no “hey guys, sorry it’s taking a bit longer than anticipated…” (which said response could cure many of the world’s ailments and would certainly have given us the oppy to at least order another drink! ), and knowing as we do order flow and that there just weren’t that many people still ordering food, we gave our dude one last try to look us in the eye and fess up that they were f’d up and he didn’t so we got up. And at that point all hell broke loose. “Holy Mother of God They Are Leaving!’ and people came outta the woodwork. Our waiter: “It’s not my fault” which, in a way I get, but all he had to do was not ignore us so I gave him a verbal bitch slap about customer service and that it was, in a way, his fault. Also told him to read Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential. Hope it helped. The owner (?) and Maitre D came out as well, comped us the non-existent Rib Eye (gee, thanks) and apologized semi-profusely. I tried to give them a basic ‘new biz-setting expectations-maybe ya throw an extra appy at people when the back ‘o the house is on fire-good luck! pep talk.

And I threw still too much of a tip at them and ran out for a slice of pie on some corner.

So SUPER LINDA! I know it’s tough to open a new place, and hope you get yer act together and start acting up to your name!

Anyhoo, even being a fair amount more timid this time, BKK was still a shock to the ‘ol nervous system after such a laid back time at Koh Jum Beach Villas.

But hey don’t take that as a complaint or whine, we did this on our own volition. It’s just that we typically plan the crazy city part on the front end of our vacays, and then melt into sea and sand on the back end. Waaahhhh! Oh the humanity!

So we land in BKK after a very short little hop from Krabi. Immediately I was shocked. Where were the throngs of sweaty people in the terminal? Dunno. It was eerily quiet. During the taxi ride into town where were the interminable traffic jams? Dunno. Did they all get swept out to sea? Oops. Sorry. Everything just seemed a little different than my previous visit. Then when we got out and took a deep breath of air…wait let’s try that again. Air? When we got out and inhaled deeply, where was the pollution? Oh yeah, deep into our lungs and nostrils. One thing seems not to have changed from my last visit. I think ‘smog ball catch’ is an official sport here. This place has a carbon footprint the size of the Reclining Buddha. But let’s dwell on the positives, shall we? Here’s the run down on our roughly 3 days in this cool exotic city:

Day 1/2:

So I like said before, we land at the airport feelin’ fresh, and check into our fancy-schmancy pad at Peninsula Bangkok, right on the Chao Praya river. Not particularly VdV style, it’s more like a place you’d put your ‘rents in if ya really wanted to impress and make up for all those years of paying your tuition, putting clothes on your back, and bailing you out of jail that one night. But that said, it’s pretty shwank, the people are sweet (doi, they’re Thai), and our huge suite overlooked the river and the city beyond. Hey, no complaints! But wait…the woman who checked us in…poor thing…her name is Supaporn…ouch. But I’m sure it means something very regal in teh Thai.

We were a bit hungry so grabbed a casual lunch at the hotel café on the river. We ate a tasty Chicken & Lemongrass Salad, some delish Satay and a drink or three, watching the myriad longboats, water taxis and barges somehow not plow into each other. This pic does not do it justice. Actually this picture really sucks. Sorry. Wait. Did I just say ‘myriad’?

Y’know something? I can’t get that damn Snoop Dogg/Wiz song ‘Livin’ young and wild and free…‘ song outta my head. You know the one…you know something else weird? The palms of both my hands are peeling like mad. And I didn’t even touch that monkey back in Koh Jum.

So after lunch, we Water Taxi across the river and simply…roam the city. It’s expansive. We get lost. But then everything starts looking up when we find a Mexican bar on Silom Street that actually carried decent tequila and mixed a mean ‘rita. Yay! Then we roamed the food stalls, weird little nick-nack shops, J buys an awesome sarong for the hefty sum of about $6, then gets fitted for two smokin’ Thai silk dresses for $180 total (after some shrewd bickering from yours truly).

Later that night we catch din din at a place the Peninsula concierge called ‘one of the best Thai restaurants in BKK’: Baan Khanitha & Gallery. Hmm, maybe if the closest thing you’ve had to Thai food is a roll at Panda Express. Oh well…it was…fine…but ‘fine’ doesn’t cut it, bitches! I prolly shoulda told Mr. Concierge to check out VdV.com first to get a better understanding what we define as superlative.

We eat and run outta there and hit a rooftop bar called, fittingly Sky Bar. OK, not just a ‘rooftop bar’. This is prolly one of the most killer rooftop bars EVER. 63rd Floor of a hotel/office building called The State Building & Dome at Lebua. Place has views that kill. If ya get vertigo stay back from the edge at least a few feet. Good mixed crowd, mainly whities (oops. ‘westerners’) though, some random whores (doi, it’s Bangkok). And hey, stop the hatin’ because I didn’t refer to them as ‘prostitutes’, ‘ladies (maybe, check that Adam’s Apple) of the night’, or even ‘hookers’. There’s no disrespect intended  as I’m sure it’s not the #1 career choice for most of ‘em, I just prefer the term ‘whores’, and use it judiciously in all kinds of situations. Just like I prefer ‘barf’ over ‘vomit’, ‘throw up’ or ‘tossed his/her cookies’. It’s just me. Deal with it. I will apologize for the watermark on the photo I ripped off.

Anyhoo, this has to be onna the most rocking outdoor bars on Buddah’s green earth. Just so happens to be the bar where Hangover 2 was filmed. Watch it. Live it. Love it. I haven’t watched it yet, but feel I may be 2 fer 3. So what’d I have? A Hangover-tini of course. Awesome! R Rai Vah, you ask? (definition here, it’s my fave new saying I learned from our buds in Koh Jum). Well, sailor, it’s made from Whiskey, Sweet Vermouth, Green Apple Juice and rosemary-infused Honey. With a rosemary sprig. I think the damn thing cost about $35. USD kittens! Oh, a bit of background for ya: This is where much of Hangover 2 was shot. So 1) That’s why they have a drink named the Hangovertini, and b) why they charge so f’ing much for it! I think I just repeated myself.

Day 1 1/2:

We sleep in a bit, then drag our carcasses outta bed and hang on the balcony, watching the river dance again. It’s sunny, but not a scorcher. The weather in January is as close to bearable as it gets. Nice, low ’80s-90s, and you don’t melt like a grilled cheese sando on a hot skillet the second you walk outside. We get a little exercise (inside gym) to sweat out the baddies from the pm before, and we get ready for round 2.

I make the mistake of picking up the paper, with the headline proclaiming a major terror threat against whities, er, ‘westerners’ in Bangkok. Fun!

So today I want to go on a boat ride! Wats can wait until tomorrow. Plus are the terrorists really gonna bomb a longboat with only 2 people on it? The hot J acquiesces, which was cool ‘cuz I don’t know if it was her first choice of activities. Yay! So SupaPorn arranges a long boat and the two of us (no, not me and SupaPorn, me and J!)  cruise around the canals where the ‘real people’ live as they say. Nice being on the water, but I would not want to fall overboard. Forget drowning I think your skin would simply peel off. Pretty cool little trip, tooling around the various canals and waterways and wondering how much the recent flooding must have messed with these poor people big time. Ya see all modes of life, about 15% very nice accommodations, 60% working class and 25%…Yipes!

After that, a foot massage. These people, and most of SEA seems to really be into foot massages. Or at least giving them which is all I care about. And then a fitting for J’s 2 silk dresses. Whew, what a day;)

For dinner, I am choosing, not the concierge. We jet off to a place I read about on the Bangkok Luxe Guides called Hazara, a North Indian place. And seriously, after 8 straight days * 3 squares per day of Thai food, we needed to mix it up a bit…with Indian food! It’s a long taxi ride out, but worth every bit. I mean, Baht. Great meal, very cool space, chatted up some crazy expats at the bar. The layout is awesome, multi-level with rough-hewn timbers and decorated like an old Emperor’s lodge. Kinda like NYC’s Spice Market on steroids. We dined on Veggie & Lamb Somosas, Lamb Skewers, excellent Chicken Tikka and Khorma Naan.. All served with kick-ass sauces. Yummy! I highly recommend Hazara if you’re in town.

Then off to one of BKK’s ‘recreational’ areas, Soi Cowboy. I hear they have live female vs. she-male ping pong matches going pretty much 24/7. And no paddles necessary! I’m gonna stop there. If ya get my drift, great. If not…that’s probably even better. The block long Soi Cowboy area is actually kinda sad, and at this ‘mature’ point in our lives loses its novelty in about 12 minutes. Damn it sucks being mature.  We both wanted to take Purell showers after just cruising from one end to the other. Wait. Not ‘cruise’, walked. Let’s keep that straight! Sorry, no pics!

Day 2 1/2:

Today we go Wat-ing! Translation: Wat = Temple, Gomer. No matter what type of heathen you may be, it’s basically mandatory to visit a couple centuries-old Wats. Dang we picked a dripping hot day for exploring Wats and being surrounding by throngs of other sweaty people. Ugh. We selected two of the most famous: Wat Pho (home of the Reclining Buddah) and the Grand Palace (home of the Temple of the Buddha). The reclining Buddha is huge. The Buddha housed in the The Temple of the Buddha is just a little guy. OK, enough history!

After that, we go to our hotel pool, have some bevvies, a little dip and even a short nap in the shade.

Early evening we grab cocktails at the famed Mandarin Oriental (b-o-r-i-n-g) then off to the trifecta of Distil – Sirocco -Sky Bar at ‘The Dome @ State Tower’ A.K.A. ‘The Place Where Hangover 2 Was Filmed’ just so we could really blow some $$. Unreal, the main bar manager at Distil (the indoor area of the 63rd floor) remembered us and exactly what we drank the second we walked in…then dinner outside on an awesome night at Sirocco – Artichoke Ravioli w/ Smoked Salmon and…FOAM. Then, Mushroom Risotto with…FOAM. King Crab, Hand Rolled Gnocchi and FOAM…9-pt Marbled Wagyu Tenderloin (rare, bitches!) with…FOAM!! Arrrghhhhh! Shit, I think the (extremely expensive) bill was covered in FOAM. I f’ing HATE FOAM! Keep it to yourself Wylie Dufrense wannabee!

Then, the highlight of the entire Bangkok trip: our good bud Bo K. (last name concealed to protect his identity. Unless you just search for Bo K in our Facebook. Oops!), that we met and really dug when we lived in Paris 10+ years ago, came over and met us at Sky Bar. He moved here 5+ years ago, met a great girl, popped out a beautiful baby. So he whisked us outta Sky Bar to an awesome place called Q Bar, where I think he may be the mayor. Suddenly ‘reserved’ tables opened up, girls girls girls and bottles of Grey Goose and Red Bull materialized. Next thing I knew it was almost 4a. FUN! ’nuff said. Hey, we were tame, and treated the whole thing like a spectator sport!

Last 1/2 day:

Peel the contacts ouuta my bloodshot eyes, order some spicy Thia noodle soup and strong coffee for breakfast and wonder R Rai Vah happened last night. We don’t have a ton of time this AM, so, haste makes waste & we pop a bottle of bubbly and pack our bags.

We kill that bottle in record time, then jet off to the airport for some serious pre-flight bevvies before the completely f’d up BKK>Taipei>SFO trip in front of us. Thank you, Ambien!

So, after a 27-hour, Ambien & alcohol-fueled, 3 plane segment (SF>Taipei; Taipei>Bangkok; Bangkok>Krabi), then an hour taxi to some funky little wharf outside Krabi, then an hour or so boat trip in this longboat with a 1970′s Chevy V8 strapped to it, we lumbered onto the lovely sands of Koh Jum, and the awesome, eco-friendly yet still luxurious, small – only ~10 villas- and aptly named Koh Jum Beach Villas. WTF is Koh Jum, you ask? Right here:

Baan Madelaine, to be exact as to the name of our villa (click on the little blue underline, called a ‘hyperlink’ for pix). It’s the best villa here, and this place is, bien sur, the most killer spot on the Koh. We’re talkin’ right on the beach, with a central house and two separate bedroom pods for some…privacy* So, for you impatient ones, here’s the bottom line: 1) Get yer asses to this island!, and b) Don’t stay anywhere else but Koh Jum Beach Villas.

The charming and attractive couple Chris and Severin run this place (nope that’s not them to the left, that’s the other J), give it an air of easy luxury and make ya feel right at home. But let’s face it, your hovel is no where close to as cool as this! I think it has just made our ‘we gotta come here every year’ list. And just like we are Pizza Bitches, we have become the worst kind of Hotel Snobs. So take our word here. I mean, it’s like “Shirt? Shoes? NO service”, the epitome of relaxed upscale coolness. Damn I love that word, epitome. Calliope too.

About the only knock we have is, at least this time of year and maybe it was caused by some freak gravitational pull of the moon, is when it’s low tide, it’s l-o-w. Low like in that Usher song. Low, low, low, low, low. So time your swims appropriately, bitches! And if it’s low, quit whining and go to the bar…or get the best massage ever for the grand total of $10…or, or…you get it.

OK, back to the deets:

*Oh yeah, by ‘we’ and ‘privacy‘ it’s not just us two kids this time around. That’s right, we broke our cardinal rule of traveling solo (except to Capri with our sadistic best friend Barry who damn near killed us on a boat trip gone wrong), and teamed up with our rock and roll, more ‘mature’ and ‘responsible’ buds Bob & Jane. We’re even sharing the villa! OMG!

And partly due to this fact, we’ve entitled this portion of our trip ‘Rehab Island: Koh Jum’

Now all we need is that douche Dr. Drew or Jeff Probst to make an appearance. (I say ‘this portion’ of the trip only because after our week-long stay here we’re off to Bangkok for 72 hours – look for that post next!)

But before that rigmarole, let’s set the record straight – of course we can and do drink in front of, and with, Bob & Jane. They’re not teetotalers or some bible-thumping freaks that think alcohol is the devil’s brew. They drink. But we…DRINK. Feel me? All I’m saying is, I’m amazed at the amount of booze we haven‘t consumed the past few days!

So you might be curious, “then whatdya do there, VdV?” Well, we had no clue either. My first fear was that I’d die of boredom in a pool of my own sweat; but contrary to rampant online rumors, I’m pleased to say that didn’t happen.

One reason is, January is the best month to be here, only gets into the high 80s daytime, low 70s at night. Not bad on the humidity front either. Just lovely. OK, I’m not stupid Christina Loren or anything and this isn’t weather channel, so let’s move on, shall we?

As we’re sure you know, when we’re hittin’ the road we sometimes do a day-by-day diary-like post  (to the best of our feeble minds’ abilities. We just make the rest up). But this is the islands, mon. Chill. This is “What’d we do yesterday? How ’bout we do that again today? Works for me.” type of action. So here’s the basic daily modus operandi here:

1) Wake up listening to and looking at the crystal clear Andaman Sea (do we have a picture? do we have a picture?! Ummm, no.)

b) Roll outta bed and into aforementioned sea for a swim. Our version of bathing. The water is perfect, clear and just warm enough so I don’t get those embarrassing nipple hard-ons, yet cool enough to be refreshing. Yee Haw!

3) Come back and voila!, there is fresh fruit for us to nosh on. Thanks Jane!

4) Buzz kill alert! Get online and knock out a little work to keep those pesky clients and investors at bay. Waaahhhh!

6) Lay on the beach. Or at least lay somewhere.

f) Grab lunch. This place has an awesome little restaurant called Urban Café where we’ve eaten every meal except for one (which was a mistake). Needless to say, this family serves up incredible Woon Sen (spicy glass noodles w/ shrimp), Crab fried rice in a carved out Pineapple, Laab spring rolls, whatever the fishing boat just hauled in and  Pad Thai. Or when in Thailand, should I just call it ‘Pad’?

A little Kindle Fire action – Yes I’m actually reading a book, to finally put to rest all those accusations of illiteracy (did I spell that right?).  Kitchen Confidential by my man Anthony Bourdain. Fave line so far “Your body is not a temple. It’s an amusement park” Well played! Second best line: “As soon as I stopped doing heroin, my life got really bad” Wow. Next on the reading list is Jobs’ bio, but it seems a bit daunting and maybe not that funny.

P.S.A. Time: Notice anything? That’s right, kittens. No mention of another good pal of ours, alcohol. I mean typically #b above would have been replaced with ‘slam a bloody mary ‘ or at least a Mimosa. What is this island doing to us?! Also, NO TV. I cannot believe we happily survived KJ sans TV and a serious reduction in alcohol consumption.. Thanks to engaging conversation with Bob & Jane (and our Kindle Fire loaded up with books, magazines & Family Guy) for helping us cling on to our version of sanity.

g) OK, here we go…game time. What we’d been waiting for all day: toss back a few adult bevvies at Koh Jum resort bar, the place just down the beach. Get some sun on our faces and watch the lovely J transform into a mad sort of Annie Lebowitz meets Ansel whoever, y’know that guy was that takes all the Yosemite pix (almost all photo credits go to her). She just starts snappin’ away, and may have discovered her next career!

n) Pop a bottle of bubbly with Bob & Jane and watch another ‘the most awesome sunset ever’ (each day better than the last), while often listening to a chorus (or cacophony) of Cicadias, we think cousins of the Locust, shrieking from the trees. Cool, actually. Unless one flies into your ‘noggin like happened to Jane. I got up to help, but those bastards don’t scare easily. I do.

13) Grab din din back at Urban Cafe. Pure awesomeness, all family-run. Fresh fish right off the boats, curries so hot they’ll blow yer head clean off, yummy spring rolls, crab in a pineapple (yup), even Thai Pizza. Pizza w/ chicken and spicy stuff on it. All lip smackin’ good. I think between the 4 of us we literally ate the entire menu, then we made our way back through. Bonus – they don’t allow shoes!

14) Stop by the bar sans B&J and hang with our new BTF (Best Thai Friends) Ohdd and Aht…something like that. I’m going phonetic here, kittens. I have no idea how to really spell their names, or even what their real names may be. I would suspect many more syllables. This is just what we were told to call them. Anyhoo, these 2 could have their own comedy show and are the coolest. Plus Aht is a fierce fire dancer.

So we’d kick back and chat about things like  their experience with the crazy Tsunami a few years back, where they huddled on a mountaintop for a week waiting for helicopters to drop food to them, and other stuff.  They taught us some Thai language each night, from basic language structure stuff structure like “Ka” and “Kap” meaning either feminine or masculine inflection. But here, it’s not who you are referring to, it’s about who YOU are.

So I, as a full-fledged male (last time I had a physical), was sternly warned to make sure not to say something like “Sawadee Ka” or anything with “Ka” after it even when speaking to a woman, because I would really be telling people “Hello, and I’m a girlie boy”. Thanks for the warning guys! Bizzare. But hey I respect it. So as a dude, suffix everything with “Kap”, like “Sawadee Kap.” Meaning, I’m greeting you and telling you I’m a guy. Seems more useful in Bangkok actually if ya get my drift. Anyhoo, that just got boring and maybe even a tad confusing.

On our last night, we taught them “Va Fangulo” and they reciprocated with “R Rai Vah” (say it: R – Ray – Waah)’, my newest fave expression (yes, you guessed it: ‘What The Fuck!?’). If you’re feeling frothy you can even add “Ceere” (Kee – Ray) for a “WTF Bitch!?” and really impress the locals!

15) Consider a late night swim or at least stroll on the beach. Or just pour a glass of wine. Or a Vodka + Sprite. Whatever. Dang boy, I was so happy the lovely, and way more intelligent J, persuaded me to pick up a couple grips of Vodka in the BKK airport.

z) Crawl into bed under the mosquito netting (which can double to keep out barking frogs, cute little geckos and who knows what else) with a nightcap and watch a dumb movie or episode of Family Guy or Always Sunny in Philly on the Kindle. Dude…Family Guy: The Hand That Rocks The Wheelchair is petty twisted! Up there with the one where Stewie & Brian get locked in the bank vault. Classic!

Repetitive? Perhaps. Shouldn’t good things be? This place is now on our list of annual vacay spots to hit! And bonus!, the Baht (Thai currency you plebian) is worth about 3 pennies here. So once you’re here food, lodging, boats…whatever you’re into, are quite economical.

But hey, it wasn’t all ‘tardo laziness either, we did do some extra-curricular activities that rocked. And may even be less boring than reading about us tucking ourselves into bed each night. Wanna hear it? Here it go:

• Snorkeling! Dang, I’ve been all over the world and this place is tops. The four of us rented a long boat for a full day for about $100 (incl lunch) and treated the Andaman Sea like our bitch. Bamboo Island (didn’t see any bamboo, but great fish) Mosquito Island (again, no bugs, but awesome diving), Monkey Island (not great diving but a shitload of grimy primates, and I’m not talkin’ the German tourists). That said, Monkey Beach that the most fine, pure white sand either of us had ever seen.

The best snorkeling I’ve seen, at least. So may awesome fish – Parrot fish, Angel fish, Triggers, hell I think I even caught a glimpse of the reclusive Abe Vigoda (Look it up, young ‘un). Plus cool anenome, blah blah. Nice warm clear water and decent coral action. We hit Koh Phi Phi as well, just so I could grab some Baht from an ATM (skip it, way overrun unless you are in desperate need of cash).

• Thai-style massages. For the staggering sum of $10 USD get pushed, pulled, poked and twisted like ya did something to piss her off.  And love every minute of it! I am officially sold on the Thai massage, screw that BS deep tissue crap they sell you on in the states! It was kinda weird when she told me to say “I’ve been a bad boy” but other than that;) she transformed me into almost super-human status.

• Kayaking up and down the coast. Pretty chill way to get some core exercise in, my little ones. And sneak a couple Singha along with you, so much the better!

OK you VdV disciples sorry for the 2000+ word count post! But hey, it’s been awhile. Doesn’t it just give you the warm and fuzzies to be back in touch again?

Next: 72 Hours in Bangkok!

OK this is a prior review I never posted that I just found in drafts. Aye aye aye I must be losing what’s left of my feeble mind. That said we’ve been back, enjoyed many more meals of rare cuts of Filet – just a week or so ago we had another great meal and did the “Crackhead Crazy Expensive Filet Trio Eat-Off” ($195). Ask for it by name! Dang it was tasty. (From left to right) Hailing from New Mexico the Lone Mountain Wagyu vs. a Cabassi Wagyu from the land down under vs. a Japanese Miyagi Perfecture. From Under Meat. Eww. Ha. But au contraire´mon ami, all three rocked it with the Lone Mountain coming in first by a hair. No, not really a hair, it was just a close call. All good, but this night at least the Japanese cut needed to be different cut perhaps, the texture was good but not quite enough taste, esp. when you’re paying about $25 a bite! This is a fun meal to have occasionally so splurge. Or have someone treat you! We also had the Truffle Fries ($12), cooked in duck fat bien sur, Wild Mushrooms ($14), pass on these and a terrific Steak Tartare ($18). Yup, Steak tartare as an appetizer to a Filet Trio. That’s some nasty carnivore action!

Please, read on for the original review!

Bacar, we loved ya. You brought sexy to SoMa back in the day. But then you just didn’t age well, kinda like Kenny Rogers.

So out with the old and welcome to the ‘hood, Alexander! And smart move keeping that killer wine storage:)

So we saddled up to the bar the other night. Nope not the bar bar, the kitchen bar. We love kitchen bars – chat chitting with the cooks, seeing the preparation, the operations and in the case last night getting lots of free vittles to boot! As in a Smoked Escarole appy, which had excellent texture and spice, as well as a complete lack of fishiness that resulted in even the other (non sushi-ish fan) J being a fan. More? A Scallop and Crab Lumpia dish, with super-sweet tiny scallops and a generous lump of crab, deep fried and succulent. And the Hamachi shots are unreal.

So we were greeted a tout de suite by Sean, a very cool, fun guy who acted as our main server, but is in fact a GM. Opened up the SF location, and was at the Cupertino location for years. Knows his meat, if you know what I mean. Good, ‘cuz I don’t know what I mean.

Wait, there is some seriously tasty B&T people watching at this joint too. Night of the living whores. Awesome watching these dudes with their dates in 5″ heels (yes, some clear) trying to walk the stairs to the bathrooms. Worth the price of admission alone! I guess the night before some guy came in and…wait for it…had his ‘date’ on a cat leash. I wonder if they brought her a bowl.

So we had not eaten all day. That is, except for a serving of kick-ass Steak Tartare at Epic Roasthouse an hour before. Meat meat meat meat. The dance of meat. It may be a jig, actually. So of course our next stop is a Steakhouse! By the by, Alexander’s has an equally awesome Tartare as well.

So we ordered up the Iceberg Wedge ($10) with Bacon & Bleu (yeah I spell it French) Cheese, not even a healthy tomato in sight! How was it? It’s an f-ing Iceberg Wedge, you cretin, of course it was good!

Then we had Tony’s Potatoes ($9), which rocked the house. Gratin, kittens. Yummy.

We had some Sauteed Mushrooms ($14)…hmm, this was the one thing that was kinda blah. Tasteless. Skip it. Then WTF did I get it again the next time we went (read above…)? I’m kinda dumb I guess. But hey, we’re not here to graze on veggies, let’s get on with it!

Wait. Yes, surprise, surprise we did have some beverages. And we started with Sangria with Beets?! WTF? That’s TF, people. This was odd, good and semi-earthy. They also have a solid BTG (by the glass, keep up) wine list – we hit the Nebbiolo and Grenache, the Reussiac Sauternes and 20 Year Grahams Tawny.

Oh yeah, THE MEAT. There goes that jig again. So these guys have tons of delish meat. Doi. It’s not called a Steakhouse for nuthin’. But something in particular caught my bloodshot, beady little eyes…The Tajina F1 Filet ($125). What is it? “It’s a rare (as in scarce) cut of Filet Mignon”. What else is it? “One Hundred And Twenty-Five Dollas“. Anything else to add? “Why yes, and thanks for asking. The best f’ing steak we’d had in memory”.  Say it with me. R-A-R-E! So is it worth $125 bones? Every day – no? On occasion? Hells yeah!

Oh yeah, the Cotton Candy they serve for dessert…cute…I guess. But not for moi. Anyhoo, go!

Crust! It’s not a dirty word anymore. Crust is king. Yeah I know I’ve said toppings are king. I say lotsa things. Ask my friends & clients. But anyone can go get some San Marzanos, a little dried oregano, some bufala mozzy and basil, and have a fighting chance of making an edible pie. Plus that’s just good sourcing. And nothing against excellent ingredients, I mean they are absolutely necessary.

But the crust. Yes you can use double zero flour, filtered water, corn meal if you’re a hack. And whole wheat flour if you’re a real hack, at least according to a certain chef by the name of Sarah B:) But seriously  you really don’t have much to fool around with. It’s a classic ‘fiddle vs. fiddler’ debate. And lemme tell ya kittens there’s some serious fiddlin’ going on at Joe’s Pizza. My picture doesn’t do it justice! Dammit Jim I’m a Pizza Bitch not a Photographer!

So we scampered over to this funky little shack the other day, even though we had just strapped on the feedbags at…hell I can’t remember where…I’ll have to check my Foursquare log-ins…anyhoo, we had to have a slice of pie that none other than the greatest dramatic actor in the world Kevin Bacon (uhh…did you see My Dog Skip?). Ha, me neither. Then maybe Footloose or The River Wild? How’s that, punk?!

Oh yeah, back to Mssrs. Bacon and WTF that has to do with Joe’s Pizza: In response to a question from the most editorially respected magazine going, Maxim, who asked him “What would be your last meal?” KeBa responded “A slice of pizza from Joe’s on Carmine Street in NYC!” How’s that beeeyotch!

And while VdV might not take it quite that far (Del Posto, Le Jules Verne, anyone?! I mean I want my least meal to last awhile) we do concur that this pizza kicks some serious hiney. We grabbed a slice of the Fresh Mozzy ($3.50) and it brung it strong on all fronts – nice big blobs of fresh Mozzarella, melted just so; a sauce I would say is zesty and slightly sweet all at the same time and very fresh, I think made out of Cali vs. San Marzano tomatoes; all on a crust fit for the gods. I added a little crushed red pepper just to make it my own.

But back to the crust: Miraculously Joe (yup, good ‘ol Joe’s still making pies since 1975) tosses it very thin. I dunno how he does this, but it comes out pliable enough for the whole NY fold-over style of eating but still with a crispiness to it. I can hear ya now, I know I’ve said the best pizza is napoli style and it should be thin and ever-so-slightly chewy, not crisp. Well…1) Like I said before (refer to the first paragraph) I say lotsa things, and b) we’re not in Napoli are we Silvio?

And for all ya haters, if you don’t wanna take Kevin Bacon’s, GQs (Top 25 Pizzas in the world) or, clutch my pearls VinDivine’s word for it…then take it from Kelly Ripa!

“This is the one. This is where you wanna come for the best slice of pizza in Manhattan.”

And you can tell that’s a woman that hits the pies hard.

And if ya know shit from shinola (whatever the hell that means), you’ll know that J&J don’t often do the whole gastronomique thing. We’re more the ‘belly up to the bar and strap on the…feedbag, perv!

Mario, I know VdV gave you some shit about our experience at Esca. Maybe it was a case of the bar being set too darned high from all the killer reviews that place gets. Then we hit Otto (review to follow soon) where the lovely J was underwhelmed by the pizza. So when we made resies for the two of us + our stylin’ friends Kim & Marc, it was not without trepidation. We don’t wanna go 0 fer 3 with ya! Wait. You don’t want you goin’ 0 for 3 with VdV! That’s right.

Soo, bitches. How was Del Posto? Well, since this was a four+hour feed-fest, this review should oblige in kind. Meaning, if ya know us, we’d bore you to tears with detail and ADD-driven rants. But VdV likes to zig where others zag, so we’re gonna cut to the chase. Don’t get used it it!

Like I said, this was a marathon feed-and-drink fest, 10p-to after 2a. Hear that SF!? 2 AM. Nighttime! And it was divine. VIN divine I may say. Seriously, I’ll spill the beans right now and letcha know we bestow (sing it with me) Del Posto (keep it going, even though it doesn’t really rhyme) the gilted VdV 4.5-star rating! Woo Hoo! Pop a bottle, Batali! OK, 2 Thumbs Up will suffice. I’m sure we’ve made your day.  Frank Bruni who?

What’d we eat? What’d we eat? What does it matter! Eat the menu. Literally. It’ll make you weak in the knees. No, not like Mario ‘cuz he’s about 100 lbs overweight. Because it’s scrump-dili-umptious, sucka! Photos? We don’t need no stinking photos! (OK I lost my iPhone that night). We did the Tasting Menu ($115), which has changed by now anyway. Everything was prepared excellently, beautifully presented and tasted heavenly. That’s right I said heavenly!

So if you haven’t crawled out from under that rock of yours, this is an Italian joint. Ha. Joint. This place is pretty upscale. Big ‘ol NY spot, definitely not hip, but OTT traditional in design with a large piano, big ‘ol stairwell, and kinda out of the ’50s glamour type of vibe. Pretty cool. And the service rocks. They know when to be there and when to get out the way.  And…what else? Lets just suffice to say I’m not gonna articulate the experience and we’ll just move on, shall we?

In addition to the delish Tasting Menu, we found (after several cocktails) a kick-ass Nero D’Avolo on the wine list. MB, ya had me there. I love Sicilians and their wines.

Post Tasting Menu gorging? You thought we’d be done? This was an expense report dinner, people, come on! We then had the famous Rum & Chocolate pairing ($70). Something like 5 high-end Rums, all very different in their ‘taste profile’ each paired with a chocolate. Oh man, the pairing with whatever run it was and that salted choco was killer.

So like I said, this was an EPIC meal. And the bill matched it. So don’t come here if you are prone to cheap attacks. Come here with that friend of yours that just scored the big raise. Or the Trust Fund kid that just got her first distribution. Whatever, rob someone at gunpoint. Just go!

Chef Perry Hoffman runs a tight ship and prepares some of the most delicious, inventive and…downright puuurrty…dishes going.

For some reason I’m not in a very chatty mood so let’s just get into it, shall we?

It’s a very nice beautiful setting with lotsa windows and natural light. Very nice but not stuffy, feel me?

We chowed down on:
Bubbly of course, suckas! A glass (ha, right just one glass do you know me?!) of the étoile rosé for starters, along with an appy I would never ever ever order but they brought it anyway and I must admit I loved: The Seared Sonoma Foie Gras ($23 if ya pay for it) with Pickled Yellow Peaches and Brioche. This stuff was awesome. I apologize to all the geese out there who suffered, and their friends and family, but at least your discomfort was not for naught. The searing made it. Gave it an incredible texture (i.e. not slimy), a slight smokiness and just rocked it. All you haters, throw your SPCA ‘tude outta tha door for a minute, suck it up and enjoy!

Then, we had the most puurrty dish I may have seen in recent memory (no comments about my memory): the Yellowtail Tartare, I don’t think this is always on the menu. It was awesome! And I would describe it in agonizing detail but why when we can just look:

Are you serious?! It looked great and tasted even better. Yum!

Then, the Liberty Farms Duck Confit ($26) with Black Mission Figs, Glazed Eggplant & Padron Peppers. That’s duck cooked in duck fat suckas. That’s rich. And so is this duck. Tender buttery lusciousness. Dang, I guess had something out for the winged creatures that day I guess!

To finish (hell it was only lunch time), I had the Autumn Black Truffle Pappardelle ($26) with Heirloom Beans and El Trigal Manchego. I paired this bad boy with a Newton Unflitered Pinot Noir I believe. Well, well. Here’s another reason why this place rocks: this was a perfect portion that tasted perfect.

Chef Perry adjusts the portion and mix of ingredients from lunch to supper. So for lunch, it was  agreat portion, but not too much of the wide, semi-chewy yet tender pasta. Lots of fresh pea shoots, beans and a righteous amount of black truffle. But not so heavy that ya wanna go pass out. And the dish was incroyable!

Bonus! Then a huge rainstorm came (great for us to watch as it delayed our departure and necessitated an vino refill, bad for the chardonnay vines during harvest time), had an espresso,  and signed some business. Yee haw!

Hey, this place has an awesome reputation for good reason. The service is spot-on, the atmosphere is sophisticated yet casual enough, and the food is amazing.

Big VdV hint: Eat here then spend the rest of the day wine tasting and spa-ing and spend the night at the equally awesome Bardessono Hotel & Spa. Life is short – live it large!