Wouldn’t you know it? I started my Typepad account in July 2004 as an outlet for my two biggest obsessions — music and food… and then did nothing with it for a whole year. (You know how it goes.) The very first week I decide to finally get this site going, some well-dressed dude from Scotland (via Greece) goes and steals my site’s name for a weekly column in England’s best daily that doesn’t feature nude women, The Guardian.
Isn’t it enough that he’s in one of the biggest bands in the indie-verse, has a cool girlfriend, and has the best clothes just given to him? I guess people want to read about such culinary adventures. People would include me, but I just wish he’d come up with a different name. In fact, I can suggest a totally better name. How about "Take Me Out"? That totally works, and it would remind people of that his band had a song called that. Because people might have forgotten.
In fairness, Alex Kapranos did used to be a line cook or a waiter or something, 12 years ago, and he can probably get into places like Megu or Per Se on a whim AND actually afford to pay the bill. But still. Anyway, call me Mr. Jealous. Here’s a sample from his food writer debut…
I took a sip of the wine.
It was wrong. I watched my friends as they swigged. They had almost
finished their glasses. Maybe I was imagining it. I took another sip.
It was definitely wrong. It tasted like mouldy old tent with mushrooms
and vinegar. Corked. My friends topped up, too drunk to notice. I felt
horrible and awkward, overwhelmed by that stupid British fear of
complaining and drawing attention to yourself. I timidly caught the eye
of the wine waiter and murmured, "Is this supposed to taste like this?"
To find out whether the wine was indeed supposed to taste like mouldy old tent or not, you’re just gonna to have to read his piece. Moving on to another of the five senses, Franz Ferdinand’s new album, You Could Have it So Much Better…, is actually really quite good. Must this guy have EVERYTHING?