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corner office: a review
Yesterday, the Brooklyn Nets, and today, some Taos restauranteurs from Brooklyn.
(I told you I mean to write about everything, and this should prove it.)
As a travel writer for APE, I reviewed restaurants as far flung as North London, New Orleans, and South Mission Beach.
NYC-style pizza slice from a beach-side joint in San Diego. Corner Office opened up in Taos late Summer 2022, in one of the two least-successful-restaurant-locations we’ve got.
Having worked in the restaurant business for years, I call them “dead spots.”
Locations that turn over, again and again, because there’s always some sucker who thinks she/he/they are smart enough to buck the trend.
(Or perhaps she/he/they didn’t do the homework to learn the history?)
In Taos, there’s a place across from the movie theater, and it’s turned over 8 times since we moved back in 2005.
(For real.)
The other Taos spot that’s clearly cursed is upstairs, in the far back corner of Taos Plaza.
It’s impossible to see from the Plaza, hard to see from the road, and therefore tricky to find, despite being in the middle of it all.
Like a little vortex that somehow rebuffs all the tourist dollars swirling by.
I absolutely recall watching Keith Van Horn play for a bad Nets team, on a sports-bar-satellite-TV there, back when the place was owned by David Leffel‘s daughter.
(So we can date that at 1998 or ’99.)
Don’t think I was there again until late October, when my wife and I joined another couple for dinner at Corner Office, as they’d been there once before.
My new friend had recently moved from Brooklyn, and knew of the Chef/owner couple, Jori Jayne Emde and Zackary Pelaccio, as they were NYC restauranteurs, and also had succeeded in the Hudson Valley.
He’d seen their hopping spot Upstate with his own eyes.
I checked their website first, and their credentials were impeccable, as they’d worked for a list of mega-chefs, including Thomas Keller, Daniel Boulud, and the Batali/Bastianich group.
(It doesn’t get bigger than that, as far as resumé-street-cred in the United States.)
Fermentation classes were offered, and there was talk they were a top 40 wine restaurant as well, from Esquire Magazine.
Consider me curious, and ready to be impressed!
(Taos has a famously mediocre food scene, which is why it took Guy Fieri until 2022 to make it here for the first time. And that Dude has been EVERYWHERE.)
Since I’m not one for foreshadowing, I’ll go ahead and tell you in the end, Jessie and I were hungry, and unimpressed.
Corner Office was a disappointment on multiple levels, and I didn’t even see the bill. (My wife took care of it, as she suspected I’d get triggered.)
The four of us sat outside, on a cold night, but there was a heat lamp, and that was nice.
We had privacy, and fresh air, so score one point for Corner Office.
The menu looked really good, with lots of small plates I could see myself eating, and mix and match options.
There was gnocchi, and burrata.
An Italian sub-theme, but also Asian and Middle Eastern influences thrown in.
We could have created a few different meals, but built it thusly:
To begin, Jessie and I shared their fancy, local carrots, in a yogurt sauce, and some roasted eggplant with peanuts.
Both came out in lumps; brown food on brown plates.
They were meager, but very tasty, I must say.
And those were the good parts.
Now, to the problems.
While the restaurant includes a gratuity, it’s mostly self service.
Your order at a counter, and they don’t even bring you water.
When we asked for water, the modelesque, but disinterested server told us we could get it ourselves.
And where to find it.
If you want wine, you go back inside, and the owner talks to you about the wine wall.
Except he was definitely blowing smoke.
He said he ran a Top 40 Wine restaurant in NY, but Corner Office had no American wines on their list.
California is just across the desert, but Zackary told me he didn’t know enough about American product to stock it.
Say what now?
I asked about a few options, (I was trained in NYC restaurants, including Bobby Flay’s Bolo,) and was gravitating towards something from Spain, with a bit of bite, but he convinced me a bottle of Roman table wine was something special, for $40.
No surprise, it wasn’t.
And in Rome it would have cost $7!
We sat outside, at a wooden, unadorned table, eating brown food on brown plates, drinking overpriced, average wine, but at least the conversation was good.
(And the morsel appetizers were tasty, as I said.)
For the main course, Jessie and I split a Korean steak sandwich, billed as Wagyu brisket au jus, with pickled veggies, which sounded terrific.
It was $21.
To say we were dissatisfied is an understatement.
Had I been served that at a sports bar for $12, I would have been pissed off.
It was flavorless.
No acid, no flavor profile at all.
And no pickled veggies to cut the fat.
The jus was rich, but lacking depth, and there was nothing else to eat on the brown plate.
The sandwich bread was crumbly, but tasteless.
Knowing we were getting hit with a big bill, and were hungry still, Jessie and I ate every last crumb.
It was as if Oliver Twist were ready to jump out of our chests, Alien-style, and demand, “May I please have some more?”
Not because it was good, though.
Because we were still hungry!
In the end, I don’t know what the bill was.
I know it wasn’t cheap.
Because desert came from Chokola, I won’t bother to critique it. (And I don’t remember what it was anyway.)
So there’s our first restaurant review at Sunshine and Olly.
A bit of a doozy.
Corner Office was over-priced, out of touch, and not that good.
I will not be going back.
Corner Office
1.5 stars out of 4
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Hasta La Vista, Kyrie
Hi, Everyone!
How was your weekend?
Thank you so much for reading!
Seriously
I mean it.
When I dropped this blog on Friday, and announced my goodbye at A Photo Editor, I was serious.
You’ll get no false modesty from me.
(Nor passive aggression.)
I launched this blog as an art project, for myself. (And my family, because Jessie’s already asking for the keys to the WordPress.)
I had no idea if people who read me at APE, or knew me from the NYT, would bother clicking over to this little venture.
Having never done it before, how could I know?
But having established an audience, (again, Thank You!) it means I’ve got to take you into consideration too.
Clearly, I’m going to write about what I want.
That’s the point.
Unlike the old column, though, not sure the “rants” will be as long, nor will there always be one before I GET TO THE POINT.
Because I’ll be writing about so many topics, I assume not all of you will want to read about everything.
I’m going to share my FAMOUS PIZZA RECIPE, but if you don’t cook, you might skip it.
And when I write about subjects that appeal to many, but certainly not all, (especially in a bougie blog,) I’ll do my best to give context.
And make it seem relevant.
Like now.
I love sports, and always have.
It was the language of my home, and of my community.
Youth sports dominated the after-school lives of all my suburban friends, just like gym class was the best part of the day.
Competition, sure.
But teamwork.
Camaraderie.
Achievement.
Hard Work.
Improvement.
Winning!It was great.
We played sports, watched sports, and read about sports.
The NYT and Asbury Park Press provided all the box scores and columnist opinions I needed, back in the day.
(And here I am, an occasional sports columnist.)
Just so you know, at this point, it’s not new for me.
I wrote for both 7amkickoff, and LeGrove, for multiple seasons, and they’re among the best Arsenal blogs out there.
My son Theo will attest that I’m so good at predicting what will happen, and what the announcers will say during all games, that we had to invent a way to mark my successes.
A point system.
(Now everyone tries to get points, and Theo’s really good at it.)
Just yesterday, I got 10 points.
It’s the highest score ever given.
(Normally, you just get one at a time.)
The dime was because I successfully predicted, to the player, who the Nets would/could get when they traded my nemesis, Kyrie Irving. (Seeming narcissist, possible anti-semite, known malcontent, vibe killer.)
I was so excited, when I heard the news, I actually kissed the ground.
No.
That’s not true.
Last week, I made a Twitter declaration I’d kiss the ground, if it got to 48 degrees F yesterday, after three consecutive, cold, dispiriting months.
And it did.
Still, I said to my wife, on a walk, “I don’t feel like kissing dirt today.”
I had decided to blow it off.
But when I heard Kyrie was traded, I realized that I had to make good.
(Life rule: Never piss off Karma, especially when she/he/they is being kind to you.)
Kissing the ground, (for real,) 02.05.23
Saturday night, (which was the day after Kyrie’s trade request went public,) I broke it down for Theo.
He had been anxious to know, so much so that as the news broke on Friday, (and I had been busy, you know, ending my 13 year career, and starting this blog,) he called me from school.
My kid is amazing.
Brilliant.
Loving.
Awesome.But he’s also 15.
So when the phone rang during school hours, I expected it to be problems, or maybe good wishes, or compliments.
Maybe, a, “How does it feel, Dad?”
Instead, I got, “Is it true Kyrie demanded a trade?”
(Teenagers.)
As I was saying, the night before, I broke it down.
The Nets don’t want to trade Kevin Durant, who was playing as NBA Alpha Dog, in December/January, until Jimmy Butler rolled up on his leg.
(Did you say sorry, Jimmy?)
That killed this incarnation of the Nets, who’d just gone 18-2.
They were breathtakingly good.
But still, I hate-watched, because Kyrie is just that awful.
Coach killer.
Franchise killer.
Suspected anti-semite.
Known asshole.
And he also trolls the media.Now, if you understand a “certain type of person,” like Kanye West, you’ll know to expect irrational decisions, not logical ones.
And the level of calculation can be stupefying.
After Kyrie was suspended for refusing to apologize for spreading hate, he came back, pretending to be contrite.
If you know one thing about Kyrie Irving, he’s never contrite.
I knew it was an act.
He’d been told to keep his mouth shut, and play out of his mind, by HIS people.
Because it was a strategy.
He donated a LOT of money to student tuition, via GoFundMe, and got good PR.
Multiple times.
(Drip marketing.)
And he was seemingly “a good teammate,” saying the right things to the press.
He had an alley-oop, put-back dunk that lit the NBA on fire for a day.
He leads the league in 4th quarter scoring.
These were statements of intent.
But for what?
The clue came two weeks ago, after the Nets beat the Knicks for the 9th straight time.
It was all innocuous enough.
They asked Kyrie if it was fun beating the Knicks again, because of the rivalry.
He seemed nonchalant, (as is his way,) and said, “If the NBA calls it rivalry week, then it’s a rivalry.”
And I thought…
SHOTS FIRED! SHOTS FIRED!
This is a man that famously lit tens of millions of dollars on fire, because of his principles.
He’s always right, in his own mind.
So to give a quote like that, was the equivalent of telling (anyone paying attention) that it was all pretend.
Playing good soldier, for a plan.
And it worked.
Thank Fucking Goodness!
The deal was, Kyrie couldn’t get traded in the summer, or get a free agent deal, because his vaccine crazy was too recent.
He needed to rehabilitate his image, but then stepped it it with the Jews.
So what do you do?
You rehabilitate your value, to create options.
Done.
Then you make sure to time your bomb exquisitely.
Again, Done!
Sean Marks had enough time to maneuver.
If you’re really lucky, the GOAT, LBJ, makes come hither eyes your way.
If you’re even luckier, the historically great Western conference is weak, and there is a scrum to get into the play-in, or the playoffs.
Real money is on the line for Billionaires.
The Buss Family.
Steve Ballmer.
The new guy in Phoenix.
And, last but not least, Uber-famous for his competitive spirit, favorite Shark Tank celebrity owner… Mark Cuban.
Image courtesy of Eric Gay/AP So it was to be a 4-way-stand-off.
Who would pony up the best offer?
And that’s what I told Theo Saturday night.
It went like this:
In order to keep Durant, you have to stay competitive for a championship. Which means you can’t lose a point guard, and not get one back.
Plus, you need to keep stacking talent to support him.
And everyone says the Nets need a 4/PF who can body up and shoot.
So the best trade gets you that, if not more.
Who has what, in the 4 team scrum?
That’s all it took.
The Mavs were desperate for a Luka partner, and had Spencer Dinwiddie, who was a Nets Fan favorite for 5 years.
And Dorian Finley-Smith, a strong 3D guy the stats nerds love.
The salaries almost fit.
By Sunday, I had it dialed up in the trade machine, and tweeted that Dinwiddie had to be the/a prime target.
Who would give up the most?
Would the Clippers offer Norman Powell?
Apparently, we’re now told they didn’t.
Would the Suns offer Jae Crowder?
Apparently, we’re told they did, but wanted to attach the poison pill of Chris Paul’s contract.
The Laker and Clipper offers were weak, and Mark Cuban went all in.
So the Nets are more complete, and have more assets.
For a guy they couldn’t give away in summer, they got a restocked pantry, and FREEDOM from the drama.
There are reports the Nets will also try to trade for more immediate star power, to re-court Durant.
Then again, this being the 2023 NBA, it’s totally possible that
Durant has been traded, while I’ve been writing for the past 3 hours.(Not just this. If a sports blog post took me 3 hours, there would be something wrong.)
In the NBA, (and in sports in general,) anything can happen.
Which is why we watch!
The biggest drama, on a global stage, with the best athletes, and it connects right into our childhood-nostalgia-memory banks.
Now do you understand why I’m hooked?
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A Mission Statement
Sunshine is my new life partner.
(But I’ve known her less than a month.)
It’s an odd arrangement, but will make sense if you give me a moment.
Because Sunshine is a one-year-old puppy.
She’s a phenomenal little dog we brought home from the animal shelter last month; a mixed breed with a yellow-lab mutt for a Dad, and a pit-heeler mother.
Our family didn’t only adopt Sunshine, though.
(Not at all.)
Rather, Sunshine and her fraternal, twin sister Olly are a bonded pair, and were only available as a couple.
A month ago, my family had four humans and two dogs, and the canines were angling for more same-species companionship.
Preferably dog-kids, if we could, but both of them had been fixed, so Billy and Haley couldn’t have natural children. (He’s neutered, she’s spayed.)
Thank goodness for Stray Hearts Animal Shelter!
It was nearly an impulse buy, if I’m being honest, bringing Sunshine and Olly into our lives. And I don’t think we realized what a difference doubling the doggie family would make.
(It’s a lot.)
Even on a 60 acre horse farm, I notice dog shit everywhere now.
But it’s also the most perfect, loving, joyful, amazing thing we could have ever done, sharing our home, and lives, with Sunshine and Olly!
Olly Though NOW we can pinpoint the moment Sunshine adopted me as her “person,” declaring true love, it wasn’t evident at the time.
The first night we had the twins, resting in my daughter’s bed, I was snuggling with Olly. But Sunshine climbed up on her sister, then past her, and nestled into the crook between my chest, neck and face.
It was as if the dog wanted to merge with my human flesh.
And she’s continued to love me that hard, every day, from that second on!
The next morning, as she began to follow me around, and press up against me constantly, I got the picture.
This thing between me and Sunshine was for life.
I was to be her everything, but I couldn’t even tell her I love her.
Because Sunshine is deaf.
Sunshine It’s the main reason the twins were only available as a pair, because their super-bond had saved their lives.
Sunshine and Olly were discarded at Stray Hearts Animal Shelter in a box, but not discovered for more than a day, so by snuggling together in the cold night, the girls kept each other alive.
This is magic love!
Like something out of Harry Potter. (Wait, do we ditch the HP references now that J.K. Rowling is such a c-nt?)
Because of Sunshine’s hearing disability, they told us Olly was her look-out.
Her care-giver. Or guardian angel.
That’s what they said, anyway, and we assumed Sunshine would be a vulnerable-little-thing.
Olly, having gotten much more of the pit bull genes, looks like the fierce fighter in the family.
All shoulders and chest and neck muscles.
But looks can be deceiving.
The more I watched the puppies, the more I realized somehow, some way, we had adopted, (or been adopted by,) the living embodiment of Taoism.
Sunshine and Olly.
Yin and Yang. Heaven and Earth. Fire and Water. Masculine and Feminine.
Balanced opposites, which make a complete whole, each containing a tiny bit of the other inside.
Image courtesy of BruceLee.com
It’s a big idea. And I know it sounds crazy.
You think I’m being hyperbolic. How could you not?
What kind of megalomaniac thinks his adopted-twin-shelter-pups represent the keys to understanding the Universe?
Like the old joke, “What has two thumbs and likes blowjobs?”
This guy!
As it happens, Sunshine is deaf, and the smallest, slightest dog we’ve got.
But, and I SWEAR this is true… she’s the guard dog in the family.
Just like Daredevil, Sunshine has some weird, smell/vibes/eagle-eyes/ESP super-power thing going on, and she’s the only one who barks, LOUDLY, and leads the charge towards the coyotes.
I don’t know how she does it without hearing, but Sunshine KNOWS what’s going on outside, and Bolts out the door to take care of business.
We expected her to be fragile, but she’s fearless!
And intense!
Yet Olly, who’s bigger, (and more obviously threatening,) lives a silent life, like a monk.
She never speaks, beyond the occasional sigh.
Olly has sad, fearful eyes, compared to her sister’s ferocity.
But it’s a sweet, loving sadness, like when you’re listening to Radiohead on a bad day.
All vulnerability.
(Which is what we expected out of Sunshine, who rarely lets her guard down.)
We know Olly was beaten, suffering trauma, and Sunshine wasn’t, because of how they behave.
I mean, what asshole wants to kick a skinny, deaf runt, when you can wail on the big, strong, pit-bull-adjacent sister?
When they sleep together, opposing question marks, it’s like watching a miracle.
Whose limbs belong to whom becomes hard to ascertain?
Sunshine and Olly.
Together, they make a perfect whole.
And a perfect whole encompasses everything.
Luckily, I want to write a blog about everything.
(Or anything I want in the moment, which is pretty much the same thing.)
So maybe it’s really “the possibility of everything?”
In nearly 13 years blogging at A Photo Editor, (writing for pay,) I always had to tie things back to photography.
But now I’m free!
Sunshine and Olly will cover:
Sports.
Art.
Food.
Fighting.
Music.
Dogs.
Parenting.
Kids.
Wives. Husbands.
Relationships.
Travel.
Mental Health.
Photography. (Of course.)
Politics.You get the picture.
I intend to use this blog as a creative outlet, and write about anything, because I can.
The world is my oyster!
And Sunshine and Olly, together, represent the world.
So it seemed natural to name the blog after them.
Don’t you think?
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Sunshine and Olly 