so a couple saturdays ago after my birthday evening out, my dear friend and i (in rough shape much like our younger years found us on saturday mornings) decided we better check out the new matchbox location on capitol hill in hopes of curing what was ailing us. the night before was a champagne wonderland of girls being girls. girls gone wild. minus the midriff baring, beer-chugging keg-stands. our version of girls gone wild is much more civilized than it used to be but so much fun, nonetheless.
so, i picked her up saturday morning (at 1:30 pm) from undisclosed location near cap hill wearing same outfit as night before. black, sequined shirt, skinny black pants, platform pumps and all, slightly less glamorous than she looked the prior night. let me tell you this was no ordinary february 7 - it was gorgeous outside - nearly 65 degrees - so her get-up was even funnier we thought.
oh thank goodness the fine folks at matchbox had a seat for us. (rumor has it it's been jam-packed since day 1 and it's a biatch to get in to). sadly they didn't have a booth for us. isn't that all we really want in life - a nice cushy booth with lots of space and no one touching us, no one close enough to hear us, smell us, or even look at us when we're hung over? oh well we can't have it all. we were actually sitting uncomfortably snugly between two couples along the wall. and you know what? we didn't give a rat's arse - we were happy to be laughing and rehashing the night before - again, just like old times.
everyone has already been to the matchbox in chinatown, i'm sure, but i'm writing about this one, ok? i haven't been to the old location in moons as it happens so i'm talking about it like i've never been, which i haven't, to this just-opened location.
oh my brain was not functioning that day. how i went from not wanting to celebrate my birthday at all to having a full-fledged 3:30 am stumbling home blowout i don't know. what the heck happened to me? i'll tell you what happened. i never go out - i'm boring and busy and never go out. therefore when i do, it's like letting a wild, caged animal out of the zoo. he goes crazy, throws caution to the wind, finds a lampshade and puts it on his head, dances in public like michael jackson and thinks he's really funny. really really funny. that aside, back to matchbox, the new locale.
it's so incredibly big, ginormous. you think it's going to be a tiny little hole in the wall from it's downplayed location on 8th street, nestled amongst the beer pubs, and old mixed with new shops of all sorts. everything is new and shiny and clean but rustic with exposed pipes and brick. i love the look of it. they have a loft upstairs too - thank goodness they didn't make us walk those stairs though. i think it'd be fun to sit at the high-top tables at the bar too next time. note to self for future: i think there might be some hotties hanging out here on the weekends, drinking beer with their gourmet pizza. could be my type of guy.
we were so excited to get a pizza. matchbox is known for having great pizza - the kind i really love - thin, crispy crust with simple toppings. we had a hangover hankering for a tomato and mozzarella pizza with basil. simple.
well that is until we saw the mini burgers! we must order those too, we said. and we did. you should know mini burgers are all the rage now. but people call them mini burgers and they're really not that mini - they're actually the perfect size burger. (i make the smallest burgers in town - and they're mini burgers - they're tiny burgers; maybe i should call them mini sliders, because a slider is a mini burger, right?)
anyway, we get three mini burgers, ordered with bleu cheese on top. well, we think our neighbors got our burgers and ours came with smoked gouda or something. oh well, they were still really good. they come with a mountain of fried onions on top. impressive looking but they're too thin to eat. they're also not crispy. they're limp and oily. hey, limp and oily actually reminds me of another story. well, perhaps another time. i know a lot of people really go crazy for these but not me. they fall into the shoestring fry category for me. i like a little more substance in my fried onions (and my french guys, i mean fries).
we ordered our pizza and started to eat it when sadly, the crust isn't crispy at all! turns out the mozzarella and tomatoes have so much water in them they can't get the crust crispy! what??? oh no - this won't do. no gummy pizza when you're hung over.
our neighbors sitting {in our laps} next to us to us (probably annoyed with us eye-balling their pizza like starving children) inform us they too have ordered the mozzarella tomato pizza with disappointment, sent it back to be "crisped up" without luck. damn, sam. they said we could have some of their pizza if they wanted. sweet, no?
see, this is what i'm talking about: you're just too close to people in some restaurants. somedays you feel like making friends with your neighbors and some days you just don't. when i should have been a grumpasaurus rex though, i actually didn't mind - the alcohol level in my blood was still fairly high i think so i was somewhat perky and still pretty darn funny. my friend couldn't resist telling them she doesn't normally dress like this on saturday afternoons.
by the way, they don't have fresh tomatoes - we asked! darnit, they were using stewed whole tomatoes. i know tomatoes aren't in season but still, roast up some fresh ones - that's what you do when they're not in season! please for the love of all things holy!! call me for a quick and useful lesson on making fresh tomatoes taste good - roast 'em up! garlic, olive oil, herbs, salt, pepper, sugar. geez, louise!
instead, we ordered a different pizza. sausage, roasted red peppers and onions. it came out hot and crispy and perfect. i wished we'd gotten a large but we only had a medium. neighbor boy ordered the best looking bloody mary i think i've ever laid eyes on. for once i just couldn't do it though. i knew it would easily send me back into la la land and i had to get home and watch some quality lifetime television for women movies and rest. (neighbor boy was, by the way, pretty cute my friend tells me - i was too blinking close to distinguish his features - kind of like a monet.)
you know, one of the things i think is kind of strange in this today's age of restaurants shutting down all over the place because of the economy, lowering their prices, firing people, etc., when i see the amount of money that must've gone into the menus at matchbox i think what a waste. they're gorgeous, sleek and chic as can be bound with real wood on the front and back covers. the decor of this place is so cool because it's done so perfectly well - it's so clean and new but has a rustic, not trying-too-hard, casual appeal to it. then the menu goes against everything else they've done to create this feel. i don't get it. i'm sure no one else thinks of this but me. just an observation.
i was real happy with that place, i gotta tell you. i love the atmosphere. the 2nd pizza we got was perfectly done just right. we boxed up the first one and i ate it later. from the comfort of my sofa as i used the rest of my day to fully recover from the transgressions of the night before.
thank goodness for matchbox pizza.
so, i picked her up saturday morning (at 1:30 pm) from undisclosed location near cap hill wearing same outfit as night before. black, sequined shirt, skinny black pants, platform pumps and all, slightly less glamorous than she looked the prior night. let me tell you this was no ordinary february 7 - it was gorgeous outside - nearly 65 degrees - so her get-up was even funnier we thought.
oh thank goodness the fine folks at matchbox had a seat for us. (rumor has it it's been jam-packed since day 1 and it's a biatch to get in to). sadly they didn't have a booth for us. isn't that all we really want in life - a nice cushy booth with lots of space and no one touching us, no one close enough to hear us, smell us, or even look at us when we're hung over? oh well we can't have it all. we were actually sitting uncomfortably snugly between two couples along the wall. and you know what? we didn't give a rat's arse - we were happy to be laughing and rehashing the night before - again, just like old times.
everyone has already been to the matchbox in chinatown, i'm sure, but i'm writing about this one, ok? i haven't been to the old location in moons as it happens so i'm talking about it like i've never been, which i haven't, to this just-opened location.
oh my brain was not functioning that day. how i went from not wanting to celebrate my birthday at all to having a full-fledged 3:30 am stumbling home blowout i don't know. what the heck happened to me? i'll tell you what happened. i never go out - i'm boring and busy and never go out. therefore when i do, it's like letting a wild, caged animal out of the zoo. he goes crazy, throws caution to the wind, finds a lampshade and puts it on his head, dances in public like michael jackson and thinks he's really funny. really really funny. that aside, back to matchbox, the new locale.
it's so incredibly big, ginormous. you think it's going to be a tiny little hole in the wall from it's downplayed location on 8th street, nestled amongst the beer pubs, and old mixed with new shops of all sorts. everything is new and shiny and clean but rustic with exposed pipes and brick. i love the look of it. they have a loft upstairs too - thank goodness they didn't make us walk those stairs though. i think it'd be fun to sit at the high-top tables at the bar too next time. note to self for future: i think there might be some hotties hanging out here on the weekends, drinking beer with their gourmet pizza. could be my type of guy.
we were so excited to get a pizza. matchbox is known for having great pizza - the kind i really love - thin, crispy crust with simple toppings. we had a hangover hankering for a tomato and mozzarella pizza with basil. simple.
well that is until we saw the mini burgers! we must order those too, we said. and we did. you should know mini burgers are all the rage now. but people call them mini burgers and they're really not that mini - they're actually the perfect size burger. (i make the smallest burgers in town - and they're mini burgers - they're tiny burgers; maybe i should call them mini sliders, because a slider is a mini burger, right?)
anyway, we get three mini burgers, ordered with bleu cheese on top. well, we think our neighbors got our burgers and ours came with smoked gouda or something. oh well, they were still really good. they come with a mountain of fried onions on top. impressive looking but they're too thin to eat. they're also not crispy. they're limp and oily. hey, limp and oily actually reminds me of another story. well, perhaps another time. i know a lot of people really go crazy for these but not me. they fall into the shoestring fry category for me. i like a little more substance in my fried onions (and my french guys, i mean fries).
we ordered our pizza and started to eat it when sadly, the crust isn't crispy at all! turns out the mozzarella and tomatoes have so much water in them they can't get the crust crispy! what??? oh no - this won't do. no gummy pizza when you're hung over.
our neighbors sitting {in our laps} next to us to us (probably annoyed with us eye-balling their pizza like starving children) inform us they too have ordered the mozzarella tomato pizza with disappointment, sent it back to be "crisped up" without luck. damn, sam. they said we could have some of their pizza if they wanted. sweet, no?
see, this is what i'm talking about: you're just too close to people in some restaurants. somedays you feel like making friends with your neighbors and some days you just don't. when i should have been a grumpasaurus rex though, i actually didn't mind - the alcohol level in my blood was still fairly high i think so i was somewhat perky and still pretty darn funny. my friend couldn't resist telling them she doesn't normally dress like this on saturday afternoons.
by the way, they don't have fresh tomatoes - we asked! darnit, they were using stewed whole tomatoes. i know tomatoes aren't in season but still, roast up some fresh ones - that's what you do when they're not in season! please for the love of all things holy!! call me for a quick and useful lesson on making fresh tomatoes taste good - roast 'em up! garlic, olive oil, herbs, salt, pepper, sugar. geez, louise!
instead, we ordered a different pizza. sausage, roasted red peppers and onions. it came out hot and crispy and perfect. i wished we'd gotten a large but we only had a medium. neighbor boy ordered the best looking bloody mary i think i've ever laid eyes on. for once i just couldn't do it though. i knew it would easily send me back into la la land and i had to get home and watch some quality lifetime television for women movies and rest. (neighbor boy was, by the way, pretty cute my friend tells me - i was too blinking close to distinguish his features - kind of like a monet.)
you know, one of the things i think is kind of strange in this today's age of restaurants shutting down all over the place because of the economy, lowering their prices, firing people, etc., when i see the amount of money that must've gone into the menus at matchbox i think what a waste. they're gorgeous, sleek and chic as can be bound with real wood on the front and back covers. the decor of this place is so cool because it's done so perfectly well - it's so clean and new but has a rustic, not trying-too-hard, casual appeal to it. then the menu goes against everything else they've done to create this feel. i don't get it. i'm sure no one else thinks of this but me. just an observation.
i was real happy with that place, i gotta tell you. i love the atmosphere. the 2nd pizza we got was perfectly done just right. we boxed up the first one and i ate it later. from the comfort of my sofa as i used the rest of my day to fully recover from the transgressions of the night before.
thank goodness for matchbox pizza.
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