[Editor's note: This is guest post from friend-of-the-blog Dan Litvin.]
A photo posted to the Instagram account of one Josh Wolfe (username: wolfejosh) depicts what appears to be Phil Jackson and Carmelo Anthony dining at the restaurant American Cut. The photo is grainy, so the diners may actually be Alan Arkin and a unicorn, but if it is Phil and Melo, then it is Knicks-related, which means I can talk about it here, which means I can discuss the fact that American Cut has a carrot you can buy for $10!
The $10 carrot appears on the menu as a “Carrot Glazed Carrot” with mint and something called maldon. Yum! It’s a real thing, I assure you. I know because I have tried it.
Last year, the law firm where I toil, did enough business that it was able to distribute its regular bonus, which I used to treat myself and my wife to dinner at American Cut.
I asked our server for the $10 Carrot Glazed Carrot, sheepishly, because I expected him to laugh and tell me that that particular menu item is not a real menu item but a rather an arch, wry joke for the foodie/glitterati set that patronize an establishment such as this on the regular.
You know, the kind of folks that wouldn’t raise an eyebrow at the thought of a $10 Carrot Glazed Carrot. But he did not laugh, and I would soon receive my luxurious, overpriced taproot with taproot sauce.
Here is my review of the $10 Carrot Glazed Carrot: it was soft, probably steamed or baked, and then glazed with a carroty tasting sweet glaze of carroty richness. It also had mint and maldons. As far as $10 carrots go, it was probably as worth it as you can get, but I would have gladly paid another thousand or so dollars if it was drizzled rendered Wagyu fat and sprinkled with gold flakes. We truly live in a gilded age.
Money is no object to gentlemen in the tax bracket of Messrs. Jackson and Anthony, so I’m going assume they each ordered at least fourteen Carrot Glazed Carrots. And in that freewheeling spirit, I assume that his would-be star was deep in a food coma–his eyes practically lolling around in his head whilst he rubbed his sated belly in Rabelasian, gustatory excess–so Jackson saw the perfect opportunity to whisper a few sweet nothings in his ear about the possibility of accepting a tad fewer ducats if/when he does re-up in Gotham.
And perhaps Phil started scribbling plays on linen napkins as he is wont to do, gave Melo a customized pair of Google Glass that displayed his glorious, five-year plan to surround him with noble, selfless ‘mates; pristinely selected, form-fitting proper pieces that will only buttress Melo’s innate greatness in the near and long term, and flapped his silken tongue about Red and The Captain and Clyde and how he was the one true successor to the long-vacated ‘Bocker throne–a true New Yorker that would finally restore the franchise to contender/mythic-status.
Or maybe they just talked about what everyone else talks about when they eat $10 Carrot Glazed Carrots: their stock portfolios, their bond portfolios, monocles, top hats, capitalism, venture capital, mortgage backed securities, securities backed mortgages, Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac, Mac Mae, Freddie Mae, Fannie Mac, Dodd-Frank, The Glass-Steagall Act and whatnot.
Personally, if I were Phil, I would have picked another hash house with which to break bread, mainly because I’m suspicious of restaurants run by chefs that think they can rock a mohawk. (I did not know this before I dined there with the wife.)
Come to think of it, it’s actually the perfect bôite. Phil probably used said menu choice(s) as a teachable moment; illustrating to Melo that paying him the max is just like that $10 Carrot Glazed Carrot, which is delicious and fun to have, but if one wants to have an impactful, nutritious, dining experience on a budget (you know, like the salary cap), maybe one shouldn’t spend ten bucks on ONE CARROT, no matter how sumptuous and carroty the glaze is.
That is, maybe Phil presented Melo with a pre-dinner budget, explained that the gilded Carrot Glazed Carrot would prevent them for enjoying “Dad’s Planked Salmon ($31)” or the “Tomahawk Veal ($59)”. “If we sacrifice the Carrot Glazed Carrot, you won’t have as much food. But I bet we can order a much nicer steak, and have an all around better experience.” Phil surely might have said all this because he’s a freaking genius.
NO ONE CAN RESIST THE MAGIC AND THE POWER OF FLAVORTOWN!!!!