Cooter Says

Rants and Raves. Rambles and Shambles. Tales and Tidbits.

The Miami Breakdown

I can assure you that this list barely scratches the surface, but please read at your own risk as awesomeness overload may hinder your ability to operate a motor vehicle and/or heavy machinery.

Chronologically:

  1. Printed out my boarding pass to discover I’m Group 5 in boarding. Not good. 85% of the plane boards in front of me and the gate agent can see the misery in my face as I have a carry-on, a suit bag, and a personal bag. Three piece suit, for the win. She calls me over, asks me where my seat is located, and upgrades me to First Class since the rest of the plane was a bunch of spring breakers out for blood.
  2. Land to mid 70’s. Ok, not bad. Expected more.
  3. Post brunch, the temperature kicks up to Mid 80’s and I ride around on a jet ski for what seemed like forever. I am now in love with jet skis.
  4. Mid-day meeting for work, eh. Lasting less than 30 minutes? YES.
  5. Poolside margs.
  6. Dinner at BLT Steak. Various apps, honey marinated Alaskan black cod, a steak that this establishment isn’t afraid to serve blue rare (it’s a temperature on the menu), and peanut butter chocolate mousse with banana ice cream. Mind you, this is what stood out most. There was way more.
  7. Post BLT Steak we went to The Delano to hang out at their poolside beds, cabanas, and slowly serving bar. Drinks were $$$, but the atmosphere somewhat justified the hike in price. You’ll learn that South Beach is trap after trap for the typical outsider. Notables: Lawn sized chessboard and a 4 inch low end of the pool with table and chairs smack in the middle of the water. A hot spot for pictures and models in sun dresses.
  8. After the Delano, a few of us went to the hotel bar for a night cap.
  9. Monday: WORK. ALL. DAY. Perks: breakfast on the balcony over the pool, and lunch on the Boardroom Balcony.
  10. Post work: Dinner at STK at the Gansevoort. I enjoy food…more than most, but I’ve never attempted to meticulously paint pictures of high end cuisine. STK at the Gansevoort may have been the catalyst to do just that, but for now you get the, “Wow. I can’t believe I’m here holy-shittery”. Upon entry, I ordered a Manhattan that went for about $23. Yes, a martini for $23. I told you. Miami is…well…Miami. The lobby/foyer/bar area could pass for a VIP mezzanine of any club in town. Reason being? It’s filled with beautiful people trying too hard or enjoying marrying rich. That aside, appetizer wise, I remember the GIANT SHRIMP. I ate D-Rated Marine Themed Horror Movie Villains, basically. A guest and I split the Porterhouse for 2. It was probably a 36oz steak. We went medium rare. I loaded up his share plate and handed it to him. I tossed my share plate aside and went to town on the main serving dish. For sides, we went with the creamed spinach, the mac and cheese (crispy layer need be broken through to unveil country cooking with a touch of sass and class), the, get this, Parmesan truffle fries (YEAH), and maybe the broccolini? or the croquettes de potatoes? I went through another Manhattan at dinner. The music was great. We danced in our seats in between courses. Dessert was Molten Chocolate Smores: marshmallow hit with a creme brulee torch, vanilla ice cream, and peanut butter on top of a molten cake. Plus, a caramelized apple cake with butterscotch and cinnamon ice cream. Are you drooling yet? Because I’m upset I’m back in NJ/NY. 
  11. Post dinner: I slashed it down several notches and met White Chocolate at dive called Club Deuce Bar and Grill. It’s a place to play pool, grab a beer, and figure out where you’re actually going to go for the evening. We ended up going to the Delano again, strictly because I wanted to play chess on the lawn. Mission accomplished. We had a cigar out on the table in the middle of the pool. Many people took pictures of us, including a photographer from Milan who ventured out into the pool with her camera to get the close ups. What, Sean? No link for Club Deuce? It doesn’t have a website. ‘Nuff said.
  12. Tuesday: WORK. ALL. DAY. Perks: Coffee, red bull, red bull, coffee. Lunch on the balcony of the Boardroom. I didn’t have a chance to eat breakfast. That’s fine.
  13.  Post work: Luckily, Amanda and her girlfriends were coming down from Boca Raton to have a day/dinner/drink-a-thon at the beach. I went to dinner atYUCA or Young Urban Cuban-Americans. Unfortunately, they could not accommodate a party of our size in the outdoor seating area. No big deal. All food from STK and beyond had a challenging undertaking, so don’t think, “Oh, that place sounds awful” when I compare it to STK and go, “Not even close”. YUCA has GREAT red/white sangria. I drilled through a few of those. White Chocolate and I had previously eaten at Pizza-Bar which is pizza 1.5x the size of Koronet’s at Columbia back in NY. So, I was somewhat full. Hit the tapas bar: Havana croquettes, chiles rellenos, sugar cane guava shrimp, and cesta de empanadas. We jumped ahead to entrees and I slotted in with the Ropa Vieja Nuevo Latino (which was off of the app menu) so I threw in some rice/beans, too. The Ropa Vieja was on top of sweet potato cake and plantain fufu. I think this is the first night we skipped desserts.
  14. Post Dinner: So, the Amanda meetup ended up working perfectly. We were both concerned that we’d be late for the other person, but really we were all running in sync with the exception of White Chocolate. I guess he was just waiting. WC and I went down to the lobby and ran into the coming into the Loew’s. Amanda grabbed me and decided that we’d go to the liquor store while WC brought the others up to the room and set the balcony. We went back to the room, shot the shit, lubed it up, and then hit the town. Kind of. We headed towards, again, the Delano. A LINE that stretched all the way down to Collins Ave (which isn’t far), but nonetheless. I’ve been walking in there w/o hassle for the past two days. Why today? No idea. We took a cab downtown and went near Mango’s, no dice. Stopped at a hotel bar to think quick. WC went back to the hotel. We ended up going to the pool lounge atThe W. Check out the photo called “Pool at Dusk”. We ended up going a couple of rounds here and then calling it a night. Nothing crazy.
  15. Wednesday: WORK. ALL. DAY. Perks: lunch on the balcony.
  16. Post Work: Everyone had their town dinner plans so a select few went toCJ’s Crab Shack for a dress down type of evening: shorts, t-shirt, sandals, RELAXATION. Just what the doctor ordered. The walk down Ocean Drive/beach path set the stone for what was ahead. It was Spring Break Lane and every sidewalk restaurant/bar had a different vibe to offer the same thing: warm weather and cocktails coupled with good eats. A couple of margaritas, some drunken shrimp, calamari, snow crabs, and fries later…we’re off to the races at Wet Willies. They are FAMOUS for their frozen drinks, and what I didn’t know (until right now actually) is that most of them feature grain alcohol at the 153 or 190 proof level. GET. OUT! I guess we should’ve taken drinks names like “Call A Cab” and “Shock Treatment” literally. We sat on the second floor balcony overlooking the beach and let loose, loose, loose. As the evening transformed, I turned around and found that the people I came with were gone…and in their place were three cute Canadian girls growing impatient with my ridiculousness. This Shock Treatment definitely forced me to Call A Cab. I stormed out of the cab thinking I was with someone who was in the proper state of mind to figure out how to pay one…however…I was not..and as I happily stumbled away thinking it was being paid by an imaginary wing man, I turned back, smiled, and shouted, “Thanks for everything!”. The doorman of my hotel and the cabbie shrugged shoulders as to say, “Fucking drunk people”. 
  17. Thursday: WORK. ALL. DAY. Perks: finally had time to eat breakfast. First time since Monday.
  18. Thursday: Don’t you worry about, Thursday. It was great. Dinner was at Hakkasan at the Fountainebleau. On a personal note, I need to stop drinking single malt scotch with Japanese/Chinese food. I’ve done it twice, and it’s not the worst thing in the world, but there were a plethora of options that could’ve been better. I.E. the Nashi Collins. A Chinese twist on the Tom Collins with apple and pear liqueur. Why didn’t I get that?
  19. Friday morning: Beach, Lunch, Poolside Cabana, Key Lime Cooladas, Coronas, Champagne, and cabs to the airport.
  20. Airplanes….sadness…finality. 

Questions? Inquire within.