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The month of May, by its very name, gives permission. I took extreme advantage of May by allowing a conference group to mistake me as a famous novelist. See the News Headlines, below. Bill Neugent |
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You've Got To Be Kidding |
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Regoteam’s specialty is distributed denial of service (DDOS) attacks that drown a target site in traffic, but they’re eager to be helpful in other ways. “Ddos attack on any internet server. We pay admins of irc.icq.com for hosting so our bandwidth is huge and our knowledge of such attacks allows us to fulfil (sic) any requirement. If you are in need of Ddos attacks, or simply looking for specific content for your web site (like child porn or anything weird) - tell us and wi (sic) will give you what you need!” How incredibly helpful. But isn’t it,
well, illegal? Yes, it is, in the U.S. Not in Russia. A colleague
of mine (who prefers anonymity) explained. “There is an extensive
market for hacker services on the Russian-speaking Internet. Groups
and individuals openly offer services in this vein on their public
websites (sometimes with fixed price scales for different kinds
of attacks), and it is easy to find forums where other individuals
seek to hire hackers for electronic intrusions or other online attacks.
For them, this is just business.” Welcome to cyberspace, dude. |
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Treasure Hunt Clue |
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Remember, this is a contest that will result
in someone winning $1,000. This is also a game of skill and no purchase
is necessary. |
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News Headlines |
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Imagine giving a plug that works so well people swarm a bookstore and buy out every copy of the book. I actually gave the plug, but it wasn’t for my book. The book’s author, Jacqueline Deval, happens to be the publisher of Hearst Books and a consummate insider in the book publishing business. Jacqueline had come down from New York City just to be on my New Marketing Strategies panel at the Washington Writers Conference, which took place in the National Press Club. Read about the sales stampede. Maybe a business trip to a military
garrison in Enköping, Sweden, is not the ideal opportunity
to promote an American novel. I gave it a shot anyway, and sprinkled
seeds
in Sweden. |
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Whining and Dining |
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Our waiter, Driss, informed us that, on this night, the chef featured a seven-course gourmet sampler, with every course a “signature dish.” Driss said the sampler was not a regular item on the menu, but had been added on this night because it was “a bomb.” Driss smiled at the word “bomb,” so we presumed bombs now were good. Must have been the war. Who can keep track? Driss warned that only twelve servings of the gourmet sampler were available. When a commodity is so precious, clearly it’s of greater value. Well, we had been food-free since breakfast and I am now writing a food column for this newsletter and… Basically, we managed to rationalize the preposterous cost and launch into our dining odyssey. We started with baguette (as presumably required by French Law) and raisin bread spiced with fennel. To whet our palates, we were given a lobster-salmon croquette that to us seemed a tad salty The actual meal began with a carpaccio of house-smoked salmon with crème fraise and a dollop of pastel caviar. Okay, “pastel” is not an official food-critic term, but the colors harmonized. Friends will not be shocked to learn that I chose the option of having wine paired with the meal. The accompanying spirit proved to be a pleasant Sancerre sauvignon blanc from the Loire Valley. A remarkable cream of morel soup followed, looking much like a moat around a small island that proved to be a mousse of chicken fois gras sausage. Trimbach Riesling accompanied. We stepped down from there to a roasted lobster in sauterne and ginger butter. Driss had advertised claw meat, but the slightly chewy texture said tail. On the other hand, the white Burgundy made everything better. The next course proved the high point of the meal, a fois gras with plums in a raspberry “cotillion” sauce with red wine reduction. Driss, with characteristic understatement, called it the “best fois gras in the world.” Jill, not a fois gras fan, said it was quite good “if you can forget where it came from.” A Beaune Pinot Noir partnered well. Quail stuffed with fois gras tasted a tad salty and spicy for us, not to mention our naïve prejudice against being confronted with the jut-legged carcass of a small creature. Artichokes in truffle ravioli lifted us to another pinnacle—the ultimate comfort food. The Italian Capezzana red wine had a complex front with a disappointing lack of body. A “gazpacho” of homemade strawberry sorbet with chopped berries came next, followed by chocolate mousse with feuille of orange peel and an orange-twirl cookie, all accompanied by port. The truly odd thing about the meal was that Yannick Cam’s high points were so astonishing anything less became disappointing. A strong negative for us was that, throughout the meal, vegetables appeared only as tiny garnishes. No salads or greens made an appearance. We arrived at opening time and had an excellent table, but twosomes arriving later had to endure tables spaced too close together. Although the men’s room featured piped-in classical pieces, no music could be heard in the restaurant. By 8:00 PM, noise had climbed to a level we found unacceptable. Once we’d finished the meal, Driss practiced gaze avoidance in true European style until I stood on my chair and waved my arms to signal we wanted the check. Fortunately, I was able to finance the meal using a home equity loan. The meal proved an enjoyable dining experience from which we learned a lot, about both food and human nature. By the way, we did celebrate our 22nd anniversary in Savannah and naturally had some excellent meals there. The best was at 45 South, a meal we rated as worthy of two stars on the Michelin scale—rare quality, indeed. Bistro Savannah also proved excellent, although with far less ambience. Worst by far was The Olde Pink House, with mediocre food and lackadaisical service. A colleague said we’d have had better luck in their pub. Our great regret is that we didn’t get to Elizabeth on 37th, a restaurant that, based on the reviews, might be the only place in town in competition with 45 South. |
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Enjoying this newsletter and wish there were more to read? Try the novel. It's "like Robert Ludlum writing about cyberspace,” according to John Lowry of BBN. Incidentally, hardcover copies are available from iUniverse.com. |
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Copyright Information |
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Final Notes |
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Contact Information |
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