Friday, July 20, 2012

Searing Your John's Eye Sockets Shut




Nothing like feeling as though you've just seat belted yourself into a cinematic catastrophe such as Nu Image’s 1998 classically stupid “Armstrong”. At that particular moment James Weed of Newborn - Cascao Jiu-Jitsu had climbed into his small Scion compact, revved the four banger engine underneath the tin hood, and pulled out into traffic doing a complete u-turn across four lanes. And unfortunately for me I was riding bitch praying that I would be instantly killed if we happened to clip the frontend of another vehicle causing us to burst into a fiery explosion, in mid air of course, according to straight to video action flick physics. What the fuck were we running from?! Did James just rappel out of a helicopter, physically assault a sentry with hand to hand combat, and slide across a boardroom table gunning down a room full of generals with an AK-47 filled to the brim with simunition rounds?!




Nope, it was just business as usual behind the wheel with James. I distinctly remember him smiling as he weaved in and out of traffic, no seat belt of course with this dare devil, as I scanned the vehicle’s interior for a means of escape. A cigarette lighter maybe? Too bad for me “The Man” decided to remove the actual lighters from the interior of anything on wheels here in our fifty great states. So ladies and petite framed men who have chosen highway prostitution as a way of life, when hitchhiking across our glorious countryside just know that the lack of cigarette lighters will now hinder you considering you will no longer have the option of searing your John’s eye sockets shut before stabbing him in the neck with the corkscrew selection found on your Swiss army knife, and removing his swap meet bought Harley Davidson wallet from the chain fastened to his piss stained jeans.


After circling Spokane’s downtown blocks we finally found a slot less than a block away from our dining destination. It didn’t take us long to flick the meter’s bean with a hour worth of quarters to ward off any roving meter maid Nazi’s lurking in the immediate area. We cut through the alley that attaches Howard Street with Wall Street and were refreshingly embraced by the inviting arms of Beignets et le cafe. Moments later, after breathing in the cafe's delightfully modern décor, I was sitting on a dark metallic throne with a thick ivory slab squeezed between James and I just inside the large open bay door. Behind me, puked up by a projector onto a wall, were brief moments of life in Paris from the eyes from what I imagine is of a serial killer prowling for his next victim. Or maybe it’s just a traveling tourist? While disregarding the latter I quickly scanned the menu and was immediately aroused when my pupils fell upon the dish Boeuf Bourguignon. Believe you me when I say my arousal was a zipper bursting moment.



This dish was a originally a French peasant plate put together by taking inedible cuts of beef and threading strips of pork belly into the meat in order to marble it. Then the Frankenstein concoction was thrown into a pot of wine, which also tenderized the flesh, along with other belly filling vegetables, such as rotting potatoes and carrots, and aromatic herbs, such as anything found on the forest floor not soaked in urine or fecal matter, and creatively cooked down until it became a saliva inducing stew. This kind of ingenuity screams backdoor penetration between MacGyver and Wolfgang Puck, with the occasional reach around followed by a dirty Sanchez, that is until Puck shits out an intelligently inventive culinary offspring from his colon canon, along with an oversized spatula, a couple of hairless gerbils, and two Magnums, one pearl handled one condom, seeing on how Puck's shuttle docking partner in this imaginary scenario is MacGyver.




Moments later I received an exquisitely refined version of the previously described Boeuf Bourguignon. I inserted the prongs of my stainless steel fork into one of the many meaty cubes happily swimming around in pinot noir like a fully baked Phelps sitting pretty in a lounge style tube, floating aimlessly in a kiddy pool, holding a blunt in one hand while powering down a Subway sandwich in the other. I lifted up my fork visually fornicating my brain by the brilliant sight just before sinking my incisors into the slice of tender beef. I have no issues announcing that I climaxed, spiritually, after that first bite and continued to do so with every memorable bite there after.


Now you should know that Beignets offers fantastic fare that includes other house specials such as Chicken Marsala which is done with a lemon herb chicken and is accompanied by shallots as well as mushrooms which is all submerged in, you guessed it, Marsala wine, and salads, like their Caprese Salad which is topped with ripe tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, and sweet basil and is laced all together by a modest shower of a balsamic reduction and roasted garlic oil. I also noticed as I strolled through their designated canteen station that they offer a full range of firewaters along with fresh mixers and garnishes to dazzle your alcoholic alter egos, good or bad.


And did I mention the crepes! I’ve went back to enjoy their savory ham and gruyere crepe after grinding my digits into my keys for hours and hours while my lobes were assaulted by the screams of Minor Threat. And let me be the first to tell you that there’s nothing like dipping your face into gooey gruyere littered with shards of swine rolling around in Dijon vinaigrette which is all loosely penned in by a sunny silky slim pancake to wake you from your profit driven prisons as it grinds its flavorful fist into the emasculated penis attached to your five senses!


The truth is once I reflected upon my positive experiences at this extremely enjoyable eatery on Wall Street, which I now occasionally use as spank material, it leaves me quoting the great Gordon Gekko with a little improvisation; Beignets for a lack of a better word is good. Actually Beignets is great! Beignets is right. Beignets works. Beignets clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the classical culinary spirit! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did and continue to visit as much as I do which will probably be on a weekly basis if I have my way. Until next time...

Beignets et le cafe
121 Wall Street
Spokane, WA 99201
(509) 315-5653

Beignets on Urbanspoon

Additional Script:


And for those seeking competitive Brazilian style Jiu-Jitsu from a more than accomplished instructor who can articulate the motions of this intricate sport to quickly submit opponents while providing an extremely friendly team environment or if you’re just looking to rappel out of a helicopter, physically assault a sentry with hand to hand combat, and slide across a boardroom table gunning down a room full of generals with an AK-47 filled to the brim with simunition rounds, then Newborn - Cascao Jiu-Jitsu is the place for you!

Newborn - Cascao Jiu-Jitsu
1510 N Monroe
Spokane, WA 99201
(702) 265-6520