Posts Tagged With: funny food blog

Heartbreak Hotel

I always wondered what bored billionaires do. Because if you think about it, they’ve probably done it all, right? Jumped out of airplanes (morons), rode elephants, sailed around the world in a boat (morons), bought tropical islands, rubbed elbows with the stars (morons) and collected every vehicle they dreamt about since they were little… just to name a few things. Well, I found out what one of ‘em does when I went to his hotel to have lunch the other day at the Four Seasons Westlake Village.

Now before I go on, just take that in for a moment…

…Four Seasons Westlake Village.

To me, that’s another moron… an oxymoron.  

There’s the Four Seasons London, the Four Season Tokyo, the Four Seasons Milan, the Four Seasons St. Petersburg, the Four Seasons Paris, the Four Seasons Hong Kong (just to name a few), and the Four Seasons… Westlake Village. Do you hear that slow, steady, high-pitched squeaking? That’s hot air seeping out of a deflating balloon. Or the taco I ate yesterday… one of the two.

If you were to utter “How disappointing” right at this moment, it would be a major understatement.

My point is, who the hell in their right mind goes to vacation in Westlake friggin’ Village?! This “Dole” guy, the one who owns the hotel, thinks there are a lot of people who would. The Dole to which I’m referring is… yep, the pineapple guy! I can’t make this shit up, people. A canned pineapple guy wants world-traveling jet-setters to come to Westlake Village to vacation. And apparently, to hold onto their youth too, because the hotel is a “Longevity Center and Spa” as well as a hotel managed by a world-class company.

*snicker*      *snort*       *guffaw*

Okay, okay I have to admit, WLV (Westlake Village) competes with BH (Beverly Hills) for the most nips, tucks and sucks for both men and women, and the only natural breasts you’re gonna find there are the ones on the fresh roasted turkey at Gelson’s supermarket, so I get the “longevity” thing. But there’s nothing world-class about WLV. Unless you consider The Housewives’ franchise compelling television, then it’s world-class.

So this bored billionaire has a hotel, and let me just say this: He has zero taste; the place is hideous. As you enter, it almost takes your breath away… and not in a good way either. You initially have hope that it’s going to be spectacular, then you see a giant, ornate crystal chandelier juxtaposed with what can only be described as “stuffy lawyer’s office” decor. It’s like a cross between Bette Midler, Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump.

Like I said, hideous.

I went there to luncheon with… Jesus Christ, I just said “luncheon”… this kooky doctor who practices Functional Medicine, whatever the hell that means! I guess it’s some new-age, hocus-pocus healing practice where they align your chakras, stick needles in your face, and then try to sell you Amway. 

boulders

Amway… I mean, anyway, forget why I was there with a kooky, new-age doctor, let’s talk about the food. 

I ordered a sandwich.

Now if I thought 10 bucks was a lot of dough *snicker* for a shitty sandwich, like the one in my last post, this one was astronomical. It was double the price, which nearly gave me a goddamn heart attack! Luckily I was luncheon…ing with a doctor, even if she was kooky.

I ordered their vegetarian sandwich on account of I was still trying to eat healthily. Well forget that shit because as soon as they brought out some bread and butter, I was in it to win it! That was a mistake. As soon as I bit into a piece I almost chipped a tooth on the stuff; it was like hard leather! They happen to offer dentistry services there at the “Longevity” center, so I guess they start out your stay by breaking some of your goddamn teeth. What lacked in tenderness though was made up for with absolutely nothing because the flavor was awful too. 

My sandwich was composed of grilled eggplant and portabella with fennel slaw, swiss cheese, sprouts, arugula pesto and a spicy harrissa vinaigrette served on tomato foccaccia. Sounds delicious, right? Well it shoulda been, but somehow Dole managed to make it completely tasteless, and really, it makes complete sense because we’re talking about someone who makes canned pineapple for a living. Plus his decor is tasteless, so there you go. The eggplant and portabella were dry and rubbery, so when I bit into it with my now fragile teeth, it was like biting into a bicycle tire. I couldn’t discern any fennel slaw or arugula pesto flavor either, and harrissa, which is normally a gorgeous, fruity, spicy pepper relish with tons of flavor, was dumbed down with mayonnaise; hardly a “vinaigrette” as they called it. The greens that were served on the side were delicious, but there were dry because the dressing was pooled at the bottom of the plate, and I have yet to meet someone who doesn’t want to toss my salad.

The only thing that saved this dish was the view overlooking the waterfall made from the gigantic boulders that the Dole guy had supposedly transported from Thailand. That was nice. I guess. 

So that answers my question about what bored billionaires do after they’ve done it all. They open hotels and serve bland food.

How boring.

Four Seasons Hotel, Lobby Lounge restaurant

Two Dole Drive

Westlake Village, CA

818.575.3000

Categories: Best food blog, Food, Funny, Humor, Sandwiches, Sarcasm, Satire | Tags: , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Don’t Sweat The Small Stuff

What is it with these type-A personalities?

You know, the ones who like to drive their BMWs right up your ass or cut you off because you aren’t driving fast enough for them because they’re jacked up on 64 ounces of Starbucks, hold the foam?… the ones who are rude to wait staff and usually undertip?… the ones who’s snot-nosed brats go to an overpriced, cult Christian school and eat sushi for lunch?… you know, the ones that live in Westlake and Agoura?…

…what’s up with them?

I’ll tell you what’s up with them; they’re weak and deep down inside, they really hate themselves. Have you ever noticed they’re always beating themselves up? You can spot ‘em at the gym; they’re the ones doing the most difficult, competitive, grunt-inducing class they possibly can. The one where the instructor berates them and calls them a fat loser, even though they have zero body fat, and they eat it up!

Because they don’t like themselves and like to be shamed. I’m telling you, that’s exactly what it is. Why else put yourself through such torture? You can work out and get healthy without pushing yourself to the brink of a hernia (that’s where the guy’s own body betrays him and sucks one of his balls up inside his body cavity, isn’t that disgusting?!) Personally, I would never date a guy who’s missing a ball. You need to have two if you wanna be with Clever Girl… hmm, maybe even three!

“Hey Mr. Overachiever, why not put down the 200 lb. weights, take a goddamn yoga class and chill the hell out? Then maybe you won’t be compelled to run my ass off the road in your Beemer!”

I never liked BMWs.

I’s not just the guys either, there are plenty of skinny bitches out there that are type-A too. They’re the ones texting on their diamond-encrusted iPhone while picking up their brats from school, clogging up the roads with their giant SUVs!

I never liked SUVs.

But I digress…

When I was in Westlake (yes, I had to go there the other day) I noticed that they were gonna open up one of those spin class places. You know, the ones the Type-A personalities take on a stationary bicycle (isn’t that an oxymoron?) It’s gonna be called Sweat Shop. Gee, that’s ironic. It simultaneously pokes fun at the very factories where the Nike workout gear they wear to class is made by that 13 year-old who gets paid a dollar an hour, and implies that you get to sweat your one remaining ball off.

Nice job.

It’s a hot spin studio by the way… that’s where they heat the room up to like, 100 degrees or something to add to the experience. That’s the new trend for the self-loathing; hot work-out rooms. It wasn’t enough for them to get their bony ass up on a bike seat that’s an inch wide and mega-peddle their way through an hour’s class, all while inhaling the body odor of the maniac on the bike next to them… they figured they’d add some heat. It’s a win-win!

Perfect.

Well while they’re beating themselves up, I’ll be across the parking lot eating delicious Belgian delights at Le Pain QuotidienThey’ve always had locations in such snotty asshole places, like Los Angeles and Calabasas, so I guess they figured they’d round it off and come to Westlake… yay!

LPQ (short for Le Pain Quotidien) is a bakery/restaurant/snotty hangout where you can enjoy some of the best breads, croissants and egg dishes anywhere! And it’s about time because this area has been seriously lacking good breakfast joints. But they don’t only do breakfast, they do lunch and dinner too.

No sweat!

No sweat!

I ordered a goat cheese and oyster mushroom omelet and the eggs were so fresh tasting and fluffy, it was like a puffy egg-cloud. Those Mexican Belgians sure know how to make an omelet! The only thing I didn’t like about it was the pesto drizzled over it, which was not mentioned on the description, otherwise I would have asked that they leave it off. But it came with some organic greens lightly dressed with a lemony vinaigrette and two slices of their fabulous bread, which was perfect!

The best part is the homemade jams and chocolate spreads that they put on the table that you can slather your bread with. They have several choices; dark chocolate, milk with hazelnut, and white chocolate, which is my personal favorite… and probably Westlake’s too, since it’s white. They also have a couple others but I have to limit myself to trying just one, otherwise I’ll have to start working out with crazies next door.

Oh, you’re probably wondering how the hell to pronounce Le Pain Quotidien too, right? Well how the hell should I know? I’m not Belgian (thank God!), but all you’ll have think about when you go there, is what type of chocolate spread you’re gonna eat on your bread…

…and if the sweaty guy leaving spin class still has both of his balls.

Le Pain Quotidien

2728 Townsgate Road

Westlake, CA

795.9762

Categories: Breakfast, Brunch, Food, Humor, Satire | Tags: , , , , | 4 Comments

Blog at WordPress.com.

Break Room Stories

Service Industry Stories and More Since 2012

%d bloggers like this: