Letters to the Editor
Yes, and They're Made of Iron!It took a lot of balls to run that picture on page 20 ("My Life as a Eunuch" Bob Whitby, May 25).
It's great to see a South Florida publication willing to take some chances. Keep up the great work!
¿Como Se Dice Angry and Rambling?Attention New Times readers. There is an evil force lurking out there by the name of Jen Karetnick. As many of you may have read in the recent review, ("¿Como Se Dice Rotten ?" Jen Karetnick, May 25), what review (???), that piece of work was a direct hit, more vicious than Hurricane Andrew! The writer found fault with every single item that touched her table and even took on the City of Hollywood with a challenge that we should be deleted from the ghost town of Hollywood.
Our answer to you, Ms. Evil: Don't give up those creative-writing classes, perhaps the student should have stayed after class and worked with the professor, as your writing skills are greatly lacking and obviously there is not a professional bone in your body.
You begin a restaurant/business review (???) with a story of your own brat wringing her diaper -- give us a break. Obviously the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. When you sling s**t you are bound to get hit in the face with it.
A few facts that a professional writer would have researched -- our advertising clearly states we offer live flamenco Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Shame on you for not researching. Please, every business makes adjustments. We may be the only restaurant in a 50-mile radius that does not own a microwave, and our floor is not slate but rather extremely expensive individual tiles. I must assume you have a gaggle of stray cats to feed as you took the paella home with you! While you are concentrating on running after your diaper-whirling darling and spewing vicious unfounded garbage, our loyal repeat customers and fellow merchants are outraged and banding together to do everything we can to get the word of your unprofessional evilness out.
By the way, be sure to give that editor of yours a big kiss, when responding to my e-mail he responded, "Jen Karetnick has years of experience, and we've found her work to be accurate, and we stand by the review." I wonder has he read any of your work? Is there any professionalism at work at the New Times besides your wonderful sales staff, who you single-handedly make life impossible for with your rambling commentaries? Remember this Ms. Karetnick, those people make it possible for you to get a paycheck, not that your rambling warrants one.
Do all of us struggling merchants a favor: The next time you can't get a sitter and are having a bad day of morning-evening sickness, stay home and away from us. Everything seems bad to pregnant women, perhaps you should take your taste buds and attitude on maternity leave!
Gail Winer, Sami Aziz, Chef Giovanni,
and staff of Estrella Del Mar
Jen Karetnick responds: Rather than criticizing my writing skills, the owners and chef of Estrella Del Mar should be sharpening their reading comprehension. In my recent review, I wrote, "According to the press release, the restaurant features a variety of Spanish wines, nightly flamenco dancers, and authentic cuisine." Yes, every business does make adjustments -- and those that do follow up incorrect press releases with correct ones, especially those who have been actively seeking media interest. But since the proprietors wish to call attention to both their advertisements and the advertising staff at New Times, I feel compelled to point out that the editorial and advertising departments at the paper are separate entities. We operate independently of each other, which allows the critics on the editorial staff the freedom and integrity to state their true opinions without being unduly influenced by the clients of the sales staff. My review, therefore, was not a "restaurant/business review," but a restaurant review, and I stand by it regardless of how it "make[s] life impossible" for our "wonderful sales staff."
As for the floor, I apologize for calling it "slate" rather than "extremely expensive individual tiles" that are slate-hued. I am also sorry that the proprietors feel the need to address such minor points while deliberately missing the major one: The cuisine here needs some serious work. If the empanada wasn't microwaved, I hesitate to imagine why it was so unpalatably soggy. And yes, I did consent to take the paella home -- after sending nearly every dish back to the kitchen, I began to feel sorry for the waitress, who was the only one in the restaurant who seemed to feel responsible for our meal. If the proprietors had checked the trash bin located outside their neighbor's door, they would have found the package. To tell the truth, as I already have once, I would have been afraid to feed the contents to my cats, stray or otherwise.
As for my editor, while I do enjoy working with him, I think I'll pass on kissing him. The father of my unborn baby might just have a little trouble with such a personal embrace.
If They Lived Here, We WouldIsn't it like you guys to try to find dirt on someone [Donato Dalrymple] even if it doesn't have to do with that person ("Fifteen Minutes of Infamy," Bob Norman, May 4)?
If dirt by association should be your charge, please try to find some dirt on Jesse Jackson, Ted Turner, or Hillary's famed visit to Cuba in the 1960s -- if you dare, because these people will put your little rag paper under!
via the Internet
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