Saint's Alp Almond Milk Tea

I'm sitting with my sister Sarah at Saint's Alp Teahouse in Chinatown and we both really wanted to call this blog ARAT. This word (also a Middle Eastern movie title), is the sounds our mother makes when has what she likes to call, europhasia. We think this is just another word for intestinal gas that leads to burping. We decided it was too mean to name a blog after our dear mother's gaseous tendencies, we we settled on Grossmanuscript. Sarah will not be blogging on this site, but I hope she will comment. I will be writing when I want to—thoughts, experiences, comments, tasty things I ate that day (or drank like the awesome almond milk tea at this hidden gem Chinatown teahouse) or anything else that's on my mind. What's still on my mind right now is the Wyclef concert we went to last night at the House of Blues, which was as my sister just commented "off the hook." I'd have to agree. Wyclef was looking fine for his age of 40-something (?) and had enough energy to literally bounce of the walls and balconies of the House of Blues. He sang a bunch of songs off his new album, but kicked it old-school with some Fugee's favorites. It was Sarah's first hip hop show and House of Blues concert and it's one she'll never forget.
We are off to get our hair straightened, which is pretty much comparable to a hit of crack for a junkie. Then we are dining at Le Colonial followed by a lame party at Manor for the launch of a Chicago restaurant guide book I helped write. Tomorrow it's back to the daily grind..