TGIF with No Reservations

It came up on my Netflix cue, just like that. Starring my old friend, the artist formerly known as Catherine Zeta-Jones. Where has she been? Ever since those T-Mobile commercials, I've wondered, is she the same person? Something around the mouth, nose. And on SNL last year, when she tap danced, I was frightened her legs would snap for kindling. Maybe she just looks different in every picture. Maybe it's hard to raise two kids and sleep with OMP* Douglas every night. I'll always love her, especially in America's Sweethearts.

No Reservations is trite (or shall I say trout?) fare--cold bitch, who can cook, inherits traumatized niece when her effervescent sister dies. Summoning a mother's love, cold bitch thaws, helped on by a rebel-rogue-pain-in-the-ass sous chef played by Aaron Eckhart, i.e. the hot guy from Erin Brockovich. Romance ensues, followed by a misunderstanding, child running away, pairing together to find the screwed-up kid, thawed ice queen fights for her pan and love ensues again. The two quirky chefs start their own bistro and break child labor laws by using niece as a waitress. But it was a feast for Dish at the end of a ghastly day.

The best part? Classic romance cliche: When Aaron and Catherine share his Tiramisu. She gets a dab in the corner of her mouth and he wipes it off. So romantic when a girl slobbers. I eats a hot dog slathered with French's mustard, and each time, I make sure to leave yellow goo in the corner of my lips. BF totally gets turned on.

And yet, this isn't the worst movie ever made. Abigail Breslin is freakishly good in a non-Dakota-Fanning way. I just hope she doesn't grow into the strange girl who sits in the back row of class and eats her hair.

*Old Man Penis