floatin' an air biscuit

YUMMEROOOOO!!!

2010-09-19T16:15:00.000-07:00

New beginnings!

Follow me at http://yummerooooo.blogspot.com/ ... ! ! !

MOVE OVER NYC & CHICAGO... MAKE WAY FOR NEW HAVEN'S APIZZA

2010-05-22T18:18:00.000-07:00

The age-old question of 'which city's pizza is the best' will probably never come to pass. Years and years have gone by where New Yorkers and Chicagoans have laid claim to having the best pie of the land. And, depending on where you come from, you may very well agree with one or the other.

I, for one, was never a pizza aficionado... probably due to the fact that the DC area isn't exactly known for a clandestine mastery of the "apizza." (And no, I'm not even going to hint anything at all about Adams Morgan's infamous Jumbo Slice, which is delicious if you can't walk straight after a night of excessive drinking.)

Even as a college student, I preferred junkin' out on wings, instant ramen, and cheap Chinese take-out over Papa John's, Domino's, or Pizza Hut. If pizza is in the room, then sure - I'd grab a slice. But it's never been my first choice. As of late, I've found that I'm more inclined to dine over any pizza that isn't advertised on TV. (Uh, Domino's? Gross.)

I recently had a chance to visit the city of New Haven in Connecticut when I was a part of my friend's wedding there. It was my first time in CT, and the only thing I really had to go on was whatever my friend, Jess, told me of the place. New Haven is her hometown, and her deep Italian roots are very much institutionalized there. It is home to a sizable Italian American community, and this was especially prevalent in a little area denoted as New Haven's "Little Italy," just outside of Yale's ivy league campus.

My friend, Leah, and I made a pit stop at NH's Little Italy before we hopped on a train back to the DC area. Our mission: to have a taste of New Haven's slice of life.

We walked past a few places, one of which had a line spilling outside its doors. While we decided to skip out on the place that was suggested to us, we ended up at a cozy spot called Abate Apizza & Seafood Restaurant. A quaint spot with a "moms & pops" feel, it was the perfect place to lunch aI fresco.

In all my randomness, I ordered a cup of coffee... and we ordered fries (of course), a meatball sub, and a white pizza (sans tomato sauce, which I love, and topped with slices of fresh tomatoes). The French fries were as delicious as any Italian American could've made them (ha!), and the meatballs were tasty in all their tomato-esque glory (with an equally crisp, yet soft, Italian bread embracing them). And the pizza -- so simple, yet absolutely delicious.

Thin crust? Check.

While the crust fell a little on the bland side, its cracker-like texture around the edges made for a yum canvas for the deliciousness that lay on top of it. It certainly made for a very tasty pie, and since we were stuffed, we delighted in the fact that we now had food for the train ride. (So much better than the gross microwaved hot dogs that you pay an arm and a leg for at the cafe car.)

I, unfortunately, didn't have a camera on hand since my parents had taken theirs with them on their trip outside the country... and my camera is out of commission. But luckily, I did find pics from a fellow blogger named Robyn, who hosts a very nice food blog of her own: The Girl Who Ate Everything. So these photos belong to her:

New Haven's Abate Apizza & Seafood Restaurant (Photo courtesy of The Girl Who Ate Everything)

White Pie w/Fresh Tomato Slices (Photo courtesy of The Girl Who Ate Everything)

For me, New Haven pizza now tops my list... with New York pizza trailing just behind. Who knew?!
--

Abate Apizza & Seafood Restaurant, 129 Wooster St., New Haven, CT 06511, 203-776-4334

I SECRETLY WANT THIS...

2010-05-18T09:35:00.000-07:00

This is my out-of-left-field thought of the day:

I secretly want this...

But since the price tag is making me quiver, I could easily go for this instead:

It's like comparing apples and oranges, I know. One is a full-on carry-on day bag, and the other is a work bag; I could go for either since I'm on the hunt for something functional in both respects. We shall see, though. I'm totally in need of a "happy birthday to me" kind of purchase, and these are definitely in line. Ha!

BANNER EXAMPLE

2010-05-11T06:51:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I was following the updates on the Philippine Elections (Halalan 2010). I ended up landing on a page with an article that somehow sparked my interest. To my horror, this is what came up:

OK, so it wasn't really the article that caused my stomach to churn, but the two - NOT ONE, BUT TWO - banner placements to "Find Your Filipina Beauty Today!"

Are you effin' kidding me?!

So, it's actually no surprise since Southeast Asian women have been objectified for as long as I can recall. And it doesn't matter which ASEAN nation you come from: Thailand, Indonesia, Vietnam, The Philippines --- they all fall prey to the world of "Mail Order Brides." I think I was just too shocked to see the banners, since it had been a while since I've been exposed to this kind of objectification and exploitation of my fellow Filipino (Filipina, in this case).

Shame on entertainmentandshowbiz.com for allowing such an add to run in this space. And to allow it to pop-up with an article on the Philippine elections makes it all the more disgusting.

THE 'CUPCAKE CRAZE' WAS NOT BORN IN DC

2010-04-27T07:02:00.001-07:00

I blogged about the cupcake craze a while back, and now that I'm back in DC it seems that the "craze" hasn't simmered down one bit... not here, at least. And that's fine, because no matter how I look at it I think that I personally have an affinity to cupcakes (and all things baked). Blame my inner fat boy. (sigh)

Anyway, I had chatted with a foodie-friend about the DC area's cupcake craze --err, insanity is more like it, and how I'm partially over it not so much because of the cupcakes themselves, but because of some of the ridiculous things that I've been seeing online from my fellow Washingtonians. In the past few months I've read someone comment that the DC area is the "home" of the cupcake craze. Right. (yawn) I've also read someone's inner-most thoughts that DC will somehow become known for the cupcake, much in the same way that Philadelphia is known for their cheese steaks. Preposterous, I know.

Now, I love my hometown. In fact, there probably couldn't be a person more proud to be a home-grown Washington-area local as myself. But at the same time, I like to keep things real, and I always have to put things into perspective. I must refute these so-called ideas of Washington, DC and the cupcake craze...

#1. First and foremost, DC is not home of the cupcake craze. DC did not create the phenomenon, nor is it a pioneer in the process. Look back to 1988. NYC. Hell's Kitchen, to be exact. A little place called the Cupcake Cafe had opened up, and was one - if not the first - original shops dedicated to the cupcake. Then in 1996, NYC's now famous Magnolia Bakery picked up the momentum... blasting the cupcake into stardom through vehicles like "Sex and The City." Local NYCers then went on to other parts of the country to start their own (ie, Sprinkles in Beverly Hills).

NYC's Cupcake Cafe - possibly the birthplace of the cupcake craze (Photo from http://comradechufood.blogspot.com)

Sprinkles Cupcakes in Beverly Hills (Photo from http://www.ozoux.com)

DC's cupcake craze eventually followed, and with much pomp and circumstance. And the craze only continues to flourish. With outposts like DC's Hello Cupcake and Fairfax Corner's Cupcakes Actually --both of which seem to be molded by the Buttercup Bake Shop/Sprinkles format-- the non-franchised aspect of the DC-area cupcakeries make it such an appeal, which can be problematic for franchises such as Long Island's Crumbs Bake Shop and BH's Sprinkles Cupcakes, both of which are expected to make their DC debut very soon. But the craze has only proven that there seems to be room for all. We shall see.

#2. Whoever had the bright idea that DC would become known for its cupcakes is seriously in need of a serious foodie re-eval. Who would compare a "DC" cupcake to a Philly cheese steak, or a NY pizza? I mean, honestly?! I shake my head in disbelief. If there is a food item in the DC area that comes close to taking the fame of being "indigenous" or our "trademark," it would be the half-smoke.

#3. The craze (which is sort of 5-minutes ago) seemed to have picked-up in DC a lot better than the Pinkberry-esque froyo craze that also enveloped the nation at one point. (And, no - DC definitely did NOT start that craze either.) But since DC is much smaller than other major cities, and because the cupcakeries tend to be populated in/around the same general area, one would probably think that - yes, the cupcake craze surely has its roots in DC. But yeah, not so much.

DC's own Baked & Wired in Georgetown (Photo from http://cupcakesomg.blogspot.com, a pretty cool blog if I say so myself...)

Anyway. I just had to set the record straight. I love that DC has embraced cupcake culture with open arms, but - as it is with everything else - a little humility will go a long way. Know history, know truth; no history, no truth.

(Haha.)

CURRENT OBSESSION: KRUNCHERS

2010-04-26T10:10:00.000-07:00

I have been lagging with this blog, and I even went through March without a single post! The sad part is that March was full of some amazing experiences. I'll have to revert one of these days. In the meantime, I'll just dish about my current obsession of sorts: Krunchers kettle potato chips.

I'm seriously obsessed, especially with the Sweet Maui Onion flavor. And I don't even really understand how or why I am so enamored by such greasiness and crunch! But if you strip it all down, it's precisely just that: greasiness and crunch... (and flavor, too.) These chips ooze with them.

This is definitely a lame post, but whatever. I'm sure that this blurb will make you at least go out and grab a bag, and join in on the yum-ness that are these chips.

Ha.

KIM, ASADA, & ROCHETTE (with Nagasu on their tails!)

2010-02-27T12:48:00.000-08:00

As we come to the end of another Olympics, I must say that I'm pretty flabbergasted at how fast time is passing by. I feel like I had just rang in the new year not long ago, and now I'm literally a day and a half away from March. Time flies.

And again, another Winter Olympics is on its way out.

I have to talk about the marquis event of the games -err, what the media tends to bill as "THE marquis event of the Winter Olympics" ... Women's Figure Skating.

No surprise, the fight for the finish was between the skating world's top two: South Korea's Yu-Na Kim (who took home the gold), and Japan's Mao Asada (who took home the silver). And each of them created records for the sport, and themselves. Kim's overall score is the highest ever in women's skating under the latest scoring system, and Asada became the first woman ever to land a triple jump (Axel, was it?) three times at an international event -- 1 in her short program, and 2 in her free skate. They both have much reason to be proud, as do their respective countries.

The bronze was the medal up for grabs, with several of the world's top skaters vying for the podium including Japan's Miki Ando (2007 World Champion), and the current U.S. ladies' top two finishers - Rachel Flatt and Mirai Nagasu. But the honors would go to Canada's Joannie Rochette, who - despite the passing of her mom just days prior to the ladies' short program - won the hearts of her fellow Canadians (and the world) by skating and pouring out her heart on the ice.

Not to be outdone, Mirai Nagasu - the 2008 U.S. Ladies Singles Champion - bested team mate, and current U.S. Ladies Singles Champion, Rachel Flatt, by finishing in 4th overall behind Rochette. Both of Nagasu's programs were seasonal and personal bests, and she was more than happy to finish where she did in her "maiden" Olympics berth. She was 6th going into the free skate, and finished 5th after.

Olympian-sized feats: Kim after receiving the highest scores ever in the ladies' overall, and an ecstatic Nagasu learning of her un-predicted 4th overall finish (just missing the podium) at the Games (Photos: Jamie Squire/Cameron Spencer/Getty)

Flatt skated a perfect, albeit conservative, long program. While she landed all of her jumps, and completed a clean routine, her combined overall score was good enough for an overall finish of 7th place (she placed 5th in the ladies' short, and 8th in the free skate).

Not a bad finish for the U.S. women, considering none of them were favorites to stand atop the podium. And with 12.49 points separating Nagasu from Rochette, it goes to show that the current U.S. silver medalist is now among the top skaters in the world.

Here is where I will get a little stank...

After the performance of Flatt and Miki Ando, I happened to be on Twitter, and noticed that Rachel Flatt was trending. I had to check out what that was all about, and to my non-surprise a lot of the 'tweets' were well wishes for her clean free skate. But soon, those well wishes turned into horror at the realization that Miki Ando had placed above Flatt for what seemed to be a not-so-great performance. Well, while that may be true -- I have to be real for a second... Yes, Rachel Flatt did well, but how can you compare her athleticism to Miki Ando's? Clearly, the reason why Miki was given higher marks is because she had harder elements. She may have had less speed in her program, but truth be told... she done jumped her ass off. Rachel Flatt's program, while a personal victory - and one that she should be proud of, was just a tad "flat" compared to the free skate routines of the other contenders, hence the 8th place finish.

To me, Rachel Flatt is a good skater, but not in the mold that superstars are made from. I truly believe she was lucky with her win at the U.S. nationals. She edges out her competition technically, however artistically I don't find her as appealing as other skaters like Nagasu. Where Mirai tends to fall short technically (she tends to face down-grades for under/over rotation with her landings), she excels artistically over Flatt. Nagasu has the potential to be as charismatic on ice as Michelle Kwan or Sasha Cohen. Flatt - well - eh...

That's just my opinion. Haha!

WORST. FRIES. EVER. (or not)

2010-02-25T06:50:00.000-08:00

Those of you who know me well also know that when it comes to fries, my knees go weak. (French) Fries are practically my kryptonite. Sad, I know. How anyone can deny the awesomeness that are fries baffles me to no end.

Yahoo! Health recently posted an article titled "America's Worst French Fries (and What You Should Eat Instead)." Penned by two editors from Men's Health magazine, the article goes right into some of the "worst" fry options in several categories. Based on their findings, this is what we now know of American fries:

WORST CURLY FRIES: Arby's Curly Fries (Large), clocking in at 640 calories & 34 grams of fat. (The 'better' option from Arby's? An order of small Homestyle Fries, with roughly half the calories and fat.)

WORST WEDGE FRIES: Jack in the Box Bacon Cheddar Wedges, with 715 calories & 45 grams of fat. (Incidentally, I don't remember these being on Jack's menu...?!)

Best of the worst: Arby's Curly Fries & Jack in the Box's cheddar cheese fries

WORST FRIES FOR YOUR BLOOD PRESSURE: Dairy Queen Chili Cheese Fries, which boasts a whopping 1,240 calories. Why anyone would want fries from "Dairy Queen" is beyond me. Hello, ice cream and/or Blizzards only. Thanks.

WORST REGULAR ORDER OF FRIES: Large order of Five Guys Fries, which truly is a sopping mess of 1,424 calories. Fat. Pure fat. (They say that a half serving of their regular fries is better.)

WORST FRIES IN AMERICA: Chili's Texas Cheese Fries w/Jalapeno Ranch ---which sounds amazing...! But for 1,920 cals, not so much. Again, Chili's offers "homestyle fries" as the "better" option. *YAWN*

Apparently, the best fries in America still go to those Golden Arches. A small order of McD's french fries are still the best in the U.S. Which doesn't say much. For those who are actually a little more worldly, and believe that - yes, there is a world outside the United States, you must know that America simply does NOT have the best fries in the world. While the French may have coined the term, my heart (and vote) actually goes out to the Belgians, whose frites are simply the best fried potato sticks in all the Universe & World! (Note: The DC area needs to get on the bandwagon and open up a frites shop. DC, why are you so 10 years later with stuff, like cupcakes...?) And how genius are they for their specialty "dipping sauces...?" Gosh, I love those Belgians. Between their frites, their waffles, and their beers -- I just don't know which tops that totem pole. I give them all a big, fat '10!'

frjtz: My favorite Belgian frites shop in San Francisco

Special mention, however, goes out to the Canadians... French Canadians, to be exact. After all, they are the geniuses who were the promulgators of the ever-so-popular-yet-disgusting-at-the-same-time fries with gravy. And I'm not talking about the lame American version. The French Canadian Poutine Québécoise is a carefully prepared dish of French fries, topped with fresh cheese curd, covered with brown gravy. (No, I'm not talking about cheap-a$$ American cheese in a can, either.) Poutine has evolved to become a popular "greasy spoon" staple in Quebec, and most of Canada, spawning versions that crossed both the American and Mexican borders. (Think American cheese fries, or Mexican carne asada fries; the latter being YUM.)

Poutine Québécoise (Photo: Francis Vachon)

Needless to say, I have just gained an additional 7,000 pounds writing/typing this post. Yum.

VALENTINE'S DAY (THE MOVIE)

2010-02-20T11:50:00.000-08:00

When I first saw the trailer for this film, the first couple of things that came to my mind were: 1) this is going to be a sad "American" attempt at Love Actually, and 2) this is going to be a hot mess of a movie --what, with all of the stars billed to be in it. However, because I tend to be a closeted sucker for cheese-on-the screen (and because I can't keep from checking out an Anne Hathaway or Jessica Alba film), I coaxed my non-Valentiney friend to come along. (Thanks, Shen! xo) Despite the unfortunate ratings, I thought that it turned out to be quite entertaining.

I won't say much about the plot since I don't want to give away any spoilers; it's still pretty new in theaters. I will say that Gary Marshall put together a pretty witty and clever film that delves into the different situations and aspects of our humanity as it revolves around the theme of "love." Whether it's falling in love with the wrong person, and missing out on the right one... or loving unconditionally... or learning to love yourself first --- there is a scenario in this film that will make sense to everyone.

Oh, and there are a few surprises. Some things to note: the story line centering on Grey's Anatomy's "McSteamy" (Eric Dane) will throw you, and the pair-up of Anne Hathaway and Topher Grace is surprisingly adorable. (Yes, I just said "adorable.") Interestingly, Emma Roberts stars alongside her aunt, Julia (Roberts)... though their characters' story lines don't physically interact. And the film serves as a reunion of sorts for Jennifer Garner and Ashton Kutcher (Dude, Where's My Car?).

In no way is this film a replication of the greatness that is Love Actually, but the cadence of the lives of the characters involved moves at a good pace, and the intertwining story lines are not far-fetched. In fact, it came off as real as can be. (And for once, Ashton did not make me want to gag.)

It also made me miss Los Angeles again. Much of the filming took place in many parts of L.A.: the Venice canals, Beverly Hills, the Valley... bringing a glint to my eyes.

And for Gary Marshall / Julia Roberts fans, you'd be wise to stick around for the gag reel that runs with the credits.

HIGH ON VANCOUVER

2010-02-19T19:08:00.000-08:00

I am riding high on the Olympic wave right now.

I get like this every other year; every year of the games. I don't know what gets me more. It's a toss-up between the emotional and awe-inspiring opening and closing ceremonies, the drama-soaked stories created by NBC, the showmanship and camaraderie of the athletes, or the actual sports. Everything from downhill to short track to figure skating, hockey, and even snowboarding just seems to get me all the time. For the two weeks of the games I find myself totally gripping with anticipation as U.S. team members race to finish lines, or choking back tears as I hear the heart-tugging stories about struggle and redemption.

On the flip, it also turns into a forum for controversy. "Artistic" sports always trudge the fine line between objectivity and subjectivity. Case in point: figure skating. For many, the "sport" is probably the least "sporty." But for many still, it is the crowning jewel of the games... the epitome of what the games have become. Olympic figure skaters are pretty much like vampires compared to lycans... the princes/princesses compared to the paupers... they order the filet, and not the "chopped" steak --you get the point. I'm not sure how much I believe that myself, but when you look at it from the outside, that's what it looks like. It's probably the make-up and costumes. (...and the bows and standing ovations. Ha.)

Year after year, though, it finds its way to controversy. Some blame the new judging system, others blame tactical antics of the athletes themselves. Yes, that means you - Tonya Harding. This year's competition was definitely a dog fight for the men. Usually, an Olympic year gives way to a dramatic ladies' or pairs' competition. And in Torino back in '06 the fight on the ice was with the ice dancers. In 2010, however, the draw went to the fellas.

Evan Lysacek, the current U.S. champion, edged out reigning Olympic gold medalist Evgeni Plushenko from Russia. The last time a U.S. man won the gold in the sport was back in 1988 (Brian Boitano). The controversy in Vancouver: Evan didn't have a quad.

While Plushenko has acquiesced, and offered his congratulations to Lysacek, it was done with much talk against the direction the sport is headed towards, as well as with much questioning of the overall system of judging and scoring. Issue is, Lysacek didn't include a quad in his program because of a foot injury. Plushenko landed his quad, although he did it with a lot less smoothness than we're used to seeing from him.

So is it fair to say that skating, and winning, without a quad lessens the integrity of the sport? Well, that's what Plushenko is crying. And he's not alone. Veteran Canadian skater, and Olympian, Elvis Stojko, agrees (see here). While I see where they are going with this, I can't say that I - personally - agree. If you breakdown their performances during the free skate, Plushenko was tough... but not in the way you'd think. He was hard-edged, and almost heavy with his jumps. Lysacek, on the other hand, was steel... remaining straight-bodied with his jumps, and landing them almost perfectly. If you were to pare down each performance, Evan's was 99% flawless. Evgeni, who is capable of 110%, seemed to only muster a measly 95 --which should say a lot about his talent since he's been out of international contention for a few years leading up to these games. That differentiating factor: Evan had a great-great skate.

Evgeni can't win all the time. Winning a silver medal after years away from the sport? That's not too shabby.

Plushenko & Lysecek on the podium in Vancouver (Photo: AFP)

---

I am in awe at how true the idea is about having "6 degrees of separation" from a complete stranger.

My games sort of started off with the return of Apolo Anton Ohno, and his band of short track speed skaters. I noticed he had two other Asian Americans as team mates: Korean American Simon Cho, and Polish/Filipino American JR Celski. Ohno and Celski finished 2nd and 3rd respectively in the 1500m race, earning their spots on the podium.

Living the dream: JR Celski (Photo: Matthew Stockman/Getty Images)

As I started to follow the duo and their teammates, a friend of mine pointed out 3-degrees of separation from JR; his two brothers were active members of YFC (Youth For Christ) in Seattle back in the day. But my sister shortened the gap when she told me that I actually know one of JR's older brothers, who is one of her friends through YFC. After putting two and two together, I finally figured it all out... and this whole thing goes to show that we do live in a small world after all. (Check out JR's story here.)

Now I'm totally caught between feeling star-struck, and feeling like that's my little brother there on the short track!

You gotta love these Olympic games. Here's to Evan Lysacek, Evgeni Plushenko, and the Asian American short track triad of Apolo, Simon, and my Filipino brotha JR Celski!

OLYMPIC HATERADE...

2010-02-17T20:01:00.001-08:00

Can we say "HATERS!!!"

[Viewpoint] Ohno: The undeserving medalist - INSIDE JoongAng Daily

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OH, VANCOUVER...

2010-02-13T13:43:00.000-08:00

The 2010 Winter Games is upon us! Err... it's upon Canada. But once again, the (American) world is being looped-in via NBC. Personally, the Olympics is something that I respect, and I am always in awe of the grandeur that comes with the games --from the athletic prowess of the world's best, to the special care that the host country brings... it is something that is much bigger than any of us. And above all, it is a time when the nations of the world know no borders, and come to share in the spirit of camaraderie and healthy competition.

There is definitely something special about being part of the Olympic games.

Unfortunately, the games of Vancouver have been set-off with a tragic start. Georgian luger, Nodar Kumaritashvili, was killed after a training run on the Whistler Sliding Centre some 125 kilometers north of the Olympic city. The track, which claimed about 25 crashes during the luge training run, has become known for being a very hard course. Recent crashes along the track have prompted concerns about its safety.

Nodar Kumaritashvili as he prepared to take-off on a practice run

The passing of Kumaritashvili put a damper on the opening day of the games, and is sure to resonate throughout the course of its run. The Georgian team decided to remain in competition in honor of their comrade, and walked during the parade of nations with proud, yet somber, faces. Team members from other nations threw their support by wearing black arm bands.

Yesterday evening, NBC opened their telecast with the unfortunate news, and they moved forward by showing a clip of the accident on national TV. Bloggers and fans alike have blasted the network for what they deem to be a poor choice. Onecommented: "It should have never been shown! I changed the channel not to be a part of such a shameless act. Do you think it would have aired if it was the producers son. NOT! Ratings at any and all cost!" Similarly, another had this to say: "They never should have shown that. They should have respected his family and the fact the he had just passed. The videos were very uncalled for."

That said, I have to say that when I later caught the broadcast on DVR, I believe that the broadcast of the video and subsequent photographs were prefaced with a warning. So to those who claim otherwise, do make note. Also, and in defense of the network, and more importantly the journalistic decision behind the airing of the clip, I am glad that the footage was showed. For one, it is a clear-cut reporting of what happened. It sheds some light on the plight that our athletes go through for these games. The Olympics are more than over-sensationalized glorification of celebrity athletes. It is a true competition, with sports that are not always safe. For me, seeing the clip reminded me of the heart that athletes like Kumaritashvili have for their sport, even if it means giving up their lives for it. Secondly, the media is damned if they do, and damned if they don't. I must say that there are many times when I find myself abhorred by what the media reports. However, with this report - despite the horrific truth about the accident - I was thankful not in a macabre kind of way. But I felt that the network was being truthful about what had happened, and it made me feel a sense of loss, something I probably wouldn't have felt at the same level had I not seen the clip of the tragic event.

If viewers found the clips disrespectful, then fine. They are entitled to their opinions. However, I didn't find anything about the reporting to be disrespectful at all. There weren't any needless comments that were made along with the report, and all that was said was merely the truth. While watching the accident made me sick to my stomach, at the same time I truly felt sadness for the athlete, his family and teammates, and all of those concerned with these games --a sadness I may not have truly been able to comprehend had NBC not shown us what happened.

So to the network I say "thank you" for not glossing-over the incident. It was a story that had to be told, and I feel like NBC did what they felt was right.

Now... on with the show, Vancouver!

AGAIN AND AGAIN AND 'AGAINN'

2010-01-29T07:05:00.000-08:00

Growing up in DC, I have always had a fascination of all things that are "across the pond." Everything from red telephone booths, to tea and scones, to 'bangers & mash' make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. And I remember going to London for the first time and really feeling how "old" the city really is. I know that DC and New York City are pretty old as well, but London - as you know - is pretty ancient. But London (and England as a whole) is a place that knows how to mesh its rich history with the current day, and it's definitely at the top of my list of favorite cities.

One of Britain's best contributions to society would have to be the "public house," or "pub" for short. The British are geniuses for setting up these establishments meant for the consumption of alcoholic beverages. Throw in a little pub grub like salted crisps, pasties, and fish & chips, and you've got one hell of a good time ahead.

In the early 90s, a counter culture in Britain began to stem from the iconic public house concept. As "foodie" culture began to evolve around the world, the British began to take the concept of a fully-operable restaurant placed within a pub. Thus, a renaissance in pub and dining culture in Britain was born, as was the concept of the "gastropub."

The gastropub may not be as gritty as a pub can be known to be, however it is still a place where drinks are enjoyed plentifully. Couple this with carefully prepared food that goes above and beyond "pub fare," and you've got yourself a laid-back, foodie paradise. On our side of the pond, AGAINN proudly serves as a great venue to hang-out, eat, and drink to your heart's contentment.

Pronounced "aguinn" (a-g-uin), this recent addition to Washington, DC's list of trendy restaurants bills itself as a "contemporary British Isles Bistro." Like most of the new food establishments that are popping up around the city, AGAINN prides itself in the sourcing and use of local produce, and meats and seafood that are more or less organic and sustainable.

At the helm of AGAINN is Executive Chef Wes Morton, who spent some time in London prior to the restaurant's opening. There he found inspiration for many of the restaurant's offerings. He also brings a wealth of experience from some of the restaurant world's top spots like Thomas Keller's Yountville, CA mainstay - French Laundry, Michel Richard's DC restaurant maven - Citronelle, and Houston's award-winning *17 restaurant at the Alden Hotel.

Like most of the city's new restaurants, it capitalizes on an industrialized space: stone & wood floors, dark metal accents, and dim lighting. Hardwood table tops line the glass-windowed walls along the side of the restaurant, while booths and banquettes occupy the middle --giving that added touch of comfort that you'd usually find in a classic pub. The bar area is bustling, and the libations are plentiful. Beer on tap, beer in bottles, and top shelf alcohol (along with well selections) are of importance here. Like any restaurant, an extensive wine list is offered, as well as an interesting "Scotch List" which is sure to bring out the Englishman in all of us. At the bar I ordered a Manhattan as I waited for my table, and I can honestly say that the attention to detail that the mixologist gave to my drink perhaps made it the absolute best Manhattan (with Maker's) that I've ever had.

Public House elements: a partial view of one of several dining areas, and the Scotch collection

The food, just as well, was not a disappointment. My friends and I decided to partake in the 'restaurant week' menu that was being offered. Two of us decided to start with the pan-seared diver scallops, which were served on a bed of sunchoke puree & watercorss broth, with parsnip crisps as a garnish. The scallops were cooked perfectly, and were 'melt-in-your-mouth' good. Another friend went with the beetroot salad: a mixture of frisee, walnuts, young goat cheese, and honey dressing; a light and flavorful start to dinner. For the main course, my friends both went with the Tamworth pork belly, which was served with Anson Mill's white grits, smoked tomato jus, and baby mizuna (Japanese mustard leaves). It honestly tasted like it came fresh from my mother's kitchen; the rich flavors of Philippine lechon topped with culinary refinery. I, on the otherhand, decided to go the full length of the Brit experience with the steak & chips --an 8 oz Hereford hanger steak served with bone marrow persillade. I, myself, am a "fry guy." In this instance, the "chips" definitely took a back-seat to the hanger steak, which was full of flavor and tender. To follow, we each ordered our own sticky toffee pudding; a warm bread & toffee pudding glazed with toffee sauce, and served with stout ice cream; a delectable end to an amazing experience.

Delectable tastes: beetroot salad & Tamworth pork belly

AGAINN also offers a raw bar, charcuterie plates, and is open for lunch and Sunday brunch ($5 mimosas!). And a pub, gastro or not, wouldn't be a pub without "pub grub." Scotch eggs, Guinness-soaked pretzels, and ale-battered cod fingers can be enjoyed alongside specialty cocktails like Pimms Cup No. 13 or a Yeoman Afternoon.

Refinery: AGAINN's fully-stocked bar, and decorative accents

Located in the neighborhood of the city's new-ish convention center, and near other foodie spots such as Acadiana and Brasserie Beck, this DC restaurant is sure to have you coming back again... and again. (No pun intended.)
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AGAINN, 1099 New York Avenue (doors on 11th St.) NW, Washington, DC 20001, 202-639-9830

(Photos from the restaurant's website.)

HAVING MY COOKIES (AND EATING THEM, TOO)

2010-01-25T06:01:00.000-08:00

There is nothing that can come between me and my Nutter Butters. I kid you not.

Recently, my 5-year-old niece was over, and she decided to "hang out" in my room as I was cleaning and putting things away. She started picking through all my things: DVDs, CDs, magazines, pens, and even picture frames that sit on the window sill. I was barely paying attention to her when I noticed that I had a "snack pack" of Nutter Butters on the side table beside my bed. I honestly didn't think anything of it, until I noticed Lexie making her way toward it.

All of a sudden, a slight panic set in, and I sort of slowed my pace with the cleaning to see what Lexie was doing. At first, I instantly thought that she wouldn't even pay it any mind. My bro and SIL do an amazing job of teaching the kids about what's good for them, and what's not. I figured that cookies aren't generally a part of my niece's favorite things to eat. But in a second, a flashback came to my mind: The last time I was at my brother's place for dinner, my SIL had brought Lexie with her to pick-up food. When they returned later, I remembered that Lexie asked her mom if should could "...have my cookie after I eat my dinner?" At that realization, I looked at my niece as she moved in what seemed to be a slow-motion-like fashion. She reached out for the pack of cookies on my nightstand, and I turned white as a sheet.

At this point I had to make a decision in case she decided to ask if she could have them. Being her Godfather & uncle, and knowing in my heart that I love my niece to NO end, I figured that I'd just suck it up and give her the cookies if she asked. So in that brief instant, I knew that was what I was going to do. Here is how the conversation went:

Lexie: "Ninong, what's this?" (I noticed the wanting glint in her eye.)

Wen: (Pretending to not have been paying attention...) "What's what?"

Lexie: "This." (She was waving the pack at me at this point.)

Wen: (Non-chalantly) "Oh, those are my medicine cookies for my cough." (Add a fake cough here.) "When I eat it, yucky medicine comes out. It's so gross."

Lexie: (Immediately putting them back on the side table.) "Oh..."

I'm evil, I know. And I felt even more evil for lying to her! But then she got on top of my bed, and started jumping gleefully. Usually, I'd give her the look, and she'd get off the bed immediately. But I decided that she deserved this round since I terribly lied to her just so I could have my cookies... and eat them, too.

MANGIA, DC!

2010-01-22T10:47:00.000-08:00

The Capital City is quickly becoming a veritable "foodie" city. However, one thing about the DC dining landscape is that there aren't any specific pockets of ethnic food enclaves. For instance, in NYC you definitely know where to find a plethora of Chinese restaurants, and even the trailings of a once-abundant Little Italy. Baltimore, too, boasts its own Little Italy, while San Fran is home to a quaint Japantown, China town, and North Beach (Italian). Then there's sprawling Los Angeles, with its many pockets of places specializing in Viet, Thai, Chinese, Japanese, and even Indian cuisine.

DC, on the other hand, is a little more integrated with its food communities. Not that it's a bad thing, but you definitely have to venture outside the city limits in order to find a thriving ethnic food community like Annandale (Korean) or Falls Church/Eden Center (Vietnamese). And while I love that my Asian cousins are representin', I really wish there was an area that is more Italian-centric.

Nonetheless, DC has it's own spattering of Italian dining spots. They range from the chainey, to the hole-in-the-wall, to the "mom & pop's," to the high-brow. Recently, I was able to visit a relative new-comer to the DC-area's Italian dining scene: Potenza.

Conveniently at the corner of H and 15th Streets NW, Potenza sits comfortably on a large corner that is easily accessible to city dwellers, area employees, and visitors alike. As the latest addition to the Stir Food Group family (Zola is also theirs), Potenza is somewhat of a triple threat, serving as a trattoria, a bakery, and a wine bar.

I had the pleasure of dining at Potenza with two of my friends during this past restaurant week. For a Tuesday night, the place was bustling and packed. I presumed that the crowd was a mixture of restaurant week patrons and happy hour celebrants, but wouldn't be surprised if this is the norm for a fairly new-ish addition to the city's dining roster. As the DC palate continues to evolve to amazing levels of sophistication, Potenza fits in like a glove.

While the dining area could potentially seem a bit stuffy, it is pretty vast with a conglomeration of stand alone tables, against-the-wall seating, and large comfy booths. The wait staff is quick, and all casually sport their Italian "soccer" jerseys. When the place is packed, conversation nicely bounces off the walls, but not to the point of annoyance; it adds to the charm, and gives off a lively air.

A view of the bar

The food itself was very good, with dishes ranging from being on-point to being ridiculously excellent. This isn't The Olive Garden, that's for sure. And it's miles away from Maggiano's. Potenza is possibly the epitome of "mangia."

My dinner party enjoyed the following appetizers: Arancini alla Salsiccia di Cinghiale (fried risotto balls stuffed with wild boar sausage and provolone), Frittelle di Baccala (salt cod fritters, parsley aioli), and the Insalata Mista e Antipasti (Romaine, treviso, provolone, salami, roasted peppers, red onions, tomatoes, oil cured olives in a red wine vinaigrette). Together, the three would've easily passed as a full meal encompassing the strong, delicious flavors of the risotto balls, the perfectly seasoned cod, and the smart taste of the salad.

Our main course followed: Mezzelune di Ricotta (half moon pasta stuffed with ricotta, spinach, preserved tomato and fontina sauce), Coda di Rospo con Limone Olio' Oliva (lemon olive oil poached monkfish, pancetta, artichokes, olives), and Cotoletta di Maiale alla Milanese (Milanese style pork, arugula, charred lemon, parmesan and arugula pesto). The pork was nicely cooked as good as a Milanese can get, but was just a tad bit salty. But coupled with the mezzelune pasta, and it was a hit. The monkfish also shined with the infusion of the lemon, pancetta, and olives.

To end the night - we partook in three of their delectable choices of desserts: Bombolini (oven baked Italian doughnuts morello cherry confettura), Chocolate-Hazelnut Semi Freddo (milk chocolate and hazelnut mousse with an espresso sauce), and Tiramisú (Espresso soaked lady fingers layered with marsala whipped mascarpone, chocolate-cinnamon sauce). The Italian doughnuts would've been perfect with a cappuccino, and the tiramisú was pleasantly not-too-sweet. I've had instances where the tiramisú just wouldn't cut it: either too sweet, or not sweet enough. Potenza has the formula down. The clear winner of this round, however, went to the Semi Freddo... the hazelnut mousse being the clear stand-out.

Potenza might come off as a bit high-end, but with reasonable prices, and good food to match, the whole experience turns out to be more comfortable than anything else. And despite the fast-pace of restaurant week, no one seemed to rush us out of there. What we got was a perfectly quaint, and tasteful, dinner... which is really all you can ask for early on in the week. It is definitely worth a visit.
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Potenza, 1430 H St. NW, 1430 H St. NW, (202) 638-4444

(Photos courtesy of the restaurant's website.)

KALBI, BULGOGI, KIMCHI - OH MY!

2010-01-20T10:46:00.000-08:00

This is a re-post from my Yelp! profile/account. Cheers!

--
Annandale, VA. As a DC-area native, I've grown up to know that Annandale, VA is pretty much the Korean capital in Our Nation's Capital. (Ha.) It wasn't until I moved to Los Angeles, though, when I realized that all things Korean lead to Koreatown - smack in between West Hollywood and Hollywood. Now that is some serious Korean-ness right there.

After moving back to the DC area a few months ago, I found myself longing for the countless Korean BBQ spots that I had come to know and love during my stint as an Angeleno: Gui Mok, Manna, and my fave -- Tahoe Galbi. I also miss the other fried chicken places that popped-up alongside Bon Chon: Kyochon, O B Bear, or Chicken Day. And I can't even forget the light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel spot: BCD Tofu House. *swoon* Oh Koreatown, how I miss thee...!

Back in DC-town, I really have no other choice but to hit up Annandale. And I don't mean that in a bad way. It's just that it's not Koreatown as I had come to know it. But in all honesty, there are some gems in Annandale that are worth visiting multiple times.

Case in point: Hee Been.

Now from the outside, Hee Been does not look like a place that you would care to visit. In fact, it's right smack in the middle of one of Alexandria's more ghetto-er spots (which, by no means is truly "ghetto," PS). The building that it's in? Sad. The parking lot? I loathe. But you have to get past that, and step into the doors of Hee Been to understand and know that heaven really does exist. (Queue the music, Bob.)

On my first visit, which was actually post-LA (Can you believe it?), I was a skeptic. But as soon as I entered the doors, and the familiar smells came wafting at me, I almost instantaneously bowed to the greeter and an almost-fluent "an-nyeong-ha-se-yo" left my lips. Like clockwork, I got bowed back to, and was quickly ushered to my table. I felt like I was back on Wilshire and Grammercy again. (sniff)

Scenes from Hee Been

Hee Been is a Korean buffet, much in the same fashion that those Chinese buffets are set-up. Hee Been is obviously better, with less dishes to choose from (which I actually heart), and a raw meat bar where you pretty much pick-and-choose what you'd like instead of the waitstaff constantly bringing meats to you. Oh, there's also a sushi bar, which is a joke. One thing I've learned while being in L.A. is that you cannot trust sushi at a Korean-owned spot. It is just not the same!

I was a little unnerved at the fact that I had to get my own panchan*. I'm used to the servers bringing them on little plates, and spreading them out all over the table. But this is a "buffet" after all, so you're pretty much on your own - except for the cooking part. While they didn't have any panchan that I wanted to sing and dance about, everything was OK. The choice of meats was fine - the pork belly and bulgogi being my favorites. And the buffet dishes were diverse. How do you not love pa-jeon, malgeunguk, and tempura sweet potatoes?

The waitstaff was super nice compared to what I remember of Koreatown in L.A. I feel like in K-Town, it was almost normal to have a non-smiling person serve you, and you were always better off going with a Korean friend to help make things all the more easier (Thanks, C!). But in Annadale/Alexandria, the waitstaff was pretty attentive --smiles and all.

The interior is worlds apart from it's exterior. The decor is quite Korean with the paneled walls, use of dark wood, and decorative accents spread out across the place. There's even a stage in the main party room, where - I'm assuming - karaoke takes place on certain nights (among other things). And there are also smaller, more quiet party rooms in the back, where we held my mom's surprise birthday lunch last month.

Hee Been is definitely an OK spot. I'd rather go there than Gooldaegee (Honey Pig), which I'll save for another review. As I continue to find my little piece of L.A.'s Koreatown in Our Nation's Capital, Hee Been will have to be my go-to spot for now. This I don't mind so much.
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Hee Been, 6231 Little River Turnpike, Alexandria, VA 22312-1716, (703) 941-3737

(Photos courtesy of the restaurant's web page.)

CHAIN REACTION: NANDO'S PERI PERI

2009-12-19T09:34:00.000-08:00

By now, Washingtonians should already be quite familiar with the South African outpost, Nando's Peri Peri. Billed as a restaurant with a Mozambique-Portuguese theme, the chain entered the DC market in 2008, introducing Our Nation's Capital to the wonderful world of "peri-peri." Peri-peri, or piri-piri (Galinha á Africana in Portuguese), refers to a hot sauce made from dried and soaked piri-piri chillies, which are a staple condiment used in most stews and soups from East Africa. Its origins stem from Portugal, but has become quite a popular accompaniment in East African cuisine. In Portugal, "Piri-piri" often refers to most hot sauces.

Nando's Peri Peri is named after the son of a Portugese national, Fernando Duarte, living in South Africa. The first restaurant opened in Johannesburg in 1987. It incorporated influences from Portuguese colonists from Mozambique who had migrated to South Africa.

It's entrance into the DC market in 2008 added to the color and flavor of the city's already evolving food culture. It joins the ranks of other international chains that have penetrated the U.S. food market: El Pollo Campero (Guatemala), Tim Horton's (Canada), and Vapiano (Germany). But, like these other chains that came before, the only thing that seems to set Nando's apart is its origins. After all is said and done, Nando's is still a chain like the rest of them.

The chicken is touted as being healthy and always grilled. The specialty comes in the different sauces, which come in varying degrees of "fire" -- Extra Hot, Hot, Mild, and Lemon & Herb. Your chicken can be ordered by the half, the quarter, or in full. There are also different dinner platters, sandwiches, wraps, and salads that can be ordered, all featuring their famous chicken.

The food itself is flavorful. But it's not mind-blowing flavor that you would expect from a place whose facade emits a sense of exoticism. The heat from their sauces might not actually live up to the hype, but that is totally up to the individual. As a lover of things spicy, I didn't find the sauces to be outrageously different from anything I've had before.

The decor is quite impressive, on the other hand. You can tell that they tried their best to fuse the sense of style and decor of Portuguese-inspired East Africa into their restaurants. Dark, stone-ish walls, with modern wall art meld together to offer you a little more ambiance. This easily offsets the fact that you move to the counter to place your order, which is later brought out to your table. Your self-serve beverage bar screams more "Chipotle" than it does anything else, and that easily reminds you that you're in a chain.

At best, the food at Nando's Peri Peri can be classified as "OK." In the end, however, it's quite obvious that no matter where it comes from a chain is still a chain.
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Nando's Peri Peri, 1210 18th Street NW, Washington, DC 20001, 202.621.8603

WHY, SNOW? WHY?!

2009-12-19T08:24:00.000-08:00

Growing up as a kid, I remember when I used to love the forecasting of snow. When snow would actually happen, I'd wake-up early to turn on the TV and check the listing of school closings to make sure that Prince Georges County Public Schools would make the list. In those days, that kind of small-time victory always made life better. That continued through college as well when classes would be cancelled, and I'd spend my days couped up in my dorm watching soaps, eating instant ramen, and contemplating on whether or not I should crack open the books...all while snow fell outside my window.

These days, the real world reality of snow makes me cringe. While it's beautiful to look at, it definitely can come with a price -- especially if you're in an area where the handling of snow has yet to be perfected. Handling snow is a science that the Metro DC area has not come to embrace as well as other areas in the northeast or midwest have. In DC, a foot of snow will shut things down, and essentially keep you locked up indoors. I, for one, fear cabin fever. While I do encounter days when I wouldn't mind kicking back and staying in, I find that it's always when I have no choice than to be couped-up indoors that I want to roam free.

Last night, the snow just started to fall as I parked my car outside my parents' house. I had just worked a 10-hour day, and spent another hour or so doing cardio at the gym. I figured that since it's the last weekend before Christmas, I'd drop my stuff off at home, hop back into the car, and head out to the mall. When the snow began to fall, I wasn't deterred. In fact, it only fueled my fire to get out even more. So I put my stuff away, changed clothes, and grabbed a quick bite... and despite my parents' questions on my crazy decision to step out in the snow, I grabbed my coat and keys, and headed back into VA. The drive was cake... Just like driving on a rainy day.

I got to the mall & made my rounds: hit up the sales, and left with two pairs of pants, a sweater, and a wine stopper. Score! I was absolutely happy that my ambition came with much reward.

It wasn't until I left the mall that the worry started to set-in. Just as I drove outside the parking garage, I had noticed that the snow had already blanketed most of the local roads, and there were cars already pulled off to the side of the road with blinking hazards on. I stopped in front of the ice rink at Pentagon Row for a second to take in the scenery: snow falling upon a holiday themed square full of lights, Christmas trees, fake snow flakes, and everything else that you come to associate with the holiays. It was the perfect scene, and I was quickly reminded that I am home. For a quick few minutes, the road treachery escaped me and I found myself in a state of bliss.

Then the worry came back just as quickly as it had left. I could hear the violins, which were playing in my mind, come to a screeching halt. So I slipped on the slush as I made my way back to my car (Umm, aren't Uggs supposed to be good in the snow?! Not so much.), and made a conscious effort to take the freeway home in fear of the snow-laden streets.

Thankfully, the freeway was free of debris for the most part. But at many points, the traffic went along at 1 MPH, which I was fine with. I was super worried that someone would try to be a superstar and slide past me at 5 MPH, and possibly hit me - or someone else - along the way. So what ended up being a 20 minute drive to the mall turned into an almost hour-long drive back home via 395 and 295.

Once I was home safe, I settled back in to warm-up. I opened a bottle of red, had a couple of glasses, then I fell asleep with the knowledge that come morning there would be more snow for me to enjoy. Yay.

And so now I am here at home, annoying myself with cabin fever. My mom is cooking something obviously Filipino. The smell of garlic is wafting through the house, and is seriously enveloping me despite the fact that I took a shower this morning.

I feel like I'm 13 again, and I don't know whether to laugh about it, or prepare myself for the noose.

I'll laugh. For now.

PS: Snow, why couldn't you have waited to fall on Sunday night instead?

j.LoUBOUTINS... RIGHT.

2009-12-17T05:59:00.000-08:00

It's been a minute since j.Lo jumped back into the scene with her performance at November's American Music Awards. The show served as her "launch-pad," if you will, for her new single, 'Louboutins.' The thing is, I'm still trying to understand why Jenny-from-the-block is singing about Louboutins (from designer Christian Louboutin). She claims that the song is about love, and "all the questions we have about it." Yet the highlight of the song is obviously the red-soled shoes. Right, j.Lo.

If this is the direction that pop music is headed, then this has got to be the end. (Although arguably, the end had already come when Vitamin C burst onto the scene for a hot second.)

I feel like j.Lo has seriously opened the door for other ridiculous songs to infiltrate the airwaves. I have a feeling that Taylor Swift will come up with a teen-angst song about "love" and Manolo Blahniks, or Leighton Meester will channel her inner "xoxo, Gossip Girl" with a song about Jimmy Choos. And I'm sure the craze will only continue with blips about other luxe shoe brands: Bottega Veneta, Stuart Weitzman, Tod's... Maddening much?

The sad truth is that j.Lo is one of those artists who isn't a particularly good singer, but she somehow always comes out with a stupid song with a hot beat. So you can't help but fall into the trap of her catchy tunes much in the same way that you do with Beyonce or Lady Gaga (difference is, however, Bey and Lada Gaga can actually sing ---as much as I hate to even admit to that...).

While j.Lo's performance at last month's AMAs were nothing short of a hot mess, I'm happy to say that she redeemed herself with a performance of the forsaken song at last night's finale show of So You Think You Can Dance. Take a look:

Looks like Jenny-from-the-block has moved on up to the Upper East Side.

GET YOUR MIRACLE ICONS... AT BARNEYS (?!)

2009-12-11T09:34:00.000-08:00

With the holidays here, I get a ton of emails from retailers enticing me to buy the next big thing ---whether it has to do with electronics, entertainment, food, or fashion. In my inbox today, I got a blast from Barneys New York. This e-blast featured some of the season’s “hot” items. Among them I noted a pair of argyle socks, skull caps, jackets, and miracle icon jewelry.

What is “miracle icon jewelry” you ask? Well, from what I saw it looked like a metal-struck pendant of Our Lady of Charity… complete with fake burnishing and “natural”-looking wear-and-tear. If you’re Catholic, then you totally know what I’m talking about. It’s those “miraculous” medals with images of saints, or angels, or Jesus, Mary, or whomever else you can think of. You know – the kind of little metals that you find being sold outside a pilgrimage cathedral in Europe or South America, or even at the gift shop at the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in downtown DC. These usually-75-cents-a-piece trinkets are now being sold for $75 at Barneys.

Two thoughts go through my head:

#1 – I don’t like when people wear rosaries or metals with saintly images on them for fashion. I don’t even wear a chain with a cross hanging from it. It’s just not my style. But I guess some people find it chic enough to sport. But how weird is that? For me, I feel like wearing a bracelet with a pendant of St. Bernadette dangling from it would make me feel awkward if I were running around town getting sloshed on the weekends. Maybe it’s my Catholic guilt that makes me think that way (or the time my mom almost beat the crap out of me as a kid because I wore a rosary around my neck as if it were just some random accessory). I shrug.

#2 – Why the hell didn’t I think of selling my old icon-charms to Barneys? And I know I have these lying around my old room somewhere – on door knobs, in drawers, or in boxes. I could’ve made a killing with Barneys selling these under-a-buck pendants for just shy of a Benjamin each.

Well, whatever. If anyone’s interested in sporting the next hot thing in fashion, then I’ve got your miracle icon pendants. Holler for your dollars.

(Ha.)

AN 'EMPIRE STATE OF MIND' THANKSGIVING DINNER

2009-12-01T11:26:00.000-08:00

I am a “Christmas” person. When I think of a quintessential holiday, Christmas has always been the one for me. It’s the “it” holiday; it takes me to a place that no other holiday can. First off, it doesn’t necessarily make me realize that I’m another year older. Secondly, I don’t become daunted with the gift-buying and gift-giving; it’s in my ‘giving’ nature to do just that, so the holiday serves as an extra-special time for that. Third, it is a reminder of something that is greater than any of us (from a belief standpoint, at least). Fourth, the cold weather and festiveness of Christmastime compares to no other holiday. And fifth, I don’t consider it a time when I find myself gorging on food.

Not to out-do the pomp and circumstance of a traditional Christmas dinner, but the winner of the “food” holiday of the year would have to go to Thanksgiving. Call it what you want: “Turkey Day,” “Gobble-gobble day,” and – to a much lamer extent – “The Day-before-black-Friday” holiday. Thanksgiving rivals Christmas as the most popular holiday of the year. Like its December counterpart, Thanksgiving is a special time for family and friends, and often serves as the pre-cursor to the height of the year-end holidays. There’s no stress about gift-shopping, and it’s a great time to sit-around with family and friends, share an amazingly-prepared meal, take in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and a football game (or two) on TV, and exchange stories with loved-ones in-between visits to the Thanksgiving table.

For the past four years, I spent my Thanksgivings away from home. So this year was supposed to serve as my “homecoming” Thanksgiving. That didn’t exactly happen, however, as I decided to make plans with friends to spend a couple of days in New York City instead. Admittedly, I was secretly relieved that I wouldn’t have to play games with anyone’s Thanksgiving spread; anything to keep me from going back for seconds, thirds, and even possibly fourths. And let’s not even think about the desserts. Instead, I was content with the fact that my friends and I would have to make dinner reservations somewhere, and that after the servings were handed out that would be the end of it all. Apparently, we weren’t the only ones with the same bright idea… but then again, we were in New York City.

While our hotel was packed with visitors from across the globe, many of whom had no real idea of what the American ideals of Thanksgiving are, pockets of neighborhoods were pretty empty. Unless you found yourself in the middle of Times Square, which never seems to quiet down, you were most likely in a sparsely-populated part of town where businesses were closed, and folks were away for the holiday. Apparently, everyone in the East Village seemed to be at The Smith for Thanksgiving dinner. Lucky for us, so were we.

The American brasserie, which is a creation of native New Yorkers, Glann Harris and Jeffrey Lefcourt, sits in the heart of the East Village. From the street, you could see the restaurant filled with other patrons seeking to have their holiday fill. The overall feeling was that a lot of the guests that night were locals: students from NYU who stayed in town for the holiday, and neighborhood families who opted not to venture out of Manhattan. Then you had your sprinkle of out-of-towners simply looking for a prix fix “Thanksgiving” dinner. As you entered the restaurant, you were greeted with the sounds of bustling conversations amidst the clanging of silverware and stemware. Then you were hit with the smells of all things delicious as dishes were brought to tables from the super-busy kitchen.

Our waitress gave us a run-down of the menu, and let us know of the specials for the day –including a “turkey” special in honor of the holiday. My friends and I opted against the traditional Thanksgiving dinner since we were being anything BUT conventional, and we kicked-off our meal with an order of crispy calamari (Brooklyn style –ie, marinara sauce over top) and crawfish hush puppies (served with an Old Bay aioli). The comfort food continued with our main dishes, which ranged the breadth of a roasted pork chop to steamed mussels & frites to a hearty bowl of spaghetti & meatballs. The pork chop was cooked to perfection, and was served on a bed of sweet potato hash; perfectly marrying the sweet and saltiness of the dish. The pot of mussels simmered in a broth of chardonnay, tarragon and Dijon was served alongside shoe-string frites giving any Belgian brasserie a run for its money. And finally, a big bowl of spaghetti - complete with large and in-charge meatballs - easily made you feel like you were 10 years old again.

It certainly felt like we were eating at someone’s home, and our fatigue from the day began to mix in with our full bellies. If beds were on the menu, we would’ve ordered three easily. When it came time for dessert we couldn’t do it, and we were off to the street to walk-off the glaze of tiredness that was coming over us.

It wasn’t your traditional Thanksgiving dinner, but it was our Thanksgiving dinner. And when you find yourself in an empire state of mind, even on Thanksgiving day, there really isn’t anything else that would matter.

--
The Smith, 55 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10003, 212.420.9800

HELLO, THANKSGIVING...!

2009-11-15T14:26:00.000-08:00

It baffles me that in less than two weeks, it will be Thanksgiving here in the US. I honestly feel like last year's Thanksgiving holiday barely left my memory-bank, and now I'm already faced with the so-called thrills of the upcoming holiday season. It seems that more and more I'm becoming less thrilled, and more numb to what was once the happiest time of the year... for me, at least. Hopefully, this year will be the start of something different, and maybe I'll get "that feeling" back.

Some friends and I will actually be making our way to NYC for a couple of days to attempt to cop a spot along the infamous Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade route. It'll be crazy, I'm sure, and I'm hoping and praying that the experience will be less 1) rainy, and 2) super cold. I think I have enough days to start a 9-day novena to ask for sunny skies and no rain for this year's event. Let's wait and see.

I'm pretty sure that we'll face annoyances from the crowds, perhaps the weather, and all the other stuff that is bound to happen. And our bus ride via one of the area "Chinatown Buses" will surely add to the festive air, I'm sure. But this is what we wanted, so this is what we're going to get: a do-it-once-in-your-life experience at the expense of not being around family on Thanksgiving Day. Some call it a curse to miss out on such a holiday, but I actually think it'll be a blessing in disguise. At least we won't be tempted to keep going back to a stacked table for more food. Instead, we will be enjoying our (one serving) Thanksgiving Day dinner at a fine restaurant in Manhattan, then be on our way to find a neighborhood bar where we can drink more calories. And then, perhaps, indulge in a little Black Friday holiday shopping for ourselves.

Sounds like a plan to me...!

(Photo courtesy of Jeff Christensen/AP file)

END-OF-THE-WEEK LAUGH

2009-11-05T10:00:00.000-08:00

OK, so it's not exactly Friday... but it's close enough. I stumbled upon this video last night after I decided to make an out-of-the-blue search for the seriously hilarious video of a former Miss Teen South Carolina botching her special Q&A portion of the Miss Teen USA Pageant. I'm sure all you internet junkies know the one; it was only circulated like FOREVER times.

Apparently, Pace University's freshman class (last year, maybe?) decided to immortalize Miss Teen SC's moment through a musical (or musical number, rather). It is easily one of the most hilarious things I've seen in a long time.

Enjoy!

HOT CUP OF COFFEE

2009-11-03T06:09:00.000-08:00

It's the third day of November, and the first day that I felt compelled to put on a coat, scarf, and gloves. The DC area got a blast of cool air last night, and this should linger on throughout the day. The drive into work this AM surely prompted me to make a Starbucks run; today is a true "warm morning beverage" day.

Unfortunately, the stop at Starbucks only reminded me of what I'm missing this season back in SoCal: The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf. I know, I know ---cry me a river. You've heard it all before, and I will not let it go. But in a place where "cookie-cutter (non)-trends" seem to be the norm, there really isn't any other choice than Starbucks. Not that I dislike Starbucks, but I guess I'm just over it. It is surely the "McDonald's" of coffee houses, and it's the same wherever you go ---from Anytown, USA to Любой городок, Россия. Sure, there are a spattering of Caribou Coffees around, maybe even a Gloria Jean's, The Coffee Beanery, and somewhere you'll find a little shop that serves Illy. But the cold fact of the matter is that there is no TCB&TL here. (Nor is there a Peet's.) This, my friends, makes me sad. With the on-set of the holiday season upon us, I am amiss without my Apple Tea Latte.

TCB&TL store front

Fall Offerings @ TCB&TL

So even though I get to plow around in winter coats and boots once more, I will have to do it without a forever-sunny sky, without the beach, and without The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf. Starbucks, you'll have to do... You will have to do.
--

The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf
Domestic Locations: California, Arizona, Nevada, Hawaii, and Texas

(Photos from the company's website.)

COAT, PLEASE!

2009-10-30T08:47:00.000-07:00

‘Tis the season… for a good coat! Now that I’m back on the East Coast, I’m kind of excited to go through a real, full-blown winter. I know that many people consider a SoCal ‘winter’ a joke. And I don’t really blame anyone for thinking so. But you have to understand that when you’ve acclimated to the weather of Southern California, where sun and warmth are the norm, 49-degree mornings in the winter can be painstakingly frigid. On the other hand, a 49-degree day during a DC winter is actually a blessing, especially if the sun is out. But now I’m back in the land where winter weather is the real deal, and that means that it’s time for me to invest in a brand new coat.

If you know me well, I’m pretty picky when it comes to clothing. Coats are no exception to my utter pickiness. I’m not one for “ordinary” looking outerwear, and the “mass-produced” look of those box-shaped black wool jackets (You know you’ve seen them. Banana Republic and Kenneth Cole are big culprits.) are bo-RING. (Sorry to those who actually like them.) I’ve spent the last couple of weeks actually scoping out the “coat scene” here in the DC area. So far, I’ve had no luck finding anything outstanding. Every store from Banana to J. Crew, H&M to French Connection, and even Sisley to Zara have been disappointments. I remember being wowed by the coats I saw at the new Zara in L.A.’s Farmer’s Market on 3rd this past September. I expected to be equally impressed by the Zara’s here (if not more so), but that didn’t happen. This just goes to confirm that DC-area style can be nothing short of boring. It’s “uniform city” here in Our Nation’s Capital, but I am not discouraged.

If only I were friends with Jil Sander, or whoever is designing for the brand these days. (Ha!) I’ve always been allured by the silhouettes of Jil Sander outerwear. The brand knows how to craft a well-worn coat; one that fits a person in a way that compliments them, rather than merely covering them up. The functionality of keeping warm is still there, despite the fact that you won’t drown in their coats and jackets. So the hunt continues.

L-R: Rudolf Dassler Wool Long Jacket (Puma.com), Mackage 3/4 Trench (revolveclothing.com)

L-R: Mackage grey wool "Neil" cable knit collar coat (bluefly.com), Jil Sander Fall 2009 Collection

I wonder how long it’ll take me to find the “perfect” winter coat?

MOVE OVER FLANK STEAK, PORK BELLY HAS ARRIVED

2009-10-28T07:25:00.001-07:00

If “30s” is the new “20s,” then “pork belly” has got to be the hot, new thing in the foodie world (at least). Sure -- pork belly has been around for as long as men have been eating swine. It’s a staple in my native Philippine cuisine, as it is in other Asian and Latin fare. And popular “bad yet yum” food items, such as bacon and pancetta, are usually made from pork bellies. In essence, however, it seems that in recent years pork belly has become a popular part of the Western world’s high-end dining culture.

One of DC’s newest additions to the restaurant landscape, Masa 14, embraces the pork belly like no other. Two of the most sensuous dishes in their tapas-style line-up features pork belly as the star ingredient: Pork Belly Al Pastor Tacos (melt-in-your-mouth pork belly with pineapple preserve, red Fresno, lime, cilantro & pickled onion served on a steamed bun) & Pork Belly Carnitas (smooth-as-butter pork belly with kabocha squash, adobo bbq sauce, and blood orange). The tacos brilliantly illustrates Masa 14’s Latin/Asian fusion, meshing together the flavors of the two regional cuisines and serving it not in a corn or flour tortilla, but on a steamed bun. (Filipinos, think “siopao-esque” flat bread in lieu of the usual tortilla.) The soft, fluffy, and somewhat doughy texture of the bun envelopes the pork belly, absorbing its juices (and fat, I’m sure) in a way that makes the dish even more delicate than its arrival to the table. And carnitas will do as only carnitas can do, but pork belly carnitas out-does them all. The blood orange adds a zing in contrast to the adobo flavor’s zang, offering the dish “superstar” status.

Pork Belly Al Pastor Taco

The pork belly actually doesn’t hog (no pun intended) the limelight, however, and Masa 14’s surplus of flavors transcends an illustrious list of culinary dignitaries: crunchy shrimp & barbecued eel temaki hand rolls, tuna ceviche & Hijiki seaweed-jicama salad, Thai chicken flatbread, grilled baby octopus, fried oysters served in bibb lettuce cups, Kobe beef brisket, yucca fries (served with chimichurri and garlic/lime aioli), and shrimp and pork fried rice just to name a few.

Crispy Shrimp

If you’re looking for a meal that will fill you up, be warned. Masa 14 specializes in tapas-style dishes, so it’s best to know that before entering. The new dining space is the project of Chef Richard Sandoval, who is credited with “marrying” Latin and Asian cuisines by way of Zengo (in Chinatown), and Chef Kazuhiro “Kaz” Okochi, of Kaz Sushi Bistro fame. Their dining area evokes a sense of urban chic with wood-planked floors, brick walls, and reddish and brownish hues emphasized with metallic accents. The open space, which boasts a 65-foot long bar along one of its sides, gives off a vibe that rivals any power-restaurant in the city. However, the space isn’t packed with stuffy suits and made-for-the-office stilettos. Instead, you’ll find hip, trendy, yet very casual diners in for both food and scene. The restaurant is loud, but not to the point of obnoxiousness. And for a more private experience, a separate dining room can accommodate up to 18 guests.

Masa 14's bustling dining room

View of Masa 14 from 14th Street NW

For the late night set, Masa 14 is a perfect addition to the 14th & U Street corridor. With other spots like Marvin, Bar Pilar, and Sainte Ex just a walk away, Masa 14’s bar area will surely become a destination for Friday and Saturday night loungers. Couple that scene with their late-night bar menu of tapas and creative drink concoctions, draught beers, wine, sake, and tequila… and ultimately, you have a winner.

Pork belly fans, welcome home.

--

Masa 14, 1825 14th Street NW, Washington, DC 20009, 202.328.1414

(Photos courtesy of the restaurant's website.)

STAYING CURRENT

2009-10-16T07:34:00.000-07:00

In no way, shape or form am I a sushi snob. Although I must admit that during my stint in L.A., I had some of the best sushi experiences there. And I’m not only talking about the ultra-glam sushi experiences that you’d expect to have at Matsuhisa, Nobu, or even Mori Sushi in West L.A. Even in the most obscure places in the L.A. area you are bound to find a sushi spot that is pretty excellent (Except, of course, Creative Sushi in Santa Monica… Uh, hi. I don’t like my sushi warm, thanks.). I owe the excellent sushi “culture” of L.A. to the fact that they are a coastal city, and the Pacific is the gateway to some of the best fish (…and sharks, and octopus, and moray eels. I’ll save this info for a future post on my biggest fears.).

Since I’ve been back in the DC area, I haven’t had a serious hankering for sushi. I think part of it is that I have never known my city to be a haven for sashimi, nigiri, or maki (rolls). The sushi experience in DC, for me at least, has always been just OK, unless you’ve got a soft spot for rolls that are named after U.S. states or cities. I’ve had some of the best California and Philadelphia rolls ever here in DC, but I would never base a real sushi experience after those. (Cream cheese in a maki roll? Not exactly the 'E True Hollywood Story' according to my Japanese friends – AKA ‘Sushi Police.’)

Case in point: Current. Current is the reincarnation of the once-very-popular Dragonfly. Located on Connecticut Avenue, smack in the center of the Golden Triangle’s bar/club corridor, Current is nestled in a comfortable nook that’s just a stones throw away from the somewhat iconic Julia’s Empanadas and the now-defunct MCCXXII (1223). With new kids on the block like Steve’s Bar Room and the re-furbished Public Bar (formerly Club Five), Current somehow still manages to be … current. While the place still attracts a crowd (an albeit random one), the sushi can only be described as OK at best.

Their menu isn’t super impressive, but it is full of the standards: toro (fatty tuna), sake (Scottish salmon, in this case), aji (mackerel), unagi (eel), and uni (urchin) to name a few. And their maki rolls are also pretty typical: Dragon (eel, avocado, roe, and shrimp tempura), crunchy roll, and soft shell crab. The biggest plus for me is that the rolls are not the Stay-puff Marshmallow Man-sized craziness that you’ll find at your average glamorized “pan-Asian bistro.” Current deals out normal-sized rolls; pieces that are easily consumed without having to attempt to bite them in half. And while the sushi tastes decent, it isn’t really mind-blowing. While it’s definitely better than grocery store or food court sushi, it isn’t the melt-in-your-mouth kind that would make you want to run back for more. Not that I expect all sushi to be done a la Hiroyuki Urasawa, either.

The gleam of light from my experience at Current was definitely the hotate (scallop) kushi (skewer), which easily reminded me of some of the L.A. area’s robata and kushi spots, or izakaya. The scallop was perfectly grilled, and not over-cooked. And it was bursting with flavor.

Current’s décor is interesting, for lack of a better term. However it is miles away better than it was before. As Dragonfly, the soft glow of the interior colored lighting of the lounge would sexily emanate from the frosted main window. Couple that with the ultra-mod (and stark white) tables and chairs, and you had one of DC’s first ventures into the trendy Euro-chic style of the late 90s. But Dragonfly was always so cramped, and the use of the space was poor. With Current comes a much better use of the space, with the elongated bar giving way to a bevy of tables in front of, and to the side of it. Now patrons can comfortably lounge around the space without feeling confined. But while the use of space comes as a much-needed improvement, the décor is not as likable. It is surely a breath of fresh of air from ye ole Dragonfly days. And while the upstairs lounge area is typically lush as any trendy spot can be nowadays, the dining room’s use of aluminum-looking strips across the main and sushi bars (which I imagine to represent electric currents) made me think of tin-foil the whole time I was there.

Given the opportunity to go back with friends for a few rounds of drinks, or to commiserate in the lounge –I’d go again. The service was friendly enough to warrant a return visit, but I could easily skip the food. In the meantime, I'm on the hunt for a better sushi spot in the city.
--

Current, 1215 Connecticut Avenue NW, Washington, DC 20036, 202.955.5525

(Photos courtesy of the restaurant's website.)

FLASHBACK: DINING IN L.A. (FOR THE LAST TIME AS AN ‘ANGELENO’)

2009-09-09T07:42:00.000-07:00

As I was posting my third and final installment of my 3-part ‘review’ of the amazing restaurants I visited during the recently-concluded summer Restaurant Week in DC, I noticed that I hadn’t posted anything during the month of July. Truth be told, I spent that month relishing in all things “L.A.,” since I was anxiously awaiting my then-impending return to the east coast. With a whirlpool of emotions rushing through my mind at the time, the last thing I wanted to do was to be literarily (I might've made that word up just now...) creative. Though I had intended, at the time, to put some of my thoughts into writing, I think my struggle between feelings of elation and sorrow got the better of me. I couldn’t even muster up a decent ‘good-bye’ note to my friends, let alone write blog entries dishing about my final days as an Angeleno.

I’ve been back east for over a month now, and though at times I feel like I still am trying to “figure things out,” I’ve realized how therapeutic it is for me to actually write again. And, with little steps here and there, I hope to pick-up where I left off with my book-in-progress. That would be the true accomplishment. But for now, I shall blog… and I’ll probably blog until the cows come home. It’s the least I could do. I think it hit me a little last week when a good friend of mine asked my mom how it felt to have her son back home. Half-jokingly, half-not, Mom went on about how happy she felt, however she could sense that I was not happy. Never in my life had I felt so transparent (Oh, who am I kidding…?! I teeter the line of transparency all the time.), and so I figured it would be a good idea to try harder to get out of whatever funk I’m in, and live, laugh, and love again.

Little steps here and there.
--

My last month in L.A. was filled with… FOOD. In fact, it was so much so that one of my friends back there even went as far as chastising me for my emphasis on the need to do all things “foodie” before I headed back to the DC area. (Whatever, bee-yatch. You’re a foodie, too.) Funny thing was that I didn’t even take her joking to offense. As much as I love the beach, or the hike through Temescal Canyon, the view of L.A. from the Mulholland Drive overlook, the drive through the Venice canals, the Griffith Observatory, Hollywood + Highland, Melrose Ave., Beverly Hills, The Getty, or simply driving through the scenic neighborhoods of Brentwood & Santa Monica, it’s always been the cuisine and libations that opened the floodgates for some of my best memories in L.A. From the easiest (and inexpensive) meals from Porto's, Ono or L&L, to the casual Don Antonio’s, to the chic and fancy Comme ça on Melrose – I have shared many a laugh, great conversations, and learned some amazing things about my friends and family while wining and dining in L.A. Though it was hard to squeeze all my favorites into my last 3 weeks in SoCal, I think I managed to cover most of my bases ---enduring as minimal weight gain as I possibly could. (Yeah right.)

Here are some of the places that I breezed through before I left:

DON ANTONIO’S, 11755 W. Pico Boulevard, L.A., CA 90064
While this place may strike the ire in many due to the fact that Heidi & Spencer (from The Hills) adore it so much, truth must be told that the food is simply amazing. It may not be ‘wedding-reception’ good (Sorry, Speidi.), but it is as good as SoCal Mexican food can get. Everything from the complimentary chips & salsa to their over-stuffed burritos are well worth trying. It had become an easy ‘fix’ for my roommates and I when we lived in Santa Monica, and has since found a home in our hearts – right next to another SoCal Mexican favorites like Lares, La Cabaňa, and El Cholo.

VERSAILLES, 10319 Venice Boulevard, L.A., CA 90034
When I used to visit L.A. some years ago, my cousin and friends would bring me to this little hole-in-the-wall called “Versailles” along busy La Cienega Boulevard. At first I thought I was going for French food, but I was pleasantly surprised to learn that Versailles is a Cuban restaurant, and a very good one at that. It instantly became a favorite, and once I moved to L.A. it became part of the ‘touring’ spots that I’d take visitors to when they’d swing through. I visited the location right outside Culver City with my niece and nephew, and had an amazing time as usual; the Versailles on Venice has been re-modeled, and has vibrant-colored walls and mood lighting compared to it’s sister restaurant on La Cienega. Food, however, is consistent and tasty. Their lechon asado tops the list for me.

PALMS THAI, 5900 Hollywood Boulevard, L.A., CA 90028
There really is no other place in the country to get AMAZING (and inexpensive) Thai food than in Thai Town right outside Hollywood. Even the Thai places here in the Metro DC area do not compare. Palm Thai is special because 1) it’s always packed, and 2) it is home to the infamous “Thai Elvis…” Thai Elvis is some Thai uncle who dresses up as Elvis (sometimes), and sings all sorts of Elvis tunes. A lot of people come to Palms Thai for a sighting of Thai Elvis, but the food is more so popular. Fish cakes, tom yum, crab fried rice, and grilled mussels are just a few of the yummiest Thai dishes ever.

BESO HOLLYWOOD, 6350 Hollywood Boulevard, L.A. CA 90028
When Beso Hollywood first came on to the scene last year, I was quick to turn my cheek. With Eva Longoria’s name attached to it, and since it took over another spot along the ever-transient Hollywood Blvd., I figured it would last a good 9 months to a year before it would be home for the latest and greatest thing. With other Hollywood closings like Dolce, One Sunset, Murano, and even Luau in Beverly Hills, I was half-expecting Beso to follow suit. But once I learned that Todd English’s name was attached to this project, I decided that I had to at least give it a try before heading back east. So I took two of my best foodies, headed to Hollywood Blvd., and ended up having a very great experience.

I have been to two of T. English’s outposts in my life (including DC’s own Olives, which is currently closed for some much-needed upgrades), so I was hoping that this pairing between English and Longoria would not disappoint. And that it did not. At first instance, we were met with the chic surroundings befitting of a Hollywood power restaurant: stylish lighting, dark walls and floors, sleek furnishings, and Thievery Corporation (DC natives, btw) booming throughout the space. Walking in, you’re almost automatically prompted to be “on,” despite the fact that you’re still in L.A. For every table of patrons dressed to party, there is a table of shorts & tees-clad tourists, or laid-back locals. But that’s “L.A.” for you.

The interior of Beso Hollywood

The food = superb. Seafood and steaks are the specialty here. We started off with a ceviche tasting, which was succulent: mussels, ahi, and bay scallops. The swordfish steak, which was my main dish, was perfectly moist and flavorful – and filling! The winner of the night (aside from the vodka sodas) was surprisingly Eva’s Guacamole (her mother’s really), which has made a name for itself in Hollywood.

Ceviche Tasting at Beso Hollywood

THE BAZAAR (AT SLS HOTEL), 465 S. La Cienega Boulevard, L.A., CA 90048
The celebrated DC-area chef, Jose Andres, made his formal entry to the Hollywood/Los Angeles dining scene through the ultra-trendy SLS Hotel –an SBE project (think Brent Bolthouse productions). The Bazaar is the uber-hot restaurant/lounge at the SLS, and has created a buzz in the L.A. dining & nightlife scene. Reservations are hard to come by, so it’s easier to grab a table at the lounge –where the turnover of guests moves as quickly as lightning strikes.

I met my nephew and his wife for some drinks and small bites during my last week in town, and we were able to score a table at the lounge. The happy hour crowd was dwindling, but there was still a lot of traffic; the earmark of a current “hot spot” in Hollywood/L.A. For the most part, a good majority of the menu is still available at the lounge, and since Chef Andres is a master of tapas, the menu offered a plethora to choose from: Japanese tacos (w/grilled eel), sea urchin, foie gras (wrapped in ‘cotton candy’), and croquetas de pollo – to name a few. Jose Andres’ talent definitely shines through each and every dish.

The décor of The Bazaar is more so a mish mosh of things, but this is partly due to the design team of the SLS, who couldn’t seem to figure out whether or not they wanted to go for “Shabby Chic” or “elegant ski lodge” for the former space once occupied by Le Meridien. Gaudiness aside, the food and drinks offered by The Bazaar are surely top notch. (Bonus: Renee Russo sighting... She still looks great!)

LA CABAŇA, 739 Rose Avenue, Venice, CA 90291
My comida pasada in L.A. was at an old favorite, La Cabaňa. It was an easy choice since it’s on the way to LAX, and right outside my old neighborhood of Santa Monica. There’s nothing much more you can say about this place aside from the fact that it is simply SoCal “Mexican” at its best. Knowing that I wouldn’t find anything as close once I shifted coasts, I relished each and every bite (and each and every margarita, too).

All in all, my last few weeks in the L.A. area are now nothing more than a whirlwind of memories… but great memories no less. While there are many things I still miss about my life on the other coast, I’ve decided it best to take what I’ve learned and build upon new experiences now that I’m back home. No matter where I am, there are always reasons for me to question myself about “what’s not to love?”
--

Back at our new corporate offices in the DC area, we have much better coffee than we ever did in Beverly Hills. I guess whoever the corp. office is purchasing from just has a better taste for these kind of things (the coffee that we were getting in Bev Hills was atrocious, to say the least). However, this morning I realized that a new flavor has been added to the pods appropriately called “Colombian,” “French Roast,” “Mudslide,” and “Donut Shop.” This new coffee, called “Jet Fuel,” seemed interesting off the jump. But as it brewed, the smell was strong and scary ---really, the best word to describe it. I haven’t even finished the cup (which I’ve now been nursing for over an hour or so), and I’m fighting between feelings of sleepiness and the need to bounce-off-walls.

Jet Fuel: the no-joke, in-your-face, doesn’t-taste-too-great-but-does-the-job kind of coffee brought to you by coffeepeople.com.
--

(Photos from respective restaurant & company websites; photo of "L.A." from freedigitalphotos.net.)

DERNIER ARRÊT: DC RESTAURANT WEEK | JACKSON 20

2009-09-08T09:20:00.000-07:00

The third and final stop on my little “DC Restaurant Week Tour” brought me to neighboring Alexandria, VA. The spirit of the old country still haunts the quaint, yet busy settlement of Old Town Alexandria. The brick homes, cobblestoned streets, as well as the historical markers that dot the area have shared their space with a number of America’s popular outposts such as the GAP Outlet, Banana Republic, and Anne Taylor Loft. Other companies, such as California Pizza Kitchen and United Colors of Benetton, once called Old Town “home,” but as the changing tides of the economy ebbs and flows, so do the town’s “residents.”

What was once a Holiday Inn Select on busy King Street has since been changed to Kimpton Hotels’ flagship banner, Hotel Monaco, in recent years. During its incarnation as a Holiday Inn, the space – which was always full of potential – was never really pushed to its limits. But with its re-birth through Kimpton, the locale has stylishly meshed its historical sensibilities with a flair for modernity and chic-ness. And I’m not only talking about the hotel’s gorgeously appointed lobby and guest rooms. Their real gem: Jackson 20.

Since Kimpton bursted onto the hospitality scene focusing on their boutique-style hotels, they have not only mastered the art of design and function as it pertains to hotel rooms and public spaces, but they’ve also made a mark on their respective city’s dining scene. The Serrano Hotel in San Francisco is home to the delectable Ponzu, and The Muse in NYC boasts the casual yet graceful Nios. In similar fashion, the Hotel Monaco presents Jackson 20 – a dining space that blends together the rich traditional atmosphere of Old Town, with the contemporary trappings that Kimpton is known for. The restaurant is named after President Andrew Jackson, who is known to have been the first Commander in Chief to invite the public to attend the Inaugural Ball. Keeping in tradition, the restaurant continues the former president’s renowned hospitality through “inspired American regional cuisine.”

My foodie-friend, Leah, and I decided that we couldn’t pass up another chance to take part in DC’s Restaurant Week this summer, especially after my previous jaunts earlier in the week. But this third and final stop on the "tour" was symbolically special: it was our “last hurrah” so to speak before succumbing to the world of “new car” payments, which we both now have to embrace. That said, we expected nothing but a great time at dinner, and that was exactly what we had.

Upon entering, after passing off my car to the tending valet, we were welcomed by the wafting air filled with everything associated with southern comfort food. Despite the dimmed dining room, with its dark wood furniture and long bar, the first-impression of intimidation from the chic surroundings was easily over-powered by the smells of deep fried chicken, freshly made corn bread, and fall-off-the-bone barbecue ribs. In an instant, we were brought into a world that screams “shabby chic” and “Paula Deen” all in one sentence.

Inside Jackson 20

We were given the option of dining in the courtyard for the full Jackson 20 experience, but with the impending rain, we decided to stay in-doors to be on the safe side. We were seated near the bar, where hotel guests and locals alike enjoyed their drinks at leisure. Our friendly server discussed the menu with us, and came back shortly with our drinks: a Clover Club (with gin, raspberry puree, and citrus) & a Forbidden Fruit (10 Cane Rum shaken with passion fruit and pineapple juices, finished with a 10-year Tawny Port float). The creative libations were just a couple off an interesting list, which includes some classic whiskey drinks made with the restaurant’s own twist.

Our three-course meal pretty much came as smoothly as can be imagined:

Course 1: Virginia Crab Cake with arugula, a fried green tomato, and sauce Gribiche, and Scallop and Beef Brochette –each wrapped in bacon, and served with Anson Mills Grits

Course 2: BBQ Beef Ribs grilled with J20 BBQ sauce, smashed potatoes & a green bean salad, and Beef Brisket –slow-roasted Wagyu beef, crispy marrow potatoes, creamed spinach & horseradish

We also added a side of fries cooked in duck fat. (There’s nothing more that I can say about that.)

Course 3: Banana Pudding & Chocolate Pecan Tart

The encounter was nothing less than scrumptious, and while you could feel the heaviness that is prevalent with southern cuisine, the portions were perfect. Our server made us fully aware that despite the menu catering to “restaurant week” customers, Jackson 20 wanted to be sure to offer the full extent of their menu and portions to all guests; a charming way to start-off the dining experience, if you ask me.

Our first course exuded the flavors that are reminiscent of carefully prepared soul food. The meats of the second course were “melt-in-your-mouth” tender. And the desserts made you think it was Thanksgiving in late August. It was the perfect end to my restaurant week tour, and a nice indication that the dining scene of Old Town is only getting better.

Jackson 20's culinary masterpieces

As the rain poured down with monsoon-like torrents, the sights, the smells, and the flavors of Jackson 20 soothed us to our own lullabies. It was hard to leave without wanting a blanket and a pillow for a quick nap right there at the table. That’s a clear hint that this place will have to be revisited as winter draws close.
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Jackson 20, 480 King Street, Old Town Alexandria, VA 22314, 703.842.2790

(Photos courtesy of the restaurant's website.)

PROCHAIN: DC RESTAURANT WEEK | RISTORANTE TOSCA

2009-09-02T08:26:00.000-07:00

The second stop on my 2009 DC Restaurant Week tour brought me to Ristorante Tosca in the city. This time, one of my dear old college friends, Andrea, set-up the “catch up” dinner. It had been years since we last talked. While I was off doing my “L.A. thing,” Andrea was busy with work, grad school, and is now finishing up law school at Catholic. She is definitely one of my more industrious friends! She had just returned from working all summer in Poland, so Restaurant Week came at a perfect time.

Ristorante Tosca, or simply “Tosca,” is one of Dre’s favorites. How this place actually stayed under my radar is beyond me. When I worked in the city some years back, I remembered driving past Tosca many times. While I’ve always wondered about it, I never made any effort to give it a try. So thanks to Restaurant Week, and – more importantly – to Andrea, for finally putting Tosca on “the list.” We were able to get a 9PM reservation, which was one of only a few slots left at Tosca for Restaurant Week (and the reservation was made in late July!). That alone should’ve been enough indication of how dumb I’ve been for missing out all this time.

I made my way into the city later in the evening last Thursday, and met up with Andrea at Foggy Bottom. Coming off I-66 that night, I was reminded of one of the last times I had traversed that very road with Dre –a spring afternoon back in either ’99 or 2000. We were driving in my ’92 Toyota Corolla, a car that took us everywhere within the Metro DC area, to VA Beach, to Florida, countless trips to Philly, Jersey, NYC, and the Eastern Shore. For some lame reason, ‘Casper,’ as I had come to name my white-colored car, decided to die on me just before Dre and I exited off 66. Apparently, it had been years since I gave poor Casper an oil change, and the cost of repairs was NOT something I was looking forward to. Fast forward to the present: that flashback came across my mind as I exited off onto E Street, and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

I found a parking spot on one of the side streets, and all of a sudden I felt like I was brought back to my good old college days. Even though I did my undergrad at Maryland, I was always hanging out with my friends at GWU my senior year. There were always meetings, mixers, dinners, and lots and lots of house parties (more appropriately “apartment” parties, but who says that?!). I was amidst the undergrad set, who were making their way home from late classes, or from the busy happy hours that were just ending; a perfect way to transition into the traditional Thursday “college nights” that would be celebrated at many a bar in/around Foggy Bottom, and nearby neighborhoods. Dre came down from her apartment, hopped into her car, and scooped me up, and we were on our way. Restaurant Week reservation #2 was about to begin.

After checking the car in with the valet, we headed inside. Needless to say, the restaurant was bustling. The small bar had been catering to patrons who were waiting patiently for tables, and the sounds from the main dining room were booming: conversation was rampant, servers were busily traveling to and from the kitchen always with their hands full, and parties were leaving just as fast as others arrived. We waited for a while, but were eventually seated in the dining room. The room was warm, not temperature-wise, but the neutral hues of the walls, flooring, table clothes, and artwork were very soothing; not in the sense that you’d want to fall asleep, but more so in the sense that you were instantly comfortable. Our waiter quickly tended to our needs, and soon enough we had drinks brought to us right away.

Per Dre’s suggestion, I decided to follow her lead and order pasta as my starter. She ordered the Pappardelle alla Carota, which was served with a rabbit ragu in a white wine sauce. I opted for the Raviolo di vitello – filled with roasted veal, prosciutto and pistachio mortadella. It was nothing short of delicious, and the portion was perfect.

We dove right in to our main course; Andrea went with the lamb chops, and I decided on the grilled Agnus N.Y. strip. The chops were beautifully displayed, and our waiter gently covered them with sauce. My steak came out perfectly –not at all overdone or overcooked. And the size of it would easily put Ruth’s Chris to shame. I almost had to force myself to finish, but the flavors were perfect enough that I had no issues finishing over our ‘catch-up’ conversation.

By the time the main course was done, I had almost completely forgotten about dessert… and sooner than later we were faced with another mountain to climb: a rich, chocolate mousse-like cake, and the chef’s modern take on the classic tiramisu. Both desserts were pretty staggering, yet we couldn’t even attempt to polish off either one.

The colors of Ristorante Tosca

When the check came, we were done –both mentally and physically. Late dinner was a success, and – as I had mentioned previously – Ristorante Tosca has now been added to my growing list of favorites. It definitely was a simple, yet purpose-filled night: had an awesome dinner, and reconnected with an equally awesome friend.
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Ristorante Tosca, 1112 F Street NW, Washington, DC 20004, 202.367.1990

(Photos courtesy of the restaurant's website.)

AU DÉBUT: DC RESTAURANT WEEK | PS7

2009-09-01T07:39:00.000-07:00

There are some things in life that do not ever make sense. As many times as you try and figure out if there is any rhyme or reason for certain things, you’re probably better off letting go of the things you cannot control. And coming from a self-proclaimed obsessive compulsive person, doing so is definitely easier said than done.

For instance, I absolutely cannot keep a decent pair of designer sunglasses. For the life of me, I lose them each and every time. It probably doesn’t help that I’m usually in the company of beer and/or alcohol at the times of loss, but that is beside the point. The point is: I cannot keep a pair of designer sunglasses for the life of me. I’m not bitter. Hello, $7-pair from H&M. You and I will have to get along.

On the other hand, however, something that does make sense in my life is… food. Come on now, as if you didn’t already know. Food is an important part of my life. Yes, that would include the bad stuff that we all love to have, but know we shouldn’t (but have it anyway). But beyond that is my love for well-prepared, appropriately portioned (!), and carefully executed food. And what better time to have this type of stuff than during Restaurant Week?!

Restaurant Week, to me, is like a breeze on a Sunday morning, the cherry on top of an ice cream sundae, the fried-egg that you mash into a piping-hot dish of loco moco, or store-bought cake from the grocery store that you buy (and eat) by yourself. Wait, I didn’t mean that last part… (or maybe I did.) What Restaurant Week is NOT: a plated dinner at a wedding (gag), a trip to the local “Chinese” buffet, nor is it something that should be passed up. Restaurant Week is just as worthy of your attention as Nordstrom’s Half-Yearly Sale. (Yup, I went there.)

This year, the DC-area Restaurant Week was, and continues to be (for the most part, it’s been extended through this week as well), another feather in the cap of awesomeness. I remember blogging about how the DC dining landscape has evolved in recent years. Area kitchen stars have only increased in their popularity in the last few years (Jose Andres, Geoff Tracy, and Robert Wiedmaier to name a few), but at the same time the area has attracted the likes of Michel Richard, Wolfgang Puck, and Alain Ducasse, whose restaurants now dot the “foodie” map of DC.

Since I’ve returned, I’ve been slowly getting back into the area dining scene. It surprises me how there are many places that have sexified their space, making me feel like I’m having more of an “L.A.” experience that tends to focus more on ambiance than food. But amazingly, there are so many places that are able to fuse the two together nicely… and they’re all within my old stomping grounds. There’s no better time to dive right into the DC-area foodie scene than Restaurant Week.

PS7
My return to the area has been marked with a lot of things: new office building, new commute (!), new co-workers, and a new daily routine. But spattered in between the newness are so many familiar sights and sounds: area traffic, the humidity of summer, my family and my friends. This year, Restaurant Week served not only as a time to have great food, but a time to connect (and re-connect in some cases) with great friends. My first stop this time around was at PS7.

Located on the outskirts of DC’s very tiny Chinatown, bordering the ever-bustling Penn Quarter, PS7 is sort of tucked-away amidst re-vamped office buildings, newly built condos, and a slew of shops and cafes. My “go to” foodie-friend, Leah, set-up this dinner venture. I was excited to make my way into the city last Tuesday evening. It felt good traveling downtown, and when I rolled around onto I (Eye) Street, I met the valet as if I were meeting a long-lost friend. Thankfully, Leah walked up before I could engage in senseless banter with the valet attendant, and we made our way inside.

We were early, so we proceeded to the lounge area to grab a round of drinks. I noticed that the space was open, with tables against the big windows facing the street. Away from the windows were shorter tables and ottomans where the happy hour set were enjoying their ‘last call’ before dinner prices took effect. We planted ourselves at the bar, and were met with all sorts of concoctions in bottles or pestles ---which we would find out, later, were all part of the interesting make-up of their witty drink menu. I ended up with the Ice Pick, which is made of an interesting mix of Grey Goose, acai, and tea, while Leah indulged in a cucumber imbibed drink (called Gnome’s Water) that was both refreshing and calming. The drinks were a great start for the night as two more of our friends, Erika and Stacy, joined us for dinner.

As the maître d’ showed us to our table, the sights, sounds, and smells were a good indication of what was to come: a nicely-prepared three-course meal that involved many great choices. To add to the minimalist energy of the restaurant were modern paintings that lined the walls, along with mood lighting to enhance the gallery-like space. Tables along a raised platform that lined a wall of tall windows served as silhouettes against the lights from the outside streetlamps. Our waiter, whose vocal intonations reminded us of a prime time game show host, was thorough and efficient, and soon our table was covered with more drinks and glasses of water.

Between the four of us, we indulged in a wide array of dishes. First course: Sarah’s Salad (with mascarpone and strawberries on a bed of field greens), Warm Spinach Salad (marrying the delectable flavors of feta and bacon), Tomato and Saffron-Steamed P.E.I. Mussels, and a Caprese Flat Bread –all of which were flavorful and nicely prepared.

Our second course was just as diverse: Tuna Au Poivre (served with an asparagus gremolata), Wild Mushroom Risotto, Beef Tenderloin Au Poivre, and Stuffed Pork Loin (with thyme pan jus). While some of the meats were a little over-cooked on the outside, all the dishes were generally tasty and filling. We almost forgot that there was one more course left.

Desserts soon followed, after another quick round of drinks, and again we were each suddenly in the presence of ample deliciousness: Blueberry Brown Betty, Red Velvet Cake, a Strawberry Tasting (with strawberry sorbet, lemon pound cake, and mascarpone cream), and the winner of the night – Chocolate Peanut Butter Bar (which requires no explanation whatsoever).

At the end of it all, we were satiated and ready for bed, which was probably the master plan all along. PS7 is a gem in the bourgeoning Chinatown area, and has been wowing DC natives and visitors alike since 2006. Owned by former Vidalia chef and 'James Beard Award' winner Peter smith, PS7 is the culmination of his years of experience with some of the DC area’s best-known restaurants, and it continues to make it’s mark on DC’s culinary history.
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PS7, 777 I (Eye) Street NW, Washington, DC 20001, 202.742.8550

(Photos are courtesy of the restaurant's website.)

OH, G. YOU'RE SUCH A B.

2009-08-24T19:17:00.000-07:00

Random thought: I have always felt that Michelle Trachtenberg was just a so-so actress. She has never done anything extraordinary enough for me to care about her... until Gossip Girl. While I know that I have pretty much dug my own grave by admitting that I enjoy watching the trash that is GG, I must say that engaging in the show has been a nice 'escape' from the lame shows about emo kids from L.A. Once Laguna Beach ended, and after Lauren Conrad left The Hills, there really wasn't any reason to watch a tired show like 90210. I mean how lame is that?

So when the world of TV decided to bring back teen angst to NYC, I couldn't have been more happier. There's nothing like following the lives of socialite kids (and I'm talking about "real" East Coast / old money socialite kids) and all their senseless drama. Instead of watching them cry at the beach after having their heart broken, they make phone calls to have people kidnapped, or eat their feelings at Per Se. It's a different world from where they come from, for sure.

Now back to Michelle Trachtenberg. Again, she definitely was not on my list of favorite people to watch. As that whiny bitch on Buffy, she annoyed me. I didn't follow the show well enough anyway, so that didn't help her cause. But on the other hand, as the cold-hearted 'Georgina Sparks' on GG, Michelle Trachtenberg has bitched her way to my heart.

The thing is I know she's got some new show starting up this Fall, so I'm not sure how she'll continue to be 'Georgina' on GG. It would be tragic if she didn't at least make her way to B's dorm room when the season starts again in a few weeks. If I had to choose to watch her as a rookie nurse, or catch her as a collegiate terror at NYU... I'd choose --OK, do I even have to go there??!

As pointless as this post may be, at least M.Trachtenberg has another fan.

WHAT A DIFFERENCE (OR NOT) A MONTH MAKES

2009-08-23T16:39:00.001-07:00

Today officially starts my fifth week back "home," and I must say that I am amused at how much things have changed, yet also remain the same. I guess "home" wouldn't be "home" if it weren't for that, huh? I'm still getting used to things again, and in some cases it's like riding a bike: you stop for a while, and when you get on for the first time in a long time, you're kind of wary about how everything will go.

I remember the days when I could navigate my way through the city without question. For for no rhyme or reason, I just knew which streets to take, and which to avoid, and which ways were one-way, and at what time I could go through a certain area. Now, I can't even wind my way through DC without calling someone to ask for directions. It makes me sad, but at the same time the whole "getting lost" thing has lead me to parts of the city that I've actually never been before. That, in itself, is a blessing; new places to check out, and new experiences to be made. I'm absolutely down for that.

I must say that lately my mind has been too pre-occupied with figuring things out now that I'm back home. I haven't been able to blog about anything super random, nor about my feelings on a certain subject or current event, or the latest blurb about whatever it is that catches my eye at a given moment. I could blog about how humid it is here, and how much I never realized how much it feels like an oven in Our Nation's Capital this time of the year. It's so bad that my lungs can't seem to take it, and I need the A/C pumpin' in my car in order for me to breathe regularly. But being in smog-filled L.A. should've been an equally appalling experience, yeah? Well, not after being spoiled living on the west side. You don't get that smog in Santa Monica, thank goodness. But you get the humidity everywhere here... from Ft. Washington, to DC, to Tysons Corner. You just can't escape it.

At any rate, I'm getting back into the swing of things. On the weekends, my Godsis and co. have been my saving grace. They make for great company, and they keep me grounded (and they like to drink and eat with me... go figure). My younger brother, my sis-in-law, and my most adorable niece and nephew are equally comforting. Just knowing that they're now a 20-minute drive away (on a good day, mind you; DC traffic can be just as annoying as traffic on the 405) makes me happy. I'm still waiting to see my nephew take some steps on his own. He seems too shy to do it in front of his Uncle Wen, but I know that it'll happen all in due time. Being around for family parties again is fun, especially when I run into old family friends, and parents of my high school friends who love to make kuwento with me about what their kids are doing now, and all of the things I've done since I graduated Oxon Hill.

I'm getting back into the swing of things, for sure.

I miss my life in L.A., though. I miss that the weather is virtually perfect, despite the marine layer that always seems to make me want to see rain. I think I've seen just as much rain in the past four weeks as I did when I first moved to L.A. a few winters ago. "Winter Storms" in L.A. = rain... non-stop. Lame, I know. Just the other day, I was driving across the Wilson Bridge, and I thought to myself, "How weird is it that I just can't cut through Doheny to get to Sunset, and then head east toward Cahuenga." Now I'm cutting through bridges and taking exits that lead me through suburbia. Again, it's familiar territory (after getting lost fifty million times), but I'm still missing my 5 minute drives to Red Mango, or the fun lunches at Absolutely Phobulous or Mishima. Now I have to actually drive into the city to find something that's Pinkberry-ish, and my lunch options are pretty much a Harris Teeter (which isn't bad, don't get me wrong) and the food court at the mall just a short drive from the office. Fun.

Slowly and surely, I'm getting back into the swing of things. I like that I'm so close to a "city" again, and I'm loving the fact that the option for public transpo (and GOOD public transpo at that) is all mine. Restaurant Week in DC is next week, and I've got two reservations with old friends, which should be GREAT. And there's always the latest and greatest in new trends that I have yet to find. It's time re-discover my home. A lot has actually changed since I've been away, and it's up to me to conquer all these changes. It'll be sans orange bang and albondigas soup, but I guess you can't get wings and mumbo sauce in L.A.

It's equal playing ground, for sure.

That said, cheers to being back home. I am looking forward, though, to my weekend trip back to L.A. next month. Bacon-wrapped hot dogs in Hollywood = a great time.

I AM... THE VODKA MONSTER

2009-08-15T17:48:00.000-07:00

My friend, Carrie, summoned me for a night on the town yesterday. One of my dear old friends was taking part in an art show in the city, and we both decided to swing by to show her our support. So as soon as the clock struck 5, I closed-up at work, and headed into the city. I anticipated traffic that would nearly bring out the 'Road Rage Monster' in me, but it was surprisingly lax. I freely got on the GW Parkway with ease, and got to Carrie's downtown office in record time. We eventually made our way to the Metro, and rode two stops away to Gallery Place/Chinatown. While we found the gallery with ease, we wanted to stop in somewhere to grab a drink before going in.

There were many spots to choose from: Rosa Mexicana, Poste, Jaleo, SEI, and Oyamel to name a few. We almost walked into 701, but I quickly realized that we were in Cafe Atlantico land. Its sister restaurants surrounded us: Jaleo, Oyamel and Zaytinya, but it was Cafe Atlantico that won us over in the end. Carrie and I walked in, grabbed a table for two, ordered a round (or two) of drinks & a couple of appz, and began our night. Grilled octopus = yum, btw. And their guac trumps-over Rosa's any day. (Sorry, Rosa!) Vodka-sodas, standard.

After downing my second drink, we walked around the corner to the busy gallery. We made our way up the staircase, and were greeted by a couple of things: 1) tons of people (there to see about 90 artists and their displays), and 2) HEAT. With all those people in attendance, someone forgot to turn on the A/C. Splendid. We were seriously there for like 5 minutes, and then we walked out with our artist-friend and headed back to Metro. Back at Carrie's office, I changed into something more casual, and then we were off again... and we jumped into the first cab we saw.

(PS: I'm loving the metered cabs in DC. Such an improvement, BTW.)

We got dropped off in front of Mie N Yu on M Street, and we decided that we wouldn't go in. As usual, Mie N Yu is still hoppin. The sights and sounds of G-town were very Summery; and appropriately so. Tourists and locals dotted the sidewalks, bars were filled to capacity, and restaurant doors were opening and closing at every minute. The walk up Wisconsin Ave. from M St. was easy, and the night breeze cooled us down by the time we turned the corner at Zara. A line of restaurants awaited. We went into Cafe Milano, which was bustling, and we had a round at the bar. Vodka, hi. As soon as we were done there, we moved to an outdoor table next door at Peacock Cafe. I'm not sure I even knew what was going on as my mind already started to go fuzzy, but the next thing I knew we had drinks in front of us (Hello, friends!), followed by a salad and tuna tartare. Excellent.

After a couple of texts came through on both our phones, we paid our tab, and then walked back down to M St. and headed into Modern, where we were meeting up with more friends. Soon enough, another glass of vod made its way to my hands. Then a shot and a few more drinks later, and the night all-of-a-sudden became one of the best nights ever! I saw a lot of old friends, and even bumped into an old college buddy (I would've never thought to see Phu Diep at the club...! Haha!). The night was turning into a good one.

When we lost our friend, who was apparently in the bathroom after "reaching that point," we took that as our queue to leave. So we headed back to the street, hopped in another cab, and headed back to Carrie's office. I made it back home safely (Thank you, God!), and I laughed myself to sleep as I read the texts coming through to my phone... One of my friends apparently had a very-very "good" night. So good that she practically passed out in the car in front of her house. Lovely.

One thing is certain, and that is -- I am still, and may forever be, the 'Vodka Monster.'

THE LAST 25 DAYS...

2009-06-29T10:13:00.000-07:00

In history, there has always been an interesting list of “lasts.” By “lasts” I am referring to situations or things that have met with finality. You know – the end. La fin. El final. La fine.

For example, in 1786, the last person to be burned at the stake in England was Phoebe Harrius. She was convicted of creating fake currency, and was executed outside Newgate Prison in England. Her crime was considered high treason at the time. In 1912, the last medals made entirely out of gold were given at the Olympics that year in Stockholm, Sweden. And who can forget perhaps the most famous ‘lasts’ of all time: the last supper of Jesus Christ.

Not all ‘lasts’ are so grim or unfortunate, however.

For instance –in 1712, Jane Wenham was tried in what is known to be the last witchcraft trial in England. To her joy, she was found innocent. In 1991, the 75-year reign of Communism in the Soviet Union breathed its last breath. And on his death bed, Thomas Edison’s last words were “It’s very beautiful over there.” What he actually was referring to, we may never know. But his words serve as a calming reassurance nonetheless.

It is with this mini-recollection of ‘lasts’ that I proudly, yet bittersweet-ly, call to mind my own “last 25 days… in Los Angeles.” But first, I must state a few important disclaimers: 1) My life, in no way or form, can come nearly as close to being noteworthy as the aforementioned ‘lasts.’ And, 2) When referring to my “last 25 days… in Los Angeles,” I am not calling to mind the past 25 days, but the 25 days that are to commence starting tomorrow (June 30^th). Yes, my friends, I am officially East Coast bound!

I’ve spent the last 4.5 years in the Los Angeles area, and I’ve seriously had the best time. I still remember leaving the East Coast out of boredom. At the time, I guess I was looking for some kind of challenge in my life. I was tired of the mundane routine of going to work with the rest of the Metro DC work-force, marching in and out of government buildings doing government-related things. My solace truly came on the weekends with the endless list of bars and lounges to hit up, or new restaurants to try. But after a while, even that scene lost its luster in my eyes. So in an attempt to spring for the unexpected, I decided – whole-heartedly – that I was going to move to the West Coast. In no time, I was L.A.-bound.

From L.A. ... (photo from Walter Daley's Blog)

The past four years have been amazingly fulfilling. I can almost equate my experience to spending 4+ years in college all over again, only this time I wasn’t limited to the confines of campus dormitories and/or dining hall food. I had to make-do for myself, with my family being on the other side of the country. I can honestly say that moving was probably one of the best things I could’ve done for myself, and now I find myself at another cross-roads with my move back to the East Coast becoming more and more real each day.

Back to D.C. (photo from Social Times)

It’s a little ironic and weird that the company I work for decided to uproot itself from Beverly Hills, and move to the suburbs of the Metro DC area. And I still have mixed emotions about it. First off, I am not mentally prepared to leave SoCal just yet. I even had my mind set on hanging out here for at least another five years or so. But with this crumbling economy came wear and tear, especially in California where jobs seem to be scarce. With the corporate move came a restructuring process that inevitably opened the doors to lay-offs and an ultimate change in the guard. The department that I worked for was, and still is, left in limbo – and I got fed-up with the lack of control over my life that was slowly, but surely, creeping up on me. At the same time, however, I am only half a year away from being fully-vested in my company, which I’ve grown to appreciate more so than any of the other companies that I’ve worked for in the past, and I wanted to somehow capitalize on that. So with the re-org in place, I made sure to apply for a position that would keep me in the company (guaranteeing employment –at least for the time being). Thankfully, I found a position that I was interested in, and lucky enough for me it is in a department that I actually want to grow in. Couple the fact that the company is moving me back home makes the over-all experience a pretty sweet deal; it makes absolute sense.

I figure that I owe it to myself to see where this opportunity can lead me. If it means being at home for a couple of years, or eventually heading out to another metropolitan area – it’s all relative at this point. I’ve moved once before, and I know I can do it again. And, if the cards work in my favor, I just may end up back in Santa Monica someday ---a place that I’ve come to love as my second home.

And so the beginning of my last 25 days in Los Angeles begins, and it I am hoping to get in as much of what I love about L.A. as I can before I head back to DC.

FATHER'S DAY IN BEVERLY HILLS

2009-06-21T22:30:00.000-07:00

This morning I randomly decided to go to Mass in Beverly Hills. I could've very well attended Sunday service at St. Augustine's, which is literally a 15-minute walk from where I'm staying. Or I could've made my way to Mass in Santa Monica before I went to help a friend move in the same area. But nope - I decided that I'd spend the perfect morning in Bev Hills.

As I entered the cusp of Beverly Hills from the Castle Heights district, I noticed that the sky was clear, and the sun was shining nicely at 11:30AM; such a huge change compared to the "June Gloom" that's been plaguing the L.A. area for weeks now. I originally took Rodeo into BH, but it was blocked off for some weird reason. Unhindered, I took a detour and ended up going down Beverly.

People were out and about relatively early on a Sunday morning. The town usually sleeps-in on a Sunday, but revelers were walking the streets, entering shops, and enjoying brunch at one of the many restaurants dotting the streets. I found a parking spot, and strolled along to Good Shepherd parish. As I sat waiting for Mass to commence, I realized that the last time I was in that parish was on Mother's Day. It was weird that I made it back for Father's Day.

Just then I realized - Duh! It's Father's Day, and that's why people are all over the place!

I'm a genius, I know.

Anyway, I decided to walk back to Rodeo after Mass. I wanted to see what the hoopla was all about. Lo and behold, it was the annual Rodeo Drive Concours d’Elegance. There were all sorts of exotic cars, classic cars, and even a good number of eco-friendly vehicles; something for everyone. Of course, it was a chore to make my way through the crowd. The usual BH set were out with shopping bags in town. But there was a huge group of non-BHers sluggishly passing through with their eyes popping out of their sockets. (Gotta love the non-city folk.) Oh, and there were all sorts of European travelers also taking snapshots in front of cars and/or store-fronts in-between shopping sprees at Bottega Veneta and Prada. It was nice to be out on Rodeo on such a gorgeous day, but the crowd got super annoying. I eventually looped back to where I started, walked to Crumbs Bakeshop (my original "reason" for deciding to go to Mass in BH), then hopped in my car and headed to Santa Monica to help my friend move.

At any rate, It was a nice way to transition to the afternoon, and I instantaneously knew that I would surely miss the Sunday-morning scene in BH once I'm back East.

Rodeo Drive Concours d’Elegance

A view of a car with Miu Miu in the background

A gorgeous Sunday morning in Beverly Hills: sun, palm trees, people watching, Bottega Veneta, and Frette (LOL)

FEEDING THE ROOMIES

2009-06-21T22:03:00.000-07:00

For the past three weeks I have been "living" in my friends' living room; I'm the "guy on the couch." When the company I work for decided to uproot itself (earlier) this year to create a new home-base on the East Coast, I had to make a decision --my lease was ending May 31st. (!!!) I decided that I wouldn't renew, and one of my roommates hooked-up with another friend of ours to get a 2-BR. I, on the other hand, with less than two months to spare in SoCal, had no place to go...! But that's why I have friends whom I love. They've let me be their 'spare tenant' as I prepare for my journey Eastward.

I honestly don't know how to repay them, really. But I know one thing I can do is cook them up a feast every now and then. I finally got the free time to do so yesterday, and so I prepared them my own rendition of pork and chicken adobo, and a free-hand dish of shrimp and veggies cooked in a Thai green curry sauce.

Oh, adobo...

Shrimp & Veggies in Thai Green Curry Sauce

Adobo is adobo. iIf you're in the know, then you know what's up. The other dish was something I decided to whip up on a whim. At Trader Joe's I decided to pick up a few things: baby bok choy, yellow squash, yellow onions, haricots verts (green beans), Mexican white shrimps, TJ's Thai Green Curry Simmer Sauce, and TJ's Thai Lime and Chili cashews. I chopped up the veggies, and sauteed them in a little olive oil... adding some freshly ground pepper, white pepper powder, garlic powder, and a tablespoon of light soy sauce. I set the veggies aside after browning them a little. Then I took the thawed-out shrimps and sauteed them with the same spices/sauces. I then poured half a jar of the curry sauce into the sauce pan, and let the shrimp simmer. After a few minutes, I added the veggies. After a few stirs, I added a half cup of the cashews. A couple of stirs here and there, dinner was served - much to my roommates' delight.

Survey says: the shrimp/veggie dish will now be added to my permanent repertoire. And I've got a about a month more to share more 'food' with the roomies.

CAPTAIN STAIN-O

2009-06-19T08:49:00.000-07:00

You probably didn't know this, but I attract stains.

Literally, I am a walking 'white shirt' welcoming all sorts of crappy and annoying stains that are the result of my utter clumsiness. The worst part is that it seems like these said stains always occur when I'm wearing something new, and/or when I'm eating or drinking something with super-staining agents: fruity desserts (with fruit syrups and/or sauces), tea, wine, tomato sauce... alcohol. I mean it's one thing to find stains after a night of debauchery. But it's a completely different scenario when staining occurs while you are absolutely lucid and sober. I tend to dance around the latter scene.

Argh!

So this morning I decided to break-in a new sweater that I got on-sale from Banana Republic (Gotta love Banana's sale items!). Wearing it was not a big deal AT ALL. It was on-sale for $19.99, which doesn't exactly scream "wear with caution." So whatever. But the fact is, just an hour into my work day I was visited by the Stain Gods as I clumsily "sipped" on a cup of tea. Somehow, I sipped too fast or something, and the tea happened to jump out of my cup and onto my sweater. No joke. (Ask me to replay the scene later, and I promise you I will.)

Thankfully, I had a water bottle close by so I was able to dab the tea droplets before they could really set in. Despite that valiant effort, I can still see the slight trace of tea stain on a part of my sweater. Sure, it could be my eyes playing tricks on me, but more than likely that is not the case. (That option is just never in the cards for me.)

At any rate, this stain-ful experience made me take a quick step back, and think of all of those times that I have faced stain-inducing instances. After recalling the 532nd occurrence, I felt called to blog about it just because I can.

Damn you, stains.
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Photo taken from http://merge.danieljthompson.com/.

GROSS & GROSS

2009-06-17T09:22:00.001-07:00

Courthouse News Service

Marriott Guest Says Rats Swarmed on Her
By RYAN ABBOTT

WASHINGTON (CN) - A woman says she was attacked by a swarm of rats while she slept in the Marriott-owned and -operated Renaissance M Street Hotel. Her Superior Court complaint includes a horrifying account of awakening to find rats on and under her blanket, in her pajamas and tangled in her hair.

At around midnight, Carol Zamfir says, she "awakened to discover to her horror that she was amidst a swarm of rats. They were on her blanket, under her blanket, under her pajamas and tangled in her hair. As plaintiff struggled to escape the swarm, the rats bit and scratcher her on [her] face, torso, arms and legs."

Zamfir says she became "very ill," and went to an urgent care clinic, where a doctor noted "Multiple puncture sites on face, neck, extremities and torso." She also had to be treated for infectious disease.

She suffered bites to her face, neck, torso and extremities, and was treated for infectious diseases associated with rat bites. She is suing the hotel giant for $11 million, citing numerous physical and mental injuries.

She demands $10 million for pain and suffering and $1 million for loss of consortium. She is represented by Jack Maginnis.

Posted using ShareThis

EATIN' "BIG EASY"-STYLE IN ... BERKELEY?!

2009-05-27T10:17:00.000-07:00

Memorial Day weekend is the special three-day weekend that unofficially kicks-off the summer. Each year the grills around the country become ablaze with heat, and heaps of burgers, steaks, hot dogs, and other grill-able edibles are cooked much to everyone's delight. Sizzling burgers seem to go perfectly with ice-cold brews, and the added sounds of friendly chatter among people from all sorts of places only adds to the holiday weekend's allure. While we honor those who've lost their lives in defense of our country on this special weekend, we also take the time to relish in great memories with family and friends.

I must say, however, that being in San Francisco this past holiday weekend was a little less summery, and more blustery at best. At times I felt like I was traipsing along 5th Avenue in NYC, as opposed to San Fran's Union Square. The visions of people in coats, scarves, hats, and gloves screamed "London in winter" more so than it did "San Francisco." Wait, it was still May this past weekend, right? (Or was it March?! I kid.)

Being the acclimated Angelino, I took to the streets of San Francisco sans a coat or jacket. And despite the fact that I've traveled to San Fran many-many times, and each time I have accepted the fact that I'll never catch a 'warm' break there, I still failed to pack a jacket in my suit case. I did come close to purchasing a hot jacket by CoSTUME NATIONAL, but the $1,000+ price tag scared me off. Oh well. I was destined to brave the cold... and that is exactly what I did.

As usual, the San Fran trip was food-filled. But the highlight of this culinary experience wasn't found within the city's 7x7-miles. This time around, I got a down-home "NoLa" meal in the heart of -- wouldn't you know - Berkeley.

You heard me right, Sherlock.

Angeline's Louisiana Kitchen is a little spot tucked away along busy Shattuck Avenue, which is dotted by everything from banks and ATMs to bars, cafes, and coffee houses. In a most unassuming way, Angeline's skillfully brings a taste of New Orleans to the cornflake-ish suburb of Berkeley; a perfect addition to a busy promenade that features a full array of ethnic tastes and flavors. With the aroma of pad thai, samosas, and freshly brewed java filling the air, you probably wouldn't even realize that this gem is out there for all to see and experience.

We entered to place to find it packed. UC-Berkeley did have graduation ceremonies earlier in the day, so that surely added to the bustling pace of the neighborhood. We had to wait for about 20 minutes to be seated, which was fine. I was told that the wait would be well worth it.

New Orleans-Cajun standards are the big draw at Angeline's: po' boy sandwiches, etouffee, jambalaya, and gumbo --just to name a few. Hush Puppies are served with sweet butter, and Brussell Sprouts are caramelized and spiced to perfection. If you want catfish, then catfish you'll get. If you want crawfish... voila, it's yours. Creole/Cajun fans will surely enjoy this place. It's a "no frills" kind of joint, but meticulously clean and inviting. The waitstaff is super-friendly, and knowledgable. And the food - flavorful.

I actually stuck to a standard: fried oyster po' boy. The oysters were seasoned, breaded and fried to perfection; the bun nicely toasted, but still soft to bite. My side of cajun potato salad was a nice compliment to the sandwich, providing balance to my meal. While I didn't try the gumbo or jambalaya, which could easily make or break the credibility of a true NoLa-style restaurant, their po' boy was on-the-mark. If I could bottle it and take it with me wherever I go, I would. My Godsister enjoyed the Crawfish Etouffee, and her hubz went to town with the boneless fried chicken. Angeline does the "fried" thing uncanningly well. The only thing missing from the menu -- anything with "debris." Now you know a real NoLa restaurant will serve a good pulled-pork dish with debris... But hey, "A" for effort here regardless; debris or not.

Angeline's Fried Oyster Po' Boy

The experience ended with a shared order of warm beignets. And as soon as that was devoured, we were sent packing with food coma on our minds. If I could, I would've asked for a pillow and blanket right there, and called it a day.

Angeline's Louisiana Kitchen is a nice "get-away" in the little ol' town of Berkeley. It's a great addition to the area's food-scope, and is surely a place to "pass by, f'sure!"
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Angeline's Louisiana Kitchen, 2261 Shattuck Avenue, Berkeley, CA 94704, 510.548.6900

RED VELVET: FROM CAKE TO COOKIE

2009-05-13T09:55:00.000-07:00

Red Velvet Cake.

It is easily the Grand Dame among cakes, especially in and around the Southern U.S. It is rich, heavy, and delectably sweet; virtually a heart-attack straight from the oven (especially if Paula Deen makes it... but hey, we all love us some Paula Deen!). You either love it, or hate it.

Photo from Feb. 13, 2008-post by Mary Audet on Blisstree.com

Red Velvet takes its name from the distinct color of the cake: usually a dark to bright red, or a reddish-brown. It is usually made of cocoa powder, flour, buttermilk, and tons of butter. Sometimes, the reddish tint is made from the use of food coloring or beets. Cream cheese butter-cream frosting is normally paired with the cake, but it is most popular with a butter-roux icing. (Is your mouth watering yet?)

In cupcakeries across the country, the Red Velvet cupcake tends to be a 'best seller.' This is probably due in part to the resurgence of the cake's popularity after it was featured in both Oprah Winfrey's show and O Magazine back in '06/'07. Since then, the cake has made its rounds as the celebrity cake of choice, showing up at birthday celebrations, weddings, and other special events.

One of Sprinkles' best: Red Velvet (Photo by Janelle Albino from the Mar. 11, 2008-post on "What I Ate Today")

In pop culture, the cake itself has made quite a name for itself. Much in the same fashion as the fabled Nieman-Marcus cookie story, there is an urban legend about a woman who ordered the cake while dining at NYC's Waldorf=Astoria Hotel. Because she was enamored by the dessert, she asked for the recipe. Subsequently she was billed heftily for the recipe alone. As a result, she spread the recipe far and wide via chain letter. Fact, or fiction?!

The Red Velvet craze, while infamous in its cake form, is also making its mark as a cookie. Check out this recipe from recipezaar.com:

SINFUL RED VELVET COOKIES
(Based on a Paula Deen recipe)

17 minutes | 5 minutes prep.
Serves 5-7; 24-30 cookies per batch

Ingredients:
1 (8 oz) brick cream cheese (at room temperature)
1/2 cup butter (1 stick, at room temperature)
1 egg
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1 (18 oz) box red velvet cake mix
confectioners' sugar (for dusting)

Directions:
1) In a large bowl, cream the cream cheese and butter until smooth (with an electric mixer)
2) Beat in the egg
3) Beat in the vanilla extract
4) Beat in the cake mix
5) Cover and refrigerate for at least 2 hours to firm up so that you can roll the batter into balls
6) After batter is chilled, pre-heat the oven to 350ºF
7) Roll the chilled batter into tablespoon-sized balls, and then roll them in confectioners' sugar
8) Place on an ungreased cookie sheet 2-inches apart
9) Bake 12 minutes; cookies should remain soft and gooey
10) Cool completely and sprinkle with more confectioners' sugar (if desired)
11) Top with cream cheese frosting to make even more rich, or serve as is

An interpretation of Red Velvet Cookies (Photo from Mar. 7, 2009-post on heidibella.com)

It's been said that this cookie takes the cake. Give it a try, and you be the judge!

FOODZIE FOR ME, FOODZIE FOR YOU!

2009-05-12T08:48:00.000-07:00

Being the somewhat 'food-obsessed' person that I am, I always find myself stumbling upon stuff on the web that touches on anything from new recipes to the latest restaurant openings. Lately, I've been frequenting Foodzie, an online marketplace that specializes in products from "small passionate food producers and growers." Essentially, it's like an online Farmer's Market. One of the site's missions is "...to help the small food producers across the country find customers and grow their business," which - to me - is a noble effort.

Having spent over four years in the Los Angeles area, I have come to love the idea of the Farmer's Market. In L.A. alone there are markets in almost every enclave and neighborhood around. Within driving distance to my apartment, there are at least four or five weekend Farmer's Markets that thrive with the help of local businesses and food growers.

And it's not that I'm against corporate grocers. I am in love with Ralph's, and Vons, Trader Joe's, and all their friends. But there's really something special about small-scale artisan growers and producers. Like a Farmer's Market, Foodzie brings the community together... just on the world wide web.

Foodzie's vendors are from all corners of the U.S.: Tucson Tamale Company from Arizona, Wayne's Fine Foods from Illinois, Michele's Granola from Maryland, and Sunchowder's Emporia Jams from Florida are just a few. The site always features a special product (this month they highlight PavoneSonoma Sage Vinegar), a special producer (this month: Allstar Organics from Nicasio, CA), and a blog with interesting interviews with different vendors, features from media outlets and television, and lots of other cool stuff.

The site offers valuable info on how to become one of their "producers," as they are a perfect outlet for companies that tend to have limited distribution. By engaging in their online business, these companies are given the opportunity to share their products with a wider consumer base. And generally, their main draw is 'food.' Foodzie is not the place to go to if you're looking for the perfect kitchen tool. But if you're in Forks, WA, and are in the hunt for a bottle of McRae's Foods' Sweet n Sassy Mama's Backwoods BBQ Sauce from Huntsville, AL ... then Foodzie.com is home.

Afterall, home is where the heart (and food) is.

MEET ME AT 'THE HALL'

2009-04-24T08:57:00.000-07:00

West Hollywood is certainly known for being an interesting place. It's kind of that 'middle ground' between gritty Hollywood and the more relaxed Westside, making it a perfect place for clubs, lounges, bars and restaurants. It is home to the Sunset Strip, as well as La Cienega Boulevard's Restaurant Row. You'll find cool dives like Barney's Beanery (the original), and uber chic spots like Bar 1200 at the Sunset Marquis Hotel. It's also home to some of Los Angeles' infamous nightlife: Area, Sky Bar, Bar Marmont to name a few. And it also boasts super-hot restaurants like Koi, Asia de Cuba, and NYC-transplants STK and BLT Steak.

Smack dab in the middle of where Santa Monica Boulevard meets La Cienega is a nice little "getaway" called Palihouse. It proudly refers to itself as a place that offers the best of a boutique hotel and a luxury residence. Their main draw is their huge lounge area, whose theme is a well-mixed concoction of bohemian-chic and Euro-hipster zip. Unlike other Hollywood and WeHo spots, the Palihouse doesn't give off any hints of pretentiousness. While the clientele is an obvious fusion of folks from nearby Beverly Hills and the hipster WeHo crowd, there seems to be nothing but smiles and good times happening here. The staff is attentive and friendly, the hosts --with their heavy French accents-- are welcoming and hospitable, and the vibe of the place is chill, yet substantial. Kitschy photographs line parts of the walls, while sexy couches and chairs of all shapes and sizes are scattered around the dimly lit room. And there are even turntables at an old-school desk-turned-swank-DJ-stand. (Oh, and there's an oyster bar, too... Score!)

While the lounge earns kudos, their restaurant is the real star. The Hall Courtyard Brasserie is situated in the middle of the property's quad. It boasts an open ceiling, with sweeping views of the condotel's upper floor windows and terraces. Heat-lamps (which are a must for most L.A. evenings) help to warm the area on cooler nights, but ladies are also offered woolen throws to wrap around to keep toasty. Stringed lights swash across the air, giving off the feeling that you're dining in a Mediterranean courtyard.

What drew me here was the menu; a delicate offering of "traditional bistro cuisine" with a "market-driven modern edge." Chef Brendan Collins, whose experience has seen him through London's Cafe Royale and Pied-A-Terre, brings vibrancy, color and flavor to the impressive menu.

My friends, who are probably some of my favorite 'restaurant' people in L.A., and I tried plenty of things off the menu. We originally were feeling cheese and a charcuterie plate after having a few drinks. But our waitress advised that the cheese could leave us feeling "full," and she wanted us to really experience what The Hall had to offer. Noted.

We started off with a Braised Pork Shank Raviolo, which I can only describe as "prodigious." The pork filling was thick and oozing with flavor against a pommery mustard sheen. And to add to the sweetness of the dish was a caramelized apple slice. This was followed by a Yellowtail Crudo (with avocado, red grapefruit, and herb salad), which was fresh and just as flavorful; the citrus working as a nice palate cleanser. The third appetizer was a Roast Beet Salad made of goat cheese, blood oranges, walnuts and beet romesco; light and fresh.

A few swigs of beer and wine later, our main dishes made their way to our table much to our delectation. Jess ordered the Black Cod with cuit a la viennoise and creamed spinach. The fish was delicately prepared, and imbued with gusto. Tracey ordered the Roast Halibut, with seafood ragout, spring veggies and basil; another amazingly prepared fish. Tracey's husband, Chris, ordered a special: Kansas City Fillet, which was definitely one of the most flavorful steaks I have ever tasted in these past few years in L.A. My dish: Moules et Frites - my all-time favorite. If I see this on the menu of a French or Belgian-esque restaurant, I will try it. This dish usually makes or breaks its respective restaurant in my eyes. The Palihouse's version, made with a saffron curry sauce, was light, yet savory... effortless, yet gratifying; a sure hit for me. Oh, and those truffle shoestring fries weren't so bad either... (!) The experience was topped-off with a Chocolate Muffin, which ended up not being an actual "muffin" at all, but a warm serving of chocolate with dulce de leche ice cream and caramelized bananas.

Jess' Black Cod

My Moules in saffron curry

Truffled Frites (how i love thee...)

Stuffed as we were, we continued the night back in the lounge for one more round of drinks. Conversation was endless, laughs were rampant... an ideal end to a nice night of fun, friends, and food. Oh-so-good food.
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The Hall Courtyard Brasserie @ Palihouse Holloway, 8465 Holloway Drive, West Hollywood, CA 9006, 323.656.4020

WEIGHING IN: 8 OZ. BURGER BAR

2009-04-20T15:39:00.000-07:00

SoCal culinary star, Govind Armstrong, is known for his spin on California Cuisine. He's also had his hand in television as a judge on Bravo's Top Chef, as well as a contestant on the very iconic Iron Chef America on the Food Network. He traces his beginnings to Beverly Hill's Spago (when he was thirteen), and furthered his training during his college years in San Francisco at another Wolfgang Puck mainstay, Postrio.

Armstrong has certainly come a long way since his humble beginnings at Spago. He has since traveled Western Europe, landing gigs at famous establishments as Excelsior at Hotel de l'Europe, and Arzak. He has been mentored by legends like Pedro Subijana (Restaurant Akelare) and Juan Mari Arzak.

It wasn't long before Chef Armstrong found his way back to Los Angeles. He eventually worked several gigs, including setting up shop at Pinot Hollywood. Eventually, the talented chef would find himself at the helm of his own restaurant: Table 8. The restaurant first opened in Los Angeles, and quickly became a favorite of the Hollywood set. Soon after, the restaurant went bi-coastal, and set-up shop in trendy Miami. And now NYC is looking to host the restaurant this year in NoHo's Cooper Square Hotel.

Last year, Armstrong decided to move Table 8 on Melrose. No word on whether or not the move has taken place, but 8 Oz. Burger Bar has already made its home in its former spot near Fairfax. 8 Oz. Burger Bar is still, obviously, Armstrong's doing. Since it's opening, it has become a strong contender against the likes of other L.A. area gourmet burger spots like Santa Monica's Father's Office, or West L.A.'s Apple Pan, and it looks like it's here to stay a while.

The signature 8 oz. burger is made of a house blend of sirloin, tri-tip, short rib and chuck cured in the restaurant's Himalayan salt-tiled locker. The burger is cooked medium rare to medium, and is served with standard iceberg lettuce, pickle, tomato, white onion, and the 8 oz. "special sauce." Also on it's menu of burgers: the Melrose (house blend, wild baby arugula, garlic roasted tomatoes, and red onion marmalade) and the Estancia Grass Fed Beef (heirloom tomato ketchup, garlic aioli, sliced tomato, onion, pickle, charred escarole, and roasted mushrooms). Other items to note: the Short Rib Grilled Cheese (served with onion marmalade and bel paese cheese), a number of salads, Mini Kobe Corndogs, and Fried Wisconsin Cheese Curds. For the non-red-meat-friendly: Grilled Chicken Sandwich (ranch dressing, iceberg lettuce, tomato, red onion, and grated carrot), Fillet of Fish, and Veggie Burger are for the taking.

An array of beers, as well as shakes, malts and floats, are available to accompany each meal. And for happy endings, there are delectable treats such as Banana Rum Bread Pudding, Banana Split, and cupcakes (chocolate or carrot).

The space itself is pretty casual, with a hip gastro-pub feel. On busy nights, the restaurant boasts music playing background to the sounds of conversations of all types. Tables are full, and even the small bar area plays home to local hipsters and Hollywood-ers. Despite this, 8 Oz. Burger Bar gives off no air of pretention, and will surely have you craving more.
---

8 Oz. Burger Bar, 7661 Melrose Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90046, 323.852.0008

(Photo courtesy of EaterLA.com)

I GOT YOUR CRAZY!

2009-04-17T09:27:00.001-07:00

I know that I live in an imperfect world. In fact, I am very much prone to running into some crazy shit. Sometimes I think I'm a magnet for embarrassing moments, awkward situations, and sheer craziness in all forms. To me, it makes for a more interesting life. Why not laugh every now and then, right? Laugh at yourself, laugh at others... it's all relative.

Los Angeles could single-handedly reign as the 'Crazy Capital of the U.S.' I say this with the utmost respect. I've seen crazy people everywhere I've been. Back home in Washington, DC, I've been enveloped by 'crazy' from the most posh of places, to the ghettos of Southeast DC. In NYC, I've bumped into 'crazy' many a times (or watched as 'crazy' actually bumped into stationary objects; yes). Chicago's got 'crazy,' too... as does Boston, Philly, oooh -- and San Francisco. But I have to say that L.A. takes the cake. In L.A., 'crazy' doesn't even need to take the form of a physical person, or an action, or a feeling. It can take the form of a hand-written add posted on a freakin' electric pole:

I'm still kind of in a state of shock after this. The Lakers? Todd Bridges? 4 or more planets in Capricorn?

Someone please call this number, and tell whoever answers that you're a reincarnation of 'Tootie' from Facts of Life, and you've got 3 planets in Virgo that want to mingle with his 4 planets in Capricorn. Oh, and tell whoever is on the other line that you love the Phoenix Suns.

WTF?!

HIDDEN AWAY...

2009-04-13T21:45:00.000-07:00

I finally got to check out Hidden Restaurant & Garden Lounge in Santa Monica. Located in the old Schatzi's On Main space along Main St. (cross street: Marine), If there's anything to be said about the place, it is definitely the antithesis to Schatzi's. While Schatzi's was a perfect example of a neighborhood watering-hole (with a super great happy hour, by the way), its casual atmosphere has given way to a swankier, uber-chic dwelling place. Schatzi's open-air, elevated lounge area is still in place. But it's newest incarnation is as Hidden's "garden" lounge.

I checked-out Hidden with a friend, and we actually stumbled in on accident since the bar area at Chaya Venice was packed. For happy hour on a Saturday night, it was pretty dead; Chaya Venice,on the other hand, was bustling. But the ambiance was nice enough for us to hang out and check things out. The place is huge with dining and lounge areas that can go on for days. It seems like it would be a great place to host a beach-side, swanky party. We sat at the bar, and pretty much had it to ourselves for the first half hour or so. We drank vodka-sodas at the special happy hour price of $7. Not so special, actually. We also had a few appz, starting with the kobe beef tacos and pan-sauteed calamari. The calamari was sauteed with strips of pancetta, which added a nice saltiness to the dish. The beef tacos were yummy two-biters. We were obviously hungry... still. We ended up ordering ahi tuna spring rolls, and a vegetarian pizza (tomatoes, onions, eggplant and roasted red pepper).

The prices were a little high, even for happy hour. But with a continuous flow of drinks, the experience was quite bearable. I'd like to see how the place gets on a busier night. I've read reviews that glossed over the ambiance and "laid back" vibe of the scene-worthy spot, but I've also heard that the place missed the mark in service. The bar service that evening was spotless, but then again, we were two of maybe five or six people seated there.

We'll see what the future holds. I actually feel like the place could go under if it remains as quiet as it was that night, but we'll see how things work out as the warmer weather comes through. It is a nice addition to that area sitting on the cusp of Venice and Santa Monica.
---

Hidden Restaurant & Garden Lounge, 3110 Main Street, Santa Monica, CA 90405, 310-399-4800

EASTER BRUNCH (IF YOU DARE...)

2009-04-12T19:13:00.001-07:00

Easter Sunday: the quintessential day of holy days in the Roman Catholic calendar, as well as all of Chrstiandom. At Mass this morning, I was reminded of the special meaning that this day holds for Christians. But while I sat there contemplating the mysteries of faith, my mind kept fleeting back and forth to the thoughts of the event that was to come after Mass was over: Easter Brunch.

Awful, right? I know. I pretty much suck. But God knows my heart. He knows that my heart was at Mass, even though my mind kept going elsewhere. And soon enough, the time came. The roomie and I drove to Lesley's, and we hopped into her car and headed towards Marina Del Rey. Destination: The Warehouse.

When we pulled up to the restaurant on Admiralty Way, we were welcomed into the busy parking lot by the flustered valet, who barely had enough wits about him to greet us a "Happy Easter." The place was packed! Even though we had reservations for 1PM, we had to wait just like the rest of the patrons who also had reservations. The entry way was bustling with people waiting to be seated for the $34.95 brunch buffet. We weren't seated until about 1:40PM, and we became anxious to get down to business. As soon as we sat down, our server poured us mimosas, and then we headed to our posts on the buffet line.

The ladies headed to the breakfast line, so I went to the other station. I found myself in the presence of a mish-mosh of things: salads, a carving station, comfort food (mac 'n cheese, pasta, ribs, fried chicken), Mexican, Asian, crab legs, oysters on the half shell, maki rolls, desserts and a selection of cheeses. I honestly didn't know what to do at that point, and I was putting all sorts of stuff on my plate.

My next plan of action was to head to the breakfast food line. It was moving a bit slower because people were waiting for their made-to-order pancakes and waffles. I opted not to wait, and I filled my plate with breakfast sausages, bacon, home fries, roasted potatoes, a blueberry blintze, a slice of French toast, and eggs Benedict.

Now the food wasn't super spectacular, but it was definitely a fun time. But by the time I sat down with my third (and final) plate, I could hardly touch it. I was picking at it until it was no longer nice to look at. I couldn't even think of dessert, so I had Les pick-up a few slices of whatever she could when she went to check it out.

The view of the Marina from our table

Mimosas

The remnants of my "breakfast" food plate

Finale: the final plate (which I hardly touched)

The restaurant itself is quite interesting. It is fashioned in the style of an old fisherman's warehouse; a bit kitschy, yet cool at the same time. If I could explain it, I'd probably say it's a good cross between the set of Gilligan's Island and 'The Pirates of the Caribbean' ride at Disney. There are wooden planks, fish nets, bunting, and large wooden barrels situated all over the place. To get upstairs you have to use an industrial-style lift, that looks vintagey. And you're seated on tall wooden chairs with high-backs that were very Polynesian in style.

The Warehouse is situated in the Marina, facing the private docks, so if you're seated on the outdoor patio, or inside by the big windows, you're sure to have a great view. The place gets mixed reviews. I found it charming, and understood the wait due to the holidays. The food was OK; it defintely wasn't the best, but it had it's high points. Ning enjoyed the waffles, and we all thought that the breakfast-style foods were very good.

We were useless after the food-fest, but it was well worth it; a nice chance to celebrate the end of Lent, and the beginning of the Easter season. Praise the Lord, fo sho!
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The Warehouse, 4499 Admiralty Way, Marina Del Rey, CA 90292, 310-823-5451

GOOD FRIENDS BRING SMILES... GREAT FRIENDS BRING ---CHICKEN

2009-04-05T09:59:00.000-07:00

Last Friday was a pretty random day in the office. My boss cut out early, and while she was away she received a delivery of a dozen Sprinkles cupcakes. I called her to ask what to do with them, and she said to just pass them out since they'd probably not sit well after the weekend. Pass them out I did...

I took one and brought it to my friend, Yomi. Later on in the afternoon, she came upstairs to my cube and brought something in return:

You should've seen the look on my face! I literally fell on the floor, and laughed my ass off in disbelief at my friend's sheer ghettoness. But the gesture was heart-felt, and I secretly melted. Yomi sho nuff knows the way to my heart...! (HAHAHAHA.)

Yomi is the epitome of a "great" friend. I heart her!

THE WANT LIST

2009-03-31T12:22:00.000-07:00

As of this last day of March 2009, here is what's on my "want" list:

L-R/Clockwise from the top: Navy Single-Breasted Trench (Topman), "Billy" Bootcut - The Boss Wash (True Religion), Oval Sunglasses (Prada), Wool-Blend 'Kaleidescope' Cardigan (Adam), 1839 Dove-and-Crown Tee (Ralph Lauren), Ago Zip Boot (John Varvatos)

THE MECHANICAL BULL HAS ENTERED THE BUILDING

2009-03-30T09:01:00.001-07:00

Growing up in Ft. Washington, MD in the 80s & 90s, I had no exposure whatsoever to the mechanical bull. That kind of thing I only saw in movies or television shows. What else would you expect growing up in P. G. County --the wealthiest county in the nation with an African-American majority? There were no mechanical bulls to be found where I grew up. Back in the day, we had the Fort Foote Market to go to when we wanted Garbage Pail Kids or other snacks. We had to drive out to Springfield, VA for a decent mall (since there was no sense in driving to Landover or Iverson) to get our "I.O.U." sweatshirts from Merry Go Round. Even the restaurant scene was non-existent; before Bangkok Golden there was Shakey's in Livingston Square.

There was no place for a mechanical bull in P. G. County --then.

Nowadays, the mechanical bull has become somewhat symbolic in a way (for me, at least), but only since I've lived in Los Angeles. The Sunset Strip's Saddle Ranch Chop House is known for their mechanical bull. It's often the "jump off" spot on The Strip; you start there, and work your way down to Miyagi's or Chateau Marmont. SR is where some former "Real Worlders" and/or "Road Rulers" found themselves working after their stints with MTV. It's where masses of drunken women (and sometimes drunken men) dare to defy the odds of triumphing over the infamous "mechanical bull." On busy weekend nights, crowds of people surround SR's bull pen to watch as person after person after person would hop on the bull, thrash about as it rocked back and forth or up and down, and then finally be thrown off with nothing left but humiliation AND the adulation of drunk "fans" screaming at them from outside the pen. This is the scene that IS the SR in L.A. It's the place where I was taken as a visitor to L.A. back in the day, and the place where I now take my visitors to continue the chain of experience.

Now back to Ft. Washington, MD, and fast-forward to the present day --now.

I hear that the mechanical bull has made its way to the Metro DC area; in my parents' backyard, to be exact. How, why, when, why... how? I am clueless. But I guess it can only mean that Ft. Washington, MD has either (1) come a long way, or (2) has regressed. I choose to believe in option 1, Pat.

With the new National Harbor now up and operating in P. G. County, a slew of some of the nation's chainy and trendy fixtures are taking root there. Word is that the Aloft hotel has now opened; the Aloft is an offspring of Starwood Hotels, and boasts a boutique-ish/trendy "scene." Supposedly, L.A.'s Dolce was supposed to take root at the National Harbor, but it's more likely that its sister restaurant, Ketchup, will be the one to open up shop. Will it attract the Hollywood-esque crowd that it's used to? We have yet to find out. NYC's Rosa Mexicana now operates its second DC-area location at the Harbor. Local operations such as CakeLove, Bobby McKey's (dueling piano bar), and Grace's Mandarin proudly take their place alongside nationally known chains like Sauciety (at The Westin), McCormick & Schmick's, and Potbelly Sandwich Works. Even NYC's Bond 45 is expected to make an appearance at the Harbor soon.

What gets me, though, is the new "home" for the Harbor's own mechanical bull: Cadillac Ranch. Touted as an "All-American Bar & Grill," CR brings a bit of the SR-flavor to the Metro DC area. It may not have the same vibe as the Strip's SR (hot and very-accomodating bar tenders calling you to the bar as soon as you enter the Ranch's heavy velvety-curtained doorway, with an equally attractive & attentive wait staff; all actors and models, I'm sure), but it still brings that sense of Americana to that corner of the world by way of the mechanical bull. The next time I'm home, I have to check this place out. I must measure its potential against my knowledge and experience with SR. Part of me worries that CR will be way more conservative than it's L.A. cousin, but hey... everything comes with baby steps.

I think I'm gonna cry. Ft. Washington, MD is all grown-up. *tear*
--

OK. So I just read somewhere on-line that both the Saddle Ranch (from CA) and Cadillac Ranch (from the East Coast) had each made their way to Arizona early last year; SR @ Old Town Scottsdale, and CR @ Tempe Marketplace. The "ranch" war that waged sort of came head-to-head once the area realized that there was room for both ranches in the greater Scottsdale/Tempe areas. CR edged where food was concerned, but SR had the edge on scene. But that's in Arizona. We're talkin' "mechanical bulls" in Ft. Washington here. Who knows how this will end up?

One thing is for sure... For me, the Saddle Ranch on Sunset will always have a special place in my heart. (sigh)

DOING MY CIVIC DUTY... EH. (--ADDENDUM)

2009-03-27T09:31:00.001-07:00

Bad news: I got called to a panel yesterday afternoon (and found out, later, that everyone who reported for jury duty yesterday got called into a panel; my lucky day). We started late, and never got the juror interviews started so I will be reporting back after lunch today. Boo.

Good news: I got to sleep-in since I have a late reporting time, and the officiating judge is Judge Wapner (not the one you're thinking, but his son). He seems like a pretty laid-back guy, so that helps.

We shall see what happens. I have a crazy couple of weeks ahead, so I'm hoping I won't get chosen. But I have all the luck in the world, so... (note the sarcasm)

Grrr.

At least I got to sleep-in and have a nice breakfast. I should maybe enjoy the sunshine before I fight traffic into downtown. Happy Friday!

DOING MY CIVIC DUTY... EH.

2009-03-26T11:33:00.000-07:00

Last December I was asked to report for jury duty right around Christmas. Boo on that, right? Of course, I had to call and make the appropriate requests to have my serve date/week postponed. I almost forgot that my service was postponed until this week. So, I started the routine "call-in" this past Saturday. I didn't have to report on Monday. Same went for Tuesday, and then Wednesday. I thought I was free, but not-so-much. I called to check-in yesterday and lo and behold -- I was asked to report! BITCH!

So I got up this morning, made my way to the L.A. Superior Court in Downtown, and the waiting game has begun. So far they've called for two panels, both trials to be 15-days long. Thankfully I wasn't called. Lunch is going to be called in about 20 minutes, and then we play the game again starting at 1:30PM until about 4:30PM. Gosh this shit is fun. I'm ecstatic. Oh, and my friend kind of scared me about what I had to wear, so I didn't show up in jeans. I am SO annoyed.

At least I have my laptop, and I'm watching the bad-acting that is "Twilight."

Lord, help me. (Please?!)

I, ALEC...

2009-03-21T22:55:00.000-07:00

...am a proud member of the Volturi. I live in Volterra. I have special powers. And, most important of all, I am kind of a big deal. I'm one of the Volterra Wonder Twins, and my sister and I are totally kick-ass leaders of The Guard. You're jealous, I know.

I'm sorry. I totally just hallucinated.

But speaking of my brief moment of Volterra-esque obsession, I was actually quite shocked to find that amazon.com came through on its promise of bringing the Twilight DVD to my doorstep today. I feel like an effin' champ. The DVD came out today, and rumors of midnight release parties happening all over the nation was rampant.

It's not that I really loved the movie that much. In fact, it's actually pretty awful. But fortunately I read the book (and the three that follow it), and have found a vested interest in the movie for what it was worth: bringing the story of Twilight to life.

I, personally, don't think that I agree wholeheartedly with the overall cast of the film, let alone its direction. But it still does bring the story to life, so to speak. The only character that I felt was casted perfectly was 'Jessica Stanley' (portrayed by Anna Kendrick). I honestly felt the same annoyance with Kendrick's rendition of Jessica's annoyingness as I did when I read the book. Robert Pattinson is, for me, 'Edward Cullen,' although I personally wouldn't have originally picked him to play the role. But he's got the angst down to a science. And you can't really argue about Taylor Laughton as 'Jacob Black,' as well as Jackson Rathbone as 'Jasper Hale.' It's just too bad that the movie Jasper wasn't given as much of a time to shine as the book version did.

The rest of the cast was filled with many questionable choices. At the top of the list: Kristin Stewart as 'Bella Swan.' Bella's character is annoying as it is in the book. Stewart's version of Bella makes her annoyance 101%-more pronounced with her breathiness, her always-open mouth, and her lame facial expressions. Ashley Green wasn't pixie enough to be 'Alice Cullen.' Justin Chon was certainly not who I had in mind for 'Eric Yorkie.' And Peter Facinelli as 'Dr. Carlisle Cullen' was weird for me. I kept hearing "Trip McNeely!!!" in my head everytime 'Carlisle' came on-screen. So weird.

And the movie was riddled with poor dialogue, which was a shame since the book wasn't filled with such lameness (I guess we have screenwriter, Melissa Rosenburg, to blame for that). Of course there were a few lines that came straight out of the book, but for the most part that was not the case. It's a good thing that Catherine Hardewicke will not be directing New Moon. While her attempt at making Twilight was truly a nice one, it fell short on so many levels. If you watch the movie, you will note this quite obviously.

At any rate, I bought the DVD. Call it a personal act of loyalty to the phenomenon, which I still cannot believe has affected me as it has. And today, the day that the DVD was released, was special in a way. My sis, her friend Mai, my roomie Ning, and I sort of made an evening of it. We made dinner, drank beer (Peroni!), watched through disc 2, and then saw the movie again (we had all seen it in theaters prior). We laughed at the ridiculousness of it all, but yet were still entertained.

Twi-dinner: Meatloaf "muffin," rice and grilled squash/zucchini

The phenomenon has now come full-circle. My sights are now on New Moon. Chris Weitz, please do us proud.

BREAKFAST OF CHAMPIONS

2009-03-21T20:57:00.001-07:00

My sis and her friend, Mai, came in town super-late Thursday night (Friday morning) to spend the weekend with lil ol' me. This morning my roomie, Ning, had to run an errand in Pasadena, but we first stopped through Burbank for a quick appointment that she had. We decided to grab brunch at Porto's Bakery, which is a Cuban-American family-owned bakery (locations in Glendale and Burbank). Anyone in the greater L.A. area knows that this place is simply amazing. Even before 11AM on a Saturday morning, the line was out the door.

My sis, Mai and I stayed in line to order while Ning went to her appointment. This is what I personally ended up with:

Clockwise from top-right: chorizo pie, cheese roll, and potato ball

Media Noche Preparada (Midnight Sandwich w/Croquettes)

This meal was obviously one of the best brunches I've had in a long time. We each got different sandwiches. Aside from the Media Noche Preparada (which is made of slow-roasted pork, ham, mashed potato croquettes, Swiss cheese, butter, and mustard on a sweet roll), the other sandwiches presence were: Cubano (slow-roasted pork, ham, Swiss cheese, mustard, and pickles on Cuban bread), Pan con Lechon (slow-roasted pork, mojo garlic sauce, and grilled onions on grilled Cuban bread), and the classic Cubano (slow-roasted pork, ham, Swiss cheese, mustard, and pickles on Cuban bread). Each sandwich was served with a side of Mariquitas, homemade plaintain chips.

Also magically appearing on our table (right): Potato Balls (Papas rellenas) - mashed potato with seasoned ground beef breaded and fried into a bowl, a Chorizo Pie (Pastel de Chorizo) - Spanish-style empanada filled with pork, and the famous Cheese Rolls - pastry filled with a sweet queso fresca-ish cheese filling. To drink we had cups of delicious coffee and a mango smoothie to wash it all down.

Porto's Bakery is also known for their desserts... none of which we even came close to touching. But their selection of sweets can easily send you into an unbelievably happy place: cheesecake slices, mango mousse balls, tarts, flan, bread pudding, and even Capuchinos - a very traditional Cuban treat of cone-shaped light sponge cake soaked in rum syrup...to name a few.

Best place EVARRR!!!
--

Porto's Bakery, 3614 W. Magnolia Blvd., Burbank, CA 91504, 818.846.9100

POST-ST. PATTY'S DAY GOODNESS...

2009-03-21T20:40:00.000-07:00

My co-worker got a bunch of people together to order a dozen cupcakes from Sprinkles in Beverly Hills. I ordered only one... it was called "Irish Creme" or something like that. Check it out:

Sprinkles' Irish Creme Cupcake: The Before Shot

After I dove-in...

It took me not even 5 minutes to pounce on this one like my life depended on it. But in true spirit-of-the-Irish form, I spent the evening getting sloshed on Newcastle, Hefeweizen, and Irish Car Bombs. Slaintè!
---

Sprinkles Cupcakes, 9635 Little Santa Monica Boulevard, Beverly Hills, CA 90210, 310.274.8765

NYC / DAY THREE

2009-03-17T16:17:00.000-07:00

We slowly got up Sunday morning. Aydee and I had originally planned on going to Mass, but since we weren't in bed till past 5AM, we were struggling to wake-up to make late check-out. Nevertheless, we eventually got started on our "short" long day ahead.

I checked us out of the hotel, and we left our bags with the concierge while we went to scope out an ATM. We were headed toward The Blarnery Stone again when we happened to stumble upon an ATM machine. Afterward, we headed toward Chinatown once more on foot. The plan was to meet Laya and Bernard for dim sum before we left for Port Authority. We met them outside Grand Harmony Palace (98 Mott St., Chinatown), which I believe I had been to once years before. For Sunday dim sum, the place was crowded as usual, and we were given a number. When we finally got called-in, we were a little disappointed that there was seriously like one cart going through a ballroom filled with packed tables. Some tables sat two or more parties together if there wasn't enough space available.

The worst part about it was that people were actually chasing the cart as it passed, instead of there being enough carts to even turn away! And the food we picked-up from the cart was cold by the time it was in front of our faces. Thankfully, the food was tasty... but it would've been tons better if it were warm. Oh well.

We parted ways with Laya and Bernard, and took a train back to the hotel. We picked-up our luggage, then went back underground to catch a train to Midtown. We laughed at each other as we experienced problems trying to bring our heavy luggage through the NYC Subway system's turnstiles. Uhh, let's update the system, NYC. Please. HA! After what seemed like forever, we finally arrived at Port Authority, and fell in line for our bus. Thankfully, there were enough seats for all of us, and we were soon on our way out of the city and onto the Jersey Turnpike. Thankfully, there wasn't much traffic, so we made it to the DC bus depot (in NoMa; North of Massachusetts Ave... who knew?!) at a decent time. We walked over to the Metro station, and took a train into the Financial District to Carrie's work. We hopped in her car, then headed to Bowie to get Gina's car.

Traveling along I-95, it felt good to be "home." We stopped in at Aydee's to drop her off, and to see Siena, who had prepared us "breakfast dinner." (Thanks, Sien!) We ate, had coffee, and told Siena all of the funny stories from NYC. Then Gina and I decided to call it a night, and she brought me home.

It was a great "quick" trip to NYC, and I'm really glad that I made it. I'm even more glad that Ay, Gina and Carrie were able to meet me. Bonus: seeing some of our friends who are now living in the city. It definitely was a "feel good" trip for me, and I am feeling the pull to relocate there more and more.

That said, it's time to set the wheels in motion.
--

***Photo of Grand Harmony Palace by RK Chin

NYC / DAY TWO (Part II)

2009-03-17T13:58:00.000-07:00

(How sad is it that I had to separate the posts for Day Two?! HA!)

After I stuffed myself with cupcakes, I went out to look for Gina. She had ran into a bar to meet Laya, who was seated with a beer. Of course, I found them, and joined in. Carrie and Aydee stayed behind at Buttercup to wait for our other friend who was in town, Donn. So there we were sitting at P. D. O'Hurley's (174 W 72nd St., b/t Amsterdam & Columbus), an Irish pub with a real Irish bar tendress!

After a while, Donn finally arrived at Buttercup, and the three of them walked over to O'Hurley's. We all got re-aquainted, and another round of drinks came. Aydee and Donn decided to swoop-in next door at Grey's Papaya (2090 Broadway, b/w W 71st/Amsterdam & W 72nd) since Ay had never been. Next thing you know, we were on to round 3 at the bar. Knowing that we had a list of things to do still, I closed out the tab, and then we were off. Laya wanted to take us to a special "cookie" place that had been featured on The Food Network. We crossed Broadway, and headed towards W 74th. She took us to a tiny doorway to Levain Bakery (167 W 74th, UWS b/t Amsterdam & Columbus), a little shop that serves specialty cookies.

The shop's sign above the stairway

Going down the stairs into the tiny shop

The most amazing cookies EVER!

After the quick cookie-run, we walked toward Midtown. But first, Gina, Laya and I made a quick stop back at O'Hurley's to use the bathroom... AND to grab a shot. We drunk-walked towards Midtown, and I stopped in at a shoe store which Laya spoke highly of. Not even 5 minutes later, I walked out of the store with a new pair of boots, to which the gang applauded and called me "sucka!" Whatever. We finally reach a train station, and hopped on the next one headed to 42nd St.

We ascended from the station below onto the wrecklessly busy streets of Time Square. The alcohol plus the growing crowds, and the deafening sounds of car horns and chatter were making me ill as we walked toward Donn's hotel (Hilton Garden Inn). We stopped in at his hotel lobby to use the bathroom, then we were on foot again. We walked a few streets over to a place called Say Cheese (649 9th Ave., Midtown), which Ay also wanted to try. Half of the gang sat down for a bite, while the other half of us walked into Mercury Bar (659 9th Ave., Midtown) next door.

Gina and I sat down and each ordered beers. Carrie went to find a peanut vendor. The other three (Ay, Donn and Laya) sat down for grilled cheeses next door. When Carrie came into the bar, she sat down and instantaneously I had a feeling that she would make some kind of connection with our bar-tender, Jonathan. And sho' nuff, next thing you know they're chattin' it up while me and Gina keep making faces at each other as this was all happening. When Jonathan left a drink in front of Carrie, me and Gina stopped and listened in on their conversation:

CARRIE: What is this?

JONATHAN: What's your name?

CARRIE: Carrie.

JONATHAN: It's called the "Carrie," then.

BARF. GAG. BLEH.

By the time the rest of the gang arrived at the bar, Carrie had downed her drink, and Gina and I were on round 3, with a set of shots being poured out. We brought the rest of the gang up-to-speed with the Carrie/Jonathan banter, and somehow someone had blurted out that it was Carrie's birthday. It might've been Ay or Laya.

AY or LAYA: It's Carrie's birthday tonight! Give her a shot of tequila!

JONATHAN: (to Carrie) Oh, it's your birthday? I'll give you more than a shot of tequila... tonight.

Apparently, we all heard that last line, EXCEPT FOR CARRIE (of course). So in our drunken state-of-mind, we each reiterated the importance of coming back to Mercury Bar that night: so Carrie could get her swerve-on, and we could get our drink-on. There's something for everyone in NYC. Something for everyone!

We finally left, but we stopped to take a picture with a pig statue outside a place called Rudy's Bar & Grill (627 9th Ave., Midtown). Random, I know.

Rudy's

Gina and I with the pig statue outside Rudy's

We finally hopped on a train back to downtown, and got to the hotel to get ready for Carrie's birthday celebration. While Gina helped Carrie finish getting ready, Ay, Laya and I headed down to the hotel bar for a round of drinks. (Oh yes.) I closed the tab once G and Carrie made it down, and then we were back on a train headed toward NoLita. The restaurant we originally planned to go to could not sit our large party (which had grown as the night progressed). So thinking quick on our feet, we ended up at a spot right across the way: La Cave des Fondus (20 Prince St., NoLita b/t Mott & Elizabeth Streets). The restaurant is located underneath another restaurant/bar, so we had to descend a stony staircase lined with tea lights. It was almost as if we were going down some dank lair where a coven of vampires awaited us (I'm not obsessed with vampires; really I'm not). At the other side of a Medieval-style iron door was a quaint dining area with a bar, furnished in the style of an old French countryside inn: stone walls and floors accented with wooden pillars, tables and chairs. The strong scent of cheese filled the air, and the chatter of those already dining meshed along with the background music. As we waited for our table, we congregated by the bar, drank more, and caught-up with old friends from college (my old college roommate Rithy, and my FCA "ading" Donna to name a couple). Once we were seated, the wait staff went right to work. We ate like the French, which basically means that we ate minimally. And at $31 a pop, it was no joke that we were still unabashedly hungry. But we were out in the name of fun, so it didn't bother us.

After dinner, we skipped the original spot where we were supposed to grab drinks. Instead, we hopped on a train back to Midtown, and stopped in at The Cellar Bar @ The Bryant Park Hotel (40 W 40th St., Bryant Park). Laya's boyfriend, Bernard, got us in through a friend that was working at the lounge. Little did we know that the bar would turn into one of the city's hot spots at night. While the space was swank, it was crowded like no joke; seriously ANNOYINGLY so. But still, we did a round of drinks there before we decided that we should head out. We eventually found our way back to Mercury Bar (on foot), where we met up with another friend, Gwen, who had moved to the city. There, the party continued... the drinks flowed... and Jonathan did his part: he hooked us up with a couple of drinks, gave Carrie some "special" drinks, and even took a couple of pictures with her (pictures that I do NOT have). Gina and I won the award of being "the drunkest ever" that night, while Carrie slid on by.

Not realizing that we were losing an hour, and because NYC is super cool and did NOT call out "last call," we finally stumbled out around 4AM. We went to some random diner next door, which wasn't all that. Then we finally parted ways with our friend, Rithy, as he headed home to New Harlem, and we caught a cab back to the hotel.
--

***Photo of La Cave des Fondus from thrillist.com
***Photo of The Cellar Bar from worldsbestbars.com

NYC / DAY TWO (Part I)

2009-03-17T12:10:00.001-07:00

Saturday, March 7, 2009. There's no better way to start a Saturday morning than with a fresh cup of Starbucks. Luckily, there was one right around the corner from the hotel. So we made our first stop of the day there. Soon after, we were headed towards Chinatown on foot.

We took the northeast length of Church St. towards NoLita. But once we hit Canal, we had entered the area more popularly known as NYC's Chinatown. NYC's Chinatown is a bastion of Chinese immigrant culture; a true mecca where East meets West. It may not be as "flowery" as San Francisco's Chinatown, but NYC's Chinatown is gritty, in-your-face, and you will find people from all sorts of backgrounds and creeds meeting at this epicenter for some of the best cheap eats and cheap buys in the city.

Countless store fronts offering everything from T-shirts, to "cubic" silver jewelry (one business woman described her jewelry as "cubic" silver, to which we quietly snickered), to the fakest of the fake in Prada, Balenciaga, and yes, even a "good" fake Muse by YSL (even I had to double-take that one). I scored an NYC onesie for my nephew, Noah, and the girls were on the hunt for a "good" fake bag. From past experience, Gina was keeping her ears in tune to shop keepers calling out "Gucci-Gucci, Prada-Prada" on the sides of the street; hoping to get one of the mythical invites to the big white vans, or to a shop keeper's "secret room." When she bit at the call of a random, younger-looking guy from the street, he led us into a huge store, and took us to a back door that he had to unlock with a key. Gina and Carrie followed him down the stairs, while Aydee and I stayed up front. It was straight out of a scene from a movie where friends get separated in a seedy part of Chinatown, and the two who were led away are then forced to live a life of slavery in some hidden sweatshop underneath the city streets. I was secretly prepping myself to lead a campain to save my missing friends, but then Gina resurfaced after a couple of minutes.

GINA: Wen, can you come down here? We need your expertise.

I felt like I was about to be betrayed by one of my best friends, so I pulled Aydee with me. At least the two of us would be gutsy enough to fight back if anything were to happen. What if we were pulled down to some back room, where Carrie was being interrogated by undercover cops? Or what if Gina had secretly been an agent for some underground Chinatown crime syndicate, and she was being paid gazillions to lead us to our fate?!

We followed Gina down into the basement of the building where boxes of shoes were piled up, ready to be shipped out or delivered to nearby stores. We kept walking towards a room, where we could see light peering out from the side of the hallway. I was almost certain that this was the end of the road for us all until I heard the conversation from inside:

GHETTO GIRL #1: Girl! I want this Coach bag! You think I can use this at church?

GHETTO GIRL #2: Emm-hmm! Lemme find out how much that cost... (calling to one of the workers) Excuse me! How much this is?! This one righ' hea'!?

At the other corner of the room stood Carrie, wide-eyed at the multitude of Chanel and Marc Jacobs knock-offs that were staring back at her. She didn't know what to do with herself. Almost instantly, I was being asked what I thought about this bag, or that. As if I actually knew what I was doing. So I reached deep inside myself to find my "fake bag detector" cap, put it on, and got to work. I'm not a Coach fan, and all the fakes were just a repulsive as the real ones. So I wasn't of much help with those, aside from checking on the quality of the bag's hardware, zippers, and/or pockets and straps. When Carrie was eyeing a fake Chanel, I steered her from plain, smooth leather(ette) bags, and told her to stick to textured looks.

WEN: If you're going to "fake it till you make it" (I stole that from Kimora), then it's better to go with something textured. Textured pieces tend to be harder to scrutinize.

She ended up with some random Coach carry-all, and a decent-looking Chanel tote. Gina was eyeing a Fendi. And although I pointed out that the Fs in the logo weren't as close together as the real ones are, we found one that was decent enough to pimp. When we were the last ones in the room, we bartered with the girl who was making deals with the customers, and she "gave us a deal" because we "look like Chinese." Wow. A moment where our Asianness worked in our favor. *TEAR*

When we finally ascended back from the secret bag dungeon, we were eyeing food. We ended up at some random spot at the corner of Walker and Baxter streets. The name of the place escapes me, but from the outside windows you could see roasted ducks hanging on one side, and yummy-looking desserts on the other.

Roasted Duck (and the reflection of the street against the glare of the window)

Desserts

The little restaurant was filled with Chinese patrons, along with obvious tourists. People were eating everything from duck to bowls of piping hot noodle soups, rice dishes, and dumplings. We all kept it simple. Aydee ordered a dish of fried rice, I ordered a combination plate of roast pork and roast duck over rice, and Gina and Carrie each ordered a plate of Beef and Pork in egg over rice dishes respectively.

Carrie's Dish Before...

Gina's Dish After...

After having our fill, we were back on-foot, and headed towards the nearest train station. Destination: Central Park. We were on the hunt for an uptown train. We found one around Mott and Canal, and we descended down to the train station below.

We got off somewhere between 60th and 70th, and walked towards the park along E 72nd. As big as it was, we barely scratched the surface. Carrie was on the search for landmarks from the movie, Enchanted. I have never seen the movie, so I was oblivious to it all. But she seemed to be elated once she saw the famed Bethesda Fountain at the heart of Central Park. The fountain was off, probably because of the winter weather still lingering around, and people had gathered around for a side show that was going on.

Bethesda Fountain, Central Park, NYC

After watching the show for about 15 minutes, we were on our way to the other side of the park. We continued on W 72nd, and were on the hunt for Buttercup Bake Shop (141 W 72nd St., b/t Amsterdam & Columbus). Buttercup is the brainchild of one of the originating founders of NYC's now legendary Magnolia Bake Shop, which is credited as the bakery that started the U.S.' growing obsession with cupcakes and cupcakeries. The shop is located on the business-lined stretch of W 72nd, between the busy streets of Amsterdam and Columbus. The flavors are plentiful, and the aroma of the freshly-baked cakes are tantalizing.

I quickly got to work, and started to survey the different flavors of cupcakes. I decided to get a handle on four: Red Velvet, Peanut Butter & Jelly, Buttercup Golden with Vanilla Icing, and Sour Cream Spice. I brought them to the table, and after examining them (and taking pictures) we took our forks and dug into each cupcake like a bunch of vultures. The red velvet was clearly a winner; easily ONE of the best red velvet cupcakes that I've ever had. But it wasn't the hands-down winner. That billing goes to peanut butter & jelly: peanut buttery cake with a grape jelly filling, and a peanuty icing. Simply amazing! The buttercup golden was good as well, but the spice cupcake was a little drier than the rest. All in all, it was a great experience.

NYC / DAY ONE

2009-03-17T10:12:00.000-07:00

In my last post, I gave you a quick and dirty (sort of) glimpse of what went down in NYC. Unfortunately, I didn't have my USB chord with me because I left it in L.A. like an idiot. The thing is, now that I'm back, I've realized that I hadn't taken as many pictures as I had hoped. But that's just all a part of Wen's true style. Once inebriation in in full effect, pictures are more than likely not to come to fruition. Unless, of course, someone else is taking them.

Anyway.

In an effort to make-do with what I have, I shall now re-cap my NYC trip with what few pictures I do have to share. Hopefully, you'll find these stories (and photos) somewhat enjoyable. PS: some of the pictures aren't that great because I tend to refuse to play around with the camera's settings just to take a perfect picture. Blah-blah, I know. Whatever.

Shall we?!

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Friday, March 6, 2009. At around 11am-ish my friend, Aydee, and I descended from our 36th-floor hotel room down to the hotel lobby to make our way to the South Street Seaport (Pier 17, near Downtown). The Seaport was merely a 10-minute walk from the hotel. Thankfully, the weather was decent, so we weren't in danger of freezing our bums off. Once we got there, we went through a few shops, and I was able to pick-up a couple of little things to bring home to Lexi (you gotta love random gift shops that sell Hello Kitty products).

When we finally got hungry, we started to walk-up to different restaurants to check out what was being served. Since it was a Friday --a Lenten Friday-- we had our restrictions: no meat. For me, the restrictions went a bit deeper since I also gave up fried food. So that narrowed our choices down to almost nothing. We were tempted by a random deli-style buffet spot, but the instant sight of the gloriously-fried orange chicken made us hiss like vampires that just came across blood. (OK, that means vegetarian vampires like Edward Cullen. Yes, I went there.) So after practically running out of that joint, we found ourselves outside of The Blarney Stone (121 Fulton St., Downtown) --a no-nonsense Irish pub that was a perfect mix of dank, dark, dingy, yet full of Northeastern Irish American charm.

Ironically, they didn't have much to offer for the practicing Catholic in terms of food. And even more ironic was the Latino "cook" behind the counter taking everyone's orders. After looking at what was available, I came to the conclusion that all I could really have was a plate of rice and beans. In an instant, the friendly cook was shoveling copious amounts of rice onto a plate, and then spattered an equal amount of red beans (my choice) alongside it. That was lunch for about $3. Aydee decided to go for a pre-mixed house salad for about the same price. It was "roughage" that she was looking for at this point. So we took our trays and walked over to an empty table for two. The table's legs were obviously un-even, and the slightest move caused a considerable amount of shaking; enough so that our plates could have easily slid off. But we didn't care. We were starving, and we were elated because of the Blarney's $5 Yeager Bombs! Yes, it was the weirdest "Irish pub" lunch of all time: house salad, rice & beans, and Yeager Bombs... two rounds of them.

An Irish Pub Lunch: Rice & Beans, and a House Salad

Yeager Bombs

Once lunch was over, we bid farewell to the Blarney, and laughed our way over to the Brooklyn Bridge. We somehow managed to walk to the first side-span of the bridge up till the first pylon. It took us over the banks of the East River. After circling the first pylon/tower, we headed back to the hotel to drop off the shopping bags.

We were prepping ourselves to make Happy Hour at The Skinny Bar & Lounge (174 Orchard St., LES) in the Lower East Side. HH at this spot starts at 5PM, and lasts till 9PM; a true God-send. We hopped in a cab, and made acquaintances with the driver, Ben, who had been driving a cab in the city for only about six months. An immigrant from the islands, he asked us about our nationality. When he heard us say "Filipino," he was all up on the political history of somewhat recent times: the fall of Marcos, the rise of Aquino, the People Power Revolution, etc. The scene was literally ripped off an episode of Taxi Cab Confessionals.

We weren't sure of the exact spot of the place, so Ben dropped us off at Canal and Orchard, and we walked north on Orchard toward Stanton. Orchard is a quiet, business-lined street. I was actually quite smitten as I heard a shop-owner call out to a patron at a rival shop across the way, "I've got the same items... but better and less expensive!" It was a fine NYC moment... for me, at least. When we crossed Delancey, I saw The Skinny ahead, where HH heaven awaited us.

We entered the empty space, music blaring in the background. A lone bar-tender, who we later found out was named Hillary, was prepping the bar for the night. It was already 5:30PM; a half-hour into the night's HH. We went right to work, and ordered the first round.

The night passed on, and we were pacing ourselves nicely. Drink after drink, shot after shot. Then just before 9PM, we closed out our tab at a beautiful $40-something, which was great considering we had been drinking non-stop since about 5:30PM. We tipped Hillary nicely because she gave us Washington Apple Shots (w/Maker's) on the house. And because of that nice tip, she gave Aydee and I another on-the-house shot: Birthday Cake Shots. It made my night, but ruined Aydee's. She headed to the bathroom, and after about 15 to 20 minutes of being in there, I went to check-in on her. NOT a good sight (this is why you eat rice & beans before drinking, and NOT a salad). I left her for another 10 to 15 minutes before grabbing the rest of our stuff, and going back into the bathroom to make the necessary assist. The bar had filled-up by this time, and I was trying to avoid any awkwardness with the line at the bathroom (PS: the locks on the bathroom doors did NOT work...).

You can use your imagination to deduce what took place then. I had to pseudo-sober myself to help Aydee out of the bar, and back into the streets. Luckily, we found a cab. I didn't get this driver's name, and I was urging him to hurry us back to the hotel while my friend gagged and dry-heaved (thank GOD she only dry-heaved!) all the way back. I brought Drunky McPhee up to the hotel room, and wished for something good to happen. After realizing that she was going to be OK (in other words, after she was passed-out), I headed back out, still pseudo-sober, and started towards the ATM. But my cell phone stopped me. I answered, and I was happy to hear a familiar voice on the opposite end.

CARRIE: Wen, we're coming up towards the hotel right now.

WEN: (looking around franctically) Where? Where are you?

Once I caught sight of Carrie, with Gina in tow right behind her, I let out a sigh of relief. As they crossed the street to where I was standing, another overly-drunk guy was stumbling all over the place just a few feet from me; he almost ran face-on into a street sign. This sent the three of us into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

WEN: I'm so glad to see you guys! I felt so alone just now!

GINA: Oh my gosh, we missed the party. You're drunk!

WEN: And Aydee is passed-out!

ALL: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAH!

And SCENE.

We went upstairs to drop off their bags, and to check up on our drunk friend. She had party-fouled and threw-up a little on the hotel's comforter (Sorry, Millenium Hilton!), so we stripped the bed, got her some water, and strategically placed her lying on the bed with her head propped to the edge. A trash can was placed right underneath her head. When we knew she was OK, we went back out into the night, and took a cab to the East Village to meet up with our friend, Laya.

We were hungry, and and I was still drunk --although being in pseudo-sober mode I had made myself believe that I was actually sober. There was still 30 minutes before the clock struck midnight, so we quickly found a spot: Simone Martini Bar (134 First Ave. @ St. Mark's Place, East Village). The place was packed, but we were seated after a few minutes. The decor was a mixture of cheesy Russian "Amber Room"-like sculpted ceilings with Asiany lanterns and Buddha heads scattered all over the place. It was kitschy, yet sceney. The place reminded me of what would happen if West Hollywood's Bar Lubitsch had spawned off-spring with Hollywood's Geisha House, but less polished. Still, the air of the place was chill, loud, yet comfy. It felt like "home."

Because it was technically still Friday, we ended up ordering Lent-friendly. Carrie and I both got tuna salad sandwiches, and Gina ordered the Quiche Florentine. Oh, and we ordered a round of drinks. Halfway through that drink, I realized that I was still drunk; tanked almost. But as the night plowed on, we ordered yet another round, which was good for Gina and Carrie, but not-so-good for me. But I held on like a champ, and didn't allow myself to fall victim to the spirits of the bottle. Graceful drunkenness is something that I do best (most of the time).

When Laya could sense that Carrie and Gina were growing more and more tired by the minute, and after my friends called me out for slurring (and my eyes rollin' back to my head), it was obvious: we were done. Laya walked us towards the nearest train station, but only after we stopped at Ray's Pizza (2 St. Mark's Place, East Village) to pick-up some pastries: bread pudding, cheesecake slice, and a brioche bun. It would've been nice to order pizza, but we obviously weren't thinking right.

At the station, we hugged Laya "good-night," then hopped on the train back downtown. Within the hour, we were safe at the hotel, and were soon drifting asleep to the sounds of Aydee's worship session with the porcelain god.
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***Photo of Simone shop front by Tracey Donvito; from Wikipages
***Photo of Simone interior by Lauren Klain Carton; from "New York Nightlife"

YOU CAN TAKE THE BOY OUT OF THE CITY...

2009-03-11T11:43:00.000-07:00

...but you can't take the city out of the boy.

I spent the past few days traipsing along in NYC and in DC, and I reclaimed a sense of clarity that I had been seeking in the last few months. That's all I'm going to say on the subject while I continue to map-out my life in the next few days, weeks, months, and year. All I ask is that you wish me luck!
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NYC

My mini-trip to NYC was nothing less than GREAT. I flew into JFK not having any expectations but to have a fun time with friends, and I ended up leaving with so much more. Again, I'll have to expound on that later. For now, I'll tell you about the little nooks that I found myself in while galavanting around.

Friday: I checked-in to my hotel room, and then walked to Century 21. Lots of neat stuff, but I was too sleepy to try to search for the "perfect buy." I gave up too easily, left to pick-up a toasted bagel across the way, then went back to my room to shower and wait for my friend, Aydee, to arrive. Once she got in, we took a walk down to South Street Seaport and shopped around. We grabbed a bite at The Blarney Stone, which thus started the weekend obsession with Irish pubs. (More details to come, along with pictures. I left my USB chord in L.A. like an idiot.) I will say this: $5 Yeager Bombs. Enough said. Afterward, we walked to The Brooklyn Bridge, and walked the distance toward the first part of the bridge that jutted out across the river. Surreal. Then we turned around to head back to the hotel to drop our stuff off.

We grabbed a cab, and headed towards The Village, and ended up at a bar called The Skinny. We were the happy hour winners of the night (and there's a great story to be told; again, I'll re-cap once I'm back in L.A.). After being there 3.5 hours, we cabbed it back to the hotel, where we met Carrie and Gina, who had just arrived from DC. After they got situated, we headed over to St. Mark's Sq. to meet our friend, Laya, at a lounge/restaurant called Simone. Before calling the night, we stopped in at Ray's Pizza NOT for pizza, but to pick-up some YUM-looking desserts: cheesecake slice, a brioche bun, and bread pudding.

Saturday: We grabbed a cup of Starbucks, then walked to Chinatown from the hotel. We followed someone quietly calling to us: "Gucci-Gucci, Prada-Prada." Next thing you know, we were being led into a basement area to find gazillions of fake designer handbags. It was hilarious and scary at the same time. Carrie and Gina each got away with some good buys, then we grabbed eats at a corner hole-in-the-wall spot. The name escapes me, but it was good... lots of cooked ducks hanging in the window. Gotta love NYC's Chinatown!

We then took the train uptown, and got off near Central Park. We walked thru, and got to see some interesting sights, including a side-show in front of Bethesda Fountain. When we were done, we walked to Buttercup Bake Shop to partake in their famous cupcakes. All I can say is "YUM." Honestly, they blow the likes of Sprinkles out of the water. Then we stopped in at a pub just a few doors away called P.D. O'Hurley's, where Laya was already seated with a brew. This started day two of drinking.

We took a quick detour to stop at Levain Bakery where they serve these amazingly FAT slobs of COOKIES. Di-freakin'-vine. Then we walked back to O'Hurley's to use the bathroom, and grab a shot.

We started to make our descent towards Midtown on foot, and along the way I stopped in at a random shoe store, and came out with a new pair of boots. It was a drunk purchase done under 5 minutes; a true self-talent (and in record time!) if I say so myself. We finally jumped on a train, and got to 42nd St. We walked over to our friend Donn's hotel lobby for another bathroom break, and then we headed to a spot called Say Cheese; they specialize in grilled cheese sandwiches. Half of the gang ate, while the other half (aka "The Drunk Half") walked next door to Mercury Bar to have more drinks. And did they flow.

We finally made it back to the hotel to prep for Carrie's b'day dinner, and some of us headed to the hotel bar to keep the buzz going. We finally hopped on the train, and headed to NoLita. Our original restaurant wouldn't seat our large party, so we ended up at La Cave Des Fondus - fondue spot (I will have to expound on this experience later as well). Then we headed back up to Midtown to peep The Cellar Bar at the Bryant Park Hotel. After being in that crowded mess for a good half hour, we walked back to Mercury Bar, and the night went on: libations and laughs to last us well into the next week.

Sunday: By this time, we were all hurting... bad. We checked-out, and walked back to Chinatown to meet Laya and her BF, Bernard, for dim sum. Then we went back to the hotel, grabbed our bags, and took the train back to Port Authority, and made our way home to DC.

DC

Monday: Like an idiot, I figured it would be a great idea to do DC on-foot since it had been a while. I took the train into the city, and got out at Foggy Bottom. I felt like a college student walking the streets of GWU with my messenger bag, and jeans/t-shirt on. I met up with Carrie, and we grabbed a bite at The Front Page, just off DuPont. After leaving her, I hopped on the train, and got off at Federal Triangle. I walked the length of The National Mall all the way to the National Museum of the Native American. It's such a great place, with awesome exhibits. You definitely have to check it out if you haven't already. After checking out the museum, I headed to the Penn Quarter, and met my friend, Leah, at Red Velvet cupcakes. I picked-up a dozen to bring to my brother's place. Then we walked over to the Hotel Monaco, and had a couple of drinks at Poste, one of my favorite restaurants in DC.

Tuesday: I spent the day with my nephew, and at night, I was able to head over to Old Town Alexandria (VA), and grabbed some sangria and Spanish tapas at La Tasca, one of my favorite tapas restaurants in the DC area. YUM.

Now it's mid-week. I have another dinner with friends tonight, and a few more days to enjoy before heading back to L.A.

More to come!