Happy Jew Year!

September 8, 2010

That's pepper on the matzo ball. My doing.

Sorry I didn’t write yesterday. Actually… I’m not sorry. NOT sorry I didn’t write yesterday. I didn’t eat anything worth writing about, and I was reading the second Hunger Games book (Catching Fire). Among other things.

OH HEY, did you know that today (er, beginning at sundown today) is ROSH HASHANAH? Also known as the Jewish new year? Apparently it’s 5771 now. I have some mental block against knowing what Jewish year it is. Usually I just default to 5756, because it has a nice ring to it. (Apparently 5756 was in 1995. That was probably the one year I had to learn the Jewish year, in Hebrew school or something.)

The traditional Snack of Rosh Hashanah is apples and honey, for a sweet new year. We have both of those things in the office so I just might chow down… later. For now, I happen to have a Jewishy post on deck, so I figured I’d slap it up this morning, so I can go back to Catching Fire… and work. (I DO work, you know.) (GLARE.)

Over the weekend my parents and I took an unexpected jaunt to LA to rescue a beloved family couch from being kicked to the curb. On the way home we stopped in Long Beach and lunched at Katella Deli, one of our family’s chosen Jewish delis. (Get it?)

What I actually ate is pictured above. I think I literally ate that whole basket of bread. But if I’m going to binge on a basket of bread, that is the best basket possible. Pumpernickel, rye, challah, and what I THINK were mini kaiser rolls, with poppy or sesame seeds on top (the first basket had poppy seed).

And matzo ball soup is a Passover food, but whatever.

My favorite part of Katella deli is the order-out counter in the back, where you can admire all sorts of amazing desserts, most of which are somewhat nostalgic for all the Jews out there who grew up eating.

As far as the eye can see...

I have a soft spot for the sprinkle cookies… you know how I love my rainbow sprinkles.

Cookies a la sprinkle.

Whenever I post something colorful, I always have to stop myself from just writing, “The colors! The colors!” I think that was a line in an old Skittles commercial.

Also, can you spot my finger in the shot? I keep doing that, lately. Amateur hour.

Oh, here’s another holiday food that’s not at all associated with Rosh Hashanah. Hamentaschen. For Purim!

I'm skeptical about the prune flavor.

I gotta wonder if prune’s a big seller. I mean, I guess they cater to an older clientele. But my faves are apricot, poppy seed, and chocolate (duh). (Duh to all of those, knowing me.)

The hamentaschen are supposed to look like a three-cornered hat, because the bad guy (Hamen) always wore one. But that’s a story for PURIM, not Rosh Hashanah.

And here are a few desserts that have nothing to do with any personal nostalgia/Jewish holidays, but I just had to document them.

Can you spot everything adorable in this picture?

Those sea creatures slay me! I love starfishes! And those ladybugs are TOO HAPPY. I don’t know if I could eat these. Too cute.

And here’s a dessert where the animal is not a plastic thingy…

Not sure how I feel about this...

Kinda creeps me out, but I bet it’s delicious.

Lest you think that Rosh Hashanah is way healthier than all the other holidays, it also involves round loaves of challah and HONEY CAKE. Oh man, the thing I miss most about college is the amazing honey cake (spice bread?) they had at Hillel this time of year. If I can make it there this year and they still have it, I’m going to steal like 100 pieces. (Or… 4.)

In college I’d always break my Yom Kippur fast with the Hillel honey/spice bread/cake, but my body hates fasting (surprise surprise?), so food/drink would BURN my dehydrated mouth. (I’ve also ended fasts with intense vomiting… I generally don’t fast anymore.)

I wish I had the recipe for that cake, so I wouldn’t have to infiltrate/eat it when my mouth isn’t functioning.

But the potential for pain and torture comes next week. For now… HAPPY NEW YEAR! (Cue mouth-buzzer kazoos and confetti.)

L’shanah tovah!

xoxo…

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Snack Trek: GETTY VILLA PICNIC- The Villa

September 3, 2010

Taking pictures of Lauren taking pictures. Not creepy at all.

At last, we’ve reached part 3 of 3! Of course the food of the picnic was excellent, but the setting was a major factor in the wonderfulness of the day. I adore the Getty Villa. It’s built in the style of an ancient Greek villa. Yes, please!

When I was in sixth grade we studied Greek & Roman Mythology for… in my memory, it was months and months of our history curriculum. There were definitely lots of art projects involved. I became a bit obsessed with the gods & goddesses. I read The Odyssey in 9th grade, and again in college. There’s something about the epic-ness of those stories. They’ve just stayed with me.

So it’s really cool to get to hang out in a place that’s all about Greek & Roman mythology, and also makes you feel like you took a time machine back to where it all started.

While we were walking around the Villa in a post-picnic semi-food coma, I noticed that there are a lot of food-elements to the space. Maybe that’s because a real Greek villa would have needed to grow its own food, and it also makes sense to have edible elements on the grounds, for snacking– grapes, pomegranates, etc.

Walking through the herb garden, we noted the gorgeous green basil. Lauren used basil in her bruschetta, and mused that she should grow some of her own. Life imitating lunch. (Our now-dwelling-in-NY friend, Pat– who we’re seeing tomorrow!– used to have basil growing in the window of his LA apartment.)

Yo, basil.

There were grapes growing around the big central pool. They must have been authentic ancient grapes, because I found some that had fallen, and they looked more like blueberries. As a modern person, I demand my Frankengrapes!

Hello, pretty sky.

One thing I love about the Villa is the cutouts in the walls. When I was in Rome, I was kind of obsessed with taking pictures through the cutouts in the ruins. And look what I spied, with my little eye…

When life hands you lemons...

Yep, more food! It’s uncanny, really.

And this ceiling might have been the ancient Greek version of The Daily Binge…

Around here there's a 75% chance of seeing grapes when you look up.

I’m a big fan of cornucopias. They’re basically hilariously shaped picnic baskets, no?

(At this point I went to Souplantation, and it’s PASSPORT TO GREECE month/week/time. Very appropriate!)

I doubt they had glass mason jars at picnics in Greece. They were less about shabby chic, more about GOBLETS.

Prodigious goblet, man.

I adore the colors in that mosaic. It’s part of a fountain that’s located in a little side garden. It seems as if every museum room at the Villa opens out into a beautiful outdoor space. That’s also attributable to the Greek villa design of the place, because back in ye olden days they didn’t have air conditioning. They had to harness the breezes!

The siren song (get it?) of these gardens kept pulling me out of the museum exhibit spaces. This one looked completely magical to me when I first glimpsed it from indoors. The bright light was such a stark difference between the darkened gallery and the sunlit slice of natural beauty. I couldn’t really capture the moment of discovery/revelation in a picture, but… eh, why not try?

The not-so-secret garden.

It’s such a nice palate cleanser to be able to step outside into the sunshine as you pass from one room to the next.

(Am I using food metaphors to describe the museum experience? I would, wouldn’t I?)

And as a former USC student– we love our fountains.

I had a total moment of Malcolm Gladwell fangirl geekout when I realized that this weird AVATAR-looking statue was a probably-forged kouros! (If you don’t know what I’m talking about, drop everything and read “Blink.” And then read “Outliers.” And the other one.)

... OR MODERN FORGERY?!

You don’t need to see a picture of the actual kouros that was standing there. It was not that interesting to me. (It’s in the Flickr album, if you must see it.)

So yeah, such a good day. This may be the most uninteresting post, word-smith wise, because it’s Friday night and I’m wiped. But once again I want to express my gratitude to Lauren and Cole for knowing exactly what would make me super happy, and actually putting it all into action.

And you even gave me a few ideas for my next birthday. On my 25th birthday, I definitely need to rock a castle hat.

The Burger King crown of antiquity.

(They’re actually city walls. Shhh. Nerd-who-reads-the-placards alert!)

Oh, and crazy enough, the Getty blog linked my first post (The Savories). That’s some beautiful cross-promotion. I have no idea how they found me, in this vast blogosphere. But I’m pumped. I highly recommend you visit the Getty Villa. It’s free, other than parking. You just have to make a reservation.

Castle hats for everybody!

xoxo…

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S’more Search: S’MORE CREPE (Crepe’n Around Truck)

September 3, 2010

Step on up!

Since I announced the Quest for the Best S’more in LA, I haven’t had any s’mores. That happened with my curly fry quest, too… and my guacamole quest. The moment I announce a quest, it dies out.

Today I finally took a step in the right questing direction by ordering a s’more crepe ($5) from Crepe’n Around. It’s not technically a real s’more, but it’s surprisingly hard to find s’mores in their classical form around here. Oh, LA.

I was totally intending to go whole-hog and order a savory crepe AND a dessert crepe, but luckily fate intervened and the savory crepe I planned on ordering (teriyaki flank steak) wasn’t on today’s menu. (And chicken pesto had mayo. Not in the mood to deal with that.) (And by “that” I mean, the guilt of eating mayo.)

The majority of savory orders were for the maple braised pork crepe, which the Yelpers raved about. But I didn’t feel like violating my lifelong dietary/religious whatevers today. (Yeah, I did it when the Dim Sum Truck was here, but that was just one bite of maybe-pork.)

I had the option of getting whipped cream IN the crepe, or on the side. Luckily I opted for on-the-side and got my whipped cream in a little plastic container, because it ended up being like heavy duty REAL whipped cream, which my fat free Cool Whip self can’t handle. It tasted sour to me. But like I said… I’m a rube.

First look.

You can see that they didn’t use marshmallow fluff… those are real, full-sized marshmallows. They were a little warm, but by no means melted. Interesting choice.

I thought it was funny/cool that the crepe looked like a pizza from the following angle. I also like the way it was wrapped. There was a cool little pocket thing going on. You can’t really see it in the picture, but trust me. (Or not.)

What ARE you? (Famous girlfriend-of-vampire question.)

My mom worked in Burger King when she was in high school. When I was a kid, my sisters and I thought that was the COOLEST JOB EVER, as in, why would you ever quit? If we asked really nicely, Mom would wrap our sandwiches in wax paper with the Burger King technique. I think that wrapper also had some paper-pocket action going on. This reminded me of that.

I tried to make a heart out of my crepe, but seeing as how I had already cut it down the center, it ended up looking creepy. I figured I’d show you, anyway. Cautionary tale.

Broken heart. (...Frankenstein?)

Maybe this goes back to my inappropriate antropomorphization of food, but I feel gross about some of these pictures. Like I literally cut open a naked body and took pictures of it, mad scientist/pornographer style.

I think something might be wrong with me.

But you knew that. Moving on.

Innards!

Although this picture would suggest that I ate my crepe like a savage, I actually cut dainty little forkfuls. I ate 2/3 or 3/4 of the crepe, then forced the rest upon co-worker Bryan. He’s a foodie, so I was glad to get the crepe out of my mouth’s path, and also to get his opinion. (He seemed to like the whipped cream, which is how I know that my problems with it were me-problems.)

We agreed upon the following points: 1) The marshmallows were a bit overwhelming. 2) There was a lack of the crunch factor that we’re used to in a s’more, since the graham cracker was in dust form.

I found the chocolate sauce-to-marshmallow ratio to be a bit off. Like, in each bite I wanted less marshmallow and more chocolate.

BUT overall it was still quite tasty, and the crepe wrapper itself was delightful. If this truck returns, I think I’ll go for a strawberry crepe. That sounded good today, too, but I s’mored it up FOR THE SAKE OF THE BLOG.

Don’t say I never did nothing for the peoples.

Marshmallows and chocolate sauce!

xoxo…

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Does It Get Any Better Than BREAD SOUP?

September 3, 2010

Bread soup brings all the Elysse to the yard.

(The reflection on the side of the bowl looks like a big smile. Coincidence? I think NOT.)

Every time I go to Tender Greens, I waffle over whether or not to try the roasted Roma tomato bread soup. I mean, I definitely know I WANT to try it. Tomatoes, soup, bread? Check, check, check– sounds amazing. I’m just like, do I really NEED to add a big soup to my big salad order?

On Wednesday night I finally WENT FOR IT. Man oh man, was that a good call. The soup was a really nice consistency and was super-delicious and tomato-y. And there were plenty of chunks of bread within, perfectly saturated. Not too soggy. Just soggy enough, in a French onion-esque way.

If I ruled the world, every soup would be bread soup. (I generally DO dip bread or crackers into my broths.)

The green stuff on the top is… basil oil? Some sort of oil. At first I wanted to remove the oil, but I didn’t have anywhere to put it. So I became one with the oil. Er, it became one with me, because it went into my stomach.

Wanna see the bread? I don’t care what you want, I’m going to show it to you anyway.

From the depths of my soup...

I tried to get Bea to share the soup, but she pretty much left it to me. (As she did with the sweet tea, later that night.) What an enabler! Haha. But she agreed that it was delicious. (And I was a jerk, because I ate all the bread before I let her have a taste.)

It’s a good thing the soup was awesome, because my Chipotle BBQ Chicken salad was not nearly as good as it was last time.

You've changed. I don't know if I can trust you anymore.

Speaking of salads, another round of Souplantation is scheduled for tonight. They’re following me (the real me) on Twitter, as of this morning. And tweeting at me. That’s when you know… you’re a Souplantation addict.

I’ll tweet the lemon cupcake separately, because this post is focused on BREAD SOUP. (And has enough pictures already.)

Since autumn weather is seemingly upon us, I’m guessing that I’ll be having this delight again soon. With a small salad, because this soup shouldn’t be put in a corner. It’s the STAR.

xoxo…

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Snack Trek: GETTY VILLA PICNIC- The Sweets

September 1, 2010

Dessert, anyone?

After much ado! Here is the second installment (of three) of the Getty Villa birthday picnic surprise series. I don’t THINK I have many words to add here, because the desserts speak for themselves… but I always tend to say that before typing out a giant paragraph. So we’ll see what strikes me. (As usual– click on the pictures to see them BIGGER.)

And major props to the Picnik editing tools (which I use through Flickr), without which many of these pictures would have been a lot less pretty. Maybe I went a little overboard with the editing. Or maybe it’s too subtle. Maybe I went underboard. (I can’t tell!)

I GRAPPLED for days over which cupcake picture to use. (I always GRAPPLE over the smallest, silliest decisions, and make the big ones in a snap. Weird.) Of course, you’ll never know what you’re missing. (Well– you can check out the rest in my Getty Picnic Flickr set.)

Up close & personal.

Seriously, it’s NUTS how much cake has been in my life this past month or so. My stomach has been a little off lately, and I’m wondering if I AM allergic to wheat, after all. It would be kind of appropriate if I unwittingly spent the month before a cake-less life binging on cake. Going out with a bang.

At least I could look back at the blog and see all my cake pictures and memories, and take heart in the fact that most of the cakes didn’t necessarily taste as amazing as they looked. (Though I always try to be kind on the blog.) (But for real, Sprinkles is UP THERE. Never a dry cupcake in the batch.)

As if this picnic wasn’t enough of a present, Lauren crafted a special set of stationery just for me (I have such a big ego now!), along with the AWESOME personalized heart pillow. (With a name like mine, I didn’t exactly grow up being able to get those name-stickers off the rack.) Not only does she know my favorite snacks, but she knows my favorite colors/images.

Raindrops on roses and ketchup in bottles...

Note that the cupcake on the card has a little flag in it– just like the flags in the cupcakes at the picnic. (NICE!)

Lauren also gave me this adorable card, which she picked up at LA’s Renegade Craft Fair. (I couldn’t go because I had improv class. So LA!)

Does this mean that LA people HAVE hearts?

As you can see, I had a lot of fun using the flags and the pillow as photo-shoot props.

Another red velvet identity crisis in the making.

In that photo the flag looks like it’s staking a claim. In the next, it looks like a sign of surrender.

We give up!

Word on the street (aka Lauren’s blog) is that she’s going to post a little DIY tutorial that will show you how to make those flags. (That link in the parentheses will take you to HER post about the picnic. She managed to do it all in ONE post, because she’s good at things.)

I got a little goofy with the macarons. This looks like a face, to me. (Though I think I intended for it to be double hearts.)

Looking weird, Face.

I also wanted to show you WHAT’S INSIDE a macaron. (Delicious cream stuff.) (Lauren was right– in the case of these Trader Joe’s macarons, the vanilla ones are better. Even the consistency of the cookie part of the vanilla seemed better– less dense/chewy. Must be the different ingredients that go into the different flavors.) (But the chocolate were still good. Just not AS good.)

Obviously I was feeling the love for the macarons. Another attempt at the double hearts…

This is getting creepy.

Some of my friends are still confused as to who RUNS this blog that I’m always promoting on my Facebook. If all these Elysse-name photos don’t answer that question, I don’t know what will.

Maybe the Getty Villa was my muse, silently inspiring the double hearts, because later I stumbled across this detail on a mosaic/fountain.

Is this garish? I want it in my bathroom.

Not sure what those double hearts are flanking, but it just might be an Ancient Greek version of a French macaron. (And by “just might be” I mean “definitely isn’t.”)

This picture is one of my favorites of the day. It looks quite editorial. (Somehow I even managed to avoid including the background-napkin-trash.) If you replace the Elysse with “Oprah,” this publisher-ready. (Probably not.)

My moment of zen.

I like to think of the areas of soft focus as an artistic choice, rather than not-amazing-quality camera issues.

Also, I chose to feature the cinnamon cupcake from Sprinkles because I’m a little bit obsessed. Not only is it the cupcake version of a Snickerdoodle (MUCH LOVE), but it’s a FROSTINGLESS cupcake. As you know, I’m a little queasy about frosting. So… sign me up. Double hearts for cinnamon sugar.

(I’m totally that girl in the romantic comedy who THOUGHT she loved red velvet, but over time she realized that he was all looks and flash and not as tasty as everybody made him out to be. Meanwhile, nice-guy cinnamon was there all along, ready to love her– but she took a long time to get over her initial prejudices about him, because some cinnamon-flavored things, like gum, are gross-ish.) (OMG, life-imitating-food preferences.)

The Getty Villa is a modern-day replica of a villa in Ancient Greece. Of course, the REAL villas back in Greece are in ruins by now. And here are the ruins of our picnic. (Food-imitating-Greece.)

We done good.

The more I type “Greece,” the less it seems like a real word.

You maybe be wondering what became of those surviving cupcakes. We put everything back in the car before we explored the Villa. Later that night, post-Spitz, I took a few pictures of the cupcakes with my birthday cake-plate.

Birthday presents on birthday presents!

And then we ate them. Two girls, three cupcakes. Nice work. (Cole bowed out pre-Spitz, or I’m sure he would have helped.)

Once again: Thanks to Lauren and Cole! Amazing desserts! Can’t wait to eat more desserts with you. There are so many out there. Never a shortage.

Coming soon: The final installment– “The Villa.” As much as it’s nice to post a blog entry and be done with it, I’ll be sad to put this experience to bed. But luckily the memories will stay here, and I can visit them. A la the Getty Villa. (Food blog-imitating-museum.)

xoxo…

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Snack [Trek] of the Afternoon, 8/31/10: COOLHAUS TRUCK

August 31, 2010

Are the walls blocking the truck, or making this pic artsy?

Okay, the Coolhaus truck was here. I met the unicorn. (It even has a horn? Or a cool pink protrusion?) Some say that you should never meet your unicorns, for they will always disappoint you. I wasn’t disappointed, per se, but conditions were not ideal. (Starting with my Oregon Trail-style drinking-of-bad-water at 7:15am.)

One very cool thing about the truck is the use of decorative magnets to post both the day’s menu and pictures of famous architects. (Another cool thing is the story of the founders. It’s on the site.)

I was saddened by the lack of "dirty mint chip" today-- whatever that means.

I remember this name from my years of being an architecture student’s roommate. (Also: Corbusier.)

Koolhaas on Coolhaus.

My original dream order, based on the website, was one snickerdoodle cookie and one ginger cookie, with dirty mint chip. (I don’t know what makes it dirty, but I wanted to find out!)

Unfortunately life doesn’t always hand us dirty mint chip. By the time I got to the truck, pickings were slim. I ended up getting one snickerdoodle cookie and one chocolate chip cookie, with carrot cake ice cream. And I got co-worker Daphne her alternate: chocolate chip cookies with peanut butter. Here’s an architecturally unsound shot. (My hands are small!)

Double decker!

If you look in the bottom left corner of that picture, my cardigan kind of blends with the carpet and it looks like my hand is floating in space. I’m Thing from “The Addams Family!” (That’s why you never see my face.) (Also… that’s why my flavor descriptions are limited. I have no mouth!)

I’m sorry, these pictures are kind of blurry and sucky. I’ve been holding myself to a higher standard lately. But sometimes life doesn’t hand you super-clear pictures OR dirty mint chip. You still gotta post SOMETHING.

Eat this ad.

The ice cream sandwiches are wrapped in edible paper, which is apparently made of potato starch… something like that. I was hoping it would be made of sugar. I ate some just for the heck of it, but it tasted like… actual paper, only a bit more melt-in-your-mouth. Not my new favorite snack or anything. But interesting.

And of course the paper had an ad on it. They should print fake government secrets. Eat after reading!

My mistake was that I actually ate the big chunk of carrot cake that was in my carrot cake ice cream. I felt a little stomach-unhappy after that. (Also– Cake mixed in with ice cream, served on a cookie? Really, Elysse?) (At least there were real carrot-pieces. Vegetable to the rescue!)

Here’s a very noir shot of that situation…

Triple dessert threat.

Looks like I was eating it in jail. I ought to be locked up, for this behavior.

Actually, I put the whole thing in a bowl and ate it very conventionally. I like to try everything separately, together, etc etc. The snickerdoodle was not quite as soft as I like my cookies (though I was happy to have a reason not to eat the whole thing– especially since I ate more carrot cake than I’d bargained for), but the chocolate chip cookie was just right.

Playing with my food./Demolition.

So I had a kinda mixed experience due to multiple factors (I was also in a MOOD because I’m trying a new hair product and it gave me a BAD HAIR DAY), but I’m definitely open to revisiting this truck.

Hopefully next time they have the dirty mint chip! Or the red velvet ice cream– if it’s anything like carrot cake, I’m guessing it’s red velvet cake smooshed into vanilla ice cream. Color me intrigued. (Even though the red velvet identity crisis rages on, especially after eating a red velvet from SPRINKLES on Saturday and not feeling true love for it.) (My heart belonged to cinnamon? Never thought I’d say THAT.) (Although… I DID choose a snickerdoodle today. I feel another identity crisis coming on!)

Next time, I hope to go with Lauren! I know she’ll delight in the architect magnets… and the desserts.

xoxo…

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Snack Trek: GETTY VILLA PICNIC- The Savories

August 31, 2010

A-picnicking we go!

Saturday’s birthday surprise excursion picnic was so epic that posting all of the pictures in one post would prove… unwieldy. (And I should know– I’m the queen of too-long posts.) I decided to split the experience into three posts– The Savories, The Sweets, and The Villa. (As you’ll see, the villa has a few built-in snacks of its own.)

This post is The Savories. Not actually sure if everything here counts as an official Savory Food, but this post is dedicated to everything that happened pre-dessert.

The whole drive, I kept revising my guesses as we passed through different neighborhoods. Cole had hinted that we’d be going to Little Tokyo, but as soon as we set out I knew that wasn’t the case. Hollywood? Nope, we passed it. Beverly Hills? Nope, we turned and got on the freeway. The Museum of Tolerance? (Haha.) Nope, kept going on the 10 West. Venice? Nope, headed to the PCH. Zuma Beach? Nope. When I finally guessed the Getty Villa, we were really close to it. And I was REALLY excited.

And when I found out that we were having a picnic, I was DOUBLE excited. I haven’t been on a picnic… since I was a kid? And I LOVE picnics. I don’t even know if Lauren knew how much I love picnics! (I’m just too uncool to ever pull one together… that’s what friends are for.)

I’m violating my no-faces rule because these pictures of Lauren and Cole are so adorable. Between that first picture and us actually locating the picnic area, I (the only one not lugging stuff– thanks guys!) doubled back to find a map, and it turns out that doubling back is not easy at the Getty Villa. It’s a labyrinth! (I should have sprinkled cupcake crumbs to guide my way.)

When we found the picnic area, it was lovely. Reminded me of a rest area at a (very manicured) national park. Some other group was singing happy birthday (to somebody else), and we joked that they were part of the surprise.

Mischief managed!

I’m a lazy butt and would have brought plasticware and party cups, but of course Lauren went all out with real silverware, Mason jars for cups, and IBC root beer in glass bottles. Aesthetically pleasing! (And Lauren must be strong! Wow.)

Drink me.

You can see in that picture that Lauren brought sliced cantaloupe and kettle corn. She also brought all manner of delicious carbs…

Eat me.

I was having some problems camera/exposure-wise, with the light/shade. But I think that picture is the worst of them.

Lauren MADE bruschetta (SKILLZ) and brought Sabra hummus and some sort of dip that involved pesto and sun-dried tomatoes, so I started out with a plate of what I am referring to here as “savories.”

So much tomato/basil tastebud love on one plate.

Not only was the bruschetta super fresh and restaurant-quality tasty, but Lauren made it TO TASTE. Like, no set amount of ingredients. I didn’t ask her if she learned that while studying abroad in Italy. Will I gain that type of knowledge if I move there? (Lauren last lived with me two years ago, and I still have some of her recipes up on the fridge… but I’ve never cooked them. I’m not worthy.)

My second plate contained a melon/kettle corn/Australian licorice medley…

What a team.

Lauren selected the cantaloupe using some sort of smell test that I’ve never heard of before. Smelling its belly button? (Does a melon have a belly?) I was taught to shake melons and listen for the seeds, but I can never tell if I’m hearing the seeds or just… general swishing.

Whatever she did, it worked.

As much as I was stuffing myself with all my snacky favorites, I knew that dessert was on the horizon. (And Spitz was on the horizon’s horizon.)

Here’s a sneak preview of The Sweets. Of course, Lauren and Cole brought BOTH of my favorites: Cupcakes AND French macarons. (Apparently French macarons are the new cupcakes? Fingers crossed!) (And my spell check still wants me to call them macaroons, so you might see me cave sometimes and spell it that way.)

Cole went all-out and brought Sprinkles cupcakes, from Beverly Hills.

I love that colorful chart.

The chart is probably too small to read on the blog, but a perfect day to go to Sprinkles (for ME) would be a Friday, because that’s the only day they have chai latte, and they also have pumpkin (!). Although on a Thursday you could try carrot and mocha.

But no regrets. There is so much pumpkin in my near future. Fall is coming. (Apparently pumpkin spice lattes are back today at Starbucks.)

Oh, sorry to digress about Sprinkles/pumpkin-y-ness. The macarons were from Trader Joe’s. Not to SPOILER ALERT, but for a frozen-section treat they were surprisingly light and fresh.

These macarons are pawns in a board game?

Ooh, I feel an idea coming on: a pumpkin pie flavored MACARON. I bet they already exist, since ketchup-flavored macarons are out there. (Thanks for the link, Allison!) (Maybe no thanks? Maybe barfs?) As much as I love ketchup, I have my limits. I feel queasy just thinking about ketchup macarons. Desserts and ketchup… not so much. I won’t knock ‘em ’til I’ve tried them, but… I don’t know if I’d want to try them.

Theoretically the next post in this series should be “The Sweets,” but I already have the pictures for “The Villa” prepped and ready. (I can’t choose between dessert pics! As if it matters that much!) So we’ll see what pops up next. The suspense is (probably not) killing you.

On Passover we say “dayenu,” meaning “it would have been enough.” Saturday was a total Dayenu situation. The goodness just kept coming, when any one thing would have already delighted me so much! Hopefully these posts are a Dayenu for you, too. I’m trying to avoid making them into a big long draggy Seder.

Okay, Jew analogies aside– To Be Continued…

xoxo…

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Snack Trek: DONER KEBABS & SWEET POTATO FRIES @ SPITZ (!!!)

August 30, 2010

Reunited and it feels so good.

I’m still overwhelmed by picnic pics (and I edit them in a program called Picnik, very appropriate), so I’m going to start with the Spitz post. I can’t choose between these pictures, either, but there are few enough that I can just slap them all up.

There are so many different variations of kabobs/kebabs/kebaps out there. I’m spelling it the way Spitz spells it, for this post. When in Rome…

Perfect segue, because Lauren became infatuated with doner kebab while she was studying abroad in Italy. When she returned, she searched LA for doner kebabs. You would think that would be an easy search, but LA is not as street-carty as Europe, or even New York. Eventually Lauren discovered Spitz, which at the time had only one small location, in Eagle Rock.

We waited ever-so-patiently for the Little Tokyo location to finally finally open, and it was worth the wait– closer to our apartment, hipper, more seating, Yogurtland and Pinkberry adjacent. (The other night there was a DJ spinning some great ambiance music– not too loud for conversation to flow.)

So Spitz became a thing that Lauren and I would do. And it’s just not the same to eat there without her. So I generally don’t. What was once our special roomie place is now our special former-roomie reunion place.

Reuniting with Spitz and Lauren is like… hmm, how can I analogize this? Like birds of a feather, flocking together? Like kingdoms joining forces? Like two asteroids colliding?

Whatever it is, it involves years of friendship and a whole lot of deliciousness. And a dash of spice, if I forget to ask for no chili sauce (but I can take it!).

Lauren and I both got the chicken doner kebab plate with sweet potato fries. She got sandwich-style, on focaccia bread (apparently that’s European style), and I got mine in a lavash wrap (Mediterranean style, as pictured at the top). Here’s Lauren’s:

Dear Lauren, Thank you for allowing me to cockblock your food and take pictures of it.

And just to show you the grilly goodness of my wrap once it’s un-foiled (is that the inspiration for the word “unfurled”? I’m guessing no…), here’s another picture of it.

The meat is flat!

As I mentioned in the caption, the meat is flat. Ingenious, for a wrap. Well played!

And here is a picture of my wrap where it appears to be photobombing the rest of my dinner. And it looks like a good-natured shark!

PHOTOBOMB!

And of course I have to spend a moment or two discussing the sweet potato fries. It sounds crazy, but I wish more of my fries had been soggy. I love soggy fries, and mildly soggy cereal. I think soggy fries are a sign of cardiac-arresting levels of greasiness (or oldness?), but the heart wants what the heart wants. (Even if what it wants is going to make it break, as in stop working?)

BUT whatever, my complaint is strange. I love these fries because they really taste like sweet potatoes, but not in an undercooked way. There are sweet potato fries that taste like regular fries, and there are sweet potato fries that just taste like chopped up, heated sweet potatoes. The sweet potato fries at Spitz contain the perfect blend of sweet potato essence and fry-ness.

Snack attack!

I actually took that picture for a potential future header, because I never like any of the sweet potato fry pics on Google images.

Spitz parcels out its ketchup in the typical Heinz packets, and I always manage to go through a very large handful. Looks like this ketchup just lost a war. I titled this picture “Ketchup Victims” on my Flickr.

Why must the good die young?

Speaking of heart attacks, I try to avoid the dip that comes with the fries, as it probably consists mainly of mayonnaise. (I was using the lid and the foil for the ketchup because it always seeps through napkins.)

Lauren knows all too well of my ketchup-slaughtering ways, and in fact earlier in the day she had given me a set of personalized note cards featuring pictures of some of my favorite things, including the incredibly apt “I [heart] ketchup.” (Before I opened it, I thought the ketchup bottle was booze.)

She knows me too well...

That’s when you know you have a ketchup problem. The next surprise I get from Lauren and Cole just might be a ketchup intervention.

As much as I love the Spitz take on the kebab, my heart yearns to find an LA version of what I had in Israel (I think that would be called falafel/pita/shawerma). They put French fries in the pita! If anybody knows about a place like that… please let me know. There is room in my heart for EVERY type of kebab.

Love and ketchup!

xoxo…

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Snack Trek: SOUPLANTATION!!!

August 28, 2010

There's no such thing as too much salad!

Cole and I love love love to go to Souplantation, known as Sweet Tomatoes on the East Coast. (Is it heart-y because we love it, or do we love it because it’s heart-y?) It’s a great deal by LA food-price standards– about $10 for everything from salad to dessert. (And that happens to be what I took pictures of when we went last night.)

The clientele in Souplantation can be a bit strange (we once saw a whole family BLINGED out– from baby to grandma), so you never have to worry when you gossip about Hollywood people. They aren’t there! Cole and I were really excited when we read that Janeane Garofalo and Kathy Griffin used to eat together at Souplantation before they were famous. Although we eat at this lowish brow establishment, we just might be destined for greatness, too.

The cookies in the dessert area are really good, but they’re not always there. I try to check there first and grab a plateful, just in case they disappear by dessert time.

If this isn’t proof that maybe I should be a food stylist, I don’t know what is:

American as whatever-this-is.

That’s chocolate lava cake, vanilla frozen yogurt, peanuts, a cookie, and AMERICAN sprinkles. So patriotic right now. (Wrong month?)

Okay, gotta get to get ready for this secret excursion. I know now that I should wear sunscreen, and that an eating opportunity will occur at 2pm. (Lauren texted me: “We will not let you go hungry!!”)

Some other time I will have to dedicate a post to the soups of Souplantation. I have a childhood attachment to the big-noodled Chicken Noodle, but I generally eat half-bowls of every soup that sounds delicious.

Sometimes I think this blog should just be a subsidiary of This is Why You’re Fat.

Until we snack again!

xoxo…

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Bun Wars: Battle of the Bun (Phamish/Tao Truck)

August 28, 2010

Aiiiiieee!!!

Okay, crazy title and fighting kittens picture aside, this entry is just going to be pictures of bun, because I was lucky enough to have bun twice within the past week or so.

Bun is a Vietnamese noodle dish. I believe it’s pronounced “BOON.”

Whenever my family goes out for Vietnamese food, my dad always orders. I prep him to say pho as “FUH” and bun as “BOON,” but somehow he always ends up saying “FAUX” and “BUN.” You might call that a… PHO pas! (Get it? Get it?) (I just used it wrong.)

First up, last Thursday I had the tough decision between having Phamish‘s banh mi sandwich (again), or trying the bun. (They’re not selling pho right now… it’s too hot out or something.) You already know what I chose, or this wouldn’t be a BUN WAR.

Lemongrass Chicken Bun from Phamish.

The lemongrass chicken was delectable (same chicken from the banh mi), and to my delight I crossed paths with daikon once again. (The daikon is the white veggie on the left that looks like noodles… the actual rice noodles are under the chicken.) I probably could have stopped after I ate half, but I ended up finishing it, because… deliciousness.

The noodles were bigger than I expected– I’m used to vermicelli in bun, but these were spaghetti sized. My opinion on noodles is usually the thinner the better. (But don’t go getting all anorexic on me, noodles!) BUT in this case… size didn’t matter. I really enjoyed them.

The biggest key to success was the inclusion of the fish sauce. It really makes a bun a bun, and adds a lot of flavor/moisture.

Okay, on to the Tao Truck. (That’s not the link to the official site, because Google warns me that it’s virus-y.) After the delight of Phamish, I was craving bun again. Lo and behold– yesterday the Tao Truck rolled around, offering more Vietnamese lunchiness.

Tao Truck's bun steps up to the plate.

I was immediately excited to see thinner noodles, and disappointed by the lack of a fish sauce container. But as it turned out, the noodles seemed undercooked, and were quite dry. The chicken was… not as delicious. And the salad was more generic, less complex. One of my coworkers– who hadn’t even had the Phamish bun– expressed great disappointment in the overall package.

I forged on and ate it, but had enough left to take this delightful bowl-of-crazy-noodles picture at the end. (Usually once I start eating, I forget to take any more pictures because I’m like… foooood.)

Noodling around.

Let’s hear it for the winner (and still champion): Phamish. (One friend who saw both bun pics described Phamish’s as looking “heartier,” and that’s apt.) (Also, hearty on paper looks like it means, full of hearts. Like maybe, more worthy of love? Heart heart heart. I’m such a girl.)

If they come around again, I will have a very hard time choosing between the bun and the banh mi. But I won’t get both, because that’s too gluttonous. Even for this kid.

Snack ya later.

xoxo…

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