Bites and Bolts

One of my favorite coffeeshops(that you will never find me in, don’t let’s be creepy), Cafe Balcony, is being forced into coffeeshop purgatory starting tomorrow, Saturday, February 28th at midnight. Short story, the building was sold and their lease was not renewed. Long story and updates, here.

This prompted me to dig up some photos I took of the place shortly after noon last July. Thanks for the memories…

The good news is that this is a temporary situation, as the owner plans to open up a new location in the area as soon as possible(which realistically may take several months). The bad news is that for those of us who love the Balcony, we’ll be “homeless” for a bit.

So for the love of all things siphon, go visit tomorrow before midnight because it’s your last chance to attempt futile residential parking and cram yourself next to some stranger at the bar. *tear*

 

And now, the chilling finale to my Santa Monica Seafood saga. Dun-dun-dun!

To a blogger, internet capabilities are as important as a working faucet/Brita filter/gin and tonic is to proper hydration. Imagine my surprise(rather, feigned surprise as I have Time Warner cable) when come Wednesday, the day of my promised continuation of SM Seafood coverage, I was a victim of an interwebz fail. Little did I know that it would progress into epic proportions as the downtime dragged on through Saturday night hogtying my writing ambition with it.

Here I was subjected to WiFi coffeehouses where I attempted to strangle my focus back from neighboring conversations about the lucky number 8 and it’s possible effects on karma and your life. Oh wait, that’s right now. For some crazy wild reason, I *think* I get more done outside of my house.

Monday night last week I kidnapped a cohort to Santa Monica to partake in more seafood ingestion. First, I tried the oysters. Mind you, I’m not an “oyster” person. I am not a master of the scrape and suck. However, I felt it pure blasphemy to be once again seated at an oyster bar as all the main dining tables were taken and NOT eat oysters. As I was poised to take a Fatal Frame shot of my meal, I realized that my battery was 100% drained. Thank God for friends with Nokia N95s. I quickly made a Malpeque oyster my latest esophageal victim. It was “the yum”.

My dining companion chose to partake in the New England Clam Chowder which was slopped up into a mug as mine earlier sans saucer, but with two bonus packs of oyster crackers. Score.

I was drooling over a mental picture of the salmon crudo all afternoon and ordered it up with glee. It arrived looking just as good as expected, topped with thinly sliced shallots and juicy shreds of ruby grapefruit. Yes, it’s raw. Mmmff. And it was so very soft and delicious, the tart citrus complementing the supple flesh in a way that could only end in mouth melting perfection.

My friend evidently couldn’t get enough of the salmon and went for the cooked salmon(totally not the correct name-where’s my togo menu?) which was excellently prepared with a touch of pink flesh full of juicy goodness permeating the center filet.

And of course, I ordered the cioppino. This was some damn good cioppino which I was hoping it would be after about a 45 minute wait for my dish. The stew base had some serious “BAM!” going on which I happily soaked up with my accompanying grilled ciabatta slice. A variety of seastuffs(clams, mussels, fish) and several huge shrimp were crammed into the shallow bowl, all cooked to a point of easy separation from their exoskeleton. I love cioppino, but I don’t love wearing it. Thank you SM Seafood for making a delicious cioppino that I can eat like a lady.

Oh yeah, the SM Seafood staff were seriously backed up and frazzled by the end of the night. I’m actually even more happy that we ended up being seated at the bar again, as our bartender/server Mike handled the roller coaster of a night like a champ. Not only was he responsible for all bartending duties for the rest of the restaurant, he was assisting at the oyster bar, tracking down my very tardy order, and still maintaining a surprising amount of composure come 9pm. Even though our meal took about an hour and a half, it was seriously worth it, although I wouldn’t mind if the next time I go takes considerable less to eat.

If I had any friends, I would have called them today to go to this: the grand (re)opening of Santa Monica Seafood. Being a socially awkward, fat and friendless foodiast(new word!), I went by myself to eat alongside other lonely food geeks.

Santa Monica Seafood Company has been in existence since 1939. That sounds nice to me being of the generation who likes things to be new and flashy yet also have an established history. Regardless of people’s decisions to come here today(personally, I would have stayed far away but food makes me do crazy things), all ages were solidly represented. And if the mature gentleman next to me was any indication, chances are a good amount of people already shopped at Santa Monica Seafood for fresh fish and were pleasantly surprised by how good the cioppino was in the cafe.

The inside would be spacious if there weren’t so many fish fiends swimming about, complete with a tiny wine and cheese selection, various spendy sauces, Valrhona chocolate bars, and gourmet stuffs. Screw all that, I was there for sea creatures. The horseshoe shaped seafood counter was chock full of them, everything from rock lobster to stingrays to narwhals. Okay, kidding about the narwhals, but there were plenty of colorful plump filets and shellfish.

Since I already submitted my non-refundable quarter to the LA meter maids, I decided to stick out the wait with a the ravenous grumpy line of pre-menstrual customers for a seat. And since today was opening day the managers were working, taking names in a somewhat orderly fashion. I was pleased to take a pedestal at the snowy marble oyster bar in an effort to discourage mad-dogging as a result of occupying a 2-seat table.

The mother-daughter duo to my right was quite pleasant, perhaps because I caught up with them post-meal(and post-wine for that matter). I had my heart set on some Scottish salmon, but was easily persuaded to try out the tuna melt by a fellow New Jerseyan. And I couldn’t pass up the New England clam chowder because I hear all that dairy is good for bone health. And fat cells.

The chowder was delivered in a large pristine mug, a good amount for a $3 cup. No crackers here, but the bar was adorned with glass bud vases full of tall crunchy breadsticks that made due when broken into 1 inch cylinders. For a chowder on opening day it was rather good–just about the right consistency and richness. The base was a little more bland than I prefer with a bit many chopped celery pieces and a bit too few clam pieces. Small diced potatoes and cilantro livened it up a bit, but I would have preferred some fresh cracked black pepper and of course, some bacon. Alas, there was none.

I spent the 30 minutes waiting for my lost tuna melt sandwich to drool over other patrons food and slapping my hand from trying to take pictures of other people’s food. Being a plain wallflower I found pleasure in lending my ear to my neighbor’s stories about visiting Italy for luggage design inspiration, servicing their Mercedes Benz, and the best places for oysters in San Francisco.

At last my meal arrived with a heartfelt apology and a wave of oohs and aahs from the oyster bar. I dug right in(after taking pictures, silly). My mouth met with an unfamiliar taste of fresh tuna. I enjoyed canned tuna velveeta melts in the toaster oven for years as a child, but this wasn’t anything like that. It was like the first time tasting crisp green beans that weren’t dreadfully boiled to a withering olive color.

Sandwiched between 2 crisp pieces of puckery sourdough was a delightful mix of white tuna speckled with mild spices. The upper deck was smothered in creamy melted cheese oozing ever so gently out of the sides like ivory lava. Below the tuna thinly sliced tomatoes bravely suffocated held firmly in place against the bread. Accompanying the sandwich was a pile of lovely green mesclun, gently flavored with tart lemon juice, a whisper of olive oil and a dusting of fleur de sel.

I decided to practice portion control although I could have stuffed my face with the whole thing and took the other half home. Besides, my 40-minute meter was running out for the second time and all my neighbors had been rotated out at least twice. Despite the crowded conditions and the extended wait times for food, I would definitely come here again. Like tonight. That cioppino looked mighty tasty.

 

Today marks the 3rd week of my diet(for the rest of my life). Every Wednesday is my weigh-in day and as such I’m starting a new segment to document my journey and hopefully pass along some useful info. It’s exciting and stressful at the same time, seeing if a week’s worth of work paid off. This week it didn’t-at least in numbers. I had been consistently losing a pound or so every week, until today. I’m hoping that it’s my increased exercise which is building muscle, but either way it’s disappointing.

Let’s talk a little about how this new lifestyle change took place. In short, I let some obstacles take center stage for too long. I mentioned previously that a series of events led me to start neglecting my health. Little things started adding up fast: cutting down gym trips after an injury, eating more with family, losing my job, and starting foodblogging were the main culprits. Basically, it was my lack of discipline that led to changes in my eating and fitness habits which led me here.

I suppose I’m lucky that I stopped myself here and didn’t wait until I had to cut off my pant tops and sew in elastic bands. I’ve always had a tortoise metabolism and my love of computers and reading as a child probably didn’t help foster any appreciation for long distance running or weight training.

I’ll be honest, the first 48 hours sucked. Hard core. Food is sort of addiction for me, no doubt. There are certain foods that trigger emotions and also comfort foods I seek when I’m distraught. In those first 2 days, I was incredibly hungry and cranky. It was similar to the times I weened myself off daily coffee consumption or sugar(screw you, Atkins!) in the chemical malaise, but also worse because I had to wait patiently for my stomach to shrink while it screamed for more food.

Now realizing that there’s no way to cheat the body(at least naturally), I know that a weekly weigh-in is the only way to keep me aware of what my weight is and to catch any variances before it starts adding up. I’m not about to get all crazy and start posting photos of myself online as some sort of documentary. But as a way to keep me in check, yes, I am holding myself publicly accountable and like my math teacher always says, “A little shame never hurt anyone”.

The 3 main areas that I know I have a lot to work on are:

1. Eating when I’m not hungry

• While watching movies
• When a friend/family offers food(thankfully I don’t have to worry about those birthday cakes at the office right now)

2. Exercising daily

• Getting in a routine so I have time to work out
• Finding good places to exercise(can’t afford a gym membership)
• Learning new exercises so I don’t get bored
• Building muscle(I want to be able to lift Honda trannies!)

3. Choosing better foods

• Eating whole grains instead of white bread, rice, and noodles
• More veggies!
• Drinking more water

If you have any insight, feel free to pass it along as I can use all the help you can give right now. And with that, I leave you Crying, While Eating.

Absinthe sure is getting a lot of attention these days. Mention that you drink absinthe, or throw around words like “louche” and “thujone” and suddenly people get all excited. Absinthe definitely still has a stigma as being a forbidden spirit in SoCal, and frankly, the drink’s hype is old like so many shots of Britney Spears’ patootie.

If you want to get high, go smoke some hash. While I have been known to get a headache drinking more than 1 glass, it’s certainly nothing pleasant-more like, where-the-heck-is-my-inhaler, I-have-a-massive-hangover type feel. That said, if you’re curious about it by all means please try it-just don’t go on drinking it only for the cool appeal and turn into a louche douche.

The first absinthe I tried was from Lucid as I found a good deal on a gift set before Christmas. It included 2 pontarlier(reservoir) glasses, a spoon, and a 750ml bottle of the green juice. If you’ve ever had pastis, absinthe will taste strikingly similar. Lucid is no exception, as a pale yellow verte style selection. It reeks of anise even sitting on a table a few feet away.

A word about preparation: I keep a bottled water in the fridge for a few hours before to get nice and chilled and throw it in the freezer for about 30 minutes prior to pouring. Yeah, I’m not so much of a fanatic that I need to buy a spiffy looking spigot contraption.

The traditional drink assembly goes like this: pour a shot or two of absinthe in a pontarlier glass(in general it should hit or be just below the bulb of the glass). Place the spoon atop the glass and center a sugar cube on it. Slowly drip ice water drop by drop onto the sugar cube using as little water as possible to melt it. After the sugar cube has dissolved, add more water to dilute the drink between about a 3:1 to 5:1 ratio. Enjoy!

I’ve had absinthe prepared bohemian style with a burning cube, however I prefer the traditional preparation method as the bohemian style is really all flash and mirrors. The assembly is much the same, although instead of pouring the absinthe in the glass prior to placing the sugar cube on top of the spoon, the glass is left empty and absinthe is poured over the sugar cube. The sugar cube is then lit on fire and once the flame dies, water is poured on in the same manner as the traditional method.

So let’s recap:

1. Don’t drink absinthe in anticipation of whacking your ear off

2. You must like anise to enjoy it

3. Stick with the traditional preparation method for the best results

Has all this talk of absinthe piqued your interest? Read up on the spirit from people who are green-fairy fanatics at The Wormwood Society.

 

It seems to me there are 3 typical groups of food enthusiasts: those who are born with the metabolism of a hummingbird, those who work out and moderate their food intake, and those who just don’t give a damn.

Being somewhat of a mix of the latter 2 groups, I’ve put on a few more pounds than I’d care to have over the last couple years. Not surprisingly, my weight gain had a direct correlation to (no shit), injuring my back at work thereby disrupting my gym routine, having a death in the family, getting laid off, and joining Yelp in the same year. Ultimately, taking care of myself was moved to a slow-simmering backburner of my life.

Totally non-related to the new year, I decided I had enough. No scratch that, I decided to get off my fat arse and actually DO something about having enough. I’ve started to seriously track what I’m eating, reduce my alcohol intake, and be more active. So when I was sent a box of Quaker New Delights Granola to sample, I was psyched. Seriously. I had been eating granola bars as dinner on breaks between my Intermediate Algebra night courses.

Apparently, these babies are new to stores beginning this month, and what’s more important to me, they have natural ingredients and a moderate amount of calories. I decided to switch things up a bit from my normal dry granola yogurt topping. The result was a slightly sticky, faintly tart addition that enhanced the texture and imparted the subtle sweetness I was hoping for.

So far Quaker has 3 flavors, Dark Chocolate Raspberry Almond(pictured), Toasted Coconut Banana Macadamia Nut, and Honey Roasted Cashew Mixed Berry. Surprisingly, I haven’t tried the other 2 yet. Yeah, I know. The “true” food enthusiast in me wanted to sample each one in the same day, but that’s how you get fat.

Here are the ingredients for my favorite breakfast/lunch/snack at the moment:

1. 1 cup of fat-free plain yogurt, whipped with a fork or whisk til creamy

2. 1 tbsp of agave nectar

3. 2 tbsp of dried wild blueberries

4. 1 Quaker True Delights granola bar or 1/2 cup dry granola topping of your choice

 

Ok, I know I promised I wouldn’t say anything about Valentine’s Day(there I’ve said it!) but I couldn’t help it! Big Sugar Bakeshop sent me this email and I thought that if I wasn’t going to get this obnoxiously cute dessert for V-Day then some lucky guy or gal should. I’ve had the red velvet cupcakes here before and they’re enough to warm the cockles of even my frozen heart. What’s more, they are moist, subsequently soft, and undeniably delicious.

There are certain things that when present in my field of vision, set my heart a-fluttering. For instance, fresh made tacos, champagne, whole strawberries, Clover coffee, stacks of Benjamins, the list goes on. Since I’m such an accomplished writer, it goes to figure that one of my favorite things is writing paraphernalia. If I’m within 20 ft of an art supply or stationery store, I am drawn in like a child by a cupcake. In fact, if Crane & Co ever made up their minds to install Clover machines and bake fresh mini red velvet cupcakes in-house, I would be in heaven.

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No, this post won’t include references to that word that starts with “V” and ends with “Day”. Whew, I know.

I stumbled across the Ferrero webpage, Share Something Sweet.com and thought they were doing something pretty cool for child hunger organization, Share Our Strength.

For a limited time, they’re donating $1 for every e-card sent, up to $10,000. I know, it sounds too easy, too selfless even. You mean, I can send a heart-warming little e-card AND subsequently have my heart warmed by knowing that I, by way of Ferrero sorta kinda donated money to help hungry little kids? Count me in.

Plus, if you’re feeling generous about surfing on the company time, try out the “What Chocolate Are You?” survey. Apparently, I’m a Ferrero Rondnoir™ Dark Chocolates Personality:

“You have a tendency to be drawn to all things elegant, modern and tasteful. Your sophisticated palate desires the complexity and rich, velvety dark chocolate of Rondnoir™ dark chocolates. You fancy culture and refinement infused with a little excitement along the way. And you know the real fun only starts after dark!”

Now if only I had a box of these suckers to try out. Hint…Hint.

With all my unemployment free time you’d think I’d be cranking out 5 posts a day complete with captioned pictures. At least this is my rampant daydream in between noon coffee meetings and driving my other unemployed friends around to interviews(hey, at least somebody’s getting some!). But then I remember I’m not a journalist, nor am I even a paid blogger, so I can start sentences with “but”, “and”, or “because” if I even take the time to form a complete sentence at all.

There’s something true about hardship taking its toll on people creatively, so I did what’s best in these circumstances and decided to wash away my woes by way of dehydration and binge walking. That’s right, I went to Vegas.

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