Meg, Food, Blog

Bloody Fucking Mary, Indeed.

2011-12-19T12:26:00.000-08:00

Besides, "I'm going to be a beautiful ballerina," the second most common phrase out of my mouth is, "Is there chicken stock / any meat in it?" Well, most of the time.

I didn't think to ask that about my Sunday brunch bloody mary at Jefferson Avenue Bistro, partly because I don't think to ask if there's meat in my beverages, and partly because I had called ahead to see if they served bloody marys AND if they had vegetarian menu options AND the person who assured me "yes" to both on the phone remembered me upon arrival AND took my order for a "veggie omelet and a bloody mary - hold the Lee & Perrins". . .

I should have asked.

"Bloody" mary has a whole new meaning in my world, these days. Bloody hell.

Come to Jicama moment...

2011-07-06T23:28:00.000-07:00

Dear Food:

We need to talk... Where do I begin?

It’s been a long year. Neither of us has been happy. I know you’re going to say that I’VE CHANGED. But truly, I think you have, too.

This is not an attack. I am the first to admit my wrongs, my faults, my shortcomings. I admit that I haven’t made this easy for you. I’ve been impatient, and, well, rude. Even things that you do well, or we’ll say relatively well, I’ve criticized. I know I can be demanding and judgmental, and while I’m not picky, maybe I’m holding you to an unrealistic expectation. You should be allowed to have an off day, make mistakes, learn lessons, grow, change. I acknowledge that I’ve made it hard, that I’ve been walking around town saying, “I don’t even know who you are anymore” or “maybe I never knew you” and, ok, I get that it’s not easy maintaining confidence when your partner is constantly disparaging you.

But food – really. I’m dying here. I spent four months only eating Whole Foods salads. I’ve lost weight. I can't remember the last time I took your picture. And, well… I am hungry.

So what do we do? How do we remedy this? Your Katie’s Margherita Pizza that once captured my fancy seems dull and lifeless these days.

Don’t get me started on your Monarch hummus (shudder).

It can’t be just me. I have to believe you’ve let yourself go – your tomatoes aren’t as fresh, your mozzarella not as melty, your chickpeas, a little too canned?

Brasserie in all of your French former-Chez-Leon owned-by-Niche glory? The cauliflower gratin is. Just. Cheese. On. Cauliflower.

I ate it, yes, paired with a lovely Bordeaux, and I didn’t squabble with the fact that I couldn’t eat your chicken-stock risotto. But I need MORE.

Please hear me – I’m not trying to pin this all on you. But what do you want from me? I’m a grown, educated woman, and I’m relegated to midnight toaster-oven nachos and lumpy Trader Joes’s instant fair trade cocoa made with water! I need love! I need adventure! I need compassion!

I’ve tried being independent, I’ve given you your space. I've done the whole "fly solo" thing. Heck - I mastered a three-egg omelet with breakfast potatoes!

I’ve even got a specialty in my pear-leek-goat cheese pizza accompanied with an orange-and-toasted-pumpkin-seed salad!

But we all know that god invented – ahem – food for a reason. Girl’s got needs.

So here’s the deal, food. I know we love each other; now we just need to start treating each other better. I don’t know how, but I will promise to try.

Let's compromise: you cook up something new and exciting, I’ll try to muster up the old thrill of food-photographing and stop declaring to anyone who will listen, “I’m not even sure it’s worth eating anymore.”

Or if that’s too much, let’s try baby steps – you start by never bringing up eggplant again, and I’ll get back to work on learning to love olives.

Maybe, if we work really hard, we’ll meet in the middle. Preferably at a vegetarian restaurant, but I haven’t forgotten my earlier comment so yes, I will be happy even with a good veggie menu option.

Good chat. Thanks. I feel closer to you already.

Sincerely,

MegFood

You Bore Me...

2010-10-06T15:42:00.000-07:00

Let’s just say that I went on a blind date with – I don’t want to name names, so we’ll call it “Schmanco” – and let’s just say that I’m not that into it. If you want, I’ll say it’s me, not you, but...

Ok you lost me at cheesy poofs, if I’m being honest. Cheesy poofs are what they are – flour, salt, egg, gruyere. Not earth shattering, ok, but I’ve said before and I’ll say again, I’magirlthatlikestoknowwhatI’meating. But I didn’t need to know this. Was it really necessary to go on and on? You may call them “gougeres,” but I call them… (yawn). Wait – what was I saying?

Oof and then I have to say, really? In mixed company? You’re going to pull that out? Tomato salad with cucumbers. Should be a safe bet for any situation. But you throw down a fistful of salt and, what should have been a rather innocuous experience turned, well, shocking, to be honest.

I let it go. I mean, we don’t even know each other. Things can be awkward at first, misunderstandings, whatever. I can get over it. But after three long hours of what was simply uninteresting at best and really, what was becoming rather tedious, you try to round the bases with julienned squash in a red sauce? This is not pasta. If you’re trying to impress a vegan, you do realize we eat grains, right? Don’t tell me your favorite activity is “cooking vegetarian” just to impress me. Uh-huh - and I read comic books. Religiously. Right. I hate an ass kisser and frankly, “Schmanco,” we both know who you are. It’s not sexy to pretend.

I didn’t want to have to say these things, but you pressed the issue. Maybe this is why you’re alone on the weekends so often. Take up a hobby; experiment; educate yourself. I have no hard feelings, but, I’m not going to say “let’s be friends.” I have lots of friends. Thanks anyway.

What is it about "I love you" that gives people the wrong idea?

2010-08-17T14:44:00.000-07:00

Can't we just be very passionate friends?

People always mistake my passion for something other or else. In fact, thrice lately people have misinterpreted my affections for something greater than they were meant to express. For the record, I love Sanctuaria. But please don't take that the wrong way. I don't need more confusion this week. But I digress; this is megfoodblog.

Here’s the story. My friend took me to this place I thought would be "meh" at best and more likely was the type of place where big buzzooomed girls wear cheap sateen boustiers and red red lips. It's called "Sanctuaria Wild Tapas," after all. It kinda looks like that inside. Don't get me wrong - I dig black and I appreciate that pleather wipes down nicely, especially in a restaurant - but it was a little "meh" mixed with "big red black buzzoom." I digress for a second time.

This. Place. Is. The. Only. Place. In. Town. To. Have. A. Cocktail.

Pour your G&Ts and your Cosmos and even your pathetic STL-version of a Sauzerac down the drain and let the bartender at Sanctuaria mix you an herb-infused, tincture-enhanced, frosty glass of something special. I don't know what's on the menu and I don't care. I'm sure they are nice. Better than whatever was written for the masses is if you sit at the bar and let the bartender invent something directly for your liking.

He Loves Me Not:
Hibiscus- and lavender-infused gin cocktail with rose petals floating on top.

Gypsy Punk (don’t ask how this was named):

Lavender- and lemon verbena-infused cocktail probably with gin, though it might be vodka, and with fresh lavender floating on top.

New York Sour:
Red-wine infused whiskey (I think) and lemon cocktail.

Other fantastic cocktails:

Now for the misapplied affection - I took my mother there, knowing she'd enjoy the experience of having a cocktail infused solely for her drinking pleasure. She mistook my passion to be directed at the bartender rather than the lavender tincture. That was confusing! I quickly disabused her of that notion. What's wrong with a modern woman embracing an appreciation for the finer things in life? I'm expressive! I call it healthy. I digress yet still again.

Beyond the cocktails, there are some worthwhile snacks. Sanctuaria is a tapas restaurant. I love the idea of small plates, but I'm not a fan of standard tapas. In fact, I find the food at Modesto and Barcelona to be facile and uninspired, not to mention needlessly fatty, off the top of my head. I would not classify Sanctuaria's tapas in that same way, though I do think some of the dishes lack merit. Three in particular are worth eating.

First, the tostones. On the menu they sound like plantain chips (read: "meh"). They are anything but, however; although if you are a smoker or prone to heavy salting, you might miss their exquisite subtlety. They look like peanut butter cookies but are plantains mashed and baked into little patties, then you spread on this sort of black bean mash, then the best part is the chimichurri sauce which they make with cilantro and parsley and some canola oil and some other herbies from the back garden. It is the earthiness of the beans topping the almost-fruitiness (though not sweetness) of the plantain patty, combined with what can only be described as the fresh greenness of the sauce that makes them so amazing. Increasingly I find I can only palate simple and fresh flavors. I get that heavily seasoned foods can be the product of serious gourmet preparation, but I'm more of the IwanttoknowwhatI'meating kind of girl, meaning I like flavors I can recognize. Truly delicious. Now I'm really digressing.

Second, the empanadas. Now these border on your average empanada - fried pastry. Good, yes, but we've had that before. The difference here is that they are filled with chihuahua cheese and guava, which tastes a little like raspberry and ricotta. It is accompanied by an "amarillo sauce," the ingredients of which I cannot recognize but which is very very tasty. These are not vegan; nor are they healthy. They lack the subtlety of the tostones so you'll have to disregard my prior paragraph as I now type that even though I don't know what I'm ingesting, these are good.

Third - this is a strange dish - plantain rounds atop a bed of melted mozzarella with a guava jelly. Just like it sounds, though the guava this time tastes a little strawberry. I'm new to guava, so I'm not sure what it's supposed to taste like. Strange, I reiterate, but delicious.

Beyond those, the salads were disappointing and the cornbread was the epitome of "meh." That's OK though, because as long as you're not trying to cover your 5 food groups and can stomach a meal subsisting of cheese and plantains, this is really more than sufficient.

Now when I went, I wore jeans once and pants another time and did not feel like the sore JCrewThumb sticking out on the BlackBoustier hand, so I’d say do your thing, whatever that is. But I would suggest prefacing your passionate exhortations - which you will no doubt have - to your mother or your grandmother or whoever worries about these things with a clear message that you’re really just in it for the drinks and while you may bring her to Sanctuaria to check it out, you won’t be bringing anything (read: anyone) home to meet her for the checking out, if that makes sense. No offense at all to bartender,of course, who I'm sure is a lovely person and who most certainly, truly, is an artist in his own right.

I just want to make clear that when I say, "I love you," I'm referring to the booze.

Maybe this time...

2010-07-27T14:14:00.000-07:00

Maybe this time, I'll be lucky

Maybe this time, he'll stay

Maybe this time

For the first time

Love won't hurry away

-International Superstar Sally Bowles

I know I just wrote you off, St. Louis. I apologize. I had things to say, and while you might not feel better, I do, for having said them.

Of late, I’ve felt a spark. Just a little fluttering. I don’t want to read into things, because I know that our chances are slim, but The Good Pie has shown me that there may be hope for us yet.

Hand made crust cooked perfectly in a hand made brick oven, topped with fresh tomatoes crushed into a sauce and buffalo mozzarella and fresh basil. That’s all. Just perfectly warm, crisp, melty, and delicious.

Let’s not jump the gun, here. Let’s just leave it at maybe, just maybe...

Nooner

2010-07-27T13:25:00.000-07:00

Nooner, anyone?

I like working downtown, for many reasons, but not the least of which was once CITY GROCER. Unlike overpriced and under-flavored Straubs, and over-salted and over-meated Schnucks, City Grocer's fabulous deli counter was replete with as many salads as you could ask for.

Sampling was mandatory. Options were diverse. Mr. Deli Counter was, um, engaging.

Asian broccoli salad and mac-and-cheese!

Italian summer veggie salad and broccoli pepper goodness!

Whoa, I must have really liked that broccoli business because I kept coming back for seconds! But also black bean salad with other deliciousness!

Tofu bok choy salad and light summer salad of peppers, tomatoes, and onions!

See, I have a thing for deli counters. The best I've seen in the world was located outside Galway, Ireland at the cafeteria at the Clifs of Moher:

But now City Grocer has been "upgraded" to City Gourmet in an effort to compete with the new fancy downtown market, Culinaria.

I hate to be a downer, but from what I can tell, the deli salads have suffered a sad fate. (Although they do create some really intereting cakes, now...).

Interesting cakes!

Where will I go for a delicious quickie around noontime now? Fast and cheap (and vegetarian), people! That's all I ask for!

Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing.

2010-07-26T11:31:00.000-07:00

You ever toss and turn,
you're lying awake and thinking about the one you love?

You ever close your eyes,
making believe you're holding the one you're dreaming of?

It hurts so bad when you finally know just how
low, low, low, low, low, she'll go.

-Chris Isaak

Baby did a bad, bad thing.

I know I am not supposed to patronize your, ahem, establishment. I know that I'm not supposed to, um, eat you. But I can't help myself. A girl's got needs.

Aspiring vegan, yes, but when your siren song of triple cream, or baked mac-n-cheese, or melted cheese between two deliciously buttered grilled pieces of bread, or - oh my - goat cheese scone! calls to me, I can't control myself.

I've seen the videos of horrible treatment of dairy cattle and I've supported my vegan friends in their personal and professional endeavors, but I just, er, melt, when you're near.

I'm not saying I need you. I'm not even saying I love you. I'm simply saying I'm weak in your presence. I'm intrigued by your creaminess. I'm fascinated with the way you, uh, taste.

I can't promise this will go on forever. I don't think either you or I want that. But for now, just for the moment...

I'm disappointed in you.

2010-03-26T15:12:00.000-07:00

I think it's time we compiled a list
of places that we shouldn't go.
Now is not the time to lose your voice.
Everyone should have a choice.
-Maximo Park

Game over, St. Louis.

I believed your promises, I did. I thought we had potential. Most definitely. I tried to love you. But you’ve let me down. As my friend recently said, “most of the time St. Louis is cool. But when it lets you down, it lets you down in the worst way.” Indeed.

I hate to write you off, as I’ve always tried to be your number one fan. But in light of recent events, I have no choice but to say that your food options aren’t doing it for me. I dare say it’s over.

First, all of your good qualities, the good places to eat, seem to close down. I’ve already mourned the losses of Revival and Eternity Deli, as well as the unfortunate transformations of Erato and City Grocer. But Sol, sweet, Sol, once the greatest lounge in the world, complete with velvet sofas, curtains, and espresso martinis, now a hideous warehouse techno dance club. Sol, simply, my bangs aren’t big enough. And I have reason to fear that the ONE vegan resty in town won’t be here forever.

But I’ve not even begun to touch on my other issues. I try to maximize the positive. I’m a person that accepts you for who you are and embraces you in all of your individuality. But if we’re being honest, really truly honest, then I really do have some complaints.

Mosaic, although you’re one of my favorite places to go, while your asparagus gnocchi, fried artichoke hearts with chili aioli, blood orange broccoli salad, and grilled asparagus are fantastic, the truth is, you haven’t changed your menu in more than five years. I know where to go if I want truffled frites, but seriously, have you got nothing going on inside of that kitchen of yours?

As for Indian: again, St. Louis, good effort. Rasoi you have taken upscale Indian and made something of it. I commend you.

But at the end of the day, what have you done for me lately? I’ve been to Graffiti, which seats less than twenty patrons and the kitchen is equipped solely with some frying pans, microwaves, and crock pots and still, still, their green curried mango cheese and hummus pizzas put your Korma to shame. It’s Indian alright. But it’s new; it’s edgy; it’s amazing.

And I don’t even know where to begin with sushi. I don’t eat meat or fish so maybe you don’t want to make an effort with the veggie rolls and seaweed salads and wasabi and soy sauces. Maybe you put all your sushi eggs in the fish basket and couldn’t be bothered with anything else.

But I’ve seen the sushi light. I’ve met a real contender in Blue Ribbon in Brooklyn with my choice of more than THIRTY veggie rolls including spinach rolls and black forest mushroom and avocado rolls… plus my choice of two different kinds of seaweed salad.

I could go on. But clearly you don’t want to. You’re content with mediocrity so who am I to force you into taking chances?

Look, I don’t want to be a downer, and I hope I don't sound bitter. I wanted to be the champion of your assets and your number one fan. But the truth is you had the opportunity and you blew it. And it's not even that I can't forgive your shortcomings. It's really the way you handle them that is so disappointing.

I mean, 50% of restaurants don't make it - I get that. But to transform from one of the best places in town into a sports bar? Or simply to put a sign on the door without notice - "closed"? After all of these years, St. Louis, that's simply not going to cut it.

I’m sorry, St. Louis, but game over. As soon as I finish law school, I’m outta here!

Stop playing coy with me Mr. Fromagier!

2010-03-21T14:40:00.001-07:00

Dear Charles Fromagier,

I know you were just being coy with me when I went to Artisanal in New York for a cheese dinner and you said you thought I probably wouldn’t even want cheese after my fondue with dried apricots and pine nuts accompanied by bread and crudites course.

And I know that when you kept returning to your cheese hole and I had to thrice summon you back to the table you were just playing hard to get.

And I know you were trying to impress me when you told me that investment bankers and gallery directors have been known to become fromagiers...

and that you were also trying to impress me with your stories of your trip to Wisconsin when you were sixteen and that one time you went to Vermont with friends and how you think you might have a distant cousin twice removed in Sicily.

But what I don’t understand is why you think I “wouldn’t even understand” your favorite cheese, epoisses, with all it’s melty French cow’s milk goodness and the honey-slathered walnuts and quince paste and dried fig cakes accompanying it.

Wasn't it you that said that anyone with a "deep enough interest" to "commit the cheeses to memory" could become a fromagier like you? Do you think my love for cheese - er you - is insincere? Do you doubt my commitment? Dear Dear Charles Fromagier, can’t you see that I yearn to melt with you?

Please stop playing games with me. I just know that we are a nice pairing. Please let's let our bold nutty flavors with hints of tang and firm texture and musty aroma finish emerge. I have seen the future and I know it is rich, full flavored, and intense.

You are the (big) apple of my eye.

2010-03-15T22:26:00.000-07:00

New York: you are the apple of my eye.

My friend told my other friend that he thinks I have a crush on New York. You and I both know that's not exactly accurate.

But as a woman of few words (ahem), I defer to the masters to express how I really feel.

New York, have I told you lately that I love you? That there's no one else above you? Fill my heart with gladness. Take away all my sadness. That's what you do.

Candle Cafe, with your orange grapefruit ginger lemon juice, and your chimichurri barbecued seitan, and your brown rice veggie salad with vegan artichoke heart dressing, and your Mediterranean tofu wrap, you make me feel, you make me feel, you make me feel like a natural woman (woman).

Pegu Club, with your hand cut ice cubes, homemade maraschino cherries, candied ginger gin cocktail, and earl grey martinis, at last, my love has come along, my lonely days are over, and life is like a song. With your broccoli tempura, I found a dream that I could speak to, a dream that I can call my own. I found a thrill to rest my cheek to, a thrill that I have never known.

Mario Batali, I think about you and your Otto pizza with olive oil, roasted garlic, and spicy chilies day and night, it's only right. To think about the food I love, and hold it tight, so happy together, paired with a nice arugula roasted tomato salad.

'wichcraft: Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can't help falling in love with your avocado pickled red onion salad topped with blackened chilies... and shaved Brussels sprout salad with Parmesan, pine nuts, and black currants, and your roasted eggplant honey ricotta toast points, and sweet potato goat cheese gratin with black olive tapenade, take my hand, take my whole life too. Because I can't help falling in love with you.

Strangers in the night exchanging glances, wondering in the night what were the chances we'd be sharing a pizza with hummus, zucchini, and wasabi peas at Graffiti. Something in your eggplant bun was so inviting, something in your mango cheese was so exciting, something in my heart told me I must have you.

Decibel underground sake bar, I'm so in love with you, whatever you want to do, is alright with me. 'Cause you make me feel so brand new, (let me tell ya) I want to spend my life with you. Pickled garlic, Japanese pancake with mayonnaise, sake, tofu, and rice cake, since, since we've been together, loving you forever is what I need... whether times are good or bad, happy or sad.

Al Di La, the way you make me feel (the way you make me feel), your Swiss chard stuffed Mulfati really turns me on (really turns me on) and your white salad with cauliflower, celery root, and fennel knocks me off my feet now baby (knocks me off my feet). With you, my lonely days are gone (lonely days are gone). Wooo hoo.

Bierkraft, you are the sunshine of my life. That's why I'll always stay around. Smoky Gouda Swiss spicy mustard roasted tomato arugula sandwich on a baguette, you are the apple of my eye. Forever you'll stay in my heart. I feel like this is the beginning, though I've loved you for a million years. And if I thought our love was ending, I'd find myself drowning in my own tears.

But New York, try as I might, I cannot stay. I knew that I was crazy, crazy for crying and crazy for trying and crazy for loving you. Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you. I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying and I'm crazy for loving you.

But if you're lost and you look then you will find me. Time after time. If you fall I will catch you. I will be waiting. Time after time. I love you.

Is it too soon to say I love you?

2010-03-06T10:09:00.000-08:00

Is it too soon to say I love you?

Dear New York,

I know I just got off the plane yesterday, but already I want to tell you I’m smitten. I mean, we’re not strangers. In fact, we’ve been close for years, in many ways. Remember the time we had grilled cous cous salad in Tribeca? Or the iced soy mocha from the subway? Or the raw zucchini lasagna from Pure? Or that fantastic lunch at The Hummus Place in Soho? Or or or wait wait – remember the vegan carrot dog from Brooklyn? Amazing. We've definitely had some good times.

And I know that I’ve only been back for a few hours. But already I like what I see. And this time, I don’t know, feels different. Is it weird to say that I feel like I’m coming home for the first time after a long time?

Mexican food at Dos Cominos in Midtown - roasted veggie quesadilla, margaritas, homemade guacamole, and three salsas...

Soy mocha and vegan quiche with roasted veggies and bread basket from Le Pain Quotidien...

Well, New York, we’ve got the rest of this trip to see what happens. I don’t want to rush things, but I’m excited. I just know that there will be fantastic curry and cheese plates and bottles of wine and raw food in our future. Or maybe even we’ll stay in and have a slice. It all sounds great. Yeah. That’s it. Smiles.

xoxo,
Megfood.

You Complete Me

2010-01-10T14:51:00.000-08:00

It used to be Meshuggah's everything bagel with cream cheese and extra tomatoes and lots of garlic pepper.

Then it became Ventana's whole wheat bagel with cream cheese, tomatoes, red onions, and capers.

And now, really, it's just any old bagel and any old tomato in any old place.

What can I say? We live in a cynical world. A cynical world. And bagel, I love you. You had me at tomato.

You may call it "eating around"; but I call it "there's too many sides in the sea."

2010-01-10T14:13:00.000-08:00

Is it commitment phobia?

I just can’t order an entrée. My mom likes to say that I just haven’t found the right one. But the truth is, I like to dabble with this and that and then move on along. True, I might return to the same restaurant or even the same avocado spring rolls again and again, but I just can’t bring myself to commit to the entrée.

It began with trying to frequent only tapas restaurants – that way I don’t have to feel bad about my, um, “eating around.”

And Mosaic is a great place for that: broccoli and blood orange salad, asparagus gnocchi, truffle chips, hummus, cheese plate with port-wine reduction, artichoke hearts with spicy pepper aioli.

Next I tried to eat at happy hours around town so I could sample freely and not feel bad about not committing to one entrée - half price apps from 5-7pm!

Scape is especially great for that – avocado spring rolls, truffle fries, roasted cauliflower, tomato ricotta hazelnut salad.

But now I am quite open about my, um, “eating around.” I find that life is much more interesting when you can taste this and sample that and not have to face the same EGGPLANT PARMESAN every day for the rest of your life. So I quite openly order sides, salads, and soups to my, um, “heart’s” content and never feel bad!

For example, at Acero, I sampled the Testun cheese with the wine-soaked rind, glazed roasted carrots, garlicky Jerusalem artichokes, grilled scallions, and more!

Life is full of options! I don't need half-priced apps to keep things simple and just have fun!

There are so many sides in the sea!

I'm too old for you.

2009-11-13T10:30:00.000-08:00

I'm too old for you.

Look, when we started hanging out, I thought, no big deal. It's all in good fun! I like cheese, you like cheese, sounds like a perfect night out to me!

But now that we’re spending nearly EVERY DAY together I am starting to question whether this is really appropriate. It’s not that you’re not good enough, Mac n’ Cheese, it’s me. Really. I’m THIRTY TWO. I just don’t know if we have a viable relationship.

That said, I REALLY LIKE YOU. I’m willing to give it a shot. But I can’t keep pretending I’m still a kid. We’re going to have to do this grown up style. We may even need to get you out of the box and start making you from scratch. At the very least, I’m going to dress you in grown up clothes. I’m adding tomatoes, peas, maybe even butternut squash. Mmmm…..

Ok we may have a future. But if I start hankering for Flintstones vitamins, we’re done. I have to face facts that I’m an adult and need to eat grown-up food. And I’m pretty sure they’re not going to make me sit at the kiddy table at T-giving this year. Big stuff for me. I can’t have you holding me back. But for the moment, I do like you. Let’s eat! xo

I’m tired of being your booty call

2009-11-05T10:29:00.000-08:00

I get it, fried food, I’m waaaay more into you than you are into me. But must you take advantage of me in this way? I'm not a piece of meat.

I’ve tried to quit you cold turkey. I haven’t eaten fast food since Morgan Spurlock brought to the big screen my single largest phobia.

But when it’s late and when there are cocktails, that’s when I’m weakest. I know this. You know this. And you take advantage.

My friends tell me I shouldn’t take your late night calls; that you’re only using me. And they remind me of every single time I woke up in a terrible state from too much nachos or too many fried mushrooms or god forbid, that one night at the Bosnian night club where the outside vendor’s burger WASN’T made of soy…

But I’m weak. I succumb. In the moment I think I really do mean something to you, and I listen to you when you whisper sweet nothings in my ear…. “cheese….. chips….. friiiiiiieeeeeeeedddddd ....... thiiiiiiiinnnnnnngggggggsssssss……”

And in the light of day I realize it was just a booty call.

Well, we’re drawing boundaries. I may take your call, but I am not going to put on that school girl outfit. Nope, only certain fried foods will I eat late at night.

Moonrise: your spinach raviolis are on the list. The marinara has hints of real tomato and not a trace of meat. Both tasty and not overly-laden with grease. Acceptable.

Nick’s pub: your nachos complete with stale chips and neon glow nacho cheese that comes out of a machine – out of the question. And don’t even think about asking me to try your fried provel cheese sticks again. I may have an open mind, and yes, I’m a girl that likes to have fun, but those are tasteless, heartburn inducing, full of enough sodium to make my face puff in seconds. Never again.

Sub Zero: your fried zucchini is great. I almost count this as a vegetable. I’ve even known to make two separate orders and eat both, and still walk away upright without too much limping. You know how to treat a lady. Real, fresh zucchini spears, house-made breading, not too greasy. Acceptable.

But Nick’s again: your fried zucchini is hideous. Frightful really. Lacking in flavor and artery-hardening. I’m starting to wonder if you add any value to my life at all. Unacceptable.

And Amsterdam. Good lord your undercooked provel cheese frozen pizza served on its own cardboard circle is just shameful. Don’t you have any self-respect? At least take your socks off; late night calls do leave in room for certain allowances nobody would make in the daylight. Beer goggles, if you will. But this is unacceptable. Though I dig that you bring your own roll of paper towels for post-consumption clean up. That's a nice touch.

Here’s the thing, fried food. I am a big girl, and I know you’re bad for me. I want something more. But I also know that sometimes, late at night, I might get lonely and I might make bad choices. I can live with this. There are limits, however. You can’t just steamroll me willy nilly anymore. Or else I’ll be unable to face my bloated, splotchy face the next day. Let’s keep this mutually beneficial, OK?

Talk to you this weekend.

The universe played a dirty trick on me.

2009-11-02T14:07:00.000-08:00

With my last dollar I tried to purchase some peanut m&m's to get me through two hours of con law. The vending machine thought I meant this:

Not that, vendy! Not that. Not ever that.

Somebody kindly lent me another dollar though!

I think I'm ready to be friends.

2009-10-26T11:30:00.001-07:00

I'll admit, I was angry at first, Pueblo Solis, and hurt and betrayed.

When I found out that your beans were pork-laden and your rice infused with chicken, I couldn't believe my ears. I mean, you offer a VEGGIE BURRITO on your menu and don't even BLINK when I ask for it without cheese!

Don't you think letting me know that you're already taken - that your heart is with MEAT and you'll never be anything more to me than a few passionate moments - was worth mentioning?

You led me on. I believed we'd have a love affair to rival all others but now I know that I meant nothing to you.

But I'm over it. Well, mostly. It's all about perspective and figuring out how you fit into my life. We are not right together; we aren't compatible as full-time lovers. But I think we can be friends.

The key is to find a place for Pueblo Solis in my life that is comfortable and safe. That place is happy hour. Chips, three salsas, perhaps some guacamole, and many margaritas.

I may not trust you again, but I can be civil. See you at 5:00.

I don’t think we’re going to work out.

2009-10-13T09:15:00.000-07:00

Its not you, it’s me. Really. I think you’re, um, incredible. But We’re just not compatible.

Me and vegan shepherd’s pie, um, no.

Seemed like we’d work –on paper. I mean, eharmony would have matched us on at least 97 points – peas, mushrooms, lots of corn, sweet potatoes, tempeh, veggie stock, tomatoes.

Mmmm….. but. no.

Problem one is that YOU JUST DON’T GO AWAY. That’s a lot of shepherd’s pie for a single lady! I have needs, yes, but I also need my space.

Problem two: it’s the meatiness. I dig you tempeh, but I don’t need you. I have a full, happy, well-rounded life without you. And nutritionally balanced. Your fake-meatness really doesn’t add value.

I did my best, in the end, though: I worked my way through the reheating and rewrappings and reseasonings. I mean, I committed to your creation, I’d like to try to see it through to fruition. But I’m glad it’s over. I’ve cleaned out my fridge.

Moving on to roasted green been salad!

I think I've met someone.

2009-07-10T16:32:00.000-07:00

He's a little quirky, totally ironic, extremely healthy, and 100% vegetarian. I fear this one might do me in, as I'm not sure we have a future together, and I know how these kinds of relationships can let you down.

As it is, Shangri-la is only open weekends and accepts only cash. These are red flags in the world of love as far as I'm concerned (in addition to living with your mother or having an empty fridge).

Nevertheless, I hereby vow to take this restaurant, to have and to hold, from this day forward, until death do us part.

How do I love thee, Shangri-la? You encourage me to embrace my freedom of choice! I can order everything - EVERYTHING - on the menu. Let me count the ways:

vegetarian slinger - eggs (though tofu is available), hashbrowns, cheese, onion, and vegan chili

chihuahua cheese quesadilla in whole grain non-trans-fat tortilla with house-made salsa

homemade veggie burger with grilled bellas and onions on it coupled with sweet potato fries

veggie omelet (there's broccoli in there!)

"magic carpet" wrap filled with house made black bean hummus, sundried tomato relish, green peppers, onions, lettuce, and non-trans-fat tortilla

veggie biscuits and gravy

veggie burrito

sunday brunch buffet

So MANY CHOICES!

side of green beans. S I D E O F B E A N S.

and what I haven't tried yet but fully intend to:

Veggie gyro

veggie BBQ burger

vegan caesar

soups without chicken stock!

OTHER GOOD STUFF.

It's love. This is the real deal. I'm shutting down my vegetarian restaurant dating service profile.

Another one bites the dust.

2009-07-05T13:53:00.000-07:00

I'd like to take a moment to pay homage to yet another great restaurant that has died the sad St. Louis death: REVIVAL.

Why, I ask WHY? Because they're turning into a sports bar! Great idea! It's what every beautiful garden patio, five-star vegetarian-friendly menu, and hip urban locale aspire to! Giant TVs!

As a memorial, I'd now like to take a moment of silence and recognize the greatness that was Revival.

Oven-roasted cauliflower topped with shaved granny-smith apple was the tops.

In fact, revival really knew their way around a cauliflower: cream of cauliflower soup with chive oil drizzled on top was the bomb.

Mmmmm.... nobody made a better bella burger with slaw.

Carrot. Ginger. Chilled. Soup.

If you're going to fry something, why not fry potatoes, tomatoes, or balls of corn bread goodness? That's what Revival thought, anyway. Rightfully so.

And salads. Everybody does 'em. But not everybody has arugula, oranges, citrusy-pepper dressing. Holy Revival, Revival.

A tiny pot of mac-and-cheese. I would wager tiny pots of anything are good; but greatness surely must be a tiny pot of something cheesy.

Rest in Peace, Revival. You're gone long before your time.

secret lovers

2009-06-20T09:36:00.001-07:00

Garlic and I have had words before.

It's not that I don't respect his lingering scent or his strong presence - I mean, I dig that in a potential partner. But the three-day garlic hangover after he's long gone, the middle-of-the-night garlic hot flashes, the taste of him on your lips well after you know he's moved on.... Those kind of things can haunt a woman. And I'm not into suffering.

But roasted garlic, that's another story. Whole clove, oven-roasted, tiny forks to remove the melty goodness and spread it on the toasted olive bread, that's my kind of lover. Steamy but not overpowering; complex, yet also gentle. A perfect presentation of in-the-moment passion without the long-felt heartbreak.

Cardwells' Mediterranean plate is a long-standing tradition with chunks of feta, toasted olive bread, dolmades, rotating salads like tabbouleh or cous cous or ratatouille, and of course, the roasted garlic.

Don't tell though - I don't want him to get any ideas.

life lessons.... cheese plate edition

2009-06-20T07:25:00.000-07:00

Friend and I have started a list of life no-nos. It's more or less a compilation of general rules to be followed by the general public.

1. No chewing gum with your mouth open. just don't do it. Smack is whack.

2. No chicken salad in class. Don't bring it and eat it with crackers. This also applies to tuna salad, egg salad, ham loaf, corned beef hash, and anything else made by injecting recognizable edible items into jello moulds.

3. Never tell a person that you will "shoot them an email." Emails are not shot, no matter how "Wall Street" you think you are, they are "sent."

4. The four-minute hip hop sex ballad on your voice mail before the message begins? Really? I mean really?

And I would now add 5. Don't slice the cheese on a cheese plate; it's meant to be chunky. You have to use nuts. You must include dried fruits. And don't forget the freaking bread.

Modesto: you made a good effort with the honey-slathered walnuts and grapes; but your american-cheese-like slices were a huge turn off. Massive.

And 33, you're a wine bar; get with the program. 4 cheeses is great! But you gotta at least gimme a cracker, darnit.

Everyone, take some life lessons from your wiser counterparts:

* * *

Mosaic in STL:

Ok not great photos - but there are several chunks of cheese, nuts, a little shot glass full of aged reduced balsamic, grapes, garlicky crostinis, watermelon slice. The works! And the cheese is standing upright. How often do you see that?! Awesome.

* * *

Niche in STL

I've had the pleasure of enjoying a cheese plate at Niche on three occasions. They rotate their cheeses frequently, as well as the spread (quince paste? apple dill compote? raspberry rhubarb jelly?), and always accompany with house-toasted crostini and candied nuts. Fabulous.

* * *

In Chicago, some wine bar across the street from Union Park on the green line.

This one rocked - multiple bread choices, tons of dried fruit, including figs!, goat cheese, brie, mancheygo, and more, nuts, apples, pears. Oh my. This may very well be the best cheese plate I've ever had. Even better with the $19 glass of wine (I am not kidding). Not sure I get the onion roll, but at least this plate diversified.

* * *

Sashas in STL:

First, the cheese comes on a slab of marble. That's just classy. Second, you get an abundance of cheeses, breads, nuts, and fruits. And they are named charming titles like "French Tickler" and "Euro Trash." Ok not so clever... but better than not having a cheese plate at all, really. Isn't it?

Garlicky homemade crostini, walnuts, dried cranberries, mancheygo, mahon, some sort of goat's milk cheese, and the yummiest of yummies, the caramelly delicious Geitost! Darn good. Good wine too.

* * *

Cardwells in STL

Now they are most accomplished in the Mediterranean-plate arena (see coming post "secret lovers"), but they are nevertheless adept at putting together a decent cheese plate. Especially given their West County locale! (eegads)

Note the cube of quince paste and buttery toasted olive bread.... yum!

* * *

RL in Chicago (for those not in the know, that's the Ralph Lauren bar near Mich Ave.)

So it's in a haze; that doesn't change it's goodness. Everything's better name-brand, too, right? (I wonder what a Louis Vuitton cheese plate would look like?! oh my!)

* * *

The secret? chunks of good, if not rare, cheese.

Salted/roasted/sweetened/candied nuts

Fruits - dried and otherwise.

Jellies and pastes - such as quince paste (Cardwells!) or apple dill jelly (niche!).

* * *

There's a method; a formula. Don't mess with success. Take it from a near-vegan cheese plate connoisseur!!!

Miami is not your friend.

2009-03-31T07:07:00.000-07:00

I was excited to go to Miami. I hear they have excellent sandwiches here, behind this gas station.

Didn't make it there. Nevertheless, I put on my Miami dress and let the sidewalk resty salespeople pitch me as I walked by. They tried to lure me with giant shrimps and lobster tails, but we both know that wasn't going to work. What did catch my interest, however, was the 10-gallon Mojito and the "buy one get one" deal during happy hour. As it turns out, that deal really applies to the small Dixie-cup-sized mojito.

I picked the resty with the nicest outdoor patio - cushions outside are so enticing! - and the best "view," then proceeded to happy hour.

This is what we got. We tasted it: a little frozen pizza, a little Stouffer's Home Delivery, and when someone barfed on the sidewalk next to us, we decided to move on.

Next place - better cushions, in fact, and a "cheese plate." Sounds promising!

Not promising.

Moving on yet again. This time, we thought, "when on spring break...."

But I can affirm, wholeheartedly, that Tequila Chica's is NEVER a good idea.

Finally, I let the iPhone do the walking and found a place highly regarded in another part of town. This area on La Esperansa Way was a pedestrian cobble-stone couple of blocks with some stores, a wine tasting place, and the restaurant I chose.

I should have been worried by the man in the Trojan costume prancing around outside, or the meat-ceiling, but it was, relatively speaking, OK.

What can I say? I'm a sucker for red checkers...

We enjoyed some Chianti, we split a Greek salad (their specialty?), and also the pesto mushroom gnocchi.

And then there were fireworks. No, not from the food; literally, fireworks.

And then we drove back to Boca, where the old Jewish New Yorkers retire and demand only the finest Italian wines and food. My kinda town. (Stay tuned for coming post "If I were an old man....")

Things you NEVER want to see

2008-12-06T09:57:00.000-08:00

1) mastodon phalluses on your plate. I dig it, Agave, you're trying to be all vegetarian and rice-bally and stuff, and I do appreciate your meat-free entree, but this was horrible. Hideous. I can't even tell you. I think Poblanos ‘Estilo RELLENO’ must mean something terrifying in Spanish.

2) last night's "dinner" memorialized in a cartoon. Uncanny, right?

3) ribs in the bathroom. R I B S I N T H E B A T H R O O M!

Brain Food

2008-08-27T13:13:00.001-07:00

I think we can see from the inverse relationship between the x factor of the photos of my food and the y factor of my brain's activities of late, that mathematically, lawschool is bad for blogging.

Wait a second; I'm not studying statistics!!

Let me try that again: Heretofore, based on sound judgment and that which a reasonable person would deem as such, that the photographic lack of statutory rulings enclosed in this blog are evidentiary support for the claimaint's petition for lack of time and resources for blogging.

Something like that.

Anyway, though there is a dearth of blog time, the food isn't all that bad as a law student!

We have Meshuggah's Famous Bagels and salad!We have Revival - one of my favorite restaurants - fried green tomatoes, summer squash pizza,and a lovely Rioja!!

And Meg's famous breakfast...

I could go on, but I have to read the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure. Stay tuned.

New York: They're Not Fucking Around (as promised)

2008-08-13T20:19:00.000-07:00

A friend and I once had a joke about our alma-mater, the University of Missouri. We said their slogan should be, "UMSL: You're not fooling anyone."

Well, in the same vein, I might say something like, "Humphrys: Are you kidding me?"

or "Mosaic: Fan Fucking Tastic."

or maybe even "USAirways: A Crying Shame."

And of course, if I were to say something about New York other than "New York: Fuck Yeah," then I would probably say, "New York: They're Not Fucking Around." Because they aren't.

(as a side bar: will all this fucking cursing hurt my legal career??)

Regardless; here's why NY AIN'T FUCKING AROUND:

An iced soy mocha and the subway:

Spicy Spanish Spinach from Pipa's and the Top of the Rock:

Roasted beet and goat cheese bruschetta from the Cook Shop and Central Park:

Indian samosas and Park Ave:

Wine from HOUSE and Claes Oldenburg (fuck, you can't beat Giant Soft Fan):

Williamsburg, Brooklyn diner breaky and wall art!

Ok you see what I'm saying now? Fuck yeah.

Let me ask you one question

2008-08-13T19:24:00.001-07:00

Is it wrong to complete your first homework assignment for law school over a rather expensive dinner and a glass of zin?

Shouldn't I be paying my dues? Living on the cheap, respecting my student loans, taking advantage of the always looming "free food"?!

eh.

I dunno, I think contract law is fun. But it's even better with wine! I promise you!

Oh-bama.

2008-08-13T19:05:00.001-07:00

No, bama.

Let me be clear: this isn't a complaint. This is me expressing concern and symapthy. And sorrow that I can't do better.

At a recent rally for the presidential candidate whose name begins with O and ends with ama, I saw this:

And this:

Oh and this:

Oy-bama.

If I had the time and the means, then I would so love to cater these events! If so, I'd cook something like this:

Or maybe this!!

But alas, I didn't even cook those myself, much less could I provide food for the masses at a political rally. In fact, when the O....ama campaigners call me and ask for my help, I've had to give them my stock respose: "I'm sorry, I'd like to, but I'm about to start law school and I can't commit to anything right now. Good luck, though!"

Sigh...

I can vote, however! Go-bama!

just make yerself a dang quesa-dilla!

2008-08-12T20:45:00.000-07:00

When all else fails, then you go for the quesadilla. If you're lucky, they might add veggies inside. And if you're double lucky, then they might remember NOT to add the chicken when you ask.

It's not so bad, I suppose, the quesadilla. Tortilla, cheese, some veggies. No wait, that's what's so bad. I mean, they taste good; that's why when you're 13 and you discover the wonder of melted cheese inside crispy tortillas you embrace them with such gusto. But undoubtedly, the tortillas are trans-fat-laden. I know this for several reasons:

only New York and California have banned transfats in restaurants
only transfat flour tortillas get that nice crisp when you fry them. It's much harder to get that texture from the healthy variety. And don't even think about the whole grain variety. Uh uh.

And besides the TF problem, they are super cheesy. Which is good if you heart cheese. Which I do. In my mind. But when you're a bit lactose intolerant, then that much cheese is, frankly, just wrong.

But you can come to terms with them because of the guacamole and the salsa: if you can't get veggies inside, at least you're getting some tomato and avocado. Right??? Well, unless your guac is the Kraft variety, which actually doesn't have any avocado in it. Which brings me back to my first point: when all else fails.

I usually only go this route when I'm at a bar, looking for a snack, and I'm facing toasted raviolis (which, by the way, someone tried to recently convince me were stuffed with spinach! the nerve!), chicken fingers, or fried cheese (again, tasty, but hard on the body). Lately I've done this a lot it seems. Here's my ranking:

1) First place goes to the Irish pub downtown (the other Dubliner), Tigin's. These were quite yummy: pepper cheese and lots of fresh garden veggies inside, including tiny tomatoes, but not on tortillas. Nope, in true Irish fashion, they were grilled on boxtys, which are potato pancakes. Amazing! 2) Second place is the Cheesecake Factory. I asked them to add veggies to their cheese quesadilla and they stuffed it with some really nice corn succotash. I actually had to purchase a side of corn succotash and then they stuffed it in, but it worked out!

3) Felix's. oy. Felix's is good for one thing: the chocolate covered strawberry martini. Which is not a veggie quesadilla. But the two went hand-in-hand ok for a work happy hour. You do what you gotta.I'm going to think of some interesting, easy to produce, healthful, tasty suggestions for bars to include on their menu and then send them all a postcard. Perhaps it will go something like this:

Dear happy hour locale:

Please consider adding any of the following for your happy hour menu:

asian veggies and a sesame-tahini dip
fresh spring rolls with cucumber, carrots, lettuce, sprouts, you name it!
fresh hummus with whole-grain pita
bruschetta with mushrooms, tomatoes, and/or roasted red pepper. oh and roasted garlic. maybe beets and goat cheese, too
baked sweet potato fries
edamame.

I appreciate it!

Signed,
Megfood.

Just a thought! They might not be thrilling options, but they would be a far superior choice to us near-vegans out there when happy houring. Seriously.

In the mean time, if you are a die-hard quesadilla fan, then I did happen upon a fabulous quesailla recipe that I make myself sometimes. If you're in the mood, try it.

whole-grain transfat-free tortillas
fresh corn cut off the cob
yellow onion
baby spinach
mozzarella, grated

Just saute the veggies (make a generous amount)
throw them on a tortilla laying flat in a dry, hot skillet
sprinkle with a tiny amount of cheese--just enough to bind it
cover with another tortilla
heat till melty and crispy
flip
voila!

Amazing!

whole grains? check
protein? check
iron, fiber, other nutrients? check.

did you add real avocados and tomatoes?

then lycopene, vitamin C, healthy fats, check.

you catch my drift.

I bet these aren't the kind that Napoleon Dynamite made, though. His were probably cheesier.

Oops, I did it again

2008-08-06T20:29:00.000-07:00

I ate a vegan dawg

from Willie's Dogs

In Brooklyn

But this time, I opted for the tofu dawg rather than the marinated carrot. Same cheesy avocado, though. Oh, and a side of beans.
If you've got 2 hours to get from Brooklyn to Chelsea and you have to see the Takashi Murakami exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum on the way because it's the last day, then truly, your only choice for lunch is a vegan dawg. Really. Just ask Willie.

New York: Fuck Yeah

2008-08-05T08:13:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about this for a while... why is everything better in NY?

People ask me why I love NY so much, and I usually respond, "the subway," but that can't be it. I mean, MegFOODBlog, right? And yes, the food is bountiful, noteworthy, and mood-specific. Massive. The thing is, though I think my heart is in the subway, the food is where my soul is, because in NY, you can get a meal to suit every occasion, every event, every mood. It's a little bit like - what do they call that? Pathetic Fallacy or something? That literary device where nature mimics human emotion. Yes, the food in NY does that.

If you're feeling contemplative, then you have to go to Teany. Teany is Moby's vegan tea house and restaurant in the East Village. It's a great place to get a healthy snack, drink a pot of tea either to relax or to get totally amped up, and just be left alone and ogle tattoos. It's intimate, but you don't need to feel like socializing there. So, life's got you a little down? Head to Teany and have a pot of jasmine tea and the amazing artichoke heart beet salad (add goat cheese)! You'll see, it's enlightening! The vegan creamy herb dressing is best!

If you're feeling social, on the other hand, then Moutarde in Park Slope in Brooklyn is where it's at. Equally intimate, this one somehow breeds conversation and interaction. Start with a bottle of red to accompany the crudites and mustard first course. Then, while you have the option of a meat or even veggie risotto entree, I recommending selecting from the sides menu, where you can maximize your flavor opportunities and encourage lots of cross-plate-tasting! It's the epitome of intimate socializing. I had the caramelized endive (oh my), the julienned veggies with roasted potato mash, the carrot/butternut squash puree, and then the most amazing shitake and asparagus risotto I'd ever had. I know it's just mushrooms and asparagus, but there was magic in there (and it wasn't chicken stock. I asked. For real!) If you're on the fence about something, then you're going to need a lot of room to make choices and not feel punished for those choices. The Farm on Adderly in Ditmas Park in Brooklyn will afford you that kind of freedom. Between three, we had 8 dishes, a bottle of wine, various other wines, a coffee course, one heck of a ton of leftovers, and not much of a dent in the pocketbook. The best part, though, was not only that we could bring home the remnants of our exploratory journey, but we could bring them home in compostable sugarcane containers! And if we didn't have ready access to a compost bin, then the Farm on Adderly would graciously take them back and compost them for us!

So what to eat is: the best fries in NY (voted!) with a curry mayo; fried artichoke hearts with house made sundrieds on a walnut puree; grilled asparagus with a poached egg on a spicy mustard sauce; chilled cream of summer pea soup with truffle oil; fried foccacia; baby butter lettuce with fried onions, peas, lemon thyme, and a housemade buttermilk dressing; finally, a pea fettuccine.

But say it's not a day of choices; you aren't looking to think or contemplate; you just want good. Take the train down to Tribeca and stop by Il Mattone. This place is perfect for subsisting. Tribeca is full of energy and posh, but you needn't exert yourself. This little corner bistro allows you to just be. To do so you need three things: a glass of zin, the butter-parmesan-champagne-vinaigrette artichoke hearts, and the couscous salad with grilled veggies--a little warm, a little charred, and very balsamicy. Whoa!

For those occasions where you are embracing life--just digging in and taking hold of it--you need to make your way to Chelsea and dine at the Cook Shop. The food here is phenomenal and abundant, so you don't need to ponder what looks best or what you're in the mood for. And if you ask for a glass of wine, they automatically bring you four glasses, four bottles, and start pouring. I heart impromtu wine tastings!!

The Cook Shop is great for moments when you're in it because they match odd ingredients in ways that shout, "fuck yeah!" So just pick a few dishes and go for it! I recommend the ginger vodka lemonade to accompany the bread and horseradish-creme fraishe spread course, then the purslane (a citrusy green), blueberry, and toasted hazelnut salad, the corn and purple Asian basil soup, the fried hominy grits (the size of nickels!), the morel mushroom ravioli in a pea sauce, oh and while you're at it, you may as well enjoy every dessert on the menu. No need to exert brain power choosing; just go for it! This is life, and life is beautiful!

But say it's a dark day; not depressed, just low lit. You're feeling earthy, romantic perhaps, or maybe just European. Then head underground to Pipa in the Gramercy neighborhood, have some sangria or some Chilean malbec, enjoy the music of the Latino underworld, and experience tapas. Wine infused mushrooms, spicy and covered with herbs; grilled asparagus in an avocado sauce; spicy sauteed spinach; and a flatbread pizza with corn, veggies, and bean puree. Dessert was good too, but mostly this place was good for the dark and steamy ____________ (fill-in-the-blank). (wink)

Got a good night's sleep? Went for a run or to the gym first thing? You need to rebuild your protein supply! Dizzys in Brooklyn will get you the best breaky for any given Sunday. You should probably find someone to split two meals with you, because you'll want the benefit of both the eggs Florentine and the power breakfast with yogurt, granola, and fruit. And then there are the complimentary muffins and scones to round out any meal.

And I would be remiss, of course, if I didn't talk about NY celebrations. These can be had in many ways, but for the kind where you have good news to share, and you want the entire city to know, then you head yourself to Rockefeller Center and you sit amongst the masses. You may even run into Elmo. Order yourself a good red zin and a cheese plate, and you'll find that your good spirits will be well served!

I could go on. Seriously.... I could. But should I?

Nah. I'll save the rest for the next blog: New York: They're Not Fucking Around!

fear, worry, concern

2008-08-04T18:26:00.000-07:00

Ok this blog was supposed to be entitled: Vacation Santa Fe! Woot! But here's the thing... I think I'm broken! I'm food crazed! What was once a mere obsession has transformed into an all-encompassing, fully physically and emotionally consuming fixation! I'm a foodie addict! The food blog was supposed to help me, work out my kinks, you know, let some steam out of that pressure cooker of my obsession; but instead, I fear, it has only created a monster. A vegetarian-meal-searching monster. Ack!

How I came to realize this was on my vacation in Santa Fe. Lovely city. Amazing art, really. Not even all pastelly. Some serious creative energy there. And a J Crew (you can't beat that). But "fun" was not had until restaurants were identified and reserved! I was a restaurant freak show--looking things up online, asking locals for advice, toting my Frommers and Fodors around with me. Unfortunately, I was not yet the proud owner of an iphone and so couldn't yelp local dining establishments.... but I somehow pieced it together the old fashioned paper and pen way. And it paid off, sometimes. But always, always, the day's greatness was measured by the food.

But I also found that the quality of food didn't even always matter with this disease! It was sometimes just the restaurant itself--the tablecloth, the glass of wine (or the margarita in this instance), the ambiance. Even the mediocre meals satisfied my cravings for some reason. Evidently, it's not about my stomach; not even about my tastebuds. I'm going to have to explore this. Figure out what the heck is up with my brain and get to the root of this evil.

But enough... this is not MEG FOOD CONFESSIONS OBSESSIONS DIRTY SECRETS BLOG. It's just the food. So here's the eats!

Most meals in Santa Fe, Taos, and Albuquerque are accompanied by chips, salsa, and sopapillas with honey. Whoa nelly. Or rather, Holy Mole!!

The chips are almost exclusively corn tortillas deep fat fried, salted, and then served with a very think although not chunky tomato salsa. Sometimes cilantro, sometimes onion, always garlic.

If you're lucky, you get a few margaritas, too! The best are the plain, although this agave one was mighty fine.

The sopapillas were similar from restaurant to restaurant--fried dough topped with honey. The nicer restaurants had fancy honeys, like fresh clover or even lavender-infused, but in the end, it was always sticky-sweet-delicious.

A lot of the meals were what I figure to be standard southwestern fare: blue corn tortilla bean burritos, cheese enchiladas, various chiles such as green, red, or vegetarian green (high five, New Mexico!), veggie tacos with sauteed mushrooms (double backflip high five, New Mexico!!), etc. This one had puffed hominy on the side though, and that's just awesome!

But there were some killer entrees to be had, too. The Fodors highly recommended a restaurant called Los Mayas, Mexican rather than New Mexican, and they were spot on. I had a vegetarian platter with chile rellenos, black burrito smothered in mole, black beans, and Spanish rice, all set to the tune of a little flamenco guitar! Holy Mole, for real this time. I've never tasted vegetables, beans, sauce, rice, spice, sweet, salty, crunchy, hot so delicious before. It was amazing. To die for. I almost wept. But that takes me back to my concerns from above, the whole over-attachment to food, so I'll stop while I'm ahead. Suffice it to say it was phenomenal.

Another great meal was at La Fonda in downtown Santa Fe. I went for a light lunch--mango soup with honey lavender yogurt sauce and then tomato-goat-green-balsamic salad. It was tops. Key. The goods. I always applaud a restaurant that can take standards and make them special. I also give props to someone who makes soup out of strange and foreign ingredients. In the words of Joey, "whoah!"

So though I was there 5 days and only had the fortune to experience 4 restaurants across 10 meals, I still say wow. I give the art a 10, the food potential a 10, and J Crew, well, do what you gotta.

raw blog

2008-07-09T08:47:00.001-07:00

I like the idea of raw, I really do. I know that it's healthy for you (despite my father trying to convince me that NOT cooking food zaps its enzymes), I know this. I have considered embracing a raw lifestyle, I have. I have pored over the pages of this cookbook, and I even registered for a vegetable dehydrator for my big event that begins with a W and ends with an ING, I did. But, for now, I'm still dabbling with the vegan thing; once cheese and I are on the skids permanently, maybe the transition to raw will be the inevitable next step. We'll see.

So for the moment, my raw lifestyle exists only in short bursts; usually when I'm traveling, because the one and only lonely raw restaurant in STL closed a while back. So, when I'm in NY, I hit PURE Food and Wine. This place is the one featured on SATC. I think it was the one where Samantha met Smith. Or at least that's the rumor. Or at least that's what New Yorkers let Midwesterners believe when they come visit, so they have a story to tell back home. (Remind me to tell you of the time I meet the Doog in NY... he's no MD, let me tell you!!).

The thing about raw is that it looks like "normal" food (whatever "normal" is). It's not some new invention concocted that highlights the food's natural raw beauty; nope, it's lasagna, pizza, tamales, risotto, etc. But the weird thing is that it's not just "normal" food uncooked (or kept under 118 degrees); rather, it's all kinds of unusual ingredients used to make food that resembles rice (which requires serious cooking), cheese (which is from an animal), etc. Hence, cashew cream, celeriac risotto, sprouted wheat crackers, and the like.

So at PURE, that's what we had--regular old run-of-the-mill food made from wacky ingredients and kinda room temperature. Here goes:

Caesar Salad with Pignoli Parmesan and Nori: Spicy Thai lettuce wraps with pea shoots, mango, cabbage, and a tamarind chile sauce:

Marinated shitake, avocado, ginger, and cucumber "sushi":

Creamy cauliflower samosas with banana tamarind sauce and mango chutney:

Chanterelle mushroom and Kalamata olive ravioli in macadamia nut cream:

White corn tamales with raw cacao mole and marinated mushrooms in salsa verde:

Wild mushroom and asparagus En Papillote in celeriac cream:And last but not least, Zucchini and Roma tomato lasagna with a basil-pistachio pesto and pignoli ricotta:

Holy zucchini!

So here's the thing, though. These dishes are amazing; they look stunning on the plate, all vegetably and fresh, and they taste incredible. It might not taste like Grandma's cheesy Ragu lasagna, but you get the idea--it's kinda "cheesy," it's tomato-y, the zucchinis are shaped like noodles. And it's good, it's way flavorful. It's fresh. It's healthy........

But I just can't commit to that right now. For the moment, I'll keep my rawness for special occasions or for when I need to detox. I'll still cook my beans til they're done. And in the mean time, in an attempt to eschew the animal products and embrace the earth, I'm on the hunt for yet another GREAT VEGAN BAG.

Pizza Parade

2008-07-08T12:50:00.000-07:00

Being cheese-wary (and no longer an adolescent), I don't consume the mass quantities of pizza that I used to. And too, I just loved Chicago-style pizza, and though I can appreciate Imo's and the St. Louis creation provel, my heart belongs to another crust. (sorry)

Nevertheless, there are times for pizza, and during those times it is crucial to have the proper balance of veggies, sauce, cheese, crust, spice, etc. This may vary from person to person, I will grant you. But I will also tell you this list is right. It just is.

First off, I'm not a fan of Blackthorn. To those unfamiliar, it's gooey, it's cheesy, it takes literally and seriously 2 hours to get your pie, and the restaurant (really more of a bar) is smoky. I know that people go crazy for it, but it's just too much cheese for me and I leave feeling like a stuffed (soy-based) pig. One stuffed with 2 lbs. of cheese, that is.

The pizza that I find most delicious in the STL is Pizzeria Della Piazza. It's on the Hill, of course. It's wood-fired, it's local, it's fresh, it has that awesome cornmealy crust, and it's not overly cheesed (well, rather, they respect your request for light cheese). I always get it with tomatoes, mushrooms, and onions. It's phenomenal. It can take a while to get your pizza, just like Blackthorn, but it's well worth it. And the house salad is yummy too! And the wine! (This is why I have my birthday party there every year...)

I have pizza in my family, which means that my taste has been upgraded slightly. I can no longer just take the old Domino's as it comes; no, I've been spoiled by home made and organic. My brother is a bit of a pizza connoisseur, and for holidays and visits he makes his own dough and whips out his famous pear-leek-goat cheese or lemon margherita. wow!

But if you're in the STL and it's not a holiday or brother's not visiting, then the closest thing, probably, is the newest pizza joint in town, Katie's Pizzeria. It's actually pretty good. They have the gourmet style pizzas with light cheese and fancy toppings; I think they're more like flatbreads, but really yummy. Mushroom is awesome and so is the potato.

Next of my preferences, I'd say, is La Villa Pizza in New York. You may disagree pizza-wise, but remember I'm right on this (and also, everything's better in NY.). Their vegetale is crazy-veggie-insane. Tons of veggies. Lot's of garlic. There's not even room on the crust for too much cheese. Unfortunately, I don't know how this represents in NY Pizza terms; this guy doesn't even rank it. But it's become a standard for me whenever I visit.

Another new St. Louis pizza place, Onesto, is pretty good. The pizza is super wet and doughy--lots of sauce, lots and lots of garlic, big, fresh crust. But I think that it's best because of the atmosphere; despite an hour wait just to get a table, the restaurant is just really nice; people nice; wine nice; grassy area nice; neighborhood nice. Pizza nice, yes, but mostly just nice place for a bite.
Then there's the standard fast-food answer to gourmet pizza, California Pizza kitchen. For being in the mall, it's pretty OK. It sure beats Pizza Hut and Dominos! The mushrooms on this baby were awesome; but it was super super cheesy, which kinda did me in after a slice. Leftovers, however, leftovers!!

I don't know about other cities, but the newer upscale restaurants in STL are really into including pizzas on their menus lately: Revival, Koko, etc. It's just the thing to do, I suppose (mac-and-cheese, too). But here's my thought: yes, you can, and yes, it might be OK, or even good, but let's leave the pizza to the Pizzerias of the world and let the chefs cook up some other ingenious food creation. Right? I mean, if Iron Chef put every ingredient on pizza (squid-ink pizza, cod roe pizza, praying mantis pizza!!!!, etc.), then who'd watch? Not me. Ok I know that they do that on the American version of Iron Chef (shoot, even the secret ingredient one time was "pizza dough,") but still, good restaurants ought to try to fight that urge, branch out, get off the crust, folks!! That's what I say. And yes, the pizza at KOKO was pretty OK, but nothing like good old vegetale or Pizzeria Della Piazza. I digress...

Finally, if we're spanning coasts (and time), then we have to tour west for California-style. I have two that are opposite ends of the spectrum for CA-style: one overly cheesy Italian roasted veggie and one raw. Yep, raw. Made with wheat germ mold crust and cashew cheese. Both good, both a little shocking to the system for obviously different reasons, but still, both pizza.

Food Musings: Part I

2008-07-03T10:10:00.000-07:00

Well, some of you know that my life has changed lately. In some fairly major ways. And though these ways are largely un-food-related, because of me being who I am, Megfood, these changes definitely have made an impact on my eating. Most notably, I’ve been eating out. A lot. As if to say, “Life, you may give me lemons, but I’m going to eat out. At fabulous restaurants! And I'm going to love it!!” I’ve tried new places in STL, I have happy houred all over town, I’ve enjoyed countless working lunches, and generally, I’ve just chowed down.

But life is throwing me another major life-changing event in about 6 weeks, and this one will have a definite, certain, tangible impact on my eating.

I am going to law school.

I am quitting my job.

I am preparing for my future as a Food Critic (wait, what? I mean, my future as an Attorney.)

And I am living on….. student loans.

Ack!

And though I’ve been polite, neither Mohela nor Wachovia, nor Commerce Bank nor Bank of America, have agreed to my request for extra funding for gourmet food. So that means that me living high on the vegan hog’s days are numbered; we’re at T-6 weeks and counting. And after that, oh my, I’ll be facing the long, lonely frozen food aisle.

Double Ack!

In homage to some of the best food I’ve had this summer and to those of my friends that cooked it, and in acknowledgment of the fact that my days in restaurants are numbered, I’d like to take a moment to honor the greatness that is eating at home.

And I’d also like to add, politely and with full esteem and graciousness, that if any of these generous, talented, remarkable cooks’ cups ever runneth over, or their plates ever overfloweth, then they should feel free, at any time, to call me from the depths of ramen and I will gratefully partake of their feasts. Here’s to you!

Sister's famous brownies

Black bean and roasted veggie casserole

Friend's Grandma's famous Spanish tortila

Hot veggie salad

Homemade mama mia spaghetti

Roasted sweet potato wraps...

Delicious!!!

In the mean time, however, I've got 6 weeks of fine dining, so let's let 'er rip!!!

Why I don't eat meat

2008-07-02T16:22:00.000-07:00

ACK!
EEEGADS!

HOLY POTATO!

LARD SAVE ME!

If I were a red curry....

2008-06-30T18:10:00.000-07:00

Then I'd probably first live at Thai Country Cafe. This curry broke me; supposedly, red is the hottest, although I can't really support that with fact. Nevertheless, when I first began my first venture into red curry, I'd order it mild and sweat and gulp down water as I worked my way through a few bites of mostly rice. However, like a good foodie, I persevered and now I'm thoroughly "medium" with occasional forays into "spicy"; what? Yep!

So TCC curry: I've eaten here regularly (sometimes every week) for years--5, 6, 9? Don't know; but suffice it to say, it's good, it's consistent, they know their regulars, and they do it right.

TCC red curry comes vegetarian with steamed tofu, red and green peppers, and basil. I always order "extra extra vegetables," which for $1 buys me broccoli, mini corn, bamboo shoots, carrots, and mushrooms. The sauce is coconutty, a little trace of peanutty, and very very curry. It's just freaking delicious.

But although technically my second place winner would be The King and I, that's partly out of deference and respect for the last 9 years, because in many ways, KI trumps TCC.

The red curry at KI is much thicker; best I can figure is that they use coconut cream vs. coconut milk. It's very very rich. And it's spicy and a little bit more peanutty. Theirs comes standard with bamboo shoots, tofu, peppers, corns, mushrooms, and basil, as well as eggplant. For $1 I can add a vegetable, so I always choose broccoli. Overall, it's fantastic. Much richer, so you leave feeling a little roly poly, but still good.

Besides the richness--which may change your choice of restaurant (in 100 degrees you may prefer lighter curry?)--the restaurants vary. The wine list at KI is superior; I probably wouldn't drink the wine at TCC. But it's packed on the weekends and you may wait up to an hour, which is always a bummer. Finally, TCC is in the loop and KI is on the southside, so it really depends on where you're at for the evening.

If I were to be allowed to give a tie, I think I'd give them a tie for first. Wait. My blog. My rules. I tie TCC and KI for first.

Following behind in second, then, is the only other candidate up for review today: Basil Spice. This is the new Thai place on South Grand, which is ballsy, I'd say, not only opening up amidst several other established Asian restaurants, but also opening just doors from KI, which has been around since the 80s at least. Anyway...

Their red curry was very mediocre. If I were reviewing others today, BS would most likely be pushed back to 3rd, 5th, maybe even last place. It wasn't hideous; but it wasn't anything to go gaga over. In fact, the dish my dinner partner had, a basil dish, was far superior. So maybe it's jut not the place to order a curry.

Their curry was very watery. My request for "extra extra vegetables" bought me a little of this and a little of that, but nothing major. And the tofu was fried; that's always tasty, but unnecessary. If I went back there, I'd get something else.

Other solid red curries in town, if you're not on Delmar or Grand (or if you don't feel like heeding my advice): Rearn Thai in Clayton. It's good. Blue Elephant in Clayton; also good, but I think it's more of a lunch place. And Thai Cafe, TCC's sister-restaurant East of Skinker. It's a slightly more upscale red curry. Actually, it's exactly as if KI and TCC had a curry baby--it's a little rich, but not too thick, a little pricier, but not too crowded, etc. And I hear (although tasting is believing) that Sen Thai is very good. We'll see about that.

Happy Hour: Sapphire

2008-06-25T13:09:00.000-07:00

To make those post-work hours happy, you need two things: Martinis and Small Plates. There are variations on this theme (beer and snax, wine and cheese, you get it), but essentially, that's what's up.

A new restaurant in the CWE, Sapphire, replaced one of my favorite old restaurants, Zoe, which was a great destination for Happy Hour. Zoe was especially great because the standard CWE happy hour destination, Balabans, doesn't open til 6 and that, frankly, is just too late. But we tried this new place anyway, seeing as how it was open and it was about that time.

So we ordered a few martinis, enjoyed the complimentary fried chile snax, and set to work endeavoring to be happy.Sadly, of the three martinis experienced by myself and friend, only one was drinkable. It was a "passion plum" or something, which was basically a cosmo, which I enjoyed. But the "green tea" and the "melontini" were bad, though, seriously. I don't know how you mess up ice, vodka, juice, sugar, but they did.

The Small Plates, I must admit however, were phenomenal. Spicy chile beans and spicy chile sweet potato fries.

Sapphire digs their chile flavoring, but if it works, it works!

Although I might not venture back there again for happy hour (cocktails are a necessary element of the happy hour equation; otherwise, it's just dinner), I enjoyed myself and I did, in fact, spend that hour happily. I did! And I hear they're great for lunch!

Killer Q

2008-06-25T12:31:00.000-07:00

Friends had a barbecue. Typically, I go over the top, buying too expensive rare ingredients and coming armed with too much food (I swear). Not so much this time.

Too bad, too, because these foodies would have really dug meg's famous guac or meg's very own original roasted tomato green been salad or even meg's amazing sesame asparagus. Instead, I went to Straub's (gulp!) and brought Thai pasta salad (blush) in a non-recyclable plastic container (eegads!).

Anyway, on the menu was the most phenomenal barbecue food I've ever consumed. Here you didn't see any Dogs-in-casing orWonder Buns. Nope, this stuff was fresh made, homegrown, and organic. For real.

Bean dip. This rivals any hummus I've ever had. The black beans are Missouri-grown--from the farmer's market! Mixed in are fresh herbs from the host's garden, including chives and such. And also friend's famous "ugly dip": this stuff is just whatever's handy mixed up--tomatoes, onions, olives, corn, etc. Nothing beats fresh salsa.

Grilled curried squashes...

Since mac seems to be the thing to eat lately, we also had homemade mac-and-cheese, perfectly cheesy with swiss and cheddar, perfectly melty, and perfectly browned on the top.

Don't peek underneath because you'll see those Straub's noodles lurking down there.

And then, oh my god, fresh broccoli (from friend's garden), spiced up with herbs (also from the garden!), then grilled! Grilled herbed homegrown broc!

Delicious.

To complete the meal, hostess baked her famous cupcakes. Now these aren't vegan, I guarantee, but they were chocolate and peanut butter and cream cheese. And they came in two sizes!

Never again should "ham salad" or "Lays" be a part of Q talk... this is the way to do it up right. What a Q!!!

Just call me for dinner...

2008-06-25T09:30:00.000-07:00

So I’m not a restaurant reviewer and I’m not an event planner. I do have a job. Really. But the truth is, I eat out a lot. And much of my time is spent planning. And much much of my time is spent planning where to eat. And I’ve got ideas. So maybe, just maybe, I should review restaurants and I should provide people with the answers to their questions. I think maybe I should. In fact, sometimes I do.

Case in point: Friends are coming to town for a concert. One such question posed was, “where do we eat?” with the added stipulation that fine dining wasn’t on the agenda. Just “cheaper food and good drinks.” But of course, I read into this statement, thinking, “you can’t just go to dinner. There’s post show drinks and post-post show drinks, and then if you really do drink that much, you’re gonna wanna have some food along the way too!”

So here was my answer:

Dinner at The Scottish Arms or Newstead Tower Public House. I know that your traditional pubs are more like the O’Connell’s of the world, but I like a pub that has intelligent food. Typically, the Royale would come to mind; but I’m saving that for later, so hang on.

Pluses for The Scottish Arms: mushroom, tomato, goat cheese omelet, black tea (OH MY) scone with marmalade, and french toast with whiskey syrup. Now I understand that you might not eat this for dinner, but if the breaky is good, then I’m sure that the dinner abides, too.

Pluses for NTPH: cheese plate, yum! And other stuff too. Actually, the menu is pretty impressive.
Post-concert drinks at The Royale. Why I like the Royale: the Caprice Salad, the Hummus, among other things. I’ve eaten it all at least thrice. Oh and the drinks, too.

Post-post show drinks at Atomic Cowboy or Mangia.

Pluses for the Atomic Cowboy: vegetarian burrito, chips and guac, roasted veggie and rice bowl (this is actually quite yummy), margaritas, chips and guac again… again, you might not be eating dinner at this point, but still if the food is good, the bar beckons. Right?

And Mangia, sweet Mangia. I like the pastas, the salads, the artichoke hearts, and the late night cocktails.

If you actually make it through this tour (which is totally doable, by the way, assuming you're considering your portions), then post-post-show-drinks food is in order at City Diner. I recommend the veggie eggs benedict, but eat what you will.

So that’s a pretty good tour of the haps in STL, if you’re on a budget and you’re just looking for fun times. Right?

Next up? Tour of red curry. Stay tuned!!!!

St Louis Tea Room (Not the Russian Tea Room)

2008-06-22T11:36:00.000-07:00

Where do you go to lunch with Granny? The St. Louis Tea Room.

There you’ll find house baked
scones (with sprinkles even!),
either plain or peach ginger (dang!), clotted cream, homemade sangria jelly, and lots and lots of teas. Those are the standards.

If it’s your birthday, you get an exploding
mint tea flower… now that’s awesome!

You can also order an artichoke-heart/cream cheese-stuffed portabella mushroom for an appetizer, and for lunch, a variety of sandwiches, salads, soups, and quiches.

I had the garden veggie salad with
sunflower seeds, cheese, tomatoes, cucumbers, etc., plus the vegetarian (I asked!) cream of asparagus soup. And even the salad dressings are house made here… this one was cabernet wine dressing. The veggie of the day was corn soufflé, if you’re into puffed food, and if you are, be sure to order the ambrosia as well!

At various intervals throughout the meal, one of the period-dressed waitresses will read to you from their favorite books; maybe a little Edgar Lee Masters or Edgar Albert Guest. I requested a little Ogden Nash, but apparently, he’s “hard to read”*.

*I have to respectfully disagree on that point, and I leave you with these words by Mr. Nash:

My Dream

This is my dream,
It is my own dream,
I dreamt it.
I dreamt that my hair was kempt.
Then I dreamt that my true love unkempt it.

Easy, right? But maybe it doesn’t go with scones.

Save Me!

2008-06-22T11:04:00.000-07:00

Holy Revival!

Whenever I hear the word revival I inevitably think of some sort of saving—the kind where you have hands laid on you and you writhe a little from the ecstasy. That almost happened to me at Al Green’s Church in Memphis, TN, but my friend saved me from such saving.

This REVIVAL is not so much about hands laying on, but it could be religious. If you’re food obsessed, anyway.

It’s the old King Louie’s, which I never had the pleasure of patronizing, but I can’t imagine anything better than this incarnation anyway.

First, the menu. I love it. I love everything about it. It’s got lots to offer—lots of small plates, cold and hot, salads, snacks, soups, and also entrees. But not snax like chips; rather, it’s nice foodie food. Yes, they do the “new” STL standard mac-and-cheese (and yes, I know that’s so 5 years ago everywhere else in the country… but give us a break, dude, we’re a little slow on the uptake), but they also offer a beet and beet green salad (holy revival!), chilled cucumber and potato soup (holy revival!), a chilled zucchini, tomato, and mozzarella salad (holy revival!) and so on.

There were veggie entrée options, plus pizzas and such, but truly, there were so many yummy sides I didn’t even look at them. This is one of the first places I’ve ever been in STL where I felt like there were choices! I’m a woman, I like my choices, but usually, it’s a pizza, not a choice in these parts. But I didn’t even have to consider the pizzas this time. Wow!

And then friend wanted the bread pudding , and I’m not usually into bread pudding, but I’m kinda off the desserts lately for some reason, so I didn’t argue; however, the dessert menu was equally bountiful, offering spiced nuts, donuts, cake, ice cream, you name it.

This was some sort of brioche, I think, and the top was super crusty, and then it was topped with melty chocolate, not Hershey’s, and wow. Just wow. The bread pudding connoisseur wasn’t thrilled with it, so maybe it was not standard, but I thought it was divine.

The thing I like best about Revival is that it’s in the super industrial area, with literally nothing around, but the patio is this lush oasis filled with flowers and herbs and plants and bamboo and lovely people and yummy smells. And the chef totally spilled the beans on the cucumber soup recipe, too, which is so freaking awesome!! I’m going back without a doubt. I feel a stirring inside, it’s time to be saved, lay those hands on me, people! Amen!

A Good Space, Scape

2008-06-17T11:55:00.000-07:00

Friend and I tried SCAPE, a new restaurant in town (or at least newly refurbed) and it was awesome. It really was. OK I don’t necessarily feel chemistry with Scape, but I really liked the food. Not necessarily love, me and Scape, but like. Definitely a strong like.

The menu, though “eclectic” in the most contrived way possible (coconut-saffron halibut AND mac and cheese were offered), afforded me a variety of options as a vegetarian: a couple of salads, several sides, and a veggie entrée that wasn’t the standard pasta/pizza/risotto/eggplant option. I felt loved, I did!

First, the server brought out a small square of watermelon “compliments of the chef”; we laughed at that—you’re not making me feel special with a square inch of watermelon. But anyway, it’s always fun to have a pre-starter. It had a little finger-hole in it filled with honey and balsamic; the truth was, you couldn’t really taste the topping, but it was nice.

Next: bread course. One was a raisin and grape (how deliciously odd!) focaccia and the other was just standard warm French bread. The spreads were unsalted butter and white bean paste! I heart white bean paste!

Then we ordered two starters: the asparagus salad and the truffle fries. Again, I’m not sure about the mixture of low- and high-culture foods, but if it tastes good, then the shoe fits. Or wait, if the shoe fits, then your menu is OK? Whatever. So the asparagus was cooked then chilled, tossed with radish slices, and coated in a cider champagne vinaigrette. It was totally yummy—really cold and tangy and light. Then the fries: they were standard fries with a hint of truffle/parmesan at the back end. Pretty yummy. For the entrée, it was French-style gnocchi with tomatoes and roasted veggies. Now because of the salmonella scare, we couldn’t order any of the tomato salads, and the entrees subbed sundrieds. The chef, the maitre d’, and the waiter all apologized for this, so those tomatoes in the gnocchi must be phenomenal usually. But even still, this dish was to die for. OK first the gnocchi were nice and tender inside, but had a little bit of a crispy outer texture. They instantly tasted nutty, lemony, and thymey. In fact, my first thought was “this is lemon thyme,” which is a very odd herb. The veggies included the summer squashes, kalamata olives, and sundried tomatoes, and they were so so good—perfectly cooked and seasoned. And it was in a brown butter glaze. I learned something: the dish was not salted at all, from what I could tell. Now I’m not a salter—I hardly use it to season or cook. But with my first bite of the gnocchi, though delicious, I thought “salt”; then I tried again, thinking that there’s no way a chef would put so much thought into a dish and forget to salt it. So I took a bite NOT avoiding the olive this time, and that was the secret! The gnocchi in brown butter were nutty, the sundreids tangy, and the olives salty. It achieved an end of taste balance through vegetable means! Amazing!
Well I raved and ate and shared and called the waiter over to ask the big secret—what was that flavor? He couldn’t tell me, but chef Eric Kelly came out and gave me the whole secret! (Now, that is SO much cooler than Mr. Blackberry with his secret hummus! And you know what? That makes me want to go back. Take note, chefs. Take note.)

Here’s what he does:

He makes a noodle gnocchi (not potato!) from flour, salt, egg, oil, etc. and boils it.
Then he browns whole milk fat at high heat—this makes it taste nutty, and sautés the veggies and gnocchi in there. This gives them their outer crisp.
Then he squeezes lots of fresh lemon juice and sprinkles a handful of fresh parsley on top.
Viola!

Amazing. Truly. All you veggies/non-veggies out there—you have to try this gnocchi. And you know what else? Milk fat aside, the secret is NOT in the chicken stock, my friends!!!!

Know what else besides that? The chef chatted with us for about 10 minutes, then bought us a round of drinks. I mean, that’s how you do it. (Thumbs up, SCAPE).

I was too full for dessert, but we tried a little anyway. We heard that the crepes were to die for, so we ordered the bananas foster crepes. Here’s how they went:

Crepe
Caramelized bananas
Stracciatella gelato, house made

The combination of the eggy crepe, the super sweet and warm bananas, and the cold vanilla/chocolaty gelato was impressive. This guy really knows how to mix flavors, textures, and temperatures.

The review from Sauce was pretty good; in sum, the more casual version of SCAPE is preferable to the past formal menu. And I have to agree: I thoroughly enjoyed my (yes, 3 hour) meal there, the food was better than noteworthy, and the added personal touch from the chef was really cool. Now if they could tone down the Cheesecake Factory décor and educate the waiter about wines just a smidge more, SCAPE would be well on its way to high honors. But even without, the food is really just really good. High five!

Hummus Parade

2008-06-13T09:39:00.001-07:00

Ok this has long been in the making. Me and hummus? We go waaaaay back. We have a solid relationship, really. But like any relationship, we have our ups and downs. Here's a little looky back into our history:

1) Top hummus ever, without a doubt, of course it's in New York City, is from the Hummus Place. Now this one was odd: it was a ring of hummus around the bowl, drizzled with really nice olive oil and topped with some herbs, but also there was a tomato and avocado garnish, as well as an egg! Wha? Dunno. But it was freaking fabulous. I've had it several times now, as it's become part of my NY routine.

2) Blackberry Cafe, St. Louis, MO, will remain 2nd on my list. Best I can figure, this stuff has some eggplant in it, because it's very light and tangy and has a very unusual texture. I asked and asked, but the owner wouldn't spill the (garbanzo) beans of his secret. In fact, he was always kind of a jerk about it, maintaining that I wouldn't frequent the cafe if I could make the hummus myself. Now that's just tarded. But one of the waitresses finally leaked that red wine vinegar was a secret ingredient.... (thanks, girl!).

Unfortunately, no photo is available. And Blackberry closed. I heard rumors that they moved, but I have yet to dine at their new location, which means that it doesn't exist.

3) Let's see, I think I'd put Aya Sofia next. They are truly Mediterranean with their pitas and baba ganouj. I think I liked this one so much because of the curtains, as well as because it came with other dips. Somehow the multitude of ground bean products enhanced the hummus's value
4) I'm not sure this is an accurate ranking order, but that's OK. Suffice it to say that I heart Hummus, and these were photo worthy, so that should say something. So 4 is Schlafly Bottleworks. Now, if they still had their black soybean hummus from several years ago, that baby would earn a 2, if not tie for first, but their regular old chick-pea hummus is good nonetheless. It comes topped with tapenade (which I'm learning to love. I am learning to love tapenade.) and feta and red onions. But the best part are the flat breads and pitas, which for some reason, are freaking amazing. It's all in the bread, some would say!!

5) Ok I gotta give the Royale props. I mean, I've eaten the hummus there are no less than 14 occasions, which is a lot, given my love for their Caprice salad. Theirs is a regular old chickpea hummus, but it's surrounded by pitas with lots of paprika. It's also topped with tapenade and feta, which just really always ups the ante.

Believe it or not, no photo available! Wha? It must be one of those things like how you forget to say hi to your mom at your wedding or something--you know she's there, but you get caught up in the moment. (that didn't happen) (I have no idea what that means)

6) Let's see... of the hummuses I can recall and that I do have photos of, then I'm going to throw the one from Oasis in St. Louis on here next. It's a typical Mediterranean lunch place (although the owner assures me they have lunch, they have dinner, they have breakfast, they have late night, they have wireless, they have wine, they have beer, they have everything, so come over!). This one came with a feast of falafel and Greek salad and other goodies. It was tasty. And tzatziki is just yummy. I mean wow. 7) Next up? I cannot forget my fateful lunch at Stellina, and the lovely hummus with crispy pita and roasted red peppers (and olives) (shhh) (don't tell). It was yummy, we know. We remember, right? I'm hungry... anyone wanna grab some lunch???

8) I also have made several attempts at hummus in my very own home. It shouldn't be hard--chick peas, tahini, garlic, lemon [and red wine vinegar! hahaha hahaha hahaha!], but it never quite does the right thing. I've Italianized it with some herbs, I've added water to loosen it up, I've roasted red peppers and mixed them in, but still, nothing doing. It's edible, but it's not magic. And we all know that we need a little magic to sustain a long-term relationship. Nevertheless, here's one of my attempts:

9) Last on my list is Kaldi's. It's not that their hummus was bad, in fact, their little Mediterranean lunch platter was pretty good, but it's just beans, really, in the end. With some lettuce. I dig it, but someone's gotta bring up the rear.

Well, me and hummus have a long life ahead of us, so we'll see where it takes us. Hopefully it will take us back to NY. Partly because of the hummus, but also just because everything's better in NY. Seriously. But in the mean time, if anyone has any foolproof hummus recipes to share, do it!!

Charity Auction

2008-06-10T14:20:00.000-07:00

Ok so usually you pay a lotta money and you go and you wear fancy clothes and you have engaging small talk conversations with people who golf and vacation on Alaska Cruiselines, and usually usually, the food is meat. You cannot request a veggie dish, there's no box to check on the invitation, you cannot ask the chef to prepare something off menu for you. You just spend the big bucks for a slab of almond encrusted salmon or steak au jus (Ok or your sister pays and you just eat for free). That may rock your world, but not mine, friends, not mine.

This happens at weddings, too. Occasionally you get the veggie bride who has the "check here for veggie dish" box on her RSVP, which totally rocks, but usually you get the standard fare. Friend from HS had a 700-person wedding at the Coronado (we're talkin' millions) and that was the case. I asked the waiter to kindly arrange a dish of whatever sides were available and just leave the boeuf in back, and he obliged, brining me a plate of snap peas!! Hundreds of snap peas!!

But I digress. My point is that I'm used to this; I do not begrudge a charity organization or a wedding for not meeting my food requests; I figure I'm not the purpose for the evening, I'm just a participant, and as such, "I'm easy." right? right. [as a side note, however, even at my own event, the one that begins with a W and ends with an ING, they screwed up the veggie dishes and we were served white rice and brocolli... sad, but true...]

So at the charity event, I waved over the server to request an extra salad, perhpas, and a plate with sides and no meat. I was surprised, however, when she asked me if I'd like the veggie dinner! Wha? Wow!

And it was fabulous. Let me tell you why:

1) salad with a a healthy bed of greens, a really nice cider vinaigrette, and a whole pre-salmonella tomato!!
2) wild rice cake with sauteed mushrooms (lots and lots of mushrooms), baby grape tomatoes, peppers interspersed in the cake, and a lovely creamy mushroom sauce on top. I devoured it!
3) bread, but not just bread, olive bread. I mean, seriously, it's like I'm a freaking stranger. I'm eating olives on my salad, I'm not picking them out of my bread. Someone call the authorities--we're witnessing a change here. A live change. Right here on blogger.

Then dessert: I'm kinda over chocolate lately, which is so weird! I mean, I've harbored a full-fledged chocolate addiction for a good 30 years. I eat it daily. I panic without it. I've had to run out at midnight for a chocolate bar just to calm my nerves. Even my nutritionist thought I shouldn't give it up; it might upset my internal balance. And my doctor gave me strict orders to keep consuming chocolate after I quit smoking; he was afraid of the ill-effects of too many restrictions. But not so much any more (note this, people! The scales are tipping! chocolate 10, olives and berries, 20.) Nevertheless, this was tasty. It was chocolate and raspberry and ice cream. You can't go wrong.

The best part though? The wine was flowing--they kept my glass full to the brim all the way through to the blue teeth.

By the end of the night I was juggling; apples? Oh, golf balls. That was it. Thankfully, there were enough parking attendants to catch my strays and hand them back to me, so no one was wounded. But all in all this charity was all-right.

Late night dining: addendum

2008-06-10T14:16:00.000-07:00

Ok here's what you don't need at 4am: Sugar or a lottery ticket.

But what you DO need is a pizza. And nerds.

Yep.

Freakin’ Jimmy’s. You gotta love it.

2008-06-10T14:13:00.001-07:00

Even carry out from Jimmy’s is to die for. I mean, I think we can build a lasting relationship, me and Jimmy. I never thought I’d fall for a Clayton restaurant, but what can I say? He wooed me with his wily ways with mushrooms and asparagus! He’s educated, he’s successful, he’s handsome…

wait a second!! What? Huh?

Oh, um, anyway, here’s what I got:

Encrusted portabella mushroom: what’s it encrusted with? I dunno, but it’s fabulous.

Grilled asparagus, nice and charred, too.

Orange mash: carrot? Sweet potato? I don’t know. It was almost like a carrot risotto or something, not sweet, but deliciously savory. I couldn’t place the flavors, which is really weird for me, but it was amazing.

Spinach sautéed in garlic and a little soy, I think.

Asiago cheese cracker.

Even in a box, even after having sat in a heat lamp and my car for a good 20-30 minutes, this stuff rocked. This may be the one!!!

Top Ten Meals: Green Zebra

2008-05-31T07:04:00.000-07:00

This one I'll call number 2.
I don't yet have a fully-filled list of ten, probably due to my sprightly young age, but I'm designating my vegetarian chef's tasting menu meal from the Green Zebra in Chicago 2 of 10. It's not that GZ wasn't good enough to be top on my list, it's just that I'm not ready to commit. Let's just say that when it comes to eating, I'm still dating.

Which leaves me another 9 to fill in the rest of my life, so that's something to look forward to!

First course is a white bean spread on whole grain bread. I dig this. I mean, I'm a huge fan of hummus, but how cool is it when they make hummus out of something other than garbanzos? It's almost like a carrot dog, but minus the need for casing....

Second course: salads! Oh and were they ever! At Green Zebra you won't find huge bowls of greens filled with the usual suspects (onions, fruits, nuts); oh no, these were artichoke hearts, big shavings of parmigiana reggiano, peas (what?!), watercress, you name it. These guys went nuts. And it was amazing!

So, we have artichoke heart salad with some greens and some mushrooms and two big shavings of cheese. Wh0oah! And we also have grilled asparagus, on a bed of watercress (delightful!), with the littlest bit of parm melted on it, but lurking beneath is the secret something--a dollop of apple walnut puree.

Next up was the soup course: cream of fennel and cream of arugula. Although both were "cream," neither was heavy. The fennel one was drizzled with fennel oil, and the arugula one was drizzled with truffle oil! Oh my!

Following, a risotto cake with a crusty
cheese cracker and mushrooms, then, the magical morel mushroom dish: peas, shaved parmigiana reggiano, and yes, morels.

You can see that Green Zebra has a lot of repeat ingredients; probably, they use what's in season and what they can get from the local market, and that's what drives their menu. But I don't mind seeing more than one morel or repeat parm... no I do not! I hope they call me when its beet season! Or tomato season! Sweet jebus!

But I digress...

Moving on (yes, we are still eating here), the entrees. The dishes were small, a taste of each, really, but it was still a ton of food. So when the entrees appeared, I really wasn't hungry. at all. Which was good, because like a lot of restaurants that I've tried, it seems the chef expends his/her energy on the small plates and sides, and the entrees can sometimes be so so. These were good, very good, but nothing like the artichoke heart salad or apple walnut asparagus. Anyway, we had eggplant dumplings and asian stirfry. The dumplings were in a red pepper foam, which I know can be controversial (some people really hate the idea of foaming their food!), but I ask you: when it's good and creamy and light and flavorful, what's so wrong with foam? Don't hate on the foam!!

Finally, eegads!, came dessert. Two dishes: one all cherries and one all blueberries. The cherry one had a homemade chocolate ice cream bar with cherry ice cream, house made cherry soda, and candied cherries. The blueberry one was little pancakes with a wild blueberry compote on top. holy berry, batman. This stuff was good. I guess I am a convert. I guess I am.

And that's it. The meal, as you'd expect, took hours. The servers were friendly and offered both a wine flight and a non-alcoholic flight consisting of house-made sodas, teas, and fruit drinks. It was delightful.

Upon leaving, we walked a bit to try to shake off that daze of having consumed so much rich food, and we turned a corner, exiting the little vegetarian oasis in Wicker Park or Bucktown or wherever we were, and a sign, almost from God, appeared to remind us of what we just encountered and how we should never ever take it for granted:

Thanks, Green Zebra. I love you.

Late-night dining

2008-05-28T19:59:00.001-07:00

What do you do when it's 4am, you've closed down Mangia or Atomic Cowboy, and you're hungry? You go to South City diner.

What's on the menu? Well usually, it's vegetarian eggs benedict. You might think it's the chorizo scramble and the biscuits and gravy, especially if you are a meater, but you are wrong. It's not.

No, english muffins, eggs over easy, hollandaise, and two baby black olive slices are where it's at. I promise you.

Unless you're at home, and you've got an organic four-cheese frozen pizza from Trader Joe's in the house, then that's your answer. And do you know why? Because, as the number one ingredient in that frozen pizza assures us, we are living in a "lactic culture." Amen. Again.

grown-up groceries

2008-05-28T19:42:00.001-07:00

Many moons ago, probably in the 90s (didn't everything happen in the 90s?), I ran into a pal at the grocery store. In my basket?

3 totinos party pizzas, meat deluxe (party on, dude, seriously)

5 boxes kraft mac and cheese

10 packs chicken-flavored ramen (10 for $1, remember?)

hamburger helper

tuna helper (oh god)

2 2-liter bottles of soda--one Dr. Pepper and one Pepsi

chips a'hoy! [yes this is an actual list]

and a laundry basket (when you're living on grocery cards from mom and dad, you gotta take advantage!)

Friend had fruits, veggies, fresh basil (what?), bread, milk, chicken breasts, yogurt, etc. Huh?

Even in my mid-90s state, I knew somethin' was funny. The fact that I subsisted on tuna helper just didn't ring totally true with me. But whatevs. Such was life.

Years later, I recall that occurrence. And I show you this:

Yes, I survived my box-food transfat high-fructose years, I lived to tell, and I'm here to stay. Friend, and you know who you are, thanks. Just thanks. I do know how to use basil, and I'm not afraid. Amen, brotha.

beef (and beef), I forgive you

2008-05-23T06:51:00.001-07:00

Friend and I wanted to try a new restaurant in the STL: KOKOs. I haven't tried it yet, because every time I look at the menu, I'm reminded of how meaty it is. But the tagline for KOKO is "pan Latin meets Creole," so there MUST be something I can eat, right? I mean, Pans, Latins, Creoles, they all like beans. They all like rice. They all like tomatoes (I mean, who doesn't heart tomatoes?). But I looked again, just to be sure, and nope, it's pretty meaty. Friend suggested we try another place. But something on the menu caught my eye, and I declined the offer. Under entrees is an option called "beef and beef." Seriously, not just one dead cow, but two. And not even varying kinds of carnage, like I know meaters enjoy, like bacon-wrapped veal or turducken (but that's a convo for another day); no, this was just a double whammy: "Beef and Beef." I took it as a personal challenge. So we went.

Now I'm not opposed to putting up a little bit of a fight with waiters, "so, um... hm... you don't have ANY meat-free dishes?," especially when even the salads have meat in them. But I was feeling generous, gracious, so I did not respond when the waiter politely answered, "nope." He offered the standard off-menu veggie fare, pasta, which is OK, but I wasn't in a noodle mood. Typically, I'd put together a meal of sides, which I actually quite enjoy, but even the sides were pretty meaty, and also, they had pizzas with fresh veggies, so that won me over (they had me at mushrooms).

First course, cornbread muffins with some sort of sweet pepper butter. It was sweet like a honey butter, but it had a little kick to it, plus little red jobbies in there, so I think it was some sort of chile pepper. The muffins were nice and chewy on the outside, but then were moist inside. Plus they had real bits of corn!

Then we had the guacamole and plantain chips. The presentation was a little banana bonanza! Also nice was that they were showered in chili powder so they had a yummy kick. Oh and it was super limey--which was unexpectedly good. The guacamole was the standard avocado mash, a little smoother than you'd expect, which made me a little nervous, because that's how Kraft non-avocado guacamole tastes, but this also had fresh bits of tomato, green pepper, and oddly, green onion in it. So I ceased questioning and instead dug in. I am gracious, right? Right. Plus, it was good.

And the salad: lots of goat, one tomato. (ONE TOMATO). I guess they ran out? It represented, though; it kept it real.

Then came my pizza: housemade crust, mushrooms, tomatoes, artichoke hearts, and peppers. Oh and light on the cheese. It was really yummy--totally didn't skimp on the veggies! I felt kinda dumb eating a pizza at a creole restaurant, but when the beans come with hamhock, I just can't partake. Besides, I do like me a good veggie pie!

Finally, though, was the dessert. It was so good, my photo had to be
all art-schooly (notice the fancy angle). But seriously, it was really just chocolate cake with chocolate icing, but there was this amazing inner layer of fruity cheese--kind of like strawberry cream cheese--which made it extra special. I don't know what's come over me lately--first strawberry churros, then strawberry filling. Next thing I'll be eating just plain old berries for dessert. And who does that? I mean really. Who does that? I don't even recognize myself anymore.

Then after, I felt like coffee, but instead of ordering the
standard after-dinner decaf, I indulged... espresso
martini. And that's the truth. Oh my!

All in all, I had a great time at KOKO. The curtains are fantastic (I am a firm believer that EVERYTHING should be enshrouded in velvet!), which made the atmosphere pretty durn nice. The food was good. And I did not feel the oppression of beef-and-beef once, not once. No one judged; no one stared; it was just dinner. And a pretty nice one at that.

But, gracious though I am, I would quietly, meekly, gently entreat KOKO to consider their roots, remember that a bean without a bacon is as possible as a fish without a bicycle... even today, even in the STL. And maybe next time when I go back, I'll be able to eat black-bean-salsa topped tofu or chili con mushrooms. Maybe!

got lei'd at work!

2008-05-22T16:12:00.001-07:00

It was luau day at work...

Know what they eat at luaus? White rice, buttered broccoli, microwaved carrots, and a PEPSI! MMMmmmmmmmmmmmm! ALOHA!

it gave me the crepes

2008-05-14T15:39:00.000-07:00

I was never a big fan of crepes, partly because I don't heart pancakes, and party because I keep my egg intake to a minimum. And crepes are more or less eggy pancakes. However, in my efforts to expand my horizons and also achieve appropriate levels of daily B12 intake, I ate a crepe.

Well actually, in this instance, it was really more an effort just to get lunch, and Meshuggah, as usual, was out of bagels. So I went to City Coffee and ate a crepe.

It was late in the day—around 3:45 or so—and so I was hungry. Really hungry. I didn’t think much of the fact that the place was more or less empty or that the cooks were mopping the floor. I dunno, mid-day clean up?

Anyway, they have lots of crepes on the menu—sweet, savory, cheesy, meaty, and two veggie ones too! I ordered the roasted veggie (as opposed to the garden veggie, the only real difference I could tell was the roasted red peppers) (but that is a significant difference, my friends. It really is). I ordered a smoothie too, because they use only fresh ingredients and no smoothie mixes. I appreciate that, City Coffee!

And then I sat and waited. I got out my book and read, as you do in coffee houses, and then after about 15 minutes (made to order!), my crepe arrived. It was lovely, really, all big and folded and bursting with veggies—zucchini, artichoke hearts, mushrooms, tomatoes, spinach, mozzarella, and some other stuff too. It was especially nice for these reasons:

it wasn’t overly cheesy. I always appreciate when chefs don’t overdo the cheese, because my lactose won’t tolerate it and because it masks the flava!

it wasn’t overly seasoned. The veggies were more steamed and less roasted, but they were fresh and really perfectly cooked. Yum!

So I’m sitting there eating, thoroughly enjoying my meal, and I notice that the server is sort of leaning on the counter, across the room, watching me. Then I see that the cook is kind of leaned against the counter, watching me, too. But whatever. Perhaps my graceful knife-and-fork etiquette caught their attention. Or maybe they wanted to see if I liked it? Anyway, I get out my camera and I’m taking pictures and I’m reading and sipping and enjoying. But they keep staring. Then I start to hear my chewing. Which means it’s quiet. And I'm trying to think of why they are watching me eat.

And then I notice the sign on the door that says they close at 4:00.

Ah! So that was the end of my crepe. I enjoyed it. But the staring was weird. Why didn't they let me eat in peace? or they could have said, "yes you can have a crepe, and you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here." or something. Whatever it was, it was unnerving. It creped me out. But it was pretty good, though.

Tales of Meat Stock

2008-05-10T23:30:00.000-07:00

Make no mistake: barley and roasted vegetables does not = vegetarian.

The consolation prize? Chilled green beans in a cider vinaigrette. Not bad, not bad. Kinda sweet and tangy and garlicy and very crunchy. Yum!!!

Oh, and peach-infused hefeweizen (with a lemon wedge!). Gotta get my fruits for the day!

Let my people go!

2008-05-09T12:48:00.000-07:00

Dear Chicken Stock,

Must you always have your way with me? Must you wrap your dirty bone- and muscle-filled little tendrils around my vulnerable vegetarian soul? Can’t you just leave me in peace, existing with my veggie stock and just plain H20? I must beg and plead, from the bottom of my free-range heart, please just let me be.

Sincerely yours,
Meg, Vegetarian, Foodie, and Lover of all things Animal (except not to eat)

So friend invites me over for dinner. We’re having salad and asparagus risotto. She is quite familiar with my food needs, and assures me that all is a go!

So she’s stirring, I’m sitting and sipping, and third friend is standing and chatting. Friend three comments on friend two’s amazing kitchen abilities, and sighs, “boy, I wouldn’t even THINK to keep chicken stock in my house.”

Convo continues….

But then my ears catch that word, “CHICKEN STOCK,” and I start to lean over in my stool. I’m leaning, I’m leaning, trying to catch a glimpse of the image on friend two’s container (is it a chicken? Is it a carrot?) (and which came first, by the way?) and finally friend three starts leaning too, trying to see what the heck all the leaning is for. Friend two finally pauses her stirring, her attention caught by all the leaning, and suddenly says, “DOH!”

But, being the excellent foodie and hostess she is, she keeps a tiny container of veggie stock on hand (I like to think it’s just for me) and starts me my own pot. Aw shucks. I’ve got the best friends.

It was delicious.

She also made this really fab plated salad which consisted of romaine lettuce, blue cheese (DOH AGAIN!) (But I subbed feta), red onions, and a fantastic white balsamic vinaigrette. White balsamic is almost fruity, like an apple or something, and is just to die for.

So the day was saved. But seriously. What is this beast, this monster, this behemoth CS doing to me? LET MY PEOPLE GO!!!!

Smitten...

2008-05-08T15:24:00.000-07:00

While I was driving out in east jebus this afternoon picking up supplies for a work event, I suddenly was overcome with… yes! hunger! (ooh hunger!)

But all I saw was Hardees, McDonalds, Wraps, Pockets, Frieds, Mexicans, Drive Thrus, Meat Patties, etc. Nothing appealed.

But then I passed a place that intrigued so I popped in. Great Harvest was the name, and it’s clearly a bakery that offers a few lunch items (mainly sandwiches). I was thinking to myself, “I don’t really want a sandwich and I don’t want to eat a muffin or a cookie. Hm. You know what would be good? Just a slice of whole grain bread or somethin’.”

Then this character says, “hey there! want a free slice of bread?”

Amazing!

So I go to the counter and he shows me 6 (SIX!) loaves of bread—9 grain, honey whole wheat, challah, raisin cinnamon, delicious, and fantastic. I chose the 9 grain and he slices me a big thick piece. Then he points towards this pound of butter and a honey bear. I don’t usually partake of real butter, but this was melty and looked perfect, plus it was housed in a mosquito net (how quaint!) so I slathered. I did! And I added some honey, too, just for good measure (sorry, vegan friends).

OH boy. This was fresh baked and soft yet whole grainy, too. The butter and the honey made it really special. I’m not converting, but when in east jebus, you know….

So as I have my mouth full and I’m sticky with honey, the owner, Lou, is chatting away. He asks me my name (“methah” is what I get out) and then he takes me on the full tour. Everything is natural, everything you can pronounce and spell, and every day, every day, they grind their own whole wheat flour. In the back of the store! He and his wife Jean!

So he shows me the lunch menu and then he shows me the big loaves then he shows me the small loaves (for the singles and the elderly) and then he shows me the rotating bread menu for the month of May. Armed with papers, I end up buying a small loaf of high fiber bread, (it will really clean me out) which is a good source of omega threes from the flax seeds. I can pronounce that!
So I ask him if other Great Harvests exist in STL and he says only in St. Charles. I say, “hm. I live in the city,” meaning, neither one is close to me. But as Lou astutely points out, east jebus is closer to me than the other. True, indeed.

As I leave Lou tells everyone that “Meghan’s leaving” and they all shout goodbye and wave. Then I almost get run over by one of his elderly’s in the parking lot, but that’s OK. I mean, we all need our good carbs. What are you gonna do?

Pretty good. Pretty pretty good.

2008-04-24T12:39:00.001-07:00

I grew up in a family of meaters, and most of them still eat meat. But I have to say, they really do accomodate my special needs!

Awww shucks, fam. You're the best. I've got it pretty preeeeeeeeeeetty good.

Mangia!

2008-04-21T17:15:00.000-07:00

I like Mangia. It's good for drinks, it's good for a night out, it's good for HOT JAZZ, it's good for debauchery, it's good for red wine, it's good for good times, it's good for being hip and seen, it's good for being intimate and private, it's good for pasta, it's good for salad, it's good for dessert. Evidently, it's also good for 20-somethings to get smashed and yak all over the bathroom, but I don't take that as a reflection of the eats.

No indeed, I ate there for dinner a few days ago and it was fantastic.

For starters, I had a salad. The menu, I have to say, blew my mind: 9 salads to choose from. I mean, now that's options! There were salads with tomatoes, salads with figs, salads with bleu, and others, too. But the one that stood out to me was the Honey Artichoke Salad.

First off, it was a healthy bed of greens. I get tired of "salads" that are just a snippet of this and some of that and a few twigs of frisee. I mean, I want to get my greens in for the day. But brace yourselves, folks, because I ate some olives, too! There were a bunch of warm artichoke hearts on the top, and they must have been tossed in a honey vinaigrette, because they were really sweet and viniagry. And there were also a lot of sweet red peppers; they must have been honeyed too, because they were super sweet. But lurking underneath were slices of kalamata olives--whoa baby! And I ate them! Somehow, the salty was really nice with the sweet of the other veggies. Crazy, right. Yah. Nuts. You can count on Mangia for getting you to eat (hence, mangia, haha. sorry. that was terrible).

Then I had the porcini tagliatelle. It's mostly house-made mushroom noodles with a sundried tomato cream sauce on top. But I needed to get my other veggies for the day, so I asked the chef to toss in whatever they had in the back. Whoa.

Fresh spinach, sugar snap peas, and delicious little slices of mushrooms that almost competed with the ones I feel for at Stellina. I don't know what these pasta chefs do to their mushrooms, but it's fantastic!

Ok so I mostly ate out the veggies and left the creamy noodles, but yum anyway. Let's mangia!

Simple pleasures

2008-04-21T17:09:00.000-07:00

So I was sitting in my office today, eating my apple and banana, when one of my students popped in and brought me a slice of pineapple Domino's Pizza... awwww! It almost makes working worthwhile! I spied a little piece of pepperoni on it, but don't worry, I picked it off.

It all depends on whether it's TIME for tea or not...

2008-04-18T14:48:00.001-07:00

Ok so I don’t know everything.

I’m in Chicago, and I see this restaurant, one that I’ve passed by ONE MILLION times on the way to the Art Institute, and a little voice in my head whispers, “Russian tea room… Russian tea room… russiantearoom… RUSSIANTEAROOM!!!!! You've always wanted to go to the RUSSIAN TEA ROOM!!”

And I say, “huh. Let’s go to that Russian Tea Room restaurant."

And so we did.

It looked a little funny inside, but whatever, right? It’s the Russian Tea Room!!! So I check out the menu and wow, the food looks freaking amazing! It’s a vegetarian Russian bonanza!!! Vegetarian borscht (whoah!) and puff pockets stuffed with sweet and savory fillings and they even have a vegetarian tasting menu--sweet potato, people, this place is amazing! I’m having a ball. The waitress, who is undoubtedly Russian-born, even if she hasn't got an accent, I swear is practically doing a folk dance in the corner. This place is a little slice of Eastern European heaven!

We start with the classic Russian Tea (it's tea time after all), which is a Ceylon infused with black currants... Ok so I don't drink caffeine, and they don't tell me how strong this stuff is. I down several glasses (I mean they even have these cute little tea mugs and brown sugar cubes! This place is made for me!!) and I am flying. Crazy. Everything starts moving faster and therefore it's even awesomer and Russianer. Seriously.

First, the brown bread comes out. It is so brown—seriously, it’s fantastic. It’s heavy and nutty and browny and goodness. It's like straight out of the Russian countryside or something.

Then we order the asparagus vareniky, which are dough pockets stuffed with asparagus, feta, and red pepper, and are drizzled with a lemon basil sauce. Wow. You can never go wrong with an asparagus/feta combo, but when you add in some Russian, it's even more fantastik. Look at me with my spelling!

I think about calling myself Megolekavitch, just for fun.

Then we get the pumpkin piroshki, which are pastry puffs filled with pumpkin and cinnamon and onions. Holy pumpkin, this place rocks. We're in a Russian Oasis. I mean, the people that work there don't really look Russian... and the music is kind of, well, KHits 96, and it seems like all the customers are from small town Missouri wearing their pedal pushers and socks with sandals? I dunno. Whatever. Because the borscht came next.

Red beets, cabbage, tomatoes, onions, carrots, potatoes, and not even any chicken stock slipped in (I asked!)... it was life altering. I vowed to go to Russia, even though I figured I had just experienced it first hand, pretty much.

I mean, wow.

It shifted my world-view.

That is, until I'm recounting this tale to a friend, and friend kindly points out that the Russian Tea Room is in NEW YORK CITY.

Uh..... wha? huh? I mean, I was there! I ate borscht! Hot, Ukranian Borscht! At Russian Tea... Time! Oh shit! I was at the wrong place! I was tricked! Had! Tom Fooled!

Needless to say, when I came down of my Russian tea high--if it was even Russian--I was sorely disappointed.

But I got a little surprise when I was in New York recently!

Staying with best friend and she wakes me up early and says we have to get up and get on the train! There's a surprise!!! Woot!

She won't tell me what it is or give me hints, she only let's on that we can't wear jeans and we can't be late for a reservation...

So we walk and walk and train and train and walk and walk and and train and train and walk and turn a corner...

and you know what was there?! The Russian Tea Room! In all its authentic glory!!! We've got an 11am date for brunch!

So we go in and wow. What a difference. First, this place is gold. and clean. and is that a Russian accent I detect coming from the hostess? and those are what? authentic, original Marc Chagall oils on the wall?

Well, we set to work checking out the menu. The menu is golden embellished, people. I've never seen such a nice menu.

Well as it turns out, brunch in the authentic Russia is kind of more like brunch in the authentic US... but if there's one thing I know about Russians, they ain't foolin'. OK so eggs Florentine are a little closer to Italy than the Ukraine, but nevertheless, they were touched by the hand of goodness. And the brown bread was a whole grain bread! It was so delicious! I heart it, even with butter. And though I couldn't eat the borscht, because it was a beef borscht, friend quite enjoyed it. And what I got, apparently the hottest thing in today's Russia, is a pumpkin granola dish. Oh my. It was enough to make you exclaim in joy! It was cooked pumpkin and squash, smashed and very buttery, warmed up to the perfect temperature, then topped with piles of homemade oats and granola and raisins. and cinnamon It was to die for.

Somehow it was both sweet and buttery and savory and crunchy and creamy all at once. It was a little confusing to the palate, I have to admit; but the kind of confusion that is like falling in love. The floating and the falling and the explosions all at once.

And the tea, at the Russian Tea ROOM, was mind-blowing. Not in the overly-caffeined way, like the black currant freak out I had in Chicago, but kind of earthy and Russian countryside (but for real this time) and fruity. As mixins, you get not only sugar, but also sugary cherries to pop! Sweet Tea this stuff was good!

Finally, after finishing brunch, ticking "go to the Russian Tea ROOM" off my life's list of to-dos, the Russian manager took us on a tour of the 4-storey restaurant. The basement boasts a stunning Fabergé egg collection. The first floor, the restaurant part, is styled in a lovely red and golden decor. But then the top floors are what really get your attention. Yes the are beautifully gilded and mosaiced and decorated, but also there's this guy: a 15-foot tall glass bear filled with live goldfish. Wow. Nuts.

So in the end, what's the difference? Well for one, RTR is the real deal. I mean, this place is faaancy, and the food is amazing, and the people are so friendly you can't believe it. RTT, on the other hand, has more vegetarian options, but the patrons are tourists on their way to Michigan Ave. They, like me, probably think they're at the Russian Tea Room, but they are not, folks. And do you know why? Because that's in New York City.

The truth of the matter

2008-04-18T08:28:00.001-07:00

Someone just sent me this Ecard...

When in Spain....

2008-04-16T18:10:00.001-07:00

Ok I wasn't in Spain. I wasn't even in an authentic Latin restaurant. No, I was just meeting lawyer friend in Clayton, at BARcelona, where other lawyer-types wear tight jeans and look rich. (They capitalize BAR to let you know that they serve booze, too.) But what else they do is partake of rich, fatty, delicious, greasy foods. That's just what you do in Barcelona.

It was happy hour at this young professional meat market, so sangria was on special. But it tasted like 7up with cheap box wine to me, so I skipped it and went straight for the Rioja. Dang, though, a good Spanish red is taaasty!

Now BARcelona offers some healthier options (translate, more veggie, less fat), like spinach with lemon and tomatoes or saffron cauliflower with pine nuts, and both are mighty fine, but I thought, "screw it. I'm about to enter into this profession, so I might as well let 'er rip tonight..." So I just went for it. I know, right? I won't eat fries, but I'll eat a churro... so sue me.

I did the "salad" to take a stab at healthy, but the truth was, it was a cheese/ranch dressing fest. But what can I say? It was kinda yummy! Manchego = yay!

For dinner, esquire and I split the grilled asparagus and the empanadas. Let me tell you a little story about empanadas: these babies are filled with mushrooms, spinach, cheese, and goodness. They are steaming hot, first off, and just out of the fryer. Not usually a draw for me, but it makes the pastry so perfectly crispy and chewy all at once, it's worth it. The sauce is a cumin-garlic aioli. I'm not sure what makes it orange (tomato?), but it's flipping amazing. It's creamy and spicy and sweet and tangy. Those alone make you want to weep. Ok so maybe I'm fry-deprived, never allowing myself to partake; and maybe if I joined my coworkers on fry day once in a while, these little pockets wouldn't have been able to have their way with me so easily. But they did! And I loved it!

But what made the whole meal a shining moment in my history of food consumption, however, was really back to my true nature: the asparagus. There is something beautiful that happens when you grill asparagus. I mean, you can never go wrong with asparagus anyway. But grilled, it gets slightly charred, soft on one side, crunchy on the other, slightly carcinogenic, very tasty, and it kicks it up a serious notch. To top it with a rich tomato sauce, both sweet and savory, and garnish with manchego though, my friends, is just divine.

Then the finale: churros. I haven't seen these since my college cafeteria days. Once a month was "churro day" and big buckets would be put out by the cash registers filled with all flavors of churros. Well dinner friend wanted them, so I obliged. I mean, I'm easy, right? (I really should check the website for the nutritional value of these suckers...)

Anyway, they were caramel and strawberry filled. Wow. The cinnamon alone is enough to make my heart swell (and the grease to make my arteries swell...) but the fruit flavor was incredible. I have abeen a die-hard chocolate/cinnamon pop-tart fan; you couldn't have forced a strawberry pop tart on me for any reason when I was a kid. But now I see the light! There is beauty in fruit-filled desserts! Ok and they were smothered in chocolate sauce, but the fruit + chocolate sauce was, just, wow.

So I neither got charmed nor severely repelled by the lawyer types at BARcelona. No one ever likes a meat-market, and I'm especially sensitive to them being a feminist and a vegetarian, but if I had to go out, and I had to be with those types, and I had to have tapas, and I had to be in Clayton, and I had to eat fried food, I guess there's no other place than this little corner of Spain... or maybe I'm just secretly in love with fatty foods. Dang.

A Vegetarian Assault

2008-04-15T20:37:00.000-07:00

Someone slipped me a mickey at work….

Ok well it wasn't a drug, but it was still enough to stun. Plus I thought about vomiting. If only in protest.

This lady I work with is a little, well, hm… Anyway, that’s beside the point. What happened is that we were having our monthly pot luck. Everyone knows I am a vegetarian; it’s a novelty around here. They treat me like an albino or a bearded lady. They like to look and talk about me when I’m standing in front of them, as if I don’t hear it. Sometimes they like to touch.

So when pot lucks come around, there’s always talk of my food choices and what I will and won’t eat. And the truth is, I kind of use it to my advantage; I mean, I can eat fruit salad, of course, but when I know it’s bathed in jell-o or miracle whip or sugar or who knows what, I’d rather not. So I just say, “oh I’m sorry! I can’t eat that. I’ll just munch on this banana I brought from home.”

So it’s our Mardi Gras-themed lunch meeting pot luck and I wait until most of the crowd has gone through the line before joining them. This gives me a little more freedom to pick out what I can eat without someone getting their feelings hurt that I skipped their Schnucks trans-fats cake or their mini-Ritz-cracker pizzas.

But I digress. Here’s how the incident went:

Co-worker: “Hey Meghan, I made this awesome broccoli slaw! You’ll love it! I made it just for you!
Meg: “Oh YUM! It’s vegetarian, right?”
CW: “YUP! Just some, you know, broccoli and stuff.”
M: eating.
M: eating.
Pause.
CW: “You know what’s in there? CHICKEN! Ha ha! I used a pack of chicken-flavored Ramen noodles for the spices! I didn’t tell you because I know you wouldn’t eat it then! Ha ha!”
M: “OH MY! No, I’m sorry, I can’t eat this. I don’t eat meat. Any meat. Ever.”
CW: “But it’s just a powder! You didn’t even know it was in there!”
M: “No, I’m sorry. I can’t. It’s not you, it’s me.” Apology apology, etc. and so on.
CW: feelings hurt.

Wait, did you catch that? Feelings hurt.

COME ON!

…it wasn’t until hours later that I realized she’d planned the whole trickery! The NERVE!

I’m now just awaiting my moment to slip some saturated fatty bacon onto her burger… wait that won’t work. OK then some cholesterol-laden butter onto her bread. Grr… no… Um maybe some aspartame-filled Sweet n’ Low into her tea? Oh well. There is no retaliation possible. I’ll just have to become a vegetarian martyr, having taken one for the team! But another thing occurs to me... since when are Ramen Noodles a spice? Oh what is this world coming too? Screw it! Forget everything! I'm goin' to macdonald!

If it looks like a dog and smells like a dog…

2008-04-14T14:43:00.001-07:00

Best friend from New York had a hot dog birthday party. I figured I’d eat before I went. I mean, what are the chances that a hot dog stand has tofu dawgs? And I had to be there—I’d traveled hundreds of miles to celebrate the big milestone that is, well, 31. And remember, I’m easy.

Well we get to the joint, Murray’s Dogs, and everyone is gathered. They’re ordering chili dogs and double dogs and baseball park dogs and dogs on a stick. I dunno. Whatever dog people do with their dogs, they were doing it—kraut, mustard, onions, etc. But this Murray, he’s something else! He not only offered a tofu dawg on the menu, but also a “marinated carrot.”

I said, “Sweet! They don’t even force fake meat products on us near-vegans when we’re at a hot dog stand!!! I love New York! Everything’s better in New York! New York New York New York New York!”

So I order the “Sophie” which is the marinated carrot on housebaked whole wheat challah roll with cheddar cheese and avocado. Wow. This is some hot dog stand! (see refrain above: I love New York, etc. and so on.)

I get my dawg, excited to be honored by this creative workaround, but also secretly relieved that I’m not adding one more reason for these carnivorous chic New Yorkers to look strangely at the corn-fed Midwestern “bestest friend” of the birthday girl. I mean, a girl can only take so much. I looked like I was eating a dog, so that took a load off.

And I take a bite. Wow. Huh? What is this thing again? It tastes…. hm. It tastes… It tastes…. hm. It tastes…. what is that flavor? I ask Murray. His wife came up with the marinade: hot dog spices.

So they took a carrot, left it full and intact in all its dog-shaped glory, and soaked it in whatever it is that makes stuffed intestines taste like they do.

Oh my.

I didn’t finish my dawg because it kind of creeped me out. I love the idea of using veggies rather than fake meat products to make a hot dog, but I don’t know; something about the words “casing” and “curing” just kind of make my skin crawl. The New Yorkers, as it turned out, found the giant carrot to be a novelty, and thought it was great fun to taste a hot-dog flavored carrot!!!

I high-five Murray for his creative genius, fo sho. But seriously, that shit is weird!!!

Blind Date with Organic Pasta House

2008-04-13T13:32:00.000-07:00

I had a blind date with an organic pasta house yesterday. I had caught glimpses of it before, but it was elusive; a southside haunt that I just hadn't ventured into yet: Stellina. It's an odd place; it's hard to pin down. That's one reason I've never embraced it before. It looks and feels like a coffee shop, but the food is faaaan-cy! [note--these photos are swiped from their website...]

Unsure of what I was in for, I didn't actually order their pasta. I played it safe with a salad; it was lunch, after all, and I had a long afternoon of work ahead of me. And the gym. And a night out. I just wasn't in a place in my life where I could handle a big lump of heavy food in my belly.

First things first, though: Oh holy hummus. This stuff was pretty darn good. I haven't decided how committed I am to it yet, but I'd put it in my top 5, up there with the former Blackberry and the Hummus Place in NYC. It was creamy, first off. I can't figure out how they make hummus creamy; I've blended, added oil, added water, gone light on the tahini, but I dunno. This stuff was good. But what makes or breaks a hummus, I've realized, is the accompanying bread. This place offered the standard pita, but it was toasted on a panini grill, so those nice little ridges were there. Plus it was salty. And then on the side was a pile of olives. My fellow lunchers teased me about not partaking, but I snagged a few roasted red peppers and that was taaaaaaasty!!!The house salad didn't have a hard time winning me over; it had me at "beets." Here's what's in it:

Mixed greens, beets, garbanzo beans, feta cheese, red onion, kalamata olives, sunflower seeds, balsamic vinaigrette.

Ok so it doesn't sound mind-blowing, but again, it's lunch, I've never been here before, you know, I'm chill, I'm playing it cool. But dang, it was good! Dressing was light, definitely balsamicy, but not too salty or tart. Not too over-
whelming. It's been a long time sincce I put seeds or beans in my salad, so that was a fun addition. But the best part, the best part, the part that intrigued me from first glance at the menu, were those little roasted beets. They were dark red and the perfect texture and surprisingly, they tasted like vanilla. I don't know if that was on purpose or just the stars aligning, but wow. But I'm getting off on a tangent.

The real story is the pasta. Again, like I said, I didn't order it. I don't even remember everything that was in it, and I can't look it up because it was a daily special. I don't even think I took a picture of it! But I did steal glances; I did surreptitiously ogle it from afar. I did feel a fluttering. And I did, yes I did get to try my neighbor's and sweet jesus, this stuff was good. It was a whole wheat house-made pasta with hidden gems of fresh mozzarella, just barely melty, and asparagus that was probably roasted or maybe sauteed, and the kicker: shitakes. These were magical mushrooms. They were most certainly the aphrodisiac of the dish, as their wooing was relentless after just one taste. They lingered on for a long while.

So needless to say, I'm intrigued; I'll have to go back. I'd like to try another date with Stellina in a more intimate setting. Perhaps in the evening. Perhaps with a nice glass of wine... this time with the freedom to really explore its personality and charm. I mean, I already know we share beets, mushrooms, and hummus in common; now we just have to see what the future holds for us!!! Cheers to my matchmaker!

bar food

2008-04-07T16:41:00.000-07:00

I love a bar that loves a good tomato. The Royale has a delicious Italian Caprice salad on the menu--fresh little grape tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, basil, and an amazing balsamic. It's mighty fine. I especially love that my local bar isn't big on bar food. In fact, the owner is polling customers for food requests. I had a few thoughts, in passing. Here they are:

Dear The Royale,

Thank you, as always, for considering the desires of your patrons. I love your food as it is, and I’m not trying to change it. But since you asked, here goes:

Generally, I love to see several veggie sides on menus so that as a vegetarian, I can avoid the cheese pizza/salad dinner. Some of my favorites are beets, sweet potatoes, Brussels sprouts (although I realize these are fall veggies). For the summer months, asparagus, tomatoes, corn, salads, and cucumbers are really nice. But if you wanted to branch out, I always high-five a restaurant that offers a delicious vegetarian entrée option as well!

More specifically, in light of your outdoor grill, here are some thoughts off the top of my head:

1. For a side, what about grilled asparagus (yum!) but instead of merely buttering, you could toss it in a sesame seed / sesame oil sauce? or you could pair it with dried cherries and goat cheese? Wow!

2. Or even the really simple standard grilled portabella mushroom burger? You could serve it on grilled focaccia with fresh tomatoes and lettuce, maybe, and sweet potato fries on the side. Or you could Asian it up by marinating it in some soy sauce, topping it with an Asian slaw made from sprouts, julienned carrots, snap peas, and peanuts, and accompanying it with green beans. Yum!

3. Still taking advantage of the grill, how about grilled pears in a chocolate ganache for dessert? This dish would be seriously hindered by bacon flavor, however, so that’s something to consider when grilling.

4. More grilled stuff: grilled fennel sounds divine, but I have no idea what you’d do with it. Ask your chef!

Other entrée ideas:

5. You can’t go wrong with black beans in the summer. Some sort of black bean and mushroom dish? Like a layered tort or tart or something with beans, mushrooms, sweet potatoes... corn? I dunno! But delish!

And finally, my dear The Royale, as long as you and I are sharing, I have to say that you can never have too many salads.

6. I love the goat cheese salad you offer, and the new caprice is amazing… keep those for sure. But maybe for the summer do you know what would be yummy? A salad with awesome in-season tomatoes and cucumbers and some walnuts and fresh dill and a really light vinaigrette. This may sound dullsville, but if you had a garden out back and grew your own tomatoes and cucumbers and dill, it would be delightful! I promise! Or you could do a salad with figs and buy them at the local Tower Grove Park Farmer’s Market from the Bulgarian fig guy. Holy fig!

7. A different kind of salad could be a green bean salad, tossed with roasted tomatoes, feta, and balsamic vinaigrette. You just can’t go wrong with tomatoes in the summer. Or green beans. Or balsamic. Zoinks!

8. One last thought: What if you took those those lovely raviolis that you make and stuff them with a new flavor for the summer... like chard and apples? or like maybe leeks and pears? I don't know, but I trust in you!

But whatever. You know. It's just food... bwa-hahaha-hahaha-hahaha!

Thanks, The Royale! Call me when dinner's on! :)

I fell in love with my dinner last night.

2008-04-07T15:58:00.000-07:00

That’s a bold statement, indeed. But in my lifetime, I have known lots of food. I have loved lots of food. Thankfully, due to the fact that my stomach is made of steel, I have not loved and then lost lots of food. Or if I have, I’ve gotten over it. Eventually. And in all those experiences of loving and knowing and not losing food, I’ve of course tallied many delightful encounters. But this one last night was something special.
I’ve been to this restaurant before: Jimmy’s on the Park. In fact, I frequently lunch there, when I’m not lunching at Schlafly. And last night was just a night; no special occasion, no cause for celebration, no reason to reward good behavior with fancy food, no reason to wear an extra dab of perfume or get a pedicure. Just Sunday dinner with Mom and Dad. Mom didn’t feel like cooking vegetables without butter for me and so we went out. But were we in for it…

First, let’s set the stage for this romance: the weather was absolutely gorgeous—70 degrees and sunny. It had been raining and raining for weeks, and then before that was winter, of course, so this was our first beautiful day. We considered eating outside, but the umbrellas weren’t on the patio tables yet and parents didn’t want to squint. Dad wanted to go home and fetch his table umbrella for their patio table, but the maître d' made a funny face when he said that, so I suggested we eat inside. We were the only people inside, but actually, it was quite nice. Since there was a big crowd on the patio, we still felt like we were in a bustling environment, but instead of it being loud and crowded, it was quite intimate. And the sun was shining right on the table for the duration, so we still got to take advantage of the spring day.

The menu boasted a very impressive looking vegetarian menu item; of course I was intrigued, and of course of course, I was pleased that this restaurant didn’t try to offer me eggplant parmesan. But I didn't order it. Why didn’t I order the impressive and unusual vegetarian menu option you ask? I don’t know. I guess I had not yet been wooed. Plus I felt like a salad and I couldn’t justify an entrée and two sides. Maybe it was the siren song of spinach… But also, I like being a person that subsists solely on sides. I think that says something about me. Hm…. I’m going to have to put philosophizing on my list of to dos for later so I can figure that one out.

Anyway, I ordered one to share and two for me. The one to share was flash-fried spinach. Jimmy’s calls this their specialty, and boy they really do it right! I’ve had it before where it’s kind of dried and crumbly and you don’t know if you’re eating an overfried leaf or potato or just some gunk from the side of the fry bin. But not this one: these were huge, glorious, fresh spinach leaves still intact and bright green and slightly crispy. They tossed them with olive oil, lemon, and parmesan cheese before serving, which made them really tasty. We tore into this plate like you’ve never seen three grown, respectable people do before, and I was grateful that we were alone in the restaurant, because boy, we were on fire!

Then I ordered a salad and gnocchi. Most of the salads they offered were pretty blah, but on the café menu there was a true gem: pear salad. It was arugula and some red and green leaf lettuce, poached pears, candied walnuts, and gorgonzola. Well, I don’t eat blue, so they subbed feta. Perfect. When it arrived, it looked tasty, but whatever, right? Greens, feta, nuts. The same old salad story.
But this was so not bad! So not bad! Not bad at all! In fact, this was a little magic! The lettuce was really nice and fresh and not too cold like it can be sometimes. The nuts were so fresh too, nicely toasted and just barely coated in a little brown sugar/cinnamon/spice glaze; their texture was so light and crispy and not crunchy or chewy at all. But those pears—OHMYGOD. They were dark red like beets and had obviously spent some time in cahoots with a really nice red wine. They were tangy and sweet and peary and tart and, well, winey and delicious. Unlike the lettuce, they were ice cold, which was a really interesting contrast. And it was all tossed in a raspberry vinaigrette, but no too sweet or too strong, just a very subtle red sweetness. I mean, this salad was really looking for love!!

Needless to say, after the spinach and the salad, and after the fresh
bread dipped in house-made herb-infused olive oil, and after the fettuccini sticks coated with cajun spices, and after 2 glasses of a fabulous red zin, I wasn’t really hungry. But gnocchi came a knockin’ and so I answered.

Now, having loved and been heartbroken over some seriously good gnocchi in Chicago, I was wary: I asked the waiter if the gnocchi was vegetarian, if it had any chicken stock in it, if it harbored any secrets at all. I just didn’t think I could take another chicken stock led down. He “was pretty sure it was vegetarian,” but I said, “listen dude; I need you to be fully committed to this.” And he agreed to ask the chef. The chef concurred, so that’s what I picked.

This gnocchi was hand-made with fresh herbs and was topped with a wild mushroom ragout in a cream sauce. Delicious. These mushrooms were so flipping good—they were nice and meaty (but not like olives) (or meat) and wild and forresty and amazing. The surprise twists were these: the gnocchi must have been baked topped with breadcrumbs, because the sides of some of them were nice and breadcrumby and crunchy. Odd surprise, but oh so yummy! And then the plate was garnished with a smoky tomato sauce. It was unlike any tomato sauce I’ve ever had—nice and fresh and tomatoey but the smoky was really interesting; it was maybe chipotle or something? Dunno. Something tall, dark, and handsome anyway…. yum!

So I’m blabbering. Obviously I’m infatuated. My heart is pounding and I feel a fluttering inside. Let me just tell you about the vegetarian menu option that looked so intriguing (Mom actually ordered it!). This thing was some sort of crazy veggie bonanza. Called a veggie stack, it was just that. But the mix of veggies and flavors was so strange and delicious!

First layer was ginger-flavored spaghetti squash. Wow. Then it was topped with an artichoke-heart-potato-rosemary cake that was nice and creamy inside, but seared to a crisp outside. Uh huh! Then the next level was a nice big chunky grilled portabella mushroom that appeared to have been marinated in red wine. For real? Then steamed spinach. Oh my! On the side, grilled asparagus spears—nice and firm but deliciously charred. Come on, now! And all of this was garnished with that same smoky tomato sauce. Yeah Baby!!!!! This was some feat, putting this insanity on one little white plate. It was shockingly good. It almost made me wish I hadn’t gotten just sides…

But parents shared and we all tasted everything. Well, I
didn’t eat the 10oz pork steak or the bacon potatoes that
Dad ordered, but I did taste his yummy side of apple
cider-braised red cabbage. Anyway. Oh my. I think this
is the one. I can feel the stars aligning. It’s most certainly love.