If You Go to San Francisco, Skip the Flower in Your Hair

Lesson One: I’m so East Coast.

Upon landing on the coast the Thursday after taking my last final of my undergraduate student roughly four weeks ago, I was greeted by a sea of dungarees, v-neck tee shirts and people who were just… friendly in a way no one is in New York.  My BlackBerry’s battery died somewhere over Oklahoma because it found a way to turn itself back on (my BlackBerry has a mind of its own; this shouldn’t surprise me because every device I own has a mind of its own) and then proceeded to drain its battery before we landed.  When I landed in San Francisco, I had no way of calling Kevin, my younger cousin who I was visiting, because I left my calling card (don’t judge) home and didn’t have any coins.  Fortunately, the silver lining in my bag not making it on my flight since I didn’t think I would actually make it on my connecting flight in Atlanta was that the nice lady at the Delta luggage counter let me use her phone to call Kevin.

Lesson Two: They Have Wine on Tap

After getting to Kevin’s apartment, located just off the Embarcadero, we went straight to dinner at the Hillstone Restaurant located a block from where he lived.  Hillstone is a chain of restaurants located across the country; they also own Houston Steakhouses and one of my favorite places, The Palm Beach Grill.  Plus, all their restaurants seem to all have the the Roast Beef Au Jus on their menus, and it is the only thing I ever order at the Grill.

Following the hellish flights I took just to get to California, I was in desperate need of some wine (y’all would be as well if you had unruly children making too much noise and kicking your seat from Norfolk to Atlanta and then, SURPRISE, Atlanta to San Francisco while their parents failed miserably at the “I am your friend, not your parent” method popular with parents these days) and when I looked down at my menu, I was surprised to see that in addition to beer on tap, there was wine on tap.  I couldn’t believe and had to investigate so naturally I ordered a glass.

To my astonishment, the Saintsbury Pinot Noir was delicious!  As for dinner, it was great, though they had regular fries instead of the usual shoestring fries that are simply divine, which is not a word I throw around often.

I must say that people in San Francisco take casual dining to a whole new level.  The dozens of young people in the restaurant were dressed in just like the same people in the airport.  My khakis and oxford shirt that I consider casual was apparently too formal.  They also act like Middle School girls, texting everyone they’ve ever met while seated at dinner.  When I asked Kevin if anyone still has manners, he told me to relax because “this is how it’s done out here.”

Lesson Three: People Arrive to Work Whenever They Feel Like It

On Friday morning, Kevin took me to his internship for “the day.”  Kevin was interning this summer for his soul mate, Richard Thalheimer, the founder of The Sharper Image, at his new business, RichardSolo.com.  Not only were Kevin and Richard meant for each other, but this business was meant for Kevin.  He’s loves gadgets and other assorted chazerai.  He was so obsessed with The Sharper Image that he still has the catalogs in their plastic wrappings and bought Richard’s autobiography, which he had autographed just before I arrived.

When we arrived at the office, which is also where the warehouse is located, we were the first people to show up.  We arrived at 10h30.  No one else would show up until 12h15.  Unfortunately, Richard himself was unable to come in due to a summer cold, but after meeting the rest of the RichardSolo team that included Richard’s assistant and the guy who runs the warehouse side of the operation, we sat down to try Richard’s obsession: Domino’s Artisan Pizza.

[youtube:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HkUIGDSx0Dw&feature=results_video%5D

Now the last time I ate Domino’s was in the 12th Grade because once a month we had pizza for lunch and it was nothing more than grease-coated cheese and bread.  That summer, I figured out how to make it myself or found really delicious pizza in Italy.  As for the Domino’s Artisan Pizza, it wasn’t the best pizza I’ve ever had, but for a multi-national brand that is desperately trying to change its public persona, it was surprisingly good.  Of the four varieties available, I found the Tuscan Salami and Roasted Veggie pizza to be the best.

Following lunch, a tour around the office/warehouse and watching Kevin get some work done, we took off for the day just after 13h30.  Not bad for a workday.  Plus, we beat all the traffic going back into San Francisco.  His commute isn’t the worst either.

That afternoon, I did a little post-end of school retail therapy in Union Square, which was so nice, especially when they had to take the mannequin hanging from the ceiling at Barney’s to get the pants I wanted in my size.  I also managed to get mother one of her birthday presents before we headed back to change for dinner in China Town.

Lesson Four: When It Says “Hot & Sour” Next to the Soup, It Should Say Fire-Breathing Dragon Hot

It was this night that Kevin realized the purpose of this visit (other than to see him): food!  For dinner, we went to what is quite possibly the most well-rated Chinese restaurants in the city: Oriental Pearl, which I actually ate at eight years ago when I was in San Francisco with Mother and little Mao.  It’s always those restaurants that put no money into the decor, have overflowing dumpsters next to the entrance and waiters who don’t care about providing customer service that always seem to have the best food!

It was rather chilly that night so Kevin wanted to get soup so he ordered the Hot & Sour Vegetarian Soup.  It was so hot, the two of us were schvitzing after the third bite.  It was like a fireball had exploded in my mouth and I’m not exaggerating at all!  I downed that plum wine, which I had recently discovered while dinnering with Grace at Mizuno in Virginia Beach, so quickly and then downed the water glass and ate all the ice cubes!

Dinner itself was much less dramatic and not spicy at all.  The Almond Chicken with Cashew Nuts was better than any of the Chinese food we get in Baltimore and P.F. Chang’s can’t even lift a fork to this place.  Kevin’s Sweet and Sour Chicken was equally delicious.  The food is so fantastic that one seems completely oblivious to the lousy service and the 80s Chinese restaurant decor complete with ubiquitous fish tank.

Lesson Five: If You Want Really Good Ice Cream, Get in Line!

We left China Town and headed toward the Mission District for dessert.  The Mission District is the Williamsburg of San Francisco, but without the “Brooklyn is better” attitude (Speaking of the outer borough, how is Brooklyn the second most expensive place to live in America?  I mean, isn’t it’s appeal the fact that it’s New York, but without the Manhattan price tag?).  We were heading to Bi-Rite Creamery, a San Francisco sensation that was started in 2006.  Now I didn’t really realize that nearly all of the restaurants/food destinations I wanted to visit were in the Mission District, nor did I know that Kevin lived nowhere near it so we had to drive out there and then find a parking space.  It took twenty minutes of going around the block over and over again.  I swear, the people we passed five times must have thought we were casing the block!

Finally, though, we found a spot that no one else thought was a spot because people don’t bother to read signs, thankfully.  As we walked up to the creamery, my mouth salivating at just the thought of ice cream, we noticed a line, well part of a line.  Turns out that this place is so popular, the line was extending around the corner from the entrance!  For the next thirty minutes, the New Yorker in front of us tried hitting on these two girls who were beyond not interested in his “charm” and nonstop talking about himself.  Worse, he thought he was getting somewhere with the one who was polite enough to talk back.  It was so sad.  Then we made it to the door and like someone who hasn’t eaten in days, I went wild and got four scoops  of ice cream:

1. Malted Vanilla with Peanut Brittle and Milk Chocolate Pieces.
2. Honey Lavender (the version I made earlier in the summer was almost as good, if I may say so myself).
3. Olive Oil (all I needed was a little bread and I could have easily been at an Italian restaurant).
4. Balsamic Strawberry (only available on Fridays and without-a-doubt the best of the four!  If they hadn’t closed right after we left, I would have probably gone back and gotten more of it!)

They just came out with a recipe book containing 90 recipes for ice cream and other frozen treats, as they put it, and I was just so excited about it (given that I just finished a summer of love with my ice cream maker) that I didn’t even hesitate and bought it!

Kevin, meanwhile, was less insane and only got two scoops: Salted Caramel and Cookies & Cream.  The Salted Caramel put the one Talenti makes to utter shame while Kevin declared that the Cookies and Cream was out of this world not only was it definitely worth the wait, but that he might go back before leaving San Francisco! (sadly, he didn’t make back before leaving)

Lesson Six: Food, Glorious Food (and Foodies)

Saturday morning and it was off to the market we went!  Despite being nowhere near where he worked, Kevin’s location meant that we were just five minutes from the legendary Ferry Building Marketplace.  If you don’t know what the Ferry Building Marketplace is, you should feel ashamed because even little Benitio knows what it is; in fact, he wanted to go the last time he was in San Francisco and this is someone who thinks that a pickle on rye bread with mustard is the greatest thing he has ever consumed.  If you don’t feel ashamed and want to know, let’s have a little history lesson:

The building was first opened 1898 and enabled people to reach San Francisco from all over the West.  It served this purpose marvelously until this little thing called the Golden Gate Bridge was completed in 1937.  After that, it was considered an afterthought until the 1989 earthquake that rocked San Francisco in honor of new of my birth reaching California.  When this happened, the highway that ran directly in front of the building was torn down and a revitalization began, culminating with a renovation of the building in the early 2000s .  When it reopened in 2003, the foodies that have invaded/emerged from this city created an elegant, yet useful, space that plays host to local farmers, butchers, fishermen, florists, and activists (this is San Francisco after all) each Sunday from 10h0-14h0 and it’s incredible!

We got nectarines, plums, these grapes that were so sweet I swear they were coated in sugar while they were on the vines.  I was basically in heaven and Kevin didn’t know what hit him.  Grace and Justin would probably replace “heaven” with some perverted sexual something (which I believe one of them did in a text), but I’m trying to be more mature now that I’m a college graduate.

The fruit was so fresh and juicy and those yellow plums… I’m salivating just thinking about them!  After my tastes buds and I returned to my body, Kevin took me to see the nut guy.  The way he went on about this guy, you would have thought he found a cure for cancer or something.  The nut guy, a man whose name I never got, worked at the outdoor stand for G.L. Alfieri Fruits & Nuts (there’s also a permanent stand inside).  I instantly figured out why Kevin loved this guy: free samples on steroids.  It was like Costco, but for nuts and brittle, and without the hairnets.

Next thing I know, my “diet” has turned into me trying everything he offered us.  I ended up leaving with dark chocolate brittle (which is shocking for me even a month later because I despise dark chocolate; milk chocolate for life) and a bag of trail mix that was later devoured in about five minutes.  Kevin bought some brittle and chocolate-covered raisins (whoever thought of covering raisins in chocolate deserves a monument of some kind) for “his friends” before we headed inside to face a mob of people that resembled Penn Station on a Friday afternoon, but nicer.

On the advice of my aunt, we made our way through the herd to Miette, this charming little bakery that has several locations throughout the San Francisco area.  We were there to get mother their gingersnaps, but that turned into me getting a breakfast of a buttermilk panna cotta topped in fresh strawberries served in what appeared to be glass containers about the size of a baby food jar.  Once again, so much for the “diet.”  It was so good I ate it in about 30 seconds!  Even the girls behind the counter were shocked at how fast I devoured it.  If it weren’t for those pants I had just purchased the day before, I would have probably gotten a second.

The woman who started this bakery has the most amazing story about having such poor vision when she was little that the first thing she ever saw when she finally got glasses was the glass counter in a bakery and you just can feel her warm personality everywhere in this little pink and light green (not Lily green) explosion; there was even a 1950s refrigerator!  All of the staff were beyond friendly and couldn’t have been nicer when I asked if they could wrap the things we had purchased.

Lesson Seven: Grilled Cheese Should Be Its Own Food Group

After dropping off all our edible treats, Kevin and I began a very long walk to lunch.  Apparently, I’m not capable of finding places to eat near his apartment and though that “very long” walk turned out to be a measly two miles, we were starving by the time we got to our destination, The American Grilled Cheese Kitchen.  Now I love a grilled cheese sandwich, but I’ve never been one to enjoy Kraft Singles on Wonder Bread so when I learned that there were people crazy enough to open a restaurant that “lifted” this most delicious of foods to new standards, I couldn’t say no to going!

First of all, they have fences made out of metal spatulas that cordon off their outdoor eating area so naturally we give them 100 points for creativity before walking in the front door.

However, before we go on, I should note that the beer I had was revolting, but the beers being ordered by every other patron seemed to be good enough to finish.  This shouldn’t come as a shock since beer and I don’t exactly get along.  Now that we’ve cleared that up, onto the food.

Like the name suggests, the restaurant, which is located just three blocks from Giants’s home at the AT&T Park, is all about that classic American food staple, grilled cheese.  Though there are salad options, Kevin and I decided that wouldn’t feel right and spent the next two minutes staring at the menu board displaying the seven sandwich options.

If you think Kevin’s choice of the Mac n Cheese Grilled Cheese sounds like a 5-year old’s dream come true, then you’d be right.  The only thing it’s missing is a carton of ice cream.  Frankly, I was expecting some heart attack-enducing platter one might get at a Cracker Barrel.  However immature and disgusting it might sound, even I was shocked at how good it tasted, let alone how appetizing it looked!

I opted for the Mushroom Gruyère and devoured it before I could manage to take a photo.  The mushrooms tasted so fresh and when mixed with the nutty flavor of the gruyère, they gave off the most amazing aroma.  Because we opted for the Red, White and Blue Plate special, a good-sized bowl of smoky tomato soup accompanied our sandwiches.

Lesson Eight: You Simply Cannot Resist the Temptation of a Cream Puff

Stuffed like a turkey on Thanksgiving, we slowly made our way toward Union Street, a 3.5 mile hike through the city, which is home to dozens of little boutiques and “quaint” restaurants.  The highlight of these places was Pacific Puffs, a charming little bakery that specializes in one thing: cream puffs.

Now I love a cream puff.  The ones that they sell at Costco in that plastic tub are simply delicious, but as good as they are, there’s something about eating cream puffs that come out of a tub that can be reused for way too many things that doesn’t seem right.  Thankfully, the folks at Pacific Puffs have created an alternative to the Costco option (favored by the same people who also love the tub of éclairs sold in the same freezer door).

Though they run between $2.00 for a mini and $3.25 for a regular-sized one, these little bundles of butter are worth every penny.  The cream filling puts anything the folks behind the Kirkland brand (why am I even comparing these to ones that can be purchased at Costco?) to shame and you could tell that everything was freshly made that day.  Because we arrived later in the afternoon, I missed the Fruit Whip option, and was forced to settle for a classic mini, but I don’t know why I’m making it seem like it wasn’t good because it was scrumptious.  Plus, it’s so small and adorable like a puppy that you can’t say no.

Lesson Nine: I Finally Found a City in America That Embraces My Love of Pimm’s

Following a leisurely stroll that took us to the beyond touristy, and dare I say tacky, Ghirardelli Square and the first of our two failed attempts and getting decent photos at the Golden Gate Bridge (beware the raccoons that live beneath the storage unit adjacent to the payment kiosk for the auxiliary parking lot), it was time for dinner.

We ate at Absinthe, a French restaurant located in Hayes Valley, and though it ended up being more expensive than I had hoped, as the rapper Drake says, YOLO.  It was here at Absinthe where I first realized that the people of San Francisco actually like Pimm’s.

Few restaurants and bars have the English drink in stock and so it was a complete shock to see cocktails on the menu that were made with my beloved Pimm’s.  I couldn’t resist and ordered a 21 Hayes, a shaken drink consisting of Damrak gin, Pimm’s No. 1, cucumber, and lemon juice.  Now I had a bad experience once in my youth with gin and have since refused to drink anything with gin, but that ban was done away with at first sip.  The lemon juice and cucumber overpowered any bitter taste I might have otherwise noticed and made a drink so delicious that I quickly began to re-enact the scene from Something’s Gotta Give when Diane Keaton’s character is drinking martinis with the same pace at which frat boys drink when racing one another to chug cheap beer.  Needless to say, I couldn’t resist ordering a second.

For dinner, Kevin had the French Onion Soup Gratinee (he was nice enough to share half a spoonful) and the 7oz. Bistro Filet.  He claimed it was the best meal he had had in San Francisco.  I, realizing that a dinner consisting of booze wasn’t the smartest idea, chose the Mixed Local Greens salad and the Coq au Vin.  The orange-almond vinaigrette on the salad was topped only by the use of grapes from nearby wine country.  As for the coq au vin, I could never say anything negative about chicken that has been soaked in a bath of red wine and vegetables. Despite being a very heavy meal (there’s nothing light about coq au vin), dessert was a non-negotiable.  Chocolate Pot de Crème is something I absolutely love.  I’ve even made it once myself and devoured four of the individual ramekins myself.  Unfortunately, it was the first thing on the menu so I didn’t even give the other items on the menu a chance!

After dinner, we walked up Hayes Street for a few blocks until we came across this bar called Marlena’s and it was definitely not something either of us had ever experienced.  Peering through the windows and doorway of the bar, we saw a “larger” drag queen wearing a bright sequined mini skirt belting away to the stylings of Ke$ha on a stage with plenty of other drag queens in the wings waiting for their chance to perform.  It was a spectacle just watching and I don’t even want to imagine what would have happened had we entered the bar!

Lesson Ten: Fog and the Golden Gate Bridge Are Almost Always Inseparable

Sunday morning saw me waking up way too early for anyone on vacation because we had to go schlep all the way back to the Golden Gate Bridge and make our second attempt at visiting the landmark.  While it rather quiet when we went Saturday afternoon, it was busier than a Wal Mart on Black Friday when we pulled into the parking lot on Sunday morning.  There we were, stuck between the boats that can go in the water (they scare me) and the double-decker tourist buses.  I have nightmares about moments like that.  Fortunately, a nice police officer took pity on us and helped us navigate our way into a free parking space right in front of the entrance to the Visitor’s Center.  I was just glad we didn’t have to go anywhere near those raccoons again.

For the next two hours, we walked through the fog as we traveled from one end of the Golden Gate Bridge to the other and back.  I could say how beautiful and spiritual (this is California after all) the whole thing was, but I really spent the whole time terrified that I might lose my camera.  That said, I got some lovely shots of the bridge and by the time we made it back to visitor’s center, the fog was beginning to disappear.

Lesson Eleven: Brunch is a lifestyle No Matter Where You Go

After violating at least four traffic laws in order to get out of the parking lot, we headed to brunch at Zuni Café, a San Francisco destination since 1979.  Seated at a copper bar for two with a spectator’s view of the main dining room, brunching began with mimosas before Kevin’s pizza and my baked egg with tomato sauce decided to join our little party.  The pizza was whatever, but that baked egg with tomato sauce was sinfully good!  The only thing that made the whole experience better was the mountain of shoestring fries we ordered.  Our waiter said they were highly addictive and I am truly embarrassed at how I refused to stop eating them.  I couldn’t stop!  For the next twenty minutes, I felt like a junkie.  I highly recommend them.

Lesson Twelve: They’ll Make Ice Cream Out of Anything Now

Remember when ice cream came in three flavors?  Well I don’t and thanks to my ice cream maker, I’m now 5lbs heavier than I was at the beginning of the summer. Once we paid the bill and I finally finished listening to five different conversations taking place in our vicinity, we returned to the Mission District once again to try another ice cream vendor, Humphry Slocombe.  Though not nearly as long a line as the one at Bi-Rite Creamery, this was still a very popular place.  That said, I wasn’t impressed.  Of the three flavors I got (Brown Butter, Cinnamon Brittle and a third not worth remembering), only the Brown Butter was actually good.  Kevin said his two flavors weren’t even worth mentioning.  The problem was really the fact that they were making ice cream out of things that should never be turned into ice cream.  In my pre-trip research, I learned that they make Prociutto ice cream four times a year and that they also have Government Cheese and Bacon listed as seasonal flavors.  If I could have done this over, I would have just gone back to Bi-Rite Creamery.

Lesson Thirteen: Napa is Not a Place.  Napa is a Lifestyle!

There’s something about Napa that just makes everyone who visits want to move here and start growing vines of their own.  I don’t blame them.  Despite not having any tours arranged (even though I called four wineries for a week and never heard back from one) because the winery I had wanted to visit the most, Dominus, didn’t have some permit that allowed them to do tastings/tours, we burned rubber up to America’s Bordeaux for what turned out to be a very relaxing and very hot afternoon.  We headed to St. Helena, a small town located at the northern tip of Napa Valley where I rediscovered Woodhouse Chocolates and Olivier before we turned around and found some wineries still open after 16h0 for tastings.

Opening the door to Woodhouse Chocolates is like entering a completely different atmosphere.  The air is filled with the scent of chocolate and naturally all worries immediately disappear.  In the center of the ivory-painted interior is a display of a chocolate fish that just looks so luscious and heavenly.  Behind glass sit hundreds of little pieces of chocolate just begging to be eaten by you, the nice person with an American Express card in your wallet.  The next thing you know, the chocolate aroma in the air has taken control of your motor functions and you’re buying a box of twelve little pieces of heaven even though it’s nearly 100°F outside and you’ve got two wineries to visit before heading back to the much more comfortable weather in San Francisco.

I’m sorry, just writing about Woodhouse Chocolates put me into that same trance.

A few doors down is Olivier, an olive oil store that uses local olives to produce six equally incredible extra-virgin olive oils.  They also sell a myriad of sauces and a few home goods, but the olive oil is undoubtedly the center of attention in this store.  They stay resting in massive copper vats and it’s up to you to try them all and then bottle the olive oil you want.

We both bought our mothers a bottle of the Manzanillo olive oil before braving the heat and returning to the car for our trek back down the St. Helena Highway in search of open wineries.  We ended up stopping at two wineries that were still open along the highway.  The first was so bad I don’t even remember its name.  All I remember was me chugging through the four wines so we could get the hell out of there!  The second winery we visited, Alpha Omega, was much better than the first, but I feel they spent so much on the tasting room because they knew their wine wasn’t THAT great!  It was fare.  Of the four wines I tried, the Proprietary Red was the best/the only one I could actually see myself buying a bottle of sometime.  The rosé was not good at all and the chardonnay was so-so.  As for the Cabernet, I didn’t finish it.  However, that Proprietary Red was actually good.

I will say that the very nice server at Alpha Omega did have a very heavy pour so I was definitely buzzed by the time we pulled out of Napa, which I feel is required by all over the age of 21 who visit.  I wasn’t too sad about not going to some of the better wineries largely because I toured the Opus One winery before it was treated like Cristal by mass society.  I did feel bad for Kevin, though, because we didn’t go on any tours and since he was still 20 at the time of our visit, he couldn’t have any wine.  But, I made up for it by getting him some Jamba Juice on the way back so everything was fine.

Lesson Fourteen: The Most Interesting Conversations Occur in Restaurants

Sunday night, my last in San Francisco, was not spent watching the Closing Ceremony of the London Olympics, but instead dinnering at Locanda, an Italian restaurant I read about in the Times in July of 2011 and had wanted to visit ever since.  Once again in the Mission District, we were seated at a table next to these two guys who were explaining how each one came out to their families, so not exactly light dinner chat, and it was riveting!  Oh My God!  One has a mother who is super religious and though his father was okay with it, his mother has only now just begun to accept him and other one came out on a family camping trip and his mother broke down crying!  I couldn’t believe they were talking about this when we were sitting six inches from their table!  Worse, when they left and I turned to Kevin to analyze that entire conversation, he looks at me and goes “What conversation?”  I couldn’t believe he didn’t hear a word they said!

Kevin redeemed himself that night by leaving his comfort zone and ordering a duck egg for an appetizer.  Kevin has a “limited” palate that hasn’t changed much over the years and so for him to go out on a limb like this and try a duck egg was very impressive.  It was hysterical though, because before eating it, he remarked that the egg on his plate “could have been a little duck if I hadn’t ordered it.”  Turns out, Donald was delicious and Kevin ate the whole thing so I’m very proud of him for that!  I decided to not be as adventurous and instead started with the Jewish-Style Artichokes.  As far as I’m concerned, you can’t ever go wrong with artichokes, except for that one time when I tried steaming them at home and burned the bottom of the pot so badly that I had to throw it out.  Oops!

For our main courses, Kevin thinks he had the Linguine while I ordered the Rabbit Sugo Pasta.  He thought the dinner the night before was better, but I was blown away by my dinner and thought that Bugs tasted excellent!  We split the Ricotta Fritta for dessert and I highly recommend it, if I may say so myself.  Everyone there was so accommodating and friendly and just made it great way to end the trip.

Lesson Fifteen: Apparently People Don’t Wake Up Early Out West

While driving me to the airport Monday morning, Kevin claimed that he didn’t realize people actually got up before 9.  With that comment lingering in the air, I boarded my flight home to begin my Summer Hiatus, which, as y’all can see, has ended today.  It’s been nice.  I’ve learned about this wonderful thing called sleeping; I’ve emptied rooms filled with chotchkies; I baked something from “Mastering the Art of French Cooking” in honor of Julia Child’s 100th Birthday; I finally made marshmallows (they’re out of this world!).

I visited Charlottesville to attend the UVa-Penn State game with Lindsay (I’m told they lost and we didn’t win, but  a win’s a win as far as I’m concerned) and then drove to DC the next day with her to see Julia Child’s Kitchen (there was more square-footage in the gift shop devoted to her than there was exhibit space); and most importantly, I graduated!

That’s right, after four years, two states, two schools, one second-world country, lots of new friends, countless papers, a few sleepless nights, and five pounds, I’m DONE!  As for the future, we’ll see what happens, but until next time…

-JD

I’d Prefer “Satanic Verses” To This Satanic Heat

First of all, yes I did make a reference to the beyond weird book that got Salman Rushdie his very own fatwa!

Anyway, Satan has once again decided to take his vacation above ground this year and the “aura” that surrounds him has come along for the ride because I moved well beyond hot flash yesterday and entered heat stroke territory.  Once again, for all the wonderful things Thomas Jefferson did (Lewis & Clarke, The Declaration of Independence, that incredible wine collection, U.Va), the man was awful at picking real estate because he found the one place in America where there is no breeze at the top of the hill.  I get to my class everyday looking like a disease and it’s just disgusting.

However, Satan did bring some good news because last night, Brian Stelter of the Times broke the most wonderful story of the year: the wonderful executives at NBC News are trying to get rid of Ann Curry as co-host of “Today” after a year of humiliation, to say the least!  I haven’t been this excited about morning television since Kathie Lee Gifford made it perfectly acceptable to start drinking at 10 in the morning, and that was four years ago (can you believe it’s only been that long?  Poor Hoda)!

But yes, America, it is soon going to be possible to watch morning television without ear plugs or the mute button.  According to the paper of record, Savannah Guthrie, the only attractive person on that show, is rumored to be the frontrunner to replace the nightmare.  If they did that, it would be wonderful because that Natalie Morales is a joke and Al Roker… as Andrew said to me last summer, “Your meteorology course makes you more qualified to do his job than he is.”  Speaking of Andrew, this was such big news that he even replied to the nightly email I sent him yesterday!

Other than that minuscule note of good news, Satan is just here to stay for a while.  He has made this very clear over the last few weeks since I have been robbed of so much money that went to graduation and birthday presents.

Can I just stop for a moment and ask a question: why did the parents of way too many people decide that September was the perfect time to conceive a child?  Was is it the celebration of not staining your one pair of white pants before Labor Day or being able to wear jackets again because frankly I’m at a loss.  Furthermore, do y’all not realize that I’m already reeling from buying people overpriced graduation presents!

It would be about here when my own human Satan would no doubt remind me that the gift I’ll be receiving is going to be my education, to which I would reply by saying that you can’t wrap an education in a box with a bow and a card attached!

Now, it actually turns out that I know more people with July and August birthdays, but they make sense at least because October is a beautiful time of the year to decide to have a kid after a drive through the idyllic countryside that looks  not unlike the photographs on the covers of so many L.L. Bean catalogs.  November also makes sense because a bit of that idyllic October weather is still around and there’s the chance that if you have a daughter and she’s born on the Fourth of July then you can name her Betsy Ross!

Moving on from that lovely tirade of mine, the heat does have one or two positive attributes.  Case in point, my rather obnoxious and arrogant neighbors, who have taken a page from the Silvio Berlusconi and Colonel Muammar Gaddafi Guide to Life and insist on having “Bunga Bunga” style parties all day and night everyday, aren’t spending as much time in the sun/poolside because it’s too hot.  Sadly, that hasn’t stopped them from blasting their beyond awful music at decibels that making the floors shake.

My final morning here, I’m going to get sweet, sweet revenge by setting my very powerful Bang & Olufsen stereo to the maximum volume and play Tchaikovsky’s “1812 Overture” at dawn.  Even though the song itself is very long and grand/imperial, it’s really those last few minutes that make it so entertaining!  I use it as one of my alarms each morning in fact.  Plus, my version has real cannons so you get the full effect!

The actual positive attribute to Summer is that it’s once again “beneficial” to our health to eat one of my all time favorite foods, ice cream!  So far, I’ve only made two ice creams in the last week and a half: Isaac Mizrahi’s Mint Chocolate Chip and Honey Lavender, the ice cream flavor that inspired my stomach to demand that I buy an ice cream maker.

What I loved most about that Isaac Mizrahi recipe is that he put his name in the title, which, aside from being narcissistic to a level that even Justin has yet to attain, means that if it turned out to not be edible, I would knew exactly who to call and yell at!  I used, for one of the few times, the Epicurious App, which I’ve had for over a year but hardly used because the iPod screen was always so small.

Now, however, with the iPad, it’s wonderful, especially since for only $0.99, the app will sync your iPod/iPhone recipe box with the one on your iPad so when you go to the grocery store, you don’t have to look like the obnoxious brat who takes an iPad with them to a grocery store!  Plus, you can actually see the recipe and all of the ingredients at the same time, which you can’t do on the iPod/iPhone.  All I need, though, is one of those protective screen that people have for cookbooks for the iPad because I was constantly worried that I was going to spill something on my new favorite toy.

Back to the ice cream, which I did not dye green because I’m not that crazy, it was mind-blowing to say the least.  I promptly made my friend Hannah rush over and try some because, as I predicted, it was gone 48 hours later by yours truly.

The only thing I would have done, and will do, differently is that even though the recipe calls for the chocolate to be coarsely chopped, I feel it should be chopped in a way that creates chunks that are found in Ben & Jerry’s Mint Chocolate Chunk because what child, or adult reliving his/her childhood, doesn’t love letting the ice cream melt in the mouth with those big chocolate chunks just resting there for a moment providing the coolness of an ice cube!  I’m salivating just writing that.

As for the Honey Lavender, it is rich, really rich.  However, it did curdle faster than I anticipated and so anyone looking into my apartment saw me looking like an addict as I was devouring all of the honey lavender scrambled egg that was left in the strainer.  One of these days, I’m just going to let it curdle  so I can have truly decadent scrambled eggs.

Unlike the Mint Chocolate Chip, the Honey Lavender is not an ice cream that can be eaten directly out of the container with a spoon (trust me, I’ve tried).  It just doesn’t feel right.  It needs something to go with it that can counter the rich, intense flavor that it gives off.  That’s why I’m making a pound cake this weekend and giving it and the ice cream to someone else so Andrew and Justin don’t tell me I’m getting fat!

Speaking of Justin, his photography interest has once again trumped his desire to sit down and study for the LSATs.  Last weekend, he continued what I will now refer to as “Justin’s Grand Tour of Florida” by driving about halfway between Winter Park and Palm Beach to a place I’ve barely noticed on my drives between the two glimmers of civility in Florida, Port St. Lucie.  From the well-taken photographs he uploaded, it looks like I wasn’t missing anything I couldn’t find in just about any other coastal city or town in Florida.

In all honesty, if his photographs depict all of Port St. Lucie, as opposed to simply a very gringy side of it, which he would do, then it basically looks like a has-been city that peaked in the 70s or 80s because everything he photographed looked like it was from around then.

However, because this is Justin, of course he only photographed the “real” city and completely ignored Tradition, a place I’ve passed looking at with curiosity over the years.  It’s essentially a town within the city of Port St. Lucie, located on the less-expensive side of I-95 that I was convinced would never survive the real estate nightmare of the last few  years in Florida.

It’s a terrifying place to drive past, especially at night because out of this sea of darkness is this glow of halogen lights that illuminate perfectly-planned shopping centers and roads that lead to nowhere.  You know it’s Tradition because of these two lighthouse-inspired towers at both ends of the community that inform you that you’re about to pass or have successfully avoided hideosity at its finest.

Truthfully, I’m a bit disappointed that he didn’t go to see what kind of people inhabit this architectural nightmare of a planned community (I can see Walt Disney, whose original idea of creating an experimental city of tomorrow (E.P.C.O.T.) on the very land that Walt Disney World currently sits never came to true fruition, just rolling around in his cryogenically frozen chamber at the very idea that someone would try to create such a hideous version of a utopia).

Back here in Charlottesville, a place people actually visit so they can see the beautiful architecture and then get drunk on local wine (as opposed to Tradition, where you get drunk on cheap tequila and then see if that makes the horror look any better), Hannah celebrated her Twenty-First birthday, which I missed due to an expected conflict.

The day before, however, we lunched at Feast, a place I was floored to learn she had never previously been since it is very much so her kind of food store.  Naturally, she fell for its numerous charms, including the Mediterranean Salad and one of those delectable little chocolate-covered peanut butter balls they sell at the cash register.  I, as usual, had the Turkey, Brie and Cranberry Panni, which didn’t disappoint.  Plus, proving that old age does have a few perks, I enjoyed a nice mason jar of red wine sangria.  I swear the fruit was more intoxicating than the alcohol.

Since it was tolerable, dare I say comfortable, outside, we dined al fresco under the covered seating area which was very nice until we noticed a decomposing cricket in the window next to where we were eating, which made our dining experience so enjoyable because nothing says bon appétit quite like a rather large, decomposing insect staring at you the whole time you’re eating.  She was lucky because I noticed it first while eating whereas she didn’t see it until she was practically finished!  At least we didn’t have a dull dining experience, right?

Alas, that’s all for now because I have to leave my air-conditioned cocoon and venture out into this dreadful weather which will do doubt make me look as though I just went swimming within ten seconds to go get my dinner that I don’t feel like cooking tonight.  I don’t know how my friend Tasleem is able to deal with this heat now that she’s living in Dubai where it’s pretty much gonna be in the triple digits for a lot longer than it will be here!

Until next time…

JD