The Girl Who Ate Everything

torture your enemies with this

DISAPPOINTMENT. MONSTROSITY. SAD. MAKES BABIES CRY.

There descriptions and more are what I wanted to scrawl onto the Whole Foods Turtle Parfait cup in permanent black marker, after which I would stab the cup in rage--with the copious number of free Whole Foods plastic cutlery--brought upon by the ingestion of pointless calories and continue putting the brutalized cup in its rightful place by stomping on it. A few times. With cleats.

why did I eat this?

Yesterday was officially the most disappointing food (mis)adventure I've ever had. Starting from the end (...erm, yes, that's allowed), I present you with an act of desser-hungry-adled-brain desparation. Kathryn and I wandered through Gramercy/Flatiron (sorry, don't know my neighborhoods) area like lost puppies/children, wide-eyed, staring into dimly lit restaurants packed wall-to-wall with old people (and by "old people" I merely mean older than we are) until we decided that Whole Foods was the most reasonable choice for a place to get good grub where we would be semi-comfortable, be able to recognize each others facial features due to sufficient light, and have the ability to carry a conversation at a normal voice level without being drowned out by loud music/chattering humans.

And so we did. Kathryn got agreeable Indian grub from the hot bar and an assortment of small pastries from the dessert counter while I stared at the refrigerated dessert section, akin to how Homer would stare at basically anything at Apu's mart. So much cake; how do I choose? HOW? Do I want yellow cake? Chocolate cake? Brownie? Cupcake? Pie? Shall I just close my eyes and grab something random? What? WHAT WHAT WHAT ROBYN MAKE UP YOUR MIND!

So I did. While it's a common type of dessert, I've never had parfait before, or at least not one in this particular combination resembling a chocolate turtle: layers of random chunks of chocolate cake, whipped cream, whole pecans, and caramel sauce. There's no reason that such a combination should fail. No. Reason.

Naturally, it failed. Upon my first bite, I was overwhelmed by how underwhelmed I was. Sure, it didn't taste like gasoline or any type of bodily excrement, but it was just so...nothing. Of course it had a taste, which I'd describe as "not good enough". Not enough sugar (although ironically, the first ingredient is cane sugar), not enough chocolate, not enough caramel. It makes you wonder how they could fill such a large cup with a combination of lacking flavors, as it almost seems mathematically impossible.

pecan grave bowl

I think the pecans, of which there seemed to be a never ending supply of, embedded in globs of cake and lurking in creamy enclaves, were undesirably raw. While I usually like raw pecans, the taste just didn't work in this dessert. It's not that they didn't taste like pecans, but they just didn't taste like pecans in a dessert (for instance, pecans in pecan pie tend to be heavenly bits of sugar and fat) and managed to bring down the taste of the cake and cream, which were already suffering in the "number of good things I can say about them" department. I've had one previous encounter with a pecan laden blah-tasting dessert from Whole Foods (some kind of caramel pecan cheesecake) where after eating a few of the pecans, I couldn't take any more. Remember who's speaking here: someone who can usually eat 4+ ounces of nuts in one sitting, no problem.

Despite my obvious distate for this parfait, I still ate most of it. Something's definitely wrong with that. Even though I don't really fulfill the title of "the girl who ate everything", I do sometimes eat everything, usually at times when I shouldn't, such as last night. While eating it sans pecans, I thought that perhaps, by the work of a miracle (and if I had been intoxicated), I'd come across a magical, delicious spoonful of cake, caramel, and whipped cream that would allow the dessert to redeem itself. I do recall one pleasing spoonful where a bit of cake had a large blob of caramel in it, but that was all. Kathryn disposed of the offensive cup before I could stare at it any longer, allowing the image to burn into my brain's memory center and give me nightmares.

I think I've said enough about this sad dessert. Basically, it didn't taste like crap, but it tasted so not-good that I wonder if anyone (Chef? Recipe writer? Random kid off the street?) actually taste tested this before sending it out onto shelves and unleashing doom in a cup on unsuspecting victims for $2.99. Hell, maybe it tastes good and I just couldn't tell. (shrugs)

Now, I'll start from the beginning of last night to the doomy parfait. If you saw my last entry, there was supposedly a chocolate tasting last night. I invited Patricia to come with me and intended to meet Kathryn there because as fun as it is to eat chocolate by yourself (while staring at the cold, screen of my laptop), it's even more fun if there are other people taking part in the joy of eating pulverized cacao bean products. Before heading to the chocolate tasting that was not meant to be, Patricia and I roamed around for food. I suggested the Shake Shack, where I still have yet to try a hamburger, but as we got closer to the sleek, radiating hut of burgers and shakes, a wave of horrification set in as no one was there. Checking the place out was a last minute decision so I didn't look up the times beforehand, and while it does make sense for them to close early during the winter (under the assumption that people won't want to eat outside if it's cold), it still sucks.

Where to now? I looked east and west on 23rd Street, partially screaming "NOOOOOOO!" inside my head before remembering that I hadn't tried Rickshaw Dumpling Bar yet. Little dumps! Yes! They're here to save the day!

dumplings! inside!

RDB's long interior is smooth and clean, with an somewhat industrial but comfortable feel, and probably doesn't resemble any other kind of dumpling house you've ever been to. There's a good amount of seating in the back that I would've never noticed just looking in from outside. At 7 PM on a Thursday night, it wasn't at all crowded but customers kept coming in. Their menu is very basic: 6 kinds of dumplings, with optional salad or noodle soup, plus some drinks, sides, and one type of dessert dumpling. Getting six dumplings and noodle soup seems like the best deal, as the bowls looked huge, but since I wasn't very hungry I stuck with just six chicken and Thai basil dumplings.

dumpling box with sticker

dumpling innards

They tasted like Thai-ified dumplings. Tasty! They went very well with the spicy (curry, methinks) peanut dipping sauce. While I wouldn't go out of my way to eat them, they were worth trying once, and if I find myself roaming around that area again in the future, late at night with no Shake Shack to seek ground meat delight in, I'd go back. I tried one of Patricia's pork and chives dumplings, and while it may be good on its own the flavor was much less intense than in my dumplings and thus tasted kind of bland. I guess it's not a good idea to mix dumplings if the flavors differ that much.

We headed to the chocolate tasting, to find out there wasn't one because of a death in the family. I felt awful standing in front of the apartment door while calling the woman in charge of the tasting as she said that she hoped the cancellation didn't cause much inconvenience for me. Well, it surely wasn't as "inconvenient" as having an family emergency, but I felt like something inside me dropped. Like my organs. That's uncomfortable.

Roaming around, we found out that just about anything that would appeal to me was closed, hence how I ended up eating a strange parfait at Whole Foods. If you're roaming around late at night in search for desserts, it's best to stay in the West Village.

[I wrote this entry very disjointedly over two days, so if it poops out at the end, that's why. Hopefully I'll write something more interesting next time.]

As a testament to my flickr obsession, Cafe Gray happened 12 pages ago. I could've said "1 week" but using flickr as a time gauge seems less conventional. I mean, it is less conventional. Because it's stupid.

shops...over there!

So, 12 pages/1 week ago, I went to the Time Warner Center to visit Cafe Gray with my Beverages class. The Time Warner Center is the ritziest looking mall I've ever went to. Yup, in the end, behind all the shiny glass, stretches of marble floors, golden lighting and high airy ceilings, it's a mall. You know what other places has malls? NEW JERSEY. Does that matter? Not really, except that most of my leisure time growing up in New Jersey was spent in those domains of capitalism fueled by disposable income (and lack of anything else to do because, ye know, it's New Jersey; what am I gonna do, stare at squirrels?). Weee!

Columbus Circle

Alas, no other mall has this beautiful view of Columbus Circle, with giant, color-changing pointy stars threatening to rain down on you. It's pretty; I just hope they're not lethal. (Green means they're going to release poisonous gas...right after the light show!)

open kitchen

I didn't actually take many photos of Cafe Gray because it felt highly inappropriate in such a serene, sophisticated setting to whip out the ol' compact digital camera and snap away as a chef picks at mushrooms and others are arranging lettuce leaves in perfect synchronization. The photo above gives you a minute idea of the open kitchen in front of the gargantuan window that looks towards Central Park. Some things you can see in this photo include the sleek, spotless counter, the numerous chefs busy doing...stuff, and the large amount of natural light coming in from the GARGANTUAN WINDOW. While I've admittedly been exposed to few open kitchens (or at least no very nice ones), this is the nicest kitchen I've ever seen. As an open kitchen, I found it breathtaking how cleanly and organized everything was set up. Just the basic little metal containers by the counters with garnishes excited me in some way. I suppose I'd destroy something if I worked in it, so it's a good thing I don't. Nor will I ever.

While the open kitchen is large, there's also a regular white tile and stainless steel kitchen in the back. I saw some guys cutting meat back there. Yum. Meeaat. There were also hotel pans full of various cut stuff. Like meat. Meeaat. (It's times like this when I could better convey myself by speaking with a certain intonation, in this case by creepily saying "meeaat", than just typing it out.)

Aside from the kitchen areas, there are...you know, seats. For customers. The floor (or shall I say, "front of the house") looked spacious when I was there since it was empty (emptiness has a tendency to feel spacious), but I imagine that when it's full it can feel pretty crowded. The service area and seating area are nicely arranged though to hopefully make everything run smoothly. Around the perimeter of the dining area is a glass-paned partition and pathway that has a few openings onto the dining floor. Behind these partitions may be ice stations, hand washing stations, and probably other things, thus keeping necessities closeby but hidden from customers.

The main dining area had a shiny copper and gold setting that, while not unpleasant, didn't appeal to me that much. I'd still say it was beautiful in that clean, "ooh, shiny!" way, but the mirrored tiles on the columns kind of reminded me of a weird dance club. The open kitchen area was much nicer in my opinion, as the darker colors felt more natural and subdued (NO MIRRORS!). In addition to the dining area, there's also a bar/lounge area closer to the entrance that is much dimmer than the main dining area but still retains that shiny gold-hued...feeling. I'm not a fan of bars so I doubt I'd ever find a design I like that much. Give me a bakery, you know?

The sommelier asked my class if any of us had eaten at Cafe Gray before. Silence. I suppose the only person in our class to have eaten there is the student who actually works there. (Sidenote: All the way on the far end of the open kitchen, hidden from most customers' views but still in front of the window, there was a medium sized table, perhaps eight seats, with fresh white tablecloth. My assumption is that the staff may do tastings there.) My teacher said we're all students, which translates to, "We eat pizza and ramen. Foreverrr." I'd love to try Cafe Gray sometime but I don't see that happening any time soon. Their dessert menu cost more than most entrees I'd eat. Damn.

After seeing the inside of an upscale restaurant, I decided that my new goal (not much of a goal) is to eat in a really nice restaurant. Obviously there are a gazillion excellent upscale restaurants in NYC, but I'd really like to not waste $50+, not to mention eating calories than I don't need (which is most of them). If anyone has recommendations I'd love to hear them. Overall, I guess I don't want something too trendy or anything I'd have to dress up for.

...okay, I think I just figured why I don't go to fancy restaurants, besides that I'm not usually willing to surrender the moolah for such indulgent food related activities. (However, I spent $50 today on 40 blank cards and envelopes that I intend to personalize and send out for the holidays. Surely there's more economic way to buy blank cards, but I'm guessing the paper is really nice. Or Kate's Paperie is overpriced.) I'm not a very sophisticated eater. As much as I enjoy eating, I don't really have a "dream" restaurant to visit, rather just a whole bunch of restaurants I'd love to try someday in the instance I come across rich people who don't mind treating me to dinner or I make a crapload of money that I don't mind spending on food (as opposed to other things, like books, music, and lots of chocolate). I'm interested in trying Bouley and Babbo but will I ever eat at them? IThey're not totally inaccessible, but I'm not making reservations right now either. (At least Bouley has that nice market where I can buy baked goods and not feel too indulgent.)

Mm. So. Random thoughts. About food. That I may or may not ever eat.

Lastly, there's a call for food blog award nominations! In no way am I trying to promote this blog (haha...hehe...GUFFAW) but rather bring your attention to all the great food blogs out there, like everything on my blogroll to the left. GOOD STUFF! YOUR LIFE HAS BEEN TAKEN OVER BY BLOGS!

yesterday's homecooked meal

The difference between yesterday's homecooked dinner and today's homecooked dinner is that yesterday's didn't make me want to cry and clean out my stomach of the ghastly substances that touched its inner lining. Another difference was that yesterday I cooked food I was pretty sure I'd like, while tonight was more about experimentation and blindly using up ingredients in my kitchen of questionable deliciousness.

First off: soba is awesome. Previous to yesterday's dinner, I had only eaten it once at Sobaya for the first time in years. It definitely left an impression, as I soon went to Whole Foods and procured some organic wild yam soba to satiate those soba cravings that made me toss and turn in the night while attacking me in drawn out nightmares involving flying soba demons (...okay, this didn't happen). However, the soba laid untouched in its plastic shell for weeks until yesterday when I finally bought some tsuyu (soba dipping sauce) from Sunrise Mart on Broome Street. Of course, you don't need tsuyu to eat soba, but there's a reason (probably with a long history of cultivation) that people use it: it tastes really good. As it seemed unbalanced to just eat soba noodles and sauce (although I'm sure there are people my age eaten less balanced meals), I sauteed some vegetables lying around the kitchen (onion, fennel, and kale; yes, they just lie around) as a side dish. End result: palatable meal! That I made! Hot damn!

Today I decided to roast some acorn squash because I hadn't tried it before. I've had squash dishes, just not made by myself. Alone. In my kitchen. Of doom. I've had a squash for weeks, bought sometime before Thanksgiving, sitting uncomfortably on my counter in a container of onions and shallots. The bulbous, green, somewhat lifeless plant-thing looked like a neglected orphan cavorting among the onions, although it wasn't really cavorting seeing as it's a hard, inanimate object. I'm sure if it had feelings, it would've cavorted. Appendages would've helped too.

I sliced it in half, put the other half in the fridge (although I might just chuck it), and after spooning out the seeds, seasoned the inner cavity with butter, sugar, a bit of salt, some honey, and a sprinkling of cinnamon. After shoving it into my preheated 375 degree oven, I prayed for edibility. You can't go wrong with sugar and honey, right?

Well. True, you can't; that part was edible. I thought maybe I didn't cook it long enough but methinks if that were the case, I wouldn't have accidentally shoved my spoon through the skin, as though a long metallic parasite were burrowing its way through the fruit's crust after being implanted in its belly on a freak interplanetary mission. (Yup, it's just like that. You know what I'm talking about.) I probably ate less than half of the squash (which was already a half) as the most palatable parts were those swimming in honey juices. I'm not sure what happened to the rest. Tainted by Satan who lives in my oven, perhaps?

While baking the squash, I thought, "How can I utlize this hot oven that I just preheated and shall keep on being heated for the next 40 or so minutes?" How? HOW? Well. Shove in something else! I decided to gather the last fourth of the size-of-a-baby's-head onion I had since last week and a stalk of fennel, chop them into large pieces and bake them en papillote, because I had a fresh roll of parchment paper begging to be used (yes, my housewares speak to me). So I did. I probably didn't leave them in the oven long enough, but they were definitely cooked. And...they tasted really boring. They didn't taste bad, unlike the non-sugary parts of the squash, but they didn't taste good either. Perhaps it was a problem with the lack of salt, in that I didn't add much of it. Argh. What a waste of good vegetables.

Has anyone noticed that I have a tendency to make things with no flavor? I have a newsflash for you: turns out flavor is a vital part of food, unless you have no sense of taste or smell. The soba tasted good because there was sauce. It was delicious even without the sauce (better than other plain noodles at least). I ate three (or was it four?) little mantou buns today (it's 8/$1.25), which after being warmed in the microwave I peeled apart in pillowly soft layered chunks. Ish. You'd have to try it to see what I mean. Without any embellishment (besides the bit of salt and/or sugar), bread is...delicious. Heavenly. Something I dream about and drool over in cookbooks. As for making it, I've never tried (when I was little, my mum would use a bread machine every now and then), but I'm sure I'd screw that up somehow and make something that tastes vaguely of styrofoam, but worse.

So that was my night. I made up for the monstrous baked vegetation by eating way too many little Japanese pudding pie snacks.

Lotte Pudding Pie

It's research! No really, remember that entry I wrote about Japanese food? Well, I still don't have a thesis, but I figured I'd buy some snack boxes and ...uh. Primarily look at them, for research purposes, and then evaluate their tastes because I'm a glutton.

inside the pie

The box says these things have 64 layers. Not 62, not 67, but a perfect, square number of 64. I'm sure they do, as the Japanese robotic pie-making machine probably knows what it's doing, and I'm not about to count the torn up flakes I left behind while stuffing my face. The filling isn't very pudding-ish but at least tastes like something made of dairy products. This snack, while far from amazing, is worth trying if you like flaky things and don't like very sweet foods. I'm not a big fan of flakes or not-too-sweet but I still ate a lot of these. (I had to make up for the sucky vegetables.)

Every Burger

On the other hand, this snack I could each by the bucket-full. After becoming an obese sack of miniature hamburger-shaped chocolate sandwiches (you never know; it could happen), I'd go back for MORE! MORE SACKS! OF EVERY BURGER! Thankfully the box is divided into two portions (each one containing 8 burgers) or I'd eat the entire contents. Thank you, Japan, for the portion control. However, I take back the thanks for creating so many deliciously cute, unhealthy foodstuffs.

I HATE YOU, JAPAN.

Has anyone noticed the custom on Japanese snack packaging to show a cross section of what's inside the snack or a diagram of the snack's surface composition, no matter how simple it is?

chocolate covered thing

What is it? No hints! Do not pay attention to the crush almond milk chocolate chocolate clusters!...oh, I gave it away.

I have nothing against this practice; in fact, I love it. I hug it. (hugs) I love seeing goo flowing out of cookies.

Koala's March

Many people share a deep connection to Lotte's Koala's March. When I was little, when most people were getting Twinkies and mini muffins, I was getting small packs of Koala's March. Mmm, tasty. Notice how the halved koala on the box doesn't show the koala design. Of course, that makes sense--god knows what kind of nightmares a decapitated koala cookie might create--I just never noticed it before.

French toast

Jumping topics, I made French toast on Sunday night when I realized my loaf of bread from Blue Ribbon Bakery purchased six days prior had gone bad...probably two to five days prior. By Sunday, one slice was growing mold and the whole loaf had turned into petrified wheat-based matter. Oops. It's not a bad sign, of course, as the bread was really tasty on the first day and obviously had no funky preservatives to lengthen its life. I almost can't believe that I didn't finish the loaf before it could turn into a sad shell of its former lively, yeasty self. The magicalness that is the "Toast of France" is that it can bring back such seemingly decrepit slices of toast (unless it has turned green; throw that shit out) and into it inject new, tasty, egg-filled life. I soaked two slices of bread in a mix of egg, sugar, milk, and cinammon before pan frying the slices, slapping them on my too-small plate (seriously, can't you see that I need a new one?) and garnishing it with slices of raw banana and drips of honey. The end result was quite good. I don't know what bad French toast is but if I ever come across it, an angel will die. It will be that tragic.

Bad French toast: don't let it happen to you. Or you'll kill a celestial being.

I was going to email Amy with a reply to her comment in the last entry, but since my drivel went on for a few paragraphs, I thought I'd share with all you...lucky readers.

Do you get strange food cravings too? Sometimes I go on a food fad, meaning I eat nothing but that food for days. Last year it was cottage cheese, this year it's Nutella. Occassionally I must have crepes whenever they're available.

I would usually say that I don't get strange food cravings, but I definitely get into week-long (or shorter) single-food eating modes. This week is all about the scones, as I'm eating one for the third day in a row (Monday: Lafayette Bakery, Tuesday: Once Upon a Tart, Wednesday: Union Square market). Some weeks ago it was sushi. Another time, it was chocolate (or is that a lifelong thing?). Strangely, I haven't eaten much sushi (if any) since that costly (but so delicious) week of sushi hoarding and my chocolate intake has decreased, surprisingly. Not that it's hard to decrease when you can eat 100 grams a day.

So...scone week! What do we have today? [Takes scone out of paper bag; plunks the sugar dusted boulder down on a plate] Wow, this one is kind of huge. I don't remember the name of the vendor but they also sell loaves of bread and have five or so types of scones, all $1.25 each. I've gotten scones from them before but not since this school year started. [Impales the scone with fork, shoves forkful of dense wheat into digestive void, masticates.]

Hm. Not partiularly dancing over this one, but it's not bad. The oatmeal flavor is fainter than I'd like, but if you chew long enough and think about it (which is not something I'm apt to do), you'll get that warm, oatmeal-y flavor. The oatmeal flavor is good, but there isn't enough of it. Besides that, it's a little dry. Mmwell. [Continues eating.]

The unfavorable dryness factor is why pumpkin scones (or anything with pumpkin) never fail: they're always squash-tastically moist. Yesterday I got a pumpkin cranberry scone from Once Upon a Tart and I'd rate it as one of the better scones I've had, although not the kind I'd long to eat again/pay $2.50 for. Yesterday was the first time I had actually bought anything from Once Upon a Tart, and while my eyes darted around the sandwich display case, thinking that perhaps I should get something composed of more than the grain and sugar food groups, I saw another customer buy a scone, thus alerting the scone receptors in my brain and luring me away from the more food group-balanced sandwiches. While looking at the menu, I locked onto the "biscotti" section, resulting in my lunch of a scone and a chocolate hazelnut biscotti. The biscotti was not too soft, not brick-hard, just...good. I'm surprised that all of a sudden I've developed an interest in biscotti. Although I've eaten biscotti for most of my life, my favorite cookies are your basic, round, chewy American discs, preferably containing melty chocolate morsels and un-preferably containing half my recommended daily calorie intake.

Once Upon a Tart loses some points for not letting me take photos inside the store. It has nothing to do with food, but...you know. [BEEP], YOU LOSE. BWAHAHA. Oh, what meaningless power I wield.

I've been eating this scone for 3 hours, if anyone's curious (and it's still on my plate, partially eaten). That also means I've been in blog-writing mode for the same amount of time. I'm at work so obviously, I'm doing other things...not involving studying though. See, that's something I should do, not this blog updating business.

...but I'm not done talking about the food cravings. I think when I develop week-long food themes, it's partially for the sake of trying a variety of things within that category besides fulfilling the desire to ingest food, all the time. I've had three scones this week but each one was one I had never eaten before in that particular flavor from a specific bakery. For better and for worse, there's a ginormous variety of places to get food in NYC, which is why I can go on these food sampling hunts at the expense of my waistline. (INotice that i's not my wallet that's in trouble, it's my CIRCUMFERENCE).

As for Amy's reference to cottage cheese and nutella, I don't think I've ever had a fad with a ...condiment? I like Nutella but can still remember my first experience eating it in 7th grade at my friend's house in Taipei; the first nutella-slathered slice of toast was heavenly, while the second left me feeling a bit queasy. How could something sooo good turn so wrong after one toast surface area's slather's worth? (...Uh, 1 ts², or toast slather.)

I just finished my scone. Bravo. To me.

There's a discussion about Chinese cuisine in NYC with Ruth Reichl at egullet.org. An excerpt:

...after living in California, it's hard to get very excited about Chinese food in New York. We just don't have the kind of monied, sophisticated Chinese eaters who support great restaurants. So it's hard for me to get really enthusiastic about local Chinese restaurants. They just don't have the same quality as those on the other coast - or those in Canada - where most of the big Chinese money resides.

Of course, she talks about the Chinese food in NYC that she does love, but this is an interesting point. As I've rarely eaten Chinese food in California (I have eaten Chinese food in Taiwan but I don't remember enough to wax poetic about it), I can't compare it versus NYC, but I'm under the impression that Manhattan's Chinatown is...one of the lesser refined Chinatowns, to put it mildly. In response to a question about people taking Chinese cuisine more seriously, she says:

Basically, Americans are racist about Chinese food. We just don't think it should be as expensive as western food. When my friend Bruce Cost had a great Chinese restaurant in SF, one of the reviews actually said, "What makes him think we should pay as much for Chinese as French food?" And he was buying from the same purveyors as Chez Panisse.

But this will change, and I suspect very soon. As the Chinese become increasingly dominant in the world - which they are, and will be - our attitude about their cuisine will change. Today the great Chinese chefs all stay in Asia, where they're paid better and get respect. Why should they come here? But as we go there, and taste their food, we'll start to give it hte respect it deserves.

Another thing, of course, is that the esthetics of Chinese restaurants are completely different than those of Western places. And we'll have to get used to that. The most expensive restaurant I've ever been to was in Hong Kong - and it was bright, loud, cold, no romance at all. But the food!!

I too look at Chinese food as something that should be cheap. However, I'm thinking of...cheap chinese food. If I thought the Chinese food were as "good" (a bad word to use, as it has so many meanings, but I'm thinking in terms of ingredients, techniques, presentation, taste, blah blah) as the sophisticated French food, I'd pay for it.

Then again, I've developed an idea of what counts as worthwhile expensive food while growing up in America, an idea that Chinese food hasn't entered into. Perhaps I've been eating the wrong food? Even in Taiwan, the most expensive food I ate wasn't Chinese, although it may have been Asian-influenced. I recall the great Chinese (I'm using Chinese to refer to Taiwanese food also, and while they're surely not exactly the same, I don't know enough about Taiwanese cuisine to talk about it separately) food stalls in the alleyways and the dingy hole-in-the-wall restaurants with great, simple, super-cheap food. Beef noodle soup was a favorite of mine (but absolutely no tendons, blech).

As for the more espensive places I ate at, I think they were mainly buffets. Taipei has loads of buffets (I guess we like to eat a lot, ahem) but they aren't like the cookie-cutter Chinese buffets you find in America. Is there a reason that we don't have more "nice" buffets in America, or at least New York City? I used to love going to the buffets in hotels and department stores in Taipei, in particular (before I lived there) at the Asiaworld Hotel (which also has its own ginormous department store; yup, we just like to eat, shop, and sleep) and this other hotel, either called Henry or had a restaurant with that name. There were other places but I don't remember them as well. Obviously, a buffet in Taiwan wouldn't have Chinese-American food like...er, here, but there was definitely a difference. I recall there being few buffets at the Far Eastern Plaza. Good. Stuff.

I should probably add that I have been to the cheaper, mainly Chinese food buffets in Taiwan. Nothing against them, of course. Good stuff. I can't believe I wasn't fatter when I lived in Taiwan about eight years ago. (You may think I'm rather normal-sized now, but at the time I was "the chubby one" amongst my friends, who I swear all look generally the same today as they did back then. Even though I gained minimal height, I must have added 10-15 pounds to my frame since moving back here.)

...Yeah, I haven't eaten much good Chinese food in my life, have I? I'm really not a fan of Chinese restaurant aesthetics; what's up with them? Does anyone like eating while surrounded by garish decorations? My assumption is yes, although I don't know who these people are. However, if a Chinese restaurant didn't look that way, but say, more Japanese or European, it wouldn't feel very Chinese. Maybe. Not that it would matter if the food is good.

There's one, very distinct memory of eating Chinese food in Taiwan that has been lodged in my brain ever since I was 7 (or somewhere around that age). My mum and I took a trip to Taiwan, which largely consisted of traveling with a western sightseeing tour group. At one location while walking around a mountainous region (of course, I don't remember where it was but it was beautiful, rocky, high cliffs, greenery, nature, which I don't think much of these days) we ate lunch at a small noodle stand run by one woman. It was just there, out in the open near the entrance of one of the long, narrow bridges that traversed the cliffs. The seats and the tables were made of beautiful, ultra-smooth, polished black stone (I can almost recall running my fingers along the table's surface, which is kind of freaky). We ate our noodle soups out of plastic bowls--orange, I think. I don't remember what the food was like but I think I finished it and I'm sure it was good. I suppose that memory is more about the environment than the food itself but ...there. That was random.

This entry was a total brain splodge. I still haven't formulated responses to all the great food blog comments you guys left. [Should do that! Now!]

You must watch this Documentary on Japanese Sushi.

...you clicked it, yes? RIGHT? If not, click it.

...nah, I don't think you clicked it...

...okay. Good boy. [pat pat]

Actually, it may not make much sense to you if you're not very familiar with Japanese cuisine/culture. I'm only somewhat familiar though and I thought it was hilarious (like the not-so-sanitary towel part, the explanation of the different kinds of tuna, the prolonged soy sauce dipping). If you're not very familiar with Japanese culture, just know that the video isn't true and is more of a guide to what not to do when eating sushi. [via Japundit]

Now, my children: DISCUSS.

Okay, you don't have to. Thanks for the comments on the previous entry; yes, I will reply to them in some shape or form. Those, and the comments about blogging from the last millennium. A quick mention of yesterday night's fooding: I went to Congee Village with a friend and the cost of our meals together was less than my dinner on Thursday evening at Men Kui Tei. Of course, the congee was great, although the dumplings sucked. I'll write more about my gorging later, such as after I write more of this ten page essay due on Monday.

UPDATE: Thank you to everyone who filled out my survey! I already turned in the essay so there's no need for anyone else to fill it out. Feel free to read other people's answers.

Here's a little survey (er, maybe more than little) about Japanese snacks. If you're really bored and you're not Japanese (I'd make slightly different questions for Japanese people, but I don't think I have much Japanese readership), you can answer these questions and be loved forever! By me! Other people? May not love you! But me? Maybe! Exciting prospects lie ahead...

• How long have you been eating Japanese snacks for? (Childhood? Recent addiction?)
• What are your favorite ones? Why?
• How often do you eat Japanese snacks (besides the ones you like the most)?
• Why do you eat Japanese snacks?
• Do you usually eat them alone or share them?
• Do you find the cuteness of them appealing or not? How come?
• Do you find them more appealing than snacks in the US (or the country you live in)? Why or why not?
• What kind of role do you think cuteness plays in selling Japanese snacks?

Damn, your comments on the previous entry keep piling in! (And you can contine the piling if you want. If you haven't checked the entry after you left a comment, you may want to look at it again to see other people's answers.) Thank you for helping me out. If I could, I'd throw you all a huge "Japanese Snack" themed party. I suppose I'll just have to eat all this stuff by myself. Allll by myself.

I'll keep your attention with photos of food. IT'S DANCING DRUNK PANDA TIME!

So while you are all obviously awesome, I am not. Why? Well. As I'm writing this paper (you know, the day before my presentation, although the paper isn't due until Friday), I realized that I'm only going to focus on sweet Japanese snacks because those are the ones that usually fall into the realm of "cute" and "kawaii" and "OMG I NEED THAT!" Whether or not you like cute things, it's more likely that you'd notice a box with smiling animals romping through a brightly colored field, either because you think "AHH, KAWAII!" or "AH, IT RAPES MY EYES!", instead of a relatively plain bag of rice crackers. It didn't occur to me that so many people prefered these kinds of snacks (you know me and my insane sweet tooth) and I probably should've pointed out that my paper doesn't make much reference to them, except that these more traditional snacks most likely do not possess any kawaii style packaging or flavors, as cute flavors are characterized by sweetness. Don't get me wrong; I do like rice crackers, but not enough to actually buy them. You may have noticed that I don't buy any savory snacks, like chips, pretzels, and whatnot, whether Japanese or not, but that's because any craving for something savory can be satiated with A LOAF OF DELICIOUS FRESHLY BAKED BREAD, perhaps dipped in olive oil and pepper, an all too easily found commodity in NYC.

The grapes, they frolic! INTO YOUR MOUTH!

Remember how I said I needed a thesis for my paper? Well, it's about 10 pages long right now (gonna cut out a bunch of crap that isn't relevant; I probably talk way too much about the Japanese "need" for an escape from adulthood, the rebellion of kawaii culture, etc) and I've come to the conclusion that Japanese snacks don't have a deep meaning. Why would they? It's not like "Bread in this part of Italy signifies the region's economic turmoil and lack of prosperity due to the takeover of large corporations" or something (that actually has to do with something I had to read in "Food and Society"). I wanted to find what the appeal of cute Japanese snacks was and it's quite obvious; they're cute, most of them taste good, and they have interesting flavors.

Cafe in stick form

When I say a snack is cute, I don't mean it just has bright colors and smiling mascots. I consider Cafe Stick to be kawaii because it adapts foreign influence (French, in this case), although it is Japanese because they eat it. In a way. Just agree with me on this one.

(A sidenote: Are there Japanese products with all-encompassing descriptions like "French flavored" or "European flavored" in the way that some products in American are labeled as "Asian flavored", whatever thatmeans? Yes, there are Asian flavor principles, but Asia's kinda, like...huge, with a gazillion countries that have developed their own cuisines, even if they stem from Chinese cuisine. It does make some sense, of course, as something Asian flavored doesn't taste like a hamburger. But anyway. Know what I mean? Okay.)

Black Seame Pocky = crack

Black sesame Pocky is officially my favorite Pocky. That is, until I eat something I like better, which is possible since I haven't tried that many Pocky flavors in my life. In a paper all about cute, sweet, Japanese snacks, Pocky didn't come up very often since it's not flamingly cute. However, I think it's inarguably the most well known Japanese snack in Japan and outside Japan, so at the end of my essay I'm currently writing something about Pocky. I don't think it's obviously cute, but it does have cute qualities. It's sweet, for one, and it's small (except for Giant Pocky, duh). The name isn't foreign or Japanese, but rather it's derived from the sound it makes when you eat it. However, it's written in English and the original name, Chocoteck, is English. You could argue against me (I'm sure I've written a lot of stupid things in this blog entry so far that could be blasted by anyone who knows more about Japanese snacks and culture than I do) but I think Pocky does count as a "cute" snack, even though the tastiness factor is what usually draws people to it.

Cafe Latte Kit Kat

Not really related to my paper, but you may have noticed that Japanese snacks come in a gazillion flavors, sometimes specific to a certain season or region. Non-Japanese companies have responded to this and Nestle is probably most well known for churning out all kinds of flavors for the Japanese market. (There's also a Japanese Ritz cracker sandwich with a vanilla cream center.) However, even Canada gets more flavors than American. What's up? Kit Kats in America are made by Hershey while the rest of the world's are made by Nestle. I think Hershey also makes "Cadbury" chocolates in America, which just doesn't make sense to me. Anyway, we're totally jipped, that's all.

Oh, I'm doomed. Back to my paper. Doom doom doom doom doom. I'm doubly doomed because I DO have a paper due tomorrow for my film class, for which I'm writing about the role of food in Spirited Away. It's...um, bad. You don't want to read it.

Oh, thesis! Thesis? Huh? How about, the cuteness of Japanese snacks doesn't necessarily serve any deep purpose besides marketing and eating the snacks doesn't have a motive other than eating something tasty and cute, such as acting childish or feeling comforted with childhood food in order to cope with the rigors of adulthood. Or something. WHATEVER. Methinks I'm not into this "paper writing" thing.

I interrupt this study break of Japanese snack madness for wheat based mind control.

pizza bianca, I love you

That isn't a photo of the pizza bianca I ate today (I forgot to bring my camera to school, for shame), but it still looks the same. I've eaten pizza bianca from Sullivan Street Bakery maybe twice before, despite its close proximity to campus and the fact that they sell inexplicably delicious bread for $1! $1, DID YOU HEAR ME? Oh, but it's worth so much more. Dare I say...$2!

No, more than that. It's worth my unborn babies.

At around 8:15 AM (at which time I say delivery men piling totem pole-sized bags of breads into their bicycle baskets) I procured my delicious bread blanket (doesn't it look like one?) along with three little biscotti and an olive roll (which I'm eating now and while it would've tasted better earlier in the day, is still delicious...oops, I just finished it) for $3. THAT'S KUH-RAZY! They're practically giving it away! For 300 pennies! You could stuff yourself silly (albeit, in an unbalanced, wheat-heavy way) for cheaps!

I bought three things for the sake of variety, but the pizza bianca is the winner. If you've read Jeffery Steingarten's books (forgot which one exactly), he writes an essay about making pizza bianca (well, trying to at least) and employing the help of the Sullivan Street Bakery to reach pizza perfection. I read this essay after I had tried it for the first time on a whim (because the $1 price tag is very attractive) so I was very happy to see that I was not the only person absolutely crazy for this bread, this perfect manifestation of extra virgin olive oil, rosemary, and salt atop an air-pocketed strip of leavened wheat. You taste just a bit of each component, but they all combine to form a smooth, perfectly balanced flavor that will make you wonder "WHY DO I SUDDENLY CRAVE THIS BREAD, FOREVER?", although the bread may not be ...smooth. If you're me and eat it over a 3+ hour period, it gets crusty (don't even think of saving it overnight; in the morning, you will sadly be faced with a nearly inedible, airy plank of wheat), but it's still good! Yes! STILLLL GOOOOOD.

In conclusion, I really enjoy pizza bianca.

POIFULL

I also enjoy Poifull, which looks like an American jelly bean but is really a candy coated Japanese-style gummy the size of a jelly bean. Surely you like Japanese gummies, as they are a common "favorite" among...humans. (When I was little, I'd eat craploads of Kasugai gummies. Yes, loads of crap translates into a very large amount.) This Poifull is apparently "season's flavor". I didn't get the memo, but apparently it's yogurt season, and according to the expiration date of March 22, 2006, yogurt season lasts A HELLUVA LONG TIME.

The flavors are strawberry, orange, aloe (which tastes a lot like melon) and plain in yogurt-esque forms. The only one I'm not very into is the strawberry, which tastes too candy-like (yes, I'm aware it's candy). The best in my opinion is the orange, which literally stabbed the inside of my nasal passages with its strong citrus aroma. And then I guess it stabbed the inside of my esophagus. However, the nasal effect was more pronounced. Good stuff, that is.

...yeah, I'm diabetic now. You don't even want to know what else I ate today.

eat pie

Sometimes you'll see something out of the corner of your eye, like a car careening down the road (towards you), or a squirrel attacking another squirrel over who can dig a better hole. Other times, you'll see see a chalkboard sign declaring "EAT PIE / FEEL GOOD". Maybe all three will happen at the same time, but in my case, I saw this sign while walking down quiet 1st Street (while lugging a bag of Japanese snacks from Sunrise Mart; I'll have to fill you in on that later) towards Tuck Shop, where I intended to eat pie and feel good. Dammit.

Tuck Shop

I found the restaurant randomly looking through Menupages (this is why I don't need television; I have MENUPAGES, along with a neverending hell of blogs to read) and it sounded too cute to pass up. Also, it's cheap. Okay, maybe that was my real reason, but you don't mind many places that sell freshly made meat pies, do you? (looks around) Nope. I also never had "real" Australian food before (figuring Tim Tams don't count), so I wanted to give it a try. I don't know anything about Australian food but certainly one of you do does, in which case you can let me know how Australian this place is.

koala wants pie

Even the koala wants pie! EVERYONE WANTS PIE! So. Onto the pie.

pies pies pies

Did I mention they have pies? Well, they have pies, all $5 each: traditional (ground beef), chook (chicken, ham, leeks, white gravy), lamb shank and vege, vegetable, vegan, and chook curry. For an extra $2, you can get a "pie floater", aka "drown your pie in pea soup" which I'm sure tastes a lot better than it sounds because it sounds...well. Floater. Actually, next time I go I'm definitely floating mine. "FLOAT MY PIE! I DEMAND PIE FLOAT-AGE."

Wow, that sounded wrong. Or. God, I don't know. "Float my pie"...okay, I'm not gonna say it again.

...floatmypie. [cough]

Since they keep the pies in a hot case by the counter, you get instant pie satisfaction. You can get your pie to go ("Float my pie, TO GO"...oh crap, I said it again) or sit at one of the 6 or so seats by the counter or small table. It's definitely more of a no-frills take-out place, but the warm wooden interior feels homey, with bits of Australian paraphernalia displayed around the walls (like a surfboard, although I guess that's not a "bit") and considering the "freeze your face off" weather, I sure wasn't going anywhere.

cash register

One of the most memorable parts about this place was the guy who gave me the pie. No, not just because he gave me my pie, but because you could immediately tell he was friendly. I know a lot of people are friendly, but there are different kinds of friendly. There's polite-friendly, nice-friend, you're-scaring-me-friendly...actually, I just made those up. I guess this guy seemed warm-friendly, like he really enjoys making pies. I guess he could also hate making pies with BURNING, SEETHING ANGER, but I didn't get that impression.

pie innards

Oh, pie! I got a chook pie, which I suppose is a lot like your standard American chicken pot pie. While growing up, I used to eat these a lot, mainly in microwaved form from a bulk pack of frozen pies we got from Costco and were freakishly salty, now that I think of it. It was a random choice as I'd happily try any of the pies; all animal products and vegetables are fine with me!

The pie was packed with chicken, and...chicken. Lots of nice, chunky white meat bits in here. The crust was good, not greasy, not too flaky, perhaps a little tougher than I would've liked but I'd eat it again. I thought the pie as a whole was a little dry (as you can see from the photo, the filling isn't soupy, while the pies I had growing up were basically like creamy chicken stew topped with a crust) but I didn't eat it with ketchup as Australians seem to do. Next time, I'll try that. Or...float my pie.

Overall, it was a satisfying pie that was $5 well spent. I can't imagine that anyone would prefer to eat a boring, cold sandwich, probably for more money, than a personal, warm, golden crusted stuffed pie. Eating just the pie was satisfying enough, considering I wasn't even hungry (trust me, it bothers me when I'm not hungry, but that doesn't mean I won't eat if I have a lunch break), but of course...you know, I like the sugar. I couldn't leave without a dessert.

vanilla slice

I asked for a dessert, specifying that I wanted something sweet. The guy went to the fridge and gave me a vanilla slice, aka "Vanilla custard, sandwiched between 2 layers of puff pastry finished with a white fondant icing top." Damn, you can't go wrong with that, can you? NO! Not unless you're lactose intolerant.

I couldn't get a very good photo since the vanilla slice was in a plastic container, but it was really good. I wish I could've shared it with someone else, but eating alone meant "consuming everything in my path like a monster who has to friends because she ate them all". Yeah, I pretty much ate the whole thing, in all its its custard sandwich glory. I was actually expecting it to be sweeter, but I guess my sweet tooth isn't sensitive enough. The sickly sweetness is in the fondant, which you can easily take off if you want (by the last few bites, I did; gimme custard!). I haven't had anything quite like this before, but it reminded me of a napoleon because of the thin layers surrounding the custard. The custard tasted very good, although disturbingly I don't know the best way to describe it besides "not artificial". It wasn't a super smooth kind of custard, as it held up to being sliced, but it didn't have structure like flan, so it was somewhere in between the two. Looking at the photo it seems like there's vanilla bean in it.

makin' pies

Even though the place is small, the pie making area behind the counter is pretty roomy. Roomy...for so much pie making! I felt happy for some reason, knowing that they were making pies while I was eating a pie and the guy next to me was eating a pie. Pie pie pie. Pie pie pie pie pie. They must make a lot of pies.

I've made chicken pot pie from scratch before, but it was kind of a long, annoying, "never gonna do that again" kind of thing, having to make the pastry, cut the chicken, make the gravy, cook the vegetables, and (over) bake it. So...screw that! I'M NEVER MAKING PIE AGAIN! (Although I wouldn't, even if the Tuck Shop didn't exist.)

So check out the Tuck Shop if you want pie. Even if you don't want pie, you should go there because then you will want pie! Nice how that works out, eh?

Are we done yet?

"Dude, I'm so full." I patted by belly. Yup, there was definitely some congestion in there, and by "some" I mean bumper-to-bumper, car-honking congestion. It didn't get quite to the "road rage-induced expletive-filled screaming" kind of congestion; if it had, I would be lying on my bed, moaning in various states of digestive pains, instead of writing this blog entry while wearing pants that suddenly feel too tight.

"Yeah, me too." Helen stared at our plate filled table. The plates themselves were still rather full, not because the food wasn't good but because there was enough to feed five people. It was here. And there. In my stomach. In my mouth. Probably invading some other organ I didn't know I had.

"Um...why am I still eating?" Mechanically, a forkful of yellow rice found its way into my mouth. And then, conveniently, my mouth chewed. And then, it just keeps goin!, my tongue guided the chewed up rice mass into my throat, after which the rice embarked on a journey to the dungeon level, acid-filled pits of digestive doom. And then I repeated this over and over again while wondering, "Why I was still eating?"

I just don't know. Just. Don't. Know. Or perhaps...RICEISCRACK. Yes, that's it.

yellow rice

At El Castillo De Jagua in the Lower East Side (dangerously close to Sugar Sweet Sunshine), you have a choice between white or yellow rice with the main entrees. For whatever reason, I went with yellow, figuring that since I'd never make yellow rice in my kitchen I must experience its possible life altering properties outside my dorm. Conveniently, it went with our unintentional dinner theme of "food that comes in shades of yellow or brown". Yellow rice, brown pork, yellow-ish brown oxtail, fried yellow plaintains, brown beans, garlic bread with pats of yellow butter, down to our yellow papaya drinks. Our food had jaundice.

Mmmm...tasty jaundice...[rubs belly]

No really, it was tasty. I have yet to have a fine dining experience in NYC, but it's so much easier to be pulled to those restaurants you've never heard of that serve good, cheap hearty food. Also, I feel less guilty spending my parents money to feed myself. (If I ate fine dining, I'd feel like I have to pay for that myself; spending half a week's paycheck on one meal takes some planning. Then again, I frivolously spend money on food on a daily basis, which adds up. Also, I don't think parents should have kids if they don't intend to let the kids...eat a lot. Yeah. That thought wasn't well-formed at all, as most parents wouldn't want a kid like me who's a lawnmower...for lawns made out of carbs.) I found ECDJ while prowling through menupages (prowling like an obese lion who can use a computer) and was drawn to it for its good ratings, inexpensive prices, convenient location, and its specialty in Dominican food, which I've never had before.

From the daily specials menu (which actually has many items that are available every day), I ordered the pernil (roast pork) and Helen ordered the rabito guisado (oxtail stew). Not listed on the menu were the moutains of rice or the bowls of soupy red beans the dishes came with. Without the meat, it's doubtful we could've finish just the rice and beans, but here we were presented with fatty protein, starchy protein, and starchy starch. We also got some fatty starch in the form of fried sweet yellow plaintains. Oh boy. Um. Stomach? Definitely not large enough.

But did my hypothalamus care? Not really.

roast pork

Since I rarely eat pork in a form that isn't panko-encrusted and Japanese, I'm not very familiar with different forms of pork. Perhaps I don't like pork because I've had bad pork eating experiences? Hm. Well. In general, I guess I'm not a fan of anything super-fatty. Our plate of pork came with a slice of pig skin, like a shell of the pig's former squealing, lively self that, for our sake, was ended so he could be diced up and roasted to crispy, golden perfection. Yeah, I'm fine with that. So? Yeah? Actually, I remember watching an unnerving video of a pig being tortured (as though the video could be labeled "Sunshine Happy Fun Time for Children Ages 5-10") and thinking how much that sucked. But alas...

Our dead piggy tasted good! Although lots of moistness is a nice thing in meat, this was right in the middle and wasn't too dry or moist. The tenderness was right in the middle as well. I know this description doesn't really help you, but overall I thought it was great, especially considering the $8 pricetag. THe oxtail stew was good too, but I liked the pork more, largely because it was easier to eat and didn't necessitate poking tender meat out of bone shards. Dammit, I'm lazy.

fried plaintains

I've rarely eaten fried plantains in my life (once, maybe) but I liked them. These babies were hot, fresh from being bathed in hot oil. I didn't like them enough to think about getting them again, but you can't really go wrong with fried carbs. Fat and carbs are the building blocks of tastiness. They're also among the building blocks of coronary failure, but you know...just don't eat them every day and I'm sure you can stave off heart disease for a while, after the cancer sets in.

HAR HAR HAR! Helen and I talked about how we're pretty much all doomed to get some kind of disease. Part of the reason I did the raw food diet was to avoid getting sick or putting myself on the road to massive organ failure. "Too many people suffer from disease and dammit, I'm not going to fall into that trap." I decided that when I was 18. Yeah, okay. (Another thing I thought about at the time was that teenagers seem to think they're invincible, which bothered me. Then again, using food as a way to become "invincible" is pretty stupid too, as I'm sure conditioning your body to eating only raw food can be detrimental at some point.) The world we live in is saturated with chemicals and poisons, so while I'm not advising you to go all out and eat a tub of frosting (mmm...no, no, Robyn), you could eat a spoonful. Or two.

papaya milkshakes

The milkshakes were the only things we could finish in their entirety. While I felt pretty full when my plate was only 1/3rd empty, I ate another third before deciding I was really done (the "second wave" of fullness) and that consuming any more food would result in me looking preggers/the necessitattion of carting me out on a wheelbarrow. The final bill came out to $15 per person with tip. Sometimes I feel like food becomes tastier when it does less damage to your wallet.

outside

I hate it when it's hard to find a restaurant because they don't clearly display the name. In this case, it's hard to miss a restaurant that displays it three times, one of those times in blazing neon letters for the sight-impaired. Or the blind.

Overall, I'd recommend the restaurant if you like hearty food in the form of meat and rice (vegetarians should probably stay away) and not spending too much money. The restaurant is large, not loud, has just enough lighting (not dim nor blinding) and the service is fast, at least when it's not that busy. Also, I loved the milkshake; just thick enough, frothy, and sweet (although possibly too sweet, if you don't have tastebuds like mine.)

mm, creamy

Naturally, we went to Sugar Sweet Sunshine afterwards. Funny how you can be 110% full at one time, take a stroll to a bakery, and forget that you just ate a ginormous meal and cramming in more sweets probably isn't a great idea unless you like the feeling of internal combustion. My hope for the future (besides world peace and and end to starvation) is that the human body will develop another stomach to handle desserts, or perhaps our physical chemistries will adapt to surviving on only refined sugars and starches. It's doubtful, but a girl can dream.

peanut butter ice box pie

pistachio cupcake

We shared a slice of peanut butter ice box pie and a pistachio cupcake. I could say these both tasted like grade F cardboard to make you feel better about not getting to eat them, but...nope, they encapsulated all that I love about Sugar Sweet Sunshine; sweet, simple, fresh, and flavorful. Or SSFF (not sure how you'd pronounce that). It probably wasn't a good idea to alternate bites of cupcake and pie since the pie was much sweeter, but you could see the different sugar levels as a good thing with the cake acting like a palate cleanser for the pie. The pie filling was like very light, sweet peanut butter (wow, how's that for a crappy description), or a thick, heavy mousse (another crappy description which really doesn't tell you much unless you share my idea of what mousse is like). AS yummy as peanut butter is, it's not a good idea to eat it straight since without something to break the peanut butter, you'll probably end up choking. The pie filling was like peanut butter that you could eat without stopping to wash down with something else, for better or worse. The pistachio cupcake didn't taste very sweet in comparison to the pie, but I'm sure it still had diabetes-inducing properites. The cake was "just right" in moistness and fluffiness. Bring a friend and split desserts. ;)

If I ever doubted my love for food, last night should have told me that I AM INSANE. Helen is one of the most fun, nice and comfortable people I've ever eaten with and I'm thankful that I've gotten to meet her. If you don't read her blog, Grab Your Fork, start doing that now! Besides talking about food and whipping out our cameras every two seconds, we discussed...oh, that was mainly it. But it was interesting to talk about differences between Australian and American food (like cheesecake, chili, puddings/custards) while STUFFING OUR FACES. I like eating in most cases, even alone, but eating with someone who enjoys it as much (or more) than you is my most preferable way to eat.

That's my estimation of how much I've ingested today.

When I say having leftovers and food in my kitchen that is more than just an ingredient are dangerous, I mean it.

food production lab leftovers

However, on Thursday after my food production lab was over, for which we made 11 types of dishes (including the drinks), we were left with lots of leftovers. Basically, it was enough to cater another meal (and some of the food was saved for another event that night). Given guidelines to prepare food for 50 people, we prepared aboyut 50 servings of everything; naturally, 50 people's worth of food was far from consumed. Even if there were that many people at the buffet-style luncheon, given to the graduate students after they made their end-of-semester presentations (yes, we were like free labor except we actually paid for it in our tuitions), each person certainly wouldn't eat one serving of everything.

dig in time

Of course, we were excited to actually eat the food we prepared. After preparing foor during the three hour lab the night before and three hours Thursday morning preceding the lunch event, it was time to reap the benefits of preparing craploads of food in the form of mountainous piles of leftovers. While we all felt tired from making pies and frying chicken breasts (50 OF THEM), our eyes lit up when we were allowed to cut into the untouched pan of vegetable lasagna, dig into the platter of chicken (which we had actually been snacking on during the preparation...not that anyone else has to know that), hoard the golden, flaky biscuits, among a gazillion other foodstuffs that ultimately left us comatose and moaning, "Oh god, my stomach...ooh, there's more chicken!" (One of my group partners offered me the last bit of pumpkin pie and I refused, saying "Noo, I've eaten too much and I'm full." After a while of trying to push it on me, she suggested that I take a bite of it so she wouldn't have to eat the whole thing. I immediately complied and she thought it was hilarious. I did too...dammit, that's what people expect of me! I AM THE PIE EATER. GIVE ME YOUR PIE.)

damn you, delicious cornbread and biscuits

Sigh. It was actually a lot of fun, despite the labor that cut into my precious "Japanese snack essay" writing time. Cooking and sharing food with six of my classmates showed me how much fun it could be to have a potluck with friends, if I were ever to round up a group of friends that all knew each other and who loved to cook (it's not going to happen). However, those leftovers? Well.

I took seven biscuits, about eight pieces of cornbread, maybe eight chicken breast halves, some of the accompanying reduced orange-cranberry sauce, and some of the spinach with toasted almonds and dried cranberries salad. Yeeaah. Can you predict what happened?

Today I ate maybe four biscuits, not sure how much cornbread, four of the chicken breast halves, some sauce, and PLENTY OF DOOM. DOOM DOOM DOOM. In addition to that, I ate a 100 gram box of Pocky (over two "meals"), a good amount of this Julesjokolade bar and about 1/5th of the Tykk Lefse cake (the cake is ginormous), two persimmons, and...water.

It felt wrong to eat that much (and as you can see, no vegetables were harmed in today's diet, which is a bad thing) yet I kept doing it. Why? Do I have no sense of self-control? I obviously could feel my stomach filling up and it wasn't like I was expecially ravenous, nor did I have any reason to be since I DON'T MOVE (seriously, I've been in front of this computer for so long today that I'm feeling a little woozy), but I can't explain it besides that having food around means I'll eat it, whether I'm hungry or not. It's not like the food was especially snack-worthy either, besides the Pocky, which I absolutely cannot buy anymore of.

goodbye, tastiness

I don't have enough limits. Or I don't have enough sense. Basically, something's definitely wrong here and I hate feeling like my eating is out of control. Yes, you can chuckle at that (hell, I would!), but the real problem is when I'm alone, not with other people. It seems okay for me to pig out when connecting with another human being, as that is a reason to pig out, but alone? What's up with that? I spent most of my day inside besides that small sliver of time when I had to mail a package and get a treat for a friend's birthday gift, but otherwise the past 12 hours or so of my day were literally sucked up into a black hole by THE INTERNET. THE INTERNET OF DOOM. THE DOOM...NET. YEAH.

I started looking over my food blog essay and I'm wondering why the hell I'm writing this entry. I'm not telling you anything interesting about a restaurant, a recipe, a something-or-other, but just egotistically blabbing about my gluttony in a negative manner. If it were funnier then I think it'd be okay, but it's not even funny! Dammit. I know there are quite a few readers out there so many I'm hoping that someone will shout out and say, "Hell yeah Robyn, I too have eaten an entire box of Pocky and taken the lives of two chickens and padded my stomach with four biscuits in one day" but a part of me would hope that no one has had the same experience.

I remember freaking out last year when I had my "Introduction to Food Science" class (essentially a cooking class) since I couldn't help but bring home leftovers every now and then, which of course resulted in me overeating leftovers. I don't know how I lost the sense of self-control, as I certainly didn't pig out like this when I was little, but it's been with me as long as I've stayed in NYC. Actually, it was with me beforehand, but overeating raw food didn't seem as detrimental as eating ALL THAT CHICKEN AND BISCUITS AND POCKY.

No one in their right mind who knows me in just the sliiiightest bit would have a hard time getting me a gift. It's quite obvious what I like: penguins.

I mean, food. I like penguins too though. No, no, not as food...nevermind.

However, over the holidays should my friends indulge me with delicious edibles that they know I will happily consume in excess quantities? Or should they get me a nice, non-girth-inducing book? Hm?

For some reason (er, holidays), I've been bombarded with delicious, sugary treats in the past few days, the kind that go right into that "black hole" stomach (not the official scientific term) that fails to get full and actually gets negative-full (I suppose the word for that is "empty" but...whatever) the more you eat (here's another pathethesis [uhoh, made up word] parenthesis! for no reason other than that I'm on a roll here). Result? Lots and lots of empty, delicious calories, swimming around my bloodstream like killer whales, ready to pounce (yeah, you know whales pounce) on anything of remotely healthy nature, like penguins. My penguiny vitamins. Yeah. Uh.

...As you can see, the effects are already showing. What's next? WHAT? More pointless metaphors? Yeah! In fact. My stomach is a torrential bag of custard. Torrential custard.

Nevermind. I love my friends and am honestly happy with all their gifts, despite that I could probably crush them all by sitting on them (or at least crush some of the squishier organs), especially after eating all the food stuffs they've bestowed upon me.

Norwegian junk food

I did a food trade with Erik, sending him a few boxes of Pocky and a handmade plush dumpling in exchange for Norwegian ingestibles. He gave me a GIGANTIC BAR OF CHOCOLATE, a GIGANTIC LEFSE-THING, and two little bars of chocolate. Sweet sjokolade Jesus! I've never had lefse before but from what I do know about it, it's potato-flour flat tortilla-esque bread. I suppose this cake is like layers of lefse with some caramel-esque substance in between, resulting in an interestingly sweet and salty, dense biscuit-esque cake. ROBYN APPROVES. (chomp)

Mont Blanc that isn't Japanese!

Two days ago I went to Financier to pick up a small cake for Patricia, aka "the friend who lives in my dorm and equally enjoys food and music, making her cooler than most people, no offense to you", as a surprise, along with something for myself, *ahem*. I couldn't resist the Mont Blanc because 1) I've never seen one outside of a Japanese bakery before and 2) aw, it's got a snowman! Unfortunately, I accidentally dropped the box upside-down, resulting in a Mont Blanc avalanche that paralyzed the snowman/smashed his brain. He's recovering in the fridge, but the doctors don't think he's going to make it. They assured me he'll still taste good though.

Since I didn't see Patricia online two nights ago, I figured she wasn't in. Yesterday morning (well, more like afternoon since I woke up at 1), she IMs me to say she has food for me. Golly gee, I have food for you! What perfection is it to have a surprise food exchange with a friend? IT IS. PERFECTION. The planets were in the right alignment for food exchanging. First off, the cake wasn't for the holidays as much as it being her 20TH BIRTHDAY yesterday. (I also got her a ticket for Of Montreal since a little piece of cake would've been...sad.) In no way would I have expected her to give me cupcakes from Cupcake Cafe along with two packs of Kasugai gummies and a bar of Dagoba chocolate. WHY MUST YOU SPOIL ME? WHYY? WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?! (raises fists towards the ceiling)

...Not that I'm going to complain. The gummies packaging instructed me to immediately consume 10 pieces in a row or else I'd offend the traditional Japanese spirit of junk food. I may have read it wrong since I don't know Japanese, but whatever. The god of junk food is a modern addition to Shintoism. Kasugai are majorly addictive and I HAVE TWO PACKS FOR MYSELF. Doom. Doom! Full of doom! Doom! (Want me to say it again? Okay.) DOOM.

mmm, cupcake

I've never had Cupcake Cafe's cupcakes before, but Kathryn warned me that they are mega buttery. Sweet buttery Jesus (why do I keep referring to Jesus?), she wasn't kidding. This is the closest thing to eating plain butter that I've found without actually eating plain butter. The texture of the frosting is like butter and the taste is like...butter, but not, because that would be disgusting. The cake was just okay (it had been sitting arounf for a day which surely affected it), but I did like the buttery frosting. Only problem was the after effect of coronary failure. It takes a while to kick it but you know it's going to happen.

spoon...for me

When I first started writing this entry (yesterday...yes, I'm just that slow), I hadn't eaten the Mont Blanc yet. As you can see from the photo, I did eat it. Yup. It was good. Like I had suspected, it wasn't as cakey as the Japanese kind, but there was a very thin layer of cake on the bottom soaked in some kind of...something. (I think traditionally it's soaked in some alcoholic substance, which may have been the case for this one too but if so, the alcohol wasn't strong enough for me to notice.) The chestnut taste was subdued, but chesnut flavor isn't strong to begin with. There were nice chestnut chunks in the puree, which was covered with a thick layer of whipped cream (ratio of chestnut puree to cream was about 1:1.5). My only complaint is that it could've been sweeter, not that it wasn't sweet enough but sometimes I like it when sugar kicks me in the head and leave me comatose.

egg custard tart

The lovely Mary who works in my dorm but doesn't actually live here, dammit, gave me a golden egg custard tart OUT OF THE BLUE. Arrh! (more fist shaking) Earlier that day I had forced her to take two packs of Pocky Almond Crush Honey White which, like all kinds of Pocky, I should never buy again because it tastes delicious and can easily be consumed by the bucket-load. We like to feed each other, yes'm.

My first bite of the egg custard tart crust was an epiphanic moment: this is the best Chinese food ever. Yes, I just ignored China's rich culinary one-gazillion year old history to focus on the humble $0.60-or-less egg custard tart. A flickr friend described it as "flan in a pastry cup", which is a good description and kind of funny because I'm not much of a flan or pastry cup aficionado. But bundle them together and you have one of the best foods ever, even better if its straight from the oven when the custard isn't quite set and slowly flows out like a soft-boiled egg, except much tastier than a soft-boiled eggs because those remind me more of eating liquified unborn chickens...which I guess is what they are.

pudding

I wish I could say the fooding ended there, but THE FOODING NEVER ENDS, DOES IT? No. God no. Shoot me. I remembered that in my fridge lied a carton of milk already passed its expiration date and an egg that probably also passed its expiration date (no, they weren't actually bad, but I didn't want to test the wrath of the expiration gods for much longer). In my cupboard was a bar of 70% chocolate I didn't really like, mainly because of its texture. What do with these ingredients? Chocolate pudding, naturally! This would've been a great idea if I DID NOT LIKE PUDDING SO DAMN MUCH, resulting in me eating some as a midnight snack and a bit of breakfast...and possibly in my sleep. My unborn descendents will eat it too.

Pudding is so easy to make, I don't know why anyone would buy a mix. Check out the recipe; it's basically milk, sugar, cornstarch, and egg. I used the whole egg instead of just yolk because I didn't see why it would make much difference (I don't think it does) and I used half the sugar like the commenters recommended. While I could've used 4 ounces of chocolate culled from multiple chocolate bars, I just used that one 70% chocolate bar I had, about 2.5 ounces. I wasn't too impressed by the pudding when it was hot and freshly whisked out of the pot, thinking it wasn't sweet or chocolate-y enough, but after chilling it in the fridge it tasted much better. The recipe says it makes two servings but unless you're serving two pudding-eating monsters, I think it's better for four people. (Or in my case, ONE. Yeah, I'm probably going to eat all the pudding by myself. Sad.)

I did eat normal food at some point, stir-frying some snow peas and leftover chicken from last week, but my diet was definitely sugar-based this weekend. Actually, it usually is. Believe it or not, I am starting to worry about the health implications of loading my bloodstream with refined sugars, as I'd rather not wake up one day to mood swings and obesity to decide, "Oh...time to cut out that sugar! But I can't because I'M MASSIVELY ADDICTED TO IT." My impression is that a lot of people have problems with sugar because they practially have an IV hooked up to soda or other sugary liquids. I still remember my brother informing me every so helpfully that one could lose weight by cutting out soda.

"I don't drink soda..."

"Oh, you're just screwed then."

Yup. Seriously though, I should cut down the sugar.

Thank you very much for your help! I've closed the comments as I'm pretty much done with my essay...and it's only around 1:30 AM. GREAT. YEAH, I suck worse than that crappy parfait I had at Whole Foods.

The procrastinator in me needs to die.

Quick, easy questions about blogging that would best be answered by tomorrow because they would help me with my essay (although the other comments on my other entry helped a lot too). You're all pretty quick with commenting, which is lovely.

...Oh god, we're all addicted to blogs. Maybe it's not so lovely:

• FOOD BLOGGERS: Why do you blog? Why did you start a blog? Be a concise or elaborate as you wish/your boredom permits. I could suggest answers but I don't want to put ideas in your head. Obviously though, we all like food, so perhaps something that goes beyond that.
• FOOD BLOG READERS (which includes bloggers): Why do you read food blogs? Again, elaborate, concise, doesn't matter, although it probably goes beyond a love for food because I know a lot of people who love food and don't read a million blogs...but as I said, we're addicted. I don't want to know why you read my blog in particular, but the food blogosphere as a whole.

I guess I should answer these questions? If anyone's curious...

I write a blog because I must be partially obsessed with documentation. A difference between my blogging habits and other people's blogging habits (although I could be wrong) is that I have a gazillion blogs and website. Okay, not a gazillion, but I was just thinking the other day how so many food blogs were affected by the brief typepad suicide. I was wondering why so many people use typepad and it's because they have...a single blog, for the most part. I hoard so much crap online and only last year did I decide to organize the hoarding (hoarganizing), splitting my main blog into this food blog, a music blog, and the too-oft-updated livejournal of brainfarts. When I die, you'll still find a gazillion pages with "roboppy" on them. Hot damn, I'll be immortalized on the web! Wait, that's creepy.

I don't know if that answered the question. Er. Well, I like meeting new people, obviously. I don't take part in the community blogging events though, which kind of goes in line with my lack of community involvement in real life. I like having a small group of friends, although in reality I have very few friends...in close proximity. That also explains my tendency to blog and build relationships that way. If my life were busier, I wouldn't be able to blog this much.

Another thing is that I want to publicize food that I really like, or those that I don't. This is more important if I come across some great hole-in-the-wall or a really delicious cake that "no one" knows about. There are lots of places in NYC that probably deserve more attention and I want to help...erm, bring more attention to them. This goes in line with the obsession to document everything.

I like complaining. If I ate an army's worth of food and live (half consciously) to tell the tale, you will hear it.

I like hearing from other people that I'm not alone in my habits of eating enough food to feel small countries or enough sugar to kill most bacteria/humans, among other things. I really love getting comments.

And I suppose I'm a lot more egotistical than I think I am. It's not that I think my thoughts are so read-worthy, but it would be sad if I didn't think anyone else wanted to read them.

As for why I read blogs, it's a way for me to find new places to eat, to read great food writing for free, and to take part in culinary tourism from my butt-numbing chair. I'd say more but I think I have to go to work now. I was supposed to start at 1PM but the DOOR WAS LOCKED and I have yet to learn how to pick locks or walk through walls.

If you don't follow my flickr account, you'll miss a lot of stuff. I've somehow managed to procrastinate not only in school work but also in blogging, which makes you wonder what I do with the rest of my time...

EATING, READING FOOD BLOGS, AND EDITING FOOD PHOTOS, perhaps. My life officially has no meaning. Yet here I am, to recap a few weeks of things I failed to mention. Be afraid. Very. Afraid.

BUT FIRST, there's still my questions about blogging. They're not super-important, as I think my paper is screwed anyway and it's unlikely that I'll let any of you read it even though I quoted some of you because it's kind of horrible, but if I get a good grade I'll change my mind. One problem is that I realized I "needed" scholarly sources. I gotta say, the scholarly world ain't that interested in food blogs. I have found information about blogging in general that I suppose I'll shove in for the sake of having something that looks valid, but that information is about more professional-level blogging. There are innumerable (well, I could count them...but no) newspaper/magazine articles about food blogging but that's not the same as a journal of some sort.

Doom.

But back to food! It's time to go back. Waaaay back...[cue wobbly filter that makes you feel like you're going back in time because for some reason going back in time involves making the scene look like the top of a lake disturbed by flying rocks. Also, cue the dinkly chime-y music.]

curry noods

Before my food production final, I went to Men Kui Tei with my classmate/friend Nancy. I'm not a big ramen fan, but I do love curry and I had yet to eat a combination of the two. Curry ramen is basically ramen in soup...with lots of curry plopped on top. Mysterious dish, this is not. Tasty? Yeah. I can't think of anything that was wrong with it besides that it was GINORMOUS, HOLY CRAP, IT'S A SATELLITE DISH FILLED WITH NOODLES. (Okay, I'm exaggerating...but it's kinda huge.) The noodle texture didn't taste too soft or hard to me and the soup was full of curry, aka tasty delicious. I guess I still prefer rice with curry, but of course, you can't go wrong with noodles and curry or any carb and curry combination (I haven't had something like "curry on toast" yet, but I don't know why that wouldn't work). I also got a small grilled eel donburi, meaning that as usual, I ate enough for two normal people, or 10 babies. The restaurant is clean and bright and much larger than it looks from the outside. Lots of ramen, lots of rice dishes, lots of small plates, and not enough room in my stomach to hold it all in. God dammit.

spicy congee

Wouldn't you want to wake up to that bowl of congee every morning? Eeeeevery moooorning? Don't you like glistening oil and unidentifiable rice mash? I went to Congee Village with "congee is my comfort food, gimme now" Mary. The restaurant doesn't say this up front, but part of their policy is to rape your eyes with shiny bamboo. It's everywhere. It's not awful looking--it gives the place a warm, "I'm stuck in southeast Asia" feel. You could say the MoMA rapes your eyes with stark white walls. Why am I using "rape" so much? It's not funny! (But you know...it kind of is. Unless you have experience with it. In which case, it's not. Sorry.)

Bottom line with Congee Village: congee good, dumplings bad. I don't know about you, but the congee I ate growing up was watery rice crap where you could see all the rice grains swimming in flavorless, opaque water. The only way to make this stuff taste good (and I love rice!) was to eat it with condiments, like pork floss and sweet pickles (of course, the congee wasn't meant to taste good...but still). The congee at Congee Village is like a blended rice porridge with much more flavor than any other congee I had (because they had none). However, I still needed to add chili sauce to make it more to my liking: BURNING HOT. Okay, not that hot. Kinda hot. I got the preserved egg and pork congee since I figured I never eat preserved egg and I rarely eat pork. Preserved egg? Not my thing. This kind of pork? Not my thing. It was still good though and easily the best congee I've ever had.

pumpkin trifle

After bonding over congee like all slightly Chinese girls do, we headed to my favorite bakery, Sugar Sweet Sunshine, where my eyes caught sight of seasonal pumpkin trifle. "Pumpkin cake, eggnog puddin' and whipped cream": lordy. Why don't more bakeries make trifle? Pudding? Cake? TOGETHER? Hell, there should be a place that ONLY makes trifle. I'd live there...and die there from obesity. Do you really need me to tell you what the trifle tasted like? Channeling the spirits of Teen Girl Squad: SOOOO GOOD.

chocolate bomb trifle

I got the chocolate bomb trifle so Mary and I could try two things. It wasn't as good as the pumpkin, not because it was bad by itself but because pumpkin pwnz most other things. Despite that it wasn't as swoon-worthy as the pumpkin trifle, I ate the whole thing. Horrified, I was. Mary didn't finish hers and, in a moment of intelligence, bought the leftovers home. Maybe I should do that someday, if I don't eat everything in my path beforehand.

hand pulled noodles

Since I've never had hand-pulled noodles before, I thought I may as well try them. Yes, I live life to its fullest: "I'M GONNA EAT ALL THESE NOODS BEFORE I DIE." From reading Plate of the Day, I found out that I lived about 10 minutes away from Foo Shing Hand Fresh Noodle Shop (hand fresh, people!) and after getting some things from Hong Kong Supermarket, I picked up a little bucket of beef noodle soup for $4 from the tiny shop where a dude in the back thwacks a dough log into long, thin strands of noodly goodness, hand fresh style!

huh?

They have other stuff, but you know me: not Chinese literate in any shape or form! Never will be! My brain has proven itself immune to Chinese; you can ask my parents. I asked the woman at the register what their menu was and she told me three or four things. I may not know Chinese but I can count (maybe), and it seems like there are more than four things. Translation, please.

So...noodles, fresh from the hand; how are they? Pretty good. They certainly taste fresh, unlike any other noodle I've had. However, I like noodles more al dente, so maybe I'm just not up for the fresh texture. Despite that they noodles tasted soft, they held up well to my chopstick jabbing, which I wasn't expecting. Soup was fine, beef was too tendon-y for my taste, but there are people who just like to eat PLAIN BEEF TENDON (them crazies) so I suppose they'd like this beef.

One morning before work I was walking around and thinking about food despite not being hungry, as usual, so I stopped (or walked a few blocks out of my way) into City Bakery to experience their flaky demigod: the pretzel croissant. The pretzel croissant is a $3 croissant with a salt-sprinkled shell that is harder than those of regular coissants but retains mega-layered squishy innards.

pretzel croissant innards

I'm glad to say it was worth $3, although I wasn't so enamoured by its buttery pastry-ness that I'd feel the need to eat it again. It's...well, you can see. This isn't one of those croissants that disappointingly resembles a hot air balloon in air-to-substance ratio. It's not especially pretzel-y but I guess that's a good name.

Choux Factory cream puff

Despite not being much of a cream puff fan, I went to Choux Factory last week since I was curious to try it and figured I may as well continue my "eating crap" theme of the day and destroy my immune system. Their cream puffs are pretty small but tasted fine to me. The filling is heavier and more like pudding than Beard Papa's, which I think is more airy and whipped cream-esque. The puff is interesting looking, like a rock mid-explosion. Thankfully it doesn't taste like a rock: crispy outside, soft inside. I don't have cream puff standards so I'll just say...it was good. Not something I'd need to try again, but it was a nice snack.

spicy chicken sammich

On Monday I went to Cafe Zaiya with Diana for a quick bite before going to the ITP show. I couldn't decide on any of the rice-based dishes, so I got a sammich, which is more like a burger-sammich than a tea-sammich. They carry both kinds but you know me...I like my fried chicken cutlet. This sandwich is officially my new favorite thing at Cafe Zaiya, not that it's amazing but it's just good. It's spicy, has a lot of chicken, doesn't overdo the sauce, and the bun is substantial (as it should be, from a bakery). Also, it's cheaper ($3.75 or so) than any other sandwich I've seen that would be anywhere near as delicious (to me, at least). IT WINS! THE SAMMICH! OH GOD. Maybe I'll eat it for lunch today.

...I ate more, but I think that's enough.

log o' cake!

You've probably heard of Buche de Noel/Yule Log, the French cake that looks like a log. (Or is it a log that looks like a cake? Hmmmmmm?!)

The origins of this most famous and delicious of French pastries can be traced back to the ancient Celtic tradition of celebrating the winter solstice. On this day, the shortest of the year, the Celts would search for a large trunk of either oak, beech, elm or cherry and would burn it. The burning log was a symbol of the rebirth of the sun as well as an offering of thanks to the sun for returning to the earth. [about.com]

Uh huh. And that's why we eat it in frosting-slathered-cake form today: TO HONOR THE SUN! Wait..no. I have no idea when I last had Buche de Noel, but I know I've had it at some point in my life. They're not very traditional with the Chinese crowd, I guess (my family doesn't have any Christmas traditions, or any holiday traditions in general). However, I had to snap that photo at Fay Da Bakery for a few reasons. As you can see, it's got two Santas (100% MORE SANTA THAN THE LEADING COMPETITOR) and some funky, somewhat out of place whipped-cream dollop fungal growths. There's also this:

It's the log of Euro!

Euro Log. HAR HAR, OH, those Chinese bakeries; they're funny! I can only imagine how they chose the name.

"What should we call this dessert?"

"I dunno, isn't it a yule log or something?"

"No no, need something different. What the hell is a yule?"

"I dunno. Is it European?"

"..."

"...?"

Then they got drunk and chose "Euro." More examples of drunken debauchery:

MERRY CHRISTMAS

Merry Christmas, without caps

Santa tramples blueberries

The cakes aren't ugly, but I feel like they'd be better off without the dioramas. Otherwise, they're kind of cute. Kind. Of. I love how they have such a wide variety of plastic Santas, as though they ordered a grab bag of assorted Christmas-themed decorations (from the Assorted Christmas-Themed Decoration Depot) and tried to figure out how to position the mutant poinsetta alongside the red-faced Santa and the "my legs are permanently stuck in this goo, please get me out before Santa eats me" deer as naturally as possible. Or is that as unnaturally as possible? (shrugs) Whatever, I'd still eat it.

I went to Chinatown yesterday with Diana and Lia for some Goodies. Interesting name, no? If you look at the I as an L, it becomes Goodles, which I think someone should name a restaurant after. Their slogan could be "Goodle's Got the Goodies" or something...oh god, nevermind. (Oo lookie, there's a Goodle.com! KOREA TOOK MY GOODLE!)

soup dumplings

The first thing the waitress asked us is if we wanted soup dumplings. Man, who DOESN'T? (...Vegetarians? Oh, right.) Lia asked for pork dumplings and then there they were...a million minutes later. Or less. (Probably less since a million minutes is almost two years.) It seemed to take quite a while is what I'm saying. I'm really bad at rating soup dumplings ("Mmm, tastes like...that other soup dumpling I had at that other restaurant that might be totally different") but I'd say that these weren't as salty as other ones I've had and the pork was especially...porky. Yup. There's your review. I would've liked them if they were more soupy (this is what we need: "Soup Dumpling Deluxe") but they were still great and I'D EAT THEM AGAIN, YES.

steamed flounder

We started off with steamed flounder since, aside from the dumplings, this was another dish that the waitress suggested. Or rather, she said, "WANT SOME FISH?" Uh...okay! I like fish. And I actually really like this kind of steamed, whole fish in light ginger and scallion sauce. Diana helped serve the fish by scraping the delicate meat off the skeleton with a large spoon. Otherwise, I probably would've just dug in and made a pokey bone-filled mess.

eggplant with garlic sauce

I've rarely had eggplant in my life and the times I have had it, they weren't great. They were more like the opposite of great. The phrase, "Why would anyone eat satanic eggplant, WHYY?!" comes to mind. However, I've never had it in a Chinese restaurant before and they make it differently, as in "higher in tastiness, not affiliated with Satan". Lia described eggplant as a meaty vegetable. I look at it as kind of starchy and creamy, oozing with fatty goodness after it's been doused in cooking oils. Mmmmmm, you know you want it. I'd love to eat this again.

vegetable dumplings

Diana's vegetable dumplings were pretty good! Lots of filling of the typical vegetable dumpling type. If I could describe them, I would. Unsurprisingly, I CANNOT. Oh well, you'll just have to try some yourself.

sauteed eel in hot pot

Under the "specialities" section of the menu, I spotted this eel dish. Eel! Does eel not conjure up images of super deliciousness? WELL?! I love eel, and you should too. I've only had Japanese-style eel before, but I figured Chinese would also be palatable.The eel doesn't come in one fillet but in a gazillion thinly sliced pieces in a bowl of sweet and spicy sauce, bringing to mind some sort of eel spaghetti. Another difference is that while unagi is grilled to a buttery-soft texture, this eel was...not. It would be a bowl of eel porridge if it were that soft, so thankfully this eel had more toughless than unagi. Mung bean sprouts went well with the eel because the eel on its own would be really...eel-y. Y...yes. I didn't have any rice so it was important that I have something to cut through the eel. (As for why I didn't have rice, they just didn't give me any. It was kind of neglectful since I asked for it twice, but it was for the best that I didn't eat any since I was stuffed in the end and as you probably know, I eat a lot of carbs.) Although I prefer Japanese eel, I still loved this dish and would eat it again.

chestnut cream tart

Since we were stuffed, we naturally strolled to Fay Da on Mott Street to stare at their Christmas cakes and get dessert. I've tried most of what they sell (or can at least imagine what a lot of it tastes like) so I had a hard time deciding. Their chestnut cream tart stood out as something Mont Blanc-esque: a pastry crust filled with whipped cream and chestnut puree, somewhat randomly topped with a strawberry half and a melon ball (I could've done without the melon ball). It was pretty good, although the whipped cream was disappointing. Many Chinese pastries tend to have disappointing cream, but...but why? Nooo! NOOOO! I wish the chesnut puree were sweeter but it did had a good chestnut flavor. My suggestion for this dessert would be to lose the fruit, make better whipped cream, and double the sugar content. THERE, ALL BETTER.

I'm tired. Today my diet has consisted of chocolate, bread, a clementine, an Asian pear, and some too-salty Whole Foods potato chips. This is the kind of diet the USDA would recommend against. I'm gonna go relax and digest/get fat.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL YOU FUN FUN PEOPLE. EAT FOOD! GET TIRED!

All those years. The youthful heart. The carefree, reckless taste buds. You see, to saturate or unsaturate depends on one's taste. And my taste buds have gotten me into more trouble. And you don't want to think about what all those things are doing to your body. How many pieces of scrapple? How many hot dogs? Hot many peices of bacon? All those hoagies. All those steak sandwiches. Ice cream. man! I'm terrified. I'm in trouble. Because I suddenly realize that I am what I ate, and I'm frightened.

All that butter. And some of it was just casual. Casual. Sitting there. The butter was there. And the bread was there. So why not? Bread. With butter. It was casual. No harm. But there is no such thing as casual because it's on the side of my neck now.

Those are just some words of wisdom from Bill Cosby. Out of everyone who could give me a food-related book, I wouldn't have thought my brother would tap on my door and say, "Hey, have you read this book?" Do I read? No. Wait. Yes! Wait. I don't know. Yesterday my mum gave me a book about salt. WHAT A GREAT FAMILY I HAVE.

My Christmas was uneventful because we stopped doing the "presents" thing ages ago. At some point I realized that presents on Christmas was most important for people who needed a special occasion to get presents. In all honesty, I can get things I like...whenever. It's not just being spoiled, but...oh, I guess it is. God dammit.

I ate half a stick of butter. No no, not STRAIGHT, god, what kind of glutton do you think I am? Pshaaw. Uhm. I ate a lot of cookies. Oh, that's not any better you say? Yeah, you're right.

cookies?

Even though I halved this browned butter spritz recipe, I ended up with more than 4 dozen cookies. You know what happened to those cookies? IN MY BELLY. THE BUILDING BLOCKS OF ANOTHER SUBCUTANEOUS LAYER OF FAT. Or...CUTANEOUS LAYER OF FAT.

I ate other stuff, but do you really care? Cookies rule! These cookies would've ruled more if they had been covered in whipped cream or soaked in pudding, but you can't have it all if you want to not gain 10 pounds in your sleep.

I did eat a lot of these chocolates from Wegmans though...

bow to the chocolates

Crap. You could ask why I didn't get a smaller box--they didn't have any! I suppose the smaller boxes were snatched up by non-gluttonous people. The chocolates are good, but in my opinion they lost "something" compared to the older chocolates. The old ones weren't molded nor as colorful. I still like the new ones, but...I just don't know. However, the almond praline piece is one of the best things I have ever tasted. Ever. In my life. It was just that good. It might be annoying that I'm not actually describing this chocolate piece for you, but...really, what's the point? If you've had almond praline before, it tastes like that, but more almond praline-y.

And that concludes the worst food review ever.

Cookies? Check. Donuts? Check. Cocoa? Check. These and other foods are the makings of A DELICIOUSLY UNBALANCED MEAL THAT WILL WREAK HAVOC ON YOUR PANCREAS.

HAPPY LUNCH TIME

Beans? Check.

...Beans?

...BEANS. I'm sorry, but as cute as they are, beans do not fit into this 3x3 representation of HAPPY LUNCH TIME!! items. I guess that's what makes this stationery so awesome. Surprisingly, I didn't buy it, but I guess I have to retain some maturity. Things that says "HAPPY LUNCH TIME!!" (the exclamation marks are crucial) don't fit into the "mature" category. Shucks.

pork katsu set

I got me some pork. My mum and I went to Mitsuwa for dinner. I drove there and back, amazed as usual that I didn't crash into a truck/something else that would kill me. It was crowded, although not overly so. I wasn't hungry but it's always katsu time in my stomach, so I waited around 20 minutes for my plate of Berkshire pork katsu accompanied by a miso-based vegetable soup, a block of tofu, pickled vegetables, and some canned fruit.

Mmmmmmmm. It seems like a lot of food, but then you eat it all and YOU WANT MORE. JESUS, THEY PUT CRACK IN IT! While my mum is usually against fried foods, she told me to get this since I love katsu.

"Why did katsu become the only fried food that's okay to eat?"

"...Because it's Japanese."

Hey, I like that reasoning. My mum doesn't particularly like pork or fried food, yet here were the two evils rolled into one deliciously thin, golden, slightly crispy slab o' pig, thoughtfully served on a metal rack as to not make the underside undesirably soggy and fill your mouth with moistness where moistness doesn't belong. Next to the pork was a pile of shredded cabbage, a scoop of potato salad and a plop of mustard. I skipped the mustard and dipped the pork in the katsu sauce...er, both kinds. They both tasted good, not to the point that I'd guzzle them down in a cup, but I'd eat them with any savory food. Rice. Noods. Tato chip. Chicken. Biscuit. Bread. Squirrel. Etc.

Mitsuwa's seating area for the food court didn't have a barrier around it like the last time I went, but it still wasn't ready. There were "WET PAINT" signs around the perimeter and the tables and chairs looked set up. I can't imagine it would take more than a week to complete, but I didn't see any notice of the day it would officially be open. Until then, there's still two sections with temporary seating. It's kind of communal, but not!

My diet since I've gotten home has mainly been chocolate and things made out of chocolate. Gee, why is my waist getting mushier? Could it be...the sugar and fat based diet that will probably clog my arteries among other things? Sure, it's great having padding in case I fall down the stairs (uh) or someone throws a ball at me (double uh) and I need a protective fat layer to keep my organs from exploding upon impact, but it doesn't do wonders for my self esteem.

Chocolate's so tasty though, especially the kind with milk. Yeah, hold your tongue, I know what some of you are thinking: "MILK CHOCOLATE ISN'T REALLY CHOCOLATE. YOU MUST EAT DARK CHOCOLATE TO REALLY APPRECIATE CHOCOLATE. I AM SHOUTING, YES." Trust me, I've eaten a lot of dark chocolate and it turns out it's like alcohol to me. Too much and it tastes kinda...not good, besides making me queasy. (I don't really like any alcohol, but the more there is, the more I will hate it.) In particularly, I don't like fruity dark chocolate. The non-fruity kind is okay with me, although too much dark chocolate tends to make me feel like my innards have declared war on my brain, decreasing my ability to focus on anything. If you love chocolate, try eating 100%. EAT A GODDAMN CACAO BEAN. (I have.) Love it, you will not. If you do love it, you can wear my homemade sign that reads, "I AM INSANE, PLEASE HUG ME."

Funnily perhaps, I've eaten raw cacao beans because they've been marketed by raw foodists as a healthy food, or something like that. I know the worst part about chocolate is the sugar and milk (hoo boy, my favorites; bring on the death!) but it's just one of those things about raw food that makes me think..."Naah."

steamed fish

On a totally unrelated matter, I made this steamed fish for Christmas, one fillet for each of us (four in all). Season it however you want, put it in a parchment paper or foil pouch whose inside is brushed with fat (kind of like my insides!), leave it in a 400 degree oven for 20-25 minutes, bask in fish fumes (the good kind, not the "oh, we're by the Fulton Fish market" kind), and eeeat...preferable after you open the package. As usual, I didn't season them enough, but they were perfectly cooked in a bit of white wine and random stuff, in my case dill, lemon, and thyme. As far as easiness goes, it's one step away from a microwave but a gazillion and one times better.

For no reason, here are some random links, probably food related:

• Kathy ate chicken fetuses! Five! "It tasted remarkably like a fine cut of foie gras, buttery rich and smooth." Liver of force-fed duck or undeveloped chicks? It's your call. (Hey, why not combine them for twice the fun? :D)
• Down with percentages! A funny little comic...if you can relate to it.
• The only 149 chocolates you need to know about!...uh. Man, couldn't they have narrowed it down to at least 50 for the sake of those of us who are actually considering eating all these chocolates? This list needs a surgeon general's warning; 149's gonna give me cancer. Chocolate cancer. [via David Lebovitz]
• Elyse Sewell got a book deal! She's not a food blogger, but she's the funniest blogger who writes about food, in my opinion. Unfortunately, she wouldn't qualify for a food blog award. SHE IS THE FUNNIEST. I THINK. That's my opinion. Annoyingly, her book is only going to be available in Hong Kong, but I'm sure it will have food related things and assorted model-related debauchery. Surely the Internet will help me get this book. Otherwise, I'll smack it with...something heavy and blunt. Sorry, I'm not very familiar with heavy and blunt objects. Goat?

In case you weren't sure whether or not I eat too much, just check out the restaurant list I just made, linking eating places to their respective entries in this blog. I've made seven posts about Sugar Sweet Sunshine? Damn.

Since the list took me hours to make (which is why I'm still up past 5 AM), I hope you'll take a look. If you look, all your dreams will come true! You'll get that baby pony you always wanted! Jesus will love you, even if you hate him! I can't promise that any of these things will happen, but there are over 100 places on that list. Not counting NJ or the seven times I went to the Country Pancake House! Obviously, I should've started it sooner, but...ye know. I don't plan ahead. Responsible people plan ahead. Do I look responsible to you? (Don't answer that.)

Another thing: any idea what I can do for New Year's Eve besides nothing? Ahhh, Amy is letting me raid her house for crepes! Ringing in the New Year with things stuffed with Nutella! SWEET! And...um, the rest of the original entry: I'm planning on doing nothing while in my dorm--no joke. I'm kind of a loser and don't make plans. Last year, accompanied by Diana and my brother, I saw Dave Gorman's Googlewhack, which was one of the funniest things I've ever seen in my life. Good times were had. We laughed at the funny British man.

This year, the plan is loneliness and lack of laughter. Right ON. I suck. I bet I'll be too lazy to do anything but if anyone has a good fooding idea (for one?...um, maybe I need these things called "friends"; I don't know where I put mine) then leave a comment. I'd say call me, but I turned my cell phone off. Know why? NO ONE CALLS ME! HAHA. Oh. Funny.

...I could make this into a depressing entry, but I won't. No! Food blogging isn't depressing! It's fun! Ponies!