Venturing out

Yes, it's been about a month since I last posted. Most of my dining has been pretty boring -- not even photo worthy. It was survival eating. I have completed the 30 days of Paleo and am no longer sticking to it 100%. While I haven't gained any weight back, I have noticed a slight shift in my sleeping patterns. Still not the full-blown insomnia but still. Not severe enough for me to eschew those foods I truly love though.

I awoke this morning with a taste for barbeque. Normally I head to either KC's in Berkeley or Everett & Jones in either Berkeley or Hayward. Today I wanted something different so I read a bunch of online reviews. Decided to give The Brick Pig's House a try. (And was kind of sad to realize that it is in a neighborhood in which I looked at homes. I so need to move.)

The Brick Pig's boasts that their BBQ is Southern style instead of the usual KC style. Besides reading about this in online reviews and their website, I also got to hear this from the owner/cook. While I waited for my order, she came out to chat. She stuck around once I replied, "Yes, this is my first time here." We discussed the other places I usually frequent. We talked about differences in BBQ. I mentioned that my mother is from Virginia and around those parts they tend to make the vinegar-heavy Carolina BBQ. The owner of Brick Pig's knows how to make Carolina style but has decided to stick with the Little Rock, Arkansas recipe of her people.

Order in hand, I sped home. It was different but still tasty. Less smoke flavor than other places. And the sauce -- which I ordered on the side per usual -- had more of a vinegar tang than most. As such, it wasn't cloying sweet as the sauce at KC's can sometimes be. Oh, and did I mention that I also got peach cobbler? And that it was still warm when I got home?

Next time I'm trying the brisket. And one of the other cobblers. Because I'm so going back.

The flavor of the season

Last week I joined my friend Emerald for happy hour at the Lake Chalet. I've read mixed reviews on the place but it's a great place for happy hour. It will be even better when the weather becomes warm again and one can sit on the deck overlooking Lake Merritt. I do worry about playing the "What's that smell?" game however. (I still deeply love the ghostridin' portion of the video. Makes me want to head on down to Ghost Town. OK. Maybe not.)

I started off with the Lake Chalet's happy hour special of a Stoli Ginger Cosmo -- Stoli, lime, cranberry and housemade ginger syrup. I then moved on to the Dark and Stormy, pictured above. This contained rum, ginger beer, ginger syrup and lime juice.

After my outing, Maddie told me about a fabulous Ginger Sidecar -- or two or three that had been consumed recently. (Maddie had forgotten my caution that one should never consume more than two Sidecars in a single evening.) This involved fresh ginger being muddled with the brandy and cointreau.

The nail in the coffin? I was perusing the alcohol aisle at the large chain grocery store and spied a bottle of the new Ginger Infused Skyy Vodka. So yeah, I grabbed a bottle. Definitely a ginger kick.

While out today wandering the grocery store with no written list (a dangerous thing for me), I suddenly remembered ginger syrup. So out came the iPhone and as I had suspected, the recipe was simple. 3/4 cup sliced ginger (no need to peel), one cup of sugar, and two cups of water. Boil for about ten minutes. Then cool and strain.

I promptly mixed up a Dark and Stormy. Verdict? Less sugar next time. Like probably half as much. Went well with the sandwich of turkey, cranberry sauce and horseradish though.

Pins and needles

When Loma Prieta (This would be the earthquake that occurred during the World Series in 1989 for those of you from outside of Northern California.) happened, I lived in San Diego. When the Rodney King verdict came down, I was living in Virginia. Of course a month after the Rodney King verdict, I returned to California -- specifically Los Angeles -- to work for the summer. And the damage I saw made me want to cry. How could my people destroy our communities to this extent? I mean I understood the root of their anger and frustration -- things that the mainstream had failed to recognize, to understand. And it was to the detriment of all of us. I looked at burned out of streets of Los Angeles and my heart broke.

Fast forward. Oscar Grant got onto a BART train in San Francisco in the early morning hours of New Year's Day in 2008 heading back to Oakland. Something went down on the train and he ended up on his belly on the platform of the Fruitvale station. And then the officer, Johannes Mehserle, decided that he was out of control and shot him in his back. The officer says that he was reaching for his taser. But after a month or so, I watched the video that had been posted to YouTube and had shown up on local news casts. It showed a man whose hands had been cuffed behind his back, lying on his stomach on the pavement. A BART police officer stood near his head and another by his feet. And that one by his feet? Johannes Mehserle. He pulled out what he says what he believed to be his taser and shot Oscar Grant in his back. And we never heard an apology from him until during his trial in these past few weeks.

I watched the video because I wanted to understand why people in my city were in the streets after what was supposed to be a peace rally busy breaking windows and burning cars. The last time I saw people in the streets like this was when the Raiders lost to New England in their quest to go to the Super Bowl. And I thought, "It's a football game. How ridiculous." Because my last memory of living in California and seeing that kind of anger was when Dan White's verdict came down. That one -- the birth of the Twinkie defense -- still baffles me. But I remember sitting at home while watching cars burn in San Francisco. And understanding the anger and violence while not condoning it.

And so the last I have heard is that the Mehserle case has been handed over to the jury. I have read about how the city as well as nearby communities and BART are preparing for the verdict. I am too. Coworkers asked what I would be doing this weekend. Staying in. I am afraid of what people who are stressed about the economy would do in light of a verdict with which they don't agree. I mean I've already seen what happens when we lose a football game. But then I've also seen through Loma Prieta of the good that exists in people. I will never forget the image of people who lived along the Cypress -- that no longer exists -- going in to rescue people long before the emergency teams showed up. Because that's what I like to believe. Our first instinct in these kind of situations is to take care of one another. And yes, I realize these are completely different kinds of situations but I want to believe in the good in others. In the meantime, I am ashamed to admit that I am happy that as of today, my complex is completely gated. No one gets in unless they have the code, a key, or have been buzzed in. Part of me thinks that this is so elitist but the other part of me feels like as a single woman a bit of relief.

A fuera

I guess I should blame my mother. She started it all. I went to her house ednesday night because she had had surgery and needed someone to stay the night at the house. Waiting for me were roasted chicken, tortillas and salsa verde to be turned into enchiladas. My mom had found a new source for tortillas, but more about that later. I'm still kicking myself for not bringing a container of that sauce home. Yes, my mother makes her own sauce. Oh, and there was cotija cheese as well. But the sauce. I think it may have been at least six years since my mother has made the sauce for me. Now if I only get her to make some albondigas. There is more to this tale than food though.

After hitting the Farmville event nearby on Saturday, I found myself sitting in a auto place waiting for the smog test on my car. Tired of playing games on my phone, I decided to do a little web surfing. Earlier in the week, I had learned that La Mission would be opening. And Peter Bratt would be appearing at one of the screenings in San Francisco for a Q&A. So I pulled up the theaters website and purchased a ticket. The movie was fantastic. It was the San Francisco I know and love filled with characters who have crossed my path at various times in my life. It is also the kind of film that makes you think about so many things in our society. I miss going to films that make you think; I miss being a member of the film society.

Today I decided to fully embrace my inner cholita -- because that's what this is really about, my inner cholita -- by heading over to Mi Pueblo. I could have taken the freeway but I decided to cruise down Bancroft instead since it was a nice day out. It's almost like cruising 23rd in Richmond for me.

I had been hearing about the store for quite some time but had not found the time to make it over there. It was dinner at my mom's on Wednesday that the impetus. See, she had bought the tortillas at Mi Pueblo's new location in San Rafael. And she's still pissed off that there isn't one in Richmond or San Pablo.


Seeing the chickens grilling in front of the store was a good sign in my book.


The first section one hits upon entering is the panaderia. And I was hungry. And without a list. But of course I had to pick up some tres leches cake. So many flavors. A woman standing next to me at the counter agreed that it would be appropriate to ask for one of each. I simply got the fresa and the cafe. Hmmm. Bet Fluffycat would love the latter.


Then there was the quiet solitude of the produce section in which I found the elusive epazote. I bought in dry form though so that I will never have the epazote crisis again when making sopa de flor de calabaza.

After stopping at the tortilleria section for tortillas fresh out of the machine, I hit their taqueria section. By this point my true cholita had emerged as I spoke to the staff and fellow shoppers in my Spanglish. I wanted the carnitas but they weren't ready yet so I picked up half of a chicken.


And then the tilapia caught my eye so I needed one of those as well. I haven't seen fish cooked like this since the last time I was in Mexico. I discussed this with a fellow customer while we waited for frijoles -- yes, they were out of beans. He said that he found that fish was typically cooked this way. Then I mentioned a la Veracruzana -- one of the dishes my mom loves to prepare -- and he told me about a place on International that makes it that way.


By the time the beans were ready, so were the carnitas.

Lesson learned. Never shop in Mi Pueblo on an empty stomach. Another thing learned? Apparently Latinos are not down with gin. As I scanned the liquor section while at the checkout, I noticed tons of tequilas and rums -- something I completely expected. There were also a few brandys and vodkas thrown in. But not a single bottle of gin. Huh.

And yes, I will be returning to Mi Pueblo. In fact I might be doing the bulk of my shopping there now. And I will be seeing La Mission again. But don't worry. Embracing my inner cholita does not involve Aquanet. That is so last century.

Feeling the burn

Over the last couple of weeks, I have stopped using my Wii. I know, I know. The thing is the weather has gotten better and I started walking at lunchtime -- generally one to one and a half miles. I've been getting bored with this though. On Friday I increased it to two miles but still eh. I've been feeling like I should be running -- or doing a longer distance. That's how I found myself up and out yesterday morning. The plan was to walk the neighborhood -- 4.3 miles in total. But don't mistake me for Zombie Mom. I said "walk" not "run." I could have finished it in less time than the hour and a half or so that I was out but I had to pause along the way to take some photos for y'all. OK. And for the first half these were a lovely excuse to rest as the grade rarely leveled out.








As expected there were some large homes along the way. Many had gates. Some were set so far back from the street that they were barely visible. Just what one would expect in a a hilly neighborhood that also has a country club.


The neighborhood is not really into sidewalks. There are several stretches of road that look like this. Fortunately there is not much car traffic. At times the shoulder was non-existent and there were blind curves. At these points I did what I normally would not do -- walked with my back to traffic. Walking into it was just a bit too nerve-wracking.


I finally reached a point at which I could see my goal -- the street at the top. And then I thought, "What the hell am I doing?" But I kept going.


And then there were poppies! OK. So California poppies are not true poppies but still. Poppies!


Upon reaching the top -- Skyline Boulevard, in case you're interested -- I paused to look back. In the haze sits San Francisco.


The intersection brought back memories because I spent quite a bit of time in this area when growing up. At age 12 or 13 I attended a slumber party for the other K. I've known her since I was four although we drifted apart a few years ago. K, her other friends and I went for a hike down this trail -- and stumbled upon a police crime scene. Just a stolen car that someone had attempted to burn. But they let us watch as they collected evidence. And we managed to talk one of the police officers to give us a ride back to the house. We all sat in the car trying to look somber as the officer went to K's front door and asked her mom if we belonged to her. Oh the laughter.

Enough memories. Time to head back down the hill.


More signs of spring.




Months ago I showed you views of the old Naval facility. Here is is from another vantage point.


And seeing this sign made me think of a conversation I had this past week with Boy Toy.


Private road. Another site that has always fascinated me. Whenever I see one of those signs, I think they're trying to tell me to come right on in. It's almost like a dare. Even better when it has the words "Patrolled by armed patrol" added to it. Not on this one though. Pooh.


I took one final look back as I neared home. Skyline Boulevard sits at the top of the photo.

Over the last month or so, my weight has been pretty constant. And I've been kicking myself over it at times. But getting home after my walk, I realized something. I may not have really been losing weight but my body has been reshaping itself over the last month. Duh. How many times have I asked a friend who was disappointed because she hadn't lost any weight, "Well, what about your measurements? You do know that muscle weighs more than fat?" My yoga pants that were uncomfortable back in November now have extra room in them. I am actually tying the drawstring once more. And people at work have been making comments like, "You're going to waste away soon." But they have never seen me at my smallest. I'm still not where I want to be but I'm getting pretty close.

And today I am still achy. Who knew that one's butt could hurt so much? But then I remembered my physiology classes. The pain is caused by a build-up of lactic acid in the muscles. What's the quickest way to get rid of it? More exercise. So now I'm back out the door to conquer the hill once more. I want to see what kind of time I don't stop along the way to take photos. But I will stop occasionally to admire the flowers.

Old friend

One of the hard things about leaving Berkeley was leaving behind some of my favorite places at which to dine. Of course over these last few months I hadn't given it much thought. But I have this habit. During the workday, I chat with Fluffycat on Facebook. We share links to things we find interesting. Her links can run the gamut while mine are usually menus. A couple of weeks ago I sent her the link to the February menu for Gregoire and she decided that she simply had to have this month's bread pudding. Oh, and maybe an entree as well. So last night we headed to Gregoire -- in Oakland because it's closer to my home and a little bigger than the Berkeley location. And while the Oakland location is a short drive away, it's just not the same as being able to walk to the Berkeley location.

I had the braised and seared pork shoulder in bourbon and pear ...


while Fluffycat had the Ecuadorian shrimp with harissa sauce.


And naturally I had my usual potato puffs but Fluffycat decided that to try to the potato gratin with green garlic.

Then there was dessert. And they were out of the bread pudding. Oh the horror. And while Fluffycat was pleased with her other choice, I think there may need to be another trip to Gregoire so that Fluffycat can experience the bread pudding. It just won't be coffee flavored.

Dinner and a show

Last night Fluffycat and I headed to Bocanova in Jack London Square for dinner. I had been wanting to check this place out since it opened in September.


The starter had been determined from the first time I saw their menu months ago -- Dungeness Crab Deviled Eggs. As David had pointed out earlier in the week, you really can't go wrong with deviled eggs.


We then decided to add the salad of Avocado, Endive and Hearts of Palm. At this point, Fluffycat realized the patience required when you want to write about food. The food arrives and you want to dive right in but then you think, "Wait. I need to take a photo before it's all gone."


By the time the Mahi Mahi (not on their online menu and to the left in the photo) and the Stuffed Plantains arrived, I had indeed forgotten about the photo thing until I was halfway through my portions.


Luckily there was enough of the Burnt Carrots that I was able to take a fairly representative photo even though some had been removed from the bowl.

At this point we were both pretty full. Portions at Bocanova are not as small as they might have been at other places. But then we saw the dessert menu and suddenly there was room in our stomachs once more.


Fluffycat had the Warm Chocolate Bread Pudding. OK. So when it arrived, it may have been a bit more than warm but that just meant to let the molten chocolate cool on the spoon a bit before placing it in your mouth.


I went with a seasonal dessert, also not on the online menu, of Pumpkin Pound Cake topped with Eggnog Ice Cream and served with a little Pecan Macaroon. It was like the best of the holiday season in a bowl.

By now you're probably wondering why I mentioned "show" in the title of this post. We arrived at the restaurant without a reservation. The host said that we could have immediate seating at the bar by their open kitchen. Sounded good to us. And we had the good fortune to be seated near the meat/seafood section of the kitchen. So the show was watching the expediter call in orders to the kitchen and seeing the various dishes take shape. At one point one of the guys in the kitchen started singing. And there was a bit of good-natured banter between the group. This vantage point also let us clearly see dishes that we didn't order but might want to try on future trips to the restaurant. By the end of the evening, Fluffycat and I decided that these were, in our opinion, the best seats in the house. Why sit at a table so removed from all the action?

I will definitely be returning. And will probably make reservations the next time -- as long as I can reserve those seats by the kitchen.

For the birds

So yesterday after sleeping for a total of 12 hours the previous day, I had all this energy. Go figure. While I did various house work, a plan started to form. I would leave my secret lair and go out to see the world. (Yes, I showered and put on something other than my yoga pants for this endeavor.)

The original plan was that I would walk to the zoo even though I could tell without looking out the windows that it was overcast outside. Then I exited and saw that everything was wet. As in it had recently been raining kind of wet. Scratch the walk to the zoo. It would be enough to simply walk around the zoo. So I hopped in the car. Next time I'll choose a day with better weather. And I'll leave out early enough that I won't have to worry about having to walk back in the dark. Along a street that has no sidewalks. Upon which folks are usually cruising at 40 or so.




Now the highlight for me is usually the big cats. But it was cold and kind of damp. I thought as I looked at them, "If I wanted to see some cats lounging around all day, I could have stayed at home." And that last photo? That's right. The bobcat couldn't even be bothered with sleeping in the open.

Now onto some of the other animals...

A dromedary.


Zebra


Hyena


Meerkat!!!!



Giraffes!!!


An eland.


A chimp.

Malaysian Sun Bear



And now I have new favorites. The gibbons absolutely rock. Although it was so annoying to hear kids run up to their enclosure repeatedly proclaiming, "Look! Monkeys!" Finally an intelligent parent came along and responded to his kids, "Do you see tails? Because monkeys have tails. Primates don't."

If my fingers hadn't started going numb, I could have spent all day watching the gibbons.


And finally I will leave you with this lovely earworm that has plaguing me since I first decided to go to the zoo. Enjoy.

Getting settled

Thursday night I officially stopped being a resident of Berkeley. That's when I finished cleaning the old place and turned in my keys.


This was the first thing I saw as I got in my car to leave the apartment that last time. For some reason, I thought of Cookiecrumb.

So over the weekend, I decided to start doing some exploring. And by exploring, I mean checking out grocery stores. While Berkeley Bowl really isn't that far away, I thought it was time to become more familiar with stores closer to home.

In my travels, I discovered that there is a Safeway on Redwood Road. Kind of strange though. Like they have gift cards but no greeting cards. (I had to pick both up for Sista Locks's graduation on Sunday from Berkeley. I know that she will be a fantastic principal.) They also only have beer and wine. No other alcohol. It was kind of strange. Made me think I had landed back in Virginia somehow.

I was on Redwood because when you head down the hill, it becomes 35th. And that's where you find Little Joe's. I will be stopping there at least a couple of times a month since they have the Emmentaler and the "crack cheese" that I love so much. And so on Sunday, the kitchen officially reopened.

Mussel-fennel bisque -- again.
This was followed by this week's flavor.


Banana-walnut ice cream

Now if I could just get Natasha to eat something other than her old food. Because the closest places that sell that stuff are in Alameda and Berkeley.