Throwing in the towel

First of all, I'd like to apologize. You should have been able to see this post Wednesday morning. Thing is that I was so sick of food that it's taken me this long to write this post. Not anything against this restaurant. I actually loved the place. The problem was that I had consumed way too much in the days before I arrived there. And now I really appreciate the starving model jokes. Kind of.

Jade asked me how much weight I had gained from all my dining. The truth is that I have probably lost weight since I arrived in New York. There was all that walking. And truth be told, I never ate the entire entree. My stomach just is not capable of it. But as I said before, I love tasting new things so I paced myself accordingly.

I continued my dining Monday night at Aquavit. This was one of the other places at which I was excited to dine.

The first shock was when they asked me about preferences and food allergies. Really? I should have mentioned my displeasure with pistachios. But I figured that they would look pretty in a photo and I could pick around them.

The next part of the experience was the selection of breads. I chose the sourdough and some sort of rye. Now I'm not a huge bread person but that rye was addictive. Heck. I might just return for that bread.

And then they had the audacity to offer an amuse bouche. If I remember correctly, it was salmon with creme fraiche.


I alao heeded Fluffycat's admonition. And so I went for the salad for my starter instead of the tartare. And what a wonderful salad it was. But I usually avoid salads as they are something I can do at home and so feel cheated in ordering them. But I don't think I'd make the smoked goat cheese croquettes.


Next up was the pork belly. If I remember correctly (Yes, I know I could look at the menu online but I'm lazy.), it came with a Yukon mash and a porter truffle sauce. Heavenly.


I ended it all with the Arctic Circle. This was a parfait of goat cheese and a lingenberry sorbet. Oh and pistachios. But I don't eat those. When I posted this photo on Facebook, Jade said that it looked too pretty to eat. I ate it all.

And then when I received my check, they gave me a $50 gift certificate that expires at the end of March. Since I doubt I'll be back in New York before then, I gave the certificate to Lisa B -- who suggested that I come for Restaurant Week in the first place.

Yes, I would gladly return to Aquavit but I'd really like to try out Samuelsson's new place, Red Rooster.

Ladies who lunch

My next stop on my gut-busting outings was lunch yesterday at David Burke Townhouse. When I showed Maddie their website on Saturday, he made appreciative sounds over their decor. I made similar sounds about their food. After a brisk walk over, I knew that I could put away a little food at least.

I was eagerly awaiting this lunch and decided to splurge a bit by ordering items that cost a little extra.


First up? The Parfait of Sockeye Tuna and Salmon Tartares. So good I ate it all.


This was followed by the Braised Beef Short Rib. Heavenly! But I still had dessert coming so I had them pack half of it up. David apparently is not a fan of mushrooms but said that the rest of it was delish.


Finally the Warm & Crisp Apple Tart. The server placed it before me and then poured caramel sauce over it from a small pitcher.

I could have returned to California after this meal but there was more dining to be done. I know I would gladly return to this restaurant -- as long as I don't have to sit next to the second pair that showed up. If only they could have been as charming as the ladies who were wrapping up lunch when I arrived and kept insisting that I partake of the Cheesecake Lollipop Tree they had ordered. But I needed the space in my stomach. Should have at least taken a photo for y'all though. It was just so pretty. Next trip.

What have I gotten myself into?

As you may already know, I have made a trip to New York for restaurant week. For the beginning of my vacation, go check out Maddie's post. Now the dining has begun.

Last night I joined Lisa at Perilla. (For those of you who watch "Top Chef," Perilla is Harold Dieterle's restaurant.)


We started with the spicy duck meatballs. Lisa had heard that these were one of the specialties. I don't recommend them for David as they are indeed spicy.


Next up was the fish special of the day -- a Montauk fluke, if I remember correctly.


And to finish it all off, gingerbread cake.

The food was delicious. The company wonderful. And fortunately I have more hours before I must dine once more. I have realized this will be quite the challenge. While I love tasting new things, I just can't seem to eat as much as I used to. And hopefully my future photos will be of better quality.

Lessons learned

The first lesson that I learned this week was that I just don't have the energy to cook the way I like to after working all day at this time in my life. I started the week thinking that I would make another dish to show y'all during this week. It will be appearing in my kitchen over this weekend instead.

I also learned why I love my camera so much. Unfortunately I left it at the Zombie household last weekend and have not had a chance to pick it up since. So now you are forced to suffer through photos taken on my iPhone 3GS in low light situations. My camera would have been able to compensate for the poor lighting but my phone cannot.

Ken has been in town for a conference and so we agreed to meet for dinner tonight. Unfortunately his charming wife was not with him. I still hope to meet her one day.

Due to his hotel location, I decided that Belden would be the perfect destination. I like to think that the restaurants in this two block alley offer a little of something for everyone. Plus there's that whole European vibe. My Spanish instructor in college said that San Francisco was one of his favorite cities in the United States because it was one of the most European. I have come to agree with him over the years as I not only absolutely adore San Francisco but New York and Boston as well. Then again it may be a coastal thing as well.

As we walked to Belden, I had definite ideas of where I'd like to go -- Plouf or B44. When Ken mentioned that he wanted seafood, the choice became apparent -- Plouf.

Ken started with oysters on the half shell, a mixture of bivalves from Washington and local ones...


while I picked the carpaccio. While I wanted seafood, I also needed to have some red meat.


Ken then went with the sea bass special.


And here's where not having my camera sucked. These are mussels -- their specialty. And they were divine. Unfortunately the style I went with is not even listed on their online menu and I cannot remember it. I do remember that there were red pepper flakes involved. Perhaps some shallots.

There was also some Chimay and at the end of the meal, a French beer that came in a bottle reminiscent of a Grolsch bottle. Oh and the style in pouring the server had.

It was a pleasure to finally meet Ken. My only regret is that he now has probably learned what so many other bloggers know -- that I like to cook food more than I like to eat it. I like to taste; I just don't necessarily eat. Oh and that I talk incessantly. Hopefully he will forgive me my sins. And that you will forgive me for not taking that final photo I had imagined -- the photo of the alley itself so that you could get a feel for it all.

Understanding

I think I get what I miss about Berkeley. Yes, part of it is the ability to easily walk to places of interest but there's more to it. Berkeley is where the craziness happens. And when I say craziness, I mean in a Lucy and Ethel kind of way.

I have been in Berkeley since Friday night to stay with Dumb and Dumber. Yesterday I traveled across town for the Commander's birthday party. After the party, Fluffycat and I headed back to the north side to hit Gregoire's for dinner. We parked at the house and walked the one mile to get yummy treats. Since Gregoire's has limited seating, we returned to the house with our meals. Shortly after dining is when the trouble started.

We went out to the deck and as I was closing the door, I realized that it was locked -- about 2 seconds too late. So there we were trapped on the deck on a rather bucolic street. There was no one to call to help for. Our phones were inside the house. So I did what any good action hero would do. I kicked off my shoes and swung myself over the railing and then swung myself onto the porch. I also quelled the thought that I could slip and land on the cement below. Did I mention that I was wearing a little black dress at the time? Fortunately it is a bucolic street because there was probably an underwear flash at some point in all this maneuvering. But they were cute ones. I then headed to the neighbors' house, whom I had fortunately met on my last stay here. Within 20 minutes or so, the locksmith showed up and Fluffycat was able to come in. She had briefly thought of following my escape route but we decided that since my legs are longer, it was probably easier for me.


In case you're wondering, I had the roasted pork tenderloin medallions that were served with a curry bacon sauce...


while Fluffycat had the grilled tritip served with an oven roasted tomato and roasted garlic salsa.

And I must admit that I was kind of bummed when we entered Gregoire to see a female cook up front. But while we waited for our food, the cute cook did pop his head out of the back and smiled.

So I'm in Berkeley for another two nights and now I'm wondering what kind of trouble adventure I can get into today...

Going coastal

I haven't really dropped off the map. A week ago I headed down the coast to hang out with Zombie Mom and her children, the Commander and Lala Bean. We were joined by Zombie Mom's friend, Peony and her children. And briefly by another friend of Zombie Mom's. I went for an extended weekend, leaving on Tuesday, while the rest stayed on.

There was lots of frolicking in the surf and sand at the beginning of it all for me but then I began to feel drained. Perhaps it was forewarning of things to come. Then again perhaps my sunburn from Sunday was the first warning. My left shoulder is still sore to the touch but my nose started to peel a couple of days ago.

By midday at work on Wednesday, I was not feeling exceptionally well. By early evening, all I could think of was sleep. Thursday morning? I made the decision to drag my butt out of bed to go into the office to take care of a few urgent things. These things took all of an hour. And then I took my feverish ass home. My self-diagnosis was the flu if you really want to know.

If you know me, time at the ocean always makes me introspective -- more so than usual. Add onto this time alone at home while sick for a few days and well...

I headed off on the weekend after having had a biopsy on Friday morning. Seems like things are still not quite regular in my body. I need to quit smoking. So far that hasn't happened but I have cut down drastically. My doctor mentioned how many people smoke as a result to stress. I mentioned this to my mother and then she droned on about the latest thing that some family member has done to irritate her. Oh and in case you're wondering, it's still all pre-cancerous. Supposedly if I quit smoking, my body can rid itself of this stuff. If I don't, it's up in the air.

Yesterday my dad's assistant called before heading off for her vacation. She has finally met my future stepmother and is thoroughly charmed by her. She also says that for the last couple of weeks my father has been his old self -- the one we actually liked.

The thoughts raced through my mind during my recuperation. And sometimes I felt the burn of hot tears down my face. Today I started the first draft of a statement to my dad. A statement, not a letter. I could send an email but I want him to see my face, hear my voice as I read it to him. In an ideal world I will do such with a therapist present. I see myself reading the words and then handing the page to him. And then walking out.

I am glad that he is getting better. That's all I've ever wanted. But in this time I've realized that I just can't let him into my life anymore. I've had a couple of months to see what life can be like. And I became a little bit happier. Because right now that's my focus. Stop worrying about if other people are happy. Make sure I'm happy and healthy. I feel like I should write a book on how to not fuck up your kids.

Growth

As I prepared for my guests yesterday, a number of things went through my mind. Like who was showing up. And about the long list of people who had stated that they wouldn't be able to make it. In the past I probably would have felt hurt but surprisingly my feeling was more like "Whatever."

I thought about my college days. There was another university across town that was known for its parties. My classmates and I eventually decided that their parties were not necessarily better than ours though. They were known for having these parties with tons of people. But does more actually mean better? We decided that when you have to wait way too long in line at the keg, more isn't better. So we argued that we went for quality over quantity.

And so that's what yesterday was. The only people who had previously met were Zombie Mom and Fluffycat but that didn't seem to matter. We were joined by Marin and one of my high school friends and his wife. Oh yeah. And the Zombie girls who seemed quite concerned that Boris kept hiding from them. And who also insisted that a birthday celebration was not complete without cupcakes and singing.

So yes, yesterday was great. And today? Well I cleaned everything before going to sleep last night. I have plenty of leftovers, some of which will probably end up in the freezer. And as I am quite sore from all the scrubbing and cooking, a long soak in the tub is starting to sound like a good idea -- if I can move off of the couch, away from my Netflix instant viewing choice of "Quincy." But whatever I decide, it will all be fine.

Life goes on

For at least a year, Fluffycat and I have talked about going to La Fondue in Saratoga. Finally as a celebration of her birthday this year -- You don't look a year over 21, Fluffycat -- she made reservations at La Fondue and invited me and a few other friends.


After salads, it was time to dive into the wonderfulness of cheese fondue. Now I happen to think that cheese is an essential food group and cannot imagine life without it. Also a couple of weeks ago I stopped counting calories. Some of my coworkers have started a weight loss challenge and I decided to not participate. Some of them participated in a similar challenge a couple of years ago. When I tried to argue for a "getting healthy" challenge, I was overruled. Under my idea even those who were not trying to lose weight would have been able to participate. And so came my mind shift. Yes, I am still trying to lose some more weight but I am no longer locked into the idea that it has to happen by a certain time as that was sure to lead to some unhealthy, unsustainable practices. So yeah, I enjoyed the hell out of that cheese.


The cheese was followed by meat and this was the big deal. See for years Fluffycat has been wanting to try the Wild Thing assortment but had yet to find anyone willing to indulge. (And yes, I believe there was some singing of Tone Loc's "Wild Thing" as the meat selection was ordered.) The meats are, from left to right, alligator, buffalo, llama, ostrich,wild boar and venison. (Fortunately the server told us that they were placed in alphabetical order. I can do alphabetical.) I just couldn't get myself to try the llama though. Fluffycat assures me it was quite tasty.

Dessert was two different chocolate mixes. And because the restaurant needed us to shift tables to accommodate a large party, we received free bubbly for our trouble. I think the consensus was that the favorite items for dipping in the chocolate were the pirouettes, the chunks of chocolate chip cookie dough, and the cream puffs.

This dinner was perfectly timed for me. On my way there I received a text message from my dad. Something about how I needed to call, he was sorry and that he's now attending AA meetings. I briefly thought about writing back, "Good for you." Oh, and this was after a week of being assaulted nearly non-stop by emails from his fiance. Because my saying that I wasn't in the mood to talk to people obviously stands for nothing.

But dinner was a reminder of what my life was like before I got enmeshed in the crazy. And I liked it. Today I received a call from my dad's younger brother and once more I let it go to voicemail. After hours of debate, I finally listened to his message. He said he understood. "Your dad didn't do what he was supposed to do when he got out of the hospital and so you cut off contact." A tear rolled down my cheek as I listened to the message because finally someone got it. And knowing that I plan to continue to get out there and live my life and not someone else's.

Appropriated

One of the reasons why I enjoy Cursing Mama's blog is that she is always taking some interesting quizzes. Seeing as things around here have been a bit heavy of late and with the upcoming holiday weekend, I felt it was necessary to borrow the following quizzes from her to add some frivolity back in this place.

You Are a Margarita

You aren't just the life of the party, you are the party! You mix a good drink, bust out some great music, and know how to get down. And it's no wonder that you find yourself invited to almost every event in town. It's really not a celebration until you get there. You know how to get everyone excited.

What Mixed Drink Are You?

Now I am sure that anyone who really knows me is not the least surprised by this result.

You Are Greasy Food

You can't help it, you love to indulge yourself. You are a total hedonist. You're the type of person who will drink until dawn, wake up afternoon, and gorge yourself on hamburgers and fries. Does eating greasy food help you kill the morning after blues? Of course it does! You've gotten to the point that eating drinking fresh juice and eating salad makes you feel sick.

What Hangover Cure Are You?

Once more not really a surprise to me. How often have y'all heard me telling folks the day after that what they need is a good dose of grease?

You Are a Blueberry Margarita

Honestly, there's no one quite like you. And believe it or not, most people think that's a bad thing! You're open, wild, friendly, wacky, and tons of fun. You have a big personality... and a big heart.

What Flavor Margarita Are You?

Of course I wonder what my result would have been if they had had what is truly my favorite Spanish word as a choice -- chingada. I love that word -- so multipurpose. Also I was not really thrilled with the choices of cities in Mexico. These days I'd probably like to hang in Oaxaca somewhere. That way I could have some really good moles with my drinks.

Hope y'all have a fun and safe weekend.

Mission accomplished

Back in February, Fluffycat and I went to Gregoire. The main purpose of this outing was so that she could order the bread pudding. We were thwarted when we were informed that they were out of bread pudding that particular night. Now Gregoire changes their menu monthly and that includes the bread pudding flavor. March was a no because Fluffycat said that she wasn't really into rhubarb. But this month was chocolate.
So let's start at the end of the meal -- the chocolate bread pudding with pear coulis.


Me? I'm actually not a huge chocolate fan. I still have Ghirardelli at home that I bought back in November or so. I like fruit flavored stuff which is why I got the panna cotta with raspberry sauce. And then I made Fluffycat try some of the raspberry sauce on her bread pudding because I've always thought that raspberry and chocolate go together very well.

Dessert is the easiest choice at Gregoire. We both labored over our entree choices for the entire day and didn't really decide until that final moment. OK. One choice was easy.


We both decided to share the grilled artichoke.


I went with the harissa-marinated lamb with a yogurt sauce...


while Fluffycat chose the beef kabobs.

And yes, there were plenty of leftovers. I was able to have two more meals from my leftovers in fact. The other item I had thought of having was the bacon-wrapped pork tenderloin. I don't really have anything already made for dinner tonight. Hmmmm....

Holding out

My first instinct was to blame Abby for holding out. However, the real cause was my laziness. Abby has been raving about Burma Superstar for years. And all I had to do as click the locations tab on their site to discover that besides the San Francisco location, there are also locations in Oakland and Alameda.

I could really kick myself for this as Burmese is one of my all-time fave foods. Generally when I need a fix, I go to Inya Lake in San Bruno or Nan Yang in Oakland. Both of those are not along my usual path. Fortunately Burma Superstar in Alameda is in an area that I often frequent for lunch during the work week.

I ordered the chicken samusas, chicken dhal and curry eggplant -- to go. It was all fabulous. So yes, I will be returning frequently.

Thanks, Abby!

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.

I'll prove her wrong

My mom called when I was on my way home from work. I was still talking to her once I arrived home and since I always use a headset when driving, I was able to continue doing what I had planned to do. At one point I told her that I was lighting some charcoal. She said that it was entirely too late -- it was 5:30 -- to start grilling for tonight's dinner. I guess it is if you're used to having dinner at 5:30. I tend to eat a bit later. And I had had my lovely Trader Joe's frozen sole meal for lunch that is all of 190 calories so that I could have this calorie splurge.


I don't know about y'all but while I'm tending the grill, I need a cool beverage. I'm just bummed that my cute little mermaid that I picked up at dinner in Moss Landing is now broken.

I decided that this year I am ready for the next step in the Chilebrown/Dr. Biggles school of grilling. Once the coals were hot, I spread them and dropped in the drip pan so that I could do the whole indirect heat thing. And then I dropped some soaked apple wood chips on top of the coals. I can so taste the difference made by adding wood. The wood thing is new to me but I am now completely converted.


And of course once I get the grill started for some meat, I start thinking about what else I can throw on there. This time it was artichokes. I steam them a bit on the stove before they hit the grill.


OK. I'll admit it. I have some Sally tendencies. Because I was cooking for just myself, I did not need to put the sauce on the ribs. I mean they had a dry rub on them that I had applied yesterday. My feeling is that meat with a good rub does not need sauce. Even though I had made a pretty good sauce last night. (Maddie, the Jack is in the barbecue sauce.) And while I usually use hummus as a dip for artichokes, in my opinion grilled 'chokes just scream for homemade aioli.

Only thing is that I have a lot of sauce in the fridge. What to grill next? Because yes, it is grilling season as far as I'm concerned.