Gluttony at its finest...

Well Happy Tuesday people. I have lots to post so I'll get on with it. I'll start with the weekend food reviews and make them as short and sweet as possible... you know I'm so lying.

Thursday night we went to Dedham (don't remember for what specifically at the moment) and passed by an IHOP and got a craving for Brinner. Now, I normally wouldn't consider IHOP to be blog-worthy, but they have these new pancakes flavors and well, one of them is New York Style Cheesecake. Yes, pancakes. served with strawberries and whipped cream. Yum. They melted in my mouth and had little chunks of graham cracker in them. Now in NYC, the only time I really go to IHOP is at 4 or 5 am after a night of clubbing and lots of drinking. But I would totally go at a reasonable hour, sober, for these pancakes. N. had some bacon-ator chees-a-fied omelet. It was..meh. We had leftovers, so we got a doggie bag. Literally. Since, Maya was happily waiting in the car.

She's a beast. She didn't even breathe, or chew for that matter.

K, on to Friday. Picked up my mom from the bus station and went to have dinner at Masa. We've gone here for brunch a few times, but never for dinner. We shared a few appetizers and a main course (still on a budget here.. Obama is still my baby daddy but he hadn't actually paid his child support bill yet). We got the ceviche which was awesome flavor-wise but a pain in the butt to eat, since you basically had to chop it up yourself. They served a whole piece of fish, and huge slices of avocado and jalapeño. I mean jeez, isn't this the reason I'm paying for food at a restaurant. If I wanted to make ceviche myself, I would have done that crap in my own kitchen. We also had the Mofongo, which wasn't traditional by any means. It was made with yucca instead of platanos and had coconut milk and braised beef short ribs in it. Orgasmic. Even my mom liked it, surprisingly since she was already judging it from the menu description. She turned up her nose and said "Tha iiis no MOFONGO!" She took one bite and then didn't say another word. Just kept shoveling forkfuls into her mouth. We also had chili dusted frites with cotija cheese. Also pretty good. 

We shared the Carne Asada for the entree. This didn't go over very well with my mom. My mom has to have her steak well done and this was barely medium. The flavors were good but she couldn't bring herself to eat it, even if she turned over and looked away. I'll admit, it was even too rare for N. and I. Oh well, you can't win them all. Dessert was less than stellar also. We had some lime-peach brulee thing. It was as small as a thimble and too tart. The drinks were pretty good at least. N. and I had hibiscus caipirinhas. It's the only thing I got a picture of since they practically make you eat in the dark.

On Saturday morning, we took my mom to Sorella's for brunch. This is the most amazing place to have brunch in Boston in my opinion. It's nothing fancy. The place is in a converted house with basic decor (most of the menu is handwritten on pieces of paper and taped to the walls).

 They don't have a website, and they only accept cash, but the food is to die for. They have everything you could imagine eating for breakfast. The menu might actually make you dizzy with all the choices. Everything tastes fresh and like it was cooked with love, just for you. Trust me, you have to eat here if you're even in Boston. I would even suggest a pilgrimage to Boston just for the experience. They have a ridiculous variety of omelets, french toast (made from any bread you can imagine), pancakes, etc. I had... wait I have to take a second and pause in loving memory of these pancakes....              ..OK. I had pumpkin pancakes. With cream cheese on top. And strawberries. Words cannot even describe. I made the mistake of taking one bite before I pulled out my camera. It was over after that. So, yea... no pictures. My mom had plain french toast with eggs and home fries. I kid you not when I tell you that these were hands down the BEST French toast I've ever had. And I've eaten a LOT of French Toast. N. had some Acapulco Polenta thing, dripping with cheese and avocados. Then as if we weren't in heaven already as it is, they served us giant CUPS of mimosas..for $3.95.

We needed stretchers to take us back to the car. We had a whole day of "things to do" planned, but after that smorgasbord, we were done. DONE. Spent the rest of the day on the couch watching movies.

Sometime later in the evening, when we finally were able to think about eating again... we turned on the grill and made some teriyaki pork chops with acorn squash, and drank some tequila. Then, we all fell into a food and tequila induced coma.

Because we are, apparently, gluttons for punishment, I got up early Sunday and made breakfast on the grill. By the time my mom and N. got up, breakfast was served! Mesquite steak (yes, I grilled steak at 9am..so?), grilled polenta and greens with tomatoes and plums in a balsamic vinaigrette (with fresh thyme and basil from our garden). I also made a pitcher of plum Bellini. o_O

hmm, I seemed to have left out the egg in that description.. and the garlic toast too.

My mom... enjoying her brunch in our yard.

Listen, N. and I decided at the start of the weekend that enough is enough. We need to get serious about watching what we eat and exercising. We do NOT want to be that couple, rolling each other down the sidewalk. We've each put on around 10-15 pounds in the past few months and this is where we draw the line.

So, I guess we went a little overboard this weekend with our final meals of gluttony and what not. But, so far so good. Yesterday we had homemade fruit and yogurt smoothies for breakfast and lean cuisines for lunch. For dinner, we had leftover teriyaki pork-chops with pesto garlic mashed FAKEtatoes (mashed cauliflower) and broccoli. For dessert, I took one scoop of Skinny Cow Dulce de Leche ice cream, rolled it around some crushed Special K and topped it with a tablespoon of sugar free maple syrup. Totaling less than 100 calories per serving! See? We can be healthy food addicts!

I'm trying to get N. to get up earlier and do yoga with me. She's not fond of that idea. She's agreed to go walking around JP pond with me after work though...and possibly increase to light jogging (hey, this is great progress for her so I'm taking what I can get). I had to threaten her yesterday when she tried to buy a chocolate bar at lunch (she got a nutrigrain bar instead), and today I put an apple in her lunch bag (I'm sure it will still be there when she gets home tonight).

Gosh, this post was all about food, huh? Not talking about food might prove to be difficult, especially since I will now be depriving myself of it. But, I shall try.

So, in other news (which is not really exciting, but it is when you are unemployed and have nothing better to do), we decided to have a yard sale in a couple of weeks. I've been sorting through all our crap in the basement and deciding what we will sell and what we will keep. We have acquired quite a bit of junk for two people that only moved in less than 6 months ago. After the basement is all cleaned up, I'll finally get to set up my art space! See, now that is exciting.

OK, OK...no bacon.

Namaste bitches!

-D.

The one about the Pyro Torch

Hello, everyone. I am sorry I have been blog deficient this week. I had my big interview yesterday and spent the few days before it in a mad dash to put together a kick-ass portfolio (and it was truly kick-ass, if I do say so myself!). I think the interview went pretty well. They contacted me by the end of the day for a second interview. Cross your fingers everyone!

Our friend J. came over last night and we decided to test out some of our new fireworks. N. had gotten these long roman-candle looking things called Pyro Torches (yea sounds dangerous, right?). She wanted them because you could hold them in your hand as opposed to the regular roman candles that come with a very large warning : DO NOT HOLD IN HAND! So they didn't have a price but we figure they should cost the same as the regular roman candles (around $7.99). Wrong. They were $20. We didn't figure this out until we had already left so we just decided to shrug and forget we were super broke and should not be spending money on fireworks, of all things.

So I pull one of these bad boys out of the package, I light it and shoot my hand up as far away from my body, shielding my face with my other hand and cringe... waiting for the loud explosion and shower of sparks. I wait. Then, I wait some more. I peek out from behind my hand to look at the stupid thing, thinking maybe I didn't light it correctly. It's lit alright. Just a little flame...burning. J. took the thing from me and tried shaking it. Nothing. Apparently that's what they do. Just burn...like a sad little Olympic torch. J. held it over his head and ran around the yard. That didn't make them any more fun. Amusing? yes. Fun? not so much. $20. What a gyp! Good job babe!

We tried the ground blooms, well I tried them. N. and J. just stood there and laughed at me, because every time I would light one, I would run away screaming like a 3 year old. They spin and change colors,  then crack and jump. I was not trying to let one of those "jump" onto my leg! Then, we played with my favorite ones. Morning Glory sparklers. Yea, I know they don't do anything except, ...sparkle. But, they're pretty. And, they make me feel like I'm a little girl again.. watching my dad light fireworks by the lake in Flushing Meadow Park while I danced around the tall grass with my sparklers. N. wouldn't let me try any of the other crazy fireworks we bought, because she insisted I was either going to set our trees on fire, or possibly burn down our house. Guess, I'll have to wait until Sunday!

My mom is on the bus, on her way here. I should probably be cleaning like a mad woman, instead of sitting here typing away. My mom is a bit OCD and if there is just one little tumbleweed of my dog's white fur on the floor, I will not hear the end of it. God forbid anyone think she didn't raise me right. Then again, it's all useless anyway, since no matter how much I clean... she will come and do it over again and innocently claim she didn't know I had JUST cleaned it. I love her.

Namaste bitches!


-D.

Namaste...

So, my mom was in town this weekend. She claimed she was already planning on visiting, but I'm pretty sure her trip was prompted by my mid-week "I don't have a job yet-I'm broke- I just turned 30 and what the hell am I doing with my life right now" hysterics. Regardless of her reasons, she showed up on Friday afternoon and greeted me at the bus station with her usual complaints of a long bus ride and a giant bag full of food she "brings home" o_O... from her catering job. From her magic bag she produced a pepperoni Stromboli, 3 giant red bell peppers, ham and about 4 different cheeses. Needless to say, one bite of that Stromboli and I forgot what the heck I was so upset about.

On Saturday, N. and I decided to take my mom to a little beach town about an hour away called Rockport. It's a quaint little town filled with cute little shops and delicious seafood.. and of course beaches. We wanted to take her to P-Town for the day, but although my mom has come a very long way in accepting her only daughter is gay, I thought an entire town filled with butches, flamey gay boys and drag queens would be a bit much. So, Rockport it was. We had lunch in a tiny restaurant that looked like it was someone's house and sat by a giant window overlooking the harbor. I had chocolate chip pancakes (because if there's breakfast on a menu, I have an inexplicable compulsion to order it no matter where I am or what time of the day it is), N. had the crab cakes Benedict and my mom had a chicken quesadilla. After lunch, we strolled the main street, walking in and out of shops. My mom and N. were conversing about something.. I think I was part of the conversation, but stopped listening because I was being pulled across the street by the sweet intoxicating smell of Nag-Champa incense burning. I've been to Rockport one time before with N., and the only store I remember besides the amazing hot dog joint and the home made ice cream shop, was this one. The Floating Lotus.

This place.. you walk in and just instantly relax. They sell Tibetan, Indian and Southeast Asian clothing, furniture art and artifacts. Now I hail from NYC where there about 4 or 5 of these types of stores in any given 20 block radius, but The Floating Lotus is... different. I don't know if it's the atmosphere of this lazy vacation town.. or the smell of the salty sea air, combined with they way they've set up the place. But, both times I've walked in the door, I've exhaled in complete relaxation and serenity. There's even this cute little dog that follows you around the store (but not in a naggy "pet me" way.. even the damn dog is serene). They have all these cool instruments you can play with, like rain sticks and singing bowls. There are amazing sculptures and wood carvings... colorful paintings of Buddha that an artist did on roof shingles that blew off a temple. Intricate floor pillows scatter the store and they invite you.. no INSIST.. that you lie down on them for a while and just ..BE.

I want to live in this store.

After about 20 minutes, N. and my mom finally managed to drag me out with my head scarf and handfuls of incense, but not before my Gemini brain latched on and got "inspired". I do this very often in my life. I get these "obsessions" where I eat, breathe and sleep whatever it is I happened to be obsessed with at the moment. So here I am, redecorating our house (in my mind of course... no job remember), digging my yoga mat out of the basement and vowing to start meditating and somehow transport that serene magical feeling of that store into my everyday life. I figure that this may be one of my healthier obsessions (unlike last month's bacon/ice cream obsession), I mean what harm can it do? I don't think our neighbors mind the little Buddha that is now sitting on our porch filling the entire block with the sticky scent of patchouli. I'm sure that N. won't mind if I take it down a notch from my usual wired, overly-dramatic antics. I'm sure that only good can come from regaining some focus in my life. It has to be better than this "falling down the rabbit hole" feeling. At this point I'm willing to try anything to keep me from going into a full blown panic over having $27 in my bank account at the moment. So.. here's to lotus flowers and downward dog poses, to nag-champa and deep breathing exercises... to meditation (aka denial of my current circumstances) and smiling serenely when all I really want to do is scream. Namaste.



-D.