CLE Adventure #9: Mabel's BBQ

CLE Adventure #9: Mabel's BBQ

Sunday, May 22, 2016

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If the name Michael Symon doesn't ring a bell, you probably don't watch food-centric TV shows, & you're definitely not from Cleveland. This TV chef personality, who is one of the co-host of The Chew, might seem like the New York type, but he's actually a good old Midwestern boy from the CLE, with four successful restaurants to his name here in his hometown.

Last month, Symon finally opened Mabel's BBQ, filling the last piece of empty real estate in downtown Cleveland's East 4th Street corridor. And this weekend, I finally tried it out.

I'm still a bit picky when it comes to what meat I will & won't eat. I don't eat meat on bones, fat squicks me out, & I won't eat "weird" parts like livers or brains or whatever. I don't think I could ever go vegetarian, but I'm still feeling out my relationship with eating things that were formerly living. For that reason, I wasn't totally hyped on Mabel's, but I still wanted to at least try it out.

My friend Rebecca was visiting from NYC, & I thought she'd be the perfect person for this dinner adventure. We met Mike just after work on a Friday, & although their policy is only to seat full parties, the hostess was kind enough to seat us despite the fact that Mike was running a few minutes late. "We're filling up quickly," she told us, "so as long as he's nearby, let's go ahead & get you a table!" She led us to a table upstairs, next to a balcony that overlooks the entirety of the restaurant, with a great view of the urban industrial space.

First, I ordered a $9 French Toast Manhattan (Ezra Brooks bourbon, maple, hazelnut liqueur, & walnut bitters), & it was love at first sip, truly. But what about the food?

Everything at Mabel's is a la carte, so while the meat is served with pickle slices, Cleveland kraut, & a slice of white bread, it doesn't come with sides. There are lots to choose from, though none of them is mac & cheese, the side I most typically associate with BBQ. A week ago, when I mentioned my no-mac sadness in an Instagram convo with a couple other locals, a Mabel's bartenders chimed in:

"He's trying To create 'Cleveland bbq' not bbq you can get everywhere else. Since Cleveland has so much eastern European influence, he's using that in a lot of things at Mabels. I don't think Mac and cheese really fits any of that."

Is it just me, or does that feel snarky? I responded with, "I like mac & cheese with my BBQ, what can I say? Maybe I'm not highbrow enough for European influenced BBQ," complete with a winking emoji. Foodies, amirite? But even without a mac & cheese option, I loved the sides I chose: one of baked beans with chopped brisket & jalapeños & another of spaetzle & spicy cabbage, which was the winner in my book (& stomach).
 
Indeed, Symon says he's inventing a new kind of BBQ, aptly named "Cleveland-style." Everything is applewood smoked because Ohio has so many apple orchards, & he says he'd never serve tomato-based BBQ sauce because most ketchup is made in Pittsburgh. More on that in a second...

Mabel's standalone meat option are brisket, pork belly, turkey breast, kielbasa, & ribs (pork, lamb, or beef). Like I said, I don't do bones or fat, so the ribs & pork belly were out, which led me to the brisket, served fatty or lean (guess which I chose). The meat arrived dry & perfectly smoked, with both BBQ sauce & habanero sauce on the table to use at will. Forgive the dark photo; I swear this food looked delectable:

The sauce at Mabel's is mustard-based, using the Cleveland-made brand Bertman's. I actually loathe mustard, & I'd never had BBQ sauce that wasn't sweet & thick, so Mabel's unique sauce was a bit of a shock to the system: thin, liquidy, & yellow, with a heavy vinegar taste. Surprisingly, I really enjoyed it - so much that I slathered my brisket in it & inhaled the whole damn thing (after cutting off the fat). It was like no BBQ sauce I've ever tried.

Unfortunately, my sometimes-sensitive stomach didn't love it as much as my taste buds did, & I spent much of Friday night & all day Saturday battling severe stomach issues. I have some serious acid erosion issues in this here gut, which means that eating anything highly acidic can throw me off for days - & boy, did Mabel's mess me up. I'm disappointed because, frankly, I hadn't expected to like Mabel's as much as I did - & I really did. I'd be happy to go back, but I'd have to take it reeeeeal easy on the sauce. For that reason alone, I wish they had a tomato-based option - though I'm sure that Instagram bartender would chide me for saying so. *winking emoji*

In short: Mabel's was tasty, but I probably won't head back of my own volition. If someone wanted to try it out, I'd join them, though, or maybe I'll just stop by for a happy hour treat of a French Toast Manhattan with a side of spaetzle... Regardless, I'm glad to see Mabel's up & running downtown. Hometown boy Michael Symon is one of the top chefs in the CLE, & I'm thrilled that his newest project is bringing something a little bit different to the table - literally!

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Remembering My Grandmother: The Great Olive Garden Debacle of 1990-Something

Remembering My Grandmother: The Great Olive Garden Debacle of 1990-Something

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

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My grandma loved Olive Garden, & even though I love to poke fun at (usually Midwestern) folk who believe that Olive Garden represents the epitome of classy Italian dining, I was always willing to give my grandmother a pass. The lady was 82, you know? She can like whatever spaghetti she damn well pleases. And she was more cultured than anyone I knew, despite living in a town with very little of it; she went out of her way to experience the arts & film & music (are those "the arts"?), so she deserved a pass on processed pasta.

Nathan & I had dinner at Basil T's last weekend for Jersey Shore Restaurant Week, which is patently not Olive Garden but rather an upscale Italian establishment that is, as it happens, approximately 30 steps from the front door of our apartment (-so it cannot be said that we were going out of our way to experience classy Italian dining, but I can't help it if we live someplace awesome). As we were being seated, I caught a glimpse of the dessert tray: mini cannolis & tiramisu & a chocolate torte & some apple thing & God know what other confectionery delights that would absolutely crush my Weight Watchers daily points allowance.

As I caught a glimpse of this decadent dessert tray, I remembered this time when I was a kid, & I was at Olive Garden with my family because grandma loved it (& probably I did, too, so I shouldn't be all high & mighty on this one). As we were being seated, we walked right past the dessert tray, & do you know what my grandmother did? She wasn't even that old at the time, maybe in her late 60s or something, so there's really no excuse for this: She stuck her index finger into a piece of fancy-looking mint chocolate cake, just plop! right into the middle of it. And the icing sort of squelched out with out around her finger as it went in, just like that, because cake is obviously a really soft matter, & apparently my grandma used some force with that dessert poke.

Staring at that piece of cake, I was mortified: "Why would you do that?!" I asked her, & when I looked up to face her, I found her looking back at me, mouth open, eyes wide, just as mortified - & maybe even a little bit more.

"I thought it was fake!" she exclaimed. "I thought it was fake! I just... oh, why would I think it was fake?!"

And we laughed & we laughed, & I remember thinking that this was such an absurd thing to do & my grandmother was not at all an absurd person. But she was like that sometimes, a little bit unexpected, this classy, artsy woman who painted watercolors & loved the orchestra & drove 45 minutes away to Dayton to see movies that didn't make it to the one theater in her small town, but sometimes she'd just do something a little bit wacky like that, like sticking her finger in a piece of cake because she assumed it was made of plastic - which is an absurd assumption in itself, & even if it were plastic, why poke it? But it still makes me laugh, even as I write this, & I can hear her voice, her laugh, her horror at realizing her mistake.

Dessert trays have always reminded me of her, ever since then, which feels like my whole life. I cannot remember a time I looked at a restaurant's dessert tray & didn't recall my grandmother plopping her finger into a piece of mint chocolate cake.

It has been 365 days since my grandmother died, & I miss her every day. I still think, "I should call Grandma. It's been awhile," before I catch myself & realize that it will always have been awhile, from here on out. Sometimes I miss her so much I can feel it, like my body is closing in around my heart & I can't breathe, can't imagine that she's really gone for good & that this is just what life looks like now, without her, forever. And I know she'd hate to see us crying about her, crying at all, because as far as I can recall throughout my whole life, my grandmother almost never cried. But she did laugh, & she made me laugh, even when she didn't mean to, so I'm telling you this dessert tray story & hoping you'll laugh, too. Because it hurts so badly some days that I just don't know what else to do.

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My Life in Hamburgers

My Life in Hamburgers

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

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In playing the classic drinking game "Never Have I Ever," my old standby was, "Never have I ever eaten a hamburger." I'd sit in smug satisfaction as I watched people's reactions: "What? Never? Are you a vegetarian or something?!" & when I told them no, never, & yes, I do eat other meat, I couldn't help but smile as their mouths fell open in surprise. Apparently, meat-eaters who don't eat hamburgers are HUGE FREAKS.

I don't have a good reason for why I never tried a hamburger as a child beyond this simple one: I just didn't want to. Hot dogs appealed to me. Chicken nuggets appealed to me. And yet hamburgers... just never appealed to me. I'm not kidding when I tell you that I used to order grilled cheese from McDonald's. Yeahhh, that's not on the menu.

Flash forward to June 2011, when I decided that the time had come. I wanted to eat a hamburger. I don't know where my inspiration came from, but it had finally come, & after all these years, I wasn't about to deny it. On a visit home to Ohio, Nathan & I made a special trip to Swenson's, a local chain once voted "America's Best Burger" by Forbes. Everyone said my first burger absolutely had to come from Swenson's, & as a loyal Ohioan, I wasn't about to forgo my roots.

It was... fine. It definitely wasn't the meaty nightmare that Childhood Kate imagined, but Adult Kate didn't really feel the need to eat another burger ever again, either. I had tried it; that was enough.

And then, this March, I traveled to Phoenix for my friends' wedding. At the afterparty (it's the remix to ignition, hot & fresh out the kitchen), someone's dad popped by with a box full of In 'N' Out Burgers of varying topping arrangements. In 'N' Out, the West Coast's holy grail of hamburgers - how could I resist? It had been nearly a year since my first & only hamburger, & I decided I couldn't let this unique opportunity pass me by.

It was better than the first one. Like, way better. Sorry, Ohio. But was that just because I was post-wedding buzzed? (Which is to say, actually buzzed?) I couldn't tell; I had to know. The next day, on our way out of town, my coworker Sean & I made a stop at In & Out's drive-thru, where we shocked the employee who served us by admitting that we'd never been to an In & Out before. "We're from the East Coast!" we insisted by way of explanation. Sean ordered his burger animal-style; I ordered a plain old cheeseburger, & boy, was I excited to eat it.

That day, it became official: I became a person who eats hamburgers. Since then, I have indulged in Shake Shack & McDonald's burgers, too, & most recently, Boston Burger Co., where my friends & I agonized over which burgers would be best. After much debate, I settled on the Mac Attack, topped with four-cheese macaroni & cheese & a heap of bacon. This was the healthiest thing our group ordered, if you can believe it.

Guys. It's official. I'm a hamburger person now - & damnnnn, it feels delicious!

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Problematic Pasta & Successful Second Chances

Problematic Pasta & Successful Second Chances

Saturday, March 31, 2012

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I like food.

I bet you do, too. Maybe not as much as I do, but that's a discussion for another day. Today, I want to tell you about how much I also like writing reviews of my food experience. (I almost wrote "my food-eating experiences," but that seemed too strange, even for me, which is rare.)

In January, I decided to check out The Kitchen, a new-ish cafe down the road from my apartment. After much vacillating about what to order, I went with one of the pasta dishes: spiral pasta with roasted tomatoes, melted cheese, spinach, & prosciutto. I paid my $9 & got it to go... & it was, hands down, one of the worst dishes I've ever had in my life. Sour, vinegar-y, such that it almost tasted rancid. I ate three bites & threw all $9 of it away & went for a Lean Cuisine instead. I proceeded to write a two-star Yelp review about my experience, & that was that. I vowed, of course, never to eat that dish again.

Until...

While I was in Israel, I received an email from one of the restaurant's two chefs, who implored me to give The Kitchen another shot. Upset by my bad experience, he explained that the dish I ordered is one of their most popular, & that it's always been successful at events. "We did you wrong and we need you to have a better taste in your mouth about us," he wrote. "Excuse the pun!" He'd already almost convinced me, & that line sealed the deal. I will not excuse the pun because I really like puns. Plus, it's a rarity for a business to reach out to social media folk in such a polite, friendly manner following negative press, so despite my not-so-tasty first try at The Kitchen, I decided to give it another go. The chef kindly offered to comp me my meal whenever I made it back in, but because a paid meal makes for the most honest review, I didn't tell him I was coming.

I ordered the same thing, but this time, I got it to stay - & it was really good. Everything was fresh, the portion was huge, & the flavors went together well. This is, of course, not to discount my initial experience, because everything I said stood true at the time, but I'm pleased that I gave the dish - and the restaurant - another try. Everyone has bad days, & maybe some dishes don't translate as well into to-go containers! I even approached Mike & staff after my meal, & they were super-nice; I promptly returned home to write a second-chance review.

Food aside, it says something about a restaurant's integrity when they reach out to a lowly blogger after a less-than-perfect experience. While the end goal may simply be better reviews, the friendliness & depth of Mike's email convinced me that The Kitchen deserved one more shot, & my meal today convinced me that it deserves more shots beyond that. I'll definitely be back, & I look forward to checking out the rest of their menu.

Businesses, take note: The Kitchen's doing it right.

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Service = Serve Us?

Service = Serve Us?

Friday, January 13, 2012

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Since my iPad incident, I've become a rapt reader of Consumerist.com, the website that so kindly posted my story in an effort to spread the word. While the site's commenters often represent the dregs of the Internet, the site itself has proven informative & interesting as far as learning about business practices both good and bad. Because of Consumerist, I've begun to place even more importance on good customer service, as many of the stories they post make it painfully clear that so many businesses are doing it just plain wrong.

In the past, a few of you have told me you appreciate that I so often report my experiences, both good & bad, to the companies who provide them. With this in mind (& after being blasted on Facebook today by the nasty owner of a Chicago wine shop) I thought I might recap a few of my best customer service experiences in recent memory.

• Graffiato
  After an unfriendly run-in with a hostess at my favorite D.C. dining spot, I shot off a tweet to the restaurant & owner Mike Isabella to ask what was up with the icy attitude. Manager Nick emailed me almost immediately, securing my group a reservation & apologizing for the hostess's nastiness. Amazingly, when we arrived at Graffiato, Nick led us to a booth with a prime view into the kitchen & put in free appetizers & prosecco for us! I was blown away - and the food was, as always, phenomenal.
  
  

• Popchips
  When my favorite snack company sent out an email announcing that the first X number of responders would receive some delicious free samples, I was all over it - but when I clicked through to enter my name & address, I found that Washington, D.C., was not an option in their drop-down menu. Upon my getting in touch to let them know, Popchips promptly added D.C. to the list & sent me a whole box of chips to thank me for pointing it out! Nom.
  
  

• ASOS
  The pretty party dress I ordered from this online retailer shipped last week, but when I clicked through to track the package, it said "Destination unknown." Worriesome, right? I posted my concern on ASOS' Facebook wall & received quick & friendly response asking me for my order number, followed by a personal note from an ASOS rep that assured me my dress was, indeed, on its way to Portsmouth. This all happened within the span of, say, 10 minutes, & my dress arrived two days ago.
  
  

• The District
  I can't say enough good about my first (and so far only) experience at this Portsmouth restaurant. I'd planned for Nathan's birthday scavenger hunt to end at The District, so in advance of our meal, I called & spoke to Jana, the hostess, who happily agreed to help out & even called me the day of the reservations to make sure everything was set. I arrived at the restaurant early, sans boyfriend, with a gift that I handed off to her with instructions for our server to bring it out with our dessert as a final surprise. Amazing food, even better service.

Unfortunately, for each of these positive experiences, I can name at least three negative ones, like: the time a server dumped a pitcher of margarita over my friend's head & only took 1/3 of the pitcher price off our bill (Alero); the time I found a rock in my spicy fried rice & didn't get so much as an explanation or apology (Tasty Thai); the time only half of our food came out & we were charged for all of it anyway, just because they eventually packed it to-go (Ping Pong Dim Sum).

The point is this: Good service goes a long way. Though I may complain loudly about bad service, I also try to make a point to hold up good service as a shining example of how all companies should act - because a job well done is just as important as, if not more important than, a job that pisses me the hell off. (It should also be noted that I tip damn well for good service, as I encourage you to!)

So tell me: What are some of your best & worst customer service run-ins? Have you ever taken to the social media  streets to make a case against the places that have treated you poorly?

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The Conclusive List of Wonderful Sandwiches

The Conclusive List of Wonderful Sandwiches

Friday, January 6, 2012

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I am not, nor have I ever been, a sandwich person. Sandwiches fall apart. Sandwiches get mushy. Sandwiches contain cold cuts, & I dislike cold cuts. Sandwiches contain condiments, & I dislike condiments.

But every once in awhile, a great sandwich comes along – a sandwich so tasty that not even a sandwich-hater like me can deny its delicious allure. Here, friends, in no particular order, are the Top Five Greatest Sandwiches Of My Life:

• Pesto Chicken Salad Sandwich
  Wolfgang Puck Express at the Washington, D.C. Convention Center
  I’m going to be embarrassingly honest with you here: I don’t even remember what made this sandwich was so good. All I know is that as I ate it, I proclaimed aloud to my mother, “This is the best sandwich I’ve ever had in my entire life,” & it's held that title - or tied for it - for a solid five years. Despite my poor memory, it makes the list based on the lasting impression it made.
  
  
• Pesto Veggie Panini
  Me & Ollie’s in Portsmouth, N.H.
  This simple sandwich is simply delicious. It’s made with basil pesto, sundried tomato mayo, tomato, red pepper, alfalfa sprouts, red onions & melted provolone on Me & Ollie’s homemade sourdough, served with pretzels on the side. I don’t even like vegetables, but I love this sandwich.
  
  
• Chorizo & Potato Grilled Cheese
  Melt Bar & Grilled in Cleveland, OH
  Calling this behemoth a grilled cheese is like calling the Titanic a boat: technically true, but there’s so much more to it! Melt specializes in gourmet grilled cheese sandwiches, & their chorizo & potato creation is, hands down, my favorite. It’s also too tall for me to bite into. Every go-round with this sandwich results in my needing to nap immediately.
  
  
• Breakfast Panini
  Popovers in Portsmouth, N.H.
  This sucker is definitely not just for breakfast! With applewood bacon, tomato, pesto, & fresh mozzarella on rosemary focaccia , it doesn’t sound like anything special, but it’s pressed so thinly that it’s like it’s gift-wrapped. Gift-wrapped bacon! It comes with a side of fresh cut melons & berries to help allay some of my bacon-induced guilt.
  
  
• Cheddar Dill Tuna Salad Sandwich
  Totally Cooked To-Go, Cuyahoga Falls, OH
  What? A simple tuna salad sandwich? Yes. And no. This tuna salad sandwich is the tuna salad sandwich to end all tuna salad sandwiches. (How many more times can I say that phrase?) I used to call Totally Cooked before coming in to be sure it was on their menu for the day before coming in because if I arrived & it wasn’t, the disappointment was, obviously, debilitating.

Runner up: My very own Big-Kid Grilled Cheese: muenster, goat cheese, baby spinach, crumbled walnuts & a smear of fig jam on ciabatta & pressed in my George Foreman, panini-style. It felt unfair to list this among my top five, as I made it myself. Still… it’s delicious.

There you have it. The Best Sandwiches, period. What are yours?

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Much Ado About Chicken (& Waffle Fries)

Much Ado About Chicken (& Waffle Fries)

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

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Right now, I'm really up in arms about chicken.

Yeah. Chicken.

I don't even remember how the conversation began, but I started chatting with some folks on Twitter about Chick-Fil-A, arguably the best fast food chicken joint in the game. Let's be real: Chick-Fil-A's food is delicious. But their evangelicalism? Less so. It's not like this is anything new or that I'm saying anything special. It's just that the more I think about Chick-Fil-A, the more frustrated I get.

As advertised on a plaque at corporate headquarters, Chick-Fil-A's company mission is to "glorify God." OK, that makes me a little uncomfortable (is an atheist any less qualified to serve chicken than a believer?), but if that were the only issue, I could get over it. As it stands, that's not the only issue.

There's also the fact that the company's founder asks all Chick-Fil-A employees to adopt Christian principles - at least while on the job. "You don't have to be a Christian to work at Chick-fil-A," says founder S. Truett Cathy, "but we ask you to base your business on biblical principles because they work." To encourage this value set, many franchise owners host in-store Bible studies that offer free breakfast to attendees - and at some stores, bringing in your church bulletin will get you a free sandwich, too. Did I mention that the company prefers married workers because it feels they're more "productive"? (One in three store owners attends a relationship-building seminar at a Christian college, funded by the company.) And that they screen prospective franchise owners' family members to ensure that their store owners are effectively managing their households? Relevant, I know.

Cathy, an evangelical Baptist, must be onto something, because the store's employee turnover rate is a mere 5% a year - but that doesn't make me any more comfortable with the concept or the fact that he regularly refers to Chick-Fil-A as "His gift." That's a capital H. Of course, sometimes there's turnover - like in 2002, when a Muslim manager was fired after refusing to participate in a prayer to Jesus at a company training workshop.

Furthermore, while I love me some waffle fries, I don't want my waffle fries funding inequality, which is how Cathy spends a good chunk of his fortune. Earlier this year, a Pennsylvania Chick-Fil-A store made headlines when it catered (for free) a blatantly anti-gay marital seminar- but that's nothing compared to the fact that Cathy & Chick-Fil-A both tithe a percentage of annual income to WinScape, the company's charitable institution. WinScape's top donations go to the National Christian Foundation, which then makes grants to other groups - including Focus on the Family, Family Life, and the Family Research Council. To add insult to injury, Chick-Fil-A recently partnered with Focus on the Family to distribute copies of an FoF's radio show (Bible-based, of course!) with every kid’s meal. Would you like some proselytizing with those chicken nuggets? Chick-Fil-A has said it will no longer donate (directly) to groups with political agendas, including those that are anti-marriage equality, but that doesn't mean WinScape won't - with its Chick-Fil-A money.

Things you might want to tell me that I already know:

• Chick-Fil-A isn't the only company making controversial donations (see also: Target, Best Buy).
• Chick-Fil-A does plenty of good, too, like, donating to education programs, foster programs & anti-homelessness initiatives. 
• Everything I've read about Cathy & his family lead me to believe that he's a pretty good guy - who is, in my opinion, making some pretty offensive choices with his business.

I also understand that we're all entitled to our own beliefs, & that it's likely that many of you won't agree with me here. It's just... how can some of these things not make you angry? I want to eat chicken & waffle fries; I don't want to fund bigotry or promote religious intolerance, inadvertent or not, while doing it.

My soul, it hurts.

Did I mention that there's no Chick-Fil-A within an hour's drive of me? It makes my decision easier. This is purely a rant.

But, but... the waffle friiiiies.

Photos: 1, 2

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Like Buttah

Like Buttah

Sunday, June 26, 2011

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I just got back from nine days in Ohio, where Nathan & I spent most of our time eating (which is business as usual for me). As a result, I am pretty sure I'm about two grilled cheese sandwiches & one bacon-date milkshake away from a coronary.

Speaking of coronaries, some friends indulged my ritual request to consume waffles after closing out the bar one evening. So consume waffles we I did! Toward the end of the 2am-ish meal, three small cups of condiments sat atop our table: syrup, butter & mayonnaise. (That was not mine, I swear - Nathan had a BLT!) I told my friend Peebles I'd pay for his meal at Melt Bar & Grilled if he'd down one of the three available condiments... & he chose butter.

We remain in disagreement about which condiment was the better choice. I say a shot of syrup would have been the most painless way to go; he insists butter was the clear frontrunner. (We can both agree that mayonnaise was never an option.) And yes, we are 16 years old. I dared my friend to eat butter. And he did. And I made a photo collage of it.

Later that week, my pal Anthony blasted through a long-standing two-hot-dog barrier at Happy Dog, a magical place I've blogged about in the past. Though many of my friends have, in the past, claimed to be able to consume more than two, friend after friend has failed in the actual attempt. But not Anthony, who blazed through three & didn't even complain of intestinal mutiny or claim boisterous victory.

My friends are machines.

Also, in assembling this post, it becomes painfully, stomach-achingly (no, really) clear that I need a new hobby. Like, say, exercising?

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Eat Your Heart Out

Eat Your Heart Out

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

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My favorite thing about coming home is eating. Also, you know, spending time with people I love, but mostly the eating. I've been known to make four trips in two days to my favorite hometown restaurant chain, Rockne's, & whenever possible, I try to convince friends to make the 45-minute trek to Cleveland to eat at gems like Happy Dog and Melt, Northeast Ohio's finest artery-clogging establishments.

But some of those establishments, it turns out, exist right in my old backyard - almost literally. While home this week, I seized the opportunity to ditch dieting & embrace unhealthy gorging. Yeah, yeah, judge away. Sometime you've just gotta eat your weight in gourmet in food.

• 
  
  Flip Side
  I don't even like hamburgers (actually, I've never had a hamburger), but I couldn't passup the quirky menu at Hudson's new(ish) burger joint. After an truly epic wait, I bucked the trend & ordered a chicken sandwich with two-year aged cheddar & an appetizer of mini corn dogs. And I washed it down with a Medjool date milkshake spiked with bacon vodka. And my palate will never be the same. In a good way.
  
  
• Pad Thai
  While I think it's weird to name a restaurant after your most recognizable dish (can you imagine an Italian joint named Lasagna?), that's not the point. The point is this: I inhaled my basil chicken with a ferocity not seen since my early DC days, when the servers at my neighborhood Thai establishment came to know me by name. I doubted the Midwest's ability to bring me delicious Thai food, but I underestimated my fair Ohio.
  
  
• Totally Cooked
  On Fridays, the catering-company-slash-café down the road from my house sets up a midday BBQ truck in their parking lot, advertising with the motto, "We do the grillin', you do the chill in'." I paid inside for a pulled pork sandwich & carried my order out to the truck, where Dante, TC's loudmouthed & enthusiastic owner, laughed at me: "I love serving this to my Jewish customers!" Guilty as charged. I planned to take a photo, but this was all that was left by the time I remembered.
  
  
• Mr. Zub's at the Matinee
  Circa 1:00am in Akron's Highland Square neighborhood, I consumed a hot dog named after cinematic porn star Dirk Diggler (see: "Boogie Nights"). It was topped with cheese & onions & chili & was undoubtedly the largest wiener I have ever seen. Pun intended, har de har har. I took half home & can now confirm that cold, leftover hot dogs taste as foul as they sound like they will.

Now, pardon me while I stock up on nothing but Diet Coke & heads of lettuce to eat for the next month as my body recovers...

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Rethinking My Taste for Japanese Food, One Shocking Dish at a Time

Rethinking My Taste for Japanese Food, One Shocking Dish at a Time

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

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The night before Nathan got underway, we went out for a pre-deployment feast. "Let's go all out!" I declared. "Let's try new things!" We've fallen into a routine, always ordering the same four or five things, so we decided to get a little bit culinarily adventurous. Here is where I should note two things about our ordering decisions:

1. We usually order veggie tempura, but I've gotten a bit New Englandy & discovered a like (I wouldn't call it a love yet) of crab & lobster, so I suggested we go with the soft-shell crab tempura this time. He agreed.
   
   
2. Nathan became excited about the idea of knocking something off of his 101 in 1,001 List (see mine here), which was "Eat an animal I've never tried before." Because I told him trout didn't count, he went with sea urchin sushi. When the waiter asked if he'd like egg atop it, he expected tamago, a sweet egg made with suga - so he said yes.

When our appetizer showed up, it looked like this:

Yeah, that's not what I had in mind. While I blubbered on & on about OH MY GOD, THAT IS AN ENTIRE DEEP-FRIED CRAB all while doing my best not to make A Huge Scene (capital letters required because this was a feat), Nathan bravely ripped off & ingested a leg. And then another. He eventually convinced me to - very hesitantly - do the same, though I neither of us could bring ourselves to eat very much of it, & we were so, so relieved when the busboy finally whisked it away.

Except then our meal came:

Yes, ABOMINATION. That's the sea urchin nigiri with raw quail eggs atop it - because sea urchin alone wasn't bad enough. Remember the time Nathan drank a Longshoreman? Yeah, it's sort of like he has a salmonella death wish. Hey, did you want a close-up of that sushi disaster? I thought you might:

 

I'll wait while you struggle to keep your last meal down. And in case you were wondering whether this little gem of a dish went down smoothly (uh, the answer is obviously that it didn't), I caught it on tape for you...

...except that I felt so bad for him that I turned the camera off after only a few seconds. And he dry heaved half of the way home.

Yes, it seems I got a little too big for my britches when I bragged in this post that I'd dramatically expanded my palate. Perhaps I'll stick to good old grilled cheese for a bit while I recover from this one.

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Happy Dog = Happy Kate (Please Note: This Post is Not About Canines)

Happy Dog = Happy Kate (Please Note: This Post is Not About Canines)

Monday, November 22, 2010

14 comments

Something you should know about me is that I typically abhor condiments. I do not eat ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, relish, or salad dressing. I do not like marinades or dipping sauces. I sometimes enjoy barbecue sauce, & I make a blanket exception only for sriracha sauce.

It goes without saying, then, that I eat my hot dogs plain. For all these reasons & probably more, you'd think a gal like me would absolutely despise the idea of eating at a hot dog restaurant that offers 50 toppings.

As it turns out, you would be wrong.

On Saturday, I visited Cleveland's Happy Dog, a hot dog bar & restaurant that only offers hot dogs, veggie dogs, tater tots & alcohol. For a meager sum of $5, you order up a dog loaded with whatever you want, bubbling in your choices on an order sheet that's much more fun than voting ballots & college exams, its sober bubble-sheet counterparts.

But because I don't like ketchup or mustard or mayonnaise or relish, I had to get creative:

We submitted our orders (I should admit that my wacky peanut butter/onions/mole sauce/bacon combo was not an invention of my own but rather was one of Happy Dog's "suggestive weiners"), along with a few orders of tater tots with sides of - GASP! - dipping sauces! I totally lived on the edge with saffron aioli.

It was so good. And we were so full. But... but we had to order more. Because how can you pass up 46 more toppings?! Thus:*

Needless to say, I almost died. This was gluttony to such a high degree that I almost felt guilty, like I was the perfect candidate to become a Se7en victim. Rather than risking stomach combustion, I took the rest of dog numero dos home. Let me tell you, hot dogs are not a few-hours-after-the-fact food - but that doesn't mean I didn't eat it anyway.

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We nom.

We nom.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

10 comments

I'm noticing a theme in the photos stored on my iPhone...

Oh, & don't forget about these:

And so on & so forth.

Thank God I have friends & family willing to humor me.

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No Waffling: The Belgians Do It Best

No Waffling: The Belgians Do It Best

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

11 comments

I took The Great DC Brunch Tour of 2009-2010 on the road last weekend when I traveled to that other city, NYC, for work. Mixing business with pleasure & playing the part of a New York vagabond, I packed a meager four outfits in a shockingly compact shoulder bag & took a train north to spend three nights in the Big Apple, where I stayed with a different friend (all former coworkers!) each night.

I should first note that if I ever conducted a Great Mac & Cheese Tour (OMGsecondbestideaI'veveerhad), I'd definitely hit up New York for the bulk of those reviews, considering I ate no fewer than - don't judge me - three different mac dishes during my visit. But let's get back on topic. The topic is waffles. Ohhhh, the waffles.

On Saturday morning, I joined the three friends I stayed with (they're all friends, too!) at the Stuyvesant Town location of Petite Abeille, a Belgian NYC chain. Rarely have I been as jazzed about a brunch menu as I was about theirs - because what better place to grab a Belgian waffle than from the Belgians themselves?! Fine, our waiter was a Syrian transplant to Brooklyn, but that's entirely beside the point.

Upon delivery to our table, I was disappointed to discover that the waffle was pretty small. Upon tasting it, however, I promptly declared it the best waffle I'd ever eaten. In my life. And let me tell you, my life has seen a lot of waffles. I would even dare go so far as to label myself a connoisseur, so, you know, this is serious stuff.

Sadly, my little waffle-ironed piece of heaven came sans side dishes, which meant that once the glory was complete, my stomach was still a'grumblin' - because even a few bites of deliciousness, if served solo, do not a full meal make. Luckily, I have a bff who is mysteriously disinterested in breakfast potatoes, so I scarfed savored hers - mashed potatoes with onions & carrots, a traditional Belgian side dish. I couldn't put syrup on them because as much as I like syrup, even I can admit that it's not a carrot-friendly condiment, but for once, that wasn't a strike in the Bad Breakfast Potatoes column.

Good Belgian God. Everything was so good. My stomach hates me just for remembering all of it, only because I can't go back, like, tomorrow.


Where's your favorite NYC restaurant? It need not be a brunch spot. But while we're on the topic, WHERE CAN I GET MORE WAFFLES?

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Beer Aficionado Mad Libs!

Beer Aficionado Mad Libs!

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

17 comments

After tonight's (very tasty) dinner at Birch & Barley, it has come to my attention that nearly anyone could fake their way into looking like a beer aficionado, if only briefly, by filling in the blanks of the following sentence: "It's got some nice [insert adjective here] notes & just a hint of [tantalizing noun], which will really bring out the [obscure flavor] in your [overly verbose entree]." Our server was knowledgeable & generous, but his vocab led us to the realization that in order to mimic beer lovers' jargon, you need only intersperse the essential "notes" with the similarly crucial "hops" to fool a less savvy beer drinker into thinking you really know your brew.

Like me. I am a less savvy beer drinker. I drink like I'm from a small town in Ohio.

What does that mean? Well, for starters, it means I mostly drink Miller Lite, when given my druthers. (What are druthers, anyway?) When I came to DC, I quickly wised up to local disdain for my beverage of choice & upped my orders to Yuengling, a taste I've embraced as my go-to. (Dear Midwest: Can you make a deal with Pennsylvania, please? What are you waiting for? Love, Kate)

Still, I don't like good beer, & I am not an adventurous or knowledgeable beer-drinker. I know it, at least; it's not like I'm pretending that my two-steps-from-water drinks are top-notch. Once, at Brickskeller, I told an eager waiter that the ale he'd so cockily served me (I let him pick) tasted like flowers. Actually, I tend to think most beer tastes like flowers - or wood chips, or stomach acid, or some other lovely-but-spot-on analogy.

Last week, though, Cleveland's own renowned Great Lakes Brewery started distributing in the District. Though I missed the launch party at my favorite dive, The Big Hunt, because I was too tired to function, the joy of that event was lasting: Lots of DC venues now serve Cleveland's best brew - including tonight's dinner venue!

Because I like crappy beer, the truth is that I don't like all - or even most - of Great Lakes' brews. Once, on a weekend trip to Columbus, I got so excited by the presence of Great Lakes on the menu that I ordered an Eliot Ness... which I quickly & disappointingly remembered I despise. Still, I was thrilled to see Ohio's prized brew sold in my adopted city, so tonight, at a restaurant known for its fancy beer selection (not a Yuengling to be found!), I took a risk & ordered a little hometown pride in the form of a Great Lakes Dortmunder Gold, which I was pretty sure I remembered that I liked.

The verdict? SUCCESS! I drank it so slowly that it lasted me through an hour-&-a-half-long meal, but I liked it. And it only tasted a little bit like flowers. And I felt a lot like an Ohioan who, for once, wasn't embarrassed of her drink choice. Score one for the Midwesterner in me!

A final note, however (& not the kind found in beer): Why is alcohol so expensive in this city? It's something I'll never get used to or become forgiving of. Can't a girl get a Dollar Draft Night up in here?!

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DC Adventure Ho!

DC Adventure Ho!

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

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At the start of 2009, I wrote about my DC wishlist, all the restaurants I want to try in the city. In six months, I've knocked exactly six measly places off said list. To be fair, if I'd checked out all of these places in six months, I'd be subsisting solely on Easy Mac & cans of beans. This week, though, as I read through the newly discovered DC Concierge blog, I'm reminded just how many things I want to do & see in the District that I've not yet gotten around to because I am either A) too tired/lazy, B) too broke or C) unable to convince others to join in the fun.

So I've been compiling a mental list & have come up with the following:

• Listen to jazz in the Sculpture Garden, even though I'm not actually a big fan of jazz (just seems like something I should try)
  
• Return to Artomatic to explore more than two of its nine floors of creative genius
• Kayak on the Potomac, even though I'm wildly afraid of water
• Go paddle-boating in the Tidal Basin, even though I'm still wildly afraid of water
• Picnic in Rock Creek Park because I'm obsessed with picnicking but never do it (OK, except when I organized one last month!)
• Check out a free performance on the Kennedy Center's Millennium Stage, which I rarely want to go to because it feels far away but really want to go to because the shows are free, cultural & every single weeknight
  
• Attend a show at the Woolly Mammoth Theatre's Pay-What-You-Can Night
• Sit under the stars at the Rock Creek Park planetarium, though I will probably cry because sometimes stars do that to me (& now that I've admitted that, no one will ever agree to join me on this one!)
• Go inside the Washington Monument, which I haven't done since I was a kid, though this requires the dreaded early-morning wake-up
• Shop at Eastern Market, where I have shamefully never been & which also requires an early-morning wake-up
  
• Get inspired at a Busboys & Poets open mic night, though it will probably inspire me to attempt to be artsy, which is not usually a successful endeavor
  
• Go on an embassy tour, despite reports that they're a tourism frenzy

Seriously, it's time to start being a little more adventurous. No more Big Hunt & Paragon Thai. Now accepting suggestions for additional activities to add to the list - & friends with whom to do any & all of them! I promise to stop being tired/lazy, though I can't make any promises to stop being broke.

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Unicorns, Bacon Marys & the The DC Circulator: A Life-Changing Sunday

Unicorns, Bacon Marys & the The DC Circulator: A Life-Changing Sunday

Sunday, June 7, 2009

8 comments

This afternoon, I traveled to the U Street Corridor, apparently now billing itself as "MidCity," for brunch at Bar Pilar, home of the famed (at least from my perspective!) Bacon Bloody Mary. My plan, initially, was to take the L2 bus down through Adam's Morgan & then walk from U Street & 18th to Bar Pilar, at 14th & U. Unfortunately, I missed the L2 & instead walked down to Woodley Park, intermittently running alongside the bus I was still trying to catch & then battling for sidewalk space with tourists who insist upon walking four deep on their trip to/from the National Zoo.

When I got to Woodley Park, I spotted a DC Circulator bus, one of these new-fangled, previously-a-huge-mystery buses that apparently only make a few select stops along their route, connecting riders to DC hot spots more quickly than they could otherwise reach them on buses that stop every four blocks or so. Until today, the Circulators were like mythic unicorns - I'd only ever heard of their magic & glory.

OK, fine, unlike unicorns, I'd actually seen Circulator buses before, though, so maybe they weren't unicorns. How about rainbows? The DC Circulator was, until today, like a rainbow whose origins & shining, golden riches I could never locate the source of. Like, where do they stop? No one ever appeared to know. Total mystery.

Until today! Today I took a chance & hopped onto a Circulator bus at its Woodley Park starter stop, assuming it'd take me through Adam's Morgan like the L2 would've.

Ummm, I was wrong.

Instead, it quickly shot down Columbia, & by the time I realized, I was headed in the exact opposite direction in which I wanted to be traveling. I began to freak out, estimating the cab fare and/or the walking distance to Bar Pilar. But no worries! My trusty Circulator made a stop at the Columbia Heights Target (a little slice of suburban heaven plopped right inside the District!) & then continued down 14th - exactly where I needed to be!

The moral of this story, especially for all you non-Washingtonians who aren't following my directional descriptions, is that I've now discovered a quick, cheap, easy means of traveling to the one area of the District that I rarely make it to but am most interested in frequenting. U Street (MidCity?!) is amazing & has so much to offer - a real city feel, not this gentrified, Cleveland Park-y bullshiz), but it's too far from home for me to ever be very interested in trekking over there.

But the glorious Circulator costs a mere $1.00 & runs every ten minutes rather than the L2's shoddy every-half-hour-if-you're-lucky-&-only-when-you're-in-a-hurry. What's best is that unlike the L2, which ceases service circa midnight, the Circulator will take me to U Street & back until midnight every weeknight & until 3:30 a.m. on the weekends.

Sorry, sorry. The real moral of the story is this: MY LIFE HAS BEEN CHANGED.

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Ain't No Trip to Ohio: A Play-By-Play

Ain't No Trip to Ohio: A Play-By-Play

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

3 comments

I went to Ohio for Memorial Day Weekend. As you may/should know, I LOVE OHIO. I'm Buckeye State born & bred, having attended three Ohio public schools & two of Ohio's state colleges. Others may mock it, reminding me that Ohio is often named the place where never-to-be-heard-from-again TV & film characters move (see: "Friends," "Tommy Boy," & a myriad of others). But this weekend, I traveled back to my beloved home state with a coworker, her younger brother & his friend. They were bound for an Ultimate Frisbee tournament (?!) & I figured I'd stay with my aunts & visit some old friends, though some of those plans worked out better than others. Since I was away from a computer & thus unable to blog, I tweeted my entire visit. If you follow me on Twitter, feel free to ignore this tweet-by-tweet summary; if you don't, enjoy!


PS: Upon re-reading these tweets, it basically appears as though I despised my trip to Ohio. Perhaps I need to work on my emotional tweeting. It's sort of like emotional eating, but more publicly shameful.

Friday
6:19 PM: Buckeye-bound! Columbus, ho!

6:19 PM: Dashboard Confessional flashbacks on this roadtrip. The 18-year-olds are asleep in the back seat & we got all kinds of time to rock.

7:00 PM: Live-tweeting my roadtrip to Ohio. Tune in for farmhouses, hills, fast food restaurants & bathroom breaks.

7:34 PM: Certainly almost just died. Ironic that the car that almost nailed us has a license plate that reads "KEEPHOPE."

7:53 PM: "Welcome to West Virginia: Wild and Wonderful!"

8:21 PM: Playing some pretty bad trivia. Not a radio station to be found for miles.

8:48 PM: Riding a motorcycle does not give you permission to wear a lace-up leather vest.

8:53 PM: Proof that there is a God & (S)He loves us: We just discovered a Hanson "Middle of Nowhere" tape. Hear that? A TAPE! Thanks, universe.

9:13 PM: Why do I still remember every single lyric to songs I haven't heard since 1997?

9:14 PM: How did we end up in WVa. again???

9:34 PM: BDubs! Eat 'n' Park! Applebee's! Guess where? O-H..!

9:41 PM: Come on, guys. O-H! Anyone...?

10:00 PM: I'm about to be a Columbus nomad. Got zero plans.

10:16 PM Daniel ordered four sandwiches at Wendy's - 3 & a half hours ago. and is eating the last of them now. The car reeks of meat (& botchulism).

11:26 PM: Wrong turn. Driving fairly aimlessly around Columbus. Welcome to the Buckeye State.

11:55 PM: Too tired to be awake & hanging out with the Washington University Women's Ultimate Frisbee team (which I don't know any players on...)

12:27 AM: Ghettoest bar ever. At OSU. Smells like pee. Playing "Brass Monkey." $1 cover - why bother???

12:46 AM: We're greasy & have been in the car for 8 hours. I'm wearing a 1994 tee-ball t-shirt. Do not hit on me, weirdo.

1:53 AM: After the creeper came two legitimately cute guys, one a Jew. Who is clearly interested, despite my unattractiveness tonight. Curious...

2:06 AM: Dear cute boy: Please email me like you said you would?

Saturday
9:55 AM: I do not feel rested in any sense of the word. Thanks, fold-out couch & really loud dog.

10:09 AM: I wish my family weren't so painfully unlike me.

11:55 AM: Dear Ohio: Thanks for having Quaker Steak & Lube. I wish I were going there instead of the freaking Cheesecake Factory for lunch right now.

12:48 PM: Epic breakfast burrito: http://yfrog.com/5apb2j

1:02 PM: I hate everything.

3:05 PM: This weather makes me tired enough to fall asleep in my mom's car.

3:26 PM: It was so warm inside Old Navy that I can now do nothing but sit on the couch & pant & be thankful that I found two new pairs of jeans.

5:31 PM: I suspect that this afternoon's epic breakfast burrito is the culprit behind this evening's intestinal mutiny. Tums, anyone? Ow.

7:16 PM: At an Ultimate Frisbee tournament. So uninterested but attempting not to be a douchebag. Mostly just jealous I don't/can't play any sports.

8:37 PM: When my lease runs out (a year from Tuesday), I'm moving to Columbus. Count on it.

8:50 PM: I remembered I don't actually like Great Lakes Eliot Ness. I was just really jazzed to be someplace that had Great Lakes.

10:42 PM: Meeting up with @ohhitsjustmeg at Little Bar, the most unGoogleable bar in this city.

12:12 AM: This bar's packed with trendy, pretty girls - but the kind who somehow make me proud to be here wearing Chucks & a t-shirt instead.

12:40: Hazards of hanging out with old friends inlude being reminded of what an unlikeable f*ck-up I used to be. Not loving memory lane tonight.

1:25 AM: I think my quick temper might freak out my friends.

1:45 AM: Bagel sandwich, potato pancakes & a chocolate malt for $5.49. I LOVE THE MIDWEST.

1:58 AM: "Thanks for taking us to Steak & Shake." "Thanks for giving me an excuse to admit to going somewhere I was going to sneak off to anyway."

Sunday
12:17 PM: Amazing piece of Sanskrit art my aunt made me (watercolor & colored pencil): http://yfrog.com/17a86j

1:15 PM: Indy 500: Sucks to wipe out in the first lap. Don't judge me for watching!

1:23 PM: Nothing beats drinking cherry Koolaid & watching the Indy 500 on a sunny day. Waiting for Moraes to wig on Andretti.

2:43 PM: Every single girl on the Stanford Ultimate Frisbee Team could beat the living daylights out of me. And they're all five feet tall.

7:00 PM: I'm ready to go back to DC now. I wish I could teleport.

7:51 PM: I know I tweeted this two days ago, but... I hate everything.

9:03 PM: Step it up, #Cavs. I'm watching from Quaker Steak & Lube, and I want to watch a win while I'm home.

9:46 PM: Quaker belly.

11:06 PM: "Hitch" is NOT comparable to the fourth quarter of the #Cavs game.

11:10 PM: Who's winning?!?! My aunt says it's not on, which can NOT POSSIBLY be true.

Monday
11:04 AM: I fashioned some earplugs out of a wet cotton ball & slept like a freaking rock.

11:39 AM: It's pretty clear that Jon & Kate Gosselin can't stand one another. Uhh, that's what you get for having an army's worth of kids.

12:41 PM: I'm going insane. I need to get on the road back to the District immediately.

1:14 PM: My aunts are making plans to travel to Iowa to finally get married!!!!

1:42 PM: The Midwest makes it really easy to be fat.

4:01 PM: Live-tweeting my return to DC. Enjoy! It begins with a kid at a rest stop named Cannon. As in, "Boom!"

4:41 PM: Passed a hitchhiker in West Virginia. Those still exist?!

5:34 PM: It's raining in West Virginia, which sounds like some sort of country song. And speaking of country, decent radio is non-existent out here.

6:31 PM: Fell asleep pretty hard through Maryland. Neck cracked like I was breaking something. Yowza.

7:16 PM: Did Chik-Fil-A really invent the chicken sandwich or is this just a brilliant marketing ploy dependent upon gullible customers?

7:38 PM: My friend is now quizzing her brother on principles of macroeconomics. Pardon me while I zone the eff out.

7:48 PM: Driving into the apocalypse somewhere mid-Maryland, where an epic, Biblical-style storm appears to be brewing.

9:29 PM: LIL WAYNE ON THE IPHONE TO END THE ROADTRIP!

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The Return of My Weakness for Foods Involving Awkwardly Placed Bacon

The Return of My Weakness for Foods Involving Awkwardly Placed Bacon

Monday, May 18, 2009

4 comments

I just started reading Cleveland's a Plum, who's clearly from my neck of the woods & who visited DC last weekend. As I started perusing her most recent posts, I was absolutely bowled over to find this photo:


Basically, right now I want nothing more from my life than to drink a Bloody Mary from Bar Pilar, where I've never been. Why? Obviously because IT COMES WITH BACON GARNISH. I don't even like Bloody Marys (I don't think), but for bacon garnish, I could probably talk myself into it.

I know bacon-loving is, like, the newest weird, trendy food obsession, but I gotta be up front about this: I just love me some bacon. To be fair, I don't really love it in strips because bacon fat is, I think, the grossest thing ever, & I have zero desire to look at or ingest it. But as you may have read here (bacon waffle!) & here (bacon chocolate!), I definitely appreciate bacon in its non-strip forms. However, I realize that the Bar Pilar Bloody Mary comes with a bacon strip of garnish, & I've vowed not to discriminate against forms of my beloved food this time - I want to try this drink, stat.

Oh, & I also want to try Bar Pilar's $7 pancake sandwich. I can only assume this is some extravagant, fancy McGriddle, & my arteries are already screaming in pain, but my taste buds... Ohhh, my taste buds.


(Dear Mom: If you post an "anonymous" comment reminding me of the size-smaller-than-my-body bridesmaid dress I need to fit in by September, I will not call you for a week. You've been warned.)

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Another Lazy-But-Amusing Photo Montage...

Another Lazy-But-Amusing Photo Montage...

Thursday, April 16, 2009

6 comments

Even when Easter's over, there are reminders of the joy (?!) of that holiday I don't celebrate lurking throughout the city. Turns out Peeps exist in places other than the CVS sale shelf! No matter my feelings on Easter, I gotta say that this one-eared pink bunny makes me pretty darn happy.


Why on earth would a father/son duo dressed in full hunters' camo be chilling at Five Guys? There's not a deer for days in this city, yet these guys drove in from their venison-snagging excursion in rural Virginia to grab a hot dog in Dupont?


On second thought, camo is still a better choice than suits worn with fishnets. Honey, life is not Rocky Horror.


On the list of things that you, my dear readers, absolutely do not give a flying hoot about, I had the best salad on the planet the other day from Sweet Green, the new leafy greens joint in Dupont. I tweeted this photo during Pesach & a friend said, "You're being such a good Jew!" You might note, however, that there's salami in this salad, so... decide for yourself.


Howdy, y'all! Who doesn't appreciate cowboy-oriented Korean cuisine? Talk about a niche market...


And finally, Dupont's Lambda Rising takes on the online bookselling giant following the now-infamous #amazonfail fiasco of Easter Sunday 2009. How would Jesus feel about your discrimination, Amazon?

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