hunting in the south

I feel like I haven't been hungry for days.

A month at home in NC wrecked my entire system, and I came back gut distended and greasy. Usually just eating at home does this to me because there are nibbles and eats all around. I never stop consuming, and it is never counterbalanced by any physical activity. Every meal is often a spread of meat. I think it's even more exaggerated since I don't go home that often. My dad will just buy cuts of steak and legs of pork and frozen ducks and he even brought home an octopus this time. By the end of the month, I couldn't even look at the hot pot meat, opting instead to fill my stomach with napa cabbage and glass noodles. An otherwise monotonous month was punctuated by Athena's visit, and so I had to pretend like the Triangle Area was a cool place to be.

concentric circles

Pompieri Pizza is actually a lesson in how to cut pizza.  They serve your oversized personal pizzas with a pair of kitchen shears.

ode to orange

I love fall.

And why not?

The weather is beautiful.

I can finally where tights and boots and cozy sweaters.

The leaves are red and yellow and everything in between.

I love feeling warm when it's chilly outside.

The food is the best.

And most importantly pumpkin,

but a close second is sweet potato.

Unfortunately, most of that doesn't pertain because it's spring down under.
And I'm reminiscing about sweet, bright orange sweet potatoes.
Because apparently their sweet variety is white.
But if they don't use pumpkin in desserts... do they use sweet potatoes?

Andddddd here I am returning to this post for the third seventeenth time, and the theme hasn't changed.

Pumpkin pie ginger spice lattes are out to play, and I'm proud/ashamed to say I totally buy into the trend.  Pumpkin picking and pumpkin noms will (hopefully) be another post.
But first, potatoes of the sweet (and orange) variety.

we celebrate by eating excessively

We interrupt my semi-regular scheduled postings of my first romp around Europe because Amy's 23.

You know it's been so long since these meals happened that I'm not even sure I could figure out what they were.

bull city

In honor of the fact that I get to spend less than two whole days in NC this summer, let's go back to Durham.  Compounded with the fact that my brief moments in St. Paul reminded me of downtown Durham and its strange warehouse-converted apartments.

Quinoa and corn empanadas from Tonali.

Remember the time half of the guys went to Only Burger and never came back?

Tonali wasn't really what I was expecting at all.  Because for whatever reason, I had in my mind that it was tapas and Italian - I'm going to just say that some website somewhere lied to me.  Probably one of the more unsuccessful meal trips I've dragged people on, as three of us got waters before deciding to get burgers instead.  And how do you return to a sit down restaurant with a greasy brown bag of burgers and fries?  You don't.

But whatever, guys, I liked my little empanadas.

Vic: Let's take a picture.

Me: I'm on it.

Vic: I meant of us...

Pulled pork plate at The Pit.
Remember the time we spent some quality time with the mythical Marsha?
For all the rave about The Pit in Raleigh, this meal was a little subpar because the meat was dry.  Sides + much vinegar sauce saved the day, but the disillusion is still very real.  At least the atmosphere was nice, the venue spacious and well lit.  I feel like I'd give it another try, but I don't know if that's the part of me that hasn't had barbecue since moving talking.

Bratwurst and sauerkraut from Geer Street Garden.

Remember the last LDOC?

Looking back, I think it's kind of hilarious that I kicked off my pseudo last day of undergrad with a brat.  I instantly decided I was craving one when I saw it on the menu, but if I had known in April that I was about to transplant to the land of brats (amongst other hefty foods) and eat so many brats that I would never remember this one if it weren't for a picture on my phone, I probably would've chosen something else.  But maybe fate.  Or maybe foreseeing the future.  Maybe some weird universal forces at work through my food choice and eating habits.  Maybe like that time I took a Buzzfeed quiz that told me I should definitely live in Wisconsin.  Not saying I'm superstitious, but... 

I've never really thought that I'd want to settle close to home, and I knew I was so lucky to have gone to undergrad so close to home for many logistical and financial and emotional reasons.  And I had learned to really appreciate home after a semester abroad.  But after nearly a year in Sconnie, I think I'm starting to miss home in a different way.

In the end though, I think I'd still choose to live in Madison over Durham because... I don't know.  It's just a feeling.  But I'm starting to realize I took humble North Carolina for granted.  I'm going to love being home.

I read the Wiki page first

I don't like surprises, but this was a good one.
Dinner on the farm at Local 22.

We split a wild mushroom flatbread with frisee, which I could have easily eaten all on my own.

Pesto + prosciutto on the Carolina Panino won me over for the main course.  Half of it ended up coming home with me, and my brother ended up eating it (even though he doesn't like pesto ... what does that tell you?)

The food wasn't a surprise.  The dinner itself was.  A belated thanks to Amy for the birthday dinner.

Stage five: Addiction

Stage four: Dependence

 Someone once told me to stay away from drugs because I have an addictive personality.

It probably doesn't bode well that I finally decided to bet away money in poker.

Nahh, I'll be fine.

Mateo

Croqueta ashe country piquillo cheese

a weekend in desserts, mainly

Can you say that desserts ameliorate your mood?  These past few halcyon days were spent bouncing from Alicia's apartment (to which I have a key-ish, ha ha) to food to Caribou to food and back.
The ambiance of the coffee shop called for a pom vanilla iced tea latte with apple cinnamon muffin, which I tried to make last during Alicia's two-hour tutor session by picking the top off before scaling the edges with a fork to the apparent amusement of the dude sitting diagonal from me.  As we packed up to go, said dude inquired about the closing time and flavor of muffin I was meticulously devouring.
"Actually, I'm not going to finish it; do you want it?"
"Yes!"
No need to offer three times, I guess.

Later, I primed my sweet-tooth-to-come with a piquant Lindemans Framboise Raspberry Lambic beer that had both a bottle cap and a cork... why?  It was essentially juice.  This was while we attempted to make 4th of July themed jello shots.  Blue jello - it's just so artificial and frightening and sugary... and it tastes exactly like blue (you know).  They didn't set, unfortunately, but this is no surprise given the precipitate manner in which we tried to make them.

The next morning (read: afternoon), what got me through the door was a variegated Bojangles bo-berry biscuit (there are blue and red berries now!  It was so aesthetically pleasing, I can't even... ); the delicious payoff was a two-piece dinner box with cajun rice, biscuit, and sweet tea.  I decided half way through my bo-berry biscuit that it is the perfect snack because it satisfies my often ambivalent feelings when deciding between sweet or savory snacks (Goldfish... or fruit thins?  Triscuits...or dried apricots?  It's a daily struggle that causes me a good deal of vexation).

Our way of celebrating Independence Day on the day of independence was to sear some steaks and unsuccessfully search for fireworks.  Ended up watching the insouciant children chase each other around whilst enjoying a cup of banana cream pie ice cream from Parlour.

Started my Friday by venturing out to Hummingbird Bakery (despite nearly baking to death in my car) where I ordered a soporific meal of a breakfast burrito and breakfast bread.  Breakfast burritos take me back to my childhood in New Mexico [Mexico?!?  No... New Mexico].  Something abut the way nostalgia and dishes will amalgamate in my mind that then makes my cravings ineluctable - there's no going back, and I must have it.  I may vacillate when it comes to quotidian decisions, but I know what I want when I want it.  So once I saw the modest breakfast burrito near the bottom of the breakfast menu, my mind became replete with images of scrambled eggs, oozy cheese, sausages, peppers, chilies, and salsa all snuggled up and tucked within a warm tortilla.  The decision for raspberry crumb cake came once I laid eyes on the display box at the entrance.  In reality, it didn't look any more ostentatious than other bakery display cases; something just kind of took over, and I felt like I deserved to have more dessert.  And a nap.

Snaps for me for chugging a lime Red Bull and sitting in B&N for three hours with a Princeton Review book of vocabulary instead of crawling back onto Alicia's couch.
Another trip to Caribou.

If anyone wants to remonstrate to a second dinner, please stand up.  No?  No one?  To Cholanad we go.  I really just wanted another dessert to round out the Five Guys meal from an hour earlier.

Maybe I can consider myself a hedonist...of desserts?  Maybe this surfeit of food is what is causing these phlegmatic nights of passing out on the couch at 12am whilst watching classic Disney movies?
Opted for a mango lassi... which allowed me to guitlessly order the paneer and peas dosa (with an array of dipping sauces, yay), the leftovers of which I ate after ennui had set in at midnight.

I still had enough leftovers for Saturday brunch on the couch while watching Hercules.  Two of Ginny's brownies, a long nap, and a shower later, we were off to the mall where I managed to stave off torpor and hunger long enough to get a chai tea latte (at Caribou, surprise) and snickerdoodle/vanilla bean frozen yogurt from Yopo next door to feed my apparent predilection for sweets (and cinnamon).
The night time was just an excuse to eat our red and blue (no white/clear layer, sorry) jello shots and drink watermelon pear cocktails, and people finally acceded to go swimming under the stars with me where I almost learned how to dive, debated about the sound of a frog (which was definitely a girl coughing in the verdant woods), and got kicked out by the affable Chapel Hill police officers.

My exigent need for business casual clothes took me to Tanger after a long awaited (nineteen minutes) brunch at Chipotle.  A piece of sagacious advice: don't try to eat leftovers while driving on the highway...

I'm contrite thinking about my prodigal behavior this past weekend.  Such deleterious eating habits that I need to change before they become incorrigible.

Can you tell I'm cram/force-studying vocabulary?

Can you also tell my camera died, and I lost its charger?  Well, now you know.

notes: casually driving with my windshield wipers on full speed and my sunglasses on... weather here is awesome
peach syrup + Lipton = fantastic idea

Meelo's and eating expenses

Impromptu visit to Meelo's after finding out too late that Pizzeria Toro suffered a chimney fire. 

Ordered the chicken marsala special because all I really wanted was the mushrooms.

Remember my helpful tips on eating out?  This is where it began.
I had a snack-sized bag of sundried tomatoes in my purse (next to my bag of meds... doesn't everyone? ... no? oh, ignore that then) which I mixed in with the marsala.  It was much needed and a good call and you can judge, but I'm loving my meal.

Successfully appealing to the orgo nerd within me.  Yes, I can confidently tell you that this is the alcohol list... without looking at the list of alcohol - is that more impressive?

So speaking of chemistry and food (read: food chemistry), I'm simultaneously having a concealed mental break down about my future, starting with the fact that I'm painfully lacking in business casual attire for this upcoming IFT meeting (also someone teach me networking skills, NOW)... while daydreaming about yolo//dgaf-ing around the world at Marsha's suggestion after getting into grad school (hopefully, ideally, someone please fund me).
Is that an excuse to go shopping I hear?  Yes, yes it is.

So living on my own forrealsies is fun, especially the fully-furnished-all-needs-provided deal.  This is why I was so eager to graduate, guys.  Responsibilities are left at the door at 5pm and picked back up at 9am with lots of Suits reruns and old movies in between.  The best part is having to cook for myself.  No more considering all the things I'll make but ending up lying on the couch waiting for the rentals to lay out dinner.  I didn't think it possible for me to obsess more about what I want to eat for breakfast, snack, lunch, snack, dinner, and snack for the next day - but it definitely is possible.  Testing the limits of my creativity.  I've already spent $200 on groceries in less than a month, and here I am, still wondering why god why am I still gaining weight?

Good morning on a Friday.  No reason - I just liked the way my bed hair looked.  It's the little things that make my days manageable.  This is my life now.

weird combos

Tagline of my life: It's really not that weird.

I didn't think Dame's Chicken and Waffles was that weird when I first heard of it earlier.  And there's a good hour and a half's worth wait of people at dinner time who don't think it's weird either.  (Just not on Monday-they're closed on Mondays; I make this mistake quite often.)

Just think about it in terms of balancing sweet and savory (this is assuming you are a sweet and savory kind of person in the first place - think: mango salsa with fish or apple braised pork)... but it's better... because we're adding the meat and carbs component.  But it doesn't stop there - it's the fact that it's fried chicken with one of the ultimate(ly versatile) breakfast foods.  And it's not just served with maple syrup and golden butter... nope, it's various sauces (i.e. plum or whiskey creme) and the appropriate schmear (i.e. strawberry or vanilla&almond).

Now does it make sense?  It's less weird, isn't it?

The first time I went, I ordered the gingerbread waffle, but they mixed up my order with my ex roommate's ex boyfriend, who failed to realize the characteristic gingerbread spices are not characteristic of a Classic waffle.  The point of this story is that you should totally try their different waffle flavors because I didn't get the entire experience (though they generously brought me another gingerbread waffle, nom).

The second time I went, I totally forgot what I ordered because I remember debating between everything on the menu.  But I had leftovers for another meal's worth of enjoyment.

And both times we didn't have to wait an hour and a half - win.

And both times I forgot my camera (//probably felt too awkward to photograph my food in front of Jeff - but I've since realized that being an Asian girl, it's very expected of me), so these pictures are courtesy of Alicia.

I spent a good while searching the Interwebs for what other people deem "weird food combinations."  Apparently my idea of "weird" is way weirder than most people's ideas of "weird."  It must be a side effect of growing up Asian.  Or maybe I can start calling myself a "foodie."

Things that really aren't that weird:

Monut's chipotle lime peanut doughnut that was not very well received by the entire brunch crowd, except Anna.  First of all, they explain exactly what it is, so I'm surprised you're surprised.  Second of all, it's that savory and sweetness thing again.  I'd recommend an Asian peanut snack food - it's usually some form of peanuts-roasted-with-sugar-salt-and-chili.  It's not that weird.

Grapefruit with cinnamon and honey.  Apparently people like to give me looks when I tell them that's the syrupy brown stuff atop my half a grapefruit.  And here I was thinking it was a classic breakfast food - I swear I didn't make this up.  Cinnamon and fruit, come onnnn; it's not that weird.

Cayenne in chocolate desserts.  My coworkers think it's weird because it's unexpected.  But what about the Aztecs and Mayans and general Mexican desserts?  It's no weirder than salted caramel in my mind.

Peanut butter and bacon.  Though I can't vouch for chocolate and bacon (never tried it), and though I'll admit I did think the idea of an Elvis burger to be kind of disgusting, it makes more sense when you think about candied bacon.  That shit is delicious.  As are peanut butter, bacon, banana, honey sandwiches - not that weird.

Egg and strawberry jam sammy.  This one was introduced to me by Jordan whilst roughing it in New Zealand.  Also makes more sense to me now though I can't exactly explain why; note to self to try out this recipe I saw on FN (I'll get back to this one later).

Things that I'll admit are weird:

bananas and ketchup - uhhh what... just... what?

watermelon and sriracha - not a combination I'd think of myself but I'd try it once I get my hands on a watermelon

pickles and peanut butter - seen this on many lists and the idea is starting to implant itself in my head; I'm thinking fried pickles and peanut butter sammy though

mustard and peanut butter - this one was a weird combo named by a grad student in my food politics class, still think it's weird

tale of the carbless waiter

 Chapter One: The Venue

I can hardly comprehend what I'm seeing.  Tucked away in a building that could pass as a dentist or insurance office is the in-your-face modern G2B.  The entire menu is displayed over the kitchen like the departure and arrival times at an airport - necessary? no; amusing? yes.  The bar changes color, so you can finally gawk at your favorite liquors in various mood lighting (drinking for every occasion, right?)... or if that's too mundane, you could just watch sports or cooking channels on one of the four flat screens.  The cushioned chairs, while not big enough to swallow you whole, are still comfortable enough to sleep in.  And I didn't notice until more than half way into dinner... but there is a Wii setup in the corner.  So much class to be had.

sugar and cream

4:13 PM back in the 'Dirty D' as they all say (though I try to avoid saying it as much as possible) for the weekend.

Rewarding myself with an iced See-Line Woman from Cocoa Cinnamon.  So many coffee and spice words I'm not familiar with.  Burning in the sun.

[at the risk of looking embarrassing taking pictures of it all...]

I see a father and his baby boy, as he explores the surrounding areas, making friends with the girls next to him.  He's very vocal, and I want to hold him.  He's so fatttttt. :)

Every bench is filled like a high school cafeteria, and they all seem to know everyone else. 

Couches and stools decorate the "inside" although there really isn't an "inside."  We'll call it... within the brick structure.

There's a similar faded brick building across the street - it looks like a restaurant.  It looks quaint and potentially romantic in a small town kind of way.

I see a large white dog waiting by one of the benches.  He's very intrigued by each person passing by.

It's mellow.  Right by the street but few cars actually pass by.

Oh, there's Motorco where the food trucks occasionally gather.

I really want a beer.  By a pool.

Got my GRE packets out and working a rate of one question per... hour.

Days like this when I really love Durham.

It's no [enter big city here], but there are no shortage of dessert places to compliment the cafes (and restaurants I guess).

Cupcake Bar popped up sometime while I was on the other side of the world.  Next to Pizzeria Toro, I like the novelty and atmosphere and the visual-pleasing-ness of it more than the actual act of eating their cupcakes (and by eating their cupcakes, I really mean scraping off the frosting to eat just the cake part).

I wouldn't recommend it if you aren't big on frosting like myself.  It's quite the sugar overload, but they offer minis along with their regular-sized cupcakes.  Went for Irish cream and Margarita, the second of which I was a fan of for the little specks of lime in the frosting.

I'm going to insert another plug about how cute their tees are.  Adorbs.

As I understand it, yesterday was National Donut Day, so I'm a day late on this one.

But Monuts.  I don't even like donuts... but Monuts.

They have both yeast-RISEN (because it alarmed Victor and Eric when I just said 'yeast donuts') and cake donuts.

What you're looking at are chipotle lime peanut (yeast) and strawberry mint julep and my brother's cocoa cinnamon (cakes).  I was very pleased by all, especially chipotle lime peanut (just the kind of crazy flavor profile I would be drawn to).  So fluffy, I legitimately wanted to die.  Not too sweet with just a hint of the savoriness of peanuts.

They close at 2pm, so get their early.  And both times they sold out of their NC donut (sweet potato with bourbon glaze... are you salivating?), which made me wildly upset... so get their extra early.

 We obsessed about Parlour before it was cool.  You're looking at the sweaty crowd of a food truck rodeo two summers back.  The white school bus to the right was Parlour before it became a store next to the giant bull in downtown Durham.

Tried pineapple basil and some variation of cinnamon.  But my favorite to date is salted butter caramel (actually, just.. go.  Go get it now.  Unless it's Monday because they are closed on Mondays).

P.S. their sweet potato is excellent for those who don't naturally associate sweet potatoes with dessert (you mean... you've never had sweet potato in cake form?  What?)

 I'm only adding in Amelia Cafe because we ended the day on their patio after nearly encountering death at the quarry (in the form of a ledge, rocks, and a snake) because Kyle so selfishly wanted a decadent chocolate dessert (jaykay about the selfish part), and this was the only place I could think of that might have something involving chocolate mousse and cream.  The desserts are absolutely huge - worth the money if you think you can lick your takeout container clean.  We split the little triple chocolate mousse cake and still couldn't manage to finish it.

Located in Brightleaf as a part of Chamas, they've also got gelato (which I make a habit of sampling every time I step in) and crepes.

Secretly, I pretend like this is my cafe.  Outwardly, I'm still bitter they didn't hire me when I applied for a job freshman year.  All I really wanted was a shirt that had my name on it (and the possibility of free gelato).

So speaking of sugar and cream... yesterday I learned that tiramisu was the dessert of choice for prostitutes in Italia.  Literally meaning "pick me up," it was meant to keep the girls awake and energetic throughout the long night.  Good to know.

(And bananas are nature's energy bar.)

(And cookie monster balloons are $11 at Harris Teeter.  Funny joke.)

(But cookies are currently BOGO.)

Toast

So... about Toast.

I can say the first time I went, I enjoyed it.

Three crostinis and the butternut squash soup special:

chicken liver, pancetta, pickled fennel (pretty salty, be ready to chase it with water or juice)

garlicky mushrooms, thyme, gorgonzola (probably my favorite of the three)

sicilian caponata, goat cheese, pine nuts (pretty mundane in terms of flavor combos)

And one bruschetta (which is not just crostini topped with tomato and basil apparently):
nc shrimp, pancetta, radicchio

But I felt a bit underwhelmed the second time.  I still like the concept, and the idea of eating a plate of various crostinis is almost as cute as a table filled with tapas.  I guess the problem was how sour the kale panini was... and maybe how upset Alicia was about not getting hot peppers with her shrimp bruschetta.
("It wouldn't taste good; trust me" so says the woman behind the counter.)
I'm just going to pretend like the second visit didn't happen, so my memory of Toast remains untainted.

Snacking away on brie and figs.  Classic.

and we call it bella notte

 I don't know if I've ever hyped up a restaurant in my mind as much as I have Pizzeria Toro.

It took us three tries and a good four weeks of pizza cravings to finally eat here.  This is not including the many months (February is when Ann told me about it I believe) of periodically glancing over the menu to familiarize myself with the ingredients and narrow down my choices.

what is happening?

As if I needed another reason to spend my meager earnings on restaurants.... (click on it, do it).

Though (perhaps not surprisingly) much of my off-campus dinners have been spent at Chipotle - half because it's convenient and quick, half because I'm still eating back the number of Chipotle meals I've desperately craved whilst abroad.

So I'm about a month late on this, but Dan and I walked all the way down Chapel Hill Street in search of Old Havana Sandwich Shop because I awkwardly didn't want to pay for parking, and it turned out to be a nicer-than-expected day anyways.  Found this place whilst researching tapas restaurants (having still been on a high from Puertorican food) - and my top choices were either too far or only operational for dinner and early lunch times.

The place was so bright - if not for the wall of windows, then for the canary yellow paint.  The kitchen was an open space behind the "order here" counter - always nice to see your food come together before your eyes.  I like to play a guessing game of what is what.  And then I like to toy with the idea of asking them if they could teach me how to put together a sammich.
I know it's a "sandwich shop" but I forwent the El Caney (as much as it pained me to give up the avocado) for three tapas that were only $1-2 more.  Kind of a pork overload, but I made up for that by going home to  (nap for three hours and) eat some leftover greenery (and a bag of multigrain cheerios).  You can't tell me I'm not a healthy individual.

Country pate (made from cheeks and jowels, rather than liver)
could've done with more pickled vegetables and possibly some sort of dried fruit because it was ridiculously salty, but the flavor was there and I'm such a fan of the "extra" parts of pork that it didn't matter too much

Cuban slider with maduros
best doused... like drenched with their orange-yellowish colored hot sauce ("mojo sauce" perhaps?)... are you remotely surprised I said that?


I'm exactly halfway between last week's alumni weekend and this week's Blue Devil Days (class of 2017? I feel so fucking old), and "don't give a fuck" is taking on a whole new meaning.  From time to time, I hear people make remarks about not giving a fuck about this quiz or that project or those homework assignments, and I feel as far removed from a stereotypical Duke student as is possible when the only thing I give a fuck about right now is getting at least a D in my classes, so they can't keep me here another year.. oh, and what I'll be having for lunch today.
These next two weeks are such a formality.
As far as I'm concerned, I'm done.  I'm graduated.  Still close enough that I don't feel sad or scared, but far enough that it'll be like... I'm starting over.

Note to self: please please please don't fail your tropical ecology class...

Pop's by day

In my (now half-hearted because I lack time, money, and noms companionship) quest to eat my way through Durham, I usually overlook those restaurants that elegantly feed people by day (or evening) before becoming the playground for drunk college students by night (or middle of the night).  Tell me it's not appealing to be cutting into your steak and potatoes or rolling your sushi in soy sauce while thinking about the number of kids who must have simulated sex here just last night.  So maybe it wasn't on this table, but it was this general area of land... unless you are sitting in a booth, in which case it very well could have been on this table.  Yeah, you're right... it's not very appealing.

Okay, fine.. but then I realize pretty much every nice restaurant in Durham is willing to convert their space into an event venue and I hear raving reviews of how great that nice restaurant is... and I want to eat at it anyways because I always want to eat anyways.

The only time I had set foot into Pop's - and by set foot into, I really mean shoved into by a mob of impatient party-goers, narrowly avoiding having to pay cover, cool - was during it's "club" form.  Hard to remember much when it's dark and crowded and I'm a little inebriated.

But in it's restaurant form, it's a really warm&cozy place.  It made me feel like I was in a cabin up in the mountains (we did have to climb some stairs) what with it's open kitchen giving me a clear view of their wood-burning oven and the color scheme... and the massive wall of alcohol.

Why not go for a $10 pizza at a pizza place?  Salted egg with prosciutto, olives, and (my favorite) cloves of roasted garlic.

I can't say I wasn't underwhelmed by the size of the egg... or the fact that there was only one.  In an ideal world, maybe a little less prosciutto and three more eggs.  Still no stopping my attacking this thing with my hands (because the knife wasn't sharp enough).  Such a great pizza that I slowly devoured through chatting with the girls and being half distracted watching Les Miserables (because I had no knife).

Alicia's pasta dish.  I have no comments except that the sight of corn was very appealing to me.  All she had to say was that it was small.

The dish that intrigued us all was the chicken under a brick.

"I think the chicken is cooked under a brick."

"Does it have a brick flavor?"

I would include the picture but it was not very pretty from Alicia's angle.  The memory I have of it in my head is beautiful though.

Gihan said it was good and filling... in the end that's all I really ask of a meal.

Dessert for me was a lemon buttermilk sorbet palette cleanser... it was tart... too tart for my likings.  Should have gone with the apple crisp.  Always go with the apple crisp.
Dessert on my mind and spring break on the horizon.

Vin Rouge, finally

And a bit underwhelming.

Start thoughts in stream of consciousness:

icy night. north carolina on high alert. had to chip car out with "ice pick." the scariest feeling is almost falling. venue was pretty cute. too dark. heavy red curtains felt like they were hiding something. water glass always full.  I made a game of trying to finish it before she could refill it.  loved the waiter's Frenchness.  too dark.  restaurant week menu was not worth it. ate about two buckets of bread because they kept refilling that too. so attentive. strained to figure out the contents of the dip. olives. not sure about basil. oysters. can never resist ordering oysters. underwhelmed. yeah, here is where I was underwhelmed. received a hot plate of cheese. took me awhile to figure out it was on a plate. my fault really for thinking they would just give me a lot of oysters. took me awhile to realize why they gave me a spoon. so much cheese. needed carbs. should've saved the bread for this. only found about four oysters. treasure hunt. maybe three? desperately needed carbs. too dark. statue of pigs mounting each other? sure. bathroom felt both small. and big. just too dark. needed more leeks. came to a point where bacon and cheese were one and the same. so much cheese. outside the rocks looked glazed. and spikey gum tree balls looked like tang hu lu. fucking freezing.

Revolution

Maybe I should stop pretending like I'm the only person in the world who likes to eat at restaurants and start making reservations.

When Groupon offers you $69 for 3-course dinner for four, you obviously take it.

Long weekend Sunday dinner after being dragged all over Durham on my dad's shopping errands when all I wanted was a bed to finish my nap (maybe I should also stop going home thinking I'll be more productive...).  I have no qualms about sleeping in public.

Revolution was completely booked, so groups of unreserved diners were forced to hover over people seated at the bar... and the three couples eating at the supposed-to-be waiting area, tapping their feet as they timed every bite and salivating as dishes were paraded out of the kitchen.

And since it expires at the end of January, and is only valid on Sundays, we pretty much had just this one opportunity to eat.

Luckily we snagged the corner of the bar (which involved stealing two seats).

I know I've already inserted little quips about how much I miss Mexican food, but the further removed I am from it, the more I want it.  And we were briefly talking about Durham food/exploring Durham the other day.  I still get the feeling that I haven't found a place that really matches up in NC, but the first thing I'm going to do when I get home is to take Alfred around in search of all the sketchy, hole-in-the-wall places.

El Cuscatleco - first Groupon meal and waitress with limited English came with much confusion about the bill.

Combo fajita
Satisfying but fajitas will never be as good as Gabriel's but that's probably because the place was a childhood/family favourite, make a special out-of-our-way trip for it, kind of place.  It was where my dad always took important people who were visiting NM.  Where they have table-side guac service, and I, as an 8-year-old or thereabouts, always ordered the fajitas which took up half the table and ate the leftovers for breakfast because half the fun of eating them was creating your own combinations.

Andrew's tamale with stuffed arepa

Los Comales de Durham

Red chicken mole
 The best part about this place is their salsa bar.  The best part of any place is their salsa bar, actually.
I wish I remembered more about the mole other than that it was nothing to complain about.  This is why I shouldn't wait a year to blog about things.

 Alicia's selection of tacos that included what I think are barbacoa, carnitas, and offal (don't remember which ones).

Dos Perros - graduation lunch with my brother

Chorizo con nopales (aka the Thursday special)
Let my clarify that it was Alfred's graduation, stole him from school after their 5th grade ceremony to take him on a hunt for Dos Perros.  And it was quite a hunt thanks to all the random one-way roads in Durham and my shitty phone GPS.  We ended up trekking for miles (okay so it was maybe about a mile) in the hot sun after finding free parking.  I was ready to give up but the kid really wanted the hot dog dish that they happened to be out of that day (wish I could provide more detail but it's also no longer on the menu).
Anyways, the chorizo was great and spicy and cheesey and I wouldn't mind having sausages all day in Aussie if they were chorizos.

Chicken taco