Blogspot Annoys Me Like You Wouldn't Believe

I really hate how blogspot is constantly changing its mind about the order in which one should upload photographs so they reflect the chronological order of events. I am too lazy to fix this, so you will just have to deal. Last Thursday was S.'s birthday. We decided to try out Aki Asian Fusion's happy hour in celebration of this event. Beer was $3, wine was $4 and cocktails were $5. I made the mistake of going with cocktails. Well, it wasn't a total mistake, they were tasty. This was a saketini.
This happened much later (damn you, blogspot, damn you!) when I decided to take a photograph of L. and B. walking with pizza. B. has her deer face on.
This happened earlier, when I gave L. one of my earrings and then it was like we were one giant head. Though it seems like L. is finding this funnier than me in this photograph, I actually found it funnier.
Reverse!
I had the seaweed salad, it was great. I could have done without the tomato but the actual salad was right up my alley: nice mix of sesame and seaweed, with a little citrus and not entirely without a subtle crunch.
This was a Toyko Tower...which is a fancy way of saying a drink like Long Island Iced Tea, only with peach shnapps, plum wine, a sprite-like soda and cherry vodka.

Run, Butter, Run

The Real Thing

Last Thursday it was S.'s birthday. M. brought in some of the most beautiful cupcakes I've ever had the pleasure of meeting.
You can only imagine what the cupcake vampire had to say about this.
It was a massacre. Cupcake carnage central.

It's True, Every Word of It

The New Fatty Form of Heaven

On our way to Fuji Mountain we passed Capogiro, which was funny because during my visit with J. and J. there had been a lot of talk about going to the gelato mecca for dessert...unfortunately the kids were not as enthusiastic/awake and up for a trip to Center City, so it didn't pan out. So when Mr Ass and I passed by the Capogiro storefront, I made some sort of comment about always wanting to try the gelato but never quite getting there. I forget how he phrased it, but it became clear that I had a gelato-in-crime partner...that makes no sense. All to say that after dinner, we walked to Capogiro. There, before I committed to a whole scoop, I tried the chocolate hazelnut, rosemary goat's milk, grape, and cinnamon flavors. Each was wonderful, but choices had to be made.
Mr Ass, if I recall correctly (which I sometimes don't) had orange and some sort of marvelous chocolate. This is a blurry photograph that doesn't really prove what flavors he ordered.
I ended up with the cinnamon (which tasted a lot, to me, like horchata...in a great way) and the rosemary goats milk. Oh my god. This was five dollars. And you know what? It was worth it. It is so, so, so, so, so good that I don't live closer to this place. I keep wondering whether a roundtrip walk of three miles would burn off the calories of this small of gelato. I'm thinking probably not.
But I dream. Oh yes, I dream.

Sushi c/o Fuji Mountain

On Sunday, Mr. Ass and I planned to take advantage of a 20% coupon I found that was going to be honored by a number of Japanese restaurants around the city. Since Umai, Umai is pretty darn close to me, we agreed to go there. Unfortunately, Umai Umai is closed on Sundays. This put a momentarily medium sized wrench in our plans, but we rebounded and went to Fuji Mountain instead. There we had sake, edamame, salad, miso soup, the Fuji Royale sushi option (two rolls, 18 pieces sashimi), a cheek to mouth (or some silly named) roll and I, as you might be able to believe, ordered ikura as well.
Everything was good, but nothing was amazing. I'm sad about this, since I'd like to say better things since this was actually my second time at the restaurant, the first of which I felt relatively positive about. It's not a restaurant to be avoided, I just don't think it's a restaurant to go out of your way to get to. Wow. I said it.

What You Do While Waiting For A Chicken To Roast

On a Saturday, not this past one, the one before it, I think...I went on over to J. and J.'s with the intention of hanging out and making a chicken. I had been suggesting I make them dinner for months now (they have certainly fed me a number of times), it's a shame that I finally went through with it soon after male J. became a vegetarian. Sigh. Anyways, while the chicken was cooking we all went outside in the lovely warmth.

J. and S. played some ball.

S. specifically asked for me to take a photograph of him making this face.
And this one too, I think.
This may have been my idea.

The View Outside My Window...Until It Rained and All the Blossoms Fell Off

I put a wind chime in the tree right by my bed. It is not too loud or annoying. It's very nice.

Sushi Snack c/o Umai Umai

I had an unbearable hankering for udon noodle soup the week after Easter. So B. and I went to Umai Umai. I ordered the udon to go (I wanted to watch Lost while eating noodles, so sue me) and we ordered sushi to munch on while waiting for the soup. I think in actuality the soup waited for us to be done with our sushi...but whatever. I ordered white tuna, a yellowtail roll, wasabi tobbiko sashimi and a piece of lovely eel. It was all quite nice. The white tuna was not actually as wonderful as some pieces I've had in the past. The yellowtail was fresh and cut thicker than I am accustomed. Wasabi tobbiko on a spoon is sorcery in its purest form and unagi, well you simply can not go wrong with a little eel. The udon was only alright...it made me miss Tokyo Marina something awful (those of you in Chicago should go there and eat some udon for your homey...your homey is me).

Caviar and Catan, The Only Way To Be

Panda, M. and A.'s dog, was not at her best that weekend either. She had played too hard with the other dogs and pulled a muscle. So, for the most part, her job was to be on painkillers and lie down. She did quite well at this...she also slept with me on my second night in the house. Zul sleeps with me, but a cat's mass (even one as fat as Zul) is not quite the same as that of a dog. Or, put another way, a dog's heft is more person-like. It has been a long time since I have regularly shared a bed with another. There is certainly a give and a take. Panda's take preference is to claim about as much space as possible, leaving me with a fair chance of falling out of bed. My take preference was not falling out of bed, so I authoritatively asked her to please move over (ie: nudged her a lot). The plus was, of course, the warmth and solidity of another living thing nearby. Hm. I have no point. Just thinking about sleeping with living things is all.
For dinner we feasted on smoked salmon, and two types of caviar...and pate. Because that's how we do and that's how we roll(ed that night).
We also had a truly excellent Pouilly Fuisse white wine. Mmmmm. Oh, and what do you see in that photograph? Yep, that's what I like to call Catan. Mainly because that's what the game is.

I brought Catan with me to Brooklyn on the off chance that stars would align and C. and I might end up playing. Alas, that was not to be...but I was pretty certain that A. and M. were totally going to be Catan people. Unfortunately it's been nine million years since I last played the game and I forgot the diagram that shows the proper beginners' board...so I approximated. It worked. At first M. and A. were entirely non-plussed. I did a shoddy job explaining it and I could tell they weren't getting the glory. But something happened mid-way and A., especially, really jumped on board...which when I think about it I think getting on board with Catan is almost synonymous with 'acting like an asshole and trying to trade one wood for five ore'. I was very pleased. Especially when, after the first game, it was suggested that we play again...immediately. I wish A. and M. lived in Philadelphia. I also wish they weren't moving to Seattle. Whatever.
It probably goes without saying that I won the games we played. While I'd like to say this was because of my awesome-ness, I think it was more about M. being new to the game, tired and sad and A. being new to the game and sad. I can't wait to play with them again.

Looking Out

I really like this photograph as a photograph. I can't remember if M. is using binoculars to look at a bird or that speck of blimp. Either way. I win.

The Hunt

After feeding ourselves well, we had M.'s grandmother judge our Easter eggs...she was the only one who had not been present during their making, thus was as impartial an egg judger as we were going to get. Many eggs caught her eye...because they were all pretty great...she liked mine best. Heh. I am a jerk.

Then there was the hunt. First we walked the boundaries.

Then we had the hunt, of which there is not a single photograph. I did, however, get some video...but I am too lazy to deal with it...which probably means it will rot in a folder for all eternity. Poor video. It seems that I am an egg finding machine...ie I found the most eggs. It was a good day. It was an eggtory (you know, victory but with eggs?).

Easter Cake

For Easter supper we started with cake...okay, that's not true in the least! But there was a cake, and it went through a number of stages before its inevitable slide down our gullets.
I brought a Malbec to have during dinner. We opened it before the food hit the table, it was nice.
Easter supper was lamb chops and twice baked potatoes. Oh man. The lamb was wonderful but the potatoes? Like magic. Potato magic. Magic in a nightshade skin. Some sort of crazy root vegetable, starchy miracle. They don't look like they have that much mojo going on, but believe me...they do. There was cheese and bacon and sour cream and something else right delicious. Oh man.
So the cake was really rich and had a souffle-like quality to it. The recipe (Nigella somebody?) then called for chocolate whipped cream to be spread in the depression that resulted from the cake 'falling'. This is M. whisking that chocolate whipped cream, see how fast her hand is moving? At the speed of chocolate.
A. felt very strongly that a Cadbury Cream Egg (it was actually a caramel one) should be centered in the cake. Skepticism abounded, but his dream was realized.
I believe it was also A. that thought a smattering of Peeps would also add to the overall aesthetic look of the cake. He was the only dude, and I think he had a room full of women rolling their eyes in his general peep putting direction. Are you looking at the lovely layers going on? Are you? Take a look.

Why You Indeed

While searching for the link to my last Easter with M. and A. I came across this blog gem. I give it to you, for the second time.

One Lane Bridge/Why The Country Surpasses City Every Time

After the egg making M. and I went on a walk. We donned hats from her mother's hat drawer to fend off the windy air and walked down a very steep hill with one goal: to take photographs of the nearby old school bridge.
There was plenty of open space, spectacularly well kept stone barns and even the occasional hay bundle.
The bridge.

M. says that this little sign is an attempt to keep rapskallion (how do you spell that word?) teenagers from using the area underneath the bridge for nefarious purposes (re: sex, drugs and apathy).





We took a small detour on the way back and walked on a path that, if I remember M.'s words correctly, had once been a rail road track.
Or perhaps it used to be the ocean?