Grown Up Dress Up

Even though we knew the exact dress L. wanted to see wasn't there, we still decided that going out to King of Prussia Mall and looking around at what was available was a good idea (the place is terrifyingly vast). Though we went to sleep late, we were up and out of the house by 10 am. Go us. I forgot how much fun it can be to try on hideous clothing with another person. I think we both regretted not trying on more. This little pink number's hem was just about half an inch below our ass cheeks, and so laden with fake rose thingies that I felt like a baby in a swimming diaper.
Yeah.
L. turned into a rose-diaper-dress zombie. It was terrifying!
Then there was this one strap number with a bunch of ruffles. It reminded me of something a hooker trying to blend in at a prom might wear.
And then another shorty shorty, which made L. feel the need to surf.

I posted my favorite photograph on the day it was taken, I was so pleased with us. But here are a few outtakes of L. trying to fly like an ostrich.
While it was all fun and games, I did learn that I don't look quite as bad in a strapless dress as I assumed I would. In fact, and I think this is probably just a matter of being in upscale dressing rooms with better lighting, and with the calming presence of a dear friend, but I didn't feel half as bad about my girth as I usually do. I mean. Yeah. That's true. Don't ask me about how I feel today, but on that particular day I was smiley happy Smitherson, not self-hatred McGee.

Beers and Apps and Strangers and Origin Stories c/o London Grill and Jack's Firehouse

Last week, or so, ago, I was googlechatting with L. about her upcoming nuptials and the dresses she wants her bridesmaids to wear. After a bit of back and forth, she suggested coming down to Philly and checking out her preferred dress style, and how it looked on me. Well, she didn't put it like that exactly, but that's basically the truth. I was very excited about this. Excited because I would get a chance to try on the dress in question but far more excited that L. would be coming to play. As the week unfolded, we ran into a few obstacles. For example, it turned out that neither Nordstrom's in my area had the dress in stock. When I learned this, I expected L. to say 'well then it doesn't really make sense for me to come down,' which would be understandable. But she said no such thing. Then, as she prepared to leave Brooklyn, she texted to say that her car was being wacky. This, I was sure, would cancel the visit, leaving me bereft and weeping. Except that it didn't stop her! Even though it was already about 8 pm, she was still rarin' to go. Woot! So, around 10 something, L. finally arrived. She and I were both hungry, and I had a groupon for London Grill, so there we went. We split the duck spring rolls, steak salad and mussels....all fine, but not revolutionary (the fried oysters on the salad were extremely lacking in hot/crispiness).

At one point a man came over and asked about the camera. I told him I had a blog. He suggested he take a photograph of L. and myself...we weren't clear on his motives, but said yes to the photograph. Soon thereafter his wife appeared and I asked them how they met (as I often do) and they told quite the good story. The short version being. Huh. You can't really tell it short. There was a CJ57 Jeep, an unimpressive beginning, a late night drive, and an eventual softening of heart (on the lady's side) and now they've been married for 30 years. I think I was supposed to include a link to their chiropractic practice. Let me see if I can find it. Ah yes, here it is.
And here they are. I love how men will tell the story of how they met their wives, and their wives will often just stand there and nod, amused...but whenever I think the man must be exaggerating, I'll turn to the wife and ask if it's really true, and they always say yes. Doesn't matter whether they're a couple at a bar in Delaware, or a couple on a boat in the middle of the Atlantic, both parties love telling their origin story; and I'm always happy to hear it.
So, after London Grill we decided to have one last drink before heading home (it was later than I usually stay out these days, and dangerously close to last-call). As we were crossing the street a bunch of drunken fools called out to us that we should join their fun, we declined and I commented on the fact that they were probably 19, to which the most jolly of the three refuted...he was turning 26! Again, he suggested we join forces and go to some bar...I declared that we were already heading to a bar after a quick gas station pit stop, and that if we ended up at the same place then it was meant to be. We ended up at the same place. They bought us drinks and were quite nice. I called them fools earlier, but I meant it in a nice way. I ordered a Rusty Nail, and then L. suggested Irish car bombs. This, it turns out, was my first Irish car bomb. Sweet. Who knew? Not me.
We asked one of the guys, a tattoo artist it turned out, to take a photograph of us but he was pretty snockered and we ended up having to press the button and approximate the focus. This was the result. It was a nice and random turn of events. We then headed on home.
Once there L. became just a head. At one point she tried to be just a dead head, but she still looked alive. We went to bed at 4:50. So late. I am not in college, or even grad school, any more, but when you don't start your evening until close to 11, I can see how the hours might slip by a little more quickly. Oh. It was marvelous. L. is one of my favorites, she truly is.
Yay!

Hats

So, from time to time, I write a little something about my experience with boys. Or, often enough, my lack of experience with boys as of late. I've already outlined my confusion over mixed signals, made a few sample 'would I date you' questions, and gone into more detail about the kind of guy I'm hoping to find, but I feel there is more to touch upon. Or, rather, right now I'm wondering about the concept of deal breakers. Let's say I'm on an internet dating site, and a dude has contacted me and clearly demonstrated that he has read my profile closely and suggests a flurry of activities that reflect my, and his, interests. Let's say he calls me awesome. This is positive. Aren't you supposed to have at least a few things in common with a person you might kiss on the mouth? But then, let's say, you go to his profile and what? You see he has a rather large and unapologetic love of one particular hat. He is that guy who is always wearing a hat, but doesn't seem to be bald. And I'm not talking baseball cap, I'm talking old school step up from a fedora hat, which can be cool if you pick the right occasion to rock that style...but to insist on always rocking that style, well, what is that about? It reminds me of a group of kids from my high school, all very smart, all very nice on the whole, and yet they had this thing with hats that pushed them from the cool/quirky zone into the weird/quirky zone. And this is coming from someone who knows she isn't some strange bastion of normalcy.

Can this be, as Liz Lemon would say, a deal breaker? Or is this the sort of thing you ignore because it's petty. The sort of thing you put aside because it's superficial to care. I mean, I would hate for a guy not to give me a chance because I'm always wearing my...oh wait, I don't really have any prop clothing. That's what it is! Prop clothing! It's more than simply wearing a shirt that makes your boobs look good, or hides your love handles. It's a distraction. It's a 'hey look at me with my hat,' which makes me wonder what the distraction is from. Does he have terrible teeth?

How is it that someone can share so many interests and still make you unsure that you'd like to pursue meeting them? Is it me? I am consistently telling some of my single lady friends to give people chances, not to write them off too quickly, and yet here I am: having serious misgivings about interacting with someone who likes what I like...and seems open to the concept of liking me!

Tasting Menu c/o Chifa

Mr. Ass and I have been corresponding for a while about having a meal together. He doesn't live in Philly so it does take a little planning. Though, often enough, he'll call about fifteen minutes before he wants to eat, which doesn't jibe too well with my general desire for planning. It's funny, because I do like surprises on occasion. But, for the most part, I like to know where I'm going and who is going to be there and what we're going to do beforehand. Is that true? I am capable of spontanaeity. This is not the post for a look-see into my obsessive need to know what's going to happen. No. The point is that I sent Mr. Ass a list of restaurants I wanted to try, and he replied that Chifa seemed like a place he'd like to try as well. Jose Garces is quite the restauranteur (did I just make up that word, or spell it wrong?) in Philly, and I tried a little of what he has to offer during our company's big special dinner last winter, so the concept of Peruvian Cantonese fusion was fine with me; dude knows how to cook, let him mix it up. So, last Tuesday, I met up with Mr. Ass and A.C. We started with complementary yucca bread and guava jelly. The bread wasn't bread-y as much as magicky. They were sort of dense, and yet fluffy. More gelatiny on the inside. Oh man. They were really, really satisfying, and served with a great guava jelly as well.

(Also before we go any further: understand that I did my best with taking photographs, and then photoshopping. The place is way low lit, and then has all this red on the walls that reflects on everything.)
We all went with the $45 tasting menu (I pushed it with enthusiasm, I admit). The green salad was great: leafy greens, sweet chile vinaigrette, and crunchy sesame. Simple, not overwhelming in the sesame.
Next up were two ceviches. One was shrimp, and one was something else. I've looked at the menu, and I'm not 100% convinced that any of the ceviche descriptions go with our exact dishes. They were both served with corn nuts (is that right?) and a few chips. One was a-mazing. Truly, just wonderful. While the other (with shrimp and tomato) didn't make my mouth happy at all. It may be that I don't like shrimp that have been 'cooked' ceviche-style, but I don't think so because A.C and Mr. Ass also didn't seem overly taken with the dish.
This is actually a close up of the ceviche I didn't dig. Oh well. The one I did dig was some sort of fish...hm, again, the descriptions don't shed any light on this. I just figured it out. The ceviche I liked was tuna.
Next up were giant shrimp panko fried. I ate everything but the eyeballs, as my father taught me to do. When Mr. Ass bit a little higher than it seemed he was used to, there was definitely some vibrant insides to see. I worried for Mr. Ass, but not for myself. Fried things are always good.
Mmm, mussels with coconut, lemongrass, rocoto, and thai basil. I liked this so much that when my share of mussels was safely in my belly, I used my discarded shells to scoop and slurp up more of the broth-y goodness.

Then pork belly buns! Sweet and savory. Four bites and they were done, gone and happily devoured. Plenty tasty.

And then there were the scallops with glorified fried rice. I didn't care all that much about the rice, but the scallops were done so well. Oh. So well. I realize that though I have cooked scallops on occasion, I have never cooked them well and proper. Perhaps that will be my next big cooking adventure.
Then there was the lamb rack with ginger quinoa, spicy bbq sauce and pickled something er other. I didn't notice any spice, but A.C. really enjoyed the quinoa. And the lamb was cooked nicely.
Chinese green beans with almonds etc were the side dish for the lamb.
So, on the whole, this was quite the nice meal. Everything was cooked well. Most all dishes had a great balance of flavors and textures. But, the individual dishes didn't seem to really fuse two different cuisines and flavors as much as the menu's descriptions would have suggested. The service, however, was not to be trifled with. I will go back. I will go back and try their pho and empanadas and maybe a dessert. I surely will. But this isn't my new favorite place.

Cheese, Paella, Costumes and Cookies

Last Sunday I went over to J. and J.'s for dinner and hanging out. He-J put together quite the satisfying cheese plate, though I think we all gravitated especially to the Humboldt Fog Truffle Tremor cheese. I didn't know it existed, but now that I do, I may want to eat it all the time. The blue and the goat gouda cheeses were also quite tasty, but man, oh man, a ooey gooey creamy goat cheese with truffley goodness? Um. Well. Come on. Let's get real. What more could you possibly want. I have been saying it for a while, but the fact is I really would marry cheese and have its cheese babies. Especially this cheese.
Spot the kid.
S. and N. were in fine spirits. N. put on his dad's nightcap at one point and referred to himself as "Mr. Crazy."
He-J. made a tasty seafood paella with salmon and langoustines and bacon and red peppers and, I'm sure, a few other ingredients I am forgetting.
It was quite to my liking.
S., as he often does when I'm around, and probably when I'm not, had a mid-evening costume change.
He-J also recently made a fresh batch of limoncello and oh it was lovely. A little more fresh lemony. Refreshing and giggle inducing.
See. There are the giggles.

I then took a picture of the feet that sprouted from my belly all of a sudden.
I brought some of the cookies I had made earlier that day. This is proof of two things: that cookies were eaten and that my head is huge and I have no discernible chin. It's fine. I don't even care.
She-J tried on the costume but ran into a problem with head size.
He-J tried out the stroller-on-head look.
More shenanigans were had.
I asked He-J to take a photograph of She-J and the kids and me on the sofa, but we couldn't get our act together to all look at the camera/good at the same time.
Here, She-J and I are making eye contact while the kids watch Spirited Away.


I always enjoy hanging out with these folks, and this visit was particularly spirited and entertaining. Thanks to the whole clan!

Best Thing Ever

So, this isn't chronological. In fact, this happened just earlier today. But it is amazing. And I had to share. The end.

Oatmeal, Golden Raisin and Chocolate Chip Cookies

On Sunday I felt like making cookies was in order. So I made some. They have golden raisins, oatmeal and chocolate chips rockin' out together in perfect harmony (maybe not perfect harmony). Success (on the whole).

Beer and Burger c/o Prohibition Tap Room and Jack's Firehouse

On Saturday A.S. asked me what I was up to later on. I said nothing. She suggested going to the Prohibition Tap Room. A burger and beer sounded lovely to me, so that's what we did. Except she had a salad and fries and beer. My burger was good, hard to photograph, but good. And the beer I drank was also tasty, though not tasty enough for me to remember its name. We watched the finals in men's Olympic curling, which I didn't exactly understand...but I decided it's like bocci ball, only on ice. Maybe.
We parted ways, and I went home. Soon thereafter my phone rang and it was Mr. Ass, asking if I wanted to meet back up with A.S. and himself at Jack's Firehouse. Since that is definitely in my 'hood, I said yes.
I had a Manayunk beer, Mr. Ass had ribs and A.S. had her second salad of the evening. Once the food and beers were consumed, we once again parted ways. I was still home by 11:30, but the double outing made me feel like I had quite the active social life, which is not how I feel most all of the time. So, kudos to Mr. Ass and A.S. for the false sense of living they gave me. Ha ha. Truth.

Interesting

The other day, someone got to my site because they googled 'my life as a chicken.' I want to know more about this.

Seafood Cake and Sushi c/o Doma

Last Friday I convinced C. to come with me to Doma. Well, I'm not sure that convincing was entirely necessary, or that it even happened. So. To start anew. Last Friday C. and I went to Doma. We were both quite taken with the idea of okonomiyaki, "a Japanese style seafood pancake with bacon, assorted julienned vegetables [and] bonito shavings." I don't know how to explain what this actually tasted like, but it was good. The copious bonito shavings curled and unfurled as a result of the heat from the pancake, making the entire dish seem as if it was alive (in a way that I liked, not like cutting a piece of meat off a still breathing fish). Oh man. The pickled ginger, if that's what it was...maybe it was gingered something else...had a nice spiciness to it, while the sauce aspect (tasted mostly like eel sauce) was sweet, but not too much so.
We made a big dent in the dish, but there were a few last pieces left on the plate. For my main meal I ordered the omakase signature roll, a piece of white tuna and wasabi tobikko. I don't know what has happened to my palate, but wasabi tobikko no longer has the same heat it used to. In Chicago I started to find that the wasabi tobikko not only wasn't spicy, it tasted strangely of cotton candy. But that, it seemed, was a matter of a distributor issue for all the restaurants that I had been visiting - mainly Hama Matsu. Man I miss that place. If you live in Chicago, go there please and think of me/somehow embody my spirit so totally that it will be as if I am putting a sushi mold piece up to my lips. So, the point was that the wasabi tobikko had a little kick. And the sashimi piece of white tuna was quite nicely cut, and generous. Though it wasn't the same color as I'm used to my 'white tuna' being. The problem, and I know this, is that the term 'white tuna' is applied to a number of different fish, in actuality. So, the difference in color is, I would suppose, because it was different than the typical 'white tuna.' But here is the strange thing: it still tasted the same, with that buttery moistness. The meat itself wasn't as melt-in-your-mouth-y, but the taste was still very good. I'm not a sushi expert, so I can't make any real conclusions.
The signature omakase roll experience was described as "6 individually prepared maki pieces with chef's selection of fish and assorted toppings," which it was. While I have only positive things to say about the meal and restaurant as a whole, I was a bit let down by the amount of thought that seemed to go into the presentation. Perhaps my real gripe is that I thought that there would be something interesting going on in the maki portion of each piece. In other words, that it wouldn't simply be rice wrapped in seaweed, that there would be something going on fish/taste-wise. So, basically, it seemed more like a bastardized plate of sashimi on rice. While the lack of real creativity was a bit of a bummer, the fish was fresh, and well cut...not that I really know anything about sushi knife skills. My favorite piece is the third from the tuna...I think it was monk fish paté? Or something. There was just this smooth texture going on, and why can't I think of the right word? Tasty? Will tasty do? Maybe not. I also learned that as much as I want to like uni, because I know all the cool, hip, knowledgeable foodies/Japanese people like it, I just don't. This was the fourth piece of uni I have tried. I think trying something four times, even after not really caring for it the first few times is enough. No more uni for me.
I bought a bottle of Vouvray and brought it along (the place is BYOB). Perhaps not the best pairing, but still enjoyable. I definitely will go back. Maybe right now. No. Not right now, I have other plans!

Cheesy, Hammy Toast

For dinner the other night, I wanted to make a sort of down-home, bastardized, cheap version of Tria's truffled egg toast. My idea was, butter upa piece of bread, put a slice or two of ham on it, cover in cheese and broil...while poaching an egg to plop on top. Unfortunately my foolproof poaching technique (which was foolproof the first, and only time, I had tried it) wasn't so foolproof. I am the fool and I broke the technique. So, in the end, it was just cheesy hammy toast.
Still tasty, but not quite as magical.

Leeks and Mushrooms

For dinner last week, I chopped up a two leeks and a liberal handful of mushrooms and sauteed them with a little ginger, soy sauce and lemon.
Oh it was good. The crunch and earthiness of the leeks. The moist deliciousness of a mushroom that has taken on the tastes of its surroundings. What?

Reading

New prompt responses should probably trickle in throughout the day. Mine is already up. I like it. It's kind of dirty. Kind of.