this is your brain on bacon

Bacon.  It's kind of like The New Superfood except that it'll kill you, not make you stronger.  In addition to its high fat and cholesterol content, there is a carcinogen in bacon that is activated through the cooking process.

Nevertheless, Bacon.  People love it.  All kinds of people - big people, little people, fat people, thin people, couch potatoes, athletes....and vegetarians?  Yup, sometimes vegetarians love it, too.  It's been referred to as the "gateway meat," the one temptation that proves too much even for a committed vegetarian to resist.  I've heard stories of friend's friends who are steadfast vegetarians... until they get really drunk and then they want to eat bacon.  I guess it's not made of pig when you're drunk.

But listen, I'm not here to criticize.

If you ask most vegans/vegetarians what one thing they miss, taking animals and the environment and everything else out of the equation, it's normally bacon.

Once upon a time, in a land kind of far away (not really), I had a weekend tradition.  My friends and I would go out to a club/bar on Friday night and drink and dance until it closed, then we would return to the home of the friend who lived almost right behind the bar/club, eat nachos and then either disperse or fall asleep.  The following morning, we would curl up on the couch and drink coffee and watch ridiculous things on the TV until we were hungry enough to send her boyfriend to the nearby Burger King for food (yes, I thought that's what it was way back then).  I always got a #5 value meal with Dr. Pepper.  The #5 was a Double Bacon Cheeseburger with fries and I loooooved it.

Time passed and the "weekend treat" turned into my Go-To "to go" meal.  I would even get the "gourmet" version at a local Philly pub.  I truly don't know how I lived long enough to become a vegetarian, but I'm glad I did (and so are my heart, arteries, and waistline).

Believe it or not, this is all building up to my lunch today.  Please keep breathing - I didn't eat a double bacon cheeseburger...

I had a Ziggy Burger from HipCityVeg!  Please excuse the rotten picture - the place was packed, so I took my biodegradable, recycled-and-recyclable bag of lunch across the street to Rittenhouse Square and I care way too much about whether strangers will think I'm weird for photographing a burger, so I just took a crappy picture with my ancient dumbphone.

Anyway, I actually had planned to get the Philly Steak, but when I asked about getting it without the mushrooms and onions, I was told that they were "cooked into" the seitan, so that ended that little dream.  The bubbly, cute girl behind the iPad "register" suggested the Ziggy Burger.  She had me at "smoked tempeh," so I decided to give it a try.

Once I'd seated myself on a bench in the park, I pulled my burger out and was immediately amused by the wrapping:

It looks even neater up close.

The first bite of my burger was an almost otherworldly experience - I never thought I would taste a bacon cheeseburger again, but that is exactly what the Ziggy Burger tastes like.  It was so good.  I don't even want to describe it, I just want you to go to HipCityVeg and try one yourself.  Or anything else from this amazing menu...

photo credit

I want to try everything that doesn't involve Portobello mushrooms.  This is a goal that will likely be spread out over several paychecks, since the fast food set-up does not over-ride Rittenhouse Square pricing.  What's worse is how I only vaguely cringe at this point when my burger came out to $9.10 (including tax).  Actually, no, what's THE worst is that $9.10 only covered the burger.  If I had gotten fries (or kale!) and a drink, I'd have paid $15-20.  For lunch.

That being said, it was a great burger (though I kind of suspect the patty itself might have been a Boca vegan burger...) and when I entered the joint I was offered a free shot of their "Groothie," a green smoothie made of apples, bananas, kale, and pineapple and it was amazing.  I would totally pay $3.50 for it... on occasion.  I was fortunate to get there at a "lull" in the excitement.  Yeah, every seat was taken and some people were lined up along a wall waiting for their food, but I walked right in and up to the register to order - no waiting.  I must have (for once) had perfect timing, because by the time I moved to the wall to await my white satchel of burger with HipCityVeg stamped oh-so-indie-ly upon it in black ink, there was a queue of people straight out the door!

If you miss bacon, do yourself a favor and go to HipCityVeg.
If you love bacon and still eat it even though it will kill you, do your body a favor and go to HipCityVeg.
If you just love to eat good food (tasty and nutritious!), go to HipCityVeg!


Maybe I'll see you there after I get my next paycheck ;)  I'll be the one with sweet potato fries, sauteed kale, and a groothie begging the lady with the iPad to take my money.

klutz in the kitchen

You would think I didn't know my way around a kitchen.  You'd think I've never cooked before... or measured anything... or stirred a pot.  If you haven't been following this blog for the last couple of years, you might think I was just learning to cook from the way I was dropping things and tossing things around tonight.

You know, it's ridiculous - I took a couple of days off from my kitchen and it's as though I've never handled a measuring spoon or a spatula before.  I spilled water, poured salt all over the counter, knocked rice on the floor, and dropped at least two measuring spoons.  I tossed bits of spinach all over the stovetop and God forbid I transfer the coconut milk from the counter to the pot without dumping some of it on the skillet and pan-frying tofu in the process.

Fortunately, it all came together (after a little swearing and a lot of stooping) to make Sag Paneer from Celebrate Vegan.

I'll be honest, I was not all that impressed, after all my hard work (of spinach-slinging, salt-spilling, and rice-scattering).  It was really rather bland, despite the addition of the maximum amount of salt (plus a little, probably) and the shallot-garlic-ginger base.  I caught Mister trying to be subtle as he snuck more salt onto his second serving and unabashedly doused both servings with a generous amount of hot sauce (at my suggestion).  I did not have an opportunity to test this before the cookbook was published, but I wish I had so I could have suggested a ton more flavor.  One of my favorite parts of Indian food is the almost overwhelming 'spiceyness' and flamboyant flavors - those aspects were disappointingly absent from this recipe, making me glad as heck for the overboard flavors in The 30 Minute Vegan's version of this Southern Asia staple.

Angst still seemed to think he urgently needed to share Mister's dinner...

"This is my Imploring Face"
(note the paw on Mister's knee) 

"Please, Mister, I NEEDS!"

So, Black Friday I came home and ate leftover Spanakopita and leftover Apple Pie.  Saturday I slept most of the day, drank some coffee, got another make-up delivery, and then went out on a belated Anniversary Dinner with my hubby because....

...Vedge finally opened!  Hallelujah, folks.

I took a bunch of pictures, but it's possible that Vedge is even dimmer than Horizons was, so none of them came out.  Here's the synopsis:

I started out with an Apple Cide Car, per the power of suggestion from Dynise's review of the Friends and Family night.  With dinner, I enjoyed a nice glass of Dolcetto.  The server explained that the Chef suggests three plates per person and that the menu lists plates in order from light to heavy.  To share, Mister and I ordered our old favorite from Horizons - Truffled Fingerling Fries, a newsie Crispy Cauliflower with Kimchee Mayo and an order of Roasted Baby Broccoli from their "Dirt" list (today's fresh veggie sides).  I elected to try a new dish, despite many of my favorites from Horizons making a slightly altered appearance on the menu - Steak-Spiced Tofu with squash, chanterelles, and a few other unidentified vegetables.  I can honestly say that this dish marked the very first time I have actually found mushrooms enjoyable.  I will not be seeking them out any time soon, but it was nice to not have to eat around them.  Mister stuck with what he knows, ordering the Grilled Seitan, even though it came on a bed of beluga lentils with some mushrooms surrounding it.  It was so refreshing to be able to order and eat anything on the menu.  The delightful thing about the small plates thing Vedge is doing is that it enabled us to order and enjoy dessert without feeling like total pigs (and since it's much further from home, the walk back helped burn off a few calories).  Mister, as usual, got Fig & Quince Cheesecake and discarded the fruit.  The figs tasted kind of "green" and the quince was middle-sweet.  I would have left them on, myself.  I got the Sticky Toffee Pudding with Pumpkin(-spiced) "ice cream" and loved every warm, melty bite.

As a side note, Angst helped me finish the blog post tonight and Mister took pictures:

how Anne Rice helped me make spanakopita

I'll tell you what - I don't care if it makes me a geek - I like Anne Rice.  I like her books, I like her storyline, I even like her personal life (what I know of it).  I love how descriptive she is and how she has helped me to broaden my vocabulary and taught me the names of two of my all-time favorite bands (which may also tag me as a dork: Savage Garden and Evanescence).  There are times when I read her words through the eyes of a grammar snob and think of how absolutely horrendous her writing is from a technical standpoint, but she isn't teaching English class, she is trying to paint pictures with words, which she accomplishes flawlessly.

Like many people, I imagine, I was introduced to Anne Rice in 1994 when Interview with the Vampire took up movie screens across the country and discussions between bigger geeks than I took up basements and Denny's all around the country, arguing about how much better the book was than the movie.  The book?  I was a teenager in 1994 and although I had always had a love for reading, I had such limited free time that when the option was to read a book or watch a movie based on that book, the movie won every time.  It wasn't until a few years later, when I discovered "the book" in my college library, of all places, that I grew to truly love Anne Rice.

I read "the book" and finally understood two things.  First, I understood why people who read the book before seeing the movie were almost universally disappointed in it - there was a great deal more detail in the book which elucidates parts of the story that don't quite connect in the movie (or would have connected better).  Also, the actors appeared miscast when compared with the images she creates for them in the book - although I will maintain with my dying breath that no one could have pulled off Lestat the way Tom Cruise did, Antonio Banderas and Brad Pitt should have swapped parts, at least in terms of the physical descriptions she provided.  However, she paints a stronger picture of Louis's character than what Brad Pitt portrays with his beautiful pout and I regret to say this, but he didn't do the character justice.  Nevertheless, this is not a book review - I'm actually going somewhere with all this.  The second thing I learned was why so many of my friends loved reading her books, which resulted in me working my way through the magnificently interwoven Vampire Chronicles, and then discovering her one-offs, like Violin and Cry to Heaven.

That leads to my second time reading through The Witching Hour, part one of a trilogy of books about the Mayfair Witches (supposedly).  I read through it several years ago but discovered at the end that it was part of a series.  The series was 20 years old, so I had considerable trouble locating the other two books.  Just this summer, I came into possession of both, so I'm starting over.  I'm nearly through this book, but it took a while.  I thought I could get through it in the week between jobs, but it is 1,043 pages long.  To give you an idea, that is about half the length of the Bible.

Here is the connection: how do you get people to read a book that is over one thousand pages long?  By using small print and reaaaaallllly thin paper so it looks like a normal-sized novel from the outside.  This is how Anne Rice helped me make Spanakopita from The Accidental Vegan.  Finally.

The most daunting thing about spanakopita (and baklava and tiropita, etc) is working with phyllo dough.  I think it's kind of deceptive to actually use the word dough because there is no human way to get dough rolled that thin.  How thin?  Probably a middle ground between the thinness of the rice paper used to print older Bibles and the paper Anne Rice uses to make her books seem surmountable.  I will admit, I was surprised at how easy it was to work with the phyllo sheets after getting myself so worked up about them.

I've determined that the reason they didn't freak me out is because I've spent weeks now turning fragile, super-thin pages in this never-ending saga of three hundred years and thirteen (spooky!) generations of witches.  As such, I was not too concerned about tearing these fragile sheets of "dough," rather, I just carefully pulled them apart and gently laid them atop one another.  It was great fun "painting" each one down with my bowlful of oil.

The recipe makes 12 squares and we each had three.  It was a fun and tasty dinner and we each gave up on trying to eat like civilized people (with a fork) within minutes of the flaky top exploding all over our plates.  I was a little concerned about the filling, since I kind of felt like I should have used the tofeta marinade from Vegan on the Cheap, but I had already used my Tofu Xpress to squish all the liquid out of both the spinach and the tofu, so I didn't feel like investing even more time to let the tofu marinate and then have to press it again.  Fortunately, the spices from the spinach-garlic mixture penetrated the tofu during the baking process - which smelled absolutely divine, by the way - and resulted in a tasty, almost-feta flavor and texture.


Mister was thrilled with his little Greek wife making spanakopita for the first time (I was just pleased as punch that it wasn't awful) and we both enjoy it from time to time.  Although this certainly will not regularly enter any kind of dinner rotation, it's good to know it's not that difficult to make.  I will probably give it another go in a couple of months and introduce my family to the glory of Greek finger foods at Thanksgiving.

autumn in july

It's hard to believe that my first full day in San Francisco was a week ago!  What was harder to believe than that, though, was the difference between Philadelphia and San Fran, temperature-wise.  Mister walked me out to catch a cab at 5am.  In the midst of a serious heat wave, at 5am it was already 86 degrees with a serious amount of humidity. By the afternoon, temperatures would soar over 100 degrees, with a heat index of 115.  By the time that happened, though, I was pulling on my jacket and wrapping a scarf around my neck to protect my tender throat from the ripping wind and low-60s temperatures in San Francisco!

San Francisco?  Wait - did someone say Picture Parade?

After flying from one side of the country to the other, as well as remembering how mind-numbingly boring the Salt Lake City airport is and being amazed that Delta still serves complimentary snacks on their flights, I made my way through San Fran's public transit system, BART, and arrived at the bottom of the 4-block hill I got to climb to reach our hotel.

Here is our pretty (and yes, Jackie, tiny) room at The Chancellor.  I loved the hunter green accent wall.  I also loved the warning strategically placed on the floor of the bathroom.

There are two things of which I am certain: the first one is, if you're looking down to see that warning, you will probably notice that the surface is elevated.  The second thing I was certain of was that I would inevitably forget and trip into the bathtub - I'm still surprised that didn't happen.

How many hotels really provide a rubber ducky?

After settling in and hanging up some more wrinkle-prone clothes, Sister and I headed out into Union Square to see the sights.  We popped into Lush, but ultimately did not buy anything because it always feels stupid to buy stuff from stores I have here in Philadelphia - also, I'm not sure how well some of that stuff would travel.

We did need to grab a few items (oops - toothpaste is good to have) and there are two things on almost every corner in San Fran (from what I saw) Starbucks and Walgreens.  I was pretty happy about the first, but the second came in handy.  Additionally, they had these awesome vegetable chips so my sister and I got a couple of bags and headed out to the actual Square to do some people-watching.

Sister got Taro Chips, which tasted kind of like a cross between potato and sweet potato chips.  As Sister explained, this makes sense, since taro is a root vegetable.

I couldn't contain my excitement upon finding Jackfruit Chips.  I've seen Jackfruit as an ingredient in a few recipes I have and entrees at restaurants, but I've never actually seen or eaten Jackfruit.  With great anticipation, I tore open the bag and took a deep sniff - to discover that jackfruit chips smell awful.  They tasted great and had a satisfying crunch to go along with just the right amount of sweetness, but they sure did smell bad.

This ended up being breakfast on day 1 in Oakland

Never fear!  We had reservations at Millennium for dinner, so when we were finished munching on chips and watching a far more colorful array of people than those I've watched in Philadelphia (I'm telling you, there's something about California that brings out the crazy in people - it's like the whole state is one giant cocktail), we headed back to the hotel to shower, dress, and make ourselves up for a delightful dinner (generously covered by our Dad).

The restaurant was intimately set, with dim lighting and tables a bit closer together than I would have put them (then again, each additional table probably brings in at least $500 more a night).  It was darkly trendy with a waitstaff that was edgy and yet completely professional and well-versed in the etiquette of fine dining.

We started with a plate of Herb Marinated Olives, accompanied by bitter (in a good way) orange segments and caramelized onions.  As we picked at that, our server helped us select a nice, local Dolcetto to accompany our meal.

I'm pretty sure PA wine stores don't carry Urban Legend and that is a shame for many reasons.  First, it's a nice, easy to drink wine that went well with each course of our dinner.  Additionally, there is always something charming (to me, at least) about drinking wines that give a tip of their anthropomorphic hat to city life.

It was a nice, dry balance to the salty olives, but our appetizer was similarly complemented by this wine.

We shared a Black Bean Torte, laid over top of a ragout of savory veggies and cashew "sour cream."  I don't know if it always comes in two pieces or if they did that because I mentioned Sister and I would be sharing, but it was just the right amount for each of us.

Sister was so great about letting me photograph everything we ate before she touched a single shred of lettuce.  Here she is, posing with her entree, South Indian Cornmeal Crusted Zucchini.  She had such a hard time choosing between the two curries on the menu - at least I know what to cook for her when she comes to visit - I can make a pretty mean curry when I need to.  Ultimately, we enlisted our fabulous server's assistance in that choice, too.

While it was ineffably exciting to know that I could choose anything on the entire menu, I had little trouble deciding on my entree.  I can't remember exactly what it was called, but it involved a crispy, egg roll-like crust, filled with eggplant, grilled seitan and a bunch of other tasty things.  One thing it had was oyster mushrooms - since Mister can't stand mushrooms, I really haven't experimented much with them, so I figured I'd give these a try.

They weren't awful, but I'm still not a mushroom lover, no matter how good for me they are.  Something interesting that I noticed was how seafoody they tasted.  I assume that's how they got their name, but there was a remarkable sea-oriented flavor to these dirt-dwellers.

It was a lot of food - the portions here were a bit more generous than those served at Horizons, and I always felt that Horizons' portions were perfect.  Neither of us finished our entrees, having pigged out on the olives and had a good go with the torte, but we agreed to forego the last bites in order to save room for dessert.  I mean, really - you can't go to a renowned fine-dining restaurant of any stripe (much less the colorful zigzag of vegan!) and leave without dessert.

Especially when it looks like that.  We dwelt on the menu for a few minutes, briefly tempted by the Sweet Endings montage of cookies and truffles, but ultimately, could not keep ourselves from ordering (and sharing!) the Chocolate Almond Midnight: vegan chocolate and white chocolate mousses on a chocolate and almond crust laid on top of a generous squiggle of raspberry sauce and sprinkled with cocoa.  It was astonishing up to the very last bite which we each tried to pawn off on the other.

I won.  By that I mean, I ate the last bite.

After convincing our food-babies to let us stand up, we finished the last swigs of wine and headed out the door for an invigorating (if a little cool) walk back to the hotel.  I was so happy our hotel was only three blocks from Millennium - it felt like home!  Well, home in October.  We arrived back in time to redeem our Buy1 Get 1 Free coupon for nightcaps at the hotel bar and convinced the friendly bartender to take our picture.

Then we fell into a food-and-all-day-travel coma.

Waking bright and early the next morning, we headed down to the Mission District to check out the scene and take in what promised to be a fabulous lunch.

I'll admit, I may have been in the wrong part of the Mission district, but I cannot understand the allure.  It looked like straight up ghetto.  The only thing I can compare it to in Philadelphia is North Philly barrio/Kensington area... boarded up buildings, graffiti everywhere and not in the Philadelphia Mural Project kind of way.  It was not terribly charming.  Fortunately, all the creepy characters hanging out of dilapidated doorways were worth our lunch at Gracias Madre.

That's my Strawberry Margarita.  Apparently, tequila is not vegan (all Sister and I could come up with was the whole worm thing), so they make their margaritas with soju, a rice liquor akin to sake.  Sister felt a liquor closer to Japan than Mexico was not the best choice, but I liked my margarita just fine and isn't it pretty?

This, right here ^ is a plate of the most delicious Mexican food I have ever eaten in my whole life.  Seriously.  It was amazing.  I ordered Platillo de Legumbres which was just brown rice and black beans, accompanied by two side dishes of your choice.  My choices were platanos (plantains) and seasonal greens (as luck would have it, bright, beautiful, green kale was in season!) sauteed in garlic and olive oil.  If I walked out on to Mission Street after lunch and got hit by a car, I would have died a happy woman.  Sister and I were obsessed with the black beans.

Sister got Nopales, which is pickled cactus with cashew "cheese" over top, served with brown rice and black beans.  There was also a plate of warm, soft corn tortillas for us to share.  They had a texture unlike any I'd had before, probably because they were freshly made.  They didn't taste like much, though, and really didn't add much to the meal.  They did help scrape up any last trace of the black beans, though.

After lunch, we wandered around the Mission area a bit longer, then figured out a bus route that would take us to The Presidio to see the Golden Gate Bridge.  It was a heck of a ride - very crowded and then we hit traffic.  Just as I was about to go catatonic from all the people hanging over us (very glad we had seats), the bus stopped and let us all out.  Once we had a moment to breathe, we could appreciate the beauty of the bridge.

I'll be honest - I'm not a huge fan of tourist behavior.  I still remember going to Niagara Falls as a child - the first sight of the Falls is really quite exciting, but it wears off pretty quickly.  I think it was our third trip to the Falls when I said to my father, "Yup, it's still water."

Nevertheless, the only thing my sister wanted to do, out of the full itinerary I provided to her of what I wanted to do and where I wanted to go, was to see the Golden Gate Bridge.  So we hopped on the bus and put our hair into hasty ponytails while pulling our hoods tight around our faces to see a method for cars to cross a chasm.

I'll tell you what - it is magical.  I was awed.  The Bridge itself really wasn't all that exciting - I expected it to be bigger than it was.  However, the sight of the fog rolling in over the mountains was astonishing.  The only thing I've ever seen that was anything like that was when I watched the clouds sink into Lake Tahoe from the top of a 10,000 mountain I decided to climb at sunrise (don't think I'm too cool - we drove most of the way).

After enjoying the view from many angles and elevations, we walked along the bay to the Warming Hut, which conveniently had nice warm coffee (it couldn't have possibly been higher than the upper 50s at the shoreline) and a variety of novelties to poke at while our fingers and noses warmed up.  Coffee in hand, we plodded down the beach to our next goal: The Palace of Fine Arts.

Once again, quite magnificent.  And, with its usual great timing, my camera battery died while we were there.  Once we'd taken in the sights, we headed out to meet a returning bus.  This involved a serious leg workout as we walked up the steepest hill in paved existence.  I don't know how people live on those streets, but they are certainly fortunate it doesn't freeze there, because even an eighth inch of ice would trap them inside their homes.

We returned to the hotel and let my camera battery charge while Sister took a shower and I refreshed my makeup and debated whether to brush my knotty hair or go with the whole windswept look.  Eventually, I opted for the windswept look, but that only lasted until after dinner.

We met up with a friend of Sister's at Saha, an arabic fusion joint in the Carlton Hotel.  We had no idea what we were in for, just that it came recommended by a reader and the menu looked fun online.  We walked over and upon entering the restaurant, realized we seriously underestimated its popularity, a notion that was reinforced when a worried-looking hostess asked if we had reservations.  We didn't.

This actually ended up working in our favor.  She had two reservations for 2 tops, so when a third table with 4 seats became available, we got to sit in a luxurious little corner, complete with a fuchsia and tangerine curtain creating the illusion of our own little room.

Sister was quite pleased with our little corner "sofa" with a virtual harem of beautiful pillows and made herself at home quickly.  Once her friend arrived, we ordered a bottle of Malbec and our entrees.  The server, who was very attentive and friendly enough to make my sister decide he had a crush on me, brought us a basket of squishy Moroccan focaccia-type bread with a za'atar and olive oil dipping dish.  We housed that bread and he brought us a second basket so we could finish the dipping sauce.

Sister's Friend ordered Saha's Ravioli, which were stuffed with mushrooms served in a mango cream sauce, sprinkled with mint and red pepper.

Sister, always the adventurer, selected the night's Special, which was a round of eggplant, topped with tofu, topped with a ragout of sauteed veggies, served on a light saffron sauce with English peas.  She loved it and I quite enjoyed the bite I took.

I actually had a lot of trouble choosing because there were so many tasty options.  In the end, I fell in love with Spinach and Tofu served with chickpeas, noodles and a tomato vinaigrette, with harissa on the side.  I dipped the very edge of the tine of my fork in the harissa so I could test its heat....and nearly burnt my head off before I could chase it with a healthy gulp of wine while asking myself how on earth I cook with that stuff.  I can only imagine they have a more potent, home-made mixture than what I use.  My meal was absolutely delightful, but I couldn't finish due to the extraordinary amount of bread I ate before dinner.

Unfortunately, that also meant there was no room for dessert.  That is a complete and utter shame.  I found something I really wanted to order.

Slap Ya Mama???  Really?  I mean, seriously?  Creme Brulee, Paradisio, Gelato or Sorbet?  No, I want a Slap Ya Mama.  Can you really order that with a straight face?  I'm so sad I didn't get to try.  There's even a vegan version available!

Instead of dessert, we finished our wine and headed out to a speakeasy.  I'm assuming this is the West Coast reaction to the recent East Coast trend of drinking all the olde tyme cocktails.  As far as I know, we have only one "speakeasy" in Philadelphia, but I saw at least half a dozen in San Francisco.  The one we went to was Bourbon and Branch.  The doorman wore a fedora with a feather and a pin-striped suit with shiny black shoes.  My sister was very excited to give him the secret password along with her ID (I was just excited to be carded).

According to the House Rules, I wasn't allowed to order a Cosmo, so I reviewed my mental list of prohibition era cocktails (I studied before we went - I am OverPrepared Woman) and thought I was pretty hot stuff when I ordered a Stinger.  I was promptly mortified when the bartender said he couldn't make it because they didn't have creme de menthe.  So, he crafted something for me that involved brandy, bitters, vermouth, lime juice, and was topped off with orange peel.  It was strong and pungent and served in a martini glass - I was pretty sure this was how the Roaring 20s felt and I have often felt I should have lived in that time, so I was happy.

Another House Rule was that I wasn't allowed to take pictures, so you don't get to see my pretty cocktail, but it was probably too dark anyway.  I loved the ambiance.  I also loved the "hidden door" that masqueraded as a bookshelf.  You had to be super-special to get in there and we didn't have that password, so when we finished our drinks, we headed out for some karaoke.

As you can see, after being a bit crowded in the speakeasy, my hair found its way into a messy bun (though it never occurred to me to remove my scarf.  The karaoke joint, Pandora, is apparently one of the premier karaoke bars in the city - they had private rooms with bottle service, but since it was just the three of us, we stayed in the main bar area and got drinks from the bar.

By now, the liquid courage was flowing freely (helping with a bottle of wine, topped off by a nearly pure alcohol cocktail will do that), so a sip or two of my new drink merely wet my throat for a rousing rendition of "The Promise" by When In Rome, followed by "Walking in Memphis" by Marc Cohn, to the DJ's delight.  The bar closed and we walked back to the hotel, at which point my sister let me know that we had just been in the red light district of San Francisco, known as Tenderloin.  I have no idea how it got that name, but I think its hilarious that we ended two days of delightful vegan food by visiting a part of the city known as Tenderloin.

I've been typing for nearly two hours.  I think we're going to have to split this into two parts - stay tuned for our Oakland/Berkeley adventures!

sometimes the sequel is better

While it is rarely true in motion pictures, I find that a dish is usually better the second or third time I make it.  I can only imagine that this is because the first time, I stay strictly close to the written recipe, and on future adventures, I break free of the tyranny of the recipe, allowing myself to tweak a little here and there.

Tonight, I reprised Pasta Shells with Black-Eyed Peas from The Vegetarian Times Complete Cookbook.  We liked it just fine the first time around, which is why I made it again, but since I looked back over my original post, I remembered to give it a little more flavor this time around.  Mission accomplished: a generous sprinkling of my beloved sea salt blend took this from a decent dinner to a fantastic meal.

The shells were a little bigger than I thought they'd be, once they were all cooked up.  I knew they weren't as small as the ones I usually get, but these are really big - as in, almost clever-hors-d'ouevres-stuff-them big.  It was actually kind of fun trying to see how much "filling" I could force into each shell before stuffing it in my mouth.

I'm an adult.  I can play with my food if I want to.

extreeeeeeme close-up!

Anyway, in about 24 hours, I'll be trying to force myself to go to sleep so I can get up at some horrid time like 4am (which is when I should be going to sleep, not waking up).  Fortunately, the happy ending is that after I sleep through a four hour plane ride and groggily locate the bathroom and Starbucks at the Salt Lake City airport, I will find myself in San Francisco, ready for a much-needed, incredibly deserved [albeit short] vacation.

I've been researching cocktails on Esquire.com so I know some fun things to order (I am Over-Prepared Woman - that's my superhero name), and I've scoped out a natural, non-toxic nail salon where I hope to get a manicure to pass the time between my flight's arrival and my sister's.  This time tomorrow I'll be packing and panicking and hopefully, remembering to check-in online.  I'll be packing my fun little owl book as well as my camera (and the battery charger!), but I have absolutely no idea if I'll get a chance to post while I'm out there.

That being said, it's time to reveal what's behind Secret Door #1.

I've decided to create a new blog.  Don't worry - I'm not abandoning this one!  Angst Loves Spinach will continue to be my primary blogging home, but Pretty Woman in an Ugly World is going to be a kind of supplement, so to speak.

I realized that although this was meant to be a "look ma, I'm learning to cook vegan!" blog, there are a lot of times I've written up reviews of restaurants or other food-oriented establishments.  Customer service is very important to me and I feel like it is a dying art.  In an effort to put the spotlight on those businesses that continue to offer World Class Customer Service, as well as expose those who don't quite know how to spell it, I've created this new blog.

The spark behind it was two-fold.  If you want to wander over there, you'll find the "story" laid out amidst the tabs (which I know are still woefully lacking from this blog, and I hope to correct that soon!), but let me give you a brief synopsis:

As I mentioned in the last post, 13 of Mister's and my friends joined us for an evening of fun at North Bowl, based on our recommendation because we so enjoyed the first time we visited.  Our experience this time around was so far from the first experience as to be unrecognizable.  Our waitress was quite possibly the worst waitress I've ever had.  It was embarrassing, since it was my suggestion and most of our friends were from out of town.  I sent off a long, detailed, and "passionate" email to the management that very night, letting them know how unacceptable our experience was.

Management's response was swift and favorable - they reviewed their video tapes, identified the "culprit" and will address this occurrence with her.  Additionally, at the time of my choosing, Mister and I and two friends have been invited back to the bowling alley for a round of bowling and drinks on the house.

At my work, we try to keep an evaluation of World Class Customer Service by asking ourselves at the end of a customer interaction, "How does the client feel about me?  How the customer feel about our company?"  So, how do I feel about North Bowl?

I'm thrilled with them.

Seriously!  Within 12 hours of me writing that email, the management took the appropriate steps to ensure my future satisfaction with their establishment.  That kind of customer service is so out of fashion these days that it reminded me of something I had pondered long ago.

In the beginning of the movie, "Pretty Woman," Julia Roberts's character, Vivian (perfect '80s name) finds herself rudely turned away from a boutique on Rodeo Drive.  She is devastated because all she wanted to do was buy a dress so she would look appropriate for her dinner date.  I'm sure at least most of my readers are well enough acquainted with the scene that I don't have to rehash it, but here is what has stuck with me for years now: when she returns to the hotel and gets "in trouble" with Barnard, the hotel manager, she tells him her sob story (while losing her composure) and he, despite his notions about her and her occupation, has an irrepressible desire to make it right.  He picks up the phone, calls a fancy department store and calls in a favor, resulting in Vivian getting the perfect dress and everyone is happy.

The reason this stuck with me is because it is my opinion that a person should not have to pay hundreds or thousands of dollars per night at a high-end hotel to be treated with respect and dignity.  The a$$-kissing is nice and I suppose that's something for money to buy, but it just feels like more and more often, we accept substandard service simply because there is no outstanding service available (or affordable).  I had an entrepreneurial moment while watching the moving about 5 years ago that I would like to get into hospitality just so that I could start my own hospitality business modeled after the service demonstrated at the Beverly Wilshire, but somewhere "normal" people could go.  Everyone deserves a little sucking up once in a while, don't you think?  (that is, by the way, absolutely a goal I have for this vacation - we're staying in two boutique hotels and I expect to be treated like a female version of Edward Lewis.)

So, in an effort to shift our service paradigm, especially in a time when money is far more scarce, so far more valuable, I want to highlight businesses that either offer incredible service consistently or companies, like North Bowl, who are willing to do whatever it takes to regain your business after someone messes up.  Occasionally, I may also write a scathing review of a business that exhibits unapologetically horrendous service, obviously hoping to influence my readers to take their hard-earned dollars elsewhere.

So, if you get bored in my absence, please, feel free to poke around on Pretty Woman in an Ugly World and let me know what you think!

Vedge is on the Horizons

Please pardon me if I giggle to myself throughout the post - I couldn't resist the urge to have such a punny title.  Better to laugh at my ridiculousness, though, than to cry over the closing of Horizons, right?

Yes, Horizons is now defunct.   The doors are shut and will not reopen until the building bears a new name (because this area needs another pizza place....like I need a hole in my head), so I will share the details of our "last supper" (toot, toot!  here comes the Hell Train again!  First stop - Blasphemy) before turning my eyes forward to anticipate the opening of the new restaurant, Vedge.

Saturday night was temperate - not too hot, but not remotely cool, and the humidity was surprisingly held at bay.  We prettied ourselves up a little (I felt the occasion warranted sultry red lips and relatively minimal black-shadowed eyes) then headed to Horizons for the last time.  To my surprise, the entire outdoor seating area was unoccupied, so we elected to start the trend - indeed, before we had our aperitifs, we had guests at two other tables nearby.

To be honest, I spent part of Friday and most of Saturday daydreaming about the menu at Horizons, from pre-dinner cocktails and appetizers to the last sip of espresso and bite of a sinful chocolate dessert.  By the time we started our jog over there (Mister's whole family is made up of speed-walkers, whereas I have short legs and sometimes have to run to keep up), I had plotted out my entire gastronomical experience.  I started with the Nightboat to Recife, which I already raved about here, which was a nice accompaniment to my Salt-Roasted Golden Beets.

There is a very sweet-n-sunny difference between your standard roasted red beets and these lighter-tasting siblings.  The sweetness of the beets was appropriately matched with dense, barely-ripe and definitely chilled chunks of avocado, concealing a "surprise" center of marinated tofu.  I even appreciated the charming crunch of the red onions diced within, despite my standard hatred for the allium.

Mister had a delightful looking mediterranean-influenced chopped salad that I forgot to take a picture of until he had already marred its beauty by digging in. [edit: you can see Kelly's great picture of it here]  We both struggled with the desire to start out meal with the BBQ Seitan, because we knew it was unlikely to be featured at Vedge this fall, but we agreed that there was no need for that much seitan in our meal.  How much, you say?

Well, like I mentioned when I recapped our previous dinner at Horizons, there were certain "old favorites" I wanted to taste once more before they were gone.  I have been so busy enjoying the varied flavors and textures of some of the more esoteric entrees on the menu, it's probably been over two years since I last ordered the Grilled Seitan entree.  Mister gets it every time we go there and has already expressed his concern that it might not be available at Vedge, but I've already secured his promise to go when it opens regardless of the presence or absence of seitan on the menu.

While it was certainly as delightful as I remembered it, I'm not killing myself over neglecting it for half the time the restaurant was open.  One of the reasons I was able to allow myself to branch out, so to speak, was the knowledge that Whole Foods and Essene both carry the same brand of seitan that Horizons used.  Somewhere in the last two years, I forgot what made their seitan special isn't the maker, but rather then preparation and presentation.  Mister and I agreed that what really takes Horizons' seitan over the culinary edge is that they grill it to melt-in-your-mouth perfection, meanwhile leaving the little crispy bits on the edges for texture.  Now that Horizons has closed its doors and there is not much chance the Grilled Seitan entree will be on the menu (at least initially) at Vedge, I may need to finally invest in a grill pan for the stovetop.

No meal would have been complete without the amazing Truffle Fries with white BBQ sauce.  I didn't take a picture because I always forget to take a picture.  I don't know - there's something about its side dish status that makes me think, "why would I take a picture of a little tin bread pan with wedge fries in it?"  Regardless, they were every bit as delicious as they've always been and if Vedge doesn't think they're worthy of a place on the menu, it looks like we'll also be investing in some truffle oil of our very own.

Since I'd spent the day fantasizing about dessert, I did not require Mister's reminder to get an espresso to accompany my exquisitely rich (yet not too much so) Chocolate Tart.  No matter how amazing the other desserts are, knowing that Kate Jacoby will be focusing more on fruit-centered desserts at Vedge, I knew I had to get the Tart while I could.  I have very little doubt she will continue to serve her amazing cheesecake, especially since it lends itself so well to fruit accompaniments, but I thought the rich, chocolatey nature of this dessert put it on the endangered list, so it was the last bit of Horizons to pass my lips.

Or not.  As we were finishing up dessert, I heard my name exclaimed from behind me.  Turning, I saw Kelly, looking perfectly pixie-like, especially beside her very tall, incredibly friendly husband.  A round of introductions were had on behalf of the two Misters and then Kelly and Hubby excused themselves to take a short walk before returning for the Happy Hour AfterParty held in the upstairs bar.

As previous pictures of our dinner at Horizons have shown, the dining area inside is considerably darker than the outdoor tables.  Considering it was a fine dining restaurant, this makes sense, and it's nearly surprising that they even had an outdoor seating area as casual as the one on their sidewalk.  There were tasty hors d'oeuvres being butlered by Kate Jacoby herself, as well as some other members of staff.  I was still quite full from dinner, but could not refuse the opportunity to try a seitan-kimchee kind of roll-up...which promptly bit my face off and I had to wait for the bartender to make me a delightful daiquiri unlike any I'd had before in order to take another bite.

I had a great time getting to know Kelly and her husband a little better and after closing the bar (literally, unfortunately), we all walked out together to see the saddest sight I've seen in a while.

While I am truly excited about Vedge and very much anticipating its opening day/night, I am very sad to see Horizons go.  I guess I'll just have to hone my seitan-slinging skills and up my culinary creativity (harbinger of things to come...).