Thrifting

Ever since I was a little punk girl I've loved thrifting.  At the time I was into granny cardigans, men's jeans, and vintage dresses...and, nothing's changed.  I love that I can get 4 or 5 things for $20.  You already know how the piece will stand up to wear and washing because, it's been worn and washed already (ideally).  It's good for the environment, if you care about those kind of things.  And, you'll find stuff that probably no one else has.  I find it difficult to resist the siren song of a thrift store if I drive by one...and I'm blessed to have friends who have the same peculiar tastes and interests that I do.

I'm wearing such a pretty dress today! that I got to cheer myself up after some soul-draining work event at a Goodwill on 97th Avenue and 8th Street SW.  I go to this store all the time, and it's the first time I've bought anything there.  That's another great thing about thrifting: it's all about luck.  You can have great success at a certain store one day, and never find anything good there again.  It's pretty addictive.  Of course, sometimes a fight breaks out (true story) and you decide you're better off just dumping what you've picked up and leaving before the cops come.

La Sandwicherie

Or as I like to say it, La Sangwicherie.  Ok, ok, private joke.

It's a great day when I'm focused enough to listen to my body, hear what it's craving for, and then can give it exactly what it wants.  I wanted a cold sub on my last day off, and, of course, the best cold subs are from La Sandwicherie in South Beach.  Just like how the special sauce at Sarussi "makes" their sandwiches, the french vinaigrette they use at La Sandwicherie makes their sandwiches the ne plus ultra. Careful, guys.  Only God can be perfect...you'd better put some cornichons on mine to not incur any divine wrath on your heads.

It's only a outdoor counter, and a smallish one at that.  There is no parking, and, very likely, no seats available. There is a water misting fan that may or may not be on when you are there.  Still...the food is the perfect antidote to a hot, sun-baked day at the beach.  Watching those sandwiches being made is mesmerizing (I envision Mr. Sandwich-maker-guy with a salad shooter in his hip holster).  My friend is one of those people who live on steamed broccoli and brown rice (and occasionally spends a day just absorbing moisture from the air, like an air plant), and I just assumed we'd be taking half his sandwich (and half of mine, cursed femininity) home...damn if he didn't eat the whole thing, so that gave me free rein to stuff myself. 

Wanee 2010 & Steak 'n Shake & Sushi Chef

Bad vibes at Wanee 2010, man.  It was like living in Bartertown with too much beer, too few women...and to add insult to injury, Wendy's hammock got stolen.  Some other victim posted a sign: Stealing a hammock is bad karma.  Indeed.  Where's the love???  At the very least, I got a new Facebook profile picture out of it.

After we left Wanee I was dying for a burger.  With onions.  We went to Steak 'n Shake because you can get a burger at 10am there.  Seriously, breakfast menu?  Screw off, I'm an AMERICAN, and AMERICANS sometimes want a burger before 11am, and damn it all, as an AMERICAN I demand all my needs, wants and desires to be fulfilled instantly.  So, since God is an AMERICAN, he created Steak 'n Shake.  It's no In 'n Out but, since we all can't live in that glorious paradise on earth called the West Coast, it will have to do.  It's not death row food, but it is release from captivity food.  I may or may not be speaking from personal experience.  I may or may not have kissed the asphalt of the parking lot at the Gainesville Steak 'n Shake in a past life. 

That menu is crazy!  Chili on spaghetti.  Chili on everything.  And, Kool Aid milkshakes!  I forgive Evil G's heresy of ordering that mutt of a burger, with guacamole on it, because she likes weird things to eat.  I mean, she ate tuna stuffed olives at Wanee.  I still love 'er.  Wendy and I went the more traditional role of double burgers with cheese and, just everything, put everything you got, on it.  Then, Wendy topped it off with boiled peanuts from the nearby fruit stand.  She fills me with patriotic pride.

My neighborhood is great for tapas but is lacking in sushi.  Sure, I took the proximity to work and my son's school into consideration when I moved, but obviously I forgot to think of this key element.  The closest place is Sushi Chef, a kind of run down, unspectacular looking place in a strip mall on Coral Way.  I finally stopped in there for a menu and man, that is some sexy reading.  The sake selection is pretty extensive (if you like that kind of thing) and I can't figure out what half of the stuff on the menu even is.  It's a mystery slash adventure!  Luckily the in-restaurant menu has lots of pretty pictures that at least give you an idea of what you're getting yourself into.

I had a spicy tuna roll that, though it wasn't amazing, it certainly was interesting.  A ton of spicy mayo.  Clever little sushi chef.  You madman, you.  Though I didn't love it, and won't order it again, I certainly liked your coy take on my old standby and respect your inventiveness.  The spicy salmon tartar was another story.  I wish I could chew long and take smaller bites.  Yes, that dish and I will meet again, no one night stand there.

Sarussi Cafeteria and Captain Jim's Seafood

Ok, so you've gone and done it, and now so-and-so is lying on a cold slab and you're awaiting execution.  What's on your mind?  Forgiveness?  The afterlife?  No, of course not.   You're thinking about what delicious aftertaste you want lingering in your mouth as they flip the switch and you pass into the, uh, afterlife.  I do hope they serve beer in hell, but I'm sure the menu is rather limited.  Well, I am very indecisive so I've planned this out carefully in case I ever find myself in this situation.

One of my death row meal items is a frita from Rey de la Fritas, and the other is an original sandwich from Sarussi Cafeteria.  Apparently there are other delicious things on the menu, such as the churrasco sandwich, but I wouldn't know...I love the original too much to be led astray.  I went with a bunch of lucky, lucky coworkers after some meeting and we had lunch at the Sarussi on 107th Avenue and 8th Street Southwest.  Oh Em Gee, the smell alone when we walked in made my stomach drop in lustful anticipation.  We all had either the churrasco or the original, on separate checks which the waitress handled like a pro.  I mean, it improves her overall tip, doncha think?  Ok, stop thinking, start eating.

Well, it was fricking awesome, what do you think?  I harassed my two Sarussi-virgin coworkers repeatedly for their opinion, and they assured me it was the best thing ever and that the day they befriended me was the best day ever.  Of course.  The perfect alchemy of pig product, special mystery sauce, toasted, lightly greased bread, cheese, and pickles.  I don't have many fond childhood memories, but I do remember going to the beach during the summer (it felt like we would go everyday but I'm sure I'm remembering that incorrectly).  My family would pick up a few sandwiches from Sarussi, along with a bunch of Chek soda (back then they sold them singly and it was sooo exciting to pick my flavor lol) and we would eat lunch on the beach after working up one of those ferocious, beach-induced hungers.  The taste of those sandwiches was somehow enhanced by the crunch of the sand that would work its way in.

I went to Captain Jim's Seafood to indulge in the perfect sensual experience of eating a plate of raw oysters.  I was so looking forward to it and so hyping it up that by the time we got there...well, it's a mistake to look forward to anything so much.  Don't get me wrong, everything was still the same and the service was fine and the oysters were great but somehow food tastes better when you are not expecting it to blow you away.  I had the shrimp cocktail as well, which seemed a bit tough.  My friend had the fried conch sandwich and hush puppies, which were more than respectable, even reheated the next day.  But the experience fell flat, don't know why.  I really don't care for breaded, deep-fried food, that's for certain.  Oh, well, we'll always have sushi.  Even the cheap ass sushi in a place like Iron Sushi on Miami Beach is just fine, thanks.

Taco Bell, Sushi-Thai on the Beach and Titanic

Ah...the fourth meal.  Beloved savior of those in the throes of late night munchies.  The concept has been around forever, but Taco Bell was genius enough to recognize their position in the food chain and capitalize on it.  You got to love Mexicans and their contributions to American decadence and overindulgence:  Taco Bell.  Tequila.  Corona.  Tijuana.  And their ingenuity!  The things they came up with, with just a handful of ingredients.  I went to one after a night at Harvey's, realizing (well, Allegra realized for me) that I didn't have time for a proper meal.  I rather belligerently stated, repeatedly (may have been the Yuengling talking) that I was hungry...so I got five bucks worth of Taco Hell, which is quite a LOT of food...and then put it away for dinner the next day after just a couple of bites.

Went to Sushi-Thai on the Beach on the Hollywood boardwalk.  The place is shabby and run down but it has the ubiquitous deferential Thai (?) staff that I so adore, and one of those horribly extensive menus that is the bane of my existence.  Those menus are why I often look at the restaurant's website in advance and choose what I want, so I don't feel like I'm driving my dinner companions or waiter mad with my indecisiveness.  I already knew, for instance, that I was getting Tuna Rock, which is chopped raw tuna with tempura flakes, avocado, cucumber, sesame oil, masago, scallion, and spicy mayo.  These are a few of my favorite things...I get this kind of thing wherever it's offered, in its various forms and permutations.  I think it's pretty much my favorite dish.  We also got one of those crazy sushi boats for two.  So much sushi we had leftovers, if you can believe that.  I smiled, frequently, during that meal.  It's my barometer for how tasty things are and how happy my tummy is.

Last night a large group of us gathered at Titanic Brewery and Restaurant to check out Wendy's friends' band.  Formerly, Falaz, currently-???  The bar is right by the University of Miami campus but it lacks that sketchy college bar feel like you get in real college towns.  It has pretentions that don't fall quite short; it lacks imagination in decor and menu but it's certainly not offensive in any way.  I just got one beer (I know, I know), their Triple Screw Light Ale, and their ceviche.  The beer is ok, I guess...I'm not a connoisseur, but at least it's cheap at $4 at mug.  It was a mistake to order a dish I like as much as ceviche in a place like that; it wasn't terrible but it was certainly kind of pathetic.  I'm pretty certain all the food at that place is like that.  Food intuition.  A place like is only as good as the company you're keeping, and luckily I was in some of the best...had to cut the night short to get up early for work today, though.  Didn't even get to hear the band!  :(