Choices Vegan Cafe

South American women are like harem women-highly ornamental, they spend enormous time on their personal appearance and rarely leave their homes. When they do venture forth, it's with flawless makeup, cleavage baring outfits and high heels-even if it's to drop off the kids at school. Of course, if it's the only time they venture forth from home, they want to look their best, despite that looking like you're going out on a hot date at 8am is hardly maternal. Despite this obsession with appearance, Miami has among the most unhealthy people in the US. Like Fernando says, it's more important to look good than to feel good, pretty much the Miami mantra.  There are very few vegan and vegetarian restaurants in Miami, so I feel it's VERY important to support those that do exist.  Like Choices Vegan Cafe.

The meal was just great-even GS thought so, and he's someone that normally just exists on occasional mists of water and steamed broccoli.  A meal like that brings out my fantasy of saving a small foreign woman from the international sex trade and bringing her to live with me. Together we'd share a life, shunning men, and she'd walk on my back with her tiny feet and cook me delicious meals. I wish I could bring the staff of Choices home with me to cook ummy vegan foods, or else I can camp out in the kitchen and take all my meals there. The sweet potato fries were the best I've had-I don't even like sweet potatoes-but now I realize I was cooking them all wrong. It's in the preparation, darling. The lovely chef at Choices wouldn't tell me her sweet potato secret, which I fully respect-they were crispy and light-I'd call them fluffy. They melted in your mouth.  I had a Mexican wrap and GS had the portabella sandwich-both were great but I could tell GS really dug my wrap.  The sweet plantain was a nice foil for the spicy vegan "chorizo".  I took home a piece of Banana Walnut cake that was delicious-I'd love to try her coconut or banana cake.  You see, now I'm making demands!

Really, please eat here.  The good is great and you'll be a doing a good thing, not just for yourself but by supporting small, local businesses.

Hy Vong Vietnamese Cuisine

Never let me choose anything.  Not a movie, not a restaurant-not anything.  I will always make a poor choice.  Whatever I order at a restaurant will never be as good as what my companion ordered.  I'm sure I've said this before.  I know this, but it seems I need the lesson driven home repeatedly.

So, GS and I decide to go out for dinner, and he suggests Thai.  I can't think of a nearby Thai place, but I do remember a Vietnamese restaurant that I've been wanting to go to for a while, Hy Vong.  I last ate there about 15 years ago and had a wonderful meal, and I had no reason to think it would be any different this time.

How can I describe it?  GS said it was "a Hispanic version of Monty Python that's set within a Vietnamese restaurant or an intergalactic portal to the fifth dimension".  Either way it was a strange and surreal meal, yet, at least, entertaining as hell.

We drove by the restaurant twice, it was so hard to find.   We were first seated at the worst table in the place- a tiny table right by the kitchen so crammed against the wall that only two sides were free for chairs.  Well, it was busy when we first came in so I can accept that.  The waiter was so nice that he moved us as soon as there was another free table.  They had a nice beer selection and a manageable menu: I ordered the duck with black currant sauce and GS had the curried chicken with mushrooms.  My salad was all right, GS's soup was better-a chicken soup with spinach, with a curiously strong tasting broth-almost beefy.

The runner brought a plate of spring rolls to our table and said, "they were from Kathy".  I replied I don't know Kathy, I'm not Kathy, and that we didn't order that, but he insisted we take them.  Compliments of the chef?  Are we THAT cute of a couple?  Or were they made for someone else erroneously?  Whatever, I won't say no to free food.

The food came and it was "meh" at best-the curry was watery and bland, and my duck was dry and tough.  The runner, who had a charming but unintelligible accent, kept trying to take away my plate.  The food was in front of me, I had the fork in my hand, I was merely breathing between bites, and he asked me if I was done.  He wasn't trying to hurry me; the restaurant was half full by then and it was only like 8:30pm.  I think he was just bored.  Finally I told him to take it away since he seemed so eager to and I wasn't really into it, and he seemed inordinately hurt that I didn't want to take the leftovers.  After he asked me three times about it I explained that we were going somewhere else after and I was worried they would spoil-only THEN was he satisfied enough to take the damn duck away.

The couple behind us asked what was in the beet salad.  The two waiters were trying to even understand what "beets" were, and once they finally understood, they had to confer on what was in the salad and how to translate the ingredients into English.  "Beets in orange sauce" is what they came up with, after a good seven minutes of discussion where the word "beet" came up dozens of time.  I honestly wanted to intercede since I have customer service in my genetic makeup but GS stopped me.  I later heard them joking in the kitchen (which we were close to) about beets but I couldn't even figure out the joke-I think they thought the word just sounded funny.

I was still hungry so we ordered dessert, which I rarely do since I'm a cheapskate.  I ordered key lime cake.  How can you go wrong?  It should have been listed as arroz con mango instead.  Picture this: key lime bundt cake, with a rum sauce, whipped cream, walnuts, and cookies & cream ice cream.  WTF?  Were they cleaning out their fridge?  Were they stoned when they put it together?  It was purely awful.  I HATE rum sauce, I learned.

"Come thirsty", joked GS.  The bored runner kept refilling our water and must have done so about 8 times.  I swear he would refill it everytime I took a sip.  I wanted GS to scream at him, "I don't want anymore f***ing water" but he said that would be rude.  Funny, but rude.  All right, ruin my fun lol

I can't in good conscience recommend the place.  I would like other people to have such potentially hilarious dining experiences but I won't trick anyone into it.  I don't know.  It may have been an off night, but I can't have too much faith in a Vietnamese restaurant that doesn't even have Asian people working in it.  Just saying.

Rapids Water Park

So the kidlet turned eight this past week and to avoid the planning and expense of a birthday party I offered to take him to Rapids Water Park.  It's the least I could do.  I knew as the day got closer I would regret my decision, because I am chronically lazy and hate sun, but once you promise something to your kid, there is no getting out of it.  Unless, of course, you are comfortable being branded as the worst parent in the WORLD who doesn't KEEP THEIR PROMISES.  If I bowed out of this excursion, for sure my son would grow up to be a sociopath and get life in prison for a series of heinous crimes.

We left at a reasonable hour but the wait in West Palm Beach stretched out as we waited for successive generations of the family to show up (four in total!).  My mom and her sisters, who I refer to in my own head as the Fates, all had to go...to just wait in the shade and hold all our stuff for three hours.  Because there is nothing that feels as good to a grandma as being a martyr for the sake of their ingrate children and precious grandchildren.

Well, thank God they did go because they paid.  Weekend admission is $38.95 plus tax.  Regardless of age.  Newborns?  $38.95.  Senior citizens?  $38.95.  That is BOGUS.  We did get a free pass to return within a month but still, this is incredibly overpriced.  The cheapest parking we saw is $10 and you are NOT allowed to bring in outside food and drink.  Eh.

Honestly, though, I had fun.  Despite the whining and waiting in line and walking on red-hot concrete in bare feet, I liked it.  I love water slides.  My second cousin and I left our kids in the kiddie area under the watchful gaze of the Fates and went on all the awesome adult rides we couldn't convince our yellow-bellied spawn to ride.  I did all the shaming techniques I could think of: look, that kid is smaller than you...look, a GIRL is riding it, AND she's smaller than you...but no dice.  Funny, because shaming like this always works on me.  My son is extremely cautious, though...at least I don't have to worry about him climbing onto the roof pretending to be Superman and breaking his arm.

I couldn't recommend this as a cost effective family activity but I'd keep on eye on their website for coupons or discounts-since Six Flags closed down so many years ago, this is the closest water park you'll get-can't wait to plan a weekend Orlando trip someday with Wet 'n Wild and Blizzard Beach.  That would be awesome!

Days Inn - Jonesville/Elkin, West Virginia

It's not the best Days Inn I've stayed in, but I expect that in a more competitive city like Orlando or Chicago they have to provide a better quality experience. This Days Inn is pretty much just a place to crash when you've hit your driving limit and just get off at the next exit and stop at the first hotel you see.


The room felt damp, probably due to the A/C being turned off. We ate at the pizza place right next door (don't recall the name) and I can recommend it - it was pretty good. We settled in and turned off the lights and...

for some inexplicable, magical reason, the entire ceiling was painted glow-in-the-dark night sky - stars, planets, etc. If I had been at all in an "altered state" I would have freaked out. As it was, I had to rave about it for way too long. What did it MEAN? It was so random, so out of place - that someone had chosen to paint the ceiling of this hotel room in the middle of nowhere in such an amazing way. What impulse had driven this person? What artistical, mystical, wistful impulse?

I asked the very professional young woman at the desk about it, and she replied in her clipped, lovely British accent that, yes, some of the rooms were painted that way. I got the vibe that she couldn't understand why someone had given in to such fanciful and impractical desires. I think it struck her as a bit silly, excessive, even embarrassing. Me, I found it to be purely wonderful. It was like a glimpse into someone's most secret self.

Some sort of breakfast was provided the next day but I couldn't touch it-not at all appetizing. And I'm not picky, AND I was trying to not appear high maintenance in front of the boyfriend. The milk was a day away from being buttermilk and everything else looked stale and sad.

I wouldn't chose to stay here again but it WAS inexpensive and we just needed a place to lay our heads...but again, that ceiling! Room 120!

Paquito's & P.F. Chang's & La Bonne Crepe & ...

I had dinner with the girls at Paquito's on Friday, sort of a mixed belated birthday party and county FAIL commiseration fest.  I got there early so I sat drinking my margarita alone, with each passing moment feeling less and less bleak.  I am not fond of mixed drinks but margaritas are really a little bit of all right - I really dislike sweet alcoholic drinks so I love salt rim and lime, yep.  The complimentary nachos and salsa are my favorite item at Paquito's and by the time my friends arrived I really didn't need to order...but I do like built in leftovers.  I had my leftover shredded beef burrito today for lunch and it was mighty fine.  Lucky me, the day before Groupon had a deal for this place which I redeemed - fastest use of a deal EVER.

Dealt with the horrendous parking situation at the Galleria Mall in Ft. Lauderdale on Saturday to eat dinner at P.F. Chang's.  Can you believe I've never eaten there before?  I'm not much of one for noisy, weekend dinner crowds and GS definitely isn't but after a few wash-rinse-repeat cycles of that age old refrain, "What do you want for dinner?" "I don't know, what do YOU want for dinner?" we didn't want to overthink it.  The place was packed and dinner was adequate - definitely tasty - but just not...interesting at all.  I had the Mongolian Beef and GS had the Broccoli Beef.  Both dishes tasted just fine (like I said, tasty) but really, all you taste is sodium.  Whereas with Thai, Vietnamese, and Japanese food you taste ingredients, freshness, complexity...the Chinese food I've had is simple and uninteresting.  I would guess authentic Chinese food is not glazed with heavy, thick, sweet and/or salty sauces but what do I know?

The next morning we had breakfast at La Bonne Crepe - a cute little place on Las Olas.  MUCH better choice.  It's a small restaurant with good servers and an open kitchen - I do like being able to see what the cook is up to ;)  I love me some carbs in the morning - and it's hard to mess up breakfast.  I had French Toast (perfect portion size) doused with maple syrup and a cappuccino that came in a fancy little glass with a rock sugar stirrer - oh yeah, God IS in the details.  We went to the beach for a while, then caught Captain America with a gift card I had...great movie!  I loved all the little fifties details like the flip clocks and the dials.  And the Vita-Ray!  We saw it in 3D and it seemed super muddy...when I took off my glasses the real movie had much nicer color.  They should do something about that :/

I really hadn't satisfied my weekend craving for cool, crispy vegetables yet so we got subs at Big C's Downtown Pizzeria and that was IT - just what I had wanted.  I take forever to eat so I finished up alone while GS went to Bob's News and Book Store down the block.  What a great place!  Whoever buys for the place is a reader, no doubt about it.  A really great book and magazine selection with a lot of range - from porn to erotica to foreign magazines to art books to classics to bestsellers and everything in between.  The place looks kind of skeevy but that's part of the charm - and I was never so sincerely wished "good luck" when I bought my lotto ticket.  The short shorts and wedges may have played a part in that.

Yes, if it seems that all we do is eat and play vacation when GS and I hang out (far too infrequently), you are correct.  It's the bright bubble of unreality in the crappiest of current conditions we are experiencing in the county.  It's hard to think that some - no, many - people I sincerely care about will have their lives disrupted  and that so many may/will be laid off.  Or demoted.  And that includes me, possibly.  I NEED these staycation type moments.   In a couple weeks we are going camping in West Virginia and then GS continues on to Colorado while I hunker down for a few months of school, work, exercising, child rearing, all in a climate of fear and uncertainty.  Alone.  But, really, can be there be enough emotional support for the times we are facing?  At least we county employees have each other...best of luck!

El Gran Inka

My sister and I met up with my sister's friend at El Gran Inka after biking with our brother in Key Biscayne - no, I did NOT try the bridge!  My sister and her friend are both in the field I am seriously considering venturing into so I tagged along as a networking opportunity.  How very adult of me.

This place is far as hell.  On the way there we drove by a Japanese restaurant I've heard great things about, Hiro's Yakko-San, so I made a mental note for my eventual trek back out to the sticks.  I had the fish ceviche, my sister had the Lomo Saltado, and her friend had the mixed seafood ceviche.  My ceviche was pretty good, but my sister's Lomo Saltado was aMAZing.  The beef was so tender and the sauce was perfect.  My sister's not used to eating at restaurants with me but I broke her in quickly - both I and her friend ending up tasting her dish.  Her friend's mixed seafood ceviche I was happy to avoid - I just can't stand looking at tentacles, sorry :/  She ordered maduros that were very sweet, considering how pale they were - I tend to like them cooked (ahem, burnt) until they carmelize.  We had some cocktails that had Chicha Morada in them that were very tasty and effective, and flan for dessert (they called it something else) that was pure silk in the mouth.  I was rude, I took the last bite.  Well, someone's got to!

The place was very fancy pants and romantic - pefect for a date, if that's your kind of thing.  We ate outside but that was a mistake.  The weather was fine but we attracted quite a bit of wildlife and by the end of the meal the flan plate was covered in ants.  Dunno.  I feel that in most Hispanic cooking the cheap places are just as good as the expensive places, but I can recommend El Gran Inka - if it happens to be in your neck of the woods.

I've already mentioned Moonchine (I think I've eaten there more than anywhere else - fantastic atmosphere!) but I'd like to note that if you check in there using social media you get a free shot - and it's good!  The Moonchine shot tastes strongly of ginger and danged if it doesn't seem like a health drink cause of it.  I'd order it even if it wasn't free, so there!  Also, went to Lemongrass again with GS last night.  Lemongrass, for my money, is the best, most consistent, Thai/Japanese restaurant I go to.  You never, ever have a meal there that is anything less than stellar.  Recommend so much!  Note to self: must look for Thai tea at an Asian mart!

Duffy's Tavern

Some places just hold a special place in your heart, and it's got nothing to do with the quality of the food and drink, the ambiance, the value for your dollar, or anything else you look for in a restaurant or bar.  It's something far more intangible.  It's made up of memories that are like a crazy quilt of impressions and half forgotten moments.  Duffy's Tavern is one of those places.

I went back there after many many moons away with GS, just as an excuse to use up a coupon deal and to score a cheap-ish lunch.  I like bar burgers more than any other burgers.  Usually.  But more on that later.

Duffy's was just as it always is, and always will be - a real BAR bar with a bunch of drunk regulars arguing about every subject under the sun - all the more vehemently for the less actual knowledge they had of said subject.  The same servers as always though, the service seemed a lot better.  The servers were very attentive and friendly but it may have been due to the hour and emptiness of the bar.  Or maybe they were always that nice and I just don't remember.  When we used to go to Duffy's I admit, we used to all get pretty damn wasted.

GS and I  sat at the table that my friends and I used to use when Duffy's was a weekly meet up for us.  I remember arguing my point in any given conversation and pounding my fist on the heavy wooden table for emphasis, often to the point of bruising my hand.  Awwww, just like a regular, *sniff*.

The Amberbock was delicious, sweet nectar - so much better from draft than from the bottle.  Man, we used to put gallons of that stuff away!  This day we just had a pint each, like respectable people.  The food was...meh.  I had sliders that were bland and sweet - sweet not being a flavor I look for in burgers.  Sweet onions, sweet bun - just not very flavorful at all.  GS's burger was not thoroughly cooked and unfortunately he got really freaking sick that night - at one point he was wondering if he was going to have to ask me to take him to the hospital.  I lucked out that the sliders were so thin that they were cooked well done all the way through, not the way I normally like my burgers but a good thing in this instance.  GS survived but was, let's say, clean as a whistle after all was said and done.  Hey, some people pay a lot of money for that very service ;)

They say you can never go back and in many ways this is a good thing.  I had some great times at Duffy's back in the day but it was also the beginning of the end for my marriage.  Getting trashed with your friends while your husband is at home is not a healthy sign for a relationship.  Driving home in that condition was not the brightest decision either.  Still, I remember things - smoking Black and Milds outside the bar, leaning against the brick facade (holding up the building as my former boss used to say), the jukebox that only seemed to play the best bar music EVER, and for the first time in over ten years being with friends rather than my ex.  It was good while it lasted and I'm glad we all survived it.

Sooo in August I'm going camping a couple weeks in West Virginia with GS, before he leaves for another one of his months long adventures.  Real camping, that is, with bears, foxes, bears, and ticks!  And as I mentioned in my previous post I'm actually "training" (I'm nooo athlete) to do a very short duathlon with my amazingly athletic brother in September.  I found this which looks amazing and I hope to convince my friends (and myself) to do it.  Just dooooo it!  And I'm back in school, too!  Wow.  Goals.  I haz thems.

The Big Cheese of Miami

Do you know that The Big Cheese used to be a funeral parlor?  It's true.  I know, because I confirmed with the staff after I heard the rumor, many years ago.  They also obliged with good natured jokes about how the pizza ovens used to be the crematoriums.  Cause that's how they roll.  The Big Cheese is the least pretentious place to eat that is NOT fast food.  The staff is easy going and casual.  A place you can feel comfy taking kids and where your portions will be so large it will supply leftovers for 2 or 3 more meals, easily.

My brother took me, my mom, and his family to The Big Cheese for lunch on Sunday, sort of a post birthday celebration on a budget.  I had the baked ziti with ricotta but I wasn't too crazy about their meat sauce-I should have stuck with my normal choice, spaghetti with pink sauce and shrimp.  I LOVE their pink sauce!  Oh, well.  I was a good girl and didn't stuff myself, because I'm in training.

That's right, as old as I am, I finally feel up to trying to do a race.  My brother is the most athetic guy EVA and he told me about an easy race that is a one mile run, 10 mile bike run, and three mile run.  It's held monthly by Mack Cycle (a bike store I quite recommend for having very friendly and helpful staff) and my brother is planning to do it with his son.  I would be so proud of myself if I did this!  I tried jogging and managed two miles-did feel very close to puking afterwards-but I have a few months to get into shape.  I need a lolcat for feline inspiration...

Pizza Rustica across from FIU (Main Campus)

Though it's unusual to have a meal at Pizza Rustica devoid of the special sazón an advanced state of ravenous inebriation brings (the kind that comes at 2am), the pizza doesn't need it.  It's awesome, even in broad daylight and completely sober.  I've heard that the location across from Sunset Place is not up to par, but the new location across from the FIU Main campus certainly is.

I had the Con 3 Funghi pizza for lunch while waiting for my turn in the queue at Happy Hour Nails.  It was everything I love about the pizza from the South Beach locations: Crispy crust, fresh and flavorable, good size, and a terrific selection of toppings to choose from.   It had big, fat cloves of roasted garlic as well as the shrooms...UM!  The young lady at the counter was natural, friendly and attentive - I liked her quite a bit.  She must be a model of patience to deal with the type of crowd I imagine wanders over from FIU. 

It was slow when I went - luckily - and I hardly had to wait at all.  There was one annoying customer that wanted his pizza "crispy" and not only had the girl put his pizza in the oven twice before he even tasted it, after sitting with it and taking one bite he sent it back again for further crisping.  I'd have burnt it black for him, but that's because I'm a bitch.  So I've been told.  I imagine a crowd of drunk college kids are less annoying that this guy who was quite old enough to know better.  He looked to me as if seeking my support for his peevish whining but he looked to the wrong person - no one who works with the public will sympathize with anyone but the counter girl.  I told her, "I would like to request that you heat my pizza as you would normally.  Thank you."

 I should also mention how pointless it is for the homeless to panhandle me; I've zero tolerance for the homeless - work has cured me of whatever I may have had originally.  I remember snapping at a homeless dude who panhandled me at Burger King on my lunch break - and he was one of my customers! - like I needed to open THAT can of worms and have them leeching off of me every time I take out my wallet.  They've already sucked my soul dry at work!  I gave at the office was never more true.  But I digress!

Anyway, this strip mall is culinary paradise as far as I'm concerned - Pizza Rustica AND El Rey de las Fritas???   Not to mention that Sarussi is only a couple blocks a way.  Absolute heaven.  Luckily it's not situated all that conveniently for me because with a diet like that, I'd be getting to heaven WAY faster.

Zen Village

I've had it in the back of my mind to visit Zen Village for a while, but I am a bit shy about doing these things alone.  I have to convince myself that I'm an adult who will never do anything interesting if I don't just, you know, do it.  This past Sunday I bravely set out for their 9am class, Free Basic Meditation for Community.

I had seen pictures of the place online but no photograph can do it justice.  The building is painted a strange green which is at least highly visible.  It has a paved patio surrounding it with a stupa on the property-really elegant and lovely.  But the inside, oh God, is perfect.  I think living in such a beautiful home (because it is a repurposed old Grove house) would make up for a multitude of things, even, for having to live in Miami.  Sky lights, wood paneling, numerous original windows and french doors (even the fasteners seem original), high ceilings, and a spiral staircase to the temple on the second floor.  And, of course, it's decorated with all those gorgeous tapestries and statues and smells like cedar-I honestly could not get over how wonderful this place looks.  Really, I stink at describing things, I just wish I could pile you all in my car and take you over there so you can see it yourself.

Patricia taught the morning meditation (this was my first meditation class ever) and she did a great job with me-because I was the only student there.  I must admit, I felt pretty darn lucky.  We sat for about twenty minutes and when my legs were completely numb and stiff she suggested we do a walking meditation around the stupa, then back to another seated meditation.  She patiently answered all my questions, was funny and warm and real, and was just really great to listen to.  I decided to come back to the noon Buddhist Sunday Service.

I'm so glad I went outside my comfort zone and checked this place out.  Of course, now I want to go to all their classes and move in but, of course, work intrudes on my spiritual growth :P  I'm looking forward to going back, soon and as often as possible.  Come with!

Chinois Chinois

I spied a new Chinese/Japanese restaurant, Chinois Chinois, the last time I got a pizza at Tutto Pizza.  Interesting...more sushi is always a good thing.  Then, by the happiest of coincidences (or maybe it was completely predictable), Voice Deal of the Day offered a coupon for it, which I promptly pounced on.  I went to eat here on the tail end of my last illness; I had a few good days where I at least felt hungry so I thought it was time to venture into real food once more.

The restaurant is lovely, with lots of dark wood and red accents.  There is outdoor seating, tastefully done; I can see this being a good spot to go on a date or for drinks with a small group of friends-even though it is right off of busy Coral Way.  GS and I ate outside because it was only very hot instead of damn hot-it would have been a good idea except I was scratching throughout the meal because I was a meal to a horde of hungry mosquitos.

We had a sushi boat to share.  It came with a portion of seaweed salad in a martini glass that was so pretty (I'm a sucker for good looks), a good selection of rolls (if someone would offer a sushi boat with no California roll I'd be all over that!), sushi and sashimi.  It was more than enough-I even ended up with leftovers though the idea of sushi leftovers frankly scares me a bit.  The waitress was very attentive-or perhaps telepathic-and I wasn't left waiting even a moment for anything.  Though, of course, the restaurant WAS empty.  And, we are old folks who eat dinner out on a Thursday at 6pm.

It's nice having this place so nearby, with plentiful, free parking.  It's much more attractive than Sushi Chef and easier to get to, less crowded, and cheaper than, Mr. Yum.  The restaurant doesn't have an online presence yet (I know, crazy, right???) so if you want take out you'd need to have a menu already or order at the restaurant.

Marhaba Mediterranean Cuisine

I'm crazy.  I think no one who knows me irl would argue with that assertion. For example: one year my birthday fell during a six month flirtation with vegetarianism. Where did I decide to have my birthday dinner with my friends? Shorty's. That's right, while my friends sucked on ribs I had corn and a baked potato.  And I love BBQ.

So Sunday, being Mother's Day, my darling, long suffering brother decide to take the mess of women he is burdened with out to lunch. To Marhaba Mediterranean Cuisine. Now, I suffer from a chronically bad stomach. I actually spent last Sunday in the ER because I had been throwing up all night, and it felt like the witches brew simmering in my tummy was going to explode. I had been coddling myself all week with chicken soup and crackers and still didn't feel right (though, it's been so long since I've felt right I might not recognize it at this point).  So, maybe Mediterranean food is not the wisest choice for someone with a tender stomach.  At least we didn't go to an Indian place.  I ordered grilled chicken breast with fries, the seemingly mildest thing on the menu and the only thing my kid will eat.  But I tasted everything.  It was all delicious, probably more so since it was the only flavorful thing I'd eaten in forever.
 
My sister-in-law's lamb was wonderful, as was my brother's beef dish, my mom's lentil soup, and all the appetizers they ordered.  Everything was tasty without being at all spicy.  I didn't care for the dessert and for a date juice I ordered-they both seemed faintly perfumed with violets.  It might have been the honey they used?  They have shot glasses of tea (shai, I believe) which were very nice, but the size of the glass was a cruel tease.  The reviews I read online faulted the service but I thought it was fine, though, the restaurant was pretty empty and we were a pretty big party.  The place is attractive and upscale-honestly more expensive than I'd willingly pay for, myself.  $19 for grilled chicken breast is pricey.  They have outdoor seating and apparently offer hookah, and the location (near Sunset Place) is a great place to hang out.  All in all it was a great meal, a nice change from the perpetual sushi (which mom wouldn't eat anyway) and...Happy Mother's Day!
 
I do have to say that I did get sick that night, but after crying a while and feeling sorry for myself (my son graciously bestowed kisses-because of course children's kisses have miraculous healing properties) I laid in bed and pressed the painful spot and breathed into it (I did learn something in yoga class!).  Then I thought of doing a castor oil pack and it helped a lot more-at least I didn't throw up again and slept all night and woke up feeling  no worse than normal.

Shark Valley and 1909 Cafe

"I'm sorry, we're not open", said the young lady at the counter at 1909 cafe, when GS and I came in at 2pm on a Friday.
"You're not?", said I.
"Yes, we are", said in a slightly exasperated tone by her co-worker.

1909 cafe has awesome sandwiches, so awesome I can forgive the counter staff for being comedians (I can forgive a girl almost anything if she's cute), so awesome I can forgive the clever names they give their sandwiches, so awesome I wish I worked there.  Seriously, if I didn't need benefits like health insurance and didn't have rent to pay (not to mention my shoe obsession), I'd love to work in a sandwich or smoothie or salad place, one with genuinely good food and a relaxed, casual, happy atmosphere.  Being practical is rarely fun.

I had the Italian Stallion (see, I told you about their names) and GS had Chicken Pesto.  The sandwiches came on French baguettes, my favorite sandwich bread, with the ripest, reddest, tomatoes ever.  I keep sopping up the oil and vinegar that would drop off the sandwich with the bread.  The meal came with tantalizing little containers of pasta salad that were savory with tomato and roasted red pepper.  A couple of grape sodas topped it all off.

We were both starving because we had ridden the fifteen mile trail at Shark Valley earlier.  It was tough, but for some things I'm oddly competitive; I told myself I was only allowed to rest at the observation tower.  There was some wind but luckily the weather was not excruciatingly hot.  The rain that came earlier (a cold front it was called on the news, hahaha!!!) probably cooled things off a bit.  I had my shiny, fixed up bike to ride but GS had to rent one of the single gear clunkers from them, which was good because it gave him a bit of a handicap.  He's much more athletic and in shape than me and I didn't want to make a bad impression.  I did show those little kids and old people who was queen of the trail!  I got the Everglades park pass so I can go back-I really don't feel comfortable riding bike in traffic.  And, then again, it's nice riding in nature-we saw many, many alligators, soft shelled turtles, and what I believe are Great Blue Herons, and Anhingas?  Very big, pretty birds?  Yup.

Coral Way Bicycle Shop

IMO Miami leaves much to be desired as far as quality of life goes.  Sure we have beaches, beautiful weather, and Cuban coffee on every corner, but in my day dreams I long for a place that's kind of like a college town, or I guess like many cities out West I've never visited except through the Interwebs.  A place where I could frequent awesome outdoor markets, mingle with hippies, raise a couple chickens, and ride bike everywhere.  Safely.

I am really, really clumsy (I have to move very consciously and slowly whenever I'm very CLOSE to a certain someone to avoid kneeing them in their privates or elbowing their eye-seriously, I do that kind of stuff all the time *sad face*), accident prone, and then again, Miami has horrible drivers.  I would love to be able to ride a bicycle around town without fearing for my life, or at least find some places to ride where cars aren't allowed so a casual jaunt doesn't evolve into extreme sports.

Well, the first step in riding bicycle around is having a bicycle to ride.  I covet those amazing vintagesque bikes that you find nowdays, but I'm trying to save money and really can't justify buying a bike when I know I won't ride it much.  I have a gorgeous, fifteen year old Marin bicycle I bought in another life that was moldering in my mom's utility shed that I finally dragged over to Coral Way Bicycle Shop to get tuned up and have the inner tubes replaced.  This shop is close to home and locally owned.  I like having the opportunity to feel virtuous.  I can't really comment on their prices because I have no point of comparison but what I imagined I'd pay and what I paid were about the same so I felt satisfied.  They are very busy so I hope that means that far more seasoned and knowledgable people than myself trust the shop and the employees.  I was acknowledged quickly, treated well and didn't have to wait long at all.  I'll be using them again.

On a related note, why are bicycle helmets so ugly?  Allegra showed me these cute Yakay helmets that of course they don't sell in the US yet...I can't believe no one has thought of this yet?  All those clever people in those awesome cities out West that I idiolize so much are letting us down, design-wise!  Better step up!

Free Spirits

There are some places where you really don't expect good service.  The DMV.  The mechanic.  I would put dive bars in that category as well.  It's part of the gritty charm of a dive bar that the waitresses (who no doubt have bigger biceps than your boyfriend) treat you with indifference and disdain.  I fondly remember Mug Nights at the Irish Tavern, and the waitresses there...let's just say they didn't suffer (drunken) fools gladly.

I went to Free Spirits for lunch because I needed something close to the undisclosed location I was at, and a bar burger sounded just fine.  Wendy and I got there a bit early, which may have turned out to be a mistake.  Nobody loves a power trip like someone powerless, and I'm pretty darn sure they opened seven minutes late just out of the pure pleasure of making us wait.  It's not like the cute waitress was falling over herself to help us either; I've never seen anyone so gifted at avoiding eye contact.  No matter.  I don't particularly need my waitress to be my best friend, I'm all about the professional efficiency, not that schmoozy, let me pop-a-squat and fake intimacy with my customers to hopefully get a better tip.  You know, like they do at Fridays, and Applebees, and...I could never pull off that fake shit, which is probably why I had so little success when I worked at places like that.

Anyway, she was barely civil but it's ok.  The burgers came in time and were tasty as hell and I'd still go back, with no expectations, as usual.  It was pretty neat seeing a grandmotherly woman ordering a scotch, neat, on a Friday at noon.  Man, I can't wait to be old and not have to pretend to be respectable...it's going to be awesome.

Shake Shack and Krishna Das and Prana Yoga

When it comes down to it, the real question about Shake Shack is: is it better than Five Guys?  On the whole, I'd have to say yes.  The Shake Shack patty had that bar burger taste I like so much (which is probably just the taste of salt on real, gloriously fatty, beef, I think-or maybe it's the cooking process...).  The bun is sweeter than normal, which I don't prefer but I can make an exception for.  I think their fries are frozen, not hand made as are the fries from Five Guys (those sacks of potatoes lying around Five Guys DOES MEAN that their fries are made on the premises, correct?  Or is it a cleverly misleading ploy?).  I mean, the Shake Shack fries are krinkle kut, how can those possibly be made outside a factory?  Anyway, everyone knows that the best fries in the world are freshly made McDonalds fries.  They must melt some crack in that fryer oil.  True story: I did someone's taxes for McDonalds fries.  True, it was only the EZ form, but still...The day was kind of chilly (75 degrees and I'm already freezing) so I didn't order the custard, which I'm sure would have made it a much better experience.  I love me some shakes; I'll go back soon for one.

I went to the Krisha Das concert.  I swear, you'd think that hippies would be the most natural people around but in fact they really seem to be the most affected, artificial people around.  Snooki ain't got nothing on them.  What with all the hugging, and the smiling, and the earnestness, and the bare feet, and the dreads and dirtiness!  Whenever they get dressed in clean clothes they probably roll around on the ground, like a freshly washed puppy trying to fix his smell.  I mean, it's not like anyone has ceased in their efforts to be attractive, if you know what I mean...they are just trying to appeal to a different demographic.  They're as calculating as everyone else.  But the concert did make me miss my kundalini class...I really liked the one at Skanda yoga...chanting kirtan is more rewarding when you don't to block out whirling dervishes.  I nearly took a blow to the eye.

Took a class at Prana Yoga last week, my first time there.  The parking situation is tolerable; you can park at the nearby court house for free (and after hours, there is parking available there) or park at meters.  Kind of, sort of, free parking.  They have a terrifically extensive schedule with lots of basic classes, and also kundalini and meditation classes, which are hard to find elsewhere.  I'm definitely going to check out that kundalini class there.  Someday.  It's a really beautiful space as well, one of the prettiest I've seen...It looks like it was a former dance studio.  It's gorgeous and spacious all around, just like how a yoga studio is supposed to look...as long as you don't look up at the acoustic tiles ;)  No, seriously, don't look up, they are shabby lol

All in all, I really liked the place except except except...I've never found a better teacher for my taste than Joan at Rina Yoga, who teaches Hatha yoga.  So many teachers just seem to mechanically lead you through a bunch of vinyasas over and over...it's especially a bad idea for a beginner's class, I think.  I mean, there are so many neat yoga poses!  You have to excite beginners with some funky poses, some yummy stretches and twists, and not lead them through a bunch of sun salutations (with excruciatingly extended dog pose) that they don't have the upper body strength for...it doesn't make it fun.  Joan makes it fun and challenging enough, without being intimidating.  On the other hand, it was nice not being the worse one in class, for once.  I know yoga is not a competitive sport blah blah blah but come on, of course you compare yourself to the others.  When I heard the girl next to me squeak out that she was scared to try the plow position, I swear my heart melted a bit.  I was there, too, honey, I was there, too...anyway, I'm definitely going to try out other classes they offer, with different instructors, and see how they do. 

When I was doing my practice, I noticed that someone had painted a tiny om symbol right near when I had my mat.  I couldn't see another anywhere else.  I like that kind of thing, cause I'm flaky.  Signs from the universe, ya dig...

Safar Coiffure

I feel human again.  I finally got my nails done today at Safar Coiffure, a very pretty spa/salon in South Pointe.  Of course I used a Groupon, but normal prices there aren't TOO outrageous-$50 for a mani/pedi.  My awesome little place is only around $25 for the same but it's impossible for me to get there most days...I could walk to Safar during my lunch hour.
I had a talkative Ukranian woman do my nails who kept up a running commentary about anything should could think of (Shaquille O'Neal is nice, Janice Dickinson is not) but somehow she wasn't annoying-she was childlike in a charming sort of way.  Foreigners can get away with so much.  She did an adequate job on my nails but not amazing-she did little for cuticles and calluses, which is what I really care about.  My theory (and I have a theory about everything) is that places that are strictly nails only do a better job because the owners make sure that the services are standardized among their staff.  Hair salons and spas seem to just hire any licensed person to do nails and then not really worry about what the technician actually DOES.  She wasn't awful, I just wasn't impressed.  There's another place that's close by that's nails only with similiar pricing-even though it's not anywhere as pretty as Safar (in fact, it's downright grubby)- and they do a much better job.
But, I'm just happy to have a pedicure again.  I hate open toes shoes with unpainted nails, and since I have a foot fetish to support, I got to step up my game.  I actually remember that the last time I did my nails was December 30th, when I normally can't remember my address properly.  Gotta represent, ya know?

King Kone Hand Rolls

This is blog number 69.  Snigger.

My diet has been crap lately.  I haven't felt like grocery shopping, much less like cooking, and honestly, nothing has really seemed appetizing anyway.  Times like this I wish we had dog food for humans.  Just a nutritionally complete people-kibble that would taste reasonably good and I could live on it alone.  Eating can be such a chore.  I wish I was an air plant.  Or a robot.  I wish I could teleport nutrition into my belly, bypassing my mouth altogether.

As a special little treat for myself, I went to King Kone Hand Rolls for lunch today.  Mind you, this is a special little treat I planned out last week.  Making sure I have three meals a day arranged is one of my tasks.  I can't simply open up the fridge and snack on something; this requires careful planning and utilization of my meager resources.  I mean, I have to put something in my stomach regularly or it starts to, like, hurt.  And stuff.

I had a Groupon for this place so I ordered quite a bit of food, too much food, actually.  I had to throw some of it away, something I wouldn't normally do but sushi doesn't keep.  I had a ceviche hand roll, a dragon one, some seaweed salad, and something called sunomono which is cucumber salad with kimchee sauce, or so I was told.  Everything was pretty much fine.  Not thrilling, but fine.  Well-priced.  I really don't like the seaweed hand rolls come wrapped in so I ate the filling with a fork.  It was basically a mound of rice with chopped veggies, fish, sauce and toppings...pretty good but not exquisite.  And only superlative awesomeness is tempting my fickle palate lately.  I mean, the paper thin slices of white tuna, garnished with scallions, dipped in ponzu sauce, that I had at Mr. Yum recently was exquisite.  "Pretty good" is just puppy chow.  Must.  Regain.  Food.  Mojo.

Sublime

Went to Sublime for an unfashionably early dinner with GS yesterday.  I had pregamed at his house with wine because I'd had a crappy day, one of those days where it seems every asshole in SoFla crosses your path, so by the time we got there I was smiling.  Yes, you can tell I'm tipsy when I smile.

The place is huge and my first thought was, can this place possibly be in the black?  I know it was 6:30pm on a Wednesday but still, I can't imagine that it was fiscally worthwhile opening at all that day.  It's very pretty and elegant in a cold way, or pretentious as GS opined, but the menu is pretty down to earth.  It's vegetarian and touted as natural and organic and all those foodie catch words.  Everything on the menu appeared recognizable and edible but maybe a bit too safe and boring?  The menu also seemed extremely limited for a restaurant of that size; it was more of a bistro type menu where you'd assume they'd  change out dishes regularly.  I imagine Sublime doesn't do that.

The wait staff was extremely attentive and deferential which is, I suppose, better than rude and standoffish but it didn't ring quite true.  I guess I was throw off by the prison tattoos on my server's neck.  I imagine the reason, at least partly so, for the great service was the presence of the owner haunting the restaurant.  She insisted on speaking to everyone at their tables, which I guess was a nice touch if I didn't freaking hate that kind of shit.  At least I was tipsy enough to not be completely cold and uncomfortable.  She opened up the conversation by welcoming me back.  Umm...I've never been there.  She then asked GS if he had been in recently...umm...negatory.  Seriously, lady, you don't recognize us.  You don't know us.  IT'S OKAY.  Luckily she finally went away.

We both ordered pizzas: GS got a carmelized onion with mushroom and I got a "cheddar", BBQ sauce and onion one.  Yes, I understand I just complained about how dull the menu choices were, and then I went ahead and ordered the safest choice.  Sue me.  My pizza was much better than GS's, which was bland and not nice on the tummy.  I guess vegan food doesn't go down well.  The vegan coconut cake was really good, and I took all the leftovers home because, with the two pizzas, cake, and a couple drinks, the bill came to $56 before tip.  GS paid the remainder after my Groupon took care of $50 off the bill, and left the tip.  He said that he was glad the bill was so low because he would have felt really gypped paying full price for the meal...I did remind me that I paid $25 for that $50 Groupon, so the bill was actually around $31 before tip...reasonable but not a huge bargain.  I guess the meal was worth that much but not more.  I'm glad I went there because I had been wanting to for close to a year, but I'm also very glad that I/we didn't pay full price.

Biutiful

Go see it.  Today.  Now.

Be prepared to cry: not that silent, dignified weeping, but outright sniffly bawling.  There was not a dry eye in the theater.  Yes, the men too.  It's one of the best movies I've ever seen.  It's definitely the most sad.  Amazing.  And, beautiful.

Russian & Turkish Baths

I roused myself from the pit of despair I was mired in last Sunday to post a feeble cry for help on Facebook, "anyone want to go with me to the Russian and Turkish Baths on the beach?"  I knew that several of my Groupon groupie friends had purchased the Groupon for the baths when it came out a few months ago so I was hoping someone would agree to meet me, thus forcing me to get out of the apartment when all I wanted to do was lay down and moan feebly.
I met Krei at the baths at noon and we spent a couple hours there, alternately baking, steaming, freezing, and boiling ourselves.  Since we're silly, we ran around playing with everything that wasn't tied down.  We blasted each other with fire hoses.  We jumped up and down under the rain showers.  We found the leaves they use for platza and started beating each other experimentally with them when a stern, tattooed young guy in a Speedo came up to us and, disapprovingly, mutely held out his hand for us to return the leaves to him.  Thus chastized by this guy who was obviously a Russian mobster who has killed people we stopped poking around and went back to the aromatherapy room.
One cool way to seem like a bad ass is to get nice and toasty in one of the hot rooms and then jump into the ice cold water pool and pour buckets of ice water over your head.  After the intial shock it actually feels great.
I knew I would feel like a wrung out, wet mop by the end of it all and need a long nap, and I was right.  I went home and straight to bed but first, just to ensure that I passed out, I made myself a vodka and tonic.  Ok, ok, so Grey Goose is French, not Russian, but at least I was in the spirit of things.

*As I read this over I notice an excessive use of metaphor and pun that I'd like to apologize for now.

Spizzigo and El Novillo

Playing catch up today at work.  Not on work related tasks, God forbid!  But on my blog.  You can't force these things, you know.

My son, mom and I have been having dinner with the changing cast my uncle drums up for our bi-weekly get togethers for months now, and it's been pretty good - as long as we've stuck to Tutto Pizza.  Our last two get togethers were at Spizzigo and El Novillo respectively and I found our meals there both lame and sad.

Spizzigo is located in a strip mall in Doral (please understand, I dislike Doral and everything in it in an intense and irrational way) which is already a point against the restaurant.  The place is cute, if perhaps a bit cookie cutter and sterile in design.  And freaking cold!  What's with running the A/C at meat locker temperatures?  Eh.  What can I say?  The meal was a disaster from the start.  I'm sure the waiter absolutely hated us.

It seemed that my whole family was in cahoots to be as critical as possible.  We are usually nice!  Really!  I swear!  But...they forgot to get me a wine glass, forgot to bring a place setting for my cousin's wife, they were out of almost every wine my uncle tried to order but two, half the entrees we ordered were cold...the waiters were pretty damn cute, I admit, but sullen and almost rude.  I watched three charming, adorable and admittedly annoying-as-hell little kids try to get a taste of the gelato and the counter guy blew them off completely.  I don't think our waiter even attempted to look pleasant.

My uncle ordered insalata de pere, gorgonzola e noci for everyone as a starter.  The creamy dressing was way too sweet and had no balance and the pears were not ripe.  The bread they brought us was terrible, how do you call the dough part?  The masa?  Not the crust but the...well, you get it, it was all doughy, undercooked, and the crust was dusty with flour and some pathetic herbs...no crunch at all.  It has the texture and edibility of Play Doh.  I ordered spaghetti salmone e limone and the sauce was greasy as hell and with no hint of *limone*.  My mom had some mushroom/spinach tortellini that was so salty.  Absurdly so.  It's like they knew she had high blood pressure and were trying to bring about a speedy demise.  My son's pizza was pretty much ok, and we were all happy to *help* him finish it.  Altogether merda, from start to end.  Maybe gelato would have redeemed it but I think not.  At least we had alchol.  We'll always have alchol.

We had dinner at El Novillo on our previous familial outing.  I've eaten there several times, usually for work, and have found it to be a nice, inoffensive, harmless kind of place where everyone's palate can get along.  BO-RING!  I had skirt steak and it was a bit undercooked, more rare than medium rare, but a little bloody meat never bothered me.  The side dishes are so dull!  They ladle out of a trough some mushy red beans and rice that are just bland, and some maduros that are sliced too thick...honestly, there are few things that annoy me more in life than thickly sliced maduros...the oil doesn't get to the middle and so you don't have the proper ratio of sweet, carmelized outsides to sweet, softened, cooked insides.  It's just dry and raw in the middle.  Caca!  Well, to be fair it was fine.  Honestly. It's like eating at your grandma's house, but not the good cook, the other one.  It's hard to ruin this type of food but it's easy to find it prepared with indifference.  I'm too picky about Hispanic food to deal with these generic, substandard meals.  You got to put some love into it, damn it!  And, of course, pour the wine liberally.  I've firmly established myself as the family alchy, and I'm ok with that.

Tamiami Truckers Food Court

The whole food truck business seems to inspire a great deal of feeling in people, from great apathy to great antipathy to great, um...sympathy?  Just trying to keep the trend going, there.  I've had my eye on the burgeoning food truck bizniz here in Miami (damn you, Ms. Cheezious, you stole our idea!) and I've generally thought, it's a good thing.  What's not to love about cheap, tasty, sometimes interesting food coming right to you?  It seems Miami borrows nothing cool from other, hipper cities and frankly, it bums me out.  Miami is sooo provincial.

Well, I was texting about my evening plans to check out the Tamiami Truckers Food Court to this friend of mine, and I didn't really expect him to have such, ahem, strong feelings about the food truck craze.  But here, I'll let him say it in his own words, "One thing is enjoying a bite at a place and appreciating it for what it is.  But this is another matter altogether.  It borders on the obscene at this point...I have had it with this food truck business.  It is so shallow.  You won't order a grilled cheese sandwich from Denny's, but all of sudden some Argentine c*** brings you one in a truck and it's the culinary equivalent of the Venus de Milo?  F*** that.  It's the excitement in people's eyes that most gets to me...There are perfectly decent restaurants going out of business, closer to home.  I'm not excited about standing in line with 200+ assholes who think this "street meat" parade is worth the sojourn inot the hills for a "really good sandwich".  All those FB updates, these twatters...I just can't take it."

I must say, full disclosure, this is one of my very best friends and I retaliated by posting many Facebook and twatter updates about the whole event, just to bug him.  I'm so mature.

I do see his point(s).  It was far as hell for me.  You get there and there is a sense of expectancy that never gets fulfilled...like another friend of mine said that night (be careful what you say, I will quote you), "It's like the Youth Fair without any rides".

Exactly.  I ate a lot, and enjoyed some things quite a bit...especially the carnita I had from Jefe's.  The fish taco from there seemed a little bland but P did steal my hot sauce.  Oh!  And Wendy's Crab Salad and Cheddar sandwich from Ms. Cheezious was really good, especially when she added the perennial pickles to it...I know she'll be making those at home very soon.  I thought the lettuce wraps from Miso Hungry was only ok, the pork inside was very dry.  The only sign of freshness in the wrap was the cilantro.  We had crepes at the French place that were pretty great, too.

All in all, I had a really nice time but to be honest, it was mostly the company and, well, the beer helps, of course.  I would have had an equally nice time at Wendy's apartment with the same people.  Now that I've done it once I don't know that I need to do it again, especially to the meet-ups that are so FAR.  Some of the meet-ups are much closer and I'm not averse to trying them out...I spent like $15 for quite a lot of food.  It is nice, however, to have a destination on a weekend night, it keeps me from feeling like I'm melting into a sloth-like complacency where I never  go out anymore.  I will just put forth one request: Port-a-Potties?  Please?

Robert is Here Fruit Stand and Farm

I romanticize country life, I admit that.  I imagine myself in some self sufficient paradise where the pantry is full of canned produce from my own garden, the laundry is drying on the line outside and chickens and piglets run around in happy, free-range bliss.  I suppose the reality of country life is probably relentless poverty and a crushing work load but hey, it's my fantasy, damn it.  Don't be a buzz kill.

Robert is Here is one of those places that I feel compelled to drag the uninitiated to.  It's far as hell and I suppose anything you find there you can find in a more convenient location but, what's the fun in that?  You can find fresh produce, jarred jellies, jams and preserves, and the most delicious milkshakes in terrific flavors such as key lime and cantalope/chocolate.  There is a small farmyard with real live animals (a weird mix including turtles, geese, ostriches or emus or something, burros or donkeys or something, parrots, chickens, goats...you get it) that no doubt eat a hell of a lot better than you and I do.  Hell, there is even a working water pump to play with!

I'm not sure of the sustainability of their products...I suppose I could contact them to ask if their products are produced locally or not, but I'm lazy.  I assume their produce is local and their jarred items are not.  In any case, it's always better to buy from an independent business rather than a chain, and it's always better to buy local food rather than something trucked in.  That would make you a locavore.  Crazy!