Mediocre Food Makes Me Cranky---but I'm going to Spain, so suck on THAT.

Okay, so I didn't post a lot of salads. Or...more than one. Yet. But I have an excuse--FAME. My previous complaints about people wanting to take me out for foods still stand. Case in point: The other night Sasch called me and up and was like, "let's go eat at Cafeteria tonight and then you can write about it." And I, riding high on the rush of my previous post and the instant approbation of my friends, was all, "that is pretty much erzackly what I would like to do tonight."

What I love about Cafeteria: They Put Truffle Oil in Everything.

What I hate about Cafeteria: They Kind of Just Put Truffle Oil in Everything. No one loves a truffle more than This Girl, but really, learn a new trick. And while they have a menu full of interesting cocktails, they are ALL sweet.

Cafeteria's food philosophy is based around tarting-up comfort food(very trendy). They have really, really delicious fried chicken, good meatloaf, and 3 iterations of mac-and-cheese which are just make-your-head-a-splode awesome (one, of course, truffled). They started us off with these biscuits:

They were flaky and crispy and good, but but Sasch and I both thought they were a little bit too sweet, especially with the Honey butter. They brought us a second round that we didn't even touch. Sidestory: Sasch had just gotten off a 3 day fast, was literally starving, and didn't feel like eating another biscuit. So there you go. Then we got this Turkey Burger with Avocado (dericious) and this Hangar Steak with Polenta Fries (eh.)

They were both of an acceptable level of goodness, but nothing spectacular--and again, I thought even the turkey burger was too sweet. I think the problem with the whole meal was I wanted to order the fried chicken and thought, "no, order something you've never tried here before." MISTAKE. I was trying to be all adventuresome, instead of listening to the tum-tums. Lesson learned.

This red velvet cake was awesome though. Surprisingly, it wasn't too sweet, and it was dense, velvety, and tangy.

Here is one of Sasch attacking it with her fork. Did I mention the 3-day fast?

Rawr! No wait, hungrier...RAWR!

So the final verdict? Worth going there, the price is reasonable and if you order the right things (mac n cheese, chicken, meatloaf, comfort foods, etc), its delish. Also, lunch is really good--more salad options--the calamari salad is huge and tasty. There. Wrote about a salad. A month later.

Whatever, shit got real.

Speaking of things that are real, I am going to Spain tomorrow.

"Wait," you say. "Did I read that right?" Oh yes mis amigos. Yo voy a España mañana. I'm muy excited, especially for the copious amounts of cured meats and iberian cheeses I will be eating, and subsequently writing about. For those of you interested in a more comprehensive report of life for a young American studying in Seville, check out www.lindavelasco.blogspot.com. It's pretty much the awesomest thing ever.

The Splendor of the Chicken, or, January is a Tease

Winter 2010 is on, pigeons, and she is a Stone-Cold Bitch. Mid-January we had those three or four gorgeous days, when everyone was outside without a jacket on, walking their kids and playing with their dogs, and we all sort of thawed out and people were smiling at each other on 8th avenue, and then WHAM! 7 degrees. And you know you don't want to leave your apartment when that happens. But you also don't want to order Thai and watch Heroes alone in your undies--again. So what do you do? Call your friends/lovers/roommates, make them come over (suckers!) and cook a chicken.

On Saturday Gige and I hung out at Cafe Amrita until we started getting dirty looks from the people waiting for tables, and then we took our party to the Hungarian Pastry Shop to sit and drink coffee and do work. Hungarian is a great place to hang out if you like to listen to pretentious grad-students (or if you are one), or if you need a place to work on your latest novella/screenplay/manifesto. They have some really tasty pastries (almond horn!) and also some less than delicious concoctions(weird chocolate ball thing--Sasch loves it), good coffee, and you can just sit there for hours. Which we did, until I started to vibrate from the 7 or 8th refill. We decided to meet up with her mom and make some dinner. The consensus: Chicken And Maybe Like a Salad or Something.

I swear to whatever deity is listening, nothing slaps a band-aid on Winter Madness better than the smell of a roast chicken. Think about it. All the crispy salty brown goodness, the juicy plumpness, the schmaltz dripping down onto various root vegetables. It makes everything just. a little. bit. better. And it's also the kind of dish that looks impressive without actually being that labor-intensive.

You can look up how to do this online, so I'm not gonna repeat it here, but note this: one thing no one ever tells you is that you have to dry the chicken off or it won't brown. Use a few paper towels, get it good and dry, and then rub some butter or olive oil into it. It's foolproof.

Rubbing in the butter. Oh yeah.

Gige does not have a roasting pan, so we used an aluminum thing from the grocery store. Be advised: it is wicked easy to cut through the bottom of these things, and then the juice goes all over, so be careful. Anyway, then we ate it, and I know you're jealous. Deal with it.

We made a gorgeous chicken roasted over turnips and sweet potatoes, and a salad with watercress. The whole thing was fantastic. And we had so much fun cooking together. There's something about cooking as a communal act that is deeply compelling. I think it's the shared responsibility of providing nourishment. Some of my best memories from college are of giant breakfasts we'd make together, of JP grilling salmon he caught himself on a little tailgating grill in the back of his truck, of making blue-cheese stuffed burgers and seared pineapple on the crappiest charcoal Weber in a front yard littered with party-wreckage. And then of eating these things together......as much as I love restaurants, this is the best argument I know for a night in with a (few) bottle(s) of wine, and the people I like. Winter can just suck it, like I sucked the meat of those chicken bones Saturday night (sidenote: I'm not allowed to eat roast chicken in front of people who don't know me. It is Not Cute.)

But tonight I'm definitely watching Heroes in my underwear. Let's not pretend.