A Persian Apology

Wow.  It's been too long.  Some of it is laziness.  Some of it is being busy.  Some of it is trying to save money.  But I'm going to say that most of it is not wanting to leave my comfort zone.

As I mentioned before, I no longer live with my parents.  My first attempt at living alone (but with roommates) has really dulled my self-proclaimed adventurous streak.  When I'm done paying bills and taking my cats to emergency vet appointments, I just want to eat mac and cheese.  And when I get home from work, I just want to play video games or binge a show on Netflix until it's time to make dinner.

But a few weeks ago, Joey and I braved the cold and treated ourselves to dinner.  I felt better about paying for an adventure because we walked to and from the restaurant.  We went to a restaurant that we have passed countless times on our way to one of our favorite bars, a Persian restaurant called Noon O Kabab.

I ordered the Noon O Two.  Two giant kabobs and some grilled veggies and cucumber salad in a giant pita.

I was not exaggerating the size.  The pita even obscures the second kabob!

I was nervous waiting for it to come out.  The Noon O Kabab menus were rather vague when describing their seasonings.  They simply say "Persian seasonings," as if that covers all the possible spices that could be used.  There are so many spices in this world, many of them originating near Persia!  Many of them dreadful!

My serving platter was set before me.  I cut off a small corner and tasted it, ready to douse any fires with moosir.  But I must say I was pleasantly surprised! "Persian seasonings" are apparently subtle, complimenting the meat instead of transforming it entirely.  Truly delicious.

And it lasted for two meals!

A Send-Off Adventure

My little baby sister isn't so baby anymore.  In fact, she just left to study abroad in Northern Ireland.  Before she left, I took her out for a lovely, fancy Italian dinner.  We had four courses!  And I splurged and bought the absolute cheapest bottle of wine on the menu!

We talked about cats, and boys, and how much we were going to miss each other, and how we were getting a little tipsy on wine.

But what is adventurous about that?  I love pasta.  No one can question that.

The adventure came with the dessert course.  I decided to get a crème brûlée.  I'm not sure why they were serving a French dessert, but they were.

The last time I had crème brûlée, I was in college.  A somewhat pretentious campus photographer decided to brûlée up some dessert in our third floor dormitory kitchen.  Because what college kid doesn't have crème brûlée ramekins just lying around his dorm room?

Long story short: It sucked.  It tasted like a horrible caramel-coffee-fire-mess.

Somehow I decided to give it another try.  Maybe it was the wine.

I started eating it before I took the picture.  I blame the wine again.

Maybe it was because this one was made by professional cooks/chefs in a professional kitchen.  Maybe it was the lack of coffee in this recipe.  Maybe it was the wine.  No matter the reason, this crème brûlée was amazingly delicious.

I miss my sister, though.

Return of the Alumni

Emily, Joey, and I decided to visit our alma mater last weekend.  Not much appears to have changed at Grinnell (other than G-Tones' apparent fall from grace), but I think I have changed a lot.  Well, at least when it comes to food.

We made our triumphant return to La Cabaña.  I already knew I was going to get a peach margarita.  But, for the first time, I was going to order food as well.

When I was at Grinnell, I would "pre-game" our trips to La Cabaña.  By pre-game, I mean go to the d-hall and get dinner before I went out to the restaurant with my friends.  Usually Joey would come with me and get something tiny, like carrots, to munch on while I ate my real dinner.  At La Cabaña, I would order a margarita and nothing else while everyone else got Grande Burritos or Cheese Enchiladas.

Not this time.  This time I ordered food and a margarita.

Behold.  Food and alcohol.  The waitstaff of La Cabaña has never seen one of these in front of me.

And it was delicious.  So cheesy and not spicy at all!  I probably would have enjoyed it even before my adventuring began.  I was just a scaredy-cat.  Maybe next time I'll try a burrito....

Adventures in Dixie (Part Two)

Thursday, we went out for Indian food.  Yup, Indian food.  Talk about trial by fire, huh?  My only consolation was that it was a buffet, so I could pick and choose exactly what I wanted (or felt I could handle).

Joey's dad is a spicy food junkie.  It can never be too hot.  He loves Indian food.  The restaurant Joey's parents were taking us to (Bombay Palace) is one of their favorites.

And Joey's parents knew I was trying to adventure.  They also knew that I love naan.  And there was the sense of safety that only a buffet can provide.  So Indian didn't seem like a bad idea.

Since it was a buffet, I got a bunch of different things.  Some were awesome, some were fine, some were unbearably spicy.

Plate #1: (Starting at the bottom and moving clock-wise) White Rice, Egg Rice, Cabbage, Saag Spinach, Mutter Paneer.  To the side, in bowls, are Yogurt and Kheer.

White Rice is White Rice.  No judgement needed to be passed.

The Egg Rice had not only egg but also tomato and onion in it.  But I ate it anyway!  Major grown-up points awarded!

The Cabbage was pretty innocuous, and I already like Cabbage.  It tasted mildly vinegary.  Very yummy.

Ah, the Saag Spinach.  Much spicier than I thought it would be.  I had to mix it with a lot of rice to eat it.  Even after diluting it, I left more than half of it on my plate.  But two out of three ain't bad, am I right?

I thought the Mutter Paneer would be the spiciest, but it was much milder than the Saag Spinach.  Still not a huge fan of peas, but I ate most of the sauce mixed with the Egg Rice.

Off to the side, I had dishes of yogurt (to put out any fires) and something called Kheer.  Easily the best thing offered at the buffet.  I loved it.  It was like almond milk rice pudding with hints of cardamom and sugar.

Then I went back for Round Two.

Plate #2: More Egg Rice and a small helping of Chicken Tikka Masala

Chicken Tikka Masala.  Doesn't that sound terrifying? Well, it actually wasn't.  Aside from the fact that I'm still not a fan of chicken, the sauce was mild enough that I could eat it.  And it was creamy enough that I didn't taste much tomato.

All in all, highly successful outing.  I'm almost ready to head up to Devon and test my new-found ability to consume Indian food!

Almost.

(One more adventure in Dixie!  Check back tomorrow!)

Post-Race Adventure

About a year ago, Joey started running.  Yesterday, he completed his first 5K!  Obviously, this was a cause for celebration!  We decided to have a post-race brunch at Tre Kronor.

Tre Kronor always has quiche and egg specials during brunch and breakfast hours.  I was torn between a Red Pepper and Brie Quiche (since I now like bell peppers!) and Swedish Pancakes.  Swedish Pancakes are in my top ten all-time favorite foods, so I chose them over the quiche.  The famished Joey chose Eggs Benedict on Crab Cakes, one of the egg specials.  We also got two danishes, which were delicious.

Tre Kronor always makes delicious food.  Our brunch was no exception.  The Swedish Pancakes were amazing.  Joey loved his Eggs Benedict on Crab Cakes.

Don't let the potatoes fool you.  This meal does not look delicious.

Before he smothered his food in hot sauce (ultra "Do Not Eat" food), he let me have a bite of his celebratory meal.

Now, Eggs Benedict is served with Hollandaise Sauce.  According to Wikipedia, there was nothing too horrifying involved.  But I've never had Hollandaise Sauce before.  And it looks kind of gross.  And it has a scary name that might be French.  And French cuisine can be pretty scary.  They eat snails after all.

And Crab Cakes.  First of all, crab.  Do Not Eat food.  Second of all, one time I ordered Crab Cakes in Colonial Williamsburg when I was 12, and they were nasty.  I had to trade dinners with my grandmother.  They were dry and oceanic and a little bit spicy.  Gross.

But if Joey can run a 5K in single digit weather, I can have a bite of Eggs Benedict on Crab Cakes!  Besides, I had my Swedish Pancakes to wash the potentially horrible taste out of my mouth.  So I broke off a little piece with my fork.

Firstly, Hollandaise Sauce is delicious!  It is so buttery and lovely!  I want to make my own Hollandaise Sauce!  Well done, Tre Kronor!  Well done!

Secondly, these Crab Cakes (despite Chicago's lack of salt water) were also wonderful.  They were almost the exact opposite of the Crab Cakes from Colonial Williamsburg.  They were oceanic, though not overwhelmingly so.

The combination of Hollandaise Sauce and Crab Cakes blew my mind.  I guess that's why lobster and crab are served with big, old tubs of butter.

Tre Kronor really changed my opinion on both Hollandaise Sauce and Crab Cakes.  And I am grateful this adventure turned out so well!  I might even order Eggs Benedict on Crab Cakes for myself next time.

A Valentine's Day Adventure

For Valentine's Day, Joey and I decided to treat ourselves to a nice dinner.  We went to a fancy Italian restaurant in Lincoln Square.  Due to romantic mood lighting and not wanting to set off a huge flash, there are no pictures of this adventure.  Only my word.

We ordered Prosciutto con Melone as an appetizer to share.  Joey ordered fancy-people Margherita Pizza, and I decided to go with Conchiglie Ripieni Marscapone (Italian for Spinach Stuffed Shells and Meatballs).

My meal was not very adventurous, but the appetizer and Joey's dinner counted.

Our prosciutto came with dried figs on the side.  I like Fig Newtons, but eating the dried skin of a fig?  Without a cookie surrounding it??  No thank you!

But then I remembered that I am a grown up.  I shouldn't have to disguise fruit with a cookie in order to eat it!  I'm 25, not 5!  So I ate that dried, little, cookie-less Fig Newton.

Dried figs taste exactly like Fig Newtons!  Dried figs are awesome!  Doesn't that make me sound so posh?  "Pass me the dried figs, wouldn't you, dear?"  That's pretty posh.

Joey's pizza also counts as an adventure.  His Margherita Pizza was essentially dough that was covered in mozzarella cheese and whole slices of tomatoes.  Tomatoes are disgusting.  They are the worst and I hate them.

But then, once more, I remembered that I am a grown up.  A grown up who was at a fancy restaurant with her grown up boyfriend!  So I bit the bullet and ate a slice.

The tomatoes were unexpectedly sweet.  They weren't crunchy, like I thought they were going to be.  The pizza wasn't bad.  It wasn't Martino's, but it was okay.

I definitely won't be putting tomatoes on my salad or anything.  Raw, they're still ultra gross.

A Little Less Gringa

Last week was Joey's birthday.  To celebrate, he asked if I would be up for going to a Mexican restaurant.  We live in a neighborhood with a very large Mexican population.  There are lots of restaurants around us that Joey has been wanting to try.

Since I can finally eat beans, I agreed.  We found a restaurant nearby, and it even sold cheeseburgers!  (That's important because my dad doesn't eat Mexican food.  I had to get my picky-ness from somewhere!)

So everyone was seated around the table.  I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous.  This was a huge gamble.  I took a deep breath and reached for some tortilla chips to help settle my nerves.  I saw my dad dip the chips in the salsa.  I didn't remember him liking salsa.

"I don't mind it if the salsa is mild."

Not really a gamble.  Just a leap of faith.

So I decided to brave the scary, red sauce.  I dipped my chip in the salsa.  And it was spicy!!  That's what I get for trusting a man who likes mild curry.

The chips and salsa were free, so I wasn't losing much by trying them.  Just taste buds.  My main course would definitely be a gamble.  I went with cheese enchiladas in a red sauce.  There was no description of the sauce, and I was wagering actual money on whether or not I would be able to eat this meal.

Here's my hand.  Hopefully a safe bet?

I wiped the onions off the top.  Raw onions are still not going to happen for a good long time.  I cut off a small bit of enchilada and went all in.

The red sauce had very little flavor, just lightly tomato, and it wasn't spicy at all!  Cheese is always delicious.  I slowly came to a realization.  I liked this meal!  I enjoyed this meal at an actual Mexican restaurant!  My family was so proud!

Definitely going back again.  And can't wait to hit up La Cabaña and finally get more than a margarita!  Too bad Iowa is so far....

What's All the Hullabaloo About?

So I might have seriously neglected my blogging over the holiday weekend.  And the post-holiday week...  Whoops!  Well, I'm getting back on track.  This post was a long time coming.

Over Thanksgiving, a friend was in from out of town.  Miriah and I went to see a movie with her and then suddenly found ourselves at a sushi restaurant.

Sushi is something I do not understand.  As far as I do understand, the driving force behind sushi is people will pay to eat raw fish that has been draped over a bundle of rice and seaweed.  It is only slightly more logical than paying to eat a steak you have to cook yourself.

Miriah doesn't really do sushi either, but for the sake of politeness we took off our shoes and pulled up a chair.  I scoured the menu for something I would enjoy and luckily found vegetable tempura.  Miriah decided to try some sushi.  The table ordered four rolls, each a different kind.  There was your typical raw fish on top of rice and seaweed variety, fried crab, and semi-spicy sweet potato.

Miriah avoided the raw fish since she doesn't even like cooked fish.  (I'm not the only fan of the kids' menu in our family.)  I stuck with my fried veggies.  Till the end.

I was persuaded to try the semi-spicy sweet potato sushi.  Being the adult that (chronologically) I am, I dipped the slightly-more-than-one-bite-sized roll in soy sauce and shoved it in my mouth.  I assume you eat the rolls all in one bite, hence the shoving.

That's sushi.  That's what people lose their minds for.  I might never know why.

Despite the protests that the roll was not actually spicy, I felt the familiar burning of the taste buds.  It was nowhere near as scorching as those wings, but there was kick nonetheless.  The most surprising part came after the slight heat subsided.  After the heat was nothing.  If the sushi had not had that semi-spicy sauce, it would have had no flavor at all.

I'm not normally one to knock bland foods.  In fact, a lot of my favorite foods would never be described as "bursting with flavor."  But people are obsessed with sushi.  People who consider themselves super into food and its accompanying flavors.  So why are they into sushi?  It tasted like nothingness.  There was no complex interplay of flavors, no delicate balance of x and y.

I admit that I only had one of the apparently multiple varieties of sushi.  Maybe other varieties have more flavor.  But I'm not willing to risk my money on that.  Do you know how cheap sweet potatoes and rice are?  So much cheaper than sushi!  Maybe I'll come back to sushi in a couple months and find that there's something I didn't pick up on the first time around.  For now, sushi very securely remains on the "Do Not Eat" list.

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Recently, my mother celebrated her birthday.  We all went to The Atlantic, scene of the first way-too-hot wings.  I got the delicious Mac and Cheese.  Joey got a Crab Cake Sandwich that he couldn't convince me to take a bite of.  There was some suspicious sauce on it....

Joey and I ordered Cheese Fries as well.  I just can't say no to cheese and potatoes!  My parents ordered Curry Fries for the group.

Look at that.  That's the flavor equivalent of an oil spill.

Everyone told me the curry was mild and almost sweet.  Well, I've been told things were mild before.  That turned out to be a giant lie.  At least the curry sauce was a natural-looking color.  And there were fries that hadn't been contaminated, just in case I needed to sooth my burning mouth.

I took one curry-covered fry and one plain fry.  I ate the curry-covered fry and...it was delicious!  My family had not lied to me!  The curry was sweet!  I actually ate more, and I even dipped my plain fry into the curry sauce.  It was more tangy than spicy with a lovely sweet note to compliment the salt of the fry.  I'm looking forward to eating them again!

Joey is already planning a trip to Little India.  I don't know how soon that adventure will be happening....

They Claimed the Sauce Was Mild. They Lied.

Joey and I went to see a movie the other day.  The movie theater is right next door to Buffalo Wild Wings, and I am a sucker for those Potato Wedges with Cheese.  It combines two of my favorite things: potatoes and cheese.

But what the restaurant is really known for is their wings.  They have a bunch of sauces you can get on the wings.  I was feeling adventurous so I told Joey I would split some wings with him.  I said, "But you can't go any spicier than mild."

I'm about to use math to explain my reasoning.  This will be the last time (probably) that I use math on this blog.  Mild is the fifth sauce from the bottom of a 21-rung spiciness ladder.  There are 16 sauces ahead of mild.  In other numbers, 76% of their sauces are spicier than mild.  I felt comfortable in the lowest quartile of the spicy range.  I figured it would not rock my world, but that it wouldn't be unbearable either.

So we ordered 25 mild wings.  Apparently, I was also feeling ambitious.  We each ordered a beer, and we decided to split a basket of those delicious potatoes.

Then the wings arrived.

That is a color and sheen that does not occur in nature.

The wings were bright orange.  My first clue that Buffalo Wild Wings had lied to me.  Then I bit into one.  Yup.  Definitely not mild.  My mouth felt like bank statements in a fireplace.  But I was committed to finishing that wing!  The wings were so hot that I used ketchup (usually a total yuck food) to sooth my scalded mouth.

I didn't want to make Joey eat 25 wings, so I somehow managed to eat a grand total of 3 wings.  I think the fact that I managed to eat not only one but three wings shows my development as a person.

I learned two lessons that night:

1. I can suffer through (some of) a meal if I really put my mind to it.
2. Never underestimate the lowest quartile of spiciness.  It's still really spicy.

Horrible, mouth-burning experience aside, I cannot wait to go back and eat more Potato Wedges with Cheese.

Slacking....

Wow.  So I've been slacking.  I've been so busy these past couple weeks.  I'm planning a Halloween party and I have to make costumes!

But on Saturday night, when we went out to a pub for a friend's birthday, I adventured.  Joey ordered a small plate of buffalo chicken.  Miriah said, "That's really spicy."  Joey said, "It's a little spicy."  I said, "I'll have a small bite."  (I had a big plate of mac and cheese to wash it down.)

I cut off a little bit of the insanely bright chicken.  I took a deep breath and ate it.  Miriah was right.  That was really spicy.  It spread like wildfire, burning everything.  It was worse than the time I drank hot chocolate with a straw and scorched the roof of my mouth.  Somehow, I  managed to get it all down and then stuffed mac and cheese into the burnt remains of my mouth.

On a side note, that was delicious mac and cheese.