You Turn Right at the WHAT Now?

For years, I've driven through Midtown Atlanta for a variety of reasons, and more often than not, I exit the freeway and enter the city via 17th Street. And in the course of these years, I've seen this one landmark at least 200 times. And each time I see it, I think the exact same thing.

It's part of the exterior design of a restaurant, you see. And this restaurant is always busy, it's been there for years, and I just googled it to find that every review site shows it having an average of 4-5 stars. It appears on numerous "Best Of..." lists as well. For these reasons, I am absolutely certain that the food is wonderful, the service is friendly and helpful, and the ambience is unbeatable. I don't know that firsthand, because I've never eaten there. I doubt I ever will. This is partly due to my being a massive cheapskate, partly due to my not especially loving Thai food, but mostly due to this landmark they've erected. Actually, I may be the only person in the world who would call it a "landmark", but it's so unique! So unignorable! So far in the forefront of my mind! Because people are always eating there, and it is always busy and I don't know how that can be, because

COME ON, MAN! HOW IS THAT NOT A GIANT BRONZE GORILLA TURD?

Image shamelessly yoinked from the in-depth (and very complimentary) review at Atlanta Restaurant Reviews

This Dickensian Street Urchin Sponsored by Reaganomics!

Due to, ahem, uncertain circumstances in the near future, I have been scrambling these last few weeks to squirrel away massive percentages of every paycheck in the hopes that, should the worst case scenario come to pass, I can sleep for three straight months before I have to start looking for work again. Up til now, my personal financial philosophy has been: "There are some things that are worth splashing out on, and a lot of things that aren't." To give you an example of how that works: I will gladly pay $4-5 for a decent/responsibly-sourced cup of coffee, but I will not replace a pair of jeans until they literally fall off my body. And when I do replace them, I will not spend more than $40 (that's 10 cups of coffee!).

My new personal financial philsophy is: "THIS MATTRESS FULL OF QUARTERS IS MINE AND YOU CAN'T HAVE IT!!!!" By and large, it's working fine, with the minor caveat that apparently I'm not entitled to goods and services of any kind unless I part with my money. That's how they get ya! So my master plan to shrug off air conditioning didn't really pan out. And there really is a point at which it makes more sense to throw the mushrooms out and buy more, rather than eat them and pay the associated medical bills. Live and learn, right? Oh - and if you think you'll be Extra Super Smart and refinance/modify your mortgage, be sure to hold the phone at least 4 inches from your ear so you won't bust a cochlea when the bank's Mortgage Bastard looks up your home's value and laughs so hard chocolate milk comes out of his nose. Just speaking from experience.

Today I brought a frozen meal for lunch (Amy's Mattar Tofu - $3.39 before tax! Why didn't I just buy gold-plated toilet paper while I was at it?!?!). But when I went to heat it up, I found that someone somewhere in my building had had a Jason's Deli-catered lunch. I know this because the dregs had been left out in the breakroom in keeping with local tradition. There were pickles! There was pasta salad! There was POTATO salad! I discreetly replaced the Amy's lunch in the fridge, fetched my grande coffee mug, and stuffed it full of potato salad. As I scarfed it down at my desk, I smugly reflected on the $3.39 meal I had managed to save for another day, and how fortuitous it was that someone had left a big bowl of fat-smothered salted carbohydrates of unknown provenance in my path. If only it had a sign that said "EAT ME", my Alice in Wonderland fantasy would finally be complete!

Then I thought "This is one step removed from eating out of a trash can." Some days I'm just so darned proud to be me. So yeah, the whole "trickle down" thing is definitely working -  my trash can overfloweth!

A Very American Half-Birthday

You almost certainly don't know this about me, but July 4th is my half-birthday! That's right! This year I turned 32.5, and the entire country got a day off work to celebrate! People were even setting off fireworks! For a modest gal like me, all the attention is really kind of embarrassing.

This time of year also seems to coincide with an annual nationwide seizure of patriotism (unrelated). It's always a little awkward for me, not because I don't heart my country - I do  - but I import virtually all of my news and entertainment from across the pond. As a result, I'm somewhat out of step with the current cultural norms around here - I was embarrassingly late to the Modern Family party, I have no idea which sports season we're in, and for the life of me I don't know if I "realized" my blind date was a serial killer, or if I "realised" it. THEY BOTH LOOK RIGHT!

Upon realiz/sing that I was losing touch with my roots, I decided to get on the proverbial bandwagon for my half-birthday and do it up America-style.

Step 1: Road trip!
This part was easy, since my parents were going to visit my brother in Augusta. All I had to do was hitch a ride, and I was halfway to being a regular Betsy Ross! I have no idea what I mean by that. I certainly didn't sew anything.

Step 2: American cuisine
There was some debate over where we would have lunch, and we were deadlocked between Mexican food and pizza - not very American choices, I think you'll agree! I managed to fix the whole thing up with five magical words: "IHOP has funnel cakes now." And so we went to IHOP, one of the top 20 most American eateries I can think of off the top of my head!* I probably went a bit astray by ordering an omelet topped with hollandaise sauce (patriotism FAIL), but I like to think I made up for it by dutifully coloring in a kids menu.

This is what the CD cover would look like if my cat, my mom's cats, and my brother's cat formed a band. Note blood at tip of giant claw. They're hardcore.

I also stumbled upon a new educational initiative which reintroduces arts education for young children, presumably as part of the No Child Left Behind program. You won't be able to read the light grey print, but it says (emphasis mine): "Use the diagram to the right to learn to read music! Then draw notes below to create a special song."

My parents paid a lot of money over many years for me to learn the secrets I could just as easily have gotten from the diagram on the right WHILE eating a Funny Face Pancake!

Suzuki Method? More like So-Puke-y Method! OUR kids will learn to read music at the IHOP, thankyouverymuch!

Step 3: See a Disney movie
Cars 2, y'all!

Step 4: Road Cuisine
Because nothing tastes better than the months-old junk you dig up off a shelf at a convenience store during a long car ride. I'm not even being sarcastic, either - I love that crap. And since we stopped at a Circle K, I got myself one of the jewels in my country's culinary crown:

It's a frozen Mountain Dew. JEALOUS?

And that was my Very American Half-Birthday Road Trip. Fun, right? It was nice to have a day, just America and I, to reflect on why we like each other so darn much. And if you're one of the people who has dedicated your life (or even just some part of it) to protecting the awesome of America, thank you.

Still, I'm glad we made up with the Brits eventually; there's some really good stuff on the iPlayer this week.

*You didn't think I'd back that up, did you? Well SUCK IT! Here are the Top 20 Most American Eateries I Can Think Of Off The Top Of My Head, as determined by a scientific survey of yours truly staring at the wall and saying, "Hmmm...what else?" until I had filled in all the lines.
1. McDonald's
2. A&W 
3. Shoney's
4. Waffle House
5. White Castle
6. IHOP
7. The Cheesecake Factory
8. Red Lobster
9. Cracker Barrel (aside for those who love Cracker Barrel: I didn't make this, but it's awesome)
10. Taco Bell (that is NOT Mexican food)
11. Fuddruckers
12. Piccadilly Cafeteria
13. Ryan's
14. Steak 'n Shake
15. Every mall food court
16. Dunkin Donuts
17. Bob Evans
18. Denny's
19. Chick-fil-A
20. Anywhere that serves Frito Pie

Mid-Week Fun: Playing With My Food

Going through the memory card on my camera the other day, I realized I might spend too much time staring at/artfully arranging my food. Like last week, when I was sautéing onions:

Or that time in grad school, when I made the "LSD Mickey Mouse Cake" for my family's Easter party:

This took FOREVER.

Or last month, when I finished my popcorn and noticed that the unpopped kernels had brought me a special, personal message from the Universe.

Awwwwwww. Hooray for food. And also for the fact that it's humpday...

Too Easy

This morning, I finally got the digital antenna lined up so I could watch something other than Netflix. First order of business was to check out the WPBA schedule because I'm a Masterpiece Mystery junkie and couldn't remember when it aired (I've been without TV for a loooooooong time). Imagine my surprise when I saw this:

10 points for the awesome title, but I think the concept is a little lazy. I've never met a sandwich I didn't like. Somebody at WPBA is phoning it in. 

Also A Good Plan if You Insist on Paying $7 for Junior Mints

As I sat sipping coffee outside a movie theater last week, I saw one of the most wonderful things I’ve ever seen.

An old, half-wrecked car pulled up to the curb in front of the theater between showtimes, and a woman in a t-shirt and shorts got out.

She went directly into the theater without buying a ticket.

The car pulled away.

Two minutes later, she reemerged carrying a ginormous tub of popcorn.

The car reappeared, she got in, and they drove away.

I only wish I’d had the presence of mind to stand and applaud, because I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat down to watch a DVD with some of that crappy low-fat air-popped fake-butter nonsense they sell at the grocery store, thinking, “This is pretty good, but it’s not as good as real popcorn.” And in all my years of half-enjoying movie night, I’ve never thought to get in my car, drive to a movie theater, buy some properly fatted-up popcorn, and bring it back home. What a disappointing failure of imagination on my part.

Sometimes Pizza is the Better Choice

More often than not, I leave work on Improv Practice Day (more commonly known as “Wednesday”) and find myself faced with the daunting combination of nothing edible in my home and two measly hours before I have to leave for the theatre. Preferring to focus on the positive, I see this as “a perfect excuse to eat fast food for dinner” instead of “a sad commentary on a grown woman who can’t take care of herself properly”. But when it happened last week, I didn’t feel inclined to have pizza or Taco Hell or a mostly-cheese “vegetarian” sandwich. Instead, I had a brilliant idea. BRILLIANT, I tell you: frozen yogurt! It’s cheap, it’s low-fat but high-calcium, and apparently it contains “live and active cultures”, which are on the list of Trendy Things We’re All Supposed to Consume in Huge Quantities. So I stopped at Yogli Mogli (which, in case you were wondering, is exactly like Yoforia, Slimberry, Pinkberry, Menchie’s, Swirll, Cow Licks, Cloud 9, Yorika, Yogurtland, and The Yogurt Tap) (except Cloud 9 also has cupcakes), and as I drove home with the increasingly less-frozen yogurt in my cupholder, I thought, “I bet I could come up with at least…

10 Excellent Reasons Why I’m Never Allowed to Have Frozen Yogurt for Pre-Improv Practice Dinner Ever Again

1. No good comes of putting 7-year olds in charge. The 7-year old me, who makes most of my decisions, COULD NOT imagine a better dinner than this! But when you walk into a place called “Yogli Mogli” as an adult in business attire, you become acutely aware of just how not 7 you are. The only way you’re getting away with it is if you brought a 7-year old with you. And I’m pretty sure the daycare place doesn’t loan them out.

2. That 20 minute drive never takes 20 minutes. Sometimes I can get home from work in 20 minutes, but never on days when I need to. I should’ve known that putting anything frozen in the car would up the commute to at least 45 minutes. Lesson learned.

3. Panic attacks. 7-year old me may not care about the car upholstery, but 32-year old me cares very deeply about the car upholstery, so I spent most of the drive home glancing anxiously at the cupholder, waiting for it to spew forth melted yogurt at every stop, start, or turn. Of which there were plenty. I don’t need that kind of stress in my life.

4. It’s so, so sad. Sure, they have non-fat fruit-based options and sorbets and fresh fruit toppings, but I’m not in the target market for that. Chocolate yogurt + candy + more candy + hot fudge sauce = what I had. That is not dinner. It sounded like a good idea at first, but once you’re in line between two 12-year olds, spooning M&Ms onto your “dinner” in your work clothes, the word “sad” begins to suggest itself.

5. The Inevitable Sugar Crash. When you eat candy for dinner, you’re about 2 hours away from a nap. And if that’s right around the time you’re supposed to be rushing a stage every 5 minutes to vie for a spot in a scene…it doesn’t work.

6. The Internal Mom Voice. To whatever extent this could ever have been a fun experience, it was ruined by the responsible voice in my head that sounds suspiciously like my mother. An endless loop of “Young lady, you know very well that you are not allowed to have frozen yogurt for dinner!” will buzzkill the whole thing. Even 7-year old me was starting to feel guilty about it towards the end.

…but I was wrong; I could only come up with 6.  

Cake-astrophic FAIL

For once in my life, I am not on a diet. The amazing thing is that I haven't needed to be on a diet for a while, because I'm currently riding a wave of productivity that has resulted in less stress-/boredom-eating and helped to me slim down quite by accident.

The biggest obstacle I face, then, is stress/boredom. Unfortunately, the Universe's Epicenter of Stress/Boredom happens to be located right on top of my desk at my day job. So I thought there might be trouble yesterday morning, when someone (probably a convicted war criminal) left a sheet cake out in the staff break room. It looked like someone had taken about 2 bites out of it. It was HUGE. It was covered in white icing with purple flowers, and it said "CONGRATULATIONS! CLASS OF 2011! You earned it, [who cares]!" Obviously this was potentially a problem, but I reminded myself that it was 8:30 in the morning - surely an inappropriate time to have cake. Ah yes. 8:30 yesterday morning: the last time I exhibited any level of decorum.

I went about my day and hoped the cake would be gone soon. Each time I went to the break room, I saw that a little bit more had been hacked away. Having been too lazy to cook and too drunk to grocery-shop Sunday night, I hadn't packed a lunch for myself, so I ended up going to Taco Bell.

As I made my run for the border, I debated silently in my head. I wanted a 7-Layer Burrito, but I knew I shouldn't have one. Then again, I figured *one* indulgence wouldn't kill me, and besides, it was only 130 calories more than my usual Bean Burrito. I decided to go for it.

I remember getting back to my desk. I remember unwrapping the burrito. But from the moment the scent hit my nostrils, I went into overeating blackout mode. When I came to, I was looking at this:

The horror.

Apparently, having finished my big fat fatty burrito, I decided to have some of that cake after all! And since there weren't any plates, I just reached for the nearest conveyance - a coffee mug, which I crammed full of cakey goodness! And I sat at my desk, cheerfully eating my mugful of cake - with a spoon - as if it were the most normal thing in the world. On the one hand, I'm proud of myself. After all, this shameless display is surely an indication that I am secure with myself on a brand new level. I mean, Lady Gaga has done some weird shit, but have you ever seen her eat a stranger's graduation cake out of a coffee mug? NO YOU HAVE NOT. On the other hand, I went into work yesterday morning as a single woman who lives alone with her cat. I left work yesterday afternoon as a single woman who lives alone with her cat and eats cake out of coffee mugs...and blogs about food way, way, WAY too often.

Lunch American Style

For Mother's Day this year, we took my mom to the local Maggiano's. I only live a few minutes away, but I never eat there since 1) it's expensive and 2) I've had two disastrous relationships start there, and I'm not keen to make it three. Fortunately, I feel sufficiently secure in my relationship with my parents that I felt comfortable risking it. I don't think they're going to dump me for another girl, though I can't say I'm 100% sure. ANYWAY.

I wanted to try something other than my usual ravioli filled with 2% mushrooms and 98% cheese, in a cheesy alfredo sauce with cheese on top and a side of cheese, so I was perusing the menu more carefully than usual when I saw this:

Ah yes. The American obesity epidemic is alive and well. You've just ordered enough fat, carbs, and salt to  clog the arteries of a family of four, so you'll obviously be wanting to double up. I felt like I couldn't POSSIBLY have read that right (although it *would* explain how they figured they could charge $13 for eggplant parmesan, because really?). Sure enough, when the waitress came to take our orders, and I asked for something off this part of the menu, she followed up with: "...and what would you like for your second entree?"

Maggiano's, I love you, but that question is absurd.

In other news, my entire blog is apparently going to be about food, just like the rest of my life.