The Trip: Destination

I'm a lazy blogger, blah, blah, blah. Taking into account how busy my vacation was, this blog has been abandoned for three weeks now. Our trip to California was nothing short of glorious. Though we did not eat all of the foods we would have wanted, or seen all the things we would like to have seen, it was an action-packed, non-stop, thigh-muscle spasm inducing thrill ride! I won't go on and on about every detail, because frankly it's boring. Touching upon a few points of interest wouldn't hurt, though.

Seeing my family is always a liberating experience. I feel so free to be myself and still, at my age, I feel completely protected. My family can kick your families ass all the way to Echo Parque, ese. There was minor drama, which I both expect and enjoy dipping into to remain relevant, but it brushed away as quickly as it came. My fiance was even given the chance to meet my grandfather, the last of my grandparents. The gathering was quiet but honest. Watching my parents, sisters, aunts, nieces--family--with my fiance was a thing to behold. There was no handling with kid gloves or stand-offedness on anyone's part. It was open. It was welcoming. It was comfort and acceptance at its deepest and most meaningful. This is why I love my family...and it's obvious they love us, too. Was it difficult to leave again? How do you say goodbye to Paris only to return to Detroit?

Missing my high school reunion proved to be a wise decision. After all, aren't reunions glorified pissing contests where no one cares how many children you have, or what the past ten years of education and/or life-experience have taught you; they want to know if you have ugly, stupid children that their kids will ultimately rule, and if you've been laid off from the graveyard shift at the Circle K while they enjoy careers selling homes to people who can't afford it...like you. Is this a bleak view of what should be considered a joyous occasion? Yes. But my bleak views are usually right. That being said, there are the few, the platoon, the ones who did in fact impact your formative years...your friends. Have you seen them? Have you kept in touch? Do you live mere miles away and only see them, by chance, across the intersection waiting for the light to turn green and hope that they glance in your direction so that you can feel caught up? Thank goodness for Facebook, right? Yes...when put to good use. This is what we did. Utilizing Facebook, and the sea of familiar faces out there in its cyber clutches, I managed to gather a group of twenty or so of the people with whom I shared up to seventeen years of memories with out of my young life for dinner. Three hours from one day out of over a decade. It began with one, my dear friend Arika--the pregnant at the time beauty who I hadn't seen in about nine years. Then came Brandon, Annique, and the list rolled on. Most people I hadn't seen since I was a morbidly obese teenager. As we sat at the dinner table that, much to the chagrin of the management, kept growing there was an energy of comfort and ease...and smiles. So many smiles. This is the polar opposite experience I would have expected from the frozen, perfectly plastic name-tagged version of a reunion which had been formerly produced by everyone's favorite beauty queens. Bodies floated, food was shared, no one kept still for too long because there were too many people we actually cared about that required face time. Three hours...this is what we allotted to ourselves. Reality states that it'd be impossible to maintain each and every one of these friendships on any level other than casual, given to account that there are children to be tended to, careers to sustain, and countless other "adult" requirements to fulfill--however, this handful of hours were ours to gloat, to share, and to remember why we'd ever become friends in the first place. It was magic. The best kind.

Visiting home this time would take on a new meaning. Since I was not coming alone, bringing the most important person in my life to the places where I grew up as a child and as a young adult, I made the conscious decision to view these relics of my past in a new light--in a way I hadn't viewed them in so long...as a tourist. We spent day after day scouring San Diego and all it had to offer, from Balboa Park to Pacific Beach. If we didn't have the time to do at least we saw. We did manage to take a day aside for a gay couples outing with two of my favorite women, Juliet and Becky. They treated us to a day at the world famous San Diego Zoo--one of my favorite places on earth. The animals flocked towards us all day, for some odd reason. Maybe they knew I loved them. Who knows. We were also introduced to the new baby in their life--their home. One dreams of owning such beauty. Lord knows I do. But not just yet. I introduced my fiance to as many corners of my former world as possible. Was this for his enjoyment, his enrichment? Was this my way of absolving myself from my past by turning those dark corners into bright new ones by seeing them not as I once did but now through his new eyes? Or, was this tour of my city a way for him to understand me better? Understand why I am the way I am. All of the above, albeit some more conscious than others (until now). Watching him react to the most inane of things dragged me out of my jaded cocoon and peeled the calloused layer off my eyes and allowed me to enjoy San Diego in a whole new way. I was happy that he was happy. Mostly, my happiness relies upon his own, and of this I am not ashamed but honored. San Diego is a beautiful city.

Though San Diego is my cradle of life and contains my strongest connection to the west, my family, Los Angeles peaked my interest most. I hadn't seen LA as a tourist for over six years now, and within that span of time Los Angeles had gone in my mind from a wonderland of newness and possibility to a mecca of hurt. I'd experienced so much darkness there. So much light, but so, so much darkness. Seeing LA through Mickey Mouse sunglasses was exactly what I needed to finally exorcise me of my past. We stayed with my ever reliable and beloved friend Tina, who was along with us for the ride as we visited popular tourist sites that she as a resident doesn't even patronize. We were also lucky enough to spend an evening with Chris, one of the few people in my life who was pivotal in my acceptance of who I am. We shared tapas in Santa Monica and then a walk on the pier at night. My fiance had only seen it in films before. Isn't it exhilarating to make a memory somewhere you'd formerly only known on celluloid? After visiting the likes of the La Brea Tar pits (incredible), an exhibit on contemporary Korean artists at the LACMA (awe-inspiring), the farmers market, the Prada flagship store, and viewing two superb films in the city that funded them (500 Days of Summer, and District 9) we were ready to leave LA for our final major destination of the trip: Disneyland.

Where do I want to get married? Disneyland. Lay the judgment on me like coats at a party, but that will not sway me. Where else does magic and fun revert even the coldest of people to their childhood (except maybe Disney World)? I am a grown man, still growing, and welcome each year openly. Yes, I be one of the few who actually enjoys the wonder that is aging. Yet I am infused with new life with the youthful, innocent, whimsical fare that animation have to offer. I love Disney. I love cartoons. I love toys and playing with them. Disneyland is one huge playground for literally people of every age. In this place my fiance and I walked hand in hand and surprisingly were never looked upon with a sour glance, or treated with ill-will. In this place, the populous are hopped-up on sugar, on adrenalin--high on memories and flashbacks of innocent times when ticket prices were reasonable and the Hall of Presidents was still 'whites only.' Store attendants gave us pins to commemorate our anniversary, and our day was thus filled with well-wishes from Disney staff and strangers alike. A woman, busy tending to her child in his stroller, offered to take our picture for us in front of the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad as she held onto the stroller with her leg. Where does this happen? In this place we felt like two children, able to do anything our tiny hearts desired. I watched my fiance playing with Lego's aside a group of children. Quietly, I watched them, sorting through pieces--wondering what they would build, what they could build. The gears in their brains were visible and they silently toiled around this bucket of plastic pieces. This is how I know I love him. I watched him as the fireworks display distorted the sky in smoke and light. His mouth spread open in awe and surprise. He'd never seen such a thing. Imagine never having seen an intricate fireworks display until your adulthood? I imagine it must be like discovering plutonium. I watched him react, physically and vocally, to the Fantasmic show of mist and fire. He marveled at it almost as excitedly as the chubby girl in front of us in the High School Musical Cheerleading uniform. Unashamed. This is why I love him. Our hearts are one and the same: adults quietly building upon our youth, but not silencing it. This is why I love Disneyland.

One last day in San Diego provided us with the time to absorb as much family affection as we possibly could, not to mention my mothers cooking. We spent most of the afternoon in the swimming pool with my father, my niece, and my aunt and uncle. We don't get to do that very often. As the day winded down, we finished packing and made sure that all was in order. The only thing left unattended were our feelings; we didn't want to leave, but ultimately we had to.

Thank God for airplanes (and the Wright brothers).

Recycled Air

Airplanes are about as sterile as a bottom at an Eastern European orgy. Listening to people cough up small babies, burp, and attempt the occasional fart does the opposite of make me comfortable in this small, enclosed space that we'll share for countless hours. Most of the time, I'd rather make out with a stranger infected with mono. Mono happens to be one hell of a diet. However, the idea of hitting the stratosphere in a metal contraption is pretty cool isn't it? If I'm not too busy falling asleep, praying against my death, or gently grazing the body of the possibly hot person next to me, I ponder the wonder of cracking through the sound barrier and essentially traveling back in time (when traveling from Korea to California). I wish it was as glorious as it sounds, but it isn't. Losing a day on the way back is as equally annoying as the recycled air in the cabin, but I digress. And funk what ya mama told you, airplane food is bomb. You get a roll AND dessert. That's bread times two. It's about time to go now, and soon my beloved and I will be landing in San Dieger. My family will meet us at the airport and either, a) cry b) be overly affectionate or c) ask us if we're hungry. I think we all know the answer to that question. Let the feeding frenzy begin.

Lazy am I.

It's obvious to anyone who reads this blog (a number which is most-likely nearest to 1) that I am a lazy blogger.  Updating this blog is something easily done on a day to day basis, seeing as I spend countless hours fawning over Facebook while at work and home.  What's clear to me now is that I must refocus my words to this page, where I can keep a log of the things I say...because sometimes those passing comments are comical masterpieces!  Well, not so much, but I'd never know because I lose those comments with every status update I waste on Facebook.  And fuck Twitter, seriously.  A website dedicated to one-liners?  Blatant self-promotion that I have no interest partaking in.  Admittedly, my father did coax me into joining and a minute pang of guilt hits me every day that I don't log on to Twit him.  But I am comfortable with the idea that he utilizes it even less than I.  In other news, my boyfriend and I will be leaving to San Diego in two days to visit my family and friends.  We'll make a short pilgrimage to Los Angeles and Anaheim to defile Disneyland for a weekend.  As my prior two posts would suggest, food is the focus of the trip.  I'd love to be a romantic and say it's family, friends, or nostalgia that pulls at me like a hook to a fish--but I'm a simple, hungry person.  This is a food parade, and if someone dies along the way--it will not have been in vain.  Stay tuned.

Food, Food, and More Food: Los Angeles Edition

The time is growing painfully near when I can once again step upon the freeing yet claustrophobic confines of the vessel that will deliver my beloved and I to yet another travel destination. Ah, yes, Incheon International Airport--I can smell you now, with your plethora of 'dericious' meal options, and your fabled Smoothie King, which I can never seem to find. Only two days stand between us, and it is utter torture! Weeks ago I made a similar posting in regards to restaurants I hoped/planned/dreamed about patronizing once in my hometown of San Diego. Now it's time to brainstorm about my second 'hometown'...Los Angeles. A far larger city, boasting some of the best restaurants and chefs in the world, eating the way I fantasize about will be a daunting task to say the least...and one I may not be able to afford. So, in the spirit of being cheap, not a food-elitist, and having a strongly opinionated stomach--I'm going to name not the best eats in Los Angeles but those I wish to contribute to my escalating cholesterol score. (Again, I am limiting this list to 10 establishments, in no particular order): 10. Porto's Bakery http://www.portosbakery.com/home.htm Cuban food seems to be popular these days; with several people saying it rivals Mexican food. Well, I think those people are pretentious boobs with stale taste buds. But all that aside, Porto's Cuban bakery is the type of food that's worth the calories. Not because it's a culinary marvel, and not because the flavors in their dishes are complex and new. The secret to their success is this: fry everything. Fried food is amazing. I've even had a fried starfish (in China, not Porto's) and you'd swear it was chorizo. And speaking of chorizo, the chorizo pie is to die for, not to mention my personal favorite--the potato ball. It's a ball of mashed potatoes filled with spicy ground beef and deep-fried. Need I say more? Besides the fried favorites, which run you mere dollars apiece, are some of the most incredible sandwiches. Aside from serving everyday daily sandwiches (far better than what you'd find at your local Quizno's), they also tempt with more traditional choices. They include Pan con Bistec (Cuban steak sandwich), Pan con Lechon (roasted pork sandwich--also my favorite), and the popular Medianoche (midnight) sandwich, which basically has a bit of everything...much like one would construct for a midnight snack. Just in case you were wondering, because Lord knows I was, there is in fact a potato ball sandwich. 9. Roscoe's Chicken & Waffles http://www.roscoeschickenandwaffles.com/ If you're cringing at the sound of this combination, do not judge so quickly. I'm not sure there's been a better marriage since cookie and ice cream sandwiches (we'll get to that later). Roscoe's serves up some of the best soul food in Southern California, although admittedly I've had better in Compton but for reasons beyond my control it's far less attainable. A tad overpriced due to extreme popularity (on any given day you can be eating next to Snoop Dog), but the portions and flavor make up for that minor inconvenience. If you're a newbie, order a Carol C Special, which comes with a succulent fried chicken breast and delicious waffle. Simple, and it gets the point across. That's usually my meal of choice, but I of course add a side of greens, macaroni and cheese, and corn bread. If I'm really hungry, I'll also throw in a plate of scrambled eggs with cheese and onions. If you're a bit more adventurous, try the fried chicken omelet. Again, sounds wrong but couldn't be more right. My computer keys are currently covered in saliva. 8. Crustacean Beverly Hills http://www.anfamily.com/Restaurants/crustacean_beverlyhills/displaypages/homepage.html Food elitism is probably more annoying than people who argue about what constitutes punk rock, but that doesn't mean all fine dining must wear this scarlet letter. When I feel the splurge coming on and do want an incredible meal with the bill to match (and I'm in LA), no place comes close to Crustacean. Located at the border of Little Santa Monica and Beverly Hills, this French-Vietnamese fusion restaurant is hands down some of the best food I have ever had in my entire life. The prices range from affordable to "oh yea, I'm in Beverly Hills," but no matter what you order--it's going to be amazing. Walking in is an experience in itself, with an aquarium pathway that gives the illusion that one is walking on water. Once in the main dining room, the bamboo and wicker furnishings and fans feel as if you're dining in a swanky version of some Indiana Jones adventure. Much like the name suggests, the focus of the cuisine if seafood. My personal favorites are the Salmon Tartar, and Rice Ho-Fun Ravioli with pacific prawns, braised fennel, caramelized shallots and soy-sesame emulsion. The most famous dish, however, which is on the sides menu are the AN's Famous Garlic Noodles. When I expressed my orgasmic-reaction to the noodles to my waitress, she said people who work and live in the area forego the more gastronomical dishes on the menu for these noodles--often ordering them in bulk. I kid you not, there's crack in these noodles. 7. Eat Well http://www.boorah.com/restaurants/CA/west-hollywood/eat-well-west-hollywood/1EDC76BCB8.html I'll keep this one short buy sweet. This is the kind of restaurant you go to for a lot of food at a reasonable price. Los Angeles is teeming with cafes and diner-style eateries, all with their own gimmick and celebrity clientele to draw attention and patronage. Eat Well is on that short list of cafes that has opened and remained opened, despite LA's constant fickleness. The singular reason for which I frequented this cafe when I lived mere minutes from it off Sunset was what they call 'The Big Mess.' It's exactly what it sounds like--one big mess of food. Eggs, spicy sausage, potatoes, avocado, jalapenos, and whatever else they have on hand that day. Add a bit of ketchup, hot sauce, maybe a touch of sour cream and side of wheat toast and you've got an hours worth of spectacular goodness at your fingertips. The sad thing is, it doesn't really last an hour...despite the huge helping. 6. Sprinkles http://www.sprinkles.com/ Sprinkles is like the IKEA of cupcake bakeries. The cupcakes are moderately priced (for Beverly Hills), the value/flavor of the pastries are far above their price-point, and they happen to be incredibly stylish little confections. Rare is the day when a line of hungry customers isn't wrapping around the block. The shop is small, compact, and quite efficient. Boasting such flavors as Banana, Chai Latte, Peanut Butter Chip, Pumpkin, and Ginger Lemon, they must keep a daily schedule of flavors to keep track. Yes, you can actually schedule which days you visit. Try the Red Velvet cupcake. A description wouldn't do it justice. Let's just say it's probably what kissing Angelina Jolie must be like. Even better, they sell ready-packaged mixes to take home and bake if you can't stick to your cupcake schedule. Empty luggage prepared for this reason. 5. Diddy Riese http://www.diddyriese.com/home.php The busiest establishment on the list also happens to be the cheapest. Located in UCLA's Westwood Village, this is the spot everyone seems to stop into on their way from/to dinner. In fact, I have been there at various times of day and must always wait an average of 20 minutes to reach the register to deliver my painstakingly conceived order. This is the way it works: you choose two flavors of cookies (chocolate chip, snicker-doodle, white chocolate chip, oatmeal, candy, and quite a few more), and a flavor of ice cream (cookie dough, rocky road, mint chocolate chip, strawberry, and so many more) and an ice cream sandwich is constructed for you in mere seconds for the price of $1.50. Now the first time I visited it was only a dollar, but the 50-cent increase is not a bother. The cookies are delicious, the ice cream is Dreyer's, and you can order cookies at 35 cents a piece for an after sandwich digestif. It's a cheapskates dream come true...hence mine. 4. Toi http://www.toirockinthaifood.com/sunset/index.html There are cheaper and more accessible Thai restaurants in LA. In fact, there are so many options in the Thai market that it's a wonder how they all remain open year after year. What Toi has is a gimmick, and that leaves a lasting memory. Memories equal loyal clientele. Toi is like the CBGB's of Thai food in LA. The menu is virtually the same you'll find anywhere else, but the portions are arguably larger. Larger portions are a happy-maker. The reason I return time and time again, besides the ultra-cool rock and concert poster-laden walls and dirty-rock decor, is the Tom Kha Kai. A rather popular dish with Thai enthusiasts, combining chicken, coconut milk, and lemon grass--this soup is so good you'll want to bathe in it. The bowl is big enough, to boot. I've had this soup at several restaurants, all around the world--and not one has touched Toi's masterful take on it. Go for the Thai, stay for the concert video on the widescreen tely. 3. Real Food Daily http://www.realfood.com/ Similar to the list I compiled for San Diego, I will again include a vegetarian restaurant to fulfill the ex-vegan in me. Not all vegetarian restaurants are created equal. With whole food, raw food, macrobiotic, and everything else there is out there these days (rampant in LA), it's never clear whether you'll be receiving an actual meal or the assumption of one. Real Food Daily offers an interesting and exceptional dining experience for both health food enthusiasts and those curious to see if the grass is truly greener in Gwyneth Paltrow's garden. With the basic starters such as salads, hummus, and spring rolls, one can also sample something a bit more daring such as the Lentil-Walnut Pate with tofu sour cream, carrots, celery, cucumber, and wheat-free rice sesame crackers. My personal favorite entree is the Total Reuben, made with tempeh, tofu cheese spread, sauerkraut, thousand island dressing, on sourdough rye bread. It's incredible how closely the flavor is matched to its meaty counterpart. For this reason, their meticulous focus to meat-flavored detail, RFD seldom fails to satisfy even the hungriest hunter. 2. Zankou Chicken http://www.zankouchicken.com/ In the chicken game, we Mexicans in the Southeast have El Pollo Loco. It's nothing more than flame-broiled chicken with Mexican spices, with pseudo-traditional sides to compliment the deliciously prepared chicken. In the Los Angeles and Orange County area, a taste of the Mediterranean can be found that easily knocks El Pollo Loco onto its chooky knees. Proudly established in Lebanon, this rotisserie chicken has to be the most succulent, juicy, and masterfully seasoned chicken one could ever find in a fast food setting. With low prices to tempt passersby, once the chicken has been taste-tested you'll never go anywhere else. Sides usually include hummus, pita, and a garlic butter that is worth the acne. What's most inviting about this food is that it's pure Mediterranean cuisine, without the corporate flavor of the Greek chain restaurants. With falafel, shish kebab, and shewarma also on the menu, one can return time and time again without ever losing interest. Zankou Chicken, I love you. 1. Jinky's Cafe http://www.jinkys.com/ I have indeed saved the best for last. Jinky's Cafe is on that ever growing list of restaurants catering to the breakfast-starved, who want their eggs and bacon all day long. Bare in mind that this is a giant leap above the throwaway diners located anywhere and everywhere. Eggs, breakfast meat, and assorted griddle favorites are easily made and easily liked almost anywhere one may find them. What sets Jinky's apart is their ambitious and often genius menu. For example, six different types of Eggs Benedict? Really? Lox Benedict, Hash Eggs Benedict, Crab Cake Benedict...the list continues. Being an Eggs Benedict fiend myself, I have sampled each and every one on several occasions and each is a wonder in its own way. There are also over twenty ways to order your egg-meal, from a simple choice of eggs/choice of meat option, to an array of omelets--some that include spicy 'Voodoo sausage.' What keeps me coming back is their, drum roll please, pancakes. Yes, I am a fatty and I love a flat, fried slice of dough covered in preserves and/or maple syrup. Now, when that list includes Pumpkin, Chocolate Chip, Tropical, and Banana-Macadamia Nut pancakes it's needless to say you're going to leave happy. I patiently look-forward to departing from their Sherman Oaks location in about a week, with a face-on much like a fat child at a Costco-catered birthday party. To my friends in Los Angeles, if you'd like to partake in any of these binge-fests, please do not hesitate to contact me. And my fellow San Diegans, the same goes for you. Check out my previous blog and let's get our eat on. My pants have been feeling far too loose as of late.

Food, Food, and More Food

Despite the fact that I recently spent nine glorious days in Hawaii with my parents and fiancé, I can't begin to express my glee in having secured moderately priced tickets to venture to my home-city of San Diego. I suppose my biggest joy in the matter is that this time around there's the added bonus of introducing my betrothed to the place which I once called home for twenty-three years. Family introductions will be made, same with friends and attractions will be patronized--but call me fat, hungry, or simply gastronomically challenged...but what I look forward to most is the food. Here's a list of ten establishments that I can't wait for us to gain weight at. (In no particular order) 10. Rancho's Natural Foods http://www.ranchosnaturalfoods.com/ For a matter of years, I joined that small and ever-so judgmental group of people who call themselves 'vegans.' Apparently anything that doesn't include making a Parakeet a deity is a violation of some animal right. Granted, some vegans do great work and should be applauded. However, I'd say they who've made the greatest strides are those that have made vegan food not only edible, but enjoyable. Rancho's has achieved that by making, what I consider, San Diego's best vegetarian option is dining. Virtually any Mexican dish you can imagine is available for either veggies or vegans, and the flavor and authenticity does not take a back seat. If you want delicious, healthy, Mexican food with a twist--Rancho's is your haven. 9. In-n-Out http://www.in-n-out.com/ I don't care if it's a chain. It happens to be a chain not available in Korea, or most of the United States for that matter. For me, these are hands-down the best burgers and fries (on a budget) in San Diego. Not too big, not too greasy, and the fries taste like crispy, salted rain from potato-heaven. I'll take a double-double, fries (animal style), and grilled cheese on the side. Dear God... 8. Carnitas Uruapan http://tinyurl.com/mdcejq Though my Abuelo happens to make the best carnitas (braised or roasted pork pieces) ever created, this restaurant (unfortunately in the middle of nowhere) has some kick ass carnitas. Every time I visit this restaurant I usually gorge myself to the point of gastritis. Such delicious pain. It’s always packed full of people, usually huge families, and the vibe reflects it. People always say, “Terrible service, great food.” In Uruapan’s case it’s great service, scrumptious food. 7. Zorba's Greek Buffet http://www.zorbasgreekbuffet.com/ When I visited the Greek island of Corfu I managed to gain 5 lbs in five days. How did I do it? On the "Eat As Much Delicious Greek Food As You Possibly Can Diet." Can't make it all the way out to Greece? You're in luck! If you're in the San Diego area, take a short trip down to Broadway in Chula Vista and partake in the incredible feast at Zorba's. It can borderline on My Big Fat Greek Wedding schmaltz, but you quickly look beyond that. I promise you--they will have to ask you to vacate your table. 6. Hash House A-Go-Go http://www.hashhouseagogo.com/ I love when the plate is so big you could bathe in it upon completing your meal. This is why I love Hash House. Yet not only are their portions ridiculously overstated, this brand of comfort food makes you forget about dieting and remember why American's are fat to begin with. Breakfast at Hash House resembles a fancy truck stop, where the food looks messy but tastes like what you'd want to eat before hitting the electric chair. Adding a sprig of fresh Rosemary, and a big, buttery biscuit to the meal elevates it to orgasmic proportions. Lunch and dinner are also meals to revel in...But I put my money on the morning hash. It gets quite busy, though waiting in line has never been more rewarding. 5. Yokozuna's Bar & Islander Grill http://www.yokozsd.com/ My family may be Mexican, and we may eat every single part of the cow, goat, chicken, or (insert bloody animal here)--but we love us some sushi. We roll into sushi joints and clean the place out, like a family of bears when the salmon never stood a chance. And I'm not talking rolls, like most poseurs order. Slabs of fish are what our hearts desire. Making the visit to Yokoz that much sweeter is the islander flare, and Polynesian options. From Hawaiian to Guamanian--their menu is eclectic and in a very tasty way. Try the Stuffed Tomatoes. The absence of tomato will be a pleasant surprise. 4. Jyoti Bihanga http://www.jyotibihanga.com/index.htm Serving you a healthy slice of crazy, from Spiritual Master Sri Chinmoy himself. This small and humble restaurant is run by a group (cult) of Yogi's, in the hopes of promoting peace, bliss, and health through culinary creativity (and poorly-worded pamphlets). This was a major treat in my vegan days, and upon patronizing it further as a full-blown carnivore I came to find that the food was indeed delectable if not ambitious. There best seller is the ‘Neatloaf,’ Meatloaf's far-less barbaric cousin. It's made of rice, and beans, and other such grains--and tastes incredible. The visit alone is worth your time. Viewing yogi's in their natural habitat is not a daily occurrence. Bring a camera. 3. Filippi's Pizza Grotto http://www.realcheesepizza.com/ The URL says it all: real cheese pizza. I've had other selections on their menu, such as the lasagna, and eggplant parmigiana (oddly enough, better than the one I had sitting in front of the Coliseum in Rome)--but their pizza is what puts them on the map. The crust is crunchy yet doughy. The sauce isn't too heavy, and not sweet like the bottled variety. And the cheese...oh...the cheese. You need a separate plate just to catch the extra cheese. Very much a family restaurant, with a good old-fashioned mobster feel--and make sure not to leave without having a cannoli. You’ll kick yourself in the calzone. 2. Extraordinary Desserts http://www.extraordinarydesserts.com/index.htm Without a doubt the most innovative dessert restaurant I have ever encountered. I worked there, once upon a time, in the days where I was heavier and quite the kleptomaniac. Needless to say, there were always cakes and other treats around the house because of me. Karen Krasne, the mastermind behind this patisserie, brings inspiration from her favorite destinations: Morocco, Bali, Thailand, Hawaii, and Paris--and creates works of art that are debatably more greatly enjoyed in your mouth than before your eyes. And with a newer, larger space opened in 2004, she brings new temptations such as imported cheese plates, wines, panini's, salads, and the most incredible gourmet grilled cheese sandwiches I've ever had. This is worth being fat for. 1. Tacos El Gordo http://tinyurl.com/mrxtyr Give me tacos, and loads of them. I want back, neck, tongue, tail, intestines, and brains. These greasy little things are the perfect way to satisfy a hunger like mine; having been denied real Carne Asada here in the glorious land of Galbi. I'll order buckets of them and I won't share. This is the ultimate guilty pleasure, and one hell of a way to burst an artery. Make me (more) ‘gordo’…gladly. Next up: my list of Los Angeles eateries I can't wait to plow into.

America the Shameful

You know, yesterday was one of the only days in my entire life that I was proud to be an American. I have never been a patriotic person, and having been brought up in a predominantly Mexican culture I have always felt a certain distance from the "American way."It's not until now that I am, again, ashamed to be American. How can so many people be THAT ignorant? They spout out words and phrases that they regurgitate as to not have to break a sweat in thinking about the human quality of what they speak. They do not stop for one second to understand that what they are saying, and the movements and decisions they are making for others is detrimental to a strangers quality of life.There are people celebrating today because it took over two hundred years for a black man to even be taken seriously as a possible candidate for the US presidency. There are also people crying, hurting, wondering if the marriage vows they uttered only so few months ago will disapparate as if it were only a dream (the best dream I've ever heard of).I'm so angry I don't know what to do with it. Part of me wants to cultivate this anger, and the anger of others--to come together as one strong front and turn on those who've turned their backs on us. Another part of me wants to understand that things take time, and that the voting patterns show a true hope for the youth of America. I am balancing on a very thin line, and I'm sure I wouldn't be far off from saying that millions of "Americans" feel the same way today.It's almost as if Americans thought, "well, this year we'll throw the Black's a bone...and hey, maybe in the future it'll be time for the gays." I don't want to be in a succession line for charity.I want my rights, damn it!If you voted 'yes' on Prop 8 (or any other anti-gay legislation) and you're reading this, I think you owe me and every other gay person you know, or even don't know an explanation.Why? Why? Please, tell me why you've chosen to deny me and your fellow "Americans" of a common right? Why must we plan YOUR weddings and not attend our own?I miss my family. I am currently living abroad, and I'd hoped that California would prevail in equality and that I'd be able to return to marry the person I wish to love forever.But now I sit here wondering: when I marry my fiance, does that mean I won't be able to reside near my family in California? Is the United States of America going to pay my airfare so that I can see my nieces grow up, feel the embrace of my parents, and be with my grandfather before he passes?I am ashamed to be American today. This "one thing at a time" mentality just isn't good enough for me...Obama or not.Dear God, help me understand.

Happiness and Anger Stew

I cannot express my feeling of elation at the victory of Barack Obama in becoming our new US president. Nervous energy surges through my body, and I am virtually speechless. To win in such a monumental way makes the triumph that much more thunderous--and may all that doubt hear that roar.However, I cannot help but suffer as the pain of anger and sadness fester in my belly, wanting to scream, break windows, slap strangers--something to release the tumor that has been growing within me this past hour.How is it possible that a state as open-minded as California (a state where plastic surgery is common place, and celebutantes like Kim Kardashian and those dense girls from 'The Hills' are adored like deities; a state where the divorce rate is over 50%; a state where Marijuana is legalized for medicinal purposes) could ignore the obvious rape of freedom and justice for all by relegating we, the homosexuals of California, to a lesser role? When did we become a supporting role in the film called "Life," starring the ever-so-powerful heterosexual masses? It just isn't fair.What I feel like is an animal. I feel as if I have just been told that I am not allowed in the house, but to stay in the yard--even if it's raining.What angers me most is the statistics.According to CNN. COM, most age groups were either tied, or did not support Proposition 8. The only group that overwhelmingly supported the measure were those citizens 65 years and older. These are people that have lived there lives and are reaching the end. These are people who have experienced the joys of a wedding day, the trials and triumphs of a legal marriage, the raising of children, and so on. How dare they dictate to us, a new and different and far more understanding generation, how we should live long after they have become dust! It's obvious to me now that the experience of time truly is meaningless. That compassion does not mature or change if your heart and mind already dwell in a state of hatred and biggotry.It's a travesty that this has happened. A cruel joke. What's next? Do we have to wear patches on our sleeves? Stripped pajamas? Well, I'll tell you this much. If we do...it's going to be Prada, and you can all kiss my ass-cot!!!