currylove

Posts Tagged ‘food

So when Philly was here, we went on our bar crawl. After drinking many many many drinks, we decided to take a break for some food.

We found some seats and asked our bartender what he liked better: the tofu tacos or the tofu philly cheesesteak.

He said he liked the tacos, but we blew off his recc and went with the philly.

Out comes our food and I take a big drunken bite.

It’s delicious. I literally thought:

This is the best tofu I’ve ever had!

And then, we looked at the food.

And even looking at it, I couldn’t figure out how they made the tofu so delicious and yummy and …brown.

And then Philly double checked with the bartender that we actually had the tofu version of the cheesesteak and not the beefy version.

Turns out the reason the tofu was so damn delicious was because it was MEAT.

I haven’t had red meat in about 20 years.

OMG. WHAT HAVE I BEEN MISSING?

Now, I’m not reverting to a carnivore any time soon, and I was PISSED about the mix-up. But, we should’ve checked our food and not trust some dummy behind the bar, who chalked it up to ‘miscommunication.’

But what really pissed me off? MORE than being given something I haven’t eaten in two decades?? THE ASSHOLE TRIED TO CHARGE US FOR THE FOOD.

They did replace it with the not-so-delicious tofu version but actually still tried to make us pay.

In my drunken state, I think I said the following:

There is no way in fucking hell that I’m paying for something that I didn’t order and didn’t want to eat.

He took it off the bill but after he acted like WE were in the wrong for even suggesting that it shouldn’t be a charge.

Meanwhile, this has happened before (and I expect it, and I’m typically more careful when I haven’t been drinking for hours at a time) and THAT time? The waitress not only apologized a dozen times to the point where it was uncomfortable, she comped my WHOLE meal, not just the food portion. It’s just decent customer service, you know?

AND OMG.

As I’m typing this out… is this whole mix up a metaphor for my life?!?!!? 

I didn’t want the boring bland Asian food pretending to be something it’s not.

BUT I LOVED THE ALL AMERICAN MEAT.

Maybe I need to be more honest with myself?

I mean, I’m not going back to meat but I don’t enjoy tofu – so why do I keep trying?

And I don’t like dating the Indian boys I’ve met –  so why do I keep trying?

 

 

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And no. That’s not a euphemism for anything.

I am SUPER annoyed at this new trend of putting meat or meat by-products in what used to be meat-free food stuff. You know, like desserts (this, this and even on MasterChef right now, he put bacon in the pie crust).

I was just chatting with a friend about possible restaurant choices for a Girls’ Night Out on Saturday (which for me is just a regular Saturday night out, but the marrieds need a reason to be out) and I checked the menu for one of them (I won’t link the place, just to be fair, since they’re not the only place out there that has a menu geared towards carnivores only).

And, I am sure the food is delish. I have no doubt it’s yummy and awesome and all that. BUT WHY IS THERE DUCK FAT AND BACON IN THE FUCKING FRENCH FRIES?!?!?!?!!? WHHHHHHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?  (And yes, I do hear you answering me: Because it’s AWESOME. I know. It’s my own fault that I choose not to eat animals anymore.)

Also, this whole idea that you can just throw vegetables on a plate and call it ‘dinner’ IS NOT TRUE. It’s actually really damn annoying.  Just because I choose to be vegetarian does not mean that I want to graze like a cow. Especially if I’m drinking. Okra doesn’t soak up alcohol like bread and cheese does, you know?

There are plenty of times that I’ve been out and I literally cannot eat one thing on the menu. And that’s ok, I can usually make do with a drink and dessert. In fact, on a trip to Europe years ago, I literally lived on Kir Royales and desserts, because apparently in France, you can’t get anything without jambon in it. The first few days were fun and it was novel… by the end, I was craving something real (to be clear, I’d already given up beef/pork by that point).

I gave up all meat about 3 years ago because I just felt like I didn’t need it in my diet anymore – I came to the conclusion that I could get a diet I wanted with anything having died in order for me to eat. And once I had that thought in mind, I could no longer eat meat because all I saw on my dish, instead of what used to look soooo enticing and delicious, was a dead carcass. And once that stayed with me, I knew I wouldn’t eat it again. This isn’t to say that I haven’t left my options open — I’m not a militant vegetarian – sometimes I sniff my friend’s plates for that smell of well cooked chicken or steak. But I don’t miss it and I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything by not eating it.

And 0bviously, I don’t expect any restaurant to cater to my dietary needs. But I’m not the only one out there… vegetarianism is growing in popularity, so you would think that any restaurant would have at least ONE option on the menu that doesn’t consist of sides. Telling me I can have 3 choices (let’s say okra, collard greens and grits – we are in the south here) and not offering a protein or a carb AND THEN CHARGING ME $12 to $20 FOR THE LUXURY OF ORDERING IT REALLY PISSES ME OFF.

And, I KNOW it was cooked in lard. Fuck. I’m sure it is. But, I choose not to ask a lot of time –  I go with the policy of “don’t ask, don’t tell” – if I don’t know that the kitchen used chicken or fish stock, I’m not going to go out of my way to find that out. But if I’m with people who ask, or the waitress mentions it, then I won’t order it. I’ve got loose morals all around, we can say 😉

But anyway, I long for the good old days, when you didn’t have to ask if the veggies were vegetarian, and you could assume the dessert didn’t have hidden meat by-products in it.  When my friend A and I used to work together, we’d do a coffee break – sometimes we’d split a little pack of donuts as well. One day, I was reading the ingredients. You know what it had it in? BEEF.

WHY IS THERE BEEF IN MY DONUTS?!!!? WHY!?!?

And then there was the time on KLM where they passed out almonds for a snack – yeah! I ate one, thought it tasted rather “meaty” and then checked the ingredients. WHY IS THERE BEEF IN MY NUTS?!!?! WHY?!

These are questions that really should never have to be asked, and yet, here I am. Asking them. So, seriously – let’s just get back to the basics, can we? Keep the meat out of my veggies. And desserts. And nuts. And I’ll keep sniffing it when I need a hit. I think that’s more than a fair compromise.

 

There were a few more random things I forgot to mention in the previous post….

5) I couldn’t tell if it was the locals or visitors who were engaged in amorous displays of love, but the PDA was everywhere. Seriously. EVERY-FUCKING-WHERE. On the tube, in the park, while walking in front of you on the way to the tube or the park, early in the morning, late at night, at the bar, near the bar, in the bar… it didn’t seem to matter where or what time of day. Maybe seeing all those girls walk around with no pants puts everyone in the mood?

In any case, I’m a single, jaded, bitter, angry fuck-all of a human at times and basically wanted to punch everyone in the face for putting a love that I don’t have on display for me to see. It’s like the Universe is saying: “Oh! You dated a British guy and were supposed to be here with him? LOOK AT WHAT IT WOULD HAVE BEEN LIKE! It would’ve been awesome. You could’ve been loved up all over the city. You could’ve held hands on the tube! You could’ve kissed in Trafalgar Square!  But nope. You’re SINGLE. Sucks for you, CurryLove! SUCKS.FOR.YOU.”

Or you know, it’s just me being sensitive. Whatever.

6) The other thing I meant to discuss is the London love for Potato Wedges. Is this an overall British thing? An English thing? WHY do people choose to buy wedges of potatoes for a snack? Why are these sold instead of just chips (fries)? Aren’t wedges and chips(fries) the same thing, just different cuts of the potato? WHY have I put so much thought into this??

It’s strange, really. We were in Hyde Park to watch the games and there were food trucks everywhere. Lots of food trucks that had lots of meat (example pic below). And lots of people really like all that meat… But I am not one of them. I’m a veggie-eater only. So my options were limited since I didn’t want to have “Britain’s Best Gourmet Burgers.” Luckily, there was a Mexican food truck. And at that truck, I had two options: a veggie burrito (which honestly didn’t sound very good) or Potato Wedges with Cheese.  I chose the cheesey wedges.   Ok… I thought it was going to be the gooey melty cheese we get here. No. It was not. It was shredded some-type-of-cheese on top of wedges.  And since the wedges weren’t hot, the cheese didn’t melt, which essentially meant it just fell off the top of the wedges as we walked back to our seats. Not the best thing I’ve ever had. Not even close.

You know the other option for toppings for the wedges? Refried beans and sour cream… you know what that’s usually on top of??? NACHOS.  Why did they take YUMMY Mexican food and make it … not yummy English food? WHY?  And who actually wants beans on top of their potatoes? I don’t understand. At all.

On the bright side of all of this, the guy serving in the truck was incredibly fucking hot. I have no pictures to prove it, but just trust. He was.

 

Watching Andy Murray play on the BIG screen at Hyde Park

I tried to get my friend to pose with her mouth open underneath this sign, but she refused. Spoil sport.

 

 

 

 

So I haven’t met anyone from Match yet – sent out a few emails to guys I thought were interesting and….. Do you hear the crickets? Not one response. And I’m even showing some (slight) cleavage in my picture… AND YOU KNOW HOW BIG THEY ARE! Fucking hell. If that’s not gonna work, I’m shit out of ideas.

I did get a couple of emails from guys who liked me. Siiiiiiiiiiggggggggggghhhhhhhhh.  None are really my type but since beggars can’t be choosers and all that, I chat with a few of them.  A nice seeming Muslim guy wants to go to dinner this weekend, but I don’t know if I should. Being open is one thing, bringing home a Muslim boy is still a massive no-no in this Hindu family, so what’s the point? I don’t want to lead him on, and I don’t want new friends.  I may just put it off till I get back from LONDON(!!) and hopefully he’ll be with someone else. Perhaps Match will work better for him than it does for me.

This other guy (white) emailed, and I know he’s just trying to make conversation and making a joke off my username, but he actually said this:

             “Would you mind if I called you my mango lassi (assuming we get to the point where it’s even remotely appropriate?)”

Um… no. That’s never going to be fucking appropriate. And also, it’s been 2 emails. Calm your shit down.  On the plus side, at least his grammar is correct.  (This is a mango lassi.)

There’s this fine territory when dating/talking to non-Indian guys… you’re either:

A) just a cool person that they like because of who you are (you know, like a normal relationship) OR

B) you’re this exotic conquest and they have to tell you how much they know about YOUR culture and food and about the time they went to Mumbai (because, you know, it’s not Bombay anymore, even though that’s what we still call it) and how fuckin’ cool it was: “Duuuuuuuuuuude… I did yoga on the beach in Goa with just me and my Guru-ji. It was so rad.” Or they talk ad-infinitum about their ex-girlfriend who was Indian and how they know so much about YOU because of HER.  Just… no.  Transferability doesn’t work that way…. OR

C) they go out of their way to prove how much your ethnicity DOESN’T matter.   Even British, when I was in Edinburgh, made sure that I had no illusions about why we had Indian food the last night I was there: it was NOT because I’m Indian, but because HE liked it. Or like the time I went to a comedy club with this guy who made sure I knew it wasn’t because the comedian was Indian, HE had just really wanted to go. You know the old (paraphrased) Shakespearean saying: {The gentleman} Doth protest too much.

I’m going to keep striving to find option A because the rest of it is just too much fucking work.

If only I could find someone like him (in real life, minus the drug problems + a well paying job.)

Ok… that title might be a little misleading… but it’s true! We were at the Highlands for Summerfest and my friend bought ‘all natural, all organic’ dog treats for her pup. According to the bakers (let’s hope to god it’s true), the treats were made with ingredients that people can eat too – one was with peanut butter, the other was a sweet potato muffin.

So the peanut butter one was covered in what looked deliciously like chocolate, but turned out to be carob (since dogs can’t eat chocolate?). YUCK. My mom tried to get us to eat carob when we were little and I’m still completely averse to it. It is such a faker! Looks like chocolate, feels like chocolate, tastes like ass (not that I would know for sure – I don’t do that). It’s not fair to pretend to be something so yummy and end up being so disappointing. At all.

The “muffin” was disgusting too, but mostly because they didn’t use sugar to sweeten it. I bet if they’d poured in the amount of sugar I’m used to, they wouldn’t have been bad!

Let me be clear, we didn’t take big bites of any of this. The ‘bites’ consisted of the smallest crumb I could grab and still get a taste, but I think I’m done experimenting with non-people food.

Guys – Dr. Dallas called and said he wanted to marry me. I said yes.

HA HA. Just kidding.

This is actually about the one good thing that came out of Dr. Dallas’ visit – I fell in love with Atlanta again. You know how it is when you live somewhere so long and everything seems stale and lifeless and you just hate it and think everywhere else in the world is better? Even the huts in the African bush? (Maybe that’s just me…)

Well, taking Dr. Dallas around the city reminded me how much fun it can be here. Consider this your virtual culinary tour of the place I’ve lived for way too long now 😉

Saturday: He got in around dinner time, and because he has to eat every 2 hours or has the vapors, we went straight to get some food — went to Virginia Highlands and had dinner at Surin of Thailand. SO YUM. The Ginger Martini was amazing – totally loved it. After dinner, we walked around (not holding hands, of course, because god forbid we touch) and he noticed a sign for a wine bar at Murphy’s. Murphy’s is known to have the best brunch in town, but I’ve never hung out there. We went to the wine bar, which is literally 6 bar stools at this half-circle and ended up having a fantastic time there! The ‘bartender’ (wine guy?? he wasn’t a sommelier) was awesome and had just come back from living in Cape Town, so we all chatted about that, had fantastic wines and then… the dessert… OMG. The TollHouse Pie is fucking amazing. It’s rich and sweet but not TOO rich or TOO sweet so that it gives you instant diabetes. It was just delicious!

Sunday: Picked him up (yes, I drove him around all weekend AND paid for everything – he did offer, but I figured since he had to buy a plane ticket and hotel, it was only fair) and we went to the Decatur Arts Festival. The first thing we did was look for food, because yeah… We had lunch at Raging Burrito – my quesadilla was really good, and my drink, the Drunken Golfer was even better (Sweet Tea Vodka with Strawberry Lemonade). Walked around the festival, chatted with the artists – he took a lot of business cards since he couldn’t really buy anything, and I ended up purchasing a small piece that ended up in my guest bathroom.

After a brief respite, I picked him back up in the evening and we headed to Inman Park for dinner at Barcelona Wine Bar.  I wanted to sit at the bar (it’s my favorite thing to do) but he preferred an outside table, so there we went. Sunday’s are half-off bottles of wine, and you know I can’t resist – we got an excellent recommendation from the waiter (Godello) and both of us really enjoyed it. Also, service was impeccable. And not in a snooty hoity-toity way, but a really nice, friendly, local type of way (if that makes sense).  Food was great – I love the tapas there and they actually have a really great veggie selection (which was why I chose the place). Dessert again was awesome – I liked the pie better, but the crepes were different and still yummy.

Monday: Our final lunch together — took him to Antico Pizza, and got a simple Margherita Pie. He thought it was the best pizza he’s ever had.  So we’re eating and he says, “I’m surprised it took us this long to get to pizza.”   Me: “Why?”   Him: “Because usually for vegetarians that’s the staple.”

Ok… he knows I am vegetarian too. Why wouldn’t I know the good food options (for me, which means by default him too) in the city I live in? Where did he think I was going to take him? The Brazilian Steakhouse? For a doctor, he’s kind of dumb.

We did the CNN tour before he left – I had forgotten how kind of cool it really is.

So after dropping him off at the airport (we did hug goodbye – the only contact all weekend), I met up with friends to de-stress – my friend picked Tavern at the Phipps. It’s not my favorite place, but I figured I’d get there about 30 minutes after them, so I called in my drink order and expected my rum and coke to be waiting for me when I got there. Um… no.  So, Tavern is a popular place – not because the food is good or the drinks are amazing, but because the girls wear next to nothing. Which is fine – eye candy is never a bad thing for anyone. But when they can’t actually do their job, it’s fucking ridiculous. Like I said, I get there after my friends did and what did they have in front of them?  Waters. Which they had to ask for. And apparently, the waitress had never come back to get any of their orders. We waited 5 more minutes and I couldn’t make eye contact with any of the waitresses that walked by. Apparently, I’m beneath them (although, considering they wear 5-inch heels to serve in, everyone’s beneath them.)

My friend, F, asked one of the girls if we could get some service. Her exact words: “We’re short staffed, so you HAVE to be patient.”

Um, actually, we don’t, bitch. See ya. We left. (Also, there were 4 waitresses and about 6 tables that were taken, so….)  My girlfriend, T, looks around and asks, “Do we have to pay for the waters?” HAHAHA. NO! We do not. Let’s go. Fortunately, this was the only bad service I encountered all weekend, and honestly, that place is notorious for it. And possibly being racist, which if you ask me, played a part in things. It’s hard to prove but we noticed that other people around us, who weren’t the same color as us, were being served…whatever.

At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what you wear while you do your job, but if you can’t actually do said job (which, how hard is it? Take the damn orders and bring out the food), you suck. And if you purposely choose to not wear underwear under your short skirt in order to get more tips, don’t be offended when people look. (But of course, they bring in a rich older-male clientele that tips heavily based on being able to just look, so good for them, I guess.)

We went down to Twist, the bar at the end of the mall. And thank god, because the weekend was saved. We had a fabulous waitress who was attentive and sweet and funny and fun and educated (because we actually talked about that with her!), AND it was half-off bottles of wine! WOO HOO! So we went through two, because I’m a bad influence. 🙂

All in all, it was a great “foodie” weekend, although I use “foodie” loosely. It was a good reminder for me of the eclectic and diverse neighborhoods that are around and how I should take advantage of where I live, instead of being sad about it and wishing I was overseas all the time.

 

ok – the city’s not as pretty as this makes it seem, but hey… let the post-Atlanta love glow last for a few more days before I go back to being mad I live here

 

 

Watched some Norwegian (I think) band play with local musicians at the Mtoni Palace. Completely surreal watching this concert in the ruins of an old palace.

 

 

The Anglican Church in Stone Town, with a mosque just behind it. The church was built on the site of the old slave trade. We went Sunday, so there were services - I couldn't get close to the altar where the old slave whipping post used to be. It was incredibly sad.

 

The chains that held the slaves. This was underneath the church (that was later built on top of the slave trade area) - I'm 5'2", and I had to stay stooped. There was a single slat to let light in, the opposing opening went to the sea. I had slight claustrophobia and I knew I'd be getting out. I cannot imagine what it must have been like for them.

 

The Slave Monument outside the church

 

Heartbreaking

 

A dhow in the House of Wonders - the middle opening is where slaves were held

 

A dhow coming in at sunset

 

Homemade flotation devices. This kid was awesome.

 

Eating at the night market near Stone Town - yummy food, great people and really nice chefs! There was a family that was on holiday, and they took the same route through the market my friend and I did - the wife and daughter would not eat anything. I will never understand people like that - how can you go somewhere so amazing and not even try the food???


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