Date Truffles for the Win

At the beginning of the year I went on a no sugar cleanse. The first couple of days sucked, the withdrawal headaches and mood swings were difficult to deal with. But then by like day three, it really wasn't as hard as I expected. I didn't give up things like milk that had sugar naturally in them, but food made with sugar and all processed food. I was fine until about 10 days in. I was having the most intense cravings for chocolate. It was like the only thing I really missed. I got in a bad habit of sneaking chocolate chips with Noah around 10 in the morning which is when I usually crave sweets. So I found myself dragging my feet around the kitchen opening and closing pantry doors hoping that chocolate would  magically appear. I'm not the only one why does this right?

So then, I was talking to my neighbor, who is an avid cook as well, and she told me that she just throws some dates, raw cacao powder, and almonds into a food processor and makes truffles out of it. Dates are possibly Noah's favorite food (ranked high with avocados, yogurt, chocolate, and ice cream) so I got pretty excited.

I make these date truffles at least twice a week and I have a hard time not eating all of them as I roll them out. Noah stands at my feet while I'm preparing them, begging for "more dates, sir!" These are  indulgent little treats you can enjoy guilt free. In fact, when I was on Weight Watchers I entered this recipe in to calculate my points and it came back as zero points for several truffles. FREE DESSERT while on a diet? Hell yes!

So without further adieu, here's what you do...

Combine about 8-15 pitted medjool dates, a small handful of roasted unsalted almonds (if whole grind alone first to break down, if slivered just throw them in), and 1 tbsp raw cocoa powder in a food processor until they come together and can be formed into bite-sized balls. Depending on how moist the dates are I may at one or two more after blitzing the mixture a few times so that the "dough" comes together. You might add more chocolate too if you use a higher number of dates. Pinch off pieces of dough and roll the balls in unsweetened coconut flakes. Use your hands to press the flakes into the truffle so that it is no longer sticky and the flakes don't fall off. You could also roll them in the cacao powder. I like the texture the coconut flakes give it. And besides I put coconut flakes in almost everything.

Enjoy!

Qout (Farmer's) Market

The brainchild of two local foodies, Noaf Hussein of Pretty Little Things and Budour Al-Qassar of The Oven Experiments, Qout Market was presented by Al-Qassar at the 2012 Middle East-North Africa Active Citizen Sum-mit, organized by the American Council of Young Political Leaders (ACYPL), in partnership with the US State Department. At the end of the summit, Qout Market was selected as a grantee and organization be-gan. The first market was in November 2013.

Qout Market is an outdoor farmer’s market (‘qout’ meaning Arabic for ‘food’) that takes place on the first Saturday of every month until April 2014 (which is the end of the growing season). I was so excited to learn about this as I miss going to the Dupont farmer's market terribly. It wasn't exactly the same, still fresh produce is hard to come by. At least the little that can be produced locally is represented there (and at the grocery stores). Most of the booths feature street food (SO good), fresh flowers, artisanal products (there was a woman selling vintage sunglasses and I almost caved and bought all of them), baked goods, and local programming. There were also things to do with your kids, like purchase baby chickens (no joke) and craft stands.

The next market will be on February 1st - This Saturday! Go early and eat all of the foods - like we did!

Follow @Qoutmarket on Instagram for images and up-to-date information. Use hashtag #qoutmarket if you want to share your pictures from the market.

It’s located on the rooftop of Arraya parking lot and open from 10AM to 7PM. GPS Coordinates: 29.376306, 47.990408.

Candy Orange Slices

When I was a little girl my sister and I used to go over to my grandparents' house. We would go over there often, for entire weekends, and on weekdays after school. No matter how frequent our visits, we always had special little things we did. For instance, we played dress up in my grandmother's silk night gowns and made up dance routines to Disney soundtracks (Beauty and the Beast being a favorite) and Barry Manilow tapes (no snickering, he's awesome). One special treat always sticks out in my mind when I think about those days.

When you walked in the front door of their house the formal living room was to the left. We weren't really allowed to play in there as it was for adult company. The room wrapped around to the formal dining room and then connected to the kitchen, where you would walk if you went straight instead of to the left when you walked in the door. We could run around the entire house in a loop. On the coffee table in the formal living room there was a large glass lidded candy dish. My grandfather was a sucker for orange slice candies and always had the bowl filled with them. For a long time he was the only person I knew who actually ate them (much like finding the person who really likes Peeps or candy message hearts you get on Valentine's Day). I used to run through the room and sneak a slice or two while we were there. I never took too many because I didn't want him to know I was sneaking one of his special candies!

Many years later my grandfather has passed away, the house has been sold, and the candy dish sent to a consignment shop. Sometimes when I'm feeling lonely or I miss him, I'll swing by a drug store and buy a bag of orange slices. I eat them quietly and linger over the crunch of the sugar crystals between my teeth. The gummy texture and artificial orange flavor take back 20 years. While I'm eating them I think about my grandfather and all of our wonderful memories together. 

Do you have any foods that bring your back to your childhood? Any that help you remember your loved ones?

A Dedication to Honey

Honey is one of my favorite ingredients. I say a lot of things are my favorite, but honey really is. Its dependable and so versatile. I like that it can only come from bees and that people across all continents can enjoy their own domestic honey (that's right, its everywhere!) and that the honey's taste reflects the local flora, so its always different. It can be eaten directly out of the comb or strained and packaged. It lasts for years too, not that I've ever experienced that first hand. It can make the perfect addition to a bowl of fruit or take the edge off of a spicy meal. I like to add a touch to my otherwise black morning coffee. 

A few weeks ago I went down to my cousin's house in south Florida. He has a small farm, trapping business, and recently started harvesting honey from his own bees. I was impressed with his ability to take on a new challenge and to do it so well. His honey (pictured) was the perfect souvenir from my visit. I swear I can taste what Florida smells like when I eat it - citrus, fresh cut grass, and wild flowers. He recommended eating it on vanilla ice cream. There's no going back now, my ice cream has gone to a whole new level of delicious. He really should bottle and sell it (maybe through High Heeled Traveler?).

On a side note, bees are apparently non-aggressive when you aren't trying to get their honey. I witnessed another one of my cousins actually pet a bee once and it didn't try to sting him. I almost passed out watching him do it.

Thoughts on Eating Octopus

It was a chilly spring evening in March. The kind we anticipate wearing lighter sweaters and no tights but instead throw on wool coats and closed toed heels. Tammy and I arrived at Brasserie Beck five minutes late. Unusual for us as we always arrive right on time, the first ones to every party. The hostess directed us to our group, most of whom where already waiting at the table. The lovely ladies of Gilt City were hosting us and six other bloggers for a night of fine dinning and a little getting-to-know-you conversation. We all warmly greeted each other, I was so happy to see such familiar faces and looking forward to what the evening held. As we chatted one server took my coat and helped me with my chair, and another offered me a glass of Sauvignon Blanc to start our dinner. I like to start a multi-course meal with this varietal as it usually appeals to many taste buds and goes nicely just about anything usually served to first. It pairs particularly well with cured meat and cheese (including bleu cheeses) and oysters, which is what we were generously served to begin our communal meal.

I realized mid first course that we were in a Belgian restaurant specializing in seafood. I hoped my fear wasn’t detectable on my face. Since I was in the womb I have not had a taste for any creature from the ocean. And by that I mean - if I smell fish I get nauseated and I certainly don’t eat it.

The story starts when my mother was pregnant with me. She is a seafood lover. She loves sushi, grilled grouper sandwiches, scallops in pasta, steamed mussels in butter sauce, raw oysters, and most of all, crab cakes. An ideal meal for her would be a 4 oz. piece of grilled fish with a huge pile of grilled veggies to accompany it. She would eat this meal outdoors in the fresh air with perhaps a glass of chardonnay in hand. It would be near sunset and the landscape would have a golden hue. As if being ripped out of fantasyland and much to her surprise, when she was pregnant with me, she was sick at the mere suggestion of eating seafood. Lucky for her, she was back to normal after I was born. Now, it is common knowledge in my family that I will throw up in a fish market and I cried once when I saw a live lobster thrown into a boiling pot of water.

When I was a little girl, my parents tried to get my sister and I to eat fish sticks. My sister gladly ate them while I could barely gag them down – even though they were fried with delicious breadcrumbs and slathered in ketchup. I went through a phase when I was between 6 and 8 when I would eat Blue Crab legs if we were in a restaurant where they only served seafood. The taste of the ocean lingers in the air in those types of places and overpowers all other flavors. Even the burgers taste like fish. My eating the crab legs was a relief for my parents because my sensitive palate could be accommodated. Then suddenly one day, I hated Blue Crab legs and I haven’t had them in twenty years.

At the age of 16 my family took a trip to the Grand Canyon. We flew out to dude ranch then spent three days rafting down the Colorado River and camping on the banks of the canyon, an incredible experience. There were four college-aged kids in charge of 40 people on our expedition. They cooked everyone three meals a day and set up camp every night. We all slept on cots in the open air and went to the bathroom in a metal bucket that was somehow private while always having the most magnificent views of the canyon. For lunch every day we got tuna salad sandwiches. It was the only choice and if you didn’t eat it you would be mighty hungry when dinner rolled around five hours later. So I ate it. And it was fine. I didn’t gag or whine or embarrass myself. And I thought, maybe my palate changed with adolescence and I like seafood now? Unfortunately, it must have been a time and place type of situation because when I tried to recreate the sandwich at home, I was so disgusted that I ended up giving it to my sister.

As I consider myself a lover of food, I don’t like being limited by my taste buds. I want to be able to participate in life and all of its abundance. At least once a year I try to have something I’ve never eaten before. This usually happens easily when I’m put in similar situations like I was in the Grand Canyon. I’ll be on vacation in an unfamiliar place and sometimes have to order food in an unfamiliar language. There have been times when I’m not even sure what I ate but I was glad to have a warm meal.

At Brasserie Beck I got away with not eating the oysters. It seemed like everyone around me really enjoyed them but I was afraid to. I ate my weight in cured meats and cheese to compensate. My glass was refilled with Sauvignon Blanc at least twice by the end of the first course and the conversations were flowing like a glacial stream on a hot spring day. I wanted everyone at the table to be my best friend and for the night to never end. Several waiters cleared the table and presented the second course. The head chef, Robert Wiedmaier, paid us a visit at this time. He asked how everything was and encouraged us to enjoy this next course. I looked down at the table to find long charred octopus tentacles staring back at me.

I noticed Tammy watching me from across the table. We locked eyes as my new friends gobbled up the sea creature. I could no longer get away with quietly not eating. She outed me by shouting, “Jamie, are you ok with this?” All attention was turned to me. I felt my cheeks blush as someone said, “do you not like seafood?” I didn’t know what to say.

It is universally considered rude to not eat food that is served to you by your host. If you are visiting friends and they spend the day cooking for you, it is insulting to say, “oh sorry, I don’t eat that.” You don’t turn your nose up at someone’s generosity and hospitality. The same rules apply if someone hosts you at a restaurant instead of their home. The last thing I wanted to do was offend the kindness these women were showing us. So finally I said, “I don’t usually have a taste of seafood. But I’ll give this a try.” Then as the words left my mouth, I received an influx of encouragement from everyone at the table, “the texture is like a tender grilled meat” “try it with the salsa on top, it’s a nice combo” “just take a little bite” “let us know what you think.” I was terrified and shaking as I took a piece off of the platter. I smiled and did my best to divert the conversation back to someone else.

The words around me faded to white noise. All I could see was my plate in front of me. I cut into the tentacle. It was tender, a white meat, slightly flakey and softer than a scallop. The salsa was fresh and bright, a combination of cucumbers, roasted peppers, and shaved red onions dressed in oregano and caper vinaigrette. I balanced a quarter-sized amount of meat onto my fork and with as much salsa that would stay on. Then put it in my mouth. It was good. Great actually. It didn’t have an “of the sea” flavor at all. In fact, it was fresh and new and interesting. The combo of the wine, salsa, and octopus made me want to sit on a sun drenched porch somewhere on a beach with white sand and crystal clear water. It made me feel like suddenly winter wasn’t clinging to the air outside. I ate the rest of the portion on my plate and went for more. I surprised my companions and myself. They applauded my efforts discretely as we all commented on how lovely the meal had been thus far.

I couldn’t help but smile. I was so proud of myself. The table was cleared again and the salad course served, arugula with one large prawn. As I looked at the prawn, a wave of excitement came over me. I thought about an episode of Anthony Bourdain, No Reservations where he and his travel companion were eating prawns. They stared by sucking the brains out, and then devoured the bodies. I shivered, then cut the body from the head with my knife and ate it in small pieces with the salad. I left the head alone, baby steps. I felt like a champion. I felt like I climbed a mountain, and a steep one at that. Adrenalin pumped through my veins.

It was now time for the main course and our wine was switched to red. A Pinot Noir to accompany the Thursday night special: roasted Moulard duck breast with brandied sweet potato puree, fricassee of winter vegetables, kumquat marmalade and Madeira jus. By the time dessert and dessert wine came, I was in a state of pure bliss. My taste buds and stomach were sufficiently challenged, then rewarded. Conversations lingered past the table being cleared and check paid. We were making plans to see each other again, to reunite over happy hour or the next blogger event, and vowed to run a 5K together. We put our coats on and dispersed in cabs back to our homes, still squeezing in one last bit of gossip as we parted ways.

That night I realized something. For those of us who have a curious soul and traveling mind, we don’t always have to go far from home to experience the rush of encountering the unknown. Sometimes, all we have to do is choose something different on the menu.

Kitchen Sink Granola

Sometimes when I get home after a long trip or even if I've been up for 18 hours straight working, I don't want to drag out the recipe books and run to the farmer's market. Our farmer's market is Sunday mornings anyways, when I'm usually somewhere else. I used to be a cereal junkie for this reason. It was my go to "I'm not thinking just shoveling this into my mouth so I'm not hungry" meal when I got home from a trip or when I was crazy stressed. Just a box of cereal and half gallon of milk would get me through 48 hours of, well, just about anything (including exam week in college). 

But last year I decided to let go of my addiction. It took a while. I love the crunch of cereal and how the cold milk gets swept up in each bite. Cereal is mostly sugar though and full of crap I don't need to put in my body. So I began experimenting with granola which has many more wholesome bits to fuel my body. 

After using many different grains and ingredients, I came to one conclusion and that is you really can't go wrong with this stuff. Here's a basic recipe that you can change or expand based on whatever you happen to have in the house that day (hence the kitchen sink part). Many of these ingredients have a decent shelf life, so they can even be waiting for you after that long journey home.

Kitchen Sink Granola

Start by measuring out one and a half cups of rolled oats into a mixing bowl. I like to use a glass one so I can see the pretty layers forming before I mix up the ingredients. Then add a quarter cup of both coconut oil and coconut flakes, a tablespoon of chia seeds and one of crushed flax seeds, a half teaspoon of vanilla extract and teaspoon of cinnamon. If I have pumpkin seeds, sometimes I'll add those. Add almonds, crushed, sliced or whole, whatever your preference and as much as you'd like. Just be careful on how much you add because while delicious and nutritious, nuts and seeds can be rather fattening. 

To make a toasted granola, at this point you can spread this mixture onto a baking sheet and pop it into the oven at 350 degrees until whenever you start to smell the almonds roasting. I would check on it at five minutes and again at ten. Once it cools a bit, you can add fresh or dried fruits and chocolate chips for a topping on yogurt or as a replacement for cereal with cold milk. 

OR you can skip the oven and add a few more ingredients to make raw granola and then go really crazy and throw that into the freezer to make bars. Here's the next round of ingredients... add a half cup of creamy peanut butter and one mashed up banana. I also like to add dried fruit like raisins, cranberries, papaya, or apricot. You can also omit the almonds if you find it too nutty with the almonds and peanut butter. Sometimes I omit the almonds and use crunchy peanut butter. I know, it gets pretty wild in my kitchen.

If you want to make bars, spread the mixture onto a layer of plastic wrap on a glass baking dish (size up to you, bigger dish will equal thinner bars). Then cover mixture with another layer of plastic wrap. Throw in the freezer for up to an hour to harden, then cut up and store in individual snack bags in the freezer until consumed. I make these sometimes as breakfast on the go for Gman.

So I'd love to know, how do you experiment in the kitchen? What is your go to food when you are exhausted or stressed?

Exploring Wine: A Thanksgiving Pairing

I almost bored myself to tears last week as I wrote about suggested wine pairings for your Thanksgiving feasts. I was going argue why the body, structure, and fruitiness of a Pinot Noir would be perfect with your succulent turkey and cranberry sauce. But then, I thought better of it and instead I’m going to tell you a little story about pairing wine with the holiday meal.


It’s 10am. I’ve just finished serving my family a generous meal of scrambled eggs, biscuits, ambrosia, fresh coffee, orange juice, and applewood smoked bacon. I need the bacon for Brussels sprouts I’m roasting later in the day. So I do a pre-Thanksgiving breakfast feast. I can’t just cook bacon at 9am with a house full of people and not expect them to eat it all before I can say, “that’s for later.” I buy double what I need and accept the fact that I will also be sneaking little bits of it all day.


After cleaning the kitchen, I sit down to finish my second cup of coffee and go over my lists and recipes to make sure I start cooking everything on time, and in the right order. My sous chef/mother notices I have no oranges or sugar. She sends dad out for them while she starts peeling apples for a pie. I ask for Sucanat to try and keep the meal as dairy-free, organic, and non-processed as possible.


He comes back with a pound of refined white sugar, along with Grand Marnier and champagne to use to kill off the orange juice; because we obviously can’t just have orange juice sitting around. My sister decides it’s too much for her and goes for a run. My dad abandons his new mimosa making duties to accompany her. Gman is already out. My coffee is down to the last bitter, cold sip.


I start on the Brussels sprouts, rinsing, chopping, and roasting them with apples and bacon (which barely made it into the dish). My sous chef and I decide there is no time like the present to sample the good wine I carefully choose to compliment our dinner. My, my do I love Pinot Noir. It’s the Goldilocks of wine - not as heavy as a Cab or Malbec, not as light as a Nebbiolo or Chianti - and it goes down so easily too, especially while one is cooking. As soon as the Brussels sprouts are in the oven, we start the cranberry sauce. The Grand Marnier doesn’t go to waste, and we pour a little into the cranberries and orange zest. Man, the wine is so good. It makes everything fragrant and I pat myself on the back for such a fine selection.


More biscuits, and some cornbread go into the oven as the Brussels sprouts finish up. I start boiling the potatoes and cook the sausage for the dressing. Everyone returns. We open a second bottle then nearly burn our fingers sampling the Brussels sprouts straight off the pan. “Yes,” I say, complimenting myself out loud, “the Pinot Noir picks up the bits of bacon nicely without over-powering the apples”. My sister rolls her eyes.


Then I realize that the turkey roast is still chilling in the fridge. It’s now 2pm and the side dishes are near completion. I ignore everything that Giada and Ina have taught me and rub a bunch of butter all over the cold roast, and then dump some salt and pepper on it. It’s thrown into the oven about 50 degrees hotter than noted on the packaging. We consider cutting up and grilling it instead, then realize the grill is out of gas and its also 40 degrees outside.


Slowly the day slips through my fingers. Once everything is finished in the kitchen, we are forced to drink cheap Chardonnay with the turkey (which wasn’t a total loss) instead of the hand-selected Pinot since my sous chef and I finished that off, oops. But no one seems to notice or mind. We end the night with a rousing game of Apples to Apples. Then devour some apple pie and vanilla ice cream.


Nothing was exactly as I prepared for in my head the weeks leading up. In the moment, I was stressed more than I was calm. I was even resentful that I couldn’t go for a run too, but really, I was relieved to get some quiet time to do one of my favorite things: sit in the kitchen with my mom, drink the finest wine we can afford while pretending to be focused on the food, but really we’re just gossiping until everyone returns and the moment is gone.

Tips to Travel By: Make Reservations

Whenever I'm starving I cannot decide where to eat. I don't just want anything but I don't have a craving for something either. Furthermore, I don't like wasting calories or a precious meal on something less than amazing. This is hugely problematic when I'm traveling because usually I don't know where I'm going, I don't know which restaurants are actually good, and sometimes there's a language barrier to boot.

What I do to avoid a meltdown is research the food scene of my destination ahead of time then make reservations. I'm flexible enough for some spontaneity but overall the trip goes smoother if I know we are going to have fresh Italian pasta at 7pm or steak frites at 8. Not only does it give me something to look forward to but I know I will be avoiding being lost and hungry.

Destination: Busch Gardens

Friday afternoon I received an unusual midafternoon call from Gman. He asked me if I would like to go to Busch Gardens on Saturday. “The rental car is only $60 and we can go there and back in one day.” He paused as I tried to digest what he just offered. I quickly went over my agenda, to-do’s, and expectations for the weekend and more quickly than he could think of the next line to convince me, I said “Why the heck not, let’s do it.”

We realized two Bud Lights, a funnel cake, a plate of “authentic” German food, and a half-broken 3D ride in that this was our first trip to an amusement park together. It clearly isn’t something we’re big into but we needed a break and had a lot of fun trying something different. I’ll describe the pros and cons of my experience at the all American theme park but to start, a little bit about the place.

Busch Gardens is an amusement park owned by Anheuser-Busch. There are two locations the one we went to in Williamsburg, Virginia which is Europe themed and one in Tampa, Florida which is Africa themed. (I grew up going to the Tampa one and feel a strong preference for it so I compared them all day.) Busch Gardens is a great place for family bonding and a pretty good deal if you want to drop off your teenagers there for the day. 

On to the pros. The best part is all the sh*t food one could possibly imagine – kettle corn, funnel cakes with ice cream, caramel, and whipped cream, cotton candy, turkey legs, and lots of beer – it’s like the fair sans the fried Twinkies. I tried almost everything too despite having some difficulty trying to squeeze in eating in between roller coasters without wanting to puke. I survived.

I like that amusement parks offer something for everyone and allow you to have exhilarating and slow moments throughout the day. We saw lots of animals including owls, horses, Bald Eagles, wolves, and birds (the one in Tampa has a safari!). The animals there were mostly rescued from accidents and very well taken care of. One of the owls we “met” usually lives about 15 years in the wild but could live up to 40 in captivity! Also he was huge and only weighed 5 lbs. The same sized Bald Eagle weighed almost 15 lbs. The owl was also distracted looking for squirrels while the handler talked to us.

There were a variety of rides from sky buckets to roller coasters and everything in between. When we were little my sister and I loved the log flume. I thought I also enjoyed roller coasters but the photographic evidence shows that I was in fact not having fun. My displeasure greatly amused Gman and he made me go on as many as possible.

The people watching was absolutely outstanding. I’m so glad I decided to wear with jean shorts that day because they were the choice du jour. I’ve never seen so many variations on the classic and on so many body types and ages.

The cons. We were hoping that we beat tourist season but we didn’t count on the hordes of high school choir groups that descended on the place like locusts. Eventually their rowdiness grew on me and it was still less crowded than it could have been, so not too bad, right?

No, that wasn’t the worst of it. Gman and I decided on German food for lunch and so headed to Oktoberfest as soon as we got to the park. When we walked into Das Festhaus and I was immediately overwhelmed with a magical forest themed restaurant, seating 2,000, with mass produced food, and an all-singing all-dancing Broadway style musical extravaganza. The overly happy faces sang and danced to charming poppy music in the center of the room. Welcome to my hell.

I can’t stand musicals nor do I like themed restaurants, especially magical forest ones at themed countries in theme parks. Restaurants should be about the food. Period. I tried to leave and Gman begged me to stay because he was so hungry already. Luckily we just caught the end of the thing but I noticed people were lining up to meet the cast. What?! We ate in relative peace as we contemplated the meaning of this interpretation of German culture.

Allow me to quickly explain my annoyance towards sing-a-longs and these types of productions. I respect and appreciate live music and dance, don’t get me wrong. I cried my eyes out during the entire production of Wicked. Some people are truly talented.  However, in many cases their produced happiness reminds me of overly entertaining cheerleaders making bubbly faces at the camera. Their enthusiasm is forced and I lose faith in everyone buying into it.

I will say that I can see the need for such a break in the amusement park. Taking 30 minutes off our feet while sitting in air-conditioning was welcomed. In fact, I made Gman go to the less-smiley Celtic dancing production later that afternoon.

The weather was perfect – warm but not hot, slightly breezy, and sunny. Gman and I truly enjoyed our day together and felt like we did get away from it all. We had plenty of downtime to stroll through the park, look at flowers and animals, check people out, eat lots of food we shouldn’t, have a few thrills and get to know each other a little more.

So tell me, do you like amusement parks? What’s your favorite part or why don’t you like them?

Review: Baguette Box; Seattle WA

I went to Baguette Box last fall during my trip to Seattle with Gman. It's a fun little place with a doggie themed interior and casual furnishings. Located in the hip Capitol Hill neighborhood, it's near great vintage and home furnishing shops. The menu is simple - just a few sandwiches and light sides. The sandwiches consist of traditional Vietnamese style meats and veggies served on French style baguettes. The bread is perfectly soft on the inside, flaky on the outside. I ordered the pork belly with hoisin sauce and cilantro option and I'm pretty sure I was drooling as I ate it. And am again now as I remember its savory goodness.

They offer delivery, to-go, and dine in so this a great spot for the busy commuter or leisurely tourist. It was one of our favorite meals in Seattle.

Review: The Diner, Washington, D.C.

The Diner is a cozy, well... diner, tucked away in Adam's Morgan. My friend Stephanie and I found ourselves starving, slightly hungover, and wandering through the neighborhood one fine Saturday morning (let's be honest it was noon). As we walked past we noticed the piles of pancakes on other patrons plates and were immediately sold.

Whenever I go to brunch I always want something sweet and something savory. I can't imagine just eating a plate full of french toast or bacon, but I always want a bite of each. However, it's too much for one person to get a stack of pancakes and an omelet and a pile of bacon. I'm always left deciding between them or convincing Gman he wants pancakes so I can have a bite.

At The Diner you could order the breakfast special which included two eggs any style, bacon, sausage or ham, homefries or grits, pancakes or french toast, and white, wheat or rye toast AND coffee, tea, or hot chocolate. All of that can be yours for $13! I ordered the pancakes, eggs over medium, bacon, and homefries. I nearly cleaned my plate and felt like a champion. Not only that, but I didn't have to convince anyone to get the pancakes, I got a little of each. It was glorious.

Sprinkles Cupcakes, Washington D.C.

Here in D.C. cupcakes are still trendy. I really don't know how they will go out of style as you can eat cake more regularly and say to yourself, it's OK, I'm not being bad. I'm just eating this little cupcake. Since they are so stylish a snack, there are many options to choose from. People might ask you if you're a Georgetown Cupcakes person or a Sprinkles person. That's like asking if you're into buying local or exotic goods (Sprinkles originally started in Beverly Hills). I don't think it's wise to read into one's political choices based on their cupcake selections, but I can say I picked Sprinkles this time because there was no line. And I like their branding.

As always, I had a difficult deciding which flavor. So many choices! I finally went with vanilla because those sprinkles were indeed irresistible. My companion, Stephanie, choose red velvet, as she is a connoisseur in this flavor.

I've mentioned in previous cupcake reviews that I'm a cake person - vs. a frosting person. I think people like to add frosting to make bad or stale cake more appealing. You frosting people would just eat icing by the spoonful if you could. Don't lie! This cake was so moist, and just the right density. I swayed between inhaling it and savoring each bite. I even had a hard time scraping the frosting off this time, I liked the added texture from the sprinkles. I'm surprised that the experience of something that only took less than 5 minutes to eat is still lingering in my memory now (that's what she said...).

Review: Leopold's Ice Cream, Savannah, GA

I'm going to go ahead and say, this ice cream is freakin' delicious. Just look at that chocolate goodness dripping over the side of that tiny cup. Look at the mountain of perfection perched on crunchy cone. Can you imagine how cold and creamy it is? Can you imagine the delight of the first bite? And the disappointment of the last? Can you imagine that I ordered the tiny cup thinking I would just enjoy a taste? Can you imagine that I tried to eat Gman's and our companions' ice cream too? I almost hurt myself trying to get more of this most tasty treat...

Review: Eataly, New York City

I've been hearing so many good things about Eataly. How authentic it is, how delicious it is, how interesting people like to go there, and how it's an "it" place to go to in the Flat Iron District. You might recognize the names of one of the partners, Mario Batali. But what is it? I've always wondered. So on a very cold winter's day, I had to go and find out.

Eataly is a mix of grocery store, coffee shop, charcuterie, cheesemonger, bookstore, and wine bar all rolled into one little destination that is greater than the sum of its parts. Almost everything is freshly imported from Italy and is 100% authentic to Italian cuisine. Their philosphy is to consume the highest quality products that are produced in a fair, clean environment, and to share them with friends and family. There is a bakery with fresh breads, a chocolatier with decadent treats that look through the glass displays like puppies in a pet store - just begging me to scoop them up and take them home. Imported specialty jams, sauces, vinegars, and olive oils pattern every nook and cranny to an exhibition designer's dream and foodie's delight, as each package is new, exciting, and perfectly organized. At every turn I was overwhelmed by the impecably fresh selection, beautiful displays, crisp, modern design, and the hords of people. This is not a well kept secret! If it was 10 degrees when we went, I can't imagine the crowd when it's nice out. But still, I found myself drooling and wanting to buy everything I saw.

My girlfriend, Katie, eats here often for a lunch-time panini, so if you go, I recommend grabbing one of those, some freshly sliced cured meats, a cheese plate, oh! and some specialty chocolates, warm bread, wine, a cappuccino....