Have your cake and eat it too!

Who serves their kid ice cream for dinner?!!??

On Tuesday night my friend L, a special-ed teacher who is in her late 20s and has been married for over a year, talked about how she is ready to have kids and hopes to start trying next year. Four of the seven girls at the table shared her sentiments, and we went on to discuss things that change with the advent of parenthood. For me, notions of lost freedom and scheduling life around someone else's digestive system came to mind. For L, she said:

"I ate ice cream for dinner last night. Probably I can't do that when I'm a mom."

True, I guess. One of my favorite childhood memories was a night when Mom was at a conference and the whole family accompanied her to make it a vacation. She had a dinner one night, so Dad took us to the grocery store to get stuff for dinner. Each of us was allowed to choose one thing that we turned into a meal. Dorothy chose Pringles, Rob chose Reese's Pieces, and I chose strawberry ice cream. (Dad got a salad).

We turned out alright. L, I think you'll be just fine as a mother.

Dinner with the Baltimore Parking Authority

Last night the girls met at Yellow Dog Cafe to catch up and enjoy a meal. I'd read several reviews that didn't make the food sound worth paying for a $40 meal, plus I had some school work to get done, so I showed after dinner.

Over a glass of wine, we chatted and had a great time. An hour into my visit, the waitress showed up asking if any of us drove a silver Honda - because the Baltimore Parking Authority just issued that car a ticket. My car. Ticketed for obstructing traffic because the car was parked on a corner and, I guess, pedestrians walking on the sidewalk would have to alter their path to get around the car as they crossed the street. There are no signs, as there are in Mount Vernon. There was not an indented curb. I legitimately didn't know I couldn't park there.

The fine is $52. I might as well have gotten to the restaurant on time and eaten some soggy fish. Apparently at 6:30 there were plenty of parking spaces.

Tabard Inn

Last time I saw A, we drank a six-pack on my porch at Rocky Point and ordered Domino's. She was wrapping up her internship at the St. Petersburg Times and heading back to her last semester at Northwestern. We'd bonded because she is adorable and sweet and also from Baltimore.

Now she's a full-fledged adult, with a sweet (sweeter than she knows) gig covering technology and politics and living in D.C. We caught up for brunch at the Tabard Inn in DuPont, another fave of C's that I'd been wanting to try.

When you arrive at Tabard - behind SAIS on N Street, in an unlikely place - you feel like glamorous, Gatsby-like people had some wild times there long before you walked through the door. For brunch, the kind waitress helped me choose eggs benedict (remind me to write about my philosophy on this dish one day) and also some "famous" homemade donuts. The benedict was average, with the hollandaise sauce really lacking flavor and quite bland and the ham really not up to par, but the donuts were delicious. If only I liked donuts! While the highlight of brunch certainly was catching up with A, the food was perfectly fine and tasted better because of the Tabard's fabulous atmosphere. I'd like to go back at night and muse over the atmosphere with a Pimm's Cup or a Manhattan or something else that makes me feel like I'm a part of the Jazz Age.

So cute, you could just eat her up

Today the Lunchbox takes a break from our regularly scheduled meal to wish a happy first birthday to the always-giggling, soon-to-be-walking, slightly mischevious and utterly fabulous Miss Keegan Emily!

Pasta, Pasta, Pasta!

Our peaceful Saturday night

2Amys, Washington

After BIG performed Friday with WIT, we drove up past the National Cathedral to 2Amys for dinner. C loves this place, and I was delighted to finally find out what all the fuss is about.

2Amys doesn't take reservations and is enormously popular with what appeared to be both the family crowd for pizza night and the young couples for date night, so we waited about a half hour for our table, even at the late hour of almost 10 p.m. We relaxed at their wine bar, C with a Moretti and me with a house specialty drink, the Lemonade McQuaid - lemons, honey, and Grey Goose. That drink was so delicious we attempted to make it again at home the next night. The wine bar offered a list of the cleverly named "Serenity Now," an exhaustive list of antipasto offerings that were served straight from dishes on the bar.



At a table outside - ah, lovely fall - a Maggie Gyllenhaal look-alike served us Polpettine al forno (fried risotto balls with cheese), Supli a telefono (meatballs), and Oven-roasted olives (hot olives!?). They were out of an amazing-looking eggplant parm and the fennel crostini that we'd ordered. By the time we sat we weren't starving, so this small-ish amount of food turned out to be perfect.

I was impressed with 2Amys simplicity, which lends to some pretty amazing food served in a relaxing atmosphere. Next time I'd like to delve a bit more into their "Serenity Now" offerings and try the pizza, which seems to be a hit offering.

Sushi with Bob

One of my last trips to the Harbor East Whole Foods was with Bob. On our way to the closing for my condo, we grabbed lunch at the store - me, brown-rice sushi and Bob, a salad and meat from the hot bar - and reviewed the condo documents and strategized my (failed) demand for a new air handler in the unit. I met Bob in improv class and then, after finding the condo I wanted, figured I'd just have him be my real estate agent. What a bonding experience.

Anyhow, I recently told Bob he is my hero. He wrote about why in an entry on his blog. It sounds like I was joking, but there is a lot of truth there. While I make concious decision to focus on positives in life and am generally very happy with my lot - thrilled, actually, I am trying to figure out how to balance the desire to break free of the American standard (born, educated, job, married, kids, retire, die, as explained by my Dad) with the need to pay my mortgage and eat at good restaurants. Consumerism is killing my American Dream!

My sketchy understanding is that Bob worked in IT at a government agency for a few years, and then realized this wasn't the life for him. He's now in that stage we all go through trying to figure out how to make life fulfilling - but rather than doing that behind a desk he's doing it while sleeping at his parents' house and doing some odd - but meaningful - jobs part time. I admire Bob's courage to break out of the prescribed choices most of us make and I only wish I had his moxy!

Cheers to Bob!

Anyone out there have any suggestions to this modern problem of philosophy?

Australian cuisine

For months I've been (obnoxiously?) anticipating my first taste of a Roo Burger - but the truth is that I've never actually considered Australian cuisine. As I learn more and more about the country that I liken to Disney World in form of a nation, I'm finding out about Australian foods and C's favorites, most notably, Vegemite.

Vegemite is a dark brown, super-salty paste that tastes like wet buillion on steriods. The Kraft Foods of Australia website describes it as a concentrated yeast product and full of vitamin B. If C eats breakfast, it's Vegemite spread on toast, and apparently, his countrymen swear by this as a cure-all health food. It's part of their heritage. When he shared it with me for the first time, he told me how Americans can't handle the strong taste of Vegemite - and, in fact, a product launch in the U.S. failed - so I was only allowed to taste a tiny bit on a cracker. I stomached it, and will do it again, because I think I might be brainwashed like the Aussies into believing this stuff is good for me!

Still waiting for that Roo Burger.

Read more in Whole Foods' feature on Australian cuisine.

Minato, again

Bob nominated me this week as "most likely to overdose on sushi." His prediction is even more likely now that I've discovered the deals at Minato.

At lunchtime today, I snuck out of the office to meet the appliance repairman at my place. Thanks to the Federalist Papers, I've neglected nearly everything this past week, most notably grocery shopping and laundry. So I called Minato and ordered their three-roll combo - a generous deal that gives you two fish rolls and one veggie roll for $10.95. I got spicy tuna, cucumber and plum, and bagel (a departure from the usual, but fun and spontaneous). After lunch, I still have enough leftover for a pre-class dinner!

Tamber's Restaurant, Charles Village

From buffalo wings and sandwich wraps to tikki masala and naan, you can order most anything Indian and generically American at Tamber's in Charles Village.

After learning that I have faculty privileges at the library - which means I can check a book out for the entire school year and it can not be recalled - I met a biomed post-doc for lunch. Charles Village doesn't offer a wide selection of reasonable (sofar as cost, time, healty) lunch spots, so we settled on the default Tamber's.


I ordered Chana - chickpeas in a masala sauce - and naan, and Biomed Post-doc ordered tandoori chicken. We don't know each other well, and I have that strange American detatchment/individualism thing going on, but I mustered up the decency to share. No way I could eat that many chickpeas myself, anyway.

Generally, Tamber's Indian food is pretty excellent, and not too oily - the mark of bad Indian to my uncultured palate (much to the chagrin of G). It's a bit expensive for lunch - some chickpeas, four folds of naan, and an iced tea cost me $18 - but that's the price you pay to stay away from the university dining hall.

Chicken Curry in Acorn Squash

With the advent of another autumn, it's time to begin worshipping the squash. Spaghetti, acorn, butternut - whatever you choose, nature's perfect package offers a delicious source of nutrition that's often entertaining, too.

Stumbling on the first acorns of the season at the Farmer's Market, I was inspired to make a recipe I'd clipped last winter from Men's Health: Chicken Curry in Acorn Squash. The meal turned out simple to make, delicious to eat, fun to put in a bowl made of squash, and nutritous. If you try the recipe, I'd suggest using a little more curry powder and more raisins.

Farmer's Market delights

Most Sundays I go to the Farmer's Market and buy lots of vegetables that I'll never eat. But now I'm trying to force myself to not waste the bounty.

To save the crimini mushrooms, I sauteed them in a little butter with french shallots (also acquired at the FM) and then cooked the mixture with an egg. With a fresh yellow tomato, this turned into an awesome meal.

Partly in vain, I rescued a mess of baby eggplant, green pepper, and zuchini, along with store-bought cherry tomatos and, of course, those French shallots, and made a faux rattitoule. First, I roasted the cubed eggplant in olive oil and salt, then I added everything to a pan and cooked it with more olive oil. The first round was delicious, with a sprinkling of parmesean cheese - but the leftovers looked more like depressing oil soup

Sette Osteria

As summer fades and talk turns to Christmas in Tuscany, we couldn't help but find Italian for dinner. (That, and the wait at Bistro Du Coin was too long.) We settled on DuPont's Sette Osteria, where C had been before but been displeased with the service.

Our forgot-to-make-reservations Friday night turned out, however, to be a surprising delight here. We waited for our table for about 20 minutes, a time that flew by with a glass of Rose at the restaurant bar. After we were seated - and famished, as it was nearing 9 p.m. - we ordered calamari. I selected the "calamari" genre, and C honed it down by choosing the grilled dish rather than the fried - Calamari alla griglia offered perfect summer flavor, charred just right and served atop greens in a lemon vinagrette.

For our meal, we ordered two dishes to share:

"Cavatelli con cime di rapa, salsiccia e pomodoro" - Cavatelli pasta with mild Italian sausage, broccoli rabe, pecorino cheese

"Pesce spada alla Trapanese" - Seared swordfish on a Trapanese pesto sauce with roasted eggplant

Both were delicious - again, a surprise for a cheeky, scene-y DuPont restaurant better known for its pizza. The pasta dish offered a great balance between the ground sausage and the seasoned broccoli, and wasn't too heavy as pasta often is. The fish was the clear winner, topped with capers, tomatos, and olives that tasted delicious, atop diced eggplant, not overcooked, as eggplant often is, and cooked in some wine. Perfect!

Our service was fine - good, actually. When I mentioned to someone that we'd eaten at Sette, the first comment was "Oh the food is good but I always get terrible service." It wasn't an issue at all, and our server was extremely attentive and the food came out in fair time.

Eating out Italian isn't my first choice, as I belive I can create that cuisine well enough myself. But for a fun, low-key Friday night dinner, Sette delivered on all fronts.

Flour + Egg + Salt + Oil = Pasta

Last night I christened the new pasta machine, in anticipation of a low-key pasta party at my place toinght.

First, I hand-mixed (literally, with my washed fingers and palms) a non-measured recipe of flour, eggs, salt, and olive oil.



After some kneading on my granite countertop, the ingredients turned into a pasty ball.



They "rested" for a while under a towel and then I cranked them through the new pasta machine so they were long, thin ribbons.



After another little nap, I cut the pasta into looong pieces of fetticuine, then stored them in the fridge in an air-tight container for tonight's meal. Mostly I just wanted to make sure the pasta machine was seasoned and ready to work and that I was able to mix the pasta dough by hand, sans Cuisinart.

New York Times Takes Canton

After living in Canton for two years, and partying there longer, I have a deep affection for my city's grungier hot spot. Many a memory has been made - and lost - on the square that honors seaman John O'Donnell almost as grandly as it honors Natty Boh and RBVs.

The New York Times recently published "Cold Yuengling, Fresh Oysters" -- a sloppy travel piece that lists the restaurants and stores lining Canton Square. Firstly, the illo graphic calls South Curley Street "Scurley Street" and beyond that, it appears that the writer didn't actually dine at Mama's On the Half Shell or order a drink at Coburn's before suggesting readers go there. They mention Looney's but miss JD's Smokehouse, where the food is pretty great for bar stuff. They mention Mama's but forget Portside.

Alas. Black-and-white print, written by someone who doesn't know - the tragedy of journalism, lamented by a fundraiser who recently wrote an authoritative piece on secrets of the hotel industry for a major publication.

Dinner, August 31

The Brewer's Art quickly became a neighborhood fave after I moved into Mount Vernon. Partly because they offer Nora beer, an Italian hoppy brew. Off the menu, Nora costs $15, seemingly pricey even in a haute beer house. But she comes with two glasses and can last almost all the way through happy hour.

This place is also a fave because of the food, of course. Upstairs Brewer's serves dark, cave-like haute-ish cuisine, like rabbit and pork, in a classy, white-tablecloth atmosphere. But downstairs is where you'll find the real gem; excellent food they try to pass as bar grub but really is high-quality fare at a reasonable price. The burger is a favorite, not remarkably different than what you'll find anywhere else, but a perfect excecution of a favorite. And the fries... now I generally try not to eat French Fries. (Years ago, during the post-college chunky days, a friend in Philadelphia and I were having those young-20s insecure weight conversations. She said something like "well, you really like french fries..." And I stopped eating them.) Except when I'm at Brewer's. These are the most delicious, perfectly delicate fries cooked to perfection and seasoned with rosemary.