Several places have a Seoul House with a higher Google page rank than the one in Oakland, including but not limited to Houston, Melbourne, Vancouver, and Fairfax. The Oakland one does have the dot-biz domain ("COMING SOON SUMMER 2006").
Some reviews and another review.
We went there last night with some friends who go there every December 24. The food was reasonably good; the atmosphere was depressing. (Nondescript place-of-dining decor; clock on the wall claimed that it was "Friday the 15th"; inexplicably they had a framed painting of JFK.)
I got the spicy BBQ pork; as expected, same recipe as served at the Korean place that anchors Emeryville Public Market but higher-quality meat. (It's been forever since I chose the Korean at the Public Market, partly because I go there at all so sporadically.) I suppose my biggest letdown was that I assumed this would be the kind of hot pot place where they had burners at our table and everyone's clothes smelled like meat. No such luck.
"Six weeks ago, I met [him] for lunch at an Olive Garden restaurant in Midtown Manhattan. (I had offered to take him anywhere he wanted and then vetoed his first choice, T.G.I. Friday’s.) "
--from a New York Times profile
(Name obfuscated because this isn't about making fun of one person: It's about an entire decision-making mindset. You're in Manhattan, of all places, and you go where?)
Found at Marginal Revolution, which in turn found it here.
(Thank you again Fark)
Nice table here, though I agree with the first commenter that the submitter headline utterly misinterpreted the data.
I will now be the 10th person from whom you've seen this monstrosity.
Bobby Flay's recipe looks like it'd come out a lot runnier than the appetizer served at La Pinata #3.
Whenever the Mrs. and I need to split a margarita half-pitcher, I find myself ordering queso fundido. On one hand how can an appetizer be unhealthy? On the other, potato skins are also a potential appetizer. In any case the chorizo really soaks up the alcohol.
What is this and when did it become memetic? (I suppose I could look these things up.)
FbtF gets name-checked in today's Onion, long after the guys at The Dugout (aside: I mourn the loss of their chat archives) did hilarious work involving FbtF and Dmitri Young.
I heard "Buttons" for the first time tonight and it gave me a craving for rogan josh, or maybe vindaloo.
Why aren't there more dance songs with a vaguely South Asian backing? Did Linkin Park ruin the tie-in?
In no particular order (and with some obvious redundancy), an incomplete list inspired by both the entry right below this and Maribeth's rough weekend:
Mayonnaise (#1 with a bullet: that stuff kills so many people, so many ways)
cole slaw
(egg|ham|chicken|potato) salad
Any other "salad" that's actually some other food product pureed and contaminated
cream cheese
(cow's) milk
ranch dressing (n.b. despite this I like Cool Ranch Doritos)
various soft cheeses
hummus (to Julia's great dismay)
I admit that I'm not terribly concerned about whether the sushi I eat is authentically Japanese. If it's really more "pan Asian," so be it.
Msrs. Coen and Wright have already pointed out that a burrito is not a sandwich.
Mrs. Mason notes, however, that robots might mistake human flesh for bacon or prosciutto.
This has nothing to do with food but 13 people in the U.S. have the first name and last name I go by; 17 people in the U.S. have my more formal first name and last name. It's unclear how much overlap (if any) there is between those particular Matts and Matthews.
I'd meant to post the second one as a fantastic example of the concept of meeting expectation, yet hadn't gotten around to that until now.
Just how good is the food in Hermosillo? After I showed up in the much-inferior Chihuahua, I had what was probably the best goat I have eaten in my life. I was, in relative terms, disappointed by my meal.--economist Tyler Cowen
This reminds me of when I went to an Italian restaurant recently. This is not a fantastic restaurant, but it's just a couple of blocks from my apartment, it has some good wine specials, and the food is passable.
Anyway, the waiter came by and asked us: "is everything up to your expectations?". Well, my expectations were pretty damn low, so the answer was a resounding YES!--baseball analyst Nate Silver
Keep it in your freezer. Volokh seems to be right that all Russians know this, yet surprisingly few non-Russians do.
Which of these best describes how you learned of tiramisu?
0. What is tiramisu?
1. I learned about it from this blog entry itself. (c.f. old Saturday Night Live sketch asking ordinary people where they were when they heard JFK was shot, only they found the three most clueless people imaginable: "In the green room" / "He told me" / "JFK was shot?!?")
2. I'm vaguely familiar with tiramisu but not sure from where
3. How can anyone not know what tiramisu is?! Everyone knows, and so there's no way of knowing when/where I first heard of it.
4. From some restaurant (which one?)
5. From some event (which one?)
6. From some movie (which one?)
7. Other
I first heard of tiramisu from a movie -- actually from the hype surrounding that movie, as I've never seen the movie and probably never will.
For the longest time I honestly assumed that this movie had singlehandedly spawned a dessert fad. At first I even believed "tiramisu" was a made-up word and that someone had fabricated a dessert to bring some movie event to real life.
So who here has ever eaten at an IKEA?
When I ran across this heated rebuttal to an inane Spiegel article about IKEA breakfasts in Europe, I remembered Julia mentioned to me that she knows people who regularly go to IKEA for good cheap breakfasts.
My first point of comparison was those awful Target bistros (whenever I think of Target I think of the smell of nasty hot dogs) but surely IKEA does things better. Perhaps I should rethink my "I will never again set foot in an IKEA" policy.
Not sure what inspired this train of thought, but I realized the other day that most of the eating out we did when I was a kid involved places with more than one location that still weren't national chains.
The next few paragraphs will be meaningless to those who didn't grow up in or near Tulsa (hi Dave) but who knows, maybe you can comment with references that will only make sense to one or two other commenters.
Most of the hamburgers I ate as a kid were home-grilled. Second place, however, was Brahm's. Better known for its ice cream, Brahm's nonetheless also sold burgers and fries. I was familiar with the chain (Oklahoma-wide?) long before I knew of the composer.
(Third place was Wendy's, by far my favorite of the nationwide Big Three. In my four-year-old vocabulary, I misused the word "pure" to describe what I now know is best described by the word "juicy.")
Anyhow, as McDonald's, Wendy's, and BK were to burgers, I somehow mentally associated Ken's, Mazzio's, and Pizza Hut (in that order, I think). For some reason it surprised me greatly to learn that the latter was a national chain and the first two weren't.
Likewise Taco Bell: I was astounded to learn where it fit in the nationwide fast food pecking order, given that I get the sense it was distinctly higher caste than Taco Mayo or Taco Tico. (Never went to Casa Bonita, Chi-Chi's, or the Yucatan Liquor Stand, so I have no idea where those slot.)
Crystal's technically doesn't fit this entry, since I think there was only the one location (and then zero after the fire), but it was hands-down the best pizza in Tulsa. The game room (think Chuck E.) helped of course.
Oh, and Furr's Cafeteria (as the jingle went: "Making up your mind is half the fun!"), which I always assumed was a way nicer place than Luby's. And as far as I can remember it was, though there were far more Luby's in the greater region. I've never seen a cafeteria-style eatery on either coast. I suppose there's a reason why the same meme that dominates schools, hospitals, and factories, isn't associated with fine going-out dining.
But then the shopping area around Woodland Hills Mall gentrified a bit and suddenly both Red Lobster and The Olive Garden were a stone's throw away.
Omigod, it falls apart in my mouth!
Your teeth help, lady.
--Rachael Ray gets a snappy comeback from my fiancee
Turkey, of course, lightly seasoned*, with stuffing.
Mashed potatoes with gravy from the turkey.
A mix of sweet potatoes with yams.
Green bean casserole.
Pumpkin au gratin.
Cranberry sauce.
Pumpkin pie, served with coffee and ice cream.
I'm sure I've forgotten something, though the point is my fiancee made all of the above and all were delicious.
*- The really tasty spice that gives food a greenish tinge. I realize that may describe more than one spice, though if I'd typed "basil" or "pesto" I'd turn out to be wrong.
Recent personal Thanksgivings:
2004, 2002, and 2001: Hosted by the Kubiceks (in Kansas, Kansas, and Walnut Creek, respectively).
2003: Russian-style food in a large family gathering at Julia's uncle's in SF.
2000: Chad and I (et al) shared a house; given how much of the prep work was Kubi-driven (actually the future Mrs. Kubi, since Mr. watched so much football), that's four times in a five-year span that the Kubiceks had me covered.
1999: Worked that day. My biggest Thanksgiving day meal consisted entirely of Triscuits, cheese, and summer sausage.
1998 and 1997: Snuck into a Harvard dining hall despite no longer going there.
1996: Indian food with my then-girlfriend when Star Market was closed (probably because of those ridiculous blue laws)
1995: Harvard dining hall, this time consumed legitimately. Joined by my friend Chuck, who'd just come out via e-mail. His being obviously the same person he'd always been was enlightening in that non-issue way that causes one to feel sheepish about thinking it'd be anything different.
1994: Invited to spend Thanksgiving with a particular church group in Boston. This site among others is wary of the group in question. I'll just say I had a pleasant Thanksgiving day and leave it at that. My friend eventually succeeded at inviting me to one of her church services; I never did succeed at inviting her along to a service where I went.
1993: Invited to a Boston University sorority somewhere in Allston.
1992: Flew home from college. The airport crowds were so annoying that I decided never to do that again.
1991 and previous: At home with my sister, parents, and family friends. Maybe one time in the 1980s we visited grandparents in North Carolina.
Between this Tennessee boosterism and this Texas rejoinder, I really have no stake. (Though I emphatically agree that what you do on a Weber is "grilling" and not necessarily "barbecuing.")
On trips related to quiz-bowl I found both Texas BBQ and Tennessee BBQ disappointing. The pulled pork in Myrtle Beach was pretty good though not spectacular.
I suspect that the best BBQ of all comes from Koreans and that the best BBQ of U.S. origin comes from Kansas City, though your mileage may vary on either of those opinions.
You may have noticed I was gone... we went to a wedding (not our own!) in the Boston area. For no obvious reason I'll start the blog recapping on a culinary note.
Thursday
9 a.m. PDT - Breakfast burritos from the 360 Gourmet place in Terminal 1 ("All Other Airlines" - i.e. non-Southwest) at OAK. Even though I forgot to ask for chicken apple sausage, the eggs, cheese, salsa, and tortilla alone were enough to hit the spot. Julia got us smoothies, which were also good.
Junk food on Jet Blue: Munchies (tm), then crackers with fromage (I eschewed the fromage).
9 p.m. EDT - Funny how a coast-to-coast flight plus a jump of three time zones eats your whole day. We dined at this hotel's river-view restaurant. Amazingly fresh ingredients. We got Boston clam chowder and spinach/mushroom quesadilla appetizers, then the scallop special for me (the risotto was too rich for me but she enjoyed it) and tuna steak for her.
Friday
We made due with late-morning coffee and water to kick off the day before heading to Harvard Square.
1:30 p.m. EDT - The Border Cafe is still Harvard's most compelling eatery, despite being a conspicuous exception to my rule that when you go for regional cuisine you should take into account how far you are from the region in question. So help me, the best Tex-Mex I've ever had is in Cambridge, Massachusetts. I wish I could remember the name of the chicken dish I got. It was stuffed with poblano peppers among other things.
(We each had a late-afternoon glass of wine at the Museum of Fine Art.)
7 p.m. EDT - Shrimp and lobster scampi, plus beer, at The Barking Crab near where I used to work. The menu was much more fried-food-heavy than I'd remembered it being, but my particular dish was good. (The crab cakes not so much, I'm told.) This wasn't a place to enjoy food so much as a place to enjoy seeing old friends.
Saturday
12:30 p.m. EDT - An hour before the wedding, went back to the hotel restaurant for sandwiches for lack of other timely options, though again the food was fantastic, with strikingly fresh ingredients. I had a chicken melt with tasty cheese and even tastier tomato/pesto sauce.
The wedding reception of course had good food (buffet style, chicken and salmon) and copious dessert fare.
Sunday
11 a.m. EDT - The wedding brunch was a cornucopia of quiches and croissants and eclairs and relaxed conversation at the bride's parents' house. The groom's parents in particular were still just permanently beaming. Very happy wedding party - good couple.
5 p.m. EDT - Having made it up to Portland, Maine, we dined at this floating restaurant on the Waterfront. I had a mixed seafood broil that was good but more buttery that it should have been (broiled = healthy, at least most of the time); Julia had a shrimp Caesar salad in which, to my surprise (though not hers, since the menu said as much) the shrimp was breaded.
Monday
9 a.m. EDT - Free continental breakfast from the EconoLodge outside Brunswick (that's as far Down East as we got: given when we left the brunch and when our flights were, Acadia might have been doable after all but would have been really pushing it; wouldn't have left us time to sightsee Portland at leisure, for example). We shared a bagel, an english muffin, OJ, and coffee.
11:45 a.m. EDT - Shared a seafood chowder from a little place just off the main drag in Freeport. Briefly did the boutiquey shopping thing but did not drop in on LL Bean corporate HQ.
5 p.m. EDT - With 8:00 flights we had just enough time to find the North End, find parking in same, find (eventually after I started us off the wrong way) Salem Street, and pick a restaurant. LoConte's (next to La Famiglia, otherwise tempting except that we couldn't easily bring doggie bags for the plane) was tasty and authentic. Where has chicken cacciatore been all my life? With all those red, yellow, and green peppers, it's a natural for me. Even at that, if anything I liked my seafood pasta even more.
Junk food on Jet Blue again: This time almonds for me. Funny how time zone differences mean that the same flight path can be all day, or just a very extended evening.
Anyone know off-hand how many "points" a six-dollar plate of Kung Pao Chicken (transliterated on the sign as "gung-bo chicken") correspond to? More than 11?
Depending on the answer to that, I stayed within 28 points Wednesday, exceeded it by a little Thursday and Friday, but am in no danger of exhausting the emergency backup points.
(By the way, cows like beer. Just thought you should know.)
The most frightening food products I've seen on gas station and mini-mart shelves in 2005:
Doritos now comes in a $1.29 "MegaGrab" portion. If you're scoring at home, that's four servings per bag (instead of three from the mere "Big Grab") and 560 calories per bag (instead of presumably 420; hmm, there's cosmic harmony in an allotment of Doritos with exactly "420" calories).
Snyder's of Hanover now offers jalapeno-flavored pretzel bites. Julia and I have already covered their honey mustard flavor and my intense antipathy for the taste. Why I dislike honey mustard so, when I like so many other strong flavors (c.f. the Garden Herb Triscuits), is unclear.
Have any of you tried the TGIF Mozzarella snacks? Apparently it's a dried/preserved version of thier mozzarella sticks, textured Cheetoh-style.
For the gourmet snackers, you can now get Kettle Crisps in roasted pepper and goat cheese flavor.
Of all things to flavor with onion and garlic: Shelled pistachios?!?
On my way to a late lunch yesterday I took an elevator down from my floor (13 - I do enjoy working in a building whose architects reject superstition) to take a long walk to wherever I'd eat. Saw the "1" button already lit and absentmindedly pressed the "2" button, force of habit since I always park on the top level of the garage, with an entrance onto the second floor.
Felt a bit sheepish when I realized the woman on the elevator would have to make two stops because of me (13 and 2); felt even more sheepish when I realized I'd actually want the first floor, since I was going to take a long walk. Decided to just get off on 2, walk out to the parking garage, take the outside stairs, and walk. Psychologically easier than saying "Just kidding about the second floor."
So the elevator stops at 2 and the lady bursts out of it ahead of me. Stunned, I start to call out "This is the second..." "It's okay, I forgot my keys." And the door shut between us and next thing I knew I was on the first floor anyway. That is, exactly where I wanted to be to begin with, and yet... it confused me but only because I'm slow that way.
Wasn't that a fascinating story? I respect the love of my life's time too much to have inflicted this on her, yet I put it out there for you to read, and even a bonus.
Towards the end of work last night I was insanely productive, finding more and more things to get done but also running out of time to eat between work and poker. Got to the latter at 8:05, close enough to the start time on the invitation that I figured the game wouldn't be quite underway yet. And in fact, the Stanford contingent was running late enough that I had time to go take a walk, hence dine after all.
Found a reasonable looking Mexican place in Rockridge (had the name "Cactus" in it), ordered their cheapest quesadilla and a drink cup. This is one of those places where they put your order number on your receipt and call out numbers as food is ready. Or they're supposed to. After a couple minutes I saw the cooks put a quesadilla plate onto the metal counter, where it was ignored for one minute. Two minutes. I looked at my receipt (#45) and the receipt on the plate (#45) and wondered if I'd get in trouble if I just reached over the counter to grab my food.
(They had a prominent sign posted saying they no longer gave you your food without looking at your receipt. Now, I HAD my receipt, just didn't have anyone whose attention I could get to verify that it was mine even though it obviously was.)
Finally I made eye contact with someone. She took my receipt, scrutinized it, scrutinized the plate, slid the quesadilla over to me, and was saved the trouble of announcing #45 over the sound system.
I remember cringing at a West Coast post-tournament dinner when players brought Fat Slice pizza boxes from across the street into the Indian place to sit at the table where the rest of us had our curry.
This should blow that out of the water, and yet given the guy's explanation I honestly can't blame him. Well, maybe I can blame him for going back into the gala event with all that food, but still.
(And suddenly the long-neglected "Food Log" category springs to live. I should mention some of the Thanksgiving weekend menu here, but enough gluttony was involved that I feel compunction about it.)
So now I've seen a whole bunch of webloggers refer to the new "Thickburger" that brags about (or rather its makers brag about) just how many calories it has, how much meat, how much bacon and mayo and so on.
But In N' Out already had this angle covered with the "four-by-four"! By definition, this is a full pound of beef, four slices of cheese, and whatever other toppings you choose to request. (In my case, none.) Even without toppings, this is easily in the neighborhood of those vaunted 1400 calories, and yes I've ordered it (and consumed it singlehandedly) at least thrice.
I love spicy food as much as anyone but my Ethiopian experiences have been completely different from Joe's.
First, he writes: "Ethiopian is [...] wonderful if you're an option paralysis sufferer like I am..."
Funny thing, every Ethiopian place I've been to myself (i.e. both of them, neither of which is Blue Nile) is one of those where you have to choose three things from a list of seven, plus two things from a list of five. Then they brag on their menu that you have some five-digit number of options, and my math geek buddies and I carry out the combinatorics to see where they got that figure.
Much more importantly, he writes: "It's also pleasantly communal to share food family style with no utensils; you use the injera bread to scoop--it's surprisingly efficient."
Efficient, but depending on what sauces/entrees you got (aside from the spice, Ethiopian is remarkably similar in texture to baby food), this gets really really finger-licking messy. Also, the runny texture in my experience doesn't sit well with me (ahem - and apologies).
P.S. There's a wonderful Midwestern quiz-bowl story about "Ethiopian" seafood that I can't tell correctly. If you're familiar with it and wish to post it, comment away.
We ate at a nice place post symphony, not expensive-nice, just nice-nice. Shared an entree (big portions). I ordered iced tea; they brought me hot tea and a big glass filled with ice. It mixed really well. The waitstaff all sang; there was a jazz pianist in the corner.
TVs mounted near the ceiling showed Barry Bonds being interviewed; that's how I knew he'd hit #700.
Lots of events last night: Bonds got #700 in the first home game after a week-and-a-half road trip (to Denver, Phoenix, and Milwaukee). A couple blocks from the symphony there was a Beastie Boys concert, complicating parking a bit.