That's Week!

This past week has just been such a blur and a blessing that it's really only till now that I've been able to stop and reflect what a fast-changing world I live in. 

It hasn't always been this way though. The path towards my promotion at times felt glacial in its pace. I have questioned whether I would get it at all at some point. But when I finally got tapped to start interviewing for the promotion, I rediscovered the reasons that made me great at my job and the things I can still accomplish while I'm here. That entire process took a while, which is why when the real thing happened so quickly I almost felt gypped! All that prep boiling down to am hour's worth of interviews?!?! Eh, I guess that's how everything goes in life right? Whether it's for a performance for your job...or your life. Which brings us to last week. You know when you've had a good week through and through, because those weeks happen once in a millennium. Unless you're Kim Kardashian, in which case I love/hate how addicted I am to your family. 

Anyway, guilty-pleasure-confession aside, the week started out with a whimper and ended with a bang. Much like Kim K.'s career. I think I just made an inappropriate reference somewhere there, but i don't care. 

Monday was judgment day. It s really not fun going in for an oral exam of sorts, or getting scrutinized in general. But afterwards, there was such a sigh of relief that all I could do was smile the whole day. Then fell asleep of exhaustion and anticipation. 

Tuesday: You know that pit in your stomach as you await for the exam results? You can't exactly concentrate on anything, and I am already something of a space cadet (wow, have not used that term since i was obsessing over Sweet Valley's Unicorn Club series). Thankfully my team had an outing to that great, freakishly huge annual event, the Minnesota State Fair. Really, what can be more distracting than molten cheese stuffed inside corn dog batter and deep fried. This fair was a cardio-clogging, cataclysmic cheese consumption-rama of sorts for me. Not only did I start off with cheese on a stick, I then proceeded to eat cheese curds (a classic), mac and cheese on a stick (what is it with fairs and impalement devices?!), deep fried cheesecake, and the most ridiculous thing I've ever eaten, a deep fried cheeseburger. That monster was SICK in both +/- manners. It was delicious and burger -y. And I could feel the slick of the oil slipping down my throat after every bite of that Lipitor-beggin' in a bun. 

The infamous deep fried cheeseburger; trust me, you don't wanna see what's inside

Truly after a pig-out like that I would need some mad coffee fix to keep me going for the rest of the day...that, or the sweet news from your group manager that you got the promotion. That must be one of the all-time best ways to tell someone good news: do it at a state fair with happy people, happy food, happy rides, happy cows. Wait, those cows are from California. TV ad reference high five! I was so overly ecstatic that all I could do was smile all the way from the midway to my next food fix. I believe that was when we got the cheesecake, which was followed by a celebratory Guinness as my team was told of the news and we did an impromptu happy hour. 

Yey Guinness!

Alas, a day like that would be so heart-filling already, but the sun still has to set. And I still had a Script concert and a fantastic reunion with my high school friend Jade to go to. We haven't seen each other in almost a decade, so to find out he was here, of all places, was just the most perfect thing ever. Taking him to the Script concert was awesome because the Script put on an A-freaking-mazing show that night, even above and beyond their concert last year at the State. And thus, a new Script fan is born. And two good friends are reunited over great live music and delicious food (ah Eli's, you will always be a fave).

The Script

It took me a good day to get down from my cloud. I was thrilled to learn the new area I will be moving to, but not without a tinge of sadness as I really liked the team I was working with. I don't think a lot of companies allow their employees to do team outings in State Fairs or pontoons, or have Friday afternoon mini-golf tournaments and Nerf gun battles...

Cut to the weekend (coz everybody's looking to the weekend, weekend...), and it was the most relaxed yet productive (I know, I know, I live in a world of contradictions) long weekend ever, as I had some fun visitors stay with me to see Minneapolis, Mariel-style. We started off by visiting that mecca of excess, Mall of America for some good ol' style shopping. And I realized why I hate MoA on the weekends: all those damn kids. I swear one of these days I'm going to just wear riot police gear when I go shopping there so I could just     plow through the crowd and get to my shopping. After the mall that resulted in one measly (but pretty) shirt, we headed back to Minneapolis for dinner at Rinata, which was also a first for me. It was an absolute gem of a find in Uptown, with deliciously fresh bread service, mouth-watering mushroom and blue cheese bruschetta, and salty, unctuous soppressata salami pizza. And delicious eye candy, per my friends. :)

Soppressata Salami Pizza @ Rinata

After a filling dinner, we walked it off -- and I do mean WALK -- by taking a stroll down the Mississippi River. I sometimes forget how beautiful the Riverfront is, especially when you take in the gorgeous view of the skyline from the St. Anthony Bridge...

Mill City Museum

Hennepin Bridge, Riverfront, Minneapolis

Of course, you've gots to end Saturday night with a blast, which we did on the dance floors of Gay 90's (I swear, they should have a loyalty card for that place, coz I go there so often I should be getting free drinks by now). I told Jade the drinks there were pretty strong, to which -- a few drinks later -- he happily agreed with, adding "I didn't know they would be that strong." Indeed, if there's anyone who knows how to make a mean Vodka Diet, it would be the 90's. All those drinks definitely helped keep myself and Jade warm after we left the bar at 2 AM and couldn't catch one effing taxi. I swear, some taxi drivers can be such jerks; none of them wanted to take us because we were "too close" to make money off of. Thankfully, the pedicabs came to our rescue, as we rode two separate pedicabs in 40 degree weather back home. THANK YOU Carson and Stormy (yep, that was his name) for driving us all the way to Slice of New York, grabbing some late night grub at 3 AM with us, and getting us home safe and (cold but) sound. 

Don't mess.

With all the craziness of Saturday, Sunday ended up a little more low-key, which was just the way I like my Sunday. Well, first off we woke up at 2 PM, so that pretty much dictated the rest of the day. We had great Vietnamese food at Pho 79 and got Jade hooked on the delicious elixir that is the pho broth. :) Afterwards, we walked a few mere blocks to my favorite free museum in Minneapolis, the Minneapolis Institute of Arts. It never ceases to amaze me how so much beauty can be housed in this museum that kinda pops out of nowhere in a residential neighborhood, and is offered to its patrons for free! 

I carry that same grateful feeling when I walk to the Sculpture Garden by the Walker and get to show my friends the famous Cherry & Spoon Bridge, as well as other sculpture pieces. I do love how you can get the most perfect view of the Minneapolis skyline from this vantage point. 

We ended Sunday with a dinner cooked at home (parmesan crusted chicken and garlic mashed potatoes, yuuuuuumy!) and our umpteenth viewing of Enchanted. Alas, "True Love's Kiss," "Happy Working Song," and "So Close" were stuck in our heads for the remainder of the long weekend. At least it replaced "Rehab" (seriously). :) 

You never take a Monday holiday for granted, so we rented a Zipcar and drove to another oversized, excessive establishment called Albertville Outlet Malls. Labor Day Weekend is that magical holiday when all retailers decide to drop their prices (and even more from their already discounted outlet retails) and entice shoppers to spend their hard-earned cash on things like margarita makers and Crocs shoes. To which I say, "To each their own, I'm gonna get myself three good bras" (which I did; score!!!). Shopping feels most satisfying when I achieve certain goals, and I was definitely cheery after I found the best pair of sandals that I will use over and over again until it quits on me. I heart Clarks. Seriously. 

Alas, not all weekends can last forever, and after 5 very productive hours of shopping, I decided to take my friends on one last hoorah by going to the whitest place I know, Maynard's in Excelsior. I could see my friends were very titillated by the sights. And I'm not just talking about the lakefront view.   

Last week was a wonderful, blessed week. I'm so grateful I got to experience it with great company, and I'm glad to share it with my friends and family in writing. And, every week can be this fabulous; coz life is what we make it. Like a boss. 

Don't Mess with Texas.

Otherwise, she will leave you out in the middle of a summer day in San Antonio, without an A/C in site. That'll do it.

Yep, if there's anything that defines Texans' rebelliousness, it's that they've decided to live in Texas.    Damn the incessantly hot and humid weather, the parched earth, and the large, untamed landscape. What do Texans do? They build huge, air-conditioned cities, till the land and herd the cows, and connect the vast state with huge 12-lane freeways. I'm not sure I have the cojones to live in Texas (well, primarily because I am female), but I had an absolutely brilliant time spending my Memorial Day weekend in Houston & San Antonio with my lovely family. Ain't no better way to spend a weekend vacation than by eating, sweating, and eating some more.

Day 1: Hot damn, I'm in Texas.
Given the lukewarm weather in Minnesota, I was obviously looking forward to the much, much warmer weather in Houston. I got a word of warning from my aunt via Facebook post, saying it's going to be hot in Texas. I remember thinking,  "Meh, how different could it be?" Answer: VERY. The moment I stepped out of that airport, it felt like Manila all over again. Every skin gland in my body started screaming "Where the hell are we?!" My cellphone said it was 83 degrees, but it felt more like 93. Funny thing, this wasn't even the hottest time of the year; whereas once it hits 90 degrees in Minneapolis, people start bitching, in Texas it's just another May day.

As eager as I was to eat food that -- in my mind -- defines Texas (beef brisket, Tex Mex, Whataburger and the like), I was far more excited to get my Filipino food on. You know how you don't know how good you've got it until it's gone? Well, that's how I feel about not having Filipino restaurants in Minnesota. So, my first stop straight from the airport was Filipiniana Restaurant at Bissonnet Street. It may not be the best Filipino buffet in the world, but it was still damn good. Every dish was ridiculously rich (read: rolling in oil) and flavorful, from the bistek to the humba, the classic adobo and the peanut butter goodness of kare-kare. I was home; and the humidity in the restaurant really made me feel like I was home in the Philippines. How nostalgic!

After suffering from a ridiculous food coma, we headed back to Katy to rest up and then headed straight to see the Menil Collection in Houston's museum district. It's amazing what oil money can buy, like an entire gallery full of amazing artwork, open to the public for free. They have everything from post-modern pieces (including a disturbing 'artwork' made of wax and real human hair...it makes me shiver just thinking of it), but also artifacts from Pan-Asian and African cultures, as well as some surrealist paintings from the likes of Brauner, Max Ernst, and a few Picasso pieces. I'm so glad my family was there to infuse some humor into an otherwise somber (and oftentimes WTF?) art viewing. You could never get all artsy-fartsy around us before someone calls you, well, artsy-fartsy.

We then headed to the beautiful Hermann Park in the middle of Houston, which has an amazing lake, a venue for concerts (like the Motown evening happening when we were there) and a gorgeous garden. It was the perfect place to take a lovely stroll with my beautiful cousins, and just take some glamor nature shots while I'm at it.

Dinner was quintessential Texas, as we headed to Spring Creek Barbecue for some honest-to-goodness food, cafeteria style. The meats were succulent (especially the sausage, which I all but stole from my cousin's plate), the sides were unlimited (but of course!), and the sweet tea was refreshing.

After a full belly and a viewing of Tangled (which I admittedly bawled my eyes out to), I prepare myself for our field trip to the home of the Alamo, San Antonio, TX.

Interesting Texas fact: They are the only state that can fly their state flag at the same height as the US flag, because they were once an independent country. And they sure love their flag.

Day 2: Remembering (or learning about) the Alamo. 
I woke up bright and early to the smell of Kolache buns, which are these amazing pastries filled with every kind of meat you can think of. I don't think I've ever had anything like it, and I want some now just thinking about it. Especially those sausage, cheese, and potato ones? Yes, please!

San Antonio is about 3 hours from Houston, so we got a pretty good beauty rest until we stopped at Buc-ee's, which is like an overblown gas station convenience store (think a miniature version of Wal-Mart) with everything from Texas souvenirs to hats to beef jerky to Kolaches (yay!) to Buc-ee's Nuggets and more. As the cliche goes, everything's big in Texas, and this place was no different.

We began our tour of San Antonio (or, really, my tour since I was the only newbie in the group) by visiting the 4 "other" missions in the San Antonio mission trail: Concepcion, San Jose, San Juan, and Espada. Since it was a Sunday, there were masses going on in some of the missions (like at Concepcion); it was inspiring to know that some missions are actually still functioning up to this day. It was also nice that all missions had air-conditioned areas, because that day was insanely hot.

Of course, you can't visit the San Antonio missions without hitting up the big one: The Alamo. It was interesting learning about the Alamo, and being schooled on the fact that they actually lost that battle. I always thought they won that one. So much for acing US History. 

The six flags of Texas: Spain, France, Mexico, Confederate, Texas Republic, and United States of America

The Riverwalk is a beautiful stroll along the San Antonio river (which really reminded me more of a canal more than anything). It was easy to get suckered into the touristy side of it all and maybe jump on one of the tour boats, but I felt like this was such a gorgeous place that even natives frequent. All that said, we still ended up having dinner in a tourist trap that wasn't half bad: Casa Rio, the oldest restaurant on the Riverwalk. Hey, as long as I got my enchiladas and margaritas on, I'm happy. 

Margarita es bonita

A-maaah-zing enchilada platter smothered in cheese and sour cream. 

The lovely crew about to get some Mexican food on

Day 3: Chillin' like a villain. 
Whereas Sunday was very productive and exhausting, Monday was lazy and relaxing. Another former staple that I lost upon my move to Minnesota were huge Asian supermarkets, so I was more than eager to hit up 99 Ranch and stock up on my Filipino junk food and other goodies. Afterwards, we ate at a good ol' Korean restaurant, introducing the fam to Korean food's greatest hits: bulgogi, bibimbap, banchan, and seafood pancakes.

In the afternoon, we went for some local Shiner beer and crawfish (my first time eating it!) at the Pub Hub, and continued on the food trip for some more good barbecue from Big Daddy's. Hot damn I love the q.

So much work for little meat, but somehow still worth it!

Epilogue
Two weeks and ** lbs.  later, I'm still missing Texas. Sure, the weather's gotten better here in Minnesota, but there's definitely a lot more adventures to be had in that kick-ass state, where the food is plentiful and delicious, the heritage is rich and proud, the weather is caliente, and the people are friendly and loving. But you still don't wanna mess with them, probably.

Pasta with anchovy

Ever since I had this dish at a taste testing for my sister's wedding reception two years ago, I've always wanted to make this simple dish. This is the second time I've made this, and I've added a twist by putting in a raw egg in the end (kind of like in carbonara). It's so flipping easy, I'm not even gonna put down instructions. You figure out how to make it based on these photos (OK, fine, I'll place hints in the caption). Have fun!

Your ingredients. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.

The salty piece de resistance - anchovies

Saute the onions, garlic, and anchovies in an olive oil-butter mix

Beat the eggs while you toss the cooked pasta into the saute pan

Mix the egg into the pasta, away from the heat. Make sure to toss quickly so you don't scramble the eggs too much

Finished product!

Coffee Monster

Yup, that pretty much sums up what I'm like every day. I need some Joe in my life. 

Tipping is not a city in Russia

I have arrived.

Who wakes up at 8 AM on a friggin' Sunday morning to do anything? As I recently found out, it's this moi, as I hauled my sleepy ass to Al's Breakfast in Dinkytown yesterday (yes, it even has it's own Wikipedia entry; boom-shaka-laka). I've been wanting to visit this place, which was given the James Beard Foundation Award for being an "American Classic," since I moved to Minneapolis. First, because it was featured on Diners, Drive Ins, and Dives (I know, I'm such a gullible Food Network lemming), and second, because I have a friend who's a native and a former U of M student & swears by this place as having some of the most epic,  diner food in the city. And, really, that's all the confirmation I need to make a field trip beyond the Mississippi River to 14th Ave SE (think Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley, except cleaner) to try me some Al's. 

I felt ever so smug (and horrified) waking up at 8 AM on a Sunday, thinking our group would get to Al's before it opened at 9 AM, and that we would be in front of the omnipresent line of locals, tourists, and transplants-who-take-forever-to-eat-at-Al's. How naive of me; at 8:50 AM, the line was about 20 deep, and I felt like such a jerk cutting in front of a few folks because our friends were already in line. Since I believe in food karma, I think that's why my lunch today was absolutely bland and horrible (bleh). 

The moment the doors open at 9 AM to this ten feet wide (yep, you read that right) diner, people stream in and take one of the fourteen stools, while 14 more people stand behind them. This is the intricate dance at Al's; the place is so damn narrow and small that you need to call your seat by hovering over someone else's breakfast for about 30 minutes or more. It's uncomfortable, it's hot, and it's memorable. 

The crew impatiently waiting behind the diners

I smile, but only because I was having 20 oz. of caffeine pumped into my bloodstream

The wait is part of the entire Al's experience, though. There was never a fleeting moment where I thought "why exactly am I doing this again?" Not. At. All. Much like the Mickey's Diner experience of St. Paul, this is one of those activities you just gotta do to experience the city's artery-clogging history, its greased-up food culture. And, having that waiting time allowed me to catch up with my friends, talk about life, and observe every nook and cranny of this joint, from the tchotchkes coming out of every corner, to the different denominations hanging out on the back wall of the kitchen, to the funny signs.

Denominations from all over the world...and Batman!

Prepaid cards for the regulars

The aforementioned Tipping sign

Their James Beard medal. Bow before greatness.

After about 30 minutes of waiting (and that's after several impatient people left), our group was finally seated, and luckily we got to sit close to the smoking hot flat top. The short order cook was nothing short of amazing; she seriously was the multi-tasking ninja of short order cooks. 

The griddle, frying up amazing beautiful things

It was pretty difficult deciding on what to get, especially since everything on their slightly oily, laminated menus sounded so delicious (and LDL-raising). Eventually, I chose the 2 Poached eggs on corned beef hash with a side of rye bread. I also ordered a short stack of blueberry walnut flapjacks for my group to share, since you know I couldn't pass up the chance to get a well-rounded experience. And, also, I'm not so sure when I'll be back here again. :) Our master chef whipped up our plates in very little time. It was so fun watching her crisp up a mound of hashbrowns, before putting two meticulously handled poached eggs on top, then burying the whole thing in a mound of cheddar cheese and steaming the entire food monster. When it came out of its shell, I nearly shed a tear. It was beautiful. 

Look at how that glob of melted cheddar cheese just glistens.

One more glamor shot

Really great flapjacks

I've been to food institutions where I come away going "Eh? What's so great about that place?" Sometimes, it's because I just came at an off day (like Top Dog in Berkeley...once), or maybe because the place really wasn't that special to begin with, and I feel like it's just kept alive by the hype (sorry Philippe's, I'm looking at you). And then, you have a place like Al's Breakfast, which is actually good. It's not phenomenal by any means, and I can probably make the same corned beef hash if you gave me a commercial griddle (how epic would my kitchen be?). But, taken at face value, the food is something good diners produce. It's greasy, it's rich, and it's flavorful. The flapjacks have real berries and nuts in it and (my favorite part!) has the wonderful aftertaste of the other savory stuff from the griddle that it was just on; I appreciate the co-mingling of sweet and salty. The rye bread was positively ryetastic (copyrighted by Mariel Lisud 2011), and the hash browns have the perfect crispy, burnt outsides and buttery insides.

Oh, and for the first time, my fast-eating skills that my family is painfully good at (we would SO suck being French) was actually appreciated at this diner. As I swiftly inhaled (and enjoyed; I can do both at the same time, believe it or not) my breakfast, I just think of the healthier, more productive things I could be doing with my Sunday morning.

Then I let out a lovely belch, and ceased to care.