Foodie Girls Lunch Brigade - Episode 25

My husband looks up as I rush past him to grab my car keys from the hook by the door.

Him:  Where are you off to in such a hurry?  I thought the Foodie Girl thing was for lunch.
Me:  It is.  But first a bunch of the moms are going to Happy Feet.
Him:  Happy Feet?
Me:  Yeah.  It's apparently this place where you go and get a foot massage.  It's an end of the school year treat.  We're very stressed out.
Him:  Do they know about your feet?  Like, are they insured?
Me:  Shut up!
Him:  Seriously.  Do you need some cash?  It's going to cost a fortune to get some stranger to touch those things.
Me:  Oh my god!  Why do I even talk to you?
Him:  And you should definitely have left a few hours ago. There's not enough time in the day...
Me:  I am so not bringing you any leftovers.

I turn and head out the door.  He calls after me.

Him:  I bet they change the name soon! To Scary Feet!
Me:  I hate you!

My horrifying feet and I soon arrive at a nondescript mini mall a few miles from my house.  After exchanging hugs and hellos, our group ducks into a cool, dim room, where the sound of small waterfalls and soothing flute music* greets us.  There are simple bamboo screens, plants, and very cushy looking chairs set up just past the pleasant entryway.  We all begin to whisper in hushed tones:

"Have you been here before?"
"No, never!"
"I bring the kids.  They love it!"
"How do they do the pedicures in the dark**?"

Suddenly, a burly man in a face mask is at my elbow.

Him:  Lady?  You ready?
Me:  Um, sure.  I guess so.

There's my cushy chair, with matching cushy footstool, draped in clean white towels.  Mr. Face Mask gestures for me to place my things next to the chair, and to step into a wicker basket between the chair and the footstool.  The serenity of the darkened room is momentarily disturbed by my sharp yelp of surprise when my toes hit the lake of steaming water that is hiding in the basket***.

Recovering nicely (in my own mind), I begin to sit in the chair, ready to start in on my rehearsed apology for having such crappy feet. Instead, MFM points me in no uncertain terms toward the footstool.  I sit, facing the chair, feet firmly planted in the basket of hot water. He puts a small flat pillow on my legs, then signals for me to lean over and place my hands and arms on the chair.  I am now folded over my own lap, completely mystified by what's going on****.   Not only am I doing yoga unexpectedly, out of nowhere, strong hands begin to massage my shoulders.

My neck muscles:  Ye-OW! What the hell? Christ! That hurts. Oy! Oy! Oy! Holy #$%*! Ah, jeez. Good lord almighty! A little to the left. Yeah. Ooh. Ooh. Eeeeee! Oy. Whoa. Uh. Ugh. Uh. Ugh. Oh.  Oh. Man, how did this knot even get in here? It's the size of a piano. Ouch. Ouch. Yikes! More down.  Ah ha. Right. There. Great. Great. Hmm. Mmm. Zzzzzzzz. Oh no. No. Other side. Ye-OW!

A gentle tap. I am cleared to move to the chair. Zombie-like, I rise, arms flaccid, rotate my body, and sit down heavily.

MFM:  Lady? Lady? You like head massage?
Me:  Mmfph.

An hour later, after my arms, legs, and those truly pitiful feet of mine have all been given the full treatment*****, we assemble like shell-shocked wet noodles in the parking lot.

Fellow FG:  Tony's?
Me:  Mmfph.

Episode 25 - The Comfort of Tony's
Going from mini mall to mini mall is a very LA thing to do.  Likewise, finding delicious food or muscular bliss within those strips of unremarkable storefronts is also an unheralded benefit of life here. So it seemed only fitting for us to say farewell to FG10, who is moving away in a few weeks, with a visit to Tony's Mexican Grill.

Like Bua Siam, Tony's is squarely in the flats of the Valley, sharing a small parking lot with a Donut Inn and a dry cleaner.   As I snap a photo of the outside, a woman in an apron comes out and asks if I need help.   When I explain that I'm taking pictures for a blog, she looks puzzled, then smiles and waves me in, laughing.

"I don't even know what a blog is.  But we'll be glad to get you set up.  Thanks for coming!"  She heads back to the kitchen and sends out chips and salsa for the table.

It's that kind of place.
Friendly.
Welcoming.
Nice.

Roasted corn salad, with grilled shrimp and fresh avocado

No wonder people love it. That, and the food is very good, too.  The menu is full of traditional Mexican fare:  tacos, enchiladas, burritos, with a long list of salads, soups and breakfast items, along with  "big plates" of grilled meat or seafood, vegetables, and sides.   Everything is made from scratch, from fresh ingredients.  There are no trendy specials, and not a single dish is "plated" for effect.  There's too much food for that.

The chicken "Big Plate" lives up to its name

Here come the Nachos...

Our group of 10 takes up nearly half the restaurant, but the staff cheerfully works their way around our awkwardly assembled table, taking orders and bringing drinks.  We have a few non-FGs with us, and they are initiated into the rituals of ordering, sharing, and letting me grab a shot before digging in.

Combo plate, with chile relleno and an outstanding chicken enchilada in green sauce

Plates go around.  There's more than enough, and it's all tasty.  Will any single bite change your life?  Nope.  It's just good, hearty food, lovingly prepared by people who care.  Per the name, the standouts seem to be the grilled dishes, although my tempura-battered mahi mahi tacos are also excellent.

Everyone's chattering away, at least until we clink the napkin holder and give our best wishes to our departing friends. FG10 solemnly promises to eat herself silly in Seattle, with photos and dispatches for the rest of us.  It's in print now, so she has to do it.

The "Wet" beef burrito, with warm homemade ranchero sauce

The family delivers small bowls of ripe, fresh fruit, with a spoonful of delectable sweetened yogurt, to the table.  It's a lovely way to end the meal. We lean back, smiling.

We're relaxed.
We're very happy.
And it's not just our feet.

FG Final Verdict? Tony's is ON the list.
Pricing Information:  Most dishes $7-11.  Our cost was $14 per person, including tax and tip.
FG Value Rating:  A steal!

* Personally, I don't find Asian flute music soothing.  It makes my teeth hurt.  But maybe other people do.
** Several people thought they were going to get a pedicure.  They were, of course, misinformed.
*** Important life lesson.  Just because something appears to be woven of reeds and full of holes doesn't mean it can't have a waterproof plastic lining.
**** I have a great view of my feet, by the way, and they look almost harmless, beneath the shadow of my belly, shrouded by the dark water.   My husband is clearly way off base here.
***** There was a warm oil foot rub and special attention paid to each little piggy, without even a sign of MFM freaking out.

My Old School

On Friday, my daughter graduated
From sixth grade.
The kids were all dressed up.
Pearls from an absent Grandma,
Hair just so.
Glimpses of the children they were
Hints of the adults they will become.
They looked beautiful and nervous.
Radiant.
Full of excitement,
Of love for each other,
For this joyous place where they grew up.
There were songs, a minuet, and a really nice speech.
Inside jokes.
Outbursts of laughter.

Many, many boxes of kleenex.
Names called to rousing cheers.
Tearful embraces with their teachers.
A flower.
Colorful dragons on the diplomas.

Photos.
Photos.
Photos.
Just a couple more photos.

A last clinging hug.
The gate behind us.
Just like that.
We're never going back
To our old school.

For her, this will someday recede.
She'll conquer high school and college.
Get a job.  Have a wedding.
Bear a child who will, before she knows it, graduate from sixth grade.
Emotions will run high and wild every time.
That's what rites of passage are all about*.

I loved every minute of this one.

Graduation Sangria
One of the many libations we emotionally exhausted parents took comfort from at the evening graduation celebration**.

Sangria Base:
2 bottles cheap, but not horrible, red wine***
3/4 c. freshly squeezed orange juice, strained
1/3 - 1/2 c. simple syrup**** or super-fine sugar
1 heaping tsp. cinnamon
generous splash of Cointreau or Grand Marnier
generous splash of very good Cognac

Finishing Touches:
About 2 cups of mixed fresh berries
About 2 c. 7-Up

Combine wine and orange juice in a large bowl.  In a small bowl, combine sugar or simple syrup and cinnamon, then add that mixture to the wine.  Splash in the good stuff.   Stir, and taste.  Since you'll be adding 7-Up and fruit later, it should be a bit more intense and slightly less sweet than you'd expect the final version to be, but the flavor should be in the general area of greatness.  If not serving immediately, transfer to an airtight container and keep in the fridge.

Just before serving, add the fresh fruit and 7-Up, using as much soda as you like to lighten it up for your guests.  Don't add ice to the sangria itself, or it will get diluted quickly.  Instead, add ice to the glasses and pour the sangria over, making sure to include some fruit in each serving.

Bonus! Sangria Sorbet
I made this up on a whim.  Wow!  So happy I did.  Because flavors get less intense when they are cold, adding some additional OJ, simple syrup and 7-Up helps maintain the sangria taste when you turn it into sorbet.  The additional sugar also helps the mixture freeze better, counteracting the anti-freezing properties of the wine.

3 c. sangria base
1/4 c. fresh orange juice
1/2 c. simple syrup
1/2 c. 7-Up

Combine all ingredients, then process according to your ice cream maker's instructions.   Serve with fresh berries.

Click to Print these recipes!

* Also the swag. This particular rite of passage was nice because it came with t-shirts and a cool hat.
** Here's the recipe for the even more popular drink, straight tequila:  Buy something expensive.  Pour.
*** This recipe is perfect for Trader Joe's Two-buck Chuck.  Go for the cab.
**** Equal parts water and sugar, boiled together for a few minutes and then cooled.   A great way to sweeten cocktails, because it doesn't leave any "grit" from the sugar in the drinks.

What rhymes with Quinoa?

These guys know.



What can you make with your hella-spensive Whole Food's Quinoa?

Pancakes*.

Quinoa Pancakes
We had these delectable breakfast treats at the Hotel Inkaterra in Aguas Calientes, Peru.  They are nutty, slightly chewy, and somehow exotic and homey tasting all at once.  Probably the combination of port, vanilla and cinnamon.  Yum!

200 gr. (about 1 3/4 c.) flour

2 tsp. baking powder

3 Tbs. sugar

Dash of salt

Dash of cinnamon

5 eggs

1 tsp. vanilla
3 Tbs. port

200 gr. (about 1 c.) cooked red quinoa

Butter, for cooking pancakes

In a large mixing bowl, combine flour, baking powder, sugar, salt and cinnamon.  Add eggs, vanilla, port, and mix gently.  Stir in quinoa.   Allow batter to rest for 30 minutes.

Heat a large frying pan or griddle over medium high heat.  Melt a nice amount of butter in the pan.  Ladle out pancakes.   Cook for about 2-3 minutes, or until bubbles appear on the surface and the edges appear slightly dry.  Flip.  Cook for another couple of minutes, and serve immediately, with more butter and warm syrup.

* Or banana bread, if you bought quinoa flour as one of your six things for 80 bucks.  And no, that's not my car in the video!

The cure for naked ice cream

Q:  What do you do with a bowl of naked ice cream?
A:  Dress it up fancy.

Note:  Definitions of fancy may vary.

My daughter:  Sprinkles and gummy bears.  LOTS of gummy bears*.
My son:  Naked ice cream!  Heh heh heh.  Mom said naked.  Hey, does it count if I put the naked ice cream on top of a warm brownie.  Still naked, but on top?   Get it?  Heh heh heh.  I'm a riot.
My husband:  Just strawberries.  I'm really very full.  And maybe a tiny bit of that whipped cream.  Oh, OK, pass the hot fudge, too.

My husband's actual plate, the night we took the ice cream sundae bar to a friend's house. Note bowl of gummy bears in foreground.  At end of evening, none will be left.  My daughter is the prime suspect, but she was definitely not working alone.

A Sundae Bar's Worth of Ice Cream Dress-Up Sauces
The nice thing about naked ice cream is that it just gives you so many options.  Like a blank canvas, really.  The even nicer thing about these ice cream dress-up sauces is that you don't actually need the ice cream to enjoy them. If you have a naked spoon, you're good.

Heh heh heh.

They have a Pottery Barn there

This came today in the mail, addressed to Mom.  I always suspected that heaven was very tastefully decorated.  Now I know.

10% off, too!

How I get myself invited back every year

I take Memorial Day weekend off.  The grill is cold. The doorbell does not ring.  The house is not picked up.  I sleep in.  It's fantastic.

This program is made possible by other people stepping up to the plate and hosting BBQs.  Not just regular BBQ's mind you, which are great but might not merit the state of breathless anticipation which pervades our family as this weekend approaches.  I'm talking about a BBQ where we, the fortunate attendees, get to show up and be handed fresh cherry mojitos while the host grills up a variety of gourmet sausages, slow-smoked ribs, chicken with an Asian spice rub, and burgers with all the fixings. Where we sip our drinks and enjoy a variety of homemade salsas, guacamole, and chips as we chat.  Not to mention where there are more than 10 different kinds of individually hand-packed, custom-made gourmet ice creams to choose from* to go with the warm cobbler and hot-from-the-oven caramel sugar cookies for dessert.

As Maria Von Trapp so aptly put it, somewhere in my wicked childhood, I must have done something good.

But just to be on the safe side for next year's evite, I always bring this.

They have a great personality

There's just no way to make these look good. I tried. Artfully lit or not, they look like little piles of brown poop.  

If you make these cookies, it will not be because you are holding a food photography workshop. Or a fancy tea party where people wear linen pants. When you are hoping the local news just might be covering the charity bake sale, do not make these cookies. First time having a potential life partner over for a gourmet meal?  Ix-nay.  If there is any chance at all that there will be a lasting visual record of your dessert course, for heaven's sake make something else. These are not for public consumption.

No.  These are private cookies.  Lick the beaters when you're done because no one is home to catch you kind of cookies.   Make the whole house smell like cookies kind of cookies.  Warm and cozy and homemade in the best possible way kind of cookies.  Grab a handful fresh from the oven kind of cookies. A whole glass of milk kind of cookies. Hearty and substantive and meaningful kind of cookies. Close your eyes and sigh happily kind of cookies*.

My kind of cookies.

Visually Unimpressive But Otherwise Outstanding Oatmeal Raisin Cookies
When you've had a great oatmeal raisin cookie, straight out of the oven, it'll haunt you for the rest of your days.   There is a nearly two-year old thread on chowhound where converts continue to seek this elusive holy grail.   I don't claim to have found it.  The recipe below is a mash up of one from my sister, ideas from that blog thread, and my own instinct for what molasses could do in a cookie like this.  The quest will go on.  But these are very very good.  Try them (in private) and see for yourself.

1 c. butter, softened
1 c. sugar
1/2 c. brown sugar, packed
2 eggs
2 tsp. vanilla
1 Tb. molasses
2 c. flour
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. baking soda
1 1/2 c. quick-cooking oatmeal
1 1/2 c. raisins, or a mix of raisins and other dried fruit**

Pre heat oven to 325.

Combine butter and sugars in a large bowl, and beat with an electric mixer on medium speed until fluffy.  Add eggs, vanilla and molasses, and mix again.

In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, cinnamon, salt and baking soda.  Add to the butter/sugar mixture, beating a low speed just until combined.  Gently stir in oatmeal and raisins by hand.

If you have time, chill the dough for an hour or so before baking.

Cover a baking sheet with parchment paper or a Silpat, and scoop dough by rounded spoonfuls on to the prepared sheet, placing a few inches apart.  Gently pat down the centers of the cookies with two fingers, so the tops are flat, but the cookies aren't squished.

Bake for 12-15 minutes, until edges are golden brown but centers are still pale brown***.  Share with people who don't care what you or your cookies look like.

* BTW, if your eyes are closed, you will by definition not give a damn about appearances.
**  If your raisins are very dried up, soak them in a little warm water for 30 minutes or so before using.
*** Will look just like little pools of crap.