Are we human or are we dancer?

What is your definition of a real human being? I've struggled with the answer to this question everyday since graduating from college. And it's sad to say that was a long long long time ago. (Thank goodness I'm petite and asian and can still pass for an undergrad)

I remember having a conversation about the choice to be inked or not to be inked with a 21 year old while vacationing in Australia. This boy err man or maybe man-boy was obsessed with his tattoos. Some were in easy to spot places like the inside of his right wrist and others were not like the ones on his upper arm, across one side of his chest and one on his lower abdomen. I mentioned that night after one too many beers that I had always wanted a tattoo but the sheer magnitude of the decision as to what to actually get and where to put it on my body (where it would stay FOREVER) has pretty much forced me into indecision on the whole matter. I told him that I wasn't entirely convinced that it was possible to be a "real human" being if you had visable and obvious tattoos. And I was pretty sure that I should strive to be an real human. It seemed like a logical conclusion to me however he was fairly adamant that my definition of a "real human being" differed greatly from his. 

I only meant that being a person with large visible tattoos seemed to be the antithesis of what an adult should be. And for me a "real human being" = adult.  When I was a kid I thought for sure by the time I hit 30 I would have things all figured out. I didn't necessarily want a house in the burbs with 2.5 children and a white picket fence but I just thought that I would be an adult or at least feel like and adult... doing adult things like my parents. I wasn't sure of all the details but I thought that I would have a plan and a goal and direction.

I am now 30 years old with absolutely no idea of where I'm going, what I want and how to get it. All I know is that I have no ink on me anywhere and I don't think I'm any closer to being a "real human being" then my 21 year old visibly inked friend. Harrump....perhaps it's time to rethink this inking thing after all.

Today is the first day of the rest of your life.

I've decided that it might be time to extend the scope of this blog to include food, love and life. I started this blog ages ago as a way to share my culinary adventures with my friends and family via the web and honestly I had hoped it would be something that my boyfriend (at the time) and I could do together because I thought we lacked "common interests." Fast forward 2 years and I am no longer with said boyfriend but still obsessed with food and still have tons of random thoughts and ruminations that I feel compelled to share with the world.

My posts have been sporadic at best and the layout atrocious. But it's not my fault :( I really hate using the html editor provided by blogger. Maybe I'm retarded or something...but i just can't seem to make this thing look the way I want it to. And it's really depressing when I see blogs by youngins that look super slick and polished. You'd think that with my background in programming that'd I'd be able to get this thing to look good. Oh wells.....I guess it's just not one of my strengths. I'm ok with that...we can't all be good at everything :)

Flat whites and Freedom

Who knew that our aussie aunts, uncles and grand pa and grandmother had a secret plan to lock us Americans away in their little home in North Melbourne. For days, we were forced fed “home cooked” dinners that tasted great but made us yearn all the more for the freedom to go out and buy some food … any food. Seriously. No vacation is complete without checking out the local dining scene … at least not for me.

For some reason, the family thought that we wouldn’t be able to navigate the city on our own and this just baffled me to no end. I mean I’m 30 years old…something that I’m not usually shouting out to the world but in this case I thought it would be enough proof of my competency in life. I really don’t know what kind of stories my father had been feeding these people for the past 20 some years...but it certainly seemed like he failed to inform them that Phuong and I were actually real adults capable of getting around a city without falling victim to kidnappers, gang bangers and other evils that they believed lurked around every corner in Melbourne.

After a few days of what felt like forced imprisonment, I was finally presented with a chance to break free from our confinement. I discovered from one of my aunties that she not only worked in the City but walked there from my grand aunt’s place (the location of our internment) and also there were trams that ran straight into the city and other destinations all around Melbourne. This aunt proved to be our saviour and key to freedom - thanks Vichi.

That very day Phuong, Judie, Michelle and I all left the house bright and early and trailed my auntie to work. We happily trudged past Royal Children’s Hospital, past University of Melbourne and straight by Queen Victoria Market …. right into the city. First stop…coffee shop. A flat white for me, hot chocolates for the girls and of course a meat pie for Phuong. A morning cup of coffee laced with freedom.

The Meat Pie

It’s like a poor man’s chicken pot pie except they’re mostly made without chicken or any real discernable meat. Just a kind of mushy meat-like substance that isn’t half bad smothered in tomato sauce (or as we call it in the states – ketchup) The aussie’s really seem to like their little meat pies because they were being sold at almost every fast food outlet through out Melbourne. Our aussie cousins informed us that the Four And Twenty (which were proudly sold at all 7 Elevens) was an all time favorite. With this kind of recommendation, Phuong couldn’t resist and on our first day exploring the city promptly bought and devoured her first meat pie. That was the beginning of the meat pie madness. For days she went on and on about getting more meat pies.

I wasn’t a huge fan of the weird consistency of the filing despite the fact that I typically like savory pies but somehow this just didn’t work for me. Different strokes for different folks, I guess.

bar ferdinand - happy hour

RAIN?! Again? at what point did I go to bed and wake up in Seattle? Having been born and raised in Philadelphia, I am not a stranger to sub par weather but this past month has been pretty miserable in terms of sunshine. I think we got 2 weeks straight of rainy/t-stormy weather and by Friday I had had enough of it. The sun came out for a few hours and it was motivation for me to go to happhy hour. OK to be honest...it takes very little to get me to go to happy hour and on Fridays it's almost mandatory.

Miss HatT and I decided to head over to the Northern Liberties tapas place called Bar Ferdinand located on N 2nd street. This restaurant has been around for a few years and has had consistently favorable reviews from local critics and the general public but somehow I've never made my way over to it. And oh how I wanted to kick myself after happy hour on Friday.

From food

**white sangria**

Not being a huge fan of tapas even though I love the idea of little plates, sharing food and forced variety due to the small size of the portions....I just never got into the whole tapas trend. Number one, I found that the flavorings were just too similiar in each dish...olive oil, salt and fried. I mean I love fried things as much as the next person...but still I needed more. Number two, the price of the meal when all was said and done felt way too high to justify the portions. I guess it was probably more reason number two, for my unfavorable opinion of tapas eateries. And keep in mind, I have dined at two of the "best" tapas places - Casa Mona (NYC) and Amada (Philadelphia).

However after happy hour, all my previous notions were thrown out the window. Bar Ferdinand made me a beleiver. Miss HatT and I ordered a pitcher of the white sangria and it was OK. The wine they used was a bit dry for my taste...but at half off the regular price....I wasn't going to complain. We chose a potato dish with aioli, a grilled beef skewer with pistachio pesto and a stuffed squid with onion relish. Each dish was delicious. We finished every last bite. I can't wait to go back to try more dishes and the paella.

From food

**potatoes w/aioli**

From food

**Stuffed Squid**

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**Beef Skewer**

When we arrived shortly after 5PM the chefs were just starting up the outdoor paella station and on my way out one pan was just about finished. It looked magnificent with the yellow saffron infused rice, chicken, peas and the whole pan was studded with mussels still in their black jewel like shells. Most of the outdoor seats were filled with hipster who were "in-the-know". I left the restaurant shaking my head mentally kicking myself for not having tried this place sooner. Oh well. I have the rest of the summer to make up for my poor decisions.

hidden city soire 2009

From food

I almost never pass up a tasting event. Hidden City had an event at the Armory in Rittenhouse on Thursday June 28. Miss HatT, my trusty eating companion, joined me in ths cavernous location for a chance to sample dishes from a variety of restaurants in Philadelphia.

From food

The event featured foods from Cafe Spice (old city), Friday Saturday Sunday (rittenhouse), Trio (no libs), El Vez(wash sq west), Swanky bubles (old city) and National Mechanics (old city). They also had a signature cocktail made from a ginger liquor called Domaine De Canton (the distributor is based in Philadelphia) - some sort of lemonade concoction. It wasn't half bad but the sticy summmer weather had me thirsting for something a little less strong and a little less sweet. Honestly by the end of the event I really just wanted to get a glass of ice water.

From food

The place got packed quickly as Miss HatT and I arrived about 20 minutes before the official start time and within about 30 minutes it got packed and within 45 minutes food started to run out at certain stalls. The sushi at Swanky Bubbles was the first to go.

From food

The best thing I tasted was the tomato based chicken curry offered by Cafe Spice. The curry was flavorful and the sauce rich but not heavy or too creamy. The rice was also spiced and quite tasty. The rest of the food at the event was just OK. I mean El Vez only offered chips and guacamole (kinda dissapointing). I think attendees that came during the first hour got the cream of the crop while people who got there around 8PM were unfortunately faced with empty stalls and bar stations with 20 minute lines. I had fun and was glad that I bought the $10 ticket but I'm pretty sure the poor suckers who arrived at 8PM had a different opinion.

From food

Farmer's Markets

From food

Eating fresh produce has always been part of my life. The recent shift towards local and fresh produce and meats has lead to a proliferation of Farmer's Markets all across the city. When I used to live in Chinatown, I would frequently wander around Reading Terminal Market oohing and ahhing over the fresh veggies and meats that the Amish would haul in from Lancaster. But in the past few years there have been quite a few new markets in the area. There's one right in Rittenhouse Park on Saturday mornings. You can buy veggies, meat, diary, honey and baked goods. I've driven by one that is also on Saturdays right at Fitler Square Park. Clark Park also holds a huge farmers/flea market in Saturdays I am told but have yet to try it. Although now that I know that Honest Tom's taco truck is now a regular vendor there...I'm sure I'll also soon be a regular.

I am most familiar with the market that is held at Head House Square. Miss HatT, in her never ending quest to stay busy, decided to volunteer to man the booth at this market so I found myself visiting her on many a sunny Sunday. Let me warn you that this market is VERY popular and is often packed with people and their dogs trying to buy all the fresh veggies and baked goods and meats that the vendors bring in.

From food

I most recently found myself with a bag full of dinosaur kale, green squash and spring onions. I decided to make myself a bastardized version of a portuguese sausage soup that I once saw on the food network. The veggies I listed above were chopped up and thrown into a pot with some smoked keilbasi sausage and voila! my soup. I also added some orzo and frozen corn to round it out. It turned out pretty tasty and it was the perfect way to use up my Farmer's Market's finds.

From food