Meanwhile…

I’ve not written much these many days of February. No, indeed. I’ve been not-writing up a storm, in fact. Though there’s been little tappity-tapping, I have, of course, still been eating.

sweet potato fries (with sea salt, coarse black pepper and rosemary) @ The Leaky Roof
They came as a dollar-extra side with my buffalo burger. The burger was unimpressive (particularly as the [inept, socially awkward and downright weird] server got my order wrong the first time) and later made my tummy, quite unused to eating red meat, pay, pay, pay. The fries, however, more than made up for the misplaced mayonnaise and the bellyache.

habanero “martini” (with pineapple and lemon) @ Vault
Be warned: this incredible, knee-weakening beverage is served at a “martini” bar in the Pearl District. I shall not, this time around, rant about how a drink is not a martini just because it is served in a martini glass. I shall not moan and groan about fake tans or fake boobs, or why we are made to feel funny about consuming calories in public. No. I shall say only this: I would not venture into the Pearl for a drink on the Saturday night with my girlfriends if it weren’t really, really worth it. The habanero burns just long enough and then fades at the back of the palate to a sweet pineapple glow. It is downright addicting, intoxicating (in a way not attributable to the vodka), and worth every minute spent laughing at the orange-tinged guy at the bar. Additional recommendations: the Cilantro, the Cucumber Mojito and the Voodoo Queen.

pho ga (with that whole wonderful plate of stuff) @ Pho Hung . It may seem childish and unimaginative to order chicken noodle soup in a house of Pho, where the menu includes much more exciting Vietnamese fare (tripe, anyone?), but the pho ga is good – just plain, easy, tasty-as-all get-out Good. Never you mind that it’s listed under the “for beginners” section of the menu. Go ahead; and pile on the bean sprouts!

cuban bowl (with grilled draper valley chicken and hot, hot sauce) @ Laughing Planet.
After finishing this pleasant, inexpensive, and tasty meal at my nearby LP, I was completely unable to understand why I don’t eat there every week. The cuban bowl boasts plantains and sweet potatoes and really fresh, bright pico de gallo. Isn’t it swell when you can get up from a meal feeling almost healthier than when you sat down?