On Friday night, I met up with friends at The 3rd Stop after work. They had a large selection of beers on tap, but I dig my local brews, so I stuck with a Craftsman. I had the Biere de Blanco this time. The food options were not Bronwen-friendly, but more on that later. The people I was with enjoyed their meals, which were pretty standard pub fare options.
Saturday morning, I was moving pretty early. We headed out to Flore Vegan in Silverlake for breakfast. I had blueberry pancakes with tempeh bacon. Lemonade was not available at 10am, because the restaurant had run out of lemons. (Okay? Maybe take lemonade off the blackboard then?) The pancakes were fine, but the tempeh bacon was actually quite awful. It was cold and just plain didn’t hold together. I’m really not a fan of breakfast food, but my boyfriend is, so I wanted to give Flore a shot. Lunch was being served simultaneously, and some of the wraps and sandwiches coming out of the kitchen looked fantastic. Next time, I’ll lunch while he breaks.
I recently started eating exclusively vegan foods. I am increasingly intolerant of lactose in my old age. I have traditionally enjoyed a cast-iron stomach; it used to take a hell of a lot to upset my digestion, but this is simply no longer the case. Additionally, I hate eggs, and I don’t like most forms of meat. I find fish, seafood, and cow (at times) tasty, but that’s about it. More recently, meat started giving me similar problems to the dairy. Meat doesn’t really make me feel that much better than dairy does lately. I did a tiny little experiment of cutting out dairy during a 5-day work week, and, dude, it felt fantastic. So, I went more whole hog, very suddenly. It’s really not difficult. I’m cooking, and it turns out I’m pretty good at it. I feel so much better throughout my day, and the health effects that I was hoping to see have already started rather dramatically.
Anyway. I watched some men’s semifinal action. Went to see 3:10 to Yuma. I enjoyed it. The ending was a little sweet, but hey. I tend to forget Russell Crowe exists, but he’s crazy good, right? Despite his talent, Ben Foster nearly stole the movie as far as I was concerned.
We met up with my friend for dinner at Pure Luck after the movie. Pure Luck exists in this very interesting block of Heliotrope where the hardcore cyclists of Los Angeles congregate. Pure Luck serves vegan food & local beer on tap. It may be my favorite restaurant of all time. I split the spring rolls and then had an avocado tostada, washed down with a Craftsman Heavenly Hefe. So good. Afterwards, we walked right across Heliotrope to Scoops, where I had a dish of black sesame & ginger. Scoops serves multiple vegan flavors every day alongside the crazy inventive dairy flavors.
Sunday, I slept! I watched the women’s final, followed by the men’s final. I caught up on comic books. I was treated to dinner at Real Food Daily, which was a very nice treat indeed. We split a hummus plate for an appetizer, and then I ate a good 3/4ths of the supreme burrito. I had some organic pilsner to drink, and I totally forget what it was, but it was tasty enough. I’d try something harder next time. We split a piece of peach/apple pie for dessert. holler.
After dinner, we headed out to the Hollywood Bowl to see Underworld. I was vaguely familiar with Underworld, but I’d never gone out of my way to listen to them. Me and dance music aren’t exactly tight. But they gave a nice performance, and I had a swanky nice seat that I did not pay for, so all was well. I was out past bedtime on a school night though, so I’m a little sleepyheaded today.
A whole mess from Gridskipper:
Vacation, All I Never Wanted — This article is crap. Yes, certainly, wealthy urban- and suburbanites can avail themselves of any number of strip mall spa amenities to feel some tension being lifted, but it’s not the same as actually unplugging and stopping work. I would really love to be able to feel like non-essential personnel and actually get away for more than five days at a time. I, at least, get ten vacation days a year, not that I can really take them in a satisfying lump sum manner given my family lives thousands of miles away.
As a health drink, bottled water is all wet; the triumph of marketing finally gets the scrutiny it deserves — holler. I drink tap water at home. I put it in a pitcher in the fridge because I like my water extremely cold, and I’m too clumsy to use ice. I do not drink the tap water at work, mind you; something’s up with the studio’s pipes or something, because the water tastes unpleasant.
What are downtown’s oddest building amenities? — My building has comparatively normal ones, though we do have one of the mentioned screening rooms. I’ve never used it.
Google Maps redraw the realm of privacy — As of yesterday, Los Angeles became one of the cities with street level photos. Sure enough, my apartment building showed up larger than life. Life on the grid is thrilling.
LA dimsum delights — I drive past Ocean Seafood all the time. I really ought to check it out.
btw, Jay McCarroll is not homeless — thanks for clearing that up.
On Friday, I got my hair cut off after work. But first, on my way to the salon, I had street parked up a hill in Silverlake. I made a misstep coming down the hill, my right ankle buckled, and I fell hard on my left knee. It hurt, but whatever. I get down the hill and realize my knee is wet. Lift the jeans, and, sure enough, it’s Vietnam down there. I enter the salon and — rather smoothly, I do say — said, “Hi, I’m Bronwen. I have an appointment with Jamie at 7:00. Do you have a first aid kit?” The nice desk boy returns with a band-aid. No, that won’t quite do. Some gauze and tape is located; I mop up as best I can. I’m still gushing though, so I’m holding the gauze to my knee being all, “No, really, please cut all my hair off. Seriously.” I was really kind of looking like a crazed pirate at this point, so Jamie believed me.
She cut off a foot of hair — which she was going to donate for me — and now I have a messy, chin length, very layered shag with bangs thing going on. It’s crazy delightful and very versatile. I am enjoying it very much.
Because I am me and I don’t care about propriety so very much, I am wearing a skirt with my huge scar showing to work today. (It may surprise you to learn that August in Los Angeles is hot.) The knee bandages that I bought don’t work so well, so I just have a liquid bandage sprayed on top for protection. I have been employing different reasons for the scar when people have asked how I acquired it: skateboarding accident, eaten by a lawn mower, the proverbial “you should see the other guy,” and my favorite (suggested by my boyfriend), “I had an altercation with Lindsay Lohan.”
So, that’s the haircut. Saturday morning, I went to see The Bourne Ultimatum. Of course, it kicked some ass.
Saturday afternoon was a cooking class at Hipcooks. My friend Shannon had given me a gift certificate to one of their classes for my birthday, and it’s taken me this long to get in to a class I wanted to take. I signed up for “Tarts for Tarts.” The savory tarts were all very eggy, so I wasn’t really into them, but the sweet tarts were fantastic. I would recommend Hipcooks, however, to people with more cooking experience than I have. I felt pretty remedial and embarrassed.
Saturday night was a big birthday party for lots of friends at Seven Grand. Many people showed up, and it was quite fun.
Sunday morning was epic. It’s my new go-to anecdote, so I am totally not wasting it here. The happenings were real, and they were spectacular.
Sunday night, I joined my boyfriend and his parents for dinner at the Village Idiot. His parents are friends with the parents of the chef there, so we were all dining together and chatting. I totally reverse what I wrote about this place earlier. Why’s that? The food was fucking ace. I didn’t eat there when I was there before, but, man, was this meal good. With a Craftsman beer accompanying, it was really a very perfect evening.
Last night, I went to the Village Idiot for a farewell to Vanessa party. As a Los Angeles interpretation of a pub, it was spot on: ridiculously airy high ceilings, inadequate seating, and way more wine selection than anything else. They had three Craftsman beers on tap. I tried both the hefeweizen and the pale ale, both of which were pleasant. The pale ale had a lovely smoky finish. I would recommend the Village Idiot for only this kind of after work, centrally-located event. I doubt I’ll be back often.