Away for a Few Days

First, I want to apologize for not leaving comments on some of my favorite sites. I'm still visiting, but won't be leaving any "evidence" of my visits or my thoughts.

Someone accidentally shut a car door on my right hand this Monday, and I had to go to the emergency room to get it "fixed up" with glue and gauze tape. One of my fingers looked especially grotesque. (Don't read the rest of this paragraph if you are the "easy-to-become-queasy" type.) Essentially, it was comparable to BallparkTM hot dog, that had plumped too much from being over-boiled, and had split open.

The bad news is, is that I have to wear an aluminum finger splint, which makes typing very difficult. The good news is, is that I get to read your wonderful posts and comments while I am gone. I hope to be back soon, in both posts and comments.

Take care everyone, and in the words of Eat, Drink, and Be Merry, thank you for reading.

Amusing Musings on Marnee Thai

The best place for Thai in the city of San Francisco and its environs is Marnee Thai. I mentioned it briefly in a previous post, but I want to fully explain everything, from the appetizing angel wings, to its celebrated pad thai. Why the sudden motivation for this post? Well, I just went to Marnee Thai this week, and was able to snap a generous amount of shots of my meal there. Thus, this post is so that I may pander to your viewing pleasure.

Although I hardly ever order appetizers at restaurants, I always begin with the wonderfully sticky angel wings at Marnee Thai. The crinkly, deep-fried Thai basil looks beautiful atop the gooey wings, and they taste even more delicious. The basil crackles and evaporates onto your tongue like a fresh communion wafer. The light sprinkling of nutty sesame seed-like granules pop in your mouth as you bite into the chicken, and the wings are coated in a concoction made from sweet, nectared honey.

However, eating the wings is impossible to do so with chopsticks or a fork. Unfortunately, if you use your hands to eat the wings, you will experience "Cheetos-finger syndrome," (when your fingers become stained and sullied with a ghastly mess that cannot be cleaned with a dry napkin). Furthermore, another pitfall of the wings, is that if you smell your besmirched fingers after devouring a set of the wings, they will reek of vulgar-smelling fish sauce. However, you won't notice the smell of your fingers, when the visually-appealing main dishes are delivered to your table.

Marnee Thai's pad thai is world-renowned for a reason. Unlike other Thai restaurants, Marnee Thai perfectly harmonizes the sourness of tamarind paste with a rich sugary flavor that tastes like it came straight from the sugarcane. Additionally, the silken rice noodles aren't just sloppily coated in sauce, but are cooked until they have absorbed and fully inhaled the flavor of the sauce into its body. The other ingredients only accentuate the majestic flavor of the sauce: cooling and invigorating bean sprouts; leafy feathers of cilantro; crunchy curls of pink shrimp; and munchable crushed peanuts.

Other than the pad thai, I'd say that the other dishes I've ordered are generally pretty good. For instance, in addition to tender slivers of duck meat, the duck red curry has refreshing bites of tomato, julienned bell peppers, rolly-polly green peas, and moist chunks of pineapple, all swimming in a pool of curry-infused coconut milk. The duck red curry is pretty good. It isn't the best I've ever had in San Francisco, but it tastes great with the pad thai (like how everything does).

The last dish that we ordered on this week's trip to Marnee Thai also merits a recommendation. It was the seafood combo, which really did "combine" many seafoods together, including: delicate squid tentacles, julienned ginger, circular rounds of scallops, mussels on the half shell, shrimp, and colorful bell peppers. But if you order the seafood combo, be careful of the twiggy sprigs that are decorated with spicy peppercorns--they are just like bay leaves, because they are not to be eaten.

I hope that this post got you in the mood. . . In the mood for Thai food! If you live in the San Francisco area and have never tried Marnee Thai, or will be visiting the San Francisco area sometime soon, just remember that Marnee Thai is high on my list of "SF" restaurant recommendations.

Food Humiliation

This past Wednesday, our office threw a reception for the leaders of each of the nationwide district divisions of our organization. (I'll call these leaders, the "district heads.") Suffice it to say, it was a humongous deal.

During the reception, I was deeply engaged in conversation with one of the "district heads," and began enthusiastically motioning with my hands to better make my point. However, as I swept my open palms upward towards the ceiling, I accidentally "karate-chopped" the stem of a filled wine glass on the table in front of me. The wine emptied into the sky, and looked like a liquid boomerang flying in mid-air.

(Imagine the following sequence in slow motion.)

All I could do watch the falling wine with my mouth open. We saw the ribbon of wine land from head-to-heels on the back of another "district head," who conveniently happened to be wearing a cream-colored, khaki suit.

Oh crap.

The room fell silent. All background noises screeched to a halt. Everyone was looking at me.

Seeing the wine fall on the "district head's" back was like watching a Pepé Le-Pew cartoon from the Looney Tunes. (Remember when the black cat would accidentally get a stripe of white paint brushed on the back of her fur coat, so she looked like a skunk?) Well, almost. It was infinitely worse, because the wine didn't just land on his back in a long, unruly "stripe," but there was also this huge "splat" of wine, right on his butt. The wine stain on his derrieré literally was the size of a bowling ball. However, how one glass of wine can make a bowling ball-sized stain is beyond me.

As everyone looked at me, I did the only think I could do. I tried to hold in my sniggers and giggles, and they busted right out of me. Unfortunately, I was the only laughing.

Well, that night was a disaster.

Thanks for listening to my "embarassment of the week." I had to get it off my chest.

Also, since I am posting, I'll just let everyone know that I am calling "time in" again. Thus, if you have a meme and would like to tag me, feel free. I just wanted to space out my posts so that I wouldn't have several meme posts in a row! In fact, I've already been tagged, so look forward to my response to another meme, soon!

Dine About Town 2006: Part One, Absinthe Brasserie & Bar

Dine About Town for San Francisco is here for 2006! For those of you who haven't heard of Dine About Town before, it is a perennial, city-wide promotional program, where upper-end restaurants offer prix-fixe, three-course meals for either lunch, dinner, or both. Lunch is $22.00, and dinner is $32.00. Plus tax and tip (but without drinks), it evens out to be around $29.00 for lunch and $41.00 for dinner--a fabulous deal if you select a restaurant that is otherwise exorbitant.

My colleagues from work and I made reservations for lunch this past Thursday at Absinthe Brasserie and Bar. Before we were seated, one of my co-workers informed me, that the Los Angeles Times recently sent down a travel columnist to report back about her Dine About Town experience. The columnist actually had a "negative" Dine About Town experience, because of the "regular price" paying customers who complained about the wave of uncouth who swamped restaurants, and the supercilious restaurant staff who acted condescendingly towards Dine About Towners.

I wanted to test out these allegations, and make sure they were just isolated and deviant experiences. Unfortunately, they did have some truth--and I actually already knew that from my previous Dine About Town experiences.

I'd be a liar if I didn't tell you that I was a tad disappointed in Absinthe's Dine About Town menu. The three-course meal consisted of: 1) the "soup of the day" or the "salad of the day," 2) the "entrée of the day," and 3) a choice of three citrus sorbets. In my experience, sometimes when menu offerings are appended with the notorious "of the day" phrase, it means that the restaurant is serving the leftovers that it couldn't sell yesterday. However, I couldn't complain too much, because some restaurants don't even give Dine About Towners any options. At least we had that.

While we were placing our orders, my co-worker kindly asked if she could have the French onion soup as the "soup of the day," and our waitress's reaction was classic. She raised her arched brows (not quizzically, but with a look of profound haughtiness) and dryly replied, "Umm . . . No."

Okay Los Angeles Times, I agree.

Given our waitress's succinct answer, everyone at our table decided to start with the "salad of the day," (rather than the creamy mushroom "soup of the day"). The salad consisted of sliced fennel with blood orange which was drizzled with a light citrus vinaigrette. The flavor of crunchy, licorice-tinged fennel was heightened by the sweet and sour tang from the blood orange and the lovely bites of pitted and chopped dates.

Our choice for the entrée was limited to fettuccine pasta with rich cheese sauce, toasted bread crumbs, and chopped nuts, but I wouldn't have had any other entrée--the fettuccine was amazing. The pasta was perfectly cooked until al dente, and the crispy bread crumbs crackled like fireworks inside my mouth. The sauce was silken, and not too heavy.

Finally, our three-course meal concluded with a frosty sorbet, and the ladies at our table ordered every available flavor: blood orange, tangerine, and lemon. I ordered the tangerine sorbet, and it was artfully presented in a dainty martini glass. The sorbet was cool and refreshing, and it wasn't overpoweringly tart--even though it was ice-cold and had slightly sour kiss. However, I felt that the cinnamon dusted butter cookie that accompanied the sorbet was a little out of place. The taste of cinnamon reminds me of warmth and sweetness, so I was taken aback by it's presence next a chilly sorbet with a sour twang.

After the conclusion of our meal, my full belly and dazzled taste buds thanked me profusely for participating in the Dine About Town program. Okay, we did have a brief encounter with an "annoyed" waitress, but I'm not going to a restaurant to make friends with the waitstaff. Instead, I am pursuing an incredible meal at bank-breaking prices. I'm sure that other San Franciscans heartily agree with me. My co-workers and I are all trying at least two new restaurants through this 2006 session of Dine About Town, and many others will too. We count ourselves as being fortunate to be able to live in San Francisco and sample some of the cities best restaurants through the Dine About Town program. As long as they have the program, I know I'll be a repeat customer.

Post Note: After spending $31.00 for lunch, you may want to first give your lightened wallet a break before hitting the three-course meals again. Although our lunch selection was affordable when compared to Absinthe's $70.00 prix-fixe lunch offering of caviar and oysters, I had to let my wallet rejuvenate at a cheap pho restaurant, where I was able to pick up a two-course dinner for under $8.00. Nice!

Okay, Waaay Too Much Information

Wow, I was tagged again! This time, it is for a non-food related topic, and I was tagged by Paul of Kiplog and also by Tara of Love, Food, Wine, and Good Chick Flix. After I finish this post, I am going to go back in time to grade school, and put up my "invisible safety wall," so that I can't be tagged "it," until I call "time-in" again! :)

This meme is called "Too Much Information," and allows me to share ten interesting, and little-known facts about me. Okay, here goes:

1. Although people with regular working immune systems cannot get chicken pox twice, I have had chicken pox twice in my life: first, during second grade, and the second time was during a period when my immune system was seriously depressed. My treating doctor physically called me a "medical deviant."

2. I started turning gray when I was five years old.

3. Last month, I got a hair cut . . . And cut over 12 inches of hair off.

4. In high school, I was on the softball team that won state championships. Now, I haven't worked out in two years.

5. I did a reading for a milk commercial when their tag line was still "She/he likes milk and it shows, it does a body good!" Did I get chosen to do the commercial? Well, I didn't quit my day job, but I'd like to believe I got "pretty far" past the lengthy list of aspiring actors and actresses.

6. Growing up, my dream occupation was to become the first Asian Country Music star. Seriously.

7. My current beau is movie star who is friends with big-name celebrities--well, he was an extra in a movie with Will Smith, and has "spoken" once with Jason Lee (the one from "My Name is Earl").

8. Members of my immediate family used to be professional palm readers.

9. I unknowingly was the next-door neighbor to someone who was featured on America's Most Wanted--I was his neighbor after he committed the crime and while he was still on the loose.

10. I am allergic to cats and dogs. Okay, so that wasn't every interesting, but hey, I ran out of ideas!

Hope that meme was fun to read! I am going to tag . . . No one for now.

Eat This Letterman! My Top Ten Favorite Foods

I was recently tagged (actually, quite a while ago) by Kirk of Mmm-Yoso!!! for the "You Are What You Eat" meme, and I just took enough pictures this weekend to feel okay about posting My Top Ten Favorite Foods of all time.

Initially, this post seemed relatively easy, because I voluntarily talk and think about my favorite foods regularly and without provocation. However, as I was writing this meme, I realized it is very difficult to narrow down one's Top Ten favorite foods, especially when you love so many foods for so many different reasons. If you are even reading this food blog, I know you feel this way.

Luckily, after deep contemplation, I was finally able to narrow it down to ten. Ready, set, go for the countdown!

#10. Ice Cream and Frozen Yogurt

When I was "prepping" for this post, I asked a friend from Maryland what his ten favorite foods were. Each and every selection he made was some type of seafood. His amusing response helped me to gain a better understanding of how our current tastes and preferences are deeply entrenched into us from practices, family traditions, and memorable childhood experiences.

For me, ice cream is a "favorite food" that unequivocally reflects my upbringing in the deep south (west) as an Arizonan. In addition to tall glass of cold ice tea, my Dad taught me that a frosty ice cream bar is the "absolute best way" to ease the effects of a blistering day. The moment the creamy, chilled sensation of ice cream touches my lips, I am transported back to my childhood. It is an indescribable feeling of sweet euphoria.

#9. Tomatoes

Tomatoes are another childhood favorite of mine. I remember when my parents would splurge and bring the family to an expensive seafood buffet. I was the only person in the entire restaurant who didn't load up on shrimp and king crab legs. Instead, I high-tailed it to the (oft-loathsome looking) "spaghetti with tomato sauce" tray and would also shovel miniature cherry tomatoes onto my buffet plate. Although my parents probably didn't think they got their money's worth, I always did.

Now that my tastes have evolved into those of an adult, I still adore fresh tomatoes and all kinds of tomato sauce.

#8. Potatoes

This is why I could never go on Atkins / South Beach / the Zone. I love everything potato: potato salad, mashed potatoes, potatoes au gratin, scalloped potatoes, french fries, and baked potatoes. What else can one say about a powerful root vegetable that has been associated both famine in Ireland and morbid obesity in the United States? Amazing.

#7. Garlic

Smell my mouth after every meal, and you'll know why garlic is called "the stinking rose." Sorry Emeril-haters, but I agree with the guy when it comes to adding garlic to every meal. [Applause.]

#6. Curries

Although the pictures above are of Hawaiian curry in a plate lunch, I love all kinds of curries, including Thai and Pacific Islander curries made with creamy coconut milk, spicy Indian curries, simple Japanese curries, and also the Chinese curry my Mom used to make--with just carrots, yellow onions, potatoes, and chicken. In the words of Snoop Dogg, "dizzam, cuzzurry izzle delicizzle!"

#5. Rice

I am passionate about freshly steamed long-grain jasmine rice, short-grain calrose rice, and even the devilish-looking black rice! Plus, I love cooking and eating rice dishes like fried rice, coconut rice, Spanish rice, pilafs, risotto, and best of all, rice porridge with thousand-year-old-eggs.

#4. Eggs

Even though my "picture-taking-skills" still need massive improvement, I think that these pictures speak for themselves. Eggs are so versatile, and they add so much flavor and unique texture to dishes. Just think about airy and cloud-like meringues and a thick gelatinous custard. I'd say my favorite part of an egg though, is the yolk. You cook it in a different way, and you have an entirely different substance: runny yellow or creamy and fluffy fully-cooked yolk. (I'm gonna give you the laundry list again . . .) I can eat em' scrambled, sunny-side-up, over easy, boiled, poached, and even fermented until they become black and gray!

#3. Sandwiches and Hamburgers

Sandwiches and hamburgers are the perfect combination of all the necessary food groups: meat, grains, vegetables, and dairy. They are also the perfect meal for me, anytime, everytime.

#2. Meat-Filled Dumplings, Pies, Breads, and Fritters

Eating a meat-filled bun always is a wonderful surprise. I can't describe the feeling I get from biting into a hot meat-filled package other than, "it's waaaay better than getting the best prize in a Cracker Jack or cereal box." After all, it's not made of cheap cardboard or plastic, but it is an overflow of hearty and savory deliciousness. For me, it's even better than winning the lottery or being proposed to by George Clooney. . . I know. It is seriously that good. Just think of the incredible spectrum of meat-filled buns and pies, there's: empanadas, dim sum, wontons, shao loeng baos, gyozas, samosas, and so much more.

Annnddd finally, Passionate Eater's number one favorite food of all time is:

#1. Noodles and Pasta

Now that I got to my "Number One Food," I've run out of things to say. I am thinking though, of a hot bowl of any Asian noodle soup, and of the pad thai that I had yesterday night at the award-winning Marnee Thai.

Also, worth mentioning is my love for "fancy" teas. (I wanted to talk about my favorite "drink" too.) Unfortunately, these teas don't come cheap, and can put one back $50-$100 bucks for a gourmet set. But again, like the $35 buck spaghetti and cherry tomato buffet, it's worth every red cent!

In closing, I'd like you to reflect on the quote that inspired this meme in the first place:

"Tell me what you eat and I will tell you what you are." - Anthelme Brillat-Savarin

Remember, though:

"I am whatever you say I am." - Eminem

And, I just wanted to tag. . . You! Hey, don't shut the web browser! Wait a minute, come back here!

Please feel free to share with me (and the world wide web) your Top Ten Favorite Foods!

Katimugambalon has already posted his delicious list!

And so has Elmomonster! See his list in the comments section of this post.

My Food-Related New Year's Resolutions

New Year's Resolution #1: Eating instant noodles less than once a week.

Okay, I'll admit, some types of instant noodles are good, like "instant" pad kapraw (above), but I don't want to be like that guy my Mom always warns me about. You know, that single elderly man who lived off of instant ramen noodles, and was found "perfectly preserved" in his home, five years after he died! The urban legend goes, is that the man was "preserved" because the sodium and other preservatives in instant noodles did unnatural things to his body.

New Year's Resolution #2: To have meaningful "dinners" with my family and friends.

I recently read a disheartening article about how families are no longer spending time with each other at the dinner table. I have decided that this year (and for every year for the rest of my life), that for at least five days every week, I will sit down and eat dinner at home without watching television. (For those of you who know me personally, this is actually going to be "really" hard.)

Plus, it's not just going to be "eating with no T.V.," but I also will talk about at least two emotions that I am feeling on that day. Thus, if I am melancholy, I am going to explain what made me feel sad. No cheap "weather" discussions at the table.

New Year's Resolution #3: Eating out less, but eating "gourmet" more.

I remember when I was still a college student, I thought that the moment I graduated, I could finally pursue my idealistic dreams of making 5-course meals (with sausages I stuffed myself from hormone-free pork casings and organic kimchi I fermented in my own backyard) for dinner every night. "No homework, exams, or studying" meant more free time to do what I loved: to cook.

But now that I've entered the working world, instead of cooking for myself, I just eat take-out from one of my neighborhood restaurants. My justification is that, "I work my knuckles to the bone, day-in-and-day out, and I want to come home to a warm dinner!"

I've realized that to have "home-cooked" dinners on a work-night, that I'll need to start taking short-cuts and doing advanced prep for meals on the weekends. Thus, if I need to resort to the short-cut of using sauce-dispensing chopsticks, so be it.

Image from http://item.rakuten.co.jp/yume/09816/

Fusion Combinations: What Works and What Doesn't

This holiday season has been wonderful to me so far--I was recently treated to a generous meal at Tangerine: Pacific Rim Restaurant.

Tangerine is a moderately-priced Asian-fusion restaurant (meaning "$$$$" not "$$$$$"), with an ambient, glowing, amber décor. It's welcoming and best of all, has a special on Tuesdays where the entire tab is 20% off! Furthermore, unlike another popular Asian-fusion restaurant (that shall "remain unnamed" like the Evil Dark Lord Voldemort in the Harry Potter novels) the servers weren't "geisha-wannabes," but instead, we had a talkative, flamboyant, and stylish waiter.

We originally had trouble deciding on what to order (much to the distressed chagrin of our waiter) but we eventually started with two appetizers: 1) seafood-stuffed portobello mushroom skewers and 2) roasted duck spring rolls with a green mango dipping sauce.

The spring rolls were presented in a fancy nouveau-Asian-fusion manner: the spring rolls were sliced on a bias and alternated next to one another like opposing chess pieces, delicate tendrils of shaved carrots adorned the long serving plate, and sitting next to the spring rolls was a small tea cup filled with dipping sauce.

The taste of the spring rolls was similarly innovative. However, I thought that the characteristic sweet-salty-tangy flavor of the Peking duck sometimes overpowered other subtle "spring roll" flavors that were vying for my attention. I think there were some vegetables inside the crispy-skinned rolls, but I didn't even know they were there when next to the duck.

The dipping sauce was stellar. It tasted almost like it was made from pureéd banana, but our waiter informed us it was made from a complex combination of green mangos, wasabi, and mayonnaise. The spring roll dipping sauce was intended for a supporting role, but the striking green hue and intense flavor brought it to the center stage. Small touches really make a difference at Tangerine. Even the water they serve at Tangerine is flavored with peach syrup.

(Unfortunately, I was unable to successfully capture a clear image of the portobello skewers, so I won't go into a detailed description.)

My companion ordered the grilled salmon, which was served with a sweet mango salad and paired with a simple sushi roll. The salmon was a steak-cut (not a filet-cut) and was pleasantly grilled to medium-rare. The sushi rolls were stuffed with arugula, and other fresh vegetables, and showered with a light sprinkling of black sesame seeds.

Zileel (the great friend who recommended and spearheaded our visit to Tangerine) ordered the sea bass with edamame beans in a black bean sauce, which was served on a wilted bed of spinach and a delicate mound of jasmine rice. Although I didn't sample any of the sea bass, Zileel only had the highest praise for her entrée. She lauded the fish for being both tender and crispy at the same time--this was similar to the acclaim being doled out by "my" companion, the one who had ordered the salmon.

Zileel's companion ordered the herb and pistachio-encrusted New Zealand lamb chops baked in a honey sauce. The lamb chops were served with "spicy" rice and roasted bell peppers. I sampled a bite of the lamb chops, and they packed a tight, gamey punch.

Unfortunately, I was cursed with the "dud" of the evening, and those who tasted my dish sorrowfully agreed. I ordered the pork back ribs cooked in a saffron-tomato sauce and served with assorted vegetables. The ribs were served with jasmine rice, which was deceptively hidden under leaves of Swiss chard. It almost made me think I had a jungzi (Chinese tamale), but when I opened the bland leaves, all it revealed was a tasteless pile o' rice. Yippee.

The ribs were unenjoyable because they were made with too much pepper. How can you use pepper when you're using saffron? That's like buying a 1-oz truffle for $250, chopping it up very finely, and stir-frying it with bittermelon and ten pounds of regular button mushrooms. Why would you spend that much money on one really expensive ingredient, and then drown out that ingredient with really cheap ingredients? It just ain't right man. It just ain't right.

Plus, the "assortment" of vegetables that my dish was served with, were a motley combination of vegetable rejects: okra, and some weird chile peppers. The slimy, mucilaginous texture of the okra, the itchy okra hair, and crunchy pepper seeds kept squirming around on my tongue like a a pile of living insects. Simply put, my order didn't turn out to be my "cup of tea."

Ultimately, I had a great time that evening, and would definitely return to Tangerine, but just realized that I am generally very unlucky when it comes to ordering Asian-fusion dishes. My friends had a great time, and loved their entrées--and I did too---but, I gotta take some cues from them next time, on how to order Asian-fusion the right way.

Why Did'ja Do It to Me Sam Woo? My Restaurant Manifesto

For the 7+ hour drive down to Southern California from Northern California, my family has designated certain pitstops as places we "always" stop, even if we don't need to fill up on gas or go to the restroom. One pitstop is the fast food haven in Lost Hills, and the other one is Sam Woo in San Gabriel. The Sam Woo that acts as our rest-stop, is not from the Sam Woo Seafood Restaurant lineage (referred to "Sam Woo-bourgeoisie," because it is generally priced around $10/entreé), but it is the Sam Woo BBQ Restaurant (referred to "Sam Woo-proletariat," because it is priced around $5/entreé), or as I like to call it, "the Sam Woo for the working, blue-collar people."

When I recently drove down to visit my parents, I was accompanied by a friend from the East Coast who had eaten in the Monterey Park/San Gabriel area before. He told me before, that Southern California is "nirvana" or "Garden of Eden" for a Chinese-food lover. As we slowly crept our way through the hellish bowels of Los Angeles traffic, he wanted me to suggest a cheap and delicious place we could grab a quick Chinese meal. I was pretty confident that Sam Woo would deliver on his expectations.

When we finally arrived, we were physically exhausted, irritable, and our buttocks were sore and tense from sitting in bumper-to-bumper holiday traffic. Both of us were expecting a meal to "satisfy the masses."

When we were seated, I was surprised by the lack of patrons in the restaurant. I remember there was always a line with large families waiting for seats, and how the old grandparent-types would sit in the waiting area reading their daily newspapers. That day, the restaurant wasn't even half full. But when I looked around, I was happy to see the same waiter there (he must have been working there for about ten years), and also I was overjoyed to see that prices hadn't changed either. $4-5 bucks for choice entreés? They need to move a Sam Woo up to the Bay Area!

Since my friend was the driver, I let him call the shots (I let him order, with only minimal interference).

Our first dish of coeng ching tsai arrived in a monstrous looking mound. Because I had been pandering to my friend's belief that Monterey Park was the "promised land," I tried to describe the faults in the dish as an unusual deviation. But as soon as I tasted it, I realized there were no redeeming qualities to the pile of flaccid, slimy, and fibrous mash.

Okay. Maybe our pent-up road rage was causing us to be easily disgruntled. "Give it another chance," I pleaded to both him and myself.

Ten minutes after the coeng ching tsai had arrived, the next dish hit the table. I had more of a role in ordering the hi shen tsow mein (seafood chow mein), thus, it felt like a steel-semi truck of disappointment hit me in my gut when I saw the way the dish looked. The noodles were mangled and mottled up like a hairball made of greasy orange yarn. See, when my Dad ordered the "same" dish from Sam Woo, I remember decoratively-quartered leaves of baby bok choy gracing a symettrical and crispy pan-fried cake of golden egg noodles. I remember huge pieces of shrimp, white fish, scallops, and squid. I also remember that the sauce perfectly coated the noodles, so as not to ruin the crispiness of fried noodles, but to provide a harmonious balance of flavor and texture.

Our hi shen tsow mein looked like the waiter gave us a dish that an unsatisfied guest had sent back, and the cooks just re-fried the whole thing together again for the next people who were unfortunate enough to order the same thing--us. There were no crispy noodles. None. There was no bright bok choy. None. Just oily, soggy noodles and sporadic bites of seafood.

After waiting for fifteen minutes, we thought that the waiter forgot to write down our final order. We were about to leave and pay our bill, when he came rushing out with our plate of jow yen yo yee (deep-fried and salted squid). This is actually something that I didn't have a lot of experience with eating or ordering, so I didn't have very high expectations. However, my friend did. One bite, and he spit back into his napkin. "This dish is not worth eating, let's pay the bill and go now," he resignedly grunted.

"Wait a minute, I'm not going to pay for a dish and only have you eat one bite!" I angrily retorted, as I shoved an entire fried fritter into my mouth.

Although the jow yen yo yee was colorfully presented and looked delicious, the taste was something else. Stale oil permeated the batter-coating and made it taste like a musty closet--complete with the strange moth ball aroma. Plus, they took the "yen" (salt) part of the recipe to a new extreme. It was so salty, I could feel my mouth reflexively and unconsciously puckering, as if trying to expel what was inside of it.

After we paid the bill and began to exit the shopping plaza where Sam Woo was located, my friend asked me whether I would go back again.

Would I go back again? Oh hayelll yea! It's Sam Woo! So the food was bad one day, no big deal. No "invisible hand" will ever drive me away from Sam Woo. It's given me too many great memories, full bellies, and cheap meals for me to ever change my ideology.

I'm Not Bitter! Jealous? Maybe.

Hi. Umm. This is awkward.

When I haven't spent time with someone in a long time, holding a conversation can be intimidating.

It's been almost an entire week since my last post. Unfortunately, my pre-holiday workload has been exhausting. I've been faced with: looming pre-2005 work deadlines, tiring holiday parties, maniacal Christmas shoppers at the mall, needing to robotically scour Craigslist to find a new place, and packing and moving thousands of boxes with rock-solid junk.

Whew! But I haven't forgotten about the faithful friends of Passionate Eater. I am going to make "time stand still" to discuss a meal that I have been meaning to write about for over two weeks: the meal I had at my friend's "corporate" holiday party. It will definitely be a stark contrast to the holiday potluck at my work--which is well . . . let's just say very, very anti-corporate.

As I've indicated in some of my previous posts, I have been trying to glean "entertaining" ideas from my friends, the television, and various magazines to prepare for some parties that my companion and I have in the works. The "corporate" holiday party was a way for me to scrutinize (and criticize) how high-powered and well-paid executives like to be fed at their get-togethers, and also it was an excellent forum for me to blatantly rip off good ideas from fancy caterers.

One table I paid particular attention to, was the crudité table. Usually, for my own entertaining purposes, I just arrange cleaned vegetables in concentric circles on a large serving platter. Okay, not very original, and I'll admit I get my inspiration from Safeway / Vons. Plus, I usually just use celery and carrots. (Again, not particularly innovative, but it gets the job done.) That's why I was impressed with the "corporate" spread of jicama, three colors of sliced bell peppers, turnips, multi-colored radishes, and baby carrots--and these weren't the pre-peeled, pre-washed, and bulk-packaged baby carrots that have their edges chemically sanded off! The carrots still had their tops and looked "natural"!

The next table that I vigorously inspected, had a selection that actually wasn't that appealing to me as an "entertaining snack." I love dim sum, but there is inevitable "weird" feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever dim sum is not being eaten for breakfast. Example: Imagine eating oatmeal or Lucky Charms and milk for dinner. See? It's kinda wrong.

Also, I was taught to eat dim sum in moderation, and only sneak petite bites of each dumpling between prolonged sips of tea. Wolfing down a bundle of those dumplings can be a nightmare to my rapidly inflating waste line.

However, just because I probably wouldn't serve dim sum when entertaining my own guests, didn't mean that I didn't load up on the tasty buns like I hadn't eaten in five days.

Another "note to self" I made during the "corporate" party, was not to serve communal soufflé.

I also really liked the idea of serving "one" piece of seafood with vibrant flavors and vivid garnishes--like a scallop or oyster served on the half-shell with a sprig of mint and lemon zest, or one tail-on shrimp encrusted with black and white sesame seeds.

Warning: These next images are particularly graphic. Please do not view them unless you are certain you will not be jealous or angry.

Okay, now I officially hate Corporate America! They can afford to hire caterers to hand-mold sushi for them at their buffet tables!

But my hatred and jealously was partly redeemed by a tremendous entertaining faux pas--at least in my eyes: the dreaded and contaminated chocolate fountain. I call it, "the breeding ground for disease."

I never understood the appeal of a chocolate fountain. Just seeing filthy hands reaching towards the sloppy brown sludge that is sliding down a hot metal tower makes me nauseous to the point blacking out.

By the way, the hand on the left is mine.