Thursday, October 10, 2013

Butchering Pig Heads, Ramen Burgers and Such

I've decided to take a break from online shopping for winter coats that make me look like a smart, highbrow skank like Olivia Pope (Scandal reference--if you don't understand, kill yourself) and am attempting to recount the horrors I've experienced while trying to feed myself. 

I'm sure this topic is passe at this point and I am on the late train (WHAT'S NEW/WHO CARES), but I ate the ramen burger. The original ramen burger from Brooklyn. I'm sure all food nerds are done nutting themselves over this and the rest of the population is generally unimpressed by this feat, but I feel the need to write about this because I waited FOUR HOURS in goddamn TORRANCE in the sweltering heat for this thing. Trust me, I am not proud of this. 

As expected, the line was full of every Asian nerd that is a member of Congress in the United States of Yelp--myself included. It was 9 am and I'd never hung out with my friends this early before and it became awkward, so we started pounding Kirin cans and spam musubi's. 
I think it was around after two hours of waiting in line that I announced that I would go on a rampage if I didn't experience nirvana. 

Luckily, I was too hot, fat and in need of ice cream to put any energy into a public rampage at a Japanese supermarket on a Sunday morning. In short, it sucked. I'm not trying to be mean or knock their hustle because I respect hustlin' to the highest degree, but take a look at what I had versus what I was expecting. 


The point is, be weary of internet sensation hybrid foods and Instagram filters and DO NOT WAIT IN LINE FOR ANYTHING FOR FOUR HOURS. THIS IS WHY I HATE DISNEYLAND!!!

So, I have discovered the endless joys of Mexican supermarkets and have discovered what I believe to be the Whole Foods of Mexican supermarkets--NORTHGATE MARKET! They are a chain throughout Southern California and I have become a regular at the one in Boyle Heights. 

I was perusing the meat section one day when I came across a pig head for $11 and threw that thing in my cart and punted it into the trunk of my car as any other Filipino with half a brain would do. 

If there's one thing I've learned from my trips to the motherland, it's that proper pork sisig can only be achieved by making it with the face of a pig. This pig head inspired the Lapu Lapu (the  guy who allegedly killed Ferdinand Magellan aka the Filipino equivalent of Conan) in me to cook a Filipino feast since I never eat Filipino food anymore. 

Everything looks sexier in a cast iron skillet and with a fried egg in the middle. Something to keep in mind if you are planning to take nude photos anytime soon. 

Lumpia. Basically egg rolls without all those bullshit vegetables.

Kare Kare. It's basically oxtail swimming in peanut butter and veggies. I highly recommend slow cooking oxtail in a crock pot. I plan on making oxtail tacos very soon. 


In preparation for my upcoming trip to Paris, I also made beef bourguignon. This was the only inspiration that I took away from that cinematic abortion, Julia and Julia. The recipe said to use a good dry wine, so naturally, I looked for something with monkeys on the label. I paired it with quinoa because it is rumored that quinoa is healthier than bread and at the moment, I am pretending that I value health. 

On a classier note, my friend Mimi took a special trip to Jamaica and I threatened her every single day before she left so that she would bring me back JAMAICAN BEEF PATTIES. 

Diligent, well-placed threats can get you very far in life. These patties are a testament to that...SO GOOD. 

I aspire to travel to Jamaica indefinitely and get an internship with a Jamaican patty specialist and get impregnated by a Marley. If anyone can have this arranged, please contact me. 

Monday, August 26, 2013

My Favorite Things: San Francisco and Chicken Wings

It's always good to get out of LA for a bit because it's relaxing to get away from the chaos and traffic, but really, my respiratory system requires relief from the toxins floating about in the atmosphere from time to time. My favorite retreat is my homeland of San Francisco because I appreciate when municipalities adopt laissez-faire attitudes toward open-container laws. I can think of fewer things more liberating than drinking in public without being harassed or fined. The only thing better than this is probably drinking in public while nude, which is also legal in San Francisco. 

My most recent trip to SF started off with me forcing my little brother to take me directly to Turtle Tower's location in SOMA. It is conveniently located across from the county jail, which only means that there are plenty of eligible bachelors in the area. Aside from that, I love this pho more than anything. As Rich Homie Quan would say, handmade noodles make me feel some type of way.

I don't care what anyone says, good soup is meant to be eaten with your hands. 
After submerging my head in a bowl of soup and sucking it dry with my nostrils, I was parched. My brother and I headed down the street to 21st Amendment to pre-game for the Giant's game. For some reason, I end up here every time I come home because I want the Hell or High Watermelon Wheat Beer on draft but they are ALWAYS sold out. But not this time. The beer gods were ever in my favor that day and it was weird, because beer gods normally hate me.


I love the Giants and the Crazy Crab'z sandwich at AT&T Park is responsible for at least 80% of my love. Pablo Sandoval's sweet bod in that uniform is responsible for the other 20%. I've written sonnets about this sandwich on here before, but this sandwich deserves to be praised daily. I had one and split another one with my friend, Erika. This was after we took customary thizz face pictures in front of the field in honor of Mac Dre's birthday.


Get it, boo. 
I cracked my phone screen and lost my ATM card this glorious night. Had this not happened, I would have had the best day of my life. I understand that Jesus does not like to send me mixed signals about restoring my faith in his mercy for me--so I believe he did this to keep me check. Well played, Jesus.

The next day, I made my pilgrimage to Dolores Park so that I could sit in the grass with my pals and essentially sit there until we rot. This is just what the youth of San Francisco do--drink in parks until they reach paralysis.

An array of nutritious delicacies: Acme baguette, Cowgirl Creamery Mt. Tam, Gioia Burrata and some sort of organic salami from Applegate.

My friend, Gabby made this gorgeous card for her mother's 49th birthday. It is pure genius to say the least. 
I eventually left the city. It was a very upsetting goodbye since I pine for it everyday and leaving is the equivalent of cutting off my own umbilical cord. I reluctantly went back to LA and consoled myself the only effective way that I knew how. CHICKEN WINGS. Chicken wings solve everything. What is the pythagorean theorem? I don't know it off the top of my head, but I'm sure the answer is CHICKEN WINGS. I just googled it and it relates to triangles, which is the shape of a drumstick in a once again, I am right and smart people are wrong about me.

Here is some spank bank material from California Wings Cafe in Hollywood. We wandered here after braving a pool party at Drai's on an exceptionally hot Saturday afternoon. I'm terrified of pool parties at hotels, so I was in a traumatic state.

My password for my work computer was "hotwings69" at one point. 
Once this picture stops being creepy, it starts to become compelling. Thus, art is born. I'm selling prints for $500.00. 
Okay, it's almost 11 o'clock and that means I need to sleep or else I will be completely useless and unattractive tomorrow and I can't be that two days in a row. 

Saturday, June 29, 2013

TOUR DE CARNE ASADA FRIES and other classy things I've been doing

I wish that I could say that I haven't posted anything in over a year because I've been away building houses for orphans in Botswana or busy with my new internship at a taqueria, but I cannot truthfully admit that. I just assumed nobody read blogs anymore and dedicated my life to watching every season of Breaking Bad, Sons of Anarchy and Game of Thrones instead. If you know anything about any of those three shows, you know that the plot lines are incredibly stressful, so it's been very taxing on my psyche and as a result, it has stunted my creativity and ability to form sentences that aren't threats.

Anyhow, I am back and proud/sad to announce that after two months of dieting--I am fat again. One debouched weekend in San Diego that my friend Jess and I dubbed as "TOUR DE CARNE ASADA FRIES" reversed two months of sloppily attempting to eat paleo and exercise in about two hours. I'm still not sure if I feel any remorse since I value carbs and cheese more than only having one chin. The only thing I value more than carbs and cheese are photos of carbs and cheese that I'd eaten and showing them off on the internet. 

First off, I do not recommend the night life in San Diego because you will get photo bombed by people that wear shirts like this. 

What a lovely array of courtesans.
Since the purpose of this visit was to eat as many carne asada fries as humanly possible, we hit up a shady Mexican restaurant drive thru at 3:30 am to acquire these puppies. They weren't the best since they were the only ones available at that hour and they kind of look like chorro, which I've learned is the Spanish term for diarrhea. 

Luckily, San Diego is a thousand times more charming in the day time. We went to Hash House A Go Go since Yelp was reporting long wait times and fancy fried chicken dishes, which can only mean this place is glorious. We ordered fried chicken waffle towers, fried chicken benedicts and pancakes that I mistook for delicious sleeping bags. 

Comically large Maple Banana Pancakes. They emasculated everyone in the room. 
We spent the rest of the day at the beach, drinking and riding bikes because that's legal and all. The sun eventually went down and we realized that we hadn't consumed nearly enough asada fries and too many Straw-Ber-Rita's, so we went on a ravenous hunt for asada fries.

Look back at it.

Lolita's Taco Shop was without question the best of the three and is definitely in my top two of all time. The Instagram filter in this photo doesn't quite capture the magic of the cheese and the other accoutrement, but that magical pile of calories was THE JUAN. 

Scallop taco heaux. 

Our last stop was El Zarape because we read that they had lobster burritos and scallop tacos. Unfortunately, they discontinued their lobster option because it was too ballin for them. The scallop tacos were off the hook and the fries were not too shabby since they used straight up nacho cheese. Or they could have all been bad because I was exceptionally wasted at this point. 

We spontaneously attended a drag show at the bar next door, got confused and then left San Diego. TOUR DE ASADA FRIES was a rousing success and I am glad to announce that I will be making it an annual event. Eating carne asada fries is officially my favorite sport next to eating hot dogs at baseball games. 

For some reason, I went to Disneyland the next day after getting two hours of sleep because I obviously hate myself and will do anything to hang out with my friend Jess when she is in town because I am desperate for Chinese companionship. The only thing Disneyland has going for it are the snacks. I'm pretty sure my uterus shriveled up and died after being around all those screaminass babies all day. I think the government should routinely send teenaged girls to Disneyland to discourage them from getting pregnant. I am now barren from the experience. The snacks, however, were the only thing that prevented me from crying the entire time. 

The Chili Cone Carne was well worth the billions of dollars that went into erecting the new Cars Land. It's a bread cone filled with chili, cheese and Fritos. Whoever dreamed up this symphony might as well have shat on Mozart's grave. 

The main reason I agreed to go to Disneyland was because my friend, Mimi promised to buy me a HOT LINK corndog. Nothing motivates me more than the promise of a good sausage. Well, Mimi came through on her promise because she is a down ass bitch and I would have killed her. It was hands down THE BEST CORN DOG I HAVE EVER EXPERIENCED IN MY LIFE. If you want your life to change for the better--eat this thing

I highly suggest the tsukemen at Tsujita LA Artisan Noodle Annex in West LA. I'm pretty critical when it comes to ramen since I think everything pales in comparison to Daikokuya, but this place is pretty special. I just really love fat, porky broths and fresh noodles.

Lastly, I am a very classy and grown lady. I got Hello Kitty champagne bottle service at an Alice in Wonderland themed bar called Rabbit Hole last night. A man who was clearly very jealous was heckling at us for drinking Hello Kitty champagne and then proceeded to fart next to our table and walk away. Luckily my boyfriend chased down the jealous fart bandit and confronted him about farting in the presence of such sophisticated ladies. Of course, he denied it but you know what they say--whoever denied it supplied it! 

I promise to write more especially since I am on the cusp of becoming an artisan sausage maker. I haven't made any yet, but I've been thinking about it...A LOT. 

Sunday, April 22, 2012


No, you are not dreaming. Indeed, your dreams have just come true--I am updating this blog.

Yes, it was selfish of me to stop posting up all the disgusting things that I weaken my immune system with. I accept all responsibility for any mental breakdowns that my absence has caused to most of the earth's population. It was not my intention to cause mass devastation, but my cat, Angus has been chewing on my laptop charger and it has compromised its charging abilities. Don't worry, I am devising a plan of punishment that will make both Angus and PETA fatally shit themselves.

Allow me to molest your senses with the latest and greatest in culinary delights. First and foremost, I want to announce that once again, I've fallen in love at 711. As you all know, I have not been the same since they discontinued the Cheesy Spinach Dip Taquito in the Fall of 2004. I guess 711 took my desperate cries into consideration when they decided to open up a 711 three blocks away from me and stock them with JAMAICAN BEEF PATTIES.

I asked the kind fellow who was managing the hot dog roller if the yellow things were empanadas, but to my shock he said they were Jamaican beef patties. I instantly slammed my fists on the counter and screamed at the top of my lungs, "I'LL TAKE TWELVE!!" I then made him throw them directly into my mouth with his tongs and then ran out without paying a dime. After all, 711 owes me somewhere around 6 figures in damages for the heartbreak they caused me when they discontinued my beloved Cheesy Spinach Dip Taquitos. Don't ever break a fat girls heart. 

This is not news, but it would be wrong to not acknowledge the birth of this decades fast food Messiah. I did not think that the genius stoners at Taco Bell could outdo the Beefy Crunch burrito, but it was dumb of me to underestimate the level of their genius. I tell you, these guys could do nothing but fart on an IQ test and still score higher than Stephen Hawking.

THE DORITOS LOCOS TACO! I have to admit that my friend and I drove up and down highway 5 searching for the test locations in California's methiest towns for these. Unfortunately, we never found them but the wait only made the experience more meaningful and passionate.

Spicy tuna, yellowtail, salmon, and scallop hand rolls from Hama Sushi in Little Tokyo. I don't give a shit if I've already written about this place because I cannot stress enough how delightful these hand rolls are. Jesus and Godzilla live underneath the sushi bar and roll these themselves using psychokinesis.

Watching illegal amounts of the Food Network and the Cooking Channel has lead me to develop a cooking addiction and personality disorder in which I've confused myself into believing I am a cross between Michael Symon and every contestant in the history of Chopped. So I've been (successfully) trying to grow a soul patch and have been banned from every Sur La Table location in Southern California for dry humping Le Creuset cookware sets.

I made meatballs and had an Italian versus Swedish throwdown against myself. Whole Foods ran out of ground veal because they are a bunch of amateurs, so I had to settle for ground beef and ground pork. Threw in some bacon and I was back in business. Sweden swept Italy by a landslide because of my genius use of Strauss heavy cream and lingonberries trumped my decision to use marinara in a jar. I love to hand myself victories.

Buying a roasting thermometer has definitely been the most adult purchase that I have made thus far. It resulted in me making this glorious rib roast. Making a beautiful roast for ones self is the most fulfilling feeling ego and stomach had never experienced such nirvana.


Do yourself a favor and go to Din Tai Fung in Arcadia or Santa Anita or wherever the fuck this place is. XIAO LONG BAO. ALL DAY. ERRYDAY. I ate this two days in a row this week because I mistakenly thought both days were my birthday. My birthday is in November.

I went to Coachella again last week and these are the only two acceptable photos for public viewing. If you were there, you may have recognized me as the inebriated Samoan of questionable gender in jorts, sprinting from tent to tent with fists full of glowsticks and churros. All great weekends start with sippy cups full of Ciroc Obamas.

I will leave you with this wonderful photo to ponder.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Holy Shit

Long time no see, eh?

I just got a new iPhone and downloaded an app where I can blog from. This leaves me without an excuse to avoid blogging.

I just wanted to test this shit real quick. I leave you with a skillfully filtered Instagram photo of a fine hoodrat delicacy called "Hot Cheetos a la Cream Cheese."

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Trader Joe's: I'd Be Dead If It Didn't Exist

I know this makes me sound like a loser, but I have been living off of frozen food from Trader Joe's for the past 3 weeks and I don't think I've ever been happier.

As a busy, young indentured servant, it has been difficult for me to find time to cook and eating out can get pricey. I've barely had time to feed myself and can't even manage to eat perishable food in a timely manner. Thus, I have resorted to stocking up on frozens from Trader Joe's and let me tell you, these are in a class of their own. These are the Rolls Royce's of frozen cuisine. Yes, I may be delusional because I am overworked and underfed, but I am convinced that I hit the jackpot every time I warm one of these suckers up.

They carry an exotic assortment of cuisines and I feel like I'm taking a trip around the Epcot Center every week. As a worldly young lady, I am an excellent judge of authenticity and I have been mildly impressed with everything. Mildly impressed is the highest grade of approval in the world of frozen foods, by the way.

For example, my favorite dish is the Paneer Tikka Masala.

*This image was stolen via Google image search*

This dish is simply outstanding...I like to call it The Maharaja Meal. Glorious pieces of cheese, swimming in a pool of Tikka Masala sauce, served alongside spinach Basmati rice. I have spent many lovely evenings, spoonfeeding myself this and watching Hulu.

*stolen image*

This is the Tom Yam Wonton Soup. I haven't tried this yet, but I am beyond excited to microwave the shit out of this. You know how I feel about anything with coconut milk in it..............

*Also stolen. I am too lazy to walk to my freezer and take a picture and upload it. Fuck that.*

These right here are THE BUSINESS. Seriously, I've been on this one for a minute now and life doesn't get better than these two right here. Nuke them for 3 minutes, drizzle it with Tapatio, and its like a $2 trip to Tijuana.

I was surprised by how fresh the Ricotta and Spinach Tortelloni seriously tasted homemade. Obviously someone else's home because fresh, healthy dishes don't come out of this home.

The Vegetable Pad Thai is the shit and get's a round of applause or a booty clap.

I think I first discovered these when I was in the 7th or 8th grade and we have been going steady ever since. If you have never had one these, you are doing everything wrong. Flakey, crispy phyllo dough filled with cheesy spinach crap is a gift from Zeus.

I could literally keep going ALL DAY LONG because practically every frozen dish at Trader Joe's is retardedass good. Trader Joe could get it.