I'm back in Charlottesville as of 11:30 pm yesterday and am using my settling in time for rumination and organization. On the organization side of things, I spent four hours in front of my computer and Food Network today sending emails and setting up appointments. (Turns out that 10am Wednesday is not only the time at which I will be meeting with Joy but is also when Sandra Lee will be enjoying a "yummy" cocktail--you go girl.) Concerning rumination; I'm missing San Diego, it's weather, it's food, my home-town friends and my fambly. Before leaving the idyllic bay town, the mamas Cory and Coleman took us kiddies out to lunch for our last health-obsessed SoCal meal of winter at the newly opened Cilantro Live! in Hillcrest. Cilantro Live! is raw, vegan and adept at dishing out surprisingly edible fare. My mom's "nacho nut cheese Enchilada" and Mrs. Cory's "rawviolis" made of slow roasted tomatoes filled with "pine-nut, basil, cheese and pesto sauce" were wonderful (Though I do wonder what they mean by "cheese" here.) Other items (the name-sake soup, for instance) relied to heavily on Flax seed oil which I happen to think tastes like toilet water. I was appeased when the server brought me my Coconut Water because, for every degree to which flax-seed oil is vile, coconut water is delicious--a delectably confusing combination of warm nuttiness and cucumber coolness. In the end, Cilantro Live turned out to be just what the doctor ordered as all those intact and uncooked vitamins and enzymes made my hung-over self feel a lot better about life and the gigantic carne asada quesadilla I had consumed at 3AM that very day...The next day I dragged my parents downtown to see American Gangster and eat at Cafè Chloe where I completely nullified any of the health benefits reaped at Cilantro Live! and took a head-first dive into cholesterol and saturated fat (which feels and tastes a lot like animal infested custard.) I started off with the bistro salad which was a delightful combination of Frisee tossed in a vinaigrette made from bacon grease and topped with bacon, butter drenched croûtons and a poached egg for good measure. I continued in this this ovular vein with my second course: a savory lobster custard with buttered toast. All the while I made sure to help my dad finish off his steak frites (oh the frites...) served with a side of cauliflower gratin and assisted my mother in eating her lightly battered fluke served with a celery root puree and a mustardy, red winey, vinegar sauce (the fancy french name of which I cannot impress you with as it escapes me. Started with a "b" I believe.)
San Diego has so much to offer foodies and I am sad to leave it having left so much untouched: Nobu San Diego in the Hard Rock Hotel; Bradley Ogden's new jazz and supper club, Anthology; the Pho houses in Kearney Mesa; the Linkery's new sister site, The Ritual Tavern... But any regrets concerning unconquered San Diego dining experiences were easily and appropriately dismissed in transit from SoCal to THE South when I read Edna Lewis's posthumously published piece, "What Is Southern" in the most recent Gourmet. Her foodie answer to that question effectively knocked the regret out from under me and got my mouth to watering over the biscuits, hush puppies, fried chicken, corn bread, virginia ham, shrimp and grits, sweet potato pies... I would be loving myself with in the coming months. :)
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