Alchemist

This is a Thai pop. How they got the basil seeds to be perpetually suspened, you can shake it like a snowglobe or a poloroid, is beyond me. The ingrediants don't sound so good (Honey Flavor) so I am a wee bit scared to try it, for fear of being dissapointed.

Isn't it all subjective? I have gone to a movie after a fight with a friend and hated the movie and then later seen the same movie after a wonderful picnic, and had a completly different experiance. I think that the important reviews on egullet are the positive ones. I would prefer a recommendation to a warning. At the same time I have friends in the industry and I am without a doubt bias. Also when I go to thier establishments I will recieve a different level of service than the avrage Joe. It is Garlic and Saffires. So how can a person objectivly judge anything?

Cuppla words... what kind? Straight grits with pepper and Franks/Lousiana hot sauce? or Cheese grits with a slice of Kraft on top and F/L hot sauce? or Wicked cheese grits with lotsa butter/cream/cheese(real) and F/L hot sauce?

The point of the banality of this dish is last Tue. I was at Po and had the most wonderful rigatoni with gorgonzola and walnuts. So how, I ask, can I possibly like Mack and Sleaze, with pepper jack, cilantro, and Herdez (no other salsa will do). I love good food. Is this just stupid, esoteric comfort grub? Or am i just a knuckle dragging troglodyte that has evolved a wee bit? Can you have the dishes of your youth with the slightest urbane twist and it becomes Haute?

I have seen the green starfruit all over the world but have never seen starfruit of that color anywhere before. Great pic Daisy17.

I love the Firefly Bistro. It's in South Pasadena. The websight is www.eatatfirefly.com. Such a wonderful space. I might call ahead and see how they handle climate control in July.

This was bought at a bustling market in the exotic Union Square. It has two nicely c ontrasting textures, silky and crunchy. Cool veinlike things in shiney part. And sweet, cut not cloying. From New Zealand.

At a nice resturant in Peurta Vallarta, a bug was on the menu. I don't mean a cucaracha was scrambling across my Carta. Nobody could tell me if they were the omnipresent locust that decended as part of the apocalypse, or a cricket, like cousin of Jimmy The. I ordered them. And would chew threw a wall of Pinoccio to get to them again. They were served wiith a tangey tomotillio salsa with big chunks of rich creamey avacado. The grasshoppers were wonderfully chunchy, and nutty.

This is not just what hit the spot today. This takes place over a month in Mexico. This is a photo journelists journey into trying to find out what does, and what does NOT go with Havana Club. The HC was enjoyed on the beach, on the street, on a rooftop or two, in restaurants, in bars, in dives, and tres POSH places. HC was enjoyed with friends, family, strangers, lovers, bartenders, waitresses, and a bum or two. It was imbibed in moderation, and in excess. It was paired with food, and drank in spite of what was on the plate that evening. It was carried in extreme heat over dusty roads teeming with goats, chickens, and feral cats. It was delivered, by nubile waitresses on silver platters in air conditioned bliss. It held court at a business meeting. It sulked between an argument like a petulant child fearing the inevitable divorce. It was the reason for a dose of... buyers remorse. It was the inspiration, or at the least the reason I said "&%*$ it," lets go for a spin on a teak yacht. It was, well you get the idea. This may look like a Where's Waldo for the inebrated, and depraved. With fresh squeezed OJ. Breakfast of champions. Riedel strawware, as you can see. Horchata Freshly opened coconut. A little overripe, and I didn't have the tools (they confiscated my machete at La Guardia security) to open it, scrape out the meat, grate it and use it as a topping for a dessert. With Negra Modelo, lime and ice. One of the great quartets. Frozen daiquiri. The proper way to get rid of a Daiquiri Headache (also called a Dairy Queen, or ice cream headache) is to place your thumb on the roof of your mouth, it looks like you need your blankie, to rewarm said area. STILL LIFE WITH HC and Mr. Steingarten. There were some other combinations that didn't get recorded for prosperity. HC 7 and vanilla ice cream, mango sorbet, neat, straight from the bottle, drizzled over a wide variety of fruit, and somethings I probably forgot. P.S. I didn't have much tequila. edited for posting while drinking HC

My parents took me to India when I was thirteen. My mom had been there in the Peace Corps. The first meal we had in the town she used to live in, at the best resturant, almost turned me off food. All food, forever. The "dining room" was dim but there were bats divebombing us through out. The grandson of our hosts drank one Fanta and a Coke and threw up on the table. Then I got up to use the Loo, (Don't even ask), and I passed by the kitchen. It was a large fire around which a bunch of men hunkered, in loin cloths. They were sweat slicked, and yelling at eachother. Huge red shadows crawled menacingly on the walls, dancing to the din of crashing pots and pans, it was a vision of hell. The food it's self was unremarkable, or maybe I just blocked it out. For the rest of the time we ate at our hosts' house. I came to love Indian food. The firey curries extinguished with raieta. Everything eaten with your right hand. Kinda perfect for teenage boy table manners. If there had been a choice, I would have prefered a slice of pizza, insted of the best resturant in a one elephant town in Gujarat. (SP?)

I would also reccomend a cheeseburger at In-N-Out Burger, with "Animal style Fries". A burrito In the Mission, SF, El Toro was always a favorite. A scallop, black bean and avocado burrito at Senior Fish in LA. (Bring on the gout) A dinner at Firefly Bistro in South Pasadena (SP?) Chefs King/Rosenbluh were just featured at the Beard House, and whip up some of my favorite food in the world. eatatfirefly.com I'm not sure if it's rude to piggyback on someone elses thread, but I'm going to the French Laundry end of April, and would love some up to date info about other resturants. All price ranges. Mexican food a plus. I allready have the In-N-Out Urge, so will be visiting the Napa location. Thanks Edited for boneheaded mistake

The Madonna Inn in San Luis Opismo (SP) Is a MUST SEE. I would reccomend it for breakfeast. But dinner in the all pink dining room is an experiance that would send Alice running fot the looking glass. The web site is madonnainn.com. It's a great place to stay. I like the Daisy Mea.

Ok this may be going way overboard, but half of the eguletters have a whisper(at least) of OCD. If you reallly like the fig flavor. You could go get some dried figs, crush them and then boil them in said liquid, until it coates the back of a spoon, and then use it by the drops. It will also last for a long time in this concentrated form. I love me some figs, so having, fig syrup in the firige, sounds nice.

Not that I'm in Mexico, not that I like Cuban rum, not that I would ever break the law or commit treason, but . . . .

Have recently enjoyed horchata on the streets of PV. Got a recipe for original horchata and any variations?

Just had dinner at El Repollo Rojo (Red Cabbage Cafe) and it was sublime. Started with Chiles en Nogada, a cold dish composed of poblanos stuffed with picadillo (ground beef, potatoes, spices), nuts, raisins and pomegranate, topped with a luscious walnut cream sauce. I was ambivalent to say the least about ordering it but once I tasted it I was sold. Entrees: fish with zucchini flower sauce (served with rice and perfectly cooked fresh vegetables which are nearly impossible to find in Mexico) and Pierna Machada (pork leg, slowly cooked) with ancho chile sauce and GOOD mashed potatoes. Both were fantastic. Homemade flan to finish. One of the best meals I've had in the last month in Mexico (not including fish tacos).

Maybe I missed these already mentioned but: Pigs cooked whole on a spit or in the ground all night while drinking moonshine. Bugs (I just had some Cricket tacos and relished the squirming of my dining companion) Fried pork roll sandwhiches Brisket Tacos Al Pastor (with spicey rat tail salsa running down your arm and dripping off your elbow) Runny OE eggs with Boars Head bacon and hash browns BLOWFISH (cause it can kill you) Uni Bone marrow with oxtail marnalade Eye, brain and toung tacos (Makes you muy macho)With hablinaro salsa. All of these thing must be paired with copious amounts of what ever liquor should go with them.

Staying with the pink theme, Sugarplum Tequila (sure to produce frantic feelings of amore) fresh grapefruit juice lime juice pomagranet molassas (or good Grenidine)

I am right now in Mexico and so being the good egulleter that I am I did a little research. Boy do yáll owe me for the hours of painstaking experiments i have just conducted. Think Charles H. Baker and Jeffrey Steingarten out on a bender. (By the way I am drinking one right now.) A Michalada is (and this could be a regional thing)... A glass either a highball or the goblet that I now refer to as a Stripper Antionette, rimmed with salt, add a bit of lime juice, and either Pacifico, or Corona. Thats it. I´ve been told that the following is called a Chilada. This is where it gets a bit convoluted. A Chilada has: Beer Chilis Maggi - Both Ingles and Sazonador Lime Splash of tomato juice My favorite version that I´ve consumed so far was a Cielo Rojo: Beer Chili powder on rim Maggi (both) Lime Splash of Clamato Black pepper Chili salsa Was in a second floor bar in Puerto Vallarta. The diesel fumes and musica ranchera drifted up from the square below. It was 110 degrees in the sun and I bellied up to the stick, said I wanted a Michelada. My bartender appraised my overheated state and said I needed a Cielo Rojo. I asked in slaughtered Spanish what a Red Sky was. He leaned back on his heels, smiled broadly, and told me he would make his version. He procured a monkey dish of cacahuates con chiles, and with a piece of lime lifted the cornucopia of spices and rimmed my Stripper Antoinette. He combined all of the other ingredients over ice and topped it with a Pacifico bien muerta and set it before me. That was two days ago. I found a new way to make a Michelada. Stand on the prow of a teak yacht with a cold Coronita in one hand and a piece of lime in the other. Let the ocean spray salt your lips and then drink. Chingon.

86 actually comes from Chumleys on Bedford and Barrow in the west village, NYC. In the days of proabition when the coppers busted in the front door the bartender would yell "86" which was the address of the back door. So it came to mean outta here. One still 86's a bad customer so they cn never come back.

I have had a few michilada bien muerta down here in mexico and I have found that a mixture of salt and dried ground chilis on the rim is rico. Also just to be contrary I have been drinking them with Negra Modello instead of the Corona/Sol/Pacifico that it usually comes with.

I have had some very unchingon Pina Coladas in my day. Drinks only fit for little girls in pig tails. I will report in in I find any other potable delights. P.S. That wicked Pina was @ the Mano grill in La Cruz, which is just north of Puerta Vallarta.

I am not usually a fan of the cloyingly sweet drinks. But I am in La Cruz (which is just north of Peurta Vallerta) and I just had a Pina Colda that shook the foundations of my soul. It went a little like this... Uno,dos, tres, 3.0 Oz Havana Club (need I say more?) 1.0 Oz. Coco Lopez 1.0 Oz pinapple juice 1.0 oZ evaporated milk One full lime squeezed into the blender, seeds, essence and all 5 ice cubes. Blend, and serve in a Marie Antoinette. Hijo de me pinche primre error!!!! Pinche CHINGON!

i am right now in Zihuatinehjo. I just had "fresh daquri" with H.C 7 and then some stuff that wold make most bartendres hack and spew. i fear for my life, and I don't give a rats ass at the same time. MMMMMMMMMM

I thought that A.H. was out of business, so every time i went to this one bar that has it I imbibed. (even if it was with my blood pudding at ten A.M.), but every time I thought they did't have more, another bottle miraciously appeared. I felt like I was beholding the oil burning for eight days. I guess I'll have to keep trying to rid them of their pesky A.H. problem.