Location: University and High Street (Palo Alto)
OK the time has come to write about the best restaurant in the universe. I choose to write in haiku-like form. No I will not count syllables:
Waiters give me a discount
I know you know I come here everyday
Tools misuse you as a nightclub
Jay's Roll, number 12
Connie still can't decide what to eat
Extra ginger
Elderly Chinese/Japanese waiter
Why do we always get you, when we want the waiter who will offer us Sake bombs?
Teriyake sauce on the side
Nom Nom Nom
Even though your prices have gone up
One day I will eat for free
Perfect place for munchies
Should we get dessert at that Thai place?
Please decide on a ginger color
Inappropriately breaking chopsticks
I must trick someone into taking my own and getting new ones
Convenient parking location
I still don't understand the greeting
I receive every time I patron your dining establishment
Nihao.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Spice: Hella Well-Lit
Location: University Place and 10th St.
I first wound up at Spice in May of 2003, when I was visiting my brother for his graduation. The restaurant was qualified as "Asian fusion" which made me feel very hip and sophisticated eating there. Obviously, anytime I describe it to anyone, I describe it with that word, although I have now realized that it's as exalted as I had once thought.
Anyway, this place was beyond hip. The interior had a curtain of plastic circles, and the chairs are kind of space-age (?) and everything is white, but not intimidatingly so, as in I feel no compulsion so suddenly speak in an English accent when I am there, or pretend I know everything about the independent music scene and the hopelessly ironic musicians that comprise it. (Both are completely impossible for me: my English accent has been described as just a string of monotonous words strung together--perhaps an attempt at communicating the dry British sense of humor. My knowledge of the indie music scene is only superseded by my ability to do a British accent)
I spent a majority of the first semester of freshman year attempting to persuade my roommates to eat there with me. Somehow, the walk to Spice (less than a block) was insurmountable. Finally, one glorious day, we went. Of course, I had the host jitters: the nervousness you feel when you are responsible for someone's enjoyment of the meal because you've already hyped it up so much that if they don't like it then you are some somehow to blame. Fortunately, it worked out. To the point where we decided to grant it our patronage when we were selecting the place where we would spend our money jar money at the end of the year. (they are eternally grateful)
But really, the reason we chose to eat there was because of their lunch special. Their lunch special is really great, and somehow, even when it is completely packed, I have never had to wait for a table. The service is really quick. Beware of the black noodle--it is lethally spicy. But the Drunk Man noodle is really good. So is the Pad Thai. And the lunch special includes an appetizer for 7.50. No right to complain, right? All the cool NYU students are eating there...
I first wound up at Spice in May of 2003, when I was visiting my brother for his graduation. The restaurant was qualified as "Asian fusion" which made me feel very hip and sophisticated eating there. Obviously, anytime I describe it to anyone, I describe it with that word, although I have now realized that it's as exalted as I had once thought.
Anyway, this place was beyond hip. The interior had a curtain of plastic circles, and the chairs are kind of space-age (?) and everything is white, but not intimidatingly so, as in I feel no compulsion so suddenly speak in an English accent when I am there, or pretend I know everything about the independent music scene and the hopelessly ironic musicians that comprise it. (Both are completely impossible for me: my English accent has been described as just a string of monotonous words strung together--perhaps an attempt at communicating the dry British sense of humor. My knowledge of the indie music scene is only superseded by my ability to do a British accent)
I spent a majority of the first semester of freshman year attempting to persuade my roommates to eat there with me. Somehow, the walk to Spice (less than a block) was insurmountable. Finally, one glorious day, we went. Of course, I had the host jitters: the nervousness you feel when you are responsible for someone's enjoyment of the meal because you've already hyped it up so much that if they don't like it then you are some somehow to blame. Fortunately, it worked out. To the point where we decided to grant it our patronage when we were selecting the place where we would spend our money jar money at the end of the year. (they are eternally grateful)
But really, the reason we chose to eat there was because of their lunch special. Their lunch special is really great, and somehow, even when it is completely packed, I have never had to wait for a table. The service is really quick. Beware of the black noodle--it is lethally spicy. But the Drunk Man noodle is really good. So is the Pad Thai. And the lunch special includes an appetizer for 7.50. No right to complain, right? All the cool NYU students are eating there...
Thursday, November 20, 2008
La Laterna: Romantic as Fuck
Location: Washington Square South and MacDougal.
As the title indicates, this restaurant is extremely romantic. Sadly, I have never dined there in romantic circumstances. Twice I went there with friends, once with my roommate and her dad, and most memorably, once with Connie. That time was probably the only one that qualified as semi-romantic. Connie and I had spent the day engaging in various date activities: I took her shopping, we watched the sunset, discussed our long term plans, and then went out for a dinner.
As is appropriate for such a locale, the lighting is sparse. And by sparse, I mean, practically nonexistent. Consequently, the decor is difficult to comment on. Probably nice, if you have night-vision. Prerequisite for romantic mood. Another nice addition to said mood is the garden in the back of the restaurant. Sadly, although they promised Connie and me a table there, they didn't deliver. Still, Connie and I feasted. We had a a proscioutto plate and four cheese lasagna, and probably something involving cheese, since we're fiends for cheese. Then we split the bill since we figured this meal would be a splurge. Honestly, we figured that for all of the weekened's activities. Some not worth it at all (future post will detail the disaster that is a certain sushi restaurant in Brooklyn) But at least this was a splurge that was well-worth the justification.
As the title indicates, this restaurant is extremely romantic. Sadly, I have never dined there in romantic circumstances. Twice I went there with friends, once with my roommate and her dad, and most memorably, once with Connie. That time was probably the only one that qualified as semi-romantic. Connie and I had spent the day engaging in various date activities: I took her shopping, we watched the sunset, discussed our long term plans, and then went out for a dinner.
As is appropriate for such a locale, the lighting is sparse. And by sparse, I mean, practically nonexistent. Consequently, the decor is difficult to comment on. Probably nice, if you have night-vision. Prerequisite for romantic mood. Another nice addition to said mood is the garden in the back of the restaurant. Sadly, although they promised Connie and me a table there, they didn't deliver. Still, Connie and I feasted. We had a a proscioutto plate and four cheese lasagna, and probably something involving cheese, since we're fiends for cheese. Then we split the bill since we figured this meal would be a splurge. Honestly, we figured that for all of the weekened's activities. Some not worth it at all (future post will detail the disaster that is a certain sushi restaurant in Brooklyn) But at least this was a splurge that was well-worth the justification.
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