excellent Easter

Easter Sunday

Nicole and I went to Easter Mass and then got a delicious brunch with some friends. Afterwards, she, Amelia, and I went to Whole Foods. I ended up not buying veal for a few reasons:

• Nicole’s humanitarian objections to it
• it's $25/pound price tag
  
• and mainly because there wasn't enough for my stew.

“Don’t eat no meat??? Oh, that’s okay. I make lamb.”

Ten points if you know what movie that’s from.

Anyway, when Miss Vegetarian and I made it to the cashier, we were playing Price Is Right. (For the record, I would have won if he had bothered to look up the price for cippolini onions instead of just ringing them up as scallions.) Anyway, when the price went over Nicole’s guess, she said “SHIT!” really loud. The poor cashier looked terrified until we explained it wasn't the result anything he did.

Our Easter Potluck Dinner was extremely delicious.

• egg salad tea sandwiches
• salad
• my lamb stew
• corn pudding
• pasta salad
• roasted potatoes
• sweet potato fritters
• miniature brownies
• funfetti cupcakes
• strawberries dipped in chocolate

We watched the end of an America’s Next Top Model marathon. Storey and I had a great experience trying to decipher the ins and outs of female debate, both on and off screen. That segued right into the end of The Sound of Music and an episode of The Girls Next Door. I would never have guessed I’d be in a room with four girls who had such positive review of Hef’s girlfriends and their show.

Speaking of reality, Bravo needs to learn that not every occupation needs its own competitive show. They’re apparently releasing a new haircutting series, which I’ve dubbed Project Top Hair Design.

Anyway, we ended the festivities by dying eggs since the two Jewish girls had never had the fun if messy experience. One of the Christians misspelled “Easter” on her egg by leaving out the T.

Easter Monday

Adrian called me up and we went to the UC for lunch. Black Angus on Rosemary Parmesan Bread sub from Quiznos and “Mexican Pizza” and soft tacos supreme from Taco Bell. I finally figured out of the "Royal Hospital, Panama City Beach" charge that showed up on his VISA. My mom was very worried even though I assured her a $60something hospital charge couldn't have been anything that serious. Apparently Hospital is short for "Hospitality," as in charge-it-to-my-room, as in charge-the-drinks-I'm-buying-at-the-hotel-bar-to-my-room. Zoinks. S'okay, Scooby gang, mystery solved!

I spent happy hour drinking with Conrad at Bruno’s before going to the (actual) Whitney Bank on Carrolton.

I tried to go to Ninja to sit at the sushi bar and grab a quick dinner, but I forgot it was Monday. (Ninja is closed on Mondays.) So I went to Philip Chan’s Asian Cajun Bistro, which was on the walk back. I’d had my doubts and never been, but I figured I’d give it a try. I’m glad I did. Asian Cajun is “marriage of... friendliness and generosity of Asian culture... warmth and sincerity of genuine Southern hospitality.” Now that sounds like bullshit, but they made me a believer. And I hate the term “fusion,” but this place actually is. Basically the restaurant is local ingredients cooked in an expert Chinese way. I guess now I can no longer say there’s no good Chinese food in this city. Chef Chan, who I got to meet briefly, is from Hong Kong, which I consider to be not only the origin of my favorite style of Chinese food but also the Mecca of non-sushi Asian food.

I was apparently not thinking because I forgot that such an authentic restaurant would serve dishes “family style” (as opposed to fake less authentic places like P.F. Chang’s) i.e. massive portions. So I ordered an appetizer, an entrée, and some rice.

While I was waiting, they served me a salad with a dressing that tasted like a sweet faux-kimchi. Awesome. The massive appetizer was your requisite cornmeal fried Louisiana oysters, but then they were wok-sautéed with a sweet peppery sauce with sliced onions (both red and green) and garlic, served with a creamy dipping sauce. The combination of tastes and textures was almost overwhelmingly good. The “num tong” chicken was tender cuts in a Szechwan sauce served over crispy rice noodles and sliced eggplant. The fried rice was also amazing: Shrimp, crawfish, and smoked sausage tossed with eggs and scallions in rice with a gentle touch of curry flavor. The waitress set down the plate and said “Let me know when you need a box.”

I don’t usually admit defeat, but I had to surrender. On a more positive note, my fortune cookie told me “You wield more influence than you know.”

Jenna and Shannon both called me. The former stopped being a mountain-whore (ah, my affection for my friends who graduate early and I miss dearly) to come down and visit, and the latter spent the night in Houston for a free airline voucher. Jenn was tired from the drive, and Shan was MIA. So everyone apparently went to bed, which was good because I was exhausted too. We’re going out tonight.