Houston Part II: The Quickie Artsy Tour

On Sunday morning before we left on our flight home, our wonderful friend, Rich (the one who took us to Goode Co. BBQ), gave us a quick tour of some of Houston's must-see sights.  We started by heading to the bayou for a view of the skyline and the sculptures in the surrounding park.

{"bayou" should always be said with a southern accent}

{emo statues lining the park and running trail}

And then we headed to the museum district to see the beautiful collection and chapels endowed by the De Menil family.  The area was so green and the streets were lined with the most charming bungalows.  If I ever live in Houston, it will be right here!  

As we were walking, I noticed this constant buzzing sound that reminded me of the noise the electric trolley lines make in San Francisco.  I kept looking for a trolley car, but it turns out it was just the buzzing of cicadas...can't take the California out of the girl...

{the Menil Collection}

The Menil Collection is one of the best examples of a private endowment truly being used for the benefit of a community.  The museum is completely free to the public, and is surrounded by a grassy park and giant outdoor sculptures.  Even the architecture of the building considers and complements the neighboring bungalows.  Who wouldn't want this place in their neighborhood?

{ (unfortunately, no photography was allowed inside the museum, or either of the chapels, so I can only show you what I could get from the outside}

The history of the de Menil family is also pretty interesting.  John de Menil was a banker in France who married Dominique Schlumberger, the heiress of the Schlumberger Ltd. oil services corporation fortune.  The couple moved to Houston from France during WWII, and started collecting cubist and surrealist art.  They eventually expanded their collection to include a large selection of native artwork from Africa, the Pacific Islands, and the Native American tribes of the Pacific Northwest.  It's really an eclectic and unique collection, spanning the entire spectrum from oils of the Old Masters to a huge painted "dance curtain" from a native tribe in West Vancouver Island.  I wish I could invite the de Menil's over for dinner and pick their brains about the why they collected what they did.

The second stop on our quickie art tour was the Rothko Chapel, also free of charge, and meant to be a non-denominational place of meditation for the community.  There's a bench in the entryway with a multitude of religious texts from every religion you could think of for visitors to borrow.  The inside is striking, though expected if you know Rothko's style.  Large canvasses hang on tall cement walls displaying Rothko's signature color blocks, and light streams in from a partial sky-light built into the ceiling.  There are simple, low benches to sit on, and prayer pillows to use.  It's somber but welcoming; it's what I never knew I imagined a meditation room to be.

{outside the Rothko Chapel}

And finally, my favorite sight in Houston, and my favorite chapel of all time: the Byzantine Fresco Chapel.  The chapel was built in the 1990s to house frescoes rescued from thieves who had stolen them from a small votive chapel in Cyprus.  The de Menils made a deal with the Church of Cyprus where they agreed to pay the thieves their ransom price to acquire the frescoes and place them here in Houston, but official ownership of the frescoes would remain with the Church.  The chapel was designed and built by Francois de Menil, the son of Dominique and John.  (I wished so badly that I could photograph the inside of this place, and the photos on the de Menil website don't do it justice, but they will have to suffice.)

The outside of the chapel is a streamlined cement building with stone and wood touches -- my kind of chapel.

The inside of the chapel is even more surprising, and in the best possible way.  It is all contained in one room with a black suspended ceiling, four walls of concrete, and natural light streaming in from all sides.  The usual heavy stone arches you see in traditional churches are replaced with arches of opaque glass suspended from black metal rods, but the original proportions and relationships are maintained.  

{via the Menil Collection official website}

As you look up into the simple, modern dome, you see the 13th-century fresco of Christ Pantokrator, and at the front of the glass altar is another fresco of the Virgin Mary with the archangels, Gabriel and Michael.  It is the ultimate juxtaposition of old and new, traditional and modern, East and West.  Absolutely exquisite.

{via the Menil Collection official website}

Houston, it was a pleasure.

{picture composition and execution compliments of the fabulous Rich}

Houston Part I: BBQ n' Beer

{have you ever noticed the cloud shadows from a plane?}

We just got back last night from a wedding weekend in Houston, and I'm still basking in the glow of long chats with old friends, and late night dance parties that go by way too fast.  I've got lots to share, but what better place to start than with the food?  So today, I bring you my adventures in Texas BBQ and Texas beer!

The first thing we did when we got off the plane in Houston was head to Goode Co. BBQ with our wonderful friend and Houstonian, Rich, for a real Texas lunch.

When we got out of the car, Rich pointed out that the restaurant is right in the same shopping center as a pet store, a gun shop, and a taxidermist...(me to Brian: "Toto, we're not in California anymore...").  So basically, this little strip mall has got you covered for all of your animal needs.  Buy 'em, hunt 'em, stuff 'em, or eat 'em.

The good(e) people at Goode Co. also give you cold frosted mugs for your beer.  It is such a small gesture, but it means so much to men.  (It really is the little things with them, isn't it?)

We all got brisket sandwiches and they were good(e) (OK, fine, I'll stop).  But really, it was delicious.  It was a lot smokier than the tangy Carolina BBQ I'm used to, and the meat was cooked just perfectly.  Hearty and smokey and so savory.  

{love the cow hide table tops}

Afterward, Brian and I debated whether the decor should be deemed "novelty" or not.  Maybe this is just how they do down in Texas.

{right above our table}

{old school saddles}

It was a perfect welcome to Texas meal!  Thank you Rich!

And now for the beer portion of our programming!

My second lunch in Houston consisted of beer and pretzels.  (I told you German is the new vegan.)  Another Houstonian friend of mine, Anna, invited me to go along with her to Saint Arnold's Brewery, and of course, I obliged.

Saint Arnold's is Texas' oldest craft brewery.  Before we ditched our tour (when the guide ventured into a non-climate controlled area of the brewery - crazy crazy idea in August), I learned all about what it means to be a craft brewery.  I mostly forgot it all after the second beer, but I think I remember the tour guide saying that a craft brewery makes more than 15,000 cases of beer per year (less than that would qualify it as a microbrewery), and doesn't use rice as a filler (like they do in making Bud Light).  So craft beer is pure barley goodness that is a little less hipster than a microbrew.

And this Saint Arnold fellow - who the heck is he anyway, right?  Well, he is a guy you wish you had known.  He was a bishop who performed a beer miracle.  No joke.  He apparently used to go around spreading the beer word, urging people to "drink beer!  It's good for you!" and according to legend, when parishioners went to collect his remains after his death and all they had to sustain themselves on the long journey was a tiny drop of beer in a big mug, he used his powers for good and made that beer multiply so that the mug held enough for all of them!  A never-ending beer mug!  Like Hannukah but with beer instead of fire!  I haven't heard of a better use of miraculous powers since Jesus turned water into wine.  Fabulous.

{every step brought us closer to air conditioning}

{we got to keep the glasses!}

{best stamp ever}

What a fun day.  I'm so thankful to have such wonderful Houstonian friends, and to have seen more of Houston than just the inside of a hotel room.

I still have two more days of Texas fun to share with y'all, so stay tuned!!!

Friday Randoms (again)

Yep, my life is still filled with random chaos.  So here I go again with the slew of randomness that I've been holding in all week -

*Is anyone else deeply disturbed by the fact that there is now a Maternity section in Forever21?  I'm still at the age where I capitalize the M in Maternity.  And I'm the oldest person in Forever21.  Therefore, this is NOT ok.

*German is so hot right now.  Have you noticed?  The food, I mean.  Trendy sausages are taking over.  i.e. Bruhaus in Brentwood.  (Try the tequila habanero chicken sausage!)

*Did anyone else watch Ellen yesterday and notice that country singer Jarrod Niemann's has a tambourine player in his band?  Wouldn't that be the best job ever?  New life goal.

*I have a problem with museum audio tours.  First of all, I resent the fact that when I walk through a museum, all I can hear is the tssssk-tssssk-tsssssk escaping from those lousy headphones they hand out.  Beyond that, it's really creepy as a non-audio tourer to be surrounded by headphone-wearing zombies.  They just sort of wander, and then stand for entirely too long in front of every. single. painting.  The worst is when they laugh out loud to themselves, headphone syndrome blocking out any awareness of personal voice volume.  And there's just something so unsettling to me about the idea of following instructions in a museum.  Isn't half the point of a museum visit to find your own way of understanding the exhibit?

*On the topic of art, a favorite quote from Pablo Picasso (as seen decaled on the wall at the De Young Picasso exhibit): "Art is a lie that makes us realize truth."  Can someone on etsy make this into a print for me?  That'd be great, thanks.

What are your plans for this weekend, friends?  I'm heading to Houston on a painfully early flight this morning for a friend's wedding!

See you back here Monday with some Southern stories to share!

Clarity, Where I Least Expected It

On Friday I went into the city.  Into the concrete jungle of LA, the real city.  Three freeways, miles of red taillights, and the shock-to-the-system I so badly needed.

Generally, I avoid driving in LA at all costs.  The stress of getting lost, of being honked at, of constantly feeling like death is the only possible outcome, is just too much for me.  Luckily, Santa Monica is very walkable.  But living in Santa Monica is also a little surreal.  It’s too clean; it’s too cute; it’s too convenient.  It’s a city where roses peek through white picket fences (literally), parking is abundant and free, the pastel-colored beach cruiser is the vehicle of choice, and the sun-drenched beach is a constant silver lining.  It’s Pleasantville.  It’s so easy to get lost in its slow hum, so easy to fall into a life where time is foggy and you can never remember what you meant to do but you can’t imagine what would be so important that you would have to actually drive somewhere, or god-forbid, leave the city limits.  Suddenly it’s August and you can’t remember what happened to July.

During the months leading up to the Bar exam, I rarely left my little Santa Monica bubble because frankly, I didn’t have the time.  In the week after the exam, I let the slow hum of Pleasantville take over.  I needed it.  I needed to live in a foggy, blurry, slow bubble.  But enough is enough, and by Thursday I was itching for some new scenery.  So on Friday, I got in my car and drove for the first time in weeks.  I drove to Silverlake, where my friend Leslie was moving into her new apartment.  I listened to Ryan’s Roses on KIIS and remembered how crude Hollywood can be.  I blasted Katy Perry’s “Alien” three times in the space of 20 minutes and finally reached my saturation limit for mindlessness.  I merged onto three freeway interchanges, narrowly escaping death each time, and felt my blood pressure rising from the stress of the commute.  I whizzed past mirrored skyscrapers and got excited about having a job, a purpose, a place to be.  

In that car, on that drive, I felt something come alive in me again.  I felt my heart beat a little harder, my blood run a little quicker, and my mind think a little sharper.  I felt the rush of people going places, and things getting done.  I felt the spark of the city, and it woke me up.

So I’m awake, I’m alive, and I’m ready.  Anywhere you want to go, I’ll be there.

Broome Street General Store

Thanks to this charming Silverlake establishment, you will never again have to make two stops to pick up your fried chicken and your Keds.

The Broome Street General Store is a one-stop hipster shop.  As I'm sure has become quite clear to you, I am way too square to run with the hipster crowd.  But as a (self-proclaimed) semi-professional eater, I know enough to know that where hipsters go, there is usually good food.  So of course, when I heard that the Silverlake kind have been flocking to this shoppe (I just like it better with two p's and an e), I followed.

And I was not disappointed.  There was GOOD food.  Fried chicken, to be exact.  Yes, every Friday, the Broome Street General Store sells a fried chicken lunchbox deal that comes with two giant portions of the best ever fried chicken, a tomato-peach-burrata salad, and a dense dark-chocolate brownie, all made by Cube.  The chicken was crispy, not too greasy, and had a spicy kick; the salad was fresh and light (well, it tasted light, despite the massive amount of burrata), and made me feel less like a teenage boy while eating my fried chicken.

{would you like some deep-V tees with your imported fig preserves?}

The brownie was good (it's hard to screw up a brownie, really), but the gourmet homemade Oreo made by Cake Monkey Bakery in LA stole the show for me.  The cream had an almond flair to it, and it is now on my list of most favorite desserts (the one in my head).

{when I grow up, all I want is to own spices like this, and have room to store them}

Also, you should know that the couple who runs this store is perhaps the cutest foodie couple I have ever met.  The wife gave us samples of chocolate-covered almonds because she said they were just so outrageously good that we had to try them, and she had the cutest short haircut, kind of like Lisa's here.  And her husband (aka my favorite fried chicken man) gave me a few restaurant recommendations to try out, including Blair's across the street (which my friend, Leslie, already tried and said was amazing)!

{hungrily awaiting my chicken}

If you're in the Silverlake area and you haven't been here for the Friday chicken, get yourself there!  And maybe pick up an antique tea set while you're at it (they have those, too).

Santa Barbara Saturday

Brian and I spent Saturday visiting his grandparents in Santa Barbara.  As always happens on these visits, we ate well, we drank well, and we slept well (for 11 hours!).  Our trips there are always so restorative.

{a strata for lunch, homemade by moi!}

A little enclave of paradise.

Friday Randoms

I hear it's Friday today.  My mind has been a bit all over the place lately, like I'm continuously trying to re-orient myself to post-bar life (that could also be my brain, actually trying to orient itself, considering that I have the worst sense of direction of any living person).  And so, since this blog is basically an extension of my consciousness, today will also be a bit disorganized, a bit random, and mostly a smattering of unrelated life updates.  Let's just call it honest writing or something smart-sounding like that.  Yesterday is a good place to start.

*Yesterday, I walked to TJMaxx, spent all the money I could bear to spend, and then walked back home on the beach with my feet in the Pacific.  It was a perfect 77-degree sunny so-cal day, and the old hippie man played Tiny Dancer on his guitar while I sat and put my sandals back on.  Maybe it was just the retail therapy high, but it was a totally surreal moment of calm happiness.  One of those moments where you just feel satisfied with everything.  If I hadn't been alone and carrying a giant TJMaxx bag, I would have danced.

*Yesterday was also the day I made The Best Leftovers Ever.  I heated the remainders of the restaurant style smashed potatoes I made from Pioneer Woman's recipe in a skillet, then added some sliced and browned chicken sausage, heaped the mix on a plate, and topped with two fried eggs and some grated cheddar (because why not?).  It was in.sane.  There are no pictures because it was devoured within seconds of plating.

*My local Whole Foods was featured in one of the funniest YouTube videos I have ever seen.  (And that actually means something because I find most of those viral YouTube vids to be entirely forgettable.)  Seriously, watch it.

*Today, I'm helping my friend Leslie move into her new LA apartment, and we're going to eat THIS delicious fried chicken (accompanied with some burrata salad) from Broome St. General Store in Silverlake for lunch.  I only wish I had purchased some hipster Tom's to wear for the occasion.

Happy Friday friends!  See you next week!

A Feast Fit for a Cowboy

You know how they say you should never eat something bigger than your head?

Well, they're wrong.  If it tastes like this did, then you should eat as much of it as you possibly can.  And then eat the left overs the next morning for breakfast (yep).

{rib-eye and restaurant-style smashed potatoes via the Pioneer Woman}

Lest you think we are gluttons, I should explain that we don't usually eat like this.  (And by "like this," I'm referring to the 4 sticks of butter, 1 pint of sour cream, 5 strips of extra thick bacon, 1 pound of cream cheese, and the handful of unnecessary grated cheddar that made this meal a feast fit for a cowboy.)  

But yesterday was a special occasion -- Brian's birthday!  When I asked him what he wanted for dinner, he first insisted on a "roast" of some kind.  As a girly cook, I have no idea what that means, so luckily, I convinced him that a "roast" would be too hearty for a summer dinner, and that maybe he should consider something more seasonally appropriate (Me: "a roast? ...umm...isn't that something people in the movies eat at holidays? ...).  So steak and potatoes it was.  And where else to turn when faced with making a man-meal but to the Pioneer Woman?

I am not a devout Pioneer Woman (aka Ree Drummond) fan like many of you probably are, and this was the first time I have used her recipes.  But now?  Now, I'm a true believer.  She really does know the secrets to man food; I mean, fried onions in potatoes?  And Lawry's seasoned salt on your steak?  As a snobbish eater, I was skeptical to say the least.  But I did it, for Brian's sake.  And it was so wrong, and so right.  Fatty, salty, heavy, cheesy.  So easy, and so guiltily good.  I salute you, Ree, and your cowboy recipes.

{strawberry shortcake cake}

And this cake.  I cannot even talk about this cake.  There are about 8 pieces left over in my fridge, so I suggest you come over and have some ASAP.

Fresh strawberry filling (you mash them with sugar and let them get all juicy) and cream cheese frosting.  It's even better than what you're picturing in your head.  Please make this recipe immediately.  And bring your extra frosting over here.

This meal was so big that it prompted Brian to ask if he could just roll off his chair and sleep on the floor instead of having to walk the 5 steps to bed.  Lesson: eating like a cowboy is hard work.