Restaurants

What happens in Vegas, stays on your waistline ¹

I’ve got some explaining to do.

Yesterday, I threw my last shred of self respect out the window and ventured into the Imperial Palace Hotel and Casino.

It was the one place in Vegas I vowed to never set foot in. My only excuse is that I was lured there by visions of girls dressed up as potatoes and bacon dancing in knee high boots to “Love Shack”, their faces illuminated by the faint glow of lava lamps.

At least that’s what I expected when Scott informed me he was taking me to Hash House a-go-go (located in Imperial Palace) for brunch.

The bad news? No breakfast themed go go dancers. The good news? Chicken and waffles.

I have to give Scott credit for seeing past their creepy tag line, (“Twisted farm food” Ewww. ) and insisting we give it a try as they’ve been featured on Man vs. Food.

It took a lot of bravery, but I made my way through the “I.P.” to Hash House, which actually looked kind of cool. Go figure. Too bad the wait for a table was at least an hour. I saw this as my chance to make a run for it, but quickly agreed to stay when Scott sent me to the nearest roulette table with a fresh Bloody Mary in hand. While I lost twenty dollars by the time our table was ready, the dealer was a Filipino Tina Turner, so really, it was a win. Somehow it just hurts less when she’s the one sweeping your hard earned money away.

Finally, it was time to eat. I quickly ordered the chicken and waffles, which clearly upset Scott.

: How dare you order what me and my iPhone were going to eat?!

He’s vehemently opposed to ordering two of the same thing, and I had stolen his (and iPhone’s) breakfast. Instead he requested the Andy’s Sage Fried Chicken Benedit, which wasn’t so bad as it was the dish featured on his beloved Man vs. Food.

When the waiter brought out our plates, they did not disappoint. I give you, exhibit A:

I didn't think chicken and waffles could ever be classy. I thought wrong.

What's this you ask? Why, it's fried chicken, bacon, spinach, tomato, fried spaghetti, scrambled eggs, chipotle cream sauce and two biscuits. Obviously.

…and exibhit B (the b is for bloated):

Shameful.

You don’t want to know what happened in between these two photos. Although it looked a little something like this.

Get angry with it.

We were very, very ashamed of ourselves. So ashamed that I had to record video evidence just in case we ever thought it might be a good idea to go back.

Well, at least I won something in Vegas.

PS…I had to replay this to Scott the next morning when he suggested we make a triumphant return to the Hash House.

I must say that dinner last night wasn’t much better…but Scott and I have promised to pretend it never happened, which means it can’t be discussed on the internet.

What can be discussed is the blueberry muffin I scarfed down this morning, which was quite literally the size of my head.

Someone may or may not have asked if I was pregnant today at the pool.

And that person may or may not have been my husband.

Relax, I’m just kidding.

But I’m pretty sure he was thinking it.

But seriously, does this mean I finally get to buy some of the cute Liz Lange maternity clothes at Target?

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The Conveyor Belt of Regret ⁰

I thought I learned my lesson last time.

I really thought so.

Yet somehow I was foiled again by the sushi conveyor belt which quickly went from this:

To this:

Filthy.

If you’ve never tried a restaurant like this, I highly recommend it. The conveyor belt rolls freshly prepared small plates past your table, and you grab whatever looks good. The plates are color coded to indicate the price of each dish.

The novelty of this stupid contraption gets me every time.

In an attempt to justify the empty plate photo, please allow me to explain that I was eating out of sheer unadulterated fear. That’s what happens when you find yourself on the set of the next “Saw” sequel while trying to find the restroom. Watch and learn:

That’s me walking from the bathroom back into the restaurant. I half expected someone to pop out from behind a corner and fling a bowl of soy sauce into my eyes so that I would be blinded as they carried me off into an unmarked cargo van.

Or even worse — that I would be confronted by an overly aggressive elderly woman trying to sell me a knock off Gucci handbag.

Those ladies scare the living daylights out of me.

While the location of the restrooms is beyond inconvenient, Genki Sushi in the Denny Triangle (connected to the QFC across from the Space Needle) did seem to have a few redeeming qualities, one of them being this little culinary treasure:

How can something be so wrong when it tastes so right?

The marriage of sushi and hot dogs in one bite sized nugget of goodness for just one dollar? There has to be a catch.

And there is.

They don’t have mustard.

The good news is that wasabi tastes almost as good if your hungry enough.

Unfortunately, the hot dog roll was a bit underwhelming. While I love sushi and hot dogs independently, they aren’t all that great when combined. Kind of like cupcakes and salsa. Good on their own, baaaaad together. On a scale of one to ten I give the hot dog roll a “meh”.

My favorite discovery was Dorayaki, a Japanese pastry which I shall call “the pancake bean sandwich”.

If only it came with syrup...

Imagine two miniature flapjacks with a sweet bean paste custard in between. It came wrapped in plastic which leads me to believe it may be the Asian version of a Twinkie and is probably usually dispensed out of a vending machine.

Sadly, eating from a vending machine is probably a step up from eating off a conveyor belt.

I did love the fact that the Genki logo is an angry face. Nothing enhances soy sauce and wasabi like a cartoon face glaring at you.

I appreciate a plate with an attitude.

Which reminds me, did I tell you about my brilliant invention?

The wasabi wand (who doesn’t want to feel like Harry Potter/Glenda the Good Witch when they eat sushi?) is my totally genius brainchild, crafted after three plates of sushi and a glass or two of sake. Envision a mini potato-masher-like tool used to easily blend wasabi and soy sauce together, eliminating the awkward chopstick maneuver that takes far too much time and effort.

Yes, I know. I’m a sushi utensil prodigy. And if you steal my idea I will fling a bowl of soy sauce into your eyes to blind you as I ~~carry~~ find someone to carry you off into an unmarked cargo van.

Or not.

Scott quickly pointed out that authentic sushi is never dipped in a mix of soy sauce and wasabi. The two condiments are traditionally kept separate. My dream of selling millions of Wasabi Wands on QVC was crushed in an instant.

Luckily, the waiter walked by two seconds later with a bowl of miso soup to distract me.

Unluckily, it was quite possibly the worst miso soup I have ever consumed.

The conveyor belt had been ravaged. It was looking less and less like an abundant trail of fresh sushi and more and more like an abandoned amusement park. As I gazed at the dozens of plates (only about half are shown in the photo below) that our table of six had consumed, I started to regret offering to pick up the tab. Surely this would cost me a cool c-note.

My little bro, Janss. He out ate me...but it was neck and neck for a while there. To add insult to injury, his hair is prettier than mine.

But then I walked up to the cashier and was given a receipt for…$29?

I paid quickly and didn’t ask questions.

Here’s hoping the next time I spend two hours with a conveyor belt it’s one of the treadmill variety.

Editor’s Note: Genki Sushi is definitely not Katrina-approved (despite what the photos of empty plates might suggest). If you have a hankering to eat random sushi traveling past you at approximately two miles per hour, I suggest you give Blue-C Sushi a try.

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Lavender is sexy

Sixteen pounds

I don't think you're ready for this jelly

Me gusta ²

There’s Mexican food, and then there’s real Mexican food.

I’m not talking about the stuff that’s covered in six pounds of American cheese accompanied by a margarita in a glass the size of a bowling ball.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that. In fact, there are oh-so-many things about the fine Azteca family of restaurants that are so very, very right. And let us not forget the fabulously American “Mexi-Fries” which are really just tater tots. Brilliant, Taco Time, brilliant.

But if it’s true authenticity your going for, I suggest you give La Carta de Oaxaca in Ballard a try. The restaurant is operated by a family from the Oaxaca (pronounced 0h-ha-ca) region of Mexico, and features dishes authentic to the state of, you guessed it, Oaxaca.

While doing some research (yes, I actually do read up on some of the things I write about) I learned that Oaxaca is the birth place of mole (a deliciously rich Mexican sauce that has a bitter chocolate flavor) and is also known for it’s spicy cuisine. This officially makes Oaxaca my new favorite Mexican state as I love anything spicy or slathered in mole.

Oh, and I say “new favorite” because prior to this afternoon Chihuahua was my favorite state. What? It’s Jolie’s motherland.

Viva Chihuahua

If you want to dine at La Carta, be prepared to wait at least 20-30 minutes. It’s a good restaurant. People are aware of this and there’s always a line. I suggest you deal with it because the food is worth it. Good things come to those who wait. And by good things I mean an array of beverages that await while you sit patiently at La Carta’s bar until your table is ready.

Now this is a waiting room

The place has a unique ambiance, despite being extremely busy and crowded.

Nothing says "ambiance" like a tough guy wearing a chili pepper necklace.

Trust me, he’s even more impressive in person.

The tables are small and often times, a waiter will take drastic measures to accomodate additional diners. A few weeks back, a date with the hubby became an impromptu dinner party when our waiter pushed a second table against ours and seated two strange men.

I say strange because they were severely intoxicated investment bankers who claimed to also be professional break dancers.

Of course, I mean, why wouldn’t they be professional break dancers?

And that’s how our date became a full blown fiesta, complete with an invitation to join our new friends at a strip club in Shoreline after dinner commenced.

Being the party animals that we are, Scott and I suggested a trip to the gelato shop next door instead.

After much deliberation, the husband and I opted for the destination with the best goodies, which to be very clear was the gelato shop. Our friends declined.

But I think they really did appreciate the invitation.

So back to the food. Its wonderful, and pretty cheap. Most entrees range from $5-$7 and are quite filling. I meant to take a photo of the chicken empanada with yellow curry sauce I enjoyed on Friday, but alas, the wafting scent of deliciousness lured me in. It wasn’t until I was halfway finished, and making “nom! nom! nom!” chewing sounds that I remembered to take this photo.

I punished it

Perhaps you would prefer a photo of a meal that hasn’t been assaulted by my mouth.

Much better

And did I mention the salsa bar?

Its wonderful. I would say it was the highlight of the night, but that would be a lie.

Because the highlight of the night would be the moment I spilled my cerveza across the window next to me, scaring the bejeesus out of the diners sitting outdoors on the other side of the window.

Truly, the only thing that would have made the evening better would be a pinata.

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Lavender is sexy ²

I know, I know…the scent of lavender often makes me think of old-lady body wash and bath salts. But have you ever tried eating it?

Well you should — it’s delicious. In fact, I dare say that lavender is the new pomegranate. (Remember when pomegranate became the trendy flavor and was added to just about everything?)

Lavender is all the rage in Seattle, possibly because the lavender capital of North America is in Sequim, WA — just 2 hours outside the city. Sequim even has a lavender festival every July to celebrate the tasty flower. I’m hoping to attend this year and consume large quantities of purple goodies and cocktails. Sounds fabulous, right?

But if you can’t venture all the way up to Sequim to sample some flower-inspired food fear not, Seattle has plenty of options. Here are a few of my favorites.

Lavender Cupcake at Cupcake Royale

Enough said. I've spent many a lonely night with this tasty treat.

Did you know Cupcake Royale has Happy Hour? Unfortunately, cocktails are not involved, but when business is slow, the sell 6 cupcakes for the price of 3 ($9). If you go an hour before close you’ll usually hit them up in time for the deal. (They place a sign on the counter so you can tell when it’s happening.) All of their cupcakes are totally scrumptious, and if you’re not brave enough for the lavender, I highly recommend the Lemon Drop. Cupcake Royale’s original store is in Ballard; they also have locations in Capitol Hill, West Seattle, Bellevue and Madrona.

Honey Lavender Ice Cream at Molly Moon’s

Heaven in a cone

Molly Moon’s is a Seattle staple, and always has a loooong line outside the door. Yet most people will tell you it’s well worth the wait. All of Molly Moon’s treats are made with dairy from hormone-free Western Washington cattle and incorporate local, organic, seasonal flavors and ingredients. This particular flavor features locally harvested Olympic Mountain honey and organic Sequim lavender bits. The result is a creamy vanilla like ice cream with a divine yet subtle twist. Perfection.

If you’re not in the mood for lavender, the salted caramel is without a doubt the most popular flavor. But beware, on a few occasions it’s been the perfect balance of sweet and savory, yet I’ve often found it to be a tad bit heavy handed on the salt. Balsamic strawberry is another good choice.

And just in case you wanted a cherry on top of all this goodness, Molly Moon’s also just debuted their traveling ice cream truck which is most likely coming to a Seattle neighborhood near you.

Lavender Latte at Firehouse Coffee in Ballard

Firehouse also offers a wide variety of organic, vegan and gluten-free pastries and treats

Coffee + Lavender? Ummm…..yes please!

When I heard about the Lavender Latte at Firehouse, I just had to give it a try. After dropping Scott off for a sailboat race yesterday morning, I hit up the drive through for a cup of joe, flavored with lavender syrup from, you guessed it, Sequim. My first sip did not disappoint. The Barista recommended I try the lavender mocha next time, as the flavor of the flower really compliments the taste of chocolate. Yesterday’s latte was so delicious, I might not make it through the end of today without finding out what this mocha business is all about.

*******

Did you know you can also make your own lavender syrup at home? How cool is that!? All you need is 1 quart of simple syrup and 1/4 cup of lavender flowers. Simply combine the syrup and flowers in a saucepan and bring to a simmer. Let the mixture simmer for about ten minutes, then remove from the heat and let steep for another 30 minutes. Strain, cool and voila, you’ve just scored yourself some tasty lavender syrup.

The syrup is not only great in lattes and mochas, but can also be incorporated into cocktails, like this recipe for a Sparkling Lavender Lemon Drop from the Pomegranate Bistro in Renton. (See, I told you lavender was the new pomegranate.)