it's been awhile since i blogged about my dining experiences on 82nd ave.
as mentioned before, bahn mi is quickly becoming a weekly meal for me. so far, i've tried the bahn mi at three establishments on 82nd ave, all between divison and powell street: best baguette, ha vu bahn mi, and fubonn deli. i have to say, best baguette is still at the top of my list. the bahn mi i ate today at ha vu was tasty. in fact, the salty chicken filling was even better than best baguette's chicken. despite this, best baguette is still the champion because the determining factor in a good bahn mi, in my opinion, are the raw vegetables. their vegetables are slightly pickled, crunchy, and they never use a light hand when stuffing the sandwich. plus, the bread at best baguette is simply outstanding. just the right amount of crispness, with a soft airy interior. it's perfect.
i'm sure i will continue to grab a quick bahn mi at fubonn from time to time. they're the least expensive, at $2.25 a piece. in general, i'm starving when i head that way to pick up groceries, so it's a handy way to calm my growling stomach while i make my way through the sensory-overload inducing aisles.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
hee-yahh. ha. ha haha ha.
it only seems fair to post something about my favorite dive bar on 82nd Ave. it's called the steinhaus, and i've mentioned it before. it's a stone's throw away from the trailer court, or the length of half a camel light 99, if you're want to document the length in cigarette form.
before today, i thought the best part about the steinhaus was the strong and cheap drinks they pour. it turns out, it gets even better. apparently, on "taco tuesdays" you can purchase two tacos for one thin dollar. we're talking WT tacos with hard shells, greasy beef, bright yellow cheese, and iceburg lettuce, all with a plastic ramiken of pace picante salsa. it doesn't get much better than this. i'm full as christmas goose, and it cost me half the price of a bus ticket! ah, heaven.
so, i'm sitting here. in the steinhaus.
the subject of today's blog is sponsored by the drunk-ass cackling lady siting on the other side of the bar. i feel like i'm really missing out on something, comedically, by hanging out in the pool room. what the fuck is so funny? i hear the word plantain. surely they aren't laughing about that wonderfully bitter relative of the banana. i mean, maybe? wait. now she's talking about her daughter's wedding. i ought to perk up... god her laugh is amazing..
john the bartender just walked in. unlike colin, john is afraid of the bottle. his pours are weak, and he has the disposition of a bartender working on mississippi or alberta street. the "thoughful pour", where the bartender considers what the patron is paying for with their $3-$5 dollars. bullshit, in my book.
you work in a dive bar, john. pour drinks like you work in one.
i suppose at this point it can't get much more exciting. i hear high-five's in the distance, more cackling, and the sound of a silent jukebox that yearns for my money. i think i'll wander over there and drop a few coins in for my pleasure...
before today, i thought the best part about the steinhaus was the strong and cheap drinks they pour. it turns out, it gets even better. apparently, on "taco tuesdays" you can purchase two tacos for one thin dollar. we're talking WT tacos with hard shells, greasy beef, bright yellow cheese, and iceburg lettuce, all with a plastic ramiken of pace picante salsa. it doesn't get much better than this. i'm full as christmas goose, and it cost me half the price of a bus ticket! ah, heaven.
so, i'm sitting here. in the steinhaus.
the subject of today's blog is sponsored by the drunk-ass cackling lady siting on the other side of the bar. i feel like i'm really missing out on something, comedically, by hanging out in the pool room. what the fuck is so funny? i hear the word plantain. surely they aren't laughing about that wonderfully bitter relative of the banana. i mean, maybe? wait. now she's talking about her daughter's wedding. i ought to perk up... god her laugh is amazing..
john the bartender just walked in. unlike colin, john is afraid of the bottle. his pours are weak, and he has the disposition of a bartender working on mississippi or alberta street. the "thoughful pour", where the bartender considers what the patron is paying for with their $3-$5 dollars. bullshit, in my book.
you work in a dive bar, john. pour drinks like you work in one.
i suppose at this point it can't get much more exciting. i hear high-five's in the distance, more cackling, and the sound of a silent jukebox that yearns for my money. i think i'll wander over there and drop a few coins in for my pleasure...
Sunday, April 4, 2010
drunk actors in a lover's scene
i had a court date last week.
i dressed up for it. it's funny how dressing up for a court date is such a specialized event. it's almost like picking out what you're going to wear for a blind date with someone. first impressions are everything, they say. truth be told, in a courtroom they really ARE everything considering your pocketbook, freedom, and criminal record are riding on that impression. i analyzed every thread of every article of clothing that morning. "does this color of blue make me look like MORE of a criminal?" and "maybe if i put my hair in pigtails i'll get less jail time." at least if you're judged by your outfit on a first date you know the person is an asshole and you're better off anyway. all of that energy was a waste of time because my lawyer immediately told me to come back in two weeks since the judge that day was "more stern than most." hopefully the judge in two weeks will be impressed by my punk-rock pollyanna look.
i have decided that i've moved past the phase of shame about my recent legal troubles. turning my dui experience into a form of artistic impression seems like the only way to make it worth all of this trouble. my photo turned up in "busted" magazine (a weekly newspaper featuring every mug shot taken the previous week) a week after i was pulled over. imagine the worst, and i mean THE WORST, photograph ever taken of you being mass produced and sold in every convenience store in a city of over 500,000 people. at that point, you just have to say "fuck it."
as of 9 days ago, i am no longer a licensed driver. riding a bus from 82nd ave is even more interesting than living on 82nd ave. i sat next to a sixty-something gentleman yesterday who called himself "an old hepcat". a teenage girl got on the bus, and he whispers in my ear "look at that cute one. she's a little young for me though." i think my eardrum got a buzz just from the fumes on his breath. god, i thought. is that how i smell when i drink whiskey? i fucking hope not.
i was waiting for the division bus yesterday when a spindly gray-haired metal head hit me up for light conversation. i had just gotten off work, and was in no mood for any conversational topics that went beyond the weather or how damn long the bus was taking to arrive. "what's your name?" he asked. "lacy. what's yours?" "casey," he says "casey and lacy. that's cute." uh oh... i knew i was being hit-on when he asked what my favorite color is. that's a tell-tale sign you've moved beyond small talk and into the land of getting to know you. this isn't what i bargained for, but i roll with it. eventually, he asks if i work in sellwood, and (i'm an idiot) i say "yes, at new seasons." bad move, lacy. the guy showed up at my work today to say hello, then proceded to stare at me from the cheese case for about ten minutes. of course, my co-worker thought this was all hilarious and started cracking stalker jokes. ugh. i need to learn to keep my head phones on and my mouth shut at bus stops.
i dressed up for it. it's funny how dressing up for a court date is such a specialized event. it's almost like picking out what you're going to wear for a blind date with someone. first impressions are everything, they say. truth be told, in a courtroom they really ARE everything considering your pocketbook, freedom, and criminal record are riding on that impression. i analyzed every thread of every article of clothing that morning. "does this color of blue make me look like MORE of a criminal?" and "maybe if i put my hair in pigtails i'll get less jail time." at least if you're judged by your outfit on a first date you know the person is an asshole and you're better off anyway. all of that energy was a waste of time because my lawyer immediately told me to come back in two weeks since the judge that day was "more stern than most." hopefully the judge in two weeks will be impressed by my punk-rock pollyanna look.
i have decided that i've moved past the phase of shame about my recent legal troubles. turning my dui experience into a form of artistic impression seems like the only way to make it worth all of this trouble. my photo turned up in "busted" magazine (a weekly newspaper featuring every mug shot taken the previous week) a week after i was pulled over. imagine the worst, and i mean THE WORST, photograph ever taken of you being mass produced and sold in every convenience store in a city of over 500,000 people. at that point, you just have to say "fuck it."
as of 9 days ago, i am no longer a licensed driver. riding a bus from 82nd ave is even more interesting than living on 82nd ave. i sat next to a sixty-something gentleman yesterday who called himself "an old hepcat". a teenage girl got on the bus, and he whispers in my ear "look at that cute one. she's a little young for me though." i think my eardrum got a buzz just from the fumes on his breath. god, i thought. is that how i smell when i drink whiskey? i fucking hope not.
i was waiting for the division bus yesterday when a spindly gray-haired metal head hit me up for light conversation. i had just gotten off work, and was in no mood for any conversational topics that went beyond the weather or how damn long the bus was taking to arrive. "what's your name?" he asked. "lacy. what's yours?" "casey," he says "casey and lacy. that's cute." uh oh... i knew i was being hit-on when he asked what my favorite color is. that's a tell-tale sign you've moved beyond small talk and into the land of getting to know you. this isn't what i bargained for, but i roll with it. eventually, he asks if i work in sellwood, and (i'm an idiot) i say "yes, at new seasons." bad move, lacy. the guy showed up at my work today to say hello, then proceded to stare at me from the cheese case for about ten minutes. of course, my co-worker thought this was all hilarious and started cracking stalker jokes. ugh. i need to learn to keep my head phones on and my mouth shut at bus stops.
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