But not with this man. Instead, I got to see one of my oldest friends in the world, Sammy, and his lovely wife Jean. Here are our feet.

Yes, I’m wearing black toe nailpolish. No, I don’t know why.

And here’s my lunch–every single item (tri-tip steak sandwich, pesto pasta, calamari, garlic bread and sauteed mushrooms) has a whopping dose of garlic.

The garlic festival probably isn’t the best place to bring a date, what with the garlic breath and all. Carnivores, however, are welcome.

Also welcome? Fire!

These guys are Pyro Chefs. It was HOT outside even without overseeing a giant fire.

The heat, in fact, might explain this line for the garlic ice cream.

I’m at the end of it. The phrase “garlic ice cream” is underneath the word “free” in the distance. I guess it’s not too surprising that they have to give the stuff away. And here’s the ice cream and some shadows.

One of us evidently broke out into dance just as I was taking this picture. Also, my hands are ugly. Why are my hands so ugly?

But I got to give these garlic festival people props on the garlic ice cream. Granted, the first bite is bizarre, but once you get over the hump, it’s surprisingly good, with just the right balance of savory and sweet.

If you want to read more about the garlic festival (as well as onion, tomato and bourbon festivals), you can check out an article I wrote here. This is a lame way to end my post, but I’m going with it.

Anyhow, I was feeling all satisfied watching my dumplings puff up and then turned away for five minutes, and when I returned, my dumplings were gone. Dissipated! I’m not too sure what happened…. I assume the rollicking boil of the stew was more than the dumplings could take?

This incident turned my pleasant day into a bit of downer. Because who wants chicken ’n dumplings without the dumplings? It’s just not the same. And now I have all this dumpling-less stew left over that already bores me when I’ve only eaten one bowl-ful. I also am left with a bunch of dishes in the sink, which don’t seem worth my while when I didn’t even get any dumplings out of the deal. Sigh.

While practicing for the premier guacamole competition in the world, I attempted my “Turning Guacanese” guacamole with various types of wasabi: a wasabi paste from a tube, a wasabi powder, a wasabi-and-balsamic-reduction and that Play-Doh-like wasabi clump that comes with sushi. I determined the latter produced the best wasabi flavor–less-preservative-y than the tube, less heinous smelling than the powder, not as outrageously potent as the reduction. First-place glory seemed near!

Sunday morning I arose, made my guac without incident (unlike last year), but little did I know, the wheels of disaster were already in motion–competitors with similar wasabi guac foresight and a lust for victory were making their guac as I made mine! Unknowing, I went to my old neighborhood of Atwater Village for Adam’s annual Guac Bowl and set up shop with my very zen-looking entry, which Tim said would win “Classiest” if there were such a category. There is not.

I look so hopeful.

The entries trickled in: “Guactopus” had impressive homemade ceramic tendrils groping from the guac, frozen savory “Guacsicles” were disgusting, the “Walking Talking Guac King” featured a live little boy threatening to cry if you didn’t vote for Adam’s guac, which was attached to the child’s head by way of a sombrero. There were, in fact, numerous entries, but most rather complicated to describe, so please check them out here.

The guacs kept coming, and then, disaster struck! In walked Lauren and Dave with “Domo Ariguaco, Mr. Roboto,” featuring both a braver dose of wasabi than my timid attempt AND pickled ginger. You could smell the defeat in the air. Or maybe that was just the guac.

Soon after, Kevin’s “Guaczilla” stomped in with an even heartier dose of wasabi–as Marissa described it: “That’s just wasabi with a little bit of avocado mixed in.” And while the guac seemed a better fit for clearing up sinuses than as a food to eat for pleasure, the presentation was impressive. Wires, plumbing pipes, duct tape, newspaper and twine formed the body’s structure with guac patted around it–the skin of the avocado served as the skin of the lizard. As a final touch, olives were used as eyes.

Someone (who? I cannot remember.) said that Lauren, Dave and I (but absolutely not Kevin) helped prove that Asian and Mexican flavors can peacefully–no, successfully–co-exist together. Thank you, kind stranger, but words bring little comfort at this time.

Then, all the wasabi guacs met their real match in the alternative category–it’s not fiery flavors people crave after all, it’s sweet. “Guacolate Chip Ice Cream” arrived, a surprisingly light and delicious sweet avocado ice cream (though does using avocados necessarily make it guac? I don’t know….) that was downright refreshing after sampling so many heavy savory guacamoles. I even voted for it.

The ballots cast, Adam announced the winners. Lauren, Dave and I tied for second in the alternative category for our wasabi guacs—I’m surprised we didn’t cancel each other out all together. Here’s how the rest shook out:

Best Tasting, Tradtional: Shahan Sanossian’s unnamed guacamole
Best Tasting, Alternative: “Guacolate Chip Ice Cream,” Steve Shoffner and Lara Minassian
Best Presentation: “Guaczilla,” Kevin Seccia
The Icarus Award (or Most Terrible): “Guacsicles,” Shahan Sanossian

Also of note, Dakota built a fountain of guac, called “Guac Grotto,” by rewiring a chocolate fountain so it wouldn’t heat his thin yogurt-based guacamole. As Graham said, “If a fountain of guac can’t win, I’m out.”

And just because I find it vaguely interesting, here’s what Wikipedia has to say about wasabi: “Wasabi paste bears a superficial resemblance to guacamole, a popular staple of Mexican-style cuisine, a similarity which can lead to an unpleasant surprise for those unfamiliar with Japanese cuisine.” And also: “Wasabi ice cream is a recent but increasingly popular innovation.”

Perhaps next year we can expect a wasabi guacolate chip ice cream? We will see….

I’m going for my fourth win–I believe I hold the record at three, but I’m sure I’ll be corrected if I’m wrong. I would say I’m going for my fourth and fifth win except that I’ve opted for a pretty presentation that actually looks like something you’d want to eat (yes, yes, I know–I’m so predictable), so I imagine there’s no way I can win best presentation. I fully expect best presentation to go to a full-size float made of guac. Somebody has got to be planning one.

Here’s my winning entry from last year.

And can I just complain a bit about the price of avocados these days? Not to mention the unfortunate taste and texture of them! I bought a little bag of Trader Joe’s avocados, and it took a week and a half before they were soft enough to cut open. And even then they were weird and rubbery, and I had to throw them out. I will pray every night this week for soft, tasty avocados come Guac Bowl day. And I will give all my competitors a tip out of the kindness of my heart: Buy your avocados very soon, if you haven’t already, and fold them up in a brown bag to help them ripen. Don’t put them in a plastic bag, as I stupidly did one year–I only succeeded in suffocating them. Who knew you can suffocate avocados? Also, an fyi, according to The New Food Lover’s Companion: “It is not true that burying the avocado pit in the guacamole helps to maintain good color.” So douse your guacs in citrus, people! It gives it that beautiful green glow!
How did this entry turning into me passing valuable information on to my competitors when I was planning to talk trash the entire time? I do not know.

This meal is a little foggy to me because I made and took the picture over a month ago. But I do recall it made me inordinately happy. If I remember the rest correctly (and I often don’t), this meal took place after a particularly long drive from work, and I walked into my place thinking, Oh my God I hate traffic, I need a beer, and what in the world am I going to make for dinner? I made Toasted Ciabatta Pizzas with olives and basil, the after-work salve, as it turns out.

This little makeshift pizza made me feel like I was at some upscale sports bar during happy hour having a beer and a snack, but instead I was at home alone, and that’s cool too, because I made this dinner myself (always very satisfying), and it was easy and tasted good. Ain’t a thing wrong with that.

Have you ever heard of using bread to grate your garlic? This one was new to me, but I loved it. Toast the bread, then rub the garlic against it for a surprisingly effective mincing. And I’m sorry that useful information is so boring to read sometimes.

This is an abrupt ending, but it will have to do since I have apartments to look for (kicked out of mine due to “owner occupancy.” Boo!)

I made Greek Sandwiches because there are many vegetarians in the group, and they’re like, GIVE ME SOME VEGTABLES—NO, I DON’T WANT YOUR MEAT! So I figured they’d appreciate these little veggies pitas. And they were in fact appreciated. Crunchy and piquant, there a nice healthy change from the traditional picnic fare and seemed in line with a true Greek salad, which I, clearly, am a huge expert on since I am ambivalent toward salads and Greek is one of the few lineages I can’t claim. But I’ve been to Greece, folks! And I’ve heard the cats scream! (There’s no escaping this horrendous noise in Greece for some reason. Screaming cats are everywhere.) In Greece, I noticed Greek salads rarely came with salad greens and consisted mainly of tomatoes, red onions, and cucumber with a big hunk of feta on top. And … (I include an ellipsis to add suspense) my recipe also contains no salad greens. (My talk of salad greens is boring, but I’m going to see it till the end.) Since my deduction powers are strong, I can therefore deduce, my Greek pitas=true Greek salad with the addition of flatbread.

I was a little concerned about the dressing soggying up the pita, so I filled them when we got to our picnic spot. But next time I’ll just save myself the hassle, pre-fill them and risk soggy pitas.

Paul Reubens, Dotty, Francis (or Frances?), the ex-con and the waitress all from Pee Wee’s Big Adventure showed up to greet the crowd. (Adam says to ask someone our age if they’ve seen this movie is like asking, Do you breathe air? I had never seen the movie before, and I think Adam might have been telling me I’m way out of the loop. And did you know Tim Burton directed this movie? Somehow I didn’t until recently. Again, out of the loop.) Here’s a pic of my pita, which is a fun phrase to say out loud (try it!):

I had no idea my thumbs were so ugly. I feel no better off for having this knowledge now. Sigh.

P.S. Recipes are a pain to type up, and I’m not convinced anyone’s actually using this blog as a recipe resource. Besides Maggie, who has tried this Spinach and Rice Soup, which is of no use to anyone now since we are all afraid of spinach, and these Risotto Pancakes. (Thanks, Mags!) But what I’ve determined is: I will only post recipes if they are repeats, which says a lot about the recipe, or if the recipe just blew my mind and I have to share it with you RIGHT NOW, or if it’s super-easy to type up. However, feel free to request I post recipes that I write about and you want to try because I’ll happily oblige if I know someone is actually going to cook it.

THE END.

Here’s the super-short entry I wrote months ago. And there’s really no good reason why I couldn’t find the time to post it. I am a bad blogger! Bad, bad blogger! Okay, here it is, for reals:

I’m an adult, and you can be too! Just heat up this super-thin-crusted, fancy-cheesed pizza with chichi toppings (ham! carmelized onions! Gruyere!), cut into small squares, serve to a crowd, and you are golden! Everyone will ooh and aah and comment on how nicely you’ve grown up! And you’ll like the taste too! Because it’s sophisticated without including crazy foreign ingredients to make you scrunch up your nose!

Here is the crappy, out-focus-picture:

And I’m out.

(Please refrain from: we-waited-over-a-month-for-this comments. Think of this as me warming back up before I get into the groove. Thank you.)

They felt differently.

They only offered me a measly $20 discount, which they never made good on. And while I’ve heard all sorts of horror tales about Wal-Mart from the book Nickel & Dimed and the movie Wal-Mart: The High Cost of Low Price, I felt a little more outraged when it affected me personally. (That’s normal, right?) Therefore, all people should boycott Wal-Mart, if not for their general evilness, then for me and my tale of un-air-conditioned woe and sorrow!

So, anyhoo, the air conditioner was stored in my garage that September and was finally brought out of hiding when its services were needed last month. It should have been released from hibernation earlier, but previously when I opened up the box the air conditioner came in, I found its size and booklet of instructions very intimidating, so I kept putting off its installation. It took an outrageous heat wave and the help of my friend Rob to bring to fruition what should have taken place a year ago when I first ordered the damn thing.

I made Banana Bread after the air conditioner was installed simply because I can (also because I owed Rob an edible thank you, and I needed to make a July breakfast item for my blog.) The oven was on, the air conditioner was pumping, and I felt cool as can be … whenever I was in my bedroom anyways. My air conditioner doesn’t quite pump enough to cool as many square inches as it claims to on its box. But if I strategically place three fans throughout the house to push the cool air into various areas, you can almost feel a difference. And sleeping is way easier in a cool, air-conditioned bedroom than in a hot, muggy one.

Assessment: I’ve made and enjoyed many banana breads in my day, and I’ve determined that this one from the Junior League cookbook is the best. I don’t say that lightly. And since topping always makes bread taste better, I added a Streusel Topping from Family Circle. I blame the heat for the fact may streusel melded and never reached crumbly status when I mixed it together with a fork. My technique could also be at fault, but I prefer to blame the heat (and Wal-Mart too while I’m at it–why not? I’m sure I could think of a way to blame Wal-Mart for my banana bread inadequacies if I thought about it long enough.)

Also, did you know boys love banana bread? I ended up making muffins since my bread pan ran off (the floozy!), but at least this way I got to snag a few muffins for myself and share them with some male friends. Jim said he doesn’t normally care for banana bread, but he devoured mine and especially liked “the stuff on the top.” And Matt, who doesn’t like any food at all, more or less, said the muffin he ate was “like a golden biscuit.” So boys apparently love banana bread. Who knew? And here they are pictured on some hand-me-down plates from your mother.

Later in the evening after excessive amounts of alcohol, 4 Cheese and Artichoke Dip flirted their way back to reconciliation, then, naturally, jumped in the hot tub. While they got cozy in the hot tub, Melissa, Maggie and Christine determined they were sick of 4 Cheese and Artichoke’s antics, and in order for peace to reign in the house, one of them had to go. They determined Artichoke would go since if you didn’t get a bite of jalapeño when you dipped in your cracker, she was basically bland.

The three girls approached their housemates and told the dips they couldn’t live with the two of them in the same house any longer, but everyone would be allowed to vote to determine who would stay. But in a shocking reversal of allegiance, Melissa and Christine voted to keep Artichoke Jalapeño since they decided when Maggie left the room that they liked Artichoke and her occasional kick with crusty bread (crackers don’t do her justice) as well as slathered on omelets. They preferred to kick 4-Cheese out of the house since, as Melissa put it, she found his appearance “disturbing and not at all attractive.” And while Christine felt he might taste good heated on a sesame bagel, she felt he tasted a little too strongly of cream cheese. Also, both Melissa and Christine were really tired of 4 Cheese’s lame raps.

So far, Blue Cheese Roasted Pecan Dip and Spicy Feta Dip have entered the victors’ circle. Now Artichoke Jalapeño Dip has taken her place among the winners. Who will be the next Great American Dip-Off Finalist? Find out in one week? Two? Three? (There’s really no telling.)

My recent coconut cream obsession has come from a fling I’ve been having with the piña colada lately. Frothy and potent, it’s my hot afternoon drink of choice and has made coconut cream a staple in my pantry. I also have another coconut cream infatuation: the Thai soup tom kha. Made of coconut cream and lemongrass broth, it’s rich and borders on buttery, and I find it pretty much impossible to go into a Thai restaurant and not order it.

My grilled chicken recipe did not list lemongrass as an ingredient, but it was recommended as an addition in italics. I figured a tom kha-like marinade couldn’t be a bad thing, so the marinade was thrown together one warm evening that was, despite the recipe’s original draw, sadly void of lemongrass. While coconut cream has reached staple status in my kitchen, lemongrass has not. So the marinade was made with only the official ingredients listed in the recipe proper (coconut milk, chicken, lime, cilantro, salt and pepper.)

Assessment: Since I had successfully paired a lime chicken with polenta previously, grilled polenta became the companion to this chicken as well. My friend described polenta as “filler, like yucca,” the latter being a Caribbean potato, more or less. And then he went on to say I best not rave about this meal on thecookingcritic.com. I lashed out by calling him an uncultured polenta amateur. He reminded me of his art degree and all the culture it implied. I harrumphed.

While the grill gave the polenta a nice flavor, I have to say I much prefer my polenta fried—perhaps this isn’t such a big surprise. The chicken, on the other hand, had a pleasant, mild flavor to it, but I had hoped for something with a little more oomph. Marinating it over night might have helped, and I think it would have benefited from being skewered next to some pineapple. But all in all, I prefer the similar-but-better-tasting Lime-Cilantro Chicken I made before and will probably turn to it next time I grill up some chicken.