The GGA Project -- Day #348 "Sweet Start"

Last weekend after the 5K action, the racers and I headed to a little greasy spoon up in Vallejo called Scotty's.  Scotty's was not only a pretty decent greasy spoon, they also had a full case of big-ass donuts for the offering.  And though I used to eat donuts a-plenty (especially in my childhood), I realized it'd been quiet some time (over two years, when I think about it) since I'd had one.  The idea that I must amend that soon landed hard in the back on my mind.


This morning I dropped the Monkey off at his Dad's to spend the day.  I knew my Dad and bro would be off golfing for a while, and my Mom doing her my-"help"-would-just-be-getting-in-the-way part of the Thanksgiving dinner preparation for some time.  With a few hours to myself then, I set out in the opposite direction from where I usually turn to head home, with the idea of finding a decent spot for breakfast.  I thought it was probably too much to ask to get donuts and wi-fi in the same place, or to find a donut place that took debit cards.  So I consider it divine providence that I was getting gas across the street from a little spot that advertised ALL THREE on its sign.


Today's New Activity: Contemplating Thanks at the Region's Most Ridiculously Well-Stocked, Open 24-Hours (Even on Thanksgiving) Donut Shop


I have a feeling that Happy Donuts, in Palo Alto, will make quick work of all these pre-prepped boxes.

After all, even on Thanksgiving morning the place was well-trafficked.  It helps their business, I'm sure, that the staff is friendly, the wifi fast, and their space the largest I've ever seen for a donut shop!

And festive!

I found myself wishing I'd discovered it long ago.  The fact that it had dedicated parking and was off the main University Ave. strip would have made it a nice alternative to some of the time I've spent in the area in days past.  Oh well, I know now...

Ok, I felt like a super dork for taking so many pictures of the inside of a donut shop, but you seriously have to check out this selection.  Look at the drink cases alone!

The main donut case...

and the overflow donut cases:

Jeez Louise!  And oh, did I mention muffins and bagels?  There was a whole breakfast and regular sandwich menu as well.

Cigarettes anybody?

So yeah.  Since this would be my first donut in some time, I decided, what the hell, go all out with an apple fritter (right, like I wouldn't have gone for the apple fritter anyway).  But apparently my sweet consumption capabilities just aren't what they used to be (I swear I remember vividly being able to eat a King Sized Snickers in one sitting when I was 7 years old), so I brought it home to share.


But at that point it wasn't even about the donut.  I was just thankful to be out and about in the morning, thankful to find a nice new place with good wifi, thankful for the family I'd find when I got home, thankful Kalil would be back in the early evening, thankful for my health and employment, thankful for friends old and new, thankful for both the sunshine on that side of the bay and the rain back home on my side, thankful for laughter and joy.


In a word, thankful...

The GGA Project -- Day #165 "Threesome"

So in keeping with my family's stretch-your-birthday-into-a-weeklong-event tradition, tonight I was treated to dinner by my dear friends Nicole and Raul.  Since I am WAY over driving these days, Nicole was kind enough to drive up and meet me in Palo Alto after I dropped off Monkey, and Raul walked to the restaurant from the Caltrain station on his way home from work in San Francisco.  It was a good plan.


Since of course I wanted to try a new restaurant, I'd spent part of the afternoon reading Yelp reviews.  A word on that: I would never base all or even some of my decisions on reviews...any kind of reviews.  But Yelp can be helpful in so many ways.  You can find all the restaurant within a walking mile, sort them by type of cuisine, find links to their menus, discover their hours of operation and price ranges, and, yes, know before heading there whether or not the universal consensus is that they suck.


The other day my coworker asked me if I was "one of those people who write Yelp reviews."  He said he asked this based on the fact that whenever we have conversations about places to go, I cover all the major categories, including ease of parking, without his having to ask.  I was reminded of that this afternoon as I asked my brother 80 follow-up questions over the phone after he told me they just opened a Gray's Papaya down the street from his place and he'd gone there this afternoon for his first taste of NY dog (er, hot dog).  I guess, in a way, I do take something of a Yelper approach to dine out decisions these days.  I would hate it if the pre-informing kept me from trying something new and great, but I do feel like certain information is helpful to have before setting out. And while sometimes people can be overly harsh or demanding in their reviewing, I do find it to be the case that if--in over 100 reviews--the average rating for a restaurant is 3 stars or fewer, there are likely better options out there.


Which brings me to


Today's New Activity: Squished Together Dining at Osteria


Osteria is an Italian restaurant just one block off University Avenue in Palo Alto.  I didn't even read the reviews, just found their menus on a take out website and decided, based on one Yelp photo, that it would work.  When we got there I found it to be much smaller and the seating much more intimate than I'd expected.  But I kind of like that feel...for some reason that is how I picture restaurants in Little Italy, in New York to be.  Why do we need all sorts of space, anyway?


Raul had arrived some time before Nicole and I, so luckily when the host--who seemed a bit stressed and overwhelmed by the number of people waiting for tables (as was I on a random Wednesday evening--saw that the third part of Raul's party had arrived, he sat us right away.


This is definitely one of those places where the servers/host think it's so great, or their own tastes so refined, they have the right to attitude.  We saw the host sternly deny an elderly woman a table since her husband was still parking the car, and our own server, who did nothing to project a hint of friendliness, made it clear that Raul's Scampi Mediterranean choice was the only of the three of which he approved.  No matter...I wasn't there to have dinner with the host or our server.


I chose the Linguine al Pesto, which was excellent.

It was such a great experience to be out with these two, totally out-of-context.  For 10 years now I've been used to being out with them in or near downtown San Jose, and it's been a really long time since I've been out with them at all, especially without children, at a real grown-up restaurant.


My seat was facing the window, and as I watched all the other grownups walk by, and later, as we walked and passed by all the other packed-full restaurants on University Avenue, I daydreamed about how nice it would be to have the means to dine at all the nice restaurants, whenever I wanted.  The people inside looked vibrant, full of energy, bustling at (by then) 9pm on a Wednesday.  Or maybe that was my own projection.  And if so, I'll take it...it means that is inside me somewhere.


As I've mentioned here before, Nicole and Raul have been two steady and dependable constants in my life through a good share of ups and downs.  This year marked the 20th year of my friendship with Nicole (she was at the surprise 13th birthday party a friend through for me in the 8th grade!), and it just gets better as the time passes.


After dinner we ended up at Starbucks where we fell into a familiar pattern (by the way, I love how the word "familiar" finds its roots in "family"), Raul working on his laptop while Nicole and I talk Mommihood and friendship and new ideas and old flashbacks.  This time she was re-telling (by my request) the story of the customer who loved her when she worked at Starbucks (her first job when we moved to San Jose).  It's a wonder and a triumph of enduring friendship that I heard something new in that story this time around.


I consider it an absolute blessing, the fact that I'm sure to spend at least the next 33 years trading stories, new and recycled, with these true friends  :)

The GGA Project -- Day #143 "At the Coupa..."

Last week I ran into a friendly Venezuelan at the Apple store, who informed me that there was some good Venezuelan food nearby.  It made me think of all the cuisines of the world I've never tasted.  The only South American cuisine I've ever tried was Peruvian, and that was about 20 years ago!


Most people have sampled Mexican, Italian, Chinese and--in this area at least--Vietnamese, Indian/Pakistani, Thai, Mediterranean, and perhaps Korean food.  But these are just the mainest of mainstream when it comes to so-called ethnic foods.  There's a whole world out there of people who need to eat.  And what ARE they eating anyway?!  I feel like a good one day/per week of this project should be devoted to discovering the answer(s) to that question.


Today's New Activity: A Taste of Venezuela


The Coupa Cafe, in Palo Alto, is a warm and cozy, jumpin' joint.  The second I walked in I knew I'd be spending the evening here.  In fact, I'd left my computer in the car with the intention of retrieving it after dinner, but when I walked in and saw ample seating and gobs of people on their laptops, I decided to go back and get it and camp in for the night.

I was a little disappointed to find that there weren't a whole lot of traditional Venezuelan menu items offered.  Not that I know what traditional Venezuelan fare is (I'm basing this on the relatively small number of choices under the menu heading "Venezuelan Specialities).  While I'm sure they eat plenty of salads and pasta in Venezuela--from which there were plenty to choose--I wouldn't count any of those choices if my attempt is to sample new cuisine.

I did go with one tried-and-true: french fries, but only because the menu mentioned that they were seasoned and accompanied by three salsas called guasacaca, salsa trujillana, and salsa ajo.

I have to say that every single one of those dipping options were better than anything else I've ever eaten with fries.  Two were spicy, and they were all just full of flavor.  I'm a little sad at the thought of ever eating plain fries, or fries with ketchup, after this experience.

The traditional thing I ordered was an arepa, described as a thin white cornmeal giddle cake (similar to a sopapilla, actually, just a little more firm).  There were a few vegetarian options, and I chose the one with goat cheese and sundried tomatoes.

 The flavor was good, but the ratio of cheese to cake was just insane.  I can't imagine a scenario in which that much cheese seems appropriate, and this statement is coming from cheese's biggest fan!  I scraped more than half of it off and I was still done with the idea even of consuming more cheese by halfway into the thing.  I was kind of wishing at that moment that I'd gone with my instincts and ordered the black bean, cheese, and nata (Venezuelan sour cream) option.  I would have been a smidge bit less adventurous, but it'd likely be more inline with how the dish is traditionally eaten, and I generally find that's the best way to go when talking about foreign foods.

Still, there's a lot to celebrate here.  I love the atmosphere, the service was good, and the music is perfect.  Since I've been here I've heard some Mana unplugged, a meregue from La Machina, and some Buddha Bar selections; it's perfect for the mood here.

And since I'm in for the night, I think I'll wait a while and go for a bakery item, or perhaps the spicy hot chocolate I read about on Yelp.  I can't see much going wrong with either of those selections.

And I can't wait to see what region of the world's cuisine will be next in line!

The GGA Project -- Day #136 "Guilty Pleasure (?)"

After leaving Monkey at his Dad's this evening, I headed to University Avenue in Palo Alto for a date-with-self, and one of the places I was most excited to go to was Borders.  Man, talk about cheap thrills.  The thing is, I used to work at Barnes & Noble forever.  I left and went back to work there three times!  A part of me really loved that workplace, despite the fact that it was retail.  If you're gonna work in retail, I can scarcely imagine a better venue than the bookstore.


Since leaving work there permanently, I've gotten a little bit sad whenever I go into bookstores.  For a time there, the subjects I was browsing were less-than-fun (having to do with relationships and divorce and whatnot), and since then I've been spending most of any time I browse books in the children's section at the library.


But this evening I felt the strong pull to re-live the feeling of my youthful, exploratory jaunts to Borders...the very first Borders that opened near the mall just before I graduated from high school in Phoenix, Arizona.  I remember walking into that place for the first time with my parents, brother, and grandpa, and thinking it was the most magical store I could conceive of (not that I'd conceived of this one, but I'd be hard-pressed to conceive of one more awesome).  I mean, really.  Books, music, and a coffee shop, all rolled into one?!  Kids these days take such places for granted, but back then it was a true novelty.


And even though I liked working at Barnes & Noble, once you work at a place like that 40 hours/week, you don't exactly enjoy hanging out in one.  Tonight was the first time in years I'd felt free to just browse all the displays without feeling the overwhelming urge to straighten anything that was out of line or in the wrong spot. Nevermind that I never worked at a Borders, I still would have felt the desire before: 'There are books out of alignment nearby; I must so what I can to remedy this!'


I wanted to splurge on a book I could abuse and dog ear, since the library is all up tight about that, it would seem.  But what to buy?


In thinking about The GGA, it occurred to me that it was a good opportunity to buy some guilty pleasure genre fiction.  What was the biggest departure from something I would normally choose?  I very briefly entertained the idea of buying a romance novel.  But this project is supposed to be fun, not torturous.  Nix that.


Then I thought of sci-fi or fantasy, an option I've actually considered once before, in the very early days of the project, but I decided I'm still not quite ready for that.


Perfect solution: mystery.  I used to admit to being (internally at least, and outwardly to some) something of a literature snob.  Anyone who studied literature as a major will tell you it's nearly sacrilegious (why is that word spelled like that?  The "i" and the "e" seem backward) to admit to reading, and god forbid enjoying, any genre fiction.  Mystery, sci-fi, and especially romance were for the lower-minded species of readers.  In my growing and expanding, however, I've come to realize that this attitude was simple prejudice, judgement, and close-mindedness.  While I might not be drawn to choose books in any of these genres, I had absolutely no grounds on which to snub them, especially since I'd never even read books in any of these genres! (Unless you count the Nancy Drew mysteries I read as a little girl).


So it was I ended up in the mystery aisle.


Today's New Activity: Mystery Genre Purchase


Once in the aisle I had a new decision to make.  Which of the mystery superstar authors would I choose?


First I thought the good thing to do would be to choose the very last thing I would have typically gone for.  First on that list would probably be one of the books in the ever-expanding mystery + cats or mystery + food sub-categories.  But I'm not there yet.  Then there was the author J.D. Robb, who is immensely popular because he's really the romance novelist Nora Roberts disguised as "J.D. Robb"--a la George Eliot, only not at ALL like that, since it tells you right on the book cover that J.D. Robb is really Nora Roberts.  Seriously, what is the point?  Anyway, I wasn't burning to try that option either.


In the end, Steig Larsson caught my attention.

I feel like choosing The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is cheating in a way, if the goal was to explore genre fiction.  The book was critically acclaimed in a way that books shelved in these aisles typically are not.  But hey, we're taking baby steps here.  Next time I may just be willing to pick up one of Janet Evanovich's numerical series or Sue Grafton's alphabetical one.  I doubt it, but you never know.


Oh, and so far I've only read the prologue to my new book, but I can tell it's gonna be a page-turner.  And though page-turners aren't typically my thing, I am excited about this guilty pleasure, and maybe not even all that guilty.

The GGA Project -- Day #72 "Bog Saunter"

When I got out of work midday today, I was awestruck by how gorgeous the weather was, and I remembered my friend Kenneth had told me he and his girlfriend Jessica were going hiking with a group of others today.  I quick texted to see if they'd gone, and when he said they weren't out the door yet, I hurried home to collect the monkey and tag along for

Today's New Activity: Hiking (with Baby!) at Baylands Park

To call this outing a hike is something of an exaggeration.  It was pretty much a flat dirt trail around the edge of the bay in Palto Alto (which I'm calling a bog, just because all the growth at the edge of the water gave it a very bog-ey feel).  But it was beautiful...kind of eerie beautiful.

Here is Monkey during one of the brief periods when he was down to walk.  At first I think he was just confused by the totally new kind of surroundings.  Then, once he was okay to be set down, he was distracted by the little planes that kept taking off from a nearby airport and flying overhead.

I'm pretty sure this was the first time he's actually taken notice of an airplane, and it was fun to see his initial enthrallment.  He was waving and saying "bye bye" to each of them as they flew away in the beginning.  Then I think he realized they were just going to keep coming and he was over the need to communicate with every last one.

After a little while, and after his initial shyness wore off, he felt comfortable holding Jess's hand and walking with her.

And soon after that they were like new best friends, sharing sunglasses and everything!

I'm awed by people who are just naturally comfortable with kids.  I've always liked kids, but I wasn't one to reach out for and hold babies unless I'd already known them for some time.  I always liked interacting with older kids, like 3rd grade and up.  At that point you can talk to them just like normal, and you don't really have to deal with all their anxieties about separation and strangers, and you certainly don't have to deal with their poop.

Jessica was a natural, though, and it was clear the baby was comfortable with her.  I love when that happens.  While of course I don't want him to be comfortable with everybody he encounters (scary!), it does make me proud and relieved when he will happily go into the arms of a friend of mine.  It's nice to know he feels safe and secure enough to get some distance from me and experience another person's care.  Other people will always show him something I wouldn't think to show him, or make him laugh in a new way.  Jessica was down to carry him a full third of the time we were out.  I consider that a bona fide blessing.  :)  And he practically fell asleep on her shoulder by the end of the outing.

As we strolled along, there were some odd objects to take in and brainstorm on the possible purposes of

but other than that it was a pretty mellow and unassuming trail, which freed up the baby's attention to give to the squirrels or badgers or whatever they were running around, the little songbirds, and the seagulls headed to the nearby dump (odd place for a dump, if you ask me).  I'd say monkey did pretty well his first time hiking; I'm looking forward to finding more new hiking spots I can introduce to both of us.

And I just have to mention again how lucky I feel to be living in an area where there is so much natural beauty to behold, and so many months of good, outdoors-friendly weather in which to enjoy it.  May I never, ever take it for granted!