Run, T, Run

I'm bursting with pride about my friend Tierra Jolly's run for School Board in Washington D.C.

She is proof that if you believe in yourself and your convictions long enough and hard enough, you can do the things that you have always said you are going to do.

If you are reading this and you live in Washington D.C., I implore you to find a way to get involved. Tweet at your friends to follow Tierra. Go through your couch cushions and give all extraneous Hamiltons and Jacksons to her campaign. Campaigns are expensive (which is a bogus discussion for another day).

Not sure if you reside/hang out in Ward 8. Here's a Map. Chances are you maybe know someone who crossed the river for a reasonable rent. Tell that person to vote in their special election to help create some change.

There is nothing off the table in terms of helping with this election. Knock on doors, put up posters, wear a Jolly button to the Nats game.  Its rare to know someone who has the opportunity to do great things on such a public and valuable platform. I'm thrilled to support Tierra how I can, and I hope that those slightly geographically closer and financially more well-endowed will do the same.

My Mouth's Most Happiness (part 3) (...Finally)

Sooooo, like, 7 months ago, I had a crazy delicious meal and started writing about it (check out the first couple courses, and then the middle couple of courses. Annnnd finally, I got my act together to finish it tonight. Enjoy the third installment of our Alinea adventures.

After all the real food - it was dessert time.

They brought out Winter. Like the seaweed log before it, this was basically some designer's wet dream, with 4 bites of food on it. In this case - another log, with pine needles, and rocks that had been cooled to -80 degrees and adorned with peppermint flavored snow. Resting on top of the snow were bites of different fruits (including persimmon) and a nutmeg marshmallow.

Then there was the deconstructed hot chocolate, that was water but of course, it was actually hot chocolate. Okay, Harry Potter, you win.

The snow was realistically cold and fantastically delicious. I scraped it off the rocks with a fork until Boyfriend said that, really, that was quiet enough.

The penultimate course was one of the ones that I wish had been a surprise for me (but was happy was a surprise for Boyfriend). It was a balloon, full of helium, made of something akin to Apple Fruit by the Foot (but, you know, a billion times more delicious and flavorful). Dangling off the end was a silver implement that we were instructed to use however we wanted - with the end result being eating the apple balloon.

I went the direct route and stabbed the balloon right through with the silver tool. This left me very, very sticky, but satisfied.

Boyfriend managed to find a way to eat it slowly enough that he could suck out minimal amounts of helium (but enough to make his voice high pitched) and keep the balloon afloat as he ate it. He's an engineer, people.

The final course was easily the most amazing thing that happened throughout the entire meal, and will continue, probably until the end of my life, to be the best show I've ever seen. I don't know how they managed to keep this course a surprise - but they did and holy.crapballs. was it worth it.

One of the chefs came out and asked about our meal. I was in such a place of pure bliss already, I could barely talk to him. He put a dark chocolate fishbowl on the table and filled it with liquid nitrogen (poured out of a dainty white china pitcher). And then as he chatted with us, he started using various sauces (butternut squash, lingonberry and stout) to draw designs on our table.

I know that I should not be impressed, as plating and presentation is a fairly basic component of culinary arts, but the designs were so beautiful and smelled so amazing. It was art more than food. Boyfriend's birthday present was not so much the meal, but me restraining myself from taking a picture of the final design.

The beauty was either heightened, or short lived, depending on your opinion - when the chef picked up the chocolate fishbowl and unceremoniously dropped it back on the table where it broke open, full of treats like the fanciest pinata this side of Mexico.

The liquid nitrogen had frozen bits of cotton candy, toffee, sweet potato and magic in the fish-bowl-pinata-of-delicious. We were handed spoons and left to enjoy as much of this amazing last course as we could.

If you know me, you know I don't leave food on my plate (or...table? as the case maybe). I think about the starving kids in Africa, the fact that I am paying for this, my Italian grandmother who was always telling me to eat more, my friends who use leaving food as a weird dieting mind game that I will have no part of, and the fact that I may never have this chance again, and I eat until its gone.

So I ate as much as I could fit inside me. There have only been one or two times where I have truly eaten to the point of near stomach explosion (our feast in the Italian countryside comes to mind). And even when it got to the point where I could literally feel my stomach stretching uncomfortably inside my beautiful Jason Wu dress, I kept eating the delicious chocolate scooped up with amazing sauce and real (real!) magnolia petals.

I don't think I would have stopped without Boyfriend telling me I was under no circumstances allowed to throw up in the cab ride home. I would have sat in that restaurant for hours letting the waves of hedonism wash over me if given the chance.

But eventually, sadly, it had to end. They brought the check and cleaned up the end of the beautiful chocolate mess. While we waited for a cab, we got to sneak a peak inside the kitchen which was surprisingly normal looking (I am not sure why I assumed that they would be like, cooking with flame throwers and wearing those crazy super magnifying glasses - I have a very active imagination).

We got in our cab, and went home - and like any vacation, there was that crushing realization that we were very much back in the real world, where you eat on plates with regular forks and all of the food is just normal and boring.

Boyfriend bought me my own Molecular Gastronomy At-Home Kit which I am waiting for a really special occasion to play with. The next time I eat crazy stuff, it'll probably be of my own making.

Do I recommend Alinea? Absolutely. If you el-oh-vee-ee LOVE food and are not going to be scared off by a price tag akin to a new computer, then absolutely. Do it. Or find some other amazing restaurant and eat there (and then tell me about it). The thing about living is that you should really enjoy it as much as possible.

4 Summers Later

Four summers ago, I was 23. And Barack Obama and all his friends, let me live out my wildest dreams.

I got to go to the Democratic National Convention and not just as a guest, but as a photographer - a career I had almost not even dared to dream about because it seemed so out of reach. It was one of the most exhausting, inspiring, eye-opening, amazing 4 days of my life.

Childishly, it let me, if just for a few days, believe in my dreams. I got to believe that I really could DO anything. And I realized that that was the theme of 2008 election for Barack Obama supporters. Hope. Change. Dreams.

Its been four years and I have been watching this year's DNC and I am flooded with both nostalgia - and a solid reality check.

This summer, the summer of 27 - has been much more bleak. I am not crushing hard on a boy I barely know. I am not enjoying the hedonistic life of a part time job and a city full of adventure. And I am most certainly not living out any dreams.

This is a summer of cold, hard reality. And watching this convention has made me realize that the election is mirroring that again this year. Its not about far-fetched dreams anymore. Its about keeping things real.

And if I have to live in this country for the next four years, I want Barack Obama's reality. The reality that will let my friends marry whomever the hell they want, that will maybe raise my taxes - but will raise everyone else's too, and the reality that will not only make health care accessible, but let me make all the decisions about my own body - no matter what.

I'm all grown up at 27 - I am willing to put my dreams aside because I know things are busted right now. But as I sit listening to these speeches - I am determined to live in the reality that the President has offered us. With any luck - we'll get back to the dreams soon.

the wonder friends

Today has kind of been the BIGGEST day for many, many reasons.

This blog is only going to talk about two of them.

Specifically these two.

They aren't friends anymore. But in honor of the fact that they are both 30! YEARS! OLD! on this Monday, they get a joint post. Sorry ladies, its Monday night, and I am drunk on red wine and tuna melts, I only have one blog post in me.

Once upon a time, I was 19 and I had no idea what was going on. I grew up in a small town where everyone knew who I had been since the age of 6. I couldn't shake off 3rd grade memories no matter how hard I tried to redefine myself. And then I moved to New York, where I could have redefined myself if anyone had given a shit. Which, surprise, surprise, no one really did.

And then! I got to move to a small little cesspool of insanity (known as summer stock theater) where no one knew my business, and I got to be whichever version of myself I wanted to be. I managed to spin the wheel and land on a version of myself that seemed to attract some really great people.

And thus began, 8 years ago, the silliest summer of my life. I try not to dwell too long on the past, but the summer of 2004 will always be ingrained as the best, worst summer of all time. As I reminisced about it today:

"...we made some really astoundingly bad choices. And we only ever had enough money for booze. And we kissed boys who made us cry. And we had the literal definition of dead-end jobs. And we ate week-old crabs. And yet we were still the happiest of girls..."

And these two amazing women, who have pretty much knocked life out of the ball park in the past 8 years in their own ways, were the two people who bought my new personality, hook, line and sinker and wanted to keep me around - even after the dream summer ended, and I went back to my real life, 15 pounds heavier and so much more aware of the kind of person I wanted to be as a twenty-something.

These girls taught me that its acceptable to do things just for the story. To write it all down. To get your heart temporarily broken for a night of fun. To play the "let me tell you about yourself" game. They taught me that people will love you even when you pour candle wax on their chests. And almost drive their cars into a clothes line. That its okay to be made fun of when you deserve it. And its okay to cry when it all gets to be too much.

When I first met these two girls, they were fresh-faced college graduates and I idolized them. I could not believe that these two people who seemed so much cooler and more grown-up than me wanted to be my friend. And even though I have never had an iota of true self-confidence, they made me feel like I was an awesome, hilarious person. They are both also awesome and hilarious.

So thank you. Thank you for 8 amazing years of self-discovery and debauchery.  Happy 30th Birthday!

On Why.

I have been thinking a lot about Barack Obama's interview today and it took a few hours before I realized why it matters as much as it does to me.

It matters for all the obvious reasons (like how it directly affects people that I love) but there is another one -

Its a way to start changing the minds of uninformed kids who I want to grow up to be awesome.

I know a bunch of really great kids who are new to this country. And through the fault of no one they have become very involved with various churches in the city. It makes sense - you come to a brand new country and you're going to look for support and guidance wherever you can and churches are good at being there.

But some churches come with Ideas.

And it seems that the kids I know with seem to go to churches who have taught them that being gay is wrong. When I ask them why they think being gay is wrong they tell me that is what the bible said. When I ask for another reason, they seem to think that the bible one is pretty much all they need (isn't that always the way with biblical reasons for anything?).

And because I am just me, and I am not a Church that is backed up by Parents and a Community (well, I come with a community, but it is smaller and, for understandable reasons, less valued) I felt powerless to try to argue with this biblical reasoning that everyone was so confident in believing.

Meekly, I could just say I hope they treat everyone respectfully no matter who they love. And they came back with, "but its wrong." And I bit my tongue - because they're seven and twelve and it felt like a battle I wasn't ready to have and lose.

But NOW?! Now its not just me fighting this battle alone. It's me and my good friend, Barack Obama - someone that all of these kids worship for looking like them and having stories that sound kind of like their own. In their eyes he does no wrong.

There are so many losing battles in the world, in politics and in my own little world of trying to help make things better wherever I can - and finally I feel like there is one I might be able to win.

***And I know that he is being kind of wishy-washy by saying that its the states' right to decide, but lets be real - the kids I know in particular probably would actually care more about his personal opinions than any sort of laws he passed.

My Mouth's Most Happiness (part 2)

So, where did we leave off?

Oh yes - caponata. Or as I like to call it, the eggplant game changer (go read about courses 1 - 9. It's cool, I'll wait).

After the thing most resembling an entree came and went (with all of it polished off and the consideration of stowing the fish head in my purse for Miss Hazel) we came to the physical challenge part of the meal.

We were given a wax cup full of liquid with a little metal spear holding some unidentified squares dangling above it. At the word "go" we had to pull the spear very carefully out, depositing the squares into the liquid. We had to be very careful to this in a timely, yet gentle fashion while under the very judgmental eye of one of our waiters. Naturally, all this pressure got to me, and I nearly failed, but I managed to get my squares into my liquid and shoot it back with a quickness.

It was hot and cold at the exact same time while also managing to be simple and delicious. So many adjectives. It is called "Hot Potato, Cold Potato" which is pretty much exactly what it was. According to my limited internet research this has been on the menu for a really long time, which makes sense. It really encompasses everything Alinea is about. Its totally off the wall, requires tableware you cannot find at Sur La Table, and is very delicious.

The next course comes with a pillow full of juniper air, which I am seriously considering purchasing for my own at-home use. I forget how amazing juniper smells until they are putting a pillow of it in front of me, with a plate of mushrooms on top.

If you know me, you know I do not eat mushrooms. The texture of mushrooms makes my skin crawl. Just thinking about the way they feel in my mouth gives me a fit of the shivers. But I had a funny feeling this was going to happen, and I told myself long before we even got to the restaurant that I was going to eat everything put in front of me.

So I ate the mushrooms and once I got over the mushroom-y-ness, all of the other flavors were amazing enough to keep the texture-based goosebumps at a minimum.

Pillow of juniper deflated, we got to make our own venison goulash roll-ups in cabbage leaves. I was not anticipating spending all of the dollars and then having to eat with my hands, but I went with it. I know there is a part of me that is country girl (its smaller than the part that is Italian but it exists), and this country girl loves her game meat.  Mmm, venison. I probably will never be able to have actual goulash without being severely disappointed.

Difference between Alinea and McDonalds? At Alinea you get a warm towels after you eat with your hands.

Towels removed it was time for an explosion (Fun Fact, the word explosion will always makes me think of the Madhouse Comedy Explosion and Summer 2004, good, drunken times).  The black truffle explosion was a single ravioli served on a spoon and with a warning to eat it all in one bite.

Boyfriend summed it up best with, "Wow, I think I need a cigarette." They do mess around with hyperbole at Alinea, just black truffle oil.

For most of the meal, things seemed to be how they were just because... but the next course was apparently based on Miro's Still Life with Old Shoe.

Image (via)

What does a course based on this look like?

Different sized utensils, all with bites of food on them. While most of the other courses came with strict instructions, this one was the "there are no rules" course. All bites were eaten in whichever order we preferred. Of course, I have no idea what was on most of them except deliciousness. I wish I could be more specific. There was for sure a spoonful of jam, and a spoon with a bit of vinegar and oil on it, a bite of foie gras, some crunchy business and a fork of squab.

Having had utensils to eat with for 2 courses in a row, it was time to go back to eating with our hands and/or a smouldering cinnamon stick.

Most of the things that I ate during this meal I would never dream of recreating, but at the end of the smouldering cinnamon stick was a ball of brie cheese, caramelized onions and anjou pear with a crispy outside. While I will probably leave the fire hazard out of it, the rest of this dish sounds totally doable (and we all know how I feel about brie).

After I explained to Boyfriend that that cinnamon stick was his birthday candle, they brought out another torture-looking device. This one with five long, thin metal fingers sticking out of a solid base. On the end of each finger was a bite no larger than the size of this O (okay, maybe a little bit, but not much bigger. Maybe this O). Each bite was a different type of Hawaiian ginger, garnished with completely different flavors.

This is the moment where Rachel learns the lesson that it is not the size of the food but the size of the flavor that makes all the different. Each bite packed a wallop that had me reaching for my sparkling water. One of the pieces of ginger had a single cell of grapefruit on it. A single cell! These were some of the most flavorful things we ate all night. Ginger means business, everyone.


After letting ginger blow our minds a little bit, we got geared up for dessert which I am saving for another blog because it deserves at least this much description if not more.

My Mouth's Most Happiness (part 1)

Sometimes, I write blogs for me, you guys. You can read them and everything, but I just need to remember things and so I write them down on the internet. This is one of those times. I need to remember everything about my meal at Alinea and writing it all down will help me (although, I cannot imagine ever forgetting it, but we all get old sometimes).

Please feel free to read the next two blogs and live vicariously through me (that happens so rarely I am kind of excited for the chance of it).

However.

If you think that you might ever eat at Alinea (especially if that could be happening sooner rather than later), I think I would actually caution against reading this (at least until after you've gone and then we can compare stories).

One of the best parts of the meal (and there were quite a few best parts) was the surprise element of everything. There was no menu, no warning about what was going to happen next. I was even a little bit bummed that from my seat I could see other people's tables, so some of the surprises were ruined for me. Boyfriend's seat meant that he couldn't see anything before it arrived on our table and his glee from some of the dishes made me a little envious.

So, just...think before you read. If you don't think that you're going to get to Alinea in the next six months or so, than please - feel free to read away. This experience totally made my life.

I will start with the fact that this is the most I have ever spent on anything that wasn't a vacation and wasn't an actual, tangible thing. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I think of it as a little 3-hour vacation. Probably the most expensive one I will ever take on a dollar-per-minute basis, but still worth it. I celebrate the fact that I currently live a life, where, with a bit of savings, an adventure like this is financially feasible for me. Can I do it every month? Nope. But once a year to celebrate something as awesome as Boyfriend's golden birthday? Sure.

So we get to Alinea. And it has a crazy, magic door that automatically opens as you get near it (its basically a grocery store door that is solid metal, which makes it infinitely cooler and more future-y looking).

Once you're there, its basically like a very well decorated town house with an enormous kitchen full of people, but then you go upstairs and its just a pretty, minimalist house, for antisocial people who don't want to talk to or eat with others.

And then they ask if you want wine. And you can say no. Because I cannot imagine the food would be that enhanced with wine. Boyfriend and I both just got single glasses which we managed to sip on throughout the total meal and it was totally satisfying as a between-course amuse-bouche (and way, way, way less cheaper. I am made of money, but not, like, that much money).

(this is going to be the longest two blogs ever. With no pictures. Sorry guys, I am trashy, but not trashy enough to take food pictures).

So then the first course comes and it looks just like regular food.

Its Char roe with carrot, coconut and curry. I was surprised by how normal it was. It was just food on a plate. It was delicious, with salty and sweet and lots of flavors but for a moment, my heart sank. I was expecting madness and here was just some food. But you don't put on your A game during warm-ups. Duh.

Then. Drift wood logs covered in seaweed were placed on the table in front of us and I was like, "Hell. Yes. We are not in Kansas anymore."

On this log with seaweed there were 4 shells. And no silverware. Eat with your shells everyone.

The Oyster Shell - which had an oyster leaf in it. This was a leaf that had the awesome saltiness of an oyster without the slimy-eyeball-sliding-down-your-throat sensation of an oyster. aka - amazing.

King Crab - with passion fruit, heart of palm and allspice. I am not going to say the meal peaked at this moment, but oh my crab meat. I put my finger in that shell and got out all the crab meat. Classy? Not me. There is crab on the table. I will have visions of this particular dish dancing in my head for the rest of time.

Mussel - I will now always be disappointed in mussels for the rest of my life. They are ruined. Unless everyone else starts serving them with saffron, chorizo and oregano.

Razor Clam - The sauce of this one (made with shiso, soy and daikon) made me lick the razor clam shell. I could have cut my tongue off. It would have been worth it.

After they removed our logs they put down a fancy device that used a Bunsen burner to make soup in a very science-y way where the water boiled and defied gravity then soaked up flavors of lots of yummy veggies and then came back down. This was a little side show happening while we got our next course.

A long, thin metal shish kabob stick stuck vertically into a metal paper weight was put down in front of us. This was the "no-hands" portion of the meal. At the end of that stick was some squid and woolly pig with a little orange and fennel all put together in something you could eat in one bite, but still had some serious squid tentacles happening. It was salty and strange but so delicious and now I kind of want all my food to be served in a way that I don't need to use my hands. Why? Because.

Our 7th grade science class soup was done, and so it was poured over a piece of scallop that looked (and inexplicably tasted like) tofu. But also tasted like scallop? Let's take the two funnest food-words to say and make a dish that puts them in the exact same bite. And lets pour some crazy delicious broth over it. Ohhh. Kay. And just for funsies, lets make teeny-tiny veggies garnishes in the bowl too. Like a carrot shaving curlicue the size of pencil shaving. Yep. Science Soup. Mind fuck scallop. Doll house veggies.

This whole time there has been a block of ice the size of a six-pack on the table with some red liquid suspended in it. At this point in the meal, they hand us some glass straws and tell us to go head and drink the red liquid. It is not some sort of animal blood, as I was slightly fearful of, but some beet juice with hibiscus and black licorice. If I liked beets, it would have been delicious. But I don't like beets enough to make up for the fact that I was terrified that I was going to have to consume blood.

The ice cube is taken away and then the closest thing to an entree is put down in front of us.

A Scup (which is a Sicilian fish), some chick pea fritters (which probably aren't Sicilian but are delicious), and caponata (which is the best goddamned thing that has ever happened to me, also Sicilian). The fish and the fritters were great but the caponata was so perfect. Like the sugo at The Girl and the Goat, it spoke to a part of me that I don't even know existed. The deep, soulful Italian part. When it was over, I was looking longingly at my plate and Boyfriend said, "Wow. You loved that stuff. You have never looked at me like that." I am so excited to try to make it. It probably won't be as good as it was last night, but even if it is 1/10th as good, I will be so happy. Forever.

And with that, I leave you to guess at what you think the next 10 courses might have in store.

Everyone Love.

Same-sex marriage bill approved by Maryland Senate

I could not be more proud of my home state right now.  While I am frustrated that not all states allow people who love each other and want to be together forever announce it proudly with some flowers, rings and good food - knowing that the good people of Maryland (or at least their elected officials) think that it is A-OK has me jubilant.

My thoughts on marriage as an institution are for another day, but today I feel like a proud Mama watching my little state make all the right choices (we will ignore the fail bombs my particular county is dropping for the time being).

Thank you Maryland for being a great place to grow up. Right now, I am incredibly proud to call you "where I am from."  The sprinkles on this sweet, sweet news is the editorial the Frederick News Post came out with in support of this bill.  Frederick is a backwater of conservative assbaggery (as proven by the link above) and coming out in support of this bill lost the FNP some of their subscribers. But they did it anyway. And I love it.

I am also incredibly happy that I surround myself with loved ones who agree with me on this particular topic (as I am seeing by the responses to my facebook post on this matter). I am willing to debate many things, but on the topic of Love, there is my way, or the way of people who are wrong and who want others to be just as miserable as they are.

Go Maryland. Two points for love. And two points for the crabcakes I had last weekend. You win again. You always do.

edited to add - Apparently I have already written about marriage. Right here!  I still feel exactly the same about it (and babies) as when I wrote this post, if you are interested. But I still think everyone should be able to do it if they want to.

Princess Organizer

This past weekend I got to spend some quality time in Maryland. It was a very under the radar trip, without any sort of extensive planning or promise of social engagements - which was exactly what I needed.

I still got to eat amazing food and see some of my favorite people AND I got to do amazing, practical things - like organize Mom's wrapping paper closet.

I spent most of my life being a horrible slob and then I grew up, had a roommate who was the Felix to my Oscar, and realized how much less likely I was to break/lose things if I kept them tidy.

So now, I get a huuuuge rush out of cleaning and organizing. It helps to have it not be my own things and to have it be things with little sentimental value, but either way - it is immensely satisfying and I wish I could do it professionally.

Anyway - we started with this.

This is even after a whole bunch of the stuff fell out as I was trying to get enough light for the picture. I started by taking everything out, there is really no point in organizing if you are only going to do it half way.

This is maybe 3/4 of the stuff. The rest is on the floor and on the chairs.

Then I organized like with like. All the boxes together, all the Christmas bags in one pile and the "various other holidays" in another.

A dining room table is a perfect place to do this because you have the added benefit of having chairs to put your piles on. If a pile cannot fit on a chair, it is too big and needs to be reevaluated.

Throw things away. Anything that was kind of broken or dirty and I didn't think I would want to present to someone as the wrapping for their gift automatically went in the trash. I probably threw away at least as much as I kept, if not more.

And then think critically about how you are going to use things. My mother mostly wraps presents at Christmas, so those things are the most prominently featured (the bag on the right and the paper at the top of the pile). Everything is easily accessible, the boxes are full of other boxes - the goal is to not have to take out more than one thing to get to what you need.

The only caveat to my brilliant plan is the shipping supplies (big boxes, peanuts, etc) are behind all of this. I wish there had been a way to make them more accessible but since they are always used in conjunction with everything else, it seems like it won't be too tedious. We'll have to see how she does.

Anyway, please let me come organize your house. You will have to pay me some money, but it turns out that, for now, I work for brunch and peanut butter M&M's.

off today.

I spent most of the day in my pajamas today and it was glorious. I so desperately needed it. I was tired and stressed in every inch of my skin. I spent most of yesterday on the verge of tears - not because anything particular that had happened but just because I had not had any real minutes of just sittingandbeing in weeks and weeks.

I am trying not to complain because my life is quite nice but there is just too much of it sometimes.

So I needed a day off. And now that I have had it, naturally, I am dreading a return to real life. But I will. And I just need a reminder that a day of quiet and solitude can be extremely therapeutic.

More goats.

Thoughts on Girl and the Goat (round two):

Yes to goat empanadas (but also still yes to goat belly & lobster).  Meh to cod cheeks.

When you order more than 2 plates per person, the last plate or two can be overwhelming.  Maybe only 2 plates per person, no matter how excited you are.

Dessert is an epic gamble. Go for it. You may discovered that foie gras infused marshmallow fluff is one of the best things ever. Ever.

Oh pig face, you are still so salty and perfect.

I, apparently cannot eat escargot and fennel combined.  This is a devastating discovery but one that only took one bit to figure out.

I can eat shiitake mushroom, which is exciting.  Especially when they are paired with butternut squash in a fennel potato rice crepe.

Pan fried shishito peppers are the most delicious game of Russian Roulette ever.

If I could marry grilled baby octopus, I would, but I would probably still fool around with ham frittes (which, are actually pomme frittes - something I accept but am still confused by).

Your second experience at the most amazing place on earth (suck it, Disneyworld) will never be as life-changing as your first.  As the second time you do anything it just becomes something real, not like a crazy game of make-believe.  That being said, I would not turn up my nose at a third time (if only because one day I'll work up the nerve to steal a menu).