Giving back to the community

http://www.m4kdc.org/

I think it was my friend Bill who pointed out that you all(the guys I am friends with, and probably every single male every) have mustache fetishes. That is all well and good, but it seems as though mustaches can really have a sinister side.

Take for example this charity I found today.

It seems a little off that something like a charity for sick children, could so simply be turned into a former-Representative Foley's wet dream, by inserting the word "rides". Do it, tell me about it and I will promise to sponsor you.

Under the impression

I dont know about you, but I was under the impression that doctors, dentists and anyone else in the medical field for that matter are supposed to call you to confirm an appointment, and not the other way around. Maybe I am just used to my parents nice doctors growing up, but I know there were always messages on the answering machine, from the offices. In voices that pleasantly sound like they have never been outside, "Hi Laura, this is Dr. Talati's office calling just reminding you that you have your yearly std test tomorrow at 3:00pm." It was so nice, but now I am on my own shitty dental plan, where dentists who are late for your appointment call you and tell you sorry I was late, but I wasnt even sure we were having this appointment because you didnt confirm. Way to ruin my morning Dr. Khozien. I am mostly pissed bc I thought she was a good dentist, thorough and firm, she really made me floss. This could be worse that a break-up with my fake boyfriend, maybe worse because she even sent me a christmas card this year, which is weird because I think she is muslim, and I totally look jewish.

Under the impression

I dont know about you, but I was under the impression that doctors, dentists and anyone else in the medical field for that matter are supposed to call you to confirm an appointment, and not the other way around. Maybe I am just used to my parents nice doctors growing up, but I know there were always messages on the answering machine, from the offices. In voices that pleasantly sound like they have never been outside, "Hi Laura, this is Dr. Talati's office calling just reminding you that you have your yearly std test tomorrow at 3:00pm." It was so nice, but now I am on my own shitty dental plan, where dentists who are late for your appointment call you and tell you sorry I was late, but I wasnt even sure we were having this appointment because you didnt confirm. Way to ruin my morning Dr. Khozien. I am mostly pissed bc I thought she was a good dentist, thorough and firm, she really made me floss. This could be worse that a break-up with my fake boyfriend, maybe worse because she even sent me a christmas card this year, which is weird because I think she is muslim, and I totally look jewish.

meant to be published on this one

view brunch link to the side

WTF

Fucking DCist. In terms of thier food reviews, more like VAssholiolio-ist.Raised in MD, I have a strong abiding hatred of all things VA.Therefore, the fact that the DCist's food people continually review restaurants in VA, where I dare not ventrue, pisses me off.
What am I going to do? Hop on the red line and change trains just to get to brunch? Please. Granted the ride home wouldn't be so bad cause I'd be drunk, but Pleazzze.
I understand Ruthie B. has been and dinned there against my wishes and advisement and she has suffered for it.
Now DCist has gone and done brunch in VA. VA is not DC. Not even close. Its miles and miles and many republicans away.
I promise, nay I vow that Ruthie B. and I will step up the reporting skillz. We will work hard to bring you unedited (and i mean unedited, can we have a volunteer to edit our pieces?) critiques of our experiences brunching and munching around DC*, not V-Fucking-A.
We will spend our hard earned dollars, suffering through or enjoying our eggs benedicts, huevos ranchers, bloody marys, mimosas, home fries, hamburgers, and crappy coffee, cause when we started this blog we had a dream.
A dream to hit virtually every brunch spot in DC that passed its health inspections, as well as some that didn't. A dream to bring you pictures and recipies, possibly even interviews with staff and owners. And damnit i'm not going to let this dream fizzle so easily.

Oh Shit Shit

Dcist pointed out to me that a new restuarant is opening up in my neighborhood. It's call LIA'S and is owned by Chef Geoff. And guess what... they serve brunch baby!
To bad I am going to be out of town this weekend at a sunny beach on the golf coast, but I deffinately plan on hitting that up as soon as possible.
Literally, I'm getting goose bumps.

When Brunch gets Bloody

Today is Tweaks' birthday. Happy Birthday Tweaks. This past weekend she let us all celebrate her cumpleanos with her. It was a bloody good time. I mean literally. We had some super-spicy homemade bloody-marys and Tweaks managed to bite lots of people on the neck, but not me.

Waking up Hungover to Fuck

I find it truly amazing that I can force my eyes open on a SATURDAY morning at 8am after drinking till 2:30am the night before and falling asleep at 3am. What force on this earth would pry me from my bed you ask? A fire? An earth quake? Zombies (which are a very real and reoccuring fear of mine)?
Nay. My passion for brunch and more importantly my love of cooking and need to impress my friends is what. I can't even get my sorry ass out of bed to do a twenty minute run before work these days, but i seem more than willing to wake up half drunk and play with fire (and a little bit of vomit.)
I began the morning by stumbling into the kitchen without pants on to start the coffee and pop open a club soda. Yes, club soda is my new love. It has replaced my old love so thouroughly I can't even remember what my old love was.
(PS- just looked back at the title. please dont get the wrong idea, i wasn't waking up in order to fuck hungover-ly, i consider "hungover to fuck" to be an adjective in and of itself. If I ever get laid, at this point, I am faily sure it's a sign of the coming apocalypse. Read my blog daily for updates/ warnings)
Right, huh, ok. Making coffee drinking club soda I sit down and look around and decide to come up with a POA (plan of attack.) Upon hearing stirring noises upstairs I decide part one is to put some pants on.
Part two is then to make the frittata, or at least prep for it.
Part three is to watch tv for thirty minutes and collect myself.
Part four is to put on my "the rock" tee shirt and jeans and run to the store for a few more things i forgot. "The Rock" Tee-shirt is far and away the best item of clothing anyone will ever own. I bought it for my friend who somehow earned the name "the rock" senior year of college. Well just among me, her, and my boyfriend at the time. I'm not really sure how it came about, but it was in reference to the wrestler/actor/singer? So shopping one day in a thirft store in edinburgh, I happen across this tee shirt. It's black with lots of graphics on it inclulding a picture of the man, the legend, the god, himself. I bought it and planned to give it to her, but now i just wear it around myself cause its too cool. I cut it up a bit so i look like a midwestern hard core rocker from the early ninties (wayne's world stylee.)
Part five is to return from the store to let robyn in, who is in charge of decorations, and continue with the cooking.
Part six is to change into my sailor outfit and then flip out about weather or not to lay the food on the table now or later.
Part seven is to yell suprise and then eat drink and be merry. Member Dave Mathews had that song and like everyone's senior yeark book quote was tha lyric from it, along the lines of "eat, drink, and be merry we will," or something like that?
Part eight is to do a half asses job cleaning and then start playing beer die.
Part nine is to get in a can fight.
Part ten is to play soccer in the rain.
Part eleven is to yell "dance party" whenever people are walking by the house and we all stand along the porch and start dancing furiously.
Part twelve is desperately wanting to pass out, but realizing you have an amazing show to go to that night.
Part thirteen is convincing birthday girl Maura and her boy J-rod to first go to dinner on U st. at sala thai and then to the show with you.
Part fourteen is rocking out to a majorly good show.
Part fifteen is getting a cab home. While I was in the cab I looked down at my phone and saw metro was still open. I also noticed he was going a round baout way to get to my pad and would probably over charge me. At this point I pretended to answer my phone which was on vibrate in my hand. Here's how the convo went:
Me in back seat of cab looking out window speaking into phone: "Hey"
Silence
"In a cab headed home."
Silence
"Your where?"
Silence
"Your where? I can't hear you."
Silcence, but putting finger over other ear so as to block out "other noise"
"What's the address?"
Silence
"Cool, yeah I'll be there."
Leaning forward to cab driver. "actually sir, can you just drop me off at Woodley park? I'm meeting some friends right around there." I proceed to pay the man $8 and hop out of the cab, thinking, "i'm super clever.."
I take the metro home and eat the left over frittata.

A Frittata, Some Smoked Salmon, and Mimosas

Lovely and devoted friends that we are, Ruthie B. and I decided to throw a surprise brunch for a dear friend of ours this past Saturday. Ruthie B. was in charge of the cake and I the menu.
Here is my experience:
I was working out at the gym, scanning a recent Bon Appetite (one of the best food periodicals out there I would argue, with a website to match http://www.epicurious.com/) when I saw a recipe for a Prosciutto, Shitake, Fontina Frittata. I had originally planned on making a quiche, but this recipe made me change my mind. Quiches are tricky and very fattening what with the heavy cream and pastry shell and all. I decided this fritatta would be much more appreciated. I also planned to make a smoked salmon pizza, which entailed pizza topped with lemon dill sour cream and smoked salmon. I would serve all this with biscuits of the Pillsbury variety and fruit salad.
Now I will confess something. I am not a baker. I hate baking in fact, hence I put Ruthie B. in charge of cake. Baking to me is like chemistry, the measurements need to be too exact. I don't have the patience to use measuring utensils, I like to eyeball what I chuck into a recipe and rely on my taste buds to make improvement. As such, I thought I would buy some pre made pizza dough for the occasion. So Friday after work, I am at whole foods looking for some. Impossible. They only had this pre made pizza crust that was herb and cheese flavored. I couldn't imagine this going very well with smoked salmon. I decided to just serve the smoked salmon with diced red onion, capers, french bread, and the lemon dill sour cream.
The frittata was incredibly easy to make and turned out really well. I won't go into detail about the process, you can basically look it up online. If i ever have to be slightly drunk trying to cook brunch again, this is definitely a new "go to" recipe. Everyone seemed impressed by the sour cream, when all it was was a bit of lemon juice, lemon zest, chopped dill, and pepper. None-the-less I was happy to bask in the glory of their compliments. The biscuits got a bit burned but were edible. The fruit salad was store bought and essential as we had the brunch on my front porch and it ended up being one of the hottest days this summer. Nothing like a nice fruit salad to cool you down.
All in all the brunch was a success. For the next one I plan to make huevos rancheros, I just need someone I like to have a birthday and a passion for brunching.