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Le Bernardin

3 Jun

It’s been months since I last posted, but I did not have much to live for let alone write for.  Recently, Blister, the doctor, recommended that I eliminate all seafood, dairy, gluten, fruit, and nuts from my diet due to my severe allergies.  For weeks, I suffered.  After a recent visit to my allergist, she finally set me free and advised that elimination diets create super allergies.  Yes, Avengers allergies.  Blister the saboteur.  When I informed her of my allergist’s medical opinion, she just laughed and said, “I helped you lose five pounds, didn’t I?”  Blister, the cause of my demise and BDD.

Due to my unreasonable diet, the thought of writing about food killed me.  Now that I can eat again, let’s discuss New York.  Years ago during my freshman year in college, I went to New York to visit some friends.  It was my first trip to New York as an adult, and I was excited.  A bag, a bus ticket, a few girlfriends, and a lot of spontaneity led us to a weekend in New York.  As soon as we arrived, we realized spontaneity was slightly overrated.  There were three 18 year old girls without accommodations in a big, scary city.  In our minds, the nights would be full of so much partying that making reservations of any kind seemed futile.  But once the parties , after parties, and after after parties were over, we were homeless with no where to go.  Luckily, a friend who resided in the NYU dorms, snuck us in to the study rooms where we slept like squatters.  We slept under the desks and used the chairs as camouflage. We lacked blankets, showers, and pajamas, and used our one bag filled with hoochie mama disposable tops as a make-shift pillow.

Fast-forward 13 years.  Still filled with the same excitement and girlfriends in tote, we were on our way to New York City again.  This time, we had hotel reservations at … the Waldorf Astoria.  As we walked to our room, I noticed this.

Ooooooh sheeit.

The foyer.

The living room.

The view from the living room.

The formal dining room.

The kitchen.

The master bedroom.

The second bedroom.

The third bedroom.

As I walked around this palace fit for a Zamunda King, I imagined how many homeless 18 year old girls could sleep in this place.   Like Papi Chula said, “Sisters are doin’ it for themselves.”  And we were.  Not only did we have showers, but we had an unlimited supply of Ferragamo shampoo, conditioner, and soap.  As hard as it was to leave this mansion, we had to go to Le Bernardin for Blister’s birthday dinner especially since a significant deposit was required just to secure the reservation.

Amuse bouche

I’m not usually a fan of sea urchin, but as of late I have grown fond of it. I’m especially fond of it when it’s topped with salty caviar, a wonderful way to wake the taste buds.


For my “Almost Raw” starter, the blend of Nebraska wagyu beef and langoustine topped with a generous layer of caviar was worth the $45 supplemental charge.  The pepper Vodka crème fraîche fills in the chewy bites of tartare for a creamy well-rounded bite.  Instead of layering the tartare on the provided “Ruffles” potato chips, I preferred smothering the delicious blend on the warm bread that regularly circulated throughout the night.

Because Blister and I are geniuses, we ordered different dishes and shared them to try more of the items offered by the silver fox Eric Ripert. She ordered the tuna– layers of thinly pounded yellowfin tuna, foie gras, toasted baguette, chives, and olive oil.

The tuna was a vibrant orange and beautiful to look at, but it was mediocre in taste.  It tasted like tuna and the foie gras had a pasty consistency that did not seduce me like foie gras usually does.  The wagyu kicked the tuna’s ass.

I ordered the langoustine for the “Barely Touched” second course.

The langoustine was perfectly seared and succulent.  I always face a dilemma when it comes to fleshy shellfish.  On one hand, I want to pop the entire morsel of succulent meat into my mouth.  On the other hand, it’s so delicious that it should be slowly savored.  Lucky for me, Mr. Ripert gave me two.  One to slowly savor with small bites and the other to completely devour with my eyes closed.

I also enjoyed Miggy’s Sea Medley.

A beautiful display of the ocean’s gifts in one small little package, but the best part of this national treasure is the smoked bonito broth.  It is the perfect warm temperature touched with a hint of uni and caviar.  When I die, I imagine God welcoming me into the gates of heaven with a cup of this smoked bonito broth.

For my third “Lightly Cooked” dish, I asked the waiter for the fish that the contestants on Top Chef had to replicate seasons ago.  The waiter had no idea what episode I was talking about and brought other waiters for further investigation.  They caucused and agreed it was Mr. Ripert’s striped bass.

The top layer of skin was not crispy enough.  After watching that Top Chef episode, I was expecting a  super crispy and flaky top layer.  The fish itself was perfectly cooked, but I did not like the black-garlic Persian lemon sauce.  It had a sharp bitter flavor that I could not identify but it tasted like star-anise’s cousin.  I would have enjoyed this dish more if the black-garlic sauce was substituted with the smoked bonito broth.  In fact, just pour that broth over everything.

For dessert, I ordered the apple-cinnamon which consisted of cinnamon caramel cream, green apple foam, candied walnut, and red wine caramel.

I took off its hat and found this:

It tasted like a modern apple pie.  The “hat” was crunchy and light, and the sauces swirled to make the most perfect bite of apple pie.  Even though I hate foam, it really worked in this sweet treat.  Ending this three-hour meal with apple pie and a hot cappuccino was the cherry on top.  Of course, I had to instruct the waiter to add the splenda before the cappuccino foam … a first for the barista according to the waiter.  I hate when the splenda gets caught in the foam and not in the cappuccino.

I was so full that I could not even touch the after dinner freebies.

I understand why Le Bernardin is ranked 19th best restaurant in the world.  It is definitely two whole Michelin stars greater and better than Providence and Melisse.  Although I no longer will rank restaurants on vacation due to my tendency to love everything because I’m on vacation, anyone who enjoys seafood should pay the proper deposit, make a reservation, and enjoy.

Blister loved her birthday dinner, company, and conversations of placenta, daddy dicks, and your usual girl talk.

Le Bernardin
The Equitable Building
155 W 51st St
New York, NY



In New York …

29 Mar

Major rager in NYC this weekend.  The “ladies” are gonna jam out with their clams out for Blister’s birthday.  Me, Blister, Mexicunnie, Mimi, Pelota, Maymay, Honeybunny, Miggy, Jardo.

Guess who’s not coming? That’s right, Dr. Hey Hey Hey.  Social suicide, doctor.

Stay tuned for … Le Bernardin.

Maui, Hawaii Part 2

15 Mar

During the difficult times at work, I like to fondly think of my time in Maui. At one point during our trip, Bubby and I had a serious conversation about moving to Hawaii and opening a shrimp truck called Miso’s.  But of course Bubby the buzz kill killed my shrimp truck dreams. At least we should try to visit every year. And every year I’m going to eat this French toast at Kihei Caffe (yes, two “f”s).

Banana macadamia nut French toast

This is the best French toast I have ever had.  Thick slices of crispy sweet bread, thick banana slices, crunchy macadamia nuts, drizzled with maple syrup and the house coconut syrup.

All of the components in one bite made me preach.  “I feel good! I feel good, because I know there’s a God somewhere! There’s a God somewhere! You know there’s a God who sits on high and looks down low! Man cannot make it like this!” Name that movie.

Bubby ordered the pork fried rice loco moco.

The pork fried rice inspired me to make a kimchi pork fried rice loco moco, and everything is better with kimchi. But even without the kimchi, this dish was savory and the perfect salty pairing to my French toast.  Kihei Caffe is a caloric dream come true.  While reveling in our food fantasy, we were suddenly disturbed by a gang of birds.

And the king of the bird gang, Rufio! Ruf-i-oooooooooooooo!

We got the hell out of the crossfire of Rufio’s gang, and went to Charley Young Beach so I could rub my belly in peace.

And at this beach, Poseidon summoned me once again. And in true Hawaiian tradition, I donated my favorite Rayban sunglasses to Poseidon.  Every time I go to Hawaii, Poseidon takes what it wants.  Seven years ago, it was my Juicy Couture red jumper and Ipod.  What was my jumper and Ipod doing in the ocean? Or better yet, why the hell was I wearing Juicy Couture?!  It was seven years ago, and it was a cute ass beach jumper.  Seven years ago, Bubby and I placed our belongings in a locker.  Bubby pinned the locker key to his board shorts while we took surfing lessons.  While Poseidon tossed us around wildly, the locker key unfastened from Bubby’s shorts.  Assuming we lost the key and needed the office to open our locker, we noticed our locker was wide open and empty.  Someone had found our key and stole our possessions, including Bubby’s wallet, our towels, and book.  We walked back to our hotel soaking wet with shame, almost nude, pissed as fuck at Poseidon.  Damn you, Poseidon.  I hope you are rocking the shit outta my shades.

Because there was so much to eat and so little time, we went to Foodland –the best grocery store in the land.  While Kroger (I call every grocery store Kroger) sells rotisserie chickens, Foodland sells spam musubi, ahi poke, and my favorite, spicy raw crab!.

Look at this big ass avocado!

You can also see how the humidity in Hawaii is helping my winter’s eczema, too.

For dinner, Bubby and I went to Mama’s Fish House, a very popular restaurant in Maui.  The restaurant faces the beautiful ocean view and provided a very romantic atmosphere.

Macadamia nut crab cakes

I love crab cakes and cannot wait to go to Baltimore to eat some authentic cakes and to take The Wire tour.  These crab cakes definitely had nice chunks of crab, more crab than breading which is essential for a good CRAB cake.  The tomato relish provided a nice spicy and cool hint of flavor to the meaty cakes.

Opakapaka in lime and coconut milk served in a fresh coconut (Tahitian ceviche)

I asked for extra limes and drowned the shit out of the Hawaiian pink snapper.  I scraped the coconut flesh off the shell and mixed the gelatinous shavings with the ceviche.  This ceviche is making my mouth water as I type these damn words.

Bouillabaisse Mahimahi, lobster, shrimp, scallop and shellfish simmered in a saffron broth, with garlic rouille

Isn’t this picture the most beautiful bowl of underwater treasures?  As you can imagine, the seafood in Hawaii is fresh fo’ sho’.  The scallops were the size of silver dollars and as thick as marshmallows.  There was so much seafood in this dish that every spoonful contained several different types of seafood. My only issue with this dish was that I don’t think the pasta is made from scratch.  If Mama made fresh pasta, this dish would be the best dish of the trip especially since I rationed the garlic bread to last throughout the entire meal.

And to remind myself that I’m on vacation, I make sure the following happen.  I don’t wear makeup.  I must consume a fruity beverage with an umbrella  in it.  And I eat dessert after every meal.  Yes, every meal.  Ergo, ladies and gentlemen I introduce you to Ono Gelato.  The best fuckin’ gelato I have ever had.  Yes, I’ve never had gelato from Italy, but I don’t think I’ll have to.

Coconut is the shit.  But add some strawberry into the swirl, and I was immediately doing my happy dance while wiggling my toes.  Bubby even asked, “Are your toes dancing for gelato?”  Yes, Goddamit. Don’t judge me.  Best. gelato. ever.

Okay, I just gained five pounds writing this shit.

Kihei Caffe
1945 South Kihei Road
Kihei, HI

Mama’s Fish House
799 Poho Place
Paia, HI

Ono Gelato
1280 South Kihei Road
Kihei, HI

Ono Gelato
115 Hana Hwy # D
Paia, HI

Ono Gelato
815 Front Street
Lahaina, HI

We went to two out of the three Ono Gelato locations, and I give 5 slow mothafuckin claps.

I left my heart in San Francisco

13 Mar

Since Blister’s in the Philippines for new year’s eve, we couldn’t go to our annual new year’s trip to Glen Ivy. So this year, Bubby and I went to San Francisco, the city where we fell in love. Our first date was at Palomino in Embarcadero. The food was not particularly good, but I was nervous. We were friends for so long and ate together all the time, but on this January 30th day, 7 years ago, I had butterflies in my stomach. After dinner, he held my hand as we walked along the pier. I was jumping on and off of the stoops, and he held my hand for my “safety” so I wouldn’t fall. It was more like a slicker version of the “yawn and reach” technique at the movie theater. Since that day, we just knew we were meant to be together. No DTR conversations, no “where do we stand?” inquiries, no “it’s complicated” relationship status. We just knew we were together and have never broken up since. Sure, there are times when he’s my greatest enemy and I want to punch him hard in the balls, but most days he’s my best friend.

Going back to San Francisco is always a treat. I love walking down the dirty streets of my old hood, the Tenderloin. Stepping on spit, fecal matter, and used needles never felt so good–kind of like an urban version of Dorothy and her yellow brick road. Although my brick road is stained yellow from urine– both animal and human. I also love going back to San Fran for the food. Always for the food.

Our hotel was located in Fisherman’s Wharf, a tourist trap.  The best part of this tourist trap is Trish’s Mini Donuts.  These fried rings are worth the six-hour drive from LA.  Every time I go to SF, I always try to fight the tourist trap traffic just to get my hands on these fried babies.

They are liberally showered in cinnamon sugar which eventually melts into the super hot fried dough.  I have never ordered a tub of these mini donuts, but one day I will.  Cha-longe!!!

On New Year’s day, we decided to go to Brenda’s, the only Cajun restaurant in the Tenderloin.  As a former Houstonian, I love Cajun food.  We decided to go on New Year’s day assuming the crowd would be hung over in bed.  On our walk to Brenda’s, we noticed some stragglers still partying at noon the next day.

I cannot remember the last time I partied until the sun came up. I feel old.

As we walked towards Brenda’s this is what I saw.

Oh hell no.  That line is not cute.  We had to wait for an hour and 45 minutes.  Bubby had been before, and he made me wait for my crawdads.  And dammit, he had me at crawdads.

After watching every crazy homeless person pass by, some familiar faces and some new, our table was finally ready.  The restaurant is packed with tables only two inches apart from each other.  I immediately ordered the watermelon iced tea to ease my anxiety and claustrophobia.

Sometimes sweet tea outside of the south can be way too sweet.  But this watermelon iced tea was perfectly cool and sweet. It reminded me of a hot Houston day and the smell of fresh-cut green grass.

Crawfish beignets with cayenne, scallions, and cheddar

Brenda’s serves several different kinds of beignets including plain with powdered sugar, apple, chocolate.  I ordered crawfish because I love crawfish.  The beignets are served hot, fluffy, and they collapsed with the pressure from my fork.  As I broke into the dough, the melted cheese oozed out.  Unfortunately, the ratio of crawfish to dough is off.  I expected large chunks of crawfish, but there were probably three small ones swimming in cheese in each pocket of dough.

I ordered the grillades and grits, and Bubby ordered the fried catfish eggs benedict.

The beef cutlets in the grillades and grits was tough and difficult to chew.  The grits were fluffy clouds perfectly buttered and smothered in cheddar cheese.  Nothing makes my belly smile more than buttered grits and cheese.  Bubby’s catfish eggs benedict was not as good as we imagined, but the biscuit was slap yo’ mama good.  That biscuit was it.   Would I wait two hours for it? Probably not.

Bubby and I needed to burn some serious Cajun calories, so I dragged him to Union Square for some serious shopping.  While in Union Square, Bubby and I always have to eat at King of Thai Noodle.  It’s not fancy Thai food, but serves really good roast duck.

Bubby always orders the duck fried rice with a fried egg on top, and I order the duck noodle soup.

Simple.  Duck.  Noodles.  Soup.  Peppers.  Good.
I haven’t tried the other dishes because there really is no need to.  This is the only dish I order every time.

The next day, I dragged Bubby to Hog Island Oyster Co.  I had a serious craving for oysters.  But once again, we hit another damn line.

The wait was not as bad as Brenda’s, probably 30 minutes total.  I ordered fresh lemonade to prep my taste buds.

We ordered both fresh and baked oysters.  The fresh ones included Hog Island Sweetwaters, Hog Island Atlantics, Sand Isle Kumamotos, Chelsea Gems, and Island Creeks.

These fresh oysters were thick and smooth as they slid down my throat.  The kumamotos had a slight “oceany” tang which I let Bubby enjoy.

The baked oysters were actually as tasty as the fresh ones to my surprise.

The Casino and Tarragon oysters were so flavorful.  The only bad thing about them was that there were only four.

The clam chowder

The clam chowder is not your typical clam chowder.  It’s not thick, but light and milky.  I added a splash of fresh lemon juice which really brightened the taste of the clams.  I loved dipping my grilled cheese into the chowder broth.

The crunchy sourdough bread and the stringy cheese dipped into the milkiness wonder of the clam chowder felt like a perfect hug from the inside on a cold January San Francisco day.  The pickled vegetables, cauliflower and carrots, added a nice acidic note to the entire meal.

As we walked back to our car to head home, we picked up some road trip treats in the Ferry Building.  Miette’s macarons and Blue Bottle Coffee Co.’s cappuccino.

The vanilla was way better than the chocolate.  Even Bubby, chocolate lover, agreed.

And for the last damn time, a San Franciscan line at the Blue Bottle Coffee Co.

Good strong caffeinated drinks.  Too bad it wasn’t strong enough to keep me awake during our car ride back to LA.  I always fall asleep in the car like a behbeh.

Goodbye, San Francisco.  I’ll always hold a special place in my heart for this beautiful city.  Where else could you find an Asian family all dressed in matching puffer jackets?

Trish’s Mini Donuts
Embarcadero Pier 39, Bldg B
San Francisco, CA

652 Polk St
San Francisco, CA

King of Thai Noodle
184 O’Farrell St
San Francisco, CA

(duck noodle soup only)

Hog Island Oyster Co.
1 Ferry Bldg
San Francisco, CA

Miette Patisserie
1 Ferry Bldg
San Francisco, CA

Blue Bottle Coffee Co.
1 Ferry Bldg
San Francisco, CA

Maui, Hawaii Part 1

24 Jan

I’m 31 today. I have been drinking legally for 10 years today. A full decade of buying my own liquor. No stealing Blister’s ID to sneak into clubs and memorizing that she’s an Aries and graduated from high school in 1996 just in case the bouncer asks. No paying that significantly older guy in the circle of friends to buy everyone’s liquor. Isn’t it weird that every high school crew had that one older friend who always hung out with the high school kids when he was like a hard 27? Anyway, I’m 31. To celebrate my 21st tenth year anniversary, Bubby took me to Maui. It was either Maui or theYSL bag I had my eye on for the last few months. And sinceYSL can’t give me a tan, loco moco, or four days off of work … Aloha, baby.

We are staying at the Makena Resort, south of Wailea. Here’s our view from our balcony. Golf course on the left and ocean on the right.

Since Bubby and I were working until the minute we boarded our plane, we didn’t know what to expect. We figured Maui was like Honolulu and everything was within walking distance. It’s not. You must rent a car and don’t wait until the last minute to rent one because the lady working at Enterprise will laugh in your face and let you know that all car rentals are gone for the entire island. Luckily, Budget at the Grand Wailea had 2 cars left. A convertible or the jeep. We chose this bad boy:

That’s right. Cherry red stang. Man, driving in Hawaii with the top down, sun on your shoulders, and wind in your hair makes one feel like a teenage boy full of testosterone. If Bubby was a teenage girl, I’d take her in the back seat and pop her cherry in my cherry stang. But Bubby is 30 so I turned up the Phil Collins and belt out an obligatory, older lady’s “woo hoo!”

I was itchin’ for some poke so we drove to The Fish Market in Lahaina. I requested that he make mine spicy.

The ahi is super fresh and the spicy soy sauce, onions, green onions, vinegar sauce was perfect. This is the perfect snack because it’s light, spicy, and savory. For lunch, Bubby ordered the ahi burger and I ordered a Hawaiian white fish (I can’t remember the name because I have vacay brain) with a side of mac salad.

I poured the left over poke sauce on my fish because it lacked flavor. Bubby disliked the onion bun on his burger.  The next time I come to The Fish Market, I’ll order a full pound of the spicy poke on a bed of rice. I’m a simple girl. After we stuffed our faces,we went to Kapua beach. Here’s Bubby lost at sea.

This beach looks nice but had rocks scattered all over the bottom of the ocean, making it difficult to squeeze the sand between my monkey toes. The ocean temperature is a lot colder than the ocean in Waikiki but it’s probably because the masses in Waikiki are probably pissing in the ocean and raising its overall temperature. And for that, I can handle fripples.

I’ve been to Hawaii several times but have never been to a Hawaiian lu’au. Bubby made reservations for us at Old Lahaina Lu’au and you can imagine my surprise when all of the waiters looked like this:

And this:

I immediately sent these photos to Blister and she responded with a “DAYUM! Which lu’au did you go to … chippendales Maui.” Yes, Blister. DAYUM, indeed. I couldn’t stop staring at the waiters, especially the ones with the tatted sleeves. My gawking was a level 10 that Bubby agreed to get a tattoo as long as it was original and meaningful. Happy birthday to me.

The buffet at the lu’au offered your typical Hawaiian options. They even dug out the swine from the ground.  The recurring theme for me in Hawaii was to stack my plate with so much food that it resembles a trough.

DAMN IT! My stupid Ipad just ate the rest of my blog post.  STUPID IPAD. I basically broke down every single item on this plate in a clockwise fashion and now it’s gone.  STUPID IPAD.  Speaking of Ipad, we were sitting on the beach in Maui and I told Bubby, “Oh no, there is so much sand in my Ipad … that’s annoying.”  And my smart-ass husband muttered, “White people problems.”

Anyway, I also wrote a long love letter to the guava/strawberry butter at the lu’au. I was raving on and on about how decadent this magical butter tasted to my husband, and this rude girl sitting across from us (1) overheard our conversation and (2) stuck her dirty ass finger through my precious butter. WHAT THE WHAT?!  Kids are so rude these days.  After licking her dirty ass finger she looked at me and nodded, “it is good.”  Damn Omar Little, jackin’ my shit.

In sum, the lu’au had tasty butter, chicken long rice (the noodles in the small black cup), and tattooed eye candy.

The Fish Market
3600 L. Honoapiilani Road
Lahaina, Hawaii
(the poke deserves 5 fresh claps but the other dishes deserve 2)

Old Lahaina Lu’au
1251 Front Street
Lahaina, Hawaii
(the food deserves 2 claps but the staff deserves a standing ovation and 6 claps symbolizing their 6-pack abs, Good morning!)


22 Sep

I’m baaaaaack, bitches!  (Yes, Dr. Hay Hay Hay … no more Masan)

I had to neglect my food blog under doctor’s orders.  The doctor being Blister.  She yelled at me for pigging out weeks before my wedding.  In her own words, “WHO THE HELL PIGS OUT AND WRITES A FOOD BLOG BEFORE THEIR WEDDING?!! YOU NEED TO WORK OUT AND STOP EATING! THIS IS YOUR OSCARS, AND YOU WILL NEVER LOOK THIS GOOD EVER AGAIN!”  Healthcare professionals can be so dramatic, but I had to listen to her.  So now that I’m married and don’t have to torture myself with 1200 calories a day … IT’S RAINING MEAT, HALLELUJAH!  IT’S RAINING MEAT, OOO YAAAH!

This is my first entry as Mrs. Meat and Confer.  It feels the same but, now, if I get knocked up, I won’t bring terrible shame to my Korean family.  Actually, our parents wouldn’t care, especially Bubby’s dad.  He wanted us to give birth to a bastard.  Now that Bubby is my husband, can I still call him Bubby? Or is it Hubby?  Husby?  Hussy?  What should I call him?

It’s only fitting that my first entry be based on our honeymoon in Barbados.  When Hussy and I plan a vacation, we carefully pick our destination, conduct the proper research, buy the travel books and guides before going.  With all of the wedding planning, we did not have the time to undergo our usual research routine.  We went to Barbados blind and didn’t even know what kind of food they served.  Unfortunately, the food is bad.  I was expecting some delicious Caribbean spices and seafood, but Bajan food is not good at all and 100% carbs.  The only thing I couldn’t get more of was the Bajan hot pepper sauce.  It’s super spicy and flavorful.  I bought several bottles to bring back to the States, but stupid Miami airport made me throw them away.  No one in customs informed me that I should pack the bottles in my bag, and I had to leave those sweet babies behind.  I hate you, Miami airport.  I hate you for making me leave my sweet Bajan babies.

Crane Hotel and Resort

We landed in Barbados after a full day of flying with a layover in Dallas.  Dallas airport is not as awesome as the Houston airport because it lacks Pappadeaux.  Oh sweet delicious Pappadeux, how I miss your shrimp brochettes.  Delicious fat shrimps hugged in jalapeno, Monterey jack cheese, and a thick slab of piggy bacon sleeping comfortably on a bed of dirty rice.  You dirty, filthy bitch.  You so dirty, rice.

Anyway, we landed in Barbados and arrived at the Crane.  The Crane is one of the oldest and nicest hotels in Barbados.  Crane beach is ranked top ten beaches in the Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.  We personally believe Accra beach is a better beach than Crane, but I can see the allure of the pink sand between the toes.

As soon as we checked in, I wanted a big, fat juicy burger.  But room service was closed since it was a national holiday, Crop Over.  Crop Over Festival is like Carnival in Brazil– lots of tiddy shakin’ and booty grindin’.  Crop Over is a major national holiday in Barbados and shut the entire city down.  Instead of a juicy burger, we got one sandwich, yogurt, and bread to share.  I miss In N’ Out already.

The Crane is amazing, especially if you have a private plunge pool.  That’s right, “ladies” … private plunge pool.

The mysterious body in the pool is my Hussy.  Do you see the blue ocean?  My favorite thing to do was sit on our deck, watch movies on Netflix on my ipad, and crack open some joo joo beez.  What’s a joo joo bee?  We didn’t know either, but they’re these small green fruits that I bought an entire bag for 2 Barbados dollars (1 US dollar).  Their correct name is guinep, but Hussy and I called them joo joo beez.

How to eat a joo joo bee

Gently bite into the skin and flip the skin back.

Take out the fleshy fruit and seed.

Suck on the seed and remove when sweet fruit flesh is gone.

They are really delicious and sweet.  I love spitting the seeds into the trash, some landed in our pool.

As soon as we arrived, we wanted to taste the local food like fish cakes and fish cutters (a fish sandwich).  Fish cakes are fish balls.  They’re round and made of ground fish.

Fish balls

They looked delicious like hush puppies.  How bad could they be, they’re deep fried??
Oh, they’re bad. They are stringy with a hint of slime inside.  No deep fryer can save these puppies.  Bad fish balls.

On a better fried note, Chefette is a fried chicken/pizza/roti chain restaurant that is like the Starbucks of Barbados.  There are no Starbucks, McDonald’s, or Burger King.  Just Chefette, its competitor, KFC, and Subway.  Fried chicken –you know I had to try it, I served fried chicken at my wedding for crying out loud.

Chefette’s fried chicken is kick ass.  It’s crispy on the outside with a hint of Caribbean spices.  The meat is juicy and soft.  It’s pretty fucking-finger-lickin’ good.  I was going to write finger-fucking-lickin’ good, but that sounded really nasty.  Chefette > KFC.  Hands down.

*Broasted Chicken means fried chicken.

The pepperoni pizza at Chefette is tasty, too.  I tried it after our cab driver, James, recommended it to us.  The cheese runneth over and oozed onto the pizza box.  I happily scraped the cheese off the cardboard box with my finger and ate it while sitting on a white sand beach.  Bliss.

Oistin’s Fish Fry

Hussy is a lover of fish.  He was so excited to hear about the Oistin’s Fish Fry.  We actually went to Oistin’s twice just to try the different fish options.  There’s a rivalry between Pat’s and Uncle George’s.  On our first visit to Oistin’s, we went to Pat’s.  I ordered the fried flying fish, and Hussy ordered the red snapper.

Fried flying fish (Do you see all that yellowness of carbs with a baby side of green?)

Carbs with a side of Red snapper

The flying fish was freshly fried and tasted a little bit like tender chicken.  The lady sitting next to me had her flying fish grilled which looked better than my fried version.  We ordered sides of macaroni salad, french fries, and rice with peas.  The rice with peas had a spicy kick to it, and I loved it.  But something was missing … this Korean needed some heat.  So Hussy brought me some sweet baby Bajan hot pepper sauce.

Tartar and Bajan Sauces

Like a nice pair of shoes on an average looking guy, the Bajan hot pepper sauce kicked this dish up a notch from a 6 to a 7.  Without the sauce, the fish was bland and forgettable.  But with this sauce, everything tasted amazing.  I was double-dipping the shit out of everything in this magical sauce.  When I was done with my meal, I had a little bit of sauce left over that I was definitely taking with me for future meals.  The bloke next to me asked, “Are you done with the sauce?”  My eyes pierced at his grabby little fingers reaching over for my sauce.  “Um, there’s more sauce at the counter.”  That disgusting fucker wanted to take my leftover sauce, the same sauce I had basically given a rim job to.  Hussy looked at me and laughed his ass off.

For dessert, Hussy wanted some ice cream.  Luckily, there was an ice cream shop at the fish fry.  What to order … what to order?

What a selection, so much to choose from.  This menu is the typical Bajan menu.  They offer 100 things on the menu, but really only have 2 of those 100 in stock.  So you think you’re going to 21 Choices, but it’s really 21 Choices.

Rum raisin ice cream with my Bajan sauce

Rum raisin ice cream.  You would think that rum raisin ice cream would be super fantastical in Barbados, a country with hella rum.  It was ok.  The temperature should’ve been colder, the rum a little stronger.

After wandering the streets of Oistins and browsing through the little tented market, Hussy wanted to go to Uncle George’s for DP2.  What’s DP2? Dinner Part Two.  Hussy eats two dinners.  He eats his first dinner around 7 pm, and his second one around 11 pm.  It’s a common fact known to everyone, including my mom.  Whenever we eat at my mom’s, she packs a small second meal and says, “Dinnuh Paht Tooo.”

Uncle George’s had a crazy long line, so we returned to Pat’s and Hussy ordered dolphin.   In Barbados, they call marlin, “dolphin.” It looks weird to find dolphin on the menu, but our cab driver told us, “not flippah.”

Dolphin (not flippah, marlin)

The dolphin was thick and meaty.  So delicious and sweet, and better than the flying fish and red snapper.  It had the consistency of a juicy steak and was very filling.  They fucked up our side orders.  They put grilled potatoes in there.  It was actually quite delicious with the charcoal grilled flavor and the potatoes were sweet.

On our second trip to Oistin’s, we went to Uncle George’s.  Uncle Fucking George.  We waited in that bloody line for 2+ hours.  Two fucking hours because of the inefficiency of UFG.

I want to strangle them.

I don’t even know what we fucking ordered because of that 2 hour wait.  By the time we got our food, it started pouring.  That’s the thing about Barbados, it would be sunny all day and then there would be a sudden monsoon for 5 minutes.  I angrily ate my mysterious fish in the monsoon weather.  I was so pissed, I don’t even remember if it was good.

I do remember the beverages though.

Banks beer is the beer of Barbados.  It’s light and refreshing like an Amstel Light but better.  But the alcohol star of the night is Twist.  Twist is fucking amazeballs.  It’s lemonade with a splash of Banks beer.  Doesn’t that sound refreshingly awesome on a hot Caribbean night? It twas.  Twist.

My vote goes to Pat’s as The King of Oistin’s because UFG pissed me off and I can’t remember a damn thing.

Colony Club Resort

The second week of our honeymoon, we stayed at the Colony Club.  The Colony Club was no Crane but we did enjoy our access to the pool.  It wasn’t a private pool, but we never saw anyone in it.

Barbados was nice, but I hoped for better cuisine.  We went to a lot of restaurants like Zen (rated the best in Barbados) and Daphne’s, but it wasn’t anything to write home about.  Would I go to Barbados again? Probably not.  But I will think of my private plunge pool fondly.

P.S. I decided to bring home a Bajan to play the role of my husband.

Top: Hussy’s
Bottom: Mines