Friday, October 27, 2006

Your Favorite Weekend: No Work Allowed

Every Thursday (er, or Friday), skip the C-list celebrities and C-list recommendations in the LA Times column, My Favorite Weekend, and check out what real Angelenos have to say on Erin's Kitchen instead. Want to share your favorite weekend? Email erinskitchen [at] gmail [dot] com.

Gastronomy 101's Favorite Weekend

KT of Gastronomy 101 is an attorney by day, food explorer by night. Check out her blog for great LA tips and stories from trips to San Francisco and beyond.

Canter's Bakery, photo by indieman

FRIDAY: The weekend begins with me stumbling into my apartment, thoroughly beaten down and oppressed by a week of working and of not sleeping. My dog, Buster immediately runs me over and licks me about 1532 times because we are both so happy I am home. Once I can drag my husband away from the computer by pestering him so much that he gets annoyed and can't work anymore, we all go the couch and snuggle up together with the phone, a laptop and the remote control.

We order a slab of cheese pizza and a chopped salad from Cheebo and watch all of the TV that our Tivo has so generously saved up for us throughout the week. At some point, someone on TV, or even someone in our very own living room will mention cake or cupcakes or cookies, and then we will all be forced to get up and walk to Canter's to get dessert. Because everyone knows that the words cake, cupcakes and cookies are magical words and once you say them out loud, you will not be able to rest until you actually eat one of those items.

SATURDAY: Saturday begins with a game where we try to stay asleep as long as possible and the dog tries to "accidently" wake us up by just happening to run up and down the hallway 58 times in a row. We then walk to Buzz and get some Groundwork coffee. I get Sumatra. Husband gets Black Gold. Dog doesn't get any.

At night, we oftentimes meet up with friends N. and Z. to have dinner at Angeli Caffe, where I will more often than not enjoy a pizza quattro stagione and a bottle of Bacio Divino "Pazzo" red wine (Not by myself! Geez, you guys, what kind of a lush do you think I am?). After dinner we will mean to do some activity out on the town like the raging partiers we are, but will instead start talking at our apartment and end up drinking 345 cocktails and talking for 87 hours straight, or until someone falls asleep in the middle of the conversation, whichever happens first.

SUNDAY: Sunday starts much the same as Saturday. Once coffee has been consumed, I will walk to the Melrose Place Farmer's market and buy some bread and whatever fruit or veggies Mr. Russ Parsons has commanded me to buy this week. And perhaps some gerber daisies, too. Very often, on my return I will then be called on to go meet my friend and former prom date, and his very handsome boyfriend and we will go shopping at the Grove. The Grove is not a fun place to go shopping UNLESS you first surround yourself with your gay boyfriends, and then it suddenly becomes a fabulous adventure.

After we have thoroughly criticized every item in every store (especially Abercrombie and Fitch) then they leave and I ravage the farmer's market for more ingredients to provide my week's meals, and stop and say hi to my friend Mike at Singapore's Banana Leaf and hope that he'll try to force some sort of free drink or food item on me. (PS: SCOOP - for those of you Pinkberry-spotters, he says they are opening one in the Farmer's Market near his stand.) At home again, I will cook something and we will spend our last hours of freedom very much as we did our first, watching Sunday night HBO and trying to stay up as late as possible, because when we go to sleep, then we will have to wake up to Monday.

1 comment:

Isaiah said...

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