I'll tell you what I love most about Miyako Sushi - their bento boxes. Bento boxes are the compartmentalized trays that are used to serve a variety of foods without them having to touch. I'd never seen one of those before Miyako, though of course I've been exposed to them from my geeky period when I read anime, which I am now announcing to the internet. This is my final confession, now you guys know everything about me. From these anime I learned that bento boxes are really just Japanese style lunch boxes, this is what a Japanese dad would prepare for his daughter before school in grade school. I don't know how to say this without feeling like I'm patronizing an entire culture, but they are seriously the cutest things ever. Little individual slots for each portion, so your pickle doesn't get your ham sandwich wet. Or, you know, whatever they eat for school lunches in Japan. +112 I guess now that I think about it they might be a cheezy thing to put in a restaurant, but I love them. The Japanese have done it. They've found the perfect solution to OCD! Your sauces and sides never ever ever have to touch each other again! I feel like I can finally dine freely again.
They have a turtle pond in the waiting area of their restaurant, which I confess I don't care for. It's similar to koi ponds that other Japanese and Asian restaurants have, with the open top that people throw pennies into. But they weren't koi, they were turtles! I met this guy the other day who's last name was Ready. This is a true story folks not my usual nonsense. After I pried him for the secrets to his success, he told me that the trick was to not make the jokes too often. "You can only say 'I was born ready' so many times before it isn't funny," he told me. "You have to space yourself out." You all know that this is the exact opposite of my comedy ability, and I rely on having the same repertoire of jokes to tell over and over until people laugh again because they feel sorry for me. At restaurants with koi fish, I say, "Oh look, they're growing our dinner." And I think it's so funny because they're koi fish and of course koi fish aren't in sushi, the joke is why would you eat a KOI fish? Get it? It's funny, right? And everyone's looking around like they're wishing they hadn't waited for me to put pants on and just left me behind. But Miyako has turtles instead of koi fish and my humor is much too sophisticated and subtle to point out a wide disparate as that, and I'm forced to spend the evening in sullen silence, my outstanding wit being forced under a rock. -14
There is a mystery to Miyako, however. You guys know how much I love mysteries +24 if only someone would film a crime drama about it, my life would be slick and perfect. So when you walk in, the hostess says, "Would you guys like a table or Japanese style?" Oooh!!! I've always said "table", and I wonder.... what could Japanese style even be! Those people get led off into an entirely separate side of the restaurant. If you're at a table, you have no idea what's going on in that other room. My anime training prepared me for this for sure. I bet you go into the other side of the restaurant and bam! A thousand ninjas drop down from the sky and out from behind the walls. Vengeance, brought down on you from the tiresome path of your fate! All looks lost for you. You close your eyes, and the air around you turns into vertical lines on a white background. You press your palms together, and center your mind. Pow! All of the ninjas explode in a flash of light! In their place sit piles of sushi and bento boxes, already with the pieces drug through the sauce in exactly the way you like. You lay on your back, arms crossed behind your head, and someone feeds you each piece of sushi.
If anyone can confirm this chain of events, please email me at arbitrarycriticism@live.com.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
Batanga
That's right guys. I don't spend all of my time locked up in my bedroom, typing away on my computer and spending hours staring out the window at the rain thinking about sorrow and poetry and what rhymes with "young adult wasteland" and "why do my boobs hurt so bad when I lay on top of them". Sometimes, I leave my house and go to fancy, trendy restaurants in Houston's popular downtown district. And sometimes, I even wear clothes that I haven't slept in. I am an adult, ladies and gentlemen.
I really like Batanga, I've actually been there twice. I like it the most because of a drink they have called "Finn's Revenge." I'm not exactly sure what's in it (even though they print all of the details on the menu); it's something like coconut milk and vanilla rum and ginger beer and basil and mint. It's definitely the most delicious alcoholic beverage I've ever had and it tastes like a milkshake. The real reason I like it though is because of the basil and mint that they put in there. Guys I LOVE drinking alcohol with roughage in it. I always pick it out and eat it, even though my mother, director of the Etiquette School of Central Texas, would probably suggest that that is "rude and disgusting." Look, here's my argument: that may be the only serving of vegetables I eat that week. Would you rather I was a little bit rude at the dinner table with somebody who's obviously, let's face it, I mean look at me, dating me for my looks anyways and doesn't care about my habits.... or that I die of some kind of vitamin deficiency because most of my diet is made up of bowls of strawberry frosted shredded wheat and frozen pierogies? Or as I call them, little pastry puffs of heaven. I think that the choice here is obvious. Finn's Revenge saves lives, and we should respect that. +13
Here's what's actually the best thing about Batanga that I can't believe I didn't start with: hello, it is so freaking fun to say! Batanga! Batanga! Batanga! It seems like it should be someone's catchphrase, or something! Or like a polite way of saying something dirty. "I really need to go to the facilities and batanga." "Man, did you see that hot guy? I'd really like to curl up with him and batanga." "I went out last night and had a few too many Finn's Revenges, and this morning.... bam! Batanga everywhere!" Not because Batanga the restaurant is a dirty kind of place but just because, you know. I want to say the word every day, in every situation. +21
My main criticism of Batanga is of course completely arbitrary. I hate that it's a tapas restaurant! The food is so good, why does it have to be served in such an annoying way! I hate tapas for one very simple reason: I'm an extremely competitive person. When I go to the restaurant, I want to sit down, look at the menu, and then pick the most delicious thing they've got. When my dish comes out, I want to say, "Oh my gosh, this is the most delicious thing I've ever tasted! I'll give up batangaing for life if it means I can only eat this until I die! Though, without batanga, that might be pretty quickly, am I right?" And then everyone that I'm with is super jealous, and they're eating whatever inferior thing they ordered, and they're sullenly dragging their soup through some gross broth or like trying to carve some kind of quail or something pretentious, seething with hatred that I'm so much better at restauranting than they are. That's all I want, OK? That's my idea of a perfect night, of a perfect meal. For me to, you know, be better than everyone else. Tapas? They're like the communism of the dinner table. Everyone gets the same thing. I don't get to sit there, smug and high and mighty, lording over my companions. Now, we're all eating the same bacon-wrapped dates or whatever (an excellent dish actually available at Batanga, it's a new year so I'll give you an actual fact about a restaurant for a change. Just don't get used to it) and we're all closing our eyes and wondering what wonderful thing we did in a past life to deserve this. -90 I wanted to be the only one who did something great in my past life! I want to be the one with all the stored karma credits! If I wanted to live my life in the horrible kind of way where we're all equal, I would move to Cuba. But I don't! I want to be champion of the universe, and Batanga is making it really difficult to reach my goals. So thanks a lot, and I'll be reporting you to Senator McCarthy to be dealt with accordingly.
If I were you I'd get to Batanga now, before it's closed down, and if anyone is interested in signing my petition to end tapas restaurants once and for all, feel free to email me at arbitrarycriticism@live.com.
I really like Batanga, I've actually been there twice. I like it the most because of a drink they have called "Finn's Revenge." I'm not exactly sure what's in it (even though they print all of the details on the menu); it's something like coconut milk and vanilla rum and ginger beer and basil and mint. It's definitely the most delicious alcoholic beverage I've ever had and it tastes like a milkshake. The real reason I like it though is because of the basil and mint that they put in there. Guys I LOVE drinking alcohol with roughage in it. I always pick it out and eat it, even though my mother, director of the Etiquette School of Central Texas, would probably suggest that that is "rude and disgusting." Look, here's my argument: that may be the only serving of vegetables I eat that week. Would you rather I was a little bit rude at the dinner table with somebody who's obviously, let's face it, I mean look at me, dating me for my looks anyways and doesn't care about my habits.... or that I die of some kind of vitamin deficiency because most of my diet is made up of bowls of strawberry frosted shredded wheat and frozen pierogies? Or as I call them, little pastry puffs of heaven. I think that the choice here is obvious. Finn's Revenge saves lives, and we should respect that. +13
Here's what's actually the best thing about Batanga that I can't believe I didn't start with: hello, it is so freaking fun to say! Batanga! Batanga! Batanga! It seems like it should be someone's catchphrase, or something! Or like a polite way of saying something dirty. "I really need to go to the facilities and batanga." "Man, did you see that hot guy? I'd really like to curl up with him and batanga." "I went out last night and had a few too many Finn's Revenges, and this morning.... bam! Batanga everywhere!" Not because Batanga the restaurant is a dirty kind of place but just because, you know. I want to say the word every day, in every situation. +21
My main criticism of Batanga is of course completely arbitrary. I hate that it's a tapas restaurant! The food is so good, why does it have to be served in such an annoying way! I hate tapas for one very simple reason: I'm an extremely competitive person. When I go to the restaurant, I want to sit down, look at the menu, and then pick the most delicious thing they've got. When my dish comes out, I want to say, "Oh my gosh, this is the most delicious thing I've ever tasted! I'll give up batangaing for life if it means I can only eat this until I die! Though, without batanga, that might be pretty quickly, am I right?" And then everyone that I'm with is super jealous, and they're eating whatever inferior thing they ordered, and they're sullenly dragging their soup through some gross broth or like trying to carve some kind of quail or something pretentious, seething with hatred that I'm so much better at restauranting than they are. That's all I want, OK? That's my idea of a perfect night, of a perfect meal. For me to, you know, be better than everyone else. Tapas? They're like the communism of the dinner table. Everyone gets the same thing. I don't get to sit there, smug and high and mighty, lording over my companions. Now, we're all eating the same bacon-wrapped dates or whatever (an excellent dish actually available at Batanga, it's a new year so I'll give you an actual fact about a restaurant for a change. Just don't get used to it) and we're all closing our eyes and wondering what wonderful thing we did in a past life to deserve this. -90 I wanted to be the only one who did something great in my past life! I want to be the one with all the stored karma credits! If I wanted to live my life in the horrible kind of way where we're all equal, I would move to Cuba. But I don't! I want to be champion of the universe, and Batanga is making it really difficult to reach my goals. So thanks a lot, and I'll be reporting you to Senator McCarthy to be dealt with accordingly.
If I were you I'd get to Batanga now, before it's closed down, and if anyone is interested in signing my petition to end tapas restaurants once and for all, feel free to email me at arbitrarycriticism@live.com.
Monday, January 6, 2014
Soma Sushi
Oh you guys thought you'd gotten rid of me? You thought you'd chased me out of town for good? Well you were wrong! Sorry about my absence over the last few months, I've been in hiding after a restaurant review gone horribly wrong ended with me running for my life on a five-continent chase for my life. In the end I made it out alive with barely any scratches; the disgruntled restaurateur, however, is sleeping with the fishes. At the Moody Gardens aquarium, because he likes sleeping there and it makes him feel more at peace. Neither one of us will be getting the show on the Food Network any time soon, it seems.
I'm here with you today to discuss my current favorite restaurant, Soma Sushi. I'll tell you what, guys, I've fallen hard into this ramen trend. Is ramen even still a hot trend? I don't know, because I haven't been eating anything else so I've missed all the new food crazes. I like going to Soma because it makes me feel alright about paying $17 for something I can make for thirteen cents at home. It's just a really sexy restaurant, with it's dim lights and deep red accent walls and the pictures of mostly naked men and women on the bathroom doors. +17 Like I feel like I'm some kind of international spy, meeting my lover from the other side for our once-yearly tete-a-tete. Honestly those bathroom doors are the coolest I've ever seen, and if I didn't think it would keep me from getting my security deposit back I'd install some in my apartment.
Despite the fact that this is my favorite restaurant, there are actually a number of negatives that I'm going to recite for you, in the hopes that you don't go to Soma and I can always get a table. The main problem, of course, is the after dinner mints. They taste like poop. I've eaten a lot of after dinner mints in my life, and these have to be the grossest. They're some kind of minty, chocolately, hard candy monstrosity which combines three great characteristics of after dinner mints into something that makes angels weep. -9 The worst part is my boyfriend loves them, which leads me to wonder if this man that I am dating has any sense of taste at all.
For people like me who go to a restaurant and expect to drink several gallons of free water, they provide a bottle of water at the table so that I can serve myself. Normally this is something I like - there's nothing worse than dying of thirst because the waiter has a dozen other tables and doesn't have the time to hover at my elbow refilling my glass every three minutes. The negative is that they keep the water in these tall, beautiful wine glasses to class up the joint, and I can't look at them without feeling the sick sense of shame. One time I was dining at Johnny Carino's with my parents, and like the pig I am I went ahead and ate all the oil and garlic provided. What to do, what to do... There was a green wine bottle sitting on my table- that must be filled with more oil! There was a cork in the bottle that was wedged in pretty deeply; it took all of my strength and the encouragement of my parents to get it open. Finally free, I poured the oil into the dish only to discover - it was water! That bottle wasn't full of something I wanted to eat on bread! It was simply decorative! The damn bottle wasn't meant to be used for anything at all! To add insult to the injury, the waitress was shocked when she walked by that I was able to get the cork open at all. Not only did I not have the oil for my bread, I'd ruined what oil was left and now I had superpowers that I would forever associate with this horrible day. So I hate the green bottles at Soma (-12) and I hate superheroes, for being able to embrace what I must repress.
Here's the worst thing about Soma: the parking situation is a little fierce, the restaurant is on Washington Avenue and the other shops in the strip center have been careful to put up "Will Tow Soma Diners During Business Hours" signs. This blows big ones because it seems like you may have to valet your car. Now, my roommate is a valet, and thanks to the stories he tells when he returns home, I will never valet my car unless I can help it. So here I was, waiting to parallel park a street over, trying to get out of the parking lot, when I pull up behind a red Honda Civic parked in front of the valet line. The brake lights are on and I figure this person is waiting for a valet, so I wait patiently behind it because I'm a patient person and I don't what to run over a guy who parks cars for a living, that seems like I'll never find the karma to overtake that. I'm waiting, I'm waiting, I'm waiting, finally I realize - there's nobody in that freaking car! I'm just sitting here, idling, like a complete moron while other people come in and take what few parking spots are left! Ugh, it was the worst day ever. -5 So I swung around the car, struggled to fit my car into a space that was just four inches larger than my vehicle, and then went in to dine - the car was STILL THERE. It's probably there to this day! It makes me so angry because HELLO! I'm twenty three years old, I should definitely be able to tell the difference between parking brakes and regular brakes, but can you please just turn off your car? What about the environment, and our nation's dependence of foreign oil? Some people are just so inconsiderate.
That's all the information I have for you today. Please feel free to email me at arbitrarycriticism@live.com to tell me how much you missed me when I was too depressed to write - I mean, in the middle of a global fight for my life.
I'm here with you today to discuss my current favorite restaurant, Soma Sushi. I'll tell you what, guys, I've fallen hard into this ramen trend. Is ramen even still a hot trend? I don't know, because I haven't been eating anything else so I've missed all the new food crazes. I like going to Soma because it makes me feel alright about paying $17 for something I can make for thirteen cents at home. It's just a really sexy restaurant, with it's dim lights and deep red accent walls and the pictures of mostly naked men and women on the bathroom doors. +17 Like I feel like I'm some kind of international spy, meeting my lover from the other side for our once-yearly tete-a-tete. Honestly those bathroom doors are the coolest I've ever seen, and if I didn't think it would keep me from getting my security deposit back I'd install some in my apartment.
Despite the fact that this is my favorite restaurant, there are actually a number of negatives that I'm going to recite for you, in the hopes that you don't go to Soma and I can always get a table. The main problem, of course, is the after dinner mints. They taste like poop. I've eaten a lot of after dinner mints in my life, and these have to be the grossest. They're some kind of minty, chocolately, hard candy monstrosity which combines three great characteristics of after dinner mints into something that makes angels weep. -9 The worst part is my boyfriend loves them, which leads me to wonder if this man that I am dating has any sense of taste at all.
For people like me who go to a restaurant and expect to drink several gallons of free water, they provide a bottle of water at the table so that I can serve myself. Normally this is something I like - there's nothing worse than dying of thirst because the waiter has a dozen other tables and doesn't have the time to hover at my elbow refilling my glass every three minutes. The negative is that they keep the water in these tall, beautiful wine glasses to class up the joint, and I can't look at them without feeling the sick sense of shame. One time I was dining at Johnny Carino's with my parents, and like the pig I am I went ahead and ate all the oil and garlic provided. What to do, what to do... There was a green wine bottle sitting on my table- that must be filled with more oil! There was a cork in the bottle that was wedged in pretty deeply; it took all of my strength and the encouragement of my parents to get it open. Finally free, I poured the oil into the dish only to discover - it was water! That bottle wasn't full of something I wanted to eat on bread! It was simply decorative! The damn bottle wasn't meant to be used for anything at all! To add insult to the injury, the waitress was shocked when she walked by that I was able to get the cork open at all. Not only did I not have the oil for my bread, I'd ruined what oil was left and now I had superpowers that I would forever associate with this horrible day. So I hate the green bottles at Soma (-12) and I hate superheroes, for being able to embrace what I must repress.
Here's the worst thing about Soma: the parking situation is a little fierce, the restaurant is on Washington Avenue and the other shops in the strip center have been careful to put up "Will Tow Soma Diners During Business Hours" signs. This blows big ones because it seems like you may have to valet your car. Now, my roommate is a valet, and thanks to the stories he tells when he returns home, I will never valet my car unless I can help it. So here I was, waiting to parallel park a street over, trying to get out of the parking lot, when I pull up behind a red Honda Civic parked in front of the valet line. The brake lights are on and I figure this person is waiting for a valet, so I wait patiently behind it because I'm a patient person and I don't what to run over a guy who parks cars for a living, that seems like I'll never find the karma to overtake that. I'm waiting, I'm waiting, I'm waiting, finally I realize - there's nobody in that freaking car! I'm just sitting here, idling, like a complete moron while other people come in and take what few parking spots are left! Ugh, it was the worst day ever. -5 So I swung around the car, struggled to fit my car into a space that was just four inches larger than my vehicle, and then went in to dine - the car was STILL THERE. It's probably there to this day! It makes me so angry because HELLO! I'm twenty three years old, I should definitely be able to tell the difference between parking brakes and regular brakes, but can you please just turn off your car? What about the environment, and our nation's dependence of foreign oil? Some people are just so inconsiderate.
That's all the information I have for you today. Please feel free to email me at arbitrarycriticism@live.com to tell me how much you missed me when I was too depressed to write - I mean, in the middle of a global fight for my life.
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