Saturday, November 6, 2010

Harlem --- and all the other enclaves.


You know, there's a charm and essence about Harlem I just love. I went to Melba's today for her famous chicken and waffles that were featured on Throwdown. Immediately when I walked in, a family member of Melba's that worked there said that the kitchen was closing to prepare for dinner service --- But if I could order quickly Melba is fine with keeping the kitchen open for another 20 minutes. Not only that, but she said I could hang out for as long as I wanted, no rush at all. The atmosphere was welcoming. The people were welcoming. I felt at home --- and I believe that's Melba's goal with her restaurant. She even came out and sat at the table across from me, just sitting there going over mail and number crunching. She was happy --- and happy to take pictures with anyone who wanted to take pictures with her, who clearly loved seeing people happy. Needless to say her fried chicken beats Roscoe's hands down. I did a million crunches and ran all over Manhattan shortly thereafter. Thank you, Melba.

On a different note, I'm not trying to be controversial nor am I trying to be racist. What I will post shortly after this is a forewarning of potentially terrible things -- these things are purely based on observation and I mean absolutely no harm by it.

So to just say it already, I just want to say that I love the Harlem black community. Historically Harlem has always been pegged as being such a poor black community littered with crime. That Columbia U is in the middle of the ghetto. That Harlem is nothing but projects and comparable to the worst parts of East LA, Compton, Watts, etc. I remember visiting Harlem, Queens, The Bronx, Brooklyn, etc. as a kid --- and Harlem today is nothing of what it was then. Harlem has been cleaned up beautifully with little fall backs here and there, but even in rich white surburbia that i call home, we have our fall backs in cleanliness, too.

Today I fell in love with Harlem. I fell in love with its people. I fell in love with the vibrancy that is this part of New York City. I felt safe and comfortable. I felt like this was what I wanted to feel when in Harlem. --- None of that nonsense down Times Square, 5th, Broadway or any of that crap. What I saw in Harlem was genuine --- Walking through Church of the Holy Rosary littered with happy go lucky church goers. Across the street at Riverside Park, where Ulysses S. Grant's tomb in that monster of a moseaoleum, I saw a bunch of Kid-Cudi look alikes hanging around in the park just huddled around talking politics. Maybe they were Columbia U students. Maybe there were just hood kids. In LA I'd assume they were all doing crack -- and they probably would be --- and certainly politics wouldn't be a favored topic. Whoever is running Harlem is spending their money wisely cleaning up that community on all levels. My father says it's a combination of the conservative wall street men bringing in the cash flow to NYC, its government dispersing it appropriately --- obviously a liberal government with the right intentions and agenda. Why can't I see this in LA? Why doesn't this exist in California? Either way, LA has taught me to be scared of everyone and everything but affluent ritzy areas. That drive-by shootings are the norm. That living that life is OK. Harlem has taught me that LA is full of shit and not everyone is fucked up. There is serious lack of culture in LA even though we say we're so cultured. We're not. Californians are full of complete shit. We segregate the poor and let them try to kill each other off. We keep them dumb and do nothing to help our terrible education system, we just give them money to shut them up just enough to not be heard. We allow people to go on welfare for lengthy periods of time without question. We allow for people to acclimate to living with nothing but government money. It's the Stockholm Syndrome of government. We do nothing to help. We've had Barbara Boxer in California for 20 years doing nothing. We've had Jerry Brown before who did nothing. He did nothing for Oakland. I'm not saying that what we need is a bunch of neoconservatives in office because that does nothing good either. What I am saying is we need people who actually care. I'd love to see LA transform like Harlem has. Harlem is amazing, plain and simple. Maybe I didn't spend enough time there to see its negative side but the reality all communities have their drawbacks --- despite race, nationality or creed.

Now that I'm going to step down from my soapbox --- I just want to say leaving New York City is going to be incredibly difficult for me. I spend the better part of a day just hanging around East Village --- filled with South Americans and its incredible cuisine. I was reminded of Madrid and my heart melted 800 times over. It's been exactly a year since I've been to Madrid. I spent my 1 year sans-Madrid anniversary in East Village, at Caracas Arepa Bar and I loved it. I've never spoken so much Spanish outside of Spain or in my own home.

It's like all these little ethnic enclaves are forgotten by tourists. Last I was here I was a kid, so this is a whole new experience for me. I feel like when my friends tell me about NYC they either aren't brave enough to explore on their own or aren't interested in anything other than the norm, they come to get drunk and go to bars or do drugs in hotel rooms. maybe see a Yankee game. Everyone wants to come to NYC and see the museum and the flashing lights and sounds of Times Square. Everyone wants to shop on Broadway and I'm not sure why, isn't that why we have online shopping? I don't think people come here enough and venture out to little mom and pop shops or go beyond pizza, hot dogs, pretzels and don't see what really makes New York City which are street after street of mini countries in such a small space. Traveling the globe in 10 miles. Sounds good to me.

Across the Hudson I fell in love with Hoboken and Jersey City. a 10 minute subway ride to an adopted Habana itself. I've never seen so many Cubans outside of Miami --- Cubans who take pride in their community and cuisine. It's so awesome here. As a Cuban on both sides, I adopted the Cuban culture as my own. I adopted as much as I could without being in Habana or Miami, minus the Catholicism of course. The point is that being here made me REALLY feel at home as I identified with this community in the best way possible.

Leaving tomorrow is going to be hard --- and I will be thinking of this side of the US until I come back. It's like I have all I want --- so much that reminds me of home, so much that reminds me of Madrid, so much in culture and cuisine in such a small space. I highly suggest to anyone that visits NYC to step out of the NYC box. Fuck seeing Trump Tower, fuck Rockefeller Center, fuck shopping, fuck it all. Go down to the old Five Points (Yes, from Gangs of New York and PS it's no longer the Five Points --- Take a walk down Mulberry. Sit on Baxter and Walter.) and see if you can feel old NYC like I did. Walk down streets you're unsure of. They're safe. Just walk. Walk into a restaurant whose cuisine you've never had. I ate cow heart and a Peruvian restaurant and it was delicious. Just walk. and keep going. I really know why people fall in love with Manhattan and all its beautiful communities with all its ups and downs. I love it.

Tomorrow I'm heading down into Princeton to see my Godmother. I'm slowly working my way down to Virginia with lots of other stops along the way. The more I travel the more I realize how much I hate Los Angeles. No wonder my boyfriend and I are so perfect for one another. We're travelers and we see the same things. We see that LA is bullshit. I wish he was here with me to experience what I am --- and I know he would. I miss him a lot right now but thankfully I won't be gone much longer.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Monsters and Trips


This is Kilo Monster, for those that are unaware of him. He's my boyfriend's dog that has become mine and if my boyfriend and I ever break up (which we're not, ever!) I am going to fight for custody of this dog because he will be miserable without me. This dog and I have been attached at the hip since Jamie and I first started dating. Apparently he was anti-cuddling and never wanted to be touched for very long and now that's all we do. We cuddle. He started hanging out with Sierra and now he cries like a bitch on the other side of the door when he's locked out. My boyfriend says I'm with him for the dog and not him. Which is not entirely true. I'm with my boyfriend for the dog AND his monster sized penis. God, he needs to get it right already if he's going to accuse me of such terrible things.

Anyway.

I'm leaving for a 2 week, guaranteed fucked up trip with my family to the east coast in 8 days. I sorta invited myself to mooch on to my parents trip because I have friends all over the east coast I want to see. It was originally going to be an east coast trip + trip to Madrid but it's just going to to be too hard to swing the two. I'm going back to Europe for my birthday, so that's fine. It's almost been a year since I've been to Madrid last. Time fucking flies. Then after purchasing my ticket I realized I will be without boyfriend and sleeping on friend's beds to get away from my parents and traveling by car for hours and hours all over the place, from NYC to Virginia and then back up and around again. The things I do to myself... And the reason why is simple. Food. I am traveling for food.

I have a few places that are MUST-STOPS that I will be fattening my liver with.

Melba's in Harlem. Known for their chicken and waffles. As seen on Throwdown.

Morimoto's in Philadelphia. Uh, owned by IRON CHEF MORIMOTO. This is his OG restaurant in the US. Ya. No need to explain anymore, do I?

Blue Duck Tavern in DC. My good friend Seamus recommended this place to me today, I immediately sent info over to my parents and we died at the menu. So, we're stopping here. Plus I don't want to hear shit from Seamus if I don't. Top 10 best hotel restaurants in the world, according to hotel magazine. We'll see.

Tony Luke's in Philadelphia. If Tony Luke doesn't have the best Cheesesteak sandwich I've ever had, then I will never trust Bobby Flay or Food Network again. Ever. I've been wanting to eat at Tony Luke's since I've seen it.

A Salt N Battery in NYC. After a very long, tiresome and unsuccessful hunt for Fish N' Chips in London, I'm hoping NYC has something better to offer. This place is known for it. If they fail me, I give up for life.

Junior's in Brooklyn. Supposedly best cheesecake in town. Yep.

Azucar Cuban Cuisine in NJ. YA. I'm going to be comparing everything to my abuela. We'll see about that.

... This is just a few. I have 30 more places to hit up.

I told my mom that in order to NOT gain a ton of weight, HELLO, I'VE WORKED FUCKING HARD FOR WHAT I HAVE, THANK YOU. ... We are splitting EVERYTHING. Literally everything. I am not ordering anything without sharing it with her and I plan on running every fucking day so long as it's not raining, I don't care how cold it is.

I guess that's it. I probably won't update until I'm either on the east coast or i'm back, unless something ridiculously awesome happens, because I'm a lazy pile of shit when it comes to blogging these days.

the rent is too god damn high.

Monday, October 18, 2010

Mouth Spoiled.

My life isn't all that interesting and I suppose that has been taken out on my blog. My blog has become a diary rather than ranting and raving. I have nothing to be upset about in my life, so I apologize for the lack of fun and/or crazy that has been missing for so long now. I'm happier this way. :)

This weekend, however, I feel like I should write about it. It's not so much interesting but more... how do I put this delicately... My mouth got fucked over and over and over and over again with delicious food.

Friday night my boyfriend and I went to Kiwami, owned by the Katsu-ya Group. This was hands-down one of the best sushi dinners I've had in a long time. This was more than sushi, it was fine dining and pure luxury in a nice date-night setting. We started with pan seared foie gras on top of kobe beef medallions. Perfect appetizer to start the evening. We ordered a bunch of sashimis (the best being the toro and the yellowtail), the spicy tuna on crispy rice was incredible, I ATE UNAGI which is saying a lot. I'm an equal opportunity eater and I always seem to end up with inedible unagi (eel, for those that dont know) so I've avoided it for years. This time it was more delicious. I don't see myself eating unagi anywhere else other than here. We had tempura soft shell crab with ponzu which was awesome. We also ordered seared albacore with shaved black truffles. Let's just say that I was in mouth-fuck heaven and I couldn't have been happier...

Then Saturday night came and somehow the BF and I ended up going down to the Grove with my parents to Ulysses Voyage, my favorite Greek restaurant aside from Papa Cristo's market in DTLA. Care of my parents we had lots of good booze and the consistently great food that Ulysses is. I think I've been to that restaurant 123098120938129083190 times and I will never get sick of it. Every time I go I leave happy, full and drunk, that's all I ask for.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Ranch Girl.


It's been a year and a half since I've been on the back of a horse. I forgot what it was like to be on a horse and just do whatever pleases you. I forgot how freeing that feeling is -- and I forgot how much I loved being around horses when it was just you and the horse and nothing between you. Today I got to feel that feeling again and I'm left with such an itch to ride continuously, but I know what's best for me --- for now -- and that's the occasional ride here and there.

My boyfriend has a ranch up old topanga canyon that's been in his family since the late 1800's. Fucking cool, right? Well, anyway, his uncle has 4 horses up there and today while we were up there for a family gathering, his uncle was trimming the feet on his arab mare (funny, his uncle is buddies with one of my old farriers) and i was holding her for him and we were chatting horses for a while. Then as he's done with her, he says, "ready?" and i'm like... Ready for what? And he says, "to take her for a ride?" lol. Of course I was ready, I am always ready. I mean, looking at me whilst in flip flops and nice jeans you'd think I wasn't... Oh, oh, but I was. and I did. Little brat of an Arab tried to test me and that didn't get her very far other than a heel in her gut which she wasn't too fond of. But then she realized she knew what I was doing, she gave up and we had a nice ride.

My boyfriend is cute. I saw him watching me ride from the patio area. I love that I could feel him smiling at me knowing I was happy. I love how we walk around his rugged ranch hand in hand. We pick grapes off the vineyards and eat them, complain that the avocado trees don't have any avocados ready, have staring contests with creepy cats with bright yellow eyes, sit on the ridge and watch the fog rolling in the canyons. I love being up there. I love that he and I love the same things in life. I also love that he grabs me by the face, tells me I'm beautiful and that he loves me.

Wanna know what I am? I am lucky, in love and couldn't be happier.

Friday, October 1, 2010

My eyes are emerald green when i cry.


I wish this picture could actually capture the true color my eyes turn when I cry. A camera phone during the bright of day just won't cut it. This is an older picture --- after one of my many meltdowns I've had over the past ... well... I always have meltdowns. My eyes get swollen --- from below my lids to the tip of my eyebrows. My eyes turn so brilliantly green that they could be mistaken for precious stones. I can't hide it, nor do I try to. I just don't like explaining why.

Sometimes a girl needs a good cry. Sometimes those cries come at completely inappropriate times, or are triggered by innocent things, but sometimes they're just necessary. There's no other way around it.

I have an ambivalent relationship with crying. Every time I cry I learn something new. Every single tear represents something. Whether it's about myself, someone else, life, it doesn't matter. Every time I learn I hold it and I never let go. I could probably recite every lesson learned for each tear I've shed in my adult years. Despite the growth in every last drop I hate knowing that I've had to cry to learn. I hate crying in it of itself. It's an ugly process. I mean, who actually looks good while crying? Who feels good when they're crying? HAPPY TEARS DON'T COUNT BECAUSE THAT'S NOT REALLY CRYING. Crying is from being stressed, overwhelmed, sad, broken, a lot of things but happiness is not one of them.

I cried recently. Unfortunately I learned things that I didn't want to learn. Now I'm here --- on my blog --- and even here I don't want to talk about it. Pathetic.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Rollin', rollin', rollin'. Keep rollin', rollin'. rollin'. c'mon.


I am a sweaty fucking asshole right now. This is photographic evidence that i am fucking sweaty. I SOAKED my gi. Like, completely and entirely soaked my gi. I thought I was sweaty on Monday night but tonight's class doesn't compare. Tues/Thurs are no-gi days and I don't get as sweaty now that I'm training regularly and not just some lard ass trying to train.

I've been training really hard lately. By really hard, I mean every day this week and I'm going tomorrow with Friday off then Saturday and possibly Sunday. I think I'm going to enter in a Grappler's Quest tournament within the next couple of months and my goal isn't necessarily to place, but to hold strong and not get tapped out right away.

I am so lucky to have have a friend who introduced me to brazilian jiu jitsu and i'm even more fortunate to be with a jiu jitsu gym that fucking kicks ass.

Tomorrow Donny (assistant trainer that does the warm ups) that we would be doing the gnarly circuit work that leaves me sore for 2 days. I need that since Friday night is my night off.

Now I'm just rambling about jiu jitsu. nice. I fucking love it.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Vegas.



(Thong bikini --- the boyfriend didn't approve so I kept the rear covered)


The BF and I went to Vegas for his birthday.

Penthouse floor in upgraded mini suite.
Non-stop margaritas.
People watching at the BRO-INFESTED pool.
Spago and Mesa Grill.
Other good foods at Venetian and Mirage.
REEL MILLIONS (favorite game of all time).
... Did I mention margaritas?

We had such a good time. I guess I can love Vegas... But only when it's with the man I love.