A place to blather on about things that catch my eye, nomz I like to nom, and music that makes my ears happy.
Back home in the motherland for the boyfriend’s birthday trip, and loving the unmistakably laid-back vibe of the North Shore. I’ve never stayed out here before (a beachside condo walking distance from the Waialua Sugar Mill and a quick ride to Haleiwa) and except for the loooooong drive to see any of my relatives, it sure beats the (relatively) big-city bustle of Honolulu.
A few quick snaps: Pork hash from 7-Eleven (one of my trashy-food weaknesses), a drink I invented made from muddled lilikoi + guava juice + rum, and sunset at Magic Island on our first night here.
The week is, of course, flying by, but we’re definitely making the most of it. Already got the requisite day-one burn, had plate lunch from a roadside food truck, and ventured up to Manoa and Waialae Ave. for foodie/drinkie-ness. Morning Glass and Brew’d (Korean pork taco special last night…ermahgerd) were two of our stops, and then we got hyper-caffeinated at Cafe Laufer before catching the last of the sunset at Diamond Head.
There may be a scene at the airport when I’m forced to go back to the mainland.
Paper art by Lydia Kasumi
Going to need about 20 of these to decorate my kitchen:)
Celebrating my fella’s 30th birthday (!!!) with a trip to the motherland tomorrow, so I’ve spent the weekend making up recipes to clean out the fridge/pantry/freezer. Sweet potato poutine (I can’t get behind it because of my firm belief that sweet potato fries are simply WRONG, but the homemade mushroom gravy and fried eggs I put on top sure made it hipster worthy), garlicky meatballs with wild rice and veggies, all manner of smoothies, and this. This glorious paean to vegetables. This bubbly, crisp, mess of stuff from my garden and produce drawer. The copious amounts of cheese put this pizza off limits for my dairy-averse digestive system, but the birthday monster devoured it literally (this) morning, (again at) noon, and (late last) night.
My boyfriend is better than yours. Period. After a long workday, a tough workout, and a bit of a haul way north of the city to visit my nephew, he tells me there’s freshly baked bread and pizza waiting for me for dinner.
The bread, which we enjoyed with olive oil and dipping spices, was dense and chewy, juuuuuuuust how I like it. And that’s basalmic-marinated chicken on top of the pizza — a perfect compliment to the slight carby-sweet crust and salty olives. You’ll also notice there’s very little cheese here. That’s because the chef knows that dairy can send my stomach into a revolt so disturbing, so earth-shakingly violent, that it can rouse me from a deep sleep.
So yeah, I rest my case.
Paper art by Elsa Mora aka elsita on Etsy
As my friend Arthur would say, “STUN. GUN.”
This is like a pop-up storybook for adults. I swoon.
Aakash Nihalani used tape, fluorescent paper, corrugated plastic and magnets to make colorful bars that appear to pass through people, symbolizing “both the isolation and community” that he feels living in Brooklyn.
Having a hard time believing this isn’t photoshopped…but either way, it’s pretty awesome.
Stairs leading to San Juan de Gaztelugatxe. Photographed by @sdpnt. #gaztelugatxe #sanjuan
The winners of the seventh annual iPhone Photography Awards (IPPAWARDS) were announced this week, and we can’t believe that photos as beautiful as these were taken on an iPhone.6.18.14Amazing.
I know I’m not the only person who gets obsessive about one song and plays it over and over (moderation not being my strong suit, I will admittedly do this 15-20 times a day, for days on end, if it’s a ditty that REALLY has its hooks in me). Either looping it in a one-song playlist on my iPod, or hovering over the “replay” button if I’m on my laptop, I’ll sometimes indulge myself in this type of music-immersion if only to rid myself of the demon. (Not unlike the approach of forcing a child to smoke a whole carton if s/he is caught smoking a cigarette.)
Anyway, when this oldie but goodie inexplicably crept into my consciousness a couple of days ago, I was more than happy to get swept up in the 90s power ballad-ness of it. One quick Youtube search later, I was back under the rainbow shower trees behind the chapel of my high school, sporting a Wet Seal-meets-Gap ensemble and waxing (quasi) philosophical with my girl gang. I’ve been caught up in nostalgia since Monday afternoon, singing/humming along with the video while doing my best Geoff Tate impersonation.
Of course, preoccupation with a song typically doesn’t end at just listening to it repeatedly. We then have the Internet research. What are the actual lyrics (very important for a lyrics butcher like myself who only discovered five years ago that Dave Gahan was saying “Reach out and touch FAITH”)? What does the song MEAN? What is the band doing now? Well, I found the answer to the last question on a Seattle Times blog. Apparently, they split into two warring factions, battling over the rights to the Queensryche name. How VERY hair band of them! I’m so glad my 1991 self resurfaced in all her awkward glory to take me on this welcome trip down memory lane.