spitsfrommylips-blog

[spitsfrommylips-blog]

Hey Happy Review

It was 11:37 AM when I finally tumble-weeded out of bed on a hot Saturday morning in August. Coffee. I needed coffee. The 7 or 8 flies buzzing ‘round my body told me it was time to take a shower. I lashed out at a singular beast that landed on my nose, but I only managed to agonize my face in the proceedings-I continued to swing to no avail. “Bastard! Die! Die!” It was never rational the venom that boiled through my veins for aviate scourges. Privately, I loathed cursing, but it was part and parcel of the show-the spectacle of my life as a desperado. Where did it come from? I inquired of myself in a moment of intimate rumination. The malice, the loathing for my fellow critters? And the inability to articulate what I was feeling without cussing-from what part of my black heart did it emanate?  “To hell with all of you!” I lashed out again. Too ambitious. I wiped the alcohol-free whiskey stained drool from my lips and preceded to the toilet. Relief, as my bladder granted me clemency. I grabbed a bar of black pumice Steele & Co. Soap, and strode into the shower-like walking through saloon doors-an activity I had performed mucho times always seeking approval from an expecting damsel but perpetually coming up empty. But, hey, I was happy.

I smelled liked tea tree oil and pine as I heaved on my boots. As I slated for the door, my eagle eye caught sight of a sinister headline: The Bad Plus Joshua Redman tonight only at Jazz Fest. Euphoria and horror permeated my leather brimmed dusty heart as I made haste for the local coffee dive. Ethan Iverson, the lone pianist of the notorious trio was coming to town. Iverson, an incessant Tweeter, and I had traded heated words over the merits of Robusta vs. Arabica coffee, not to mention the key of Giant Steps. As I loped down the street, I commiserated with my thoughts as to my predilection as a social coffee drinker and my inability to enjoy a good home brew. Was it the lack of a quality grinder? My technical inability as a barista? Or, was it the need to feel part of a community of caffeine believers. Had I become an espresso acolyte? An intermission in my reflections as I made my way through the backdoor of Hey Happy. At that precise juncture, Iverson, flanked by Redman and King ambled through the front doors. They seemed oblivious to my presence. I stared them down regardless, fanatical in my commitment to reclaim my Twitter honor. I knew Redman would wither, like a music critic who'd just been asked to play something, under the ferocity of my gaze-or was it muted confidence? His affectations announced an espresso prima donna, but I perceived cowardice. On this stage, King seemed aloof and he faded to the background-ostensibly more engaged by a Gizmo lunchbox. My only consternation was in my inability to perceive the whereabouts of crazy Reid Anderson. With his adroitly trimmed beard, slick rakish hair and long-fixed gaze, he disturbed me more than a nest of rattlesnakes. I observed the clock turn from 11:59 to 12:00 PM. It was high noon and time and chance had brought us to this wood, glass and steel bar top. 

Iverson adjusted his black framed nerd glasses. The last time I saw him he’d been wearing silver framed spectacles and I silently wondered why the change? He spoke, “Have you ordered sir?” “I haven’t”, I retorted. Games, the usual games. “So, here we are”, I countered. “Do I know you?” he parlayed. “Cut the existential amusements and just order!” He twitched. I squinted. He sniffled and blinked. I had him. “Espresso,” I asserted. “Good?” he proffered. “Best damn coffee in town,” I rebutted. He paused, and I caught a bead of perspiration-could be the suit. “Macchiato,” he uttered in perfect Italian. I had him. I laughed with ease and surety in the weakness I had just witnessed. I was The Bondsmen and I moved in to claim my prize. “Why don’t you order an Appletini while you’re at it?”

#heyhappy #coffee #thebadplus #ethaniverson #daveking #joshuaredman #reidanderson #victoriabc #bestofvictoria #bestcoffee #westerns #fan #narrative #narrativereview #review #spitsfrommylips #bestcoffeeintown #bestcoffe #thelegendofheyhappy

[spitsfrommylips-blog]

omNom choColate reView

“And another thing. Did you know that Iceland let their banks fail and they’re doing just fine?” 

Iceland this and Iceland that. Iceland, Iceland, Iceland!  

“Have you heard  Jón Þór “Jónsi” Birgisson?” 

Huh?

“Jonsi from Sigur Rós?” 

Yeah, I’ve heard of Sigur Ros and Björk Guðmundsdóttir and Monsters and Men-although if I never hear that trumpet line from Little Talks again, I’ll, I’ll…..look up Jonsi.

”How about Júníus Meyvant Iceland’s whitest hottest soul singer?”

 No!!!! Dammit!

“Here have a piece of omNom’s Icelandic white chocolate. I’m usually a dark chocolate fan, but this is made with Icelandic milk powder.” 

I bet it is. How about the cacao beans, are they from Iceland? 

“I don’t know, the ingredients only say ‘organic cacao butter’-nothing about beans.” 

Thanks, I know. 

“You’ve had it before?” 

No, but white chocolate is made only from the cacao butter, not the beans. AND CACAO BEANS DON’T GROW IN ICELAND! 

“Alright, alright, don’t get so uptight. Try the chocolate, it’s called Dirty Blonde. What do you think? Isn’t the packaging amazing?”

I haven’t tried the packaging. 

“I mean the design-you’re so funny today. So…the chocolate, how’s it taste?”

I don’t know, let me have another few pieces. 

“Mmmm, I don’t know, it’s $14 a bar.” 

What!? $14 a bar! It should be called Dirty Money or Blonde Gold! 

“Here, let the next piece melt in your mouth and taste the ‘sweet cacao silkened with creamy butter and caramel.’” 

Mmmm, it is good. 

“Yeah, I know right? Kind of like licking Bjork’s skin only better.” 

You’re a sick, sick dude. 

omNom instagram

omNom

#omnom #omnomchocolate #dirtyblond #whitechocolate #chocolatereview #omnomtasteslikelickingbjork

[spitsfrommylips-blog]

Foo + Foo Ramen Restaurant Review

Foo Ramen

762 Broughton St, Victoria, BC V8W 1E4 [phone]

Foo

769 Yates St, Victoria, BC V8W 1L4 [phone]

#victoriafood #foo #fooramen #besteats

[spitsfrommylips-blog]

Part and Parcel Restaurant Review

Upon entering Part and Parcel, one is immediately aware that an explicit amount of time and intention were spent in attempting to compose a small rectangular space into at least a parlour or suite. It’s cozy and quaint in an industrial chic meets DIY folksy home decor with a dash of knitting curation. Although pleasant, the seating is limited, adding to the exclusive anti-New York swank vibe-these folks definitely have time to mollycoddle their guests. Imagine if the Big Night’s anti-film star, Primo was left unfettered to pursue his culinary dreams married to a front of house arts and crafts impresario. 

There is no table service, so be prepared to wait in line-even though I’ve never waited more than 10 minutes. However, lines have been blurred and local legend has it that upon a hot July evening, a party of enthusiastic ladies, that were growing increasingly antsy while waiting to be seated for a birthday dinner, were approached by front of house staff and asked if they could furnish them with anything, clearly fracturing the tacit agreement of no table service. This cordial gesture resulted in apprehensive smiles and return of affection, making the night almost charming. When ready to order, customers are greeted by hip alluring people who are far too cute, almost kawaii, in their descriptions of the daily menu choices. The dineresque menu board is further elucidated in what appears to be a hand typed paper menu of rotating pastel and neon colours. Inspecting the Part and Parcel logo at the top of the menu, one cannot help but wonder what “handcrafted cooking” is and how this experience will diverge from other establishments that feature something other than “hands” cooking their food. 

The menu is divided into: sandwiches, salad, etc and sides. It is assumed that the choice to use etc is owed to typing fatigue from an old Olivetti, listening to Blue-Eyed Sally on a phonograph while sipping a Bee’s Knees or that the chef feels that mains or entrees are passé. Regardless, the menu is in keeping with the rustic chic milieu. 

Headlining Part and Parcel’s menu, is a fried kamut chicken, coleslaw, bread and butter pickles, bacon sandwich. It’s rumoured that folks rave about this item, but it’s just a sandwich and kamut, or King Tut’s Wheat, is a registered trademark of Kamut International. Ltd., so that the Quinn brothers could guarantee the quality of ancient Khorasan varietal wheat, wheat that is: free of breeding, genetic manipulation, is certified organic, blah, blah and etc… Given their penchant for soaring menu narrations I humbly suggest they call it the King Tut fried chicken sandwich embalmed with slaw, pickles and bacon. Although Part and Parcel seemingly prides itself on sourcing local organic and ethically raised products, the choice to use Kamut International products is an indication that they are not immune from the grasp of corporate America. 

Part and Parcel’s menuista obviously takes great pride in punctilious food descriptions, as observed in the choice to denote the use of Maldon salt in their seasonal rhubarb and chamomile salad. The Maldon salt company is “unashamedly foodie” and yet most customers, in a recent survey I conducted at the bus stop outside of the front doors of Part and Parcel, had never heard of Maldon salt. The adoption of trendy foods like farro, whose “exact definition is debated”, could have been clarified by specifying what precise wheat species, “spelt”, “emmer”, or “einkorn” was being utilized-sadly a missed opportunity in delineating the menu. Attempts at reaching the chef for a comment on the farro-and to see if he could pronounce “gnocchi” correctly-proved futile. He was probably foraging for daisies or what the menu refers to as “chamomile”. Had he been available for comment, he might have said something like, “I learned to use farro in Tuscany and it just tastes good. It’s probably emmer or true farro.” Yeah, no doubt. 

Etc continues with braised pork shoulder, summertime gnocchi and grilled octopus. The kitchen staff certainly look like they’re trying and their glowing foreheads are probably due to, pop quiz hotshots:

tenderizing the octopus

their halos

being hipsters 

operating ovens between 11:30-8:00pm in the summertime!

The final menu section, sides, is a passage into North Africa via France and their fried potatoes. French fries-ras el hanout & harissa mayo were an obvious choice for many patrons and they punctuated table tops throughout the restaurant. If you want to be more conspicuous, order the crispy fried chicken wings, honey, pickled chilies, scallions, and sesame seeds-it would certainly be the badass order to place as a side. 

Part and Parcel may not be the only restaurant that traffics in handcrafted cooking, or manages to put together a menu that looks like a winning scrabble board, but they certainly do it with a folksy panache and cook food that tastes like food only better. That’s why I’m giving them one full moon and highly suggest you frequent the joint before they go all corporate and franchise and stuff.

Tip: contrary to my privileged nature I will divulge that they make the best ring-shaped cake made of dough and sweet potatoes, sprinkled with sugar and cinnamon and then lightly fried that you’ve ever tried, with your bride, eat it and I’ll let it slide, give me a piece on the side or I’ll be fit to be tied, okay I lied, I’m not that fly.

Part and Parcel Twitter

Part and Parcel Website

Part and Parcel Facebook

Part and Parcel Instagram

Part and Parcel Hours: 11:30am - 9:00pm Closed on Sunday & Monday

2656 Quadra street Victoria, British Columbia [phone]

One full moon = highest recommendation

#part and parcel #restaurant #review #victoriafood #localeats #bestofvictoria #best places to eat #besteats #bestplacestoeatinvictoria #topeats