Moon Cakes and margaritas.

In keeping with the general theme of self-indulgent reflections and musings on my life that has given birth to this blog, the countdown to my birthday consisted of reminiscing of birthdays gone by. For me, birthday celebrations have always been about family and good food. My mom would always cook something wonderful, per request of yours truly. Whatever she decided to make, she always made a pot of mi-yuk gook (Korean seawood soup eaten on birthdays and postpartum) And it would always be served on the "good" china - the kind that was kept in the china cabinet and saved for special occasions and special guests. (My mom placed a lot of importance on what I ate off of. To this day, I can't eat out of a box, a jar, a pot or a pan.) This year was a little bit different.

On the eve of my birthday, my roomie, C and her HKT surprised me with a homemade taro moon cake and Halloween shortbread cookies. It was only appropriate. October 3rd was the Moon Festival in China and Chuseok in Korea. The "Happy Birthday" Song was sung and candles were blown out.



In the hopes of running into Ian Ziering (remember "Steve" from "Beverly Hills, 90210"??), C, BP and I had breakfast at the Griddle on Sunset. (Apparently, he's a regular here. C saw him here on 3 separate occasions.) Unfortunately, Steve never showed up. But they had really good French pressed coffee and your typical American breakfast foods, on CRACK.


Now what I'm about to say would be considered blasphemy in the U.S. of A., land of milk and syrup, but it must be said:
I hate breakfast foods.
Eggs, bacon, hash browns, pancakes... I'd rather eat a steak. And on occasion, I have. But on this special occasion, C and I decided to share banana pancakes and a Tex-Mex egg dish called "The Caballero." I only wish I had known that the pancakes came with an ice cream scoop-sized dollop of butter and a shower of powdered sugar. The best part about The Caballero? The fresh tortilla chips.

This was BP's breakfast. Yea right.

This was BP's breakfast. Nutella with a side of French toast. Little did he know that it would make an encore appearance later that day.


BP and I then took a drive up to Santa Barbara, where we walked around State St. Hoping to get me in a more celebratory mood, he suggested we take shots. It was 3 PM. We compromised and ordered some margaritas and chips and salsa at a nearby cantina. I ordered a margarita blended with real grapes, while BP decided to be uncharacteristically adventurous and ordered a "mango-rita." (Note: BP's more of a beer/ Hennessy drinker) I thoroughly enjoyed my mid-day snack, but the mangorita would later come back to bite BP in the ass.


Hoping to indulge the foodie in me, BP had made reservations at Bouchon - a charming Santa Barbara-inspired French restaurant that prides itself on using local ingredients and local wine. On the menu, there were heirloom tomatoes, microgreens, blood oranges and Kobe rib-eye. "Indulge" would be an understatement. By this time, BP's face had lost its color.


Once again, continuing to be uncharacteristically adventurous, BP wanted to order escargot for starters. I had had escargot before and tried to explain the texture and taste to him. He seemed eager to try. Escargot and pearl onions sauteed in white-wine, butter and garlic - served in a puff pastry tower with organic watercress. One bite and BP developed an aversion. (Note: BP eats pretty much ANYthing.) I, on the other hand, loved the combination of flavors, and finished most of it. BP had to excuse himself and go to the little boys' room.


BP ordered the sea bass, served on a bed of yellow and green squash "trumpets" and fennel-roasted fingerling potatoes. One whiff of it, and BP was officially sick. All of the day's good eats came back to haunt him. In reverse.


Despite all of the mouthwatering creations on the menu, I could not pass up the Kobe rib-eye served with braised broccolini, on a "hash" of potatoes, red peppers, onions, butternut squash and applewood-smoked bacon. But poor BP... even hot water with lemon and 7-Up couldn't relieve his upset stomach. After just a bite, we asked the waiter to pack up our food and headed back to LA. (We eventually did get to enjoy all of it later on, back at my apartment.)


On the drive back down to LA, I had a disconcerting feeling. There had been no mi-yuk gook served in fine bone china. There were only phone calls: a surprising one from my brother (who had either remembered my birthday or had received instructions from my mom); a cheerful one from my mom (who was happy that I had someone to celebrate my birthday with); and a disappointing one from my dad (who had called for a completely different reason and apparently did not realize that it was my birthday).

I don't know if there will be any more birthday celebrations served on my mom's china. I'm hoping that there will be, some time in the near future. But for now, I am beginning new traditions and creating new memories.