insomnia haiku

Return of the vermin

Ack. Mouse in my apartment AGAIN. 

Last time, as some of you know, my landlady acted as if I was crazy and/or attracting the mouse with my slovenly ways. Then she grudgingly bought me some glue traps and eventually sent someone to plug up the hole.

I lay the glue traps only to watch the mouse land on it and free itself ten minutes later. I scattered cotton balls scented with peppermint oil because I read that the smell repels mice. I bought one of those electronic mouse traps, and I have no idea if it worked or not, because I was too afraid to approach it or open it and see if there was anything inside.

That was months ago. I hadn't seen or heard anything in a while, and thought I was free. Idiot girl!

Today I heard rustling in my kitchen and... well, I don't want to get into the details, but I spied the mouse with my very own eyes. At first it peeked out from inside a Trader Joe's paper bag that was folded up and stashed between my kitchen counter/island and the wall, but then when I looked later, I saw it underneath the bag, so it obviously didn't have a problem climbing in and out.

I pride myself on having boy-ish tastes about some things -- such as liking sports and drinking beer and hating shopping -- but in many ways I am the stereotypical girl. Rodents FREAK ME OUT. My friends and I used to joke that in New York, there are five no-fail topics of conversation: transportation (the subway, how do you get from X to Y), the weather, real estate (renting an apartment, neighborhoods), throwing up in a cab, and vermin.

Granted, I don't have the "throwing up in a cab" conversation much anymore (note: I have never actually thrown up in a cab), but the rest of the topics are still going strong. Particularly the vermin one. (Insects count, especially roaches.) Any one who's lived in New York for any amount of time will be able to tell you some harrowing story of getting a little too close to nature in the comfort of their own home.

This does not make me feel any better. The thing is in my kitchen! The most important room of the apartment! So much for cooking dinner tonight. Or sleeping.

I put on shoes. I threw some of the old glue traps in the area, and some peppermint cotton balls, and the electronic trap. The next time I looked in the kitchen, I saw the mouse nimbly scamper across the glue trap like it was Jesus walking on water. To be fair to the glue traps, they are at least six months old.

I read online about a trap you can make with a bucket and a wire hanger and a toilet-paper roll, but as it turns out, I don't have the right kind of bucket for that. (Can't decide how I feel about drowning the mouse, either.) 

Then there's this one, which I'd heard about before: tall trash can, toilet paper roll balanced on the counter, bait. I'm a little skeptical since I don't love the thought of the mouse running around up onto my counter -- plus, if it doesn't work, I've pretty much given the mouse permission to stick around and use the counter as its playground. Or, it'll launch out into the middle of my kitchen floor, which sounds equally awesome.

And then, what if it does work, and I catch the mouse? I'll have to carry my hulking big trash can downstairs and down the block to release the mouse somewhere. No doubt someone will see me carrying my trash can down the street. I will look like a tidy homeless woman. And then, what would you think if someone released a mouse in front of your building? I'd chase after both the mouse and the releasor with a broom, is what I'd do.

So the trash-can trap has some drawbacks. Still, I'd run out of options, and this one didn't require my buying anything. So I set it up. It looks like this:

 
I then ran out of the room, ordered Thai food, and turned on the TV. Loud.

Will let you know what happens, if anything.

It's raining change! So why don't I feel rich? Plus: Food from the Left Coast

I've been meaning to post about my trip to L.A., San Francisco and Portland, but it's taken me a while, mainly because I don't have any "stories" to recount. I had a great time, though. Seeing friends and family, and going to Portland for the first time, and, of course, eating a lot, was restorative and relaxing. My parents barbecued for me. My nephew is uber-adorable, and I am proud to say that I fulfilled my auntly duties by teaching him to sing "Hello, Goodbye" (baby's first Beatles!). Portland's a very cool city. I saw a ton of old friends. People showed me immense hospitality and love.

That's about all I can think of to say about my trip, so I'm just going to post some pictures of food I ate and have done with it. But first, for those of you who don't know already, let me tell you about the newest wrinkle in the ongoing drama that is My Life in 2011.

On the morning I left for California, as I was waiting for the car service to take me to the airport, my landlady came outside. I'd already left her the rent in our pre-ordained spot on the radiator, explaining that I was paying it a few days early since I was going to be out of town on the first of the month. "I was going to give you this on May 1," she said, handing me an envelope, "but since you're going to be away, this is for you."

"Ooh, what is it?" I said. Present! Goody!

"You'll see," she said, turning and going back into her apartment. I was already tearing the envelope open. What could it be??

It was ... not so nice a present. The letter told me that my landlady would not be renewing my lease this August, as her daughter will be moving into my apartment.

Yes. You heard that right. Having moved just last year, with all the angst that entailed, I now have to look for another place and move. Again. While unemployed.

Awesome.

Need I remind you, it is not that easy to secure an apartment when you don't have a job, since, as I learned last year, realtors and landlords ask for paystubs and whatnot. Upon hearing of my dilemma, my mother, bless her kind and generous soul, told me, "We could always co-sign your lease for you. You know, like we did when you got your first apartment in New York." I love her for offering (and I may have to take her up on it), but I also have to laugh. So this is where I am again? Right back where I was when I was 23 years old? And if I have to be 23 again, can't I at least have that body back?

Ironically, seeing as how I was unemployed and had time on my hands, I had finally finished unpacking the last of the big boxes ... two days before. (Yes, it took me eight months. I am a terrible packer, but I am perhaps an even worse unpacker.) Well, at least I gained some valuable packing tips last time, and I have a lot less shit this time around, too. And I've got packing tape and markers! And ... um, yeah.

Sigh. I'm sure this will all turn out fine. Eventually. At least 2011 isn't a year I'll forget.

And now, on to the food pictures!

Tale of two fried chicken sandwiches: from Honey's Kettle in Culver City (first picture) and Son of a Gun in Beverly Hills (second picture)
My original intent was to do a comparison of these two fried chicken sandwiches plus the one at Naked Lunch in San Francisco; but the day I went to Naked Lunch, they didn't offer it. The winner between the two that I did eat was Son of a Gun's, as Honey Kettle's was a little dry. And for the record, although Son of a Gun's was good, it was by far eclipsed by their shrimp toast. Also for the record, the fried chicken sandwich at Van Horn in my neighborhood beats them both.

In-N-Out Double-Double
I took this picture because I was planning on doing an In-N-Out vs. Five Guys comparison, once the Five Guys in my neighborhood opens. But then Serious Eats beat me to it, and did such an excellent job that I'm not even going to attempt something similar. Plus, having made the soul-crushing error of going bathing-suit shopping while in L.A., I am currently on a "diet" that doesn't allow me to eat meat or fried foods for lunch, so Five Guys will have to wait. (Confession: I did have Shake Shack for lunch yesterday. But someone else paid! Only a crazy person or a vegetarian would pass up a free meal at Shake Shack.)

Grilled chicken and sausages at my parents' house
It makes me so sad that barbecuing can't happen all that much in New York City. (Maybe my new apartment can have outdoor space? Pleasepleaseplease?)

Lamb and eggplant sandwich at The Sentinel in San Francisco
Had lunch here with my friend Nelcie, at her suggestion. It wasn't quite what I was expecting -- I didn't realize the lamb would be ground, for one thing -- but it was pretty tasty.

Men fishing (for sardines, I think) in the Embarcadero in San Francisco
Note: NON-FOOD PICTURES AHEAD. I'll give you a moment to deal with the shock. Although presumably these fish will be cooked, so I guess they're food pictures after all. Whew. As you were.

Artisan Foie Gras Torchon* and Duck Prosciutto Sandwich at Naked Lunch in San Francisco
This is a serious sandwich. Serious as a heart attack. As in, I almost had a heart attack while eating it. I'm having a heart attack just looking at the picture again. I don't normally eat foie gras, but I made an exception in this case since the sandwich is so renowned; and while it is undoubtedly the richest sandwich I've ever eaten, it stops just short of being so rich that you can't gobble up the whole thing and secretly wish for more.

I made up for it by then walking from North Beach through Telegraph Hill to Fort Mason, which is two and a half miles covering some steep, steep hills. Did you know that there are no cafes or buses or anything besides residences in Telegraph Hill? And that you should never attempt to make that walk -- while wearing Tahari flats -- unless you are an idiot, a tourist, or an idiot tourist who just ate a foie gras and duck prosciutto sandwich?

*"Torchon" is a method of cooking in which foie gras is placed in a towel and poached. I would say I know this because I'm smart, but I only know this because I just looked it up.

Food carts in Portland (SW 5th between Oak and Stark)
New York has food trucks, but many of them are spread out and not all that easy to get to. (Nothing against Queens, but I'm not going there just for a food truck.) L.A. has a great food truck scene, as far as I'm aware, but I've only been to the Kogi truck. In San Francisco, we attended a pretty rockin' event called Off the Grid that gathers most of the city's food trucks in one place, and though it was so windy I thought I'd never get warm again, the food was terrific. (Chairman Bao pork belly buns OMG.) I could be wrong, but it just doesn't seem like New York has as robust a food truck culture as those other cities. Maybe because it's harder to park?

In Portland, they're not trucks so much as carts, and they don't move -- the carts are gathered in semi-permanent "pods" at parking lots around the city. One day that I was there, I was determined to hoof it to a bunch of different food carts and sample from as many as I could. I may have been a little ambitious. I made it to three. I had a bulgogi taco (below), a carnitas taco (not pictured but incredibly good -- these were some exceptional carnitas, and I've had a lot of carnitas in my life), and chicken and rice from Nong's Khao Man Gai (outright deliciousness). I was full well before the last sampling, but I powered through.

(Apologies, I'm working on my food porn. Sorry if that makes the food look like something other than actual food.)

Last note: While in Portland I visited the famed Powell's Books twice. It is heaven in a bookstore. I bought four books and had to tear myself away. Please support independent bookstores and order online from Powell's, rather than Amazon! End of public service announcement. Thankyouandgoodnight.