Lights Out, But Hello, Standard Tandoori

Tuesday evening I got home from the internet cafe up the road and found there was no power in my studio.  At all.  After knocking downstairs to see if one of my neighbours had power in her flat (nope), fretfully texting a friend (who seems to hear nothing from me but whines and whimpers), calling my letting agent and leaving a message on his phone, and damn near pouncing on the poor French guy in Flat #2 to grill him about whether the power was out in the whole block or just our building (about which I feel rather regretful for, and feel as if I owe him baked goods to apologise, the poor man), I went out in search for a flashlight to buy.

I didn’t find one, although I went to a number of later-night establishments, but I did wind up in the midst of a huge crowd that spilt out of Emirates Stadium, home of the Gunners (Arsenal, woot), who had a game that night.  So, I am in this mob of folks walking towards Islington, and, well, since I couldn’t really walk the opposite direction without feeling like a salmon trying to swim upstream, I had no other alternative but to go into an Indian restaurant.  Really, like an awning sheltering a poor head in a downpour, so did Standard Tandoori provide me with a shelter from the throng of football fans.  Seriously, I had no other option except to order tons of food and eat it all until my eyes started to cross because I was so full.

Truly, no other option at all.

The food at Standard Tandoori was great, and the service was pretty good as well.  I ordered garlic naan, which is a standard order for me in Indian restaurants.  Seriously, garlic naan is one of those foods I would take with me to a hypothetical desert island in my hypothetical suitcase that can magically produce only ten items of food ever.  The vegetable tikka masala, my first tikka masala, was a little sweet for my tastes, but the gobi bhajee, which is “lightly spiced cauliflower” according to the menu, was deliciousness.  There’s a large selection of vegetable side dishes, and upon reviewing the menu, I’m pretty eager to walk back down Holloway to see what their chana masala, vegetable curry and sag paneer tastes like.  With garlic naan, of course.

Anyway, when I got back to my flat that night full and fat with Indian food after the crowds went home or found pubs to situate themselves in, there was power back in my building.  Hooray!

Until around 1 am, when the whole block lost power.  And I was in the shower, in a windowless bathroom, when the power went out.

Joy.

The electricity came back on Wednesday afternoon, so I couldn’t really justify another night at Standard Tandoori, but at least in the future, whether or not I have electricity in my apartment or not, I know where to get good Indian food in my neighbourhood.  It’s not the closest Indian restaurant to me, funny enough, but it’s worth the walk past the Holloway Road Underground station.  I’ll save exploring the other Indian-style restaurants near me on a day when it’s raining or I’m feeling otherwise lazy.

Socialising at the Social Chameleon

I’ve been hanging out often with my friend and fellow single-lady Mollie, and on her birthday, we went to a place new to me: The Social Chameleon.  It’s a relatively new cafe open in what used to be an antique store, then a tattoo parlour, but it’s now a little place that Mollie describes as “a little Stardust,” not so much in character, but in purpose.  The Social Chameleon is a cafe in Orlando’s Milk District on Robinson Avenue, and they’re open until 2 am on Saturday, which has thus far been the only day of the week I’ve been.

This first time, Mollie and I had a birthday beer in honour of her birthday and enjoyed the cozy atmosphere of the cafe’s interior.  The decor is interesting and eclectic, with tiled tables and a very pretty ceiling treatment using scarves–it’s quite nice.  The staff at the Social Chameleon were very nice and chatty, and were especially familiar with Mollie’s friend (and my new friend) Ryan, who lives walking-distance to the place, and so has become quite the regular.

Mollie and I both chose the Nut Brown Ale from Peak Organic Beer, which was nice and smooth–perfect for fans of Newcastle.  Later that evening, I was thrilled to learn that, despite it being midnight, the kitchen was still open, so I ordered a simple plain cheese pizza on the traditional crust at the very reasonable price of $4.  It’s always good to have a list going on in one’s head of places to get food at late hours, and The Social Chameleon has gotten its name on my list.  In addition to pizza, the cafe also has some dips, a cheese platter and a few other edibles to choose from.  This also includes a few dessert items as well.  The following weekend, after leaving Peacock Room because I was craving a late-night Chameleon pizza, I ordered the key lime pie, which was a tasty treat at such a late hour.

I haven’t sat in the back patio area, but it looks to be a nice place to hang out and meet up with friends.  It’s nicely decorated with a wooden deck to keep it from feeling you’re in what used to be someone’s back parking lot, resplendent with little lights on string and a continuation of the cute decoration from the interior.

From my two late-evening experiences on two separate Saturdays, I’ve had good service, good food and good beer, enjoyed in some good company.  The Social Chameleon is a very cute corner tucked away on Robinson, and if you tire of the normal bar scene, it’s nice to go somewhere relatively quiet–although the folks inside may be watching episodes of Family Guy, as they were the last time I was there–serving up food late into the night.  It hasn’t been crowded at all the two times I’ve been, although this might change once word-of-mouth goes around.  The first night I was there, I bumped into my friend Libia, whom I hadn’t seen in an age, and she seemed to enjoy the place as well.

The Social Chameleon doesn’t have a website as of yet, from what I can gather, but the cafe is located on 2406 East Robinson Street, 32803.  The number that’s listed on their menu is 407-715-2138.  It’s a good place to start out your evening, as Mollie and I did on her birthday before heading out to Redlight Redlight, or to fulfill a pizza craving with something other than the choices available downtown.  I’m sure it’s also great in the afternoons, too, but I haven’t yet experienced it myself.

Eating after a sleep hangover

I took a nap sometime around 6:30 pm today, and woke at 8 in the evening, rather disoriented.  Sometimes after naps I have a “sleep hangover” in which I shuffle around the house aimlessly as the slow grip of sleep unfurls its tendrils from my brain.

I was hungry, and in the mood for Stardust or pizza.  Pizza was the winner, but not before I found out about Pom-Pom’s change in opening hours on the weekends.  Looking at their hours, it looks like they’re open for sixty-six hours straight from 11 am Friday until 6 pm Sunday.  For reals?!  Seriously?  I still thought they closed at 8 at night this whole time!

Oh man, now there is no need to deny oneself a Danny G craving at 4 am during the wee weekend hours.  You can just go!  I’m imagining all sorts of scenarios when I’m actually not being a homebody and going to Pom’s right after whatever late-night adventures: Pom’s after I-Bar, Pom’s after Redlight, Pom’s… after waking up from a late-night nap.

So, if you’ve got a hankering and can’t take another early morning at Denny’s or IHOP, go to Pom-Pom’s on Bumby and have a look at their menu.

A Food Lover’s Book of Days/Dining Alone

I’m on the cusp of completing my intermittent reading of James and Kay Salter’s book, Life Is Meals: A Food Lover’s Book of Days.  It’s a great collection of food trivia, tips, recommendations and personal anecdotes and recollections organised in a cozy package.  I checked out my copy from the Orange County Library, but it’s a nice little book to buy for your favourite food lover.

In the book, I particularly enjoyed becoming acquainted with the great stars of food history and gastronomy: Sylvester Graham, A J Liebling, Juliette Recamier, and Brillat-Savarin to name a few.  

I also liked the comments the Salters gave on “Solitary Dinners,” which I found interesting having had a few solitary dinners at home and out in the public.  Of the latter, I can find them at times pleasurable or awkward, depending on the eatery.  If I eat out alone, I prefer bringing along a book as company.  When I was in school, I would often read textbooks and highlight passages in-between bites, or I would work on a short story idea prior to my food arriving.  There have been a couple of rough, handwritten drafts of short stories and Japanese homework bearing the mark of the vinaigrette concoction from Stardust.

Nowadays, since I fix food more at home and am saving money for one thing or another, I don’t eat out alone as often.  In fact, perhaps the last time I did so recently was at Bikes, Beans & Bordeaux a few weeks ago. It’s a rarity now because money is so tight, so I don’t feel like indulging as much as I used to.  But, it seems, the best places to dine alone–at least in Orlando, but perhaps in general–are cafes and teahouses such as Stardust, Infusion, B3 and Pom-Pom’s.  Perhaps because the atmosphere is informal, you’re allowed the extra time to lounge and have an extra cup of coffee or tea, bottle of beer or glass of wine.  Taking out a book or opening up your laptop is accepted, unlike a “proper” restaurant, or even some diners.

Eating alone at home can be different as well, not so much in what you’re eating, but how you’re eating it.  It’s one thing to make a peanut butter and jam sandwich on a paper towel and eat it standing up over the counter, whereas eating the same sandwich off a plate at a dining table or even your coffee table with a nice cup of Earl Grey elevates it to a little ceremony.  As I’ve gotten older, I’ve found these little ceremonies enjoyable, and seem more fulfilling when the food is on a plate.  Granted, my dishes pile up a bit more with all the plates and mugs and tea strainers, but there’s a sense of giving the soul a little something to feed on as well as the stomach.  It’s a happy thing that makes simple meals that much more special, even more so when you don’t always have the time to eat in such a way.  Even take-out seems better out of the styrofoam and paper containers and on a real plate with real silverware, or even the plastic IKEA reusable utensils.  Yes, leftover pizza deserves a bit of dignity at times.  Because, excepting the street food sold in stalls and push-carts around the world–as some of the best food can be found with these vendors, if the food isn’t worth taking a moment and eating on a plate, is it really worth eating?

Crépes at the Food Court?

In my post about Bangkok’s Crépes & Co, I mentioned that there was a place for crépes at the food court in the Fashion Square Mall. Well, yesterday Hao and I went to La Creperia Café for a late breakfast.

I hadn’t been to the Fashion Square Mall in at least half a year, so it was interesting alone to be at there. We went up to the second level, where the food court and movie theatre was, and we scanned the food court shops for La Creperia. Hao spotted it, and, upon seeing the sign unlit and the menus lacking the hyper-illumination of most food court menus, I was dismayed. “Aw, it’s closed!”

“No, it isn’t,” Hao walked briskly towards the stand. “Look, there’s someone behind the counter.”

Sure enough, the place was open after all, but the design for the store seemed a bit out-of-step with the florescent glow all the other stalls were emitting. If it were a regular stand-alone café, though, it would be fine. We approach the stall, hunger mingled with excitement of new possibilities. I seize a menu lying on the counter, and my eyes widen with crépe possibilities.

In the end, Hao and I both opted for sweet crépes. I bullied him out of getting the Romeo y Julieta crépe with Nutella, bananas and strawberries, because that’s what I wanted, so he opted for the Evita, which consisted of dolci di lecce (or dolce de leche) and bananas. The two gentleman behind the counter, who were very helpful, made the crepes in a quick fashion, having the crépe skins already premade, which sped up the process to merely involve the preparation of the insides.

I watched the older man smear the dolci di lecce from a can onto the crépe for Hao’s Evita, and it struck me that the can could’ve been heated just a wee bit for easier spreading, as the consistency was akin to peanut butter you pulled out of a very cold fridge. Once it was finally spread around, he peeled an banana and plopped it whole onto the crepe, cut it into small pieces, then pushed the banana bits around to make it even across the crépe work area. He then folded it neatly into a sort of diamond, then flipped it over to cook a bit on the folded side. Transferring the crépe to a plate, the whole look was completed with some caramel syrup, powdered sugar and whipped cream.

Oh boy!

Mine had been already made, so I took the two crépes out into the sea of mostly empty chairs in the food court. It had shocked me at how empty the mall was in general, considering it was a Saturday afternoon. Hao was waiting for his coffee to cool, which didn’t really get cool enough to drink until after we had eaten, whereupon he found it a little bitter, like it had been sitting for a while.

The crépes themselves were fabulous, but the frustrating thing was that they were so hard to cut intowith the plastic utensils requisite for mall food. I was afraid I’d break my dinky plastic fork as I attempted to pierce the crépe exterior in order to get to its sweet deliciousness. And, oh, was it sweet. The Romeo y Julieta was decadent; I wound up not being able to finish all of it. Hao said his Evita was on the sweet side, too, but he was able to clean his plate.

I think the final verdict was that La Creperia made some pretty awesome crépes, but it’s probably best just to get them in a to-go package and take them home with you, unless you’re really into food court scenery. That way, you can use real dining utensils, as opposed to plastic, and your eating won’t be periodically interrupted by a blood-curdling shriek from a 4 year-old on the other side of the mall. La Creperia has savoury food as well, and I’d love to try one of those next. Early on, we were warned by one of the employees that the menu was going to be changed up, and that the prices on their website aren’t exactly the same as at the location in the food court, but if you’re in the area and in the mood for a crépe to take out, look at their menu, although the PDF file also mentions pasta, which may not be at their little location in Orlando, but more than likely at their bigger location in the Tampa area.