susan "2 Cups and a Girl" c.'s Profile

Pink Olive is a cute little shop for baby presents, but not so cute you wanna barf.

I had to buy gifts for a couple of friends who are preggers. I thought about buying them each a "Je t'aime NY" onesie ($32) but decided that wasn't clever enough. So I opted for the designer spoof onesies (witty riffs on couture labels): Hermèss and Pradada ($32).

The sales staff wrapped my gifts in tissue paper and bagged them separately. However, I'd have thought for the prices they charge and the meticulously thought-out vibe of the place, the wrapping and shopping bags would be better. (Compared to the merch, they look rather cheap, so I may have to rewrap and rebag.)

The store also carries styley baby threads that I covet in larger sizes for myself. Vintage home furnishings, nice-smelling soaps, and letter-pressed stationery round out the yuppie must-haves on offer in the shop.

Despite some price inflations, I really like Pink Olive. It's the kind of store that gives me a smug satisfaction that I'm buying a clever gift--even if it's not meaningful or especially useful for the recipient. I know that's not what gifting is all about but, hey, self-absorbed bitches like me gotta have something to compensate for our empty wombs.

Why is it so hard to find a good soft pretzel in New York? Those cold, flaccid dough-knots peddled by the dirty-water dog vendors around town just don't cut the mustard.

But yay! This new shop in Alphabet City has just opened up to keep the NYC pretzel from languishing in obscurity--or a foil-lined tray of old coarse salt for days on end, as it were.

$3.00 for a salted or seeded (poppy or sesame)
$3.50 for gruyere-paprika; jalapeno-cheddar; or caramel-pecan
$7.00 for pretzel sandwiches like bresaola-arugula
The price includes your choice of one dip.[1]

I chose the classic salted pretzel with whole-grain mustard. While the interior dough is chewy, I would've enjoyed the pretzel more if it were hot, and crusty on the outside; a 3.5 but I'll round up because I'm a sucker for cute spaces and because Sigmund is filling the soft pretzel void in the Big Apple previously occupied by Auntie Anne's.[2]

The shop has a few tables and seats so you can sit and watch the pretzel-chick in a snood twisting pretzels behind the plate-glass window.
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[1] 50 cents for each additional dip: whole-grain mustard, honey mustard, beet-horseradish mayo, herbed cream cheese, goat cheese, Nutella
[2] Sorry but an NYC nosh should not be represented by mall food!

I'm not one for boozy brunches or paying $20 for eggs but I'm loco for Poco!

I went there for brunch and was surprised to have just a ten-minute wait at 1:30 on a Sunday.

So much to like about brunch at Poco:
- All You Can Drink mimosa, sangria, Blood Mary, coffee/tea with brunch entree for $22
- A generous bread basket of really delicious multi-grain and pain de campagne, and mini carrot-bran muffins arrived as soon as we sat down.
- Our awesome waitress, whom I liked so much I didn't mind that she opened with the clichéd, "Hi, my name is Anastasia. I'll be your server." Anastasia busted her left nut to keep everyone happy and cheerfully refilled my mimosa flute without prompting.
- Reese's Pieces pancakes[1]
- Water served in jelly jars with snipped straws
- The oozy poached eggs in the Poco Benedict (a Latino-fied eggs Benedict on arepas w/ Manchego cheese, chorizo, and pimentón hollandaise)
- Mesclun salad and potatoes come with each brunch entree

The few things I did not like about Poco:
- Madonna and Britney blaring at volume 11; a pain in the ears when you're trying to catch up with an old friend
- I probably would not want to be seated in the dark, dank basement; the upstairs is much brighter and airy
- The crowd at brunch who looked like they missed the last Path train back to Jersey the night before[2]  
- The arepas were a bit too sweet and the pimentón hollandaise sat in my stomach all day like a trout in a parking lot.

BOTTOM LINE: A terrific deal for a drink-your-face-off brunch fiesta; eat more bread and less hollandaise
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[1] The day's special; I didn't try it but I like that they don't take themselves too seriously.
[2] But after a Bloody Mary and two mimosas, I stopped being such a judgmental asshole.

The Guggenheim's permanent collection may seem like mouse testicles compared to the elephant-ball troves of the Met and the MoMa but I enjoy coming back for its special exhibits which in and of themselves are worth the price of admission ($18). The Kandinsky retrospective is wow wow wow and is on till Jan. 13, 2010.

(Or if you're a starving artist[1], wait till Saturday night and you can pay what you wish for a ticket. Don't be deterred by the line around the block on PWYW nights; it moves fairly quickly.[2])

Make sure to get the free audio guide. The one for the Kandinsky special exhibit is especially good. They managed to hire a voice actress with a very convincing Russian accent that doesn't sound like Natasha from Rocky & Bullwinkle. (If only my Art History 101 prof were this engaging, I wouldn't have snoozed through all those slideshows.)

I like the logical progression of the pieces as you ascend the spiraling ramps of the Guggenheim. Even if you don't like the art on the walls, Frank Lloyd Wright's iconic architectural design is a must-see.

Museums are wonderful places to ponder art; think about it critically or enjoy it for what it is...but on my recent visit some flatulent philistine momentarily ruined it for me by giving an anal salute[3] on Rotunda level 2. Thanks, asshole.
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[1] or well-fed cheapskate
[2] 5:45 pm to 7:45 pm; if you're walking west towards Fifth Ave. come up 88th St. to join the end of the line.
[3] gave a whole new meaning to the term, "artsy-fartsy"

Throughout the continental U.S. and major cities around the world, squirrels come in one shade and one shade only; a rather insipid grayish taupe[1].

In Toronto, however, the color spectrum of squirrels is like a muthaflippin' rainbow.
So far, I've spotted:
- the ubiquitous black squirrels in every neighborhood
- chocolate-brown squirrels on Ward's Island (so friendly, they practically climb up your leg)
- black squirrels with caramel-colored tails in Grange Park (my faves)

I still have yet to catch sight of the elusive white squirrels of Trinity Bellwoods Park. They're not albino but have some kind of genetic aberration so they have white fur but not those freaky red eyes.[2]

I never really liked squirrels anywhere else but I heart the squirrels of T-dot! They're the kind of nut huggers I don't mind seeing.

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[1] Or "heather sandstone" in a J. Crew catalog
[2] http://www.flickr.com/...

Really? Am I gonna get FTR on this?

All righty, here goes:

How can you not like a burrito joint that has Dita von Teese 2.0 and a masked Burrito Gimp serving up chicken chow mein in whole wheat tortillas?

Great to meet some Yelpers I hadn't met before (RJ P., Margs L., Maureen P., Kelly O., Connie T., Helen "I knew she's Asian" L., Vivian V., Noel D., and Carolyn "not scared of susan c. any more" B., Aeryn L., Devan "finally!" R., Melinda M., Jon S., Junichi Z....oh, crap, this is gonna be like one of those Oscar acceptance speeches where I forget to mention someone...)

The fluorescent lighting was harsh but the vibe was sexy mild. So much fun! And yes, I am drunk-Yelping.

That is all.

[EDITED TO ADD NEXT-DAY SOBERED-UP COMMENTARY]
- Awesome service from the burristas, va-va-va-voom von Teese lady, and masked Burrito Gimp who went out of his way to hand-deliver a yummy chicken-chow mein burrito to me.
- Keg-pumping Lady, thanks for keeping my plastic cup o' suds full.
- Dave "beer savior" O. -- You da man!
- All the peeps I got to chat with -- I heart you. (You know who you are.)
- Kat "Bestest CM EVar!" F. -- Luv that Yelp Elites got the sneak preview before Chino Locos even opened. You sure know how to throw a hella fun party, boss lady!

This was an impromptu stop on the Epic Suburb Crawl*. I'm not from around these parts so I don't know if this house is in Markham or Scarborough or Sault Ste Marie. All I know is that Neil's parents live in the 'burbs.

It's a nice house with one of them big freezers the size of a casket[1] in their kitchen. Overall, the residence is clean and free of odors. And their guest bathroom is completely deuceable[2]. They even had plush toilet tissue in the loo roll. Classy.

Alas, we didn't get to meet Mama and Papa T. We did, however, meet his brother. Nice guy[3].

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[1] Now that I think about it...what ARE they freezing in there?
[2] Another word coined by Neil T. (pending entry in Urban Dictionary)
[3] Complete opposite of Neil T.
*http://www.yelp.ca/eve...

If Pacific Mall is a slutty teenage Attention Whore[1], then First Markham Place would be its sensible and more demure sister[2]; it's definitely less trashy, more classy. We stopped here while on the Epic Suburb Crawl because we had some time to kill before dinner at Rolling Pot.

This mall is more spacious and less crowded. It does not induce headaches or eye strain. If I lived in the area, I could actually envision myself coming here to sample dried fishy treats at Ding Dong Snack Shop and get a quick bite in the food court. Maybe even pick up some bootleg DVDs[3] from one of the many video stores.

It even has a movie complex with 10 theaters.

Clearly, it's better than its skanky counterpart.

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[1] Yelper Andrew "look at me!" L.
[2] Me
[3] If I understood Cantonese or Mandarin

I don't like crowds.
I don't like noise.
I don't like malls.
This is a noisy, crowded mall.

I've never been confronted with so much merch yet had so little desire to buy anything--especially when every fourth store sells the same stuff: eyeglasses, cell phones, and questionable electronics. But I suppose I'm not the target customer.

That would be the hoards of Asian teeny-boppers that were mobbing this place on a random Saturday, perhaps drawn to all the sparkly objects under the harsh fluorescent lighting. The sensory overload is seriously enough to induce a grand mal(l) seizure in some folks.

Oh, I forgot. I did buy something here; fresh watermelon juice from a bubble tea vendor on the second floor where the food court is located. But I probably didn't need to travel 30 kilometers to drink a $3-cup of watermelon juice.

TIP: Do not attempt to look for the Chinese-Canadian man missing from your party. You will never find him in the sea of Asians at this mall.

This J-Town is so small, it should be called J-Village or J-Burg--maybe even J-Hamlet--but certainly not J-Town.

Where are the usual J-Town fixtures like the Japanese dollar store, roasted chestnut vendor, and teahouse evoking Memoirs of a Geisha?

I guess this Japanese mall is a reflection of the Japanese population in the Toronto area; practically non-existent. But if I were the perfect Japanese housewife, I suppose I'd make the rounds at:

Famu "Natural Meats, Japanese Cuts" for Wagyu beef and organic pork
Sakana-ya for live uni, toro, and some kind of small red fish that goes for $80/lb
Heisei Mart for 20 kinds of miso, Japanese curry cubes, and a gazillion bottles of Japanese condiments

Or I could just be lazy and feed my family prepared foods like the potato croquettes, Hamburg steak, and sushi combos.
Then pick up some eclairs and strawberry shortcakes from Bakery Nakamura.
Indulge myself in a haircut at Studio T, and browse the book and video selection at the Japan Book Centre.

And because all that shopping would make me hungry, I'd refuel with an offering from the oden lady out front who sells skewers of fish cakes from a big steaming kettle.

That would be the perfect day in J-Town.