How a nice girl got Knocked Up

I saw Judd Apatow's much-anticipated follow-up movie this week and I was simultaneously rolling on the floor and closing my eyes in terror.

Clearly it had its laugh-out-loud funny moments-- the entire Vegas sequence. <3 Paul Rudd.

But at the same time, it was eerily familiar... and no, I am not preggers. But for some reason I could project myself and every hobbit-like guy I have ever crushed on right up there in front of my nose.

I do not want to have hobbit children!!

*panic panic*

What does this all have to do with food? I have no idea.

But I'm trying to find comfort in the 3 dozen cupcakes I am frantically baking for a housewarming party on Saturday night. Maybe if I bake fast enough, I can avoid the haunting images of Ben without his shirt on...

Red Velvet Cupcakes:

[insert recipe here]

Coconut Cupcakes:

[insert recipe here]

There's something about Wendy

Those bright, firey pig-tails. The sprinkling of freckles. The impish grin that just dares you to resist the calling of square burgers and Frosty delights. Simply irresistible.

I just so happened to catch an informative episode of Unwrapped on the Food Network last week about Dave Thomas's fast food empire. I've summarized it into a tidy outline here:


November 15, 1969: The very first Wendy's opens in Columbus, Ohio.

November 1979: The salad bar is introduced. Vegheads everywhere rejoice.

October 1983: The baked potato is added to the menu. Carbo-loading yuppies everywhere rejoice.

March 2005: A woman in San Jose, CA claims to have found a finger in her bowl of chili. This story is later determined to have been a set-up and the lady was sentenced to prison.

April 2005: A future food blog-ess is hired by UCSB's UCen Dining services. Her first assignment: man the nugget & french frier.

A smattering of fun facts:

*Wendy's burgers are "square because they don't cut corners."

*According to the takeout bag, "there are 256 ways to personalize a Wendy's hamburger. Luckily somone was paying attention in math class."

*One can get a Mystic-quality tan in less than 10 minutes working the French Frier & Hot Food station during the lunch rush.

*Freshly made Chicken Nuggets are the BEST hang-over cure.

*When aforementioned Chicken Nuggets are unavailable, the NEXT best hang-over cure are the mini-packaged saltines meant to be finger-food (sorry, couldn't help mah-self) for the chili...

So needless to say, Wendy and I have history.

I don't know who's decision it was, but there is NO Wendy's west of the 405. (There also isn't a Burger King within miles of my house, but I get more than slightly creeped out by the King.) I call this reverse discrimination and a travesty towards Westsiders everywhere and I will have it no longer.

Today's mission: visit the Wendy's nearest to the office located in Culver City within the designated 1 hour time frame. Can we do it? For the sake of my stomach, I hope so.

*45 minutes later*

Mission accomplished.


Not to sound like a walking (scrolling?) advertisement, but the latest thing at Wendy's is the Frosty Float. Gotta say, it was delicious, yet nothing spectacular. Just a standard Coke float. But maybe that was my fault because in my flustered rush at the drive-thru, I ordered vanilla instead of the classic chocolate flavor. Fresh out of the frier, the fries were perfectly salty golden goodness, which I devoured while speeding down Sepulveda.

Back in my corner cubicle, the dregs of the fries are staler than cardboard. *Sigh*

As my post-lunch coma sets in, I'm starting to think maybe it's all for the best that Wendy remains an ethereal Pan-like fantasy. I can remember far too many bleary-eyed Sundays when I would drag myself out of a warm bed to cross the expansive distance from dorm to UCen in order to make sure some other equally hungover soul got his 8 Jr. Bacons with Cheese.

Bienvenidos a Miami

If there is one thing that I am well versed to write about, it has to be food. I live for food. In fact, in recent months it has grown to a mild... er... moderate(!!) obsession. But that's not a bad thing, right? Food is important. Right.

Well, with that in mind, I've decided to channel my energies into something productive. Something far-reaching. Something... delicious. A food blog.

Brilliant.

For those few friends that I have yet to tell about my latest thrill. Here it is: The Delicious Life. My inspiration. Sarah, you've got a good thing going there. I hope I can live up to it. :)

So on to the first course! My very first post. It's always a difficult task to get started, but once I get rolling, there ain't no shutting me up. Unless you happen to have pie... mmm. pie.

My very darling friend, Emily, has just informed me of the premiere of the new season of Top Chef, happening this Wednesday. Admittedy, I have never watched the show, but I am a fan of Shear Genius, a sister reality/competition show on the Bravo Networks. She suggested we get together to watch it every week.

What's so special about this season of Top Chef, you might ask? One steamy word: Miami.

Miami. Home of the Hurricanes (the sports team AND the natural phenom), humidity, Gloria Estefan, all things Cuban-American and, most importantly, lil ol' ME.

So I have readily agreed to join the reality band-wagon. I will invest myself in the players. I will root for the underdog. I will scream at the judges when they make a bone-headed decision.

And I will play along. I've decided to *attempt* to put myself through the rigors of the Top Chef competition.

Crazy, you say? Why, yes, I am. But no one loves a good culinary pyrotechnic show more than I do...