Merry August 17th.

It was so effing hot yesterday that there was no way I was going to even attempt cooking dinner. So I called up Ben and Julie and asked if they wanted to go get sushi. We piled into my car at 6:00 and drove over to Tokyo Seoul, and remembered once we pulled into the parking lot that they're closed on weekends. The next goal was to go over to the new Thai restaurant in Moscow, where that really shitty place called Archie's or something used to be. They've got sushi, or they will, eventually. Julie, Toria, and I tried to go there once a couple months ago, only to be met with an empty bar and "We don't serve sushi on Mondays." WTF?

Since it was Sunday, we decided to try our luck. When we got there, a sign on the door read, "Sushi bar will open Wednesday, 8/19/08" (yet further proof that this Wednesday is going to be the best day of the summer). The waiter came out to tell us what was up: The chef is on vacation and he's coming back by Wednesday, and after Wednesday the bar will be closed on Mondays and Tuesdays, until another chef gets hired in which case they'll be open every day of the week. Things might change a bit in the winter, though, because he buys his fish from Seattle and there may be occasions when he can't get across the pass. So now you know.

That last part totally satisfied me, because I like knowing where my food comes from (thanks, Julie & the Trouts). Although I hope this guy's rig has some serious refrigeration capabilities, because 5 hours is a long time for raw fish to be hanging out in a car. I have faith, though, that this restaurant is not trying to slowly but surely kill off all of the sushi lovers in the Palouse.

So, armed with a wealth of knowledge regarding this new restaurant that managed to still disappoint us, we decided to trek over to Uniontown and eat at Eleanor's.

If you have never been to Eleanor's, shame on you. Sure, Uniontown is po-dunk and you can drive through it faster than you can say, "This town is smaller than Colfax," but it's a really nice little community AND... it's got Eleanor's!

My favorite thing about Eleanor's is the sign on the door that says you can't bring your firearm inside. Or, it's the free, homemade chips that get plunked down on your table, begging to get snacked on. Or maybe it's how nice the staff is, giving us free beer to try and interjecting comments in the most good-natured way. Actually, it's probably just the burgers. NOM NOM NOM.

When Julie, Ben, and I got there, we sat at the table by the air conditioner (the only table I've sat at, actually), sipped our beers and watched pre-season football on the TVs while we waited for our food. During this time, I grabbed a Christmas coloring book and these jumbo crayons, which were probably two inches around, and prepared to pick out a page. The guy working hollered from the kitchen, "If it's really good, we'll put it up on the wall!" We all laughed, and Julie said he was placating me, in the nicest way possible: "Notice how there are no other drawings on the wall?" Nonetheless, I picked what I deemed a "good" image, and set to work.

Ben told me I should put it on my office door, which I was totally prepared to do. After I colored the bear, sitting in a stocking wearing a striped Santa hat, I wrote, "By: Lauren Clark!" in the bottom right corner. Yes, last name and ex point included. Then I added, "Merry August 17th" near the top and a "We <3 Eleanor's" underneath.

But, like a hawk who'd spotted a mouse, the guy nabbed my drawing and tacked it up behind the bar. I was SO EXCITED. It is much better off hanging up at Eleanor's than it would be on my office door. Julie had me take a photo of it with her phone to show the blogging world (or, you know, whoever reads this):

So, if you ever find yourself meandering toward Uniontown, make sure to stop in at Eleanor's. The food is amazing and the atmosphere is cozy, and they hang my drawings on the walls. So get over there, order a burger, and say hello to my Merry August 17th bear.

BB 5: Om Nom Nom

You win some money and decide to open a restaurant. Looking at the local phone book, there are already over a hundred restaurants in the area. How will yours be different? What will make people flock to your restaurant?

I'm late on my own prompt: how embarrassing.

The thing is, I wanted to create a mockup of my restaurant but it proved to take waaaay longer than I'd expected, so I'm just going to give you what I have and verbally describe the rest.

First off, my restaurant will be in Seattle. This is because, well, I want it to be there. What else can I say? And my plan is so off the wall that maybe I'll find a little niche of loyal customers. But first, I'll need a big city with lots of people and I don't want to leave the Pacific NW.

Second, I think I'd like to call it La 食糧 Deliciosa. "WTF?" You might say. Well, my restaurant will serve both Japanese and Spanish food. Not together, mind you; this isn't some weirdo fusion restaurant that serves paella topped with unagi and masago (even though my name is a hybrid that reads simply "The Delicious Food"). This is two restaurants in one.

Basically, Japanese food is my most favoritest food EVER. And I obviously have an affinity for good Spanish food, and it's always so hard for me to find either that adequately satisfy my cravings. I love Sushi Land of course, because they know what people like and they always use very fresh fish: every Sushi Land I've been to has served perfectly fine sushi. And you can't argue with the price. Spanish food is a bit harder to come by, I believe, because it hasn't turned into a cultural fad amongst the type of people that lives in the Pacific NW. But this past weekend I was at home on the west side and I went to this Spanish restaurant in Portland called The Maiden. It was pretty good, and the price was decent, but some of the mussels were off and they poured vinegar into the oil for the bread and the ceviche was so stupidly spicy that we had to send it back. (Other than all that, it was a good experience.) Therefore, I'd like to get some native, world-class cooks up in my restaurant to blow everyone away.

The layout is where things get a bit tricky. I mentioned I want two restaurants in one, which means I want an area where the Japanese food is served and an area for the Spanish food. But I want people to be able to experience both places, whether they start with tapas and move over to nigiri, or have some sake early in the evening and then take off for a pitcher of sangria. So, the two areas will be separated, but connected with a moat. And to get from one part of the restaurant to the other, you'll have to get into a little gondola and ride across the moat. At each end of the moat there will be dramatic, theater-type curtains pulled back, welcoming you into the other half of La 食糧 Deliciosa, and you'll step up out of the gondola and pick your seating.

(Yes, I realize gondolas have nothing to do with this setup. I just like them. Why have a moat, too? Because that's cooler than a walkway. Okay, fine, there will be a foot path as well. But traveling by gondola would be way more fun, and you know it.)

The decor of my restaurant will be the same on each side. This is the mockup I've created.

(Please click on the image to see it full size and with the proper colors. Why do browser eff with the color of images? Whyyyy?)

Essentially, I decided that I wanted really unique chandeliers and striped gold and maroon wallpaper. I found that chandelier image online a while ago, fell in love with it, and have since come back to grab it for my restaurant. I love it because chandeliers are beautiful and classy and scream wealth at you, but this one is fresh and hip and kind of kitschy. It was a BITCH Photoshopping out all of the white of the background between the beaded bits. But it was worth it.

Then I found those chairs. God, how I love those chairs. (If you can't guess, they're from Ikea.) At first, I planned to use something like this:

Because, how cool would it be to eat at a restaurant where you sit on a chaise lounge like that?? (Okay, this is actually called a fainting couch and it's from Urban Outfitters, but it's sort of chaise-loungey.) In fact, in my dream world, I would have both: the couches in place of traditional booths and the chairs as opposed to regular, boring restaurant chairs. And yes, I fully realize how much square footage I'll have to purchase in order to house all of this oversized furniture. But I'm okay with that, because it's MY dream!

The floor will be hardwood, cleaned twice a day, so if people want to walk around barefoot or something, they can. Maybe I'll make little booties available so you can slip out of your heels and put your fleeced feet up on our chaise-lounge-fainting couch. That sounds nice.

The decor will be the same in both halves of the restaurant, as I mentioned, but the tables will be unique to each area. I would like to put in tables that are colorful and bright, to match the chandeliers. Therefore, the tables will be inspired by my favorite artist from each country: Takashi Murakami in the Japanese half of the restaurant, and Antonio Gaudí in the Spanish half. It would be sooo awesome to have Murakami flower bomb tables:

And tables inspired by the Serpentine benches at one of the coolest, most interesting, most inspiring places in the whole entire world, Park Güell (if you don't know what I'm talking about here, Google it now):

These tables would obviously be refashioned a bit to actually be shaped properly for a table (Like, the flower bomb base will need a flat top) and then the tops will be glass.

So, there you have it. I welcome you to The Delicious Food. (Wouldn't that be hysterical, for your waiter to say that to you? "Welcome to The Delicious Food!" Mwahahahahaha. So dorky.)

BB Number Three

Who would you invite to your dinner party, and why?

This prompt comes from Debbie, in true English-professor fashion. Modeled off of an article by Marina Warner, who hosted a faux-party with six guests, a chef, and sous-chef. The point, however, was to not only invite your favorite people or those who are most influential to you. Warner made a point to create her guest list based upon pairings: which two people would sit with whom, making for the most dynamic set of three couples around the dinner table?

I thought and thought and thought about all the literary figures who've been stuffed into my head throughout my life, but then I decided, "You know what? SCRAP THAT. It's summertime. And there are more awesome people in the world than just Englishy folk." (Although, many very cool people are Englishy folk. If I didn't believe that, I wouldn't be studying what I am. [What I am studying, that is. Not what I am. Except, I suppose I do study what I am here, as well. It's unavoidable.])

And so, in true nonconformist fashion, I am inviting three of my favorite people in the world, who all incidentally get along famously with one another, and I am pairing them with people who I feel are interesting enough to make for an awesome party and who my friends would adore. (Aaaaand, breathe.)

Pair One: The ravishing and intensely complicated Andrea S. I am pairing her with Salvador Dalí. He has always been one of the most enigmatic artists to me, so I'd like him to come to the party. I'm pairing them because, for one, Drea is an artist.

And although this may be hotly contested, I am going to argue that a tortured soul's lamentations are often soothed best by another tortured soul. Dalí and Drea can sit side by side, their heads bent toward each other with magnetic whispers, sipping vodka on the rocks. (Or with soda.) Then, when they're good and drunk, they can crazily throw cats around the room.

stipulations: Dalí must come later in his life, when he painted like this:

He must bring a blank canvas and paints, as well, because I want him to take a break from Gala and paint Drea instead. Since I'm the host for this incredible dinner party, he'll have to leave the canvas with me, though. Sorry, Salvador. And I'd really like Drea to come with her hair down, dramatic eyes, and wearing layers upon layers of wispy, gossamer chiffon.

Pair Two: My outrageously gregarious and beautiful friend Miranda S. She gets to sit with Betsey Johnson. I am fairly certain that Miranda and Betsey, kicked back with cosmopolitans or tequila shots, each wiggling a four-inch-heeled ankle off of crossed thighs, would be an unstoppable pair. They'd exude boisterous, sexy drama punctuated with sparkly pink laughter that would fill the room to the brim. They, too, would soon be drunk, and then they'd talk of nothing but how great it is to be blonde and fabulous. And no one would argue with them.

stipulations: Miranda has to wear her "OMG that's low"-cut black and white patterned halter dress, and Betsey has to bring party favors for the girls (me, Mir, and Drea). Yes, that is how it works at my party. The favors will be a bag stuffed with a pair of shoes, a piece of jewelry, and either a bottle of perfume or a pair of sunglasses. All by Betsey. And my friends can pick with pieces they want.

In case you're wondering, I would choose:

Pair Three: The intelligent, intimidating, breathtaking, hysterical Anthony D. (Are you sick of hearing about him yet?) It was really, really hard for me to pair Tony with someone, perhaps because I wanted to just pair him with myself and get it ovah with. But that's not the point. So, instead, I'm pairing him with Joey Burns. I think, of all the singers in all the bands in all the world, Tony would get along best with Joey. I can picture them seated at the table, chairs migrating to face one another more and more after each draft pint (suddenly I've got beer taps! Hooray!) talking of eating enchiladas in a dark, dingy, Guadalajaran restaurant while a Spanish woman named Rocío flamenco dances with castanets. Joey will tell Tony that next time, he has to come along.

"When?" Tony will ask.

"Next Thursday? There's this Mexican festival I've always wanted to go to -- supposedly they sell the best churros and chocolate, and there are mariachi bands lining the streets..."

And the next thing we know, they're debating whether to drive or fly.

stipulations: Both Joey and Tony have to bring their guitars. Tony can use mine if he can't get ahold of his (depending on how long he's been back from Korea), but the instruments will be mandatory. And I won't want to listen to any arguing about how Tony "isn't good enough" because, even though it is a bit difficult to be as good as Joey Burns on guitar, Tony can hold his own. We'll also work on getting Joey super drunk so he plays worse.

Food

As far as food goes, I would like Julia Child in the kitchen and my mom as sous-chef. When I was very young, I remember my mom watching Julia Child's cooking show. I always thought the way she talked was so funny, but she started to grow on me after spending so much time on my TV at home. I would love to hear her bumbling around in my kitchen, exclaiming whenever a sauce turned out just right. My mom would slink right under her wing as sous-chef. Luckily, she is a pretty amazing cook herself. I'd want a very french meal, too, because good french food seems damn near impossible to come by in America. Ratatouille, spinach quiches, provencal cornish game hen, chocolate crepes. I don't know. Whatever Julia comes up with. I just want french food.

Music

Lastly, I am going add a little bit to my party. Sure, Joey and Tony will rock out with their guitars while we're drinking, but when the food is served, we'll need background music. But I don't want to listen to the radio, or CDs, or even vinyl. I want a band. And, because there is no way I could ever pick a single band to come play at my dinner party, I am going to hand-pick my musicians instead. And so, without further ado, I'd like to present the Lauren Dinner Party Group.

vocals: Leslie Feist and Amy Millan (but only if she sings like she sings in Stars, not how she sings on her solo album.)

guitar: Jenny Lewis and Britt Daniel (they would also obviously sing, as well.)

bass: Nate Query (from The Decemberists)

drums: Arlen Thompson (from Wolf Parade)

piano: Regina Spektor (nom nom nom)

violin: Marc Bianchi (he is basically the entirety of Her Space Holiday, right??)

I also want probably five or six other people to play, but this is just a short and concise list because, let's be honest, I've been writing this post for like seventeen hours now. And I'm sure you're just as sick of reading it by now. Not to mention very upset that you can't come to my kick-ass party (because it doesn't exist. *sadface* Maybe some day...).

BB Number Two

Describe the best meal you've ever eaten.

I'm a tad late on this prompt, I realize, but I've been busy. So there.

As most people know, food is very important to me. I love eating. I love all of the different, unique flavors that can be created from, say, the way you cook meat to the variety of spices that can meld a dish together. I love eating so much that I obviously love cooking. Baking is my favorite, probably because I have like ten sweet teeth. ("Oh, so you're ordering it for your tooth?" - Jim G.) But I also love standing in front of the stove, throwing shit into a pan, and seeing what comes out. This is a product of sitting on a bar stool at home and watching my mom or dad in the kitchen. Because I don't have as much experience has either of my parents, who are both wonderful cooks, I usually get something that is edible, sure, but kind of gross. I never try new things on other people unless I have a recipe to follow. I can make damn near anything turn out from a recipe, but when I'm winging it, well, that's a different story.

Accordingly, I could write about so many food experiences here. I could write about how for one summer of my life I ate sushi every day. I could write about the time I went (back) to Spain in high school, and, after our united and incessant whining about ham and cheese sandwiches, my classmates and I sat down at a long banquet table to giant pans of paella, one of my favorite dishes. I could write about how much I love munching on popomat and sipping glasses of Huck with Toria while watching The Office. But I'm not going to write about any of those things. Because food isn't just about eating to me. It's about connecting, sharing, and loving. After all, what good is it to cook a four course meal if you're the only one who's going to enjoy it (and then have to clean up afterward)?

Therefore, I am going to write about a mediocre meal I had a week and a half ago. It was a tuna salad sandwich and french fries. To be honest, I was so hungry by the time I got to the restaurant that my tummy had shrunk to fit just half the sandwich and about ten fries. I took the rest home and left it in the fridge to get thrown away. (Honestly, not my original intention. But that is what ended up happening, much to my dismay.) What made this particular meal so wonderful wasn't the food. Because it's never really about the food for me. It's about the experience. And this experience was lovely.

I was at the Village Pub in Magnolia with Tony and the majority of his family: mom, dad, stepmom, and sister. It was the night before he left for Korea. It was one of the last times I would get to sit next to him, touch his arm, and smack a kiss on his cheek for many months to come. And not only did I get to enjoy this meal with him, but also with his family who, over the course of the past two years, now occupy a specialized spot inside my heart.

I've never been so accepted into a family as I have with Tony's. Maybe I've never wanted to be. But they are so kind to me I sometimes wonder, "What have I done to deserve this?" Every single one of them -- Paulette, Sue, Zach, Jenny -- said to me that I have to visit even while Tony is in Korea. Well, Jenny said she'd have to come visit me in Pullman because she'd miss me. And she'd better, because I'll miss her too. I will miss them all.

At dinner, the conversation never halted, even when we finally got our food. Jenny and I quoted Sex and the City unabatedly, she pausing only occasionally to toss a relevant Flight of the Conchords quote into the conversation. It's nice to find someone else who is as on top of SATC as Miranda. The evening's laughter and teasing and kind words frolicked around the table between bites, all six of us playing with everyone else. I didn't feel like an outsider, someone sitting at a table with a family. I felt like I belonged there, like I was wanted, and that is one of the most precious feelings a girl can hope to experience when in the presence of her boyfriend's family. Even though the food was there less to be outstanding and more to satiate empty tummies, this meal was proof that people can be brought together with food. We were celebrating Tony's departure and enjoying the time we had with him before he was gone, and I was invited to share in the experience.

And so, although this is nowhere near the story of the best meal I've ever eaten -- because I've eaten so many amazing meals in so many different states and countries -- it's the story of the best meal, as of right now, that I have had the pleasure of sitting in on. Because, like I said, what's a good meal without good company?