true love

"I'd tap that."

I shall leave some of this post's comments to it's rightful author - Jenn, as she was the one who originally discovered the beautiful specimen known as the Granola Parfait (B. Granolium). Spotted in several locations, including the Golden Bear Cafe, Pat Brown's, and The Terrace on the UC Berkeley campus, this little beauty is a treat indeed. The morning is usually the best time to catch a fresh one, but don't worry! - the populations lining the fridges of their habitats are replenished several times a day.

Both of the Jennifers have been known to hunt down a granola parfait in the throes of midterm studying. The cold, creamy yogurt (vanilla, or maybe plain) pairs perfectly with the chewy raisins, crunchy granola with almonds, and plump juicy blueberries, staining the yogurt with swirls of light purple. A perfectly refreshing accompaniment to a day like today, in which my Irish colors show through, mainly the red type, in the form of a sunburn. I was focused so much on the parfaitness of the parfait, I neglected the fact that my cells were, at that moment, turning cancerous. It was so worth it.

-Jenny

Colonies of blueberries. Colonies!

From Jenn: If there's one thing I'll miss squandering my dining common points on, this would be it: the granola parfait. Like Jenny said, this is the perfect food to eat during midterms--not only does it provide the energy to read through the never-ending readers, its easy to sneak into the stacks and shove behind your computer when the monitors come strolling by. Contrary to what others think, the best way to eat this parfait is by smushing it all together until it resembles a Foothill inhabitant--pale, pasty, and altogether unappetizing. But the moment you slurp it up, the taste of the sweet, soggy grains, fluffy yogurt, and tangy berries is amazing. Our only reservations are when the yogurt to granola ratio is too low. TWO to ONE, people! That's the golden ratio. Please stick to it. Anything else is like a cup of yogurt with a little granola (and the feeling that I was wasted) or a cup of dry granola and a dab of yogurt (and the feeling of being wasted...okay not really. I don't know what it's like to be wasted, but I just really like parallel sentences. So sue me.)

Anyhow, I really need to thank this creation because it has led to my current obsession:
Take a bowl. Fill it 1/3rd with granola. Fill it 1/3rd with Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Fill it 1/3rd with Lucky Charms. Add a dollop of yogurt (any flavor!!!). Add some milk--enough to make the cereal float a bit. Throw in an entire diced banana. MIX...and ENJOY!!! Like I've said and will say again: It's the breakfast, lunch, and dinner of champions.

+ +

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= HAPPINESS.

Better than Sunday Masse

With famous places like Cheeseboard Pizza, Barney's Gourmet Hamburgers, and Gregoire filling the Gourmet Ghetto, little places often get overlooked. However, after one (or two) accidental, yet delightful experiences there, it's often these little gems that impel us to leave our nook up at our dorms and to make the trek to the realm of the delicious again and again. Masse's Pastries is the perfect example.

After a gut-busting lunch at Gregoire's, Jenny and I had to wait for Lindsay to come. Though we were stuffed (think 5th month of pregnancy-stuffed), the mere memory of a macaron we had at Bittersweet Cafe forced us to mentally secure another 1 mm of space in our stommachs for some sweets. So off to Masse's Pastries we went...

The moment we walked through the door, our eyes were set on this chocolate macaron. The picture is blurry because my hands were shaking from the excitement...and I have yet to learn how to take close-ups. We quickly handed over our (parents) hard-earned money for the cookie.
Ohh macaron, macaron in my hand. You are the best desert in the land! (Poetry skill will improve. Give it time, give it time)
The most diplomatic way to share the lovin was by splitting it with a coffee mixer stick. Along the way, the macaron's beauty was marred. But no fear, we knew that underneath the demolished shell, was a layer of chewy chocolate heaven.
The moment I bit into the macaron, the essence of chocolate crept over my tongue, into my throat, and happily spent the last minutes of its life resting, in my stommach. Okay, it wasn't that intense, but it was good. However, I was reminded of the pistacio macaron I had at the Ferry Plaza Building in San Francisco. One of my favorite blogs is "The Girl Who Ate Everything." She should really be called "The Girl Who Ate Everything Macaron-looking" because the girl is Lucky (with a capitalized "L"). Living in New York, she's exposed to delicious eats all the time. These delicious eats include macarons. Pistacio macarons. I had always thought that chocolate macarons were the best. However, the moment I bit into a pistacio macaron, I realized that macarons shouldn't be solely sweet, but fragrant and delicate as well. Unfortunately, the chocolate macarons fell into the trap of its breathren. Basically, twas delicious, but I was content with just half.
Birthdays are the best thing ever. The reason? There's cake. For my sister's birthday, she got a mango mousse cake. It resembled the light and creamy cakes of my childhood that I got from Sheng's Bakery and Sogo's. The cake wasn't too heavy and the real star was the fruit (as you can tell from the not-so-subtle inverted mango plopped on top) One word: yumminess...
-Jen
Masse's Pastries
1469 Shattuck Avenue
Berkeley, CA 94709
510 649 1004

XRDS. ...just kidding.

Sometimes in my darkest of studying hours I look at the Foothill DC menu and sink further into despair, because noooo way am I having a hamburger again or venturing near the yogurt/pickles/peanut butter lair. And also I have a test the next day. Cereal time perhaps? But sometimes in these sad times I hear a knock at my door and Jenn will come flouncing in and propose a trip to Crossroads, the other DC on Southside. These trips mean a lot for my stomach. Meaning, chiefly, death. Seriously, these meals are of epic proportions. I could say that it's an unconscious defense mechanism of mine, to stuff myself with good food while it's available in such abundance, to tide me over the bad times as our ancestors might have done. But the truth is I don't pay enough attention in Anthro to make that kind of statement and I am just a glutton. Usually I stuff myself with a hummus sandwich and sweet potato fries, and then ideally bread pudding, and then, like the beast I am, I waddle into Peet's Coffee and Tea next door and get a steamed milk with a hazelnut shot. Oh how my belly aches but let me tell you life is GOOD.

Crossroads is pretty amusing because we get to watch everything about Southside we're missing in Footy pass us by, literally, as we eat. It's always so interesting to me to see the stark differences between the lives led on the two sides of campus. If I lived on Southside, I might feel funny about going to dinner at Crossroads looking as frump as I usually do, whereas to be honest, anything goes in the realm of the Foothill creatures. You can be rained on and tired and frizzy and still be accosted by umbrella-boys and probably umbrella-girls.

Ahem. Anyways, back to dinner.


Okay, to be fair, this was taken at Foothill DC. Seriously, the best thing about the DC is the salad bar. There's pretty much everything you need. EXCEPT, even though Jenn would disagree (she loves her salads, and especially her Sesame Goddess dressing), I don't like the salad dressing options. I guess I'm much too used to Kraft Italian dressing at home to appreciate anything that's not 99% garlic and vinegar. But anyways. The salad bar is fresh and yummy and nice to have available. I think most of it is even organic. Berkeley is good about making sure to label which foods aren't, and they also have a nice selection of vegetarian and vegan options at our DC. Unfortunately, I am not usually brave enough to venture into that territory too often, unless it is into the land of TOFUTTI "ICE CREAM" SANDWICHES, which are delicious AND amazing, no matter what Lindsay says.

Sweet potato fries at Crossroads!

Typical dinner for Jenn. Notice the complete lack of meat. Pssh.

Some ravioli that looked intriguing, but failed to deliver. Also some potstickers of The Crazy. The Crazy loves her potstickers.

-Jenny