The Secret Garden of my youth

As a child, I was forced to tag along with my mom when she went to the Chinese market every weekend to buy our groceries for the week.  Inevitably, I would whine my way into a box of cookies or other treats.  One of my favorites was The Garden Company's Butter Rolls.  I loved how happy the kids looked on the box and I knew there was joy to be found on the inside.  The rolls are flaky, buttery and slightly coconuty - nirvana. 

I've searched far and wide and haven't found them in any of the Asian grocery stores in San Francisco.

Goodness, I'm hungry.

What is scarier than Lindsay Lohan as a role model?

Last weekend I happened to be in the glamorous town of Las Vegas - or as I like to call it Tackytown.  Vegas has a that unmistakable whiff heavy perfume, hairspray, cigarette smoke, perspiration and suntan lotion.  Ladies and gentlemen, that is the Smell of desperation.  

Now, the Look of desperation is a low-cut black micromini dress, stripper heels and enough make-up to jazz up Mount Rushmore.  Now, there is nothing I love more than a LBD but I think these girls were taking Little far too literally.  Just sitting in the Palazzo munching on my Bouchon club sandwich, I spied enough hoochie-hos to wonder if a strip club somewhere had suddenly burnt to the ground and the talent was taking refuge in Barneys.  What really shocked me most is that some of the, ahem, ladies were being escorted by their mothers.  

So the answer to the question is Dina Lohan as a role model.  

Popping my cherry

Check, check, 1, 2...  This is my first foray into blogging.  Some friends asked me to set up a blog for my food porn that will be posted on my upcoming trip to London, Paris, Florence and Rome.   Other musings may creep their way into the blog here and there but who knows what goes on in this wicked brain of mine.