Tag: food

Oh happy days abound

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I never thought I’d need something so much until I heard this: Tim Hortons coming to Georgia

Welp, so much for that whole idea of getting into better shape.  Once those iced capps start flowing, it’s all downhill from there.

Seriously though, this news tickles me pink as my daughters’ wardrobes.  The best news I didn’t know even needed to come to fruition.  I love Tim Hortons, it’s no secret to anyone who’s known me for a minute or two.  Specifically their iced capps, which I’m bound to consume in ridiculous quantities whenever I’m remotely close to an area where Tim Hortons are accessible.

When I went to upstate New York, I hit up at least seven different Timmy’s.  When I visited Detroit for a day, I hit two different Timmy’s on the way out of town, one of them being inside of an Arab supermarket.  When my dad and I drove to Cleveland for baseball, I made a nearly 30 minute out-of-the-way detour to Youngstown, Ohio just because there was a Tim Hortons up there.  Every single layover in Toronto means an iced capp, and for someone who doesn’t have Tim Hortons remotely accessible on the daily, I’ve consumed more iced capps than some Canadians.

And now they’re coming to Georgia.  Reportedly 15 locations between Atlanta and Columbus, so hopefully some of those are remotely accessible to where I am now.  I can’t say I’d be optimistic about the quality of their baked goods considering the available workforce around here, but considering the iced capps will be coming out of machines and bagged concentrate, I think I still have reason to excited about the potential of being able to get iced capps down here in the near future.

Man, first it was Buc-ee’s and now Tim Hortons coming to Georgia.  Just need Wawa to miraculously crack into this state and I’ll have to tell myself to stfu when I get mad and ragey in Georgia traffic and asking myself why I still live here.

How I spent my 40th Birthday

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Mythical wife, my brother and several close friends and I actually celebrated my birthday this past weekend.  Because my birthday fell on a Tuesday which is probably the worst day for a birthday to ever fall on, it made sense to do stuff on the weekend before.  It was a pleasant time to hang with people I love and eat and drink while my in-laws watched the girls.

It was probably for the best because as far as my actual birthday has gone, there wouldn’t have been any time for well, anything.

#2 is sick with strep where I’m probably prime suspect to have been patient zero that got her sick.  Subsequently, the new nanny got sick and didn’t come in, so as is the case when someone is sick, I had to eat the day and work from home and take care of both girls all day, and get no work done and miss the gym when I’m trying to stay on something of a routine.

However, being my birthday I refused to let myself get upset or fall into disappointment because nobody wants to feel either on a birthday.  I made the best of my day, and thankfully my workload could permit it, and I actually had a pretty pleasant day with my kids before the sickness started to really overtake #2.

Regardless of the circumstances and minutiae, I did get to spend my birthday with my daughters.  At the end of the day that is what matters and it’s always time well spent.

And this is how I bring in my 40’s.  I knew I would probably end up writing some sort of drivel for the occasion, and all I knew was that I was going to compare it to how I ushered in 30, where I was discovering a donut burger in Midtown in comparison.

Aside from the fact that I moved out of my old house and into a new one, met a girl that would have me, marry her and have not just one, but two kids, not much else really feels like it’s changed between 30 and 40.  I still brog, I still watch wrestling, collect blets, casually follow baseball, it’s just now I have my own family interspersed among it all, and my days are packed every day.

I don’t make big deals about birthdays, even supposed milestones like 40, because i don’t want to get my hopes up in the event things go tits up.  Frankly if I were a more selfish person a day like today might’ve constituted tits up but perhaps I’ve grown or my priorities have changed to where I recognize a day with my girls as good in every way shape or form.

Otherwise the only real things I feel like I need to concern myself with other than the litany of old jokes I can make about myself is to better take care and be cognizant of my own health and well-being.  But a day like today, even if it is the only 40th birthday I’ll ever have, just feels like any other day.  Same overload of chores, childcare, feeling overworked and having no time for myself.  Except I made a very conscious effort to not give into the usual feeling of despair.

Except if I’m lucky, I’ll get some cake to eat and some gifts to open up.  But bring on 40; I’ve got not intention of slowing down at the gym and I’m determined to get my running speed back to where it was pre-pandemic.

Dad Brog (#083): My child is like the IRS

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

#2 has entered the stage in life in which we have introduced solid foods into her diet, and are easing her into the world of food that’s available to the world.  We’re trying to expose her to a wide gamut of flavors and all the food groups, as well as testing for allergies and sensitivities and hoping that she’ll not have all of dad’s dietary weaknesses like her big sister has inherited (lactose, eggs).

As hoped, it is going as well as it did with my first child, and #2 is eating most things without that much difficulty.  She’s clearly not a fan of tart and sour flavors, hopefully this will pass, but anything with a degree of tart to its flavor profile hasn’t gone over as well as some of the other things. 

One critical win that we seemed to have gotten is that she doesn’t seem to be as nearly sensitive to eggs like her sister is, or her dad is.  With bated breath, we’ve given her egg whites to which she’s been able to digest and not result in projectile vomit and diarrhea, but I did notice that she did get a little bit of skin issues where the egg might have touched around her mouth.

But overall though, so far so good.

You’d think though, with as many calories and solid food that she’s consuming, and increasing on a gradual basis, the need for mother’s milk would dwindle, right?  Prior to solid foods, she was consuming nearly 30 ounces of breast milk a day which is roughly around 600 calories.  Now that we’ve introduced solids, we’re not micromanaging her exact caloric intake, but she’s probably getting close to 400 calories a day on solids alone, independent of milk consumption.

Sure, growing babies need to eat to grow, but mythical wife and I thought that her need for milk would take a step back with those calories perhaps being replaced by actual solid food.

NOPE.

#2 is still slamming 30 oz of milk a day, and by god almighty if she doesn’t get her 30 oz of milk by the day’s end, it is absolute hell for us to pay, by virtue of repeatedly waking up and screaming bloody murder until the milk debt of the day is paid.

Like today, she’s eaten a pancake, a slice of turkey, cheddar, grapes, grilled chicken and various fruits.  More than she’s eaten in previous days.  As the day was winding down, the milk count on the day was closer to 15 oz than it was 30, but her temperament hadn’t really been altered, and she was in pretty good spirits throughout her awake time.

At the time I’m writing this, she’s woken up three times, and has not gone back down without another bottle.  Just like that, she’s back up to 27 oz, and she’ll be ripe and ready for her 30 by the time we do our final nightcap bottle.

So basically, she’s like the IRS when she doesn’t get her 30 oz on the day.  She will go to the ends of the earth to make your life hell and basically hold you and your time hostage until the milk debts are paid off.

Year two of forever (Dad brog #080)

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Under normal circumstances, I would’ve liked to have written something on the actual day.  But mythical wife and I were at Disney World with #1 celebrating her second birthday, so appropriately understandable, I just wasn’t around to take the time to write and reflect.

And just like that, my first child is two years old.  Naturally, the passage of time has felt like a blip, and I can still remember lots of the finer details of raising my daughter, and the world she grew up in and has been living in, still amazed at just how things have progressed in that span.

Over the last year, between first and second birthdays, a lot has most certainly occurred.  Not long after turning one, my daughter really kicked it into gear and began crawling like a speed demon obsessed, which was a might’ve been considered a little late in the development game, but honestly that part didn’t last long at all, because before we knew it she was suddenly upright, and it was barely a month after turning one, did she take her first steps and frankly, she hasn’t stopped running around since then.

#1 basically eats everything in sight now, and she went from being introduced to solids to not just inhaling everything that’s put in front of her, but now an innate curiosity and determination to utilize utensils and not just eat everything with fistfuls jammed into her mouth.

Obviously, one of the more substantial occurrences to have happened within the last year was that even though she was just one year old, #1 became a big sister already, when #2 was born in July, and my household had to deal with the harrowing realization of being a house with two under two, and the hard mode of life we were about to embark on.

In spite of everything I may have written detailing the difficulty and hell that parenting under these circumstances might have been, one of the joys to have emerged from it all has been witnessing just how much my now elder daughter, loves her little sister.  What started off as hesitation and fussing about the new edition to the home, #1 has taken to big sisterhood quite well, and fewer things bring genuine happiness to my heart than seeing her open up her arms and envelop her little sister in big hugs, whenever the opportunities present themselves.

Not a day goes by where I don’t just stop and watch my child at varying points throughout the days, just to see what she’ll do next.  Not a day goes by where it doesn’t seem like there’s some sort of growth or development with her, most of the time pertaining to absorption of the things she’s hearing and her ability to repeat and recollect, which also means that I have to really watch out for using profanity around her, because much like this meme, there’s no doubt that she’ll remember the bad words forever.

But every night while I wind her down for bedtime, I tell her that I love her so much, and it melts my heart every single time, when she repeats the words “love you so much.”  I know for now it’s mostly just repeating the words that I’m saying, but I’m hoping that one of these days eventually, she’ll be saying it as a declarative statement of her own volition and with understanding the meaning of the words.

As much as I love her though, all the same, has arrived the time of toddler defiance; a lot more no’s, a lot more fussiness at being told what to do, and a whole lot more determination to do things herself and her way, and not necessarily how others want her to do things.  I’m guessing this is probably the onset of the suppose terrible twos, but really it’s still just the never ending adventure of raising a child that I’m clearly experiencing first hand for the first time.  Hopefully she doesn’t make my life too hell as mythical wife and I embark on this next chapter of our parenting lives, but I’m confident that our love for our kids won’t waver, no matter how much trolling and exasperation they’re going to inevitably test us with throughout our lives.

Either way, I thought I’d have more to write about this than this, but I am still a tired dad with too much on his plate, and not enough time to accomplish everything he wants to do.  Regardless of the circumstances, a happy belated-in-writing birthday to my first child, whom I love so much, and will always love so much.  I look forward to watching her grow and develop, from the good to the bad, and there will never be a day where I am not thankful to be her dad.

What’s the point of dress codes if they’re not enforced?

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

All snide social commentary that skews towards the obvious racism that is often associated with them, it is a serious question: if a place has a dress code and nobody enforces it, what’s the point of having it in the first place?

Down in Florida, my famiry went to dinner at a supposed upscale steakhouse at one of the numerous Disney resorts.  While we were packing for the trip, I had full intentions of going full vacation mode as in packing basically nothing but shorts, t-shirts, and with the intention of wearing nothing on my feet other than my slides the whole time, but mythical wife informed me that we had reservations at a place where there was a dress code and that I should pack accordingly; as in a collared shirt, and jeans were acceptable as long as they were not ripped up. 

Only slightly begrudgingly because I do like fine dining and don’t mind cleaning up from time to time, I did pack accordingly.  But I did mention to my wife that I would wager money that we would probably see people there that were nowhere close to adhering to the dress code, be it people slumming it up or just samples of the various Florida white trash that exists in the state.

When we got to the restaurant, I was compliant to the dress code because I have respect and follow rules, but completely unsurprising, were all the people I could see inside and waiting outside of the restaurant, that most definitely were not.  In most cases, it was a bunch of Ben Afflecks who looked like they rolled right off one of Orlando’s countless golf courses, in their polo shirts, but their non-compliant khaki shorts, but there were no shortage of people slumming it up in t-shirts and modes of dress that would be better suited to a mall food court rather than an upscale resort steakhouse.

And not that I have any issues with gay guys, but there was one fabulous dude wearing a men’s denim romper, with red bandanna around his neck, as if he were deliberately trying to look like a male version of Rosie the Riveter.  All classifications aside, that wasn’t compliant to the dress code either, but that didn’t stop him from being able to get inside and dine as well.

Which brings me back to the original query, if they’re never enforced, why do places even bother advertising any sort of dress code?  At the end of the day it’s fairly meaningless to me, but as a person who can respect and adhere to simple rules, it always irks me when other people don’t.  It’s not at all difficult to do, and it makes me wonder why people don’t want to take a little pride and clean themselves up.  I’m not saying that people need to go all Harry and Lloyd, but is it really fatal to just try?

All this really makes me want, is to see a video montage of people getting turned away at restaurants for not being compliant to dress codes, but much like the disappointment I feel in person when I see those who don’t, the internet really is no different.  I can’t find any compilations, much less any decent individual videos of such humiliations occurring, and just a whole bunch of depressing and disappointing news articles of black people getting turned away at restaurants.

At this point, abolish them all, if they’re never going to be enforced and only being used to inappropriately weed out racism.

Gentrification Station, what’s your location?

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Ever since I moved back out to the ‘burbs and no longer have a job in Midtown/Downtown proper, I don’t miss the city one bit.  I have little to no business going into the city anymore, and I don’t miss it one iota.  I used to feel like I was missing out on the pulse of Atlanta if I didn’t at least work inside city proper, but that ship of importance has long since sailed a couple times around the planet by now.  I just don’t give a fuck about what’s going on in the city, nor does it actually matter to me anymore.

However, #2’s recent baby modeling engagements have required us to go back into the city, and as a once-in-a-while kind of thing, I was looking forward to seeing just how much has changed over the last few years.  And gee, by golly, how things have changed a lot since I used to have frequent business there.

Sure, there are a few new skyscrapers that I had no idea sprang up like they were dropped in from the sky like in Sim City, but that’s not what I’m here to talk about.  I’m here to talk about the bomb of gentrification that seems to have plopped itself on the western edge of the city, and they’re all too eager to let you know about it.

West Midtown was definitely becoming a thing when I still worked in the city and when mythical then-gf was living within city proper.  Basically starting at around Georgia Tech, everything west and going north of campus was developing rapidly, especially off of the Howell Mill and Northside Drive corridors.  Going away were dilapidated lots and ram shack buildings, and all these mixed-use apartments with bougie restaurants on the ground were appearing.  The gentrification wand was definitely shaking its fairy dust all over this area.

But going back into the city on South Atlanta-Marietta Blvd to avoid the usual bullshit traffic of I-75 and the connector, I drove through Upper West Midtown, which was definitely hit by the Albert Pujols baseball bat of gentrification.  As soon as you cross the Chattahoochee where Atlanta Rd. becomes Marietta Blvd, Upper West Midtown becomes a thing, and all sorts of new businesses and apartments have appeared where there were none the last time I really had any business going down this route.

It started with a Publix that was predictably victimized by the general area at first, but apparently the neighborhood has soldered through, and the gentrification bomb appears to have done some work over the last few years.  Now I have no idea if the heat map of crime has actually changed in that area, but generally with gentrification comes the pushing of riff-raff out the door.

However, the biggest transformation, I would have to say was the generally industrial neighborhood that is along Chattahoochee Ave.  In my days, this area was a generally undesirable area that I favored tremendously, because there were some real gems of restaurants amidst the off-beaten paths, but it definitely looks like the secret is out, and this place too was hit hard by the gentrification bomb.

Obviously, fewer things are whiter than microbreweries, and as mythical wife had pointed out, there are no fewer than 4-5 independent breweries that have emerged within a 1-mile radius in this area.  But while mythical wife and #2 were at the agency studio doing their baby modeling thing, #1 and I had the opportunity to explore the newly gentrified area, and I came upon a true monument to gentrification.

Christened “The Works,” this is basically a shopping center full of ridiculous businesses that I’m amazed to stay in business because they’re all galleries and use words like curated and rustic to describe their wares, and I don’t even want to go in because I feel like I’d drown in arrogance and pretentiousness.  But the biggest reason to come in was the food court, which in today’s gentrified vernacular must be referred to as a food hall, because all of the vendors are local and independent proprietors, and not like Panda Express, Popeyes, or Chick Fil-A.

As I was hungry and needed to feed my other child, #1 and I managed to drop $27 on a sandwich and a slider, and then another $12 on three fucking cookies because I wanted to treat my wife and my mom to some locally-sourced goods, but didn’t know the price before purchasing them which I’m sure is deliberate because they’re preying on people wanting to avoid the awkward scenario of refusing something upon finding out the cost. 

I mean, the quality of the lunch and cookies were definitely good, and I’m not beneath dropping $40 on such a seemingly low quantity of food, but I’m also not going to deny that it’s expensive and a little pretentious.

All the same, I would take pretentious gentrification monuments over shantytown abandoned plots of land.  As much as I want to clown on The Works and their Food Hall, it actually is still a lovely place that I’d like to fantasize about bringing the wife to for a no-kids date night in a fantastical scenario that will probably never happen.

But it’s just all too amusing to see all the very white tropes and tendencies that happen to an area when the gentrification bomb is planted and explodes.  At least all of the eateries that I remembered fondly all appear to still be there, and hopefully they’re benefitting from the newfound traffic that all this gentrification is bringing to the area.

Not sure how I feel about this

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

When I read this story about an Initial D café out in California, I was a little skeptical.  Initial D is a property that I’ve been pretty passionate about, and frankly of all the anime series that have ever existed, absolutely none of them can say that they’ve been able to keep my interest for 18 years.  My interest in Initial D could legitimately vote. 

Kare Kano, Ranma 1/2, Evangelion, Rurouni Kenshin; none of these properties, among many others, as much as I loved them when I did, had the ability to keep me coming back for more throughout their existences.  With Initial D, I would watch whatever I could, but then in later years, when I’d learn that more of it existed, I would search and watch it and catch back up, until the point came when the series was out of episodes.

As suspect as I thought the ending kind of was, my love for the series was unmistakable.  Frankly, almost all anime have shitty endings, and Initial D’s was far from the worst out there.

Anyway, this Initial D café out in California; of course it’s in California.  And as much as I like the execution of the place, and the obvious love for the property that the owner has, there’s just one thing that bugs me:

Fujiwara Tofu Cafe, while not formally endorsed by Initial D’s creators, 

It’s a business that’s completely more or less unauthorized.  And in spite of the lack of endorsement, the place is completely smattered with Initial D stuff all over the place, and has completely lifted its entire identity from a property that they more or less don’t have the endorsement to use.  I’m no legal expert, but I wonder about the legality of using so much official stuff for a business not sanctioned by the creators of it.

I think it bugs me because I’m such a fan of the property and generally protective of my fandom of it, and this is definitely something that I wouldn’t have done, at least without trying to gained some approval from those in charge of the property in the first place.  I mean, who’s to say the guy who owns it hasn’t, but the thing is if I don’t get the green light from Shuichi Shigeno, then this is definitely a venture that I don’t embark on.

But that’s just me.  Otherwise, I have some respect for the fact that the duder’s family has an actual history with making tofu, which gives a degree of legitimacy to the business, and wasn’t just some mega fanboy opening an Initial D café, but then just selling hot dogs and/or other weeaboo-ey Asian food.

However, the lack of endorsement from the creators, and the fact that the guy is making a living on intellectual property that isn’t endorsed kind of rubs me the wrong way.  Would I go to this place if it were in Atlanta and not California?  Absolutely, I am that much of a fan of Initial D that I would.  But knowing the backstory of the whole place and that it’s not officially endorsed still gives me this trepidation that I’m probably doing a shitty job describing.  It just rubs me the wrong way, and I feel like a property that I love so much, is getting a little bit of a raw deal, with fans making a buck on their name without their approval.