Most of this week’s been gloomy, very non-SoCal. Mid 6o’s in the temperature department, so very not ordinary for this time of the year. I usually recall October being moderately warm, always bright. The region didn’t get the moniker ‘Sunny’ for nothing.

I’ve begun layering. Overreacting, maybe, but at least I haven’t been freezing. I work in a very old building and I’ve been surprised at how warm it’s been in our office. Last year, I worked one floor below and it was always frigid. At that company, only the first two ribs of the radiator would get warm before the building turned off the system at noon. I guess it’s the difference between a major tenant and a start-up company. To the leasor my previous employer was just a gnat – in hearing range, but a gnat none-the-less.

I have a fabulous photograph that I took at last year’s company from the window that used to afford me the most wondrous view of Bunker Hill. It was taken after a rainy day and the sky was traffic’d with clouds. Most days there isn’t much hanging around in the sky, maybe there’ll be an oily band sweeping across the horizon at sunset. I would sit at my desk and look up occasionally, watch the Wells Fargo tower transform into an enchanted obelisk while the sun boldly apprehended its face for a half-hour in the late afternoon.

Now when I look up I have to peer across several desks and through another department to check out what’s going on outside. There’s nothing more to see than if the sun’s out or not; there’s no glorious view being mirrored in the windows of the building across the street. Still, after my more recent stints of employment closeted inside industrial buildings, there’s nothing better than being able to tell that there’s sun.

Or weather.

So the days are getting shorter and they’re getting nippy. And for when I really need it, the polar fleece is on deck along with the fake logs for the fireplace.

~0~

GO ANGELS!!!

Ebonbird once made a comment about how many of my stories contained references to food. Well yeah, thought I, Angel’s a vampire, so there would be references to snacking. And Cordy & Wesley, they’re human, so they’d need to snack, too.

I sat down and did a quick scan of my stories to that date and realized that I did exert a great deal of literary space to the subject of, not just snacking, but dining. “As The Page Turns” begins with Angel making lunch for Giles. Thinking about it, feeding your guest – no matter on how small or grand a scale – is the world’s best gesture of hospitality. A generous cook is someone with a huge heart.

SPOILER ALERT:

There’s no wonder that this season’s Angel: The Series opener began with a full sit-down meal any more than when I ended my Season Three opener with a family gathering in “Sustaining Relations”. Memories are better with sides. How marvelous to recollect a table full of laughter along with a piece of Mom’s best apple pie a la mode. What begins at childhood with the smells of a house during the holidays and continues on through Birthday, Graduation, Wedding celebrations.

SPOILER DE-ALERT:

“Blindsided”, the aforementioned “As…”, “On the Road to Discovery”, “Cherub”... My list is endless. Funny, now that I think about it, my Season Two opener, “Preliminaries” begins with a backyard BBQ. :)

My own life emulates fic, I suppose. This weekend, for instance, I had two above-average food experiences.

The Hamburger Hamlet is a Los Angeles-area mainstay. Some of their locations have closed over the years – most notably their Westwood establishment, leaving a dearth of mature places to eat in The Village. I’ve eaten at The Hamlet before – grew up eating at the Hamlet, in fact; my father was a bartender who opened their Hollywood Boulevard location when I was a wee one. Over the years, though, I’d begun lumping The Hamlet into the same group as places like TGI Fridays and Marie Callender's.

Wrongly.

I’ve often considered The Cheescake Factory to be one of the better ‘chain’ eateries, simply because it seems as though they care about keeping the flavor and quality consistent. TGI Fridays? Decent potato skins, lousy salads. The Hamlet, while in their price category, is leagues away from their fare. Who ever the chef was the night we ate at their West Los Angeles location – on Sepulveda, near National – did more than care about what went on our plates.

I had the Albacore Tuna Steak sandwich. A perfect piece of tuna, cooked just beyond pink, still juicy and gentle on the tooth, had been centered between two slices of sourdough bread -- buttered, sprinkled with cheese, then grilled. There was just enough going on with the bread to complement its contents – no oily fingers; this is not Sizzler’s cheese toast. The fish was lain upon shredded spinach and a mildly piquant ‘cajun’ sauce.

My dining partner's, Nix's, dish was incredible. First off, we’d worked up an appetite just reading the delectable menu. The menu tried, but still failed to do justice in describing the Caribbean Chicken. Falling-off-the-bone, slightly jerked, set atop pureed sweet potatoes, a mango salsa, and sprinkled all over with The Hamlet’s shoestring onion rings. Every bite ended up summoning a different taste sensation.

We settled for reading the dessert menu, saving the calories and left to dream of Caramel Banana Sundaes.

On Saturday night, in the boonies where I live, we ended up at Salvino’s Italian Market & Café. [I know the links don’t work, thanks to Blogspot who is trying to force a person to *pay* for premium services, but if you wanna give ‘em a try, eliminate their addy block. and they should work OK.] Here we encountered another menu that had us salivating before we could make up our minds. Plus, we checked out the plates being delivered to each of our neighbors.

I had the Bisteca – a rib-eye steak topped with caramelized onions and gorgonzola cheese. I rarely eat steaks at a restaurant, but this one was too reasonably-priced to pass up. Nix had the chicken – what ended up being two very healthy-sized chicken breasts smothered in a very nice tomato sauce [*not* marinara, thank God], and dotted with a prawns. My steak was accompanied by amazing garlic mashed potatoes; Nix got Pesto mashed potatoes. We were more than full and there was food to bring home, almost too bad because the Tiramisu looked super tasty.

I had my first Italian Soda – blackberry, to be exact, with just a splash of cream. I received this behemoth beverage way before my dinner. Nix & I took turns sipping and, even to the very end, it was still fizzy and flavorful. I can’t wait to return, to sample the Bolognese-sauced pastas that everyone seemed to be eating.

Hungry? Sorry about that. It’s bedtime for me. I’ve got a train to catch in the morning. And chicken-breast left-overs to attack at Noon.

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Saw two movies this weekend:
The Transporter -- fast, furious, fun, fun, fun!!! I love this Jason Stratham [too sleepy to double-check the spelling on his name] and, like xXx, the girl *doesn't get in the way. Unless you watch Euro-pics, you'll probably recognize no one in this action flick. Even if you don't like the genre, watch this one for the relationship between the Chief of Police and our Tranporter guy; it's tres Casablanca.
The Barber Shop -- Paraphrasing Cedric The Entertainer's character: "*@#& Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton!" There's something wonderfully naive about this contemporary story, harking back to slice-of-life pics from the WW2 era. Bravo for a film that celebrates what makes every person unique, even to their own culture! Such a fine job of acting from Ice Cube, he almost made me forget about the incredibly unfunny trailer for Friday After Next