If there’s one word to describe Mylapore, it would be staying power (that’s two words, I know). They’ve been around for a long time, and I’ve been a loyal customer for just as long (except for a year break in the middle, when I’d had it with their service and inconsistencies). I believe they’ve found their winning formula: good food, consistent service, and an involved owner. All of these combine to make Mylapore a place I am happy to frequent, and bring my kids.
South indian food is their specialty. Their dosas never disappoint: served in a variety of different ways, the accompanying sambar and chutneys are yummy, and their thaalis are delicious.
Their chaat? I go elsewhere for chaat. Let’s leave it at that!
Folsom, CA 95630
Quick tip: Room for improvement!
Seeing the writeup in the Sactown magazine right before lunch today, I grabbed the bf and headed over. It’s a couple of minutes from work and so I was thrilled to have a good street taco spot nearby.
On the corner of Cirby and Rocky Ridge, the space is large and airy, typical strip mall style floor to ceiling windows all around, no real decor to speak of (yet, I’m sure), and a sparse menu. They had a soft opening on June 1, and have recently opened up to the public. We walked up to the counter to order, and the lady (I’m presuming she’s the owner, she was very sweet) pointed out some of the new items on the menu and their extensive beer list. We ordered an assortment of tacos, and I was looking forward to the shrimp one. Sadly, it arrived with bacon all over it (the menu did not mention bacon), and I was later told it was cooked in bacon fat as well. The owner brought over another veggie taco, on the house.
The bf really liked the chicken with mole, and (my) shrimp and bacon with queso taco. He wasn’t impressed with the shredded pork or the other pork (prepared differently) taco. The veggie tacos were okay, loaded with sweet corn and wilted greens. The guacamole was too lime/lemony for our taste, and the four salsas were nondescript.
They are still working out the kinks (as the nice lady behind the counter admitted), and I hope they do well. Unless they add a few more veggie options, and prepare their seafood tacos without other animal products, I don’t think I will be back.
Roseville, CA 95661
Quick tip: go for the naan. As a takeout order. Which you call in two hours before you need it. That’s about it.
The service is ridiculously slow. Two servers on a Friday night, especially when they ask you if you have reservations, is a sign of poor planning. We waited 15 minutes for water, and decided to order at the same time since we weren’t sure if we’d get another chance.
Sitting by the door to the back office/restrooms, etc. was definitely an experience. There was a one way mirror on the wall, through which we could see the spooky shadows of two to three kids slowly beating each other up; bodies would slam into the wall, we’d hear the rhythmic thumping of a body part getting hit, feet would slam into the glass, then slowly slide their way down, heads would bob eerily then get choked out of sight…it was like an odd shadow play of a reality show.
That was probably all meant to keep us in our seats, and overlook the extreme delay in food. My poor niece kept asking when her dish was arriving.
The food: samosas were bland. Tandoori paneer in a green pesto was bland. We doused everything in the two ubiquitous chutneys, which oddly, we had to ask for (which then, I see now, does NOT make them ubiquitous). The xacuti dishes were bland and we had to add liberal pinches of salt…see a pattern here?
The only thing I went back for seconds on was the naan. Hence my quick tip. For a slow order.
I will not be returning.
Novato, CA 94947
What an amazing place! The last time I played ping pong, I was twelve. Walking into Spin for a private event on Wednesday, I was immediately taken by the welcoming nature of the place: large open spaces, step seating along the walls with throw pillows and gorgeous lighting, all showcasing the stars of the place, the ping pong tables. The table set up was perfect, two to three next to each other, with narrow bench tables that housed baskets of turmeric colored balls (and were just wide enough for a well placed drink), intimate bars dispersed throughout the multilevel floors, and groups of beautiful people all over, enjoying themselves. The thwack of the paddles, the excited chatter, the clink of glasses, all made this a wonderful sensory experience. There were instructors wandering about, giving lessons as needed, then making themselves scarce as we figured things out. Food was set up at different areas with great lighting, and then there was an outdoor patio with a couple of game tables and picnic benches for more mingling.
I definitely plan on going back with the man, and maybe a group of friends. This is definitely a friends kinda place!
San Francisco, CA 94107
The bf’s boss brought a box of these donuts in for the crew yesterday in honor of National Doughnut Day. After hearing rave reviews from the bf on how amazing the donuts were, I asked him to pick some up for me to try today.
They looked amazing. Six, beautiful little rounds of glazed and nut-topped yumminess. And the first couple bites certainly were heavenly. The texture is more cake-like rather than the airy pillows I’m used to tasting in a donut, but that was fine. I’m okay with cake-nuts, as I call them! However, after a few bites, I noticed this almost bitter taste coating the roof of my mouth, similar to the artificial flavor I taste after I try one of the bf’s protein powder smoothies. (He usually has to add a lot of banana and yoghurt to mask that taste, but I can always pick it out). The taste didn’t go away, even after I tried to wash it out with some coffee.
So, on the whole, a good first impression, but since I can taste the powdered proteins they add, these donuts are not my bag, baby.
Roseville, CA 95678
My friend and I watched the Sacramento premiere of Love and Information by Caryl Churchill tonight, at the Capital Stage Theatre. With only four rows in a semi circle around a small stage, the theatre contributes to the intimate feel of the play, with the actors coming in and out of the doors and from back stage.
The set design was simple: a series of panels and boxes set at varying distances from the back; when the theatre lights were up, the panels showed large, square brick-like tiles in shades of blue. When the lights went down, the panels radiated with large electrical conducting lines in glow-in-the-dark paint: they were now broken panels of a motherboard. As the play progressed, the actors would move boxes around, set up little areas of activity, and then just as easily, move them away. It was choreographed beautifully, like a dance.
The play opened with two actors dressed like teens, pouring over a pulp magazine, trying to outdo each other on the facts they know about a favorite actor. Their desperate desire to be the one who knew more poured out of them, the frustration, the final acknowledgement that they would have to go back to the magazine for more and more trivia raised laughter from the audience, but was ultimately sad. Vignette upon vignette followed, and I quickly realized that this was the play: slice of life scenes of actors, either in pairs or groups, or on their own, walked on and off the stage, showing the various ways that people try to communicate with each other, try to find commonalities. There were so many of these: misplaced memories, an alzheimer’s patient with no memory of his wife who was trying desperately to remind him of the special love they had had for each other, people with mental disorders trying to share their deepest thoughts with people who couldn’t quite understand, old lovers reminiscing about their long past romance, neither of them remembering anything about what the other said.
At various times, a silent, still man would show up on the left of the stage with his back to the audience, with people coming up behind him, trying to reach him, with no avail. A similar scene played out on the right side of the stage, this time with a silent, still woman, her misery and depression showing in her stance, arms hugging herself, protecting herself from everyone and the world. There was a scene in a gym, with two men working out, one man trying to convince the other that his fascination with his virtual girlfriend was normal and completely acceptable. The other man’s face and voice showed his escalating frustration beautifully. Another scene with a woman crying over a news bit on her computer feed about babies dying, drowning, failed to incite any reaction in her husband who, after trying to take in what she was telling him, turned back to his smartphone, unfeeling.
What stood out was the fast pace with which the play moved: at one point, I looked at my watch and we were already an hour in. The relentless nature in which the vignettes poured onto the stage made me think of my newsfeed on my computer or smartphone. There was always something else to look at, something else to either be disgusted at, people to be bored with or fascinated by, no real satisfaction or a resolution, because then we were off to the next scene. And isn’t that just how we feel now? Our news and social connections are lightening fast, quick and brief, requiring only a limited attention span, and in the end, we feel unsatisfied, disjointed, disconnected when we are virtually connected to everything, but in reality, nothing.
At the very end, there is a man rattling off trivia questions to his girlfriend, and she’s responding with what I assume are the right answers in a machine-gun manner, frenzied and excited. He interrupts the flow of questions with one of his own: “Do you love me?” and she snaps at him, “Don’t do that!” After a slight pause, he continues with the trivia questions, and she continues to give the answers, but then she turns to face him, and I say under my breath, just as she does, “I do.”
And that was it. It was done. A connection was made, and it was enough.
I didn’t like the play. But as I walked away from the theatre, and as I drove home, explaining it to my boyfriend on the phone, the words tumbling out of me, the meanings of each vignette sinking in, layers upon layers, I realized that it made an impact.
It connected with me.
Capital Stage Theatre
2215 J Street
Sacramento, CA 95816