Adventures in the World of Mobile Knowledge Workers

The Original Brooklyn Water Bagel Co. - The Great Egg Cream Challenge

2011-06-13T23:25:46-07:00

When was the last time Jay-Z was mentioned in the same breath as Mae West? Or that Steve Lawrence and Spike Lee's names were listed side by side? You will see this amazing sight if you go to the Original Brooklyn Water Bagel Company and read the "Best of Brooklyn - Past and Present" signs all over the shop.

In a second visit during the weekday, I noticed many more details in what was a still busy, but less hectic environment. Through the glass windows, we saw a huge pile of dough and watched bagels being made. "The Honeymooners" played on the TV in the corner. The ever changing series of gorgeous food pictures featured breakfast items this time, like muffins and a matzo brei omelette.

At one table, older guys were having coffee together. At another, a group of Persian girlfriends chatted excitedly. People popped in for their morning coffee and bagel on the way to work. Music was eclectic and upbeat, Seals & Croft's "Summer Breeze" one moment, "Take on Me" by A-Ha the next.

Without the pressure of customers waiting behind me, I found the wherewithal to ask the cashier what bagels were hot. To my delight, plain bagels were just coming out of the oven. I was surprised, because the "hot out of the oven" option is fairly unusual in LA. If you ask what's hot at Noah's Bagels, for instance, they'll look at you like you're crazy, because what they have is what was previously prepared. I got the veggie spread this time, which had a smoother taste. Attention to detail even extends to ice cubes -- I heard a cashier tell a customer that the iced coffee cubes are made out of coffee. When the ice cubes melt, they don't dilute the flavor of the drink.

My New Yorker husband was excited to see a Fox's U-bet chocolate syrup dispenser. He informed me that next to Diamond chocolate syrup (strictly available to diners and luncheonettes), Fox's U-bet was the only chocolate syrup to use when making an authentic egg cream. A sign announced that the seltzer (another egg cream ingredient) was Brooklynized, as are all of the Coca-Cola products.

We began to speculate about Original Water Bagel Company's egg cream system.

"It must come out of the dispenser like a Coke, already mixed," my husband said.

"That doesn't make any sense to me. There's the U-bet dispenser there -- why don't you think that people would do their own?" I replied.

My husband went to investigate. He came back with the news that it was self-service. "I just don't see how they can expect people to make their own egg creams."

"Why not? How hard can it be?"

"How will you know what the proportions are? You have to get used to someone else's glass size...Most can't do a good egg cream the first time."

Although I've only had 2 egg creams in my entire life, I know that I can research the hell out of anything. Why should egg cream creation be any different? I decided to throw down the gauntlet.

"I could do it," I said.

"Oh really?" said the New Yorker. He sounded as though he thought that he knew better than I did. "Okay, let's see."

Stay tuned. At some point over the next several weeks, this Chicago girl is going to show New Yorkers how it's done.

Oh -- and if you have a favorite egg cream recipe, I'd be delighted to hear about it.

The Original Brooklyn Water Bagel Co. - Beverly Dr. between Charleville & Gregory Way

2011-04-04T12:45:16-07:00

Can The Original Brooklyn Water Bagel Company stand up to the weekend paper and bagel test? I decided to give it a try.

My husband and I first visited on a Saturday. My initial thought was that bagels were soon going to be banned forever in Los Angeles -- how else to explain the long line of customers patiently waiting for their chance to order bagels? Every table was taken, either by those who had their food, or those waiting patiently with a number. The ambiance was loud, chatty and kid-filled. "Brooklynized in Beverly Hills." a sign proclaimed on one wall. An ever changing series of gorgeous food pictures kept our spirits up as we waited in line. One moment we saw a delicious looking tuna melt on a bagel, at another moment, a "pizza" (also on a bagel).

As we wound our way slowly but surely to the Promised Land, we saw a highly scientific-looking machine of gleaming steel canisters and plastic tubing on the right. I felt as though we had been teleported to an exhibition at the Museum of Science and Industry. It was the "Brooklynizer."

Let me explain the concept, as I understand it from the interview that I heard on "The Splendid Table." Click here to go to that interview. Owner Steve Fassberg believes that attempts to make bagels outside of the New York area fail because the water is not the same. Before you scoff, he says that water is 50% of the bagel recipe. Anyway, the Original Brookyn Water Bagel Company got the rights to a special technology that recreates the mineral content of Brooklyn tap water. Minus the icky stuff like chlorine, for instance. All the water is "Brooklynized," including the seltzer and the water used to make coffee and iced coffee. "Brooklyn Water" is also sold in blue bottles.

As we were admiring the Brooklynizer, my husband spotted an older couple getting up and snagged their table. "Is it worth it?" I asked, referring to the wait.

"You'll like it," the woman smiled. "If you put the time in, you might as well like it."

Once I was seated at a table, I happily pulled out the weekend Financial Times. I was in the midst of reading an update on Japan when I heard someone exclaim "Oh, I love the Financial Times! Isn't it the best?" I looked up and discovered a soul mate. We chatted.

In between reading articles, I watched the parade of people passing by me in the line. Although a few women looked like they'd just tumbled into sweat pants and gym shoes, most looked as though they had just come from a "What the Well Groomed Person Wears About Town on a Saturday" photo shoot. I especially enjoyed the excellent selection of cute flats and boots. I felt a bit like I was on the Upper West Side of New York.

I really like that this place feels as though you're having a communal experience with other people. I also really like the New York style service -- a guy came around and asked "How's everything?"

As our neighbor (the guy sitting next to us) finished his meal, a guy in the line asked him "How's the food? Is it good?"

"Yes," he said.

And what do I think about it? The bagels are good. They're not the all-time best (that would be H&H bagels in New York), but they are good. The Nova spread was a little tart for my taste and could have been creamier. I have to give my honest opinion, but obviously these are quibbles.

I couldn't absorb everything because it was a bit of a hectic atmosphere. In my next post I'll write about a subsequent weekday visit.

I recommend parking at the 2 hours free lot on Beverly Drive, just to the north and on this side (the east side) of the street.

Click here for the Original Brooklyn Water Bagel Company contact details.

Food Lab - Another Visit

2011-03-24T16:10:39-07:00

I made another visit to Food Lab, and was completely wowed. This time we shopped for a picnic.There was still a great crowd and a fantastic vibe.

I chose what turned out to be a superb meatloaf sandwich, garnished with really good caramelized onions and slightly spicy mayo with flecks of red pepper and small pieces of pickle. My husband thinks that it was Russian dressing. Maybe it was, but I'm detailing the contents for you because even this humble condiment felt carefully prepared. On this day I spared myself nothing: I also ordered cider vinegar and sea salt potato chips, lingonberry lemonade, the famous homemade s'mores and a chocolatey cookie. My husband had a delicately flavored wiener schnitzel sandwich, cheddar and chives chips and lingonberry lemonade.

One thing that happens at Food Lab is that there are so many good looking items around that it's hard to stop ordering. Because it was my birthday, and I was hesitating about getting yet another sweet, they threw in alphabet gummies on the house. I absolutely adore gummies, so the gesture was very much appreciated.

And perhaps because it was my birthday, the whole day was filled with grand gestures. Shortly after I took this picture, I spilled an entire cup of coffee on the table that you see here. I was trying to get another shot. The Food Lab staff was imperturbable. I didn't even feel like an idiot, which was pretty astonishing given all the coffee dripping on the floor and the chairs. They replaced my coffee with a smile and cleaned up the mess efficiently.

It was raining quite a bit by the time we got to the field for our picnic. So we made a party in the car. Eating food that feels crafted is wonderful because it makes you feel good, even beyond the tasting of it. And then the sun came out.

I love Food Lab. What's not to love when the people are kind and the food is good?

Just in case you missed the previous post, click here for Food Lab contact details.

Urth Caffe - Beverly Dr. between Charleville & Gregory Way

2011-03-17T23:15:11-07:00

Another day, another afternoon whiled away in French conversation with my dear French friend. This time we met at Urth Caffe, younger sister of the well-known cafe on Melrose.

You can count on having a good experience here (although it will be Wi-Fi free). The music is eclectic, always a plus in my book. The coffee is specific (when you get cappuccino, you're asked whether you want a strong or a mild espresso). It's also organic, fair trade and delicious.

My cookie was both vegan and tasty. My friend liked his fruit salad. Service was solicitous and friendly. To top it all off, there's much less of a scene here than at the Urth Caffe in West Hollywood.

I highly recommend parking at the lot just to the north on the east side of the street. Parking is free for 2 hours before 6 pm. Once again, however, we French conversationalists had more than 2 hours worth of stuff to talk about. So I did have to pay for parking.

Zut, alors!

Click here for Urth Caffe contact details

Ramma Geni Cafe - Melrose between La Cienega & West Knoll Drive

2011-03-07T01:25:51-08:00

I stumbled upon another slice of undiscovered LA recently. The subtitle of this post should read "In which the Mobile Knowledge Worker discovers free wi-fi, great food and wonderful service at a West Hollywood hookah lounge." But I'm getting ahead of my story.

I walked into Ramma Geni Cafe and immediately felt that I had walked into a speakeasy. The bright light of day version.

The space felt both slightly edgy (votive candles and silver glitter skulls with purple jewel-tone eyes decorate a ledge) and mod (the chandeliers looked as though hundreds of abstract daisies had been cut out of white paper and glued together around a glowing white orb). I loved the bright blue patent leather cubes that dotted the room and functioned as seats. The place was empty except for a guy who sat towards the back watching "Law and Order SVU" on a flat screen TV. I assumed that he was the server.

"Do you serve coffee here?" I asked, rather dubiously.

"We're a tea house and hookah lounge, but yeah, we do coffee."

Never one to stint on experiences, I decided to order both coffee and tea. My eye was caught by the description of Earth Wonder tea on the menu. It was supposed to contain allantoin and to be good for the skin.

"Do you see instantaneous results with this tea?" I asked.

"I don't know about instant," the server replied, with a laugh.

"Well, this is LA, you know..." We chuckled knowingly.

He made the tea and coffee and brought them out to me right away. The coffee was Turkish style and already sweetened. It was fine, though not strong enough for my taste. The tea was really good.

Normally I don't hear like to hear a TV going, but in this environment, it fit and I liked it.

My next order of business was to order food. I chose baba ghanous, houmous and taboule as my 3 choices for the "make your own plate" option. Besides what I ordered, the server (I suspect that he was one of the owners, but I'm not sure) also gave me moussaka on the house. The food was delicious. I adored the moussaka. The baba ghanous was slightly sweet and creamy, the taboule was lemony and had lots of tomato. The houmous was tasty.

From time to time, the server came to check on me to ask how I liked things or whether I needed anything.

One of these times he asked, "Is it [the tea] working?"

"I don't know, you tell me. But look at me in the light."

We laughed. We chatted. I learned that Ramma Geni has been in business for ten years as a night time hookah lounge and tea house. As of March 1, they now open at noon and also serve lunch. I suppose this explains the undiscovered feel.

Somewhere along the way, the TV was turned off and the music came on. I would describe it as Euro dance music.

I normally don't like this kind of music but I loved it in this environment. I got a lot of work done. Maybe it was the beat. Or the tea. Or the moussaka. Perhaps there is a resident genie at Ramma Geni Cafe. For whatever the reason, I felt like the Queen of the Universe.

Outdoor seating, metered street parking.

Ramma Geni Cafe

8500 Melrose Avenue

West Hollywood, CA 90069

310-855-1777

La Conversation Cafe - Doheny Drive at Nemo St.

2011-02-27T13:05:46-08:00

What better place to have French conversation than at La Conversation Cafe? My dear friend and I were going to meet there to give me some French practice. I speak the language, but don't have much chance to use it these days. He is French and fascinating.

I arrived a bit early and selected our table. I decided to sit directly across from the pastry case. When you enter La Conversation Cafe, you feel that you have stumbled into Old France (maybe circa Napoleon Bonaparte).

The predominant colors are deep red, blue and white. One wall looks as though it's made of swags of red material (trompe l'oeil style). I was struck by the number of mirrors with eagles on them, which made me think of the Federal period.

As I sat down, I was greeted with a huge smile by the server. He wasn't bothered that I didn't order right away. My friend joined me and we ordered coffees (his iced, mine my standard espresso). I had some kind of sweet that was delicious. I was too busy enjoying myself to investigate further, but it had nuts in it. My friend reported that his apple turnover was delicious.

We talked. And talked. And talked. As I said, my friend is quite fascinating. From time to time, we were refreshed by additional coffees and waters. A TV personality was interviewed at the table next to us. She was asked what she was going to wear during Oscar weekend and whether she had been to Fashion Week yet. Now I know that Fashion Week is a rite of passage. People came and went. No one hurried us along or shot us dirty looks. We were literally at La Conversation Cafe for hours.

We traversed the globe several times while talking of books, movies, theater and Hollywood. Darkness fell. Our conversation was finished for the moment.

I loved the good food and coffee, the warm atmosphere and the kind service. I appreciated being able to stay for hours without being hassled. I'll definitely return sometime for a meal.

Street parking.

Click here for Conversation Cafe details.

Food Lab - Santa Monica Blvd between Gardner & Sierra Bonita

2011-02-17T16:22:51-08:00

As I approach Food Lab's door, a little Cindy Lou Who look-alike runs up to door. She presses her face against the glass. It becomes a pinkish blob studded with two bright blue eyes. She laughs, I laugh. Her parents aren't as amused as we are.

Play time over, I enter the cafe. Food Lab is tiny and filled with the smell of baked goods. I'm hungry. I've just finished driving on the freeway in a heavy rain. I'm exhausted by the effort of being a defensive driver, as all around me acted as though we were competing in the Indy 500, with the added fillip of slick roads and poor visibility.

I look at the menu board on the wall and settle upon the Cuban sandwich. My frazzled nerves need to be soothed by something sweet. I choose a container of financiers. I splash out on a double espresso. While I'm waiting for the coffee, I notice a man standing just to the side of the servers, behind the counter.

From time to time he asks servers would they please check about such and such and would they please make sure about so and so. He is detail-oriented, but not annoyingly so. I decide that he must be the owner.

When I hear him say something about speck and eggs, my curiosity is aroused. I mention the dish and ask him about the concept of the place.

"We're Austrian -- so it's Austrian/German inspired American food."

"Did I make a mistake with the Cuban sandwich?" There's a definite hint of panic in my voice, of someone who's famished and worries that she has ordered wrong.

"No, it's delicious," says the woman who is now standing next to me. She has a rich throaty voice. She speaks with the voice of authority.

"We make what we like," the man says. "My mom is the chef. We're very picky." I think this lady must be the chef. I learn that the graham crackers are homemade, as are the s'mores. Well, I can't try everything in one go.

I sit at a table near the window looking onto the outdoor seating and parking lot in the back. I'm next to a gleaming metal dispenser marked "citrus, mint and cucumber water." I pour some water and look around me as I prepare my espresso.The vibe is super modern yet warm. I'm not exactly sure how this effect is achieved. The counter is a stone gray, the floor is also dark. So maybe it's the warm white tile behind the counter or the light fixtures above the kitchen space that look old school. Or maybe it's that the chairs are brown metal and the tables inside are topped with weathered wood. Sunflowers in white porcelain jugs are on all the tables.

The financiers look like bowler hats. I bite into one. Wow. It's super moist and tastes a bit like a madeleine. Sweet but not too sweet. Perfect with my coffee.

My sandwich arrives on a wooden board covered with a sheet of brown paper. Pickles and a green olive are served on the side in a plastic cup.

Now I have to switch gears. I don't like to drink espresso with a meal. I ask the server to bring me a saucer to cover my cup, which she does without a moment's hesitation. Then I start to work on the sandwich. Both the meat and the bread are fresh and of high quality. There is just the right amount of pickles and gruyere cheese. The bite from yellow mustard is unexpected but tasty. The chef was right, it is delicious.

I like that Food Lab's patrons don't look like they all bought clothes from the same Gap catalog. And they are surprisingly friendly. A tall woman with the cheekbones of a model asks me what I'm having because it looks good. We smile at each other.

An elderly man enters from Santa Monica, laden with 99¢ Only Store bags. He wears a warm jacket and a knitted cap. His mouth is sunken. He announces loudly that he would like coffee. Then he walks towards the back of the cafe. He asks me how I am. I reply and wonder whether he is a little nutty. He walks back to the counter.

"For here or to go?" the server asks.

"I want regular coffee," he says.

"Do you want it here or to go?" she says, patiently.

He speaks loudly again. "I want it here. I've been walking a lot." I realize that he doesn't hear well.

"Milk or cream?"

"Regular coffee."

"Would you like milk or cream?" The server is still gentle.

"Oh. Milk."

The server puts it all on a silver tray. "Where do you want to sit?"

"All for me?!" he exclaims. His delight is palpable, probably because his regular coffee is wonderfully presented. He indicates that he'd like to sit at a table in the front, on Santa Monica Boulevard. He pours the milk from the glass beaker into the pale blue cup. He takes off his cap. He relaxes.

The music here is eclectic, which is just the way I like it. A piano virtuoso piece (maybe Liszt?), for example, is followed by a song by the Brazilian Girls.

There is no wi-fi, however. Naturally I had to follow up. The owner said, "We don't care about people staying all day, but we want people to talk to people, not ..." and here he mimes someone hunched over a computer.

Why would I recommend a place with no wi-fi to a Mobile Knowledge Worker? Because I assume that you are as stimulated by sights, sounds and good food as I am. You like being in the mix with a diverse group of people.

You can always use your smart phone. But the truth is that even Mobile Knowledge Workers can stand to be unplugged. I read in the Wall Street Journal that writing by hand helps your brain. Click here to read that article. I read a book and wrote (with a pen, no less) during my Food Lab visit. It was a nice change of pace.

Anyway, I love a family-owned place with a point of view.

Free parking (accessible from Gardner). Outdoor seating.

Click here for Food Lab details.

Larchmont Bungalow - Larchmont between Beverly and 1st

2011-02-07T14:11:54-08:00

I caught a hint of lemon or maybe verbena as I walked through the doors of the Larchmont Bungalow. My second impression was that I had walked into a light and airy general store in the midst of an upscale village.

There was a line, so I had time to run to the restroom first. The walls were covered with images from old newspapers. My attention was grabbed by a front page headline of the July 22, 1947 edition of the Los Angeles Times. "The kidnapper didn't think to look under the bed" it proclaimed. Apparently a mother hid her daughters underneath a bed, thus thwarting the erstwhile kidnapper's efforts. I wanted to know more but didn't want to spend ages in Larchmont Bungalow's bathroom. Even 60 years ago, media was driven by sensational stories.

Back at the line. My advice to you is to look at the menu while you are waiting because the menu is extensive. The four guys at the front of the line had spread themselves along the counter, blocking my view of the menu stand (to the left). I spent my time looking around and daydreaming.

Suddenly I had a menu in my hand and was in front of the server.

It seemed that there were at least 30 dishes to choose from on the breakfast side of the menu. The lunch menu was just as comprehensive. It didn't help that I had just come from a talk, had used my brain a lot and was hungry.

I felt overwhelmed. Did I want French toast with Nutella, plantains and hazelnut syrup? No, too sweet. Maybe I wanted the Asian Style Crepe with scallops, shrimp and mushrooms in a sesame orange dressing? No, it was too early in the day for that. What about the Seafood Lover's Omelet of lobster, shrimp, fresh blue crab, and spinach with a truffle hollandaise? No, too rich.

I hate the people at the front of the line who waste everyone's time while they dither about their order. But if I didn't make a decision in two seconds, I would become one of those people. In a panic, I chose the breakfast panini (chicken-apple sausage, tomato, avocado and cheddar).

Sometimes inspiration comes too late to be useful. I had the brilliant idea to ask the cashier what she thought were the best dishes after I'd placed my order.

"Savory or sweet?" she asked.

"Savory," I replied. She then rattled off three or four dishes. I can't remember what she said.

"What about sweet?" I can remember those recommendations (Why is that, by the way?). She suggested the red and blue velvet pancakes and dark chocolate chip bread pudding pancakes.

The service was lovely. She also suggested that I pay for my espresso first and have it made when I was ready for it.

I took my number and made my way to a table. Many of the tables inside were occupied. It was too chilly for me to consider sitting at one of the tables outside. I found a small table near a wood burning stove.The wall nearest to me was papered with a leaf green pattern on a white background and reminded me of a Marimekko print.

Larchmont Bungalow felt cosy. Floors, tables and chairs were made of wood. A woman was tucked up on an olive green velvet (or its lookalike) couch in front of the wood burning stove. All around us people were either meeting, chatting with friends or working on their laptops. The abstract art on the wall made me think of peacocks because of its color palette and patterns. I particularly liked a black and white (maybe sepia treated) photo of a high rise, shot very close to the building. It looked as though panels of multiple images of the same building were lined up to create the piece.

The music selection was okay, although I'd heard all of these songs before. Acoustic guitar was the order of the day. Nevertheless, I was surprised to hear acoustic versions of songs like Level 42's "Something About You." The song is so quintessentially 80s that the acoustic cover sounded ridiculous to my ears. I later learned that we were listening to Sirius XM's Coffee House station. I don't love a coffee house radio station playing in a coffee house -- it seems to me to be too literal an interpretation of what the experience is. But that's a small point and I can live with it.

The breakfast panini was good. There was nice interplay between the sweetness of the chicken sausage, the savory flecks of dried onion in the bread, the tartness of the tomato and the smoothness of the cheese and avocado. It was more rich than what I was looking for, but I didn't order well.

Then I was ready for coffee. I was glad that I'd followed the server's advice as there was a line of people waiting to order when I went up to the counter. While my espresso was being prepared, I heard a guy with a deep cigar voice order a side of bacon and toast. That was exactly what I should have ordered.

Sipping my coffee back at the table, the talk around me (I wasn't eavesdropping -- people were speaking loudly) was of disease, genetic markers and then, mercifully, the snow in Chicago. Until the table behind me was served their food.

"Excuse me. I'm sorry," a woman sitting at a neighboring table said in a way that was both peremptory and breathless, "What is that?"

"Bread pudding pancake."

"Oh my God." This was said in a way that spoke of deep longing and regret. We all laughed.

"You can't go wrong with that," said the woman who was going to tuck in to said pancakes. More laughter and good cheer all around.

Free wi-fi. Metered and free street parking.

Click here for Larchmont Bungalow details.

Street Food - Chicago Dogs, Polish Sausage and Italian Beef

2011-01-27T15:04:46-08:00

I've been thinking lately about the term "fast food." It seems to me that we call the quick snacks that we pick up on the run "fast food." This term can have a negative connotation. When we travel in other countries, we're more inclined to think of the food that we get from a cart or a stand as "street food." And when street food is good, it's very good.

Today I'm writing about my street food tour in Chicago. It started accidentally, on the way to the bus stop. We saw a big sign above a small place called Fast Track, proclaiming that they were "#1 in Chicago." We had to go in to investigate.

The gentleman behind the counter told us that they were number one in hotdogs. Chicago hot dogs, naturally. We hadn't planned to get anything to eat but there we were, and were their hotdogs really outstanding?

After a brief discussion, we decided to put them to the test. We were going to try the footlong hotdog with everything. In case you're uninitiated in the ways of Chicago hot dogs, that means pickle, tomato, onions and hot peppers.

I sat down to wait as my husband placed our order. A big guy with a shaved head, who looked like he could've played for the Bears, came in. Chicago is a city of big personalities.

"I see you have your big coat on today," he said as he walked past.

"Yes sir," I replied.

He reached the counter where my husband was in the midst of ordering. "Aren't you going to get the fries?" he asked.

"No, we hadn't planned on it," my husband said.

"You gotta get the fries." He looked at the lady behind the counter, "Give him some fries."

"Okay, we'll have fries too," my husband said.

He detailed the wonders of Fast Track fries. "They make them here. See this machine -- they come out of there. They're made fresh. See, they have the skin on -- that's the machine where they come out."

Soon our food was ready and the plate with the hot dog was put on a tray.

"Where are the fries?" our new friend asked, a little heatedly.

"I'll give you some fries free of charge," the lady behind the counter said quickly. I think she thought that we were being railroaded.

"Yeah, she'll give them to you free," our friend explained. "Just like the drug dealers. Then you'll be hooked."

Our footlong was outstanding. It was a giant hotdog, cradled by two regular-sized, wonderfully soft buns. Everything was fresh and good. When the peppers were too hot, that's when the fries came in to cut the spiciness. I happen to be a french fry connoisseur. Our friend was right -- the fries were delicious and we were hooked. I confessed my new addiction to the lady as we left. She giggled knowingly. She has probably seen this many times before.

The next day we took a trip to Al's, home of the best Italian beef, according to our Chicago sources. I ordered it with a mix of hot and sweet peppers, because I couldn't decide what I wanted. I live in LA, the land of customization. I think that my mother was a little embarrassed by my request.

Al's is a bare bones, stand-at-the-counter-to-eat kind of place. The Italian beef was hot, juicy, shredded goodness. The combination of peppers was an inspired choice. The fries were delicious here, too. In between gobbling our food, we talked with our counter-mate. He turned out to be a former Central American diplomat and street food aficionado. He was there for his Italian beef fix. We talked about favorite street foods around the world. He agreed that our next stop was an excellent choice.

We were on a roll. Jim's is the place for Polish sausage. It's basically a stand overlooking the expressway. We got Polish sausages (sauteed onion with mustard) and a pork chop sandwich. We took these home and polished them off later. Delicious.

I wish I could say that we didn't eat for a week after our street food tour, but we had Thanksgiving dinner the next day.

Click here for Fast Track contact details.

Click here for Al's contact details -- we went to the Taylor street location.

Click here for Jim's contact details.

The Mobile Knowledge Worker & the Full-Body Scanner, Pt. 3

2011-01-14T10:35:08-08:00

At last it was our turn. A laconic young woman, hair pulled back and wearing glasses, supervised the conveyor belt.

As I put my stuff in the bins, I said, "I want the Pat Down. I don't want to go through the machine."

"Well, if they pick you, you can let them know."

"Who?"

"To whoever."

"If they pick me? What d'you mean? I don't understand."

"If they pick you."

She obviously subscribed to the school of thought that asserts that if you say the exact same thing over and over enough times, people will understand you. I finally did. She meant that going through the full-body scanner was a random event.

"What's this?" I asked, gesturing to the machine closest to me.

"That's for metal," she said, making a slow, circular, sweeping gesture over her body to indicate "entire body." She obviously thought that I was simpleminded. I could understand her point of view because I had been repeating back to her everything that she said, just to triple check.

"Oh. So that's the old kind?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied. I was incredibly relieved. The tension left my body so quickly that I wondered whether I was going to collapse.

"What's going on, Honey?" my husband asked. He wasn't close enough to hear my conversation with the TSA agent, but saw that it was a lengthy one. He was prepared to have the Pat Down too, in solidarity with me.

I finished by putting my shoes and bracelets on the conveyor belt. I double checked with the next TSA agent that I was going to go through one of the old machines. I walked through. My bra didn't set off any alarms.

The other side of the security check appeared beautiful and clean. The sun shone through the windows. I saw a place where you could get a flu shot. It was like being in the Promised Land. I considered celebrating with French fries from McDonald's. I didn't, because they're never as good as I remember. I had a cinnamon scone from Starbucks instead.