Tampilkan postingan dengan label Dreams Come True. Tampilkan semua postingan
Tampilkan postingan dengan label Dreams Come True. Tampilkan semua postingan
Bruxie: Home of the Magic Waffle Sandwich
Confession: I fell off the gluten-free wagon and ate a waffle sandwich on Sunday night. Okay fine! I ate two of them. In total I ate three in two weeks.
I want to eat more of them. Like every single day. But I can't because I'm not supposed to be eating gluten. I couldn't help it!! It's all my friend Jon's fault. We've been friends for 10 years so he has influence on me. He moved to Arizona. He came back for the long weekend and twisted my arm (okay not even a little but what-ever) into going to this place called Bruxie in Old Towne Orange.
What is a Bruxie you ask? A definition for you fine people:
Ohhh maaaaaan. The first time I had the Cheesy Bruxie. It was off the chain--Tillamook cheddar, gruyere cheese and ham between two crispy yet airy waffles.
Pause to imagine. Okay resume.
I wept. Well actually I inhaled and then wept while he ate the Lemon Meringue Bruxie with fresh berries. I managed to swipe one bite. We told ourselves it was competitive eating for the Chef so I'd have to go back again, right?
On Sunday I said to the Chef, "Hmmmmm I think it's Bruxie waffle sandwich time". He said somethinglame-o caring about my stomach, and I came back with a pathetic juuuusst thisss oooonce or something like that. *hangs head in shame* Truth be told I probably won't be going to Bruxie again, but you need Bruxie in your life STAT. Since I knew it would be the last supper Bruxie (notice how I can't stop saying Bruxie? Bruxie, Bruxie, Bruxie infinity!!!*%&^($($&%*) I took it upon myself to go big. Consequently I then went home in a heap, but I'm not sorry about it!! Oh no! See for yourselves. BRUXIE FOR PRESIDENT!! These waffle sandwiches of goodness have clearly impacted my ability to reason.
I want to eat more of them. Like every single day. But I can't because I'm not supposed to be eating gluten. I couldn't help it!! It's all my friend Jon's fault. We've been friends for 10 years so he has influence on me. He moved to Arizona. He came back for the long weekend and twisted my arm (okay not even a little but what-ever) into going to this place called Bruxie in Old Towne Orange.
What is a Bruxie you ask? A definition for you fine people:
In laymen's terms: It is the place where magic waffle sandwiches aka 'Bruxies' are made.
Ohhh maaaaaan. The first time I had the Cheesy Bruxie. It was off the chain--Tillamook cheddar, gruyere cheese and ham between two crispy yet airy waffles.
Pause to imagine. Okay resume.
I wept. Well actually I inhaled and then wept while he ate the Lemon Meringue Bruxie with fresh berries. I managed to swipe one bite. We told ourselves it was competitive eating for the Chef so I'd have to go back again, right?
On Sunday I said to the Chef, "Hmmmmm I think it's Bruxie waffle sandwich time". He said something
d.i.e. Sundried Tomatoes and Goat Cheese w/Balsamic Reduction Bruxie. DEAL WITH IT!!
I could barely bring myself to share one little bite. But I neeeeded to try his:
Buttermilk Fried Chicken and Waffle with a side of real Maple Syrup Bruxie. MADNESS
It gets worse better.
By this time I'd thrown caution entirely to the wind and was completely irresponsibly eating.
I'd fallen under the Bruxie spell and there was no turning back.
I hope you're buckled into your chairs for this one: Nutella, Bananas and Sweet Cream Bruxie.
He got up to get a glass of water, I caught a whiff of that Nutella/Banana combo and it was game over.
Binge eater on the loose folks!
Lemon Meringue and Fresh Berries Bruxie. You didn't really think I'd go all that way and
only have had that one bite of my friend's linger around in my mind for eternity now did you?
Oh no.
And to think I had been primarily concerned with what to wear in a college town so as to not
appear the older uncool woman at the cool waffle stand.
~James Perse Sweatshirt, layered Gap tanks, Rich&Skinny BF Jeans, Old Stud Handmade Belt, Converse Sneakers, H&M Sunnies (best $5 I've spent in years), Foley+Corinna Mid-City Tote~
I don't think they were onto me, but I had something akin to a whiteout and can't quite recall.
Here's a shot of the Bruxie menu for your viewing pleasure:
If you live in Southern California, are visiting Southern California
or planning a trip to Southern California this little place is a must.
See website here.
Whew I need a nap after that recap.
Blanket
As it turns out Michael Jackson is not the only one with a child named Blanket. I now have one, too. Only mine really is a blanket. But I'm still thinking of it kind of like my child and have not left it unattended since it arrived last week. You know - a similar set up to the high school kids who have to look after an egg like their baby and not let it smash. Only I'm not giving this one back to my bio, er, home economics teacher.
Disclaimer: I have no excuse for my rambling except I may or may not have eaten approximately 20 (okay probably more) sour gummy cherry coke bottles prior to typing this post. Oh, and I'm deliriously in love with my blanket, too - rendering me unable to think or speak coherently.
Examine it for yourselves, but exercise caution if you are in the work environment as you may find yourself incapable of performing employment duties such as articulating thoughts, forming sentences and/or completing simple tasks upon viewing.
It came along to Palm Springs
and was very well-behaved in the car.
Sometimes it rested on the desk
other times opting for quiet time on the deck lounge off our room.
It also may have played part in a ridic outfit post I can't wait to share next week.
Talk about an item exceeding your expectations. When I first saw the blanket in the Roots Spring Campaign I took to the phone lines and tracked this mother down thinking it may not be as good in person. Nothing like being wrong and loving every minute of it. When I removed the blanket from the box even my mom gasped. Sign of a family heirloom...hope my niece retains a bit of the hippie as she gets older :)
ps-have you checked out the facebook page I put up for the blog? if not, be sure to stop by and examine the picture of the chef, the blanket and a crystal he found at the hotel. secure depends prior to arrival. just saying.
ps-have you checked out the facebook page I put up for the blog? if not, be sure to stop by and examine the picture of the chef, the blanket and a crystal he found at the hotel. secure depends prior to arrival. just saying.
Welcome Home Isabel
I know you're all probably thinking I scored the Red Poppy Pumps from last week's post. Alas they still evade me, but I am tracking down a couple leads. They don't call me Inspector Shoeseau for nothing (remember that one?). In the meantime, however, I must reveal how it is that I reapproached the search with new vigor. About a month ago, after once again professing my undying love for Isabel Marant's designs, I received an invite to a private sale where none other than some of you know what was being featured.
Confession: I almost declined. What if I got there and even the sale price was just too far out of reach causing me to spiral out of control into a mad depression? I mean a girl's gotta weigh the odds.
Thankfully common sense took hold and I threw caution to the wind tossing my disheveled mop into a ponytail, donning my favorite fishnet sweater (seen here), a simple tank, some leggings and a pair of military boots to brave the unknown. Hot damn I was on my way! However by the time I arrived there was barely anyone left. My heart sank. Thoughts raced through my head: "Why hadn't I come earlier? There are things I recognize from the runway! *cue whimpering* Why did I drag my feet? Thank God I'm wearing a bunch of my faves or I'd really feel like hell. Why did I initially give into fear? Oh look at that leather vest. Too bad it's probably too big. Oh that dress is cute. Crap there aren't any of the red shoes. Or the sequin pants. What is wrong with me? Wait a hot minute that vest's my size."
Pause. Retrace steps.
Wait a hot minute. That vest is my size.
I look to my left and then right. There's got to be something wrong with it. It's the best thing in this room and none of these crazy women are even looking at it. Before someone can shank me and run off with my treasure I gently remove it from the rack, saunter over to the mirror barely breathing with hope and sheer giddiness over holding a piece from a designer that is a dream of mine, slip the vest on and immediately tear up. I'm not lying. I could feel the waterworks coming. You don't understand - or maybe you do - I just love her clothing and it was a moment I really didn't know would ever happen. But it did. And they told me a bunch of people had wanted the vest, but NO ONE could fit in it. Hollar!! Some things are meant to be.
Outfit details: Isabel Marant-Leather Vest, James Perse-Cashmere Thermal, Martin+Osa-Skinny Denim, Ash-Boots, Tom Ford-Sunnies
Confession: I almost declined. What if I got there and even the sale price was just too far out of reach causing me to spiral out of control into a mad depression? I mean a girl's gotta weigh the odds.
Thankfully common sense took hold and I threw caution to the wind tossing my disheveled mop into a ponytail, donning my favorite fishnet sweater (seen here), a simple tank, some leggings and a pair of military boots to brave the unknown. Hot damn I was on my way! However by the time I arrived there was barely anyone left. My heart sank. Thoughts raced through my head: "Why hadn't I come earlier? There are things I recognize from the runway! *cue whimpering* Why did I drag my feet? Thank God I'm wearing a bunch of my faves or I'd really feel like hell. Why did I initially give into fear? Oh look at that leather vest. Too bad it's probably too big. Oh that dress is cute. Crap there aren't any of the red shoes. Or the sequin pants. What is wrong with me? Wait a hot minute that vest's my size."
Pause. Retrace steps.
Wait a hot minute. That vest is my size.
I look to my left and then right. There's got to be something wrong with it. It's the best thing in this room and none of these crazy women are even looking at it. Before someone can shank me and run off with my treasure I gently remove it from the rack, saunter over to the mirror barely breathing with hope and sheer giddiness over holding a piece from a designer that is a dream of mine, slip the vest on and immediately tear up. I'm not lying. I could feel the waterworks coming. You don't understand - or maybe you do - I just love her clothing and it was a moment I really didn't know would ever happen. But it did. And they told me a bunch of people had wanted the vest, but NO ONE could fit in it. Hollar!! Some things are meant to be.
There it is. Sometimes I just open the closet to look at it. Yep it's still there. Close.
Look at it up close. Okay go lie down now. Okay look again. Rinse and repeat.
Look at her (she's a girl) shoulder pads.
No seriously. LOOK! okay sorry I'm still a little worked up...
But can you blame me? Please say no. This is the look of elation.
Dreams really do come true!
I almost had to send the Chef to get depends - for the car ride home.
Dreams really do come true!
I almost had to send the Chef to get depends - for the car ride home.
Outfit details: Isabel Marant-Leather Vest, James Perse-Cashmere Thermal, Martin+Osa-Skinny Denim, Ash-Boots, Tom Ford-Sunnies
Langganan:
Postingan (Atom)
