No, I had Milk AGAIN last night. (And I made up for Monday’s lack of pictures with SO MANY PICTURES.)
Don’t judge me. I’m already judging myself enough for both of us. (Or maybe I’m APPLAUDING myself.)
This is how it happened: I met up with a couple of friends last night at Bar Lubitsch for a former co-worker’s comedy show. The bar is decorated with Russian kitsch/propaganda posters and serves a million types of vodka. (Okay, hyperbole.) We were in a back room. One comedian aptly said that it looked like something out of “True Blood.” (Lots of red.)
I left with a few friends and we were all walking and talking, and it turned out that two out of four of us had never been to Milk (it’s a few blocks southeast of Lubitsch). So of course I, the ice cream loving instigator, was like, “We have to go NOW!”
The crazy thing is that one of the Milk virgins, Adam, literally grew up (and still lives), like, a mile away from Milk. That’s what I call Statue of Liberty syndrome.
My mom lived in the NY/NJ area until she was… my age, actually… and she never visited the Statue of Liberty because it was always RIGHT THERE. (The one time we were visiting the East Coast and planned to go, I sprained my ankle and we nixed it because there are apparently many stairs involved.) (What about the handicapped?)
Similarly, growing up I lived about an hour from Los Angeles and only came here every few years. It was too close to be a tourist destination, too far to be… convenient? Whatever.
I had a sundae on Monday (that’s hilarious), so this time I wanted to try an ice cream sandwich and the blue velvet cake. I ordered those two items (about $10 total) intending to share with everybody, but fate intervened. (Usually I wouldn’t be so bold, but I have the whole, “My birthday is next week” excuse.)
Here’s the vanilla bean ice cream sandwich. I think I read somewhere that the sandwich part is made out of what macarons are made of, so I’m going with that because it makes me very happy. But it might have been sugar cookies. (But no… the consistency was more airy than a sugar cookie… I’m sticking to my macaron-guns.)
As you can see, it’s chocolate dipped. Yessss.
The blue velvet cake is a sight to behold. It’s practically electric. As far as I could taste it wasn’t blueberry flavored (it was… the flavor of blue?), but it had a few blueberries thrown in for interest.
The blue sphere on top is a dried blueberry dipped in chocolate. You can find those at Trader Joe’s, if you’re interested.
I ordered my cake thinking we’d all share it, but then Rachel had very strong willpower and did not partake, Adam ordered his own thing, and Marites had to spend more than five dollars in order to use a card. So we ended up with TWO pieces of blue velvet.
I wish we’d ordered red velvet, so I could say, “One cake, two cake. Red cake, blue cake.” So lame, I know. But… captions don’t grow on trees.
A man in black scrubs (an evil nurse?) asked us if the blue velvet was better than the red velvet. I told him that we hadn’t tried the red velvet, but if he gave us some we’d do a taste test and let him know. He actually seemed to consider buying red velvet for us, which tickled me to no end. I felt like Miles on “Work of Art,” when he managed to convince Jackie that she should take naked sexual pictures of herself because it was artistic, when he really just wanted to see her naked.
But sadly I’m not as persuasive as Miles… next time, red velvet cake. Next time you shall be mine! (Not that I even know if I LIKE red velvet cake… but I’ll keep sampling it.) (Let’s be real: It’s cake.)
Adam ordered… I’m not exactly sure what this is. It’s either Rocky Road or Cookies ‘n Cream, and it was basically vanilla ice cream coated in chocolate goodness. (I’m assuming… I didn’t try it.)
When I uploaded this to my computer I had to rename it, and I just called it “poo.” Haha. And now… it just feels right.
Adam was the only guy amongst three young women who were eager to gossip about man-stuff. He was a very good sport about it all, and dished out some out advice from the male perspective. Between his words of wisdom and my blunt/bawdy take on things AND our respective experience as battle-scarred dating veterans, we were giving out some top-notch (and witty) advice. I kind of want us to have a Pot Psychology-style relationship advice show. (I loooove Pot Psychology.) But with a straight-guy perspective.
Send in your questions!
One more picture of the order before I get to the chaos/aftermath.
The resemblance to a black & white cookie pleases me mucho.
I was a little bit obsessed with the colors in the blue velvet, especially once I started to deconstruct it. (AKA shovel it into my stomach.)
There were also surprising little flecks of pink, probably from where the blueberries were before I hunted them down.
I call this a cake-splosion…
Apparently the cake turned my tongue blue. (WHAT kind of dye are they using?)
But luckily I wasn’t alone in cake-sumption.
This is why it’s great to have friends. I wouldn’t be emboldened to walk into an ice cream shop and eat TWO desserts by myself. Friends are such great enablers! (I mean… we also enjoyed each other’s company. Cake would not be fun with BAD friends.)
Adam aptly noted that I never show people in my blog. He wanted to be the first friend to actually APPEAR on my blog, and he also wanted to look as if he was suffering after eating EVERYTHING on the table. Adam, here’s your moment of zen. (I’m a little nervous, because Adam is a legit photographer and I took this on my camera phone… but he approved this snap.)
I like the reflection of the unsuspecting person in the background.
That shake (or whatever it is) was… espresso banana? It tasted… like those things. Good work, Milk.
So it was a very successful trek, and I am going to try not to go to Milk again until… next week earliest. (Every time somebody hears that I went there, THEY want to go with me because THEY’VE never been before. Somehow I’ve become the gateway to Milk.)
I think I would recommend the ice cream sandwich over the cake (if you’re the sort of sap who just orders one thing!). The ice cream sandwich was unique and delicious. And–let’s face it– blue velvet is a novelty. (Though I’d probably eat it again, if it was offered to me.) (I’m easy.)
We drove back to the Bar Lubitsch area and walked past a fire station that had one of those “Safe Baby Drop-off” decals. Too bad they don’t accept FOOD BABIES.
I fully planned on waking up early and doing some blue velvet cake penance at the gym. My alarm went off at 6am and I set it for 10 more minutes… and woke up at 6:50am. Kinda too late. At 6:12pm TONIGHT my alarm went off, and I realized that I must have flicked the AM to PM without realizing it. (I blame my discombobulation on the jolty earthquake that happened at around 4am… I think.)
But I’m going to yoga, so I’m okay. But if I see Sara there and she wants to go to Yogurt Stop… I won’t say no. (Still haven’t been.)
And now I also need to comparison-taste the blue velvet at The Alcove… see what I’m getting myself into?
All for you, people.
Nah, mostly for me.
[It seems as though posting these photos through Flickr as URLs makes them unclickable, so I think I’ll link my Flickr somewhere on here? I like giving you guys access to the full resolution pics.] [I mean, it’s still a cellphone camera, but… you know.] [Mission accomplished: See the column on the right.]
[Everything in the brackets above these brackets is moot now. I figured out how to link the pictures. Click away!]