Good To Go

Goddammit. I’m sick. 

It’s irritating on obvious levels. But the big rub is that I walk around, all puffed up like a peacock most of the time, touting that I simply do not get sick. But anyone can take one look at me right now and know that’s a load of crap. It would appear I have temporarily acquired Walter Matthau’s nose and I am entirely unable to pronounce any words involving the letters N and/or M. And let’s not even mention the small mountain range of soiled tissues that have become my number one accessory of late.

But oddly I have not lost my appetite.

It is now a new year: 2012. I welcome this year. I’d say it’s already off to an auspicious start. Well, except for the whole sick thing. But I suppose it’s worth it. Fred was sick before me, you see.

Wait, that's right, I was in a car accident last week. No one was hurt, but my car went through over a grand worth of repairs. The other car was fine. I suppose it was all officially my fault, but those tourists stopped at a green light!

Okay, so I’m sick and I caused a car accident that has set me back a considerable chunk of green. All in the first week and a half of a new year that I am heralding as auspicious. Hey, I’m in a good mood, what can I say?

Things look bright. I am going on a mini getaway next weekend to someplace called Inverness. Apparently I will not even have cell service there. I find this to be both frightening and tantalizing. It looks like it will rain there that weekend, so we are anticipating much cooking and snuggles. Works for me. Then, in February, my dad and his girlfriend are coming to visit. I always get excited for some QT with Pops. Plus we always eat out a lot at all the fun places he hasn’t been yet. Cha-ching!

Anyway, things just feel right in 2012 despite the sickies and the car situation.

In case you, my fellow Angelinos, have not noticed, 2012 thus far has hardly been Wintery. In fact, it’s been downright Summery. I do believe it was in the nineties last week. I guess it’s fine. I can’t do much about it anyway. Although, being sick seems even worse when it’s warm and blue and sparkly out. It makes me feel guilty for curling up in a ball with my box of tissues, hot tea and a blanket.

So I won't.

I like to pretend I’m not sick. I’m out in the world. I’m sitting at one of my haunts, Cheebo, having something I have been eating at least once a week for a couple of years, now. It doesn’t matter if it’s Winter or Summer, I can eat their chopped salad any season. I often come here to write (free wi-fi), and Uncle Dougertons and I historically meet up about once a week-ish to have dinner. We always split the chopped salad to start. And we always sit at the bar.

The staff knows me, and my glass of sauvignon blanc is always placed in front of me right as I seat myself. They know not to allow me to eat more than one ramekin of their complimentary home-made potato chips. Sometimes I bring the kitchen fresh herbs from my garden to use. When the power goes out in the canyon I will camp out at Cheebo and read and graze and sip for hours.

Cheebo is not cool or hip or in or sceney. It’s really orange inside and has pretty garish artwork on the walls. The music is usually a little bit too loud and not as calm as I’d like. There is a television above the bar that is always on (though I do appreciate that during baseball season). But there is something to be said for our neighborhood spots. The places that provide us with a sense of community and comfort. Places that are inexpensive with solid food and perfectly acceptable wines by the glass.

So, here I sit, sick with an appetite, at the bar at Cheebo, in the middle of a Wednesday. I’ve got a glass of ice water, a bowl of cream of broccoli soup and my favorite salad. Ever. As I’ve been writing this I realized that, while I have Tweeted and Four SquaredCheebo and my salad love, I have never written about them. And so I feel they deserve their due (and they deliver!).

I’m pretty sure the guy sitting next to me at the bar is sick too. He’s drinking hot tea and has a tissue. I sure hope he is because my ears are blown out from blowing my nose and I can’t hear. So I can’t tell if I just burped loudly or quietly, and more importantly, if he heard me.

Cheebo: Good To Go

7533 W. Sunset Blvd.

Los Angeles, CA 90046

323.850.7070

One year ago: Cremini Mushroom & Meyer Lemon Risotto

Two years ago: Chocolate & Chile de Arbol Brownies 

FOUR years ago: Oyster Stew

My Little Chickapea

The mother of a friend of mine from my high school days referred to any inclement weather as weatherin’. So, for example, if it was raining or snowing out, it was weatherin’ outside. I am aware that this is strange as there is always a state of atmosphere, always weather at a place, whether it regards heat, cloudiness, dryness, sunshine, wind or rain. But you have to admit: it’s weatherin out really gets the point across.

Well, it has been weatherin’ more than usual here in the city of sunshine. In fact, it’s been weatherin’ so much I – not wanting to be out in the cold, wetness – whipped through my Netflix and had to hit the video store. Remember those? It had been so long since I had been in that they had to renew both my address and credit card information.

I rented 4 DVDs, more than usual, and the max one can rent at a time at my store. I then stopped to pick up some dinner to go from Greenblatt’s, a sufficient amount of wine (ahem) and headed back up the hill to put on my sweatpants and max out on the couch with mountains of movies. It seems like it has been a while since I’ve had an evening like that, being such a busy body. I often have to force myself to stop tinkering about and just veg out.

So, after finishing 500 Days of Summer and halfway through The Ugly Truth (Lay off! Everyone has guilty pleasures! Plus, have you seen Gerard Butler??) I got a hankering for some popcorn or some such thing.

I had no popcorn.

As you now know, I do so love a crunchy, salty snack. I also love to improvise and concoct with items in my refrigerator rather than going to the store with designed menus in mind. Time for some kitchen composition.

Although one might consider this a deviation from my chillaxed evening on the couch, with no tinkering allowed, it was so fast and easy that it hardly counts. Popcorn would have taken just as long.

And it was even better.

With this combination of elements, it can just keep on weatherin’ out there a little longer. Perhaps next time I will actually watch a W.C. Fields movie. Um, probably not. 

Roasted Chickpeas with Garlic and Sage
Serves 2


Ingredients:

2 cups chickpeas, rinsed and drained
2-3 tbsp olive oil
3 cloves garlic, very coarsely chopped
6-8 sage leaves
½ lemon 
coarse sea salt

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 425.

In a cast iron skillet, heat the oil. Add the chickpeas, garlic and a pinch of salt, and sauté for about 5 minutes. Be sure the beans are well coated with the oil, then add the sage, and remove the pan from the stove.

Place the skillet in the oven and roast, giving it a shake every so often. Roast until the chickpeas begin to turn brown, about 15-20 minutes. Remove the pan from the oven and set aside to cool a bit.

When the chickpeas are still hot, sprinkle with a little additional olive oil, a little extra pinch of salt and a squeeze of lemon.

Chickpeas