Vodka & Pancakes

the things I eat and the drinks I drink…a Louisiana blog

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Temaki…and Jazz Hands. And Recreational Drugs.

I can’t make fun of it because I genuinely love it.  But that said, it’s slow.  Like my dead grandmother slow.  Which is ok to say because she was mean as shit.  And didn’t like me.  Which is impossible.

Also, I told the owner it was my “favoritest restaurant of all time” and he wasn’t too impressed.  Like it was the 1,000th time he had heard that that day.


I always get the tomato miso soup because its ultra delicious in my tummy.  I wanted to take a picture, so I told my boyfriend to move his hands.  This is what I got.

temaki- jazz hands

Jazz hands at Temaki.

But my problem started when I walked into the Bearded Lady at 4:30.  Our two beers were $8.  My manfriend was like, “wow, $8 is really cheap.”  Is that what we have been programmed to think?  Eight dollars can buy me an 18 pack (if I’m getting all college style on your ass and get Keystone).  Anyway, we then hit the Usual then Temaki.  Apparently 5:45 is not an acceptable time for anyone under the age of 65 to eat, so we had to have a drink first.

Or several.  Thats how we normally do it.


Afterwards, we went to the Chat Room, another mistake, as I currently have a monster fucking headache and am having to one-eye it to write this.  Anyways, I read online the Chat Room serves minors, but I didn’t see anyone other than us under the age of 40 there.  That said, some guy I unfortunately know walked up and joined us saying he was about to leave to go eat at Mijo’s (buy the Groupon!  It’s always there!).  He asked if after we wanted to come over for “some weed and coke if yall like to party” (I shit you not).  Is that a measure of how much you like to party?  I thought I liked to party, but am I in the baby party league?  Apparently so because I thought the most interesting thing about that sentence was the fact he was going to go eat at Mijos.

So as he left with my imparting words of ‘get the quinoa tortilla soup and dare to get off drugs’ (boom) I realized I guess I’m not a ‘cool’ partier.  When tortilla soup is more appealing than recreational drugs you are with me in the baby party league.

I’ll just stick with my 18 pack of Keystone.  God, I’ll never be cool.



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Food Truck Park. AKA “Taco Park” with Peter Jackson

Some friends of ours opened the Fort Worth Food Truck Park behind our house about six months ago so we try and go every other week (which means no matter how bad it is I will never say anything derogatory about it).

I call it “Taco Park” which I think drives my boyfriend insane, but it’s easy to deduce it down to that.  They occasionally serve tacos.  So just add that to the long list of other things he says I do that drives him crazy- which if that’s the truth makes me wonder how he hasn’t actually gone full blown insane yet.

I do really like the Taco Park but I have only two complaints.  1- it’s too hot outside, and,  2- my vegetarian truck left and never returned.  Cryface.  But, on occasion they have the Zombie vegan truck but it never seems to want to be there when I go.  I am one of probably four vegetarians (occasional vegan) that live in the state of Texas so I need to figure out when that shit happens and be present.

So this was weird.  My boyfriend and I ordered and went and sat at a table.  We  got up to go get our food and left our full drinks, my purse and phone (I’m an idiot) with keys sprawled out on the table top.  Now, if I saw that, I would believe someone was currently sitting there but apparently that isn’t obvious to everyone.

I returned first (my boyfriend is very non-confrontational so I’m pretty sure he was hiding somewhere) and found a guy that looked like Peter Jackson of Lord of the Rings fame (pre-weight loss and no I haven’t seen Lord of the Rings) sitting at our table.

So I just went and sat down next to him not completely sure of what to say.  At first he continued eating like I wasn’t sitting six inches away and finally looked at me and asked if I had already been sitting here.  Instead of motioning to all my shit littered across the table, I just shrugged and said, “yeah, I think so.”  He told me to give him a sec (apparently his food was so good he wasn’t bothered that he had seated himself at someone else’s table and currently had a stranger watch him eat) ate a couple more bites and finally got up.  Then, surprise surprise, my boyfriend materializes out of nowhere and sits back down.  Oh, all conflict is gone.  Here I am…

Anyway, Taco Park is good but it’s hot outside.  Zombie Truck here I come.  Eventually…

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More Daybreak. Sure…

This may be my fourth post about Day Break but I have some (day)breaking news (I’m sorry).  THEY HAVE A DRIVE THRU.  How I have managed to pay for my food up at the counter and not notice that he is handing food out of the side of the restaurant every time is beyond me.  Why didn’t I ever ask myself, where is this outside food going?  Who is eating this outside food?  Well, going forward it will be me.  And by ‘going forward’ I mean Saturday.

Oh, and I found out who did all their amazing artwork.