food, trucks, fun

Oh LA, why do you have so many yummy things to eat?  It’s putting a strain on my wallet, and my odometer.  Oh well.  Resistance is futile.

On Thursday, I had dinner with Celeste in Studio City.  Take a Bao.  How can you beat fluffy steamed buns and delicious fillings?  And S’mores Bao?  Pretty much why i needed to go to there.

The next day, took a detour to visit Matt on his last day as a McCormick EMT.  That man will be running a marathon tomorrow, and starting a new adventure as a paramedic on Monday!

Jess, Amanda and I met up for a food truck dinner Friday night in Canoga Park.  Enjoying the warm evening weather, we chowed on some sandwiches and fries. Then, a chance anecdote stirred up a longing I’ve had for about a year- Coolhaus ice cream sandwiches.

With the magic of technology, we tracked the Coolhaus truck’s location.  Fifteen minutes away, our frozen dessert await, however, the truck was due to pack up soon.  Racing over to an elementary school parking lot, we made it just in time.  While we waited in line, we watched a few flavors of ice cream, and cookies disappear from the board of availability.  Luckily, there were still plenty of delicious options by the time we reached the front.  Amanda and I pigged out on a two story sandwich made with vegan carrot cake cookies, balsamic fig & mascarpone ice cream, and brown butter & bacon ice cream. Jess opted for a nutella and toasted almond ice cream. Well worth the excursion.

Today, I met up with the family at Alpine Village in Torrance.  Alpine Village is a little German enclave complete with bierhall, deli, chapel and assorted inexplicably economically viable shops selling an odd assortment of germany related crap.  Hoping to cheer Bayern Munich on to a Champion’s League final victory, we sat in the bierhall surrounded by other red clad supporters.  Alas, victory was not to be.  Soccer (football, fußball-whatever) you’re pretty cruel sometimes.

After the match, we toured the village, and a German language newspaper caught my eye.  I should probably try to read it.

Back home, we watched Senna, a documentary about formula 1 legend Ayrton Senna. The sound of the F1 engines revving, and the squeal of tires somehow excited Gordie. I didn’t catch the beginning of the howl, but at least I managed the last few seconds.


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