I didn't mean to leave out any DTR (determine the relationship) information. It wasn't intentional. Well, it was at first because I really didn't know where this relationship was heading. And then I just got lazy. I assumed you already knew. But that was my mistake. And then I started receiving emails asking, "Is Eat Drink & Be Merry your boyfriend?"
Oh man, I've got some explaining to do.
Dylan and I met a year ago, along with a bunch of other Los Angeles foodbloggers. Before we met, I thought his kitchen boo-boo's and pixelated headshots were quite hot and had a quiet crush on the boy before we even met. In planning the Musha dinner, Dylan asked for my IM screename and we ended up chatting online for hours at a time. He woo'd me with his dry humor and times when he sent me random/horrible songs like Supermarket Love Affair. Through the weeks that we chatted, I wondered, "Could I possibly fall for a stranger that I met over the internet???"
The night at Musha was nerveracking. Sure I was excited to meet Daily Gluttony, Colleen Cuisine, Deep End Dining, Best of LA and all the other loves in my foodblogging life. But Eat Drink & Be Merry...please oh please don't be a freak.
Have you ever had this happen to you? Have a major crush on a guy and the minute he opens his mouth it's like, "EWWW...what was I thinking???" Nothing is more uncomfortable than an EWW moment and the hours trying to avoid the person. Luckily, at Musha's, I didn't have any EWW moments with Dylan. He was sweet and adorable. He'd come by and check up on me, making sure I was eating enough. Thank God he wasn't a freak, but rather one of the sweetest hosts I've ever met. Gone away were any possiblities of a "EWW moment" and Dylan locked in the crush.
Later that night Dylan found me online. We talked about the night, about all the cool people we met, and then Dylan made the move and asked, "Hey, can I call you?"
"OF COURSE!" No...erase erase erase!
I mean, "Uhh, yea, you can call me."
Over the next few weeks, we talked more and more both online and on the phone. But like any girl, I kept wondering, "When is this guy going to ask me out?" Call me old fashion, but I wasn't going to be the one to ask him out. FINALLY (uhhummm), after several months, D asked to hang out late May for a night at Soundlessons and a spontaneous taco truck meal at Tacos Ariza's. We dance, we talked, we ate on crates on Echo Park Blvd. It was one of the sweetest dates ever.
6 months later, we ended up here...
At AO 'effin C celebrating our 6 months together. D caught me off-guard on a Friday night as he drove up to AOC. Although his car windows were closed, I'm sure pedestrians on 3rd St. could hear my screams of food joy.
Named after the Appellation D’origine Contrôlée, the top category in the French system for ensuring quality wines, AOC is the perfect name for a wine bar alluding itself to the the world's love for wine. But don't be fooled with the label of AOC as a wine bar, because it's not just a wine bar. Suzanne Goin's is a serious chef and her tapas-sized portions of Mediterranean concoctions are extremely soulful.
We started off with a serving of harissa, olives and bread. How did they know I wanted to burn a hole in my stomach? Her harissa is so incredibly addicting.
With a dad hooked on chorizo and eggs every Saturday and Sunday morning, you can see that the addiction has passed on to his offspring. I am a sucker for chorizo! This was my first time trying lomo, a dry-cured pork loin, meaty and tender with virtually no fat. Each lomo is cured with salt, garlic, paprika and other spices to accent the delicious dry-cured flavor. The lomo was incredible. The two chorizos from Spain were amazing as well. I think this plate would have been perfect for a party of 4. With just the two of us, the taste of lomo and chorizo was getting a bit repetitive.
I grew up loooooving liverwurst and pâté. The fois gras at A.O.C. is amazing. Yea, I said it, I love fois gras.
WOW. AOC has their grilled scallops perfected to a science. The salbixada, a spanish chile paste really pulled the simple scallops and braised leeks together.
Black squid ink rice. Perfectly cooked squid over a very tasty squid ink rice. Everything was fine until I started to notice squid ink residue whenever I wiped my mouth. I looked up and D's entire grill was black.
Our last plate for the night was this order of beef cheeks. So delicious and tender. I'll eat cow face anyday.
So that was our 6-month anniversary dinner at AOC back in January. We're still together, falling for each other over sushi finds and Hometown Buffet Un-Valentine's Day dinners. But really, neither of us expected a serious relationship to come out of our innocent comments and IM chats. I'm amazed how we can spend hours sitting next to each other without speaking a word, but rather typing away on blogspot.com as we head into the food world that brought us together. I am intrigued in the way he profusely sweats every time he eats even in the winter and how he meticuously organizes his spices and sauces. When we're sharing food, I love how he'll find out what I like and then pretends to not like it just so I don't feel bad for hogging it up. I don't mind that he's a designer denim whore and that his closet looks more like Planet Funk. And I have grown fond of that one band shirt he wears weeks at a time. And although he drives me crazy when he stomps onto my hardwood floors with his shoes on. I easily forgive him when I hear him plead, "Ok ok ok. I won't do it again." Even though I know he's going to do it over and over again.
Thank you for joining me on my journey for food and love and everything in between.
8022 W. 3rd St.
Los Angeles Ca 90048