My Birthday

Yesterday was my birthday, which means fun times with good people. We ate at the Radha Yoga & Eatery -- I had the raw version of the beet and apple salad... I was distracted by laughing too hard at innocently-intended remarks about people eating out at restaurants so I forgot not only my age but also to photograph my raw pizza -- a spinach cashew 'ramasan' cheese creation. Very nice.
Also had some chocolate mousse pie. Scrumptious. Borderline scrumpdiddaliumptious.

The night was young, so we went to Checkers. There, Michelle made one woman from Ontario very happy by singing a karaoke love song. Michelle also made Donna very happy. Oh I'm so funny. That joke was poorly executed and not really a joke.

Lori displayed her artistic talents and resourceful bent by writing messages in cream when no other writing utensils were available.

Trying to think of other things food-related... um nope. Time for a walk on the seawall while the sun is here.

Radha Yoga & Eatery

Last night I checked out Radha @ 728 Main Street (upstairs) with some friends who had been there before and liked it.

And yes, it's very nice. A welcoming atmosphere but a totally different feel than that of Gorilla Food, my first raw restaurant experience.  Think candles and brick walls and little lights around the windows.  While not a raw vegan establishment, Radha features one (sometimes two earlier in the evening) raw main dish and a raw chocolate mousse pie dessert. (Spring Online Menu in pdf.) I didn't try the dessert; I had the pizza special (coconut, green curry, daikon, carrot, salad on the side -- there are more ingredients but I forget already) and was full. The pizza was good and light: the crust was thin, almost like a chewy granola bar (but better) and more pliable than the Gorilla version. I mixed it into my salad and tasted the rainbow.

A friend had the vegan gnocchi and said it's delicious (we all agreed it looked delicious). And another ordered the beet and apple salad -- another winner.  Yep.

Next, we went to a sausage party. There I had the privilege of talking to a charming young guy (~ 20 years old) about fantasy novels. I know nothing about fantasy novels, so instead of changing the topic to the secret life of plants, I did what I always do and title-dropped one of the books I recall Steve loving: Ender's Game. I felt so smart and topical. Yay!  But I'd thrown my trump card too early.  The kid went on and on about the book, and about some trilogy... and as my eyes glazed over (like doughnuts.. see? food related), the smart feeling devolved into a feeling of wanting to sleep. Or maybe the sleepy feeling measures higher on the emotional comfort scale I'd typically use to assess how well I'm doing at parties where I know 3 people... -- wanting to sleep means I'm comfortable, right? Comfortable and warm. Good.