As a restaurant, True Love Café falls short on every level. The service (or lack thereof) is minimal. The cashier behind the cafeteria-style counter was semi-friendly but kept wandering off in between customers because, in her own words, she “had something to do in the back.” Once at the front of the line I noticed a slight scent of alcohol in the air. I’m not quite sure if it came from the very animated cashier or not.
The restaurant boasts two dining rooms but one of them is in the front yard and one is in the back. The restaurant is basically a converted house; I wasn’t sure but it looked like someone was living on the second floor. The tables looked as if they were bought in bulk at a Home Depot lawn furniture sale.
The food tasted as I thought it would: like a bunch of teenagers put together some snack foods that they found in the kitchen. With items such as Pizza Paninis, Nachos, and Hummus it definitely didn’t cater to one particular food palette. They did however, have an extensive specialty coffee list, written on chalkboards strewn across the ordering counter. Some of the names for the flavors were fairly creative too, such as, White Hot Chocolate and Michael Jackson Hot Chocolate (hmm… interesting choice).
The “dining room” in the back of the house was a giant cement slab covered by a large white tent. The “Home Depot” tables were scattered haphazardly around the room. There were obviously no smoking regulations (if there were they weren’t enforced) which may cause a large headache for the non-smokers in the area. At one point, mid-meal, I noticed a restaurant worker taking out the trash right through the middle of the dining room (I wonder if that meets FDA regulations).
Despite the restaurant’s many shortcomings, it did succeed on one level (perhaps the level it was aiming for in the first place). It makes for a low-key hang-out for college-age people. With wireless internet available one could sit and do homework with friends and just hang out. So while I would not recommend this as a great place to eat, I would tell people that if they want a place to sit and use free internet, I know one.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Friday, October 19, 2007
The Most Wonderful Time of the Year
I could try to be original, name any other holiday and make up some reason to say it’s my favorite, but in all honesty Christmas is my all-time favorite. There are so many little things that make Christmas my favorite; maybe it’s mom’s burnt cookies or grandma’s 50 year-old Christmas lights (which I’m sure are a fire hazard). Whatever the reason, there is no other time of the year I enjoy more.
I grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area so having a “White Christmas” was unheard of. My home town’s Christmas decorations consisted of giant lit-up snowflakes stuck on the lamp posts down town and a giant tree covered in yellow ribbons. Whoever decided that yellow was a Christmas color should have been fired.
For me, the Christmas season always started the first week of December. My mom and dad would take my brother and me to the Home Depot to pick out a Christmas tree on their lot. My dad would bring his pocket knife and cut the vinyl strings that bound the boughs of each tree. As my dad cut the ties the tight green cylinders would spring to life. It was kind of the urban version of taking the family out to the woods to chop down a tree.
From that week on, I would walk, eat and sleep Christmas. My mom and I would decorate our house with garland and icicles while my dad and brother would spend hours outside putting up Christmas lights. My dad’s Christmas lights were perhaps the most comical part of the Christmas season. He always had some weird obsession with anything multi-colored or blinking. One year it was a giant blinking arrow on the corner of our house. Another year (trying to symbolize the true meaning of Christmas) he decided to make a Christmas light-covered cross. What he didn’t think about before making it was the color lights too use- we ended up having the only house on the block with a giant red cross on our chimney. I kept expecting to get donations left on our door step.
Christmas day always came too soon. My entire family would gather at my grandparents’ house to eat dinner and open presents. My grandma always had a tea tray filled with home-made cookies made from recipes handed down through years. I remember that as my grandma became more and more health conscious over the years her cookies began reflecting the lack of fattening ingredients. When I was little, almost all of her cookies would be gone by the end of the night, but now they are nearly always left un-eaten.
My favorite part of the day would be after all of the presents were opened and the extra-dry turkey had been consumed. My family would usually gather around the table and play board games. The kids were allowed to be on their parents’ teams, which would make the kids feel so much older.
So, while I never had a sleigh ride, or made snowmen on the front lawn, Christmas was still the most thrilling experience for me. Too use the all-too-familiar cliché- it is simply the most wonderful time of the year.
I grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area so having a “White Christmas” was unheard of. My home town’s Christmas decorations consisted of giant lit-up snowflakes stuck on the lamp posts down town and a giant tree covered in yellow ribbons. Whoever decided that yellow was a Christmas color should have been fired.
For me, the Christmas season always started the first week of December. My mom and dad would take my brother and me to the Home Depot to pick out a Christmas tree on their lot. My dad would bring his pocket knife and cut the vinyl strings that bound the boughs of each tree. As my dad cut the ties the tight green cylinders would spring to life. It was kind of the urban version of taking the family out to the woods to chop down a tree.
From that week on, I would walk, eat and sleep Christmas. My mom and I would decorate our house with garland and icicles while my dad and brother would spend hours outside putting up Christmas lights. My dad’s Christmas lights were perhaps the most comical part of the Christmas season. He always had some weird obsession with anything multi-colored or blinking. One year it was a giant blinking arrow on the corner of our house. Another year (trying to symbolize the true meaning of Christmas) he decided to make a Christmas light-covered cross. What he didn’t think about before making it was the color lights too use- we ended up having the only house on the block with a giant red cross on our chimney. I kept expecting to get donations left on our door step.
Christmas day always came too soon. My entire family would gather at my grandparents’ house to eat dinner and open presents. My grandma always had a tea tray filled with home-made cookies made from recipes handed down through years. I remember that as my grandma became more and more health conscious over the years her cookies began reflecting the lack of fattening ingredients. When I was little, almost all of her cookies would be gone by the end of the night, but now they are nearly always left un-eaten.
My favorite part of the day would be after all of the presents were opened and the extra-dry turkey had been consumed. My family would usually gather around the table and play board games. The kids were allowed to be on their parents’ teams, which would make the kids feel so much older.
So, while I never had a sleigh ride, or made snowmen on the front lawn, Christmas was still the most thrilling experience for me. Too use the all-too-familiar cliché- it is simply the most wonderful time of the year.
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