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Coco-Nutty


Coco-licious!

Give me a dessert menu and I’ll skip over the inevitable death-by-molten-chocolate cake, the crème brulée, the sorbet—and definitely the cheese (although I always feel like I should want to eat cheese after dinner because then I’d be European or at least a legitimate food writer). I’ll toy with the idea of a fruit dessert or anything with caramel, but I’m truly loyal to nothing but coconut.

Some highlights in my life of coconut:

Go Fish


The goods at Manila Oriental Market.

Don’t get me wrong. Where I live in Bernal Heights, I have sun and tacos and mid-century modern furniture stores within walking distance, and I appreciate it, but every time I’m out in the Richmond or Sunset District, trying to decide between New May Wah market or Sunset Super (not to mention a pho joint or some Korean bbq place)—my ideas of heaven—I say the same thing: “If there were more trees out here and it wasn’t so [expletive] foggy, I’d move out here in a second.”

Kitchen Sisters


Everything is covered in chocolate at Kika’s Treats, including honey cakes and homemade graham crackers.

I recently attended the open house for La Cocina, “a nonprofit shared use commercial kitchen and business incubator… founded to serve as a platform for low-income entrepreneurs launching or expanding their food business.” (Thank god for websites and their business mission statements.)

Heavenly Food in the Midst of Hell

I dislike Costco as much as any good latte-sipping, intellectually-superior blue-stater. It’s the only place on earth where I start to believe there is indeed a culture war going on in this land—a war between smart, slim, urban people and their opposites. It’s an ugly, us-versus-them reaction brought on by fluorescent lights, over-stimulation, long lines and screaming kids.

So why do I belong to Costco, you ask? Because I needed a flat-screen TV. And like all good liberal elitists, you can bet your sweet patootie that bargains matter more to me than retail atmo. But that’s another story. The real story, for our current purposes, is that Costco has good food. Damn good food. Food that would make a Chowhound blush.
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