Om Cafe

Om Cafe
http://omcafe.com/
23136 Woodward Ave, Ferndale, MI 48220
Vegetarian (Vegan Friendly)
QISA (4, 4, 3.5, 3.5), $11-14, Vegetarian (Vegan-Friendly)

It was a cold, wet, snowy day when I stumbled into the Om Cafe.

Wow. That last sentence reads like Robert Frost smoking pot with the crew of the Firesign Theater. Kids, go ask your parents. I’ll wait.

Perhaps, I should start again.

The Om Cafe is a 31-year old family affair, started way back in 1985 by a Colleen Smiley. The restaurant’s Website describes Colleen as a woman who was “waging a war of vegetables against meat, antibiotics, growth hormones and processed food.” Passed on to her eldest son Jason Smiley, and then eventually passed on to Jessica Norwood, a woman, “whose parents had been bringing her to the Om Cafe she she was three years old,” this hippie hideaway is obviously a labor of love.

Any epicurean establishment started as a political movement runs the risk of being a relic, a testament to a by-gone era. I’ve seen this time and time again, typically with old natural food co-ops that never learned to keep up with the Trader Joe’s, Wild Oats, or Whole Foods phenomenon. I’ve seen it with old vegan lunch spots that never learned how to marry flavor with fervor and that simply crank out food that tastes raw, earthy, and unrefined. Frankly, I was surprised to find out the Om Cafe was as old as it was; it felt like a new entrant into the vegetarian food market.

The interior of the small restaurant was decorated with strikingly colorful paintings by SooMee Lee, a local artist with her own expressionistic style. The alt rock music over the loudspeaker made me think of a particularly trippy Pink Floyd album with violins added in, but in a good way. Needless to say, the restaurant was creating its own modernistic style that leaned toward “in your face” but then fell back toward its own aesthetic groove.

I’d even be willing to go out on a limb and guess that back in 1985, there was a lot more paisley and sitar music, and a lot less trippy modern aesthetic groove with violins. But that’s just a guess.

Even the food has its own artistic flair. I ordered the El Mexicano, a big plate of loaded nachos, which was a crazy flavor mix of beans, black olives, kalamata olives, baked tofu wedges, lettuce, tomato, cucumber, avocado, jalapeno slides, and onion. It was a group think of spicy, salty, chunky, crunchy, and meaty, all vying for the attention of your tastebuds. It was as if the color palate on the walls was bleeding into the food. But in a good way.

The meal was also my first experience with kukicha tea, a tea composed of stems, stalks, and twigs, giving it an earthy, toasty, and slight carob flavor. The tea was served with a slice of lemon, which added even more flavors to the taste palate. The fact that I got free refills didn’t hurt either.

The menu is not very large, but I have to give them points for originality. The loaded vegan mac, for example, adds kale and tofu to the noodles and mac sauce and tops the entire dish with crushed peanuts, cilantro, and lime. It’s macaroni and cheese meets pad thai. The General Tso Dinner is a mix of sauteed broccoli, cremini mushrooms, diced organic tofu, organic brown rice, and black sesame seeds, all covered with their house made sauce of ginger, tamari, and sesame oil. And bottles of tamari and sriracha join the salt and pepper as standard table condiments.

My only complaint was that at times, the restaurant felt a little too much like an art gallery. The waiter, for example, seemed a bit stand-offish and perfunctory in his duties until I asked him questions about the tea. Only then did he engage me in more than the basic level of human interaction.

Maybe this is what happens with any local family restaurant when one’s clientele becomes so local that the restaurant forgets to reach out to the strangers, the travelers, the new vegetarians, or the casual explorers. If so, this just won’t do. Not if they expect to last another 31 years.

Of course by then, a whole new generation will be in charge of the restaurant, and the style will shift again to match the times. The artwork will be neo-socialist retro steampunk and the menu will be inspired by farm-to-table pan-African-fusion cuisine.

I don’t know. Don’t ask me. I’m sure I will need my grandkids to explain it all to me over a shared plate of loaded nachos.

PJ's Lager House

PJ's Lager House
http://pjslagerhouse.com/
1254 Michigan Avenue, Detroit, MI 48226
QISA (4, 3.5, 3.5, 3.5), $8-10, Vegetarian-Friendly

Sure, we've all heard about Detroit’s dire economic forecast. Stories of high unemployment rates and soaring city debt have created an image of a post-apocalyptic urban sprawl ruled by gangs, mutants, and rodents of unusual size. Whenever I travel there for business, I expect to climb over rubble, leaking pipes, rotting corpses, and a doleful Eminem sobbing into his hands on my way to meet with pulmonologists still trying to improve the lives of patients suffering from pulmonary hypertension.

The reality, of course, is nowhere near this extreme. A drive through the city reveals trees even in the most urban settings, music in the downtown area, and a vibrant restaurant culture. In fact, according to the New York Times, Detroit is in recovery, drawing in developers and entrepreneurs.

Therefore, it should come as no surprise that buried in a desolate part of the city, overlooking the intersection of I-75 and Highway 10 near the MGM Grand Detroit, is a friendly little bar with an even friendlier menu. I speak, of course, of PJ’s Lager House.

The building dates back to 1914 when it was a neighborhood bakery and restaurant. Masquerading as a furniture store during prohibition (“I’d like to buy a chaise lounge and a shot of Templeton rye, please”), it re-emerged as a beer garden as soon as Prohibition was repealed. And then it changed, and changed again, and changed again. The current incarnation still looks a bit antique, but the menu is anything but.

I ordered the tofu banh mi, a delicious sandwich of marinated and deep fried tofu triangles, served with lettuce, cucumber/carrot/jalapeno slaw, a homemade peanut sauce, and chopped red peppers, all served on a crusty bolillo bun (basically a Mexican version of French bread). Complementing this were the best sweet potato fries I’ve had in a long, long, long time. They were medium thick cut and fried to a crispy perfection. And of course filled with healthy vitamin A and beta carotene. I cleaned my plate because I needed my vitamins.

Beers ranged from standard boring watery macrobrews to very intriguing bottled and draft microbrews. I opted for an incredibly good porter whose name escapes me (I am kicking myself for not scratching it onto my hand) followed by a glass of Brooklyn Lager on tap.

The bartender was a very friendly sort and seemed to recognize everyone who entered, including and especially the family with the young child. He had a constant smile and patter with the young hipsters and aging hippies decorating the joint. It was definitely a non-traditional neighborhood bar in a non-traditional neighborhood.

I had the good fortune of visiting on a quiet night when the bands were not playing. After a long day at work, I wanted to take in the food and beer at my own pace and let the day’s grind wash away. Still, had I come on one of the more musical nights, I would have gladly paid the cover to hear the Corn Potato String Band (an old timey American string ensemble) or maybe Sleepy Kitty (a two piece indie rock band) or perhaps the Smoking Flowers (a Nashville country rock duo) or even Jason and the Punknecks ("Punk makes nice with Country").

I just don’t think I would have walked home by myself late at night. Come on. This is Detroit, after all.

Munch

Munch
http://www.munchrestaurant.net/
104 North Marion Street, Oak Park, IL 60301
QISA (4, 4, 3.5, 4), $7-14, Vegetarian (Vegan-Friendly)

Munch is a hidden gem in Oak Park, Illinois. It is a small cozy restaurant sporting local artwork on the walls, silver globe paper chandeliers, and an over-worked but still attentive, pleasant, and very friendly waitress who is more than happy to explain anything on the menu. Munch is a cash-only restaurant, with an in-store ATM for patrons (like me) who don’t automatically keep cash on hand. It is homemade comfort food that makes artistry out of meaty, or at least meaty-tasting dishes.

David Hammond, the food writer for oakpark.com, praised the restaurant in his video blog, “You Really Should Eat This.” Admittedly, at times, his review of Munch feels like an apologetic justification of vegetarianism to a skeptical omnivorous public nervous about veg heads indoctrinating their children. However, I agree with his general premise that one can not compare vegetarian food to meat-based food since they are different entities entirely. Munch, he explains, stands on its own. And he really, really likes the Wrap Italiano, a tortilla wrap of seitan breakfast “sausage”, organic tofu, marinara, and either provolone or vegan mozzarella. I personally can not vouch for this dish, although it did look quite tasty, but I definitely can say, to steal Hammond’s punchline…

You should definitely eat this: “Beefy” tostado plate. These tostados are definitely a fork food, spilling over with seitan-based “beef”, cheese, black beans, corn, red onion, tomato, and sliced avocado on top of a crunchy tortilla. The entire dish is served over a bed of lettuce, radicchio, and shredded carrot, giving it an artisanal feel. The proteins and veggies blend well, and the flavors and textures really pop. In addition, the avocado is at the perfect ripeness. Yes, it's those little things that count.

You should definitely drink this: Cacao almond sin smoothie. This thick smooth drink is a blend of cacao powder, dates, almonds, and bananas. Smoother than you would expect, this a decadent-tasting shake.

Although Oak Park is farther west than my typical route through Chicago, I may have to make a couple more side trips…for research purposes of course. I need to know if you should definitely eat the Groovy Breakfast Plate, an organic tofu scramble with sautéed portabella mushrooms, bell peppers, onions, garlic, and spinach. Or if it you should possibly eat the Tarragon “Chicken” Wrap, with marinated “chicken” seitan, caramelized onions, roasted bell peppers, leafy greens, cucumbers, and herbed veganaise. Or if you might possibly want to definitely eat the Groovy Plate with pan-seared “beefy” marinated tofu, mashed sweet potatoes, red quinoa pilaf, sautéed greens, and a kale salad with orange vinagraitte.

Who am I kidding? Of course you should. And wave to me while you are there.

Inn Season Café

Inn Season Café
http://theinnseasoncafe.com/
500 East Fourth Street, Royal Oak, MI 48067
QISA (4, 4, 3.5, 4), $10-18, Vegetarian (Vegan Friendly)

Royal Oak, Michigan, a tree-laden northern suburb of Detroit, was the home of the infamous 1920s fascist anti-Semitic radio personality Father Charles Coughlin.

There, I said it. Now I can move on.

Royal Oak is also the birthplace of iconic director Sam Raimi, birthplace of bechinned actor Bruce Campbell, early home of Eagles founding member Glenn Frey o.b.m., the setting for 1990s sitcom Home Improvement, and the home of the Detroit Zoo. Add to that resume the Inn Season Café, an elegant, cozy 34-year old vegetarian restaurant that is destined to become one of my new favorite haunts.

It is possible that the restaurant is not nearly as good as I think, but somehow they managed to find, target, and exploit all of my weaknesses. The Budapest mushroom soup, for example, was possibly the best mushroom soup I’ve ever eaten; creamy golden broth, big slices of mushroom, bursting with visible herbs and exotic flavors. Or how about the 4th Street Burger served on an herbed artisanal whole grain bun that is soft but thick with a perfect yeasty flavor. I can’t help but praise stuff like that.

The burger itself was grain-based, comprising oats, lentils, brown rice, millet, cracked wheat, cornmeal, sesame seeds, and sunflower seeds, and somehow it held together with just the right chewiness, crunch, and flavor. The banana strawberry smoothie was fairly standard, which is to say it tasted like a very decent smoothie. Even the coleslaw, while a little heavy on the raw onion, was a vibrant mix of cabbage, carrot, red onion, and a light sauce, using fresh herbs to bring out the flavor.

The restaurant defies traditional classification, mixing its elegance with a modern appeal. Interesting still life paintings, including one of floating artichokes decorate the wall. Bottles of olive oil complement the salt and pepper shakers on the wooden tables. Tattooed ladies with multiple piercings cheerfully take your order. And then there is the elderly ladies at the corner table discussing their grand kids. For all I know, they’ve been coming here for 34 years.

To top it all off, the restaurant is kosher certified by Kosher Michigan. Take that Father Coughlin.

Ritual Café

Ritual Café
http://www.ritualcafedsmiowa.net/
1301 Locust St. Ste. D Des Moines, IA
QISA (3.5, 4, 3, 3.5), $6-10, Vegetarian

Ritual Café is a deep blue dot in a light blue city in a purple rural state. Although it is one of the very few all vegetarian restaurants in Des Moines, Iowa, the vegetarian menu comes off as secondary to the restaurants primary role as an ultra-liberal, culturally diverse coffee house.

The walls of the Ritual Café are covered with works of local artists, and the art runs the gamut from paintings to paper cuts to daguerreotypes. The upper walls are covered with concert posters from local musicians, and every bit of space in between sports a bumper sticker, poster, or silk screened mat that praises the goddess, invokes meditative Sanskrit letters, supports Bernie Sanders, advertises Cesar Chavez Day, or rails against Israeli apartheid of Palestine (but conspicuously ignores every other country with any marks on their civil rights record, including the United States). Despite the low-key, relaxing atmosphere, Ritual Café does not take the safe road, finding something that will offend at least someone. Even their tip jar says, “support counterintelligence.”

Which doesn’t change the fact that they make a tasty sandwich.

I ordered the Sweet & Spicy which has curry chickpea spread, mango jam, massman curry spread, spinach leaves, and red onion grilled on marble rye bread. The sandwich was a wonderful mix of texture and flavor, combining sweet mango with a moderately spicy curry. The chickpeas are mashed only slightly to give the sandwich a topography of textures. Served with thick cut tortilla chips, it makes for a decent lunch.

The other lunch items were equally tempting, but I will have to wait till my next visit to try out the Po Boi’ (red and green peppers, onions, artichoke hearts, cheddar and feta, grilled on garlic focaccia) or the black bean burritos with sweet potatoes and Serrano peppers. Or perhaps I will stop by for breakfast instead and try out the Grateful Oats made with rice milk chai and hempnut granola, or maybe even the breakfast bowl with steamed eggs, roasted red peppers, kalamata olives, and feta cheese.

I went for a simple cup of coffee, which was reasonably decent but nothing to rave about. I suppose I could have gone for something more exotic, like a Mayan Mocha (espresso, Mexican chocolate and steamed milk) or a Horchata Latte (espresso, steamed milk, almond, cinnamon, and vanilla flavors.) Maybe, just maybe, I could have gone all out with an Omega Hemp Nut Smoothie, a series of drinks that seem to combine exotic flavors, health benefits, political consciousness, and a straw.

It is strangely refreshing to walk into an establishment and feel like the conservative odd man out. Me, a man whose parents were at the forefront of the liberal elite at CalTech, a man who has only once in his life broken his Democratic voting streak to vote Independent, a man who has raised his two sons on a steady diet of multicultural rhetoric, rational thought, dogmatic challenge, and sympathy for the downtrodden. I had the strangest urge to rouse a little rabble and talk a little trash. I wanted to challenge every one of their uber liberal assertions. Israel is the bad guy and not Hamas? Do you even read newspapers? How do you juxtapose goddess symbology with Sanskrit meditative letters straight out of a patriarchal tradition?

But I didn’t, and I shouldn’t, and I won’t. In the end, Ritual Café is a relaxing, chill coffee house in the best of liberal traditions. The staff are polite, the menu is creative, and the atmosphere is calming.

I’ll save my belligerence for Sunday morning at Cracker Barrel. They don’t serve hemp nut smoothies.

Upton's Breakroom

Upton's Breakroom
http://www.uptonsnaturals.com/breakroom/
2054 West Grand Avenue, Chicago, IL 60612
QISA (3.5, 4, 3.5, 3), $5 – 9, Vegan

My first experience with seitan was about 30 years ago in my pre-vegetarian years. My mother, of blessed memory, and her close friend found a recipe for “wheat meat,” which would supposedly magically turn whole-wheat flour into a believable meat substitute that was cheaper and leaner than beef. Looking back through the lens of adult experience, I understand her thinking. She had found a way to stretch our family dollar, reduce our saturated fat load, and satisfy her inner experimental food scientist. As a biology teacher, she was always up to some scientific experimentation.

I was not in the house while she lovingly prepared the seitan (I was out that evening doing something suitably teenagery), but I did get to try the final product later that evening. I have a very clear memory of a spaghetti sauce with a substance that looked very much like ground beef but tasted like bland, chewy whole-wheat flour. I also remember chewing this rubbery substance for a good five minutes before I was finally able to swallow. It was a decade before I touched the stuff again.

As a young married, and now vegetarian, husband, I took on the lion’s share of cooking duties. I was constantly looking for new recipes with which to impress my lovely wife, and I came upon a recipe for homemade seitan, a meat substitute with different and more versatile properties than tofu, TVP, tempeh, or okara. The process involved making a dense dough of whole-wheat flour and water, rinsing and pressing the dough in multiple changes of water, and simmering the resulting grayish blob in broth. The result of my experimentation was a slightly more satisfying and slightly less rubbery meat substitute. A secondary result was a layer of dried starch water all over the kitchen that my wife discovered the next day when she came in to make a sandwich. Since that day, my wife has made me promise two things: 1) never make any desserts that contain tofu, and 2) never make seitan completely from scratch ever again. I violate either of these rules at my peril.

Nowadays, I make my own seitan with vital wheat gluten flour. This flour, which can be found at many specialty shops, is basically instant seitan. Just add water, broth, and/or spices, and simmer, boil, or steam. I am still perfecting my seitan recipe, but my family will attest that my end result is a vast improvement over my early experimentation. Sliced thin, my breaded, fried glutenschnitzel is a family favorite. Just recently, I developed my own gluten-based sausage link which is fantastic on a hot-dog bun with spicy brown mustard or veggie-chili, particularly on a hot July 4th, while you’re spitting watermelon seeds, drinking your second beer, and blowin’ s$%!@ up. Vegetarians may talk a good game about ethics, but it don’t mean we can’t get our redneck on.

This long-winded exposition is simply my way of saying that I respect anyone who masters the art of seitan. It’s a tricky beast.

Upton’s Breakroom, a tiny Chicago restaurant associated with Upton’s Naturals, has pretty well mastered the process. Although Upton’s Naturals wholesalers sells jackfruit products as well, their seitan is obviously their crowning achievement.

What is most interesting, or at least most amusing, about Upton’s Breakroom, is that the restaurant feels like the quintessential Chicago meat scene. Situated in an industrial Chicago neighborhood, the clientele is mostly men between 20 and 50. The stocky, Mediterranean-looking head chef at the grill looks straight out of central Blues Brother casting. I expected him to start yelling “Cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger!” (Kids, ask your parents.)

Except he didn’t. Instead, he engaged me on the ethics of veganism, discussed the recipes they use for their fake cheese sauces, and walked me through the most popular items on their menu. This is no hippie, college-town, trustafarian, liberal, save-the-world vegan lunch spot. This is a blue-collar, Chi-town, blink and you’ll miss it, comfort food, love-The-Bears-but-what’s-up-with-them-this-season vegan lunch spot.

After much perusal of the many options, I decided to order the “Chicago-style” Italian sandwich, along with a side of fried bacon mac. Nothing else seemed to speak of Chicago cuisine like an Italian hoagie and fried bacon mac. This was the only way, in my thinking, that I could truly judge the establishment. Heck, anyone can make a kale salad.

The sandwich was a glorious mess of herbed seitan, mild giardiniera peppers, celery, marinated carrot, and onion on a hoagie bun. The seitan was mildly spiced and covered in a juicy broth that immediately soaked through the bread. The flavors and textures melded perfectly creating a messy but satisfying taste of Chicago.

The fried bacon mac and cheese (cheeze?) was slightly charred at the edges, with a crusty and crunchy texture that helped sell the bits of seitan bacon. The cheeze sauce, although primarily made of nutritional yeast and tahini, did not have the bitter yeasty flavor I typically associate with vegan cheeze sauces. It honestly wasn’t until I finished my meal and was driving away did I really start to notice the yeast aftertaste. I guess you can never completely hide nutritional yeast. It’s insidious that way.

My honest impression was that the restaurant was good, very good in fact, but not fantastic. I only rated the quality a 3.5 because to compete with the fancy Chicago restaurant scene, one has to go above and beyond. And Upton simply goes above. However, I wish them well, and I definitely recommend my readers to try them out. When you go, you might even try out the kale salad. I am sure it is wonderful, and I would love to know what you think. I’ll be in the corner, hunched over my vegan bacon ranch cheeseburger.

FINAL NOTE: Upton’s Breakroom definitely falls into the Analog, Comfort Food mode, which is likely to spark a small amount of controversy in the foodie community. Hard core vegans and carnivores alike may challenge the idea of making vegan analogs of meat instead of simply exploring new avenues of vegetables, beans, and nuts. One of my meat-eating cousins mused, “If I wanted to eat a sausage, why wouldn’t I go for the real thing?” My response to this is two-fold. First, I flip this around. If there were a way to eat sausage without harming animals, why wouldn’t I go down this path? The issue is not the “purity” of the food, but rather the ethical, nutritional, and moral context of the food. Second, I claim that the “purity” of the food is a false construct unto itself. Meat sausages (as an example) are amalgams that in no way resemble their original source. In fact, most food items are processed, salted, stretched, and/or dried to no longer resemble their humble origins. Therefore, if what one tastes is primarily salt, spices, and processed protein anyway, why not do so in a vegetarian/vegan context?

As my rabbi used to say after a particularly long discourse, “The discussion is yours.”

Monty's Blue Plate Diner

Monty’s Blue Plate Diner
http://www.montysblueplatediner.com/
2089 Atwood Ave. Madison, WI 53704
QISA (4, 3.5, 4, 3.5), $6-10, Vegetarian-Friendly

The casual vegan traveler to the college town of Madison, Wisconsin, might be forgiven for overlooking Monty’s Blue Plate Diner. After all, on its surface, Monty’s is pure Americana, complete with a wall of second-tier and once long ago first-tier celebrity photos (sorry Arlo). At first glance, the menu is nothing more than carnivore-centric standard dishes such as burgers, corned beef hash, Reuben sandwiches, BLTs, chorizo breakfast burritos, and pork chilaquiles. However, hidden just below the surface is an impressive vegetarian/vegan menu with a variety of redefined diner-style dishes, such as vegetarian chili, vegetarian hash, walnut burgers, huevos rancheros, veggie and goat cheese crepes, tempeh bacon “BLT”, vegan pancakes, falafel wraps, and tofu scramblers. Point of fact, Monty’s meatless menu is larger than that of many strictly vegan restaurants I have visited.

I wavered between the Breakfast Sweet Potato Hash and the Heathen Vegan Shoplifter's Delight; it was a hard-fought battle. In the end, I went with the Delight, mostly because it sounded more interesting overall, but partly because it came with thick cut steak fries. In the end, I did not regret my decision.

The Shoplifter’s Delight was a sandwich of marinated Portobello strips, fried Bandung tempeh (a product of the local Bandung Indonesian Restaurant), caramelized red onions, fresh avocado, and a lemon-tahini dressing, all served on a baguette. The tempeh was marinated just enough to hide its sourness, giving it a mild, pleasant flavor that complemented the other sandwich ingredients. In fact, most of the flavor came from the lemon-tahini dressing, with an accompanying sweetness from the onions, and a satisfying bit of umami balance from the mushrooms and avocado.

I substituted the waffle fries for the standard fries. They were thick cut, meaty, and slightly spiced. I regretted nothing, even if I had to make several promises to myself to skip dinner and jog the length of the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport a couple of times on my evening layover.

I ordered a cup of coffee. It was diner standard coffee, but I have discovered that most diners offer a thoroughly decent cup of coffee that beats out McDonald’s, Dunkin’ Donuts, and many of the other chains that peddle their over-hyped swill as high-brow brew. The coffee was medium roast, low acidity coffee that spoke of the best parts of the Midwest.

Speaking of which, for just a little bit more, you can order the coffee and a donut, instead of just the coffee. Monty’s donuts are made fresh in-house, so naturally, I had to try one. In the interest of science and all. Oh my. This was not your standard Dunkin’ Donuts, Krispy Kreme, Tim Horton’s greasy pastry. This was doughy and perfectly sweet, balancing at the border of donut, cake, and bread. I got mine with sprinkles because, yeah. I regretted nothing, even if I had to make several promises to visit Planet Fitness every night and morning the next week.

The service at the restaurant is just what you would expect from a Midwest-nice establishment. The very cute waitress was friendly and attentive but not in a flirtatious or ego-stroking way, which frankly was just as effective.

What’s to say about Monty’s? Carnivores and vegans can sit across from each other with their Bistro Burgers and Walnut Burgers and simply talk about the weather. Liberal college students can eat their Vegetarian Hash, their conservative salt-of-the-earth grandparents can nibble at their Country Breakfast, and both can argue about whether or not Trump is a racist (he is) and Sanders is a socialist (he also is).

It is a place for everybody. How many restaurants can say that?

FINAL NOTE: Across the street from Monty's is a Gail Ambrosius, a most excellent high-end chocolatier that sells dark truffles, dipped fruit, and other exotic confections infused with an amazing variety of fruit, tea, and spices. After my hefty meal, I waddled across the street to buy a gift for my lovely wife, figuring that the chances of being tempted into chocolate excess were much lower if I was already full from lunch. Unfortunately, they were giving out free samples of their jasmine truffles, which naturally, I had to try. But I regret nothing, even if…oh Lord.