Monday, September 22, 2014

GREGOIRE - grilled chicken sandwiches + my refusal to take the bus


I need to learn how to take public transportation. I actually have no idea how to get around without a car. I will say that my sense of direction has improved miraculously over the past few months, but I still can't take a bus or train to save my life. 

And now I live in Berkeley, where public transportation is everyone's saving grace. And I don't know how to use it.


Last weekend, my roommate Danielle and I decided we would finally do a bit of exploring. We wanted to try out Philz Coffee, a Berkeley hotspot, and set out on the 2-mile journey. On foot.

As I was saying, I really need to learn how to use public transportation because had we taken the bus, we would have ended up at our destination a lot less sweaty and frustrated. 

As always, we got distracted along the way when we happened across Gregoire, a French takeout restaurant famous for its fried potato puffs. Excited to try this Berkeley speciality, I was faced with utter disappointment and frustration when I found out all their fried items were fried in peanut oil. I'm allergic to peanuts. Actually, I'm allergic to all nuts. And yes, that also means I can't eat nutella. I hate allergies.


With my spirits dampened, but my stomach eager to see what else was on the menu, I ordered the grilled chicken sandwich with heirloom tomatoes, basil, and anchovy-garlic sauce. And as I took that first bite, my anger towards my allergies faded away as I was transported into bliss in the form of toasted, pillowy bread, fresh tomatoes, and garlicky chicken. 

This is my roommate Danielle with her pink lemonade. Classy af.

I just don't understand why we both looked so rough that day...

Going through these pictures and deciding whether or not I should put them in the post, it's so sad to look back and realize that despite the fact that we took extreme care to get ready and look cute that day, we both felt like we looked pretty gross. Nothing was working that day except for that sandwich I ordered. 


Damn, now I'm hungry again. It's currently 12:24pm on a Friday. I went to bed at 3:00am last night (or rather, this morning), woke up at 11:00am, and am dreading going to Math, my one class today, at 3:00pm. I'm also hungry despite the fact that I just ate a slice of my other roommate's, Rachel's, pizza, along with some plain yogurt. I hate awkward meal times. Like how am I supposed to choose between breakfast and lunch at 11:00am when the dining hall at my dorm isn't even open for lunch and the next closest option is half a mile away? The college struggle is so real.

*tries to figure out how to not look horrendous while getting a picture taken of me eating a gigantic sandwich*

*goes for the 'oh look, I'm going to pause while you take the picture before I resume stuffing my face' pose*

Gregoire was super cute and I yes, I really enjoyed that sandwich, but could I really do that 2-mile walk again? I don't know. Depends on how desperate I am that day. I really wish I could go back and try those potato puffs. Maybe I could ask them for special treatment and force them to fry some for me in vegetable/corn/non-nut oil in exchange for free labor. Would that work?

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