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Are you too tired to find a filter for your #basic Instagram post? Are you cold despite donning your #basic black North Face jacket? If the answer is yes, a #basic fall drink just might solve your woes. Enter the pumpkin spice latte (or the “PSL,” as the kids are saying these days). It’s just the thing for getting into the fall spirit. We reviewed Hanover’s variety of pumpkin spice lattes on a four-star scale, so take a break from figuring out your #basic prof pic caption and let us guide you to the perfect latte.
It’s hard to move. No, seriously. As the weather gets colder and the leaves grow increasingly dead, it becomes a challenge to compel yourself to undertake the trek to Collis or the Hop. You’ll need to stock up on autumnal snacks to keep yourself warm and cozy indoors, but what sorts of food and drink are right for each dorm?
Mass Row (excluding South Mass): Apple pie
In case you live under a rock, fall is here. The streets are adorned with multicolored leaves, and Instagrams are radiating pure autumnal bliss. I kid you not, I have seen at least three captions riffing on the phrase “the apple of my eye.” Unfortunately, no amount of emoji creativity makes that pun original. But some basic treats, like baked apples, do deserve copious amounts of affection. Likes on my @focojoe Instagram will do…
How do you like them apples in FoCo? I am honestly wishy-washy. I find that the best apples out here are usually the red ones, but I am such a granny smith guy. Even on Rosh Hashanah, when apples and honey are delightedly consumed to honor the start of a sweet new year on the Jewish lunar calendar, I prefer the green ones. Despite this, most baked apples recipes call for a variation of a red apple, and I should be eating more red apples. This recipe is also a solid way to make the most out of softer apples. This dessert requires a moderate amount of labor, but the return of investment is disproportionately higher! Trust me.
Despite KAF’s lines (which are out of control this term) students love having their own personal café in the hub of campus. Ever wanted to know what your typical order says about you? Here are some heinously exaggerated, stereotypical personas that I made up to help you better understand yourself. You’re welcome.
You are so college, check you out. You’re on your way to office hours and need to make sure that you look as studious as possible. You are a classics major and won’t let anyone forget it. Straightforward and no-nonsense — you can order a cappuccino wherever you go. You’re a creature of habit and don’t like surprises.
Walking into FoCo on a Monday, you likely hold your breath in suspense, waiting to see what Worldview is featured that week. Some of the specials are definite hits, while others are disappointing misses. Where do you fit in? Take this quiz to find out which Worldview week best describes you.
Let’s be honest — the best part of FoCo is the cookies. Whether you eat them plain, with a glass of milk or as part of an ice-cream sandwich, they are somehow always so so good. How does this happen? How does the process work? Is it because of the bakers making them or something in the dough?
I didn’t know much about the place — I learned of its existence approximately 10 minutes before arriving. The ambience was overwhelmingly pleasant — it’s a classic bakery with prominent glass display cases and wooden floors and furniture.
Before I begin this week’s column about cake pops, I should reveal an important disclaimer here — I do not normally eat cake pops. For whatever reason, I don’t really like them! I think they’re are overrated, and I’m not a fan of the overly sugary frozen frosting. Both the flavor and texture of the frosting does nothing for my taste buds, and if I want cake, I will eat cake. Not a cake pop.
My aversion for cake pops started at a young age. I think it was largely caused by repeated mishaps with other foods presented vertically — ice cream in cones (I always order cups), kabobs, corn dogs — none of them really do it for me, and their fragility does not help.
As a member of the ’18 class, this past week or so has been eventful. Even for those with no connection to the Greek system, there was undoubtedly a shift in the campus climate — groups of men and women dressed up and running the convoluted gauntlet of rush.
For the less observant among us, the Phnom Penh Sandwich Station is a new addition to campus. The food truck sets up shop across the street from the Hop and serves lunch and dinner.
The wait was long, but surprisingly enjoyable. There were a few people in front of me in line, and I ended up with about a half-hour wait. Despite not having entered a physical structure of any kind, I felt like I was on another planet — right there on East Wheelock St. I ended up connecting with a fellow bystander over the fact that he had fished in my hometown of Grand Rapids, Michigan, this past winter. I realized that it was the first time in a while I’d experienced two things. First, I interacted with someone not affiliated with the College in any way. Second, someone was genuinely excited that I was from Michigan. This is the rose-tinted world of the food truck.
When it came time to order, I went right to the featured menu item, #1—the Phnom Penh Sandwich. The offering features fresh-baked bread with cucumber, cilantro, pickled carrots, chili mayo and your choice of meat. I opted for coconut jumbo shrimp, and washed it all down with a sweet lemon mint iced tea.
After power walking back to my room, eager to dig in, I finally tasted my meal. One word: Phnomenal (that one was all teed up, it had to happen). In all seriousness, the sandwich met my expectations and proceeded to soar further past them with each bite. The bread was warm and crisp, the vegetables tasted incredibly refreshing and the chili mayo added the perfect mild kick. The jumbo shrimp, once I got past their blatantly oxymoronic title, were fantastic. These were not the battered coconut shrimp you might find at an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet — though I have nothing against those. These were sizeable, juicy shrimp slathered in a delicious sweet and tangy sauce.
The sandwich is by no means a feast. I’ll admit to following up my meal with a trip to Collis—though to be fair, this move was only half motivated by hunger and half by the futile, perpetual war I wage to try and get my money’s worth from DDS. But an entrée is only $7 — $8 with shrimp — so this more than nullifies any possible complaint from me.
The iced tea was a rare treat as well. Served with a lemon wedge and mint leaf garnish, it was the perfect complement to my meal.
If you’re on the hunt for a great and exotic meal without having to venture outside the friendly confines of campus, look no further than the Cambodian cuisine of the Phnom Penh Sandwich Station.
4 out of 5 stars.
After about a 15-minute wait, I got a table in the back corner. The atmosphere was vibrant and the décor festive, although the place does feel somewhat cramped.
FoCo can often be hit or miss. Either Ma Thayer’s, the Pavilion or World View has your favorite or you must resign to eating something subpar and redeeming the meal with a chocolate chip cookie. We asked around to see what it would look like if all the stars aligned and your FoCo experience was everything you wanted it to be.
The crust, as always, was cooked to semi-blackened perfection and coated in a thin layer of garlic butter in lieu of marinara sauce. Next, a creamy layer of fontina cheese — with generous portions of tomato and prosciutto — made up the bulk of the dish. Finally, the surface of the pie was garnished with leafy arugula and shredded Parmesan and drizzled in lemon basil dressing.
The crunch of the crust, the gooey cheese and the almost weightless salad on top created a diverse range of textures as well as tastes. The peppery prosciutto and cheese would be sufficient to keep anyone warm even in the dead of a brutal Hanover winter, but the chilled salad topping complimented this feeling well. The balance is what makes the Summer Salad Pizza the perfect culinary embodiment of the onset of summer, in all its natural beauty.
It was a pleasant Saturday afternoon in San Francisco’s Marina district. The sun was out, as were the usual crowds of young families and trendy twenty-somethings. I am all too familiar with Chestnut Street and its array of clothing stores and restaurants, its always-busy Apple store and the seemingly immortal Marina movie theater. Susiecakes, however, is special — I have never once set foot in the store, despite having frequently passed its light blue walls and glass windows full of frostings from all over the rainbow. I have avoided this wonderland for far too long, and when the family for whom I was housesitting last weekend insisted I write about their whoopie pie for this column, I finally had the excuse I needed.
At the counter, I made the game-time decision to order it as a burrito bowl. This way, I reasoned, I could best acquaint myself —up close and personal — with the ingredients of what I was about to ingest.
The founders aptly describe C.R.E.A.M.’s vibes on their website, “It was a throwback to our childhood, when it became a ‘thing’ for us to sandwich rich ice creams and fillings between mom’s fresh-baked cookies.” The ingredients definitely taste homemade, and the store evokes a nice nostalgia of childhood. The store’s name, an acronym for “cookies rule everything around me,” is not quite the same as the Wu-Tang Clan’s 1994 single “C.R.E.A.M.” — “Cash Rules Everything Around Me” — coincidentally released a month before my first birthday. I may be old, but no one is too old to enjoy one of these ice-cream sandwiches.
You pick up a bowl of bibimbap at World View, being careful not to burn yourself on the piping hot stone, err…plastic bowl and breathe in the delicious aroma of sub-par Korean cuisine. You notice it’s missing a little something and head over to FoCo’s condiment section. As you reach out for what would be the perfect compliment to your meal, you realize something is wrong. There is no green cap on this red bottle of sauce…it’s…yellow? What you’re holding is, in fact, fauxracha.
The iconic green-cap, red sauce sriracha (pronounced see-rotch-ah, in case you’re curious) that we are most familiar with is produced by Huy Fong Foods and available at Collis. The one available at FoCo, however, is the lesser-known Roland Sriracha Chili Sauce.
Thanks to the joyous Instagram food account @Infatuation, Tartine Bakery has been on my radar for quite some time now. The place has established the kind of reputation amongst foodies — dedicated and otherwise — that aspiring bakers dream of. It’s been around for years, as the worn-out floors illustrate. It is here that famous food writer Michael Pollan had “the best bread I ever tasted.” It’s the type of place that I should have tried long before this weekend. When the company made national headlines this week for the announced merger with another local favorite, Blue Bottle Coffee, I knew this week would be the week to finally make the trek.
Maybe you do it for the protein. Maybe you do it for hot Collis Steve. Maybe you just like the danger of seeing someone flip your veggies, knowing that at any moment they could suffer serious burns in pursuit of the perfect golden-browned baby corn. Whatever the reason, you're in the Collis stir fry line. But which sauce will you choose?
I’ll get right to it this week – I am sure many of you San Franciscans are wondering why I waited until week four of FoCo Joe At Home to write about Bi-Rite Creamery, home to some of the world’s best ice cream. I kid you not, Bi-Rite has that kind of reputation. Located just across from Mission Dolores Park — arguably the social and cultural backbone of San Francisco’s Noe Valley neighborhood — Bi-Rite is a long-time San Francisco staple. I have been there many a time in my upbringing and have always enjoyed the ice cream’s high quality. The flavors really do ring through in a Morano-esque way — every spoonful is worth it. It is Bi Rite’s long-held dedication to quality and taste that dissuaded me from writing about it earlier — there is no need for another article out there praising the place, everyone knows that.
Bi-Rite is so well-known and well-liked amongst both locals and tourists that the line is always a good 25 people deep — and I mean always. I was in the area for over two hours this past weekend, and I’m not lying when I say the length of the line never dipped below 25. During primetime, from 2:00-5:00 p.m., the line only got longer. The wait for a simple scoop or two was a good 15 to 20 minutes — which is not long, all things considered, for Bi-Rite ice cream! But you have to really want ice cream to wait in this line. And I mean really. The line awkwardly snakes through the sidewalk and is constructed from red cloth lines like the ones airports use to control crowds of anxious travelers. I hate to say it, but Bi-Rite is not so different from SF International airport – delays are all too common. On a sunny Sunday afternoon, people are overeager to get some of this ice cream, and quite frankly, that in itself can be a drag. But let it be clear, those who make the wait are paid with full satisfaction — and then some. The location and the ice cream both cannot be beat.