Jason "go by my middle name" M.'s Profile

Great food, and really friendly staff - even chatted with the owner for a bit. Highly recommended if you're vegetarian, looking for healthy options, or just looking for a break from all the great seafood restaurants in the area.

You know that urban legend, about the guy who goes to a party, and this girl is totally hitting on him, but then he's drinking too much or she drugs his drink and when he wakes up he's in a bathtub full of ice and there's a note saying "Call 911, we took one of your kidneys," and the guy is like "oh no, not my kidney"?

Pretty much the same thing happened to me, but it was my gall bladder, and it was excellent.  5 stars.

I live in California now, so I've got all sorts of options for Mexican food.  But when I'm back home I always end up at Mariachi's.  The food is good, the prices are reasonable, and the staff is always engaging and personable.  They have a large room that works really well for parties, too.

The wait was really long, and the casino was smokey and gross, but once we finally got seated the service was fast and the food was good.  Everywhere you go in Vegas people talk about the steak, but go for the teriyaki chicken, the sauce is amazing.  I also have to recommend the root beer.

Dearest Quiznos, why do you toy with me so?  "Here, join one million other people in enjoying a free sub" you said with your flashy website.  I was young and naive, so I accepted.  The promise of free sandwiches was turned on its head by this Quiznos on Pear and Shoreline, which covered their doors with signs saying "no free subs."

My wife is vegetarian, so we like to check out places like this.  It also helps that it's in walking distance from our house.  Garden Fresh is not quite part of the Castro Street restaurant district so the prices are pretty reasonable.

The tofu soup they serve before meals is a bit bland, but has a nice subtle flavor that I like.  It's also served super hot, so don't burn your tongue.  The sweet and sour pork and the general's chicken are both good picks.  The staff is wonderfully friendly.  And you can get ice cream next door, so what else can you ask for?

Once when I was camping here we were setting up a campfire on a stony beach. I didn't have a place to sit so I picked up a big rock to move over by the fire. Underneath were a couple of snakes - my immediate instinct was to throw the rock down and smash the snakes... but at the last second I remembered that they were probably a threatened species! They had a poster about protecting them at the ranger station.

That is the closest I've ever been to becoming a Captain Planet villain.

Have you noticed the resurgence of popular interest in the afterlife?  Thousands of videos proliferate across YouTube and, disturbingly, cable television stations like The Learning Channel.  Credulous investigators stumble around old houses, misunderstanding the principles behind night-vision camcorders and infrared thermometers.  

If you go to the Winchester Mystery House expecting to encounter the ghosts of long-dead cowboys, you might be disappointed.  Unless ghosts hang out around gift shops, well-maintained landscaping, and annoying valley-girl tour guides.  

The house, and the history behind the house, are very cool.  The contrast between obsessive detail and total randomness makes this sort of like the evil twin brother of a Frank Lloyd Wright house.  It's an expensive tour but if you have any interest in U.S. history, architecture, or stories about crazy old ladies it's worth it.  But, as Harry Houdini found 100 years ago (check out the news clipping in the museum), no ghosts.

Now that I think about it, though, I did kick John Wayne's butt at Street Fighter II in the arcade.  So maybe the place is haunted.  By ghosts who are suckers for Ryu's shoryuken uppercut technique.  In your face!

As my mother struggled to climb into the booth seating, placed inexplicably 4 feet off the floor, I glanced at the buffet.  There were suspiciously few chafing dishes for such an expensive meal.  Turning my attention back to my beleaguered mom, I assumed the "trust fall" position.  All those years of corporate team building exercises had honed my human-body-catching skills to a fine point, luckily unneeded.

I filled my plate and climbed into my own trendy adult highchair.  I had passed on the prime rib - it was a bit rare for me and each slice carried a large fat globule, intersecting with the beef in a Venn diagram of greasiness.  The fish, though plain, was fresh.  As the scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and blobby-egg-on-toast-thing thickened my veins with cholesterol, I tried not to infarct.

After all, I wouldn't want to miss brunch with my mom on Mothers's Day.

We were too hungry to reach Santa Cruz, the county seat and largest city of Santa Cruz County.  The beach beckoned us, and we had hoped to reach the boardwalk with empty stomachs so we could gorge on cotton candy.  Molten sugar, spun and stretched like fiberglass, melts in your mouth--you can cram down impressive volumes of pink fluff if you skip lunch.

But we were too hungry, having taken a brief hike around Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park.  We saw Redwood Pizza and agreed to take a chance.  I am not one for greasy pizza, sallow cheeses and artless sauce.  Redwood Pizza was a pleasant surprise.  The toppings selection alone, with fresh garlic and sun-dried tomatoes, proved this would be a lunch to remember.  Or at least a lunch to write about on Yelp, which I am doing now.