Tuesday, 5 April 2016

Planet Organic (or as they like to be called - Organic Earth): Vegan Cookies - can they really make up for your "Car Licorice"?

This is a fast and furious review (not to be confused with a review of "The Fast and the Furious". We don't "allow" that sort of "garbage" on here). It's going to be unfussy, and just the way I like my morning baths - quick and dirty. Actually, I don't know if you could technically call what I do in the tub a "bath", per se. It's actually more of a sterilization session if anything, where the water is scalding, and the traditional "scrubbing" is... minimal. But it all does go down "in the bath", and I think that may be the only criteria in order to constitute a bath being taken. So, yeah. The hell with it. Let's call them my "morning baths".

Anyway, apart from my body's entire disinfection via submersion into what is essentially a boiling porcelain cauldron, I have a few other rituals that I find help jumpstart my day and my version of daily productivity. Using the bathroom is one of them, but it's so hard to capture that whole scene with only words. It's the kind of experience that needs to be filmed in order to really be felt, but since we still live in a world where videotaping one's self in the middle of toilet-time is considered "taboo", or "disgusting, or an "audition for Two Girls One Cup", I can't really take the leap and publish one here. I can, however, go over the more "vanilla" details of my routine, beginning with (and really, ending with) getting coffee from Planet Organic. Sorry. Organic Earth. Jesus.

As my readers should by now be aware, I only drink espresso-based coffee drinks. What can I say, it's the L.A. in me (for the record I have never been to, or know anyone who has been to, LA.). To be more specific though, I tend to lean towards either Mochaccinos or CaffĂ© Mochas. What is the difference you ask? Ask somebody else. I'm too embarrassed to admit my not knowing by having to pose that question to any barista, so I don't have the answer and it's safe to assume I never will. Now, I used to go to Java Blend everyday fir my fix, but the problem with JB is that it is really popular for coffee pickups. This means you can almost guarantee on running into somebody you know, somebody you kind of know, or the worst of all the offenses, somebody you barely know, while you're there. It really is murder having only seconds to decide how or if to acknowledge someone (Do I wave? Does this person even remember me? Do they think I should say "Hi"? Do people nod at one another anymore? Do any of these coffees come with a gun so I can just put myself out of my misery right here, right now?) and if it can be avoided, then you better believe I avoid it.

Needless to say I had to find a substitute coffee haunt, and since for the longest time I vowed never to return to Pro Skate because of my pride and inclination to be disproportionally embarassed (I'm obviously exaggerating and love Pro and the peeps there- Hi Chantal!) I tested the waters at Organic Earth. And that is where I found myself this morning, with Hayley Parsons, ordering my stupid drink and getting two of my little favorites - the vegan cookie and the peanut butter ball.

I am not vegan if that's what some of my posts have suggested. I know me saying that implies that I think of the term as some sort of cruel accusation, but I don't. I'm just not. Even if I try to tell you I am when I'm drinking, I'm still not. I do like vegan food, though. A lot, and since vegans so desperately want the rest of us to hop aboard the canola-oil-powered vegan train, they make it a point to ensure their meal alternatives are f'ing amazing. Case in point: this vegan cookie you see on your right.

Okay. I forgot to take a photo of this before I started eating it. This cookie is only $2.50, maybe. I forget. Point is, it's so freaking good. They're big too, and dense as hell. As you cannot really see, there are seeds in there, there are chocolate chips, and there is a lot of brown (in other words check, check, check). I like to have this little bugger first thing in the morning to make up for my even more "first thing in the morning" snack - my car licorice. Car licorice is licorice you keep in your car to eat while you're on your way to get your "real" breakfast. It's yummy, often frozen, and really terrible for you. But like I said, you throw back a couple a vegan anythings after two or three Twizzlers, and everything kind of just sorts itself out. I'm sure of it.

To even further satisfy my sweet teeth, I like to grab a classic peanut butter ball. This one goes down fast, and since I want to save it for later, you won't be getting a good look at it. Though, I did take the time to set up a really stunning photo, incorporating such props as a mirror and natural light streaming in through a window. I tell you, it was quite a scene. I could barely get through this shoot without tearing up at the raw beauty of it all. The peanut butter ball is however much money, and is a gift from god. If you haven't had one, go buy one now. If you want to buy two, then buy two. And so on, and so on, and so on.

The coffee at this place is good. I think it's Java Blend so I mean, yeah, it is what it is. There is a super nice chick who works behind the counter with glasses and she is cheery up the wazoo. The debit machine can sometimes be a sticky wicket, but no need to be a dick about that. It's just a touchy piece of shit and that's life. The only reason it bothers me so much is because I have to hang onto it longer when it's screwing itself up. Hanging on means exposing my horribly hang-nailed thumbs to whoever is working. They are not a pretty sight, and it gives me anxiety thinking about the level of disgust that is being experienced by whoever lays eyes on them.

Anyway, that's about it. Organic Earth is pretty solid (though the groceries are hella-expensive) and I give their café a 6 out of Harvey's because that's the first number that came to my head, and my Mom always said when you're writing a multiple choice exam, you gotta go with your gut. She wasn't necessarily generous with the advice, so I have been forced to apply that to basically everything life hands to me. (Just kidding, she also told me that "There's more to life than just partying"...)

I leave you on this fine Tuesday afternoon with some killer dance moves performed by myself, dressed up as my alter-ego, 17-year-old male rapping/dance battling sensation Jonathan Mosher. This one is for the girls.

If you want updates from "The Regular Food Critic", along with book news, 
please follow my author page on Facebook and my Twitter!
Show me you care, even if you don't:

No comments:

Post a Comment