[100% veg*n ] Brassica Supperclub: It's like vegging out on the lam

[Guest guest]

i just love reading this blog ...

 

 

 

gNy

now a VEGAN since Dec. 12, 2007

 

 

 

HOME BAKED GOODIES

NOW AVAILABLE ... order now!

www.gnysmagicwhip.com.ph

www.geocities.com/sweetkikaysbakeshop

http://geradineparong.multiply.com(632)8500809

 

 

 

 

 

fraggle <EBbrewpunxvegan chat ; vegan-network <vegan-network >Thursday, August 6, 2009 3:27:07 PM[100% veg*n ] Brassica Supperclub: It's like vegging out on the lam

http://www.sfgate. com/cgi-bin/ blogs/culture/ detail?entry_ id=44879Brassica Supperclub: It's like vegging out on the lam...Courtesy of Brassica SupperclubNot soup. Super.My dear friend and editor, Zoe decided to become a vegan some years ago for the sake of a magazine article she was writing. I found the entire thing abhorrent and counted the seconds until her six-month experiment was over. But six months turned into a year and then another year until finally, I came to accept that my friend Zoe is officially a vegan.No meat, no dairy, no food or drink that any precious creature might have suffered for."You're nuts!" I'd scream, diving into a pot of duck-liver mousse. "How on Earth can you live like this?"In celebration of Zoe's recent birthday, I told her to pick any restaurant in town. "You

sure?" She asked me. "Because I'm happy to go anywhere, but there's this vegan supperclub that sounds fun. It'll be an adventure!"I'm always up for adventure, if for no other reason than I'll have something to tell you fine people. Zoe sent me a link to something called Brassica Supperclub: An Underground Dining Experience and a list of dates she was available.As far as I knew, we were going to a vegan restaurant with things like nut pizza. So you can imagine my confusion when I called the Brassica Supperclub phone number and woke someone up. The groggy voice on the other end of the line was just as confused as I was, grumbling, "Wha? Dinner? Who is this?!?!"You know, they don't do this at Gary Danko.I returned to the Web site and found an email address and the note, "Please provide your preferred date, number in your party, and contact information. We will get back to you shortly with a confirmation and the event

location."Event location? What the hell is going on?I sent an email requesting a reservation for two on a Friday night and received an excited response, confirming that indeed, two of us were booked.Okay. Where the hell do we go? And when?A few days before our reservation, I received another mysterious email, this time containing a residential address, a dining time, and a secret password."Dear Zoe," I wrote my friend. "We are all set for your illegal, underground, vegan, hippie, freakshow, orgy, nut pizza dinner. I'll pick you up at 7. Love, Bethy."Zoe and I arrived early and decided to get a drink before paying to eat dinner at a stranger's house. As we sat at a dive bar a block away, we wondered what was in store for us. We knew that we'd be served four courses and we knew we'd be sitting on the floor. We also knew that it was probably wise to arrive in advance of the 7:30 dining time as there was a

possibility we'd be seated at a table with others.This was out of the question as far as I was concerned. I felt snide comments brewing within and didn't want to have to stifle them for the sake of what were sure to be uptight, humorless, vegan strangers.Nervously, we made our way to the address listed on the email and rang the buzzer of a nondescript, Inner-Sunset home."Password, please."I don't know the rules on revealing the password here or elsewhere and I fear the wrath of the Critical Mass crowd, so let's just say the password was the name of a late 80s award-winning film. We were buzzed in and asked to remove our shoes.Zoe and I found ourselves in an immaculate, lived-in private home and were ushered into the living room set up like a small restaurant with seven tables about a foot off the ground. We grabbed the last 2-top and adjusted the provided pillows."Well, this is certainly an

adventure!"It was made clear to us that guests were more than welcome to bring their own wine, but guessing that arriving with a Big Gulp of Mountain Dew might be frowned upon, Zoe and I stuck to the provided water and hot tea. The staff of Brassica Supperclub was made up of three people, two of whom worked in the kitchen and a lovely server, who peacefully explained the evening to each of the tables. Sitting cross-legged on the floor of someone's living room, I wondered what we'd gotten ourselves into as the first course was presented.To my delight, there wasn't a nut pizza in sight. Instead, we devoured a gorgeous bowl of zucchini soup. Soup is often said to be the best test of a chef, something about attention to detail. And if that's the case, these vegan, hippie, secret-password chefs might be onto something. Each bite was an explosion of fabulous, organic, magical zucchini."My God, this is fantastic." We gushed.

"This is literally extraordinary. "The courses came slowly as our lone server patiently presented and explained the food to each table. We'd been there two hours before dessert came and while sitting on the floor for ages isn't exactly like kicking back in a Barcalounger, the food made our evening well worth the effort.Zoe and I both checked out the facilities in an attempt to confirm that people did actually live in what was presently a restaurant.I snooped in their shower. They do.I guess I'd never really given fancified vegan food a chance. Will I relinquish my love of Epic Roasthouse and its glorious meat and cushioned chairs? No. I f--kin' love that place. But I'll never look at zucchini soup the same way again.Dessert finally arrived, consisting of blueberries atop coconut "cream" in a nutty pastry shell."This is divine!" I whispered. Even my longtime nut-pizza companion was quite impressed.

"Seriously! This is wonderful!"Dinner, it's safe to say, was a hit.Nearing 10 pm, the Brassica Supperclub staff appeared in the corner of the living room to a rousing round of applause. We were asked to spread the word, tell our friends and of course, pay for our meal. But they don't bring you a bill at Brassica Supperclub. There's a dinner plate by the big pile of shoes and you're supposed to leave cash, $35 per person being the suggested donation.I have no idea about the legalities of Brassica Supperclub, and quite frankly, don't really care. Normally I'm uptight about such things, preferring my dining experiences to be approved by some sort of Department of Health. But our adventure was delicious and fun, a little bizarre and provided us with excellent cocktail-party fodder.Assured by our hosts that blogging about our experience is allowed, I enthusiastically encourage you all to go. Your experience will be weird and

fun and gourmet and adventurous and very, very, very San Franciscan.And hey, if I can do it...Posted By: Beth Spotswood (Email) | August 05 2009 at 12:05 PMRead more: http://www.sfgate. com/cgi-bin/ blogs/culture/ detail?entry_ id=44879# ixzz0NRc1UtKDhttp://brassicasupperclub.com/wordpress/"Hobbes: Do you think there's a God? Calvin: Well, SOMEBODY'S out to get me."

[Guest guest]

If only i live in SF i will definitely visit & try their meal but hey, i'm in the phillippines (asian country) ... but i will suggest this to my friends.

 

im proud to be a vegan!

gNy

 

 

now a VEGAN since Dec. 12, 2007

 

 

 

HOME BAKED GOODIES

NOW AVAILABLE ... order now!

www.gnysmagicwhip.com.ph

www.geocities.com/sweetkikaysbakeshop

http://geradineparong.multiply.com(632)8500809

 

 

 

 

 

fraggle <EBbrewpunxvegan chat ; vegan-network <vegan-network >Thursday, August 6, 2009 3:27:07 PM[100% veg*n ] Brassica Supperclub: It's like vegging out on the lam

http://www.sfgate. com/cgi-bin/ blogs/culture/ detail?entry_ id=44879Brassica Supperclub: It's like vegging out on the lam...Courtesy of Brassica SupperclubNot soup. Super.My dear friend and editor, Zoe decided to become a vegan some years ago for the sake of a magazine article she was writing. I found the entire thing abhorrent and counted the seconds until her six-month experiment was over. But six months turned into a year and then another year until finally, I came to accept that my friend Zoe is officially a vegan.No meat, no dairy, no food or drink that any precious creature might have suffered for."You're nuts!" I'd scream, diving into a pot of duck-liver mousse. "How on Earth can you live like this?"In celebration of Zoe's recent birthday, I told her to pick any restaurant in town. "You

sure?" She asked me. "Because I'm happy to go anywhere, but there's this vegan supperclub that sounds fun. It'll be an adventure!"I'm always up for adventure, if for no other reason than I'll have something to tell you fine people. Zoe sent me a link to something called Brassica Supperclub: An Underground Dining Experience and a list of dates she was available.As far as I knew, we were going to a vegan restaurant with things like nut pizza. So you can imagine my confusion when I called the Brassica Supperclub phone number and woke someone up. The groggy voice on the other end of the line was just as confused as I was, grumbling, "Wha? Dinner? Who is this?!?!"You know, they don't do this at Gary Danko.I returned to the Web site and found an email address and the note, "Please provide your preferred date, number in your party, and contact information. We will get back to you shortly with a confirmation and the event

location."Event location? What the hell is going on?I sent an email requesting a reservation for two on a Friday night and received an excited response, confirming that indeed, two of us were booked.Okay. Where the hell do we go? And when?A few days before our reservation, I received another mysterious email, this time containing a residential address, a dining time, and a secret password."Dear Zoe," I wrote my friend. "We are all set for your illegal, underground, vegan, hippie, freakshow, orgy, nut pizza dinner. I'll pick you up at 7. Love, Bethy."Zoe and I arrived early and decided to get a drink before paying to eat dinner at a stranger's house. As we sat at a dive bar a block away, we wondered what was in store for us. We knew that we'd be served four courses and we knew we'd be sitting on the floor. We also knew that it was probably wise to arrive in advance of the 7:30 dining time as there was a

possibility we'd be seated at a table with others.This was out of the question as far as I was concerned. I felt snide comments brewing within and didn't want to have to stifle them for the sake of what were sure to be uptight, humorless, vegan strangers.Nervously, we made our way to the address listed on the email and rang the buzzer of a nondescript, Inner-Sunset home."Password, please."I don't know the rules on revealing the password here or elsewhere and I fear the wrath of the Critical Mass crowd, so let's just say the password was the name of a late 80s award-winning film. We were buzzed in and asked to remove our shoes.Zoe and I found ourselves in an immaculate, lived-in private home and were ushered into the living room set up like a small restaurant with seven tables about a foot off the ground. We grabbed the last 2-top and adjusted the provided pillows."Well, this is certainly an

adventure!"It was made clear to us that guests were more than welcome to bring their own wine, but guessing that arriving with a Big Gulp of Mountain Dew might be frowned upon, Zoe and I stuck to the provided water and hot tea. The staff of Brassica Supperclub was made up of three people, two of whom worked in the kitchen and a lovely server, who peacefully explained the evening to each of the tables. Sitting cross-legged on the floor of someone's living room, I wondered what we'd gotten ourselves into as the first course was presented.To my delight, there wasn't a nut pizza in sight. Instead, we devoured a gorgeous bowl of zucchini soup. Soup is often said to be the best test of a chef, something about attention to detail. And if that's the case, these vegan, hippie, secret-password chefs might be onto something. Each bite was an explosion of fabulous, organic, magical zucchini."My God, this is fantastic." We gushed.

"This is literally extraordinary. "The courses came slowly as our lone server patiently presented and explained the food to each table. We'd been there two hours before dessert came and while sitting on the floor for ages isn't exactly like kicking back in a Barcalounger, the food made our evening well worth the effort.Zoe and I both checked out the facilities in an attempt to confirm that people did actually live in what was presently a restaurant.I snooped in their shower. They do.I guess I'd never really given fancified vegan food a chance. Will I relinquish my love of Epic Roasthouse and its glorious meat and cushioned chairs? No. I f--kin' love that place. But I'll never look at zucchini soup the same way again.Dessert finally arrived, consisting of blueberries atop coconut "cream" in a nutty pastry shell."This is divine!" I whispered. Even my longtime nut-pizza companion was quite impressed.

"Seriously! This is wonderful!"Dinner, it's safe to say, was a hit.Nearing 10 pm, the Brassica Supperclub staff appeared in the corner of the living room to a rousing round of applause. We were asked to spread the word, tell our friends and of course, pay for our meal. But they don't bring you a bill at Brassica Supperclub. There's a dinner plate by the big pile of shoes and you're supposed to leave cash, $35 per person being the suggested donation.I have no idea about the legalities of Brassica Supperclub, and quite frankly, don't really care. Normally I'm uptight about such things, preferring my dining experiences to be approved by some sort of Department of Health. But our adventure was delicious and fun, a little bizarre and provided us with excellent cocktail-party fodder.Assured by our hosts that blogging about our experience is allowed, I enthusiastically encourage you all to go. Your experience will be weird and

fun and gourmet and adventurous and very, very, very San Franciscan.And hey, if I can do it...Posted By: Beth Spotswood (Email) | August 05 2009 at 12:05 PMRead more: http://www.sfgate. com/cgi-bin/ blogs/culture/ detail?entry_ id=44879# ixzz0NRc1UtKDhttp://brassicasupperclub.com/wordpress/"Hobbes: Do you think there's a God? Calvin: Well, SOMEBODY'S out to get me."