Lucky Devils

Watching the film Food, Inc. was both a blessing and a curse. It's a blessing that we were educated on the heinous treatment of mass-produced farm animals.  For the sake of keeping this post appetizing, I won't elaborate. But it's a curse when standing at the checkout line in Whole Foods. Everyone but the millionaires suffer Whole Foods Checkout Line Anxiety. Especially when we create art pieces at the salad bar with reckless abandon, only to hold our breath when they weigh it. Whole Foods Checkout Line Anxiety now also creeps in when we buy organic grass-fed steaks, and cage-free-indoor-outdoor free range chicken. The prices are no joke. Or rather, a total joke.

El Diablo
We were drawn to Lucky Devils because they also seemed to want no part in the modern-day animal cruelty either. They showcase the best of the best in organic, hormone-free meats.  All of their beef is grass-fed or Kobe. And their prices are lovely.

We ordered the Bacon Bleu Burger (Swiss Gruyere, blue cheese, double-smoked bacon, drunkin’ beer caramelized onions, wild arugula & roasted garlic aioli) and The Diablo (white cheddar, double-smoked bacon, avocado, wild arugula, House 1,000 Island Devil Hot Sauce).

Their list of knockout micro brews turn this upscale burger joint into a full-on gastropub. It was a hearty, memorable meal, and we will return!

Famous slogan posted around London during the WWII  blitz
Another satisfied customer


Uncovering Cool in Corona - Yes that's what I said

River Walk Park
Some scoff at the Inland Empire, calling its inhabitants "white trash." I would argue that white trash culture has brought us a myriad of fabulous things, like tater tots and plastic flamingos, but I'm too busy wondering why they're allowed to call it an "Empire" in the first place. 

Perhaps the white trash moniker evolved from the Drive 'Til You Qualify housing developments. Or, as Wikipedia kindly puts it, "Agriculture declined through the 20th century, and since the 1970s a rapidly growing population, fed by families migrating in search of affordable housing, has led to more residential, commercial, and industrial development."

 Citrus City Grille
And while it's true that we saw an inordinate amount of monster trucks and cars with headlights in the shades of violet and blue, it wasn't all white trash. In fact, we went to a party at the Citrus City Grille and were impressed by the tasty treats being passed around, like Mexican street tacos. Not to mention the knockout martini menu; the Raspberry Lemonade Martini was my favorite. A DJ sets up shop around 10 PM for dancing al fresco. Behind us was a stunning river walk, with a modern tunnel snaking through the black waters.

choice of Chambord or Irish cream cupcakes
Next time someone talks trash about "The IE," I'll let then know about this fabulous and hick-free evening. And the wonders of tater tots and plastic flamingos. 

The "naughty end of the table"


The Pacific Design Center, finally!

partying at Wolfgang Puck's Spectra
The Pacific Design Center is kind of like the dentist's office. You know you'll be thankful you went, but you can't help but put it off.

A giant, mall-like structure with amazing displays and shops for interior designers, it's considered a mecca of style and substance. If the shops had names, they'd be named My House is Nicer Than Yours and You Can't Afford This. Plus it's like the Smithsonian - a parking nightmare where you put aside an entire afternoon to barely scratch the surface. But since I happened to be there for a party at Wolfgang Puck's Spectra, I figured, "What the hell?"

I slipped into the hallway, kicked off my party heels and stepped into some walking shoes. Then I spent the late night roaming the empty halls to marvel at the sights and work off Mr. Puck's crazy Asian fusion business.