Owen wanted to name her Arlene II, but Isabel and I nixed that. Compromise: Marlene. She's our new hen, a teenaged Ameraucana (the kind that lays blue eggs) with a very sweet nature, according to the kid who works at Feather Haven, who has a very sweet nature himself. If you live in the Bay Area and are interested in getting chicks or chickens -- or pot-bellied pigs or bunnies or quail or canaries -- I strongly recommend Feather Haven. It's a schlep to Morgan Hill from almost everywhere except Morgan Hill, but I so prefer this store to others I've bought from that I have made the trek twice and will probably do it again. Hopefully not very soon.
After acquiring Marlene, since we were already down the peninsula, we went to the Lee's in Milpitas to try the Vietnamese sandwiches.
For a 97-year-old, my grandmother is incredibly game. She also dresses better than I do.
We had very tasty $3.25 pork-and-pate sandwiches, honeydew smoothies, dumplings and egg rolls. Thank-you for the recommendation, Azure Song.
For dessert, we went next door to Pho Nguyen, famous for it pandan waffles.
According to Charmaine Solomon's Enyclopedia of Asian Food, the pandan leaf produces a flavoring that is "delicate, and as important to Asians as vanilla is to Westerners."
The color was neither delicate nor natural. I could not for the life of me describe the flavor, which was indeed extremely delicate. I'm not sure about natural.
The waffles were warm, strangely elastic, mildly sweet. "This, I do not like," said my grandmother. This, I did sort of like. But I won't be craving pandan waffles, which is my feeling about all waffles.
Since we've been home, the other birds have been picking on Marlene unmercifully. I knew this would happen, but it's worse than when we introduced the Chinatown chicken. Alberta Einstein is one of the worst offenders, which is depressing.