Club Chaos Agents - All Things Hollish, Wacked, and Jacked

If you're looking for a unique dining adventure in Midtown Sacramento, look no further than Shabu Japanese Fondue. This is not your typical Japanese restaurant because it specializes in shabu-shabu.  You can still get sushi or noodles or salads or curry, but cooking your own meal at the table is what makes this restaurant special. And it's good for your health, too.

First, you choose your broth. You can have miso or a soy sauce based broth. It can be spicy or original. Chicken broth or kelp based. If you share a table and your dining partner's choice in broth differs from yours, you can order a split pot. They actually put this pot in the middle of the table with a divider in the center that separates the two types of broth (see photo). We ordered spicy. My husband prefers the miso while I chose the soy sauce. Little red and white chili pepper seeds floated in our sauces.

There isn't much to do while you wait for your broth to simmer. You can stick your chopsticks into the broth and stir it around, which seems to speed up the simmering process. Taste the chili seeds. Drum on the table with your chopsticks. Or, you can do what we did which was order a side of edamane to munch on while you wait.

Sometimes, my husband will order shabu-shabu when it's on the menu at a Japanese restaurant in San Francisco. But it's not a menu selection that's always available at Japanese restaurants. It's nice when you can find it. In a traditional Japanese restaurant, your pot is brought to the table and heated by a mobile propane burner. At Shabu Japanese Fondue, the burner is built in to the table and to the long bar.

I say it's a healthful meal even with the noodles, but I ordered mine without noodles and without a side of rice. Low carb. A plate arrived with vegetables, consisting of shitaki mushrooms, carrots, cabbage, lettuce, tofu, spinach, some sprouty things that were probably enoki, and bok choy. As my veggies cooked, another plate arrived with thin slices of American Kobe beef. The server brought a scoop for spooning the soup into a bowl. A little dunk into the broth with the beef, and dinner was ready. It takes about 2 seconds to cook the beef, swish-swish.

You can order a bunch of different types of sides if you don't like beef. You can get chicken, lamb, pork, or a variety of seafood. You might think that eating soup, which is essentially what shabu-shabu is all about, is not enough for dinner. But let me tell you, I pretty much had to roll out of that restaurant.

Shabu Japanese Fondue

Corner of 16th and R Streets

Midtown Sacramento

Photo: Elizabeth Weintraub, Midtown Sacramento agent

My new plan is to purposely interject more FUN into my life. So, I went to lunch yesterday with my transaction coordinator at Bombay Bar and Grill in Midtown. We chose a middle table near the front window. The place was empty. Kinda surprising because last month after a favorable write up in the Sacramento Bee it was packed at lunch-time.

When a new group of diners entered the restaurant, the waiter sat the group next to us. He could have seated these people anywhere else in the restaurant except next to us, but he didn't. Why do waiters do that? I wasn't paying attention to these guys. I was talking with my TC. She showed me a photo of her adorable little boy posing for T-ball as I savored tender tandoori chicken. Then, in the middle of an amusing story about a Sacramento short sale, all of a sudden, whammo! The guys at the table next to us spilled a water glass and, in grabbing for it, sent a plate of chicken vindaloo spinning and bouncing across the table.

I went from Ms. Sacramento Short Sale Agent to SPLOTCH. A spicy droplet soared through the air and hit my eyeball. Bullseye. Tears formed. Mascara ran. Wow, did my eye sting! I grabbed my napkin, dipped it into my water glass and began splashing my eye with ice water. The guys next to us stared at me in horror. Funny thing, though, I couldn't see any splatter on my clothing, in the booth or on our table. Do I have chicken stuck to my head, I asked laughing, because it was a pretty funny incident.

The guys at the table next to us were immediately apologetic. Hey, it wasn't their fault, I said. Mistakes happen. I might have felt differently if I had a plate of lamb curry soaking in my lap, but I was relatively unscathed.

It's a good thing they were sitting next to me. They could have been sitting next to Ms. McDonald's Hot Coffee. Or Finger in the Wendy's Chili pranksters. Or where is the refrigerator -- it was supposed to stay with the house and it's gone and you owe me $500, buyer's agent.

Opportunists. That's the polite word for those kinds of people: the coffee-in-the-lap, chili fingers and neglectful buyer's agents of the world.

My husband's boss warned everybody in the AP newsroom yesterday to be careful today. Because you surely do not want a hoax showing up as a news story. But what's April Fool's Day without a good joke? What's any day, for that matter, without a good joke? People might not appreciate practical jokes, like slipping a whoopie cushion on the chair before your CEO plants her big fat butt on it, but what the hey? I say do it.

Why? There is a huge gap in this country between the Haves and the Have Nots. There aren't very many people in between, economically. You've either got a ton of money, like that Russian guy, Yuri Milner, who just bought a 25,000-square-foot mansion on 18 acres overlooking the San Francisco Bay for $100 million, or you're at the other end of the spectrum. The luxury home market is thriving. So is the first-time home buyer market -- those entry level homes are moving. Any home under $200,000 in Sacramento and in good condition is likely to sell.

Here is something you don't see every day. Here is a lot for sale in Midtown Sacramento. Generally, there is not a lot you can do with a lot, but with this lot, you've really got options. It's zoned C-2, which means it's commercial, but the seller says you can also build a multi-family home or a residential single-family home or a mixed-use building on this land.

It has 40 feet of street frontage on 21st Street -- a one-way thoroughfare through Midtown -- and is situated on an alley between P & Q Streets. It's a perfect Midtown location. Within walking distance to restaurants, shopping, entertainment, around the corner from the Sacramento Bee, and it's not far from the library in Poverty Ridge. To the north is a beautiful residential Craftsman.

At present, it supports parking. As you can see from the photo. It also supports vegetation, a sort of grass is growing in the supple soil. There are utilities nearby and the entire 40 x 80 foot lot is develop-able, but please check that with the City of Sacramento planning department. In case you're thinking that construction costs are too high, think about this. If you buy the lot NOW, when prices are low, consider all the money you will save and have available when prices go up and building material prices decline. Labor costs are down right now, too, because everybody is out of work.

1615 21st Street, Sacramento, CA 95811, is offered exclusively by Lyon Real Estate at $150,000. For more information, call your Midtown Sacramento real estate agent, Elizabeth Weintraub, at 916 233 6759. For a private showing, haul your butt over there and take a look. And this is no April Fool's joke.

Photo: Elizabeth Weintraub

I went to see my hairstylist in Midtown Sacramento yesterday for color and a trim. As she ran her fingers through my hair, we talked about my decision made during our last session to grow out my hair. I've tried wearing it short, and in layers, but I really prefer one length -- no fuss, no muss. This stylist is really great with color. She has a knack for it and years of experience. I've always been very happy with my color.

But the haircut is equally important. It took her more than 2 hours to color my hair this time. I'm not certain if that's because she double booked me or because she went to the movies.

"Just a trim," I reminded her as she picked her scissors. Snip, snip, snip. Thin a little here. Oh, thin a little there. By the time she was finished, I had three-inch pieces sticking straight up in the air. "You won't let me put product in it," she cried.

Then she went out to describe how my hair would behave so much better if I would let her straighten it. Not with the harsh chemicals that stripped out all of my color and couldn't be fixed for a week like the first time. Not with a Brazilian Blowout, which to this day my stylist is not convinced contains formaldehyde, even though the state of California is suing Brazilian Blowout for non-disclosure.

Nope, she is taking a class with the stylist across the aisle to find out about a new product. She'll try it on her stylist and another customer before she will recommend it to me.

It's like a light bulb went off. What am I doing in this salon? I'm spending way more time than it necessary to get my hair done because of time management issues or some other problem with this stylist. She cut off all my hair even though she knew moments before that we discussed letting it grow out. She has a short attention span and / or doesn't listen to her customer. And she wants to experiment on me with a new hair straightening product and a new technique.

This is like a seller who wants to do a short sale plucking a real estate agent who's been through a certification class. It's not exactly a recipe for success. If you want to hire a Sacramento short sale agent, you choose the agent who has successfully closed enough short sales to accurately pinpoint potential problems for you and head them off at the pass. Not some agent who took a 3-hour class.

Criminy, now I have to find a new hair stylist in Midtown Sacramento or Land Park. Any suggestions?

One of my favorite restaurants in Sacramento is The Waterboy. I'm not alone in that opinion. Many Sacramentans love The Waterboy. What's not to love? Creative yet traditional cuisine, local ingredients, great wine selection, excellent service and convenient location in Midtown. I'm also a big fan of plush seats, and not every restaurant offers comfy bench seating like The Waterboy.

The abundance of glass windows provide a superb view of 20th Street and Capitol Avenue. Lights from other buildings and traffic twinkle. People mill about in the streets after dark. Midtown Sacramento comes alive when the sun goes down. I should mention that Chef / Owner Rick Mahan also does an excellent job over at OneSpeed Pizza in East Sac, but The Waterboy was here first.

When we were seated at The Waterboy, the waitress asked if we were celebrating a special occasion. I'm not so sure a waitress should ask that question because it implies that The Waterboy is not a place to have dinner on a regular basis. And it is. It's a fabulous local hang out. When my husband asked if I felt like a steak and offered up The Waterboy as an excellent choice for dinner, I agreed with him. But then I realized I had a gift certificate to The Waterboy.

I had forgotten that a client had given me a gift certificate. Just like my client had forgotten to mail it. I think he remembered that he bought it when he received a holiday card from me, which must have jolted his memory. Shortly after I mailed out my holiday cards, I received the gift certificate in the mail from him. The gift certificate was dated last August, right after we closed on his Midtown condo. So, Galen, if you're reading this, thank you, again.

I opted for an appetizer of house smoked salmon and ahi tartare, adorned with watercress, thinly sliced avocado, tiny olives and salsa verde. I realize raw fish isn't everybody's choice, but for those of us who love it, it melted in my mouth. The salmon was remarkably fresh and delicious.

When the waitress asked how I wanted my steak, I hesitated. I hesitated because I prefer steak medium rare. But I rarely get it medium rare. In fact, I'm almost afraid to order a medium rare steak when I dine out because it often arrives overcooked and medium. Inedible. Sometimes, I order steak rare, and then it either arrives all bloody and barely seared or it's perfectly medium rare. I figure I've got a 50/50 chance. But, because we were at The Waterboy, I had faith in the chef.

Sure enough, I ordered medium rare and I got medium rare. The steak was unforgettable. You can't go wrong at The Waterboy.

Photos: Elizabeth Weintraub, BlackBerry BOLD

Years ago, my husband and I signed up for the National Marrow Donor Program, just in case we could save somebody's life. It seemed like a good thing to do. In fact, I had forgotten all about it until I received an email the other day from the National Marrow Donor Program. My heart stopped. Because you know what they probably want. Oh, yeah, I heard that little voice inside my head scolding me. You know, Weintraub, being a good citizen is easy to do when demands are unlikely to ever happen. Now you've got to step up to the plate and perform. Do you have what it takes?

I took a deep breath and opened the email. Ahhh. They just wanted to make sure my home address and email address were correct. But I would have done it if it was a request. Still, I admit that I was pretty relieved. At the moment, I've got too much work on my hands to take time off. The fall real estate market is pretty hectic for me. Over the past 3 days, I've received 5 or 6 offers and am in the middle of multiple counter offers.

One counter offer for a short sale came back signed and accepted when I was sitting at the chef's table at Mulvaney's Building and Loan last night. Yeah, I left my BlackBerry on during dinner. In fact, I shot this photo with my BlackBerry. If you haven't been there, it's Patrick Mulvaney's restaurant over on 19th by L in the old firehouse. I have one word for Mulvaney's and that word is BAAAACCCCCON. If you love bacon -- and what's not to love? -- You'll love Mulvaney's. It's motto: freshest ingredients of the day.

You can watch them cut up the bacon and set it to cure from the chef's table. Its signature bacon also arrives in many dishes. And it's simply delicious. I ordered a baby greens salad with pears and cheese that had bits of bacon sprinkled throughout. The bacon was in little chunks, sweet, chewy and exploding with flavor. Followed that dish with California bass, resting on a bed of broccoli rabe and cannelloni beans. The server asked me how I wanted my fish cooked. I've never been asked that before.

Well, I'm pretty sure I don't want it raw, and I certainly don't want it crispy and dried out. Bass should be moist, slightly flakey and, um, cooked. So whatever you call that, that's what I'd like. At Mulvaney's, it's called medium. You wouldn't think that two small dishes would leave no desire for dessert, but that's what happened. Although, I did sample my husband's lavendar sorbet, yum.

A client had given me a gift certificate to Mulvaney's a few weeks ago after closing on her home in East Sacramento. So, Sarah, if you're reading this blog, thank you for the dinner -- it was fabulous. We'll be back to Mulvaney's again. Thanks for introducing us to one of my new favorite restaurants in Midtown Sacramento!

Photo: Elizabeth Weintraub, Mulvaney's Building and Loan, Sacramento

I did a rare thing yesterday afternoon. I went to lunch with my husband. One of his freelance employers gave him a gift certificate to the L-Wine Lounge in Midtown Sacramento, so that's where we headed. Unfortunately, the L-Wine Lounge is no longer serving lunch, probably due to the situation with our state furloughs in Sacramento. So, we walked over to Celestin's Restaurant on K Street, which serves up fairly decent Caribbean and Cajun cuisine.

On the way, we passed 3 parking ticket payment machines. In all 3 instances, a person stood in front of the ticket dispenser reading the directions and looking puzzled. I could relate. The first time I used one of these new-fangled machines to get a parking ticket, I was so confused that I crumpled the actual ticket, threw it on the floor of my car and stuck the blank portion on my car window. Of course, I got a parking ticket. It's a stupid system designed by an alien.

After lunch, I asked my husband if he would mind stopping at See's Candy on J Street. Somebody sent me 2 gift certificates to See's a while back. They were dated in December of 2008, and I've been carrying them around ever since. With my hand on the door handle to See's, my cell rang. It was a listing agent, calling to say her sellers had accepted my buyer's purchase offer without a counter offer. Eureka. OK, now I really craved chocolate. But first I had to call my client to let her know she got the home in Sacramento. She's a first-time home buyer, and I knew how much this news would mean to her. So, I wasn't paying attention when I opened the door.

Whoa, that store was packed. Wall-to-wall people. What are all these people doing at See's Candy on a Friday afternoon? Duh, my husband reminded me, it's the Friday before Valentine's Day. I couldn't even see the counter where all the chocolate-covered cherries were probably hiding for all the people in front of it. Instead, I grabbed a pound of dark chocolates, a pound of milk chocolates and headed for the check-out line.

See's Candy was founded in 1921, the year my grandmother had turned 21. It was my grandmother's favorite candy store. Whenever she came to visit me when I was a kid, she'd bring me a box of See's Candy. She said it was the best candy in the world, right next to that peanut brittle she'd buy from those interstate truck stops in Nebraska. As we stood in line, I shared these thoughts with my husband. The woman in front of us turned around and said, "I agree with her; See's Candy is the best in the world."

Now, in case you think chocolate is fattening, let me share something with you. Each one-pound box of See's Candy contains about 24 pieces. Two pieces equal about 160 calories. That means if you were to eat the entire box, you'd have consumed about 1,920 calories, which might sound like a lot until you figure that it takes 3,500 calories above your normal daily intake to gain one pound. Would you be willing to take on a half pound to eat an entire box of See's Candy? Yeah, I think I might.

Photo: Big Stock Photo

I get business one of two ways these days. Either people find me on the Internet or they are referred by previous clients. When I ask callers who found me on the Internet why they picked me, I often get the same answer. It's rarely because they believe I am brilliant, witty or experienced. Rats. They say it's because I have a friendly face.

If people are looking at the Lyon Real Estate website for Midtown Sacramento agents, my profile is all the way at the bottom. Because my last name is Weintraub, and it's sorted alphabetically. My office services primarily East Sacramento, Land Park, Curtis Park, Midtown and downtown Sacramento. At the bottom of the Lyon website is not the best place to be. I mean, a person's scrolly finger can wear out getting down to the bottom. We have more than 80 agents in our office.

Although I'm happy to be blessed with a friendly face and personality, I don't think that's the best reason to choose a real estate agent. But consumers have very little information to choose from when scrolling through photographs of real estate agents.

As I was driving along Business 80 yesterday on my way to show a home, I received a phone call from a prospective home buyer. She was calling about a listing in Sacramento. OK, what is the street? She yelled into my ear: Sacramento! No, what is the name of the street? She screamed again as though I was deaf: Sacramento, California!

Excuse me, I can't give you information about a listing if you don't tell me the name of the street where the home is located. What is the name of the street? The buyer finally responded: Cougar. I know that street. That's not an area where I specialize, but I told the buyer that I would be happy to refer her to another agent to show that home.

The buyer decided to argue with me, saying her mortgage broker told her that real estate agents can show homes anywhere in Sacramento. She insisted that I show her that home. Hey, it wasn't my listing. Instead, I referred her to my associate who is a neighborhood specialist in that area. To protect the innocent, let's say my associate's name is Bonnie. I gave her Bonnie's phone number.

A few minutes later, the buyer called back. She said, "I want to work with an American."

"I can assure you that Bonnie is an American."

"No, she's not," the caller hissed, "I got her voice mail, and her last name is Hernandez."

My mind went blank. I was shocked. It took me a few seconds to figure out what this caller was saying to me. I guess I must live in a protected world because I rarely run into this type of discrimination; although, sadly, I am aware that it exists. I didn't quite know how to respond, so I did what I usually do and relied on my gut instincts, my immediate reaction.

"I can't help you," I replied, "Because I don't work with bigoted people." I swerved to miss a slow-moving vehicle, pulled my cellphone out of its holster and pressed the "end call" button. I was kinda surprised at my reaction because I don't ordinarily hang up on callers. But she royally offended me.

Photo by Big Stock Photo

As you're reading this, you may think, "Oh, no, she dumped another cup of coffee into her keyboard again." I do this about twice a year. But I did no such thing. Unless my cat sneaked up on my desk and puked on it when I wasn't looking. Nope, this time I was just typing along when all of a sudden a bunch of 8's started to appear within my words. Like something out of the Twilight Zone.

I changed out the batteries for my keyboard and mouse. Still 8's. Shoved the keyboard aside and plugged in my Apple keyboard. The behavior continued. Why was my keyboard possessed? What did I do to deserve this?

Well, time was at a premium so I called customer support at Apple. See, this is the nice thing about working on a Mac. No long wait for customer support. It cost me $50 to find out the problem was my wireless keyboard. The tech guy said you can spill something in your keyboard and it won't necessarily quit working at that point. It can take months to fry it.

Fortunately, I have an OfficeMax in Midtown Sacramento, not too far from my home. OfficeMax assured me on the phone that it had a wireless ergonomic keyboard. I asked the clerk to check 3 times but when I got there, turned out he was mistaken. No surprise. Instead, I found a Logitech with tons of bells and whistles for $130. Grabbed it, took 4 phone calls on my way to the cash register. This time I decided to buy a 2-year warranty for $35 that replaced the keyboard for free in the event of "accidental handling."

Unpacked the box at home, removed the plastic film, inserted batteries, put the disk in my drive and opened the instruction booklet. Crap. Windows XP or Vista. That's what I get for yakking on my cell and not paying attention to what I'm buying. Just because it's a USB device doesn't mean it's cross platform.

Shoved everything into the box and drove back to the Midtown Office Max store. After much discussion, I discovered that OfficeMax has an ergonomic Microsoft 4000 keyboard on sale for $39 (retail: $60). Just like my former keyboard except it wasn't wireless. Did I really need wireless? Where do I ever take my keyboard? No where, that's where.

What I need is a wireless mouse, and I didn't like my old mouse. So, I bought a new wireless mouse that folds up. I can use it with my PC laptop, too.

OfficeMax offered me a 2-year warranty on this keyboard for $15. But at a $39 price point, a warranty is unnecessary. I figured it's better to buy two keyboards. This way I'll always have a spare. Beats forking out $150 every 6 months for a new keyboard and mouse, don't you agree?

The Short Sale Savior, by Elizabeth Weintraub, available at Amazon.com

Photo: Big Stock Photo

If you're looking for a Midtown agent who knows the Grid, call Elizabeth Weintraub at 916.233.6759. My office is at the corner of 28th & J Streets.

Jenny Lewis doesn't disappoint. Members of the audience at the Empire last night were hoping to hear tracks from Lewis' new release, Acid Tongue, and Lewis and her band delivered those tunes -- while not exactly flawlessly, which is also an attraction to see a live show, but effortlessly, with spirit. If you've never heard Jenny Lewis, her voice is a Stradivarius: sweet, silky and sultry.

My husband suggested we arrive at the nightclub on R Street in Sacramento about 5:45 PM to ensure seating. There aren't a lot of tables and chairs, and this was an all-age show, with a section reserved for those over 21. All I can say is I was thankful it wasn't mid July, because we ended up standing in line for an hour. Doors were supposed to open at 6 PM.

We haven't been to the Empire for a while. The last show we saw at that venue was a dual billing several years ago, Cracker and Camper Van Beethoven. Since then, R Street has watched a Paragary's restaurant come and go, and the north side of the block between 14th and 15th has exploded with restaurants, lots of outdoor seating and people milling about.

As I glinted into the sun, I spied some dude walking up the sidewalk carrying a huge owl. Wait, that couldn't be right. Oh, of course not. That's not an owl, how silly of me. It's a monkey. Perhaps a spider monkey. My brain didn't register the fact that regardless of whether the guy was toting a live hooting owl or a monkey, you just don't see those sorts of things on the street but it didn't seem out of place. As he got closer, it was apparent he wasn't carrying either of those animals. It was a chihuahua with sunglasses. Still.

Once inside, more than an hour later, we scored a table as close to the stage as we could get, and I squeezed my butt into one of those George Jetsen swivel chairs. My husband scouted up a menu, we selected fish tacos, onion rings and a Caesar salad, and my husband left the table to order from the bartender. Well, she wasn't really a bartender because she wasn't old enough to sell cocktails. My husband said nobody has ever ordered food from her before because she had no idea about how to ring up the purchases or when the food would arrive. So my husband waited at the bar.

The Empire used to have waitresses, before the downturn in the economy, but there was none in sight last night. We didn't get the onion rings for some reason, they substituted French fries, and none of the prices on the menu matched our receipt, but what the hey, we weren't there for dinner. Dinner was just something we do around 7 PM. We were there to hear Jenny Lewis.

The show started late, after 8 PM, after an opening act from LA, The Dawes. Lewis swung out on stage, sashaying and dipping, sporting a hat you'd expect to see Tom Waitt wear -- which topped her long, wavy, red locks -- a light-colored shirt with a vest, paired with tight jeans. Her show was filled with haunting melodies, fast-paced rock, syrupy country and psychedelic rock all rolled into one. My favorite was Godspeed:

Godspeed to you
Keep the lighthouse in sight

Oops, I'm out of time. I have to run out to Folsom early this morning to take a listing. Just want to add that if you missed Jenny Lewis with the Watson Twins or have never heard Rabbit Fur Coat, you're in for a treat if you pick up a couple of Jenny Lewis CDs.

The Short Sale Savior, by Elizabeth Weintraub, coming in June 2009.

Photo: Big Stock Photo