Weekend in Review

Today Charles and I went to Maharaja, our local purveyors of Indian cuisine for lunch and ate ourselves silly. The buffet there is a trap like the Tree of Knowledge. It just sits there with its Chicken Tikka Masala goodness steaming at you in the face. Although I ate too much, I did try several dishes that I'd never had before, the names of which I cannot recall. One was this cabbage and cashew thingy which was mild but very tasty. And then there was the something-or-other that had yogurt in the sauce that was very tasty as well. Plus I tried those little brown balls in syrup. They were luscious balls of sweetened cottage cheese fried to perfection. Rich, but not overly so. The daily special was a chicken something-or-other that was OK. It was very mild and pulled back from the precipice of blandness, but only just. And then there were these fried slices of eggplant and some kind of pancake hooile with vegetables in them that made perfect folding devices when a glob of onion chutney was applied.

Surprisingly, the meal didn't make me all soporific. Then again, we did stop at Escape Java Joint and I got me a nice cuppa joe. I stopped in there for the first time a couple weeks ago and was pleased to find that one of the proprietors was someone I recognized as a former barista from the Ancora just off the Square. He even remembered me. I've only ever stopped there on my way to work but it looks like a pretty nice space, especially with the big furnished room at the front. I shall have to go there and actually sit my ass down and spend some time soaking up the atmosphere. Writing these words makes me miss Toad Hill. It was just a couple blocks from my house and I knew all the baristas, who were wonderful folk. A great spot for doing the crossword puzzle and good chat. R.I.P.

This weekend was mellow but wonderfully varied. On Saturday, I trekked out to Bavaria Sausage and got me some good German comestibles including some soft pretzels (to go with my chocolate fudge mustard), smoked pork chops, sweet & sour cabbage, Black Forest ham, et al. Is it me or does German cuisine center around pork? There were about 80 different types of hams and even more variations on the pig including wurst, chops, and the like. Although I have designated 2006 as the year that I delve into German cooking, my venture there was more along the lines of just having food for this week than a concerted effort to learn a country's cuisine. From there I went to Alex Polish-American deli. Now, when I got to Bavaria Sausage, mine was the only car in the lot. When I left, I found that half a dozen cars had joined mine. The deli was a different matter. The lot of the little mall in which it resides was almost full when I got there yet I found myself to be the only customer. There were a couple guys in there speaking in Polish to one of the women behind the counter but they left shortly after I arrived. As I had no particular recipe in mind, I stood there looking around and running potential meals through my head. The younger woman behind the counter asked me if I was looking for anything in particular with her stunning Polish accent. I told her that I wasn't and proceeded to grab some bread – a loaf of chleb babuni or "Grandma's bread". The stuff is really good. It has a very spongy texture and sticks to your ribs like glue. It was one of three loaves left so I think I ought to frequent the joint more often so as to find out when they get their stuff in. A lot, if not most, of the stuff they carry comes from Chicago, including the bread which is from Ideal Bakery, a joint just a few blocks from my mom's place in Jefferson Park. I also grabbed a bag of German potato chips which were seasoned with paprika. While good, Jay's makes the same thing down in Chicago. Perusing the shelves, I decided to make kolacky again and so bought some dzem wi?niowy, which I think translates to "cherry preserves" because that's sure what it looks like. Turning my attention to the deli case, I bought some garlic ham, a couple links of a sausage whose name I cannot recall but begins with "p", and some spiced bacon roll. (Again, the pig dominates.) The bacon roll turned out to be quite a score. Take a slab of bacon, wrap it around a pork loin, and then spice & tie. I fried some for breakfast the next morning and The Dulcinea and I both were in fits about how tasty it is. In the cooler I spied a Polish sernik or cheesecake also from Ideal. The stuff is heaven on a plate, lemme tell ya. Unlike American cheesecake, the stuff is very light with a much drier texture yet it is mighty moist.

The Dulcinea came over that night and we went to the rollerderby! It was the Mad Rollin' Dolls' season opener. Although we'd seen them play an exhibition game last month, this was much better. There were more elbows thrown, hips checked, and more fights! I don't know what it is, but the sight of two hotties coming to fisticuffs just sets off part of the reptilian section of my brain. The matches were good and I've decided that I'm an Unholy Rollers fan. I just have a thing for Jewel of Denile and all things unholy. Before the Resevoir Dolls match, one of their mascots led one unholy sight around by a chain. Marty, a local bartender of some reknown, had volunteered his services for the night. Marty is fairly short and rotund with a long beard ala the boys in ZZ Top and long hair. Plus he wears prescription sunglass all the time. So Marty is paraded about while wearing only hip-hugger shorts and this leather harness. And I thought watching him dance to Nine Inch Nails while standing on a barstool was funny. Uff da! Later on I saw Ryan, a former co-worker of mine. He was clad in bowling shirt and with a beer in hand, if I recall correctly. PBR silos are $3.50. Is PBR still a hip beer? I managed to drink 16 oz. of the stuff before cutting myself off from the horrid stuff. How in the fuck did PBR become fashionable? I mean, what kind of statement is it to drink that crap intentionally? "I drink crappy beer." I've been at a couple fancy joints and seen some well-heeled gentlemen quaffing it down. I mean, these are the kind of guys who would wear a tuxedo to their own vasectomy and they're drinking PBR. Wow. If drinking shite beer is what it takes to be a hipster, I'll just stay uncool, thanks. I'll stick with New Glarus. Next time I'm not driving and I'm bringing a hip flask.

On Sunday we resumed gaming after a multi-month layoff. Marv, Christopher, Pete, and I convened at Dogger's for the occasion. When I got there, Miss Regan (now in her Terrible Twos) was sitting on Dogger's lap in the basement while he played music and waited for folks to arrive. There was some Porcupine Tree playing and Regan started dancing to it at one point. Poor kid – she's been tainted by progressive rock. People eventually filed in and we began. Pete was DMing and we played a sci-fi adventure of his which was vaguely Fireflyish. We just transposed D&D's D20 rules over to the scenario. We play a bunch of young prospector types who get Shanghai'd by a trader. So we're on this ship carrying an unknown cargo getting attacked by various bad guys. My character is an engineer so I'm basically Scotty (from Star Trek) diverting power from the propulsion units to the shields or the lasers and back. At the beginning of the game, Pete explained the game world. On the outer planets, the de facto police is a group known as The Orphans. A few hours later when we were playing, I had completely forgotten this. We land on a planet and the captain tells us not to go to the Orphanage, i.e. – their headquarters. I, having the mind that I do, took this statement a different way and nearly spit Coke through my nose laughing which caused Marv to laugh and so we spiraled down into a vicious circle of belly laughs. Just as we calmed down, Pete described the inhabitants of the planet who were mostly miners. He said they were very short and had no hair. Being all smart-alecky, I said, "At least not on their heads" which caused Marv to make a hand gesture indicating that, if their pants were unzipped, a whole forest of pubic hair would spring out. I started laughing uncontrollably and so did he. Things were not helped much when a whole conversation ensued about getting lost in the hair, finding pubic lice the size of squirrels inside and, well you get the gist.

Luckily Miss Regan wasn't around for all of this but she did wander down shortly thereafter, much to Mel's chagrin. You see, role playing is about role playing; about being your character. While Regan was coveting some dice, Marv really got into character. We're a bunch of young punks out in the depths of space fighting for our lives so of course this involves profanity. He said "bullshit" at one point and Regan mimed him with "booshit!" This was quite funny and so was watching Marv get yelled at by Mel.

I'm looking forward to continuing the adventure next weekend, especially now that we've gotten all the preliminary crap out of the way.

Also this past weekend, I went to the bookstore. I bought the second Discworld book, The Light Fantastic, for my mom, a cheapie CD of the music of Oktoberfest, and a couple of tomes for myself. To get my German cooking venture off the ground, I bought a German cookbook. Although there were 80 Indian cookbooks and a million different ones for Chinese cooking, I grabbed the only general cookbook for German cuisine. Presumably it's not too hip these days. You know, considering that over half of the people in this state have German ancestry, there sure is a paucity of German culture outside of beer and brats. Schnitzel should be served at every corner tavern, for fuck's sake. Corner restaurants should be serving liverwurst on rye with a big slab of raw onion on top. Considering the preponderance of people of northern European stock around here, you sure can't tell by the local culture. But that's a rant for another time. I also bought Breweries of Wisconsin by a professor here at the university. (There's that German thing again.) It's interesting to read about how great of a part of people's lives beer and the brewing industry was. Firstly there was the economic aspect of it but there was also the element of community in the whole deal. For example, some small towns would get together to pick hops and make a celebration of it with food, musicians, and dancing.

This week…this week I need to get my arse in gear and pay some bills. Work has been work. Tomorrow I have lunch with my contracting company boss. Since I don’t work at their office, I am out of the loop. My company sued to be the help desk for many state agencies but they lost the contract to an Illinois company. They weren't able to get Steve back to DHFS with me and now another of us is leaving to take a job closer to home with a different company. And then there were two. I highly suspect that contracts with the state are quite lucrative so someone has to be in trouble.