(Watch this entry's introduction.)
(February 2022)
The winter is flying by!
Last month
as I was contemplating the disposal of our Christmas tree, I read that a local artist
named Lillian Sizemore had the goal of constructing a
labyrinth out of discarded Christmas trees down at Olbrich Park, not far from
our house. And so on one nice morning I threw our tree onto my shoulder and hoofed it down to the park to donate it to the cause. When I arrived, I saw that many other people had already done the same.
The only other labyrinth in town that I know of with is the one at Carpenter-Ridgeway Park.
And so visiting this new labyrinth is on my to-do list now. It will sit not far from the shores of Lake Monona and have a nice southerly view so you can catch the sun for the short time that it's shining as you traverse the path, contemplate whatever tickles your fancy, and make vitamin D.
I recently learned that the
font was invented by someone here in Madison. Or co-invented:
The new design was named after the street Segoe co-designer Tom Rickner lived on, in Madison, Wis.
That would be Segoe Road on the west side of town.
********
Last entry I noted that I had begun a foray into Ethiopian cooking. I first encountered East African cuisine in the 1990s with many a good meal at a restaurant called Horn of Africa just off of the Square here in Madison. I was sad to see it go. Thankfully Buraka opened around the same time as Horn of Africa - first as a food cart before going on to becoming a fully-fledged restaurant. The building it was in downtown got demolished for a high rise but it eventually found a new home on the near east side and is still open today.
Considering how much I loved the East
African foods I've had, it's a wonder that it's taken me this long to try
cooking it at home. Better late than never.
When we left off an entry or two ago, my first attempt at
making injera bread was a failure. While I contemplated my next move on that
front, I set out to make Nit'ir qibe or niter kibbeh, an Ethiopian spiced
clarified butter which, the internet tells me, is an essential ingredient in that country's cuisine. The folks in Eritrea might take issue with me attributing it to their neighbors as they use it as well but distinguishing between Ethiopian and Eritrean foods are beyond me at this early stage in my exploration of East African cooking.
Nit'ir qibe is made with minced onion, herbs, and spices which you throw together in some melted butter and simmer for an hour or 2. Most of the spices were easily found on my spice racks but there were a few that I had to mail order from Brundo Spice Company in Oakland which specializes in Ethiopian seasonings. I am unsure if Oakland is home to a sizeable population of Ethiopian immigrants or if shipping koseret, abish, bessobela, etc. to the Port of Oakland is a relatively simple affair.
Regardless, part of me feels that the fact that I can order herbs and spices grown on the other side of the planet that I'd never heard of until a month ago and have them arrive on my doorstep in 10 days is nothing short of amazing. It must be akin to what medieval Europeans felt when a caravan rolled into town bearing black pepper, cinnamon, etc. from the Far East.
Fenugreek I was familiar with but couldn't find whole - only ground - in town. (OK, I only looked at 2 stores.) Koseret has an aroma that's very citrusy and comes across like a blend of Earl Grey tea with a generous dose of Noble hops. Bessobela smells like raspberry herbal tea. I now have enough of each to last me a lifetime.
I lightly toasted the spices before putting them in with the butter. There was cumin seed, black cardamom pods, a cinnamon stick, black peppercorns, whole cloves, and the fenugreek seeds. Untoasted were ginger, onion, garlic, turmeric, oregano, koseret, bessobela, nutmeg, and ground coriander because I forgot to get whole coriander seed. Ooops.
Once I began to really smell the spices wafting in the air, I threw them into the saucepan with the rest of the ingredients.
The mixture simmered for about 90 minutes after which I strained it through cheesecloth.
And voila! Nit'ir qibe.
It turned out really well. Very fragrant with a rich, complex flavor. Well, you'd hope so after putting in all those herbs and spices. Tasting it I realized that this must be the missing piece. My Frau has made doro wot – Ethiopian chicken stew – before and, while it was very tasty, a certain something was absent that restaurant versions have. So I think we've got the code cracked and I am really looking forward to the next batch of doro wot.
I can only hope my injera bread making skills improve by then.
********
My first trek to the cinema this year was to see Nobuhiko Obayashi's final film, Labyrinth of Cinema. The website said it was 3 hours but I felt up to the challenge.
I was completely unfamiliar with Obayashi's work but this weird, surreal epic fits in with the rest of his oeuvre, so says the internet. The setting is the final night at a cinema in Hiroshima before it closes for good. In the audience are a film historian, a wannabe gangster, and a big fan of movies. They are all vying for the attention of a teenage girl who ends up being transported into the world of the movie being shown that night.
So how was it? Let's just say I discovered that I was, in fact, not up for the challenge. Most of the story went over my head. I think that a
greater understanding of Japanese culture generally and Japanese war movies in
particular is essential for full comprehension. The anti-war stance was obvious
and I suppose there was also commentary on movies as an art form but it was
really convoluted due to my lack of cultural competency.
On the other hand, it looked marvelous. Full of colors and cheap computer special effects made for a surreal trip down the rabbit hole.
It was truly an experience.
********
Bonus photo: Here's Grabby relaxing in the sun.
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