The Corona Diaries Vol. 58: Gastronomical

(late June 2022)

(listen to this entry's prelude)

One thing the Frau and I have done a lot this month is eat well. Don't get me wrong, we're not exactly gourmets - more like gormandizers.

For me, the gustatory festivities kicked off when my boss took my work team out for our annual holiday lunch a couple weeks ago. The holiday celebrated here was Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Festivus, Saturnalia, Yule - whatever holiday we wanted that occurred at the end of 2021 and, while he is normally not very timely with these lunches, being 6 months late set a new record. We went to a Middle Eastern/pan-Mediterranean place called Petra Bakery and Restaurant. Everyone enjoyed their meals and I was particularly struck by the stuffed falafel. (It also happens to be the only dish I have a photograph of.)

The ball of chickpea was crispy on the outside and tender on the inside with an injection of chili paste and onion and just a dash of sumac adding extra flavor. My fattoush salad w/ shawarma was the perfect lunch for a day of sweltering heat.

After eating this fine meal, I lost the will to cook for a few days and figured, if it’s going to be extremely hot, let us dine out and enjoy the cuisines of cultures from warmer climes. I'll admit that I had an ulterior motive: I didn't want to heat the house by using the stove. Plus I was happy to let someone else stand over a bed of red hot coals in a grill.

 

OK, OK, OK.

 

I was feeling lazy too. High temps make me lethargic.

I noticed that there was a new(ish) Peruvian restaurant not far from home called Mishqui. One hot and humid evening my Frau and I decided the time was right try it out. She had lomo saltado while I had pollo saltado. A side order of sweet plantain could not be filled as they were out. My Frau was disappointed as she had inexplicably acquired a craving for them recently.

With the potato having originated in Peru, I knew enough to expect every dish to have some kind of spud. One thing I didn’t expect was for Peruvian cuisine to have a large Cantonese influence. Thusly I was surprised to read on the menu that saltado is a kind of stir fry. I presume Chinese laborers emigrated there at some point and subsequently left their mark.

It was really tasty. Simple but delicious. For dessert, I brought home a chocolate chip empanada which our cat Grabby found intriguing while I found it chocolicious!

Having eaten Peruvian, I thought that the next logical step would be to keep the South American theme going and eat at the Venezuelan restaurant, La Taguara, that we’d not been to since a year or 2 before Covid.

The place had been upgraded slightly with the counter area now featuring monitors displaying a colorful electronic menu but the smallish dining area was the same as far as we could tell. The Frau and I both thought that the menu had been expanded but weren’t certain as it could have been our memories fooling us after a few years. There were only a couple other customers when we got there so it was nice to see a few people come in for takeout as the dining room began to fill up.

My Frau had the pabellón which the menu describes as the Venezuelan national dish. Shredded beef is accompanied by black beans, sweet plantain, rice, and an arepita which is small cornmeal pancake.

Having eaten their pabellón before, I will attest to its tastiness. As I noted above, the Frau had been craving plantain and was pleased as punch to finally have some tender nuggets of sweet, starchy goodness on a plate before her. She proceeded to consume them with all the gusto of Donald Trump at a beauty pageant. I did a little sampling (to ensure that my Frau had been served only the choicest delectables, mind you) and really liked the black beans. The identities of all of the seasonings involved proved elusive but these legumes were done just right and tasted excellent. Probably the best I’ve had in town.

I ordered the churrasco criollo which was a steak accompanied by a link of chorizo, yucca sticks, rice, and picadillo salad which consisted of diced tomato, onion, and chili.

The meal was served with a cilantro sauce that I wish ran out of my faucets at home, it was that good. They normally give you guasacaca or Venezuelan guacamole but there was no avocado here – vinegar and lime juice-based instead.

Despite having eaten plenty, we still had sweet teeth. On our way home we stopped for ice cream at Chocolate Shoppe on Atwood Avenue figuring that the cool, creamy spoonfuls would melt and find a home in the nooks and crannies in our otherwise full bellies. The ice cream parlor has a seated area out back which abuts a tree-lined bike path and so offers some shade. I had peach instead of my usual Zanzibar chocolate but cannot recall which flavor my Frau ordered.

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When not overeating, I have spent some time at the movies. Likely in emulation of my grandparents, I go to the movies not only to see a fine film but also because of the air conditioning. One theater here likes to crank it up and it’s a pleasure to sit in the near Arctic conditions watching a flick.

One film I saw was Jazz Fest: A New Orleans Story. Shot in 2019, it is a celebration of the 50th anniversary of the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival. The movie chronicles the history of the festival and its importance to New Orleans.

We learn about the prominence of music in New Orleans culture beginning with Congo Square where slaves would gather to drum and dance together. This look back proceeds with second line bands, Mardi Gras Indians – music is everywhere down in Nawlins. Louis Armstrong was born and started his career there.

And so we get generous doses of music on the stages of the festival. But some time is also devoted to the city's cuisine – shrimp, crawfish, po’ boys, gumbo, etc. Seeing all of that food on the big screen gave me an appetite. And not just a healthy one. I mean I would have killed anyone that got between me and a plate of shrimp étouffée. So, when I got home, I immediately put my Frau in the car and we drove to our local Cajun restaurant, North of the Bayou. I kid you not.

With all of the great music, history, and food, I couldn’t help but enjoy the movie. My only gripe is that it was more than a little hagiographic and a bit too by the numbers with the obligatory descent into darkness that was Hurricane Katrina followed by the festival bringing light to the grim situation and helping the city heal. Despite essentially being a feature length commercial for New Orleans (in addition to being a potent hunger inducer), I really enjoyed it.

I took another recent trek to the cinema to see the latest film by director David Cronenberg, Crimes of the Future.

 

Cronenberg goes back to his body horror roots here with a future dystopian world where most people cannot feel physical pain and biotechnology has advanced to the point of machines being able to connect to our bodies and do…things…

The film opens with a disturbing scene of a young boy eating a plastic garbage can. We then meet Saul Tenser and Caprice played by Viggo Mortensen and Léa Seydoux, respectively. They are a couple who does performance art together. Tenser’s body has an ability whereby it grows new vestigial organs and the performances involve them being surgically removed.

While it was a weird, disconcerting, and often times gross movie, I found it strangely captivating - perhaps in a rubbernecking kind of way like you experience when driving by a car accident hoping to get a fleeting glimpse of a body. Medical science doesn’t seem to be too far away from brain implants that would allow people to use computers by simply thinking certain things so computer-human flesh interfaces are coming. Plus, I think the movie pokes fun at artistic pretension which can be good for a laugh.

Crimes of the Future certainly isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but I found it engaging in a peculiar way and enjoyably odd.

 

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Bonus photo: cats!