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!

 

Venezuelan Home Cookin'

Due to a distinct lack of any desire to cook on Sunday in the heat, The Dulcinea and I headed over to Madison's newest (and first?) Venezuelan restaurant, La Taguara which opened earlier this month on the 3500 block of East Washington in what was formerly Dimitri's Gyros. Other than Hugo Chávez and that Caracas is the country's capital, I have to admit to a lot of ignorance when it comes to Venezuela. So why not learn a bit about their cuisine?

The space is steeped in the blue, red, and gold – the colors of the Venezuelan flag. One poster proudly proclaims that the country is home to the tallest waterfall while another notes that, while Venezuela may be equatorial, it features a variety of climates from desert to alpine.

Other than that there would be a lot of corn involved, I wasn't quite sure what to expect. Would it lean towards Mexican food or perhaps be similar to the Peruvian food I'd eaten here? The gentleman behind the counter proved to be a wonderful guide to the two perplexed customers who stood before him. To say he was friendly is like saying that Lady Gaga is a bit of a show-off. He was welcoming, explained the menu, and even gave us free samples of the passion fruit juice, tamarind juice, and the sugar cane with lime juice. (All three were very tasty.) He may have been a complete bastard before coming to Madison but he has sure got that Midwestern nice thing down pat.

Here's the tamarind juice:



We were told that many people are turned off by the color. Doofuses. This stuff is grand with its mellow plum-like flavor.

I ordered a Fresskolita.



I ordered it simply because it was the first item listed under Venezuelan sodas. Apparently it's the most popular soda in Venezuela. I was told that, if I ask someone about Venezuela and he or she doesn't mention this stuff, then I can rest assured that they are not from Venezuela. It tastes like cream soda with a dash of bubble gum. Curiously tasty.

As an appetizer I ordered tostones which are smashed green plantains fried to a crisp.



They were nice'n'starchy and who doesn't like fried starches? They came with guasacaca which is a cousin to guacamole. While avocado-based, it's much less viscous and has a wonderful smack of tartness from vinegar. This stuff belongs on every table. The tostones also came with a side of picadillo salad which is pica de gallo ohne the chilis. Plenty of lime juice and cilantro here which was fine by me.

The D ordered Cachapa con Queso y Cochino Frito.



What we have here is a corn pancake folded over Venezuelan cheese along with pork served with more of that fantastic guasacaca and sour cream (nata). The pork was crispy which meant it was a little on the dry side but this is apparently the intent of the dish. The pancake made up for it and it was spongy with the cheese adding moisture. There wasn't an overabundance of the gooey cheese but that was perfectly fine. Hack off a piece, dip it in the nata and/or guasacaca and you've got a perfect fatty mess on your palate.

Not only did I order the most popular soft drink in all of Venezuela, but I also got the country's national dish, pabellon.



Shredded beef is accompanied by black beans, rice, fried plantains, and an arepa which is a corn cake. The rice and beans weren't heavily seasoned but good. While the beef had what looked like minced red pepper, the seasoning took a back seat to the flavor of the meat. My fried sweet plantains found themselves dipped in the guasacaca leftover from the tostones and were great. Silghtly crispy on the outside and warm and sweet on the inside. The arepa was served plain and it too found its way in guasacaca or had some picadillo salad placed atop it.

I was a bit surprised at how simple the food was although perhaps I shouldn't have been. And I don't use “simple” here in a derogatory manner. The seasoning was just not complicated. A little salt & pepper, some peppers, garlic, and onions. Everything seemed to be peasant food, so to speak, made with the staples of the Venezuelan kitchen. Rice and beans – how much more basic can you get? The brighter, more sprightly flavors came from the guasacaca and picadillo salad which added citrus, tartness, and fresh greens to the mix. I felt that I was eating Venezuelan comfort food and loved every bite.

The D grabbed an order of quesillo on her way out the door. Think flan. Oh, it was rich,creamy, and just delectable.

Back in June I pondered why children's menus are generally the culinary equivalent of the Yugo. Earlier this month my question was answered up at Slate. I bring this up because La Taguara gets good marks from me on their kid's menu. Yeah, it's heavy on hot dogs, which are also on the adult menu, but it also has mini empanadas and a smaller portion of pabellon. And there's nary a chicken nugget/tender to be found. Good on them.