Faces wearing different dreams: Doctor Who - The Nightmare of Black Island

I finally read a New Series Adventures Doctor Who novel. They've only been printed since 2005. To be honest, I've avoided them because of their reputation as being written for younger readers while I'm used to the novels of the Wilderness Years which were written, generally speaking, for older fans. And by "older" I mean adults of whatever age. Reading a book aimed at, say, 12-year-olds, just held little interest for me. Don't get me wrong, I think it's great that kids have Doctor Who books written for them. This just meant I'd be sticking with my EDA's and VNA's and whatnot.

Truth be told I've meant to try an NSA for a while and have occasionally bought one only to have it sit and collect dust until I made the decision to put in my local Little Free Library. This time I bought one resolved to actually read it. It took some time to get previous literary obligations done and dusted but I finally did the deed.

If I recall correctly, I bought The Nightmare of Black Island last fall and because it was written by Mike Tucker. I very much enjoyed the PDA's with the 7th Doctor and Ace that he and Robert Perry wrote and had just finished re-reading Illegal Alien in anticipation of hosting a panel discussion on the alternate season 27 that their novels comprised. Since that didn't happen I decided to expand my Tuckerian horizons.

To begin, it wasn't as simply written as I had feared. While it read more like a Target novelization than anything from the Wilderness Years - like it was written for boys in their early teens - it turned out not to be the subject-verb-object nightmare my mind had conjured. Tucker's style seemed to limit the number of settings and was more simplistic than his previous work with, for example, him ending a chapter by describing the baddies as they rip off their masks to reveal hideous alien faces underneath before noting "Miss Peyne and al the warders were aliens!" Still, there was an occasional paragraph that would have been at home in a PDA.

The setting, the I presume fictional rural Welsh village of Ynys Du, is filled with bad vibes and less than welcoming residents and has been seen before on TV although Justin Richards' PDA Grave Matter immediately came to my mind. Tucker does a good job of making it a creepy place. Most kids probably missed the inside joke of a character named Bob Perry. The Doctor on the page comes off as being much like his counterpart on TV though much less of a spaz, which I greatly appreciated. Tennant-lite, if you will. Rose seemed to be very Rose-like as she went off on her own a lot and proved quite capable, overall. Plus she wasn't afraid to give the Doctor a ration of crap.

The villains were archetypal aliens that would be twirling mustaches, if they had them, although their situation was a bit more complicated than just a gang of aliens seeking to destroy the Earth. There's a lot of grotesquerie here with a colony of seals being slaughtered by monsters conjured from the dreams of Ynys Du's children and there's a brutal beheading too. There were definitely times when it seemed like Tucker strayed from a remit to write for younger readers and came up with stuff for an older audience only to be reined in again.

This book did not encourage me to run out and buy more NSA's but it was a good, fun, and quick read. I will likely investigate the NSA's further and try to find another one to read.

Yasmin Williams creates Arcadian landscapes in Stoughton

It had been more than a month since I'd been to Stoughton and so, thinking I was overdue, a music-loving companion and I went down there to see Yasmin Williams over the weekend.

She was wonderful!

My camera was unable to really capture the moment very well but it was great - take my word on it.

When I first heard that Williams was going to be in Stoughton, I investigated her music and found it to be quite beautiful, in addition to being tuneful. She fingerpicks and, as you can see above, she often plays with her guitar bottom down on her lap which allows her to tap the fretboard.

I have her second album, Urban Driftwood, so it was neat to hear a couple tunes from that. The rest was terra incognita for me.

She explained her unusual method of playing as being derived from the days of her youth playing Guitar Hero. With the guitar controller on her lap, she would furiously tap the buttons. When she graduated to a guitar, this method followed her to the real instrument.

The set was littered with her stories and banter between songs. She seemed genuinely chuffed that there were people in the audience who had paid to hear her play. "Hummingbird", we learned, was inspired by her first visit to Pittsburgh which left her less than impressed while "New Beginnings" was dedicated to her mother.

For "Through the Woods" she set a kalimba on her guitar and told us that she first heard it on an Earth, Wind & Fire album that featured Maurice White playing it. I adore this song from Urban Driftwood and was thrilled that she played it that night. For "Nectar" she pulled out a Gibson double neck guitar, laid it on her lap, and proceeded to play both necks simultaneously. Brilliant!

Williams just seemed incredibly enthusiastic about her art. She loves to play and try new things with her instrument. For instance, when she got her Gibson, she sought out directions on playing it on Youtube where she discovered lots of videos of Jimmy Page performing with it. "The Songs Remains the Same" all fine and good, but not for her. Since nothing online appealed to her, she just made up her own method - playing both necks at the same time. Her enthusiasm was infectious and her delight at the results of her creativity was almost childlike in its evocation of simple joy.

Aside from her inter-song chats and her incredible talent playing the guitar in an unusual manner, her music was just gorgeous. Song titles are often about nature whether it be animals, non-man-made environments, or the weather and the music has a lovely, bucolic feel. You know how Rush's "Red Barchetta" has that racing down the road in a convertible feel, with the wind in your hair? Well, Williams' music is like that but with no car and walking through the wood instead. But it still has that wind in the hair thing going for it.

In Stoughton...

In Stoughton their utility boxes get rosemaled.

Happy 4/20!

A lovely morning

I saw a giant UFO contrail in the sky this morning. 

Hmmm...

It was a lovely sunrise this morning. Even from a BRT platform.

Coming soon, 18 April 2026

I took a day off after going to the movies 11 days in a row. These were seen at a screening of The Drama.

On the face of it, The Drama isn't something I'd watch whether it be at the cinema or at home. But I enjoyed director Kristoffer Borgli's previous flick, the surreal Dream Scenario, and heard good things (ahem) about the movie's sound design.

Stylistically The Drama is quite interesting, at times. Emma, played by Zendaya, is deaf in one ear and the movie provides different ambient sounds depending on whether a shot is from her point of view or her beau Charlie's. However, this motif is abandoned at some point and I am unsure why. Or largely abandoned as it seems the flashbacks to Emma's youth usually have a static in the background that reminded me of the run off groove of a record and they do until the end, if memory serves.

Emma's semi-deafness is played for laughs in the opening scene, used in a tender moment in another, and given an explanation that relates to her horrific revelation given one drunken night during a session of Tell Us the Worst Thing You Ever Did. In the main though, it is ignored and she can hear just fine otherwise, even quite well through a door in one scene when she is brooding in a bathroom and overhears a conversation outside the door.

Flashbacks, dreams, and inner visions are fairly prominent although they seemed to be used less frequently as the movie went on. For instance, the morning after the big revelation, Emma wakes up to find Charlie gone. We then to cut to a shot of him with his best friend Mike in a park. Mike is telling his friend that he can in no way marry Emma and that he'll do whatever it takes to prevent it and cover for him. Charlie returns to the home he shares with Emma and we get the impression that the scene was a doomsday scenario that played out only in Emma's head.

I think Borgli is trying to comment here on the roles of stories in our lives, how they affect us, add meaning, and allow us to assemble the events that make up our existence into what we call a life. But I'd need to watch the movie again to try and make connections between this theme and the stylistic elements the director employs.

Not sure I want to do that, though, as I found Charlie to be a thoroughly unlikable character. He is just so pathetic that it was painful for me to watch. When the couple fired their wedding DJ, she called Emma a bitch (I think) and Charlie a pussy and she had him dead to rights. He is obviously older than Emma yet is bumbling and came across as being quite immature. In many instances he stumbles through conversations and is often paralyzed by indecision. Perhaps this was to make the feel-good ending feel good.

Emma is a very sympathetic character and I found her transformation from someone who just wants to crawl under a rock after her drunken revelation to being a woman prone to fits of intense anger to be realistic. I empathized with her. It's just too bad she threw her lot in with a man-child.

Onto the trailers!

The first couple were commericals with no MPAA thingy.

I cannot recall the last time I saw 2 comic book movie trailers at a screening. The first was Spider-Man.

Now this one looked good with its House of Leaves vibe.

Is this the new Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice? A red band trailer.

Like Prince spaghetti night. But different.

I made my stepson and his old man some lasagne today.

It turned out fairly well. I know this as I sampled it. Just a little bit.

I also baked them a loaf of herb bread.

This I did not sample but I have made it before so I trust it's at least edible.

The Georgian People Really Love Garlic and Other Scenes from Dining Out

Since being driven from my house, I have done more cooking than I did while still living there. However, I have eaten out a fair bit this year. Much of my dining at restaurants can be attributed to being out of town or simply going to a show closer to home and choosing to grab a bite to eat beforehand with a fellow concert-goer.

The Great Dane's French onion soup has long been a favorite of mine. I believe they make it with a brown ale which is odd in that they rarely have a beer advertised as being a brown ale on tap. Hmm...?

I attended a couple puppet shows in Chicago back in January and the first was preceded by a meal at Elephant & Castle - the one on Adams. French onion soup once more, wings, and their meat pie sampler. There was a table of genuine Englishmen behind us so I guess E&C's take on the venerable English pub isn't too bad/inauthentic. Either that or they have a wide selection of soccer, er, football games on their TVs.

I ate at Forage Kitchen for the first time a couple months back. My Cobb-like salad was tasty and I appreciated all the kombucha on offer. Methinks the restaurant's owners also own a kombucha factory.

Madison's Mexican dining options used to be Pedro's and Chi Chi's. Now you can't swing a dead cat in this town without hitting a taqueria. I stopped in at El Gran Taco Gato after a movie and had a tasty burrito. Bonus points for having "cat" in the name. The Big Taco Cat?

My second trek to Chicago for a puppet show included a stop at Athenian Room in Lincoln Park. My companion and I split a Greek salad which came with a shingle-sized slab of feta while the pork tenderlion kabobs were nice and tender and delicious. Opa!

Before going to see the Paul McCartney documentary on the big screen, my fellow music doc lover and I had dinner at Buraka. I hadn't been there in ages. The chicken tibs were delicious and I ate every last square millimeter of injera.

Somehow I believe that I'd never eaten at Elie's Café until just a few weeks back. The omelet was tasty and surprisingly full of jalapeño. My mug was a bottomless well of that elixir of morning.

One chilly winter evening I took a companion to La Taguara as they'd never eaten there and I was looking for a little variation from El Sabor de Puebla which has become something of a go-to in times of evening hunger pains and a lack of desire to cook. The grilled chicken was simple yet highly delicious, although another gallon of guasacaca wouldn't have hurt.

As noted above, El Sabor de Puebla has become a semi-regular stop for me as they have locations on the north and northeast sides - close to home. I splurged one day and got a burrito poblano which is a rather large burrito smothered in rich mole sauce and covered in sesame seeds. OK, not covered but I was going for a Waffle House thing here.

On the way home from a puppet show in Chicago, my companion and I ended up in Wheeling and stopped in at Fresh Farms International Market. It has an Eastern European slant to it and the bakery was wonderful.

We discovered a Georgian restaurant across the street from the supermarket - Kitchen House Cafe. I hadn't been to any place that served Georgian food for many years - since a visit to the now-closed Argo Georgian Bakery on Devon which had extremely delicous khachapuri. The ones on the menu here looked great too but I tried other dishes that night. I began my meal with a bowl of Chikhirtma, a.k.a. - Georgian chicken soup.

A dinner roll on one side and little cups of vinegar & diced garlic on the other. A rather generous portion of garlic too. It was all delicious but I had no idea that garlic was served with the soup and the meal ended up being a total garlic festival as I had also ordered Chkmeruli, Georgian garlic chicken.

The Chkmeruli was great and I think I ended up eating about 40 cloves of garlic with that meal. I could still taste it the next morning no matter how much coffee I drank.

Before the Los Lobos show at the Stoughton Opera House a fellow music lover and I dined at Water Street Tavern. The French onion soup was excellent. It was hot and didn't taste like it had been sitting in a stock pot for hours. There were about 2 pounds of cheese on top so it was a bit of a messy affair.

The Bún bò Huế at Saigon Noodle quickly became a favorite of mine since trying it last year and has filled a soup gap in my diet riven open when Wah Kee closed. Different soups, I grant you, but this Bún bò Huế satisfies that mid-winter noodle soup lust. One of my dining companions that night is Hmong and they highly rate this stuff so we are in accordance on its deliciousness.

Back in the early 1990's when I was a denizen of Witte Hall, the mother of one of my new friends would occasionally take us out for dinner. These occasions not only meant a free meal and one not from Gordon Commons, but also an opportunity to get away from campus and see more of Madison. One of the places we dined at was the late Smoky's Club. R.I.P. Another was Smoky Jon's #1 BBQ. Smoky Jon's has a special place in my heart for being the first north side joint I ever went to and a special place in my stomach because they have the best BBQ in town.

I now live fairly close to the restaurant and have been there a few times this year. The shorter, middle-aged fellow who runs the counter - that guy is great. He gave me and my dining companion burnt ends samples one time and he has the dryest, drollest sense of humor in all of Madison restaurantdom. I was relieved to find out after Smoky Jon died that they still pipe blues music into the dining room. A Madison classic.

When Piper died, I needed comfort food which meant Italian beef which meant Portillo's.

Miss you, Pipey!

I try to meet a friend who lives in Middleton for dinner once a month or so. One recent excursion saw us at Taza, a place that serves Mediterranean cuisine. The beef shawarma was excellent.

One of the reasons why I chose the apartment I did was its proximity to the home of a friend. When we're both working from home and our schedules allow, we like to take lunch together and usually wander down the street to dine. The Tip Top Tavern serves a fine salad and my friend has high praise for their mac & cheese.

For one trek to Chicago this past winter to see some fine puppet action my traveling companion and I decided to park in Elgin and take the train into the city. That night we dined at Zaab Thai in the Chicagoland exurb before returning to Madison. The food was excellent though they were a bit stingy when it came to turning up the thermostat. It was chilly in there.

To start, their cucumber salad is probably the best I've had as it wasn't overly sweet like every other version I've eaten and had fresh jalapeño slices to boot.

The glass noodle salad was great too. Lots of vegetables and not just a little here and there atop a mound of noodles. I asked for very spicy and, for my sins, they gave me very spicy. Woo doggy! It was hot. As in endorphin rush hot. My scalp got all tingly. Despite the heat, it was very flavorful.

A real gem of a place tucked away in a mall tucked away on Elgin's southwest side.

On a recent stop at the Great Dane I acutally didn't order the French onion soup and instead got a tasty salad laden with shrimp. My dining companion ordered beignets.

Earlier this week I took my stepson out for dinner. He had a hankering for Pad Thai so we went to his local Thai joint, Thai Boat Noodle. Thai restaurants used to be rare as hen's teeth in these parts but no longer. Perhaps not as numerous as Mexican restaurants, nonetheless Thai places are now rather common. The spring rolls and chicken satay were fine, though I think the dipping sauces could use less sugar and more fish sauce.

I had Crying Tiger with a medium level of spice. It is a bit like larb but the meat wasn't ground. Slices of beef mixed with green onion and cilantro. And either their medium heat level is the equivalent of high elsewhere or the cook made a little mistake because this stuff was hot. Not blazing, not deadly but I did feel it. If I'd gotten their hottest level of spice I think I would have cried. As it was, very tasty.

And those are some of my gustatory exploits of 2026. I have gone to the cinema every day since last Monday and have either eaten at a restaurant or just prepared something quick at home like a salad or some Buona Beef. Today I am making lasagne, most of which is going to my stepson and his father, and baking a loaf of bread for them. Hopefully this is the start of more cooking at home. 

But not before another trek to Chicago where I'll no doubt be dining somewhere in the Loop.

Joy and Hope are What Ladysmith Black Mambazo Is All About

A couple weeks back I went to see the South African vocal group Ladysmith Black Mambazo at the Atwood Music Hall. The show was originally scheduled for mid-March but a blizzard put paid to any performance that night. I'd been meaning to see them for a while but never did until now.

They found fame in the West, or America at least, in the late 1980s when they appeared on Paul Simon's Graceland. By that time the group had already been around for a quarter of a century plus having been formed in 1960 by Bhekizizwe Joseph Shabalala. As if to get the "hit" out of the way, they opened with "Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes". At least I think so as my music-loving companion with me at the show knew only that it was their popular song from Graceland.

Although Joseph Shabalala passed on in 2020, his sons carry on his legacy in the group. If memory serves, 4 of them were onstage that night. The various members took turns doing lead vocals at the front of the stage and I was blown away. I don't know that I'd heard much of their music before and it was simply wonderful. Those vocal harmonies!

Aside from the sheer melodious overload, the lyrics were largely hopeful and joyous. Some songs were in English while the rest were in their native tongue, I believe - Zulu? "You Make Me Happy" may have been in my native tongue but I didn't need to understand the non-English lyrics of "Ukuthula (Joy, Peace & Happiness)" to feel its positive vibe.

If mirth wasn't the main feeling of a song then it was hope. There was a tune, "Phansi Emigodini (Deep Down in the Mines)", dedicated to the miners of their homeland who break their backs day in and day out as well as one called "Tough Times Never Last" which speaks of the resilience of black South Africans.

"Ukuthula" is sung in Zulu(?) and English and no greater example of what Ladysmith Black Mambazo is about happened as my companion and I were walking down the street. A young couple with two small children who had been at the show were walking to their car and the mother was singing as she strolled down the sidewalk - "I've have joy, peace, and happiness!"

Song of the day, 17 April 2026

New furniture

My new futon-couch arrived today.

Now I can recline while watching my TV again. I think it's been almost 3 weeks since I've used it. Not sure what to watch. The Museum of Innocence? That new Ken Burns doc on Thoreau?

I now have a couch and I have the pet hair attachment for my vacuum. Now I just need a cat.

Taste of Albuquerque: Eldora Chocolate

Some Eldora chocolate from Albuquerque.

It was found in a little shop somewhere in Old Town.

This is tasty stuff. Perhaps a little less sweet than most chocolates that are 70%, um, chocolate. I intend to try more if/when I return to Albuquerque. Give me that 85% bar!

I Can't Wait to Be Old - Tony Baker

The Law & Order bit made me LOL.

Not dead yet: print-only publications: the pub

My first issues of the pub are here.

the pub is a print-only newspaper from Chicago and I subscribed after seeing an ad for it in the classifieds of County Highway, another newspaper that you cannot read online. When they arrived I felt grateful that I could receive a publication in the mail without my wife scrutinizing it and for not being accused of wrongthink as she yelled her fulminations up at me from the bottom of the stairs first thing in the morning. It saddens me to recall what an arrogant, self-righteous, insulting stormtrooper of the far left she became.

While County Highway has a libertarian streak, the pub is decidedly left-leaning and covers Chicago(land?) exclusively. For instance, I have read the article on Cut Cats Courier, a worker-owned bicycle delivery service in ChiTown.

Another piece detailed how some Chicago musicians are leaving Spotify.

Honestly, these wouldn't be out of place in County Highway. I think the pub is a bit less polished, a bit more proletarian with fewer professional writers. Not a bad thing by any means, mind you.

In addition to getting writers and aspring writers into print, the pub sponsors many events such as a movie night and lino cut print lessons to foster offline community. To top things off, a favorite brewery, of mine, Dovetail, is one of their "distribution hubs" meaning the latest issue can always be found there. Just like Rauchbier.

FraKtional: Addendum

While walking to the bus stop the other night I stumbled across another fractional address. The others I've found are here.

My first spring in Eken Park

Spring has sprung here in Eken Park!

Trees are budding.

My backyard is fulling of bunnies. I love watching them chase one another from yard to yard.

Epic fail trying to photograph the cardinal singing not to far from my window.

Wisconsin Film Festival 2026: The Last Critic

A heart-warming look in shallow focus at a man who has built a career out of confusing clever, pithy turns of phrase for serious engagement with the art of music. I now know why Ann Powers' work makes me nauseous.

B

Abandon all phones ye who enter here

A few weeks back The Capital Times published an article on Lake View Elementary School here in Madison and all the outdoor education opportunies it offers.

A series of ropes tied together make a “spider web” that students can lie down on; a “music garden” with a variety of noise-making tools allows students to create their own rhythms and beats; a jumble of tree stumps and logs create a “ninja course” for students to hop across; and a “construction zone” once filled with sticks and branches for students to play with is now a towering tree fort.

These spots make up Lake View’s nature stations, which are part of the north side Madison school’s outdoor education programming. With the help of volunteers and grant funding, Lake View’s five-acre campus has transformed over the last decade into a collection of vibrant outdoor learning spaces.

I think it's absolutely wonderful that kids have so many opportunities to spend time in non-man-made environments and to explore some of the things nature has to offer. (Plus the kids get away from f*cking computer screens.) It only seems right in a town with such strong ties to Aldo Leopold.

The school's principal, Nkaujnou Vang-Vue, was recently named the 2026 Administrator of the Year by the Wisconsin Association for Environmental Education for her promotion of environmental education. Congratulations, Ms. Vang-Vue!

Not long after running across this article, I learned of a study published back in 2012 which looked at the illustrations in Caldecott Medal winning books from 1938 through 2008. The Caldescott is awarded for to the "most distinguished American picture book for children". The study found that illustrations of non-man-made environments have decreased over the years.

Researchers looked at whether images depicted a natural environment such as a jungle or a forest; a built environment such as a house, a school or an office; or something in-between, such as a mowed lawn. They also noted whether any animals were in the pictures – and if so, if those creatures were wild, domesticated or took on human qualities.

Their results, Williams said, visibly exhibited a steady decline in illustrations of natural environments and animals, as well as humans’ interactions with both. Meanwhile, images of built environments became much more common.

...

“This does not mean, of course, that environmentalism is not an important part of American culture, but it does suggest that the current generation of young children listening to the stories and looking at the images in children’s books are not being socialized, at least through this source, toward greater understanding and appreciation of the natural world and the place of humans within it,” the authors wrote.

It's good to see that we have places like Lake View Elementary and the Aldo Leopold Nature Center to help foster an appreciation for the natural world in the youth of today - and tomorrow too.

A Wurst by Any Other Name

The sun was just above the horizon when I arrived at the hotel. It was a Saturday morning and normally I'd be relaxing at home with a cup of coffee but the siren call of kielbasa lured me to the far west side for the annual convention of the Wisconsin Association of Meat Processors where I'd be a judge in the product competition. Along with the Wisconsin Film Festival, the WAMP convention is a sure sign of spring for me.

It had been a couple two tree years since I'd been a judge and I was looking forward to sampling processed meats from across the state. Theoretically the most skilled sausage stuffers, the masters of curing, and the demiurges of dehydrating would all have their best works on offer. Sadly my friend Ed, who got me into this whole rigamarole, would not be there as he had family obligations. A shame as the WAMP convention is the only time I get to see him these days. He's a grandfather now and so he has new non-processed meat responsibilites.

A few days previously we received an email detailing the categories we'd be judging and whom we'd be paired with. My jaws quivered in anticipation as I read the message and I breathed a huge sigh of relief after seeing that I was not assigned whole muscle jerky duty. Chewing through two samples is enough to make my jaws ache for 24 hours much less 20 samples.

This year I'd be judging Bratwurst - Specialty (Cooked & Uncured) and Kielbasa/Polish sausage, fairly easy products to deal with as you don't need to throw them on a slicer or use a hacksaw to get through bone.

After introductory remarks and a briefing from Jeff Sindelar, a UW-Madison professor of meat science and organizer of the competition, we headed to the room where the entrants lay. And the dashing lab coats.

Here's what my fellow judge and I found awaiting us:

There were many fewer entrants than in the pre-Covid days but Jeff noted that, overall, the competition had more product than any year since Covid landed back in 2020. We had 15-20 products in each of our categories this year whereas we'd be at 30+ back in the teens. Not a problem as I don't need the extra salt in my diet.

We began with Bratwurst - Specialty (Cooked & Uncured).

There were three rounds of judging for each product. For the first we looked at external appearance. Was the casing filled all the way? Were there any air or fat pockets? Was the shape of the wursts consistent? That kind of thing.

Then we sliced one of the links lengthwise and judged the interior appearance.

Were there air pockets? Were the ingredients evenly distributed? Etc., etc.

I think every product in this category had cheese in it. Cheese along with some kind of chili was the most common variation. There were a couple jalapeño cheddar varieties and a couple with names that didn't really explain what the taste would be like. I think one was called "Badger Triple Threat" or some such thing. One of the jalapeño cheddar sausages did not mess around and was very spicy hot. Now that I think about it, we didn't check off "Too spicy" on the sheet as we both really liked the heat but I suppose for the palate of the teeming masses, this was very, very spicy stuff.

The sausages above on the left were green olive, blue cheese, and something something which made for a welcome change from the cheese'n'chili monotony.

There is a large element of personal taste involved in all of this as well as rules and guidelines. How prominent should the flavors of chilies or cheese or beer or olives be in a bratwurst? If you cannot taste the peppers, black & white, nor any nutmeg because your tongue is consumed with capsaicin or cheese, is this alright? It's still a wurst but is it a bratwurst?

Oddly enough, the olives were barely perceptible in those green olive brats. And the potatoes and onions in the potato and onion brats were barely cooked. I give them points for at least putting neither cheese nor chilies in 'em.

With the brats being done, we took a break for lunch. We chatted as we ate and I discovered that my fellow judge used to work for my pal Ed who got me into this whole judging thing. Small world. After lunch we turned our attention to kielbasa. This would be a much simpler category to judge as it was smoked Polish sausage and nothing but smoked Polish sausage.

As were inspecting exterior appearance, we came across one entrant that had the texture of jelly. We were both curious about this sausage and were anxious to cut it open. When the time arrived for the slicing, I had visions of a little xenomorph popping out like in Alien. Instead we found that it was simply not fully cooked.

This one would have to be disqualified and Prof. Sindelar came over and did the deed on the grading sheet.

Some of the entrants lacked a garlic taste, which I found odd, but even stranger was one that tasted like a hot dog with what tasted like that coriander-pepper combo.

Here are the talliers tallying our kielbasa scores:

With our judging finished, I took some time to look at the other products.

Bacon! Slabs as far as the eye could see.

This one was new to me: bratwurst Wellington. I was told that it was pretty good.

Head cheese aplenty.

Not sure what this was. Looks like the bacon rolls I find at Polish delis in Chicago.

Chicken blueberry mozarella sticks?!

Another year of processed meat gluttony. We had fun too, though. As I left the hall clutching my gift cooler, I could feel all that salt pulsing through my veins and wondered if I'd be accosted by a deer's tongue on my way to my car.

The gift pack's contents featured winning products from last year:

Bacon! I am looking forward to trying out that cherry BBQ rub. A friend has a grill to give me - I just need to head over to his place to grab it.