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As I was driving home yesterday up I-35, a green Ford Escort station wagon passed me. There were sheets of notebook paper stuck to the inside of every window, and on one sheet was typed neatly:
"Jesus is your ticket to heaven. But you can't buy him on Priceline."
?
You can buy a ticket to Corpus Christi, though, if you want. And you never know - with all the crazy stuff for sale on eBay, you might actually be able to buy a Jesus relic or two.
girlie
I was out today for lunch, with this invaluable book propped up against my water glass, when the waitress came up to me.
"Are you planning a move to Italy?"
"Yes, my husband is supposed to be starting culinary school there this fall."
"Really? Where in Italy?
"Florence."
She paused and looked at me, balancing a pitcher of iced tea, a pitcher of water, and two empty plates, and said, "I guess Florence is nice, if you like that sort of thing. It completely lacks modern amenities, though."
And I could not for the life of me figure out what she was talking about. I mean, they have hot AND cold running water, our prospective apartment contains a full refrigerator, a dishwasher, a washing machine, and an air conditioner (which I plan to NEVER turn on, lest we get socked with 300 euro energy bills), Italians are famous for their cell-phone consumption... I was drawing a complete blank.
I guess my confusion showed on my face, since she said, "Well, they don't have supermarkets."
Ohh-kay. I've always thought it would take some getting used to, going to like six different stores to put together a meal - you know, the pasta stand, the root vegetable guy, the lady who sells the best peppers, the awesome bakery down the street, the wine shop, and the butcher's - but I don't view this as being backwards. I think it's a much better way to look at food, and though I might get testy popping into one place for my butter and another for my bread, I believe I'm going to come out of it with a better appreciation of the people behind the food. (Speaking of appreciating the people behind the food, we finally opened the fig preserves we bought from the lady I described in this post - and they are delicious. Not too sweet, just nice and figgy. Back to you, girlie.)
When I go to our local HEB, I see so many people with their carts full of boxed foods, or meats wrapped in styrofoam and plastic. We're so out of touch with our food here, and I'm so excited to learn from the Italians about what makes a good ball of mozzarella, or how to grow the best basil, or what you feed a cow to make the steak taste that good.
Wooooo!
girlie
We're back from our weekend trip to Arkansas. It was wonderful to see everyone, though I hate the reason that brought us there. It's going to take a long, long time to adjust to Carol not being around - she was such a wonderful, warm, caring, no-nonsense personality.
well.
We ended up leaving Austin quite late on Friday - about 9:30 or so. After five hours or so of driving through pretty uneventful weather (the freezing rain was going to jump up and bite us later on in the weekend) we exited the highway exhausted in Longview, Texas. Though there was a sign by the side of the road indicating a surfeit of nearby hotels and motels, we somehow ended up driving 20 miles or so through the darkened streets of Longview before finding a Days Inn.
The hotel only ended up costing us $10 per hour for the 6 hours we were there, plus we got raisin bran, yay for that.
The pickup parked next to us in the lot had this bumper sticker:
Ah, Texas.
Luckily, we were only 2.5 hours from L-Dizzog (El Dorado, natch), and the rest of the drive was fine.
Our visit was short, but we did get to briefly see le bebe, who just wanted a freakin' nap. Why won't you people leave him alone?
What a cutie.
As it turned out, we only ended up staying in Arkansas until late afternoon on Sunday. Husbear had to be at work today at 3:30, and he didn't want to drive all 8 hours back to Austin on Monday. Though the trip was much shorter than we wanted it to be, we did make the most of the time we did have and spent as much of it as we could with the Husbear's folks and Carol's family.
We attempted to leave around 5 on Sunday, but the car, sensing the difficulties to come, refused to crank. Great. Perfect, we wanted to say. GQ saved the day while simultaneously showing us to be very poor mechanics by cleaning the corrosion off of the battery terminals. Cranked right up. Oh well - I've learned a new trick now, which I can use to wow my neigbors. (thanks, GQ! We'd still be scratching our heads in your driveway if it weren't for you!)
We almost got all the way to Shreveport (in a bit of a drizzle, which froze on our windshield) before hitting any trouble. I-20 heading west was closed before we got to town, so we turned around to head east back to the loop... but I-20 east had some problems on the entrance ramp, involving a fire truck, and ambulance, and a bunch of people scratching their heads in a ditch next to a truck with all doors open. We picked our way around that, and got ready to exit onto the I-220 loop... but...
A line of headlights stretching up the exit ramp convinced us this maybe wasn't the best idea. So, around again and back to the closed I-20 west. We exited and managed to take surface roads almost all the way downtown, where we went 3 blocks in an hour before hearing that all of the bridges from Bossier City into Shreveport were closed, leaving us stranded in Bossier (That's boah-zher, to you yanks) and unable to continue any further on our journey to Austin. Dangit.
(This is just fascinating, isn't it?)
We found a hotel room and went out for some Mexican food, arriving at La Posadas (?) just as they closed - which we learned when an over-gelled idiot met us at the door and asked us "Whatchall NYEEEED?" upon our arrival. After stabbing him in the eye (in my mind) we found another Mexican restaurant, where we each had a giant plate of melted rubbery cheese accompanied with margaritas that were syrupy sweet and bitingly nasty, at the same time.
Yikes.
The next morning, we discovered that the La Quinta has a make-your-own waffle bar! Callou callay! We ate our fill of waffles and hard-boiled eggs and full fat yogurt and honey-nut cheerios and headed out to the car.
Though we didn't have any choice, I'm glad we stopped when we did on Sunday night.
Of course, there was another accident on 20 west, so we sat in traffic for three hours trying to make it out of town.
As it turned out, the reason traffic was so bad was because the interstate was closed... again... (though we did see one guy pick his way through the barricades - wonder what happened to him?) so we wandered aimlessly through the ghetto. It really would have been nice to have a cop or two directing traffic.
We did eventually make it back to the interstate. Heading west, it was completely clear, since we entered right after the closure... heading east, though, it looked like they were going through the same problems we had been shortly before.
Finally, we were through.
We drove and drove and drove and drove and stopped for gas
and drove and drove and drove and saw a truck with a giant snake head wearing a bow (or perhaps a steak with a leafy garnish - you tell us) advertising cheap meat (but is it tasty? Or disease-free?)
And then we drove and drove and drove and drove and napped a little and drove
And made it to Corsicana, which has its very own synagogue! (I had no idea until I got home that this building with a star of david rose window was an actual synagogue. Huh.)
We ate at a Mexican restaurant we've been wanting to try since the first time we drove through Corsicana.
I wanted to know if this sign was on purpose. After perusing the menu and having a burrito with tomatillo sauce and a side of "mexicant" rice and seeing that this restaurant is part of a chain in small towns in east Texas, I'm reasonably certain that this isn't an accident. Or, if it was, it isn't any more.
But you think they'd explain something like that on the menu, wouldn't you?
So concludes the fascinating story of our drive from El Dorado to Austin. Things went steadily down crap hill after we got home... the folks at work are being... difficult. And that's all I'll say, since I don't want to get dooced.
girlie
I'm really not good at writing about my feelings, so let me just say...
Carol, we're really going to miss you. If anyone could have beaten this, it was you.
ee cummings said that the most wasted of days is one without laughter, and you knew this better than anyone.
girlie
Austin has a new, fun, little addition to the fast service culinary scene. It’s called Boomerang’s and it’s a haven for some delightfully savory Australian-style pies.
On a recent visit, we had a chat with Jack of the proprietary duo Jack and Emilie Fennell. Apparently, they got the Aussie meal-in-a-pie concept while working for Dell on a 3 year dispatch to Sydney. The handheld, tasty pastry is so popular Down Under that the couple decided to move back to hometown Austin and open up their own pie outpost.
I don’t know if one or both of them have a marketing background, but they’ve done a great job on the branding and décor of the place. From custom door handles and light fixtures to the comely blue concrete floors and brushed copper cabinets, the little restaurant is a just plain inviting space to hang out and get your grub on.
I know what you’re thinking, “Alright Mr. Talky McRambles, cut with the interior design and get to the eating.”
Ok, ok, I’ve got to give the Fennells props for deciding to make all of their crusts and fillings from scratch. They could have easily gone the scoop-it-out-of-a-can route, but these homestyle pies are some moist, buttery, goodness. They offer eleven different varieties in both the veggie and meat genres. While the overall concept may be Aussie, the flavors span a larger gamut. The range includes classics of course, but also southwestern, Asian, pizza, and even some Texas BBQ.
If it’s your first time, I would recommend starting with one of the traditional offerings, either the classic beef or the steak and mushroom, with ketchup if you want the official experience. For the non-carnivorous among us, both the Mediterranean and the Spicy Mexican Veggie make excellent choices.
Boomerang’s also makes their own kettle chips that are certainly better than bags of mass produced crispies, but on the day we were there they were a bit on the overcooked side. And while the salads are welcome signs of greenery, they are at best serviceable side-notes to the main pastry attractions.
Currently, the joint is all B.Y.O.B, but once they get their license they’ll have a nice variety of beer and wine and Tuesdays appear to be slated for $2 pint night in good Aussie fashion.
All things considered, this unique little eatery is definitely worth your attention. The fast, friendly service, extremely reasonable prices (around $4.50 per pie) and delicious fare will certainly have us stopping by for more.
Boomerang’s 3110 Guadalupe (512) 380-0032
-L. Pants
After that lovely meal -achem- at Arancia Blu (ref. last honeymoon post) we had to get up REALLY early in the morning to take the train out to the airport to catch our plane to Athens and then on to Santorini. The shuttle train from Roma Termini out to the airport is fast and inexpensive - about half the price of a taxi, even with having to buy tickets for two people!
Our flight from Rome to Athens was lovely and without incident. During a pit stop at the Athens airport, I saw something referenced in all of our guidebooks:
You're not supposed to flush anything, including toilet paper, in the vast majority of the toilets of Greece. There's a little trash can positioned by every toilet that is there for that purpose. This takes a little getting used to, but if I had the choice I'd take the little trash cans over the hole-in-the-floor toilets any day.
Our layover was pretty short, so it was soon time to go out to the tarmac and board our puddle-jumper to Santorini.
On that flight, we struck up a conversation with an American girl across the aisle. She didn't have a place to stay that night, and was getting concerned - so we lent her our travel books to give her a few more leads on possible sleeping places.
The flight was beautiful, over the Mediterranean. Small islands dotted the sea and looked extra inviting. I would love to spend years hopping from island to island...
We landed at the teeny airport and retrieved our bags, then hooked back up with the hotel-less American and headed for the shuttle-bus stop, but of course we just missed the hourly service.
Doing some pretty simple math, we realized that with three people it would actually be cheaper to take a taxi (8 euros) than wait an hour for the bus (3 euros each) - so we walked back to the terminal, hailed a taxi, and got in for the short ride to the main town of Fira.
This was when we struck up a conversation about where she was from and where we were from. As it turned out, we were both from Chicago - she from the near North side and me from the South Side. She then dropped a bomb that she went to the U of C Lab schools during middle and high school - the same school I attended for three rather unhappy years of my life in middle school! We didn't know each other, since she was a year ahead of me, but still... a really odd moment.
The taxi dropped us off near the center of town (well, side of town, since Fira snakes along the top of a fairly narrow cliff) and we said our goodbyes. Husbear and I headed down to Hotel Loucas, our home for the next several days. We walked down narrow streets with white, white curbs (we later saw the proprietors out painting their stoops in the early mornings) and eventually popped out on top of a beautiful view. Actually, I'm not sure if calling it "beautiful" does this island justice...
I mean, COME ON. this was just ridiculous.
Our hotel, the Hotel Loucas, is one of the oldest in Fira. (It really only dates to 1968, though - apparently, Fira hasn't been a crazy popular tourist destination for all that long.)
That's me on the walkway, in case you were doubting that we took these pictures.
Our room was many steps down the side of the cliff - and it was a great, great room. Interestingly, it's featured on the hotel's website - that never happens to me!
Though it was quite hot during our visit (which was only June, so I imagine it must be boiling here during the late summer) our room stayed nice and cool. And we had a great view.
There are several small islands in the middle of Santorini's bay - they are what's left of the giant volcano that erupted in 1650 BCE, destroying the center of the island. They're called Palea Kameni (old burnt - appeared in AD 157, according to Frommer's), Nea Kameni, (appeared beginning sometime in the early 18th century) and Thirassia, the only one of the three that's inhabited. We didn't unfortunately have time to go out to the three islands, but I imagine the Kamenis would be fascinating to a geologist.
We decided to go for a walk up to the Petros Nomikos Conference Center. I know this sounds strange, but we heard they had a great exhibit on the ancient wall paintings of Akrotiri, a site called the Minoan Pompeii that was buried in the ancient volcanic eruption.
First, though, we figured we'd go get some cash out. We got a little concerned when we reached the bank.
Luckily, though, the ATM was still stocked. I'm glad we weren't relying on traveler's checks, since we would have been SOL.
The walk up to the conference center was stunning.
The sunlight on the island just illuminates everything in a way I've never seen before. Most of the streets were paved with small pebbles, a detail which must have taken some care, and quite a bit of maintenance.
This particular mosaic was in the courtyard of a Catholic Church in Fira.
I think I'll have to pause now for a breather - we did take some pictures of the wall paintings, which were not at all what we expected, and of course a lot more pictures of the island.
But right now, I have to watch Canada play Italy in women's hockey. I find that during the Olympics, I tend to watch sports I would NEVER seek out normally. However, if someone wants to form a national curling association, I would be all about watching that.
-girlie
So, I'm just too sleepy to do a real post tonight - though we are starting to get a backlog on Flickr of photos we need to post. I've got another honeymoon post in the pipeline (though you can refresh your memory here, if you'd like), and we went to this completely fun new meat pie (!) restaurant last weekend that we're totally going to post about, seriously, just hang with us for a minute here.
Gawd, you people. So demanding. :-) (Or maybe that's just my delusions of grandeur, telling me that there are people besides myself who care how long it takes me to get up another post about a trip we took almost two years ago. Yeah, that's it.)
(By the way, is everyone rejoicing that Barbie and Ken are back together? Thought so.)
I actually wanted to post tonight because the father-of-Husbear, GQ, is in Malaysia for a business trip right now - I just wanted him to know we're thinking of him, and hope he's having a grand ol' time! And, if I were a lesser person, I might add that we're awfully jealous and sure would like to have been allowed to stow away in his luggage, if he hadn't been all "no, that's illegal" and "you really can't travel in the cargo hold - that's very dangerous" and blah blippity blah. Wouldn't even meet us halfway.
'Course, the last time GQ went to Malaysia, he brought back the most fun cookbook EVER, which Husbear used to make this. (He's actually made a similar dish before, which he blogged here.)
That's a tasty tamarind-based tempeh stir fry, if memory serves me correctly. This is why we shouldn't be allowed to build up a photo backlog - I look at this picture and think "yeah, that sure was tasty... but what the hell is it? Eh."
The bookbook (or cookbook, whatever floats your boat) is called A Cook's Guide to Asian Vegetables, and it is awesome and quite comprehensive and thorough.
Anyhoo, Husbear's working brunch prep for at least a half day (= 8 hours) on Saturday - so maybe I'll just go ahead and use that time for posting about our arrival in Santorini. That is, unless I write 750 words about how much Bob Costas sucks for not EVER, EVER shutting up during the Olympic opening ceremonies. Yeah, I'm still mad at him for talking all the way through the Athens opening ceremonies. Gah.
Or maybe there will be no post at all this weekend - mayhaps I enjoy keeping everyone guessing, including myself.
Have a happy Friday!
-girlie
So, I hope our four readers can keep a secret, 'cause I'm pretty excited about this and have to put it on the internet....
We bought our tickets for Italy yesterday!
Phew, glad I got that out.
Of course, now it's time to commence the freakout about just how much has to happen between now and when our flight takes off on the 16th of August...
We have our flight and a place to live so far, and that's it. Now we need to figure out student loans and applications and visas and banking/credit cards and insurance and cell-phones (should we or shouldn't we?) and internet access and jobs? and how I'm going to break the news to my boss - which will be really sad, since I like my job and like working for her.
Yeah, there's a little bit to do.
And this much time to do it in!
hoo boy. We've got some work to do...
-girlie
Well, since there's guacamole made, Corona and chips purchased, and limes wedged, it must be almost time for the Superbowl!
Husbear's been cooking for several hours already. He's made bean dip (don't groan, this one is actually from scratch and looks/tastes awesome), the aforementioned guacamole, and a mexican-style tempeh/green bean/onion/pipian stirfry we're meant to eat in lettuce wraps.
We do have friends coming over to help us out with all the food, though. And the beer. Thank Gd.
This year Mr. Pants took the guacamole for a little twist...
He showed the avocados and limes who's boss by grilling them first, and then adding the usual cilantro, chopped red onion, bit of serrano, and his garlic/salt paste.
While he's been doing this, I've been cleaning the house. Since if I tried to make guacamole it would taste like the death of an avocado, this division of labor suited me fine.
Gotta finish getting everything ready... go Seahawks! (we've decided at the last minute. Though, as we all know, it's the advertisers with their $83,333 per second ads that are the real winners.)
Have a great superbowl!
-girlie
Lots of people hate beets. I know the first few times I tried them, they tasted like dirt. Of course, that could have been because they were the canned, pickled kind... and those are gross. Plus, on top of often not being tasty, they are really intimidating to work with, tending to dye all available surfaces in your kitchen bright pinky red.
When treated correctly, though, beets can be a wonderful earthy vegetable, with a sweet flavor that is very different from other root vegetables. They are so, so good roasted! The first time I ever had beets and liked them, though, was in borscht from Mabenka, a Lithuanian restaurant on the South Side of Chicago. (I miss that restaurant so much.)
Borscht, really good borscht, is difficult to come by here in Austin. This is why every time the Soup Peddler puts it on his menu, we jump on it. (By the way, if you're in Austin and haven't signed up for the Soup Peddler, you really should do so! His soups are good, for the most part, and it's a great local business to support! Here's another post about a Soup Peddler soup.)
The Soup Peddler's version is vegetarian, and totally full of beety goodness. It also contains potatoes and cabbage, very Eastern European, and then a little Granny Smith apple for sweetness. It's very tasty.
So, what do you have with borscht?
That's a really easy question - you have potato pancakes. We didn't get to make these this year during Hanukkah, so I was jonesin'.
These potato pancakes a la Husbear are made with potatoes he baked and riced with this awesme ricer I got him for Christmas a couple of years ago. It's great for making gnocchi, too, and fluffy mashed potatoes.
He took the riced 'taters and added grated carrot (for sweetness), green onion (for onionyness), garlic he mashed into a paste with salt and the side of his knife in this awesome Italian technique, salt/pepper, nutmeg (for flavor, duh), a half of a thin sliced serrano (you need a little heat, right?) and panko and egg for binding.
This all got mashed together and formed into patties, which he pan-fried in cast iron in maybe an inch of oil.
These were some seriously tasty potato pancakes.
Then, serve with the traditional sides:
Sour cream and applesauce. Oooh, so good!
It's fun to have these Jewish-style meals - thanks Sr. Peddler, for giving us the nudge!
-girlie
