Boots in the Oven

I Surreptitiously Photograph Dead People.

(Note: Since photography of the exhibit is strictly verboten, some of my shots turned out a little goofy as they were taken from inside my pants.)

This past weekend Girlie and I made the relatively short, but extremely well paved trip to Houston to visit my cousin and his lady-friend. Our purpose was two fold. First, we wanted to see those rockin’ guys before we fled the county and the natural poverty of youth kept us from seeing each other for a year or so. And secondly, Houston, specifically the Houston Museum of Natural Science, is currently hosting a very cool exhibit called Body Worlds 3.

While you can read extensively about it on-line, I’ll just give you the Cliff’s notes. Basically, this guy Dr. Gunther von Hagens and his staff, take real folks (and the occasional fuzzy animal) and replace all of the rotty bits that are prone to go all posthumously oozy with stabilizing plasticy compounds that don’t smell or squish.

The result is an amazing blend of science and art that brings a real sense of awe to the study of anatomy.

The process preserves colors so you can literally see yourself from the inside out. It lets them isolate individual systems like the entire circulatory network and strip away everything else. What emerges is a perfect representation of a man or bunny or whatever, composed entirely from an incredibly complex tapestry of veins, arteries and capillaries.

Basically, it’s really cool. Oh, and the disturbing lung exhibit is definitely a strong impetus to never smoke. Ever. Or stop very soon. Good lord.

The exhibit is open until September 4th, so if you’re in the Houston area I highly recommend making the trek to see it. Not only is it extremely informative and amazing to look at, it also has the added bonus of pissing off the prudish and misinformed.

Stay tuned for further Houston updates where our intrepid adventures partake of possibly the best pizza in Texas, if not the lower 48. Chris Bianco, does Marco Wiles have your number?  (Probably not.)

-L.Pants

In which we peep Chora, Naxos

Firstly, an update: We are leaving Austin two weeks from tomorrow and have yet to get our visas, though the harried woman who answered the phone at the Italian consulate yesterday did tell me, "It is a matter of days."  Unfortunately, she didn't say whether it's a matter of 2 days or 12...

Well, let's look at happier things that aren't making me tear my hair out!

June 18, 2004 (ahem...):  Naxos Town.

This was the day for exploring Chora, Naxos' main town.  Many of the islands all around Greece have main towns named Chora or Hora (Naxos, Paros, Mykonos...)- so if a friend tells you they visited Chora, Greece, force their vague butts to clarify.

Naxos' Hora looked very different from Fira, on Santorini.  The streets had a more Arabic feel, perhaps due to the long Turkish occupation - they were much narrower, for one thing, and really byzantine in their twists.  (Here's a brief history of Naxos, if you're interested.)  Many a time I'd be looking down the street we were walking on and think "That street can't actually turn directly under that building... can it?"

But it can, and it did. 

The old Venetian center of Hora, where we were wandering, had a pronounced medieval feel.

We were wandering the district almost by ourselves - though there were a lot of cats around - probably because it was the hottest part of the day.  We were extra happy about this, though; again, a nice change from Santorini, where in the middle of the day you had to edge your way through the crowds, occasionally throwing the discreet elbow.

At some point during our walk, I decided that Husbear was being too stingy with the camera, so I distracted him (probably by saying "Look, that restaurant serves citron!") and commenced thievery.

Somehow, I even managed to get him to pose with me!

(Please excuse the hat hair.  It was HOT.)

Though I thought I was doing a great job with the little camera, Husbear started angling to get it back.

First, he tried saying "please" a lot.  Like THAT ever works!  (Note the giant bottle of water.)

When this didn't work, he moved to intimidation.  (When you look at that shot, please keep in mind I was flipping him off while laughing at the time...)

I finally acquiesced and returned the camera, so Husbear could take pictures of "Naxos."  I figured we had enough closeups of my face for one trip.

We walked through some more tunnels

and stumbled on a church straight out of Tatooine.  (Kind of like the moisture farm on which Luke Skywalker grew up.  Just trust me...)

This was one of the few churches we've seen where girls were actually not allowed in if they were wearing tank tops!  The inside was lovely and blessedly cool... and too dark to photograph.

We were getting a mite peckish at this point, and decided to walk down to the harbor and grab a snack and some ouzo at one of the many ouzeries along the beach.  On the way, we stopped into a tiny shop to grab some wine for later, before dinner.  (Looking back on our honeymoon, I realize we kind of sound like alcoholics... but it was our honeymoon!)

The white wine we bought came in a 1.5 liter ribbed plastic bottle, which I am certain held water directly before its reincarnation as a wine receptacle.  It cost 5 euros, and wasn't half bad.

We spent quite a bit of time in this jammed shop - they were packed to the rafters with local products, from long cinnamon bark to honey, dishes, wine, and obviously lots and lots of baskets.  There were several different kinds of new and aged cheeses, as well.

Being in there only served to whet our appetite further, so we grabbed our purchases and skedaddled down to the beach.

There are many ouzeries lining the beach, and some of them like to display their specialties out front.  I had heard that ouzo with grilled octopus is a really great match, so I was on the lookout.

In retrospect, I probably should have chosen this place for my octopus and ouzo, but I didn't.  The place we ended up was empty (but it was like 5 o'clock, prime not dinner hour) but had extremely persistent touts. 

The octopus was served with skordalia (here, potato-based, with strong garlic flavor) and a lemon chunk.  It was, unfortunately, quite dry and chewy, as I recall.  And the ouzo was a bit much for me - very edgy and sharp, with a robust liquorice flavor.  Husbear was all about the ouzo, but declined the octopus due to his veggie sensibilities.

After I finished my double O snack (octopus?  ouzo?  ha ha?) we dropped our bags back at the hotel and walked over to the Portara, Naxos' definitive landmark.  It's the only chunk left of an enormous temple to Apollo that was built on a little spit of land stretching out into the sea.  (This little island is traditionally regarded as the one Ariadne threw herself off of to get away from Dionysus.)

The view back to Hora from the little peninsula was lovely, with the sunset giving everything a warm pink-orage glow.

We got a nice person to take a picture of us in front of the actual portara.  Locals say the only reason the Venetians didn't take these blocks of marble is that they were too heavy to move.

The Portara also frames the view out to sea, with the sunset behind it.

It's a really distinctive monument, and the residents of Naxos are in my mind totally right to be so proud of it.

It for now (I have to go pack a box or two before we leave!).  Next time - we explore the wider island on a moped named Dionysus, and find a man carved out of a giant piece of rock.

girlie

Fatty's too sexy for his fur

Too sexy for his fur
Too sexxy by FAR.

We took the cats to the vet last week.

"WHAT?  I ain't goin' to no stinkin' vet!"

Yes you are, it's been like four years.  We need to get a handle on the exact nature of your fatness.  And general health.

"No, you can't make me go - I'll jump, I swear it!"

No, you won't.  It'll be a great time!  There will be treats, and fun, and two new big plastic cages for you and Stinky to enjoy!

And, you're going to get your first haircut!  So the both of you will hopefully quit it with the constant hairballs!

"Hmm, intriguing.  I am enormously fuzzy.  And constantly hornking.  And I can't go outside on the porch to lay in a sunbeam without combusting.  Yes, mayhaps I will tolerate this vet.  This time."

Thank Gd.

(close scene)

Since we're leaving in a couple of weeks, it was time to get the cats checked out and fitted with a clean bill of health.  As they were going in anyway, the decision was also made to go ahead and get Fatty a hot new haircut, one that would make all the other kids in the 6th grade jus' jellus.

The vet told us that they often didn't have to anesthetize the cat being groomed, but if the cat couldn't handle the procedure, they would go ahead with knocking it out so the shaving could be done.  "Of course," the technician said, "if we do need to anesthetize, we will want to do bloodwork to make sure your cat can handle being put under.  The bloodwork isn't absolutely necessary, if you don't mind your sweet sweet kitty dying on the table."

Fine, maybe those weren't the exact words - but the threat was clear.

Husbear was able to drop the cats off in the morning just fine, though he did note the odd noises coming from Fatty's cage - sort of a cross between growling and purring.  (growping?)

When the vet called two hours later to tell Husbear that Fatty would have to be anesthetized, he heard the most insane yowling in the background.  "Is that my cat?"  he asked... and, "Yes, that's Fatty," the tech sighed.  "I think we're going to have to go ahead with the anesthesia."

Awww.  And sorry!

When I went to pick the kitties up after work, Fatty was coming out of anesthesia and doing well.  Stinky had apparently made love with his eyes to every vet tech in the place - they were calling him "lovebug."  (Stinky?  Lovebug?)  I mortgaged my first three kids to pay the vet bill, and home we went.

Fatty looked HILARIOUS.  No, funnier than that.  You'll at least need a picture to get an idea of how silly he looked.  Like he shrugged off an enormous coat, but still had on giant wool socks.  Or like he molted.

Plus, Stinky kept hissing at poor Fatty whenever he got too close, since not only did he look totally different, he had also been bathed and thus smelled unlike himself.  Stinky was just losing his mind.

I think Fatty breaking into happy trilling song was the final straw for poor Ninks, as he stomped off into the back room and didn't come out for a couple of hours.

"I look GOOD,"  sings Fatty.

Honestly, he seems really happy - plus, he's so fun to pet now!  I do still giggle when I get a look at him out of the corner of my eye, though.

Lookit the sex-x-y guy!

(In case you were wondering, here's what we learned at the vet: Fatty is thinner than Stinky.  By two pounds, which is a lot when you're a 13 pound cat.  They're both still overweight, though.  Plus, Fatty's blood looks great.  Good to know.)

So - if you want to come over to pet our newly adorable cat (or maybe lavish some pets on Stinky, who is feeling very put upon these days) you have just under three weeks to do so.

(That is the amount of time until we leave the States, by the way - we're leaving Austin on August 6.)

girlie

Mabenka Restaurant, Burbank, IL

We're back from Chicago and Madison!

What, we've been updating so rarely that you had no idea where we had gone and had almost given up on our blog entirely?

Can I entice you with pictures of Polish and Lithuanian delights, with perhaps a cheeseburger thrown in for good measure?

I thought so!  You're so easy.

When I was but a wee lassie, my mom's family used to get together on a fairly regular basis at a Polish/Lithuanian restaurant on the Southwest Side of Chicago, right in the flight path for Midway Airport.  Since my aunt and I had a couple of hours to kill last Friday between the arrival of the plane bearing me and the arrival of the plane of my grandparents (awkward construction, I know, but I don't want to imply that anyone in my family owns a plane), I decided to drag her behind me down Cicero Avenue to said restaurant, Mabenka.

I don't think this place has changed a bit since I started going there in the mid-80s.

Their menu is still book-like, in Polish and English.  Ads for Polish-speaking businesses ("Mowimy po polsku") are included, pages of them, in case you feel like doing some shopping while waiting for your dining companions to decide what type of dumpling they feel like trying.

The decor is still the same as I remember; chairs on rollers, and extra specials besides the weekly ones written up on a dry-erase board.

The blurry arm on the right was new, though.

Each meal can be ordered a la carte or as a full dinner; the full dinner is a yooge amount of food, including salad and soup (a bowl of soup!) and bread and coffee and dessert.  And the heavy Polish or Lithuanian food you initially ordered.

I don't get back to this restaurant often enough to branch out too much on the menu; I ordered the same thing I get every time we go (about once every three years, at this point).

Even the a la carte meal includes bread.

My favorite of these breads has always been the raisin challah, on the right.  The left-hand rye does not have a pronounced enough rye flavor for me, but I do enjoy the dark pumpernickley bread in the middle, which is moister and tastier than other breads of its ilk.

Also with the a la carte meals comes a cup of soup.  (I know, I know - even the "a la carte" is a LOT of food!)  I always work myself into a lather trying to decide between sauerkraut soup and beet soup, so my aunt kindly offered to order one if I'd order the other.

Betchu can't guess which is which!

The sauerkraut soup has a mild pickly flavor with a backbone made of ham, while the borscht has an earthy comforting creamy sweetness.  They actually go really well together.  The sides of baked potato soak up the soup broth especially nicely.

I'm already overcarbloaded, and my lunch hasn't even arrived!

Against my advice and pleading, Auntie ordered a cheeseburger.  I tried to steer her towards sausage-stuffed potato or potato-stuffed sausage, or even potato and sausage dumplings, but nothing doing.  The lady was adamant, I tell you.

Her burger did look good, though.  I think that pickle might even be homemade?

Though she did seem happy with her decision, she didn't rave.

I, of course, with the blood of Poland and Germany and England and Sweden and Norway coursing through my veins, ordered dumplings.  Pierogies, that is.  Two kinds, even - one with "meat" and one with potato and cheese.  You can also get them filled with fruit or just potato or mushroom and sauerkraut.

So, it's probably a good thing I don't have much access to this kind of food in Austin, given that my cholesterol already appears to be higher than it should be.  You have to admire the fancy plating, though!  Crumbled bacon, and little plastic cups of real Wisconsin whipped cream for dipping.

OK, fine - that's actually sour cream.  Party pooper.

Wanna see some innards?

I really enjoyed these, - however, it seemed to me that they were not as perfectly tenderly cooked as usual.  The skins on several of the dumplings were a bit dry, unfortunately.  Still really tasty, though, and they definitely satisfied my Chicago dumpling fixation.  I was really happy to make it back to Mabenka for a meal, and I would tell you to do the same if I knew you were taking a trip to Chicago anytime soon.  Are you?

I have a Laotian meal and a Cambodian meal left to blog... along with family fun and Tommy Bartlett's water show!  (Which was also family fun, but of a cheesier sort.  Have you ever heard the phrase "more ornery than a roomful of beards?"  Well, now you have, courtesy of Tommy Bartlett!)

Mabenka
7844 S. Cicero Avenue
Burbank, IL 60459
(708) 423-7679

girlie

Sugar and Spice, Cambridge Mass

July is a month of travel travel travel TRAVEL this year.

Over the 4th of July weekend, I was lucky enough to be able to take a series of planes to Boston, to visit my good friend Megs.  While there, I whined constantly about Austin's lack of public transportation.  It took me about 30 minutes to acclimate myself to being in a neighborhood/town (Somerville) where it was actually possible to walk to something besides a Shell station.

Megs has settled herself - for the time being - in an area of town with a number of wonderful dining options.  About two blocks from her house is a restaurant called Sugar and Spice, which we hit up for lunch on Saturday.

The exterior of the restuarant is schmancy, yet welcoming in its modernish lines.

We both liked the color scheme inside - a melding of green and purple tiles, which could have looked really 1993 but didn't.

Booths along the window side offered good people watching, but were unfortunately occupied when we arrived just after 2.  (post meridian.  Did you think Boston was the land of the midnight sun, or something?)

What do you do when you get together with good friends from college?  That's right, you get drinks!

We ordered plum wine, and refrained from shotgunning it.  The restaurant did have a nice little beer and wine selection, which looked pretty reasonably priced, but in general I don't go to a Thai restaurant to drink Chardonnay.

The menu pricing was much lower than I would have expected, given the decor and general tenor of the place.

Though the noodly and entree-y... entrees... looked tempting, we decided to stick to the appetizer/soup side of the offerings. 

First, tom yum soup with chicken ($2.95).  (I had to stack it up against Ka-Prow's version.)

This was good, spicy with a pronounced lime flavor.  Honestly, I could have done with less chicken - it distracted me from the tasty brothiness.  Plus, too many mushrooms.  I'm sure if they took these out, people would moan that they only got a cup of broth for $3... whiners.

Megs ordered the veggi dumplings ($4.95) - and yes, it is spelled like that on the menu.

I can't believe I stupidly didn't photograph the innards on these bad boys!  They were really quite good, and filling, too - a fairly thin doughy exterior, with a bit of crunch on the outside from the pan-frying, stuffed with spinach and onions and, well, vegetables.  Their flavor was really mild, so it was good that the sauce they were served with had a bit of a bean-pastey kick.

I chose the oddly named "Simply Surprise" pancake ($4.95).  I suppose it's surprising because you don't know what's in it - unless you craftily read the menu.

This surprise of a pancake came with the ubiquitous Thai sweet/spicy salad/sauce.

Honestly, the pancake was pretty much a hot mess - but hot messes are about my favorite thing to eat, so it was off to a good start.

Now, I know that Thai food is about the balance of sour, sweet, spicy, and salty.  While this dish was quite tasty, the balance was a bit off - it was more sweet than anything else.  The pancake was sweet, the chicken seemed like it might have had palm sugar in it, and the dipping sauce was much more sugary than spicy.  All in all, though, the dish was actually really enjoyable.  Just a little too sweet.  (I think I've made my point.)

So, if I lived in the area I would definitely be back at Sugar and Spice.  Good food, reasonable prices (especially for Boston.)  Our bill for two, plus tax and drinks, was right around $22; a bit on the high side, but we did get wine.  And three dishes.

Sugar and Spice

1933 Massachusetts Avenue (Porter Square)

Cambridge, MA

(617) 868-4200

A bit of housekeeping - we will be up in Madison this weekend celebrating Opa's 90th birthday, so there will likely not be another post until the middle of next week.  Yes, I know we suck.  But yipes, are things busy around here.

girlie

More Summer in the Kitchen

I hate to be a bore with all my constant harping about “oh, summer food is so awesome” “I love all the fresh produce and light, flavorful combinations” and “why is this ridiculous bounty so delicious?”

Yeah, I’m like a broken record. But who gives a crap; it’s all true. So in my continuing saga of scrumptious summeriness, I’m cooking up two easy but awesome dishes: braised artichoke fettuccine and an heirloom tomato salad with blue cheese and celery.

I know, I know only one is technically cooking - aren’t you special.

I started the pasta by peeling down three artichokes until I got down to the tender hearts including most of the stems sans skin. After slicing them into quarter inch segments and giving them a dip is some water acidulated with lemon juice, I dried them off and started to sauté them in some butter and olive oil.

After they started browning up nicely (oh, ten minutes or so), I added some white wine and veggie stock and let the liquid reduce and the artichokes braise for about another twenty minutes.

Meanwhile, I boiled off some yummy fettuccine until it was just shy of al dente. Then I added it in with the ‘chokes with a couple of pinches of red pepper to let it finish cooking through and absorb all the tastiness.

Finish it off with a handful of grated parm and some chopped flat leaf parsley and you’re dealing with some seriously edible eats.

And the salad’s just as easy. I jacked this particular recipe from the August 2003 issue of Bon Appétit.

Basically it’s just sliced tomatoes (whatever type you can get that are freshest and ripest) with crumbled blue cheese and thin sliced red onion, celery,  and scallions. Drizzle the whole mixed up business with some olive oil and salt and pepper and it’s definitely a nice refreshing summer dish.

You can either serve it straight up by itself or pile it up on some grilled bread rubbed with fresh garlic. Either way, I’m pretty sure you’ll find it hard to stop eating.

Happy 4th to all you ‘mericans out there; to every one else I’ll just give a shout out to independence in general. Hope you’re not taking it for granted.

-L. Pants