mad about madison!

photo of Wisconsin State Capital, Madison, taken by Darin ten Bruggencate, courtesy of wikipedia, and licensed by GFDL

"Well, if there's a long wait at the Nepali restaurant, then we could go to the Greek place," so said M as he, D, and I walked up and down State Street in Madison deciding where to eat.

Now that's a sentence you don't often utter when considering places to dine on a remarkably chilly evening. Or any other evening, for that matter.

Lucky for us, there was an open table by the window in the tiny restaurant, and we settled in for our very first Nepali meal at Himal Chuli. Or anywhere else, for that matter. I selected the Roti, Dal, and Takari, and I further chose the Chana Takari with chickpeas, potatoes, and carrots. The food was delicious--utterly familiar and vastly different than any other food I've ever eaten because of the spice and herb combinations binding together favorite foods. A gentle heat underscored the dal and the takari, and the mild soft, buttery bread was a perfect accompaniment.

We headed back out into the cold, in search of a basement bar where D and M could drink Strongbow hard cider and I would sip a Bombay Sapphire G & T as we talked about the conference on Liberal Education that had brought us all together from various corners of the state to the Capital city.

The next afternoon, after attending more sessions and parting ways from new and old friends, I bundled up in an extra layer, slung my messenger bag across my shoulder, and walked up State street to the Capital Square. I made it to Cafe Soleil just before they stopped serving lunch, and enjoyed a Dairyland classic: grilled cheese. This one melded together several artisan cheeses and caramelized onions and thinly sliced tomatoes. I stopped by fromagination on the recommendation of several fellow bloggers, and selected a cheese to bring to Michigan for Thanksgiving, dried cranberries, local chocolate, and local crackers. One more stop: Barriques Coffee Trader, a brilliant coffeeshop cum wine shop, stocked with reasonable bottles of wine and an espresso bar. I purchased a French pinot noir and an Argentinian torrontes. Loaded down, I walked back down State Street, past the hippie shops and fair trade coffee shops, smelling nag champa incense whirling on the air and mingling with a thousand cuisines.

And then it was back to my car and a long drive across the state, past a graceful field of wind turbines and rolling farmland, and back home.

big ship, stormy night

rain. lightning. the sky cracking open in shades of violet, aubergine, and then back to sightless black. the woman with slightly matted fuzzy hair reading a magazine, her mother placidly working sudoku puzzles for hours. a small band of neo-hippies, fresh from rothbury, playing "banana pancakes" on acoustic travel guitars. the rhythmic shuffling of a deck of cards, the scrape of a plastic chair on faux-wood plank decks. rain dripping down the window panes in endless tears. the lingering scent of a half-smoked cigarette from the sole hippie chick in the bunch, who loudly claims innocence and proffers apologies when told this is a non-smoking section of the boat. twin indentations on my inner wrists from the sea bands pressing, pressing out the motion sickness that would otherwise wash over me in undulating waves. outside, the walkways filling with water. trying to keep gordon lightfoot's masterpiece "the wreck of the edmund fitzgerald" out of my mind. sticky from damp, humid air, wanting a hot shower, steaming tea, and an enormous hug before succumbing to sleep tonight, at home, in my plush bed.

soy delicious: smart dogs

So, today when I was in Mil-town with B. we went to Outpost Natural Foods to stock up on some hippie-groceries. While I threw a little fit that the only edamame were from China (c'mon, don't we grow enough soybeans here in the USA?) and refused to buy them, I scooped up a package of Smart Dogs. Now, I usually steer clear of soy-meat-fakery, but there's something about a warm summer day that begs for retro picnic fare.

Since I don't have a grill, I broiled the 'dog, toasted a Natural Ovens 100% Whole Grain bun, added sliced dill pickles and vidalia onions, with a side of Krunchers and vegetarian baked beans, and a glass of Crios Torrontes, and tasted SUMMER. I am constantly amazed at the power of foods to speak of season or place or memory.

beach weekend

Memorial Day weekend my family and I convened in Florida for a mini-vacation, a time to reconnect with each other after a long, busy winter. As glorious sunshine and heat streamed down and the wind swept the gulf into undulating ruffles of water, we chatted, laughed, golfed, ate, walked, wandered, and cried.

A few favorite moments:

1. Attempting to play nerf football on the beach with wind blowing the light-weight, aerodynamic toy off course. Mom and I stayed safely on the shore while Dad and L. manned the water line.




2. Sitting at the beach bar at the Don Cesar, a luxurious, storied, PINK hotel in St. Pete Beach. L. enjoyed a wheat beer, Dad a crown on the rocks, Mom a lemon sipper, and I delighted in a Florida freeze, a minty, limey, slushy, boozy confection. We watched a plane fly across the ocean, dragging a sign congratulating Terry on her Sweet 16, and we overheard the squeals of delight over the pulsating beat of Usher from the aforementioned birthday soiree at the other end of the hotel.




3. Some utter silliness in the car with Mom, involving food related mishaps.

4. An afternoon in Safety Harbor, where we parked under the shade of the Banahoff Live Oak, a towering beauty of 300-500 years age, romantically draped in Spanish Moss. We also enjoyed a lovely visit with Lois, the proprietress of Safety Harbor Antiques and Collectibles, SHAC, and "docent" of S.H.A.C.'s five cent tour of the town, given via a hand-drawn "ladies map" (all context and landmarks and no directions) and a pink highlighter. She gave us a thorough yet brief history of the town and highlighted points of historical, artistic, and quirky interest. She's delightful, and I would go back to Safety Harbor just to see her and the famous tree.