Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

What Were They Thinking?
    — Serving Suggestion #2

“What Were They Thinking?” highlights products and presentations which just don’t make sense.

Yum, that soup looks tasty.  Pity the recipe is for a completely different soup, something with peas and rice rather than carrots and noodles.

(I eventually found and made the carrots and noodles version.  The Thanksgiving turkey carcass kept me in soup for weeks.  Was tasty.)

Friday, February 8, 2013

What Were They Thinking?
    — Serving Suggestion

“What Were They Thinking?” highlights products and presentations which just don’t make sense.

Dear Safeway Select,

This looks like a fabulous product.  Just one question: what meat is that on the label?  Did you just add chicken, or did you just add shrimp?

Insincerely,
A hungry customer

 

Thursday, May 31, 2012

What Were They Thinking?
    — My Snacks Are Better Than Yours!

“What Were They Thinking?” highlights products and presentations which just don’t make sense.

The mind boggles.  Who the Hell tested marketed the name for these?

If you don’t know the meaning of the word “jingoism”, start reading.

Something new for SOSAD (Strangely Orange Snack Appreciation Day / June 21), I guess.  But I don’t think I could stomach (ha!) paying for something with this sort of a name.

What Were They Thinking?
    — Mmm, Crunchy!

“What Were They Thinking?” highlights products and presentations which just don’t make sense.

Could there be a worse name for a brand of cereal?

(Maybe something implying you are eating body parts or insects, I guess.   “Mmm, more Choco Slugs, please!  Just add milk and they make their own slime!”)

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Dream Journal: September 27, 2011


I slept really lousy on the night after returning from Folsom Street Fair.  Every time I woke up from this dream, I kept sinking back into it:
For whatever reason — dream logic doesn’t requires these things be explained or even make sense — I sat bare-assed on a chocolate frosted cake.  I then proceeded to clean it up by scooping big fingerfuls off my ass and licking the brown frosting off my fingers.  (Yeah, so it looked like that.)

At the same time, my father videotaped this.  He then posted the video to YouTube, under the name “kbd hong” (so I guess I was Chinese in the dream), with the title “Look what I did on my honeymoon!” (but I wasn’t even married in the dream).  The video immediately scored 80,000 views, and soon thereafter broke 300,000 views, and then got featured on Fox News.

My father refused to take it down from YouTube, so I sued them, and I sued him for both defamation of character and for damages (including the money made from page views and ads that came from YouTube).  And I had to deal with a media circus, and repeatedly send cease & desist letters and sue people for reposting and remixing the video.

Worst was the mashup of the video with the song “Chocolate Rain”.
I think I’ll blame this on the Reuben sandwich I had for dinner last night.

Let me revise the intro to this: I didn’t sleep lousy.  I slept crappy.
 

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Jiffy is the Worst Peanut Butter… Right?  Right?  Um, Maybe.


At some point, years ago, the message filtered into my brain that “Jif peanut butter is bad for you because it contains more sugar, added to make it more attractive to kids.”  Like most such social messaging (see “Coors is anti-gay”, etc.), once this made it into my consciousness, I accepted it as truth without every questioning it.

And yet, I continued to buy and consume Jif in preference to Skippy or other national brands.  Every couple years, I try something else — be it Skippy, or one which needs to be stirred (and thus sloshes half the peanut oil out of the jar onto the floor, leading to inconsistent consistency over the life of the jar), or chocolate hazelnut Nutella — and every time, I come back to Jif.

Recently, buying a new jar, I remember this “truth” and decided to look at the nutrition labels:
  • For Jif — Serving size: 2 tablespoons.  (About what you actually use for a sandwich.  You know that isn’t always the case with serving size values.)  Calories: 190.  (Mmm, that seems high, in this era of 100 calorie sized snacks.)  Calories from fat: 130.
     
  • For Skippy — Serving size: 2 tablespoons.  Calories: 190.  Calories from fat: 140.  (Interesting.)
     
  • For Adams (which needs to be hand-stirred) — Serving size: 2 tablespoons.  Calories: 210.  (What?!)  Calories from fat: 150.  (What?!)
     
  • For O Organics (Safeway brand) — Serving size: 2 tablespoons.  Calories: 200.  Calories from fat: unclear, but has higher saturated fat amount than Jif/Skippy, so figure at least the same as Skippy.
Isn’t that interesting: same calorie count for both Jif and Skippy, and both are lower than the presumed “better for you” Adams and O Organics brands.  Also, Jif is higher than Skippy in Vitamin E and Riboflavin; there is no listing of those for Adams and O Organics (could be they just don’t list such, could be that they are additives in Jif and Skippy).

Jif actually has lower from-fat calories, which certainly could map into higher from-sugar calories (the difference has to come from somewhere, after all), which means that the data portion of the “sugar message” from years ago may be technically true.  But that then raises other questions: is it worse for the sugar calories to be higher, or the fat calories to be higher?  If the “better” peanut butters are 5-10% higher in calories, are they actually better?

Of note as well, this website rates brands based on issues such as trans fats, water usage, and community support.  It tags both Jif and Skippy very low due to trans fat inclusion, but the brand’s websites indicate no trans fats in their peanut butter products, so the website info is a few years out of date.  (Many companies removed trans fats a few years ago.)

In the end, my limited research is inconclusive.  There is no clarity that one brand is notably better than another in terms of nutrition — a little higher here, a little lower there — which leads back to the only thing that really counts, taste preference.

I admit that I’m probably going to try the almond butter at some point, and maybe non-chocolated hazelnut butter (if such exists), but in the end, I know what I’ll come back to: “Choosy Jims choose Jif.”
 

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

What Were They Thinking?
    — Mexico, Peru, What’s the Difference?


“What Were They Thinking?” highlights products and presentations which just don’t make sense.

Encountered this Mexican restaurant in Richland, WA.  It is part of a small chain in Eastern Washington.  Here is their website.  (Warning: Flash-based, plays loud music, and features dancing animated chilis — very obnoxious.)

I wonder at what point someone said “I don’t care that the Aztecs were in Mexico and the Incas were in Peru, 2500 miles away.  I don’t care that Mexican cuisine is different from Peruvian cuisine.”
 

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

What Were They Thinking?
    — Dingleberries


“What Were They Thinking?” highlights products and presentations which just don’t make sense.

Holy crap (literally!), what were they thinking to name a product “dingleberry”?  I doubt I could order it without snickering.

This company sells chocolate-dipped berries at Safeco Field for Seattle Mariners games.  As an added curiosity, “shishkberry” is the nickname for a strain of pot.

I’m not even gonna comment on what sort of sex toys the stacked coated berries look like.
 

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Snackies


Found this at Safeway last night.

I guess that's one way to bypass any trademark issues!
 

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Best Inflatable Ad Ever


The seafood restaurant Jake’s in downtown Portland (near Powell’s Books) had this huge inflatable King Crab on its roof this past weekend.

Totally fucking cool!
 

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Is This Better When I’m Not Listening?


To date, there have only been three country songs that I actively despise.  (These would be “hit” songs, of course, ones with enough radio airplay to boost them from “I don’t like this but won’t likely hear it again” to “God, I hate this, change the station!  Make it stop!”)

Those would be:
But they are now joined by a fourth, currently #1 on the Billboard Country charts, Blake Shelton’s “Who Are You When I’m Not Looking?” (also heard on Joe Nichols’ album from 2007, but not released as a single then — probably for good reason!).  Check out these first-verse lyrics:
My oh my, you’re so good-looking
Hold yourself together like a pair of bookends
But I’ve not tasted all your cooking
Who are you when I’m not looking?
Gack.  Make it stop.  Banal.  Insipid.  Lyrics that don’t add up to anything.  The second line doesn’t even rhyme.  (And I’m generally forgiving more forgiving about whether or not something rhymes when it is sung.)

No one has tasted all of my cooking, hon, not even me!  I keep making new stuff.  That pan-fried tilapia with paprika and bacon fat last night was nummy.
 

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

What Were They Thinking?
    — This Sign Placed by the Department of Obviousness


“What Were They Thinking?” highlights products and presentations which just don’t make sense.

There is a Safeway in the Mission/Potrero area of San Francisco which has a dedicated nut counter (or had one, when this photo was taken in October 2008).

Unquestionably, one of the stupidest signs ever.
 

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Book Review
    — Medium Raw by Anthony Bourdain


I finally finished Anthony Bourdain’s latest collection of essays (I bought it this summer and read it in chunks, a perfectly suitable thing to do with a book of essays), Medium Raw: A Bloody Valentine to the World of Food and the People Who Cook, but I cannot recommend it… to anyone who has not read his other books.

I don’t know how/where I first encountered Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly.  Saw it recommend by someone I respect on some website, probably.  But I bought it and thoroughly enjoyed the stories of his early career, his up and downs, and his personality conflicts.  In Kitchen Confidential, Borurdain painted a vivid picture of a career path which I was interested in but had no interest in getting into.

When his biography of Typhoid Mary: An Urban Historical came out, I snapped it up and devoured it quickly.  A lot of people who know Bourdain’s work don’t even seem to know it exists, which is a shame.  It’s a great look into households and cooking practices from a century ago which should make people today absolutely twitch, wondering how we survived.  (On the flip side, a lot of people claim that the modern rise in allergies is a result of “too much” cleanliness and such in our food preparation, that we are bringing it on ourselves by not being exposed to things which would help build immunities.  “A little dirt never hurt anyone.”)

His third book (might be his second; Wikipedia lists it before Typhoid Mary), A Cook’s Tour: In Search of the Perfect Meal, was fascinating, combining a travelogue with an examination of exotic meals and delicacies.  (“Delicacy”: a word that means weird-ass food that not even the locals eat/enjoy very much.)  His focus on stuff like Vietnamese phở and a Portuguese farm using the entire slaughtered pig were fascinating and really encouraged me to try stuff previously outside my comfort zone, such as tendon and the like in my phở .  (But I’ll still say no to cobra heart, thanks.)

(As an aside, I do the bulk of my pleasure reading in one of three places/times: with a meal, including dining out by myself; in bed just before going to sleep; and on a plane.  Do not — I repeat, do not — read Bourdain’s essays about food in Kitchen Confidential or especially in A Cook’s Tour while you are eating a meal.  I don’t care what you are eating, the stuff he is describing will either sound so fantastic that what you are eating will become depressingly plain, or else it will sound so gross that you’ll lose your appetite.)

Which finally brings us to Medium Raw, and why I can’t recommend it as a first taste of Bourdain.

The essays in this book are mostly focused on three things:
  • Specific chefs Bourdain knows, many of whom are big names in the world of high class cookery, especially in New York
     
  • Specific restaurants Bourdain enjoys (or fails to enjoy), many of which are big names in the world of high class cookery, especially in New York
     
  • Follow ups from or tangents off his pieces in earlier books
In other words, if you don’t know (aren’t able to recognize) the chefs and restaurants that Bourdain name drops — or at the least, if you aren’t apt to travel to New York or Europe and patronize high-end dining establishments — and if you haven’t read his earlier works (and probably haven’t read them recently, to boot), this isn’t a book for you.  Do not choose this as your entry to Bourdain; you might as well start reading Harry Potter midway through book #7 and hope to follow things.

Myself, I don’t know these names or these restaurants, and I’m not going to travel to where they are or frequent them if I should, and it’s been probably 8 years since I read Kitchen Confidential.  Having read others of his book, I knew what I was getting with Bourdain: as mentioned before, I’m getting a view into a career and a lifestyle which I am interested in but which I have no interest in getting into.  There are probably relatively few career/lifestyles where, as Bourdain describes it, people from all walks of life, given the right choices and breaks, could genuinely ascend to a high level of skill, fame, and renown; that concept makes this book, if not fascinating, at least intriguing, and forgives the relative impenetrability of this piece.

Do pick up one of Bourdain’s books.  Just not this one, not as your first taste of him.

(Perusing his Wikipedia entry, I see there are two other essay collections I've missed: The Nasty Bits: Collected Varietal Cuts, Usable Trim, Scraps, and Bones [2006] and No Reservations: Around the World on an Empty Stomach [2007].  Must get.)
 

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Lemon Meringue Pie



Haven’t made one in a couple years.  Crust didn’t roll out very well, so no pretty fluting on the edges, but who cares so long as it tastes yummy!

And it does.
 

Monday, October 25, 2010

What Were They Thinking?
    — The Challenge is Figuring Out the Challenge


“What Were They Thinking?” highlights products and presentations which just don’t make sense.

This banner showed up at the Cuff Complex recently, advertising the German beer Bitburger now being stocked by the bar.  I’ve tried it, and it’s okay, but I'll stick with (darker) local favorites like Mac & Jack’s and Manny’s and Red Hook.

The banner advertises the “Bitburger Challenge”.  Which is… what?  Based on the banner, it would appear to be drinking Bitburger.  Maybe the challenge is drinking it on ice, or drinking three bottles of it?  Gee, makes it sound foul.  (Is it like Jägermeister, a liquor apparently so nasty tasting that they used to advertise it with guys making horrible faces from drinking it?)

A web search doesn’t reveal anything about the “challenge”, either.  The challenge of being a top three brand in Germany.  A Facebook page with two posts on it and no descriptive content.  A no-name web forum which has a link to a video of a guy being urged to drink a huge stein of beer.

A more refined search finally showed this page, which refers to people trying to drink an entire mini-keg (looks like it holds about a gallon).  Is that it?

Maybe the challenge is to figure out the challenge?
 

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Food Review: KFC’s Double Down


You remember the Double Down: the carb-free super-protein all-meat sandwich from KFC, bacon and cheese between two slabs of chicken, no bun.  (Okay, you’d need the grilled version rather than the breaded one to get close to carb-free.)  Lots of news coverage and controversy when it came out, including use of the phrase “suicide cuisine”.

But have you actually eaten one?  I have.  Visited a KFC in Centralia on a trip to Portland in July.  Sought it out specifically instead of other less-than-fine dining options.

The first bite was far more peppery than I expected, from the spices in the breading.

The next couple bites were very tasty, but I found the sandwich a bit unwieldy to eat while driving the car.  The slabs of chicken don’t compress like a bun does, so getting my mouth around it was a challenge.  (Insert NSFW comment here about me getting my mouth around big pieces of meat.)

By the time I was 2/3 done with the sandwich, though, I was over it.  Too much meat, or at least too much intensity of the meat.  I’ve found this before with other bigger-size fast food; when I got to the last couple bites of that Wendy’s Double, I was no longer thrilled with the sandwich and I more “finished” it than “ate” it.  (This probably means that I’m safe from overdoing it on fast food.)

End Result: the Double Down is a very tasty sandwich, but it is big and intense.  You would probably be better off splitting it between two people; both would enjoy it and both would enjoy it more.
 

Monday, August 16, 2010

Trip Report: VanQueerDanceDay and Vancouver Pride (July 30–August 1)


Before the Weekend


Several years ago, a couple guys from Vancouver, BC who were visiting Seattle asked me and a friend, “Where do guys from Seattle go when they want to get laid?”  We looked at each other and replied, “Vancouver.”  Not that Vancouver is any more a hotbed of sexy men than Seattle, just that “fresh meat syndrome” is true — a new face in town draws attention.

Vancouver is a 3+ hour drive north, and you have to have a passport or enhanced driver’s license to cross the border.  I get up there a few times a year, especially for Rubbout in April, but I’ve also been up for their Pride celebration a couple times in the past, once to march with their Leather contingent and once just to go.  I’ve also been there several times for New Year’s, just to not be at home at the usual local bar.

This year as well, Not So Strictly Ballroom was hosting VanQueerDanceDay, a day of same-sex ballroom, Latin, and country workshops, competitions, and dancing.  They invited me to come up to teach Country Two-Step.  Initially, Rusty was going to come up as well, and we were going to compete, but he ended up not able to go.  Klint was going up, though, so the two of us decided to compete — mostly just for fun, but also to support the event and get some experience under our belts.  (Our only real rule was to not embarrass ourselves.)  We got together a couple days before and practiced the various dances on my concrete parking area and called it ready (or ready enough).

Lining up a hotel was very difficult.  A week out, there was nothing reasonable available, and not even anything lightly unreasonable.  That is: nothing in the downtown core under close to $300 per night!  (You can usually get something around $100 at other times.)  I checked various sites and individual hotels, but nothing.  No availability at all.  But I also knew this was a lie: stuff was locked up with reservations which would cancel and other blocks which would free up if they didn’t fill.  Sure enough, by Wednesday, stuff was starting to show at about $200 a night (lightly unreasonable).  I had hopes that stuff would continue to drop, but by Friday morning, I was forced to go with the Best Western Chateau Granville (2 blocks from the dance studio, which was great) at what ended up being $225 per night including tax and parking.  With Klint sharing with me, doable if not nice.

The Trip Up


I rode my Kymco People S scooter up.  I’ve been looking forward to doing a long road trip on it again for some time.  (I had to pass up two trips on it to Portland this summer because it needed some significant maintenance — air filter, belt and rollers, rear tire, etc., not unexpected at 12,000 miles — that had it in the shop on and off for a few weeks.)  I did the ride to Vancouver for Pride on it two years ago, and last year rode to Bellingham for Pride, about 2/3 as far, so this wasn’t a new trip.  (And of course while I was dating Cliff, I took several trips on it to Stanwood, halfway to Bellingham.)

Two years ago, when I had only been riding 3 months and wanted to avoid the highway as much as possible, I had taken Lake City Way around the top of Lake Washington, then Highway 9 through Lake Stevens to Arlington, then Pioneer Highway through Stanwood (right past Cliff’s house, before I knew him) to Burlington, and Chuckanut Drive to Bellingham, with my only significant highway time being once I got into Canada.  That ride took 5 hours.

(Many people are stunned that I could or even would ride the scooter all the way.  The biggest thing is that they don’t realize that mine will go highway speeds, cruising along between 55 and 65 comfortably, barring hills or wind.  I just stay in the rightmost lane most of the time, since I’m going slower than most traffic but still at legal speeds.)

This trip, I did the highway all the way to Burlington (about 70 miles, stopped for gas in Marysville), then Chuckanut Drive through Bow-Edison and along the coast (I don’t want to do the Chuckanut Mountains pass, since I would slow down to sub-highway speeds there), and then up to the Lynden/Langley crossing (where I only had to wait for 1 or 2 cars).

(Somewhere on Chuckanut Drive, I took off my clip-on sunglasses and in the process, popped out one of the lenses and voomp, it was gone.  Toss those.  I also had a can of energy beverage in my pocket which wasn’t there when I got gas in Marysville; I hope it dropped out when I stopped before getting to the highway back in Seattle, rather than flying out at speed and maybe hitting another vehicle!  I also have a volume booster device that goes between my iPhone and my helmet speakers, to make the sound more audible, but it wasn’t working and was in fact working in reverse, bringing the volume down!  So I couldn’t use it on this trip.)

Once across the border, I made a mistake: rather than go to Highway 1, I decided to take 1A, the Fraser Highway, which eventually turns into Kingsway between Burnaby and Vancouver.  This is like taking Highway 99 through Seattle — fine on the viaduct, but then you end up on Aurora for miles of lights and 30 mph zones.  (Or like driving El Camino Real the whole length of the San Francisco peninsula.)  So what would have been about a 4-hour trip ended up a bit close to 5.5 hours.  I found that after about the 4.5 hour mark, my lower back started bothering me, probably due to the lack of support; at every light, I was standing up while stopped, dancing my feet around, stiff and sore.

But I eventually made it fine.  In the end, I’m not really sorry I took that route.  I had the time available and saw parts of the Vancouver metro area I never have before (although Cliff and I had hit some of the Burnaby thrift stores on a previous trip, so I recognized some parts), but I usually just want to get where I’m going (and repeated stop lights aren’t a lot of fun).  So while I’m likely to do Pioneer Highway and Farm Road near Stanwood again some day, Fraser Highway and Kingsway aren’t apt to get another visit to just ride them.

Friday Night


Friday night was the Vancouver Men in Leather Social at the “Leather Loft” at Numbers.  (That’s the name of the upstairs space on this leather night only.)  Usually, this would be on the 2nd Friday, but they did an extra one for Pride (or rather, moved the August one up a couple weeks).  Good big crowd, but I’ve only been there for the Rubbout ones in April, which is another special event, so I don’t know how it compares to a regular on.

The center of Davie Street was blocked off for a street party — beer and people and stage acts, I guess — which had traffic snarled all over the West End and had Davie way crowded.  After the Social, I went over to the PumpJack Pub, but there was easily 100 people in line at 10:45, so I gave up rather than wait for what could be an hour or more.

Went back to the hotel, and then to M2M to get laid.  I was apparently stiff or tense from the ride up though, so I didn’t have quite as much fun as I would have liked.

VanQueerDanceDay


Not So Strictly Ballroom, one of the GLBTQ dance groups in Vancouver (Vancouver Timberline Dance Society is the country-western one) hosted the VanQueerDanceDay on the day before Pride.  This was a morning of dance workshops, an afternoon of dance competitions, and an evening of awards and dance entertainment and open dancing.

Next year, this same weekend, Vancouver will host the North America OutGames (which happens on the two-year interval between the World OutGames), and DanceSport (which includes ballroom, Latin, and country) will be one of the 20 competitions being done.  So VanQueerDanceDay partly serves as a lead-in to the 2011 competition.

The morning workshops were Argentine Tango (which I skipped; needed the extra 30 minutes of sleep!), Country Two-Step (which I taught, with Klint’s help), and Salsa (which as a group lesson, merged into Casino Rueda, which is a “called” form of Cuban salsa — like square dancing, more or less).  I had probably 15 or 20 couples in the lesson.  Started with absolute beginner, then into beginner, and then into something more intermediate, to hopefully provide value for everyone attending.  We seemed to have some of each set.

During the lunch break, we got hot dogs from a vendor between the dance studio and the hotel, and Klint and I decided on what shirts to use (we had brought several), and I tried to nap.  Maybe got 20 minutes, tops.  (The fancy hot dog I got was wrapped in bacon; we referred to it as “uncut”.)

For the competitions, there was little actual competition.  Only about 6-8 couples total — Kirstin and Carol were also up from Seattle — mostly in either separate divisions (Newcomer [first time] vs. Intermediate) or in different dances.  So we competed to the same song/at the same time as Kirstin and Carol, but in a different division.  We did have another couple to compete against in West Coast Swing, and there was a trio of dances for ballroom which had two couples competing, but all others were one-offs.  Klint and I competed in Night Club, Jive (double-rhythm East Coast Swing), West Coast Swing, Country Two-Step, and Shadow.

After the competitions, we rode my scooter up Davie to go to Little Sisters bookstore, Priape (the leather and underwear store), and I got a beer at the PumpJack.  I cam back to the hotel for another try at a nap, and Klint hung out with some of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence who were up from Seattle.  For dinner on the way back to the studio, I had a piece of pizza.  (Ooh, excitement.)

After dinner, in and around some open dancing, were three line dance competitions: D.H.S.S., MMMBop, and Chill Factor.  (All three non-country, I notice.)  The four of us from Seattle did the first one, then Klint and I and Todd from Vancouver for the second, and Marek joined the three of us for the last.

The awards were Mardi Gras beads with gold/silver/bronze stars attached to them.  Cheap and blingy, but just fine for this sort of a low-key competition.  Klint and I won all five of our couples dances, including the West Coast Swing.  I took gold in D.H.S.S. and silver in the other two line dances.

Our primary goal for the competition were to get a little experience at competing under our belts — I’ve done line dance comps for many years, but no couples comps in over a decade and even then just a couple Jack & Jill/Pat & Chris competitions (where you get paired with another dancer pretty much at random).  Secondary was to not look bad — that’s why we didn’t do Waltz; we knew that even if it was country, it would be too slow for what we are used to.  We also want to be able to take the experience back to Seattle and encourage people to compete at the OutGames next year, and then when we host the IAGLCWDC competition in 2013 in Seattle.

(Okay, we might have looked bad during the Jive competition, when a table-top move resulted in me head-butting Klint in the stomach and knocking off my glasses.  I left the glasses off for competitions after that.)

Overall, I was very impressed by the event.  It was fairly simply put together and Michel moved things along well (except for the brief power failure when we tripped a breaker in the middle of one of the line dances).  We’re talking about doing a similar one-day event in Seattle after next year’s hoedown, to push competition at the OutGames.  We should be able to do that pretty easy, I think.

Saturday Night


Dinner had been just that single piece of pizza on the way to the dance, so I supplemented with poutine at Megabite Pizza on the way back to the hotel.  The poutine from the Frites place on Davie near Gravnille is better.

The PumpJack has last Saturday leather nights (well, sort of — “we hope you’ll wear leather, but you don’t have to” nights), with line privileges for guys in leather (because there is always a Saturday line, so you get to jump to the front).  Line privileges last until 10:00 usually, 10:30 this weekend, so I tried to get there in time.  Alas, Davie Street was still blocked to traffic (no street party, though), so I had to park several blocks away and didn’t quite make it.  But I was still close to the front of the line and waited only 5-10 minutes.

Curiously, almost as soon as I got my beer, they closed the back patio (at 11:00, I guess).  Not sure why, maybe for noise reasons or maybe it’s harder to police when it’s dark.  Good crowd inside, though, and it turned out my ex Cliff (and his new boyfriend, Rob) were up for the weekend.  I’m sociable with them, but I’m definitely finding that the breakup still hurts when I see them together, so I sort of avoided them (that is, didn't spend much time hanging near them).

After three beers, I headed out, back to the hotel and then to M2M again.  Had a better time tonight, ride-up tension and dance competition stress were gone.

Pride Sunday


As noted above, I’ve attended Vancouver Pride twice before.  About 6 years ago, Rusty and I marched with the leather contingent.  I confess that I don’t really remember much about that year; it must have been okay but not particularly notable.  Two years ago, I just watched the parade from somewhere on Denman, a little past the halfway point.  Watching the parade, of course, gives you a view of only a tiny slice of the attendance; in comparison, of course, being in the parade gives you only a tiny view of the parade, no more than a handful of groups.

This year, there were apparently two leather contignents.  Knights of Mantra (previously known as Knights of Malta; link is for the Seattle chapter, since the Vancouver chapter’s site is dead) was the color guard, carrying the flags immediately after the Dykes on Bikes.  They sent an oddly worded invite to Seattle Men in Leather, inviting us to march with them (and for our President to possibly carry the US flag); oddly worded in that it seemed to have a slap at Vancouver Men in Leather as part of the invite.  The other contingent was a flatbed truck from the pansexual club Metro Vancouver Kink, with Vancouver Men in Leather and others marching along with them (including the current Washington State Mr. Leather and the crew from Rubbout, probably 10-12 leatherguys in total).

The parade started at 12:00 noon, although we didn’t step off until probably 1:00 pm; we we’re somewhere in the middle third of the groups.  Not So Strictly Ballroom also had a contingent, and Klint marched with them; they were in the latter third of the parade.

In the past, many parades have required vehicle wheel monitors for each vehicle in a contingent, something that has always seemed a little odd, given distances from the vehicles to the parade watchers.  No longer odd after this parade.  The first couple blocks on Robson was through a crowd of primarily Asian attendees.  Thousands and thousands of them, with no respect for staying away from the vehicles.  The gay attendees usually cluster on the sidewalk, sometimes crowded there or standing several deep, but these attendees came clear off the sidewalk, past the parking lane, and crammed into the first driving lane on each side of the street, leaving only a single lane for the truck and marchers to come through.  Wheel monitors were very necessary here, to corral the people back so they literally didn’t get run over!

After we were through that gantlet, things largely settled down to a usual placement of people, thankfully.  But I was very impressed by the number of attendees.  The route (Robson/Denman/Beach) felt twice as long as the Seattle parade route (but was really only 10% longer — I mapped on Google; I can’t say how far we traveled to the technical start of the route, though vs. the Seattle parade’s leather contingent’s path).  The number of people on either side, while it did fall off noticeably toward the end, appeared to be 3 to 5 people deep on both sides for most of the route, and was still a solid wall of people all the way to the end.  The official numbers said about 600,000 for Vancouver and 400,000 for Seattle, I think, but Vancouver felt much denser, at least three times the size of Seattle’s parade attendance.

After the parade, I wandered the festival booths and got some food (roasted corn! Carribean meat pies! mini donuts!).  Because I had got a blister on my heel the previous day, I had managed to buy a pair of cheap rubber sandals on Friday afternoon, which I wore the entire route.  I had my boots with me, and carried them over my shoulder with the laces tied together, but finally got a red shopping bag from Air Canada which made toting them a lot easier.

Eventually headed back up to the Davie Village, where I waited in line at the PumpJack for about half an hour and had a beer.  Said some goodbyes and trekked back to the scooter.  The parade route is U-shaped, so while I had walked a couple miles during the route and then back to Davie, my scooter parked at the front of the parade route was only about 6 blocks away.

On the way back to the scooter, I realized that Vancouver meters run on Sundays as well as other days.  When I parked, I was between two other cars, not in a clear meter space.  When I got back, both cars were gone, leaving my scooter by itself in the parking spaces, but for whatever reason, I had escaped any parking tickets.  Whew!

The Trip Back


Riding back was more straightforward.  I picked up my stuff at the hotel and left at about 5:45 pm.  (So that Klint and I could ride to the parade start, and store the helmets in the scooter, I had checked a bag of my stuff at the hotel, and stashed an additional bag in Klint’s car — the stuff I knew I wouldn't need for a few days until I got it back from him.)  I left an hour later than I wanted, so the heat of the day was already starting to fade.

I took Highway 1 out to Langley, where the Greater Vancouver Zoo is.  (I always wonder how much business they get, 45 minutes outside the downtown core, in the midst of wineries and farms.)  Saw a little coyote in the grass near the road on the way from the highway to the border; you never notice things like that in a car.

After crossing the border, I pulled off to get an extra layer on under my coat, since it was still cooling down.  I also had a touch of sunburn which was probably also making my temperature fluctuate.

Stopped in Bellingham for coffee and a snack, taking 20 minutes to sit and relax a bit.  Got gas, then went through Bellingham city streets to the north end of Chuckanut Drive; the highway to Fairhaven would have been a quicker route, but I wasn’t sure of where to go to get there.

I intended to stop for gas in Burlinton/Mt. Vernon, but missed the exit, so I ended up going all the way to Smokey Point, where I also had a hamburger at Five Guys; again, a 20-minute sit-down break.  After dinner, even though it had gotten a little warmer as I got away from the Sound, I added a leather vest under my coat, since the sun was down now.

Stopped again for gas at Northgate.  Stupid pump design would only give me one gallon (my tank holds 1.5+ gallons).  I’m concerned that my gas mileage — it dropped a lot in April/May/June and prompted the maintenance session at the scooter place — had popped back up but now seems to have dropped back down to right at 60 mpg.  I’ll have to monitor this, but there may be more work needing to be done.  Or it may just be an aging scooter thing.

Stopped in at the Cuff for a beer before heading fully home.  Got to the Cuff at about 10:15, so 4.5 hours since I left Vancouver.  If I hadn’t had the length of the two stops and the city streets jaunt in Bellingham, it would have been right around 4 hours, or about 45 minutes longer than the trip would have been in the car.  That’s reasonable for the scooter, I think.

After


Monday at work, I had a massive leg cramp that lasted a good 15 minutes and almost had me crying.  I’ve also had sore feet and calves for several days.  I think the latter are from all the walking on Sunday, in the rubber sandals (with no arch support), but the former may be from the long riding.  I’ll have to watch for that.  (A couple weeks later, no further instances of the cramp.)

This coming weekend, Rain Country is again supporting the Alder Street Hoedown in Portland.  I wanted to ride down for Portland Pride and for the mid-July ASH dance, but the scooter was in the shop.  I’m right now not going to the August 21 dance, so this ride will be it.  Weather looks possibly rainy in Seattle but sunny in Portland for the weekend, so we’ll see.

This will be my first long ride to Portland.  Portland is about 170 miles, a bit longer than Vancouver at 150, but with no border crossing, it should be about the same trip length on the scooter, 4 hours.  I have to study my route and find the right roads to take to bypass the plateau for Olympia, and plot out my gas stops, but it shouldn’t be too hard.  Looking forward to it!— Stay tuned for a trip report.
 

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

What Were They Thinking?
    — Cardboard Cutout Donuts


“What Were They Thinking?” highlights products and presentations which just don’t make sense.

A handful of storefronts for this old school donut and coffee shop chain survive in the Seattle area, along with a few signs which no longer go with active businesses.  (There is one such sign near where I live — the business is now a laundromat, I think — and I pass by it a few times a week.)

I have no idea if their donuts and coffee are any good.  I only know that neither the logo — are those donuts or CDs? — nor the business name inspires me to stop in and find out.

Gotta be in the running for Worst Logo Ever, especially since it’s for a full chain, not just a one-off thing.

(Swiped the photo from someone's Flickr stream, because summer tree growth prevent me from getting as clear a pic of the sign near where I live.)
 

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Eggs Benedict


Doesn’t that look yummy?

It sure was.

And it turned out to be awfully easy.  I’ve tried a few egg-poaching gadgets over the years, but none have worked very well.  (Anyone ever try one of those microwave egg poachers?  What an explosive disaster that was!)  But I picked up a pair of poachpods a couple weeks ago and presto, they just work.  I can now make my own Eggs Benedict whenever I want.  (Okay, I’m using Hollandaise from a mix at this point.  I’ll tackle that for real someday soon.)

Which means now I get to experiment.  I’ve already done them with pepper bacon rather than Canadian bacon, but how about replacing the English muffins with artichoke bottoms like California Kitchen in San Mateo used to do, or pepper grits like Cape Fear CafĂ© in Duncan Mills did?  (Alas, the first of those is long gone, and Bennies are no longer on the menu of the second.)  How about spicing the inside of the poachpod, maybe with some chili sauce?  Mmm.

Oh yeah, the potatoes were easy, too.  Peel, season, fry in bacon grease, cover and let cook down while doing the Bennies, add catsup.  Nom nom nom.
 

Friday, March 26, 2010

World’s Biggest Game of Pick Up Sticks



Or how to waste half a pound of spaghetti by dumping it all over the floor.