lollardfish

We're back. We have no luggage. It got to Chicago, but didn't make it out again. The plane was too heavy and they took some off, though they didn't tell us about it.

I feel only slightly worse for the people with frozen fish from their trip to Alaska, all packed and good for "twenty hours." They aren't going to make it.

Let this not read as a collection of maladies and complaints. The sun shines, the air is cold and clear, and the mountains are spectacular. But the gastronomical elements of our vacation have taken something of a turn for the worse. We think we're on the way up now, though.

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Yesterday afternoon, we saw a castle on a hill, an ancient burial site, and ate fouee in a cave. Fouee are little pockets of bread that you can fill with rilette (shredded meat cooked in its own fat for a long time), beans, salad, chevre, and otherwise good things. All these were wonderful, and the girl and I tried not to be annoying and to look at the sparkle on her finger.

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Our journey to France began in the sterile halls of the Minneapolis, and then Chicago, airport, and was accompanied by the hopefully sterile food they serve there. Lousy and expensive, impressive. Since then, things have only been improving, to put it mildly, despite my dealing with a minor head cold.

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Ok, no one is thinking outside the box here. :)

New question.

What are the most interesting snacks you have ever brought, or wish you brought, or heard that someone else brought, on an international flight?

Mmmm. Tomato from garden. Basil from garden. Mozarella from Broders. mmmmmm.

As is so often the case, the New Yorker was a week ahead of everyone else on this Castro thing. They published This article - Castro's Last Battle on 7/24, a little before he gave power to his brother, Raul. They've just put it online. I'd read it if you're interested in Cuba, because it talks about all the various candidates who may replace Castro, and at least some of these names will be important in the next few years.

Sadly, the article about the Maine fisherman (with a Masters degree) who has figured out where the cod used to spawn inland, and received a MacArthur (genius) grant for his work in trying to repair the cod population, is not online.

The girl and I went out to a pleasant, pricey, but mediocre dinner at Cave Vin, the French Bistro up the street. The sparkly rose was tasty and cheap (half-price wine night). The garlic frites and aioli were spectacular (cause fries are good!). The salt-cod croquettes on marinated peppers, golden raisns, pine nuts, and some really fresh olive oil were excellent. Shannon's chicken involtini was fine, but prosaic. The gnocchi and the lemony sauce under the chicken was tangy and good. My lamb on mashed potatoes (they probably called it potato puree) on porcini sauce was cold by the time I got it. I complained. They fixed a new plate of mash and sauce, threw my lamb on the grill, and returned it to me. The lamb was, therefore, twice-cooked, tough, and not at all what I wanted. Also the "french-cutting" was done sloppily, so the bone had little bits of stuff on it. At $23, which is a lot for a Minnesota entree, I was displeased. The creme brulee was half great. The other half was over-brulee'd.

All in all, a fine dinner. I wanted great though, and am feeling picky. But I liked my date, I liked the drink, and I liked the frites a lot. It's clearly a glass of wine and appetizer place, not a dinner place.

I think I'll go to France and see if I can find something better.

Chapter 5 done. Working on syllabus for commodities course:

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Can't sleep. Clowns will eat me.