Anomalous Data - Food and drink

Attention Pcomeau!

Teresa Lhotka — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 02:28:42 GMT

Here is the information for that Ethiopean place i told you about:

Fasika

501 N Snelling Ave St. Paul, MN 55104

(651) 646-4747

www.fasika.com

We just went there and had the "Ultimate Platter" the "yum" was brought.

Might I also add: $36 for dinner and beverages for a family of four not-so-small people? And we were positivly stuffed. They're kind of skimpy on the Injara, so we had to ask for more. They were cheerful about bringing more. I think they just don't want to end up throwing it away, and who can blame them, given the reasons they had to move here?

Now, THAT'S good licorice.

Teresa Lhotka — Wed, 09 Apr 2008 12:39:29 GMT

There is a list of traits where, if that was all someone knew about me, they would assume I am an eighty-year-old grandfather.

The fact that I love licorice is one of them. I'm not a fanatic or anything, I just like me some good licorice once in a while.

Found a new brand. The best yet:

Lucky Country Aussie Style Soft Gormet Black Licorice.

mmm...licorice.

It is finished

Teresa Lhotka — Sun, 30 Dec 2007 01:36:12 GMT

The chili cheese dip for New Years is all done. It has been tested by Rocky and his brother and found to be good.

My title of "She who makes chili cheese dip" remains secure.

There was much rejoicing.

East Coast vacation, day 1

Teresa Lhotka — Wed, 05 Sep 2007 14:25:21 GMT

Or: Teresa and the Dungeon of Near Death

Got up at oh-five-dark-and-sleepy, Rocky got me to the airport in plenty of time. I got on the plane, plane took off on time, no bumps, no hitches, no muss no fuss.

Well, maybe a little muss and fuss. I sat next to a grumpy, incommunicative little man who passed noxious gas the whole flight. But that’s sort of something I’ve come to expect. Travel has a deleterious effect on some people’s digestion.

Got to the airport in Boston, found out Barb was in a completely different terminal, but she got there in enough time to orient herself and find where I would be.

Good thing too, because my eyes were watery and difficult to focus for a while after I got off the plane.

I got my suitcase, and Barb and I hiked to the shuttle bus area where we looked for our shuttle to Enterprise Rental. We saw every other possible type of rental car shuttle, but no Enterprise. Barb went back to the rental car phone bank to make a call, and three Enterprise shuttles came all in one glob while she was gone.

At Enterprise, we were greeted by a fully-staffed counter of freshly-scrubbed and smiling faces in shirts and ties. And I mean greeted, handed bottles of cold spring water, had our hands shaken, were asked about our flights, checked in promptly, and given excellent directions to our destination (including an offer to print out a Google Map, which Rocky had already done for me.)

We got on the road, and began our aimless wander up the coast of Main, taking wrong turns there, and right turns that turned out to be wrong there, and wrong turns that were actually right at the other place…

Oh, that reminds me of something I wanted to say:

“HEY NEW ENGLAND!!!! YOUR SIGNAGE SU-DIDDELY-UCKS!”

There, just had to get that off my chest.

We stopped at Red’s Eats in Wiscasset on Sue’s recommendation (she had been through there days earlier) and the lobster roll, crab cakes and fried zucchini were delicious. The ice cream was rather…eh.

A nice couple we met in line gave us their card, and a sales pitch for a patent medicine that was made from a rare asian herb that would cure all migraines and cluster headaches and a whole list of other seemingly unrelated conditions. It had changed their lives. Uh huh.

More driving, beautiful country, lots of fun chatting and catching up and such, and we finally arrived at N.E. Harbor, where our “cabin” was. We drove all over the place trying to figure out where 76 Harbor Street was, only to eventually find out that somebody (who shall remain nameless) had given us the wrong address and it was actually 76 Summit.

Our friend Alicia, her two daughters and Sue’s daughter walked down to rescue us. There was much rejoicing.

We were exhausted, so I pulled the air-mattresses Sue had loaned us out of my suit case, and we began blowing them up. I got light-headed pretty quickly, so while Barb took a turn at trying to inflate one of them, I went in search of something to help. I thought we might hook a vacuum hose up to the exhaust and use a vacuum to blow up the mattress. I’ve done this before, so I asked about a vacuum.

“In the closet” said Sue.

“What closet?” I asked.

“There’s a door in the entryway.”

I looked around the entry-way, and sure enough, there was a door. I opened it, and there was a defunct dust-buster sitting on a shelf an arm’s length in front of me in a very shallow closet, cloaked in shadow as it was late at night, and that corner of the entry-way was not well lit. I pulled it out and examined it. The thing had probably not worked for ten years. There was rust on it. I went to put it back, and it tipped off the narrow shelf. As I leaned in to right it, I took a step forward…into NOTHING.

My hands shot out and braced against the wall in front of me and the wall to the left. My back slammed up against a shelf that ran along the wall to my right, and friction held me there as I yelled, groped with my foot for the floor that wasn’t there, and yelled again.

More foot-groping, one more yell. Three seemed like a good number of yells.

“What?” Sue demanded, sounding irritated.

“No floor! No floor!” I yelled, or something like that. It’s a little fuzzy. I was still holding myself up, one foot on the threshold, braced at three points by hands and back against walls, and most of my weight dangling over blackness that should have been a floor.

Sue’s daughter brought a flashlight, and shined it down the hole, revealing a steep stair-ladder Chimera going almost straight down into a stone-walled basement filled with junk.

I pushed HARD with my right hand against the back wall, and got myself back out of the “closet”, shut the door, replaced the hook-and-eye latch, and tried to catch my breath.

“That door was sealed off, we couldn’t get it open.” Said Sue, still sounding irritated. She also pointed me to the identical door on the opposite side of the entry-way...where the closet was. It was not immediatly apparent from the side I was on at the time.

“It opened right up,” I replied.

Then I realized that I was probably walking into an already tense situation, and with Sue and Amanda’s help, Barb and I got the air-mattresses inflated, and I laid down and listened to everyone debate endlessly how the logistics were going to work to get everyone somewhere that they wanted to be tomorrow.

Eventually, I said something like, “I don’t care what we do tomorrow, if I’m not asleep in 20 minutes, someone is going to die.”

Plans for the next day were hastily concluded, and I fell asleep to dream of falling and being stuck in a dark dungeon with rats all night.

Usless fact #1

Teresa Lhotka — Wed, 05 Sep 2007 00:34:19 GMT

As a history buff, particularly a colonial/revolutionary history buff, I always love to visit Boston.

I always learn something new.

This time, I learned that if someone says you're "slow as molassass in January", its not the dis it appears to be.

Molassass in January apparently can travel as fast as 35 miles per hour. At least when it is traveling in a 25-foot-tall wave.

I also learned the conditions of one of the first class-action lawsuits in history, and also, I've learned that blaming disaster and mayhem on war protestors is nothing new.

Oh, and for proper form, I should mention that it was Sue and Barb who learned this stuff first, and passed it on to me.

3 Doors Down is not far enough away

Teresa Lhotka — Wed, 25 Apr 2007 03:17:06 GMT

argh. shortbread cookies, with a chocolate layer on top. I am powerless before them.

They are my Jadarite.

(Hat Tip: A Blog Around the Clock)

Lightening up

Teresa Lhotka — Sat, 08 Apr 2006 02:34:06 GMT

Courtesy of Mixologist Robert C. Lister of the Grand Cypress Hotel in Orlando, Florida:

A recipe of his own creation cited here by his permission.

The Ultimate Rum Runner

1 1/4 oz Bacardi Select Rum

3/4 oz Banana Liqueur

3/4 oz Blackberry Brandy

Equal parts pineapple juice, sweet and sour mix

Splash of Grenadine.

Two marichino cherries for garnish

Mix and serve over ice in a tall glass.

Valentine's Chocolates

Teresa Lhotka — Thu, 23 Feb 2006 03:49:34 GMT

I bought some Dove chocolate hearts for Grasshopper’s class for Valentine’s day. The boys and I just ate the left-overs.

Theres silly little sayings on the insides of the wrappers…so we were reading them out loud and mocking them:

Wrapper : “Discover how much your heart can hold”

Adventure Boy: (cupping his two hands together, as though holding onto about a cup

of liquid) “I’d say, about this much.”

Wrapper: “Laugh until your heart overflows”

Adventure Boy: “Gross!”

Wrapper: “Chocolate always loves you back”

Me: “Well, at least it grabs onto your hips and never lets go.”

Adventure Boy: “What does that mean?”

Me: “Never mind, forget I said anything.”

Damn that Wilfred Brimley

Teresa Lhotka — Wed, 08 Feb 2006 17:22:15 GMT

Don’t you just hate it when you’re hungry for something, and you can’t figure out what it is? Boy, do I hate that. I’ve been sort of casting around the house for something good to eat for the past few days. I’ve gone to the grocery store repeatedly for things on my list and, after filling the list, I’ve just sort of wandered the aisles waiting for something to catch my eye, and for my brain to say “Yes! That’s IT! That’s what we want!”

No joy.

This must be what hell is like for those people who just drifted through life never really doing anything particularly bad, but never really doing anything good either.

Nothing tastes right either. You know, I’ve got to eat SOMETHING at meal times…but everything I make just sort of sits there…not being particularly bad…just not particularly good.

It’s like everything tastes like oatmeal. Different flavors of oatmeal.

Excerpt from an e-mail I wrote to Conrad Zero today...

Teresa Lhotka — Mon, 28 Nov 2005 16:47:52 GMT

"Wow, you really do read my blog if you are aware of my creeping horror of all things involving cold shredded vegetables suspended in lime or lemon Jell-O. Catholics have guilt, Baptists have demons lurking around every corner waiting to drag them into hell, and Lutherans have cold, shredded vegetables suspended in lime or lemon Jell-O. And three-bean salad. Oh and congealed Swedish meatballs...

...NOW I remember why I'm an apostate. Thanks for clearing that up for me before I backslid and rejoined the church. Whew. That was close."

WASABI !!!!!!!!

Sat, 19 Nov 2005 00:00:03 GMT

I’ve got a cold. I got it when we were deer hunting and we had to spend the evening out in the freezing sleet for 2-3 hours straight soaked to the skin in high winds while we got deer out of the woods, and out of the fields, and hung up out of reach of critters. It’s been pretty much kicking my ass the last week.

Today, I went to the gym and just put in forty minutes running 5.5 mph on the treadmill…just trying to get something done. Did a little lifting. I felt a little better after that. It lasted about forty minutes.

I grabbed some sushi and sushimi from the local over-priced yuppified supermarket. They have a chef right there in the store that does everything fresh every day.

I slathered everything I ate with wasabi, and breathed deeply after every bite, feeling the delicious cleansing burn of wasabi working its way into my sinuses and bronchial tubes.

Oh, heaven is a clear upper respiratory system. It lasted about twenty minutes.

I would have sushi for dinner as well but even a wasabi lover like me has their limits. Maybe tomorrow if the cold has not gotten better, I will earn myself another few glorious moments of non-congestion.

Lemon-honey tea is also good. Not quite the life-restorer that wasabi is, but easier to take in repeated doses.

Hello, my name is Teresa,

Wed, 16 Nov 2005 05:29:50 GMT

It’s confession time people. No, nothing disgusting, you can uncover your eyes now. I’m a chocoholic.

Not just any kind of chocolate. No, I go in for the really good stuff. I want chocolate that has enough cocoa butter to melt if you even THINK about picking it up.

I like the kind of chocolate where one small square is enough to keep you in a bloodstream of endorphins all day long. Then, I want two squares.

A while ago, my fellow addict, Jen, introduced me to a couple of very good chocolate brands. One of these was Vosges Haut Chocolat. I just finished off one of their bars of chocolate. It took me three days to savor it properly, but in a fit of chocolate need, I finished it off tonight.

It was their Naga Bar. 40% cacao, which is usually a little low for my liking. I am a fan of the 70-85% cocoa content bars myself…but it’s not ALL about the cocoa content…just mostly.

The Naga Bar is a blend of milk chocolate (I’m partial to darks, but not a purist), Sweet Indian curry power, and coconut flakes. Love it.

Now, I realize that as a blue-collar values country girl who shoots and butchers her own deer, the only thing that I should be within ten feet of that has “Naga” in the name is a gen-u-ine naga-hide sofa.

I can’t help it. It is not just chocolate. It is chocolate that has a satiny sheen to it, a delicate balance of flavor. It is subtle and sublime. It is instant endorphins without the sweating and muscle aches.

Yes, it’s pretentious as hell. (Yes, of course hell is pretentious. Can you imagine anything that would cause the damned more suffering than being around the insufferable?)

Yes, it is overpriced. Even worse, and a source of some guilt to me…I have no idea if it is slavery free. I assure myself that it must be. One of these days I’ll have the courage to investigate it further.

I can’t help myself.

The other titles of theirs that I like are:

1) Red Fire Bar – 55% cacao dark chocolate with Mexican ancho y chipotle, chili peppers, and Ceylon cinnamon.

2) Black Pearl Bar – 55% cacao dark chocolate with Japanese ginger, wasabi, and black sesame seeds.

For some other very good (and guilt-free chocolate-it’s slavery free. Guilt about the calories, sugar and indulgence is your own problem) I like Equal Exchange. They also sell coffee. I like to buy free trade goods whenever I can.

Of course, Cote d'Or is also wonderful, and I love the Chocolate XOXOX Ginger Crystallized in Dark Chocolate. (65% cocoa) I find the rest of their stuff rather unremarkable by comparison to the aforementioned wonders…but the ginger stuff is good.

Sigh. Life is good, because there is chocolate. Good thing I ran five and a half miles today.

Public Service Announcement

Tue, 08 Nov 2005 13:59:37 GMT

Conrad Zero has blogged yet again.

And lo, it is good, and honest and true. Also, referances to Wookie scrotums.

Don't miss this.

"When Bulldogs Attack"

Teresa Lhotka — Mon, 06 Sep 2004 04:45:41 GMT

There is a whole lot of fun in a Colorado Bulldog, and a whole LOT more fun in four of them More fun than the human body was meant to have, evidently.

I say this because the next morning, all that fun escapes out the top of your head, and through your eye sockets.

Leaving you a dried, empty shell.

I’m just saying.

Fire Bad, Tree Pretty.

Friday night was the bonfire party. Saturday was picking corn with the in-laws, their friends, and a hang-over that would rival the Rocky Mountains .

Sunday was running home to be in time for Kung Fu, which Rocky made sure I would be on time for, because he said he would, and that’s just the kind of guy he is.

I finally finished up the brown belt test I took several weeks ago.

All I had left to do was the two minutes of push-ups and punching out the candle flame.

For some reason, both of these things eluded me the first time I took the test. I passed today, though…through diligence, hard work, perseverance, and the good graces of ShiFu, who seems to know exactly when a human being has reached their limits, and no more can be gotten out of them.

So I will be awarded a brown sash probably next weekend, and begin really training for the black sash test….and Diamond Nationals.

It wasn’t easy, but it was worth it.

All-in-all, it was a very eventful weekend…and it’s not over…Renaissance Festival tomorrow. Whoot!

Well, as my brain is fried, my bad shoulder aches, and I can’t really move it that much…

It’s time for bed. I’ll write something clever tomorrow. I promise.

But for your trouble of coming here to read this lame entry...I'll provide you with a delicious recipie:

Rocky's infamous Colorado Bulldogs:

2 parts Vodka

1 parts Creme de Cocoa

1 part Kahulua

2 parts Coca Cola

Pour over ice. Add cream to taste.

Enjoy in moderation. No, really. I mean it. Learn from my mistakes.