the IDIOT QUEST TASTE EXPLOSION

On Sunday night, we had the best/worst calamari fry ever. Above, our token fish-less vegetarian pretends to enjoy the creatures that come from the sea.

Well, really it was book club. But Jordan decided to be gracious and hospitable and super bourgeois and make calamari. Above, the egg that went into the Sriracha aioli I made. I SHOULD HAVE READ INSTRUCTIONS before making it.

I had to use the food processor on the floor because the chord was too short to reach anywhere. There was no cat hair in the aioli, as far as I could tell. And if there was, APOLOGIES, BOOK CLUBBERS!

We had the calamari two ways: beer-battered, in honor of the state fair, and a more traditional bread crumb. I’m a beer-batter fan myself. Above, fresh calamari, blurry and sideways.

Less exciting and containing no tentacles, the lemony hummus was a crowd pleaser.

Deliciously shiny!

Look at that pleased crowd! Undoubtedly, it was all of the fish and artificially-colored malt beverages/energy drinks that delivered this joy.

Above, the morning after. Go book club! I can’t remember what we read.

My first City Pages blog post went up today. PRETTY EXCITING, or something. Just kidding, Internet Reader Who Understands Written Sarcasm. I’m excited to be putting my best foot-in-mouth forward for CP whenever I can. Going forward, I’m aiming for one post a week. Doable.

TOMORROW, ON IQTE: photos from book club! We prepared calamari, talked about the book for 15 minutes (maybe), and finished all of my hard liquor.

AND NOW, SOMETHING YOU CAN REALLY LOOK FORWARD TO: I’m making a feast on Saturday for friends who responded to my Facebook status query: “Who wants me to make you dinner? You bring the liquor.” I’m excited. It’s gonna be fish-centric.

Probably? Who knows. So I hear.

Some for sures: going to begin writing for City Pages Hot Dish blog. I’ll be covering local food news and dishing out attitude. I’ll link from here, and from my tumblr, which is way more relevant than this archaic WordPress-run thingamajig.

Also, do you ever fee like not brushing your teeth? That’s where I’m at right now. Happy Saturday.

I hope my life will be sparkly, and filled with lamb. I have a feeling that my weekly consumption of Zours will lead to some unfortunate malady, probably diabetes. Other than that, I see myself in the same apartment with the same cats and the same dirty floors. Some of the dishes will probably still be dirty, and most of my books will still be lying around, unread and architectural, stacked in skyscraper-like piles. There will probably be more dust.

Aliens? What about them? Oh. The title. I wrote that before I wrote the entry. I’m trying this thing called Plinky, which is a prompt service. I like and dislike it already in equal measures. You can tell that the prompts have been written with whiny bloggers in mind. I’m not really a whiny blogger, at least not here. Well, I’ll let you know how this Plinky thing goes. Or maybe I won’t!

Last week was about rejection. This week is going to be about stuffing myself with things that make me feel good! Some of these things will be food. Ew. I mean, all of these things will be food. I’m not going to go on some sort of stuffing-other-things into myself rampage. What I’m trying to say is, this blog is gonna get real food-centric for a minute. Remember when this blog was about edibles? I don’t really. I pretty much created this thing so that I could make fun of people who take food too seriously. And then I quit cooking, because, ugh!, it’s just so much work! So much time! So much calories! But you know what? I say fugg you to calories, to work, to time: I’m making pot roast! Matter of fact, I already made pot roast. And I took pictures. So there’s a good chance that if you’re a faithful reader of this blog (hi, Mom!) that you will see pictures of this pot roast. Other things I’m doing: making dinner with Steph and Becky tonight. Jord will be there too, but probably acting more like a deejay and alcoholist than cook. Will there be dancing? You’ll just have to ask me tomorrow. (There won’t be dancing.)

Today is recovery day two from Strep Throat. Apparently I’m eight years old, or, as my doctor gently put it: “Have you been hanging around a lot of young children?” No, sir doctor, I have not. “Well, it’s really unusual for someone over 18 to have Strep.” Don’t know what to tell ya. Haven’t been around any children. No children. Ever. Keep them away from me.

For lunch today I wasn’t feeling spectacularly outgoing, so I heated up some canned sauce and cooked some cheese-filled ravioli. The only good thing about this situation is that  I had some feta on hand, the last remaining morsels that I bought along with some spinach that I had forced myself to choke down over the weekend. This purchase occurred after I decided I was going to die from eating too many french fries and Uptown Burgers. Pretty sure I’m okay now. Except for this whole death-like illness thingy.

But onto happier things: I like feta cheese. In fact, I’m relatively certain that the path to happiness is sprinkled with feta cheese and lined with bacon. My favorite feta in Minneapolis is sold at Bill’s Imported Foods on Lake Street near Lyndale. Pretty sure they make it there, along with their mozzarella. I’ve never asked if they make it, because they scare me, but it sits in large watery vats that don’t look an inch like commercial pre-packaging. Here is their super informative Web site: Oh so much imported foods!

For those of you who did not click that link, good. Let me tell you about that Web site: it’s super low-tech and not at all interested in marketing to you. It’s more like, “Oh. Hi there. I see you must have heard about us. Here’s our store hours and our address. Do with this information what you will.” If you should decide to visit Bill’s, you will find that the ambiance is much the same. Which is why I like the place. It’s doesn’t give a fuck about you. Yet the people who work behind the counter–typically an older woman and a middle-aged man who could be her son, a pair that I’ve always assumed are the owners–are warm but not necessarily friendly. They own an imported foods store–not a Bath & Body Works–and they don’t put up pretend niceties. Plus they have aisles of canned shit that takes forever to find at huge supermarkets. Last time I checked, they have a tahini section, which is fun, and there is almost an entire aisle devoted to dried fruits and nuts. I’m a sucker for both.

You should visit Bill’s, because I’m concerned that they will one day close, and then I will no longer be able to taste their feta. So don’t ruin this for me. Thanks. Also, bring cash. They don’t accept your modern forms of payment.

Only once have I written a letter to a famous person with the hope that she would think I was awesome. It was to Sharon Olds, the depressing poet, who I actually rather enjoy, probably because she talks about dirty stuff. Anywho, she never wrote back, so I never wrote anyone again. Psh. Whatever. I’mOverIt. Really I wasn’t too terribly offended, mostly because I once read an interview with her where she spoke about never reading newspapers, watching television, or paying any attention to her environment, all so that she could focus on her writing and shiz like that. In other words, she is the polar opposite of everyone in my generation. Especially me.

So I found this letter from John Kricfalusi, the probably smelly but also probably really cool cartoonist behind Ren & Stimpy. It’s written to a young fan. On the one hand, Mr. John is kind of butt-head for assuming the kid wants tips on drawing and cartooning. On the other more relevant hand, this letter is totally awesome. Dude even gives out his e-mail address (along with the completely realistic explanation that he would probably never have the time to answer him.)

I may just write a letter today. Probably to Amy Sedaris, who I would like to morph into. I’ve gotta run; the cat is puking. Wish cat vomit were a marketable venture. I’d be rolling in major benjamins. I’d have like five benjamins, maybe. What’s a benjamin?

SOMETHING YOU SHOULD LOOK AT: Cartoonist is awesome to children.

1.)   You never really see any statuses that say things like, “Man, today I am hungry! Stupid life.” Statuses are usually more like, “Dude, a snow plow hit my car. FML LOL.” America, which is the same as Facebook, should start celebrating the ordinary. Today, update on the obvious. Maybe you can start out with: “woke up today. don’t know what to do now.”

Give it a try! Let me know how it goes.

Or you can do whatever the hell you want.

Have a great day, Internet! I’ll be busy processing your leave from work. Also, don’t get killed by that blizzard-ish thing, Minnesota-region.