"And now the sun had stretched out all the hills"
Midsummer dusk in Lincoln Park. 7/27/05 ~ 7:30 p.m.
(Oz Park)
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Nighthawks
Baba Palace, an all night Halal cab joint on the edge of downtown Chicago, advertises itself as a welcoming, worn-around-the-edges place that serves heaping portions for under $5. It was a quarter after 10 p.m. and I had come across a spattering of praise for this place on Chowhound. I had been planning a trip for later in the week to the celebrated Devon Street -- the area of Chicago with an abundance of delicious, inexpensive Indian eateries -- but I had been dreading the long hike. I had eaten very little that day and my bowl of Campbell's chicken noodle at 6 o'clock had begun to wear off. Before that I had a vending machine Chicken salad sandwhich with some withered Frito's. I was malnourished; restless.
But then I came across Baba's; a 24-hour greasy spoon for the cabbies. This sounded exciting because my all time favorite restaurant, Pakistan Tea House, was a humble nook on Church street that serviced nocturnal taxi drivers. One week in 2000 I ate Pakistan Tea House 9 times, sometimes walking from my dorm at Pace at 2 in the morning; the urge too hard to resist.
I dressed fast and hopped on the brown line for downtown hoping I had found my new home. Once I exited the train, I walked 10 blocks or so in the wrong direction; Baba's was hidden next to the El when I got off. I took a cab, since it was pushing 11, and told him "334 W. Chicago Street!" -- he responded 'Is that Baba's?" I arrived at the entrance, a bit grimy and hot without AC, and saw that some rustics were roughhousing around a billiards game. Pakis filled the place speckled with the occasional goofy looking white grad student with emo glasses and slouchy shoulders. Besides the action at the pool table, the other patrons ate in silence looking outside down Ontario Street.
My chicken makhani and daal w/rice (tragically, they had stopped making breads) was less than $5. I had paid $18 the previous week for some Vindaloo and a piece of roti. This was more my speed. I ate everything in 5 minutes while still managing to get pulled into a horrendous Indian soap opera on a tv above. In reality the food was o.k., but my pangs helped that. The skinny grad student was now digesting back in his chair while sipping on some ice. My back had become so sweaty that I pulled the back of my shirt over the back of my chair. I too sat back and digested while finishing out the soap opera. I stood up satisfied and the owner, whose attention had been on the pool game, waved bye to me and told me to 'come again.'
I sat on the empty train platform and caught the last brown train back to Lincoln park; the convenience of city life sitting happy.
Let me, once again, dwell among my untrodden ways.
S'boot time
I abstain from restaurant posts because very few of you live in Chicago; but this is an exception. Inevitably I found that one torching hot Indian dish that I knew was out there. I've noticed that the majority of American Indian restaurants have become quite wimpy in spice, and this has to be the result of owners trying not to offend those fragile American palettes. The Chicken Vindaloo at Indian Grill on Clark Street in Lincoln Park is raunchy; gets your mouth uncomfortable and quick. Soon the heat subsides and the most enjoyably strange flavors take over. Soaked with roti and this is now the best thing I've had in Chicago.
I know some of you can't handle Indian, and I do feel for you.
Davidsbündlertänze
New York based concert pianist Jeremy Denk gives us an A+ post on early Schumann piano music.
Inciting event: X and X's colleagues were arguing with me in a bar that Schumann really was not such a great composer after all. Well into my second, or third, Belgian ale, my arguments distilled themselves frighteningly into a very narrow retort: simply the word "Davidsbündlertänze," nearly screamed, several times in a row, with accompanying head-shakes and signs of distress, like those of a mental patient.
Chores
Posting will be less frequent in summer.
Berman's a DEM!
Nice to see the sports world isn't completely dominated by the GOP, as I had once perceived it to be.
You can also search other non-sports celebrities to find the contributions they gave to certain political parties. Tom Cruise's allegiance, considering that zealous coterie of his, is a bit of a shocker.
starfucker
4th
As a reward to all my favorite regulars in light of our nation's birthday, here is one of the funniest documentaries you will ever see. I implore you watch it. (Thanks Dave)
