Oh, yes, we are safely back
from Ohio. We have survived the dangers of overeating and too much music and have made a safe return.
It was warm and lovely in Columbus; on our return trip, we found snow on the ground in northern Indiana; deeper snow in Illinois; the deepest in Wisconsin. We crawled right up the back of winter as we came home.
Friday evening ten of us went to an Ethiopian restaurant in Columbus, The Blue Nile. Dishes were ordered individually, but were served on common trays so it was easy for three or four people to share their food. We were given no silverware. You snatched your food (and the food of your neighbor) with the Ethiopian flatbread we were also served. What a lovely communal experience. There's an Ethiopian saying that once you share a meal with someone, you cannot betray him.
The food was served on large trays, so it didn't look as if the portions were huge, yet we all ate our fill. So much so that I remarked to my companions something about not being able to get up from the table.
The woman who had served us was clearing a table nearby and overhead what I said. "You can be sure," she said, not unkindly but firmly, "that when it gets to be 9:55 p.m. I will get you out of here." She had had a long day.
"Do you have a wheelbarrow?" I wondered. She laughed.
Afterwards I was still able to acquit myself quite splendidly with a double scoop of peanut butter chocolate chip ice cream at the Graeter's ice cream shop. Let it not be said that Tom is a piker. There's always room for ice cream!
On Saturday, Mary and I and Mary's brother Philip went to Jungle Jim's in Cincinnati and wandered about the four acres of foods from all around the world. We thought the better of buying a frozen durian, for surely it would start to thaw on the hour and a half drive home and Philip would never be able to get the stink of it out of his car. There are some countries that durian cannot be imported into simply because Customs does not want to deal with its terrible smell.
I have never smelled fresh durian, but we bought a box of durian frozen fruit popsicles and ate them as we loaded our groceries into the car. The flavor was custardy and smooth, rich, distinct; and at the far end of the taste perhaps there was the faintest hint of what the fresh fruit would smell like. Very interesting.
There were four durian popsicles in the box and three of us, so we waylaid a couple bringing their groceries past us. Doing our best imitation of not-completely-insane, we offered them the remaining popsicle. Obviously they, too, were from the Group W bench. They thought a durian popsicle might be fun.
We headed to Mike and Sandy's house Saturday evening for supper and music. We took with us many of the goodies we'd picked up at Jungle Jim's - seven kinds of cheese, three loaves of bread, humus, and so on - and Philip had made a soup for the main course.
Eight of us sat around the dining room table eating hors d'oeuvres and eating more hors d'oeuvres, and we never did get around to heating up the soup. We went straight from hors d'oeuvres to strawberry shortcake, and then to music.
And eventually back to Philip's house to sleep. And eventually to rise on Sunday morning, load our bags into the car, put our butts in the seats and head north by northwest towards snow and cold and home.
Thanks, Columbus!
Ethiopian food is great - and yeah, i've noticed how the portions appear deceptively small. I think that enjera (sp.?) stuff expands in your stomach. Unlike, say, ice cream.
Posted by: Dave | January 23, 2006 at 08:11 PM
Dave--They spelled it "injira" at this restaurant, and definitely it expands in the stomach. How else to explain it, unless there is a loaves and fishes effect when eating with good people around you.
I have always contended that ice cream, because it melts to a liquid state, fills in around everything else you have eaten. Hence: "There's always room for ice cream."
Posted by: Tom Montag | February 05, 2006 at 12:35 PM