Text 4265, 64 rader
Skriven 2006-08-13 00:08:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: Echo Picnic 1 62
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The original plan had been for me to fly down and
then motor up with Carol in her sports car, but as
she had spent her vacation time tending me in the
hospital, it was deemed that she could not spare
the extra time for the picnic, so she stayed home
and chilled out. Fortuitously, Ellen and Joel, who
have been taking care of me in my recuperation, were
scheduled to go down to New York and were able to
drop me off on the way at Clean Dave's. After uneasy
initial pleasantries (they keep Kosher - Dave's hands
were reeking of pig grease), I was dropped off, and
immediately peckish was offered a tasty snack of Goya
octopus in garlic sauce - extremely (perhaps too)
tender chunks of cephalopod in a lightly garlicked oil.
There were also some standard herring pieces in wine
sauce. After which it was time for my afternoon nap.

When I woke, people had arrived, and we had this
joyous reunion, at which Dave pulled out Zim's doggy
lung snacks - these tasted not so interesting (generic
raw organ meat) but had a distressing styrotexture
that turned ickily gooey on hydration. Several people
tried this, all finding them wanting.

Dave prepared an appetizer on the stovetop, as his
famous grill had suddenly conked out - this was
teriyaki and hot wings (two kinds, using premade sauce
from Arnold's, the local butcher), was welcome.

After which we had burgers (preformed, Arnold's, but
actually respectable - we were trusting of this best of
butchers and could eat medium-rare ones with impunity)
and pan-fried plantains (these would have been excellent
had they not been burned on one side - but they were
still pretty good).

Washed this down with two kinds of sake -

Midnight Moon, a genmai ginjo and thus pretty refined,
a very ricey flavor and an aroma of cantaloupe and
other fruits, not much staying power or distinctiveness

and Wan Fu, which I initially mistook for the French
Chardonnay made for the Chinese market of the same name
and which is unspeakably nasty. This stuff on opening
yielded a gentle aroma of fresh sewage and/or rotten
Brussels sprouts, and the taste was no better, with a
sake undertone bolstered by grass cuttings and turnip.
There are now pictures extant of me pouring a bottle of
booze down the sink.

We cleaned our palates and systems with Beijingergetoujiu,
a 112 proof Chinese firewater of, I thought, some neutral
deliciousness. You could discern rice and some estery
fruitiness, but the general impression was of a rather
suave liquid fire down your throat.

In honor of my current condition I had the equivalent of
about 1 drink total and went to bed fairly early.

Present: Sacerdotes 3, Manny Rothstein, Ruth Hanschka,
Joan MacDiarmid, the Fords, the Shipps, and myself.
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