Mar. 17th, 2014 03:18 pm
Return of the Supper Club
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muckefuckI may have to revise my view of alcohol. For the longest time, I thought the primary issue was that it aggravated my reflux, thus preventing me from sleeping and making me feel like crap the next day. The last couple of times I had a lot to drink, I didn't have reflux, but I got to bed late, thus prevents me from sleeping soundly and making me feel like crap the next day. This last time, I didn't have any reflux and got to bed at a reasonable hour--and still felt like crap. Eight full hours, and I literally felt like I hadn't slept at all. So maybe the real problem is that alcohol prevents me from sleeping soundly, and those other aggravations just make things worse.
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monshu was a pearl yesterday to make up for what an irritant I was being. My naps failed and the water shutoff in the middle of the afternoon for a repair next door ended up playing havoc with my laundry schedule. By the late afternoon, however, I'd regained some equilibrium and if I wasn't bright-eyed, at least I wasn't failing asleep on my feet any more. Which is good, because we had dinner plans with Turtle and Turtlewife.
They weren't too perky themselves, having just driven back from Indiana and gotten caught in the snarl downtown due to an armed standoff in the middle of Lake Shore Drive. After a bit of back-and-forth, we defaulted to the Old Man's original plan of trying out the new Ethiopian (nominally Eritrean) place down the street, imaginatively called Red Sea. It's the latest odd fit in that cavernous space where Habibi used to be.
We were the only diners, but not the only people there. They seem to have kept the hookah lounge aspect of the previous establishment. It was hard to tell on account of the semidarkness, but I think there were about a half-dozen Abyssinian men in the comfy chairs on the other side of the room. The interior wall is one huge video screen which played host to a succession of samey low-budget Eritrean music videos someone was scrounging off of YouTube, almost every one of them AutoTuned to within an inch of its life. At least they did lower the volume out of deference to us.
The food was surprisingly decent and quite inexpensive. Spicing was a good as I've had almost anywhere though they were a bit too free with the jalapeños for me. The meat was a bit tough, and this is the first Ethiopian restaurant I've seen where "doro" means chicken cut up for stir-fry rather than whole pieces. Although I liked the lentil dishes, they weren't as tender as I'm used to, making me wonder if they cut the cooking time too short in order not to keep us waiting too long. But all in all a good experience.
Turtlewife seems to be doing well at her new job, even if it is an hour commute to a Catholic hospital in the wing where old people come to die. And Turtle is a pig in shit with talk of a huge new expansion of the fledgeling professional association she's gotten up and running. It's liberating for a change not to hear any talk ofmonshu's old workplace; they must've gotten that out of their system last Friday.
For me the sweetest part of the evening came as they were leaving. Let me explain: We were all standing by the door obviously tired, but whenever someone made a move to leave, they'd first remember just one more thing they wanted to mention. We don't know enough people who enjoy our company like that. It reaffirmed that we'd gone too long without getting together and now everyone's looking forward to next week's gathering at Maude's.
monshu was a pearl yesterday to make up for what an irritant I was being. My naps failed and the water shutoff in the middle of the afternoon for a repair next door ended up playing havoc with my laundry schedule. By the late afternoon, however, I'd regained some equilibrium and if I wasn't bright-eyed, at least I wasn't failing asleep on my feet any more. Which is good, because we had dinner plans with Turtle and Turtlewife.They weren't too perky themselves, having just driven back from Indiana and gotten caught in the snarl downtown due to an armed standoff in the middle of Lake Shore Drive. After a bit of back-and-forth, we defaulted to the Old Man's original plan of trying out the new Ethiopian (nominally Eritrean) place down the street, imaginatively called Red Sea. It's the latest odd fit in that cavernous space where Habibi used to be.
We were the only diners, but not the only people there. They seem to have kept the hookah lounge aspect of the previous establishment. It was hard to tell on account of the semidarkness, but I think there were about a half-dozen Abyssinian men in the comfy chairs on the other side of the room. The interior wall is one huge video screen which played host to a succession of samey low-budget Eritrean music videos someone was scrounging off of YouTube, almost every one of them AutoTuned to within an inch of its life. At least they did lower the volume out of deference to us.
The food was surprisingly decent and quite inexpensive. Spicing was a good as I've had almost anywhere though they were a bit too free with the jalapeños for me. The meat was a bit tough, and this is the first Ethiopian restaurant I've seen where "doro" means chicken cut up for stir-fry rather than whole pieces. Although I liked the lentil dishes, they weren't as tender as I'm used to, making me wonder if they cut the cooking time too short in order not to keep us waiting too long. But all in all a good experience.
Turtlewife seems to be doing well at her new job, even if it is an hour commute to a Catholic hospital in the wing where old people come to die. And Turtle is a pig in shit with talk of a huge new expansion of the fledgeling professional association she's gotten up and running. It's liberating for a change not to hear any talk of
monshu's old workplace; they must've gotten that out of their system last Friday.For me the sweetest part of the evening came as they were leaving. Let me explain: We were all standing by the door obviously tired, but whenever someone made a move to leave, they'd first remember just one more thing they wanted to mention. We don't know enough people who enjoy our company like that. It reaffirmed that we'd gone too long without getting together and now everyone's looking forward to next week's gathering at Maude's.