dîner b-7aret

Ya 7abibi, 7abibi! Baddi b7ebbak bas kif fiyi when you serve me such stringy kebabs? monshu and I made a return visit because the avuncular owner had tried so hard to please us last time and because I wanted to try some new dishes. Well, the owner wasn't there this time and the new dishes weren't exactly worth going out of our way for.

I was especially curious to try the maqlouba; I'm still curious, in fact, since what we were served didn't bear much resemblance to the dish as I've seen it described elsewhere. Three strikes against the eggplant, which should be the heart of the dish: It was purple (I thought Egyptians, like the Turks, preferred the tastier Asian varieties), it was mushy, and it was scanty. There was no "poor man's eggplant" (i.e. cauliflower); the bulk of the vegetable matter was actually potatoes, which are nowhere listed as a usual ingredient. The labneh was tasty and refreshing, but too much for two people; the richness got to me well before we reached the bottom of the pita basket.

That's not to say it wasn't nice to get out for a little stroll in the mild evening with my main man, but I think next time we do this it'll be to one of the Middle Eastern places over on Clark. Time after next, actually, since the next time will most likely be to a place that had never let us down, namely Masouleh.

Wet, wet, wet!

I'm barefoot right now. It's the only way my socks will have any chance of drying before I have to go home. Not that it makes much difference, as I know they will be immediately redampened by my sodden shoes, which once permeated remain moist overnight. I truly regret not having the chutzpah to hang out my drenched trousers as well, but you just know that would be the moment some administrator would choose to make their first ever site inspection. At least the seat and the crotch are still completely dry (it's basically the exact reverse of the soaking pattern of an incontinent male) and the indoor heatwave we've been suffering under has been transformed temporarily from bane to boon.

Yes, I heard the weather report. Yes, I saw that it was dark well past noon. Yes, I heard the thunder. Still, somehow I doubted it could really be that bad. Certainly, I saw no reason to alter plans to dine chez les Coréens until it was already too late and turning back would not have made me any drier. I must've presented them with a pathetic image, since Jay immediately offered me free kalbi and--as usual--would broke no refusal. After a cup of citron tea, I was as right as...rain. Then I had to turn around and walk back again through the same downpour.