Shunning Wilde

Poor monshu! His heinous temporary promotion has left him too exhausted at night even to read his escapist genre novels. And poor me! Since he's watching TV to relax and I want to relax with him, I end up watching TV, too--and more than he does, since he falls asleep and then I find myself unable to leave the programme before it ends because that's just how my bloody mind works. (I don't like turning pop songs off in the middle either.)

In any case, this is how I ended up catching the pilot of Running Wilde last night, which I pretty quickly placed as That-Show-Someone-Told-Me-About-(probably-rollick)-That-Wants-So-Badly-To-Be-Arrested-Development-But-Isn't. And that's an especially damn shame given all the talent that's been flung at it. My half-hour of viewing was filled with moments like "Hey, is that Peter Serafinowicz? Cool! Did they really get him just to play a cringe-inducing racist stereotype? Oh."

Actually my first moment like that was seeing Mel Rodriguez' Mario moustache. At first, I couldn't even tell that he was playing a Hispanic. Seriously, "Migo"? That's not Spanish, it's Latverian. I blame him for sucking me in in the first place, since as perfectly suited as Will Arnett was to the character of Joel, I just can't see wanting to watch a series where the rich clueless douche is the protagonist. But as long as the cute bear stays trapped in a suit, there's nothing to bring me back for more.

Shy moon

monshu and I had a quiet celebration of the Mid-Autumn Festival tonight; frankly, that was all either of us was up for. I suggested meeting at Hana Sushi on Sheridan just north of Pratt so we could walk a block to the beach and wait for Chang'er to make her appearance. Official moonrise was at 6:10 p.m., so we decided dinner could wait until afterwards. It was a pleasant night but, alas, the thick blanket of violet clouds on the eastern horizon never parted. After about a half hour, we gave up and strolled back to the restaurant. Too bad we didn't have a better view toward the west, because there seems to have been an impressive sunset at least, judging from the golden light leaking between the highrises and trees.

Having the place to ourselves was pleasant from one point of view and concerning from another; at this rate, I'm not sure how much longer the ladies can keep the business going. Odd in a way, because it's not like there are any other better options for sushi in this part of Rogers Park. The food is nothing special--and the tempura potatoes were a particular disappointment this time--but it's perfectly acceptable and the hostess is just so sweet. As we were leaving, I told her, "추석 잘 지내세요!" and got the anticipated stunned response.

We ate leisurely, so by the time we left the moon had cleared not only the clouds but the elms as well. I could even see it from my seat on the porch a short bus ride later. I pulled out the Korean wines and we settled on 가울국화 ("Autumn Chrysanthemum") as an appropriate choice. It hadn't had time to chill, so I iced it in a shaker as my better half went to fetch the mooncakes from the other room. "I only got one of the things I planned to done," he said, presenting them to me atop the Oxford Chinese dictionary (which I'd informed him only a few days earlier he was getting me for Hogmanay).

When I cracked it open later this evening, I went straight to the entry for 月 yuè and found this text box under "月饼":

A round pastry with a sweet or savoury filling. A symbol of reunion, moon cakes are traditionally eaten at the Mid-Autumn Festival (➤中秋节), while appreciating the moon. They are believed to have originated in the Tang Dynasty. Over the centuries, many kinds of moon cakes appeared in different parts of China. The most famous cakes come from Jiangsu and Guangdong provinces.

(Yes, Simplified is used exclusively in the body of the text, though Traditional forms are given in parentheses after head characters.)

When it comes to regifting, mooncakes are the fruitcakes of China, so it shouldn't come as a surprise that these (世紀圓月月餅, from the Transcentury Hotel in Nanning) had passed through at least two sets of hands before ending up in ours. We were intrigued by the small black one, and both a bit let down to find it was simply an ordinary lotus paste mooncake with no special flavour. (monshu had been hoping for chocolate; I'd bet on black sesame.) One of the others is clearly marked "white lotus paste" and another "egg yolk flaky" (referring to the style of crust), but the last is a complete mystery.