94. Placemats

I recently classed up my apartment with some nice Ikea placemats:

:klistrig:

They make me feel like someone’s mom (in a good way), and they make our lovely pre-furnished furniture look a little more homey and a little less college-y.

Recently, Curtis and I went to Ten-Ren Teatime, a lovely restaurant in College Park. Their placemats were covered in pictures of tea. I couldn’t find a picture, but their rectangular menu was similar in artistic vision.

:might as well be a placemat:

We stopped there because I had been to the Ten Ren’s Teahouse in New York’s Chinatown, right next to my favorite restaurant – Big Wong.

:order the roast pork and noodle soup, it'll make you want to cry:

I’d bought bulk tea there (jasmine green, orchid oolong) and it was very good. I’d never, however, eaten their food.

Here I should mention the food situation in College Park. Curtis and I have tried lots and lots of restaurants, trying to find something edible. The College Park Diner has proved both delicious and affordable, and the staff is absolutely adorable. We’re partial to a few of the waitresses who already know us as regulars.

:love it.:

Other than the CP Diner, however, we’ve gotten disappointment after disappointment. I do not recommend the Tandoori House, for example, right on Route One across from my apartment building. Plato’s Diner is vile. Which brings us to Ten Ren’s.

:plato's placemats:

Curtis ordered Kung Pao Tofu. I ordered Pork and Noodle Soup. And I got a huge surprise.

First, some Alice, in the house of the Duchess:

“The door led right into a large kitchen, which was full of smoke from one end to the other: the Duchess was sitting on a three-legged stool in the middle, nursing a baby; the cook was leaning over the fire, stirring a large cauldron which seemed to be full of soup.

“There’s certainly too much pepper in that soup!” Alice said to herself, as well as she could for sneezing.

There was certainly too much of it in the air. Even the Duchess sneezed occasionally; and the baby was sneezing and howling alternately without a moment’s pause. The only things in the kitchen that did not sneeze were the cook, and a large cat which was sitting on the hearth and grinning from ear to ear.”

This was almost precisely my reaction. My soup was pepper soup, and not much else. The noodles, cabbage and carrots couldn’t hide it – it was pepper soup. My face hurt for hours after the ordeal (because, of course, I ate it – can’t waste food when there are children starving in Africa). And this (more Alice) was stuck in my head:

The Duchess sings to her child:

““Speak roughly to your little boy,

And beat him when he sneezes:

He only does it to annoy,

Because he knows it teases.”

Chorus

(In which the cook and baby joined):—

“Wow! wow! Wow!”

While the Duchess sang the second verse of the song, she kept tossing the baby violently up and down, and the poor little thing howled so, that Alice could hardly hear the words:—

“I speak severely to my boy,

I beat him when he sneezes;

For he can thoroughly enjoy

The pepper when he pleases!”

Chorus

“Wow! wow! Wow!””

:alice, the duchess, and pepper soup:

Finally, an Alice in Wonderland placemat for the road (although I think the above image would be much nicer in placemat form).

:and a happy birthday indeed.:

June 21, 2010. Art, Books, Culture, Food, Geography, Rectangles. 3 comments.

93. Contortionists

I found this picture six months ago:

:in spur ay shun ul:

It inspired me in so many, many ways – not the least of which was, Can’t I do that, too? What if I tried to fit into as many rectangles as possible, documented it with photographic evidence, and then posted it to my blizzog? What if I went to Ikea (home of many rectangles) and took advantage of the parallelograms?

God, that was a brilliant idea. I tried to get Joe Shmoe to go to Ikea with me, but he wouldn’t (Joe, maybe that’s what being a pussy feels like). Luckily along came Curtis, who not only accompanied me to Ikea, but dressed all in black and executed our photo sesh with pizzazz.

Unfortunately, the (non-rectangular) camera that I bought at the CVS lost all of our pictures. There is no photographic evidence of, say, me climbing in between the rectangular shelves of a rectangular wardrobe or Curtis lying flat under a rectangular couch. Hopefully one day some photos like this will come to light.

For now the naked girl in the laundry basket will have to do.

June 9, 2010. Art, Culture, Rectangles. 3 comments.