I Smell Like Spent Ammo
Many of you have been writing in and calling and whatnot to ask how the "snooping around the neighborhood for previously undiscovered good eats" has been going this time, while Girl Sr. and Girl Jr. are away. Well, it's a good question, and I am happy to answer it.
This time, the tour began at a Chinese buffet just down the road. I had been vaguely aware that it existed, since it is -- like everything around here -- in a strip mall. This one happens to be just a few doors down from a place where you can get your empty ink cartridges refilled, which is something I have to do now since Canon no longer sees fit to sell the particular shape and size of ink cartridge I need for my old printer. Somehow, all of the foregoing shaped my expectations and first impressions of the Chinese buffet, which isn't really fair, probably, but it is what it is.
The Chinese buffet features a monstrous sign outside... gigantic red letters that say something like, "CHINESE BUFFET"... possibly 20 feet tall. If not for the fact that the sign faces north and is in English, I would think -- based on the size of it -- that it is intended to be visible from the Chinese mainland, to encourage timid Beijing-ites to go ahead and come on over to America, assured that there will be Chinese food available when they get here.
What can I say. The place was bigger inside than I expected. Possibly the size of a Burlington Coat Factory. It was obvious right away that I had *not* had the misfortune to stumble into a buffet restaurant that had a lot of flies, but it was also clear pretty quickly that I had had the misfortune to stumble into a buffet restaurant where the chicken was going to be of dubious quality and there would probably be a hair in something I ate. I dished up and returned to my table (one nice thing about buffet eateries, when you are solo = no awkward staring at the other guests while you wait for your food to arrive). The chicken came through, doing double-duty: it was not only of questionable quality, it also had a hair in it. I grabbed an orange for dessert, and hit the road. Damage: approx. $12 and a portion of my belief that mankind is inherently decent to one another.
The second place was a tiny Italian place that turned out to be really excellent. It was not only tiny, it was in a strip mall that was itself tiny, and that strip mall had a devil-may-care attitude manifest principally by the fact that the back of the stores were to the road. Odd. Anyhow, the food was excellent, the owner was hanging out by the bar chatting people up, and all the people I eavesdropped on were having truly fascinating conversations. I will go back there, with Girl Sr. The only downside was that in such a tiny place, a $25 bill felt really, really big. A $4.95 salad and $2.45 diet Coke, on top of the $15 sausage and pasta dish, will get you there in a heartbeat.
The third place (is it clear to the reader that these meals were had on successive days, not one immediately after the other?) was a little Thai place located two storefronts down from the excellent Italian place. This was a really good one. The staff all seemed to be about one week off the runway. My server made me feel like I was flirting with her and making her nervous, but I assure the reader, in particular Girl Sr. if she is reading this, which she is not, because my wit, musings and life wisdom don't amuse her as much as I have convinced myself I amuse most others, that I was not. There is a special category of restaurants that have nice decor and table service, but also bring you a glass of ice and an unopened can of diet Coke, for you to open and pour yourself, when you order a diet Coke. It's a "sweet spot" in the food industry, in my opinion. I ordered my dish (a peanut curry with chicken) and she asked (blushing) how spicy I wanted the dish. I told her medium, and she said, as if from rote memory, "Our medium is very spicy here, is that OK." I nodded and smiled aggressively, hoping not to display any of the nugget of fear she had planted inside of me.
The meal was incredibly spicy, and delicious. I filled my plate twice from the service portions and felt like I was inhaling it. My nose ran, my eyes watered and my mouth hurt. But the flavors surrounding the spicy heat were so excellent, I did not want to stop. I eventually called it quits and brought the leftovers home. The leftovers are a conundrum... I have them now from the Italian place and the Thai place. Both meals were excellent and should reheat well. I look forward to them. But I don't want to stop the tour/ search for more good places to eat. I only have so many evenings to press on in this quest.
Oh, the ammo comment... has nothing to do with the spicy meal. I went to the firing range on the way home. Got a little "wild" and reloaded and fired all three magazines once after finishing them the first time, for 78 shots total. Took shots at 25, 20 and 15 feet. Nearly all hit the target, and I had better control than in the past, but still not anything stellar. I fired one magazine of hollow tips, just to see if they feel different. I was actually more accurate with them for some reason I can't figure out. They have a bit more of a pop than the range ammo. Should check the powder details on the boxes. In case there was any doubt, it is clear they don't open or spread much in transit or when hitting a mere paper and styro-plastic backing... they left holes no bigger than the range ammo does. As you'd guess, they must spread open only on impact with something that gives meaningful resistance.
This time, the tour began at a Chinese buffet just down the road. I had been vaguely aware that it existed, since it is -- like everything around here -- in a strip mall. This one happens to be just a few doors down from a place where you can get your empty ink cartridges refilled, which is something I have to do now since Canon no longer sees fit to sell the particular shape and size of ink cartridge I need for my old printer. Somehow, all of the foregoing shaped my expectations and first impressions of the Chinese buffet, which isn't really fair, probably, but it is what it is.
The Chinese buffet features a monstrous sign outside... gigantic red letters that say something like, "CHINESE BUFFET"... possibly 20 feet tall. If not for the fact that the sign faces north and is in English, I would think -- based on the size of it -- that it is intended to be visible from the Chinese mainland, to encourage timid Beijing-ites to go ahead and come on over to America, assured that there will be Chinese food available when they get here.
What can I say. The place was bigger inside than I expected. Possibly the size of a Burlington Coat Factory. It was obvious right away that I had *not* had the misfortune to stumble into a buffet restaurant that had a lot of flies, but it was also clear pretty quickly that I had had the misfortune to stumble into a buffet restaurant where the chicken was going to be of dubious quality and there would probably be a hair in something I ate. I dished up and returned to my table (one nice thing about buffet eateries, when you are solo = no awkward staring at the other guests while you wait for your food to arrive). The chicken came through, doing double-duty: it was not only of questionable quality, it also had a hair in it. I grabbed an orange for dessert, and hit the road. Damage: approx. $12 and a portion of my belief that mankind is inherently decent to one another.
The second place was a tiny Italian place that turned out to be really excellent. It was not only tiny, it was in a strip mall that was itself tiny, and that strip mall had a devil-may-care attitude manifest principally by the fact that the back of the stores were to the road. Odd. Anyhow, the food was excellent, the owner was hanging out by the bar chatting people up, and all the people I eavesdropped on were having truly fascinating conversations. I will go back there, with Girl Sr. The only downside was that in such a tiny place, a $25 bill felt really, really big. A $4.95 salad and $2.45 diet Coke, on top of the $15 sausage and pasta dish, will get you there in a heartbeat.
The third place (is it clear to the reader that these meals were had on successive days, not one immediately after the other?) was a little Thai place located two storefronts down from the excellent Italian place. This was a really good one. The staff all seemed to be about one week off the runway. My server made me feel like I was flirting with her and making her nervous, but I assure the reader, in particular Girl Sr. if she is reading this, which she is not, because my wit, musings and life wisdom don't amuse her as much as I have convinced myself I amuse most others, that I was not. There is a special category of restaurants that have nice decor and table service, but also bring you a glass of ice and an unopened can of diet Coke, for you to open and pour yourself, when you order a diet Coke. It's a "sweet spot" in the food industry, in my opinion. I ordered my dish (a peanut curry with chicken) and she asked (blushing) how spicy I wanted the dish. I told her medium, and she said, as if from rote memory, "Our medium is very spicy here, is that OK." I nodded and smiled aggressively, hoping not to display any of the nugget of fear she had planted inside of me.
The meal was incredibly spicy, and delicious. I filled my plate twice from the service portions and felt like I was inhaling it. My nose ran, my eyes watered and my mouth hurt. But the flavors surrounding the spicy heat were so excellent, I did not want to stop. I eventually called it quits and brought the leftovers home. The leftovers are a conundrum... I have them now from the Italian place and the Thai place. Both meals were excellent and should reheat well. I look forward to them. But I don't want to stop the tour/ search for more good places to eat. I only have so many evenings to press on in this quest.
Oh, the ammo comment... has nothing to do with the spicy meal. I went to the firing range on the way home. Got a little "wild" and reloaded and fired all three magazines once after finishing them the first time, for 78 shots total. Took shots at 25, 20 and 15 feet. Nearly all hit the target, and I had better control than in the past, but still not anything stellar. I fired one magazine of hollow tips, just to see if they feel different. I was actually more accurate with them for some reason I can't figure out. They have a bit more of a pop than the range ammo. Should check the powder details on the boxes. In case there was any doubt, it is clear they don't open or spread much in transit or when hitting a mere paper and styro-plastic backing... they left holes no bigger than the range ammo does. As you'd guess, they must spread open only on impact with something that gives meaningful resistance.
posted by Genki na Pengin at 8:32 PM
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