Brookswords

East LA Gold Line Party

Had a fun Sunday riding the rails for free--no, I wasn't a hobo for a day, hoppin' train cars; I took advantage of all-day free rides in celebration of a LA's new extension of the Gold Line (a subway/street-car mix), which is servicing--at long last--East LA. (A rail line into East LA vanished about a half century ago, and it has been sorely missed.) There was a  real party atmosphere, heightened by great music and food. Everything went very smoothly on the new trains, despite the fact that whenever the brakes were hit, crowds of people scrunched together would then fall on top of each other; this only resulted in laughter, not injuries. One odd ,glitch, though, involved the strange disembodied voice announcing each stop--which were Pico-Aliso, Mariachi Plaza, Soto, Indiana, Maravilla, Civic Center, & Atlantic. Unfortunately, the voice was getting them all wrong. Minutes after boarding at Mariachi Plaza, the voice said 'next stop, Mariachi Plaza'. Befuddled passengers asked, "Did the train turn around?" At the next stop the voice said 'Now arriving at Atlantic' (which was actually 4 stops away). One gleeful passenger exclaimed, "This is one fast train!". Here's a sampling of the day...particularly the food:

99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall...Makes a Table!

    In what I guess is an unfriendly move away from recycling, this website shows how you can turn all the empty beer bottles that are strewn on your floor--making a rough trip as you maneuver around your dwelling--into a table! Here, at the right, you can see the finished product, one very, very strange table. It'll certainly be a conversation piece--but what kind of a conversation, I'm not sure. It might even turn into an intervention.

    To top this off -- literally --you can go, as they say, 'over the top' -- you can decorate the table with beer bottle caps! 

Blasting Batter

Is this further proof that Americans can be quite clueless in the kitchen?  A few months ago I noted a  stomach turning dish that showed up in Chicago; now here is 'Batter Blaster', an invention that is so not needed.  But I'm sure this product can't be real; the 'commercial' seems similarly produced to another bogus--but enjoyable--ad. 

Chicago Blues

Chicago was finally recovering after Rachael Ray inflicted the 'Chicago Dog Salad' on an unwary country shortly before the 4th of July picnics.  Just looking at this culinary nightmare can eliminate one's appetite for hours--what city would appreciate being associated with this gastronomical train wreck?.

And now there's this; at the 'Taste of Chicago' food festival last weekend, food poisoning was so widespread that by now over 600 hundred people have reported that they were one of the unlucky chowhounds.  And of those that have been tested for food poisoning, Salmonella was usually the culprit.  A fewer number were hit by a variant called Salmonella Heidelberg--which can occur, apparently, when one eats dodgy chicken while wearing lederhosen.

Tamale Lady Blues No More

One of the things I like most about Los Angeles is that, in areas with a high Latino population, we have our street corner Tamale Ladies.   Rain (the two days of the year it rains here) or shine there they are, uttering their mantra, "tamales, champurrado...".

My Tamale Lady--where I catch the bus at Sunset Blvd & Echo Park-- disappeared this summer.  I missed her; she wrapped tamales & poured champurrado with phenomenal speed, knowing the bus could be right around the corner.  And what a sweetheart--twice I turned away, forgetting to pay her, but then remembered to.  But did she complain? No.  However, I've started to walk away without either the tamale or the champurrado (and sometimes both) & she called out "Mister, Mister!!" 

So...I do have a point I'm leading to...this morning, she was back!! I splurged, buying 3 tamales & a Champurrado.  Hallelujah!!

I hope I didn't forget to pay her...

Tamales & Newspapers

Before work, I ducked into a store that has tamales, bought one, then asked if they had the paper.  The lady at the cashier said, "Just a minute" and went to a back room.  Curious, I thought, that they'd keep newspapers in the back.   Finally she returned, without a paper, and said, "Sorry". 

I returned for more tamales at lunch and the same lady smiled when she saw me, left for the back room again, then returned with a man who shook my hand and said, "I'm Pedro--you wanted to see me?" 

When I said 'paper' they thought I said 'Pedro'.  Mystery solved.