Food porn, travel, and reading -- year end extravaganza

This is a very nice dinner J and I had out in mid December at Eclipse di Luna in Atlanta:

As you can see from the photos they choose to use on their website, it's a little business crowd Buckhead-y, but we didn't feel at all out of place in biking shoes and our normal (REI heavy schlubby) clothing. We had a halfoffdepot, but even without it, there was plenty of vegan selection, and the food was pretty delicious, so it was worth it.

It's been a veritable vegan food orgy in the San Francisco bay area: Souley Vegan in Oakland

is legitimately one of top ten favorite restaurants ever, of all time, no debate, no discussion. This is the "chicken fried steak" style tofu burger W got, which was insanely reminiscent of something you'd buy at Wendy's, yet actually tasted unbelievable. I could eat this every day.

And this is the before and after of my "choose 3" plate with aforementioned "chicken fried steak" style tofu, "mac and cheezy" and BBQ tofu. Res ipsa loquitor:    

This was the night after I had an INCREDIBLE (yes, J, it defied credibility) dinner with E & K at Burma Superstar in Alameda

In case you're wondering, those images are from the pedestrian "path" in the Posey Tube which connects Alameda and Oakland underneath the water. It was a moderately unpleasant walk: loud as shit, and the path is only about 3.5 to 4 feet wide, so had any other pedestrians or cyclists needed to pass me while i was walking precisely ten minutes from one end to the other, we would have contributed to the weird soot wipe-offs on the wall.

The only good shot I got of the Burma Superstar food is the fantastic fermented tea leaf salad:

I know, it sounds a little funky, but this was off the damn charts.

Then last night A and W and I had an AMAZING (yes, J, I was amazed) dinner at Gracias Madre in the Mission. In case you're wondering why I didn't link to the restaurant website, unfortunately, they're looking for a buyer and will be closing down. So figure it out and get there QUICK. The food is delicious. The only decent picture I got was of the "creamed" brussels sprouts and A's tamales:

Then today for lunch I tried to go to Gracias Madre's sister restaurant, also about to close, one of the Cafe gratitude locations, but it was packed to the gills, so I walked back into the Mission proper to Herbivore on Valencia.

When this super delicious seitan BBQ sandwich and the (!) vegan potato salad were one of the less astonishing dishes I've had in the last 72 hours, that's really saying something.

Okay, okay, enough with the food porn! (At least until I process and resize some more images.) Today on the Muni I added up all the books I've completed in 2011, and they amount to 3758 pages read (not counting the crappy ones I put down.)

Probably the best book I read: Mudbound by Hillary Jordan.
Probably the worst book I finished: The Tortilla Curtain by TC Boyle.
Totally not even worth reading more than a quarter of: Freedom by Jonathan Franzen. (Yep: sure, it was "witty" and "incisive". And also "profoundly mediocre" and no way I was going to read 576 pages of it.)

Another terrible picture of another delicious dish

This is the BBQ seitan sandwich at Herbivore in the Mission in San Francisco. Definitely not as good as Souley Vegan in Oakland (which is truly one of my ten favorite restaurants of all time) but very good nevertheless.

Xmas cheer. Sorta.

Twas the night before the night before Xmas, and all through the airport. Wait, that's not how that goes.

Here in Atlanta, it's the predictable scene: busy, frenzied travelers, bored, lazy TSA agents, and tons of kettles shocked that they have to remove their shoes. At the Sky Priority line, there was a dude never before seen, and likely never to be seen again, with a radio and a smile but no uniform, happily chatting up the 75 or so of us in the "priority" line, claiming "oh yeah, it's usually like this, maybe just a bit more for the holidays, but at least it's not out the door! It usually is!"

Ummmmmmm, no. It's not out the door, almost ever, at the south security checkpoint at ATL. What the hell are you talking about?

Okay, gotta go catch a flight. To sunny California!

Small Change

A emailed me this morning quoting a song from Tom Waits' album Small Change, which caused me to put this too-seldom played, incredible album on.

If you don't know it, I suggest you consider listening to the classic The Piano Has Been Drinking.

While I'm still getting used to blogger's new interface, I LOVE the new image interface, which to test, I uploaded this Mystery Picture taken near Alamosa, Colorado:



I love that you can now modify the images once uploaded by clicking on them to get a context menu.

The land? You'll be hearing more about it. Probably.

Blog Archive, by year

Sure looks like I had a lot of time on my hands in 2010. Sure didn't feel that way.

Always hit it with a hammer.

Well, so, that kinda sucked. But not quite as badly as it could have. Here's a long story about bikes, locks, and how I spent a couple of my hours last night.

It started when I rode my bike down to Whole Foods to buy some produce for dinner. My whip was the trusty Sitba. I locked Sitba up with my decade+ old Kryptonite U-lock, the combination model. Essentially an older version of this lock:

I've had it since long before I started law school, so... that's a while. No, it's not super high security, but I've long liked the combo lock, and visually it looks strong to non-pro bike thieves. In significant part, it's visual deterrence: a smart bike thief will skip over the U-lock and go for the cable lock most every time, unless they know bikes, and have plenty of time to spend on stealing.

From a user perspective, it's quick and easy.

Yeah, well, it's quick and easy until it gets stuck and you can't open it.

Basically, you turn the numbers to your combo, then push the button right to release the lock. The button was stuck. Really stuck. I tried and tried it, tried to leverage it with my bottle opener, tried every possible angle. No dice.

So I called J, who was riding home from elsewhere, and asked her to gather a bicycle liberation kit: the 4.5" angle grinder, extension cord, ear and eye protection. And kind of on a whim, a hammer. (Hey, why not, right?) And a printout of the spreadsheet I keep on the computer for insurance purposes, detailing our bikes including serial numbers, and hopefully the receipt for the bike. I also pull up a photo of myself on my phone with the bike, and if needed, once it's cut off, could pull out the seatpost and turn it upside down, and my business card (folded into quarters and taped) will fall out. Basically, conflict management with cops and security if J can't find the receipt or other clear proof I own the bike.

I then went in and explained to Employee A at customer service what I was going to do. Basically, make a big ol' loud hot mess right in front of their store. Employee A is totally cool with it: oh, and I can borrow their cutter, no, even better, she'll get someone to do it for me. I'm doubtful that they actually own an angle grinder in the store, but she gets Employee B, who clarifies that it's a set of bolt cutters, and he can't do it for me without me proving it's my bike, which I'm completely comfortable with, and it's kind of moot, since bolt cutters won't work anyway.

So Employee B gets Store Manager A, who is super sympathetic, agrees the bolt cutters won't work, and is highly enthusiastic about my angle grinder plan. Absolutely, anything he can do, of course I can plug in to their power outlet, yeah, sure! I say my wife is on the way, I'll let Store Security Guard A know when I'm about to do it. Sure! Great!

So I stand around outside for a while, keep messing with the lock, have a nice conversation with Homeless Guy A with a bike, who I'd given money to on my way in to the store. (I also gave money to another guy on my way out. Apparently good panhandler karma doesn't translate into good bike lock karma.) Homeless Guy A is chilling out at the outside tables in front of Whole Foods, which Parking Lot Security Guard A and Off Duty APD Cop A don't dig, so they hustle him out of there with a mix of fake friendliness and slightly cruel sarcasm. I glare from about ten feet away, but they ignore me. Probably for the better to avoid direct conflict, since I'm going to look like a bike thief in a few minutes.

J arrives, I go back inside and mention to Store Security Guard A what I'm about to do, and he's almost as enthusiastic as Store Manager A. (And doesn't bother to inquire whether I own the bike.)

First power outlet doesn't work, second one father away does, so while J is unraveling the 100' extension cord, I decide to bang at it with the hammer, mostly for fun. Two bangs on that nasty little button, and it opens up just fine.

So we collect our little middle class bike theft kit, I put the bike on the back of the car, and Store Security Guard A comes out to congratulate us, and tell us to have a good night.

The moral of the story? I dunno. Maybe that being a white middle class Whole Foods customer with power tools is a really effective modus operandi for being a bike thief? Or maybe: "always hit it with a hammer." Yeah. Maybe that.

Colorado beer, food porn, etc.

The important stuff, of course.

Our Colorado vacation included visits to four new breweries, as well as a return visit to an old friend, Wynkoop, and the previously posted Trinity Brewing Company in Colorado Springs.

San Luis Valley Brewing Company, Alamosa:

Denver Beer Company:

Strange Brewing Company, Denver, before:

Strange Brewing Company, Denver, after:

Tasty beer, and tasty food:

A terrible picture showing the incredibly tasty vegan buffalo wings, and a fun vegan poutine, at City O' City, Denver (sister restaurant to the always lovely Watercourse, where we had breakfast yesterday before flying out):

Unfortunately, they seriously upscaled City O' City and jacked up the prices. I'll still keep going for the wings, but it's a big disappointment.


We also did a fair bit of our own cooking when the hotel rooms provided for it. This is a pasta with fresh broccoli, green peppers, and fake chicken from Gardein. Tasty. The Full Sail Wassail and bourbon were nice too, since it was COLD. Like, really, seriously cold. -4 before windchill, with stiff winds.


This is at Root Down in Denver, which is fancy and somewhat spendy, but has some great happy hour specials (pdf), and all vegan items clearly marked on the menu. Vegans should make sure when they order the sweet potato fries (right) to get a dipping sauce other than the "Curry Lime Dunk" which has sour cream in it. Boo. The portobello slider (top) was tasty but a little too sweet, while the Edamame Hummus with fried wonton chips (left) was RIDICULOUSLY good.


This is a semi-artistic rendering of our drinks, including the $3 happy hour draft, Odell's Isolation Ale. J's Rosemary-Lavender Lemonade (left) was actually $2 more!


Root Down has these super cool "smart" toilets: after you do your business, you wash your hands in the sink on top, then it uses the gray water as the next flush. The only problem is that the temperature of the sink water is cold (granted, it's December in Denver) but it seems like this could easily be fixed by just plumbing it with warmer water.

And, since no good food porn post would be truly complete without: ONIONS! Before flying out, we knocked out a bunch of tofu and onions to make wraps:
Yes, it was a bit of a risk, since the last two times J and I have taken wraps through the ATL south security checkpoint, it has resulted in false positives for bomb residue. It didn't happen this time.

Incidentally, that's a Thomas Hardy 2005 in the wine glass in the background of the photo.

Okay, with all this blogging about food, maybe I should go buy some so we can have dinner tonight. Just food, though: here in Atlanta, we remain in the dark ages until January 1, 2012.

Denver Beer Company

Solid. Just, solid. The basic pale ale, Bunny Trail Pale Ale, is one of the best I've had in a long time.

Denver Beer Company

New favorite brewpub

At least in the top five: Trinity Brewing Company in Colorado Springs. Exciting beers, great people, shitty location, and some of the best vegan buffalo wings I've ever had.

Don't worry, A2, we're going to go update the vegan wings competition today at City O' City. We'll toast you!

J is a genius, again.

Toasting bagels with an iron for hotel room breakfast. (J gives credit to Top Chef for this surprisingly effective technique.)

Yep, we're rocking it super classy style here at the Cheyenne Mountain Resort, in the shadow of NORAD. Hey, it was Priceline, okay?

Vintage, indeed.

The  Vintage Resort Hotel  in Winter Park, Colorado. Putting the vintage back in vintage.

We sat in the outdoor hot tub last might when it was 4 degrees, then ran like hell for the indoor dry sauna. Priceless!

Google+ = SUCK, Part Deux

Following up on the preceding post, this asshat spamming me through Google+ is what led to it:

I still haven't figured out a way to block someone from my "circle" without first joining Google+. Lame. Suggestions welcome.

Well, I'll make it all feel better by going skiing in Colorado with J. We leave tomorrow. Yay! Time to pack.

Google+ = SUCK.

Dear Google+: here's the thing. I don't WANT you. I don't WANT social networking. I LIKE being un-networked socially.

Why am I yelling at you in public like this, ironically enough using your own platform (blogger)? Because people I don't know are adding me to their Google+ circles, then spamming me. And I can't block them without "joining" your goddamn service.

You fail.

p.s. Anyone know how I can block someone without joining? Please let me know!

Facebook, by Dinosaur Comics

I didn't find the comic today as incredible as usual, but the mouseover, above, was CLEARLY AWESOME.

Ubuntu, external USB hard drives, and .Trash:

And much frustration ensued.

Okay, it's like this. My computer has been giving me some trouble on bootup lately. Finding annoying disk errors that (maybe) aren't really there, not letting me try to fix them, etc. So I decided to do some work on it.

(in case anyone happened upon this through searching the webs and cares, I'm running Ubuntu 10.04 LTS Lucid Lynx; and the external hard drive pre-dates my generally very happy switch to Ubuntu, so it was initially used on a windows XP machine.)

Before starting said "work" I decided to do the smart thing and back up my important files to an external hard drive. Smart, no?

So first I went through the external USB hard drive (320gb), which had all manner of shit on it from many years of use, much of it redundant backups (like, say, "Acer laptop backup Nov 09", "Acer Laptop Backup June 10" and "important files from Acer laptop Dec 10", which a bunch of repetition) and started trashing things. Then clicked "Empty Trash". Presto!

Except ubuntu does this clever thing where it doesn't actually let you delete the files completely: it saves them in a folder called .Trash-1000. So something like /media/ExternalVolumeName/.Trash.1000.

This will give your dumb ass a second chance if you accidentally deleted something, then emptied the trash, and then changed your mind. Great, right? Sorta not, since it means that you don't recover the disk space.

So I kept trying to delete these nasty files. And somehow, somewhere deep in a dark hole, it created some sort of circular/redundant result, and kept trying to move the files to the trash. See this screen shot?


Remember that this is from a 320GB external hard drive, and it's the only other drive mounted on my desktop computer (which also happens to have a 320 GB hard drive, and no other storage.) So obviously, something is wrong when it's preparing to delete 1.7 terrabytes.

I finally got pissed off this morning and went with the nuclear option: since I'd already backed up the important files from the external drive, I fired up Disk Utility and reformatted the damn thing. And lived happily ever after. I think. Now I'm about to do a fresh new backup of files back to the external drive, so I can go back to the original problem. So we'll see if another followup blog post tells more tales of woe.

food porn, SPECIAL EDITION: VINTAGE!

Going through an external hard drive, and came across some cool VINTAGE food porn! Yay!

This is a bigass pan of potatoes, tofu, peppers, and ONIONS that I made for a camping trip that my brother S and his son D and I did in Alaska in summer 2008. It was delicious. Bears visited the cabin next to Eklutna Lake. I fell and got hurt riding my bike back to the car with the kid trailer for more firewood. I got towed by a guy on his four wheeler, got the firewood, rode back the approximately 2 miles, bleeding heavily, and S did excellent brother care: he found the vodka.


Here's a closeup of the potatoes, tofu, onions, and peppers. It was good stuff.

This is our grill in Anchorage with tofu steaks and seitan steaks. Yum.

This is that dinner, plated, with vegan creamed spinach and sauteed mushrooms.


This is a delicious fried tofu hot salad, with careful presentation. I have absolutely no idea when it's from.

Broadway bike time lapse

This video almost made me a little seasick, but it's still pretty cool: a time lapse from a helmet cam of a person riding all 13 miles of Broadway, south from the Bronx to lower Manhattan.

Vegan hotel room food porn

I know, y'all just can't get enough of this shit, can you?

The hotel is quite nice, especially with a jacuzzi and wonderful heated indoor pool. I love having tons of hotel points.

(UPDATE: I wish the camera on my phone didn't suck, since it's an awfully convenient way of mobile blogging. Sorry for the craptastic quality of a lot of the images.)

Vegan food porn, CNY Redux

Same as in  this post, this is the spicy tofu scramble at Strong Hearts Cafe in Syracuse. While the folks i'm working with have been great about accommodating my veganism, this was still a special treat this morning.

Back to ATL tomorrow, then J and I are presenting together (for the first time in years) in NYC on Tuesday about street medics. Pretty cool.

I'm a snot machine, but life is great.

Vegan Indian food: Syracuse!

The $9 lunch buffet at Samrat in Syracuse was AMAZING. The pickle was genuinely some of the best I've ever had. Wow. I stuffed myself at 2:30pm so extensively I couldn't even think of eating again yesterday.

Charlotte, NC airport: NOT HELPFUL

Third in a series.

The inside of the bathroom stall, where you have to use your thumbnail to lock the door.

Charlotte, NC airport: HELPFUL

Second in a series.

The DUI station is the bathroom, the only one I've ever seen.

Charlotte, NC airport: not helpful

First in a series.

A non-working flight status screen, and an asshole airport employee who wants to be a rentacop throwing me massive stinkeye for photographing it.

TSA = incompetent asshats

I know, I know: what y'all really want to hear about is my vegan sky club breakfast:
From top left, that's a screwdriver, a half-caf "espresso", and my spork from home in oatmeal with raisins in a compostable, 100% recycled cup. No indication that composting is available in the sky club, nor the amount of post-consumer content in the 100% recycled cup.

But I digress. As the title indicates, I mostly want to rant a little about how incompetent TSA is. Now, my rather dim opinion of TSA is known to readers of this blog. But they really outdid themselves at ATL this morning.

First off, the guy at the xray monitor: totally amateur hour. At least the slow, incompetent guy at Las Vegas the other day was clearly a trainee. This guy was, apparently from his uniform, an actual TSA "agent." I literally stood to wait to push my bags through the belt while he examined the monitor for several full minutes. To the point where I was laughing. To the point where the TSA agent at the metal detector was looking around uncomfortably, knowing this dumbass was holding up the line. To the point where they decided (not uncoincidentally, I think) to shut down the p*nis machine, aka millimeter wave scanner, because they had to dedicate all available agents on that lane to doing secondary screenings the dude on the monitor asked for.

Okay, so I finally get to get through, and stand there and watch while he looks all curious like at the monitor with my one carryon. He tries repeatedly to draw outline boxes with his mouse around the two danger areas: my sunglasses (which I've taken through, ummm, lemme see, EVERY SINGLE GODDAMN FLIGHT I'VE BEEN ON SINCE AT LEAST 2004) and my breakfast wrap. Yep: my tortilla with tempeh, caramelized onions, green beans, garlic, and vegan cheese. This very suspicious looking thing:

Okay, it's wrapped up in tin foil. One sheet. Like, ummm, I dunno, about FIFTY similar wraps I've taken through TSA in the last several years.

Okay, so he pulls the bag over to the secondary screening conveyor. Conveyors do not convey. I stand there for literally about 60 seconds looking at my bag, and finally ask if I can get it screened. The two nasty TSA agents in the next station literally yell at me: ONE AT A TIME! Oh, oops: there is a backup of THREE people needing secondary screening and explosives testing at my lane.

Okay, so I wait another several minutes. My line has... stopped. Nobody is going anywhere.

Finally it's my turn to get screened, and the guy goes through my bag. Asks about the sunglasses. Opens up the case, but not the bag they are in. Okay, fine. Asks about the wrap. "A breakfast wrap", I tell him. Okay, I just need to screen this for explosives. Ummm, sure. He screens it for explosives. AND IT TURNS UP WITH A POSITIVE RESULT.

So now this is getting fun. I actually am about to get the dreaded invasive patdown. They have to go through every single thing in my (rather innocuous, except for a shitload of vegan snacks, and an allegedly explosive breakfast wrap) carryon bag. Which is, incidentally, a Mountainsmith Day Pack which most of you who know me have seen before. No suitcase (I checked it), my liquids all properly compliant with that sillyass 3-1 rule, my laptop out, my shoes off. Oh, but they have to run my shoes again. 'Cause the first time wasn't enough, 'cause my breakfast wrap came up positive for explosives.

So the poor TSA agent at secondary, who I'm actually beginning to feel somewhat bad for, has to launch in a long, detailed explanation of all the places he's going to put his hands on my body. I actually needed a clarification when he got to the point of where his hands will be in my crotch: he mumbled, and I was genuinely interested. (No, he wasn't that cute, I just wanted to know what kind of fun time I was about to have.) He mumbled it again, but now I was pretty sure he'd referred to the top of my crotch as my "isthmus."

An isthmus, for those of you who are wondering, is "a narrow strip of land connecting two larger land areas usually with waterforms on either side." Thanks, wikipedia. Confidential to TSA: you should let your agents read wikipedia at work.

As he was explaining what he was about to do, and I'm openly laughing at the notion that my breakfast wrap tested positive for explosives, he's trying to show me through his body language and tone that he agrees it's kind of silly. He said something to the effect of "just so you know, this isn't my favorite part of the job." Yeah, pal: me, neither.

He has to call a supervisor over, who re-asks me all the same stupid questions he has already asked. Yes, it's a FUCKING BREAKFAST BURRITO. I told them they were welcome to open it up, or I'd be happy to open it up for them. I explained each of the ingredients in it, and started to go into detail about the cooking methods. The supervisor got a little nasty with me, so I asked her if she was hungry, and told her I'd share.

Anyway, the patdown was relatively uneventful. He tickled my armpits a little, and did, indeed, get marginally up into my "isthmus" but didn't actually grope me. And was very consciously and carefully (para)-professional about it. And slooooooooow. The whole fandango took about 15 minutes. Literally.

Yes, friends, that is, along with a pre-flight screwdriver in the Sky Club, why I try to get to the airport at least two hours early. So I have plenty of time to be fondled by TSA, whose stupidass machine says my breakfast wrap has explosive residue on it.

The TSA masseuse actually told me, sincerely, to have a safe flight when he was done. I thanked him. It's sort of not his fault that he works for a BUNCH OF FUCKING IDIOTS.

Fucking idiots. Fucking shitass equipment. Fucking ridiculous security theatre nonsense foolishness.

On now to Philadelphia, for which my flight is delayed due to ground holds. Gonna be a rainy couple of days.

Mmmmmm... vegan donuts

Why eat one, when you can eat a dozen? No, actually, not all these are for me. I'm on my way to a protest and vigil. Seriously.

Vegas

Ahem.

Thinking I might go to Komol tonight. A2, you should be here!

New Bike Day!

J got a new bike yesterday, a Mercier Kilo TT Pro. We need to get a singlespeed rear cog, since the flip-flip ships fixie, and she'll soon be ready to roll. 'Cause J is fierce, but even I don't rock the City of a Hundred Hills fixed.

UPDATE: J is SO DAMN FIERCE that she does, indeed, rock it fixed most of the time.

Too long

Heh. Only a couple of you get the reference in this post's title, but I'll keep it obscure. Simply said, it's been a while since I had a general information post, and I'm sure my loyal readership, all 5.38 of you, need some FOOD PORN!

And actually, check out the labels for this post: it has a little bit to please everyone! (food porn, travel, bikes, fundraising, onions, homebrewing)

It's been busy, but also pleasantly slow-ish (as much as I let myself take things easy, I have.) The fall protest travel season is on the near horizon, and I'm out of town every weekend in October, and at least three in November.

The travel starts with riding in the Wapiyapi Classic in Aspen next weekend, which I'm very excited about. (And which I'll throw out one last pitch for you to please consider donating, as I talked all about in this post.) I'll get invited to a pre-ride party hosted by Lance Armstrong and Anna Hansen if I'm one of the top 10 fundraisers, and currently, thanks mostly to the lovely and generous people who read this blog, I'm #8 9 (but by a thin margin.) Please consider donating: http://www.active.com/donate/wapiyapi2011, and type my name into the boxes at the top next to "Find a fundraiser to support".

Okay, okay, to make this worth your while, how about some images, including FOOD PORN, and ONIONS!

Due to popular reader demand, how 'bout some FOOD PORN, and ONIONS! Conveniently co-located with tofu, which almost deserves its own label on this blog, and featuring a visit by some freshly chopped sage leaves.

File this one under the "J is a genius" category. And not just at her chosen profession. So, our (apprimxtaley 8 or 9 year old) washing machine has increasingly been stopping mid-cycle. Basically, for no obvious reason, the lid got bent, and so the contact that tells the machine the lid is closed and it's okay to start spinning all the water out was regularly not engaging.

So I started feeling around in the works, and the craptastic plastic assembly literally started crumbling in my hands, out of sight. I pulled half a dozen pieces of plastic crap out, never again to be properly reassembled. I avoided dropping any of them in the washer full of water (clearly shown in the picture.) Oh, and I got lightly electrocuted.

Enter J's genius. And her small hands. She started feeling around, and determined it was basically a single crappy connection, and hypothesized (which fancyschmancy scientists do) that all we needed to do was pull it out, twist it together, tape it up, and stuff it back in.

I took this one level further easier, and proposed we just twist and tape it above the hole.


Which we did.

And it works a charm!


Non-sequitur #1: Grilling peaches, pineapple, and.... I can't really tell for sure.

Grilling peaches, pineapple, and pears!

No, those aren't vegan organic hand grenades. They're eggplants studded with rough-cut garlic and then baked, which infuses them in a truly extraordinary way to make baba ghanoush. Another shining example of "J is a genius."

Eating healthy. WOOT.

Drinking creatively, even if not, ummm, healthy. Friends and I did three all-grain batches yesterday, which was honeslty too ambituous, but I'd already smacked the yeast smack packs, so we'd have lost almost $8 if we didn't brew the third batch.

From left, that's a bourbon oaked imperial stout, then a spiced pumpkin strong-ish (7.7% ABV) ale, and a witbier.

I made an outstanding decision and didn't drive home after a long day of Rule #1.

Okay, need to ride to the library and drop off donations for Friends of the Library, then think about dinner. It'll definitely involve onions (I bought a ten pound bag today) and spinach (I bought 2 pounds of organic spinach.) Mission: cookbook shelf!