I'm a lasagna boy!

Miss Van on Fillmore

I was not a little surprised and pleased to see a door panel decorated by Miss Van on Fillmore St.. The coquettish girl is a familiar trope in Toulouse and Barcelona, and Miss Van had a group show in Los Angeles. How have I walked past this for the past six weeks!? I've stopped in the shops on either side of the door-way, waited for a bus, and gossiped with passers-by, but did not see the graff until this afternoon. Have I been asleep?

Miss Van on Fillmore

I was not a little surprised and pleased to see a door panel decorated by Miss Van on Fillmore St.. The coquettish girl is a familiar trope in Toulouse and Barcelona.

These are the people that you meet Pt XII

The frightening, curly-haired woman in front of us in the queue for coffee this morning turned around and screamed "boo!", but she really frightened us when she said she once "made a souffle, just to watch it fall."
The precious few waking minutes that Anna and I share on week-days we spend at the café. We see many of the same early-morning faces: the woman with the blue windbreaker, walking a handsome dog; the man who drives a pickup laden with ladders, and who sits outside to read and smoke a cigarette; the man with sideburns, who sometimes arrives on a motorcycle and sometimes in a van; the man who cannot control his yellow Labrador, the dog invariably following him inside with its tail wagging.

The view from the stoop

Ismail Merchant

The first day I cut school was in ninth grade, ostensibly to watch a video-tape of A Room With A View.
Ismail Merchant, one half of the team that made the film, died yesterday. A noted patron of the arts, cook, and producer, he epitomised high-low film-making.

Drink before you're thirsty

The time-honoured advice, "Drink before you're thirsty, and eat before you're hungry" indeed rings true. On a day as warm and sunny as today, when I, sudoriferous as ever, found that construction on that nice long bike-friendly stretch of Cañada Rd. means delays of as long as 20 minutes while a pilot car (bearing a sign with the legend "Cyclists do not pass") slowly leads traffic in one direction, and then another, delays due to a drainage upgrade (if I read the sign correctly). I had not been on that stretch of road in three or more years, even though my commute takes me quite close to it. I think that if I ride vigourously (20% faster: 18 kph, rather that my usual 15) I might complete this ride in three-and-a-half hours, which is only slightly longer than the usual commute. I need to leave home around 6.30, in order to avoid the construction delays on Cañada, which begin at 9.00; and this should also steer clear of the rush-hour of walkers and rollerbladers on the Sawyer Camp Trail.
... of course, I always feel more ready to ride when the weather is as glorious as it has been this week. Last week's riding was quite muddy and damp.

Useful in treating sewage and for roasting nuts.

Another victim of California's voter-driven legislation: warning labels on foodstuffs that contain acrylamide. According to the FDA testing, arrowroot cookies have high levels of acrylamide. ... so do potato chips, butter crackers, and french-fried potatoes.

One Less Fixie

Seeing as how, as part of my "one front wheel" scheme, I have sold the stock Bianchi Pista wheels, I needed to sort out the replacement wheels. Birthday-boy jimg supplied two washers to accomodate the thin fork ends of the Pista (he compared them to the substantially-thicker Sub-11 fork-ends on one of the frames hanging in the workshop, and I realised that the Pista is a poseur bicycle indeed): these washers enabled the 120mm Phil flip/flop rear wheel to fit securely on the Pista. The front wheel, however, posed another problem entirely: the tyre, stiff as an leather saddle, refused to seat on the rim. One vise, two tyre-irons, and several sore hands later, it was in place, but we managed to puncture the inner-tube in the process. I suggested shelving the works until daylight: I'll ride either the Reparto Corse or the Kogswell tomorrow. I did sell the wheelset for a fistful of dollars and a nice "One Less Fixie" sticker, which I suppose would look perfect on a car (ah, yes: the web site advises "these really look best on your h2").

If I had this bike, I would eat more pizza from Arinell:

P.S. I love chain-guards.

Miscellany about bicycles

Yesterday I took stock of the bits and pieces of bicycle scattered through the house, workshop, and storage rooms. I wonder whether my "one front wheel to ride them all" approach will work: a low-flange Phil Wood hub, laced 4x to a box-section MA-3 rim. Beautiful, simple, and strong. I couldn't fit the tyre onto the rim, though, so I was happy to unearth the old pair of Suntour Sprint road hubs laced to older Mavic rims. I threw one of those onto the Kogswell and rode off this morning, only to see, by morning's light, that the tyre on the front was agèd to the point of rot. Nevertheless, with good fortune I made it all the way to work without incident.

At Mahayana (aka Salon des Biciclettes, a proper bike shop), where I picked up a length of Velox rim tape yesterday, I always get a chuckle out of the sticker on the side of the cash register: I park in bike lanes, like a dumb-ass. We always joke that we should print up a batch and slap 'em on cars parked in bike lanes. I'd run out just on the way to Civic Center, I swear: there are always so many dumb-asses idling in the bicycle lanes on Market between Van Ness and Eighth.

What part of a horse is that, anyway?

A day-old baguette and a soft cheese constitute my dinner. The cheese container had a label in French, German, and Dutch, but I couldn't make out the flavour from any of those (and am not quite sure why I bought it, other than the illustration on the sticker looked appealing). Now I know that raifort means^* 'horseradish' and that is a very odd thing to put into a soft cheese. I do, however, fondly recall a horseradish cheddar I ate a few years ago. From Wikipedia:

It has been speculated that the word is a partial translation of its German name Meerrettich. The element Meer (meaning 'ocean, sea') is pronounced like the English word mare, which might have been reinterpreted as horseradish. On the other hand, many English plant names have "horse" as an element denoting strong or coarse, so the etymology of the English word (which is attested in print from at least 1597) is uncertain.

^*(Oddly, Google could translate from the French into the German, and from the French into English, but not from German into English.)

BIM

I can hear the pleasantly monotonous voice of the Viennese light-rail system's electronic train announcements: "Mariahilferstraße ... Westbanhof". But, my word! their web site reeks of a fat government contract with no oversight. Much more straightforward and functional is this Flash-based timetable. The sound effect is quite nice, too!
Web sites notwithstanding, Vienna's trains and the service are magnificent, and apparently carry small cargo flats as well as passengers.

Waller and Fillmore

Just a few weeks after workers tore out the ersatz Picasso mural(e)s, the storefront at the corner of Waller and Fillmore boasts a new design: Cafe du Soleil. A young boy was splashing red paint onto the concrete threshold this afternoon when I walked past. A man -- Mustapha Akhou, the managing partner of this shop? -- spoke from inside the door and told me that the café will open on Tuesday morning at 7, and stay open 'til 10, 11 -- "as long as there is demand". And tables will be placed outside, on the broad and sunny sidewalk on the north side of Waller. This café is another in the rapidly-expanding chain begun by the Boulangerie on Pine, near Fillmore. That shop had a certain je ne sais quoi, but now that one finds that shade of blue everywhere -- just so! -- the ridiculously high prices become less interesting. Rigolo on California and the café in the former Tassajara Bakery on Cole are also part of this enterprise, as is another sandwich-and-salad shop downtown. Pascal Rigo, the man behind Bay Bread and all this Francophilia, also runs a handful of restaurants (Chez Nous, Cortez, Petit Robert ... the list goes on) in San Francisco.
No word on why the Movida Lounge closed down. Perhaps their vision of being the wine bar where everyone waited for their table at Thep Phanom and the Indian Oven across the street never materialised? The several times I stopped in, the tables were humming but never crowded.
As for the Café de Soleil, it will continue to serve sangria, but not any hard liquor. The chalkboard inside listed a long list of bieres à pression, and the pretty counter-top had racks waiting to burst forth with buttery pastry and tasty sandwiches. Just like all of Rigo's other shops.