belly mambo

My food issues of the previous entry have been abating in some way, which is a relief. I adore and love food and I hated the idea that I might have to subsist on a diet limited to yogurt, caramel malts and oatmeal with so much milk added that it was more like soup.
Thursday night I had to pick up David after work in northeast Minneapolis because of a bus aid scheduling something or other. We were up on Central ave, one of the best kept secrets in town. On Central ave you can eat food from all over the globe. There’s not just mexican food but authentic food from the state of Chiapas, there’s Ecuadorian, African, Indian cuisines from various states in India, Middle Eastern, Ukrainian….everything. We decided to get a quick dinner before he had to head out to teach his class and I was feeling optimistically hungry. We wandered a few blocks and weighed our options. The Chiapas place seemed inviting, but we do eat a good deal of authentic mexican as it is and the special was pork in chili verde which I almost always get and we needed to eat something new. A little more wandering brought us to Crscent Moon, the Afghani bakery/coffee shop/restaurant.
I had spent a week unable to eat anything more solid than water and I decided to make my first real excursion into the world of solid food by eating the food from a nation with a history that includes nothing but violence, anger and hostile takeovers. From Alexander the Great to the Soviets to whatever the fuck is going on there now, these are not a people with a rich history of trust falls and campfire sing alongs. Hell, considering the paintings on the walls of the restaurant, i’m led to believe that the national past time is a sport wherein many men get on horses and ride around and whip each other and slap each other in the face. The winnder is determined not by who slapped the most people or who rode the fastest, but the winner is usually whoever ended up invading the country while they were busy slapping each other.
I really want to make some joke about invading my dinner or being invaded by my dinner, but….i’m really NOT that painfully lame.
We perused the menu, I got me some lamb kourma and a sheer chai. I’d never had Afghani food, so I was not entirely sure what to think. First off, I wet myself twice at the chai. It was so loaded with cardamom I about died and went to Afghani heaven (which I am sure I would not be allowed into on account of all my evil ways). I’m a little cardamom whore. I’d be okay with only ever drinking that chai for the rest of my life. When we got our dinner I died all over again. Afghani food seems to be the much loved offspring of Indian and Middle Eastern cuisines. I was able to eat a little less than half my meal before being overwhelmed by the urge to spit, shit, vomit and die.
All in all, it was the most I’d been able to eat in a week and I was thrilled.
I jumped back in the eating game in the most horrific way
Friday: 2 servings of lasagna, salad and bread along with cake at the SMT volunteer thank you dinner that I went to as David’s guest
Saturday: an entire cantaloupe for breakfast and pizza rolls for dinner
Sunday: a giant breakfast of eggs, potatoes, sausage, toast and a pancake and then 1/2 pund of carrots for dinner.
I’m back in the game and ready to put on 20 pounds!