Putting the Pig to Bed

As much as I have enjoyed writing this blog in its two incarnations, my life right now does not really include time for blogging. I will leave the old posts for archive purposes. Thanks for reading.

A Celebration of the Pig

There are plenty of reasons that we chose to move to Cleveland, but the first is food. We have been convinced of this again and again since we moved here.

Last night we went to dinner at Johnny Mango's, which is just a short block from our house. It is always busy, and rightly so. The food is excellent and the value is unbeatable. N ordered the jerk chicken, as did friend and neighbor J, and they were told it would take 1/2 hour to make it. This is reassuring. Served with rice, beans, the veg' of the day (pumpkin with yoghurt sauce) and bread and slather (hummus and pita) all for about 12 bucks is quite the deal. I got the flank steak with smoked jalepeno sauce, and the match was perfect as was the rare steak--I could have eaten it without teeth. Friend M got the chicken fried rice, which he said was very good too. Mojitos, Red Stripe, margaritas, and the always dangerous Christmas ale were imbibed. It was a great evening with friends, and even with the bevies, we had no worries because we all just walked home in less than five minutes. Nice.

Today we went to the West Side Market, our weekly trip to church, and bought all kinds of goodies. First we fortified ourselves with the best hot dogs in town at Johnny's Hot Dog stand, the oldest stand in Cleveland. N was chastized for getting hers with just ketchup while I was praised for the kraut, onion and mustard combo. The ladies at the counter there are great. We always get our coffee just around the corner from Johnny's at City Roasters and then get sausage at the next stall at Euclid Meats and Sausage. They always have an amazing array of sausages, and we have scored boudain and blood sausage and Lithuanian sausage and super-delicious bangers there. But today they had something I had never seen nor heard of: zelodec. It is a Slovenian sausage that is cased in pig stomach. They have it only near the holidays. Ladies and gentlemen, I am in love. This stuff is amazingly good, and you know me, the odder it is, the more intrigued I am. But when it is odd *and* great, well I just smile and thank my lucky stars.

And the lucky stars continued as we looked through the latest Free Times, a weekly free newspaper, and found that a restaurant in Little Italy is having A Celebration of the Pig. No joke. I just about fell out when I read it. And even better is that Michael Ruhlman will be there to sign his book Charcuterie: The Craft of Smoking, Salting and Curing, which is like a bible for sausage fiends. He has also co-authored The French Laundry Cookbook, The Soul of a Chef, and Becoming a Chef. Presumably he will also be there to eat the "exquisitely prepared pork dishes with carefully paired wines." So will we. I called up Battuto and said, "I would like to make reservations for A Celebration of the Pig." The woman on the phone said, "I love you." Wow, what a friendly city! Anyway, she said we were the first to make reservations and she was so excited about it. Of course, we cannot wait for that night!

Cleveland keeps trying to find ways to promote itself. Well, it is the City of Food, my friends. It is plain and simple. The people here love to eat and they love to cook, and the connections with the old world remain, as well as increasing connections to Latin America and Asia and Africa. It is the place to be foodies. You heard it here loud and clear.

Superior Pho

Hidden in the back of a building at 3030 Superior in Cleveland that also holds "Just Like Mom's" restaurant and a salon is Superior Pho. You have to wander through "Mom's" to get to Superior Pho. I've never eaten at Mom's, but it is Southern fare. The contrast (grits vs. spring rolls) is pretty strking.

The food at Superior Pho is also striking. We started off with the spring roll special (pictured) that was the highlight of the meal. The spicy special sauce was laced with peanuts and chile oil. The spring rolls we stupendously fresh with pork, sprouts, lettuce, carrots all wrapped in soft rice paper. Two were provided and two were lovingly consumed.

N enjoyed a pot of very floral, almost sweet, Jasmine tea while I loved the Young Coconut juice. The drink was so refreshing and the cocnut shreds were soft and tasty.

We both ordered pho (pronounced "faw"), the Vietnamese soup. N's came with brisket and tripe and mine had those two yummy bits as well as round steak and flank. The noodles were perfect and the broth was clean tasting with green onions floating at the edges. A plate of sprouts, basil, lime and peppers was delivered to accompany the hot soup.

On an early Saturday evening, it was packed with every kind of person. A good sign. Also good was out bill, which was very affordable for what we got to eat. The service was solid and pleasant, if a bit over worked.

Make the trip out there on the 326 bus and enjoy the food at the aptly named Superior Pho.

Why Cleveland?

As more people learn that we are moving to Cleveland, a frequent question that is either stated or indicated by raised eyebrows or questioning body language, is "Why Cleveland?" So, I will throw a few reasons out now and then to give some ideas about why we are heading there.

The first thing that hooked me on Cleveland was the food scene, and the mecca known as the Westside Market is just one reason (although a MAJOR) reason why we hope to live in Ohio City within walking distance of this place, which you can see at least one picture of here.

It is not all about food. There is also drink. How about the Great Lakes Brewery (you can even try their beer at Cafe Belwah in Beloit) and the Market Avenue Wine Bar, both of which are within 100 steps of the Market mentioned above. Not to ignore the past, there is also the Dunham Tavern Museum.

Can you tell me where the second largest performing arts center in the USA is located? Well, I am guessing you can since this post is all about Cleveland. Playhouse Square Center is something to behold.

Much like Beloit, Cleveland has been trying to figure out what to do for its economy now that manufacturing jobs are located mostly in other countries. Alternative energy is a biggie for them, and this is a symbol of it. Plus the Science Center just seems pretty cool (haven't been there yet, to be honest).

So, there are a few reasons. They just scratch the surface of the whys.

Happy Time

The sun is out. This pleases me. 'Nuff said.

Acceptance

Shockingly, after only one week on the market, we have received and accepted an offer on our house. The nearly 13 years we have spent in this lovely Craftsman-style home on our wonderful little dead-end street are coming to a close in exactly one month. It is hard to believe.

So now the thoughts turn to the quick turn-around on events. The upcoming inspection, which on a nearly 100 year old house will turn up plenty of nitpicks. The boxing up of stuff (there is no better word). The planning of the move (who, when, where, exactly?). The looking for the new house. The dropping off of the pups at family and friends' homes for the few days we are away in Cleveland. The trip to Manitoulin, hopefully. The work goodbyes. The neighbor goodbyes. The friend goodbyes. The family goodbyes.

My Dad evidently preferred "so long" to "goodbye," finding the former to mean that you will be back and the latter to be too lasting, but I held him to both when I was nine and never let that decision go until the goodbye was permanent. And I accept responsibilty for that, at least my end of it.

But it is hard to accept that there is just one month, just 30 days, just 720 hours, just 43,200 minutes left to get in all of the "so longs" and "goodbyes" and hugs and tears and smiles and laughs and last glances and the final sharing of space and time.

The Letting Go

As I am down to the final 10 days of my teaching career here at BTC, the letting go is beginning in earnest.

Today I posted in the Announcements on our class webpage an address for former students to contact me in the future since my email here will terminate at the end of the month, along with my health and life insurance, etc. I am always amazed at how many former students frequent the CST site as they have already started contacting me to ask where I am going and what I am doing.

Slowly, I am pulling some things out of the desk or off of the tan fabric walls of the cubicle, although rather slowly and quietly. There is time enough for the wholesale purging later.

The year-end get togethers will take on a different tone, of course, as these are BTC-career-end get togethers for me, and while I know I will keep in touch with the close friends whose desks I stand and chat at and whose grimaces I share at the lunch table, the truth of the matter is that most of the people here will never hear from me again, or vice versa. That is the way it works, even if you stay in town. When you leave town, it is even more pronounced.

The For Sale sign is in the front yard of the house, and it is surprisingly not bothering me. We have had quite a few walkthroughs already, and two more showings tomorrow. Our house has never been so clean so often in our 13 years there. When you get your house ready to sell, you spiff it all up for new people you do not even know and then wonder why you did not do so more often for yourself.

The neighbors all know we are leaving, and after the initial distress we have all settled down. It will get harder again when the moving day nears, whenever that might be, the day when we let go of the address we got mail at, the paint we brushed on, the plants we started from bare root, the hardwood floors we discovered under bad carpeting, the home we made, the life we had here.

Part of the cleaning is getting rid of the clutter, and attics and basements are amazing repositories of junk that you thought you could not live without. But you find gems too like my Dad's yearbook in which his guy friends wrote so many wonderful comments and his girlfriends all swooned on the page: "I am holding out hope that you will choose me. You are my ideal" and "To the tall, dark, handsome man with the most amazing blue eyes I have ever seen" and things like that. I can surely say he dated more women in a week than I have in my entire life. Had he been around during my high school years, I suspect that the mullet, the Gremlin, and the pot would have had to go. I lived in Wayne's World, and in that world, the girls are all imaginary. Jay's world would have been different.

For the family too, it is hard, if only just knowing that we will be seven hours away instead of one or because we will not be in the house we have been in since our daughter was an awkward 12 up through her transformation to her present graceful 25.

There is always buyer's remorse in any decision you make, and this one is no different. It is not easy to leave. But sometimes you know you have to even if it hurts. It's like letting go of your Mom's hand when you are heading to the school bus for the first time. Or letting go of that same hand when you are turning to walk to your dorm for the first time, and she is driving away crying. Or letting go of that hand for the last time before she is gone for good, and not knowing just when that was or how it felt for you. Or for her.

This time, I am trying to feel it. And it hurts.