duck-shaped pain

So, I actually took myself out to dinner. Despite my love of going out to restaurants, it always takes a lot of thinking and pondering and stressing out on my part before I can decide whether to go or not. I always feel slightly guilty for doing so, because I can eat so much cheaper at home. The fact that I don't really have much money right now just made it that much more difficult to decide to go.

But I finally talked myself into it. The initial problem, after agreeing to finally go out, was deciding where to go. I originally wanted Thai food, but last night was the one night a week our only Thai restaurant is closed. So that was out. I thought about eating at the brewery, because they have good fish and chips [1], but decided against that, too.

So that's how I found myself going out for Japanese food. I love Japanese food, but I don't have it very often. My cravings for it are strong, but they only hit once in awhile.

We only have one Japanese restaurant in town, and it's where I first encountered such food and eventually learned to like it. It's not a great restaurant, and I've certainly had better Japanese food elsewhere [2], but it was adequate for my purposes.

I used to go to this restaurant a lot more, but my trip there last night marked the first time I'd been there since I moved back. I'm not sure why I hadn't been there recently -- I just hadn't felt like going.

I'd heard they were under new management, which could only be for the better (more on this in a bit). It seemed different when I walked in. They were playing Sinatra instead of the Japanese pop music they used to play, and the big stack of manga they used to keep by the door was gone, although they could have just moved it to some other location.

Those two changes, I will admit, were not for the better.

I sit down. Their menu is new, although many of their old selections and combinations are intact. The waiter shows up.

He is:

• Affable

• Knowledgeable

• Not obviously insane

The last one is particularly important. While the lady used to own the restaurant was pretty nice, she had no gift for choosing employees. This restaurant was well-known locally for featuring waiters who had only the smallest grasp on reality. An otherwise pleasant trip out for teriyaki would often be marred by your waiter forgetting your order, staring off into space for a few minutes while you were trying to talk to him, or disappearing entirely.

Two of these waiters stand out. One, who was more a dishwasher there than a waiter (although he waited on me a few times) gained much local notoriety when he started planting carbombs around town. One of them he set off in the parking lot under our so-called convention center, and I think it killed someone. That was creepy. The other one I remember was just spacey. He's also the one who would sort of disappear once in awhile. He's still in town, and I see him every once in awhile, walking down the street, talking to trees.

I also liked my waiter because he didn't smirk at me when I ordered tempura and California rolls, which are about the least Japanese Japanese foods on the planet. I always get crap from my other Japanese-food-lovin' friends because I like them, although the fact that a) I've actually been to Japan and b) ate everything weird I could when I was there tempers the teasing quite a bit. [3]

One very unpleasant dinner that I remember happened a couple of years ago, when I went out for Japanese food with some extremely distant friends. This restaurant was actually well-regarded for its tempura, and since I'd never tried theirs before, I was determined to do so. Anyway, these extremely distant friends were completely aghast that I was ordering tempura. "After all, tempura isn't originally a Japanese dish!", one of them said. (It was introduced to Japan in the 16th century, which makes it nearly Japanese enough for me). They were ordering much sushi, which I also love, but I was just awestruck by their gall.

It was awesome tempura, by the way. It was better than what they had -- sushi in Colorado is always sort of suspect, anyway. I mean, we are 1400 miles away from the ocean. There are serious freshness limits involved.

So, tempura and California rolls. I wanted both, very badly. Anyway, I figued no one would care since this restaurant tends to attract people who are just the tiniest bit scared of Japanese food. I couldn't see any of the other diners -- I chose a seat where I would be isolated from everyone else [4] -- but I could overhear bits and pieces of Japanese-food anxieties.

Anyway, it was a good meal. I hadn't had miso in awhile, and remembered how much I love it, so I'm going to go buy some today, at the natural food store. [5] The Cali-rolls were also excellent, much better than the ones at the other restaurant in town that makes them. Those are made out of "sea legs" or "krab", where the ones at the Japanese restaurant have real crab in them.

I should also mention that I am lame, for last night was the first time I've ever really noticed that California rolls have AVOCADO in them, which is my least favorite food of all. I don't know why this escaped me before, but it really didn't bother me too much when I thought about it. I guess having one food I like with avocado in it is one more step on the road to normalcy. Now, if it had been cantaloupe instead... [6]

The tempura was good. I got four shrimp. This restaurant may not be the best Japanese restaurant in existence, but they do make good tempura. Bad tempura is about as bad as food can be. They included eggplant with my vegetables, which was nice. Eggplant is rare in tempura, probably because it soaks up too much oil. This eggplant was done very nicely, though. Plus, sweet potato!

So, all in all, it was worth the money. I tipped about 30 percent, some for good service, some for not being a scary bomber type, and left.

After the restaurant, I went to MacFrugals, the store full of rejected products. I go here every once in awhile, to find weird items, mainly involving food. Most of the exhibits in my Gallery of Disturbing Foods (located on top of my fridge) came from MacFrugals. The place is full of things nobody wanted, sizes nobody needed and various other sad things.

So, while I didn't find anything worth buying, I did find:

• NHL Shampoo

• Mole in a Jar [7]

• "Vegetarian Paradise" food-shaped magnets, where one of the magnets is shaped like a FISH

Then, I went home and watered the lawn.

[1] The best part about their fish and chips, besides the fact that they taste good, is that they bring you the malt vinegar without you having to ask for it. This is an important consideration when rating fish and chips, because you can't really eat them without malt vinegar. One time, I was eating at a restaurant in Hood River, Oregon, which had fantastic fish and chips. But when I asked for some malt vinegar, the waitress just looked puzzled and said she didn't know what I was talking about. "We have red wine vinegar -- will that do?" No. On the other hand, another Oregon establishment, McMenamins (actually a group of restaurants rather than just one) has malt vinegar out on all its tables even though it doesn't actually serve fish and chips.

[2] Like, in Japan.

[3] I guess this is as good a time as any to tell the Pea Jello story. When I was in Japan, I ate many things. There was only one thing I couldn't eat -- Pea Jello.

When we were in Kyoto, we walked around, looking at temples and shrines. One of the temples had a snack bar with snocones, so we gladly sat down and scarfed some snocones. My Japanese friend who we were with went over to order something. She brought it back with a smile on her face and presented it to me. "You can't ask me what it is until after you eat it," she said. That should have been my first clue.

It was a pea. Not a real pea -- a pea enlarged and improved upon by food science. The "shell" was about five inches long and made of marzipan or something like that. Inside were enormous "peas" made of gelatin.

The process of making these peas consists of drying the peas, turning them into powder and combining them with Jello. No sweetening is ever involved in this process, so these "peas" taste exactly like peas, only bigger and jigglier.

Have I mentioned that I don't like either peas or Jello? That's the important part.

They were absolutely disgusting. I can't even begin to describe my Pea Jello nausea. I couldn't eat for the rest of the day, because everything I ate or drank tasted like Pea Jello. I had scary Pea Jello dreams for weeks. I still shudder just thinking about it.

[4] So I that I wouldn't be stared at because I was eating alone, and writing in my journal while I was eating alone. You never know what kind of looks you'll receive for that.

[5] As opposed to the Asian grocery. We used to have a semi-decent Asian grocery, but the woman who owns lit let her son open up a car stereo dealership in the same space. It turned out to be a more successful business, to the square footage of the building devoted to Asian food decreases every month or so. Anyway, the woman who runs it won't stock Pocky because she thinks it's "creepy."

[6] My other least favorite food of all time.