Meat, meat, meat

So, I think that I may begin a photo-essay of meat sections in local St. Louis grocery stores.  A visual anthropological - social exploration of the intersection between 1) economics 2) cuisine and 3) neighborhood community. 

For example.  Same grocery chain, two different locations. 

1) Ground turkey breast, lamb (ground, chops etc.), decent parts of the pig and cow.  Decent as in - not guts.  Your standard organic/angus ground beef with all the range of fat percentage from 80 to 93.  Chicken breasts, lots of them. 

2) Tripe, pig trotters, an entire smoked meat section, the fattest-loveliest cuts of pig steak and beef steak I've ever seen, 1/4 (of a cow) slab cuts of brisket, 5 pound packages of ground beef (60-73 percent fat, no extra lean on display here.  Let's be honest, not even vaguely lean on display here.).  Lamb - nope.  Ground turkey breast - nope.  Poultry breast bits in general are not the majority - more turkey thighs and chicken thighs then you can shake a stick at. 

Hmmmmm.  Let's see - what kind of neighborhoods do you think these two different stores serve?  You'd probably be right. 

I've got to start dragging my camera along on these adventures.  I know I know.  We live in a visual culture now.  Reading is too hard.  Tough (for now). 

A Payback is owed

So, all of you out there that have been salivating at my eating St. Louis cuisine will be repayed in full. With pictures, mind you.

I owe somebody something. Om nom nom, as they say.

FYI (not meaning to offend anyone), but I miss the good old days when commies were commies and we were renegade proud democrats. I mean the Olympics just don't have the same oomph if I can't surreptiously root for the 'other side'. I had a platonic crush on Katarina Witt. (I was always more of a winter voyeur). I hated her for defeating Debbie for the gold at Sarajevo, but spent several hours post-broadcast attempting to recreate on dry land her skater-ific Carmen.

1984 Los Angeles. It was momentous because it followed the non-appearance of our nation in 1980. And it was always about the Eastern Germans. But, really - consider what that really means. We were traumatized athletically by communists from a very small country. Many of them from half of a city. Half of a city. Politically and Historically important, but still . . . small, really small.

And we've never really reconciled our national fascination/distruct of Bella Karyoli. And Nadia . . . there is still no competition. But when Mary Lou hit that vault landing, it was thrilling. My parents had moved a mattress downstairs in front of the tv (thank god for their forbearance and patience with my antics) so that I could bounce along. I still prefer Nadia's stoicism to any perky americana, but she was the 'enemy'. In the end, I still say Go commies - but that's beside the point.

Final Thought: Is Michael Phelps not human? He just set the pace for some sort of crazy world record setting relay - like 5 secs under the current world record. He's 5 gold medals for 5, ALL OF THEM WORLD RECORDS. Wtf.

This is it.

Today in the mail I received a postcard. A postcard of destiny.

From Imo's pizza. The 'original st. louis style' pizzeria. Serving it up real style to the fine folks of St. Louis.

But, darn, cracker-crust and provel don't come cheap. A medium two topping is 9.99. And it goes up from there.

I'm tempted to order. Yet - shucks, I just put a pot of chile verde on the stove. I guess I'll just have to wait.

But time is not on my side. The postcard says that I only have until Sept. 30 to take advantage of their offer. For now, it is an offer I can refuse.

tick tock tick tock

Today. A Day like most other days.

I'm beginning to believe that I live in some strange land where everything takes twice as long. A fairy land of 'hurry up and wait.' Or, maybe this is just midwest living?

I spent a lot of time on the phone today with lots of different people to try and fix my internet. Its not really fixed, but the consensus seemed to be 'well, if that's the way it is. that's the way it is.'

Also, my on-again, off-again relationship with Charter is . . . on-again. This time its the crazy-making buzzy hum that emits from my tv, but only when I'm watching cable.

And I still have water damage, and no word on when 1) roof will actually be fixed and 2) when yucky icky stainage on the walls will be a thing of the past.

Did I tell y'all about Mortimer? He was the cockroach I killed the other night. A bloody huge one. I measured him post-mortem. 1.5 inches of buggy carapace. Antenna another 2 or more inches.

Sigh. Its enough to make a girl miss southern Italy. The weather was actually nicer in Naples. And the pizza was tasty and cheap and not 'snot on a cracker'. And everyone expects everything to take twice as long, so you can be pleasantly surprised when it doesn't. And even tho' there was garbage - I never saw a cockroach/rat the whole two weeks (a better comparative average than the two weeks here.)

Oh, and not to be all complainy - but my shuttle bus is kind of scary. Like there was a crack or meth addict on it this morning (with sores), and on the ride home (at 11:30 am) one nice lady had already gotten her drink on. Mmm, yessir. I don't think I've ever smelled public transportation so redolant with spirits. At least, I am willfully hoping that it was the lady and not the bus driver.

It takes a village

Today I went to the grocery store.   It became an adventure in community trust building.  

1) For the record, the temperature outside with humidity is something like 101. 

2) That humidity could crush a bear into little bear bits. 

3) I missed the first shuttle bus. 

4) I had to go to the nicer Schnuck's (note for non-St. Louisians, this is equivalent to Shaws or Safeway or QFC or Stah-market)

5) I missed the shuttle bus. 

6) So, up pulls a nice SUV with Debby - the nicest person ever !!  Seriously.  She picks up a stranger on a realllly hot day and drives me home.  Yes, this was not necessarily the smartest move on either of our parts.  But - I no look gift SUV air conditioned ride to my house in mouth (whatever that would be). 

7)  I get out of car and nice Quadrangle housing guy rushes over to help me carry groceries to door. 

8) Then nice next door neighbor makes point of holding and propping door. 

I'm sure this is all a heat-induced mirage.  I am probably lying on the side of the road halfway home, having started out and then fallen prey to the heat.  I've probably eaten my pork loin roast raw and am now crawling pathetically along the searing sidewalk trailing my groceries as a I go.  Debby probably doesn't exist.  The Quadrangle guy is probably someone stealing my groceries as I crawl.  I can't explain the nice next door neighbor. 

All I can say is - what a lucky girl am I .  And thanks to all those that made the homeward bound leg of my grocery journey pleasantly eventful. 

Surprise St. Louisian Celebrities (see told ya)

I live a block off the Delmar Loop.  The loop contains amongst many other things the St. Louis Walk of Shame . . . I mean Walk of Fame. 

Here are a few tantalizing tidbits.  Bet you didn't know the following were St. Louisians: 

Josephine Baker 

Vincent Price 

Joseph Pulitzer

Marlin Perkins 

Kevin Kline

There are more.  I just don't know them / haven't crossed the street yet (yeah yeah, I'm working on that). 

Maybe tonight I'll try a St. Louis Pizza.   Ha ha. . . or maybe Thai food.

Ahhh, how sweet

Charter Communications sent me a Hallmark Greeting card.  A sort of "Sorry, we love you, we won't abuse you again" kind of business card.  Do I take them back?  Do I repeat old patterns? 

On the front a man dressed in business attire and a blonde girl-child in pink shorts do the hullahoop side by side.  Caption reads, "Wishing you time to enjoy what matters most".  What if my husband and child (blonde girl-child perhaps) had both been killed in a tragic accident involving a circus clown, a lion and a hullahoop.  Wouldn't this have sent me over the edge.  Or what if the business guy is stalking the little blonde girl-child . . . ewwwww.  

I guess I'm not a fan of the Business Hallmark Greeting.  

Coming up next (like right next, like now): Surprise St. Louisian Celebrities 

Sticky

It is hot.  Outside, that is.  Inside, I've decided to give in and crank up the AC.  

It is 90 degrees.  More like 700 degrees when you factor in the sticky moistness that is humidity. 

Supposedly the mercury is going to rise.  

I need to do laundry.  But that would mean I have to go outside. 

I need to get groceries.  But, again, outside.  I don't need fresh fruits and veggies anyways.  Right? 

I can always order me up a pizza.