Grandma passed away almost a week after her 98th birthday. We all thought she’d live to be a hundred. But accidents happen and sometime they change everything.

After the doctors decided there was little they could do, she was discharged to my parents’ home to live out her last days. Thankfully all of her children were able to fly in to be with her, and for the last week of her life she was surrounded by her children and grandchildren. Few people are that lucky.

Since I returned from the funeral, I’ve been taking care of my grandpa and filling my mind and my spare time with a hodgepodge of hobbies: gardening and raising seedlings, trying to learn a song on an accordion, writing and mailing lots of letters. And when Woot offered up a $100 ice cream maker for $30, I took up ice cream making.

Prior to this, my one memory of making ice cream is me squatting in the breezeway of my grandma’s house, surrounded by the flow of extended family, squared off with an ice cream maker, staring in wonderment at the spin and the salts.

With Grandma gone, it’s important to keep those memories alive.

But I wish she were here to taste these homemade creations. I know she’d enjoy them.

So far my favorite is mint chocolate chip (Ingredients: heavy cream, whole milk, sugar, chopped dark chocolate, peppermint extract and green food coloring):

The runner up was last night’s creation. No name for it yet, but it’s a mix of cream, milk, soy milk , vanilla yogurt, lemon extract, honey and ginger:

Not nearly as creamy as the mint chocolate chip, but powerfully tasty and refreshing.

The other flavors tried turned out wonderfully, too: homemade vanilla, fresh strawberry, and sweet cinnamon (which tasted almost exactly like a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and milk, without the crunch).

But honestly, I bought the ice cream maker with I one flavor in mind: Thai red curry.

Curries are made with coconut milk and many of them are slightly sweetened, so why not make one into an ice cream? But googling the idea brought up this website: 101 Frightening Ice Cream Flavors From Around the World.

Undeterred by curry ice cream’s association with the likes of raw horseflesh ice cream, pit viper ice cream and deep sea water ice cream, I made my simple batch with three components: coconut milk, sugar and red curry paste.

It came out a pretty, pastel orangish/red hue, and surprisingly, tasted just like red curry (minus the chunks of meat and veggies). But the chill is unsettling. Curry is served hot and spicy, and this tongue-toasting, brain-freezing treat messes with the mind. All I wanted to do was nuke it and slurp the resulting soup along with a mound of rice.

I haven’t made any curry ice cream since, but now the challenge is to find something to balance this gustatory experience. Curry ice cream can’t stand alone, but it’s still disturbingly delicious. Maybe if I add some shrimp, some spring onions…bamboo shoots…red and green bell peppers…

On the way home, we passed an interesting sculpture chained to the sidewalk:

which reminds me of a fixture of the Lower East Side, The Knit Bike:

(photo courtesy of S. Rice)

Someone recently asked me what I like so much about NYC, and though the answer largely has something to do with car-less living and wide social acceptance from anonymous crowds, the proliferation of art and culture also tends to bend my affections. Especially when a large part of it is accessible curbside.

Oh, and there’s the food.  In one day of my stay I had gluten-free mac ‘n’ cheese (and I’m not talking the normal stuff; this was rice macaroni with rosemary, melted brie, roasted figs & roasted shitake mushrooms), gluten-free cupcakes (vanilla with strawberry topping & carrot cake with cream cheese frosting), and delicious gluten-free pizza. It was a whirl-wind of food my brain said I really really really shouldn’t be eating and though it took me practically until the end of the day to relax and enjoy the meals, I am nonetheless amazed at what is available! We topped off my stay with tacos from a Korean BBQ restaurant (fish and shitake tacos may sound bad but are actually excellent) and episodes from Cowboy Bebop, which I hadn’t seen in ages (not food-relevant, I know, but worth mentioning).

Although I didn’t get to ride Central Park, missed my pilgrimage to the Met, and never actually got to be in the city with Batman (we kept missing each other – he really needs to get a cell phone) I still enjoyed every moment.

Upon returning to Long Island, I intended to go for a ride on the less-traveled roads east of where we stayed, but after my week of what I hope is the closest I will ever come to a rock and roll life style (my sleep schedule upended, my skin inexplicably bruised, my feet scabbed from dancing shoes, my liver exhausted from booze and my lungs gasping from exposure to a city’s worth of second-hand smoke) I felt more than a little under the weather and decided to skip the ride. Plus, since I was staying with family out on Long Island, we had more pressing obligations to consume our time:

(As a family, we have learned that it is essential to find Joy wherever one can. Even occasionally at the expense of small, dignified – and hopefully declawed – animals.)

Before I had time to recover and consider another ride, it was time for me to fly home.  Bye bye New York.  With any luck, I’ll be back soon. Next time, hopefully with Batman.

And in the meanwhile, be sure to wish Bruce Campbell a happy belated birthday the Sci Fi Wire way:

Check out the website for more info, the above images and a link to PDFs you can print up and apply to nearby, unsuspecting soup cans: http://scifiwire.com/2010/06/four-labels-from-the-bruc.php

For Bruce’s more recent fans, commenter “brucefan” pointed out on the Sci Fi Wire page that the can labels should remind consumers to be careful when eating scalding-hot soup. Some kind of warning or perhaps a notice about the danger of getting burned…  (If you look closely, the Gumbo Ho-Tep label does include a health warning, but it bares no relation to a burn notice.)

(Photo by Terry Hutt)

And here’s the full team in their recently-arrived team jerseys:

Photo by IDKW

It’s strange to watch him prep for this from afar. I wish there was more I could do to help, but there isn’t. So, instead – since it is also almost Father’s Day – I’ve been spending my time searching for a Father’s Day Gift to give him when we see him at the finish line in Maryland. The problem is narrowing down the selection and that’s where I’m hoping that you, the readers, can help me.

Dad’s a diverse guy. He’s a computer nerd, a cycling geek, a mechanic & handyman, an avid reader, an avid eater, a music lover, a scifi fan and myriad other things, so I’ve tried to find gifts that appeal to these qualities. The categories are as follows:

COMPUTERS/COMPUTING

Binary “Dad” Shirt

Though this is probably the most appropriate of all the gifts for Dad’s Day, it may also be the most (obscurely) clichéd.

xkcd Sudo Shirt

Not particularly relevant to the holiday at hand, but I think it would still make him chuckle. Next category.

CYCLING ACCESSORIES

Universal Gadget Wrist Charger

With as much as he is on the road, this might be an interesting accessory. He’s finally jumped on the cell phone bandwagon, but I don’t know if he uses it enough to warrant an on-the-go charger … but maybe we could rig it up to a charger for this:

Helmet Cam

For all the times he gets run off the road, or nearly run off the road by passing cars, documentation could come in handy.  Plus, we’d get to see what it looks like to pedal a bike really really really fast without having to actually do so.  While brings me to the couch category:

MULTIMEDIA

Star Trek Next Gen Movie Pack

Granted, it’s a low-risk move, but you can’t go wrong with Jean-Luc. “On screen.” They have the set in Blu-Ray, but seeing as my parents don’t own a Blu-Ray player and still have beloved VHS tapes that get regular use I think DVDs are the good, middle-of-the-road solution where entertainment technology is concerned. On the slightly more advanced side, there’s this:

Barnes & Nobles Nook eBook Reader

Dad reads through books like fire consumes paper, so something like this would save him the trouble of carrying all those Bible-sized Neil Stephenson books on the bicycle. But since the Nook looks a little pricey, I checked gifts on the other end of the spectrum, too – the free end.

Hits from the 80s

And who wouldn’t love adding another 80s mix CD to their collection?  Right.

FOOD

Exotic Jerky

So this looked like a nice gift a father might enjoy … Then I came across this:

Bacon Moon Pie

Can anything compare? Marshmallow, caramel, chocolate and BACON. Wow. Four BMPs ship in the US for $33, or nine for $116. Plus, the recipe comes in the box. Now that’s what I’m talking about. Teach a man to fish and he’ll feed on bacon moon pies for a lifetime. A shortened lifetime, but a lifetime nonetheless. But, what’s a life without a little spice?

Jug o’ Tabasco

If the bacon and chocolate aren’t enough to cause some celebratory Father’s Day heartburn, there’s always a Jug of Tabasco to aid the process. Imagine how many eggs this would top! How many nasal passages this could clear! They even offer personalized gallons. Can’t help but think that this would make a wonderful gift for someone… But, I have to admit, Dad might be better off with a gallon of this:

Cane Sweeeet Iced Tea

“Dad, I slaved all day over a hot stove buying this free iced tea. Don’t drink it all in one place. Oh, yeah, Happy Father’s Day.” Perhaps it’s a little half-hearted.  But staring at this gives me a craving for sweet tea. I wonder if they will only hand this out to fathers… “No really, my dad is right around the corner. He sent me here to pick one up. Um, and so did my other dad. Yes, I have two. And they both want a Father’s Day gallon of tea. No they can’t share. Because it’s what they got each other for Father’s Day. It’s in lieu of a card. Yeah, neither of them are crazy about cards. I got them ties.”

Ideally I’d get him a lifetime supply of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups (then regularly sneak a few), but in place of that I might try this:

Giant Peanut Butter Cup

Wouldn’t last a lifetime, but I could probably make him one on a quarterly basis for a few years. Supposedly, Reese’s already makes the World’s Largest Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup, but it’s nothing Guinness would be interested in.

And the final category:

MISCELLANEOUS

Bendable Mr. Bill Figure

Actually, this should probably go under the Cycling Accessories category. I originally thought it would make for a good family joke – our first cat was named Mr. Bill (and my brother played Mr. Hand) – but on second thought, while riding across America it might be nice to have a companion who knows a thing or two about physical pain. The “Ohh nooooo!” would be appropriate on those long, steep downhill stretches too…

And that ends the list. Direct all comments and votes to me at ks.polk@gmail.com and if you know my dad and have a better suggestion, I welcome it!

A common problem with rice bread is it can be dry and grainy, kind of like corn bread (here’s a full scientific analysis for the *really* curious – there’s x-ray diffraction and calorimetry involved! Yay!), but the addition of instant mashed potatoes sounded like an interesting, feasible, affordable answer to that problem.

I made some substitutions the first time around – namely using almond milk on hand instead of the dry milk recommended and tapioca starch instead of potato starch flour (reckless substitutions, I know, but it was too late to go to the store, which wouldn’t have had potato starch flour anyway).

I also had some store-bought tzatziki in the fridge and threw in a couple tablespoons of that and one or two of mayo in hopes of balancing the thinness of the almond milk.  The loaf came out crumbly (like cornbread) but still very tasty.  Dad and I agreed it was like a lighter, softer, butterier corn bread with a bit of an herbal twist from the tzatziki.

It would have perfectly complimented a bowl of hot chili, so you can guess what went into the crock pot the next morning.

That afternoon I picked up some dry powdered milk and tried the recipe again, using the dry milk and adding a little more of the mashed potato flakes. The loaf was scheduled to finish in time with the slow-cooking chili and what a great combo they turned out to be!  The changes to the recipe made a huge difference.  The bread tasted nearly the same – full and savory – but the texture was so much smoother! The loaf came out with insides warm, buttery, soft and springy and with a slightly stiffer, almost pastry-like top crust.

I’ve baked this recipe several times in the past two weeks and rarely does the finished loaf last more than an hour or two, despite our best efforts to save some for the next meal.  How neat it feels to welcome bread back into my life. It’s been awhile since I’ve had normal wheat flour bread so maybe the memories have faded, but this loaf, for me, tops any bread I can recall.  If nothing else, it’s a wonderfully refreshing moment savoring those first slices of a warm, just-baked homemade loaf of bread.  Yum.

Here’s the modified recipe:

Rice Bread

Makes one large loaf

Ingredients:

1 1/4 c rice flour

5 tbsp tapioca starch

1 pkg yeast

1 tbsp sugar

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 c dry powdered milk

1 tbsp baking powder

1/4 c instant mashed potato flakes

1 1/4 c hot water

2 tbsp softened butter

1 tbsp tzatziki (optional)

2 eggs beaten

Directions:

- Combine flour and starch. Put 1 cup of flour/starch mixture into separate mixing bowl.

- Add yeast, sugar, salt, dry powdered milk & baking powder to mixing bowl. Mix.

- In separate container, combine instant mashed potato flakes and hot water. Whip with fork.

-Add potato mixture, softened butter and tzatziki to dry ingredients. Beat for three minutes.

- Add remaining flour and eggs. Beat another three minutes.

- Cover bowl with towel and let dough rise for one hour.

- Beat risen dough just enough to remove large gas bubbles.

- Pour into greased loaf pan, cover and let rise another 30 minutes.

- Bake in preheated 325 degree oven for about 30-35 minutes or until lightly browned.

Substitutions I plan to try include using potato starch (or potato starch flour if I can ever find either) in place of the tapioca starch (you could probably substitute corn starch, too) and using plain Greek-style yogurt or mayo in place of the tzatziki.  I’ll update this post when I try those out.

And to those of you who have never baked a loaf of bread before, try this recipe!  It’s relatively easy and very rewarding.  If you need convincing, visit me and I’ll bake you a sample.

Footnote: For the sake of the post’s title, I wish I had baked a bun first instead.  Ah, life’s little missed opportunities.

——-

Update, 3/11/10: Tried a couple variations recently and wanted to add some notes.

1) If you substitute Greek yogurt for the tzatziki, add about a 1/4 tsp of onion powder and a 1/8 – 1/4 tsp of garlic powder (depending on how much you like garlic).  The onion powder is the key though; the loaf is a little bland without it.

2) I had been using various combinations of white and brown rice flour of the Bob’s Red Mill brand, but went to an Asian food market and bought a $0.99 bag of (not glutenous) white rice flour (the brand name of which I can’t even identify on the package much less spell if I could). I substituted this rice flour for the Bob’s Red Mill flour and kept everything else the same, and the loaf came out totally differently.  The risen dough was much more watery and bubbled from the yeast. At first I was disappointed because I figured the loaf wouldn’t come out right, but I baked it anyway and it tasted great!  It came out much more moist and dense.  Almost didn’t feel like bread. My best guess is that the Asian market flour is more finely ground and doesn’t trap the carbon dioxide from the yeast as well, but I have no idea.

We ate thus: Lunch was frozen turkey burger patties grilled on the George Foreman Lean Mean, etc.  with whatever condiments we found in the fridge (luckily we still had some cheese slices and fresh spinach leafs – our regular lettuce stand-in).  Dinner for Dad was a last link of spicy sausage sliced & pan-cooked then mixed with a heated can of black-eyed peas, topped with vanilla yogurt (his idea, not mine).  For me, it consisted of Skippy Natural Creamy Peanut Butter dregs, meticulously scraped from the hard-to-reach parts of the plastic jar with a small, worn, jagged-edged spatula, which was then redirected across a surface scattered with mini chocolate chips, picking them up metal-filings-to-magnet style. (Peanut butter and chocolate were always meant to be together anyways.)

Needless to say, several hours later we were still hungry and though I had finally OD’ed on peanut butter over the past few days, those chocolate chips roused a hearty sweet tooth in me.  Now the challenge at hand: bake something sweet and tasty using only the pantry’s dwindling supplies.

The raw baking ingredients inventory: almost a cup of rice flour, a couple cups of white sugar, a cup of brown sugar, cocoa, dry powdered milk, honey, instant mashed potato flakes (an amazing gluten-free flour substitute I’ll explain in another post), and about 2 tbsp left of mini chocolate chips remaining. Luckily we had a few eggs, some butter and almond milk available in the fridge and some common spices in the cupboard.

I also had some sweet potatoes I’ve been meaning to fix, but had postponed because Dad doesn’t like them.  However with the idea of warm, buttery sweet potatoes suddenly and firmly lodged in my mind, there was little he could do to prevent the use of our limited resources on this experiment.  While he relayed his doubts: “Sweet potatoes? I don’t knooooooow…”, I Googled “Sweet Potato Cookies”, browsed recipes and settled on this one.

I cut the recipe in half for a trial run and omitted the nuts, raisins, baking soda, allspice and flour (as I didn’t have any of those ingredients), instead substituting rice flour, instant mashed potato flakes, more baking powder, cinnamon and nutmeg.

All told, the recipe came out like this:

Sweet Potato Cookies!

1/4 c butter
1/2 c brown sugar
1 egg
1/2 c mashed sweet potato
1/4 c instant mashed potato flakes
1 c rice flour
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/4 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1/8 tsp nutmeg
1/8 tsp cinnamon
1/4 c almond milk
2 tbsp chocolate chips

Cream together all ingredients except milk and chocolate chips. Mix in milk a little at a time. Stir in chocolate chips. Drop by the spoonful onto a greased cookie sheet. Bake in a 300 degree oven for 15 minutes or until brown.

I fixed half the dough with the chocolate chips:

and half without, dusted with cinnamon instead:

Though they lack that texture common to wheat flour-based cookies, it’s supplanted with a soft, spongy structure that I doubt I’ve ever encountered in a cookie before; it’s a springy treat! You can taste the sweet potato, but it emerges from the encompassing tastes quite a bit milder than that of just a baked sweet potato. Dad, The Sweet Tater Hater, really enjoyed them! They’re interesting, light and delicately delicious, plus they’re quick and easy to make so I’ll definitely be revisiting them. Like BeetLoaf, it’s a wonderfully sweet surprise from an unexpected vegetable source. Hope you enjoy!

Ok, maybe not that laid back, but as this is my first racing event and I hope to do over 140 miles, I’ll be taking it a little easy to make sure I can last the full 12 hours.  (I can imagine the 24hr riders chuckling at me, but you gotta start somewhere, right?) =)

Probably my biggest achievement in the past month has been the evolution of my biking food: the power brownies!  The recipe, which began as this, ended up as this:

Ingredients:

1/2 c butter

3/4 c sugar

3/4 c agave syrup

1/2 c milk

4 tbsp cocoa powder

—–

1/4 tsp almond extract

1 tsp vanilla extract

3/4 c peanut butter

—–

1/2 c pecan meal

1/2 c flax seed meal

1/2 c rice flour

2 tbsp cinnamon

2 scoops protein powder (optional

dash ascorbic acid (optional)

dash citric acid (optional)

—–

1 egg

Directions:

- Melt butter, sugar, agave, milk and cocoa powder in pot until boiling. Boil one min. Remove from heat.

- Combine butter mixture with peanut butter and almond & vanilla extracts. Stir until blended.

- Add in pecan meal, flax seed meal, rice flour, cinnamon, protein powder, ascorbic and citric acids.  Stir until blended.

- Add egg and stir until blended.

- Drop about a tbsp of batter in each cup of bite-sized brownie pan. Bake at 325 for 10-15 min, or until centers are visibly set.

I was able to ride over 80 miles on those alone without any problems.  Hopefully they’ll come in handy tomorrow. Wish us luck!

————

My Saturday morning in Montreal started out wonderfully with an hour of training Kali at Philip Gelinas’ school.  The class was great! His technique was fluid and powerful, his instruction interesting and clear, and his students kind and talented.  I wish I could have stayed longer. Hopefully I’ll have the chance to train with him again someday. Unfortunately, my friend and I had other plans to see more of Montreal, so we thanked Phil and his students, got cleaned and changed, then went in search of food.

Someone we met earlier in the trip had recommended one restaurant to my friend.  Supposedly it was nearby, but it was only after half an hour of walking around in the below freezing weather that we finally found the restaurant several blocks away from where we thought it’d be. It turned out to be a breakfast place serving lots of pancakes and bread and fruit and syrup; we had hoped for something more substantial, so we asked for recommendations and set out again into the cold.

We repeated this sequence six or seven times and every restaurant we checked out was either closed or a deli-style sandwich shop.  We added an additional 20 city blocks to our first 8-10 on what we had expected to be a 3 block walk and still hadn’t found what we were looking for.

I had only dressed for a quick downtown stroll – leggings, jeans, undershirt, shirt, sweater, wool coat, wool socks, cotton socks, boots, hat, hood and leather gloves (you’d think that’d be enough) – and the cold, having penetrated my clothes, was working it’s way down to my bones.  My friend (who hadn’t even brought his gloves) was feeling a little frosty too. So with our stomachs growling angrily, we broke down and hailed a cab.

We told the driver what we were looking for and he, of course, knew just the place.  When he began to rave about how the restaurant had signed photos of all the famous people who have eaten there, I started to worry.

He dropped us off at the curb just past Schwartz’s Deli (”World Famous Smoked Meat”).  As we were exiting the cab he proudly said we would probably have to wait in line for a table.  Ok, not a prob–  Wait, that line of people piling up OUTSIDE the building? @&*$.

Let’s recap:  a cabbie picks up two people, obviously – visibly - freezing, talking about how cold they are and how much they want a big plate of hot meat, then takes them to a restaurant where he knows they will have to wait outside.  Probably a good intention, just not really thought through.

Moving on:  once inside the teeny restaurant, we shared an elbow-to-elbow table with four people from Toronto (I think) who actually turned out to be really kind and fun to talk to.  The smoked brisket was nice considering we were still thawing out, and though it tasted alright it was a little dry.  They had mustard and steak sauce available at every table because the meat needed it.  Our tablemates asked us excitedly if we liked the meal, and I said it was good but, unfortunately, I’m a terrible liar.  My friend apologized for me though: “She’s from Texas and I forget that it’s hard to impress her when it comes to beef.”

And that got me dreaming about Lockhart brisket and Elgin sausage. About the tender barbecue brisket of Kreuz Market (”No Sauce, No Forks”). About how the restaurant compromises and offers a seasoning salt (delicious enough to eat on it’s own) meant for those who have never tasted perfect brisket and are in the habit of blindly putting something on their beef before sampling it.  Thankfully, new Kreuz customers usually show up with a friend or family member who’s a returning customer; someone who invariably acts as a guide and who has to remind the newcomers how each person must inevitably wrestle with their own decision of whether to mix the independently perfect tastes of meat and seasoning or eat them separately.  How most of us have to try a little of both.

But back to Montreal and Schwartz’s.  Uh, the fries were excellent.  And the dill pickles were good.  Tasty ketchup, too.

After being shuffled out to make room for those literally standing out in the cold, we realized we weren’t far from the hotel and decided to make the walk back, having warmed up a bit from the body heat of those who had been sitting within inches of us.  The walk, though chilly, proved worth it because we happened upon this:

an amazingly complex, detailed graffiti mural of “Aliens” aliens (and maybe some others mixed in for variety. I’m nerdy, but not that much of a Sci-Fi movie buff. All apologies.) Here’s a closeup:

Beautiful, no?  (And gruesome. I know, I know.)

Naturally, we had to stop to take pictures of Batman:

Ahem. Of BATMAN.

Thank you.

After returning to the hotel, spent most of the rest of the night inside, except for an excursion for Tequila which ended up necessitating 3 cab rides.  Apparently liquor stores close sometime around 5pm or 6pm on Saturday afternoons.  That is not a typo. (Oh Quebec, how I’ve come to loathe you.)

After that, it was an early night.  Thanks to my first stint on Priceline, my flight left at 6:35am, so I was up by 3:30am to be at the airport 2ish hours in advance.  With the low volume of passengers travelling at those pre-dawn hours it would have been plenty of time, however the airport had everyone waiting in a series of six lines.  One line to get bag tags (suddenly carryons aren’t allowed – only one personal item), one line to have your carryons sent downstairs, one line for preliminary ID and boarding pass screening, one line for regular security (metal detector, xray the bags, random screening, etc.), one line for customs (which actually turned out nicely as we didn’t have to deal with it after landing in the States), and another line for more security (full pat-downs and thorough searches of personal items for everyone! yay!).

If you count the lines you had to stand in at security and customs after standing in the big line, it’s actually eight lines total.

Montreal, we need to talk.

After viewing the forecast two weeks ago, a trip to snow-blanketed Montreal sounded more appealing than biking in Lycra in Florida’s below-freezing conditions.  The trip was a short one but it did have a number of highlights.  For instance, the hotel room had a nice view of downtown Montreal – good for guests and crimefighters alike:

and more importantly, the room had a wonderful heater (considering that it got down to around minus 20 C, factoring wind chill, during the daytime.)

I arrived Thursday night and had arranged to participate in a class at Philip Gelinas’ school, The Gelinas Academy of Mixed Martial Arts, Saturday morning.  I have always heard wonderful things about his fighting style as well as his teaching abilities and reveled at the opportunity to meet and train with him.  So the day before the class, my friend and I stopped by the gym to scout out the location and preview the facilities.  After introducing ourselves and promising to return the next day, we headed out to explore more of downtown Montreal and stumbled upon a gem right across the street from the academy.

We walked around the side of the St James United Church then, out of curiosity, decided to peek inside. The interior immediately stunned us.  Numerous stained glass windows lining the side and back walls aided a huge central chandelier in gently lighting the large, deep, vaulted space. Radiating ranks of rich, well-oiled wood shone in the diffused light, each pew polished gradually over the years by the caresses of countless patrons navigating the rows, by grasps stabilizing those devoted bodies politely invited to rise and be seated time and again.  Even the aged cushions – still stuffed with horsehair – whispered hints of endurance and faith.

Without a doubt, however, the focus of the quiescent room was the magnificent pipe organ.

As we wandered around, a professional organist practicing his repertoire floated the huge space with gentle melodies, while slowly flooding the room with imperceptibly crescendoing layers of chords.  We later found out he isn’t the regular organist for the church – his normal church was closed and his organ inaccessible – and that St. James makes a regular habit of offering it’s facilities to musicians like him.

While marveling over the majestic display of pipes, my friend and I got into a disagreement over the mechanics of the organ.  Although I was (partially) wrong I’m glad it happened because to resolve the argument we turned to a nearby docent in a pastor’s beard & sweater who had been strolling up and down the aisles, awaiting just such a circumstance.  Delighted at the question and our interest, he described the organ’s design as well as this particular organ’s history.  He invited us to view it (and the organist) up close while describing it’s functions. The organist paused his performance to demonstrate the instrument’s ability and potential alongside the docent’s descriptions.  Apparently, when they (pardon the pun) pull out all the stops and employ the largest, lowest-toned pipes (which are made of wood rather than metal), the sound literally shakes the plaster off the walls of the sanctuary.

Our docent continued to give us a guided tour of the expansive church.  He showed us the rooms for their myriad charitable programs for the homeless and needy, including an impressively efficacious art and writing program, a soup kitchen, food bank, mission office, and a day lounge where those living on the streets were invited to repose and congregate during Montreal’s days – the temperatures of which are often below freezing.  We thanked our guide while stressing how moving it was to witness a church offer such stable, useful, functional charitable efforts.  Upon exiting, we both agreed, “This is what a church SHOULD be.”

We continued our meandering into the Old Town section of Montreal and stopped by the city’s basilica, Notre Dame:

but found out they charge a fee for entry.  After the experience at St. James, it just didn’t seem worth it.  So we continued our tour of downtown and Old Town:

and after breaking down to buy some warm hats and postcards, we retired to Stash Cafe, a Polish restaurant in Old Town, to warm up with some comforting soup: borsch (beet soup) for me & flaki (tripe soup) for my friend.  The restaurant was in an old building with a number of other businesses which all shared one set of restrooms, reached only by scaling an awesome, gothic staircase:

The rest of the day was spent in the underground tunnels and in the hotel because the temperatures continued to drop.  Not much else to report … until Part II.

But things change.

—————-

So Saturday night we finally finished working on my Christmas present – Dad’s old Corsa (ok, it’s not that old, but it has over 12K miles on it, so in bike years that’s old, right?) – and I have never been so excited to get a hand-me-down.

We couldn’t wait to ride together – for the first time each on our own stick bikes – so even though it was supposed to be cold (by Florida standards) on Sunday morning, we set our minds on a ride to downtown St. Pete – I for my Kali class and Dad to meet up with other local cyclists for a regular ride.

Sunday morning, after some scheduling and bike adjustments, we more or less rode downtown together and had a blast.  Next to my regular e-bike, which weighs as much as I do, the Corsa floats on the pavement and glides me down the road.   I was giddy when I realized it was relatively easy (for me!) to do 18-20mph on flat ground.  We flew downtown then Dad dropped me off for my class and pedaled off to meet his friends.

Two and a half hours of swinging a stick later, Dad returned to the park. He, my instructor and I ate some cookies I had baked the previous night from a  recipe tweaked for the holidays, then Dad and I left to ride home.  It was raining lightly when we left the park, but stopped after a few minutes.  Nevertheless, Dad reminded me not to make any panic stops on the damp and now possibly-slick roads.  Noted.

About halfway home, riding South on a 50-60 block stretch along one *straight* road, we approach an intersection with a green light.  There’s a grey van, facing North in the on-coming left-turn lane.  He’s the only vehicle at the intersection.  He’s at a dead stop.

Dad rides up to the intersection. The van is still stopped.  Dad rides into the intersection.  Suddenly the driver decides to make that left turn he’s been thinking about for who knows how long. He lurches in front of Dad, Dad tries to turn, but smashes into the hood of the van, then flips/rolls/slides across the front and off onto the pavement, landing several feet away, still straddling his bike.

Around this time, a queue of cars arrives at the intersection from the West.  They stop and several people get out. Some run out from a nearby store.  Someone calls 911.  The driver eventually climbs out of the van to see what happened.

While the paramedics were on their way, I asked the driver for his information and he refused to give it to anyone but the cops.  I guess he’s used to this type of situation.

The paramedics, fire department and police arrived and some checked out Dad while others took information.  There were a few just hanging around, and when a trio of neighborhood kids on bikes rode up to the commotion, they took the opportunity to make a lesson of the situation: “See kids, this is what can happen when you ride a bike. Always wear your helmet.”  What they *should* have said is: “See kids, this is what can happen when someone drives a car.  Always wear your helmet.”

But seriously, all of the EMS personnel were so kind.  They checked Dad over and advised him on his injuries; they were kind, calm, polite and helpful. They did a wonderful job.  And since Dad (for myriad, obvious reasons) couldn’t ride home, the officer who made the report offered to give Dad and the bike a lift home.  Thank you Officer Callaghan, SPPD, SPFD and all the EMS workers!

As for the bike, the poor bike: the front forks were completely snapped off and the front wheel was cracked beyond any hope of surviving another ride.

The carbon seat was smashed, the back wheel bent, the handlebars scraped, a hand rest broken off, the speedometer cable ruined, and the list, painfully, goes on.

And the remainder of my cookies, which had been in my dad’s top box, were a bit scrambled (but still very tasty!):

Hopefully, by the time Dad heals we can have the bike reconstructed and get back to riding!  His goal was 52 century rides for this year.  As of Sunday morning he was at 50. So close! So close.

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Meanwhile, here’s the modified recipe for the cookies:

Flourless Cinnamon and Chocolate Chunk Peanut Butter Cookies

Preheat the oven to 350°. Line cookie sheet with parchment paper.

Cream the peanut butter and sugar in a bowl. Add baking powder. Add the cinnamon. Add the egg. Mix in the chocolate until all is combined.

Hand-roll balls of dough (approx. 1-2 tbsp each). Place on parchment paper and cross-score with fork. Bake for ten minutes.

If you plan to eat more than a couple at a time, have a glass of milk handy – they are very peanut buttery!