Oh, my. Another Tuesday night, another Fellows presentation, another meal suitable for the Romans. It was soul food from the Asian subcontinent tonight — dal, chutney and a lovely, spicy stew.
“Is this lamb?” I asked, in raptures.
“It’s mutton,” one of the cooks said. “We got it from a halal butcher.”
“No one sells mutton anymore,” I said. “Mutton is sheep. And it’s tough. This is tender. No way.”
“Well, it’s supposedly mutton. It’s what the butcher called it.”
Back and forth, back and forth. Mutton, lamb, what was this mystery meat?
I finally went to the cook who planned the meal. It was goat. And you know what? That was one tasty sucker. I’ve never eaten a goat before. I like goats. They’re cute, the way they butt you and stick their noses in your pockets and baaa at the petting zoo. But you know what? If the goat had to die to feed us, this was a worthy fate for that goaty soul. It was plain delicious.
MOMENTS LATER UPDATE: What a lame-ass entry. What I Had For Dinner. What, the Traffic Patterns of My Evening Commute weren’t interesting enough? Yeah, I know. It’s just what when you share a delicious meal in fine company, it turns you into Jesus, sharing the good news with the rest of the world, you know?
Also, I’m a little stunned. I came home and got online, thinking I’d be looking at a knuckle-biter in the Fort’s mayoral election, and whaddaya know? It’s a freakin’ blowout for the Dems, and I sure didn’t see that one coming. The newspaper websites have nothing up at 9:30 or so, but the TV stations are calling it Richard over Buskirk, 58 to 42 percent with 99 percent of precincts in, and any way you slice that, that’s a stone stomping. Given that Graham Richard is the most charisma-free politician I’ve yet met, and that he’s presided over a city in decline for most of the last year, well, give the man his props, you know?
What’s more, it looks like Alex’s pick John Shoaff is close to getting an at-large spot on the city council, unseating a cemented-in-place Republican. Whoa. More news as it happens, I guess.