Laissez le Bon Temps Rouler...er, donde esta el sol????

Mardi Gras has come and gone, leaving in its wake 40 days to reflect on death and resurrection, a concept well illustrated by Michigan's kindergarten-strict adherence to the classic four season timeline. We got winter when the official winter season began some time in December. We will get spring when the official spring season begins, some time around Easter, which is April 4th this year. Like Jesus' biblical journey back to life, the tulips and daffodils will emerge from the earth once again. Until then, though, that somber reminder...from dust you came and to dust you shall return.

Well, it's not as if I have literally been reflecting matters of life and death since last Wednesday, especially not with all the recent springy weather. This Friday I had my sunroof open. Today I had my car windows down as I ran errands. I basked in the sunshine. I did not once use the car sunroof when I lived in the desert, but I now use it every so often to augment winter sunbreaks (my Seattle sister's term). This sunbreak is just about over, though, with a winter storm warning to last through the week. The past few weeks, we have had snow during the week, then warmer weather toward week's end, which foiled Fiance's and my plan to explore local cross-country ski trials. So we are hoping this week will not end in weather warm enough to melt all the snow (though this is the last time I will say that this year...after this week, it is all pray for spring pray for spring pray for spring).

Back to Mardi Gras. Being one who loves to embrace other cultures, particularly when it comes to food, I made a traditional King Cake...this is a Louisiana thing. It apparently originated in France. I have had delicious King Cake before, and mine came out okay, but like many yeast-based creations of mine, was a bit dense, and by Day 2, a bit brick-like. King Cakes can be shared from the Feast of the Epiphany (always on January 6th) up to Mardi Gras (this year February 17th), and I shared mine 2 weeks before Mardi Gras. It went over well, because even after a ridiculous amount of preparation and baking, it tasted exactly like a cinnamon roll, and who doesn't like a cinnamon roll? But next time, I will follow the recipe I found on some "work smart not hard" person's blog which went something like this: open one of those cylindrical cans of raw cinnamon rolls, shape it into an oval, bake, ice, and sprinkle with some sugar you bought already colored gold, green, and purple (that's right, I used food coloring to custom-color my sugar!). Though if you are a glutton for punishment, check out the Southern Living recipe I used at http://find.myrecipes.com/recipes/recipefinder.dyn?action=displayRecipe&recipe_id=1152929. I actually have a hard copy of the recipe, clipped from my grandma's magazine - the hard copy tells you how to make your own colored sugar: simply add a few drops of food coloring to a small bowl of sugar and wisk until combined.

But since I live in Detroit and not New Orleans, I would be remiss not to mention the paczki, the ubiquitous Polish Mardi Gras treat. I went to the nearby Looney Baker in Livonia (if you are ever in town you must get their apple cider donut...mmmm) to pick up paczki for the Fiance and I to share. The girl who helped me at the counter said they had been extremely busy trying to meet all the special orders for paczki that come in that time of year. Hmmm, I thought, these paczki must really be something! To be honest, I was a bit disappointed, though this should not reflect on the excellent Looney Baker (which sports a blow-up Homer Simpson eating a donut during the Christmas season). The paczek (singular form) is basically a jelly donut, though you can also get a custard-filled. The difference, as far as I can tell, is better ingredients, but I have never been a fan of jelly donuts, so alas, I did not have any point of comparison. I sincerely apologize if this critique offends paczki fans - I have had only one experience with the paczki so far, but will gamely give it a try next year - who am I to pass up a donut?

A Date Downtown

Fiance and I went on a rare date last night (to put it in perspective, before last night, our dating life was scheduled to be placed on the Endangered Species List). He won tickets to a Red Wings game at work, so the destination was downtown Detroit. To begin the night, we decided to take in a word-of-mouth favorite, Slows BarBQue. Apparently, famous people like the Rolling Stones and Bill Clinton consider it a must-go when in Detroit (and I ask you, when in Detroit? Not since I've lived here!). Anyways, I am not so foolish as to ignore a commendation from Bill Clinton regarding homestyle eats, so we Googlemapped our way to Corktown, the Irish neighborhood downtown where Slows is located. Slows faces the deserted and barb-wired Michigan Central Station, a building which never fails to fill me with awe (and regret that it sits there abandoned).

The picture, by yours truly, is shaky, a result of not using a flash or something, I don't know, I am terrible at taking photographs. It's hard to see, but some tagger lacking a fear of heights or an instict for self-preservation sprayed "Save the Depot" near the top of the building. Slows is basically surrounded by rundown buildings and small businesses that don't look too booming...I guess some years ago this is where my Irish family would have congregated, had I grown up in Detroit, but now it doesn't look like too many people consider this as a destination neighborhood for much other than barbeque.

At Slows, Fiance and I had The Best Macaroni and Cheese Ever There Was. I will not accept any comparisons or alternate best-mac'n'cheese comments from anybody unless they first taste Slows' mac'n'cheese, end of story...that is an open invitation to meet me at Slows to resolve any debate. I felt a strong urge to photograph my own plate of mac'n'cheese after taking a few bites, to commemorate the event, but was frankly too embarrassed. So I finished it off, along with amazing ribs and brisket, and washed it all down with some local microbrews. I unfortunately had to change my plans for dessert, due to extreme fullness...I was so disappointed I had to pass on the Chuck Norris, a dessert that will kick you in the face! (If my dear readers would like to see a picture of the famous mac'n'cheese or the much-desired Chuck, check out http://www.slowsbarbq.com/.) The place was packed with red-clad diners who'd had the same idea as us. We finished up and waddled to the car to proceed the mile and a half (can't walk after eating that food!) to Joe Louis to watch the Wings...lose to the San Jose Sharks in a shootout.

I looovve going to hockey games! And it is even better when you have good seats, row 16 in our case, right behind the goal. After pro baseball, pro hockey is my favorite in-person spectator sport (sorry football - though this statement excludes Longhorns football, which actually trumps baseball and hockey). And Red Wings fans are crazy...a lot of them are little old ladies, who fit into the cute but crazy category. Detroit is Hockeytown U.S.A., after all. Though the Wings lost, it was a great time, and a great date! And to top it off, we were able to get out of the Joe parking garage in less than 2 minutes, an amazing coup upon which I still marvel!

This little boy waved his hat around the whole game to get on the Jumbotron, mission accomplished toward the end of the 3rd period...hooray!