Where's Munich?

As with Miller-McCune, I had never before heard of The Ecologist, "the world's leading environmental affairs magazine" according to its About Us section. Via And Dutch I just came across The Ecologist's list of "Top 10...Euro cities to cycle".

I skimmed the list, awaiting glowing praise for Munich along the lines of "flat city perfect for those of all skill levels and bike types; wide, well-kept bike paths between the street and the sidewalk on nearly every street; gorgeous scenery whether you're headed to the local bar or cruising along the river Isar on your way to a monastery or out-of-the-way Biergarten; safe, flourishing bike culture overall."

I don't see Munich. Where's Munich? Wait a second, don't tell me...

LONDON?

And no Munich? You can't be serious.

I've only lived in a few European cities and I've only visited half of the ones on this list, but four months of living in and one month of biking in London is enough for me to guarantee you it doesn't belong on this list, even less so when Munich didn't make the cut. London has a dearth of bike lanes (aside from "suggested" ones that run in the street), the ballyhooed Boris Bikes rental system is still in its infancy (it might have opened for the general public by now...), and the bike "superhighways" are about 20% complete.

Even if you've never been to London, tell me what feeling you get from reading the first few lines of its description:

Why it’s great: Cycling in London used to be pretty dreadful thanks to an unfortunate combination of rain and aggressive drivers but since the first two Barclays Cycle Superhighways launched last summer, things have become a little easier.

So in a section about why it's "great," London is hailed as having made the leap from "pretty dreadful" to..."a little easier"? Thanks for the tip, Ecologist! I can't wait to be ground into the rain-slicked pavement by aggressive drivers!

As a matter of fact, based on The Ecologist's descriptions alone, you get the sense that some of these cities are not like the others, some of these cities just don't belong. Here are some delightful excerpts from the section on Paris: "many hazards...infamously crazy drivers...vehicular terrors are best avoided...." Wow, 1 Euro for an unlimited day pass of 30 minute journeys sounds steeper if my Paris life expectancy is only 5 minutes. If I die, do they pro-rate the fee? No? Merde.

If you don't like Munich, fine, don't put it on your "Top ten favorite Euro Cities" list, but it deserves to be on a list of top Euro-cycle Cities. Otherwise maybe the list should have been called "Top 10...Euro Cities we think are neat to go sightseeing in, like that one with that big Tower and the one where they drive on the wrong side, and maybe you should try it on a bike if you can find one, 'cause we hear some people are doin' that these days, and maybe they're a little cheaper and more ubiquitous than they used to be, and we're an eco-magazine so, hey, green!"

But I guess it'd be hard to sneak that one by your editor.

Slugging and Baking

As a quick follow-up to my previous post, my mom is pretty sure that my uncle used to "slug" to work, which makes sense since he works for the government and lives just outside of DC. Plus, he's kind of a hippie once you get past that faux-conservative exterior, so I bet he was happy to undermine the auto industry's profits. My mom thinks she and my dad might have slugged with him one day to get into the city. I'd think that kind of thing would be hard to forget: standing quietly in line, getting in a random strangers car when called like some sort of prostitute, riding silently into the city for free? Guess I'll have to ask my uncle and see if he's got more to tell me about it.

And as a quick follow-up to a Facebook post from last night, the Peanut Butter-Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies from the Brown Eyed Baker site were awesome. Stasia thinks raisins are wrinkly, healthy chocolate chips, but I reject that notion and demand actual chocolate in my cookies. Peanut butter always helps, too, both in flavor and shape. Not that I care much about the shape of cookies since all I really want is to under-cook them for maximum softness and gooeyness, but it can be satisfying (and easier to pick them up) when they don't end up pancake-flat every time. Handy tip. Otherwise just do what Stasia and I sometimes do: eat your fresh cookies with a spoon. Then you can sell it as "breakfast" easier. Put away the Cookie Crisp.

I didn't get any pics, but there's more dough in the fridge so maybe I will next time the cookies come out of the oven. We were going to try the technique described on the site for giving an extra-wrinkly, crispy (is wrinkly+crispy where "crinkly" comes from?) texture to the top of the cookies

To shape, basically roll the dough into ball, then pull it apart in half (so the jagged edges are facing each other), then turn those halves up (so the jagged edges are now facing up), then press them together (side by side) to make them round again, with the jagged edges on top. Hope that explanation helps!

but we didn't end up making the balls of dough as big as suggested in the recipe (believe me, I tried to make them huge but I was overruled as usual), so it was hard to pull off the proper method. Still, delicious, and I will be trying other recipes from the site for SURE. These Italian Pigu sound delicious, simple enough for me, and hilarious, which is my ideal foodstuff. Heh: Pigu.

Edit, March 20, 2011:

The dough dries out very quickly when kept in the fridge. The cookies still turned out well the second time around, but I wouldn't recommend saving the dough for more than a night, maybe two.

Slugging and Sleeping

I don't know why I haven't heard of Miller-McCune before, but it seems like a fantastic magazine/site. The surprisingly long article on Slugging held my attention to the last. Over the past few years living in Europe I discovered the joys of ridesharing, aka carpooling, and have lamented its absence in the USA. Everyone here has a car; no one seems to want to share his car with strangers. We don't like nor trust strangers here. I'm a trustworthy, semi-likable stranger without a car, people! Stop shutting me out.

Quite different from the typically longer-distance sharing that happens in Europe, it turns out DC and San Francisco are a couple of places that have had a strange ridesharing system for over 30 years. Irked by traffic jams and HOV lanes, it is workers in and around these two major cities that have casually organized a better way. Talk about an awful name, though, "slugging." Here's the suggested origin story:

When LeBlanc moved to the area in the mid-1990s, slugging was already entrenched. It was born alongside the I-395 HOV in the 1970s. According to the slugs’ creation story, drivers quickly realized they could get people in their cars and qualify for the new lanes by poaching waiting passengers from bus stops. Bitter bus drivers are credited with coining the term “slug,” originally a derogatory reference that has been amiably reappropriated.

"Slug" doesn't sound like it refers to anything specific about the practice, and I have a hard time believing bus drivers would use such a tame insult...am I missing some historical connotation there? I'll have to ask my family and friends in DC if they've heard of this system, which sounds really cool but also so specific to the surrounding layout and circumstances that it would be impossible to try to export it. But these are the cases that give hope that even Americans can change their travel habits if under enough time or cost pressure.

After spending an inordinate amount of time reading this fascinating piece, I was drawn to A Day in the Life of a Sleepy Student, which will please Stasia, who is incensed at the early start of a high schooler's day (seriously: ask her). I haven't made it all the way through yet, since the screen is starting to make my eyes burn and I need to get the word out here before I burrow squintingly back into my mole-hole for the evening, but I like what I've read so far and I'll certainly be exploring the Miller-McCune site in more depth soon.

The articles are massive, which is sometimes a turn-off when I'm reading something on a computer (see: eyes burning), but they're interesting, well-written, and most importantly they aren't spread out across 5 or 10 pages but rather contained on a single, very tall page. Web sites aren't subject to the space restrictions of the printed page, but sites like The Washington Post and Slate insist on making me load multiple pages for each piece I try to read, which is possibly a way of suggesting more length/depth than actually exists and is certainly a way of maximizing page views (Slate even goes so far as to automatically refresh its pages every minute or so in its quest to inflate its numbers).

Slideshows and multiple-page articles are infuriating and unnecessary and should go the way of AOL's cd-mailing bombardment and other relics of an age when "the Internet" and its benefits were completely misunderstood. Make the piece as long as it takes, utilizing the magic of the web, and let me use my handy scroll wheel to read it without interruptions. I'm more likely to finish it, revisit it, and discuss it if I can easily search and access the entire piece this way. You can slap ads up and down both sides of the page, I don't care; just don't ruin my reading experience or I won't keep reading. Though it could do without the awkward, hyphenated name, Miller-McCune seems to understand what it takes to captivate a reader.

Eastern Europe...

...is now on display. Go check out pictures from Budapest and then a bunch from Slovakia and Poland. Again, no comprehensive captioning, but some choice commentary here and there, along with the fairly informative album summaries.

If you're a fan, send me a fan, I'm begging you. My room is sweltering facing the afternoon sun in these temperatures. I don't have an oven; the only baking being done in my room is my brain baking in my skull. I can no longer hear myself think, I can only hear my brain brownies reaching the burning point.

Backed Up

So I planned to post the Budapest and Slovakia pictures today, but then I stumbled upon a backlog of pics that needed taking care of. Budapest and Slovakia will have to wait until tomorrow. For now, enjoy pics from my trip to Barcelona with Ben, Sam, Sarah, Rachel, and Taylor (only three months late, it's all goooood) and some pics from Ben's and my jaunt on May 3, up to a couple of towns along the Rhine River, Bacharach and Sankt Goar (pics taken by Ben but on my camera so I did the honors). Because of the sheer numbers, I only put two or three captions in each batch, so the pics will have to speak for themselves. I always forget what stuff actually is anyway, so you'd only end up with more of my insane ramblings.

Speaking of insane ramblings, I have to mention a little incident from my flight home yesterday, before I forget that too. Even though RyanAir flies to and from the tiniest, most out-of-the-way little airports in Europe, I've come to enjoy their flights for a couple of reasons. Due to the hop, skip, and a jump nature, they're always pretty short, and the two Exit rows have a ton of legroom. Despite the free-for-all atmosphere of waiting in line to board and then choosing whatever seats you want, there's always at least one spot left in these rows by the time I get there.

Normally I go directly for an aisle seat on the left on any public transportation, because at least I can periodically stretch my bum right leg out -- also, you're guaranteed one uncontested armrest with an aisle seat, which is worth the occasional thwacking from a drink cart. But in the Exit row I don't even need the aisle because I can stretch both legs out anywhere. I don't know why people haven't caught on to this, but I hope they never do, because these seats are pure gold for a guy my size. As an added bonus, kids aren't allowed to sit in them, so you're guaranteed not to have to deal with any little brats.

You might, however, have to deal with some big brats. An Exit row seat doesn't have the tray table that folds down from the back of the seat in front of it. Instead, the rubber part of the armrest flips open to the left and you pull the tray table out of its little hidey hole. Ain't technology grand?

Well picture my situation: I'm in the middle of three seats, the seat to my left is empty for unknown technical reasons, and there's a German guy sitting in the window seat to my right. Not too bad, at least I've still got one free armrest on my left and he's got one on his right.

I'm ready to exercise the unspoken diplomacy of adjacent seats, trading off control of the middle armrest throughout the flight, when things take a turn for the weird. He's erected the Berlin Wall of Exit row seats: he's flipped up the rubber part of the armrest!

Because the rubber part flips up to the left, he's still able to put his arm on the inner workings while effectively shutting down any access I might have had. For the security of an entire-flight stranglehold on the armrest, this diabolical fiend was willing to sacrifice the shared comfort of the flat, rubber surface.

Well played, stranger. I'm already looking forward to trying it out myself.

Mmm...Bucket Of Lard

Alright, gotta take this slowly, ease back into the whole blog thing with small yet delicious nuggets of information. After more than four months off, I obviously need to post something on here. I probably got too ambitious promising to talk in detail about a week-long trip, so I'll try to get back to some more narrowly focused topics so I don't go crazy.

So here's something from Poland. I went with Ben, Kathryn, and Michaela from Thursday, Apr. 10 to Sunday, Apr. 13. We took a train from Berlin to Warsaw, which took about six hours, stayed there for a night and the next day we took a train to Krakow at around 8 PM. It turned out to be a great trip, beautiful cities that really rebounded after the war -- Warsaw in particular, since it was about 96% destroyed, whereas I think Krakow got off easier -- interesting sights, and many lovely people, both in personality and appearance. This was surprising to us and probably is to everyone else who hasn't been, since the stereotypes of destruction, depression, and terrible fashion haunt many of these eastern European countries. It also helped that the weather was gorgeous, much nicer than in Germany during the same period of time.

While we were surprised to see so many really attractive people, we became even more surprised as we ate at more restaurants. Why? Because when every meal includes lard, you expect to see some lardbutts running -- or lumbering -- along. There were no lardbutts, people. Despite finding lard sprinkled liberally on everything we ate, despite eating a leg of pork in an aspic mold (link goes to a definition), despite being served as a starter some slices of bread with a BUCKET of LARD as a spread (link goes to Kathryn's blog post with pictures of Poland, including Polish food if you scroll down), these Poles were not fat. How do they do it?

Maybe they don't sleep much...that's a good way to lose weight, right? While I was in Poland, I had multiple nightmares each night. I rarely dream anymore, whether good or bad, but on at least two nights I had nightmares which I was able to clearly remember. Since I wasn't doing anything else out of the ordinary, I have to assume that what was fueling my night terrors was the addition of large quantities of pure animal fat to my diet. I'm pretty sure the aspic, which was the first night in Warsaw, started this. If you've never had aspic, the definition I linked to won't do it justice. The horror of forcing this thing down my gullet...Ben tried a bite and refused to chew and swallow it, preferring to spit it in a napkin. I couldn't manage all of it, but half was clearly enough to damage my mind. And while the bucket of lard-spread turned out not to taste like anything as far as we could tell, it definitely was one of the least appetizing buckets I've ever seen.

Don't get me wrong -- most of the food we ate was quite delicious, especially pierogies, and I suppose Polish people don't eat this traditional stuff every meal the way we did. Definitely keep an open mind and try stuff, especially since the most hilarious reactions came from people realizing they needed to get the lard out of their mouths NOW. But don't overdo it unless you packed a night light and a teddy bear.