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mishalak and wilfulcait
mishalak and wilfulcaitIf you're looking for breakfast or lunch in downtown Minneapolis, I strongly recommend Hell's Kitchen.
We wound up there semi-accidentally: we'd had breakfast the previous day at Key's (on the Nicollet Mall), because it's easy, but my nephewzorinth didn't want to go back there. Someone had mentioned Hell's Kitchen in the Minicon newsletter, so we gave it a try.
I was charmed, the first day, by the excellent bacon and the lemon-ricotta pancakes.papersky and I were both delighted by the tea: half a dozen choices, loose leaves brought in pots, already brewed. (Papersky has stricter standards for tea than I do, and is almost always disappointed by what she is offered in the United States.) She was pleased by a very helpful waiter, who answered her questions about ingredients cheerfully and knowledgeably (she has food allergies).
We went back the next day, with a couple of additional companions. I had their specialty porridge: wild rice and dried fruit in cream. I wasn't raised on porridge, and the only kind I normally eat is congee, but this looked intriguing and tasted delightful. As we were leaving, I asked our waitress if there was any grain in it besides the wild rice, because I wanted to try to make it at home. She listed the main ingredients, and offered to find me the recipe. When it turned out that the chef who could have answered that wasn't working that day, she asked for my address so they can send me the recipe. Less fancy but at least as helpful, they were able to givejonsinger oatmeal made with water instead of milk (another allergy issue).
We wound up there semi-accidentally: we'd had breakfast the previous day at Key's (on the Nicollet Mall), because it's easy, but my nephew
zorinth didn't want to go back there. Someone had mentioned Hell's Kitchen in the Minicon newsletter, so we gave it a try.I was charmed, the first day, by the excellent bacon and the lemon-ricotta pancakes.
papersky and I were both delighted by the tea: half a dozen choices, loose leaves brought in pots, already brewed. (Papersky has stricter standards for tea than I do, and is almost always disappointed by what she is offered in the United States.) She was pleased by a very helpful waiter, who answered her questions about ingredients cheerfully and knowledgeably (she has food allergies).We went back the next day, with a couple of additional companions. I had their specialty porridge: wild rice and dried fruit in cream. I wasn't raised on porridge, and the only kind I normally eat is congee, but this looked intriguing and tasted delightful. As we were leaving, I asked our waitress if there was any grain in it besides the wild rice, because I wanted to try to make it at home. She listed the main ingredients, and offered to find me the recipe. When it turned out that the chef who could have answered that wasn't working that day, she asked for my address so they can send me the recipe. Less fancy but at least as helpful, they were able to give
jonsinger oatmeal made with water instead of milk (another allergy issue).If you're looking for breakfast or lunch in downtown Minneapolis, I strongly recommend Hell's Kitchen.
We wound up there semi-accidentally: we'd had breakfast the previous day at Key's (on the Nicollet Mall), because it's easy, but my nephewzorinth didn't want to go back there. Someone had mentioned Hell's Kitchen in the Minicon newsletter, so we gave it a try.
I was charmed, the first day, by the excellent bacon and the lemon-ricotta pancakes.papersky and I were both delighted by the tea: half a dozen choices, loose leaves brought in pots, already brewed. (Papersky has stricter standards for tea than I do, and is almost always disappointed by what she is offered in the United States.) She was pleased by a very helpful waiter, who answered her questions about ingredients cheerfully and knowledgeably (she has food allergies).
We went back the next day, with a couple of additional companions. I had their specialty porridge: wild rice and dried fruit in cream. I wasn't raised on porridge, and the only kind I normally eat is congee, but this looked intriguing and tasted delightful. As we were leaving, I asked our waitress if there was any grain in it besides the wild rice, because I wanted to try to make it at home. She listed the main ingredients, and offered to find me the recipe. When it turned out that the chef who could have answered that wasn't working that day, she asked for my address so they can send me the recipe. Less fancy but at least as helpful, they were able to givejonsinger oatmeal made with water instead of milk (another allergy issue).
We wound up there semi-accidentally: we'd had breakfast the previous day at Key's (on the Nicollet Mall), because it's easy, but my nephew
zorinth didn't want to go back there. Someone had mentioned Hell's Kitchen in the Minicon newsletter, so we gave it a try.I was charmed, the first day, by the excellent bacon and the lemon-ricotta pancakes.
papersky and I were both delighted by the tea: half a dozen choices, loose leaves brought in pots, already brewed. (Papersky has stricter standards for tea than I do, and is almost always disappointed by what she is offered in the United States.) She was pleased by a very helpful waiter, who answered her questions about ingredients cheerfully and knowledgeably (she has food allergies).We went back the next day, with a couple of additional companions. I had their specialty porridge: wild rice and dried fruit in cream. I wasn't raised on porridge, and the only kind I normally eat is congee, but this looked intriguing and tasted delightful. As we were leaving, I asked our waitress if there was any grain in it besides the wild rice, because I wanted to try to make it at home. She listed the main ingredients, and offered to find me the recipe. When it turned out that the chef who could have answered that wasn't working that day, she asked for my address so they can send me the recipe. Less fancy but at least as helpful, they were able to give
jonsinger oatmeal made with water instead of milk (another allergy issue).Heather, my downstairs neighbor whose previous cat roamed the fire escape, rang my bell earlier this afternoon. She said she had a major problem. I had a kettle up, as part of making lunch, so I told her to come in, and we shared a pot of tea while we talked.
The problem turned out to be significant but not difficult to solve: someone else, in the course of "helping" her with Microsoft Word, had taken the "File" menu off, so she couldn't save the document she was working on. After lunch, I went down to her apartment, poked around the help system and figured out how to restore that menu, and also showed her how to use "Save as" to save to floppy so she can take it to her office. I insisted she take notes, and they seemed to be good notes.
Heather has offered to pay me for some one-on-one lessons in using the computer and the word processor. I accepted, and we'll sit down over the weekend, compare schedules, and work out a suitable time. She's smart, but has no background in computers and has been dealing with people who I would call actively unhelpful, such as a brother-in-law who changed the background on her laptop without permission and refuses to tell her how to undo his changes. Also passively unhelpful, like the one who lost one of her menus. I showed her a few things today, and I think we get along well enough that I can teach her: she said she liked my calm demeanor when working with the machine. She knows that she needs to get over a certain amount of fear of computers, and I'm fairly sure she'll be able to do so quickly.
While I was making the tea, she admired the butcher-block counter we have in the kitchen. I told hercattitude had salvaged it. She has also salvaged some useful and valuable things. Significantly, that includes a box of china--most of it broken in the act of discarding it--and silver pieces from the neighbor who told me, some weeks ago, that the people who cleaned his apartment had thrown away valuable papers. Heather fixed such of the china as she could--some of it was in too many pieces--after salvaging a bagful of stuff. Before that, she tried asking the woman who was throwing these things away why she was discarding it, and got no answer.
Unfortunately, I have to conclude that someone who would throw away not only objects that look like heirlooms (e.g., a bit of fine china engraved with two names and a date) but silver pieces with the sterling mark would also throw away important papers.
The problem turned out to be significant but not difficult to solve: someone else, in the course of "helping" her with Microsoft Word, had taken the "File" menu off, so she couldn't save the document she was working on. After lunch, I went down to her apartment, poked around the help system and figured out how to restore that menu, and also showed her how to use "Save as" to save to floppy so she can take it to her office. I insisted she take notes, and they seemed to be good notes.
Heather has offered to pay me for some one-on-one lessons in using the computer and the word processor. I accepted, and we'll sit down over the weekend, compare schedules, and work out a suitable time. She's smart, but has no background in computers and has been dealing with people who I would call actively unhelpful, such as a brother-in-law who changed the background on her laptop without permission and refuses to tell her how to undo his changes. Also passively unhelpful, like the one who lost one of her menus. I showed her a few things today, and I think we get along well enough that I can teach her: she said she liked my calm demeanor when working with the machine. She knows that she needs to get over a certain amount of fear of computers, and I'm fairly sure she'll be able to do so quickly.
While I was making the tea, she admired the butcher-block counter we have in the kitchen. I told her
cattitude had salvaged it. She has also salvaged some useful and valuable things. Significantly, that includes a box of china--most of it broken in the act of discarding it--and silver pieces from the neighbor who told me, some weeks ago, that the people who cleaned his apartment had thrown away valuable papers. Heather fixed such of the china as she could--some of it was in too many pieces--after salvaging a bagful of stuff. Before that, she tried asking the woman who was throwing these things away why she was discarding it, and got no answer.Unfortunately, I have to conclude that someone who would throw away not only objects that look like heirlooms (e.g., a bit of fine china engraved with two names and a date) but silver pieces with the sterling mark would also throw away important papers.
Heather, my downstairs neighbor whose previous cat roamed the fire escape, rang my bell earlier this afternoon. She said she had a major problem. I had a kettle up, as part of making lunch, so I told her to come in, and we shared a pot of tea while we talked.
The problem turned out to be significant but not difficult to solve: someone else, in the course of "helping" her with Microsoft Word, had taken the "File" menu off, so she couldn't save the document she was working on. After lunch, I went down to her apartment, poked around the help system and figured out how to restore that menu, and also showed her how to use "Save as" to save to floppy so she can take it to her office. I insisted she take notes, and they seemed to be good notes.
Heather has offered to pay me for some one-on-one lessons in using the computer and the word processor. I accepted, and we'll sit down over the weekend, compare schedules, and work out a suitable time. She's smart, but has no background in computers and has been dealing with people who I would call actively unhelpful, such as a brother-in-law who changed the background on her laptop without permission and refuses to tell her how to undo his changes. Also passively unhelpful, like the one who lost one of her menus. I showed her a few things today, and I think we get along well enough that I can teach her: she said she liked my calm demeanor when working with the machine. She knows that she needs to get over a certain amount of fear of computers, and I'm fairly sure she'll be able to do so quickly.
While I was making the tea, she admired the butcher-block counter we have in the kitchen. I told hercattitude had salvaged it. She has also salvaged some useful and valuable things. Significantly, that includes a box of china--most of it broken in the act of discarding it--and silver pieces from the neighbor who told me, some weeks ago, that the people who cleaned his apartment had thrown away valuable papers. Heather fixed such of the china as she could--some of it was in too many pieces--after salvaging a bagful of stuff. Before that, she tried asking the woman who was throwing these things away why she was discarding it, and got no answer.
Unfortunately, I have to conclude that someone who would throw away not only objects that look like heirlooms (e.g., a bit of fine china engraved with two names and a date) but silver pieces with the sterling mark would also throw away important papers.
The problem turned out to be significant but not difficult to solve: someone else, in the course of "helping" her with Microsoft Word, had taken the "File" menu off, so she couldn't save the document she was working on. After lunch, I went down to her apartment, poked around the help system and figured out how to restore that menu, and also showed her how to use "Save as" to save to floppy so she can take it to her office. I insisted she take notes, and they seemed to be good notes.
Heather has offered to pay me for some one-on-one lessons in using the computer and the word processor. I accepted, and we'll sit down over the weekend, compare schedules, and work out a suitable time. She's smart, but has no background in computers and has been dealing with people who I would call actively unhelpful, such as a brother-in-law who changed the background on her laptop without permission and refuses to tell her how to undo his changes. Also passively unhelpful, like the one who lost one of her menus. I showed her a few things today, and I think we get along well enough that I can teach her: she said she liked my calm demeanor when working with the machine. She knows that she needs to get over a certain amount of fear of computers, and I'm fairly sure she'll be able to do so quickly.
While I was making the tea, she admired the butcher-block counter we have in the kitchen. I told her
cattitude had salvaged it. She has also salvaged some useful and valuable things. Significantly, that includes a box of china--most of it broken in the act of discarding it--and silver pieces from the neighbor who told me, some weeks ago, that the people who cleaned his apartment had thrown away valuable papers. Heather fixed such of the china as she could--some of it was in too many pieces--after salvaging a bagful of stuff. Before that, she tried asking the woman who was throwing these things away why she was discarding it, and got no answer.Unfortunately, I have to conclude that someone who would throw away not only objects that look like heirlooms (e.g., a bit of fine china engraved with two names and a date) but silver pieces with the sterling mark would also throw away important papers.
I needed a rag, and not having one handy, grabbed (and cut up) what I thought was a no-longer-usable bra. On closer examination, it seems to be one that merely needed washing. (Now, of course, it is far from usable, having had a chunk cut out of the band.) This leads to wondering where the dead bra is (did I actually get sensible and throw it away?) and to the dismal realization that now I'm definitely having to go bra shopping, which is no fun at all.
I wonder if the front-closing sports bra I picked up at random at K-Mart a couple of weeks ago will do for all-day wear. For that matter, I wonder how many usable bras I actually own (things sometimes get tossed in a drawer and forgotten about, if they seem not quite right, but a bra that seems not quite right at one time may turn out to be okay six months, or two weeks, later).
ETA: I'm not particularly looking for sources of bras at the moment. However, if you feel so moved, it has to be 42C and non-underwire.
I wonder if the front-closing sports bra I picked up at random at K-Mart a couple of weeks ago will do for all-day wear. For that matter, I wonder how many usable bras I actually own (things sometimes get tossed in a drawer and forgotten about, if they seem not quite right, but a bra that seems not quite right at one time may turn out to be okay six months, or two weeks, later).
ETA: I'm not particularly looking for sources of bras at the moment. However, if you feel so moved, it has to be 42C and non-underwire.
I needed a rag, and not having one handy, grabbed (and cut up) what I thought was a no-longer-usable bra. On closer examination, it seems to be one that merely needed washing. (Now, of course, it is far from usable, having had a chunk cut out of the band.) This leads to wondering where the dead bra is (did I actually get sensible and throw it away?) and to the dismal realization that now I'm definitely having to go bra shopping, which is no fun at all.
I wonder if the front-closing sports bra I picked up at random at K-Mart a couple of weeks ago will do for all-day wear. For that matter, I wonder how many usable bras I actually own (things sometimes get tossed in a drawer and forgotten about, if they seem not quite right, but a bra that seems not quite right at one time may turn out to be okay six months, or two weeks, later).
ETA: I'm not particularly looking for sources of bras at the moment. However, if you feel so moved, it has to be 42C and non-underwire.
I wonder if the front-closing sports bra I picked up at random at K-Mart a couple of weeks ago will do for all-day wear. For that matter, I wonder how many usable bras I actually own (things sometimes get tossed in a drawer and forgotten about, if they seem not quite right, but a bra that seems not quite right at one time may turn out to be okay six months, or two weeks, later).
ETA: I'm not particularly looking for sources of bras at the moment. However, if you feel so moved, it has to be 42C and non-underwire.
.