Bučnica

Today is one of those quick recipe days. Bučnica is something I absolutely love and it's really easy to make. Especially when you have the ingredients, of course.

Well, I do not. I have eggs, oil and sour cream. Everything else I work with are just replacements. It took months of trials and errors before I even knew which brands and/or varieties to shop for.

First of all, I can't find the right pumpkin. I mean squash. I've talked to several different farmers and been to several different markets, yet nobody had a clue what this particular thing was:

So I had to make do with what I could find. Zucchini. Yes, I understand they are the same family, but no, they are not the same. The real thing is shredded the same way Americans shred their cheese. Actually, it is grated. Grated zucchini, however, turns into mush. I've learned my lesson and now I take my time to dice it all. It takes forever to get them to be small enough to cook evenly, yet big enough to still keep at least some of their consistence. 

The real thing I don't have.

Fake things I work with.

Then there's the dough. It can be made at home, but I don't do that - I have yet to advance to that stage. Back home in Zagreb, I'd just walk to the nearest farmer's market and buy some. I'd show you a picture, but I couldn't find any. Of course, I had to find a replacement, or something that at least remotely works. Athens Phyllo Dough works, but it's far from the real thing. The sheets are to thin and absolutely tasteless. Actually, they are pretty similar to paper and often are hard to work with. But when there's nothing better... you get the point, right?

Next thing is cottage cheese, also known as fresh cheese. There are plenty of tubs here that say exactly that - cottage cheese. No fat, yes fat, random fat, low fat, this, that... but none of those actually contain what I need. Hell, what I want. Most of them are full of gum and other weird thickeners that disintegrate when heated. If baked or warmed up in any way, your so-called cheese turns into whey and strings. Actually, it often resembles glue. It's disgusting, to be honest. In the beginning, I gave up on any and all meals that called for cottage a.k.a. fresh cheese. But then I found Daisy.

Oddly enough, and unlike other brands, Daisy cottage cheese is made of - milk. Well, mostly milk. There is still sour cream in it (yes, I do understand that sour cream is, in fact, milk) and salt. And some vitamin. But at least there is no gum of any sort and no sugar either. I don't like the taste of this product on its own, though. It's not even close to the cheese I know. But it works every once in a while when I need it for cooking. I also buy Daisy sour cream. Not the light version of it. All other sour creams sucked.

Here is what I greatly miss and I really would settle for any variety:

These gorgeous guys do not contain any salt, gum or weird things one could find in a tub. So far, I have found something kind of similar only once, at a small Eastern-market-oriented store in Minneapolis. It wasn't too good and it was more than $7 for a tiny little package. It was still better than the tub of curds, that's for sure.

I could complain about eggs, too, but I won't. (LOL) I'll just say that I pay almost twice as much to have my eggshell be brown and or a sliver of hope that the yolk will be anything than pale pale pale yellow. It never is, though.

So, uh, yeah. Recipe. And I even said it was going to be quick, huh?

Get some zucchini. Needs to be washed, peeled and diced. It's actually ok with the peel on, too, but in that case I'd go with organic, I suppose.

Get some eggs. I'd say four, especially if they are brown (they come in extra small sizes, pretty much). 

Get the Athens Phyllo Dough, or make your own sheets.

Buy some Daisy, both sour cream and cottage cheese. Do not go for light versions, as they are not for people.

Also needed: oil, salt.

Beat two eggs, throw in the cheese, add zucchini and sprinkle some salt. Even though there's salt in the cheese, it won't be enough (and this is coming from someone who is not a fan of salt). 

Spread out two sheets of phyllo at the time and smear some oil all over one side of them. Add the mixture. Roll. Put in the baking tray.

Beat the other two eggs, add some sour cream and pour all over the rolls. Stuff into the oven (360-ish F) and bake until it's done. It's done when it turns brown and when the entire house starts smelling really good. This is the final product:

The whole tray has about 1700 calories and safely feeds four. Or more, if this isn't the main course or if it's served as dessert. I'd offer it with some yogurt.

Long story short - this is a very good meal. Especially if you've never had the real thing.

Unfinished... everything?

I am the master of unfinished... everything.  It's kind of hard to keep track of everything I think of. Or things I start. Things I think about starting. Things I start thinking about. Or even of one small part of any of the above. Sometimes I wonder if I have some sort of ADHD-like issues. 

And that, I might.

Now... what is she trying to come up with, again?!

Over a year ago, we bought a house. Way bigger than what we need(ed). It was back then when I decided I was going to have a studio. My own studio! A craft room. So I picked the smallest of rooms, this one here:

Nobody died in there - that was just a pile of furniture hiding under the blanket. A year or so later, I finally redecorated the room. I admit - we paid someone to paint the walls. I was going to do it myself and then I didn't. Oops. I did pick my own colors and I bought them too. Dragged them all the way home. Or, well, I drove.

And here is the final product, at least in terms of color. Everything else is still in the works. I add, remove, change, reorganize, disorganize, erase, draw... I suppose the whole room is just an ongoing process and might never be done. This is what my (non)creative mess looks like:

Things are just lying around, I know. Some I know where to put, some I have no clue about. Some probably don't even belong in this room. What I am really proud of, everything in it was really cheap and was collected at random clearance sales. I suppose that's another thing that adds to the whole ongoing process story. And that's also the reason the room is, at the same time, sensical and nonsensical. It's probably my little girl room I never really had. For some things, I guess, it is never too late.

This could be one of the few finished projects in the room - a cheap shelf I found at Target, some random little figurines of bugs and two plush toys from, possibly-maybe, Walmart clearance sale:

Unfinished project #1 - a puzzle. I put it together, but never mounted onto a wall of some sort, or even the panel it is resting on. Oops. 

Then there are things with unfinished frames or unfinished... layout ideas:

Mini Trikky do-it-yourself doesn't seem to be doing himself at all. I suppose he, too, is waiting for my magic touch.

And then, finally, another thing I did finish. Curtains. I measured, cut, designed... did everything myself. They were hand-sewn because I am sewing machine impaired. Or, well, I never bothered to learn how to use one. That needs to change, too. Eventually.

Kittica enjoys sneaking into that room and exploring all the junk. I bet she does. But this is kind of how she feels about it:

There is yet another thing I thought I would love doing. Actually, I am pretty sure I would. I just can't seem to start. It's a book I bought about a month ago, during our trip to Des Moines/Kansas City. I found it at a small local gift store. Or some sort everything store. There was a hyperactive girl in it and she tried hard to start up a random conversation with me. I admit, sometimes I am a sucker for those, but it didn't really work out with her. I left with this book and, sadly, it's still lying around... just as blank as it was when I first got it.

Soon I will tackle this one, I promise. (Hm. What happens if I don't?)

And here is another (ADHD-like) confession to make: I signed up for (yet another) project tonight. Yup. Thanks to Petra from Bag of Pretty, I stumbled upon a website - The Sketchbook Project: Limited Edition. And then I signed up for it. I have to admit I have no clue when, exactly, the deadline is (perhaps April 30th?), but it did let me sign up and it did say they were going to send me my notebook. Whee! I mean, okay, even if I am late for this year, I suppose it would still work for next year, right? Or, if it all fails, I guess it's still a nice donation to something really cool.

Either way, there just has to be something that will make me start drawing again. I must be getting very rusty.

Another random creation

There was not much time and there was absolutely no desire to go shopping for food. And there's a meal to be had tomorrow, of course. So I made do with what was lying around. I think it's pretty good, while Derek considers my reasonably tasty creation just food. He's too used to junk. Ha. He got a pile of ravioli with cheese yesterday, so now it's my turn to choose.

I cooked a risotto. With no rice. I used barley because it's healthier and because I had some lying around. The rest of the meal consists of butternut squash, champignon mushrooms and shallots. And half a Knorr cube of that chicken non-goodness (bouillon) because I had to quickly come up with something that would add some moisture and wouldn't be water.

So here's the recipe of today's goodness:

1 small box of champignon mushrooms. If I recall correctly, those are about 225 grams, or around 8 ounces for the metric-challenged.

1 small butternut squash, diced (mine was around 400 grams / 14 ounces) 

2 bigger shallots. Or at least I believe the two I used were big.

2 tablespoons of olive oil

1/2 tablespoon of white truffle oil

1/2 buillon cube dissolved in about half a cup of water. Or more. Or whatever.

3/4 cup raw barley

Some salt, pepper and dried chives.

Chop shallots, throw on a teflon pan along with olive oil. Add the squash. Cover. Stir. Add mushrooms after  a while. Stir every now and then. Cook barley separately - boil some arbitrary amount of water, add salt, add rinsed and drained barley. Cook until satisfied, whatever that is. Drain, set aside. (If you're me, weigh the pile, too. You can never be sure, right? My pile of cooked barley weighed 260 grams, just for the record.) Check the main part of the dish. Stir. Add chives. Add some of the buillon. Stir. Add truffle oil. Try some. Decide if it's good; if it isn't - adjust to taste. Eventually mix barley and the vegetables together. Pour in more buillon if it seems dry. Take a photo. Throw back into the pot. Put a lid on. Save for tomorrow.

Easy, right? 

It feeds three, I think. We'll have nothing but this, though. If served as a side dish, it could be for four or even five people. 905 calories in the pile. Around 300 for a meal... not bad. Actually, probably not even enough. Oops?

Burn. Burn. Buuuuuuuuuuurn!

Nah, I'm not turning into a pyromaniac. I've just been bored. And fat. So I've decided to go back to the gym and kill some boredom by burning some fat off. I've not gained anything since I quit daily exercise, but I've not lost anything either. And that is teh suck.

Cyanide and Happiness is one of my favourite things ever!

I think I've already complained about how there's not much for me to do here in our little town. I think I've already complained about how there are no exercise classes for me to take, unless I quit my job and start attending pilates at 10 in the morning, or perhaps noon. 

Remember the cycling class I mentioned? Well, that didn't work out. I was excited to go and when I finally got there, I became excited to leave. I actually jumped off the machine and walked out after about 30 minutes. It made no sense. Two of us were new, yet the instructor couldn't care less. She showed us how to adjust the seats and that was about it. The rest of the class she kept using abbreviations and some weird lingo only an experienced cyclist would figure out. Oh well. I could barely hear her anyway because she had some lovely Guns N' Roses from the '90s playing in the background. Uh, yeah, sorry. It was not the music, it was us in the background. They also had six huge fans running and there was not a single spot in that little exercise room where you could hide from the tornado they were making. So I left. What really sealed the coffin for me, on top of all other things that were wrong, was the darkness of the room. Yup. She turned the lights off, too. What for? Well, that I do not know.

After the cycling fiasco, I had to sit down and think about my exercise life. So I did. 

I've been dragging my big butt to the Y every single day for about ten days now. I've not gone twice, but both days I got more than enough exercise raking the lawn and cleaning the house. So that counts for something, too, I suppose. I've also signed up for this thingie and made it my slave. Yup. It does the hard work for me, which is what I used to do by myself for a long, long time. Well, okay, it does not really do all of it, but it's still pretty good - it has issues with homemade meals, of course, since it was developed in the Land of the Box. But I still like it and we might be best friends... forever. Or for as long as it takes to get the remaining piles of lard shaken off my ballerina body.  (Yes, you do have the right to die laughing here.)

It's been fun and I'm glad to see some progress already. It seems I've lost about 1.3 kilos (2.9 pounds) in 9 days. Good enough, or actually pretty damn good, considering the fact that I put .5 kg (1 pound) a week as my goal. Yup, I know it will slow down in just a few weeks and I know I'll once more get frustrating counting the loss of centimeters and no progress in the weight department, but oh well. 

No stopping until my butt gets back into Levi's size 29.

(Okay, okay. I will settle for 30, but that's only because I wore 29 when I was 17 for the first time around. I still weighed a ton, but that's just an unresolved mystery. :LOLZ; :ROFLZ: :LMAOZ: :MEOW:)

P.S. Tonight I made friend with one of the gym's ellipticals (a.k.a. Orbitrek). About time. I am so proud of my disorganized limbs. That's one small step for my today's workout, one giant leap for the future of it. Yes, I just felt like being pathetic. :drumroll:  (I'll make you my bitch, Elliptical. Just you wait.)

P.P.S. Yes, shoot me if, say, all of a sudden I start running. :insert_a_big_lol_here:

Tonight I made up a meal and it was good

I actually planned to write about something else, but this meal I cooked tonight deserves an entry. If anything, I wish to keep the recipe and, at this point, I still remember what I mixed together.

The whole deal was nothing but one of those random let's clean the fridge kind of moments. So I did. I picked out a bag of frozen shrimp (yeah... shrimp that would make those from the Adriatic shriek in horror), a zucchini, steamable broccoli florets and some other leftover things. And then I decided I will somehow cook it all together with some quinoa. So I did.

Here are the ingredients, in case someone is willing to experiment as well. Or, well, recreate this light and refreshing masterpiece. It is, in fact, a summer meal, but summer in Minnesota doesn't last long enough, ok?

Aha, ingredients. Here they are:

300 grams of shrimp, which is, for metric-impaired, 10.5 ounces

1 medium zucchini, sliced, diced, whatevered, with peel of course

4 small and thin green onions, sliced

about a handful of steamed broccoli florets

2 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil

some chopped parsley (regular, for European people; Italian for Americans)

juice from about 1/2 of a lemon, freshly squeezed

1 tablespoon of butter

3/4 of a cup of quinoa (both regular and red)

50 ml of Redwood Creek California Chardonnay 2008 

1 big clove of garlic

The whole deal equals about 1220 calories and feeds, I'd say, four people. 

I prepared the quinoa first. I brought about a cup of water and some of that wine to a boil, threw in the grains, simmered for about 15 minutes in a covered saucepan. Added some salt; quantity unknown.

Meanwhile, I chopped what had to be chopped and tossed it in a non-stick pan, along with the oil. So here came the garlic, green onions, zucchini and parsley. And then they cooked. For a while. I never pay attention to time (unless I am in a hurry, of course). I added the broccoli, as well as the shrimp. And then lemon juice and the remaining wine. Quite possibly some salt and freshly ground peppercorns. Something was missing so I threw in a tablespoon of butter. Unsalted butter, of course. And that was it.

Once I decided this was cooked, I mixed it with the quinoa. Voila. Excellent meal. I would suggest trying this at home.

Missouri: Southern, but not really Southern

Or something like that. Looks like it's the Show-Me state, but I don't really know what they are showing (off). I did do some googling and this is what I came up with. The state motto is kind of cute. Or a bit pretentious, I suppose. They love their Latin, huh? "Salus populi suprema lex esto" it says and, at least according to the neighbourhood we stayed in, the welfare of the people is the supreme law. Actually, it's more like wealth, too.
 

Kansas City, the one in Missouri that we visited, borders another Kansas City. How odd? Not really. There are several in the US. On our way there, we also visited Waterloo, Albany and many other places. Just not the real ones. The city center, meaning the blocks with skyscrapers in them, is quite bigger than Des Moines and, I think, even Minneapolis. The highway system is a lot easier to figure out without navigation or even maps than what it is here in Minnesota. We hopped off I-35 and pretty much found ourselves downtown. No map, no navigation. My inner compass dragged us all the way to the hotel, too.

We were staying in a neighbourhood called Country Club Plaza. It's for them richies, it seems, but we somehow managed to find one single hotel (Holiday Inn) that was charging reasonable prices per night. Like, about one third of what other places wanted for a room with just about nothing in it. Or perhaps those other ones would have had a microwave and a fridge for two hundred more. Who knows.

The first night, we explored the neighbourhood by driving around. We went into the Plaza (it's actually a shopping center, but with regular stores instead of the boring mall ones), drove around, shopped. Walked a bit. Found a restaurant. Sat down. Sat down outside, wearing nothing but thin long sleeve shirts. And this was at almost ten in the evening (or is it ten at night?) in late October. The place was called Kona Grill and the food was awesome. Like, really awesome. We had no idea it was a chain at all (other than Big Bowl, which is pretty good, other chain restaurants are really easy to figure out) - I actually learned about it just now, as I searched the Internet for a possible website for this venue. It seems to be a sushi bar of some sort, or just overall relies on that kind of cuisine.

I had the best cucumber salad ever. Tasty sliced cucumbers, some crab sticks, some algae and a ton of sesame. Unknown dressing, but I'd say it was some rice vinegar or something similar, with a bit of honey and a hint of ginger. Actually, it doesn't even matter what it was, it was simply awesome. I took a few photos of our meals, but only with the cell phone. It would have been a bit too much, again, running around with the EOS.

As usual, Derek went with two appetizers and I choose two different rolls. Again, I was too big a chicken to go with raw fish or seafood. Can't do it, pretty much ever, as I don't trust anyone living this far from any and all seawater. So it was a vegetable roll and then one with shrimp and crab for me. The cool part about the crabby one was the cucumber my roll was wrapped in. It came in place of the nori. Tasty!

There are Derek's potstickers (ick! ick! ick!) in that picture, as well. And then he also had some chicken satay with the best peanut sauce ever. And this is coming from someone who really doesn't like peanut sauce. Price? Really affordable. There were some leftovers we took to the room, too, but they ended up in the garbage can the next morning as we had no refrigerator to stuff our goodies in.

The whole area, the Plaza center that is, was insanely alive. The whole setup reminded me of Dubrovnik in the middle of summer, when you can't really move around, let alone find a parking spot or even a table at a cafe or a restaurant. After quite some time, the whole thing made me feel alive again. There was movement, people were actually walking (!!!) and they were dressed a lot better than what I'm used to seeing around here. There was a lot of noise, chatter, music and overall - sounds of life. Neat. 

The next morning, I walked back there with the camera around my neck and the wallet in my purse (yeah, right... purse). As I kept moving, the wallet part grew thinner. Ohwell. After all, that was some shopping mecca down there and the prices were really good. I already said on Facebook, but I'll admit to it one more time here: yup, I do have my moments of being horribly shallow and yes, I did like it. It felt good. I enjoyed dragging my paper bags with ribbons and tissue paper. It was so much different than two years of good deals at local sales (Target, yes, it's okay, I still love you and will be back).

One thing I could not find were shoes. It looks like nobody cares, even there, what they wear on their feet. They had a few stores with something on a heel, but, hey, that's not for me. They had a couple orthopedic shoe stores, too (no, they are not prescription shoes, it's just what I tend to call a random, average American shoe store... can't help it) and that was about it. There was an Aldo and I have to admit it kind of cracked me up. One of those used to be in the center of Zagreb and, as much as I know, it went out of business. It was nothing special, let alone expensive, yet it somehow made its way to this Plaza in Kansas City, too. I did want a pair of cheapish shoes from this store, but the style and/or size just didn't quite work out for me. I'll just have to order something online. There is nothing in Mankato (other than some sneaker-like things, such as All Stars and the like, that I usually pick up at some sale for just about no money), and there's pretty much nothing in Minneapolis either. Orthopedics for the win!

The whole Plaza area is cute, but also insanely tacky and funny. Apparently, Kansas City is the second city in the world when it comes to fountains. It's right after Rome. They seem to be in love with Spain, as well as Italy, but that's only in this little neighbourhood (they even have gondolas, hello!). Everything else looks just about hundred percent American.

 

The rest of the second day we spent shopping (yes, ok, again) and then driving dowtown, where we went to during the rush hour. I mean, it was supposed to be a rush hour, five o'clock and all, but there was pretty much nothing. We got stuck at one traffic light and that was it. Approximately twenty minutes after five, the downtown was as dead as Des Moines on a Monday morning (see previous blog entry, or this album here). There was nothing left, other than the huge skyscrapers. No people, no movement. Just buses and a homeless person here and there. This is where my bubble got popped. Up until this point, I kind of believed Kansas City was the shit. Well, not really. Or not everywhere. The Plaza lives and I guess the Power and Light District does as well. But those two don't seem to be enough for me, I suppose. Yeah, ok, I'm picky.

The second day's meal was horrible. Derek picked out some restaurant in some different neighbourhood, a little bit further south from where we were. It was supposed to be good, but I guess all the eighty-some reviewers must've been some people with no taste in foods. It was, or at least was supposed to be a family run bistro, but all we were given were some horrible industrial/frozen dishes. Whatever. Considering the price of this so-called food, which was similar to what we paid at Kona, I was tempted to argue, but then didn't. I practiced my zen there, I suppose. We went back to the hotel eventually and chewed on our French bread from Des Moines (at this point, slightly old and dry, yet still edible).

On Thursday morning, we drove into Kansas and went out before we knew it. This adds yet another state to my list of those I have visited so far, whee. On this same day, we went all the way back to Mankato in one stretch, even though we originally planned to stay in Des Moines overnight. It was a beautiful day for driving and the roads were perfect, too. I enjoyed each and every one of the 650-ish kilometers (400-ish miles). The cat was happy to see us a day sooner and, well, the guy we found in our bathroom didn't mind our presence either.

All in all, this was a good trip. It took five days and about 1500 kilometers (930-ish miles) to see all these things and we only needed two and a half tanks of gas. That's almost odd for our gas-eating machine. (I keep telling Derek he should buy me a Rav4 for my birthday, but it doesn't seem to be happening...)

Iowa was better than expected, Missouri even more. They were even pretty interesting to drive through, except for the northern part of Iowa where they really don't have anything but corn. Like, literally nothing. Missouri people are really warm and pleasant and they speak some weird mix of heavy Southern accent and I-don't-wanna-be-Southern kind of thing. Actually, the younger they are, the more they try not to sound Southern. It also matters where you encounter them, too. If it's your hotel reception area, they will easily offer you some shramp, fewt, sirl or aspergers. If you're shopping at Armani, they will make sure they don't understand you if you ask for those.

What I learned from this trip? Hm. Well, I keep learning that just about everything is more about the people than just the looks of it. And I don't know my people. Or I'm simply too different to fit in. It's mostly about the things I'm used to as opposed to those they seem to like. Kansas City was, for sure, a bigger kick than, say, Mankato (I still haven't really experienced much of anything in Minneapolis, as I pretty much never get to go there in the evening, thanks to my work and the American way of life), but it still really isn't the right thing. I actually am not sure that any cities here ever will be. I'm too used to being European and living in an European environment. And it's different. Very, very different.

I do, however, enjoy seeing different things. So... a few eons from now, when I manage to line up another vacation, I'm sure we'll find something new to bite into.

P.S. More pictures from Kansas City can be found here.

Iowa: American Ghostland

Okay. I messed up. Originally, I was going to work on this blog entry the first day we arrived in Iowa. Or possibly yesterday, when I walked the streets of Des Moines for the first time. But it didn't happen because, at the end of the day, I was too tired to do so. Ohwell.

Anyway. We're on vacation. As in, we are off work, not at home and are, for the most part, doing things that at least somewhat differ from everyday chores and activities. We are not at a lake cabin of some sort, a resort, or in the woods, hunting. Or fishing. We are not going to bars or casinos either. I guess many wouldn't even refer to what we are doing as vacation, then. Ohwell, again.

We decided to go to Iowa, which made just about everyone laugh their ass off. I am not quite sure why, though. It's just another state and, after all, it's pretty similar to Minnesota. Hell, it's pretty much the same. Corn field here, corn field there. The end.

We stopped in Albert Lea (still in Minnesota). I expected too much from this town, I guess, probably because of its lovely name. There was nothing. By which I mean - nothing. Not a thing. Not a soul. It was lunch time, so we stopped at the only place that looked like it wouldn't literally poison us. This is the wholesome meal we had (yes, there was a Happy Meal involved and yes, I got to keep the bucket):

Soon enough, we made it to Ames. Actually, stopping in Ames was absolutely random. We had no clue what it was, yet it turned out to be a pretty interesting town. It's the home of The Cyclones, which I guess are some team belonging to Iowa State University. Rugby, I bet. (Yes, rugby. Football is the thing played with your feet.) Go, Cyclones, I guess. They're also really into fraternities and sororities, it seemed. They also have weird hula-swans.

Next stop - Des Moines. Nice looking city: a few skyscrapers, some skywalks... looked promising. It was pretty easy to figure out how to get around and we pretty much just stumbled upon the hotel we were supposed to stay in. The room was the size of an average European apartment, with a king bed, which resembled a smaller stadium. We even had a kitchenette. This was a gift from Derek's parents, for our birthdays. The two of us are too cheap for this kind of luxury. We stayed at Renaissance Savory, right downtown. The room was one of those with a view:

Night time, with a lovely shadow of my beautiful self.

And, given that all the literature was in its right place... we hoped for a good, peaceful night:

The room was really good, though. Comfortable bed, functioning bathroom. What else does one need, anyway? The deal came with no breakfast, so I went hunting in the morning. There was a bakery down the street, but it didn't open until eleven (to make it even worse, it closes at two in the afternoon). Actually, this is where I learned that Iowa, or at least Des Moines, was a ghost town. Beautiful buildings, nice streets and nobody to use them. Yup. I left the hotel at ten in the morning, came back around noon and saw maybe ten people during my walk. There were plenty of stores, but most were closed. They either don't care to unlock their doors on Mondays, or they start sometime late. Or close at four or five. Weird. We didn't see many people during their rush hour either. So, yeah, I guess Iowans are actually ghosts and they built their entire state for random visitors.The weather was perfect, though. High seventies, or, for my dearest Europeans - around 25 degrees Celsius. I actually got somewhat sunburnt.

Things to see in Des Moines? Downtown, for sure. It's interesting. They have a beautiful modern public library. They have a sculpture garden, somewhat smaller in size than the one in Minneapolis, but just as interesting and neat. Actually, it seems they both have the same artists' stuff on display.

 

 

There's an area called East Village, which they consider to be historic and awesome. It was cute, but at the same time, it was pretty dead, too. That's where I encountered closed stores and weird working hours. Too bad. 

Then they have food. It took some effort to pick the restaurants we wanted to go to. The first night, we ate at Centro. Italian. It looked good, the staff knew what they were doing (unlike the majority of waiters and waitresses in Mankato) and the food was pretty damn good for something so simple as random Italian. I was pleased to see that they left the pretentious part out of the equation. No beds of arugula caught my eye and I have to admit this was more than enough for me to like the place. Derek ate some salmon, I ate some parmesan encrusted aubergine with salsa and spaghetti. Before that, we shared a bowl of tomato bisque. Yup. It was that simple.

On Monday evening, we chose Django, owned by the same guy who has Centro, as well as South Union Bread (where we ate lunch the same day). Yup. Three different meals, three different places, one owner. And we had no clue beforehand. Django is also downtown and also looks pretty damn good. Plain and simple, yet classy. Again, the staff knew how to serve the meals, when to pick up the plates or simply pour more water into our glasses (yup, glasses, as in cups made of glass, something that a great deal of Mankato eateries have yet to discover and implement). The food was even better than what we had at Centro. Tomato-artichoke bisque to begin with, then some tilapia (with pistachios!) and mashed potatoes with pickled red cabbage for me and homemade goat cheese&spinach ravioli for Derek. They also had some cheese platers to gnaw on, so we gnawed. Manchego from Spain, homemade crackers and fig marmelade. Yup, good stuff. Would have been an A+ had it come on a wooden cutting board. This way, dear Frenchies, it's just a plain A.

Looks like iPad vine lists are the shit these days. Too bad we don't drink, I guess.

We left Des Moines on Tuesday afternoon, or actually, right at noon. The original plan was to visit Omaha, Nebraska, but, luckily, we changed our plans. I googled it on Monday night one more time and decided it looked too ugly, as well as boring. If that isn't true, well, dear Omaha, you've got to thank this picture. It made me not want to go there. (Okay, I have to admit that I failed to find any articles or something similar that could or would have convinced me to drag my ass there either.)

Kansas City won our today's lottery. It seemed big, it was close enough and they had an affordable hotel room available in the area we wanted to be in. And I guess the Wikipedia entry for KC did a better job than the one for Omaha. They included a better photo, too.

So that's where we went. And on our way out, we stopped at a bakery. Yup. A real bakery. Like those at home. At home home, there, across the ocean. We googled this one, as well and it looked promising, but I trust nothing and nobody before I see it. This was, for sure, worth seeing. It's almost worth going back to Des Moines for. The atmosphere, the smell, the prices and the variety of baked goods.... ohyes. I had bread today, that I did not bake myself, for the first time since October of last year, in Zagreb. Gorgeous.

Off to Missouri we went.