Rare, Collectible, & Otherwise

Tag: Books and Bistro (Page 82 of 92)

In the Raw is cooking!

Cookin’ up a construction storm, that is…

Someday soon, you’ll be eating sushi where this dirt is. And when I say, “You’ll be eating sushi,” that is to say “I won’t be, but maybe I’ll watch you enjoy your meal.”

Nothing against the dish and certainly no ill-will toward In The Raw, which will be serving dinners to the public from the location in the accompanying image. I just don’t think I’m ready for raw fish. Oh, sure. A raw fish is fine when it’s dangling from your fishing hook and a raw fish is dandy just before it goes into the skillet.

I just need that cooking process to come between the raw portion of the meal – and my mouth.

They’ve made some progress in downtown Broken Arrow, although it is low to the ground. In the ground, actually. The foundation for their new building is set, and I’m sure things will be rising quickly from that solid planting.

It would be great if they could get their facility up and the restaurant readied by the time the Rose District project is completed. According to the paper this morning, that should be late October-early November, depending on what project is being discussed. They hope to have it all in place before the holiday shopping season rolls around.

In the meantime, those of us already in our buildings are trying to keep from wringing our hands and worrying. I’m not complaining about any of it, because it does no good fussing over it and – I’ve learned – time seems to be flying right along. I’ll turn around a couple of times and the whole thing will be finished.

The second image shows where the brick planters are nearing completion on the east side of Main, south of Commercial Street. (You can click it for a larger view…) I trotted down the block to snap a shot before the sun dropped below the edge of the rooftops. Workers were rolling up the bright orange construction fencing, but I couldn’t tell if they were removing it or simply relocating it.

As with any big remodel, the sidewalk supervisors among us have a variety of opinions. I believe about half of the folks mention that “it seems to be taking forever,” while the others are marveling at how “fast they are moving along.” Probably it is somewhere right in between those observations.

Here is a news flash: The images are courtesy of my just arrived replacement cell phone. Purchased on eBay: $20… Bluetooth photo transfer: Priceless.

The phone is the same model as the one I washed in the laundry. It felt comfortable in my hand as soon as I removed it from the mailer. In fact, it proved to be pretty painless to get the phone transferred to my phone number. Sent a text message already. Got one back. Checked the alarm function and camera. Battery recharging just fine.

This little beauty does it all – all except make a call.

The telephone function appears to be crippled unfortunately, and in the case of a phone that is something of a disappointment. Early diagnosis? The built-in speaker is kaput. No ringtones, no music, no internet-provided audio. No hear-y when people speak-y.

Other than that, I love it.

I’m going to try an earbud to see if it will pass along sound that way.

If not, my texting skills are bound to improve in a hurry.

Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main Street, Broken Arrow OK!

A Cheesy Congratulations!

Congratulations! To Lovera’s Famous Italian Market in beautiful downtown Krebs, Oklahoma! Earlier this month, their handmade cheese won two awards at a national competition. In Wisconsin, of course – home of the self-proclaimed Green Bay Packers cheese-heads.

For those of you who haven’t sampled the Krebs cuisine, you’ve certainly missed some special dining. Pete’s Place is probably the best known of the Pittsburg County Italian restaurants located just east of McAlester. The Prichard family has been preparing Italian food and Choc beer since the early 1900s. The Lovera family has had a steady run with their Krebs food market as well, and their reputation seems to keep growing.

Ms Middleton of the Tulsa World featured the business in a Monday morning article.

Before reaching high school age, I was fortunate enough to attend a combined McAlester-Krebs school, where the middle-school-aged students were bused the three miles or so over to St. Josephs School. There, the cafeteria was staffed mainly by volunteer moms who whipped up lunches, Italian style. I’d had spaghetti before, of course – but it was courtesy of my dad and a can opener. This was something entirely different.

As is the case with a lot of things encountered in those early years, the special nature of those pans of fresh garlic bread and ravioli weren’t appreciated until years later. I guess I assumed every kid had the same sort of lunch program.

I suppose that’s where I got my kitchen start – as a tray-stacking, floor-sweeping, plate scraping volunteer. The way I figured it, it got me out of class a little early and I got to ease back into the post-lunch studies a little late. The kitchen activities didn’t strike me as work at all, and even provided a life changing event for me.

Part of my pre-serving duties was to get the little milk cartons organized to set them onto the trays as the kids passed down the serving line. One of the cooks (someone’s trickster Mom) said she thought one of the crates was full of cartons of spoiled milk. Maybe they were just beyond their “good until” date. Somehow it was suggested that someone needed to sample one to find out. I volunteered and pried open the waxy-paper flaps.

Didn’t even bother to take a sniff. I just tipped up and gulped down. You can’t truly appreciate a great spoiled milk until your mouth is full of it.

That was it for me and milk.

I kept it down, though, and survived the episode. Got a couple of laughs from those watching – you know – from that I-just-drank-spoiled-milk face pucker. After that day: Milk? Not so much. Actually, closer to never again.

Too many associated memories with that one.

But recalling the Italian food, remembering the Lovera market with its tastes and aromas – that’s different.

When so many family businesses have a difficult time through the generations and when small businesses in general have enough roadblocks to continued success, it’s nice to see one still plugging away.

And doing a great job of it.

You can visit Lovera’s and the Krebs Italian eateries by rolling down through Okmulgee or Muskogee (depending on your highway of choice) and crossing the highway on the east side of McAlester. Ninety minutes from Broken Arrow, or thereabouts.

When you find yourself in downtown Broken Arrow, come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main Street, Broken Arrow, OK!

Gummed up, by Gum…

Remember getting your driver’s license? The test? That first driver’s license photograph? As noted here previously, times change.

I read somewhere that teenagers don’t aspire to drive cars like they used to. Don’t remember what the percentages were, but in my own case, I counted the days until the Big Sixteenth, which meant I could get my license.

In fact, I wanted to drive so badly that I did it anyway, with a secretly acquired key to that big-finned black Chevrolet. That was so long ago that my first driver’s license didn’t have my picture on it. They were made out of some kind of fuzzy thick paper that allowed for the easy changing of the year of birth. Not that I know anything about that. Can’t do it anymore, in this day and age, when things are different.

According to the item, the cost of gasoline was cited as one reason why an increasing number of teens are disinclined to become drivers. Lack of a car was another. Some just had a general malaise about the whole idea of getting behind the wheel.

It seemed like everyone wanted to drive when I was young. You’d dream about the car, and pick out a radio – or stereo, if you could afford one. You might sit out in the car after dinner, just listening to music and maybe wiping the dashboard down in case a speck of dust might have settled there.

Don’t think I was fanatical, really. But my friends joked that I changed jobs the way they changed cars and I kept cars like I was expecting a gold watch when I retired from my driving career. I’ve had the Firebird over a decade.

Just spent half an hour and nearly ten bucks trying to high-pressure wash the black dots of tree sap from the red paint. Sweetgum tree. Not so sweet to park under. Honestly, I should have done the wash-off a couple of weekends ago, but didn’t. Now, it’s baked on. My pants legs are soaked and my shoes are squishy with water from the overspray at the car wash. Still wouldn’t come clean. At least it was a nice evening for a washjob, especially considering the time of year. In fact, there was a nice cooling breeze as I blasted the water around and I was surprised to see a hot air balloon drifting over BA as I drove to the auto parts store.

O’Reilly’s has an aerosol-spray bug and tar cleaner – on sale, thankfully – which also promised to remove tree sap, that I grabbed for another go at it tomorrow.

Who’d a thought? When I visit the shopping centers, I park the car at the far end of the north forty so I don’t get a door ding, and then all but ruin the paint by leaving it under the tree beside the driveway.

Back in the day (which means about a lifetime ago) I used to enjoy washing the car. Not an everyday kind of thing, but more of a non-chore that needed to be done somewhat regularly. Back then it was inside and out. Today? Not so much. There are lots of things I’d rather be doing with my time.

But – by gum – I’ll be washing again tomorrow. By sweetgum, that is.

The street should be reopened by Monday, and all the dinosaur-looking yellow machines should be parked somewhere besides right in front of the shop door… so – Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St. Broken Arrow OK!

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