PuBlog - Heartattack and Frank(s)

Fieldwork at the Elgin Street Diner, by Aggie, Woodsy, 4th Dwarf, and Coyote.

Pluses (Concepts to Steal)

• Big booths with comfy seating!
• A congenial view of Elgin Street, centre of the known universe;
• Beer on tap;
• ALL! KINDS! OF! POUTINE! They even have a dedicated section in the menu.

Minuses (Things to Avoid)

• Not so much space under the booth for illicit doggie types who were smuggled into the diner in backpacks and didn't want big trouble with health inspectors. They got kicked. I don't think anybody did it on purpose. Well, maybe that Dwarf. But he's such a shortass, he couldn't really reach me.
• The view of Elgin Street was kind of lost on those of us hiding under the table. Although the others were kind enough to describe what I was missing, and suggest that it was too bad I couldn't stick my head out to look, because the cat parade was really something;
• The beer on tap was domestic. Not microbrew. Selection, according to the Dwarf, was in the tradition of Canadian major brewers: thin, and kinda undistinguished;
• Poutine may just be the single most lethal food known to humanity Or caninity.

Background:
Longtime ESI readers probably suspect (correctly) that by now we've left enough loose ends strewn in our narrative wake to stock a world-class hair extension factory. PuBlog research is one such thread. It's about touring city eateries, baldfacedly swiping their best ideas, pewpewing their worst, and using the intel thus gained to start our own pub best damn pub in the world.

We recorded our last true PuBlog post even before the Dwarf started cooking up his Revolutionary New Dating Paradigm. You'll notice, if ennui hasn't knocked you out yet, that he's been on it for nearly two years and 30 posts. It still ain't baked. Sadly, neither is the ESI pub. But we persevere. And I dogress.

Summary:
We who orbit Woodsy and Aggie know all too well that, despite deceptively delicate demeanours, either is at any moment fully capable of inducing heart attacks in the unsuspecting, for all sorts of risque reasons. But I have never before witnessed 'em scarfing heart attacks on plates...

Dog-tired and starved after a full, lunchless day of full-bore Hallowe'en costuming, Woodsy dove straight for the four-cheese poutine. Amid heated speculation about which four cheeses, exactly, were involved, Woodsy double-dog-dared Agatha to order the same thing. Aggie, her blood glucose levels not so deficient that she couldn't rouse a mild fit of oppositional defiance, ordered chili poutine instead. The Short Guy, pursuing the best of all possible worlds, had a brace of chili-cheese dogs with fries. Nobody heard me ask for catburger from under the table, but all three slipped me fries off their plates to make up for it. Well, okay, the Dwarf tried to pelt me with his. But I am talented. I caught 'em and ate 'em. Thank you, Short Guy!

Conclusion:
Puh-lease. Exhaustion? Mega calories? Empty stomachs? Instant snooze-out. Everybody sloped off for post-prandial naps. At 6:30 on a Saturday night. Jeez, we're dull! Aggie said something about feeling really full and a little ill. But she still gave me a ride home. And let me stick my head out the car window and hang my tongue in the wind on the way. She indulges me. And maybe over-indulged herself...

Another Friday Night with Fourth Dwarf

"Care to see a flick Friday night?" a pretty pixie asked me this week.

Always liking it when the lady makes the first move, I happily agreed. "What are we going to see?"

"There will be Blood," she told me.

"Gee, sweety," I said. "I don't like vampire movies."

"Don't worry," she said, "it's not a vampire movie. You'll like it, I promise."

"Oh, ho!" I thought. "It must be a pirate movie!" (Wrong, but I'm getting ahead of myself.)

Dinner at the Buffet Moni Mahal

The Buffet Moni Mahal has the best Indian buffet in downtown Ottawa or the Glebe. (I've tried them all unless a new Indian restaurant has opened in the last month.) The price is lower than most and it has a wider variety of items. In fact, at least double the number of dishes you'll find at Haveli or the East India Company.

There is always butter chicken. There is always egg plant. There is always spinach.

We both enjoyed our meals. The staff said nothing about the number of plates I used.

Moni Mahal Buffet
164 Laurier Avenue West, Ottawa, ON K1P 5J4
Tel: 613-234-8882

[Many online references have the Moni Mahal on Laurier Ave East. This is wrong. And may embarrass you if you take a taxi from Slater Street.]

There will be Blood

It's not a vampire movie and it's not a pirate movie. It's a mining movie! To be specific, it's about the early days of oil drilling, but it starts in a gold pit. It brought me back to my youth, I tell you.

I was fascinated because I've had little experience with oil. Sticking mostly with salt, coal and of course, the precious gems and minerals. But I can tell you, the scenes in the pits were realistic.

The movie also had lovely music from the London Philharmonic except that a lot of the time you could tell that something horrible was going to happen just because the music was so loud and screechy. Can't they hear those violins? Don't they know that she's about to blow?

Favourite quote: "I'd like you better if you didn't treat me like I was stupid."

Noteworthy credits:

• Standby Greens - Ryan Bust [He has an entry on IMdb; And this article says "The greensman is a specialist who decides how and where to place plants and greenery in the film scenes."]
• Albert Chi as himself [How can a movie set between 1899 and 1929 have someone playing themself? But on IMdb, I see that he is listed as "assistant: Mr. Anderson" and Paul Thomas Anderson was the Director.
  
• "This motion picture was carbon neutral" [Which is quite an accomplishment given that they had an oil well fire and some cool explosions. On the other hand, Industrial Light and Magic had lots of credits, so maybe that was all animation. Still, I had to wonder, if ILM was involved, why couldn't they make it look like the wheels on the old cars were rolling forward instead of backward?
  

Friday night with Fourth Dwarf

Being the generous fellow I am, I took a break from meta-blogging Friday evening to give a young lady a night on the town. Overall a fine evening

#1: Pub-Blogging the Atomic Rooster

"Let's try this place," I suggested figuring the name indicated a chance I could get a well-cooked chicken. My companion spotted a veggie burger on the menu she thought she could get along with.

A responsible restaurant reviewer would give the Atomic Rooster a few more tries, but I'm neither a restaurant reviewer nor responsible.

The food: Being not so hungry, I only ordered half a chicken with Garlic Smashed Potatoes and grilled vegetables. To my surprise they gave me the front half of the chicken. A white meat fan would be pleased by this, but I'm not a white meat fan. Alas, when I pointed this out to the waitress, she told me that it was all the cook had and it would take too long to cook a hind quarter. Have I been ordering whole chickens so long that I've missed this new trend in half-chicken cooking?

The Garlic Smashed Potatoes were not well-named unless a fellow named Garlic did the smashing.

The grilled vegetables were tasty.

My companion reported her veggie burger was ho hum and the salsa tasted like it came in a bottle.

Decor: Nice bright paintings on the wall. But something was missing. Can't quite say what. The space felt too much like a cafeteria. And nothing said "atomic" to me.

Extra touches: Other diners apparently had nice napkin rings and received free grapes after their meal. We did not.

Verdict: Not a replacement for the usual spot.

#2: Sexapalooza

Waiting in line to get in, a young security guard checked everyone's identification. Other adults in the line thought this inappropriate, especially for me with my long beard that has a touch of grey in it. "No, no," I explained to the incredulous attendees, "if we look like we may be 25, he has to ask."

For $15 each, we received a coupon for 30 minutes of free adult movies from the internet and had the opportunity to wander around the crowded basement of Lansdowne Park and see:

• Various items for sale that I understand are readily available in several downtown and suburban locations;
• Fully dressed woman disinterestedly demonstrating a form of dance that relies on a vertical pole;
• Other woman standing on stage and impersonating Meg Ryan at the delicatessen in
  When Harry met Sally; and
  
• A large woman tapping the naked breasts and stomach of a smaller woman who was strapped to a wooden frame. ("Very nice breasts," my companion overheard another woman say to her friend.)

In short, it was a waste of $30 because I don't need to go to Sexapalooza to find any of that. "What they needed," suggested my companion, "was lots of semi-clad beautiful men and women walking around handing out free samples."

#3: Celebrity Night at Spins'n'Needles

Aside from yours truly, I didn't spot any actual celebrities at this event. But the art was all about them. For people who didn't bring their own project to work on, the organizers had supplies for:

1. Celebrity paint by numbers
2. Celebrity collage
3. Celebrity finger puppets

I probably don't need to tell you that both my lovely companion and I decided to make finger puppets. This was a special treat for me because it was my first time using a glue gun. Wow!

People sitting near us did puppets, but also the paint by numbers. The results were stunning although we couldn't tell if the woman was Britney Spears or Lindsay Lohan and the man was either J.F. Kennedy, Matt Damon or Brad Pitt.

No question about it, Spins'n'Needles was the best part of the outing.

Denouement

On the way back to the cave, a woman who got off the bus behind us called out, "Excuse me, you dropped these, do you want them?" She held up the adult movie coupons from Sexapalooza. They had been in my coat pocket with my mittens.

"Um, uh, yes." I took them from her. "I guess they fell out of my pocket when I took out my mittens."

"I thought maybe it was your way to invite me to a movie," she said.

"Ha, ha, no," I said. "Unless you want to go to a movie..."

Why we love Elgin Street

Back in the heady leadup to the 'we-can-do-anything' days of Expo '67, Canadians heard a lot of talk about the cultural mosaic. No mundane melting pots for us. No sirree. Mutual respect among distinct, yet cooperative, ethnic groups was the societal agenda.

Sadly, that interesting multicultural ideal seemed to be mostly burnt up in a consumeristic hell of 80s yuppiedom. A year into the new millenium, its ashes were pretty well stomped into the mud in a spate of ethnic-profiling paranoia over terrorism.

Pretty well. But here on Elgin Street, if ya want poly-ethnic, we got it. In spades. Up the wazoo. We gotta publog this place the Dwarf spotted, when he was out airing his aspidistra the other day. Whether they serve draught ale or not.

(Oh. And for the uninitiated among our international readers, 'poutine' is a heart-stopping Québécois confection of fresh julienned potatoes, twice french-fried in peanut oil for extra crispiness, salted, covered in fresh cheddar cheese curds, then doused in lashings of hot canned gravy to create the kind of gooey gourmet goodness that only a philistine could reject. Extra salt and ketchup right there on the table beside ya, if ya want 'em....)

PuBlog: Audrey and the mini-caribou burgers

After many weeks of hockey watching in local bars and living rooms, it was a shock to attend the garden party at Stornoway hosted by the Leader of the Opposition, the Hon. Stéphane Dion, and his wife, Janine Krieber. No one talked about hockey! I didn't know everyone! I didn't have to bring beer!

It was exciting to sample the various canapés on offer. I ate:

· Smoked arctic char with mascarpone in a fennel dusted crepe (Nunavut)
· Caribou burgers (Northwest Territories)
· Wheatberry salad with lime and coriander (Saskatchewan)
· Creamy lobster bisque (New Brunswick)
· Lowbush cranberry brulées (Yukon)
· Rumballs, featuring Screech (Newfoundland and Labrador)
· "Sugar" pie, with wild blueberry compote (Quebec)

I did not eat:
· Tortilla chips and salsa
· Salt and vinegar potato chips
· Hickory Sticks
· Cookies
· Hamburgers
· French fries
· Pizza

My favourite canapé was, of course, the mini-caribou burgers. I'd told everyone that I hoped there would be mini-burgers there, and I was not disappointed - the burgers were fantastic.

Photo: Audrey / Hand modelling: The IO

Ooops

I meant to post this on this blog.

Why I like the Usual Spot

Coyote dropped by today to drop off an item for one of my secret projects and to collect an aspidistra I'd set aside for him. I enticed him to stay by offering food but then set him to work on a little home repair project.

By ten o'clock, we were a bit tired and thirsty, so I suggested we make our way to the usual spot for a beverage.

Not wanting to leave the aspidistra outside in the bicycle trailer where it could be stolen, I brought it in and put it on our table.

"Maybe this will help us meet girls," suggested the C-dog.

"Not likely," I said. (You'd think the Coyote would know by now that when he's at a bar with me, there'll be no young ladies approaching. It's not like when he's on his own cutting a swath with cagey American coyotes.)

Then the waiter came and asked what beverages we'd like. Coyote ordered his usual libation and I ordered a dark frothy ale (only a small one.)

"And what would you like?" The waiter stared at the aspidistra.

"Our friend will have a glass of water," I said. "No ice."

A few minutes later, he brought us all our drinks. The aspidistra finished his first. Chugged it, you might say.

Publog Research: Preston Hardware

Fieldwork by the Research Director and Coyote, Easter Weekend 2007:

Pluses (Features to emulate)

• FREE! ESPRESSO! SHOTS!

Minuses (Features to Avoid)

• FREE! ESPRESSO! SHOTS! TO! COYOTES!

Summary: I realize we normally don't PuBlog non-food establishments, but the Research Director asked if I wanted to ride shotgun in the Bookmobile with him on a consumer survey. And he offered to roll down the window so that I could hang my tongue in the breeze. Really, he had me at "ride". As usual, I digress.

A serious round of research found us at Ottawa's shrine to hardcore hardware cognoscenti, viewing an automated espresso apparatus selling for many thousands of bonez. At the tap of a touchscreen, this gizmo automatically grinds fresh coffee onboard, tamps it into the filter and pumps espresso at a precise temperature and pressure into two demitasses, all untouched by human hands. (Huh. I can do that last part for a lot cheaper. Uh, I digress again.)

The knowledgeable salesperson explained these complexities, then showed it off and gave us FREE! ESPRESSO! SHOTS! -- This was coffee of a velvety blackness to make roadside Elvis painting hawkers weep, with perfect crema and a mellow richness that seems to be taken for granted at every little store along Preston Street, even as certain international chains that shall remain nameless sometimes struggle for the same effect. Gotta love Little Italy...

Ummmm. But. Somebody shoulda warned the sales guy. And the Research Director. I can't think who would be responsible for that.... The RD placed my FREE! ESPRESSO! SHOT! on the floor so I could slurp it. I slurped. I ran in circles. I peed on the Research Director's immaculately polished footwear. (Missed the pant leg, though. I'm proud of that.) Close readers of my solo project may recall that someone inadvertantly let me snarf down too much chocolate about a year ago. And that I reacted predictably badly. People, again: you should never feed a dog chocolate. Even a two-thousand-year-old, semimythical one. Apparently, we must add espresso to this list, too.

Moral: Free espression carries with it great responsibility...

PuBlog Research: Canadian Museum of Civilization

Fieldwork by Agatha, Coyote, and the Independent Observer, April 1, 2007:

Pluses (Concepts to Steal)

• Fast cafeteria-style service and nice wrought iron tables beside a glass curtain wall facing pleasingly scenic bits of downdown Hull;
• Handy to a highly eclectic gift shop with a $6.99 price-point fetish;
• Handy to the capital city's combined IMAX/OmniMAX theatre;
• Handy to the children's museum (you may have figured out by now that this wasn't that other, larger cafeteria with the great view of the Ottawa River, but the satellite kiosk on the main floor);
• One hot dog spinning round and round and round on the electric rotisserie. (Call me weird. This appealed to me as a piece of conceptual art.)
  

Minuses (Things to Avoid)

• Shocking lack of booze;
• Nachos sport an un-nachoral orange sauce apparently composed of nuclear waste, salt, semi-liquid "process cheese food" and unknown quantities of food dye;
• Taking its cue from its proximity to a movie theatre, the kiosk obviously ripped its prices and menu straight from Cineplex Odious' playbook. A large popcorn ran to pretty much the better part of 10 bucks. (Let's not even get started on the popcorn/drink combos);
• A preponderance of wailing children (see above) As worthy and educational as museums and IMAXes are for young minds, many of 'em just wanted to get the f*ck outta there... "Right F*cking NOW, Parental Units!"
• One hot dog spinning round and round and round on the electric rotisserie.

Summary: Healthy food choices were in short supply, and soothing libations were non-existent. I do not count fizzy cola drinks as 'soothing', no matter what ad writers may try to impose upon my world view. The IMAX theatre was a nice touch. We all enjoyed Deep Sea - celebrity narration by Johnny Depp and Kate Winslett, creative munching, crunching, smacking and slurping noises dubbed into the Danny Elfman score, as strange marine creatures consumed even stranger ones with gusto. Also, realistic seasicky sensations, due to the extra-large-screen movie format. Let it be noted that Aggie mentioned Gravol, and that we reeled with vertigo when we exited. If we plan to serve food and drink for money, this may not be optimum. Then again, it might've been those radioactive orange nachos...

Regarding Emergency Meetings

1. Something Disturbing at the Usual Spot

I saw something disturbing at the usual spot. First, in the north booth, two people were talking with a laptop computer on the table. It was closed, but out of its case, so they must have used it for something. Perhaps viewing architectural drawings or some other creative project, I thought.

But later, at two tables on the north wall there was a group of four young men who would have looked in place at the tavern the Hobbits stopped at the night after they left the Shire. These young men had two open laptops and were clearly using them to access the internet.

"Are they instant messaging each other?" asked my companion.

"I hope not," I replied. Just then, Lisa came by with my Pepsi. "Lisa, are those guys on the internet."

"Yeah," she said, "somehow you can get it here."

"But you guys aren't providing it, right?"

"Oh, no!" She looked horrified at the idea.

____________________________________________

2. Convenor Responsibility

From the Berkun Blog:

If you called the meeting, do your %*?@?! job. Everyone claims they know about facilitation, but few do it. If you called the meeting, it’s your job to

1. Get there on time;
2. Write a bullet list agenda on the wall;
3. Manage the conversation so no one hogs the floor and the right people get a voice at the right time; and
4. Make sure side issues get delegated out of the room.

If you don’t do all 4, any meeting problems are your fault.

____________________________________________

3. Emergency Meeting

I would suggest an emergency meeting to discuss these issues, but I'm not sure Lisa would appreciate me writing on the wall and we all know how close I am to getting barred all the time.

Publog Research: Café Paradiso

Based on fieldwork by the Independent Observer, Agatha, AODWF (Aggie's Off-Duty Waiter Friend), Coyote, and the Research Director, on 23 December 2006:

The Pluses (or things we'd rip off wholesale our spot)

• Garage door windows that can be opened onto the street in fine weather (They were closed when we were there...) ;
• Funky future-deco curved ceiling and wall details;
• Nifty light fixtures that looked like little Sputnik satellites, that 4th Dwarf would've liked a lot if he'd been there;
  
• A well-handled fusion menu (Butternut Squash Chili and Apricot and Chorizo Stuffed Chicken Supreme were sampled and judged excellent);
  
• A superior live jazz trio playing selections by Vince Guaraldi;
  
• Service that blended attentiveness and efficiency without becoming presumptuously chummy (We believe waiter-waitee relationships desirable, but best when cultivated over time);
  
• Enough beautiful/handsome/rich patrons to create an exclusive atmosphere.
  

The Minuses (or things we should avoid)

• No convenient watering dish for thirsty dogs at the entrance;
• A waiter who was shocked (Shocked!) to discover that the Paradiso in fact sold pitchers of draught beer -- although he did manage to unearth a clean pitcher and serve it up, once informed that this was the case;
• A decided lack of solo French fry or potato wedge items on the menu, although these could be had with main dishes. AODWF also noted the absence of an intriguingly exotic comestible he called 'deluxe poutine' (don't ask);
• Portion sizes that certain circumferentially-enhanced, low-altitude, high-attitude ESI members would have considered most disappointing, had they been in attendance, and;
• Atmosphere perhaps a little too upmarket and exclusive for ESIs and their usual circle.

These work against it being a regular hangout for our target market, although it's certainly a nice place to dress up for and visit occasionally. Assuming, of course, that you're not wearing permanent fur already.

Publog Research: 4th Ave Wine Bar

Based on fieldwork by Coyote, 4D, the Chair, Audrey, Conchie, the Research Director, Painted Stick and Aggie on 19 December 2006:

The Pluses (or things we should try to copy in our spot)

• Huge fish tank;
• Excellent red wine; and
  
• Full-size robot sculpture made of junk (at least I think it's a sculpture and not just a robot that's been switched off).
  

The Minuses (or things we should avoid)

• Diabolically uncomfortable bar stools;
• $ 5 for a tiny plate of spindly little fries that arrive without salt (instead of a large basket of big potato wedges);
• Waiter takes one person's drink order, ignores others with empty glasses, (and is apparently anti-dwarfistic); and
• A croque-monsieur with fries (spindly little ones) and a salad takes an hour to make.
  

Publog Research: The Parliamentary Restaurant

Based on fieldwork by the IO, Coyote, 4D, Audrey and the Amazon on 19 December 2006:

The Pluses (or things we should try to copy in our spot)

• Put all guests through metal detector and x-ray their belongings to give them confidence in their safety and a heightened sense of exclusivity;
• Gold crest on all china;
• Great view of Ottawa River, Parliament Buildings, etc.;
• Strong possibility of seeing famous people;
• Big selection of desserts;
• Friendly service; and
• When seating people in remote corner with no view of celebrities, tell them "this is the Prime Minister's corner but it's yours today".

The Minuses (or things we should avoid)

• Staff should know whether diet ginger ale is available or not; and
• People with empty coffee cups should be offered refills.

[See: Business Case for the Brilliant Idea]

Newsflash: Conch Shell and Aggie's Brilliant Idea!

Conch Shell and I went to the "Regular Place" (also known as "the usual spot"), and it was too busy, yet again. We realized that Ottawa needs another "regular place". In fact, Ottawa needs the Irregulars PUBLOG. It's more than a pub, more than a blog; it's a lifestyle. You heard it first here, folks.

I faxed the business proposal (that we hashed out last night) to the Chair this afternoon, and we hope he will make a powerpoint presentation laying out some features of the plan. An Emergency Meeting may be called, so do stay tuned.

Restaurants You Won't Find Me In

Sure, people like Bob can tell you what restaurants you can go to for good food. [Like this] Today, I'm here to tell you what restaurants to not go to. Or at least, the restaurants that the Fourth Dwarf won't go to.

Vineyards Wine Bar and Bistro, 54 York Street (In the Cellar).
They have half-decent food, I even like the steak and fries. But the waiters won't bring you wine. They make you go to the bar for it. Why? I don't know and I don't care! When I'm out for supper in a restaurant, I want people to bring me both my food and my beverage. Sure, when you're at a party it can be convenient to say, "excuse me, I'm going to go freshen my glass," but when you're out trying your moves, you want the wine to flow!

Marché Lino, Rideau Centre (Ottawa's Mov'n'Pick)
I don't mind eating at a food court or in a cafeteria sometimes. But I don't want to have to line up at three different stations to get my meal and then arrive at the table to find my dinner companion has finished eating. This alone is enough for me, even without the 15% "service" charge they add to the bill for clearing dishes from your table and standing behind the counters you line up at.

Dunns Famous Deli, 220 Elgin St
A few years ago, the owner had tax trouble in the same week he had workers from his Kingston location picketing outside the restaurant for not paying their back wages. Apparently he paid everybody what he owes, but even before this, the Dwarf had a breakfast with some friends that didn't go well. When I asked for water, the waiter told us, "it'll be a while." It was. We never got it. The place was busy, the staff was frantic. There was this guy bossing people around and trying to squeeze in more customers. I snapped. The boss guy didn't take it well.

Some seafood place in Centretown
I'm not sure which one it is, but I hear through the grapevine that a certain ex is working at a seafood restaurant. You'll be safe going there as long as it's not with me. If you are with me, you could wind up getting splashed with clam chowder when it gets dumped on my head.