Because I'm hungry.

It's been a while since I've posted a Taste of Buffalo post. Given that it was held in earnest again this year, I figured that it'd be a good idea to post about it. However, given the last fifteen months of stress eating because of the pandemic plus the fact that I'm working from home instead of in the office and, therefore, not given as many opportunities to move my body around, my weight/heart situation meant that I would get a small number of chances to go wild on the many offerings from the local restaurants.

My usual parking space a few streets away would, in theory, serve me well, as I need as much exercise as I can get. Amazingly, when I get to where the event is usually held, I find the street operating normally. I glance up and see that the festivities are going on further up. More exercise that I think will undo the spell.

As ever, I would need to purchase tickets for the meals. Though I packed some cash, I found myself in the credit card line, even though it wasn't much shorter than the cash line. I kill the time playing bingo on my phone (and winning). I finally get to the front of the line and ask the kind, elderly volunteers for eight sheets of tickets. Each sheet is five tickets, so I've dropped forty bucks on the day, a far cry from when I'd spend sixty or seventy dollars. Goddamn, do I miss youthful metabolism.

(I should probably mention at this point that I am the only person masked up. Granted, I'm fully vaccinated, but given the penetrating variants spreading around, I am as paranoid as I was when we had no vaccines. I didn't survive the last year and a quarter being stupid.)

With all the stuff in my pockets, including a handful of Ziploc baggies, I make my way to the first stand of interest: Simply Pierogi for the Loaded Pierogi. A couple of pierogi dressed up with caramelized onions, shredded cheese and sour cream. Sometimes, all you need are the simple things.

As I digest this meal and pick up a Cherry Coke, I figure, 'Wouldn't it be less cumbersome to not have my masks (yes, I was wearing two of them) on while I'm trying to eat?' Masks, meet pocket.

It takes me a while to pick my next meal, the lines and the heat seemingly conspiring against me. I end up at Babcia's Pierogi and decide to go for a Polish Taco. The vendor promises, “You’re gonna enjoy the shit out of it!”. Perhaps, there could’ve been less mustard (the stuff gets everywhere), but still, truth in advertising.

It was a little messy, roughly half the contents of corned beef and onions spilling out of the bread taco and into the wrapper. Lamenting that I’d already disposed of the fork from the previous dish - and with a considerable lack of shame - I fished the remaining food out with my fingers and ate it like that. In the end, would it really matter how I ate it?

Making my way back around, I’m intrigued by some of the places I just passed. Chief among them is Venus, which served Greek Fries among its offerings. To save room for other meals, I opted for the smallest size, which is unfortunate, as it rivaled the Loaded Pierogi for my favorite dish of the day. French fries covered in a wondrous mix of feta cheese, tomatoes and (tzatziki?) sauce.

Consulting the list of items I wanted to try, I was still undecided on what to get next. Even with my wandering and wondering, it was still preferable to not having a list or a plan at all.

Sometimes, I’ve tried to structure my eating journey like an actual meal: appetizer, main course, dessert. Doesn’t always work that way and I figure that I may as well get the Peanut Butter Pie from Danny’s South before I’m too stuffed. The creaminess of the peanut butter with the drizzling of chocolate sauce and the graham cracker base is always welcome. I just know that this would make a terrific closer to any meal.

As I finish off the piece, I start to feel a bit logy. I haven’t hit the wall yet, but it is definitely in sight. 

According to my list, Carmine’s was on my list because of their Bacon-Wrapped Shrimp. However, because of my encroaching paranoia about eating too much unhealthy stuff, I puss out and opt instead for the Asiago-Asparagus Risotto. The cheese flavor is too mild and not dispersed well enough. Good for you, maybe, but not good.

Hopefully, a swig of my rapidly warming Cherry Coke is enough to counteract this culinary misstep. I think it did the job.

As it was close by after finishing my risotto, I head to the Tops Markets booth for a Fudge Brownie. Little do I realize how big it is... and how messy it is; the inside of the Ziploc bag is covered in icing. Definitely not something to be eaten all at once.

The wall grows ever closer. I feel like I’m gonna burst. Still, I press on, as much trying to ignore the food as I am trying to figure out what the hell I’m gonna have, if anything.

I pass by Pizza Amore. My sister spoke quite well of it on her last visit, so I decide to get a Cheese and Pepperoni Slice, even though it’s a generic dish I can get from, at least, twenty different places in town. The slice is okay, but it’s nothing to write home about. Even so, I’m too tired to feel mad or disappointed.

I consider looking for somewhere else to eat, but then, it happens. I've hit the wall. I doubt I'll be putting anything in my mouth until the evening, at best. I make one more trip around the horn. The heat’s got me. I stop at a beverage stand and pick up a water and a Cherry Coke for later.

Before I go, I figure I should get something for my mother. Alex's Place is serving up Baby Back Ribs. Maybe, she might like them. (BTW, I was right.) Into a baggie they go.

At that point, I have five tickets left. Do I go out in a blaze of glory and go over to Carmine's for some Bacon Wrapped Shrimp? No. My legs hurt, I'm drenched in sweat and my stomach is in knots. I'm going home, but not before I slipped the tickets under some guy's Beef on Weck. Maybe he can get better use out of them than I could.

The diminished intake and bodily issues aside, the Taste of Buffalo was a great deal of fun. God willing, I can get the discipline needed to get into better shape. Next year's Taste isn't that far away, after all.

‘Dead’ alive.

Ah, early 80s horror. It’s odd to think that some of those films, for their narrative and budgetary failings, received some very wonderful - and orchestral - scores back then. One example was Joe Renzetti’s Dead and Buried. A thread popped up at FSM about how the music has been released on a digital album. My response?  “I hate to be that guy, but no CD, no sale.”

Someone pointed me in the direction of Blue Underground’s special edition Blu-Ray of the film that includes a soundtrack CD of Renzetti’s score as a bonus. I don’t really have (nor do I have much use for) a Blu-Ray player, but they’re lucky I like the movie enough to consider taking the plunge.

Not the first time this has happened and likely not the last. Maybe, this is the only way to get my hands on some favorite and unreleased scores. But let me tell you: if the only way to get John Paul Jones’ Scream for Help score on CD is to purchase a Blu-Ray of that patronizing and tasteless piece of shit, somebody’s getting shanked.