HUNGRY GERALD

Air travel is tedious and tiring these days. There is a whiff of fascism to the utterly nonsensical rules, regulations and procedures demanded in flying from one city to another. Some 13 hours of transit altogether from Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, to a one night stay in Denver. HG and BSK were tired, grumpy and very hungry when they arrived in the Mile High City. Time for comfort food. Off to Little India (the Sixth Avenue location). Great food (a new chef, perhaps?). Chicken Tikka from the tandoori oven was juicy, full of flavor — nestled on thinly slcied sweet onions and peppers on a sizzling platter. Excellent onion kulcha bread. Fluffy saffron rice. Greaseless papadums with two good dipping sauces. Cooling Raita and a bowl of mango chutney. The surprise was the vegetable dishes: an eggplant stew and a bowl of okra. The vegetables retained integrity and were miracles of Indian spicing. The restaurant has a nice wine list and good Indian beers as well as Anchor Steam Ale from San Francisco. Finished with pistachio ice cream. No, not that green crap masquerading under the label pistachio. This was Indian pistachio ice cream that was saffron in color, contained chunks of pistachio and was delicious.

Breakfast the next day (before the 5 and 1/2 hour drive to Santa Fe) was at Racine’s, a Denver landmark. Three-egg omelettes stuffed with green chiles and then smothered in a porky, green chile sauce. Crisp home fries and warm biscuits. Yes, HG and BSK really felt they were back in the great West. Much chatter in the big, handsome restaurant about the coming of the Football Messiah (Peyton Manning). Denver folks have been waiting for the next Messiah since the retirement of the original, John Elway. Lots of Super Bowl dreams. BSK is oblivious. HG will observe with focused interest.

Flying to Prince Edward Island, HG experienced the usual discomfort and sheer madness of air travel these days. Changes in flight times. Flight cancellations. Hostile, invasive and downright unnecessary security procedures. However, there is always (say optimists) a silver lining. HG had to spend the night in Toronto so opted for the Sandman Signature Hotel a few minutes from the airport. Super. New and in contemporary good taste. Very good bed, shower, flat screen TV, etc. For breakfast HG had something that is difficult to obtain in most hotels and diners: A bowl of real, nutty, steel cut oatmeal. Not the instant glop. With it was a big bran muffin that tasted fresh from the oven. Sandman is a keeper. More silver linings. A long wait at airport for PEI plane. HG watched the super exciting USA women battling Brazil. USA won but Marta, the swift and deft Brazilian, has joined HG’s pantheon of feminine paragons. HG was nourished at Fion MacCool, a quasi-Irish pub at the airport. Pub might be faux but the hamburger was for real. High quality meat served the way HG likes it–slightly pink. Layered with cheese, sliced tomatoes, sliced dill pickle and frizzled fried onions. Major league burger. Guinness on tap was welcome.