Snow Lion Tibetan Restaurant – Bloomington, Indiana

by Adrienne Wilson on

To my knowledge I hadn’t previously tasted cuisine from the land of Tibet and I hadn’t a clue what it was like. Spicy? Asian? Noodles? Extremely foreign and exotic to the taste buds? I swiped the drool created from my day dreaming away from the side of my mouth. Every thought I generated took me back to the numerous moments I had face-in-plate at Great Khan’s Mongolian BBQ in the Santa Monica mall. Surely the spicy noodle dish is a member of the same food family?

Well, I answered all these questions by treating myself to some real deal Tibetan fare on a short jaunt through Bloomington, Indiana at the area’s only Tibetan restaurant – the Snow Lion. Owned and managed by Jigme Norbu, the nephew of the Dali Lama, visitors are in for a rare treat. Regardless of what you like and if you prefer your food a lot less spicy than those made with the fiercest seasonings you’re bound to find it at the Snow Lion. The menu features authentic Tibetan and Indian dishes. Vegan and vegetarian plates are offered as well and said to be just as delicious.

As a first-timer I ordered a light Tibetan style milkshake, which I gulped down with little-to-no guilt. I could have and wanted to order many more, but I waited patiently for my tsel thupek veggie style. I suppose you can say it was a rather simple noodle dish with veggies galore and one exception – it was HOT. I like spicy food. Wait, I take that back. I LOVE spicy food so when I was presented with a scale ranging from 1-5, with 5 being the spiciest I went for it. Much to my surprise it was a lot like the Mongolian noodles I had countless time at the mall, but with a bit more kick. After I finished eating what I could from the flaming dish I decided I’d need to cool off before heading out. Going with the green tea ice cream was almost a no-brainer and the perfect touch to my complete my first Tibetan dining experience. In short I’d have to go again and try something else. Noodles, in my own opinion, are too much alike from place to place.

The Snow Lion is located at 113 S. Grant Street, Bloomington, IN. Ph 812.336.0835. Lunch and dinner are both offered and fairly inexpensive. Most dishes are in the $10-$16 price range. Perfect for couples, friends, and family outings.

Hmmm…Jerky

by Erik Olsen on

So much news and feature writing these days is about current events. As someone who works in the media, I sometimes long for a nice thoughtful piece about the mundane, an examination into everyday things that pass under your nose (or into your mouth) but otherwise whose history escapes notice. You know those books that are called “The History of Everyday Things”? Those are great books. I love learning more about the paper clip, for example.

So what’s my point? Well, I have to tell you I was tickled to see this delightful little ode to one of my favorite foods of all time: Beef Jerky. It’s going to sound sexist, but I was surprised to see that this paean to dry meat was penned by a woman. I know I know, don’t get all fussy with me. Women like jerky, too. But it’s just always seemed like a cowboy thing to eat, like they do in Brokeback Mountain (no “I can’t quit you” jokes, please).

Anyway, we learn a lot of interesting stuff here. For example, did you know the “salted meat snack” industry generated more than $300 million in sales in the last year? That’s a lot of dessicated flesh. Of course you knew that jerky was given to us by the Indians, but died you know that one of its earliest forms, pemmican, consisted of dried meat mashed up with animal fat and berries? I thought not. All this talk about jerky is making me hungry, so go to the piece and give it a read, and excuse me while I head out to the local store to pick up a bag.

Hmmm, jerky.

Dining in Newport, Kentucky – Hofbräuhaus

by Adrienne Wilson on

Once word gets out that I blog for a travel website people expect me to know all of thousand of the  Philippines islands by name, the capital city of Nauru (there isn’t one) or the ingredients of that strange gelatin found in a lot of European fare. Well let it be known it’s a pretty big world out there and a lot of information for one person to store, but I do my best to grab the bull by the horns when presented with a new and foreign opportunity. Such was the case when I stepped into a world of German cuisine at the Hofbräuhaus. I was nothing more than a tenderfoot. My taste buds long deprived from the splendors found in Bavarian dishes wanted more and my belly just felt as if it would pop. Wait, I just realized I’m getting far ahead of things here. I haven’t told you what I ordered.

When I stepped into the Newport, Kentucky’s Hofbräuhaus I hadn’t a clue what to expect. I was told there would be chicken dancing which semi-frightened me and my companions were all aghast that I had come so far in life without tasting good German food. I knew then I would have to do everything the German way that night – even beer which I usually don’t let pass my lips ever. When we started with beverage orders I requested the lightest brew possible and the smallest serving. I continued gazing over the menu lost and confused. What should I order? I saw a chicken sandwich on the menu, but common sense told me that certainly wasn’t German food. There was Schnitzel, Leberkäse, Bierwurst, Bratwurst, Grillwurst and Kasseler Rippchen. From what I could gather it was a lot of sausage and a lot of potatoes. I was clueless. Luckily 7 of the 12 of us dining that evening were real experts at this and had even dined at the original Hofbräuhaus in Munich.

They pointed me to the Sauerbraten – a roasted round of delicious marinated beef accompanied by red apple kraut, mashed potatoes and broccoli. I was humming with joy, but I still had to wait for my dish. In the meantime one of my pals ordered several appetizers for all the tenderfeet in the group to gain a full scale of what the cuisine is like. We sampled Fritierte Gurken (German fried pickles), Sauerkraut balls and something that reminded me of the cheesy goldfish snacks except they were kind of doughy and less cheesy. Before I could question my excuse for not having had so much of these scrumptious treats in the past my Saurbraten found its way into the center of my being. I dug in.

Oh, time for the chicken dance! I abandoned my seat and meal to take part in the chicken dancing business. I stretched my wings up high, flapped them around and wiggled down with the best of them until the live band started speeding things up. My rhythm got lost in laughter and I was having a ball of a time. Once dancing time was up I retreated from the dance floor back to the dinner table. The brief bit of dancing gave me enough energy to plough through the rest of my plate. As I cleaned up house my group smiled and cheered me on! I was a newbie no more.

The Hofbräuhaus is located in Northern Kentucky on the southern side of Cincinnati at 3rd & Saratoga at the Levee, Newport, KY 41071. Ph. 859.491.7200. Open daily from 11:00 A.M. Most dishes range from the $10-$30 price range. Excellent and friendly wait staff.

Dangers of the Cheese Chase

by Erik Olsen on

Just when you thought it was safe to start eating cheese again. OK, it’s never funny when someone gets hurt. Well, maybe it is sometimes, especially when injuries are caused by great wheels of cheese. Yes, the English Cheese Chase is a major event among, well, cheese-makers, blessed-are-they-and-all-manufacturers-of dairy products, and this year saw several rather harsh injuries among twenty-five participants. The cheesefest takes place every year at Cooper’s Hill in Brockworth, Gloucestershire, often before a throng of some 3,000 people. And cheer they did as monstrous cheese wheels rolled over people, slammed into them, crushed them, all to the delight of onlookers. Of the 25 people hurt, 12 were spectators, so even WATCHING cheese races can be dangerous.

Red Corner: Lithuanian Beer Corpse Blows 7.27

by Neil Woodburn on

It is well known that Europeans love their alcohol. Eastern Europeans, at least according to my experience, love it even more. In fact, it’s no surprise that the Czech Republic leads the world in beer consumption.

Spare a moment, however, for the Lithuanians, who, thanks to one overzealous countryman doing his part to increase the country’s per capita alcohol intake, deserve at least an honorable mention in the Alcoholics Hall of Shame.

The man in question is Vidmantas Sungaila. Recently pulled over by police 60 miles from Vilnius, Sungaila registered “7.27 grams per liter of alcohol in his blood.” The legal limit is only 0.4 grams. As a point of comparison, 3.4 grams is actually considered lethal, unless of course your name happens to be Vidmantas Sungaila.

While I’m sure Sungaila doesn’t represent the average Lithuanian, it still makes me feel fortunate to have survived the country’s roadways when I rented a car there three years ago.