So today since the weather was so nice and it was time to get out of the house, we went up to Baltimore for Artscape. It was quite lovely an great people watching. But you know those things always have the venders with the gyros and the italian sausage and the fried stuff. I still smell like onion and pepper just from walking by these places. What was a bonus though was beer and wine was sold liberally and could be carried about the street with abandoned. I don't know why that thrilled me, but it did. I apparently am easily impressed. Or not. Anyway.
Now, the funnel cake. Any outdoor festivally type thing you go to these days have that heart attack waiting to happen covered in powdered sugar. In case you haven't had one, it's like a beignet, but bigger and not as good. Funnel cakes are all well and good, but I will bring out the curmudgeon and ask what the heck happened to the good old elephant ear? That's what we had growing up and frankly, I find the funnel cake to be inferior. I find the funnel cake to be a poor substitute. I find the funnel cake to be woeful and lacking. Furthermore, I fart in the funnel cake's general direction. And that is all I have to say about that. Goodday!
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4 comments:
You should try Bannock, made by a native Cree or Inuit.. to die for!!
A good Elephant ear is hard to find these days.
Sweetie babes, I'm listening to Antigone Rising, I never tire of this CD. Ever listen to the them...just thinking out.
I've not ever had a beignet but it looks like a sugar coma for me at the first bite.
You could feed a village looking at the size of that Elephant ear. Woah!
When the county fair gets here you can bet funnel cakes sales and heart attacks will climb upwards.
Hey if you fart in the direction of funnel cakes...does that make em sweeter? hehehehe.
If I'm to go into a sugar coma...let it be with a beignet in my mouth. They look so yummy. Later sweetie.
Do I sound tired...I am. What a weekend.
Every summer the carnival came to town for a week and the highlight was getting that Elephant Ear. It was a rite of passage each summer to enjoy its sticky goodness as powdered sugar got everywhere, the crunch of gravel underfoot and the Ferris wheel turning like a lazy stopwatch on the night. Afterward, there was the delicious indecision of what to use that last ride ticket on. Hoosier summers, baby. Hoosier summers.
otter: does it involve powdered and/or cinnamon sugar? if so, I'm there!
szj: will check out antigone!
ms snarker: you know exactly what I'm saying..we probably had the same carnival come through. Tilt-a-Whirl, baby!
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