inserire titolo qui.

Yup, that's Italian for "insert title here," 'cause I just can't come up with anything. Boo, hiss. Some clever blogger I am.

It's happening again, kids, where I have to rapid-fire write blog posts in order to even remotely keep up with the adventures we're having. I know, I know, I can hardly wrap my brain around how lucky you are in getting to read such quality work again so quickly, either, but obviously, it's all for you people. So selfless.*

Ahem. Anyway. I know you're just dying to get to the Italy part, but I do have another thing or two about which to write: first, Knabenschiessen, or the festival known as "Little Boys Shooting Day" around our house. Ostensibly, it's a target-shooting contest for teenagers, but it is accompanied by a ginormous carnival, and it takes place roughly 5 minutes from our apartment...the latter two elements of which are obviously the draw for us. Mike and a few friends actually rode some of the gargantuan rides this year--honestly, I've never seen rides that huge at any carnival in the US--and we managed to stuff ourselves with some tasty garlic bread (still good against vampires and small hunger!), some hand-cut veggie chips (yum), a half of a roasted chicken, and some langos (the Hungarian word for what I know as Navajo fried bread) to munch on. And we saw these, too...

The booth for recycleart.ch, which had some pretty impressive metal sculptures on display. This dragon was amazing and taller than me. Look at his wings!

They also had a life-sized Predator out front, which was very obviously Mike's favorite.

Another delight experienced at a carnival of any kind: top-quality people watching. I loved this cranky-looking old guy with his bikini drink. Heh.

And then sharp-shooters Mike and Steve combined their talents to win a huge tiger for me. It was quite an impressive display, to be honest, but I genuinely have no idea what to do with this thing. It's ridiculously large.

I think we all know that I despise being in front of the camera. Look at the tiger, though! Massive!

Skipping forward in time a bit (mainly 'cause I want to end on Italy, obvs), Mike and I also attended this nifty little pop-up dinner put on by a group called Wood Food. As you might imagine, there was some smoking of things involved...yum.

It took place in this neat warehouse-y space which, apparently, is going to be torn down soon. Which is really, really too bad: it was an interesting space with a great atmosphere and lots of potential. Although the temporary nature of the building lends itself to this type of event, apparently, which only ran for four days a week during the month of September, and--it was intimated to us by someone working there, who, as it turns out, Mike knew--may or may not have been of questionable legality. (We genuinely don't know.) 

When we arrived, this guy was sitting in the corner playing the heck out of this squeezebox. Surreally enough, as the staff began circulating with little trays of bite-sized hors d'oeuvres, he launched into a length rendition of The Turtles' 'Happy Together.' It was strange, but he was good.

On the menu at Wood Food: 

• hors d'oeuvres consisting of wee cups of celery cream soup, a bite of toast with fresh cheese (frischkäse, one of my favorite German words and concepts) topped with a roasted hazelnut, and tiny bites of smoked, black-peppery boar
• wood oven-baked sourdough brown bread, butter with active coal (okaaaaay...), and sea salt on the tables
• smoked trout with yellow peppers in gelatin (our first aspic, maybe...? not terribly sure)
• sliced smoked cold duck
• charred sweet potato cream served with salt potatoes
• smoked pike with bee wax and lime (wow, ridiculously delicious!)
• green beans with parmesan, pine nuts, and pomegranate seeds
• an exceptional "Swiss pine" (Arvenholz) wurst served on top of green lentils with oregano
• lamb heart (yep, we ate heart) with an artichoke and bergamot sauce
• mushrooms with blueberries, red currants, and black truffles
• guinea fowl with fennel
• eggplant with sumac and Greek yogurt
• a wee plate of Alp cheese, goat cheese, and fruit bread (which normally I avoid, but is so good with the strong Swiss cheeses!)
• dessert of blackberry puree with chocolate mousse and hazelnuts

It sounds like a lot, but much of it was served on the same plate, and the portions were somewhat small. What was fun, though, is that it was served family-style per each set of six people, so we actually had to interact with all of the Swiss people around us. Interesting and fun, and sheesh, what good and fascinating food. (Definitely never eaten pike or heart before...!)

And finally, northern Italy, once again. With Jen and Dave along for the road trip, we did retread a bit of familiar territory, but we made a few discoveries of some really nice new places, and, as one does in the Piedmont, had some lovely food. I may have also seriously, seriously (as in, SERIOUSLY seriously) contemplated bringing home a little doggie that was running around our Piemonte B&B, but Mike (and apartment living, and--oh yeah--my darling cats) convinced me that it wasn't really the best idea. Anyway, that's another story for another time. To the Piedmont!

We rolled into town late on a Wednesday afternoon, without much time to do anything other than check into our B&B before dinner. Which was, of course, at Osteria di Gemma, because one simply cannot be in Piemonte and not eat there. It is Piedmont home cookin', and there's no menu--you just walk in and they serve you the set menu for the night. I've talked about her food at length before, but this time we had a few things that were new to us. For one, the second pasta dish (after the tajarin with bolognese sauce) was wee raviolis filled with cheese and herbs, instead of the usual meat filling (so! good!); and the second meat, along with the rabbit (yum), was brasato, which is basically a veal roast cooked in red wine until it falls off the bone and turns into the pot roast of your dreams. I love brasato so very, very much, and this time it even came with a side of delicious cooked carrots. Quantity-wise, I know exactly what I'm getting myself into every time we eat at Gemma's, and I can never avoid overeating...it's that good.

BAM! Day 2: after 8 years of visiting these hills, I finally got to see one of the castles up close. This is Grinzane Cavour, and the oldest part of this castle was built in the year 1000, or so they claim. (The rest is from the 14th through 16 centuries, they think.) Wish'd gotten a person in here for scale, because this thing is huge.

View from Grinzane to yet another castle (or two), with some grape vines thrown in for good measure.

Our lunchtime view in Alba at Al Dente, a lovely little homey place with great pasta. (I had really some fantastic orecchiette with plenty of broccoli, and Mike had a "cone of seafood"--fresh and delicious--and a bowl of tiny raviolis. Good.)

Then, back to the hills for our second castle of the trip! It was almost too much.** This one is Serralunga, also 14th century.

The view from Serralunga's walls, inside of which there is a lovely, tiny village.

And then, to wine tasting! Just FYI, people, it's basically necessary to make appointments in the Piemonte if you're going to go wine tasting. It's not Napa at all. However, we've lucked out a time or two, and this time, entirely on a whim, we stopped by Paolo Manzone, which turned out to be absolutely divine. For example: they gave us local cheese with our tasting. Friends for life.

I don't even know how many wines we sampled...Signore Manzone is quite animated and knowledgeable and passionate and entertaining and he just kept pouring. 

A quick tour of their cellars. These are some big barrels, kids.

The view from Manzone. The vines immediately below are theirs.

Dinner on day two was at Da Cesare, a quirky little place I'd read about a couple of years ago. The chef himself is also an artist, and so the hand-written menu was painted by him. (His studio is attached to the side of the restaurant, and the entire interior is decorated with his paintings.) The standouts of the meal: a salad of duck with fruit garnish; basically an entire plate of melted castelmagno cheese (ok, it had a few veggies in it), the better in which to dip our homemade bread; and a lovely local risotto. My very rudimentary Italian seized up on me when Cesare himself came out to talk to us several times, and I felt terrible about it...he was so nice, and wanted so badly to converse with us! At least we got to meet his crazy-enthusiastic truffle dog, who snuffled our hands and immediately bolted out the front door. And then ran under the tablecloths six or eight times. Delightful.

On day three, we headed towards Torino. Naturally, no trip to Torino would be complete without lunch at Eataly, so there we went. (Here, a giant room of cheeses we'd never seen before. There was a meat room, too.) Don't kid yourselves, people: it's a grocery store, but also a stunningly great place to dine.

I mini panini! Most gorgeous tiny artisanal sandwiches ever. Want to collect them all.

Once we'd had our fill at Eataly, we headed into Torino proper, where we found that this was the view from our little rented apartment. (This is Piazza Castello, the main square in the city.)

I think maybe my favorite building in the city: Palazzo Carignano, a 17th-century brick palace that now houses a museum dedicated to the unification of Italy (Risorgimento). It also has this cool courtyard in the middle that's decorated all sorts with white brick stars, and the other facade of this thing is this big, white, Baroque confection. It's so neat.

Piazza San Carlo, one of the most elegant squares maybe anywhere. I love the pale blue on those shutters.

Dinner on the evening of Day 3 was at La Badessa, the first restaurant we tried--ever--in Torino. I think their quality has gone down just a wee bit since those earlier days, but it's still really solidly good food. (I ordered the fassone for an appetizer, then went for the vegetarian entree, however that works. I know, I'm a nutter. But the puff pastry stuffed with seasonal veggies, caramelized-onion omelet, and stuffed cabbage was excellent.)

Day 4 began with a quick run-through of Europe's largest outdoor market (overwhelmingly large, really, but so fun just to walk through and listen to all the fruit and veggie vendors yell), and then everyone else went to check out the exhibit on the Shroud of Turin at the duomo, while I stayed outside (wore a tank top and forgot to bring a scarf, duhhh) and examined the details on the cathedral. They're exquisite.

Just look at the detail on this one angel, which is one small panel in the carved trim around one of three doors in the facade. I couldn't find any patterns or carvings anywhere that repeated themselves. Unbelievable.

Next up, we checked out the Palazzo Reale, mainly so we could see the armory, which is pretty special. Imagine, if you will, a long hall with frescoed ceiling, marble carvings coming out of the walls, and antique suits of armor everywhere. It might look something like this:

We think those are real taxidermied horses. The glass vitrines all the way down each side of the room are full of swords and shields and all sorts of weaponry, and there are two to three full suits of armor on and around each horse.

Gotta say, though, if this guy was coming at me in battle, I don't know how intimidating I'd find his face. (Sword, sure. Mace, ok. Helmet, no.)

This one, also not intimidating. And who even knows what's going with that weird little bear face, plus those bizarre fan-like appendages on the sides? I feel somehow like this is the Junior Birdman of the helmet world. More goofy than scary, certainly, but hey, points for creativity.

Lunch was pasta at Pastificio Defilippis, where they've been in the pasta-making business since 1872. Um, it definitely shows, 'cause the lunchtime menu there is superb. (Even their salad, for which my stomach demanded I skip the pasta--'cause man, sometimes you just need some veggies--was really nice.) They even let you pick a fresh pasta out of their display case, if you so desire, and they'll prepare it for you right then and there. My kinda place.

Next we headed out to the automobile museum of Torino, which was new to all of us. I know next to nothing about cars of any age, but I seem to be really drawn to the old ones. I think it's because they had so much more style than nowadays, just in general.

Look how giant and cushy those seats are, and note the tremendous amounts of leg room! Be still my heart. (1902 Fiat.)

Old-school squeeze-bulb horn!

Loooove this 1937 Packard. Look at that styling and that insane grille.

The Packard's hood ornament. I am utterly infatuated with these things.

See?

LOOK AT THOSE FINS. Hello, Caddy. (1958 Sixty Special.)

Ohhhhhh, Jag E-type. You are the most beautiful car ever. (This is one I actually could pick out of a line-up. 1969.)

This museum had quite a few microcars, which are hilarious. This teeny little guy is from 1959.

I liked the face on this one. (1936 Fiat 500A, converted for racing.)

Back in the city, we stumbled across this gorgeous little passaggio containing the most beautiful--and dangerous--Art Nouveau antique store I've ever seen. I have declared it off-limits to myself, as I reallyreallyreallyreally want quite literally EVERYTHING in there. (And the proprietor is super nice, so it would be terrible to have to rob him, as I certainly can't afford everything in there...)

Dinner on Day 4 was at Con Calma, a restaurant outside the center of Torino that is always worth the taxi ride to get there. More Piemonte home cooking, but they actually have a menu, and thus far, every single thing we've eaten there has been outstanding. (I absolutely and unreservedly recommend both the cheese and meat samplers. To die for.)

Day five began with breakfast at Perino Vesco--they have stunning pastries and focaccia, but also just fantastic sandwiches (my new Italian food obsession--these people do not mess around!!) and really good espresso. And then we tried taking a new way home: up the Great St. Bernard Pass, which is an actual place. It genuinely was great, as we got to miss the stupid traffic at the Gotthard Tunnel; we drove through what I'm renaming the Valley of the Frickin' Castles Everywhere; and the view at the top was pretty spectacular.

This pass is also where they bred and raised the St. Bernards that were used as rescue dogs in the area for centuries. Now, the dogs just kinda chill in their kennels, and go for walks in the pass. (Don't get me wrong, though: these are healthy dogs. None of them were overweight or underfed, and they have several kennel areas accessible both indoors and out.) Sadly, you can't just trot up and pet them, but one did come up to the fence for some scratchings.

Old-style rescue dog accoutrement. Mike loves Saint Bernards because he thinks they just come with those little casks around their necks. (Second item from the left: doggie goggles. Yes.)

What I'm watching: finally got my act in gear and went to see a couple of flicks at the Zürich Film Festival, which is quite a big deal around these parts. We even have a handful of major stars and directors stop through to promote their films, although obviously, I've never been motivated enough to search any of that out. At any rate, I went to check out the latest Bill Murray movie--St. Vincent--the other night, and while it was a bit formulaic, it was still pretty good, and he's fantastic in it. This afternoon, I went to see Gulabi Gang, a documentary about a feminist leader in India, and holy smokes. What a personality, what a strong sense of justice, what a drive to create change. What was really neat, though, was that the director stopped by unexpectedly for a Q&A session at the end. It was pretty great, and I can see why this film festival thing is so popular. There were certainly other movies I would have liked to check out, but I just couldn't make it all work out. Next year, though, I'm on it.

Next up: hey, now I'm only one adventure behind! No surprise here, though...it's more Italy. Rome, to be specific. That is some seriously monumental grandeur, people. I hope you're ready for it.





*No...we all know that's blatantly untrue. This is a great record of all of our travels for me, and plus, what else am I going to do with all of the photos I take, but make you all look at them??

**Nope, impossible. I'll never, ever get tired of medieval castles. Come on.

Swiss shenaningans.

Just a quick warning, friends: the beginning of this here post might be moderately NSFW...but trust me, it could have been a lot worse. That's right: it's time again for my annual coverage of the Street Parade, wherein an actual million people of all ages flood the central Zürich streets for a full day of the loudest techno music you can imagine; giant flatbed trucks sloooooowly driving the streets, loaded with dancers gyrating to more insanely loud techno music; generally terrible food and drink; and--the only reason to go anywhere near Street Parade--the fabulous and/or fantastic, bizarre, scanty, lazy, over-the-top, and generally magnificent range of costumes on the parade attendees themselves. It. Is. Amazing. And totally worth braving the (uncharacteristic) filth and drunk people, nice camera in tow, for a few magical shots of said costumes. Behold.

I love how Disco Man and female sidekick are having what appears to be a totally normal conversation, despite the utter magnificence--and, I'm assuming, non-standard nature--of the way he's dressed. 

I think these were my favorite costumes this year. These "ladies" were dressed as Wonder Woman...

...and--I think--some sort of Transformer. Or possibly Thor.* But in sort of a skimpy-cross-dresser-mirror-ball-robot kinda way, natch. You gotta appreciate the effort they put into these, though, as well as how obviously pleased they were to be photographed. (Makes me feel slightly less creepy, as I sneak around trying to be all surreptitious with my camera. One might think that dressing this way in public clearly invites photography, but I still feel weird about taking pictures of people I don't know.)

HOT COP! Hot cop! He was dancing gyrating in the street with a giant-haired lady dressed rather lady-of-the-evening-like, and his pants kept coming unsnapped at the side. Whence they were obviously meant to be ripped off. Heh.

I thought this little group of fairies was quite lovely and tasteful. 

Ohhhh, Street Parade, how I love you. Where else in Switzerland does one see things like this??

A pack of delinquent Pokemon.

From the back, they kinda remind me of a flock of Peeps.

Green man! On our way home, this guy was about two feet away from us on the train, acting as though it were a perfectly normal day. I know he saw my camera, but I at least tried to wait until we were slightly further apart before documenting him. Sweet fanny chest pack, dude. 

I have many more intriguing photos from Street Parade, friends, but I felt as though these were the best and brightest...and also, some of the rest were genuinely NSFW. I'm a bit envious, though, how genuinely confident some people can be about their bodies, and that's all I'm saying about that.

Next up, we must address a little event that our Swiss friend, Tom, described as "maybe the most Swiss thing I've ever done." (That's how you know we're doing this right, people.) Even before we moved here, we'd heard vague rumors about a mountainside Swiss sporting event featuring burly men in burlap shorts wrestling each other for rewards of livestock, but hadn't really bothered to investigate all of that until this very year, when, yes, we finally got ourselves up to Säntis and the Schwägalp Schwinget. All thanks to Tom, of course, who invited us and was kind enough to drive us out to Appenzell on what felt like the only entirely sunny day we've had this year, back in the middle of August. You all know how I love a good folksy festival, and this one was up there. What an extremely Swissy Swiss delight it turned out to be.

Those are cows, people. Fluffy, fluffy mountain cows.

Only a moment before, this cow had been licking the car to his right. Thoroughly and deliberately.

These guys were the prizes for the wrestling winners. (It's real! It's all real! They were wrestling for livestock!)

First view of the sawdust rings and part of the stands, which were mostly full by the time we got there around 11:00.

And here are the burlap shorts. As far as we can tell, the rules are something like Greco-Roman wrestling, in that if a part of a wrestler lands outside of the sawdust ring, they reset in the middle, and a full victory occurs when part (or all) of someone's back touches the ground. And I think that at least one hand of each opponent has to be on the other's shorts at all times. Wrestlers can earn points for things, but I'm not sure exactly what, although I know that people have won the tournament based on points, and not necessarily pure victories. Whatever the rules, it's really fun to watch, especially when the crowd (and sometimes even the announcer) gets all excited, and even better when the yodel-yelling commences.

This is the initial ready-set position, but more importantly, look at the ref's mustache. It's glorious.

More of the stands, plus the cable car up to Säntis, where we were to have lunch. (I will confess to feeling bit trepidatious about the ride, but it was the un-swingiest cable car ever.)

And here's the view from the top! Not too shabby. Säntis is 2502 meters above sea level, or about 8200 feet.

We ate lunch at the Berggasthaus Alter Säntis, which was a lovely traditional Appenzeller restaurant wherein I had the largest and most beautiful plate of steamed veggies I've ever seen in Switzerland. Before we got to the eatin', though, we found this wee snowman outside the door of the restaurant. (He reminded me of Olaf, as he reveled in the sunshine. [Hee.])

Inside the restaurant, a lovely little band was playing some traditional music. I know they were there for us--the tourists--but I really thought they created such a nice ambiance. Plus, this was the first we'd heard of that dulcimer-type instrument (Hackbrett, auf Deutsch), and it sounds vaguely like an old-timey piano in a Wild West saloon. I dig it.

But also, they were all wearing a single one of these super dangly earrings, which are apparently part of the local traditional garb. Who knew?

Mmmmmm, Appenzeller meats and cheeses. Just a piece of advice, friends: when in Europe, don't ever say no to the plate of local meats 'n cheeses. In my experience, it has never once failed us.

After lunch, we found a higher view of the three-ring wrestling going on. You can't really tell from my photos, but some of them are just these massive, beefy guys. 

All three rings in action, plus a yodel choir.

Then there was some sort of ceremony in which the president of the wrestling association thanked everyone and his or her mother, plus some uncles, cousins, and every imaginable distant relative, and then there were performances from a couple of yodel choirs. This one had flag tossers and a couple of guys playing their giant, giant cowbells.

Another yodel choir, plus some Alp horns.

I found it charming that even during the wrestling bouts, there was some extremely Swiss music being performed in the background. The yodel choirs sang a few times, the Alp horns played, and there was this little band, complete with dulcimer and fiddle, also with that "We played the OK Corral" kind of sound. In retrospect, I should have gone to see whether they sold CDs. I loved them. 

That's a lotta bratwurst, kids. Any festival that has numerous grills this size is all right by me.

After we'd had our fill of wrestling, we headed over to the town of Appenzell proper, which is just lovely and full of these traditional little architectural details. And restaurants which smell (in the best way) of cheese and have shady little patios and serve delicious café glacé.

Fanciest fire hydrant ever.

Super quaint, traditional buildings everywhere in the center.

Utterly charming. (Look at their wee Swiss flags. Awww.)

Just another fun, interesting, unique, cultural festival in the Swiss countryside with good food and a great friend. (Thanks, Tom.) Will we go again? Bet on it.

One more quick-ish mention of things local: Zürich recently had its first street food festival (actually, their website claims it's the first street food festival in Switzerland), which was--obviously--an ecstatic occasion for our little band of foodie friends. We showed up early, we drank expensive drinks, and we shared, among other things, kimchi tacos (outstanding); fish 'n chips (pretty good); a surf 'n turf burger (shrimp, not lobster, but still delicious); Vietnamese steamed buns (one veggie, one pork; good, but seriously overpriced [thanks, Switzerland!]); a wee Spanish tortilla (tasty); a ginormous, delectable, and wicked-affordable meze plate (falafel, hummus, the only baba ganoush I've ever liked, a citrusy salad, flatbread, all for CHF 12!!); a whole smoked trout (yum); a pulled pork sandwich with steamed beet bun (really yum); a slice of "65-hour cidre steak" (er, ok) on toast (good); okonomiyaki (Japanese omelettes...a little strange, but tasty); and a bowl of caprese salad. I am a little sad that we missed the jambalaya, the Uzbek food, and the pierogies, but we had other plans that weekend and couldn't go back for days 2 and 3 of the festival. Sigh. It was still joyous and fun and delicious, though, and since our friendly apartment neighbors know some of the organizers, we will do everything in our power to convince them to influence the Powers that Be to make it happen again. In the mean time, here's a shot of the festive tent just before we left.

It was raining, but thanks to the tent and our full and happy bellies, we didn't care. Please, please, Powers that Be, can we do this again?

What we're watching: well, I put it off for a really long time 'cause I was afraid it would be too violent for me, but the good news is, it's not so bad. Plus, it's a super-seminal show, so it's about time: The Sopranos. Ugh, it's so crazy and addictive and amazing, and Gandolfini...just wow. What a superb talent, and what an terribly and unfortunately early exit. He is remarkable in this show--obviously--although I have to say that for me, Silvio (that face!) and Paulie's hair kinda steal it sometimes. Still trying to finish up the last episode of So You Think You Can Dance, but we don't have it yet...and oh, the tribulation! Will I ever know who won? Will I ever get to see those last few remaining fabulous young people dance their hearts out, in styles and genres that are not their own?? (That's why I love this show: these people do things with their bodies that I could only dream about, even in my youngest and fittest days. They make it onto the show due to their outstanding ability in whatever their speciality is, then get thrown into routines far, far outside their respective comfort zones. It's all quite spectacular, even though stupid America voted off my favorite dancer in the last episode I watched. Stupid.)

What I'm reading: recently finished Laurie Notaro's entire catalog, then it was on to The Wave, by Susan Casey, about people (including both scients and surfers, oddly enough) who study and/or chase giant ocean waves. Well written and genuinely compelling, and I really recommend it. Now I'm reading America's Hidden History, by Kenneth C. Davis. It's essentially a compendium (limited, obviously) of some relatively overlooked, but fairly important, events in American history, which more-or-less boils down to a list of violent atrocities committed by the people, on the people. It's also pretty interesting, but fairly brutal. But still, interesting.

What we're eating: "we" is more in the royal sense here, given that I'm home by myself while Mike is out on the West Coast eating nothing but sushi (bah, humbug!), but I can tell you that last night I made this salad, and it was truly delicious. (Also baked a couple of wee loaves of this bread, and while it's a bit on the eggy and squash-flavored side, it's also quite tasty. I don't do bread you have to knead, so this is about the best I can muster, but I can tell you that it's AWESOME with some nice salty butter on top. And also, "reduced-fat feta"...heh. Why even bother, then??)

Criminy, I just realized that I very nearly got through an entire post without going utterly overboard about food, and that will not stand. I think it's time that I finally put figurative pen to paper and share with you this little gem that I've been saving for a just the right time, and I believe that that time is now. Buckle in.

Also what I'm eating: I know I've mentioned these very briefly before (see such posts as Edinburgh), but WEIRD POTATO CHIPS. I've been eating those. Specifically, anything with meat flavoring, because it's so truly outside the realm of anything I could ever have imagined beforehand. And disgusting-sounding, I know, but I think it's like those people who are drawn to McDonald's varied offerings around the world: it's an opportunity to sample the utterly bizarre junk food of another culture, and I dig it. The first time I tried meat-flavored potato chips, I was astounded by how bratwurst-y they tasted, and while they weren't the best chips I've ever had, I was hooked. Next came hamburger chips in Zürich--oddly burger-y!--and then some Ruffles with jamon in Mallorca. I find that the citizens of the UK are by far the most meat-chip-fixated, however, and I have proof:

You've seen this photo before, but did you really look? Here's Ham & English Mustard, BBQ Ribs, Roast Ox (!), Thai Sweet Chicken, and Flame Grilled Steak. Sadly, I was too overwhelmed by Edinburgh at the time to grab a bag of each and do my weird-chip-taste-testing full justice. I cannot claim to be nearly the connoisseur that I'd like to be, but it's a work in progress, people. It may never be finished.

Also appearing in this same little take-away shop: Roast Beef & Mustard and Smoked Ham & Pickle. So regretting that I didn't collect them all.

And so, because I've felt strangely compelled to discuss this fixation with you, dear reader, I will now present a run-down of all the flavors I've tried over the last year or so.** 

• Walkers Chili Beef (UK): the bag claims, "Double-deep ridges as of 040412". Good to know these here ridges are well established. These chips taste like actual chili con carne and beef. Not too shabby.
• Walkers Roasted Chicken (UK): so very chicken-y. Roasted, even. It's quite reassuring, though, to check the back of the bag and find that, in fact, "roasted chicken" is in the ingredient list. Not entirely sure that I want to be familiar with the process of how, exactly, one goes about getting roasted chicken onto a potato chip, but at least it's the real thing. (Somehow.)
• Walkers Smoky Bacon (UK): Mike bought these for me, since he knows how compulsive and enthusiastic about this I am. These reminded me of pork rinds, which I don't think I've eaten since my age was in the single digits, and so I guess it's a hazy recollection, at best. We did, however, finish the bag, so I guess the pork rinds of memory weren't all bad.
• McCoy's Flame Grilled Steak (UK): I think these are my favorite of the bunch. Quite salty and seasoned, with a bit of a beefy flavor--but not too much--thrown into the mix. Oddly compelling, and I'll admit to having eaten more than one bag. (No, not full-sized bags, sheesh. I'm merely a taster, not an addict.)
• Tyrrell's Roast Ham & Cranberries (UK, although I found them here): maybe my least favorite of the bunch. Started out very strong with a sweet (although not necessarily cranberry-like), hammy flavor, then faded to a sour-sweet aftertaste. Not terrible, but certainly not that good, although the bag claims that they're "Great with a glass of red!", so maybe that was why I was unimpressed--I failed to eat these obviously classy chips with a glass of wine. Duly noted.
• Zweifel Fejoada (CH): this was one of three flavors on which one could vote for the World Cup champion of chips. Fejoada, in case you don't know (and I didn't, until rather recently) is a Portuguese stew of beans, beef, and pork; is the national dish of Brazil; and is absolutely, fantastically delicious. As a chip, it was pretty decent: it had a rather rich, slightly smoky flavor, with beef and red bell pepper (I kid you not--it had to be there, since I have absolutely no palate!). Although I cannot keep potato chips in my house--I eat them compulsively, if I have access--it's almost a shame that this particular flavor isn't a regular one.
• Zweifel Currywurst (CH): I was dreading these, since actual Berliner-style currywurst is truly heinous, but these turned out to be a relatively pleasant surprise. More tomato-y than ketchupy, with only a hint of the wurst flavor, and less sweet than I expected. 
• Zweifel Älplermagronen (CH): Ok, so this wasn't a meaty chip, but I felt like I had to collect the World Cup trifecta. Obviously, the Swiss chip producers had to throw their own World Cup flavor into the ring, and so it was Alpine macaroni, which usually has cream, a heap of mountain cheese, onions, the obligatory noodles, and sometimes even bacon. Always delicious in real life, it was a bit weird as a chip--the cheese flavor wasn't right, and there was no onion or bacon. Booo. 

Man, I feel like I've really accomplished something today: how often in one's life does one get to write a treatise on oddly-flavored potato chips? (I almost just typed "flavoured" there--must be all this talk of UK chips going to my head.) As is obvious, dear readers, I will continue to report back as I discover new and bizarre chip flavors; it's a fun, strange little experiment, and one I'm quite enjoying. 

Next up: a little bit of Italy. Always, more Italy. We cannot get enough.

*Look. I don't do comic books, and I don't care about them at all. So if you actually know who this person is supposed to be, and think I'm somewhat dim for not knowing, then probably keeping it to your know-it-all self would be the best course of action, here, buddy. I did some half-hearted research trying to figure out whom (or what) this lady-man might be dressed as, but seeing as how I didn't really find anything convincing, I'm laying the matter to rest.

**No, I haven't been recording my weird-chip experiments for a full year; it's just that my early experiences with these flavors were quite memorable. (Except for some sort of prawn-flavored potato chip, which, apparently, was rather meh, as I'd forgotten about it entirely until just now.) Also, I did a BUNCH of chip tastings this summer, when the World Cup flavors appeared and, as I was perusing the chip aisle at our local grocery store, I discovered Tyrell's there. Then it occurred to me that I should maybe start writing this down, because A) for no fathomable or explainable reason, I'm rather proud of this fixation--and not ashamed to admit that it's utterly strange; and B) who else will voluntarily do this type of research for you? I almost feel like it's my duty, my obligation to society. You're all very welcome.