11:48 a.m. - 2009-09-08
Enchilada Day
Yes, I know it sounds really crazy at first--perhaps even a threat to your very sensibilities!--and it's an idea that takes some getting used to. Best just to say it to yourself slowly a few times and allow it to sink in: Enchiladas for lunch. Enchiladas for lunch. Eventually you'll grow to accept it. I did.
It was in Michigan City, Indiana, a week ago Monday. We were halfway home from Ann Arbor, Kia and I and the two Yid Vicious reeds players. It was around noon and we had earned a liesurely lunch. In the past when making the Michigan/Wisconsin or vice versa trip, Kia and I had dined in Paw-Paw, Michigan, about an hour east of Michigan City. I liked the name Paw-Paw. It had a Big Boy and a Chicken Shack. We never tried the latter out of hepatitis fear and the Big Boy eventually closed. So, for the last couple years we've been at loose ends for a regular midpoint Michigan/Wisconsin lunch spot.
So then, a week ago Monday we were driving home and I suggested Michigan City as a place halfway home with lots of food options, owing to its size. I was secretly hoping for a stop at the White Castle, although this was a longshot. One of the reeds players is a vegetarian. The other reeds player has opposite-of-a-vegetarian dietary restrictions that are never totally clear to me. Like, I think he can eat sandwiches, but only if they're sandwiches with meat on them, and the bread is made out of pork chops and the condiments are made of bacon. Something like that. While I was ruminating on this, Kia remembered the Mexican restaurant. It was really easy to find, right on the main drag, and we had eaten there before and been more than happy with our mixed fajita platter. Everyone agreed that the Mexican place would be a splendid lunch choice.
We quickly found the place and piled into a booth. It was pleasant to be out of the car and sitting in a booth in a restaurant that wasn't too brightly lit. As it turns out, this place was situated next door to the White Castle, whose sign I could easily see through the window from where I was sitting. Was I a tad wistful, spying that fortress-like yet inviting logo? Yes, but just a tad. For I knew that a fine lunch awaited us where we sat. Kia and I both ordered the featured lunch special, a four enchilada plate, congratulating ourselves for our daring and willingness to buck societal trends. I was so swept up in all the excitement that I failed to note what the reeds players had ordered. I don't think either of them ordered enchiladas.
Waiting for our food, we chatted about the concert we'd played the night before, about Spanish and how much Spanish would be necessary for the Buenos Aires trip, about this and that. Kia ordered a Mexican cola with sugar, not corn syrup, and non-vegetarian reeds player ordered a margarita which turned out to be fish-bowl size (he having finished his driving shift) and which made me secretly envious. He allowed us all sips. It was a good margarita.
Eventually our food came. The enchiladas were mixed: 1 chicken, 1 beef, 1 bean and 1 cheese. The chicken one, which I ate first, was very good; the beef one was ground, not shredded, but still flavorful; the cheese about what you'd expect; the bean one a little pointless. But the real star of the meal was the sauce. Dark reddish in color, it was smoky and sublime. Spicy but not pepperey, tangy but not acidic, and with just a hint of the mole flavor. Truly this was a sauce to be reckoned with. Both Kia and I enjoyed our enchilada platter. The others seemed content with their choices as well. We left, having had a good meal and with the knowledge that we'd be back. Hopefully next time I'll learn the name of the place.
Of course, it wasn't ALL klezmer and enchiladas that weekend. That Saturday, before we made the trip we got the tragic news about David Austin, former Yid Vicious trumpeter, family man, advocate for social and political justice, and Nicest Guy in the World. I didn't get to know David that well, unfortunately. I subbed with YV maybe five or six times when he was the trumpet player and before I was a member. I remember really enjoying my first couple of times playing with them. These weren't the stereotypically jaded, mercenary, back-stabbing musician types like you hear about. They were fun! And positive, and non-judgemental and welcoming. And I'm guessing a lot of that was David's influence: I never saw him when he didn't have a smile, a joke, a kind word for someone or something. He was the kind of person who made everyone around him feel good. I was told later that he felt uncomfortable about his trumpet playing, that he felt like he was the odd man out and not a "real" musician like the other YVers. I don't know how much trumpet chops he really had, but in my experience he always played with plenty of Moxie. In Yid Vicious at least, the Moxie is what really matters.
So, next time you find yourself with a glass in your hand, please to raise it once for David Austin. He was taken from us far too soon and will be missed.
