Madison, WI Day 2

Nick: There was a cereal once. They don’t make it anymore, and in fact only made it for a couple years when they did. This cereal was special, and unlike any cereal before, during, or after its brief reign. This cereal was called “Hidden Treasures,” and “Hidden Treasures” looked just like “Kix” cereal, except one out of four or five cereal pieces were full of luscious fruit filling. But you could never tell which ones were full of the yums and which were full of the blahs. Many eateries on this trip have been like “Hidden Treasures.” Every now and then we get lucky, and find the one, purely accidentaly, that’s truly special and delicious. We woke up and started walking. There was a small restaurant called “Sophia’s” near Gabriella’s place. There were a lot of people standing inside the very small restaurant. We ordered, and sat outside on a bench, waiting for the waitress to bring out the chow. This restaurant is opened eight hours per week. Turns out the universe can only tolerate that amount of deliciousness.

Brian: We ordered croissant sandwiches with egg and cheese and I think they screwed up our order because they brought us each a plate of amazing with a side of love. We ate them silently and respectfully. Respectful of the fact that we were removing something so wonderful and delicious from the world. By the time we got back to Gabriella’s, she and her sister were heading out to the Madison farmer’s market, so we decided to tag along. Even as a Seattleite with the Pike Place Market as a basis for comparison, I have to say I was pretty impressed. Except what Seattle has in fish, Wisconsin has in cheese. Our mission was to find some fresh cheese curds, but at every stall we visited they were sold out. After making a complete round, Gabby made the executive decision to order some from a nearby restaurant where she used to work. Am I overstepping my bounds by saying that what ensued gave even the Double Down a run for its money?

Nick: Apples and oranges, I would say. We may have eaten consumed more calories this day, but the Double-Down is a specimen for which there is no comparison. The fried cheese curds were good though, I’m glad we finally got some. I was especially fond of the various dipp’n sauces, in particular the spicy ranch. After we were all adequately stuffed on cheesy Midwestern goodness, we took what I, in my artery clogged condition, would call a long walk all over the nearby university. It seemed like the Badgers were playing that day, so there were a lot of people up, out, and about. Next was a little downtime for digestion purposes back at the apartment. And also some pepper-infused vodka which, for reasons that truly boggle the mind, tasted just like cheese. I really don't know. Then it was bag time.

Brian: There is a game that goes by various names that is quite popular in parts of the US that I’m not from. The basic premise is throwing beanbags at slanted boards with holes in them. It’s like long distance team skee-ball with beanbags. Anyway, they call it Corn-hole, and maybe the reason it hasn’t really caught on where I’m from is because where I’m from that word means something different. Regardless, I set aside the connotation and Nick and I had a 1-1 record for the night. Not too shabby for my second time playing. We only had a couple beers during the game, which was for the best, because we had big plans for the night. Hint: drinking beer out of non-traditional (or perhaps extremely traditional) vessels.

Nick: Daz right, iz time for daz boot. Ze ladies had talked about ze Boots in Madison for the last day or two, zo it vas time to go to ze Essen Haus vich vas a local polka bar and GET SOME BOOT! Brian, wasting no time, did some big time damage to the first boot which was, btw, not a small undertaking. The second boot was my boot. The third boot… the third boot taught us both some things about perseverance and endurance. But don’t worry people, we took it down. And had enough energy and stamina to hit the polka floor for some raucous German dance steps. We combined the pop and lock with the polka, creating the polka lock. Amazing to behold. After that, memory comes back in bits and pieces. I remember… we ended up at a different bar somewhere because our group wanted to play darts. And… something about more cheese curds? I don’t know, it was an adventure.

Brian: Well I definitely remember you buying another round of fried cheese curds, which I thought was the worst idea ever, then the best idea ever, then later, again, the worst idea ever. But yeah three boots is a lot for even the world’s greatest consumers (currently us). Sorry for the abrupt ending, but that’s what the night felt like for me too. Brian and Nick, aus.