Sunday began with a nice healthy breakfast of this:
It looks like bundt cake, doesn't it? It's actually a phyllo - ricotta - herb torte. I found the recipe at one of the blogs I follow. Magpie Musing? I can't recall. You can also find the recipe at the New York Times, People at work likened it to something called spanakopita, which I have never had. It's damn impressive.
After breakfast I was determined to make it to the St. Louis verison of Edinburgh Festival Fringe. I hustled Gary out of the house at ten thirty in the morning, under duress. Such duress, such indignity, poor retired man leaving the house IN THE MORNING, my God, my God. I insisted we get there early to get a decent parking space.
Well, we got a prime space because we got there an hour and a half early. I had promised Gary a hopping street scene and the streets were deserted. It was in Grand Center, so we went back to the Contemporary Art Museum, where we were just a few weeks ago. The Cow was still enduring her agonizing breech birth, but thankfully Sunday was the last day of that. The CAM re-invents itself four times a year. It'll be closed for several weeks and then re-open with all new art.
The Fringe festival was a little like a music festival, only with theater. Unlike a music festival, there was no wandering from play to skit to monologue. You bought tickets and you didn't come late. We got tickets to see an illusionist, and since we didn't want to be late, we decided locate the venue an hour befoirehand.
A pretty young brunette saw us poking around by the Fox.
"Are you looking for the theater with the illusionist?" She was the event director for that particular show, and had she not introduced herself, I would have been taken in by the illusionist's most baffling trick. As it was, he pulled her "randomly" out of the audience. A plant! You would think knowing how a trick is done would make you not enjoy the illusion, but I find it's better. I'd rather solve a puzzle than be mystified. He did stump us for a while with a trick in which he joined three rings together, but we figured it out on the drive home.
If you'd like to see some excellent photos of the show we attended, click that link and visit the St. Louis Daily Photo blog. I visit that blog every day, and in fact that's where I'd first read about the festival, so I was thrilled to see the blogger himself taking photos. I went up to him and expressed my appreciation. Regrettably, I imagine I stepped over the line when I recognized his wife from her infrequent portraits, and then even worse, mentioned their granddaughter by name. Kind of a creepy stalker move. Ah well.
When we emerged from the show, it was to the same deserted street-scape that had led us earlier to reprise "My Time of Day" from Guys and Dolls. So we decided to head out and instead visit again next Saturday evening to see "Big Hair, Big Dreams" (the Trump Puppet Show Musical). That'll be from five till six, and then dinner, and by then the usual theater crowd will be milling around. I think that's what's been missing from my last two visits to that area.