Fishing Guide to the Stars
by Kramer Wetzel
(c) 2005, 2006 by Kramer Wetzel for astrofish.net
For the Week starting: 5.4.2006
“By heaven, I do love, and it has taught me to rhyme, and to be melancholy.”
Shakespeare’s Love’s Labour’s Lost (IV.iii.332)
Start of May, Cinco de Gringo, this weekend, time to look at food issues — it’s a Taurus thang.
Aries: Hot, spicy, and a little cool, too. Something to add some balance to the next couple of days, that should be in order for the Aries corner. I encountered a food item that I could only have dreamed about, it was a typical outdoor springtime event, and at this one booth, they were making “matinee chips.” The “chips” were just normal, tiny slices of jalapeno, lightly battered and deep-fried, then served in a tiny paper bucket, with a little side of Ranch Dressing. Here was the most perfect of foods: battered, fried, served with ranch dressing on the side. The huckster was extolling the virtues of the dressing, explaining that it was hot and cool at the same time. On a hot spring night? Perfect ticket. It’s mostly Mars that you’re feeling, and he’s mostly treating you like those deep-fried peppers, hot, and possibly covered in a light brown batter. Not always a good place. The way to ease yourself through this next couple of days is to find your version of Ranch Dressing. That rounds out the culinary experience, and since it softens the heat of the peppers, like I’ve suggested, it can also lessen the impact of the Mars-induced trauma.
Taurus: I like my food to be hot and spicy. What I’ve discovered, more recently, is that “one adult portion” is frequently too much for me, in one sitting. So next to the live bait, dead bait, and other stuff in my ice box, I’ve got a Styrofoam container or two, usually with something left over. Like hot pork stew, or some kind of similar remnants of a recent repast. It was the “pork chunks in hot sauce” that I thought about as I looked at your chart. Then I speared one on a fork, and munched on the pork bit for breakfast. It tasted a little stronger than it did two evenings earlier. Something about the peppers in the sauce, and over time, or maybe sitting next to the live bait, I’m not sure which, gives all of that a chance to stew in its juices, and the peppers seem more piquant, seem to pick up speed, over the intervening hours (and days). From my chili-making days, I know that some culinary heat picks up over time. Happy birthday and so on. Like that pork stew, you’re getting a little older. And like that pork stew, you’re picking up some extra spice. Or the inherent Taurus spice is getting just touch stronger. Careful that you don’t burn yourself, or someone else, during this next few days. Personally, I think the stronger peppers, the stronger Taurus folks, are better. But that’s a personal preference.
Gemini: “Oh no, my dad was with the health board for years, you don’t want to know about their kitchen.” It was an Austin neighbor, and she was talking about me raving about a certain restaurant in a certain town (not Austin), and how I favored that location for comfort food when so far from home. Good guess? Probably a Tex-Mex place in San Antonio. Old San Antonio. Just a little west of downtown. Comfort food? By the platter. The comment about the dubious conditions of the health department’s report? To be expected. What I’ve found, the best tasting grub doesn’t always come from the immaculate, clean-enough-for-surgery kind of places. For me, there’s got to be an aura of a dive, real or imagined. Since I’ve never, ever suffered from any food-related incident at that one location, I’d suggest that the modern standards and the way that works, those two may not line up exactly. Follow your own lead; don’t trust what others say. Just because a place isn’t reputed to have the cleanest of kitchens? That doesn’t mean that it’s not a good place for a Gemini to seek solace. Besides, like me, if you have long history with one particular place, just because you neighbors don’t like that place, that doesn’t make the place bad. Again, follow your own lead.
Cancer: There’s a host of outdoor festivals in the area, especially in the springtime. Weather’s usually not too hot, and the events offer a great deal of fodder for entertainment — on more than one level. There’s always the food booths, too. One place had “pork wings.” I had to have one. I mean, I have no idea what a “pork wing” was, at least, not until I asked. “You know, from ‘pig that can fly,’ that’s where they’re from,” the vendor explained. She smirked. Turns out, as a localized version of chicken wings, originally from Buffalo, NY, the pork wings are a BBQ answer to a northern delicacy. It was a good pork rib, but I didn’t recognized the cut. Eventually, I got to the bottom of the situation — all in the interest providing a Cancer with a good a scope — and it was a “country-style” pork rib. Just a different cut, that’s all. Wasn’t bad, in fact, it had a lot more meat than I’d anticipated, so it was a real meal, in and of its self. I fell for the huckster’s “pork wings” sign. But I was pleasantly pleased with the culinary experience. Go ahead and dig a little, Mars makes you hungry to try something that you might not otherwise try.
Leo: “I’m glad you’re my brother, otherwise, I’d have to hurt you,” my sister said, and then she laughed. She’d sent me care package that contained a lot of chocolate. I’m not much of a chocolate person myself. I’d called and thanked her for the thought, then I was wondering what to do with the chocolate itself. I’d suggested, in jest, that I could rig it with a number three hook, and use the chocolate as bait for women. I pose as an alpha male to counterpoint my ulta-leftwing-liberal stridently feminist sister. Just posturing, but it makes for a more enjoyable interchange. My sister was less than thrilled at my piggish suggestion. Which might have been the point. Or the point might’ve been the number three hook embedded in the chocolate candies. Never can tell. Bait is bait, though, doesn’t matter what the target is. I was thinking about the conversation when I looked through your chart. I realized that just such a bait would work well on a Leo, especially now. Might not be a deluxe chocolate itself, with a number three (sometimes a number large-gap number two worm) hook in it, but it could be a comment like mine. I was just baiting her. But she’s not a Leo, and if you’re reading this, then the odds are that you are a Leo. As such, I’d be careful about being baited. One way or another.
Virgo: I fell prey to my own hubris the other afternoon. I was spooling some new-fangled fishing line onto a reel, and I usually get three reel’s worth out of a spool like that. So I didn’t bother to read the instructions. Or rather, since this is for Virgo, I didn’t bother to read the label on the spool of line. It only held a little over 100 yards of fishing line, not the usual 330 yards. So, after I tested the first fishing reel with the new-fangled stuff, I decided to put it on a different reel. I stripped the second reel, and stated winding the new line on. I got about sixteen turns into winding up that line when the spool ran out. New spool. Expensive stuff. Good stuff, too. But there was only 130 yards, not 330 yards of line on the now empty spool. Said so, right on the label I’d ignored. Which, in turn, makes the new line three times more expensive than I originally thought. The upside? It’s good stuff. And I have one reel with the new stuff that works well. The downside is the price. Weigh your options. Read the label. Something obvious is going to escape you, if you don’t. Could be something as simple as fishing line, or, I suspect, a little more complex.
Libra: There’s a little dive, not far from where I live, a little, kind of redneck-looking joint, with fake ivy and checkered oilskin tablecloths, tacked to the tables. Reminds me of a beer joint, but they did have liquor license. Not that it matters. The basic fare is supposedly Italian, along with the requisite beer and burgers. Plus, there’s a little live stage there. Music, of one variety or another, most weeknights. I always have fun there because the foods items lend themselves to mocking. My personal favorite? “Italian enchiladas.” I forget what the real name is, and I think it’s the Thursday night special, home-made pasta. But it looks and tastes like a Italian enchilada to me. With what’s occurring in your chart, a slightly askew since of humor and some fun with naming conventions will help. The moon is on the rise, getting fuller and fuller, and you should be looking forward to a lot of activity. Some of it borders on routine action, but sometimes, if you’re willing to stretch your mind, you’ll find that there is some amusement to be had. Look at a familiar dish, like the Thursday special? Look at in a different light, like Italian enchiladas.
Scorpio: (Ma Wetzel claims to be a vegetarian; therefore, adjust this scope as need be to fit individual Scorpio tastes.) Friday night was festival food. The best, a point that can easily be argued, but on of the culinary high points was some kind of marinated “beef on a stick.” Just chunks of tough meat, marinated to soften it some and added flavor, then slow-roasted over some kind of a portable grill. Typical festival food, and actually, pretty tasty in a chewy way. It’s beef on a stick, at an outdoor event, can’t expect much, but the seasoning and cooking was properly executed, and that rendered the foodstuffs serviceable. The next evening? It was Indian Food, not like festival “Indian Fry Bread,” but like Tandori. Curry. Mysterious spices. Hot in a different way. Lamb kebob, I think, was the main dish. Back to meat on a stick. But these meals, although similar in appearance, as in they were both “meat on stick,” that’s where the similarities ended. One was basically a Central American food item (Mexican or Tex-Mex) whereas the other was definitely (Eastern) Indian. I was looking for similarities. You’re Scorpio; you’re looking for similarities. You can suggest that the only item in common was the stick, and I’d agree, but there’s more at work here. Dig a little deeper, as if that’s a Scorpio challenge, and see how the two items, disparate but the same, compare. Flavor and spices might vary, as does the source, but the idea is the same. Kabob, kebob, or my moniker, “meat on a stick.” Look for what’s similar, not what’s different. The sun in Taurus is opposite your little beneficial Jupiter thing, you know.
Sagittarius: Corn or flour tortillas? It’s a decision I have to make almost daily. From my experience, the flour tortillas tend to be better. There’s a place, not far from me, two in fact, three now that I think about it, maybe even four, where the flour tortillas are done by hand. Good, good stuff. In fact, at least two or three those places don’t even advertise that the tortillas are made, right there, in the kitchen. It’s almost as if that aspect of cooking was expected rather than some kind of marketing ploy. But there’s another place, again, just around the corner, and the corn tortillas, again, made in the kitchen, by hand, are amazing. So the usual decision binary decision is easy, at least, for me, it’s easy. That’s what the next couple of days are about, binary decision process. Like “corn or flour tortillas,” we’ve got us a simple decision to make. Personally, unless you know different? I’d stick with flour tortillas, but my suggestions is colored by my long experience with just such items. Might stick to what’s tried, true, and not-too-adventuresome, just for the nxt couple of days.
Capricorn: There are several topics that are hotly debated, like sex, politics and BBQ. Many opinions, some right, some wrong. Of those three topics, though, perhaps the most important is BBQ. I have many strong feelings about places to eat BBQ, who does what best, the best ribs, the best pulled pork, the best brisket, and so forth. While I stand by my opinions, I realize that I’m not always the most objective food critic. I would tend to believe that 100 mile radius of where I live offers the best BBQ in the world, but I understand that it might just be my perception. The trick that seems inherent with all the good BBQ places I’ve been to? The common element is one of time. Slow-roasted. Slow-smoked. Slow-cooked. Time. Lots of time. 24 hours is not too long for a piece of meat to sit in a cooker. Like that slab of brisket in the smoker? Takes a while. Slow-roasted to perfection. The problem is time. For Capricorn, with Mars on the other side of the wheel? You tend to think in “microwave” terms. “2 minutes on high.” That works with some events. That works for some foods. That doesn’t work for BBQ perfection. Imagine that you’re like that slab of something in the smoker. Slow-roasted. Do Not Hurry. Even though Mars makes microwave meal look better. Hasty Capricorn is not tasty Capricorn.
Aquarius: Ever want to make a minor adjustment to your own astrology chart? You know, just taker a single planet and move it around? Adjust planet’s position to make you feel better about something? Don’t you wish it was that easy? “I don’t like this planet here, can you just move it over a little?” Sure, I’ll see what I can do. It’s about the recipe for life. The Life of Aquarius. You’re not one for always following the recipe exactly. You’re also not one for doing what you’re supposed to do, correctly, according to the dictums of others. So as we’re cooking something up in Aquarius, there’s a set of guidelines you’re supposed to follow, It’s the recipe, as set forth in the recipe book, or maybe some place online, who knows who makes up these recipes, anyway? As much as you’re tempted to modify the recipe for this week, as you go along, let me just give a helpful suggestion. I’m not saying that you don’t have certain ideas that wouldn’t be good, and I’m not saying that you shouldn’t plan on eventually modifying the rules to suit you, but I am strongly urging, not telling, just urging, that you follow the recipe — the instructions — exactly as they are spelled out. It’s not a big deal, the way I’d look at it? The guidelines are certainly open to interpretation. But first, try it the way you’re supposed to try it before you start modifying it. Consider that first try like an experiment in following the directions, just so you can see what you can improve upon later. It’s not a good time for impromptu improvisation. Tablespoon, teaspoon, what’s the difference?” The dinner guests might know. Don’t let it happen afgter the fact.
Pisces: It’s just another “big box” store, to me. Only, to one of my friends, she regards it as a “Disney Land of food,” a reference that I don’t quite get. Not that I’d let is stop me, either. The place was something else, a big box store, which went out of business. A Chinese chain moved in. Only, it’s not really just Chinese food, it covers all the Asian food groups as far as I know, Thai, Korean, Japanese, and probably some that I don’t know. It’s buffet-style, and at one time, it would’ve been styled as “family” dining. This one place, though, it has a flair for the local flavors. Along with the aforementioned food groupings, there’s also, in season, crawfish. Tiny, freshwater lobsters, really, done in proper Cajun style, although, they could use a bit more spice. And then there’s “steak fingers,” with cream gravy on the side, at the buffet line. Again, I’m not sure how that fits with the Asian foodstuffs, but who am I to criticize a place I like? Imagine that you’re looking at a buffet line like that. Imagine that you go down the line, the vegetarian sushi, the mussels in cheese sauce, the various rice dishes, the little dumpling things, and then you see this heaping mound of crawdads. It’s not nearly as bad as you think, either, as you will be surprised at how well crawfish goes with a spring roll, egg roll, Pad Thai and Moo-shoo pork. It’s about trying something a little more adventuresome than your mind would like. Could be food, could be something else on the buffet of life.
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copyright (c) 2005, 2006 Kramer Wetzel, for astrofish.net
