The Elephant and Butter spun its leg-limbs around quite a bit the other day, riding Rocinante to the next town o'er. The reasoning went something like this: if I'm going to fritter away money on cultural objects, I at least need to exert myself to do so. The ride was pleasant, the sun penetrating the canopy of the rail trail and creating light speckles all up in the joint. About halfway to my destination I stopped at Sofia's, a modest little Polish café adjacent to the trail, where I ordered a vivifying snack of three asparagus-cheese pierogi on a paper plate. I'm very glad I did. Fried up with flecks of onion and a nice sheen of oil, the pierogi were made from a good, gummy dough that yielded easily to the merest force of my fork. The asparagus, picked in town, sat in a hot mastic of salty cheese. Fueled by these pierogi, I sped up the hill to town, where I had the outrageous fortune of finding deals on Thelonious Monk and Peter Tosh. Then on the way back, more spinning of the leg-limbs.
