Crescent Moon Bakery

So there I was, driving around town, minding my own business, when suddenly I found myself in an Afghani cafe eating.

I shouldn't have been so surprised, driving makes me hungry, like many things.

This particular Afghanistani eatery was called the Crescent Moon Bakery on the corner of Central Ave NE and 24th Avenue. Using "recovered memory" hypnotherapy I was able to recall how the hell I found myself in this place. I was forced to park on the street in front of the cafe (non-metered). From the outside the place looked like every other old building on the street, only color pictures of various dishes were displayed on the windows. This was a nice advertisement for what awaited me, I presumably thought, although it prevented me from seeing inside to what awaited me.

What awaited me, it turned out, was a number of nondescript white tables and brown chairs reminiscent of every cafeteria this side of the Mason-Dixon. This clashed with the ornately decorated walls which bore tasteful murals of things that may or may not be traditional activities of the Afghanistani people. I mean kite flying and horse games, obviously, for those of you unfamiliar with their rich culture and whatnot.

High on the wall was a really big flat screen TV that played some sort of Arabic television program. Unfortunately, the pain of daytime television transcends cultural boundaries. It was some sort of awful children's show that was poorly animated at best and relied heavily on puppets and crappy computer graphic fireworks. It seemed to have many of the qualities of any other children's show, only I had to stare at it more blankly than usual because the bizarre shenanigans that take place on a kiddie show make even less sense in another language. Also there was a snippet of Tin Tin in English, but that show sucks anyway.

Occasionally it played some music, and that was pleasant. But I wasn't there to watch television, I was there to eat delicious delicious food. I hadn't made it that far yet, because I hadn't ordered. Lets move on to that.

The man who served me was very, very old, and spoke very few words, most of which were very sincere sounding 'thank you's.

The menu was had reasonable variety, and the prices were very fair. I ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, the Sultani plate at thirteen bucks and change. I would live to regret that. Also I ordered an "Afghani Sheer Chai" for a drink.

The chai was delicious. Imagine your favorite sugary cereal, and the milk left over after you eat it. Heat the milk up, and you have the chai. Wonderful.

The food was a little slow getting to me, but there were several orders before mine. Eventually a man came out with my plate. The Sultani plate was some sort of beef thing, some sort of lamb chunk things, a lot of rice, and a salad.

The salad was very fresh and comprised entirely of lettuce, tomato, and cucumber. It was nude, but there was a little tub of something white in a cheap plastic serving cup which I will assume was ranch. I did not partake of the ranch possibility.

The lamb chunk things were very good, bearing a mildly hot but very rich spice that complimented the mild meat flavor. The rice was very good as well, and was of a thin, fluffy variety. It had raisin and carrot on top, which complimented the flavor with their sweetness very well. Also there was a grilled tomato chunk, green pepper slice, and what I think was a lime.

The beef thing was something else entirely. It was not unpleasant, except its overall appearance. It was a long, thick cylinder that tapered on the edges and had a bit of a pinch in the middle. It was brown, with a marble texture like wet beef jerky.

In short, it looked like a turd.

Now, I usually attempt to avoid eating anything that even looks vaguely like the server took a crap on my plate. In fact, if I am ever given reason to doubt whether or not I am eating a poop I refuse to eat at all. This is the risk I am willing to go through for you, gentle reader.

It was delicious.

It had much the same spice as the lamb, only bore a rich beef flavor. Its texture was indeed like moist beef jerky. A seemingly paradoxical combination, no? It was like ground beef, only the individual parts of beef remained flaky chunks like a dry steak would be. It was held together by unseen forces of fat and delicious magics. You really have to eat it to get a good picture of what I am trying to describe. Suffice it to say it was good.

Now, earlier I mentioned regretting all of this. At no point have I given any indication the meal was bad. This is the problem. The beef thing was easily a foot long and an inch in diameter. The lamb chunk things were pretty big too. Also, there was a whole crapload of the rice and some bland bread. There was simply too much. I ate until I could eat no more, then I ate some more. I felt like I may burst. Then I burst, which helped me eat more.

I simply could not believe how much food I got. I almost wished there was someone else there to help me eat.

I am definitely going back for another lunch.

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