Now that “a bicycle” and “my feet” are my primary modes of transportation these days, aside from the kindness of strangers, the “uphill both ways” cliche is making a lot more sense. Serves me right for living in one of the hilliest parts of Kansas, a state so flat you can pour pancake batter on the ground in summer and scrape up perfect discs. The northeastern region is not a representative sample.
Biking has gotten marginally easier, in that I don’t immediately brake and hop off if there is a car present within a one-mile radius. Still, I mused upon the uphill-ness of Lawrence this morning, returning from running errands, and decided to walk the thing up the hill outside of my apartment. Which, for no deducible reason, caused me to fall over in the middle of the road with the bike on top of me, doing little damage this time except possibly to my dignity (Hi early-bird neighbors! Yup, that was me!) The terminally clumsy really should not be allowed to operate bicycles, or for that matter, any contraptions involving cogs and spokes. In fact, I’m a little wary of looking at a wheel of brie funny, lest I set off the Apocalypse.
The boy also has strained relationships with gravity: the poor thing fell and hit his head on his bedframe, sober as a Mennonite goose, requiring stitches (and, I must note, was looney enough to actually ride his bike to the damn hospital; luckily, he is a better cyclist!). If we ever breed, the offspring will either accidentally kill us all, or be the best star athletes the world has ever seen. Hopefully, the latter, so the parents can have free chauffeurs.
My roomie and I were walking down Mass St. yesterday, when we noticed a neon “Open” sign outside the place where the Solidarity Library used to be, at the back of the dance studio. “By golly, that appears to be a restaurant,” I said, and we approached to investigate. A Korean restaurant, in Lawrence! I’d just been lamenting the fact that there isn’t any good Korean food, and a dearth of good non-Thai Asian food to be had in our town. I’d already eaten lunch, so I planned to return for dinner. My gastronomically wimpy roommate decided to stay in for dinner, so I had to round up another adventurous soul for culinary roulette: this small, peculiar place could either be amazing or destroy our intestines, no middle ground likely.
The opening of this little hideout took place in relative obscurity, probably due to what perhaps is the un-catchiest name in restauranteer history: “Campus hideaway Roll Cafe.” I’d stared at the sign for a few minutes trying to figure out whether the name was simply “Roll Cafe,” and the “Campus hideaway” bit a mere descriptor, but judging from the sign itself, I doubt that. The only other indication that there may be food served in the vicinity is the set of quaint cafe-style table and chairs outside. Both chairs and table are covered in checkered picnic tablecloth. Oh, and the large yellow menu displaying their offerings.
The menu is ordinary enough, cheap Korean fare, with a bit of sushi (gulp) thrown in, except for the side dishes. Spinach fruit salad? The other side available is a pan-fried beef patty, which you can add to your meal for a mere 99 cents (I guess this shouldn’t be that surprising, given that Kim Jong Il invented the hamburger 
)The desserts aren’t typical Korean fare either: finish off your bibim bap with vanilla ice cream, sprinkled with Oreo crumbles. Is this supposed to be a Korean Dairy Queen or what?
The interior is just as charming and perplexing as the outside. The wait and kitchen staff wear aprons and bonnets of the same red checkered print, which make them look like willowy Korean Sun-maid Raisin Girls. The decor is very Country Crock, with grandmotherly china plates and pots hanging on the walls. It’s clean, and very importantly, packed with Asian customers - a strong indicator of the quality of an Asian restaurant, if a smidge race-minded.
The dishes are pretty cheap, even cheaper than my mainstay of Pochi / Indo / whatever it is they are calling themselves these days. My friend and I both ordered the bibim bap, and we both found it excellent. Not sure if I want to try the sushi, but since I’ve eaten TryYaki and survived, it’s probably just fine. Highly recommended, and next time, maybe I’ll dare to get that beef patty on the side for kicks 