 
Oh my Jaaaaaaaaaysis ... Yer man Chuck is a bit of a nutter. He just bought tickets to a concert that's taking place next February. (What's so nutty about that?) In Ireland. (Oh.) One of my all-time favorite bands is a traditional Irish ensemble called Planxty -- Andy Irvine, Dónal Lunny, Christy Moore and Liam O'Flynn. They followed in the footsteps of Irish music pioneers like Ceoltóirí Chúalainn and The Chieftains, with some inspiration from the ballad singing tradition of the Clancys, but with a vibrancy, immediacy and sense of excitement that had never been seen in Irish music before. They, along with the sadly short-lived Bothy Band (1975-1979) were the two Irish supergroups, the Beatles and the Stones of Irish music. Planxty formed in 1972, parted ways around 1975, reformed in 1977 and lasted until about 1982, when Christy and Donal left to form Moving Hearts. Planxty was one of the bands that changed my life. I set the needle to the grooves of the first of their albums I bought, After the Break, and within thirty seconds everything was different. I had never heard anything like this before, and by the time the first track was over I was so excited I was trembling. Twenty years later I still get goosebumps thinking of that moment. That one album, plus the first Bothy Band album, led to hundreds and hundreds of others -- all I had to do was follow the individual careers of each of those bands' members, who they played with, then who they played with, and so on. It took eight backbreakingly heavy boxes just to move the Irish records last January. For many, many years I had been hoping for a Planxty reunion, since I only discovered them just after they had broken up. It didn't seem likely; Andy went off to form Patrick Street, Christy had a humongous solo career (with spates of retirement, hitting the road again, retiring for good this time I swear, then another week of concerts at the Point, then I'm never picking up a guitar again, etc.), Donal became the producing guru of Irish music, with several of his own performing projects over the years, and Liam continued to be the dean of Irish pipers, both in solo performance and recordings and even performing with chamber orchestras. Andy Irvine himself once told me it was "bloody unlikely." Probably at least a dozen or so years ago, I had told my friend Paul in Galway, "Look, if you ever see tickets go on sale for a Planxty or Bothies reunion concert, just get some for me. Money is no object. I'm serious. If they're going to perform again, I'm going to come to Ireland to see them, no matter what." That's how much I love this band. Yesterday afternoon Paul sent me an email, the subject line of which said, "Chuck, looks like we'll see you in February!", accompanied by an attached page from TicketBastard Ireland, annoucing a series of Planxty concerts at Vicar Street in Dublin at the end of January. Those sold out in six hours, and four more dates were added in February. My hands were shaking as I went to the website ("I must have these! They may not sell out!") and tried to order ... and the feckin' thing kept giving me error messages! I rang the customer service number, and they said the computers were down for maintenance until 4am Irish time (8pm my time). At 8:00:01 I went back ... February 18. 8:30pm. Section Block F. Row D. Seats 7 & 8. €49.50 each. (Chuck! Where are you going to get the money to go to Ireland?) Hush! Looks like I'm going to Ireland in February! It's been 11 years since I've been, and I miss the place a lot. I'm either the biggest and most amazingly dedicated fan ever, or else I'm an awful eejit. Paul in fact confirms by email this morning, "You are nuts!" (Fortunately mostly harmless, though.)
Speaking of yer man ... Christy Moore finally has a new website up, after the last one bit the dust for some reason. Worth checking out. Din-dins. I had a few vacation days left this year, so I took a couple of days off to make Thanksgiving prep leisurely and easy, rather than the driving-myself-to-the-point-of-exhaustion experience it is when I don't allow myself enough time. Of the nine dishes I'm preparing for Thursday, three are already done, three will get done tomorrow, then the turkey, gravy and 'taters get done the day of. Very reasonable indeed. In case you're still looking for some ideas for Thursday (and if you're planning to cook and haven't started yet, you're nuts), here's what we're having for dinner on Thursday, a combination of my own traditional dishes plus some great ideas from various cooking magazines. As much as I love deep-frying a turkey, I'm also really in love with roasting, after massaging the hell out of it with butter and making a really lovely gravy (no drippings with fried turkey). Bon Appétit magazine usually has several excellent roast turkey recipes, and I usually go for one which involves rubbing the turkey with a wonderful compound butter of some kind and reserving some of the butter for flavoring the gravy. This year might be the best yet.
Roast Turkey with Prosciutto-Hazelnut Crust. Gotta have some pork in there somewhere ...I can sense the forthcoming food coma already. Have a happy Thanksgiving!
Cocktail of the day. Gary Regan's fortnightly column "The Cocktailian" is particularly apt this time around, as the Professor mixes us a cocktail based on Irish whiskey and named after one of Ireland's greatest writers. Wes and I have been enjoying this one for a while now, having gotten the recipe from an account of one of Gary's Cocktails in the Country seminars. Gary calls for Black Bush, but I think a Jameson's 1780 might be a bit more appropriate. I'll have this one on Thursday to toast my forthcoming trip to Ireland (and to help drown out the little voices that'll be saying, "So, how the hell do ya t'ink you're going to pay for this, ya mad feckin' eejit?")
The James Joyce Cocktail"Mistakes are the portals of discovery," wrote James Joyce. Little did he know how well this can apply to cocktails, as the most popular drink at the wonderful little tiki bar in Silverlake called Tiki Ti is called "Ray's Mistake"...
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Cocktail of the day. Gary and Mardee Regan have done it again; I learn so many wonderful things from these guys. They've dug up a book called The Speakeasies of 1932, in the course of Gary's researches for The Joy of Mixology. Among many other fascinating details about what it was like to drink in a speakeasy during Prohibition, they dug up this little gem of a drink. I have to say I was skeptical about a cocktail consisting almost entirely of vermouth, and we were prepared to make one to try it (so that we could toss it if we didn't like it and not fret about wasting two drinks worth of liquor). Turns out we made another one immediately. It's terrific, light and one of those great examples of cocktail alchemy. I highly recommend this to anyone who wishes to exercise a sophisticated palate but doesn't want to get hammered too fast.
Vermouth CocktailSpicy, complex and easy on the noggin. We likes it!
About a turkey. Or, why your turkey will likely be dry and flavorless this Thursdsay (thanks to the decidedly unnatural techniques of factory farming), and why you need to go to such lengths as brining to make it taste good. Brining will even help a factory-farmed supermarket turkey, although you should look for something better. This year we got a naturally-raised, free-range turkey from Whole Foods, and next year we'll go the whole Slow Food route and get a heritage turkey, from an old, pre-industrial breed that hasn't had all the flavor bred out of it.
An open letter to Mr. Berkeley Breathed. Meant very sincerely..
Dear Mr. Breathed,Welcome back, Opus!
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What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow? What do you mean? African or European swallow? And while we're at it, what ... is the capital of Assyria? Heh heh ... *rub hands together* (Thanks, Steve!)
Fried chicken is health food? Gee! And so is bacon, and fried pickles, and Monte Cristo sandwiches, and deep fat, and steak, and cream pies, and hot fudge, things thought to be unhealthy ... precisely the oppoisite of what we now know to be true! Well, according to Kentucky Fried Chicken, at least.
Fried-chicken giant KFC said Wednesday it is ending an advertising campaign that touted its chicken as healthy and that had prompted a consumer group to complain to federal regulators. [T]he ads informed consumers how its Original Recipe fried chicken could be part of a balanced diet.A bucket. They sit down with a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken. See, this is what I get for having a TiVo and never having to watch commercials again. I miss these comedy gems! I'm sorry, I can't write anymore, because I'm laughing too hysterically. (A bucket!)
Quote of the day. Actually from yesterday, but I had a busy day.
"The question before us is whether, consistent with the Massachusetts Constitution, the commonwealth may deny the protections, benefits and obligations conferred by civil marriage to two individuals of the same sex who wish to marry. We conclude that it may not. The Massachusetts Constitution affirms the dignity and equality of all individuals. It forbids the creation of second-class citizens. In reaching our conclusion we have given full deference to the arguments made by the commonwealth. But it has failed to identify any constitutionally adequate reason for denying civil marriage to same-sex couples."Religious conservatives on the verge of aneurysm, please note the use of the word "civil" in the above excerpt.
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Giant pocketwatches spotted drooped over trees in Griffith Park. Film at eleven. It took me a little longer than usual to get a post up here today; I think that after the inauguration I was suffering from a wee bit of surreality overload. The speech was full of not-unexpected platitudes, and for a minute I was half-expecting something like ...
"The official language of California will now be Swedish!"A few lines from the real speech were encouraging, though:
I've appointed to my Cabinet Republicans, Democrats and Independents -- because I want people to know that my administration is not about politics. It is about saving California.Okay, so let's sit back and see what he does. It remains to be seen if he can be a governor and not a star. I gotta hand it to him, though -- so far he certainly seems to have no problem keeping his campaign promises, but where is that $4 billion in red ink you just added to the budget going to come from now, Arnie? If he can't figure that out ... it might not be long before he wishes he had made another Terminator movie instead.
Chicken George. What a courageous leader. A fearless leader! (Er, no.) Actually, the man currently claiming the presidency of the United States, the commander-in-chief of our armed forces who is currently sending tens of thousands of our fellow citizens into battle, has declined the honor of giving a speech to the combined British Houses of Parliament, cancelling this previously scheduled event because ... because he's afraid he'll be heckled. Apparently he doesn't even have the guts of your average standup comic, people who get heckled every time they go to work. He is perhaps terrified by having seen Parliament's Question Time on CSPAN, where once a week the head of government actually has to answer difficult and serious questions from the members of Parliament. "Gosh, Laura!", I can hear him saying now, "Sure am glad I don't have to do that!" Not only is he afraid of a little bad PR, but it seems he lacks the courage of his convictions.
Where's Woody? I added a header quote to this page a while back; it's from Woody Guthrie's "This Land Is Your Land", and I posted it after having heard "God Bless America" so goddamn many times I felt as if I had been physically beaten by Kate Smith (which can really hurt, as aerial photographs of her might suggest). Woody wrote that song as an angry reaction to Irving Berlin's ditty, and it seemed a far more appropriate expression in song of my feelings about this country. Regular reader Brian suggested that I replace Woody's quote with the Teddy Roosevelt one I've been repeating recently, and I think it's a good idea. As I pointed out before, it's a quote that these days bears repeating (almost daily). I hope to have Woody back in about a year or so.
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Yomigaeru, Iron Chef! Okay, I'm not really an Iron Chef (more like an Aluminum Foil Chef), but it kinda felt like I was on the show, after I came home from work on Wednesday and faced our latest delivery of organic fruits and vegetables, two foul moods in the household thanks to rotten days at work and equally rotten commutes, and the need to unwind, relax and cook for a while. Let's see, new stuff plus leftover prosciutto from the salmon dish we didn't make the other night, what've we got here ... okay, the Aluminum Foil Chef presents four dishes:
Prosciutto sandwiches with Muenster cheese and fresh basil leaves. (You can figure this one out yourself; make sure you use imported Italian Prosciutto di Parma.)All this off the top of my head in one hour. Not bad; I guess I was feeling inspired, although there wasn't a theme ingredient, or even a particular theme ("Um ... it's Ital-Asian! Sorta."). It was more like the Mystery Box assignments we'd get in school -- here's a box of some stuff we're surprising you with; make something good with it. That's actually a lot of fun. Don't worry, though ... I'm not getting a big head. Sakai-san or Chen-san could still wipe up the floor with me.
I'm not addicted! I can quit anytime I want to. Really. Let's see, I've still got "Carnivale," "Jake 2.0," "Smallville" and "ER" on the TiVo from last week ... oh, plus "Will and Grace", two "Iron Chef"s, a bunch of other Food Network stuff, plus at least 15 hours of accumulated movies and stuff. That, and then we'll be recording and archiving the serendipitously-discovered all-night marathon of the short-lived Hollywood satire series "Action!" that's running next weekend, all 10 episodes. But we're not addicted. Really.
Freedom. (Lifted from Patrick): November 11, 2003. In Washington, D.C.:
"The United States has made an unbreakable commitment to the success of freedom in Afghanistan and Iraq." -- George W. BushHowever, in Baghdad:
American soldiers handcuffed and firmly wrapped masking tape around an Iraqi man's mouth as they arrested him on Tuesday for speaking out against occupation troops.In the latter gentleman's case, perhaps freedom was just another word for nothing left to lose ...
He who controls the past, controls the future. (Via Eliot) Remember my post a few days about abou how the DoD is quietly reviving local draft boards? In keeping with Bush administration policy (i.e., deletion of uncomfortable information, à la the whitehouse.gov robots.txt file that disallows searches containing the term "Iraq"), the notice has mysteriously vanished. Fortunately, the folks at the Memory Hole never forget.
Equating the president with the nation. There's an interesting article in Spinsanity that takes a look at the "systematic effort" on the part of Republicans to tar any criticism of Bush, particularly by Democratic presidential candidates, as "political hate speech". How many fucking times do I have to repeat that Teddy Roosevelt quote? Do I need to have T-shirts made up? Better still, do we need to carve it into the foreheads of certain politicians and pundits?
Quote of the day. From the coverage regarding Roy "Above The Law" Moore, who yesterday was quite correctly removed as Chief Justice of the Alabama Supreme Court:
"I can't. Hell doesn't exist."Now that's funny.
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Er, no. I know I have an addiction, and I often don't deal with it very well. That addiction is to French fries, and I love them (only fresh, hot and crisp, though; if they're reheated or limp or greasy I'll send 'em back). As much as I love fries, though ... this is just wrong. It's yet more vile, processed, poisonous gunk that's part of the reason why this country is suffering from a profound obesity epidemic. Don't miss the section in the first article that mentions how they're going to try to put this stuff into school lunch programs. Parents, you really need to start paying more attention to what schools are feeding to your kids, unless you want obese, unhealthy ones.
Toy of the day. In addition to his collection of church signs (including my favorite, a duplicate of one I saw in New Orleans that said "STOP, DROP AND ROLL DOESN'T WORK IN HELL"), Ryland Sanders also has a fun little tool to make your very own church sign. Here's one I'd like to see:
A cocktail named after a movie about dancing?! Truly for the hellbound only. And the drink is pink, which is one of the colors of ... Sa-TAN!
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The ultimate answer to the ultimate question of Life, the Universe and Everything. That's me. Today I am 42. It was very nice of them to design the Earth-sized and -shaped computer Deep Thought and have it work on me for billions of years. I only wish I knew what the question was.
Cocktail of the day. Given the significance of today's birthday, there really can be only one drink with which I can celebrate. Robb was thoughtful enough in another comments thread to suggest Sazeracs -- a splendid suggestion, no doubt -- but today only this will do. The best drink in existence is the Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster. The effect of drinking one of these is rather like having your brains smashed out with a slice of lemon, wrapped around a large gold brick. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy will tell you on which planets the best ones are brewed, how much you can expect to pay for one, and which voluntary organizations exist to help you recover afterwards. Fortunately, the Guide also tells you how you can make one yourself. (And, of course, it's gin-based.)
Pan-Galactic Gargle BlasterIf my brains are bashed out, I'll just get a second head.
Move over, fried turkeys. Deep-frying turkeys and chickens is about to be so last year. The newest fabulous method of cooking is now upon us, and is available to you ... as long as you have an active volcano in your back yard.
Cocktail of the day, part deux. Once again, it's CocktailDB to the rescue. Apparently Wes was impressed enough with my results from it last night that he consulted our cocktail oracle again tonight, this time looking for interesting-looking cocktails with one particular ingredient in mind. He chose this one, which fooled me almost entirely. I guessed wrong as to the base spirit, although I guessed the modifiers correctly. It's another one of those cases of cocktail alchemy where the whole is completely different from the sum of its parts.
Move Over Cocktail [ Link to today's entries ]
Say goodbye to your day. Because cat bowling is much more fun than working. (It's pathetic; I suck just as much at cat bowling as I do at regular bowling.)
Cocktail of the day. I love CocktailDB. This massive, years-in-the-making collaborative project between Martin Doudoroff and Ted "Dr. Cocktail" Haigh, still a work-in-progress, contains a database of over 4,700 authenticated cocktail recipes (from trusted published sources). When I'm in the mood for a particular spirit combined with a particular ingredient but can't think of a recipe offhand, I'll go to CocktailDB, input the ingredients and it'll give me a list of cocktails featuring those ingredients. (This is like Webtender, you say; not so. The main difference is that Cocktail DB doesn't contain 10,000 vile drinks thought up by college frat boys and you won't get those in your search results.) We had a wonderful day on Saturday -- some friends came over and brought fixins for goi cuon, Vietnamese spring rolls, and I made Shrimp Creole, and we had lots of cocktails. On Sunday evening we were thinking of what we might want to have before dinner, and Wes pointed out that so far this weekend we'd had whiskey-, vodka- and gin-based cocktails. I thought, time for some rum. I was also keen to play with the bottle of Marie Brizard Apry (a fine apricot brandy, not an apricot-flavored brandy), so I input "rum" and "apricot brandy" into Cocktail DB ... and came up with this one. The database is still in its "black and white" version, so there was no publication attribution and I don't know this drink's source, but I'll find out. It's light and quite lovely.
CulrossI've seen some drier variations that look worth trying too: try 2 ounces rum, 1/2 ounce each of Apry and Lillet, and 1/4 ounce lemon juice. I'm guessing this version might be even better.
Meat! No, this is not a food-related post, it's a music-related one. My most favoritest honky-tonk country band in the whole wide world, Red Meat, were down from the Bay Area for one of their twice-yearly visits to southern California, and they were as fantastic as ever. They played at the beloved Cinema Bar in Culver City, a tiny venue which'll hold a few dozen people at the very most, and is a fabulous place to see a band like this. I ended up staying for all three sets, and was lucky enough to hear them play some songs that had never been performed in public before (woohoo, new album soon!). The amazing thing about Red Meat is that they have absolutely perfect country music chops, I mean perfect; why country radio isn't going nuts over these guys is perhaps the sole testament necessary as to how stupid and useless commercial country radio is these days. They write great new songs, play great covers and have tremendous knowledge and respect for the brilliant country music artists that came before them. But ... they don't take themselves too seriously. In fact, not at all -- songs about getting in touch with your "inner redneck," about dating "the girl with the biggest hair and the longest nails" ("And I kinda like the way her perfume smails!"), and about having your girlfriend's name Lolita tattooed on your arm (and after getting dumped, having to find another girlfriend named Lolita). Their songs are a lot of fun, but they're also part of that rare breed of songs that after not much time at all become like old friends.
Sharing a story. From Ted Leo, leader of one of my favorite bands (Ted Leo and the Pharmacists), tells a lovely story from his web site (thanks, Barry!):
Almost ten years ago, my old band, Chisel, was on our first full US tour. Nothing west of Chicago was particularly well attended, but that never really gets me down -- I try to keep hopes up but expectations low.Since Elliott Smith died by his own hand recently, I've heard a lot more about him and heart lots more of his music, music that I'm now sorry I didn't get to know better before. I guess it's never too late ...
The thin line between satire and reality. Via Tom Tomorrow:
Satire, last month; reality, today: "For example, on Feb. 20, a month before the invasion, Rumsfeld fielded a question about whether Americans would be greeted as liberators if they invaded Iraq.Democratic presidential hopefuls, when it gets down to one of you (Dean, I hope), make sure you have lots of facts like these at your fingertips, to show this country what the present administration is really made of (i.e., liars and brigands).
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Happy birthday, Mike! Wow, you're 45. I should get you a pile of vinyl singles for your present. Dean Shouldn't Have Apologized. An opinion by Ted Rall:
Gov. Howard Dean will be, with a little luck, the next president of the United States. I like him, but he shouldn't have apologized or his Confederate flag remark.Just once I'd like to hear a candidate (say, Dean) respond to criticisms by saying something like the above. I'm with ya, Governor, but let's get with the program!
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A minor milestone. Last night's edition of "Down Home" was programmed and played down entirely from my iPod. It was pretty nifty, although second-best to playing down from iTunes itself; if you make a mistake when you're inputting your "On The Go" playlist into the iPod, you have to start over (which I had to do three times). One day, when I have a notebook with a big enough hard drive to fit my entire MP3 collection (so I don't have to haul my external hard drive around, which is a pain), I'll be able to easily program radio shows directly from iTunes. Nifty! In other KCSN-related news, I just heard that we finally got a nice, fat grant from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, and that our new Westside transmitter is speeding forth through nothing but green lights. Here's hoping that we've got another half-million potential listeners (not to mention members) throughout Santa Monica, West L.A., West Hollywood, Hollywood, Silverlake and beyond, maybe come Christmastime. That'd be a mighty nice present for a station that truly deserves it. Onward!
On, and speaking of public radio ... You've probably heard by now that the Joan Kroc, the late widow of McDonald's gazillionaire founder Ray Kroc, has left $200 million to National Public Radio in her will, "the largest monetary gift ever received by an American cultural institution" and just one among many multi-million dollar bequests so arts and educational institutions nationwide. As a member of the public radio community for the last 15+ years ... thank you, Mrs. Kroc! This will be an enormous help in many ways: perhaps restoring NPR arts and cultural programming that had to be cut for budgetary reasons, plus a possible expansion of their news coverage and an income-generating endowment fund. It's nice to know that there are some billionaires out there who aren't evil.
The Cocktailian. Today in Gary Regan's fortnightly column, the Professor and Doc sample a 1930 classic called the Blood and Sand, one I have yet to try and for which I can break out my bottle of Cherry Heering. Yumm.
Blood and Sand CocktailDon't miss Gary and Mardee's latest issue of the Ardent Spirits newsletter, too.
Part of a nutritious breakfast. The folks over by Something Awful have had a very fruitful Photoshop Friday that could revolutionize this nation's concept of what to eat for breakfast. (Thanks, Sean!) I have to say, the prospect of starting my day with a big bowl of Habanero Hoops starts me going like Pavlov's dog, but I could probably do without Hot Dog Cereal or any product from Cloaca Mills. Still, some of these products, even the ones on page two, aren't that much worse than the "Mud and Worms" cereal I saw at the grocery the other day. (Heads up. Page three is not necessarily safe for work, and don't be eating or drinking anything when you click the link to go to page two, or it'll end up all over your monitor. I'm only sayin'.)
I've got my fingers in my ears! La la la la la la la la! The White House has announced that, due to its irritation with regards to all those pesky questions that the Democrats are asking ... they will no longer answer questions from Democratic lawmakers. That's Democracy with a capital "D", baby! (I can't wait until these bastards are out of office.)
Horseshit. (Via MeFi) Last May, Robert Scheer of the Los Angeles Times was the first American journalist to report that the whole Pvt. Jessica Lynch rescue story as being told by the military and the government was, basically, a wheelbarrow full of fertilizer. Bill "SHUT UP!" O'Reilly of Fox "News" called him "anti-American" and a "hater of the USA." The Pentagon called him a liar, saying that "Scheer's claims are outrageous, patently false and unsupported by the facts." Scheer, in his rebuttal, described the "expected -- and received -- hysterical belch of outrage from the right-wing media, led by Rupert Murdoch's Fox empire, which has already committed a huge book advance to the telling of this mythic tale," and labeled the Pentagon's manipulation of a gullible media as "a grave disservice." He took an incredible amount of flak for a story that had already been widely reported in the international media. Well, guess what. Jessica confirms Scheer's initial reportage.
She said [in an interview with ABC's Diane Sawyer] she was grateful to the American special forces team which rescued her but, asked whether the Pentagon's subsequent portrayal of her rescue bothered her, she said: "Yes, it does. They used me as a way to symbolise all this stuff. It's wrong."Quel surprise. But we're expected to believe anything these people say, aren't we? Meanwhile, Spec. Shoshana Johnson, who was shot through both legs and held as a POW by the Iraqis for 22 days, is receiving a 30% disability benefit for her injuries, while former Pvt. Lynch receives 80%, a difference of about $600 - 700 per month. Wonder why? That doesn't seem fair, does it? The Army claims that the benefits are based solely on medical records, but Pvt. Lynch was in an accident in which her vehicle overturned, while Spec. Johnson was shot through both legs. How does that work out to 80% pay versus 30% pay? What's the story? They were both critically injured while fighting BushCo's war, so why aren't they both being taken care of? When does Shoshana get her book and movie deals? What, does a heavy-set woman of color not make as good of a propaganda and ratings picture?
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Moltissimo Mario. (Before you complain, please remember, realmente non parlo italiano.) While we're in the middle of our Mario Batali lovefest, I see that he's currently the featured chef on Epicurious, where he talks about a typical Mario day, how to cook at home like he cooks at Babbo, and what he considers to be pantry essentials (I was smugly pleased that we had most of them in our pantry). You'll also find simple but wonderful recipes from some of his cookbooks, including Spaghetti with Sweet 100 Tomatoes (one of our favorite pasta dishes; I love how those hot little tomatoes just pop in your mouth), Pork Chops Milanese (which would make a fantastic pannéed pork poor boy), classic Osso Buco (braised veal shank, with an evolved gremolata that also includes horseradish and pine nuts), a suggested Christmas dinner menu and more. He does make one odd statement in the article, regarding the lack of butter in his pantry essentials: "Butter is strictly for unsophisticated palates. Use olive oil instead." While I love substituting olive oil for butter in many dishes (try it on corn or in mashed potatoes), butter is fabulous ... and not four days ago I cooked an asparagus alla Milanese dish right from Mario's cookbook, featuring asparagus gently blanched and tossed in brown butter, which I know he likes. Strange ...
Trendy cocktails are black these days, black apparently being the new blue in the cocktail world. This is primarily due to to the relatively recent introduction of Blavod vodka, a product that looks almost black in the bottle due to the addition of black catechu, an herbal extract (that was also used in the century-old-and-lost Boker's Bitters). I've been avoiding this product, as it seems like a gimmick, but apparently it's been getting good reviews. The catechu does give it a "vaguely herbal-medicinal" finish, which already makes it more interesting than regular tasteless vodka, and it seems to mix well, at least from the Times' test kitchen results. Still, for five years they couldn't give this stuff away, and now it's flying off the shelves. Fad, or lasting addition to the spirit world? We'll see ...
The Panther didn't eat me, fortunately. I upgraded to the new OS X 10.3 the other day and everything went swimmingly, unlike the many people who lost all the data on their hard drives. Apparently there's a big bug in OS X 10.3 Panther, which exploits an apparent flaw in a bridge device and firmware that's popular with drive manufacturers, causing one to permanently lose all data on an attached FW800 FireWire hard drive. Mine wasn't attached dring the upgrade, and is a FW400 drive anyway, so everything's intact (whew). Still, um ... not good, Apple. I hope none of y'all lost anything. That said, so far I love the new OS, which is demonstrably faster than 10.2, and will be faster still once I finally get more memory for my iBook. As for all the myriad new features, well ... as Ash said in Alien, "we're still collating."
Quote of the day. From Robert L. Wolke, writing in the Food Section of the Washington Post:
...the label on White Wave Silk Chocolate Soymilk says it contains "Naturally Milled Organic Evaporated Cane Juice." Whom are they trying to fool? When one evaporates cane juice, one gets something called sugar. Doesn't the FDA have a department of deceptive euphemisms? On the other hand, I'm so glad the sugar cane is naturally milled. Those supernatural sugar mills can be so scary.That would be a bunch of wizards lollygagging around, waving their wants to make the sugar mill itself. Not so scary, just very Harry Potterish. (Soymilk, bleucchh.)
Maybe I should paint my toenails purple. Well, nine of them, at least. That way they'd match the one (the piggy that stayed home, on my left foot) that I rolled over with the garbage can yesterday. Who knew that two discarded pumpkins would be so heavy? (Actually, looking at the receipt from the grocery, those pumpkins weighed in at nearly 45 pounds.) Eep.
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Cocktail of the Day. This was Wes' pick last night, and oddly enough it's one we'd never had before, although I've seen it in print and heard other folks talk about it a number of times. Dr. Cocktail sings its praises, and that's good enough for me. It's another of those amazing bits of cocktailian alchemy that makes you taste things that aren't even there (my first guess was that this drink had rum in it). In keeping with its name, it's a concoction that might just help you out a bit ... the morning after the night before.
Corpse Reviver No. 2As I write this, the night before the morning after, my corpse is feeling rather revived indeed.
Quote of the day. This time I won't identify the speaker. I'm keen to have you guess. (Thanks, Atrios!)
Well, just as it's important, I think, for a president to know when to commit U.S. forces to combat, it's also important to know when not to commit U.S. forces to combat. I think for us to get American military personnel involved in a civil war inside Iraq would literally be a quagmire. Once we got to Baghdad, what would we do? Who would we put in power? What kind of government would we have? Would it be a Sunni government, a Shi'a government, a Kurdish government? Would it be secular, along the lines of the Ba'ath Party? Would be fundamentalist Islamic? I do not think the United States wants to have U.S. military forces accept casualties and accept the responsibility of trying to govern Iraq. I think it makes no sense at all.Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?
The way to sure-fire popularity. The folks at the Pentagon are quietly oiling up the squeaky wheels of the draft machine (Salon premium article, sorry; you have to watch a commercial to read the whole thing):
The community draft boards that became notorious for sending reluctant young men off to Vietnam have languished sinced the early 1970s, their membership ebbing and their purpose all but lost when the draft was ended. But a few weeks ago, on an obscure federal Web site devoted to the war on terrorism, the Bush administration quietly began a public campaign to bring the draft boards back to life.I predict this will never happen unless Bush manages to get himself "re-elected" (by any means necessary), as he wouldn't dare do it before November 2004. The very idea of a draft to support this war-and-occupation-on-false-pretenses is beyond repugnant; however, as August amusingly pointed out, "speaking from experience with some of them at NYU, the most likely side benefit of a draft would be the College Republican Party dissolving overnight."
[ Link to today's entries ]
The joy of cooking. It's not that I don't cook at all anymore; I do, as much as I can. Thing is, weekday evenings get busy, my commute is getting worse, and sometimes when I get home at 7:30pm or later I'm tired; cooking dinner isn't exactly the first thing on my mind. I might even have the wacky idea to eat out or get delivery, so there's actually some time in the evening to read or write or watch a DVD or some TV. Sometimes, though, it's really great to have the opportunity to have some friends over and do a nice five- or six-course blowout, one that takes three or four hours or more to get through, interspersed with wine and cocktails and relaxing conversation. It's so nice, so fun, so civilized. It's the kind of evening where you want to make sure your dishes can be primarily prepared in advance, so as to minimize your à la minute cooking and give you more time to socialize. A couple of glasses of Coppola Bianco and a couple of Negronis kicked things off well, as did the first course, which is one Wes made for me a week or so ago -- I arrived home and was immediately informed that I was banished from the kitchen, as he was making something. This was rather surprising, as he doesn't cook, but ten minutes of maddening aromas later he emerged with something that just about makes your eyes roll up in your head. The boy can cook after all.
Bacon-Wrapped DatesI had been doing my shopping at Bristol Farms on Saturday, because I like their meat counter and because I'm trying to do my part to avoid crossing picket lines during the grocery strike. While there a guy was putting Comice pears out on display; I stopped to look at them for just a second and he whipped out a knife, seized a pear, cut off a big chunk of it and offered it to me to taste. Like butter, so soft and so sweet and nearly perfect. I bought a few, and they became the criminally easy second dish:
Prosciutto and PearsThe asparagus looked beautiful at Bristol Farms too; I was hoping to get some but was expecting the typical late-season stuff that's as big around as your thumb. These were pencil-thin, with a great flavor and nice long tips. I got this recipe from Mario Batali, and it's a favorite early-summer antipasto around Milan (who cares of it's early fall and we're in Eagle Rock?):
Asparagus, Milanese-styleThis was really, really good. It'd be great for breakfast, too. For the primo, we had an old favorite pasta dish of mine that I hadn't made for a while. It's really easy, has a great, intense flavor and boy, do I love good homemade meatballs.
Spaghetti with Pancetta, Peas and MeatballsWe got lazy for dessert -- a small chocolate mousse cake from one of our favorite neighborhood joints, The Eagle Rock Italian Bakery and Deli (where we get our prosciutto, pancetta, olives, etc. as well). Who says dessert has to be from scratch too?
October Looka! entries have been permanently archived.
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