How do I get myself into these things?
I love cooking. I enjoy messing around in the kitchen, dabbling with ingredients, experimenting with flavors and dumping an ass-load of salt on everything. None of that stuff means that I’m a good cook, yet people keep making that mistake. Jeffery Dahmer was a bit of a culinary enthusiast himself, but he had a hard time filling seats during his dinner parties.
Anyway, other than a few years of short order cook experience, I was never really trained in the culinary arts. I just watch hella Food Network. Man, you can pick up a lot of kitchen science just watching Alton Brown do his thing. It seems watching tv is all it takes. I guess that means if I watch enough kung fu movies I’ll learn Cantonese and the Five Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique.
Watching television also introduced me to the wonderful Japanese program “Iron Chef,” which I’ve talked about in an earlier entry. This show inspired me and my friends to try our own Iron Chef competition, two years ago, which has been chronicled in an older Eighty-Four Glyde, (don’t expect to get a link to that. Find it your damn self! It’s got pictures!) wherein I completely trounced my opponent in “Battle Potato.”
The downside of this is that after my victory, the myth of my being a good cook became more concrete. Plus, people felt the need to challenge me (half-heartedly, full of bravado, but lacking any real substance) to cooking competitions all the time.
Fools jump up to get beat down. Sigh.
A few weekends ago, my compadres and I were finally able to coordinate our ever-expanding circle of influence to make another Iron Chef battle happen again. This time, my friend Diddi decided to challenge me in the kitchen. He wrote his own death warrant!*
For those too lazy to read about my previous battle, are who aren’t familiar with the rules, let me give a quick rundown of how our Iron Chef works:
1. There are two competitors and three judges.
2. Each competitor is allowed to cook in their own kitchen. They have two hours in which to prepare at least three dishes utilizing a secret ingredient.
3. One judge will show up at each contestant’s kitchen at an arranged time and reveal the secret ingredient. The judge will spend the two hours making sure the competitors follow cooking rules.
4. The competitors are not allowed to leave the kitchen to purchase ingredients. They have to make due with what they already own. However, they are allowed to look up recipes online, (because really, none of us are really chefs. We don’t have rolodexes of recipes in our brains).
5. At the end of the two-hour cooking time. Both contestants and both judges have an hour to get to the third judge’s kitchen, (which is our designated “Kitchen Stadium”) with their dishes ready for presentation.
6. All dishes are judged based on three criteria: taste, presentation and use of the ingredient. Each judge can award up to 100 points for all three categories.
Once the tasting is over, the judges retire to another room to…judge. Meanwhile, the nervous-as-shit competitors and whomever else came to see the show, get to hang out and enjoy food and good drink.
***
The knock on my door came a few minutes before 4 p.m., the official starting time. I let the judge in and began to gather all the cook books in my kitchen, in anticipation of the secret ingredient. At 4:02, the judge revealed a big, heavy bag which contained the ingredient. I figured I was ready for most things. I had themes and dishes in my mind based on if it was an herb, a veggie, a starch, a meat, a liquid or whatever else it could be. Turns out I wasn’t as prepared as I thought.
Imagine my surprise when the judge (my boy Big Frizzle, as he likes to call himself) tipped over the bag and dumped many pounds of apples on my floor. Apples! Red apples! Green apples! And hybrid, interracial apples whose parents had jungle fever! My mind reeled. I had no idea what the eff to do with apples. It’s an autumn ingredient during the burgeoning days of spring. The judges were crazy!
I quickly looked through my cookbooks and online, I wrote a hasty menu and proceeded to get to work in the kitchen. Drenched in sweat and paprika, the two hours sped by in a blur. The time was only marked by my occasional break with a glass of apple brandy, (generously donated by the judge, who had a drink and immediately spent the two hours sleeping it off on my couch).
You know what the hardest part of cooking is? It’s not the taste, it’s not how well you follow the ingredient, it’s making sure everything is done in time and that everything is as hot or as cold as it’s supposed to be. In a restaurant, this isn’t a problem because there’s a whole mess of (maybe legal) Mexicans in the kitchen working as a team. One guy working alone has a lot more pots to stir. Literally.
At the end of the allotted time I had created a simple apple and spinach salad, sliders on sourdough with apple and onion topping and an apple and cinnamon pork roast with a sweet apple syrup and garlic and apple mashed potatoes on the side. Thus prepared, I wrapped everything up and made my way to the third judge’s apartment for the tasting.
My opponent was a little late, but still managed to show up without getting points taken away. He walked in with dishes and crock pots and food and my heart sank a little with the realization that I had underestimated Diddi and his culinary skills. He brought his A game, (well, maybe his B, B+ game. But it was still good!)
We heated our dishes and presented them for tasting. Then, we sat and waited, while our fates were decided. Nerves were wracked! Knuckles were white! Nails were bitten! Sweat was flopped! Edges of seats were…sat on.
Somewhere in this favored land, the sun is shinning bright.
The band is playing somewhere. And somewhere hearts are light.
Somewhere men are laughing and somewhere children aren’t deaf.
But there is no joy for Diddi – Josh is still the Iron Chef!**
*not exactly sure what it means, but they use that line in movies all the time and I decided to try it out.
**with apologies to Ernest Lawrence Thayer
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Fighting Boredom, one day at a time
As a member of the Great Unemployed, life can get boring from time to time. If I don’t add zest to the humdrum of everyday life, I’ll end up sitting on the couch, my appendages atrophied from lack of use (except for my left hand, of course*). So I try to be as active as a lazy, good-for-nothing can be. You won’t see me going on power walks around the neighborhood or anything, but if you’re lucky, you might catch me hoofing it over to the KFC across the street, (because it’s a well-known fact that a 75-yard walk cancels out calorie-laden, grease-soaked fast “food”).
On Thursdays I head to downtown D.C. to spend a few hours taking in the historic culture of one of our fine local museums. Unfortunately, if I spend too much time at the museums I tend to run into yapping American tourists, screeching school field trips and for some reason, Mennonites. Sadly, the myriad museum-goers spark a conflagration in my soul which causes me to rush home to watch Falling Down, lest I wig out in public and am brought down my a phalanx of police officers.
Sometimes I come up with fun activities for me to do around the apartment, like napping up to three times a day, doing the dishes, or napping on the dishes, (it’s great for the lower lumbar region).
Considering how many other pathetic, jobless wretches are out there these days, I thought that it’d be a good idea to share a list of ideas of things people can do during the workday when everybody is busy being productive and bringing home paychecks, (the suckers!). This list has all types of fun and time-wasting activities to get you through the drudgery of the day-to-day. Try some out, or make up your own!
1. Rearrange the furniture in your abode so that everything is against one wall. If you live with one or more people who work, then subtlety shift everything 25 degrees to the right instead.
2. Spend the whole day without using the letter E.
3. Go to grocery stores and do all of your shopping from other people’s carts when they’re not paying attention. Abandon your shopping cart anywhere and walk out.
4. Whenever anybody asks you a question smile and just nod, or shake your head. Even if it isn’t a yes/no question.
5. Write the script for the perfect 80s music video. Be sure to include bad hairstyles, hideous clothes and fog machines.
6. Pick a random person from the internet and stalk them. But only for 25 minutes. Pick a new person each hour.
7. Go on Craigslist and put up an ad for a DeLorian that only goes 87 mph.
8. Walk backwards the entire day.
9. Splice together the genes of a squirrel, a roach and a pigeon, creating an unholy fusion of the most annoying urban pest the world has ever seen!
10. Perform your own radio show through the vents of your apartment building. Use sound effects.
11. Call the Butterball Turkey Hotline and tell them that you’re lonely. (Or, call them and tell them that you either got an appendage stuck in the turkey, or the turkey stuck in an orifice, whichever is more funny.)
12. Make a Youtube video showing the world your Sasha Fierce lip-syncing/dance moves.
13. Go to MacDonalds and stand in line. Whenever they ask for your order, tell them you’ve never heard of this restaurant and you’re still studying the menu. Make a big deal of calling somebody to tell them of the wonderful discovery you’ve made.
14. Create a treasure map to a hidden stash of Lucky Charms, (or, Count Chocula, if you’re so inclined.)
15. Make up your own language, speak only in that language for a whole day. Be sure to go out in public.
16. Go fishing in your bathtub.
17. Write an unfunny blog.
*And not for the reason you’re thinking either! It’s my remote hand!)
On Thursdays I head to downtown D.C. to spend a few hours taking in the historic culture of one of our fine local museums. Unfortunately, if I spend too much time at the museums I tend to run into yapping American tourists, screeching school field trips and for some reason, Mennonites. Sadly, the myriad museum-goers spark a conflagration in my soul which causes me to rush home to watch Falling Down, lest I wig out in public and am brought down my a phalanx of police officers.
Sometimes I come up with fun activities for me to do around the apartment, like napping up to three times a day, doing the dishes, or napping on the dishes, (it’s great for the lower lumbar region).
Considering how many other pathetic, jobless wretches are out there these days, I thought that it’d be a good idea to share a list of ideas of things people can do during the workday when everybody is busy being productive and bringing home paychecks, (the suckers!). This list has all types of fun and time-wasting activities to get you through the drudgery of the day-to-day. Try some out, or make up your own!
1. Rearrange the furniture in your abode so that everything is against one wall. If you live with one or more people who work, then subtlety shift everything 25 degrees to the right instead.
2. Spend the whole day without using the letter E.
3. Go to grocery stores and do all of your shopping from other people’s carts when they’re not paying attention. Abandon your shopping cart anywhere and walk out.
4. Whenever anybody asks you a question smile and just nod, or shake your head. Even if it isn’t a yes/no question.
5. Write the script for the perfect 80s music video. Be sure to include bad hairstyles, hideous clothes and fog machines.
6. Pick a random person from the internet and stalk them. But only for 25 minutes. Pick a new person each hour.
7. Go on Craigslist and put up an ad for a DeLorian that only goes 87 mph.
8. Walk backwards the entire day.
9. Splice together the genes of a squirrel, a roach and a pigeon, creating an unholy fusion of the most annoying urban pest the world has ever seen!
10. Perform your own radio show through the vents of your apartment building. Use sound effects.
11. Call the Butterball Turkey Hotline and tell them that you’re lonely. (Or, call them and tell them that you either got an appendage stuck in the turkey, or the turkey stuck in an orifice, whichever is more funny.)
12. Make a Youtube video showing the world your Sasha Fierce lip-syncing/dance moves.
13. Go to MacDonalds and stand in line. Whenever they ask for your order, tell them you’ve never heard of this restaurant and you’re still studying the menu. Make a big deal of calling somebody to tell them of the wonderful discovery you’ve made.
14. Create a treasure map to a hidden stash of Lucky Charms, (or, Count Chocula, if you’re so inclined.)
15. Make up your own language, speak only in that language for a whole day. Be sure to go out in public.
16. Go fishing in your bathtub.
17. Write an unfunny blog.
*And not for the reason you’re thinking either! It’s my remote hand!)
Friday, April 10, 2009
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Drivers vs Walkers: Give me a car accident any day!
So I’ve been hanging out at a lot of airports recently, you know, spreading the Hare Krishna philosophy* and keeping an eye out for people on airline jihads, and I’ve noticed something: people are inconsiderate jerks.
It was while I was walking, (with a sense of purpose and speed, I might add) that I realized that people get away with all types of stuff that if they tried to do while driving, they’d cause horrendous multi-car pile ups.
For example, in a car people are supposed to keep their eyes on the road in front of them. I say “supposed to” because, as we all know, people love to not pay attention to what’s going on in front of them, which results in bodies being launched through windshields and being decapitated by steering wheels. Terrible to experience, fun to watch, (at least I can only assume its fun to watch, the way cars always slow down to ghoulishly study the scene of car accidents, no matter how gruesome.)
But when walking, people seem to take a perverted pride in purposely not looking in front of them as they amble about. They’ll go so far as to turn their heads 230 degrees to study some random ass thing while walking straight into a wall, column or other jerkhole who isn’t paying attention to where he’s walking. Honestly, I’m always surprised at how often I see people bumping into stationary objects or other brain-dead people simply because they couldn’t be bothered to stop walking (and move to the side) while checking out something that caught their interest.
And the thing that always leaves me flabbergasted in these situations is that when somebody who isn’t paying attention while walking bumps into me, they then have the gall to give me a look like I’m the tard! Their eyes narrow and focus on my face, like they’re saying: “I’m just a random American dumbass not watching where I’m watching. You were paying attention, so what’s your excuse for letting me bump into you, jerk?!” I can only shake my head, walk away and make plans to give their names to Jigsaw so he can teach them some manners.
Another thing that people do while walking that they wouldn’t dream of doing while driving, is wandering around. In a car people have to stay inside the lines of their lane. It helps the flow of traffic and makes everything nice and organized. When people walk they mosey and weave around like they’re stinking drunk and one of their legs is shorter than the other and they can’t help but cut you off while not even acknowledging your existence. Then I end up stepping on my own feet trying to avoid these dick weeds.
It gets even worse when you factor in the fact that there’s no speed limits on sidewalks and in airports. I’m not talking about limiting how fast people walk, I’m talking about limits on how ssssllllooowwwwlllyyy they walk. It seems like the slowest people always love to walk in the middle of everything. They saunter down hallways and corridors without a care in the world, taking time to stop and smell the nonexistent flowers and annoy the living shit out of me!
Then, (and this is the best part) the ultimate is people who literally just stop walking. Could you imagine driving on a major highway when all of a sudden the car in front of you hits the breaks for no good reason? It’d be mayhem! And yet, people have no trouble with walking somewhere, then instantly stopping the minute they get a phone call or want to readjust their scarves in the 100-degree heat. I wouldn’t mind it if they moved out of the way and let people carry on about their business, but they don’t! They stay rooted to the spot as if they just stepped on a landmine. Meanwhile everybody else with the temerity to be in the same vicinity trying to get from point A to point B has to navigate around these living statues.
In this country we’re so used to people being inconsiderate bastards that people rarely even notice this kind of stuff anymore. Which is kind of a shame. We’re a land full of inconsiderate people who have nary a thought in their fad-obsessed minds for their fellow human beings.
Maybe people are nicer at train stations…
*Are those wack-a-doos still around anymore or is that joke really dated?
It was while I was walking, (with a sense of purpose and speed, I might add) that I realized that people get away with all types of stuff that if they tried to do while driving, they’d cause horrendous multi-car pile ups.
For example, in a car people are supposed to keep their eyes on the road in front of them. I say “supposed to” because, as we all know, people love to not pay attention to what’s going on in front of them, which results in bodies being launched through windshields and being decapitated by steering wheels. Terrible to experience, fun to watch, (at least I can only assume its fun to watch, the way cars always slow down to ghoulishly study the scene of car accidents, no matter how gruesome.)
But when walking, people seem to take a perverted pride in purposely not looking in front of them as they amble about. They’ll go so far as to turn their heads 230 degrees to study some random ass thing while walking straight into a wall, column or other jerkhole who isn’t paying attention to where he’s walking. Honestly, I’m always surprised at how often I see people bumping into stationary objects or other brain-dead people simply because they couldn’t be bothered to stop walking (and move to the side) while checking out something that caught their interest.
And the thing that always leaves me flabbergasted in these situations is that when somebody who isn’t paying attention while walking bumps into me, they then have the gall to give me a look like I’m the tard! Their eyes narrow and focus on my face, like they’re saying: “I’m just a random American dumbass not watching where I’m watching. You were paying attention, so what’s your excuse for letting me bump into you, jerk?!” I can only shake my head, walk away and make plans to give their names to Jigsaw so he can teach them some manners.
Another thing that people do while walking that they wouldn’t dream of doing while driving, is wandering around. In a car people have to stay inside the lines of their lane. It helps the flow of traffic and makes everything nice and organized. When people walk they mosey and weave around like they’re stinking drunk and one of their legs is shorter than the other and they can’t help but cut you off while not even acknowledging your existence. Then I end up stepping on my own feet trying to avoid these dick weeds.
It gets even worse when you factor in the fact that there’s no speed limits on sidewalks and in airports. I’m not talking about limiting how fast people walk, I’m talking about limits on how ssssllllooowwwwlllyyy they walk. It seems like the slowest people always love to walk in the middle of everything. They saunter down hallways and corridors without a care in the world, taking time to stop and smell the nonexistent flowers and annoy the living shit out of me!
Then, (and this is the best part) the ultimate is people who literally just stop walking. Could you imagine driving on a major highway when all of a sudden the car in front of you hits the breaks for no good reason? It’d be mayhem! And yet, people have no trouble with walking somewhere, then instantly stopping the minute they get a phone call or want to readjust their scarves in the 100-degree heat. I wouldn’t mind it if they moved out of the way and let people carry on about their business, but they don’t! They stay rooted to the spot as if they just stepped on a landmine. Meanwhile everybody else with the temerity to be in the same vicinity trying to get from point A to point B has to navigate around these living statues.
In this country we’re so used to people being inconsiderate bastards that people rarely even notice this kind of stuff anymore. Which is kind of a shame. We’re a land full of inconsiderate people who have nary a thought in their fad-obsessed minds for their fellow human beings.
Maybe people are nicer at train stations…
*Are those wack-a-doos still around anymore or is that joke really dated?
Monday, March 09, 2009
Blood, Boobs & Beast
Allow me to take the time, if I may, to talk to you about movies. Not good movies, like Watchmen and Milo & Otis, or expensive blockbuster/epics like The Cat in the Hat and Army of Darkness. In fact, I’m talking about movies you’ve never seen, directed by a guy you’ve never heard of, featuring a cast of nobodies and filmed in the murky backwaters of Baltimore County, (and if you’ve ever been to Baltimore, then you know the whole place is nothing but murky backwaters).
Ahhh, Baltimore. What can I say that hasn’t already been said by The Wire and Ace of Cakes? It’s a weird town. Known primarily for being a dangerous place, it’s also a great city to go if you want to stock up on Gonorrhea. It was once home to Bob Marley, Edgar Allen Poe and Tupac. I think they all rented a house in Druid Hill.
Baltimore is also home to some interesting film makers. One, John Waters, you’ve probably already heard of, (if not I highly recommend that you rent Pink Flamingos, it’s a heart-warming family film that can be enjoyed by all) but I want to introduce you to two directors you probably haven’t heard about.
Over the past 30 or so years, film maker Don Dohler has graced the world with a dozen of the corniest, most low-budget and unintentionally hilarious horror and sci-fi movies you’ve never seen. I’m talking Ed Wood level movies. I’m talking about movies that can’t help but entertain you as you sit there, in front of the tv, enthralled by the train wreck unfolding on the screen.
Everybody loves a good bad movie, as oxymoronic as that sounds. How else do you explain the popularity of Paul Blart: Mall Cop, or anything with Julia Roberts? People are gluttons for movies with special effect budgets smaller than the GDP of Rhodesia. They go nuts for movies where the actors deliver their lines as if they went to the Joey Tribiani School of Acting. People are huge fans of movies with wafer-thin storylines and huge, glaring plot holes. Fortunately, Don Dohler movies have all of those things, by the boat load!
Sadly, Don Dohler died in 2006. But he left behind a legacy of movies that will be enjoyed by people for years to come, (until the zombie uprising destroys civilization).
Before his death, Dohler became the subject of a documentary by another Baltimore area film maker, John Kinhart. In his movie Blood Boobs and Beast, Kinhart chronicles Dohler’s life, from his early years drawing underground comics, up to his final movie Dead Hunt. It turns out, oddly enough, that Dohler gave a young, (at the tender age of 16, no less!) J.J. Abrams one of his first gigs, writing the music to one of the most hilarious sex scenes ever committed to celluloid. Dohler was also very influential in the careers of many people involved in movie-making today, people like Greg Schmekle, the preeminent key grip, Thom Trovenstien, Hollywood’s most celebrated boom mic operator, Olga Bepple, the acclaimed craft services table lady, and, of course, Zaphod Bebblebrox.
Kinhart’s documentary, the provocatively-named Blood, Boobs & Beast, made the circuit of film festivals across the globe, picking up awards and accolades as it went. It’s an excellent film, which means a lot coming from me because typically the only documentaries I like involve pimps being up and hoes being down.
Happily, Blood, Boobs & Beast was finally released on DVD the other week, which means you can get a copy, (which I highly recommend). It’s got drama, pathos, humor and boobs, (I think there’s also some blood and beast in there as well). And as a special deal, the movie comes in a pack of two, along with one of Don Dohler’s movies: Nightbeast. That’s the movie with the ridiculous sex scene scored by the guy who created Lost, Alias, Cloverfield and the new Star Trek flick.
So go to amazon.com and order your copy of Blood, Boobs & Beast today! Do it now! I’m watching you and I know where you live!
And no, I’m not getting paid to pimp this movie. I just happen to be a big fan of obscure film makers from Baltimore. When you watch the documentary, you will be too. Or I’ll refund your money personally.*
*That’s a complete lie.
Ahhh, Baltimore. What can I say that hasn’t already been said by The Wire and Ace of Cakes? It’s a weird town. Known primarily for being a dangerous place, it’s also a great city to go if you want to stock up on Gonorrhea. It was once home to Bob Marley, Edgar Allen Poe and Tupac. I think they all rented a house in Druid Hill.
Baltimore is also home to some interesting film makers. One, John Waters, you’ve probably already heard of, (if not I highly recommend that you rent Pink Flamingos, it’s a heart-warming family film that can be enjoyed by all) but I want to introduce you to two directors you probably haven’t heard about.
Over the past 30 or so years, film maker Don Dohler has graced the world with a dozen of the corniest, most low-budget and unintentionally hilarious horror and sci-fi movies you’ve never seen. I’m talking Ed Wood level movies. I’m talking about movies that can’t help but entertain you as you sit there, in front of the tv, enthralled by the train wreck unfolding on the screen.
Everybody loves a good bad movie, as oxymoronic as that sounds. How else do you explain the popularity of Paul Blart: Mall Cop, or anything with Julia Roberts? People are gluttons for movies with special effect budgets smaller than the GDP of Rhodesia. They go nuts for movies where the actors deliver their lines as if they went to the Joey Tribiani School of Acting. People are huge fans of movies with wafer-thin storylines and huge, glaring plot holes. Fortunately, Don Dohler movies have all of those things, by the boat load!
Sadly, Don Dohler died in 2006. But he left behind a legacy of movies that will be enjoyed by people for years to come, (until the zombie uprising destroys civilization).
Before his death, Dohler became the subject of a documentary by another Baltimore area film maker, John Kinhart. In his movie Blood Boobs and Beast, Kinhart chronicles Dohler’s life, from his early years drawing underground comics, up to his final movie Dead Hunt. It turns out, oddly enough, that Dohler gave a young, (at the tender age of 16, no less!) J.J. Abrams one of his first gigs, writing the music to one of the most hilarious sex scenes ever committed to celluloid. Dohler was also very influential in the careers of many people involved in movie-making today, people like Greg Schmekle, the preeminent key grip, Thom Trovenstien, Hollywood’s most celebrated boom mic operator, Olga Bepple, the acclaimed craft services table lady, and, of course, Zaphod Bebblebrox.
Kinhart’s documentary, the provocatively-named Blood, Boobs & Beast, made the circuit of film festivals across the globe, picking up awards and accolades as it went. It’s an excellent film, which means a lot coming from me because typically the only documentaries I like involve pimps being up and hoes being down.
Happily, Blood, Boobs & Beast was finally released on DVD the other week, which means you can get a copy, (which I highly recommend). It’s got drama, pathos, humor and boobs, (I think there’s also some blood and beast in there as well). And as a special deal, the movie comes in a pack of two, along with one of Don Dohler’s movies: Nightbeast. That’s the movie with the ridiculous sex scene scored by the guy who created Lost, Alias, Cloverfield and the new Star Trek flick.
So go to amazon.com and order your copy of Blood, Boobs & Beast today! Do it now! I’m watching you and I know where you live!
And no, I’m not getting paid to pimp this movie. I just happen to be a big fan of obscure film makers from Baltimore. When you watch the documentary, you will be too. Or I’ll refund your money personally.*
*That’s a complete lie.
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