Archive for April, 2013

No No. 2

April 2013

Lots o’ great stuff in this “conversation” with @michaelpollan. (Now I understand yogurt frenzy: latest sugar pipeline.)

“Pea stained”

April 2013

Finally, I was outdone after Tweeting that every time I read about a chef with a “signature flare” I think of burning food. @acookblog responded: “It’s only used as a distress call. Like if he’s trapped on a dessert island or something.”

Chick season

April 2013

My Panchito tracker again alerted me he had horked up another hacktastic word salad, but I again made it only a graf in before clicking that tab straight off. The real amusement came over to the Twitter, where his BFF was lauding his singular wisdom as if her gig depended on it. And, even better, where a big name who actually can eat and write DM’d me to observe that “his lack of wit almost rises to the level of a medical condition.” Well, he did once sell a joke: the Chimp. Too bad it was a terrible one.

“Bon” mi

April 2013

In other Twitter feedback, I noted how fascinating it was that the Murdoch Daily gave space to let a columnist pimp a sommelier and got: “Correctly guessed byline. What do I win?” Accolades from the Bitterman, maybe?

Pop Staples or pop staples

April 2013

My first thought on hearing Roger Ebert had died: The lede of the obit had better not mention the rice cooker. But the worst part of reducing the rocket scientist to Mrs. Mom With Mushrooms was how the offending dis/dish was simply disappeared. From a paper whose policy is not to “unpublish.” Then again, fast food workers just went on strike all around Manhattan. And all they got was one stinking photo, with a single-line caption.

5 hot dogs, chopped

April 2013

I don’t know why everyone’s hating on the li’l grifter. It’s not as if “her” work is her work. Also, too: Some days you screw the blowup doll. Most days she screws you. I made an orzo mess and am not about to waste Kahlua on chocolate soup.

Pigs in Chinese rivers

April 2013

I don’t know much about economics, but it strikes me as bizarre that Spain is going down the toilet while jamon Iberico prices are going up. I mean, the country has 30 percent unemployment and even Javier Bardem’s family had to hang the cerrado sign on its restaurant for lack of business in Madrid. I can’t remember if the Soviet Union was pumping out great caviar as it collapsed, but then I don’t know much about history, either. Still, even after reading dog meat from Spain had been found in meatballs in the Netherlands, I was more unsettled to see 10 million pounds of processed American crap had been recalled for the usual E. coli. Personally, I’d rather eat Fido than feces.

Stick an insulin needle in it

April 2013

Nice to see the ghost of Time choosing only the Butter Guzzler as the fud world  candidate for its 100 list. If it was trolling for linkbait, it succeeded. But surely someone, somewhere is doing anything more significant at a time when so much is changing for the better. I guess it could have been sicker, though: It could have chosen a ghost who was happy to slap her name on a spinoff of the cash-in on The Sugar. I guess we should never forget how James Beard made enough to buy that townhouse with the mirrored bathroom . . .

Ag gag

April 2013

I noticed My Biggest Fan posted a shot of his caviar dinner one night, and I wondered how long till that will be illegal in North Dakota, too — one day the only abortions there will be on plates at the Olive Garden. And when I wondered over to the Twitter how sustainable the barbecue frenzy can be on an overstretched planet, and how long till vegetable BBQ takes over, of course someone brought up Soylent Green. Maybe that’s why we need all the new forced-birth laws. Something has to fill all those smokers.

RT/UT

April 2013

Never turn your back on lemon curd. // It’s amazing food writers don’t egg houses on Easter. // Listening to yet another Peeps piece on Marketplace– God must be so proud his son’s big day is most associated with processed crap. // How long till there’s a Best Bi Chef award? // They were sap-sucking and using reverse-osmosis in 1992 in Vermont, but I guess news travels slow. // And it’s not as if anyone might need food in Oakland, or anything . . .

Silver retainers forever

April 2013

One of the funniest things I’ve read in donkey’s years was a caption about a society writer whose subjects suspected she was on the take. Glass houses must be in style. As I’ve undoubtedly noted many times, one of my most memorable lunches ever was with the junkyard dog who confessed: “I got very frightened when you were hired.” And the cheat goes on . . .