Archive for the ‘Big Os’ Category

Ch-ch-changes

May 2012

Also at the roundabout of politics and fud, I wonder how many cooks/chefs suddenly had a dream when the Big O said the right thing on marriage equality. After all these years of homophobia in whites, you have to wish the best to everyone coming out of the walk-in. . .

A river of pig’s blood runs through it

January 2012

I’ll always think the Big O’s hugest accomplishment has been kicking over the rock and exposing the grubs underneath. The saner he sounds, the wackier the wingnuts look. Now some cretin wants to ban fetuses in food. And why am I certain said cretin had eggs for breakfast?

14 fewer batches of gingerbread men to hang

December 2011

Every morning I wonder about the inevitable “Obama Fail” headlines when the guy who volunteered to helm the Titanic is doing so much. Now I have an inkling why. Apparently the Chimp and his Lump in the Bed always treated the Panchitos of the press corpse to a huge preview of the White House party fare for the endless and necessary holiday receptions. The Os do not. Revenge must be served hot every morning.

BIY beer

September 2011

Every time anyone whinges about Mrs. O trying to turn around the ship of obesity the USofA has become, I wonder where the Lump in the Bed was for the eight years she allegedly devoted to advocating literacy. One First Lady just got a big chain to promise to make kids’ meals slightly smaller heart attacks on a plate. The other was so invisibly out there and fighting that Borders is now out of business. Maybe if she’d pushed them to add smoking sections in the cafes?

No scanner surprise at DC Central Kitchen

September 2011

I tried to tune out all 9/11 necro-narcissism while hoping the 10th anniversary of the Iraq invasion inspires more, and real, introspection. But when I heard the Chimp showed up for the memorials I could only imagine what the reaction would have been if a notorious cook had turned up at her victims-of-negligence funerals. Typhoid Mary, though, probably had more shame.

As the sign said, “Pray less, think more”

August 2011

Just back from Turkey, I can’t begin to describe what luxury it was to be able to tune out the kkkraziness for 10 days. Unfortunately, some huge news from the homeland was inescapable. Apparently the Big O had burgers for his birthday lunch. This should settle it, though. What kind of muslin wants fries with Ramadan?

Cinco de Hellmann’s

May 2011

I saw a fair amount of mean-spirited chortling over the Big O joking that no one should get between his wife and a tamale. But once again, the way they eat illustrates how far this big old melting pot has come. Am I the only one old enough to remember when Gerald Ford humiliated himself by stuffing a tamal into his pie hole husk and all?

Kellogg’s of Oz

March 2011

A Waikiki resort is now offering “GMO-free cuisine.” Which will make the birthers go even nuttier — could there be better proof Hawaii is really not America?

But honey is bee sugar

March 2011

I was kinda disappointed there was no rabid wingnut outrage over the Big O brewing beer in the White House. With all their obsession with the unborn lately, the Teabaggers must have fresher eggs to fry.

Also, too, socialist Spudnuts

February 2011

Apparently the word most Americans recalled most from the Big O’s State of the Union was salmon. Which proves it really has become the chicken of the sea. I only hope all those Villagers who think arugula is esoteric heard the adjective that made the joke: smoked. Once upon a time that would have lain there like a lox.

Remember the halibut

January 2011

For all the carping about the menu for the Hu state dinner at the People’s House of America, it’s worth noting that the last time the Chinese president was in the capital the Chimp couldn’t stay alert past lunchtime. But I guess we’ll have to wait 30 years for the “everybody knows” admissions by the media that there was a problem — not Alzheimer’s but Jack Daniel’s.

Let us now analyze WashState wines

January 2011

Of course, I’m such a cynic I suspect Mrs. O let the Lump in the Bed’s holdover chef do the dinner just to make it obvious that the Chimp’s legacy of disaster extended right into the kitchen. The other state dinners, for India and for Mexico, were planned and executed by celebrity chefs who actually cook. This was left to someone who spent years grilling cheese and apportioning pretzels. Asked for “quintessential all-American,” is it any surprise she would come up with goat cheese salad, lobster, steak, baked potato, creamed spinach and apple pie with ice cream (or, as they say in the pure and simple Heartland: a la mode)? What this mostly makes clear is that we’re no closer to defining American cuisine than we were 28 years ago when I got into eating for a living. Even then, all attempts to codify it splintered into regional styles (Southwestern, New England, Cajun, California etc.) Judging by what passes for American today, we’re lucky she didn’t whip up pizzas, burgers and cupcakes. And that makes me almost want to give Cristeta (or Yosses) credit: By serving apples in a crust, she validated all those silly media sorts nattering that pies are the new cupcakes. Too bad Hu wasn’t invited for a sleepover. He coulda had the next lukewarm thing: pizza for breakfast.

Candy corn at home, blackface at the bar

November 2010

Back in the Chimp’s reign of error, I remember being in a restaurant in Torino where the owner asked if we were Americanos and I had to say: “No, no — New Yorkese.” Guess I’m going back to that since the Big O lost the equivalent of one of three Michelin stars  and everyone’s decided he’s out of business. At least we got some amusement in this miserable campaign season: Semi-Homemade was kept as far out of sight as the Chimp himself. Apparently the big fear was having New Yorkese realize if we wanted to eat her crap we would have stayed in Iowa.

No recalls for local eggs

August 2010

Speaking of which, I have to admit I was a little disturbed by the photo of the Big O and his younger daughter swimming on the Gulf Coast — there are stunts and then there’s stupidity. I’d be hesitant to eat shrimp from there, not because of the oil but because of the dispersant a less than trustworthy company pumped into the source of so much seafood (and life). Then again, maybe it’s no worse than eating beef treated with ammonia, or chickens festering in their own feces. And I wonder how many others noticed the latest report proving it’s beef and chicken that are most responsible for most food poisoning; produce actually comes in third. But tomatoes and scallions have no Big Ag protectors. Too bad there’s no cure for spoon-fed reportage.

There will be brimstone. Not bendy straws.

June 2010

Photo of the week. It’s a cocktail, not a milkshake. But you get the message.