Just a random thought......

 As most of you have already figured out, hipsters annoy the f#ck out of me.  So to get under their skin I could either eat red meat, or run around with an ice pick and pop their kick balls.  Eating red meat's easier and much more enjoyable.  Nuff said!

Chew on THAT!
T.S.G.

An Epic Fail By The Burger Clown

Well, faithful readers, it’s THAT time of year again.   The time of year when McDonald’s brings back the McRib sandwich for a limited time, only.  Am I excited?  No.  Look, I’m not at all against fast food.  Go back and read some of my earlier pieces; people have a right to eat what they want.  I think folks like Morgan Spurlock and Amanda Obney are some of the most idiotic ass-clowns on the planet.  I don’t care for the McRib simply because it fails to live up to all the hype. 

I remember last year when McDonald’s brought it back and people were wetting their pants from excitement as soon as news of the McRib’s return hit the media.  I’d never had one, so I decided to plunk down my money and try one.  I was truly puzzled by all the fuss, because instead of this religious experience that its fans claimed I was going to have upon eating it, all it really did was give me a loose stool.

Fast Food as a whole is what it is: a quick meal for a small amount of cash.  It sustains you and keeps you moving.  It gives you the fuel you need until you can actually get a decent meal, and that’s it.  Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against McDonald’s; I like other things that they offer on their menu (the Reese’s McFlurry for one – I eat the HELL out of those).  But seriously, The McRib is really a sad excuse for a sandwich, even by the already-low standards of the Fast Food Industry.  I can’t believe I’m actually throwing this out there, but I myself could make a better version of the McRib by microwaving one of these and putting it between a burger bun.

I seriously can’t believe I just asserted that a vegan product was better than something made out of meat.  Well, in this rare instance it is.  Meat byproducts covered in cut-rate barbeque sauce hardly makes for a tasty sandwich.  A more fitting name for it would probably be the McAlpo.

I’m not attempting to take a run at Fast Food, or anything.  Quite a bit of it I like.  Arby’s makes great sandwiches, although it’s little more than a trailer park version of Sh’warma.  The KFC Double Down is pretty awesome in its own right.  Don’t let all the angry outcry from a loud, uppity minority dissuade you from trying one if you haven’t.  It’s not the nefarious abomination that the harpy-like haters would lead you to believe.  It’s actually nothing new.  It’s more or less Chicken Cordon Bleu that you eat with your fingers.  Granted it’s not terribly healthy; I limit myself to around two-per-year.  And I won’t even begin to extol you of the virtues and near-perfection of In-N-Out Burger.  All of these items are supremely worthy of fast food glory.  But at the risk of awakening the ghost of Ray Crock, I’m sad to say that the annual fanfared arrival of the McRib sandwich does little to inspire from me more than a yawn.   It’s McSchlocky, plain and simple.

Chew on THAT!

T.S.G.

An Eggplant In Every Pot

The choice to become a vegan is one shrouded in emotion, delusion, and often group dynamics and peer pressure.  It's not unlike the factors that cause someone to become a suicide bomber.  Sadly, the suicide bomber might actually have opted for the better deal.  If you’re one of those people who fail to recognize that our time on this planet is terribly limited, and you opt to lead a life of monastic, culinary self-denial, the road before you will lead you on a path of stunted gastronomic fulfillment at best.  If I were ever forced (probably at gunpoint) to walk that path again, which I misguidedly did of my own volition more than a decade ago, I’d probably do it alot differently.  I'm very much of the opinion that veganism doesn't have to be as shitty as vegans often make it.  For instance there are scores of truly delicious vegan offerings within Indian and Ethiopian cuisine.  These respective food cultures’ dishes are a far better alternative to the wretched and hardly-palatable soy-based or seitan-based meat substitutes that many vegetarians and vegans in our country consume out of pure hypocritical laziness.   Ironically, these processed “fake-meats” are fashioned into various shapes and forms that coincidentally resemble those ubiquitous meat dishes found in Western food culture that vegans and PETA kooks so vociferously rail against.  What you’re getting with “fake-meats” is something that tastes sub-standard, and serves as little more than a delivery system for the condiments that are heaped upon them in a desperate attempt to mask their putrid flavor and tame their questionable texture.  Seriously, if you’re going to go out of your way to vilify meat consumption, why would you choose to consume food products that so closely resemble meat?  It’s like taking a vow of celibacy, and instead choosing to schtup a human-shaped blow-up doll for sexual relief. 

“Fake-meats” might be the single-most perplexing aspect of veganism for me.  Why do so many vegans consume Bocaburgers, Not Dogs, and Tofurkey?  As a reformed vegetarian, I can say first hand that every last one of these “staples” are nothing short of universally gross and unfulfilling.  Why eat a lousy Tofurkey during the holidays when there are so many better, more artful options?  So what if the whole “turkey and stuffing” motif is the traditional American holiday shtick.  If you don’t eat meat, why the hell would you bother going through the motions only to eat something that’s turkey-like, or turkey-ish, or turkey-esque?  You’ve already succeeded in pissing off your parents by refusing to eat your mom’s holiday turkey.  Now you want to ugly up her holiday table with some sick-looking seitan/soy Frankenstein mess?  Maybe if you offered to bring over a nice meat-free Indian curry, you could lessen the venom of your parents’ already seething annoyance at you.  Take that as sound advice from a former vegetarian.   

When there are so many other rich and interesting food cultures like those of India and Ethiopia from which one can extract vegan and vegetarian meal options, why would one even bother with the aforementioned processed schlock?  As I inferred earlier, maybe it’s a matter of “hypocritical laziness”.    Perhaps, users of the aforementioned “fake-meats” have certain artless elements of our fastfood-driven American culture so heavily engrained in their psyche that they simply default to what resembles those familiar foods with which they grew up.  And simply put, they lack the ability to break away from the gravitational pull of a meat-centric diet and they opt for a diet bolstered by these miserable patty-like and tube-like pseudo-meats.  With this in mind, I’m not at all surprised that many of their ilk come off as angry, grumpy, rancorous, intolerant, and easily provoked.

In the interest of artful and non-lazy vegan cooking, one of my favorite meatless dishes is the French classic, ratatouille.  A dish recently rediscovered by many foodies vis-à-vis the Disney/Pixar animated feature film of the same name.  During the course of writing the film, writer/director Brad Bird spent time observing Thomas Keller, who is perhaps the most renowned and respected American chef of the present day.  In the climax of Bird’s film, Remy (said film’s rat protagonist) constructs a simple meal of ratatouille for an infamously scathing food critic; but does so with great success.  Brad Bird took his cues on the animation design for the film’s featured dish from an actual ratatouille recipe developed by Thomas Keller.  This very recipe is one that I myself have made several times, and I always find the whole process enjoyable from cutting board to table.

Here are some photos from a recent attempt that I made at it on a Sunday afternoon.

Red, yellow, & orange peppers

Peppers ready to be roasted

  A shallot plus other herbs

                                                           

  The roasted peppers

                                                               



The pappers + herbs + minced garlic + diced tomatoes



The main ingredients: yellow squash, zucchini, & eggplant

The base: peppers & tomatoes minus the herbs



All the ingredients arranged in the pan



Covered with foil....

A French rosé is a great match!  Enjoy a glass during the 2 1/2 hour cook time.



Fresh from the oven.

 

Vegatable splendor!

For those of you who are interested in taking the time and tackling this gem from France’s culinary pantheon, Chef Keller’s recipe is as follows:

THOMAS KELLER'S RATATOUILLE

Serves 4 to 6.


• 1/2 red pepper, seeds and ribs removed
• 1/2 yellow pepper, seeds and ribs removed
• 1/2 orange pepper, seeds and ribs removed
• 5 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil, divided
• 1 1/2 tsp. minced garlic, divided
• 1/2 c. finely diced yellow onion
• 3 tomatoes (about 12 oz.), peeled, seeded and finely diced, juices reserved
• 1 sprig fresh thyme
• 1 sprig flat-leaf parsley
• 1/2 bay leaf
• 1 zucchini (4 to 5 oz.) sliced in 1/16-in. rounds
• 1 Japanese eggplant (4 to 5 oz.), sliced into 1/16-in. rounds
• 1 yellow squash (4 to 5 oz. ), sliced into 1/16-in. rounds
• 4 Roma tomatoes, sliced into 1/16-in. rounds
• 1/8 tsp. dried thyme leaves
• 1 tsp. balsamic vinegar
• Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Directions

Heat the oven to 450 degrees. Place the peppers cut side down on a foil-lined sheet. Roast until skin loosens, about 15 minutes. Remove from heat and let rest until cool enough to handle. Peel and chop finely.

Combine 2 tablespoons olive oil, 1 teaspoon garlic and onion in medium skillet over low heat until very soft but not browned, about 8 minutes. Add the tomatoes, their juices, fresh thyme, parsley and bay leaf. Simmer over low heat until very soft and very little liquid remains, about 10 minutes. Do not brown.

Add peppers and simmer to soften them. Season to taste with salt and discard herbs. Reserve 1 tablespoon of the mixture and spread remainder in bottom of an 8-inch skillet.

Reduce the heat in the oven to 275 degrees.

Down the center of the skillet arrange a strip of alternating slices of zucchini, eggplant, yellow squash and Roma tomatoes, overlapping so that 1/4 inch of each slice is exposed. Around the center strip, overlap the vegetables in a close spiral that lets slices mound slightly toward center. Repeat until pan is filled.

Mix 1/2 teaspoon minced garlic, 2 teaspoons olive oil in bowl and season with salt and pepper to taste. Sprinkle over the vegetables.

Cover pan with foil and seal well. Bake until vegetables are tender, about 2 hours. Uncover and bake for 30 minutes more.

For the final topping combine the reserved tablespoon of sauce with the remaining 1 tablespoon oil, the vinegar, and salt and pepper to taste in a bowl. Drizzle around plate. Serve hot.

Nutrition information per serving of 6:
Calories 145

Cholesterol 0 mg
Carbohydrates 10 g

Sodium 9 mg
Protein 2 g

Calcium 25 mg
Fat 10 g

Dietary fiber 3 g
Saturated fat 2 g

It's seriously good.

Chew on THAT!

T.S.G.

Breakfast In "The D"

A few weeks ago, me and a crew of my homies ventured to downtown Detroit for a bachelor party.  We did the standard bachelor party activities.  We took in a professional sporting event.  We drank.  We blew our kids’ college money at a few casinos.  We drank.  We spent a quick thirty minutes in a Greektown strip club (until the groom said, “Okay, I’ve seen enough naked single moms”); and we left and drank some more.

 

The following morning, we all woke with reasonably potent hangovers.  Some of the guys I was with decided to go down to Starbucks in the lobby of our hotel and attempt to chase away their dry mouth and nagging hangover hunger pains with coffee and muffins.  In my current state, I had no interest in standing in line, and attempting to speak English to a fake-language-using staff, probably made up of Starbucks usual cast of annoying types: Sad Girl, Failed Musician Guy, and others.  I was far too hung over to put up with dialogue like this:

 

 

Me:  I’d like a large coffee, please.

 

Them:  You mean a Venti?

 

Me:  No.  I said a “large”.

 

Them:  That IS a large.

 

Me:  In what country?!?!  F#ck off!  I’m going someplace like McDonald’s, where they speak English….

 

 

So, unwilling to wrestle with the stupidity of Starbucks’ unbending, non-user-friendly business model, I floated the idea to my remaining still-hungry compatriots of actually getting a fulfilling (and non-infuriating) breakfast somewhere else.

 

I had previously seen a place in Ferndale called The Fly Trap profiled a few years back on Guy Fieri’s show “Diners, Drive-ins, & Dives”, and thought, “Hmmmm…..the next time I’m in ‘The D’, I need to try this place.”  The moment couldn’t have been any more perfect.  We were three hungry guys.  We wanted to get out of Detroit with all deliberate speed.  And we had a full tank of gas.  God hadn’t given us a mission, or anything; but our stomachs sure had.  So seizing the moment, I blurted out, “Guys, I know of the perfect place!”

 

My bro Avram had the appropriate idea of bypassing the freeway, and simply driving straight north up Woodward Avenue into Ferndale .  It was a brief and interesting drive.  Maybe a bit more depressing than interesting, as that parts of inter city Detroit nowadays tend to resemble “ Berlin circa 1946”, only without the glitz.  But we made sure to keep our car doors locked, and we were in Ferndale in no time. 

 

 

                                                    The Fly Trap.  Woodward Avenue.  Ferndale, Michigan.

 

The Fly Trap is quite conspicuous and easy to find for the first-time visitor.  It’s on the right-hand side of Woodward Avenue if you’re coming north out of downtown Detroit, so you’d be hard pressed to miss it.  Sunday is generally their busiest day, and we lucked out and walked in right before a line began to form.  By the time we exited their establishment, a good size line of about eight or ten patrons had amassed itself outside of the restaurant.  Let’s hear it for impeccable timing!

 

The dining area of The Fly Trap isn’t terribly large.  There’s a small lunch counter and perhaps ten or twelve booths.  All-in-all, they’d be lucky to fit seventy people in their establishment.  The restaurant is staffed with what you’d expect in a town like Ferndale : cute hipster girls with retro-looking hair styles and lots of arm tats and piercings.  A look that was fairly cutting edge in 2005, but now has turned a tad cliché.   Service was helpful and attentive, but the turn-around on the delivery of our order was a tad slow on the day that we visited.

 

I think the whole aim of the place’s design is to look as diner-esque and possible, but to attempt to appear as if they’re not trying to look diner-esque.  This premise as I’ve just described it might sound nonsensical and counter-intuitive, but if you were to step into The Fly Trap, you’d know exactly what I mean.  The owners have tried hard to make the greasy-spoon look of this establishment appear “organic” and “not on-purpose”, but it actually comes off as being a tiny bit kitschy and contrived.  Fortunately, the food is amazingly good, and the prices are as affordable and as reasonable as one could expect in Metro Detroit. 

 

The Fly Trap keeps the same menu throughout the entire day, and refers to their dining concept as “Blunch” (A compression of breakfast and lunch.  I’m not sure how this differs from “Brunch”, but kudos to them for being original).  They aren’t open late (Tuesday-Friday 8am-9pm.  Saturday & Sunday 8am-5pm.  Closed Monday), so as suited as their food might be for the late-night post bar crowd, a late drunken meal at The Fly Trap isn’t an option.  Perhaps the owners are themselves hitting the clubs in Royal Oak with everyone else, and therefore, keeping the restaurant open until 3am is out of the question.    

 

Their menu uses some creative and catchy nomenclature in describing their food offerings.  For instance, instead of simply listing “scrambled eggs” on the menu, they would say, “A rumble of eggs”.  This depiction, in my mind, is both cute and very descriptive in an onomatopoeic sense.  It’s catchy, and I totally get it.   Their standard plate of eggs and breakfast meat is entitled “Eggs à la boring”.  Which is both humorous, and might send the right subliminal nudge to the customer that, “Hey, you can do this on the cheap, but wouldn’t it be cooler to spend one or two dollars more and get something much more exciting?”  

 

And for the most part, “exciting” is a pretty accurate word to describe what The Fly Trap has to offer on its menu.  They offer a rib eye steak with two eggs, smothered in a “Wild west” sauce; the dish aptly named “Cowboy Curtis” (after Lawrence Fishburn’s character in Pee Wee’s Playhouse).  Crab cakes are unexpectedly available as a breakfast side item.  I was also quite stunned to see Pho (Vietnamese beef noodle soup) on the menu; a very interesting detour away from the diner motif that the owners are trying to put up.  I’ll not give away any of the other cute and catchy names of their dishes, as that chuckling over the cheeky menu is a big part of the dining experience at The Fly Trap, so I’d rather not ruin it for you. 

                                                                            Red Flannel Hash.

 

I ended up ordering the Red Flannel Hash, which was absolutely delicious.  It combined beef brisket, potatoes, red beets and onions, along with eggs made-to-order and toast of your choosing.  There are certain menu items that I’m a complete sucker for: Kobe and Wagyu beef, sea bass, and truffles can be listed among them.  Beef brisket is also part of this pantheon of food items that one could use as bait if they’d want to catch me in a human-sized box trap.  Sometimes, when these items are listed on a menu, I order them and get unwittingly burned (this happens often with Kobe and Wagyu beef), but other times I strike gold.  The Fly Trap’s Red Flannel Hash was definitely an epic win.  Everything was expertly and flavorfully prepared, and all of these basic and simple ingredients came together to create a tasty and memorable breakfast experience.  I’d definitely order the beef brisket hash again.  The trouble is, there’s at least a dozen-and-a-half OTHER items on their menu that warrant exploration, so I’m not sure when I’ll get a chance to work my way back to it.  And theirs is a menu for literally EVERYONE.  There are three or four animal-products-free dishes on the menu, so it’s very much vegan friendly, as well as a great place for us standard omnivores to nosh away a hangover.    

 

I suppose Denny’s or IHOP might be a tad cheaper, but why bother going to some big box place, when you’d only be saving maybe a dollar or two?  In The Fly Trap the consumer has an artistically constructed meal, fresh ingredients, interesting surroundings, and you don’t have to worry about some disgruntled minimum wage ex-con spitting in your eggs.  There are some breakfast places around, where the only time you’d frequent them is when you’re drunk.  In my mind, you’d have to be drunk to ever consider passing up The Fly Trap.  It’s food done right!

 

Chew on THAT!!

T.S.G.

Take off......to the Great White North

My parents began taking me to Northern Michigan more than thirty years ago. Over the last three decades, I have witnessed the more heavily touristed areas of that part of the state become saturated with development. In many ways, I would suppose vacationing in a developed area defeats the whole purpose of traveling long distances for a rustic outdoor experience, but everyone has their own definition of "roughing it". Visitors to Boyne City or Petoskey nowadays will find little difference between these towns and say the affluent Detroit suburb of Birmingham. Okay, maybe the “Up North” cognates are cleaner.

Since the advent of the Bay Harbor development project just south of Petoskey, the ultra rich from literally all corners of the globe have descended upon Little Traverse Bay, and brought with them a demand for high-end wine, cheeses and other foodstuffs. So when The Wife and I venture North for a weekend, we can rest assured that copious amounts for awesome goodies can be found. If one’s looking to stock one’s cupboard, fridge, and wine rack with the finest of staples, it’s as easy as a trip to Esperance in Charlevoix, Symons General Store in Petoskey, or Toski Sands Market in Harbor Springs.

Despite the new-found good fortune of the vacationing gourmet food consumer, in the case of Bay Harbor, local community leaders have come to realize that drawing in individuals with such vast wealth can sometimes be akin to Faustian bargaining. Such was witnessed a few years back when the seasonal “residents” of Bay Harbor attempted to seize a major section of public roadway between Charlevoix and Petoskey under the pretext of “imminent domain”; all for the sole purpose of turning it into their own private airstrip, for use mostly during the summer months. It didn’t matter that Petoskey, Charlevoix, and Harbor Spring all had existing airports capable of supporting the traffic of as many Lear and Gulfstream aircraft that Bay Harbor’s rich “cottagers” could throw at them. These rich bastards wanted the convenience of being able to step off of their private jets, into a golf cart, and be whisked away to the comfort of their living rooms all in under ten minutes. So what if the run-of-the-mill work-a-day local resident would now be forced to drive an extra ten miles out-of-route in order to make the usual trek between Charlevoix and Petoskey. Fortunately, the year-round community objected so vociferously, that the scheme never developed past the planning stages.

To make a pendulum swing in the exact opposite direction, the once rustic Charlevoix has since been invaded by hordes of hippies and check-cashing Socialists; and individuals representing the Green Party now hold local public office. So I suppose as much as I find their ilk as kook-ridden as any lot, the everyday vacationer, like myself, can rest-assured that elements of former Skull and Bones types aren’t going to invade, wall-off, and stage Eyes Wide Shut styled sex orgies in the little vacation community that I grew up loving so deeply and so dearly. In this case, the old adage of “enemy of my enemy is my friend” rings loud and true.

Since the early 1990’s over-development has more or less drawn many “non-traditionals” into Northwest Lower Michigan as permanent residents, and has really served to siphon certain erstwhile elements of “yokel” out of many of the locals. One community that has yet to be hit full-force by over-development and over-saturation is the still-quaint town of Bellaire, located roughly 35 miles south of Charlevoix, and about 20 miles west of Mancelona. Typical of Northwest Lower Michigan, there is little industry in the area aside from tourism. The main attraction that has traditionally brought in Down-staters has been Shanty Creek Resort. With two ski areas for abundant winter enjoyment, and several golf courses for the summer golf crowd, Shanty is to Bellaire, as “The Mill” was to the town of Charlestown in the movie “Slapshot”. It was amidst this resorty backdrop that a few local entrepreneurs boldly staked their claim to local culinary legitimacy.

Let’s say you’ve just spent the whole of a chilly winter day shredding the hell out of nearby Shanty. I’m talking skiing the way I ski: arrive right before the lifts open; disregard a lunch break; and ski like a psycho until 4:30 when the lifts close and the ski patrol rancorously throws you off the mountain. Sure, I generally skip lunch on a ski day. I paid my sixty bucks to ski, not eat over-priced cafeteria food. So naturally, once the skis are locked into the car’s roof rack, I’m pretty ravenous. The perfect antidote for this kind of animal-like hunger is a trip to Toonies Fish & Steak on Bridge Street. Don’t let the “Fish & Steak” portion of their name deter a price conscious consumer. It’s not as upscale as one might think. Toonies may have some higher quality items on their menu, but they’re a diner through and through. And a GOOD diner, nonetheless. In my humble opinion, the perfect post-ski meal is none other than a menu item known as “The Angry Mountain”. Toonies starts the Angry Mountain with half-pound bacon cheeseburger. Fresh lettuce, tomato, and onion are added in, as would be customary on any proper burger. But what sets The Angry Mountain apart from the normal burger is the bun. In place of a bun Toonies uses two grilled-cheese sandwiches. All of this is held together by a large steak knife, used in the manner of a railroad spike, right down the center of the sandwich. What you come away with is a huge and deliciously satisfying burger, with plenty of food to spare. The first time I ordered The Angry Mountain, my cousin’s husband and I split one and we easily took it down. So as I said earlier, it’s potentially the perfect post-ski meal. Toonies also has a pretty legit selection of quality microbrews on tap, to round out the experience. Toonies doesn’t disappoint.

                                       The Angry Mountain.  Pay no attention to the table clutter.

Now if one is in the mood for the ultimate in on-site craft brewing, a trip across the street to Short’s Brewery is a must. Joe Short had been brewing beer for years prior to deciding to market his quality brew to the general public. Short’s various brews are available for purchase throughout the state of Michigan, but like any beer, the experience is never the same until you actually come to the source and have a fresh pint drawn right from the tap. Michigan has several prominent craft brew outfits: Dragonmeade, Bell’s, and Arcadia are just to name a few. Short’s Brewery ranks right up there with any of these aforementioned micro brewers. With upwards of 15 rotating styles of beer to choose from, they have something for everyone. Growlers are always available if you’d like to take a larger quantity of your favorite selection back to the cabin. Short’s has a limited menu, but it’s menu is loaded with great choices. The veritable star of their culinary offerings would be of course their pizza. With inventive (and sometimes confusing) names like “The Stallion” and “Mutilated Lips”, there are many different varieties from which to choose. To cut to the chase, Short’s pizza is arguably the BEST pizza that I have ever had, this side of the Atlantic. This is no exaggeration or faint praise. I am truly hard pressed to recall a better pizza that I have found in any other North American pizza establishment. Their thin crust is the anchor of this masterpiece; but cheese, sauce; and toppings all come together in a culmination of catamount pizza bliss. If you’ve just skied the whole day, and then meandered your way down to Short’s for a pint and a pizza, that’s a day that is nearly impossible to improve upon. And although Short’s servers might sometimes be semi-aloof, a simpering hipster waitress is a small sacrifice when faced with the reality that you’re about to experience maybe the most outstanding pizza anywhere.

If you’re traveling through Michigan’s northern Lower Peninsula, and are looking to avoid the hoi pollois, the hippies, and slowly-developing urban sprawl, Bellaire is definitely the place. Arriving thirsty and with an empty stomach is obligatory.

Chew on THAT!
T.S.G.

Another Pesky Mosquito

Who is Amanda Obney?  That’s the big question on the table.  Although the name may not ring a bell to most of you, she is in all actuality the California woman who is suing Taco Bell (owned by YUM Brands)  for “misleadingly” using the word “beef” to describe the ground beef filling used in their tacos and other products.  Here’s what is known about Taco Bell’s new shadowy nemesis:  She’s from Orange County, California.  She’s a huge fan of frivolous lawsuits.  She hates Taco Bell. 

Her claims, vis-à-vis her vulture-like attorneys is that Taco Bell’s ground beef only contains 36% beef.  The rest of the mixture, per Obney and her pack of legal hyenas, consists of “grain products”, “binders”, and other “extenders” (the former terminology was taken directly from the pages of her lawsuit).  Taco Bell has countered by saying that the actual beef portion is upwards of 88% pure beef, and that some grain-fillers and spices are indeed used.  But this is only to preserve the “taste” and “texture” of their product.   

When news of this lawsuit broke, the general tone among many of my PETA/Vegan slanted friends and acquaintances (vis-à-vis their respective Facebook pages) was something to the effect of, “See!  I told you it was garbage!”   But seriously, for the rest of us, I think the reaction varied from, “So what”, to “Yawn”, to “A law suit?  What a waste of time and money”.  Leave it to The Daily Show’s Jon Stewart later that evening to uncannily sum up the ridiculous tone of this litigious fiasco by stating, “64% grains; 36% beef? What a relief!  That’s not nearly as bad as what we had previously feared Taco Bell was putting in their tacos.”  (Paraphrase)

Okay, for those of you that have followed this blog from the beginning, you’ll know that I don’t recommend fast food.  Although I eat it periodically, I try to avoid it as much as I can.  Good health aside, if you eat a Whopper and a large fries on a daily basis, you’re doing your soul a huge disservice.  Your approach to food is no different than Remy’s father in “Ratatouille” when he haphazardly utters, “Food is fuel”.  But that said, fundamentally speaking, what you put in your body is entirely your own choice.  And unless you have a serious health issue, and are under a doctor’s care, you’re free to eat whatever you want (within reason, of course).  I’m the last person to advocate using the court system to sue, or restrain, or litigate anyone away from a food choice that merely poses an individual health risk; or is a health risk that can be controlled and limited through moderation, exercise, and common sense.  I don’t agree with anti-tobacco lawsuits, and I certainly don’t agree with anti-food lawsuits.  Especially when we know that every adult consumer knows full-well what they’re putting in their body.

Ms. Obney joins the ranks of Morgan Spurlock (Supersize Me) and various other zealous crackpots in yet another attack on the nation’s fast food industry.  An industry that only exists because people in this country are lazy, and refuse to take the time to grocery shop and cook for themselves.  In my mind, if you’re too lazy to open a can of soup, or peal an orange, or open a carton of skim milk you deserve to be morbidly obese and in poor health.   This isn’t a case of a prison inmate suing the prison system over meal quality.  Obney, like the rest of us, does have copious other food choices.  And based upon the fact that she’s not requesting any money in her lawsuit, I’ll confidently conclude that she has deeper ulterior motives.  Those motives undoubtedly involve forwarding some kooky, activist, proselytizing philosophy.  I'll go out on a limb and say it; she’s probably some variety of militant vegan.  Think that’s a capricious, scattershot assumption on my part?  Well, you don’t see Mario Batali suing fast food chains, do you?  And unlike more level-headed approaches to obesity and nutrition issues (like the one being used by Jamie Oliver of Jamie’s Food Revolution), instead of attempting to change the way people think about food, Ms. Obney et al would just simply choose to abruptly cut off the flow of schlocky food at the source. This in itself, only succeeds in leaving the hapless, food-inept masses with fewer food choices.  In my estimation, that’s like denying a welfare lifer their monthly government check, while simultaneously leaving them without the skills or the know-how to find stable, gainful employment.  This type of half-baked solution to the problem only makes the afflicted person suffer worse.  

Wanting to leverage or eliminate ANY part of our existing commercial food chain, simply because one feels it’s “immoral” is no different than attempting to force children to pray in public schools, or forcing women to wear a burka in public.   The universalizing mentality that these militant anti-food-establishment kooks have is really no different from the mindset of those Operation Rescue crazies who block the doors of abortion clinics.  What’s next?  Picketing in front of Taco Bell with signs that read, “God Hates Fat-Asses!”?   If anything, the actions of Obney and her ilk are proof-positive that when a practicing vegan is not also a practicing Buddhist, they can get pretty damn annoying.  Instead of this “bombshell” making me recoil away from Taco Bell, if anything, it makes me want to go out and buy a dozen tacos just to exercise my freedom of choice and to further piss off these lunatics in the process.  Because when it comes down to it, all that Obney and the people who champion her goofy actions are doing, is stepping on a person’s individual right to make a choice for themselves.  When nutrition information is readily available (like it is in the case of ALL major fast food chains), one cannot credibly field the argument that people lack the tools to make an informed decision on what they should be putting in their bodies.  Unless of course you’d also like to couple that with the arrogant assertion that , “People are too stupid to make the right choices on their own, so we smarter, more enlightened people need to make choices for them”.  If that sentiment sounds like a ludicrous, elitist, and condescending mindset, you’re right, it certainly is. 

Does Amanda Obney think she can “scare” the fast food industry into “healthening” up their menu offerings?  Sorry to break the news to you, Mandy; but YUM Brands and all of their fast food cousins have deeper pockets than you do.  They can drag this out longer than you can.  And in the end, all you've done is made a bunch of lawyers richer.  And if Yum Brands’ market share does happen to shrink in this country because of this lawsuit (which it won’t) that wouldn’t matter anyway.  They’d make up for their sales losses by expanding into a rapidly developing Chinese market.   If Ms. Obney dreams of becoming the Eric Brockovich of the fast food industry, she’s nothing short of a certifiable nut-case.  

So thanks, Amanda Obney (whoever the heck you are) for helping to invigorate our ailing economy by keeping dozens of bottom-feeding, notoriety-hungry attorneys employed.   Thanks for working to erode our freedom of choice by wastefully using the courts as your proselytizing sledge hammer.  And thanks for being soooooo much smarter than the rest of us poor slobs.  I suppose expecting you to take up a crusade that holds true usefulness and intrinsic value to society was just a little too much for us to ask of you this time around.

Chew on THAT!

T.S.G.

The Art of Happiness - Glutton Style

Can money buy you happiness?  Sorry altruists.  According to recent news articles, research has shown that richer people are generally happier than their poorer counterparts.   So if you’re not a recent lotto winner, a trust fund brat, or a film star can one find a path to happiness without limitless amounts of cash?  I think so, and it’s as easy as a quick trip to the grocery store.

Method One - Buttered Popcorn with Chardonnay

Gather together the following items:

-A popcorn popper (an air popper is my preferred popping device)

-A small bag of un-popped popcorn.

-One stick of SALTED butter (Yes, a FULL stick.  Plan on using ALL of it)

-A large bowl.

-A bottle of oaked Chardonnay (chilled).

This “method” is so painfully easy that even the most pathetically inept among us can’t possibly screw it up.  If you can pop popcorn and melt a stick of butter, you’re well on your way to forgetting all the problems that had been recently piled upon your shoulders.

Step One:  Pop the popcorn.  I prefer an air popper, because I don’t like the way oil undercuts my enjoyment of the butter. You could use anywhere between ¾ of a cup to a full cup of un-popped corn.  The less corn you use, the greater the buttery-ness of the finished product.      DO NOT substitute microwave popcorn for the real thing.  When you add in the wine later on, the effect will be a completely unfulfilling crash-and-burn.  The popcorn’s merely a delivery device for the butter, but it’s still important.

Step Two:  Melt the butter.  You can use either a microwave or a stove-top; the choice is yours.  Once the butter has melted pour it over the freshly popped popcorn.  Stir to ensure that the butter is mixed evenly.  DO NOT substitute margarine, Benecol, I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter, or any of the other fake butter replacement products in place of REAL butter.  Again, if you do, expect an epic fail when the wine is introduced.  If your wife or girlfriend is against animal products and steadfastly forbids the use of butter in your household, have her pack her things and leave.  Maybe go as far as having the locks re-keyed as well, because I’d imagine that she’s probably a crazy lunatic who doesn’t take break-ups well.  In the long run, she’ll only make your life miserable, and if she’s mercilessly controlling what you eat, she probably mercilessly has your penis in lock-down mode, too.  Be a man and do yourself a favor and find a chick who isn’t a controlling psycho.  So what if the next girlfriend’s a tad on the chunky side from having a normal diet.  Small butts are over-rated. 

Step Three:  Add iodized salt to taste.  For me, less salt is more.  But even a little bit is needed for balance.

Step Four:  Open your chilled bottle of oaked Chardonnay and enjoy the frack out of what you’ve made.  Oaked Chardonnays are the best choice.  The buttery oak will pair nicely with the butter in the popcorn.  There are many good choices:  I like Cupcake Chardonnay (about $12 a bottle).  But if you’d like to spend more money Stag’s Leap, Ferarri-Carano, Marques, and Kistler are great choices.  Any sparkling wine that is 100% Chardonnay will work as well.  If you’ve never previously had popcorn and vino together, you’ll be stymied at how you’d overlooked this awesome, simple, happiness-producing combination.  Pop in a nice romantic Blue Ray like “Predator” and you’re all set!  

Method Two - Pancetta-wrapped goat cheese with Barbera

Gather together the following items:

-A sleeve of soft goat cheese.  Most decent supermarkets carry it these days.

-A pack of pancetta.  It’s a cured, marbled Italian sliced meat, that crisps up like bacon when cooked.

-A non-stick frying pan with a spatula (tongs will also do, it’s your choice).

-A nice bottle of Barbera.  Both the Italian and California varieties will work equally well.

Note:  As you may have already gleaned from Method One, there are no substitutions or shortcuts.  Alter my directives at your own risk.

Step One:  Remove the goat cheese from the wrapper and cut it into half-inch “medallions”.

Step Two:  Wrap the pancetta around the goat cheese medallions and place them in the refrigerator.  Chill for about an hour.  The chilling process is optional, but it helps to keep the cheese from melting prematurely when you place it in the frying pan.

Step Three:  On medium-high heat, add the pancetta-wrapped goat cheese to the frying pan.  Brown them for about 60-90 seconds on each side.  The pancetta should crisp up nicely.  Caution:  If you fry them too long, or if the pan isn’t hot enough, the cheese will melt, and ooze all over the place.  It’ll still be edible, but the final presentation of the dish will be ruined.

Step Four:  Sit down and enjoy what you’ve cooked with the Barbera.  Vieti and Montevina are good choices.  But most others will work.    

If you’d like, add in a nice side salad.  This is a really, really rich, decadent dish, so you might need the salad to cut some of the overpowering richness.  I generally max out after I’ve had three of these, but its so effing good.  Seriously, good.  Dirty-sex-in-the-elevator-at-work good.  It’s life changing.

Here's a photo of the completed dish.  I'd have posted photos of the other ones, but they aren't as visually interesting.

Method-Three - Crispy-fried portabella mushrooms with Pinot Noir

If you’re that previously-mentioned castrated guy who doesn’t have the guts to kick his ranty Whole Foods psycho girlfriend to the curb and get on with a life-worth-living, this is an effective animal-products-free alternative to the two previous dishes.  The portabellas have a nice mouth-feel, and are often used in vegan cuisine in place of meat.   And remember the rule of today’s lesson, children:  NO SUBSTITUTIONS.

Gather together the following items:

-A large portabella mushroom cap (pre-sliced is just fine).

-All-purpose flour for dusting.

-Sea salt.

-Olive oil for frying.

-A medium to large frying pan and a set of tongs.

Step One:  Slice the mushroom cap into long slices (unless you purchased the pre-sliced version).

Step Two:  Heat the olive oil in the fry pan.  It should be about ¾ to 1 inch deep.  ¾ of an inch should be plenty, though.  You’ll know when the oil’s hot enough, because when you flick small amounts of water across the oil, it’ll bead off.

Step Three:  Liberally dredge the sliced portabellas in the flour, and add them to the hot oil.  They should be fried on each side for about two to four minutes, until crisp on the outside and cooked all the way through.  Experiment until you get the hang of it.  Don’t expect the flour to stick to the shrooms, like the schlocky, artless deep-fried button mushrooms you’d order at TGF McFunster’s.  That’s not what we’re aiming for.  There should be a light crust on them only.  This is “crispy-fried”, not batter-fried.

Step Four:  Placed the fried shrooms on a plate that’s lined with paper towel.  Add the sea salt and let the shrooms briefly drain and cool.  Serve hot (If they’re allowed to cool off, it deadens the impact).

Step Five:  Enjoy your shrooms with a nice Pinot Noir.  Virtually ANY brand or terroir will work.  If you want to go cheapy-cheapy, drink a bottle of Smoking Loon Pinot Noir ($10.99).  It’s quite good.   On the higher end, I’d go with a Pommard from Burgundy (Upwards of $50, but worth it).  Make sure you open the wine at least an hour before you plan to drink it.  As with most red wines, oxygen is needed.

The Wife and I will often fry up a batch of shrooms on a Friday evening, and stand around in the kitchen eating them, chatting, drinking vino, and scarfing down fresh-baked bread and cheeses as well.  Cheddar, brie, and milder blue veined cheeses are great matches with the Pinot.

Wine Buying Notes

For those of you who are relative novices to wine buying, not all wine gets better with age.  The Chardonnays and the Pinot Noirs that I recommended should be fairly young.  If they’re five years old or more consider avoiding them, as that they might have peaked.  If they have a screw cap and not a natural cork, avoid them if they are older than four years.  I often look for Pinots and Chards that are even younger than this (i.e. one or two years old).   Barbera would probably be drinkable up to six or seven years old.  The Pommard, however, is quite tannic and can be enjoyably consumed well after eight to ten years old.  Do bear in mind that in may need to be decanted a few hours ahead of consumption.

So in summary, these are a few of MY personal “methods” for achieving happiness.    They’re relatively cheap, simple, and easy; and they work.  If you try all three, and they don’t put a dent in the funk that you’re under, I’m sorry Chief; you might be needing help beyond the scope of my abilities.  But I’m truly confident that the “prescription” that I have personally written for you will work juuuuuuust fine.  Eat happy, live happy!

Chew on THAT!

T.S.G.