Woo-ha, that’s a pretty good one. It’s already been a good year for Мишка cakes, let’s keep this gravy (err, icing) train on a rollin’. This one comes from a strange, mystical continent known as Europe. Weird! Where’s that? Our new friend Sjoerd Krijnen, who lives in The Netherlands in the city of Haarlem (namesake for our own borough. The more you know!) just had his birthday and he celebrated with this bitchin’ ocular desert.
Special shouts to the bakery responsible for it, Patisserie Elhorst. Keep doing what your doing, you beautiful Dutch bastards! And a very happy belated birthday to you Sjoerd. The fact that you started your e-mail to us with “Hey people at the Мишка Brotherhood of Blood” made my week. You sir, are a true mopster.
Ahh, the munchies. How I loved you. Though I no longer smoke weed (a handy case of cannabis-inspired anxiety put that habit to bed about two years ago), the aspect that I without a doubt miss the most is the munchies. Eating, as for most cool humans, is already one of my favorite things. That a leafy green plant could take the foods I already loved and take them to a totally new level was astounding from the first time I hit a bong.
The trip to the fridge/pantry/deli post-blaze is of the utmost importance, lest you have to venture back out to satisfy a powerful craving of an item sadly forgotten. After all, everyone has that one specific item that they just must have, even if it’s something weird (I knew a kid who swore by cough drops, but hey, it’s his high). Nevertheless, there are some foods that definitely fall in the “munchies” umbrella, and I’ve tried to collect the best here. I avoided items that required using the oven or stove because fuck that, as well as sit down restaurants. I’m sure getting baked out of your skull and eating at The French Laundry would be awesome, but that’s not really achievable for everyone. So, without further adieu, here are the High Five. Man.
Honorable Mention: Whatever The Fuck You Have Laying Around
This, really, is the beauty of the munchies. There are no rules! I considered putting this at number one, but decided that was probably a cop out. Nevertheless, some of my favorite munchie memories are of totally random shit, usually combined with peanut butter or Nutella. Or weird leftovers, like beef stroganoff or stuffed cabbage. Got cheeses? Grind’em up over that shit and hit it to the microwave son!
Fruit cups? Slurp’em down like there’s no tomorrow. Go through a bakers doz’ and ruin your stomach. String cheese, of course, luncheon meats (wrap some kraft singles around them, don’t be scared little buddy), deviled eggs, stale chips magically become good again, weird frozen dinners, that one starfruit, white bread + condiments, and pretty much anything else.
Some people – read: fools – will tell you that you need to take the trek out to your local bakery to pick up some fresh n’ warm donuts for maximum munchie effectiveness. Not the case! Nothing is better than a sleeve of powdered (powdered only! fuck outta here with the devil’s food) Hostess donuts. If you’ve done this before, you will know that whatever weird chemicals is in the processed powdered sugar produces a strange tingly cold feeling (like those weird “cold” gums) in a stoned person’s taste buds.
It’s part taste experience and part sensory hallucination and all fun. Plus, if you’re feeling real plexx you can throw them down in one bite, or rock the whole sleeve like Homer Simpson out of that donut hopper in that one Treehouse of Horror. Also, extremely cheap/easy to procure.
This is sort of my highbrow/lowbrow category. Plus, I had to do at least one actual NYC shoutout. But I didn’t want to be exclusive, so the first option is good old cereal and milk. I would suggest Frosted Flakes, Cap’n Crunch (though those can do some terrible damage to the roof of your mouth if you’re really grubbin’ down), Oreo O’s (if you have a time machine), Cinnamon Toast Crunch or Strawberry HBO’s. The milk will prevent cottonmouth, and then you can drink its sugary goodness at the end.
Which brings me to my next point: Momofuku Milk Bar products in general, but most importantly their cereal milk concoctions. An idea so devious it could only come from the devil himself. Or, more likely, Momofuku pastry chef Christina Tosi. They basically do the hard part for you (I use that term loosely), by soaking delicious cereals in milk, bottling it, and selling it to you for a fair price. Or turning it into a soft serve. Fuck, that stuff is delicious. Plus, it sorta feels like you’re eating something from Willy Wonka.
Alright, so maybe this is my kind of personal item, but I really think everyone would love it if they tried it. If you’re a Charleston Chew consumer, you probably already do this, but this particular candybar is inexplicably not very popular. They also don’t sell them everywhere, and sometime they only have wack flavors. Don’t fuck around, you want the classic, the ones in the yellow wrapper. And not the minis. Totally different experience.
Throw that taffy/milk chocolate wonderstick in your freezer for a little while and then take a big bite. Make sure you don’t break your teeth. Once again you get a fun cold sensation, but within second the crunchy taffy will go through an invigorating state-change from crystalline and solid to super chewy, like a Now N’ Later in high speed. It’s like a science experiment, but covered in chocolate. PROTIP: if you’re feeling extra stoney, chase with grape soda for bonus loss of self-worth.
I like In N’ Out. I don’t love it like the rest of my California brethren do. It’s a very good burger (I prefer the fries, to be honest) but I don’t necessarily think it’s the end all be all. Except I will cop to the fact that it is a fantastic stoner location. It has palm trees, and that funky diner aesthetic that wards off any negative thoughts. The menu is small and easily memorizable, so you won’t have to think about your order or get overwhelmed (that’s the big danger of Sonic).
Plus, ordering off the “secret” menu feels more clandestine when you’re high, even though everyone and their mother knows about animal style and the flying dutchman and whatever else. The shakes are hearty and packed with sugar, but the real beverage choice must be the pink lemonade. They know it’s good, that’s why it gets its own fountain. Grab your DD from those friendly Mormon’s and chow down: you’re in America now!
Congratulations to you, cold pizza from out the fridge, you are officially the best stoner food! Take a bow! Now, when this list started you knew pizza was going to be on it. Probably near the top. But you probably thought it would be fresh or at least freshly delivered. Incorrect. There are myriad reasons why morning/day or two day (don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone) old pizza is much better.
Firstly, you have instant control over the temperature. You can have it cold, which I prefer and is totally good. Want a little heat? Microwave. Fresh delivered pizza is often mouth burningly hot, but you want to tuck in now! What to do? Put it in the freezer? C’mon man, have some self respect. Also, if it’s in the fridge, it doesn’t really feel like you’re buying it (or at least, you don’t have to transact money then and there). It’s like a wondrous gift, especially if you forgot you had it. Finally, given some time in the fridge, the flavors of the different toppings can really marry together and take on new and interesting dimensions. The cheese (and some other stuff) develops glutamic acid crystals for a boost of Umami goodness.
Comedically (though it is not the most emotionally impacting episode) “Fry and The Slurm Factory” is probably my favorite Futurama episode. Considering how tired the concept of flipping a Willy Wonka type story is, the magnificence that is this episode, the first season finale I believe, really cemented to me how incredible the show could be. Whether it be the F-ray, the Slurm Queen, Fry’s inability to stop drinking the super Slurm, and most importantly secretly morose mascot Slurms McKenzie, this episode is aces from top to bottom.
But did you ever want to try the delicious looking worm excretion that is Slurm? I sure did. Which is why I was so excited when I saw this video on io9, where some intrepid internetters attempt to recreate not only Slurm, but also other Futurama faux-product Bachelor Chow, for an episode of their series Feast of Fiction. Unfortunately, I definitely feel like they went with a cop out by making ginger ale and coloring it green. Fuck is that?! Slurm should be almost the consistency of slime, almost like the all-syrup Slushee. So, dear readers, I beseech one of you, one more motivated than I, to come up with a true recipe for Slurm. I’ll suggest a starting point: cook down some Mountain Dew, na’mean? Then get back to me.
You know her from Brooklyn’s Trouble & Bass, but Vivian Host AKA Star Eyes is actually originally from the West Coast, which is where she takes us in this video, premiering right here. Star Eyes tags then takes us on a tour of some of her favorite places in San Fran. Feelin’ that spicy sandwich at Rheas’s Deli and a proper (devil) burger and fries at St. Francis Fountain. Then onto Paxton Gate & Painted Bird to pickup some taxidermy and black boots. Next, Philz for Coffee (ginger snap iced coffee anyone? Sounds dank), hang out in the park watching people play with devil sticks, and getting a little weird at local dive bars Pop’s & Uptown. The weather in New York is frigid, and just seeing the California vibe is (hella) refreshing to this New Yorker. Viv even spends some time with 5kin & Bone5 who has a remix on our Babe RainbowGreed EP.
Speaking of smacking the dance floor with both hands and stomping your feet, getting gnar twisted with bass pounding harder than you may feel comfortable talking about the next day, Star Eyes has brand spankin’ new bangers for you to sink your fangs into! Her latest release, The Night EP, is centered around her single “The Night” which features Vivian’s soft, inviting voice over blissful synths that carry you through the darkness. It’s like she is leading you with a candelabra on some treacherous journey home.
The EP also has a number of dope remixes on it from people like Hostage, Bad Looks and Deathface. Deathface’s remix of the track is pretty craze and a stark dark turn from the original. The beat goes off on a pretty aggressive tangent. And as with everything he touches, this is definitely not one for the weak hearted. You can cop that remix right now for FREE… Just prepare to bang your little face off!
Over on XLR8R, there’s also a web only exclusive remix by Kkoee of “The Night.”This track is super crunchy piece of House that carries Vivian’s vocals into another dimension.
Oh shit, stuntin’ on some baked goods right now y’all! Night Slugs label head Bok Bok brought this doughy creation to our attention over Twitter. Apparently the product of Vice writer Jo Fuertes Knight‘s sister, this Keep Watch cake is one of my favorite Мишка related arts-n-craftz I’ve seen in a minute. There was a Keep Watch cake a year back (along with some Мишка marzipan friends) for the Caked Up art show, but this fondant covered tasty treat looks like it jumped straight out of Adobe illustrator! I also seem to remember that at some point there were some Мишка cupcakes (right?).
I’m having visions of a Мишка bakery right now: eclairs stuffed with blood, Soviet Super Snickerdoodles, pentagram cookies, Cyco Simon’s cycoberry scones, Death Adder bear claws, Kill With Power baclava, Lobster Sweet Rolls, and Bozak donut holes. Perhaps some day. Some day…
There was some slight apprehension in letting me review this record. Before it was cleared for me, Mikhail asked if I “hated” Action Bronson. I mean, it’s understandable for a few reasons: 1) being that our Hip Hop tastes don’t always align. 2) Мишка just did a t-shirt for Action Bronson and 3) He’s been getting love on the Bloglin for a minute… so it’s obvious why the question was asked of me when reviews for this record were being assigned. But, my response was something along the lines of, “Of course I don’t hate that dude!” Real recognize real, and I’m pretty sure Bronson doesn’t get mistaken very often.
I think the first time I heard Thirstin Howl III I was 17 or 18. I had heard a decent amount of “New York” rap before that, but there was something different about Howl. I think it’s largely the candidness of his music, and the way that the artifice of identity never seems to play such a large role in how the music sounds. The raps aren’t subjected to the constraints that come with upholding an image. I mean, if a rapper is willing to make a song “I Still Live With My Moms,” you can safely bet that they’re not playing into the conventions of a rap identity. And while Action Bronson may not be a direct descendant of Thirstin Howl, his affiliation with Meyhem Lauren offers a clear premise for the context.
Action Bronson is following an unconventional path, and that is undeniable, but it’s one that is becoming increasingly familiar as the new Wave of hip hop floods out our expectations of rap. The dude really blew up in the last year, and it’s been in part on the strength of his raps, and in part on the strength of his life outside of rap: buying, cooking, and eating incredible food. See, Bronson isn’t one of these Pusha-T type dudes who creates some exaggerated false identity, then edits all of his art to make it fit that gross exaggeration. Whether by choice or circumstance, he’s amongst a growing community of rappers who are just keeping it realer than the status quo calls for. Action Bronson is the type of dude who lives a robust life, and incorporates that life into his raps. And the brilliant artistry comes in making that exchange between real life and art fruitful—his raps win for his cheffing, and his cheffing wins from his raps. Being a great chef, and having a refined pallet don’t necessarily take away from being a great rapper, in fact as Bronson has shown, they can make you a better rapper if you know how to convey your enlightenment. That’s what it’s all about, rappers convey enlightenment, it’s just that we’ve gotten accustomed to hearing the enlightenment that gets you ahead in the coke game, not the chef game.
It’s about what goes in, but it’s also about what stays out. Drugs, sex, and violence are in there. These are really tenets of rap, and that doesn’t mean that all rap indulges these tenets, but all rap abides these tenets. That’s like the mirepoix, and rap just isn’t the same without them. But after that Bronson gets very precise with what’s goin’ in and what’s stayin’ out. It’s a chef at work no doubt, I mean this dude takes in the whole big picture, and is meticulously adjusting every moment in order to affect the big picture. He makes records to be immersed in. You’re not gonna be blown away by his lyricism, but no doubt you’re gonna be catchin’ lines throughout the record that will make you say “Whoa.” Likewise, the beats never reach dizzying epic heights, but Statik Selektah maintains an even keel that definitely leaves you in a different state by the end of the record. The beats are late 90′s exotica, familiar but fresh.
There is a lot of good music in here, and it’s definitely worth listening to. In fact it’s even worth owning. You know it seems like this shit is gonna last forever the way the Wave has been flooding out the internet with dope releases, but it won’t. We’re in the midst of an epoch rising, and when this epoch sets, this record will definitely be a touch point for a lot of names we’ve yet to hear, and a lot of brilliance we’ve yet to see. Dope work dudes.
Happy Thanksgiving internet homies! I’m thankful for all of you, shouts to your presence! On this so gustatory of holidays, it would seem imprudent to devote this week’s High Five to anything other than food. Though I may or may not be currently sitting in my apartment alone drinking a Four Loko, I know all of you out there are loosening your belts and getting ready to tuck into a mighty fine feast.
Some might say that each of the foods that currently dot your table – whether protein, starch, condiment, or otherwise – is of equal importance and contribute to an overall mosaic of hearty American flavor. Some people are liars. We all have our favorite Thanksgiving items, the ones we go for first before your strange relative grabs it. Here are mine.
Honorable Mention: Next-Day Turkey Sammies
Though not technically a part of the dinner, the leftover turkey and its presence in your lunch for the next week may in fact be the sleeper hit of your stomach’s holiday season. Throw some extra cranberry sauce in that motherfucker (canned or otherwise, I don’t judge) and you’re in business. Perfect for football games that Sunday.
That being said, you will eventually reach that day when you know you’ve been pushing the turkey too far. Sometime near the beginning of December, you’ll throw the last of your turkey scraps on some white bread, take a bite, and you’ll know you’ve transgressed. Remember folks, always practice safe leftovers!
5. Cranberry Sauce
I already shouted it out as a sandwich moisturizer (or sandwich lube, as some of my gully friends would say) but I don’t want to ignore its very important presence on the Thanksgiving table. Pop open that can and slide that gelatinous little lump of red goodness out into a bowl. It’s ribbed for your pleasure!
Or, if you’re feeling more Brooklyn-y, you can swag out with some heart homemade cranberry sauce, which is really much more like a delicious preserve or jam. It’s tart, sweet, and one of the few items that you really only have on Thanksgiving, an attribute that (as you will see) I am particularly fond of.
4. Mashed Potatoes/Sweet Potatoes
First I gotta give props to your regular old white starch, mashed potatoes. If the conversation is boring, you get to fashion it into a Devils Tower, which is always fun, and it’s gluey nature is a good binding agent to keep everything settled in your stomach. Plus, in a roundabout way, it’s sort of responsible for bringing gravy to the table, even though you will invariably end up pouring it over everything.
But the real ‘tater star for me is the mashed sweet potatoes. And if you’re not fuckin’ with the flambé lil’ marshmallows on top of that silky orange dynamo then I don’t know what kind of strange and empty life you’re living. An obvious dessert that has capitalized on its deliciousness to gain a spot as a side, I salute you sweet potatoes.
3. Turkey
Uh-oh, curveball! Not even in the top two? Yeah, I know, I went there. Don’t get me wrong, I love turkey. #3 is nothing to be ashamed of. But let’s be honest with ourselves here: unless you’re really lucky, it’s gonna be a lil bit dry. You can tell yourself little bullion lies by drowning it in gravy, but especially as the long meal stretches on, you’re gonna find yourself dealing with some mealiness.
That being said, turkey can also be magically delicious. I’m a dark meat/skin guy myself, and those sections are definitely money. You can also cook some proper new potatoes (y’know, those little guys) in the turkey pan and they’ll absorb all the good turkey flavorings, so it’s multifunctional. But, though it makes a wonderful centerpiece for the table, and is the figurehead of the meal, it will never be my favorite.
2. Pies
Lemme let you in on a little secret: cake fucking sucks. And yet, it is the baked dessert that we are so consistently subjected to throughout the year. Luckily, no one gets down with cake on Thanksgiving. No, instead we have a wonderful little tryst with it’s infinitely sexier cousin, pie! Pumpkin, cherry, apple, strawberry-rhubarb, pecan: all appropriate Thanksgiving desserts and all capable of giving you mouth O’s. Sorry about that.
The simple fact that ice cream is the universally agreed upon topping for this dessert makes it an even better exclamation point to your meal. Even you’re stomach knows how great it is. You might be as full as you’ve ever felt after the turkey and all the sides, you may be burping up green beans, getting meat sweats, and hallucinating a bit, but there is always, and I mean always room for pie. Preferably multiple slices.
1. Stuffing
The fact that stuffing isn’t eaten year round blows my mind. It’s either a testament to our ignorance, or an amazing amount of self control based on the knowledge that if stuffing was allowed throughout the year we would all be outrageously fat. The Thanksgiving I was at last year had four different kinds of stuffing at it. There are pictures of me at that meal and I look so happy it almost freaks me out.
That’s how much I love stuffing. Bready, salty, umami filled, turkey-tastin’, fruit and veggie somehow containin’, endlessly adaptable stuffing takes all of the best holiday flavors and, in a very American way, smushes them all together violents into one superfood which is then cooked inside of a dead bird. If that’s not Thanksgiving then I don’t know what is. Stuffing: it’s what I’m thankful for.
I recently spent a long time categorizing rappers into candies. Jay-Z would be Snickers. Both are at the top of their game and are, respectively, the two biggest names in the hip hop and candy worlds. Snickers has commercials for Christ’s sake! Few candies have commercials. Kanye West would be a 3 Muskateers: hard on the outside, soft on the inside, he’s mastered and defined three of the key elements of hip hop – rapping, producing, and fashion. Nas would be a Milky Way, a candy similar to Snickers, but without nuts. Sexual innuendos aside, Snickers’ possession of nuts is what sets it apart from Milkyway, and is without a doubt the key to its massive success. While Nas and Jay are both cut from the same New York emcee mold, Nas lacks that business man mentality (i.e. the nuts) that Hova has mastered, leaving Nas as simply one of the greatest emcees of all time.
Outkast would be Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, great together, great apart; Lil’ Wayne and the rest of YMCMB are different flavors and variations of the fruity, sugary, soft (the insults are infinite) Starburst and Skittles; Mos Def is a Kudos Bar (I’m not totally sold on this comparison. Kudos are definitely good, but Mos Def is one of the greatest. The initial association came about because of Kudos’ healthy nature and Mos Def’s socially conscious style of rap. Perhaps Talib Kweli is a better choice for the Kudos Bar); and T.I. would be a candy that is continuously being discontinued and then brought back for a limited time.
Rick Ross is a Butterfinger. From the outside he is a normal rapper, but one taste of his music and the pseudo-kingpin, hustler raps are too much to bear. Much like a Butterfinger. Just think about a Butterfinger: Peanut-butter and chocolate. It seems great. But when actually eating one it’s just too over-the-top. It’s not as great as you’d like it to be. Similarly, the thought of Ross’ neo-mafioso flows can be tempting, but usually it misses the mark. I’ll take Biggie any day.
The rest of Maybach Music Group are Butterfinger BB’s. Meek Mill, Pill, and Wale, they’re all Ross’ smaller counterparts, à la the BB. The allegory falters here a bit, because I actually liked Butterfinger BB’s, and outside of some of Wale’s catalogue, I don’t enjoy Ross’ Self Made brethren. The actual BB’s were great, though. As miniature round versions of the larger Butterfinger bar, they were the perfect dose of orange-colored peanut butter-flavored flakiness.
Speaking of Butterfinger BB’s, it recently came to my attention that these have vanished from store shelves. I was an hour into my discourse on emcees as candies, when Maybach Music’s Butterfinger BB identity reminded me that it’s been several years since I’ve enjoyed any BB’s. The candy-based conference lasted another hour and a half, at which point I dove into my research regarding the candy’s whereabouts.
It turns out Butterfinger BB’s were discontinued in 2006. Another case of a seemingly successful spin-off candy that just wasn’t cutting it, the marble-sized chocolate covered balls stayed off the market despite Nestlé announcing their return in 2007. It was not until 2009 that the candy was reinstated as Butterfinger Mini Bites, which I’ve never even seen and are probably frail by comparison. Today, a second miniature Butterfinger snack, Butterfinger Snackerz, are available, however they’re just a miniature version of the original and lack any sort of spherical, BB-like qualities.
A short online search will yield a handful of retailers still selling the original BB’s. While the candy is definitely out of production, some stock remains from the glory days of the early 00s, that being the product sold online. That supply, however, is quickly dwindling, so if you’re looking to get some BB’s act now. Similarly, if you’re looking to just get some BB’s to send to me, better do that now too.
Back to rappers as candies. A Tribe Called Quest would be Kit Kat. Birdman would be Mounds, because who likes Mounds? Rakim would be Krackel, a classic candy that’s been around for a long time and is still as good as it ever was, but is no longer prominent in the candy community, much like Rakim himself. Lupe Fiasco would be any candy that tastes great, and theoretically stands for something good, but has been acting a little ignorant lately. Wu-Tang would be one of those assorted Halloween grab bags that you can buy. Or Fun Dip; Wu-Tang could be Fun Dip. There’s just so many rappers and so many candies. I straight up did this for two and a half hours the other night.
Big Pun would be a Big Mac. We’re still talking about candy.
This past week I graced two different Thanksgiving potlucks with my presence. That’s rather generous, wouldn’t you say? I always wonder if this weekend, the weekend before Thanksgiving, is Thanksgiving weekend, or if it’s next weekend, the weekend technically after the holiday? That was a very Andy Rooney-like meandering. We’ll stay away from those for the remainder of this week’s debrief.
Back to the T-day Potlucks; I know my presence was appreciated as people gave thanks that I was there. I, however, was not thankful for these thanks.
Not Giving Thanks
I offended all of the people who were giving thanks at this first potluck. There were about twenty of them. I only knew a handful of these people, maybe five, and the ones I didn’t know it was only sort of nice to meet them. It’s not like the introduction was life altering. As we were going around saying what we were thankful for, everyone was expressing gratitude for meeting everyone else at the party. I didn’t realize there was this social convention of the all-encompassing courtesy thanks. I wouldn’t do it.
When my turn came in the circle of thanks, the pressure was on. I wasn’t gonna do it; I would not thank people I just met for just meeting them. I was very thankful for the ones I did know (pretty thankful, at least), but I am not, and will never be a phony thanker. It was time for a joke, I thought.
“Well, to start, I’m thankful for soup.”
Blank stares.
“And genius. I’m thankful for genius. You know, people being geniuses. It’s given us a lot of great things. IPods, and Chicken & Waffles.”
“Um, are you serious?” some girl asked.
“Yeah. What, you don’t like those things?” I asked.
She was drunk. “Aren’t you thankful for family? Or friends? Or the fact that we’re all here?”
“I’m thankful for dogs. Mostly little dogs, I don’t like big ones all that much.”
“Ew. Who invited you?”
It wasn’t a very valid question. Obviously the host of the small potluck had issued my invitation.
Maybe it was how I was raised. Probably not, because who needs honesty, but I just could not give a non-genuine thanks. And I really am thankful for all those things. IPods, Southern food, Dogs – I love those things! To make up for the first potluck’s botched thanks, I really gave it my all at the second potluck. There, I gave some good thanks. Though I did start with that same soup bit. It was more appreciated this time. Man, I’m good. People might be taking this giving thanks thing too seriously. I don’t know, I’m probably just ungrateful.
Occupy a W Suite
“Hey, what are you doing today?”
“I think I’m gonna skip class again and go down to Occupy.”
Again? Bad move. I overheard a girl say this the other day. Don’t you think it would be a better move to go to class in the long run? Well, whatever.
This past week in Occupy Wall Street news it was revealed that one of the lead figures in the Occupy movement, businessman Peter Dutro, has been staying in the lavish, $700-per-night W Hotel. “Fuck a tent!” Dutro may have been overheard saying as he jumped on the bed in his W suite while eating all of the treats from the minibar. Dutro reportedly checked in to the hotel after the raid on Zuccotti park earlier in the week, claiming that it was the only room he could find, despite living in Brooklyn. This is an important step for the Occupy movement, proving that even in times of social unrest, it’s crucial to regroup and order an $18 pastrami sandwich to be delivered by room service.
Russian Politics
As if Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin isn’t already my boy, and a shoe-in for the Russian Presidency, this new ad campaign is sure to secure his win in the upcoming elections. That is, unless it backfires and ruins all of his chances, which is possible. This new clip depicts an attractive young Russian woman arriving at the voting polls, and while she is getting her ballot, Justin Guarini’s cousin rolls up and gives her a once-over. Then they go and have sex in the voting booth for, like, three-seconds. Following the fornication, they show their Russian pride by casting their ballots for Putin as the campaign slogan, “Let’s do it together” flashes across the screen in Russian.
I’m in. Let’s do it.
Simply put: The ad is awesome. The sex; the techno; the curls: it’s the type of campaign that would never fly in America (though Herman Cain is doing his best to challenge that notion). Unfortunately, some Russians aren’t supporting it either. Voting in Russia is supposed to be done in private, as is the case in most countries with elections. Gennady Gudkov, a poor sport from the opposing party, A Just Russia, is now calling for an investigation because, in depicting two people in the voting booth, the ad violates the Russian constitution. In response, people are calling for an investigation into whether or not Gudkov understands that commercials are fake.
It’s been a great week, Reader. In case we don’t speak before Thursday, have a nice holiday. Oh, what did I make for the potlucks? Let me tell you. For the first one I made nothing, because whatever. For the second one, however, boy did I cook up some autumnal treats. Acorn squash with brown sugar, and some poached apples; it was great. Most importantly, I brought a pumpkin pie to the festivities. I found out I hadn’t had any pumpkin pie yet this season. In retaliation, I’ve had six this weekend. Take care.
A few days ago on Facebook I saw a friend’s vitriolic screed about the supposedly satanic spice that is MSG (Monosodium Glutamate, if you aren’t into the brevity thing). “It should be illegal, it kills you, it kidnapped my unborn child” and stuff like that. I felt the need to step in and defend my love of this so misunderstood a crystal. I was promptly smacked down repeatedly.
I now consider myself the MSG version of that woman in the High Fructose Corn syrup commercial who walks in beautiful fields of vermillion corn to let you know that you’re being a whiny bitch, and it’s no worse than sugar. Except instead of a meadow, I’ll be taking a tour through the sidestreets of Chinatown. I moved into the wild and wacky world of deep Chinatown three years ago.
When I first moved in, people always asked my where the real local fare was. I, of course, had no fucking clue. Since then, I’ve slowly, painfully, and with the help of many a bottle of Pepto Bismol, trial-and-errored my way through all the random little Chinese spots in the neighborhood to create what I think is a pretty great roster of cheap, accessible, and MSG happy meals. So without further adieu, here’s my 5 favorite secret Chinatown food destinations.
Aight so all of these places are fucking delicious. The A2/B2 combo at Xi’an might be the best bang for your buck IMO in Lower Manhattan. Ditto for the 10 for $2 dumplings at Prosperity. But since Xi’an has really blown up over the past year and opened a new location on St. Marks, it’s not really at all a secret anymore. Same for Prosperity. Once people realized Vanessa’s was for losers, they naturally migrated down a few blocks to the far superior Prosperity.
Nom Wah and Wo Hop have been bumping forever. So, to recap: all great, but you’ve probably already been there.
The thing people always tell you to get at Xi’an is their “burgers” a sort of stewed lamp sandwich in an eastern Chinese version of an english muffin. That sammy is slammin’, but the one at Henan flavor is even better. Same price, but this one is the size of a frisbee. The toasted sesame seed coated bun has way more flavor, and they don’t fuck around with the amount of slow-cooked meats they throw in that guy.
Henan food comes from central China, and to me tastes as though it has a lot of the same flavors as Indian. Combining those with traditional Chinese dishes is a knockout punch to your taste buds homies. They also have what might be my favorite named dish in Chinatown, the very apt “Big Tray Of Chicken.” It’s a big ass tray of delicious spicy chicken and potatoes and is a must get, especially if you’re in a group.
Spicy beef tendon noodle soup with a side of Fuzhou fish balls. Trust me. A lot of people fuck with Tasty Hand-Pulled Noodle, which is good, but I like Super Taste more. Maybe it’s because I sort of enjoy getting yelled at by the hostess just as I walk in and having to answer with my order before she really starts to get mad, but I think it’s mainly just those damn fish balls.
They do their own homemade knife cut noodles, which have that alkaline flavor that everyone likes, and their treatment of beef tendon is good. They also make a mean Mount Qi pork, which is spicy and sour and tangy and all that good stuff. But the Fuzhou balls are the money shot. That sentence sounds weird. They’re a fishball actually wrapped around a meatball, like some sort of wonderful savory Chinese Whopper. They come in a fantastic fish broth and are like 10 for $2. Super tasty!
