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.

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Honorable Mention (Tie): Xi’An Famous Foods, Prosperity Dumpling, Nom Wah Tea Parlor, and Wo Hop

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.

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5. Henan Flavor 68 Forsyth at Canal

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.

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4. Super Taste 26 Eldridge at Canal

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!

Hit the jump for the rest!

(more…)

The self declared “ice cream of the future” will soon be a thing of the past. Dippin’ Dots are not yet technically missing, but with the company just recently declaring bankruptcy, and their availability having been sparse as of late, let us provide a preemptive retrospective for Dippin’ Dots.  This way, we can perhaps avoid the inevitable, “Hey, what ever happened to Dippin’ Dots?”

Created in 1987, the cryogenically frozen snack is like a spin-off of ice cream. The beads are infused with nitrogen and stored at temperatures ranging from -20 to -70°F in order to retain their spherical shape. The snack was initially meant to accompany regular ice cream in the same way as the popsicle, though that never quite came to fruition. While popular in specialty markets such as theaters and amusement parks, Dippin’ Dots have always been more of a novelty treat. I certainly have never known anyone to prefer the dots over normal ice cream. If I had, I would have ended such a friendship.

Dippin’ Dots represent the opulent excess and overindulgence of America’s wealthy, and the radical class divide that exists within our nation.

Not really. Dippin’ Dots just represent the attempt to change something that is already perfect; namely, ice cream. I have never really liked Dippin’ Dots. I’ve certainly never craved them. I’ve had them a few times, and they’re fine, but never would I choose them over ice cream, or even desire them in the way that you sometimes desire a popsicle instead of ice cream. The Kentucky company sought to deliver the ice cream of the future, but there was no market for such a futuristic product. Nobody wanted normal ice cream to become a thing of the past.

Not to say that Dippin’ Dots did not create its own niche market out of idiots who like inferior snacks, but time has indeed proven that most people would rather have traditional ice cream. The Dippin’ company was also plagued by an error in its patent, with a court eventually ruling it “unenforceable,” allowing other companies to produce the same product and profit from the same market. This logistical error, along with the simple fact that few venues outside of amusement parks and theaters have freezers cold enough to sustain the cryogenically chilled dots, is what kept the Dippin’ Dots company from making much money, driving them to their present bankruptcy.

In speaking of the future of the frozen treat, Steve Heisner, director of administration for Dippin’ Dots, said, “The dot, it’s going to be there. There’s no doubt about it.” Unfortunately, there is totally a doubt about it. Not only will the dot not be in the unspecified future-occurring “there” of which Heisner speaks, but it will likely not even be there in the next five years. Don’t agree? Prove me wrong, Reader. Or should I say, Consumer.

It works out poorly for me that after researching about, and looking at pictures of Dippin’ Dots, I could really go for some now.

That’s a shame.

After investigating a slew of missing snack foods from the ’90s, it is safe to say we may have found them all, or otherwise deemed them lost forever. With that, let us turn our attention to snacks that are very much still with us today, but perhaps do not receive the type of attention that they should. With that, I present the new segment, Edible Spotlight.

Today the spotlight is on Delicje cookies. I recently received a surplus of these cookies as a gift, and being that I had never tried these, I was excited. Too excited, most likely. You see, I love treats: cookies, candy, pastries, bunt cakes; you name it, I probably like it a whole lot. Sometimes when I’m in the mood for something sweet I’ll say to someone, “Hey, let’s get a tasty treat.” They’ll usually say something like, “Shut up, dude. Just say, ‘snack.’” I never pay them much mind.

Delicje cookies are composed of three elements. First, there’s the soft, sponge cookie bottom, followed by fruit-flavored jelly on top and then coated in milk chocolate. I had about six packages of them. There was cherry, orange, apricot, lemon, raspberry, and apple. There might have only been five packs, now that I think about it, because I can’t recall what apple tasted like. I started with the apricot pack, on account of I love apricots. From the first bite I knew that this was not your average cookie. Delicjes are soft — very soft — and the combination of the artificial fruit flavor and the chocolate coating produced a weird taste.

That being said, I liked them.

Originally from Poland, the US producer of these bizarre treats is none other than Kraft Foods, which, as we all know, was started by a gang of witches and still uses witchcraft today to create their products. The cookies come in packs of ten, and before I knew it, I had eaten all fifty of the small, weird biscuits. The strangest thing about Delicje cookies, besides the “j”-following-a-”c” spelling (which, yes, it’s a Polish word, but whatever), is the texture of the jelly filling. It’s not just a loose jelly, held in place by the chocolate, it’s more like a jelly medallion.

Like I said, I liked these. However, I can’t actually imagine myself ever purchasing a pack. I ate them all, yes, but honestly you could put any kind of cookie in my house and it would be gone within a matter of hours. These just have such a weird texture, and as far as jelly filled cookies go, there are so many to choose from! I, myself, have always been a fan of the Pepperidge Farm Verona. Now that’s a cookie.

“Edible Spotlight.” I like that. Initially, I was going to call this segment “Eat That Treat!” but that sounded too demanding. And while I initially said that this segment would feature snacks that do not receive proper attention, I am amending that mission statement. Edible Spotlight will highlight both good and bad snacks. Of the good, there will be underrated treats, and of the bad there will be odd, disconcerting treats, sort of like Delicje cookies. And maybe sometimes we will even focus on actual edible sources of light. Probably not, but you never know.

I can trace my obsession with pizza back to my adolescent obsession with Ninja Turtles. The Turtles were down with pizza, so I was down with pizza. Then in high school I got a job at Pizza Hut – meaning I got free pizza whenever the hell I wanted. A decade later, I still consume pies like there’s no tomorrow. After years of unwavering devotion to the almighty slice, I have an anthem.

“Pizza Party” by the comedy group Fly Guys is a delicious parody of Waka Flocka’s “Grove St. Party,” and for a pizza-eating slob like me it strikes me right in my pepperoni heart. This song makes me want to down a slice and kick the shit out of someone…AT THE SAME TIME

Let us now continue our discourse on delicious fall recipes. With only two weeks of apple picking remaining (as I was greaciously informed by Time Out New York) it’s imperative that you make this recipe as soon as possible. Or you could always just go to the store and get some apples there, in which case you can wait a while on this dish. Either/or, really.

With that, let me begin with an anecdote regarding the last time I prepared this dish. It was but two weeks ago I went apple picking, intending to gather apples for this very recipe. It was nice. I wore an orange sweater; it was festive. In order to obtain certain types of apples that grew farther out in the orchard, the farm provided a shuttle. Essentially: a free tractor ride. It was great. I like tractors a lot, and there was a dog on board. What was less than great, was the double date happening next to me on the tractor. Now, I am a huge proponent of not only double dates, but PDA too; unfortunately, this was something else all together. This was bizarre; a bizarre sight, indeed. The two female participants of the double date appeared to be about sixteen in age, while the men, on the other hand, were twelve. Straight up, they looked twelve years old. (I know, in actuality they were all the same age, and it’s the whole thing about how girls mature faster than guys, yada, yada, whatever.) And so, this just goes to show you that everybody like apples.

Now, onto the recipe. This will be the main course in our autumnal meal, falling in between The Salted S’more and an appetizer dish that we will look at in a few weeks. Here’s what you’re going to need:

• apple cider
• 1 apple, peeled, cored, cut into 1/4–inch–thick slices
• 3 fresh thyme sprigs plus some chopped fresh thyme
• 8 3/4–inch–thick lamb rib chops
• vegetable oil
• aged balsamic vinegar
• butter
• chopped fresh oregano
• chopped fresh rosemary
• salt
• pepper

Additionally, you may use dry thyme instead of fresh, because sometimes you just can’t buy fresh thyme. Once the apples are tender, strain the juices into a bowl or container, and keep them and the apples separate. The apples can only take so much inbreeding. But really: keep them separate and do not discard the juices.

Now, sprinkle the lamb chops with pepper and salt (why does the salt always come first in that pairing? Let’s give pepper a moment in the spotlight) and heat the veggie oil, about a tablespoon worth, in a large skillet over medium high heat. Add the lamb and cook until desired doneness. Remember, Reader, you must cook the chops on both sides.

Lamb Chops can be expensive, I know, and while they are a rather essential part of The Apple Lamp Chops dish, you may substitute them for pork chops, if necessary.

Once cooked, place the chops on a serving platter, pour the drippings from the pan onto the meat, and then place the pan on the stove over a medium-high heat. Now comes the best part. Add the apple cider that we used before, that you so humanitarianly separated from the apples, and boil down to 1/4 cup. This should take about two minutes. Next, remove the pan from the stove and add a tablespoon of balsamic vinegar, a tablespoon of butter, the chopped thyme, oregano, and rosemary, and scrape up any browned bits left in the pan.

This is the perfect meal to make for that special someone, as I’m sure my twelve year-old fellow tractor riders did. Or they at least got one of their mothers to make it for them. No disrespect to mothers, of course; that’s how I learned to make this recipe. And though you may not realize it yet, Reader, this is just a small part of the ultimate autumnal romantic evening meal. It’s going to really be something. Now go get yourself a cup of cider, make a grocery list, and get ready to really impress somebody with your cooking skills.

I’ve been a little disconnected this week, Reader; a lot to do, you know? And being that the case, I’ve sort of fallen behind with what’s going on in the world. Let’s see what we can come up with though as we recap the week in pop culture and current events (Hip Hop and things I did with food).

Politics: The Occupy Wall St. movement continued, this week featuring guests Kanye West and Russel Simmons. Both Hip Hop icons have been incredibly financially successful, but nevertheless went down to Wall St. to show support. There, it became apparent that Russel Simmons had been anointed Kanye’s pubicist, speaking to the press on his behalf. How it was decided that they would go down there and Rus would speak for Kanye I can only imagine, but West is clearly still in a difficult position when it comes to the media and their perception of his personal opinion.

There are still a lot of people in this country that either have not forgiven West for the VMA debacle, or never liked his egotism in the first place. And I often forget that. After first seeing the above video on various Hip Hop blogs, I visited some non-music-related publications to see just what people were saying about West’s visit to Wall St. Over at New York Magazine, it was clear through the comments that, not only do people still not like Kanye, they’re confused as to the difference between corruption and earned success. Various commenters called for West to distribute his own wealth and criticized him for attending the protest adorned with high priced clothing and jewelry. People seem to forget that Kanye in no way started out wealthy and worked hard to earn his money. He should distribute his wealth, despite accumulating it fairly, just because other people are not wealthy? This would be in direct contradiction to capitalism: work hard and make money so that once you’ve made enough you are forced to get rid of it. Similarly, he should dress down for the benefit of who, the protestors? One can support a cause while simultaneously not belonging to the group that is leading that cause (see: Civil Rights).

In the end I came upon this comment by Dagon2465, saying:

“I am surprised he did not interrupt Occupy Wall Street and say,”I’m sorry,’ but Beyoncé had one of the best videos of all time.’ just sayin”

You’re just saying? You’re just an idiot. That wasn’t even clever.

Food: In honor of my late cousin, Steve Jobs, I went apple picking this week. It was quite a beautiful scene, Reader. The trees: they were orange. My sweater: orange, too. I would’ve worn my brown jeans, had they not recently been lost in the mail (more on that in a moment).

While out in the orchard I picked apples of the Granny Smith variety, some Empire, and then even some third type whose name I didn’t care enough to remember, and then I made an awesome meal of lamb chops and poached apples in an apple cider balsamic reduction sauce. Look for the recipe this week.

Music: The BET Awards happened. They were as lame as usual, and the cyphers, with some participating emcees sounding great and others sounding idiotic, were as mixed as usual. One cypher though, featuring Eminem, Slaughterhouse, and Yelawolf was incredible.

They all delivered some fantastic verses, but particularly Em and Royce’s were outstanding, with Eminem’s false beginning making fun of over-syllabic underground emcees.

Science: This is might be bizarre; on the other hand, it might be fake. This twenty-three year old Vietnamese woman is claiming that she has somehow aged fifty years (approximately, of course) in a matter of days, now appearing to be in her mid-seventies.

Truth or fiction?

The conspiracy theorist side of me says that it is indeed the rare disease mentioned in the video. The other, conflicting conspiracy theorist side of me thinks that it’s a hoax, and this woman wants some free surgery. You decide.

Death: This is truly unfortunate. My brown jeans — my favorite brown jeans — have been lost in the mail. This morning I went to the Post Office to investigate the disappearance (see if my package was just sitting in the back). Man, what a shit hole that place is. It’s a common conception, that the Post Office is a dismal, depressing, hellish place. And as it turns out, that conception is one hundred percent true.

However, it’s not just the Postal workers that make visiting the Post Office more depressing than getting your Halloween candy stolen at the end of a fruitful night of trick-or-treating, but the visitors of the Post Office. There are some real sad sacks in that bunch, but the worst of them are the people who, like yourself, despise the Post Office, but feel the need to rally with you against it. They want to talk with you, converse, and get you to empathize with them. I observed one woman in particular on this fine morning attempt many a wait-and-whine with people around her. Finally she caught the eye of someone close to the front of the line, and from the middle of the thirteen person file she began a conversation.

“They’ve had a package of mine here since September 2005 and I just got a slip for it!”

“No way! That’s insane!”

“Oh, wait. I meant September 5.”

Seriously? That’s totally different. That’s the different of a month and six years. You just blew any chance of empathy so fast.

In summation, there must have been have been a number of happenings that I missed out on this week. Could there have really only been three things that happened this week, one of which was my trip to the apple orchard? No, I doubt it, Reader. There must have been more. That’s what happens sometimes, though; sometimes you miss things. Oh well.

Weekly Rating: 3 Lamb Chops (out of however many chops are typically on a rack)

With fall now upon us, I do believe, Reader, that you are ready for another cooking lesson. It should be known that fall is my favorite season; in addition to the lovely weather, the beautiful scenery, the chance to wear sweaters, and the high volume of holidays, we get outstanding seasonal ingredients to work with! I have some particularly wonderful recipes to present to you as the season progresses, but tonight let us get started with a simple dessert, namely, my special Salted S’more.

• 1 Graham cracker
• 1 Piece of chocolate (milk or dark)
• 1 Marshmallow
• Sea salt
• Optional: Some kind of caramel sauce
• Wooden skewers
• A spatula
• A stove to make this bad boy on (please do not let ignorance corrupt you into thinking that S’mores can only be made while camping around a campfire)

Next, take one half of the graham cracker and slide the chocolate on top. Now comes the next essential part: Take your sea salt and drizzle a little bit on top of the chocolate. Not too much, otherwise the salt will overpower the dessert, but just a good, generous pinch. Go ahead now and take your skewered marshmallow and cook it over the flame, making sure to slowly twirl the skewer in your fingers so as to not burn the mallow or let it catch fire. Another note: Do not let the mallow become burnt and blackened, as that is unhealthy. Once it is cooked to your liking, take it off the flame, and rest it on top of the salted chocolate. Then place the other half of the graham cracker on top of the collection of ingredients, apply some pressure, and gently twirl the skewer while removing it from the mallow.

And that’s it. Now sit down and enjoy your S’more! Might I also suggest a nice glass of milk to go along with your dessert. And don’t forget, of course, to clean up afterwards, or to otherwise find someone that you can bully into cleaning up after you.

Remember, Reader, this is only the beginning of fall, but being such a short season, we’ve got to make the most of these autumnal recipes. Now that you’ve got a delicious, wonderful dessert under your belt, we can relax a bit, but we should not under any circumstance let our guard down. Next week we’ll look at a wonderful fall entree, and the following week, my special fall salad. You see what’s going on here, Reader? It’s backwards. The order’s backwards. Dessert, then entree, then appetizer — it’s really something, isn’t it? It’s genius, really.

Well not actually Doritos per-say, but their creator, Arch West has done died. Kinda weird to think that someone invented Doritos, but I guess everything was invented by someone somewhere… and someone had to come up with the bright idea to prepackaged nachos.

I actually didn’t realize Doritos were the first of their kind. Growing up in New York I was more accustomed to seeing Wise Bravos and actually thought they pre-dated Doritos. But what did I know? I was a stupid kid. Anyway, Dude who invented Doritos is dead, read more about his legacy over here. Now go out and bust open a bag of cool ranch in his honor.

So everyone’s favorite hypeman, Ashok Kondabolu AKA Dapwell from Das Racist has launched his own web show called Chillin Island. Chillin Island is kinda like when we did The Creepy Touch but obviously waaaay chiller ’cause Daps isn’t a creep like Nick Gazin. But anwyay…

Episode one features Slice Harvester, who’s made it his life’s mission to sample a slice from everyone of New York City’s gaziilion pizza joints. In addition to his blog he even publishes a little zine about his cheese and tomato sauce filled exploits. What a life! This episode also features the DR crew chillin’ in Hawaii and New Orleans; Dap getting a haircut while drunk; A trip to Home Depot and a visit with Big Baby Gandhi.