Weirdest And Probably Least Significant Synchronicity Ever.

I just had the weirdest experience sitting here at my lovely computer perusing the latest news in the global financial titanic sinking mess of an election season (my favorite quote so far in my 7 minutes of surfing: "“If money isn’t loosened up, this sucker could go down,” President Bush declared Thursday as he watched the $700 billion bailout package fall apart before his eyes, according to one person in the room." Very confidence inspiring, so eloquent).

Anyway, in my internet wanderings, I happened across this disgusting bit of indigestible information, in photo form:

This is a photo of a McD's hamburger. From 1996. No no, not the photo. The photo was taken recently. But the hamburger was purchased in 1996. No joke.

How totally disgusting is that? It reminds me of the Snoballs (yellow, by the way - is that not somehow very very wrong to color those suckers yellow? maybe not, cause who hasn't pissed in snow, right? but this, this can probably be considered wrong) that Sara from N&T gave me as a housewarming present in 2002, that still sit on my shelf today. They are dusty and the packing is getting a little swollen (outgassing?) but are nonetheless intact. I'm saving them for the apocolypse.

So I'm reading the accompanying article (tirade, really) about nutrition and how gross and chemical fast food is, particularly burgers like this self-preserving one, when I suddenly became aware of a song on the radio that I thought was just ambient vocalizing is instead starting to sound a lot like the word "hamburger" being chanted slowly and repeatedly. Funny, I thought. I must be thinking about the word 'hamburger' and thus imprinting that on these weirdo didgeridoo-like sounds being emitted from KCRW.com.

Um, no. Suddenly the slow mild string of low consonants and vowels changes and very distinctly prounounces a long guttural "Cheeseburger" several times in a row, followed by a line of "Big Mac Big Mac Big Mac" and I have a momentary out-of-body experience where I wonder if maybe I'm still asleep and dreaming? What's going on here. I'm looking at a hamburger and being serenaded by a supremely not-normal, not radio-worthy ditty: an ode to meat patties. What the hell? What is going on? Am I manifesting some kind of weird trip? Am I creating my universe? Where am I? I must be sleeping. This is too weird.

It only took a minute to snap back to reality and run off to the playlist feature at KCRW.com and discover that no no, they really were playing a song about the humble (lowly?) hamburger. It was just one of those odd coincidences in life, where two random pieces of your day line up perfectly and practically talk at you with a hammer-bang of consciousness. Usually these sorts of synchronicities have more meaning, however, and I feel like I glean something interesting from the awareness of whatever intersection is laying out before me. Hamburgers, however, I don't know. I am having a hard time figuring out what I am supposed to walk away with from this one-step-off-moment.

Any insight you can provide would be most appreciated. Here, go listen, then stare at the above photo while doing so. Let me know what you come up with.

100 Things to Consume Before You Die.

This list is the 100 things that Very Good Taste thinks everyone should eat at least once in their life.

Instructions were:

1) Bold all the items you’ve eaten. (Except bold white doesn't really look very bold, so I've made them red, unless they are blue, which indicate active links to explanations, some of which are DIS-gusting... you have been warned).
2) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.
3) Optional extra: Post a comment at www.verygoodtaste.co.uk linking to your results.

1. Venison - mmm, had some of this fried up in Crisco at Jojo's aunt and uncle's house in a remote part of Oregon in the summer between Junior and Senior year of high school. Right before I stepped on a nail and punctured the arch of my foot through my cheap ass Payless ankle boots (which are totally popular again, strangely enough).
2. Nettle tea
3. Huevos rancheros - what Californian hasn't eaten these? Maybe one's who don't like eggs or beans. Maybe.
4. Steak tartare - tempted to cross this out. Not a big fan of beef, so raw beef? Hmmmm, no. But I suppose I could try a tiny bite in the interest of culinary adventure.
5. Crocodile
6. Black Pudding
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp - Jessica, look away.
9. Borscht - I could live on this for a few weeks. The food of my people. With sour cream. Delicious.
10. Baba ghanoush - mmmmm.
11. Calamari - in many many many preparations. Tentacles and all.
12. Pho - not so much of the beef stomach-y varieties, but some really good rich brothy goodness sans intestines.
13. PB&J sandwich - I think it's weird that this is on here. But that's cool.
14. Aloo gobi - yes, ma'am, veddy veddy good, ma'am. (that is not racist, shut up).
15. Hot dog from a street cart - Before reading "The Jungle" in 11th Grade, yes. Now, hot dogs in general? Not so much.
16. Epoisses - many a runny stinky cheese have I eaten, and from the description, I'm sure that I've ingested this one. The color was particularly disconcerting, knowing that something bacterial in nature came up with the exceptional shade of orangey pinkishness on the rind.
17. Black truffle - but of course.
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes - True story: Went to Korean food the other night with niece Heather and her BFF Spencer (before their shitty car wreck in Crescent City) and among the varieties of wine was Blackberry, Pomegranate and Wild Mountain Berry. I was very excited about all (Korean wine? Fruit flavors? Whaaa?) and settled on the Wild Mountain Berry, because, well, I don't really know. It sounded exotic and wild. Out comes the bottle on which appears the words "Wild Grapes" along with a picture of grapes similar to the one on a bottle of Manischewitz. And guess what the wine tasted like? Yes, it tasted like Passover. But I've had some fabulous elderberry wine in Scotland, so I can at least check this off of this very strange list.
19. Steamed pork buns
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries - are you kidding me? My favorite summer activity in this lovely new state of mine.
23. Foie gras - don't judge. It was in the very foodie San Francisco 90's. If there were protesters then, I didn't notice them. And by the way? It's totally delicious.
24. Rice and beans - More than is necessary, I'm sure.
25. Brawn or head cheese - I wish I could say that I'd not tried this, but since I'm sort of a try-everything-once kind of gal, I have indeed had the displeasure. No likey.
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper - does smelling one count?
27. Dulce de leche - yummo.
28. Oysters - smoked, fried, raw, stewed in seafoody concoctions, scrambled in an omelet, but in general I am very ambivalent about them.
29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda - not to my knowledge. A mix of anchovies, garlic, walnut oil, cream? Into which you dip roasted veggies and whatnot, similar to a fondue. I think I would remember that. Sounds good. And yet not at the same time.
31. Wasabi peas - why is this on here?
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl - more times in more places than I can possibly count. Probably never again, however, considering the wheat content of both sourdough and most variations of chowder. Wah.
33. Salted lassi — Does a mango lassi count?
34. Sauerkraut - not a big fan.
35. Root beer float - best sleepover dessert next to a sundae bar. Also, a bunch of local breweries here craft their own rooty brews, and damn if they aren't f-i-i-i-n-e.
36. Cognac with a fat cigar - I suppose separately doesn't count? Together sounds wretched.
37. Clotted cream tea - thanks, Britain.
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O shot - Yes.... (shudder)
39. Gumbo - awwww hawwww, sho' have.
40. Oxtail — Oxtail soup count? Then yes. Thank you, Scotland.
41. Curried goat - better than you'd think.
42. Whole insects - not on purpose! Actually I did once eat chocolate covered ants. I guess that counts.
43. Phaal - sounds dangerous to eat curry that hot, but what do I know.
44. Goat’s milk - unfortunately (thanks, 1979, thanks Mrs. Gooches). It is not an exaggeration to say that it tastes (or used to taste) like goats smell. Which is to say: unpleasant.
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more - awwww yeah, and I highly recommend it.
46. Fugu - blowfish. Have not yet intentionally tempted death while eating. Clearly something to consider.
47. Chicken tikka masala - yes, and I love it and I must give credit where credit is due, which I think belongs to Tisa Read for ordering this one during our Indian Food/Watching "Friends" nights back in Berkeley.
48. Eel - surprisingly delicious and quite un-slithery.
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut - overrated.
50. Sea urchin - not really a fan, I must say.
51. Prickly pear - besides the one I grabbed off a cactus while drunk (it looked smooth in the dark) and the sliver from the bottom of a fermenty drink, I've not actually had much experience with these.
52. Umeboshi - not sure if it counts, but I did eat one of this that was sitting at the bottom of a bottle of fermented plum sake. And it was rad.
53. Abalone
54. Paneer
55. McDonald's Big Mac meal - I can't f*cking believe this is on here. Even worse? I now have "Two all beef patties special sauce lettuce cheese" in my head. Wah. And yes, I ate many of these in the dog days of my mother's returning to school when I was a child and having to spend a lot of time in the car driving all over the valley for various errands and crap. I'm sure there are still pieces of Mickey D's beef lining my colon. Though now that I think about it, I was more partial to Fish Filets. Good times.
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV - I am not a super beer lover, but living in a town nicknamed "Beervana," consuming things in this category happens on a pretty regular basis.
59. Poutine - this cheese curd and gravy covered french fry dish sounds totally horrifying, but I'm assured it is delish. I'm sure.
60. Carob chips - raised on these babies. Don't knock it till you try it. And no, it's not anything like chocolate, no matter how many times yer mom tries to tell you that it is. But it's still tasty.
61. S’mores - oh, god, how I miss these. Someone needs to make a gluten-free graham cracker.
62. Sweetbreads - sadly, yes, at some fancy restaurant in SF years ago. Eh. Don't really understand why this is a thing.
63. Kaolin - edible clay, huh? Pass. I suppose I'd try it if magically appeared in front of me, but wouldn't go out of my way to procure such things.
64. Currywurst - um, urban dictionary has a lovely definition of this, which I suggest you not click on if you have a weak constitution. "Cheap and unhygenic whore" I can live with, but the rest of the explication is disgusting. In food terms it's a curry sausage of some variety and photos on Google do not make it look particularly appetizing.
65. Durian - our friends Alan and Hillary have sampled this and did underscore the foul smell, but said it tasted much better than you'd expect from something described as "vomit-scented" and specifically prohibited from being opened in many public places.
66. Frogs’ legs — tastes like chicken.
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake - all of the above, like the classy classy Carnie I've always longed to be.
68. Haggis - yep. Definitely liked the vegetarian version better than the real thing, but honestly you mix enough grains and herbs and spices into pretty much anything (heart, lungs and stomach included) and it'll start to taste kinda good.
69. Fried plantain - so so so good. Especially with black beans and rice and grilled prawns or Caribbean fish stew. Especially in Amsterdam and Berkeley.
70. Chitterlings - uh, pass.
71. Gazpacho -
72. Caviar and blini - thanks to that post-college catering stint, a wealth of adventure in up-and-coming culinary and asshole arts.
73. Louche absinthe - who hasn't, now that it's back in the U.S.S.A?
74. Gjetost - This cheese is awesome. Bex and I ate a bunch of it back in the Berkeley days. (Thank you, Andronicos, and maybe Winter for having Norwegian friends and knowing about it?). It's like a slightly sweet, slightly carmel-y cheese. Very very good.
75. Roadkill - I'm not going to be unhappy if I leave the planet without having knowingly eaten roadkill. If you have a few minutes, watch this lovely Top Gear excerpt on the topic of eating roadkill in America. Love it.
76. Baijiu - pretty sure this is the rice wine we drink at Korean restaurants. Sake is better, in my opinion.
77. Hostess Fruit Pie - I really wish I'd never had these, because just thinking about them I get that weird slick feeling on my tongue and the roof of my mouth that inevitably appeared immediately after swallowing. God.
78. Snail - lots of garlic, lots of butter, no slime quotient to speak of. Not bad.
79. Lapsang souchong - for those days you crave the exquisite and delicate nuance of burnt rubber tires.
80. Bellini - I can't for the life of me remember who introduced me to these. I'm thinking it was a Davis Girls event back in college. There should definitely be more Bellini drinking in life.
81. Tom yum - All the time. There's a fabulous little hole in the wall bar down the street from the office I frequent on Mondays and Tuesdays that has a terrific happy hour, including a giant bowl of Tom Yum or Tom Kha for $3 bux. Rad.
82. Eggs Benedict - Especially love it on a bed of spinach or a roasted tomato, or in the case of one seriously awesome hangover-curing-restaurant, on a risotto cake! Yes!
83. Pocky - excellent to serve at Asian themed parties, also good snack for the movies. You Venturan's can get them at Mama Ya's near Target, and in Portland don't bother going anywhere but the mega-mart of Asian ingrediants, Uwajamaya.
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant - shit. How about the tasting menu at 3 different 1-Michelen-star restaurants? In that case, done.
85. Kobe beef - does the Kobe beef burger at Rogue Brewery count? Yes? Okay, done. But I'm not a big beef fan, so it was likely lost on me.
86. Hare - if this is different than plain old rabbit, then no. If not, then I've been there/done that.
87. Goulash - AND paprikash.
88. Flowers - boatloads.
89. Horse - honestly I would have a hard time eating this one if I knew what it was there on the plate.
90. Criollo chocolate - well having read up on this single origin chocolate, I'm now quite exited to try it!
91. Spam - sad but true.
92. Soft shell crab - Easy peasy. And yet not at the same time.
93. Rose harissa - never heard of it, but feel as though I should have.
94. Catfish - Oh yeah.
95. Mole poblano - Ooooooh yeah. Friends of my mom, Tamis and Beto, once came for Thanksgiving when we were living in Ojai and Beto made Turkey mole with the leftovers and even though I could barely chew due to being super sick with a terrible ear infection that the ER doc thought was meningitis, I remember this mole with much fondness.
96. Bagel and lox - Are you kidding? What kind of Jew would I be if I hadn't yet had this one. Plus, I practically lived on bagels and lox in the early college/ free-leftovers-from-Coffee Bean days.
97. Lobster Thermidor - well this sounds totally disgusting, but maybe it's not. I'd certainly give it a shot.
98. Polenta - a staple in my house. A million variations, all terrific.
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee - Meh. Really didn't see what all the fuss was about.
100. Snake - I feel like I have tasted snake, but am at a loss to come up with where or when. So.... I guess not. I'll have to give it a go sometime. Maybe. Mmmabye not.

I'm sure there are million more items that could be added to this list (especially after I remove the ones I deem unworthy of holding a position). Why are oysters on here, for example, but not Mussels (with Frites)! I could probably rant about the omissions for a while, but I won't. Instead I'll end by saying that I will always accept more suggestions, so please pass them along at your leisure.

They Might Not Have Been Whores Back Then, But...

Jesus H. Does this not seem a little whore-y to you?

I suppose it's slightly redeeming that they waited until after Hillary dropped out to start kissing and telling for a small bills on the internets?

Ladies, where is your self-respect? It's going to take a shitload of one-ninety-niners to buy that back, I gotta say.

Yucky.

Bach'ing It

Last month I went up to Seattle for a few days with my grandparents. Joosh (tm Rypinski) was not able to go due to work obligations and the substantiated rumor that we might be renting a tiny little hotel suite or 1-bedroom flat for all of us (I actually have an entire post about this, half finished, as so many things are around here, but it will have to wait). But mostly it was the whole work obligation thing.

As we were getting ready to hit the road, Grandma asked if Joosh would be okay by himself. I wasn't sure what she meant exactly, so she went on to ask if he could, you know, cook for himself, or would he (what, starve? eat cold cereal and uncooked ramen noodles for four days?) have to eat out every day. I laughed and said that no, he's very good in the kitchen, can make lots of good stuff, and even does the dishes. Don't worry, I said, he definitely knows how to fend for himself.

That's very good, she said. It's great that he can batch it.

Quoi? I was confused. Is that some sort of old-timey word for "cut it" or "make it" or slang for survival or something?

No no, she said, "bach" it, like bachelor.

Oh. Duh.

It was so cute how she said it, how matter of fact and proud she sounded: "It's great that he can bach it". The stories she then told about different husbands of various friends of hers, men who couldn't boil water for themselves, who would be utterly lost whenever their women went away, were totally hilarious. One gal received a phone call from her fella asking why the macaroni wasn't getting soft in the bowl when he microwaved it. Without water.

Grandma guffawed at the ineptitude of these many sorry saps and their poor beleaguered wives, and talked about Grandpa's cooking and that it's so important to know how to take care of yourself, etc etc. It was a surprisingly lengthy sermon on the independence mountain, I must say. But very cute.

Well as proud of J as she was (and me, by virtue of having chosen such an apparent rarity), let me tell you, she would be absolutely appalled at me this week. J is in the VTA and I am, ahem, Bach'ing It Up here in Bridgetown. And I am disgusting. First of all this whole working at home thing is awesome, but the utter busyness of late and the lack of anyone to make fun of me for wearing my pj's all day means that I am doing just that. Second, I'm never so much into doing dishes on the slowest of days, so those are piling up rather nastily (especially since my "dishwashing" usually consists of filling the basin with hot water and soap to pre-soak the intended washees, but then totally forgetting about it until the next day when what is left is a chilly, unsoapy, crud-filled, scum-surfaced pond of yuck in the sink that I usually can't bear to attack for at least another day). Also, I put a fan in the window of the living room that at some point blew hard enough (apparently of its own accord) to scatter a bunch of receipts and loose mail from the coffee table (also known as My Office) all over the living room. That was Wednesday. The fan is still on. The scattered items are still that, but perhaps more widely spread around the room.

I ate rice pudding for breakfast. I haven't had coffee in days. My main meal today was chips, black beans with garlic (god, do I admit this? that were still on the stove from the night before.... don't judge) and mango salsa. People, it's bad.

I've decided that it's really not me, it's work - I'm stressing about a project that is going to go live two weeks from today (and will involve my flying to Iowa for two days after Labor Day to train call-center answerers, how random is that?) and not only are there a million little pieces to take care of/keep track of, I just can't seem to let go of all the loose threads and dangly bits hanging out here and there not getting done by others or Indians (ah, outsourcing), and all over which I have absolutely no control. It really could be work. But in my heart of hearts, I know that really it's because I'm just not very good at bach'ing it anymore.

Don't tell Grandma.

Am and Gram at the (gorgeous) Japanese Garden in Seattle.