Judas sheep

The well is dry. I have eaten nothing interesting nor have I thought about food in any sort of a penetrating way all day. All I can do is reach my hand into the wet womb of mother inspiration, scrape my paw against the dark sidewalls, form a quenelle of embryonic residue, and serve it on a wordpress sugar cone.

1. I edited a piece last night for meatpaper about sheep slaughter. I’m probably not supposed to share any of it, but I learned about Judas sheep. Look them up. They are fascinating.

2. The catfish larb at Thai House Express is not, contrary to many reviews on Yelp, awesome. It’s only okay.

3. I made myself an egg costume today. Then everybody rained on my egg parade, including Dozer who said that Gwen Stefani is already going as an egg. Well, gee willickers, I sure hope I don’t run into Gwen tonight. That would be embarrassing.

Mission Street Food tidbit

There’s no Mission Street Food truck tonight. We’re revamping and reorganizing and (I’m) attending the Voice of Witness event at the Contemporary Jewish Museum.

I just had a constructive meeting with Anthony, though, and I’m flamboyantly jazzed for next week. He’ll have all the info available soon, but let it be known that awesome things are in the works. James the Hater be damned, MSF lives on.

Chris

Estancia’s Big Montana

“I am too young to be here. Everyone is looking at me. This was a bad idea. I’m embarrassed about my cheap clothes.” —Colin Firth in Big Night 2: Bright Lights, Big Meatball

Two nights ago I went to an Estancia grass-fed beef tasting with Sasha and Jordan. What? What the hell is a beef tasting and when did I start going to beef tastings? Beef tasting, beef tasty, Biff Nasty, blip tassel.

The tasting was at El Raigon, a hidden Argentine steakhouse on the outskirts of San Francisco’s North Beach. The bar is draped in cowhide; the room we were in is draped in sanguine curtains; we were draped in a stone-fruity, dry Malbec pashmina. Jordan, between course three and four of the blip tassel turned to me and whispered, “I’m sort of drunk.” Me too, friend.

Gary Snyder PDF

Tony M sent in a PDF of that NYer Gary Snyder profile I mentioned before. The restaurant in question, by the way, appears to be the New Moon Cafe. (Thanks, Peg)

Recession Special

AP Keats tipped me off again today to an interesting, mostly already faded Craigslist NY trend: The Recession Special furniture/shoe/office supplies/knick-knack sale. In other words, businesses and civilians selling off their limited edition Sex and the City: The Movie Carrie Bradshaw–inspired Manolo Blahnik happy meal toys to pay their mortgages. It all makes me sad and nostalgic for more financially sound times and the original recession special: Two dogs and a drink at Gray’s Papaya.

Apologies to this dude, whose picture I stole

More Spanish Tomfoolery from Batallz

via AP Keats again:

Mario Batali Heads to Barneys

Friends:
Chef Mario Batali has joined forces with Barneys New York (Forming the mythical evil Voltron, a beast known as Bartalio) for a book signing and party to celebrate the publication of Spain… A Culinary Road Trip, the companion book (aka Spain… on the road Again… A Culinary Road Trip… A Companion Book) to his celebrated (Who the hell is celebrating? Show them to me) public television series with Gwyneth Paltrow Spain… on the road Again.
Come join us Wednesday, October 29th from 6–8pm where Mario will be signing copies of the book, which was published by the Ecco imprint of HarperCollins. Wine will be provided by Frexienet and Barneys in–house restaurant, Fred’s, will be serving Spain–inspired Mario concocted (What, no hyphenation for “Mario concocted”?) appetizers from the book.
See you uptown!

Bartalio

Check out daily blog and news updates at www.spainontheroadagain.com

Barf,

Chris

More on El Bulli, Bourdain At the Table

Hmmdinger

Jordan pointed out to me today the curious re-appropriation of the Heat warped font design for the new elBulli book cover. Speaking of the eB book, I’ve not had that much of an opportunity to delve deeply into it, but from what I’ve seen, it appears to be as I feared. Case in point, in the opening pages there is a grid depicting the daily schedule of operations at el Bulli from 6:15am to 2pm. I don’t have the thing in front of me, but it looks something like this:

John Barleycorn in ‘08

Evidently it’s been one year since my favorite San Francisco bar was Luisa’d! by the quintessential negligent SF restauranteur, Luisa Hanson, giving way to the as-yet-to-be-completed “Duffy’s Irish Pub” and the below monstrosity in the old Front Room space. Photographed and disaster-girled:

1959, dude? Really?

Thankfully, the John Barleycorn Survivors mailing list is, I’m told, still going strong. This heartwarming message from the latest:

Howdy, friends, just a quick note to commemorate the one-year anniversary of that old joint known as the John Barleycorn….We hoisted a toast last night at Cresta’s, to the Barleycorn Forever, and to all the things Luisa Hanson is missing out on — the friendships, the good times, and, well, the business.  At approximately $10,000 a month, her meter is approaching the quarter million dollar mark in lost revenue and construction costs.

And this morning as I  passed “Duffy’s” on my way to work, I noticed a large cardboard sign duct taped to one of the windows.  I didn’t have time to read it, but it was obviously an ode to the Barleycorn, signed by ”Those Who Remember.” If anyone has a spare minute and a digital camera, please take a shot!

Tastes from House of 1,000 Yings Chineserie

Dad made these and they were excellent.

Delicious, despite the unfortunate brand name.

Back from Laguna, waist line expanded. My dad finally embraced the no-liquid-but-soy-sauce approach to “red braising” oxtails. It seems dicey in theory, but it’s definitely the way to go. So long as you keep the lid closed and the heat low, all will be well.

The Hainanese Chicken Rice Mix pictured above is a workaround for an otherwise sort of time-consuming process. Just mix it in before you steam rice for some fragrant deliciousness. It’s sort of a cheap shortcut, but whatever, you’re a cheap shortcut.

Oh and did anybody else see Michael Ruhlman and Andrew Knowlton taking their penitalia out and laying them on the Iron Chef America judging table for comparison last night? That was über-uncomfortable, right? Condolences to Chris Cosentino, who I’ve met a couple of times and find to be a good enough dude. Making five offal dishes in an hour is a sort of unreasonable order. I, for one, wouldn’t be too jazzed about eating trotters and tripe that have had less than an hour on the heat.

Last thing. If you love non-beat-poet beat poets, where are they nows, Nevada City, and stories about hunting knives being brought into fine dining establishments, there’s a funny tidbit in Dana Goodyear’s October 20 NYer profile of Gary Snyder. PDF of said article has been embraced warmly and posted with complete disregard for copyright law (Thanks, Tony!).

Rad,

Chris

PS. Turns out I don’t have the sweet blood yet, in case you were wondering. Thanks, mom!

Mission Street Food Stir-up

I encourage everyone to read about Anthony’s new plans for Mission Street Food on his blog. I think the rotating indie kitchen idea is another inspired step forward for the way we eat, pay for, think about, and enjoy eating out. I’m simultaneously feeling sentimental for my time as a line cook, and ecstatic that Anthony’s running the show and that I’m just along to serve as a lumbering Igor. That said, Anthony graciously invited me aboard the new and improved ark, and I’m still trying to figure out just how involved I can afford to be without losing my job/girlfriend/hair.

That’s about it. I’ll let Anthony’s post macerate on its own. Oh, except that I want to add a word on James the Hater. I hope that people aren’t viewing this as Anthony and Karen ceding to JTH. To be honest, I think that trying to keep pace with the truck’s growth had as much to do with this move as Vanguard Propertits did. That dude did suck, but we persevered (as did everyone who stuck it out through his spaz and cops doling out open container tickets, for which I think we’re all grateful) and I was really inspired. That’s why I would like to announce that 2,000 Eminem lookalikes and I will congregate at the corner of 21st and Mission every Thursday night for the foreseeable future just to drive James craaaaazy.

A Night Without Armor,

Chris