….I’ve been here for years, 51 as flesh and sangre, 4 as ones and zeros and pixels, if you’re rocking mad STEM. I’d like to say I don’t but I just did. Enough of the wackness from the pastness. Let’s head down to the field for an in-def interview with myself: Yo: Buenas dias senor […]Read More Don’t call it a combover, er, comeback, er, IFLAG en FLA: The Decision 2017
Time + Distance = obnoxious math word problems and no mucho mas. Leaving, moving, mas o menos, on Aprtil foo’s day yo habloed hasta yo y tu comiendo tambien. La familia loaded up the covered wagon (Honda Pilot) and began our great march South to the casa Nuevo en Florida. The psychological underpinnings of this […]Read More Adios Chicago y IFLAG y Mi Sendero del Triste Corazons
Due to a meteoric bad cholesterol rise as sudden, unexpected, frustrating, asinine as that of Donald Trump’s bid for bad President, I’ve been cautioned to cut back on meat and all the other foods that I thought did my heart good because I love them so. Honoring the doctor’s dictate and the family wishes, I’m unable to blog […]Read More The world’s longest elk-chilada recipe
At the current rate of Final Cut Pro post-production, by Christmas 2020, the globe shall be subjected to more Steve Jobs cinematic biopics than those of Jesus Christ, The Beatles and Luke Skywalker en todo. This epidemic outbreak of epic celluloid certainly gives this one pause to ponder some deeply mundane ponderables: Is the […]Read More Bigger than Jesus the Beatles, and yoga pants: Esteban Trabajars
Admit it. Jaws best scene comes when a great white’s guts bloody contents slosh onto the dock. We all want to see a limb or two but instead get better: car license plates, a lava lamp, and a bunch of junk that suggests this great white invented the South Beach diet, along with the Hollywood […]Read More Summer Blockbusters, Artery Blockers and the Art of Turning 50
So these three youthful Midwesterners are at NYC’s La Guardia airport baggage claim abuzz with anticipatory crackish then/Red Bullish ahora pre-embarking adrenaline rush exclusive to both visitors and residents of Gotham and maximum security prisons. What today would have been a text and/or tweet shared among friends we the public actually participated – okay eavesdropped […]Read More The Verdad La Mexicana Comida Esta Out There….
Chef Dinty Moore Chef Boy-ar-dee Chef Franco American Chef Campbells If this roll call of classic American seventies canned cooking kings jars loose more than one memory of the dozens wherein mom and dad, mom and mom, dad and dad, mom, dad, mom and the milkman, or dad and the piano teacher closed down the […]Read More La Babysitter Chow: New Flavor!
The esposa y yo spend far too mucho tiempo @ Bob’s Burgers. Because of my latent tendency to distrust anything popular (breathing, eating and breeding practice notwithstanding as well as the use of the word ‘notwithstanding’ and Shakespeare and sure, why not, music, diapers, 501s, reading, erotica, writing and lists and run-on sentences; the […]Read More The Effervescent Influence of Bob’s Burgers, Frozen Burritios y yo.
Rarely do yo concoct a dish whose brilliance transcends the words I typically choke up these blog posts with. In the case of these here pastrami tacos, only the brilliance of J. Dilla’s ‘donuts’ (the LP and 33 1/3 book, not some recipe) which just so happens to also be the source de inspiration, […]Read More Holy Weekend! Worshipful Pastrami Tacos got made (thank you J.Dilla act 5)
If there is a more all-encompassing gring@ cookbook I dunno it. The revised version of The Joy of Cooking is that of which I blog, not mine. The pre-PC original – on the otro mano – could at least pass for aboriginal. Recipes for vermin, including skinning instructions – IMO – transcend borders and ethnicity. […]Read More Painting the Joy of Cooking Brown con AzChiNMexi Mac y Cheese