Wednesday, February 02, 2005


Even more exciting than Bruni's geolinguistic fuckup: Béatrice de Géa's fucking awesome pictures for the LA Times's

superbowl snack story. Extra credit to Times staff for exhibiting perfunctory knowledge of team personnel. Food: not so good. No ass-kissing here! The Chron takes a more promising tack with cheesesteak, except that the versions you can buy on the west coast are laughable, and the attempt to make them at home is pathetic and doomed. You're better off with steak-ums. As for the impossibility of west coast lobster rolls, the less said the better. Furthermore, I just cannot get behind the local blood orange. First of all, the predominant variety is the moro, because it looks bloodier, but its taste is vastly inferior to the tarocco. Second: terroir. Sorry, they just don't taste as good as Sicilian, whatever variety. Watch David Karp -- fast becoming the NY Times's only remaining redeeming feature -- drop some real citrus science.

While we're at it, I'm going to have to disagree with the LA Times's dismissal of Jumilla, though it looks like Jorge Ordoñez -- whose wines normally rock -- gave them a bad selection. But my mild disapproval pales next to the biblical plague I expect Mr. Huge to rain down upon Asimov when he reads this. (This shit is all way too expensive for me to drink, so I'm witholding comment, except for the Paolo Bea, which, sampled on location, nearly brought tears to my eyes).

Elsewhere, Bruce has an embarassing Paris problem; Josh digs buffalo yogurt; Peter Hertzmann offers an insanely detailed (obvs.?) guide to cutting; Clifford A. Wright seems to know what he's talking about, but it does seem odd to discuss Mediterrannean transhumance without mentioning the Mesta.

Finally: I guess, if I was having a dry spell, or coming down from my midlife remedial college experience, or something, I might, possibly, hit it too. Fo shizzle.


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