Does John McCain Use a Grocery List?

So, listening to John McCain’s speech this evening I notice that he says that grocery bills are going up because of tariffs.

Tariffs?

Last I checked, you could still grow a tomato within the continental United States.

Grocery bills have gone up because the distribution system is so screwed up. Rather than grow tomatoes here, we outsource to burned-out Amazon farms and the like. And then we have to pay to get the stuff back here and into our stores. You been to a gas pump recently?

You want grocery bills to go down? Buy local. Buy local obsessively. Help your own community by being an active part of it.

And, just for yuks… when’s the last time you think John McCain shopped for groceries?

The Onion: Diet Book Author Advocates New 'No Food Diet'

Reflections on Food in Art #3

The Dutch knew what was up. At least in the early 17th century.

Booze, bread, and oysters. Oh, man. Good times. Check out the nose on our merrymaker from Shovetide (the big guy in the black cap). You can tell what's going through his mind: 'It's good to be Dutch'.

This scene reminds me of one of my favorite taverns in the whole darn world: The Brickskeller in Washington, DC.

MJ and I used to cozy up to one of the little tables for two and down a plate of pierogies with one of what seemed like at least 500 possible beer selections. As for Dutch beers, I can't understand how a country that can produce a beer as good as Konigshoeven Dubble can produce such crap as Amstel Light. Of course, look who's shelling out for Amstel Light.

Anyway, I'm sure that the Merrymen weren't drinking Amstel. They were probably actually drinking Gin. Local stilled Jenever. You don't get a nose like that drinking light beer. Back in the 17th century, Gin (for awhile) was thought to be sort of an elixir. How true. It wasn't until Gin-fueled mobs began freaking out from the slums of London to the slums of Amsterdam that folks caught on to the true gift of Gin: mania!

Anyhow, here's to Frans Hals. Proost!

Sci-Fi Poles!

Ok, so Dwight has found the World's Best Restaurant and it's hiding in Philadelphia. So I guess both Dwight and PA generally speaking are now scratched of my enemies list. Check out Dwight's blurbing and excellent blog.

Hey Honey!

Ok. More food art tomorrow. Today, take a trip over to City Paper for a stroll with the bees.

Reflections on Food [and drink] In Art #2

One of the things I love about this Johns sculpture is that the subject matter is not just cans of beer. It's cans of really lousy, nearly undrinkable-unless-the-only-other-option-were-hairspray beer.

I remember years ago -- in the days of my impressionable youth -- going to the Johns retrospective at MoMA. I remember three things about that show. First, it was being protested because the sponsor was Phillip Morris. Go figure. Second, I liked that so many of the pictures seemed to me like psychological games. That gave me something to latch onto. Third was these beer cans. Upon returning home, I immediately shellac'ed a bottle of british ale and called it art.

I like this sculpture because in its way it does this faux-autobiography thing. But I also like how it's more real than most sculpture because it is so obviously useless. And I think sculpture should be useless. Useless in the sense that it won't do anything you want it to. It's just there. There and beautiful and there.

Reflections on Food in Art #1

This is the first in a series of posts where we'll take a look at food depicted in visual art. By no means is this meant to be an exhaustive list, rather just the personal thoughts of one simple me to the representation of cuisine.

I could think of no better painting with which to begin this study than Picasso's Charnel House of c. 1945. On a table -- drawn in loose line -- sits a warm meal uneaten. On the floor below the table lies the remains of a tortured family, gagged and broken.

Such an image of unrequited sustenance and grotesque death conjures in my mind a scene from the Aeneid. Aeneas and his men have just been shipwrecked and the sailors are trying to strain loose grain that had tumbled from barrels into the water during the chaos of the storm. They will cook these grains on fires lit on the soaked shore. This marks the first time the Trojans had set foot on land since leaving Troy -- a Troy burning in flame. And as they had left the burning city, Aeneas had paused for just a moment in reflection and shock before the Temple of Ceres, goddess of grain. In Vergil's image, we see the forces of life and death subverted and reinstalled.

Likewise in Picasso's meditation of rage on the senseless killing of the Second World War, we see the necessary and the whole and the true perverted. All that remains is the casserole that speaks volumes more about senselessness and suffering than any voice ungagged ever could.

BBQ is better than Politics

Fantastic BBQ yesterday. There was so much flesh on the grill I hardly had room in which to plop my split eggplant.

Great music -- echoey King Tubby records and the sounds of broken speakers emanating over the neighborhood. A great quiet set of Dobro and guitar w/ Susan Alcorn and Melissa Moore. Big spasmatic noisey shakey music in the yard with Dani and Stu and Bonnie and folks while a half dozen kids and a few adults jump and scream on the netted trampoline. BBQ music-thing Baltimore-style.

And then I wake up to the latest news: Ground breaking journalism from the New York Times this morning.

"Some of Mr. McCain’s advisers said they also thought that Mr. Obama had displayed a number of vulnerabilities as a candidate that they would seek to exploit: they argued that he was prone to becoming irritated when tired or pressed on tough questions..."

Meanwhile, on the other side...

"In the eyes of the Obama campaign, Mr. McCain’s chief weaknesses include continuing to embrace the Iraq war, his support for extending the administration’s tax cuts for the wealthiest Americans (he once opposed the idea) and his suggestion that the economy had made “great progress” in the last eight years."

So there you have it, obviously getting grumpy when you are tired is the equivalent of advocating for a failed war policy that has thrown several countries and countless millions of lives into chaos. Grumpy is the new Bellicose.

I'd rather be barbequeing.

Sunny Day! BBQ! Summer Time!

Going to the first BBQ of the season! Summer is here!

Grilled eggplant (w/ olive oil and a dash of Montreal Steak Seasoning), grilled fresh zucchini, and ridiculously overpriced veggie-dogs ($4.19 -- for the love of god...)

A review is up next post. Right now, it's time to party.

Sunny day, sunny day!

Scandal 2008! My Pirogies!

Alright. Regular readers will understand what I'm talking about here.

So, I've been upbraided by residents of the fine city of Pittsburgh. Just goes to show that I can't exactly put full faith in a certain correspondent in the field whose name happens to rhyme with 'Blight'.

Allow me to set the record straight: Pittsburgh did the right thing; I got bad information (ok, so maybe I should have actually like read the paper or something to verify facts rather than just reference a guy from Philly with a diner fetish...). After all that, it was Allegheny County which I should have been boycotting.

All this information distresses me. BECAUSE I LOST AN ENTIRE WEEK OF SWEET PIROGI EATING!

Dwight, how could you! How could you pass on this faulty intelligence and then let it slide as I suffered through a week without cheese filled potato dumplings!

This is going to take time. I need to heal.

There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Muppet

Muppet Show Glory.

Science! (and I'm calling a truce with Pittsburgh).

New Blog Alert!

My friend Carrie has started a new blog. It's called 'The Stay At Home Scientist' and tends to focus on fun stuff like DIY science experiments and environmental projects for kids. She also has a peculiarly strong penchant for invertebrates. How can you not dig that? Here's the link to her page.

In local news, I have formally ended my boycott of pirogies. But don't think I'm not still keeping an eye on you, Pittsburgh. My friend Dani is moving to your town and he's gonna be keeping notes for me. Don't cross him, Iron City. Or you'll be hearing from me again.

Ok. Back to reading about Fairy Shrimp.

It's not Coca-Cola; it's Rice.

As Americans fret about whether to shop at Whole Foods or Wal Mart, much of the world is preparing for a coming disaster.

American consumers will have realized that grocery store prices are skyrocketing. Thirty-percent price increases in staple goods; rations on bulk rice; prices driven through the roof due in part to antiquated systems of distribution and the ubiquitous reliance on gasoline: these are ominous and distressing signals.

Now, if you live in the US and are feeling the pinch, just imagine if you are one of the billion citizens of the Earth living on less than a dollar a day.

The rice market is the big one. A doomed rice market and we'll be looking at mass starvation on an unprecedented scale. Not to mention wheat. The wheat harvest for the year is gauged to be well off the mark. And what is causing this scenario?

Drought in Australia. American farmers forgoing wheat for corn-as-biofuel. Population explosion throughout Asia and Africa. In other words, as the Post calls it: the interconnectedness of our global food distribution system. In our effort to expand markets, we are dooming local economies. And now, we're bringing it all back home.

CNN Breaking News: Whole Foods is Pricey

CNN has once again broken a major story: Whole Foods is expensive.

The article states that the market for 'green' items may have peaked. A combination of high prices and healthy (?) skepticism is turning American consumers away from organic grocers like the aforementioned Whole Foods.

And now, only 45% of consumers think that organic food is "good for them".

I guess Whole Foods forgot to buy ad space on CNN this month.

As all of us who shop organic know by now, Whole Foods is a behemoth evil chain capitalizing on the expendable dollars of hipsters and yuppies (and the poor folks who have no other nearby option for buying organic). Savvy organic buyers have long ago moved on to smaller organic grocers, farmers markets, and the Internet. The idea that because a gallon of milk at Whole Foods runs $7.00, the American consumer won't buy organic milk is like saying that because a Cadillac costs $60K, American consumers won't buy cars.

If folks are concerned about the high price of organic items, then do the responsible thing: buy them. It's a basic law of economics: the more people buy something, the lower the price will go. Local organic grocers have no interest in ripping people off. That's an easy way to go out of business. If organic grocers could sell their products for less, they would. But the demand has to be there.

If consumers would insist on organic goods and refrain from shopping at the local Safeway or Super Fresh or Food Lion or Wal Mart or whatever your local corporate mega-grocer happens to be, then the price would even out.

Don't let the dupes at CNN -- America's greatest source for selective reporting -- tell you otherwise.

Pittsburgh... how could you?!?

Ok. So my friend Dwight set me straight. I should not be taking out my frustration on Philly Cheesesteaks. Philly actually voted Obama.

So he set me straight. I've made mistakes. I'm out of touch. An elitist. My economic distress causes me to cling to toasted white bread and melted cheese.

Instead, I am compelled to take out my frustration on the city of Pittsburgh. Dwight suggested I say something along the lines of "I hope you choke on your delicious Primanti Brothers french fry sandwiches." But I can't bring myself to do it. Somehow it's easier to hurl insults at the City of Brotherly Love than it is to dog Iron City.

Alas, I must do what I must do.

Philly, you are off the hook.

Pittsburgh, I hereby declare myself abstaining from pierogies for one week.

I think I'll be able to forgive you in about a week's time. Then I gonna max out the Visa at pierogiesplus.com

I feel like I have no friends in PA

Dear Pennsylvania,

I hope you choke on yr cheesesteak.

Love,
Shelly

This is Not Rambling (work, badminton, 60,000 bees, plagairized food recipies)

It's been tough to keep up with the blog lately... with the campaign and badminton and all.

Spent the week working out the kinks on a new webpage -- shellyblake.com -- as well as preparing for a ridiculously epic badminton tournament.

Concerning badminton, I suggest the following: before entering a badminton tournament, do yourself a favor and familiarize yourself with the rules of badminton. It also may help to actually practice hitting the shuttlecock with your 'badminton stick' rather than just tossing it up in the air, catching it, and laughing about its being called a shuttlecock.

But this is all part of the process of becoming more wisened and mature.

On the food front, I'm working on an assignment for the paper. I can tell you nothing about it. But what I can tell you is that 60,000 bees is a lot of bees. Really a lot.

Anyhow, this post is just to say that I am continuing on; I have not given up on this thing. In fact, for your patience, I have decided to grant you one of my few recipes. I guess it's sort of a meta-recipe really. Sort of a completely non-irony-laden recipe that has nothing to do with the absolute ludicrousness of certain people in the American presidential campaign. I think of it as 'inspired' by Cindy McCain (or at least some rouge elements of the McCain website team).

I give you:

Shelly's Quik[TM] Fix Fav

1 part vacuousness
3 parts pandering
2 1/2 ounces of Tabasco

Mix in bowl. Put bowl aside. Go to Food Network website. Choose any Officially American looking recipe (No curries! Pierogies are a maybe.) Make that dish.

Call it your own and serve to jewel-encrusted friends and party bosses. Call other people elitist.

Enjoy.

The Market

MJ was surprised by my reaction to the displays of butchered meat. "Haven't you ever walked through Lexington Market?" she asked.

Well of course, but something was different here. Something aesthetic. You see, I was falling for the beauty of the butchery.

I attempt to shirk off the morbidity of that remark now as I type. But to deny the artistry in the display of the splayed ribs, the disembodied tongues, the severed hearts... come now. Never before that Stockholm afternoon -- cold and blustery, full of the chill that drives you into a store for a scarf -- that I really noticed the translucent pink of skinless butchered meat nor the glassy strange stare of the herring. What's more I never had considered the artistry of the display -- this edifice to death arranged as beguiling commercial fancy.

For some reason, being in the commonness of the market gave me paced chance to see out of the corner of my eye the strangeness of celebrated death in its daily and habitual incarnation.

And then we moved out into the city.

Tale of a Potato Eater

Ok. So I said I'd post about the Swedish markets. Sorry. Turns out a bunch of folks wanted more depiction on the all-you-can-eat-potato joint. So here are a few photos MJ shot documenting the "during" / "in-search-of-escalpation" / and "walking away" / "relevation" moments of eating. Go figure. Dig.

Stockholm Stomach!

So, Sweden!

Let's start with Stockholm. A very beautiful and sprawling city / archipelago, Stockholm has the most varied cuisine we found in Sweden. That's not surprising given that it is overwhelmingly the largest city in Scandinavia.

Today: the Smörgåsbord.

This little joint was actually overlooking a big indoor market sort of in the center of town. Up two flights of stairs and there you are in this big pre-WWI throwback drawing room. small tables are scattered about. MJ and I grab a spot, drop our winter survival gear, and head for the buffet.

And about that buffet... let's just say no one will accuse the Swedes of being closeminded when it comes to all the myriad ways to serve potatoes.

Stewed potatoes. Baked potatoes. Potatoes with cheese. French fries. Something that looked like refried hash browns.

Yup. Potatoes. It's what's for dinner.

There were other things on the menu, though not particularly what I had in mind when we went looking for traditional Swedish fare. Had an excellent curry based around carrots and, um, potatoes.

Did pick up an excellent idea however. One I don't mind stealing. Pitchers of ice-water with sliced cucumbers floating about. Nice touch.

Tomorrow I'll take a look at the market and all the ways to display butchered animals.

Eat More Grease

I'm back. Can't post much at present. Too busy unpacking and getting back to eating grease.