THE GURGLING COD

Tips for men at manly restaurants

Men, if you happen to find yourself at one of the 25 manliest restaurants in America, and a) order a pink gin b) split a salad with your date c) order quiche and d) zinfandel, and e) suck off a busboy in the walk-in, it would be my pleasure to buy you dessert. You don't need to be Judy Butler to understand that gender is a performance, and you don't need to be Naiomi Wolf to get that there's money to be made in selling props for the performance. But the props can become a prison, and just now, there's a bit more of lite beers and for fuck's sweet sake, diet soft drinks pushing manliness than the Cod would like to see. 

The Chicken Hawks of PETA, or, The Dining Section is for p0rn?

Yes, the picture (see left) illustrating the chicken skin jawn in DI/DO yesterday was, how you say... rather Ingres? But like, whatever, bro. 

Except for PETA. This publicity-shy outfit broke its tradition of silence to opine: It's downright offensive, not just to people who care about animals but almost to everyone. It's a plucked, beheaded, young chicken in a young pose." The Cod was not wild about the initial illustration, but this makes the bones in his head hurt (more on those later). The general inference of the PETA beef is that the pose is inappropriately sexual. But, PETA's whole schtick is sexualizing animal rights issues, including a forthcoming porn site. So if selling stuff w/ sex is PETA's meat and potatoes, the only recourse remaining to them to criticize DI/DO is to claim that the chicken skin illustration is the wrong kind of porn -- thus one "plucked" amd two "young"s in the description of the image. I can check w/ my poultry scientists, but if I am correct that a commercial chicken's lifespan is measured in weeks, the category of "young" is not that helpful. The DI/DO image is creepy, yes, but it is not the avian kiddie porn PETA alleges. 

The future of cookbooks? Um... cookbooks?

Eater asks "is the future of cookbooks digital"? They say yes, and to an extent, they are right -- the future of cookbooks is digital, just the way it was back when folks were wondering if cooking blogs would make cookbooks obsolete. There will always be someone stoked about a future platform that will turn your digital Julia Chilld  MTAOFC into a vertiable KITT of the kitchen, because "publishers speculate you'll soon be able to turn the pages using voice commands so you won't have to get your reader dirty." But the Cod's bet is that the all digital book utopia will continue to reside in the future, right where it's been for decades.

Dirty is one not the only, issue, but worth considering. Not even the most sophisticated tablet/iPad/etc, can eliminate the need to bring your sophisticated and costly tablet/iPad/etc. into an environment where there is fire, water, grease, and any number of other things that are not good for electronic device. If your kitchen looks like Thomas Keller's, maybe it's viable, but for the rest of us, it seems like a a dicey proposition. 

The predictions the almost always savvy Paula Forbes makes is based on a "future of books" timeline from a website called TechCrunch. It's either a troll contra paper advocates, "The book is, at best, an artifact and at worst a nuisance," or, more charitably, asking a tech blog theabout the futre of text is a little like asking your Zumba instructor what the most popular cardio exercise will be in 2025. 

The future Forbes sees for "dead tree" publication is an art object niche:

While books like The Joy of Cooking and Mastering the Art of French Cookingwill go digital-only, there might still be a place for the dead tree variety of cookbook. There's one area the printed book has digital beat: the cookbook as art object. More and more in recent years big name chefs have been releasing huge, photo-heavy tomes.  

Achatz, Adria, Blumenthal etc. are the usual suspects here, but predicting a niche this narrow for print cookbooks does not account for how people exchange and use cookbooks. The social relations that are constellated around a cookbook make no sense in a digital realm. A digital cookbook as a wedding gift calls to mind Roast Beef's speculations about how robots have sex; a digital cookbook as heirloom is ridiculous, even if DRM permitted passing the text from mother to son. 

The Cod imagines that digital cookbooks will grow -- it would be handy to have access to MTAOFC while you were on a business trip, in case you needed to poach a trout all of a sudden. But they will displace print cookbooks slowly and partially. At the risk of sounding like George Wallace, print today, print tomorrow, print forever. And many thanks to @pennypascal for the Peerless Photoshopping. 

A Nashville Arthouse is gonna whittle you into kindling?

Via G&G, the Bang Candy Company. The Cod is not mad at what they do. Why does Brooklyn + cupcakes = annoying, while Nashville + marshmallows is fine? It may due to differences between cupcakes and marshmallows*, as well as differences between the respective cities, and that the logo has some Hatch Show things going on.

And they also make syrups, the which they have the heroic restraint not to call sizzurp. And then someone went and did this:

The Thirty Ought Six (recipe created by Patrick Halloran of the Belcourt Theatre for the Midnight showing of Tom Waits Big Time)

2 oz. rye
3/4 oz. lemon juice
1/2 oz. habañero-lime syrup
Egg white
Angostura bitters
Reagan's No. 6 orange bitters

Dry shake the rye, egg white, lemon, syrup, and orange bitters. Then shake over ice and strain in to a chilled glass. Place a few drops of Angostura bitters in the foam on the top.

Custom cocktails for midnight screenings of legendary concert films? Cod approves. What goes in the beverage for The Decline of Western Civilization? What about the Stop Making Sense cocktail? cinetrix? Bueller? Anyway, the cocktail seems like a good fit:

*For one thing, you can go to a show and not see anyone with a marshmallow tattoo. 

Who ever thought the host of a cooking show could get (a tiny bit) crunk?

It's been too long since the last installment of how not to pitch a blogger, but not for lack of trying on behalf of publicists, who seem to exist like Thoreau's image of "lives of quiet desperation," except for the quiet part. But. By way of a general tip, unless you are pitching a show for foot fetishists, there is no need to mention the shoes the host wears. Curiously, with the exception of Mario and his orange Crocs, it is almost always lady chefs. Show me a pitch that includes something about "when  Gordon Ramsay laces up his brogans and strides into Hell's Kitchen..." and I will thank you, albeit reluctantly. But, if you must mention the shoes your lady chef favors, avoid alluding to "stilettos," and then avoid phrases asserting that your host "can cook up a storm in three-inch cherry heels." Three inches? That's like a No Reservations spinoff where Mark Knopfler drives around the USA in a Camry, sampling the fare at Perkins's coast to coast. If you are going to mention the shoes the host of your cooking show wears, don't. If you do, stay away from heels. But if you must pitch your cooking show host in heels, 4" is the minimum. Seriously. 

In other, better, news, did you hear that Crime Mob are hosting a cooking show? No? That is because you do not live in the Cod's imagination. Irregardless, play us off, ladies, won't you? 

 

Nicki Minaj has some bad news about your argument, and its unprecedented lack of relevance

This: 

Sorry. 

Poutine? Je Me Souviens!

I saw where there was a thing, via Eater, that Burger King would start offering poutine. Well, sorta, to judge from the picture. It's fries, gravy, and cheese curd -- bacon is really superflouous, and unless your name is Marcel Picard, don't fuck with a classic of late night drunk food. And the other one? With Angry Onions and Angry Sauce? I think BK tried something with an Angry Sauce stateside, and it understandably did not take. Because it inevitably reminds one of this. But, the bigger story is that this is not a story, inasmuch as McDonald's has been pushing poutine in La Belle Provence for years. 

Er. Actually reading the press release indicates that Eater's lead of  Burger King Selling Cheesy, Gravy-licious Poutine To Canadians was not the story, b/c it appears there is a Burger King Classic Poutine that antedates these poutine perversions. When you look at their former spokesmonarch, it's no surprise there were perversions. 

 

Redeeming Redeeming Restaurant criticism? Or, Sifty Fifty, what's your 20?

In the wake of Ozersky's bluster about Sifton, The Cod suggested last week that maybe the NYT critic does not make or break restaurants in 2011: 

The scale of both NYC and the Times make the idea of the Wednesday review as a make or break for decisions for diners untenable -- indeed a glowing review likely has a Berra effect in the short term. There may be a dowager ensconsed on the upper East side somewhere who never looks at Eater, or Yelp, or Zagat, or whatever, reads the Wednesday Times, and if the review is three stars or better, peels of her white cotton gloves and directs her chauffeur to take her to the restaurant reviewed that day.

However FOC, and favorite resto I've never been to (my EV privileges were suspended for the rest of 2011), Northern Spy begged to differ, see at right. I'm not in the restaurant business, so if these folks take print reviews seriously, I have to take that seriously. Not to belabor the point, but I'm assuming that "print" here means traditional media, regardless of form of delivery, rather than necessarily actual fishwrap. 

To that end, the biggest make-or-break I could see coming out of the NYT would not be the # of stars in a review, but being picked up or dropped from the Sifty Fifty, a much more useful tool for deciding where you might actually eat. That said, w/ Sifton's ankling the tables of NYC for rubber chicken in Manchester, NH, and greasy burgers in Spartanburg, SC, what will become of the Sifty Fifty? Will they have a new name? "The Grimes 49"? "The Just stay out of Professor Thom's, Asshat 48?" 

Staph infections are contagious, or calling all Philadelphia lawyers

It's the kind of day that has the Cod checking the color of his parachute. One job I would be good at is being a social media consultant for (allegedly) douchey chefs. Here is my advice: "If an anonymous blogger calls you a scumbag, don't sue him and make the allegation into news." (Chefs -- if you are reading this, look for an invoice 7-10 days after someone calls you a scumbag and you choose not to sue them.)

Based on this situation in Philly, I might add "hire a lawyer who understands libel law when you file a libel suit." The attorney representing the alleged scumbag: 

"It’s not our intention to infringe on the protected right of free speech, but it is our intention to hold people accountable for defamation," Cohen told us earlier.

"These kids don’t seem to understand there is a real difference between being a professional journalist working within the bounds of the law and being an uninformed, immature anonymous typist," says Cohen, who is refered to as "a douche," on Staph Meal since engaging in legal threats with the blogger.

The Cod is not a lawyer, but if being an uninformed, immature or even anonymous typist prevents you from being a professional journalist, then the newsrooms of America would be even emptier than they are. More seriously, the distinction the lawyer draws points to a problem w/ all media, but esp w/ food, (and maybe sports). The pros are the ones with the access, and can be trusted to play by the rules, and say nice things almost all the time. The "anonymous typists" tend to be on the outside, and say what's on their minds, b/c why the fuck not?

Like I said, a mistake to bring the suit in the first place, and a bigger mistake to hire a lawyer who implies that cozy relationships w/ big name chefs are a prerequisite for being a real food writer. 

Welcome thoughts anon or non, from lawyers on the merits of the case. 

Guiteau Monday Bonus -- new fautisanal pickles from Vlasic!

Some of you may guess that the Cod has a dog in the artisanal pickle fight. That may or may not have led  to the tweet recaptured at right.

This reflection was inspired by the product pictured at left,  from the new "Farmer's Garden by Vlasic" collection. That's our crib in the background -- I did buy a jar out of curiosity. They are not bad -- the "zesty garlic halves" taste like regular Vlasics, but a bit zestier. Not mad at that. But the packaging and the whole project are, you know, suspect: 

Seventy years ago, pickling pioneer Joseph Vlasic created special pickle recipes using fresh, locally grown cucumbers and hand-picked herbs and spices. Today, our new Farmer's Garden™ by Vlasic® celebrates these authentic farm recipes so that you too can taste the delicious freshness of these creations.

Farmer's Garden™ by Vlasic® are made with the finest U.S.-grown cucumbers harvested at the peak of freshness, married with specially selected natural ingredients and hand-packed and chilled within days to bring you the perfect premium pickle.

Delivered from the farm to your local grocer's produce section, Farmer's Garden™ by Vlasic® artisanal-quality pickles is for anyone who enjoys honest ingredients and bold fresh taste.

So, they used to make good pickles, then got into the lucrative business of making lots of not as good pickles, and now are going back to their roots of making good pickles like it was a Dylan solo acoustic tour or something? A Big Food player like Vlasic trying to make a move in an artisanal market seems like a thing that should have a name, in the way that pushing an agenda via a fake grassroots group is called "astroturfing." I'll go with "faustisanal" until someone comes up with something better.  

But! Clicking around the site in an effort to get a handle on what, exactly, the deal with Farmer's Garden (TM) is, came across their guest bloggers, a couple named Todd Porter and Diane Cu. So far, so good. Except their blog is called "White on Rice Couple." Because Todd is white, and Diane is Asian! Get it? It's after five, but sometimes, Guiteau Monday works overtime.