Blógünder Schlock

A while back I invented “smutto.” As it happens High Culinary Inquisitor “Old Wolf” is a regular reader. His feasts of odd foods are something of a legend among those few who have attended his Banquet From Hell, and recently he decided to try actually making smutto.

He recorded the process. Here is the smutto video. The camera never shows us his face, thus allowing The Old Wolf to keep his true identity secret (he has eaten thousands of helpless foods, I’m sure.) This also allows us to not have to actually see the point in the video where he puts smutto in the one and only mouth he will ever have.

When I told John Scalzi about the smutto comic last year (it still hadn’t aired when John and I chatted at InConJunction) he said something like this was bound to happen. I think we’re both amazed it has taken this long.

We’re all quite pleased things turned out as well as they did. Which is to say “no injuries.”

As a follow-on to my last post, I’d like to add that Life is a Point-Buy system.
It’s kind of a complicated one, though. You start with a random set of genetic predispositions, along with some environmental modifiers so that by the time you actually get around to character generation it looks a little bit like your character was randomly rolled.

With most point-buy systems you have to short one stat (let’s say “Constitution”) in order to buff another (let’s say “Intelligence.”) In Life, however, there is a stat that can be dumped almost completely to zero in order to buff the others far above average.

That stat is “TIME.” Spend it wisely. It is never too late to buff your Intelligence, your Charisma, or even your Wisdom, but some folks insist on simply using it as target practice…

A very thoughtful Schlocker sent a gift to me, delivered through wine.woot.com: cheese!

There was a strong, soft, crumbly bleu, a deliciously nutty Gouda, and a chevre (goat cheese) called “purple haze” that I just loved.

Better still, there was a recipe for making horse-durfees* out of the chevre. Mix it with chopped pistachios, olive oil, and ground black pepper, then spread it on prosciutto and wrap it around steamed asparagus. I followed the instructions (had to substitute a deli salami for the prosciutto, sadly) and it was delicious! Sandra liked it too, and we’ve shared some of those yummy appetizers** with our greek-food-loving neighbors.

So… you know who you are. Thank you!

* I hate looking up the spelling of that stupid French word every time I use it. If you’re well-read enough to correct my spelling, then you know what I meant. If you don’t know what I meant by “horse-durfees” then just assume horrible things about what French people will eat before a meal, and you’ll be on the right page.

** I suppose I could keep using the English word, but that drops these delicious rolls of asparagus, goat-cheese, and pistachios in the same category as TGIF’s mozzerella stix.

I skipped out on Penguicon this year (it’s my favorite out-of-state convention), and it’s probably a good thing. All of Tuesday night was spent making trips to the bathroom to shout at the porcelain, and while this sort of thing usually kills a day or two, I was still running a fever and losing precious sleep Friday night, and stumbling around all achey like a zombie on a no-brains diet on Saturday.

Penguiconners, I missed you this weekend, and for this you should be thankful. Whatever I’ve got, you don’t want.

I colored two pages of Bonus Story before falling ill, and then, in spite of the illin’ an’ chillin’, I actually managed to bang out a week of comics on Friday and Saturday. They’ll probably need touch-ups when Smart Howard checks back in for work Monday, but most of the heavy lifting is done.

I know, I know… the buffer is supposed to give me time off for sickness, but with book deadlines crushing me, and conventions coming in May (Hello, Leprecon!) I really don’t want to lose a week just because the new entrees from Panda Express thought so much of themselves they demanded I taste them twice.

When I called my friend Bob Defendi to let him know I couldn’t join his game Wednesday night, I told him I probably wouldn’t be eating at Panda for a looong time to come. “The taste of chinese food on the way back up is one of those memories that just won’t let go,” I said. Bob told me that would be a great first line for a book. It made me laugh, but laughing still hurt a lot.

Sorry for the huge quantities of “Too Much Information.” I’m sure you’ll agree (to complete the song lyric in the title of this post,) “these are the things we can do without.”

Saturday afternoon my buddy R.J. and I went out to eat for his birthday. I mentioned that I’d seen a sushi place hanging their shingle on south State street, and he agreed to try it out.

It was also an All You Can Eat sushi place.

We bellied up to the bar and got started. The nigiri sushi (wee slabs o’ fish over rolls of rice) were delicious, and quite fresh, but the restaurant had our complete and undivided attention when we tucked into the “Godzilla” roll.

I’ll make this short, because I don’t have the vocabulary to properly describe what was going on in my mouth. See, I look for good sushi whenever the opportunity presents itself. I’ve bellied up to sushi bars in Los Angeles, San Francisco, Sacramento, Boston, Maryland, Austin, and Honolulu. You can take me at my word when I tell you that the Godzilla roll was easily the tastiest sushi I’ve ever had.

R.J. agreed.

Suffice it to say that if you like sushi and live in Utah Valley, you need to go to Sushi Ya, at 1545 South State St in Orem (east side of State, a little past the light 1600 S if you’re coming uphill from Provo). For $18.95 per person you’ll get some fantastic sushi — especially if you make sure to order the Rocky Mountain Roll and the Godzilla Roll. Both are house creations, and are party-in-your-mouth delicious.

There are a couple of house rules you should be aware of. This is not a buffet, where high prices cover the waste and gluttony of patrons who want to somehow “beat the system.” You order your sushi one or two servings at a time. You have to eat the rice, too (sushi MEANS “rice”), and if you’re wasting food there may be a surcharge. That said, neither R.J. nor I liked the yapi, a vegetarian hand-roll (fresh, crisp, and not what I wanted). Karl, our sushi chef, said that it was okay if we didn’t finish it. That happens sometimes, and they understand (note: I ended up finishing it anyway, because the taste kind of grew on me.)

Karl was awesome, by the way. Conversational, eager to please, and deftly expert. Sadly, he’s headed back up to the home store now that he’s gotten everybody trained.

That reminds me… there is a Sushi Ya under the same management in Twin Falls, and that’s where Karl works. I don’t know the address (this might be the place), but I’ve met the guy who’ll be serving you, so I’m pretty confident in the food.

Naturally I have an ulterior motive here. I can’t afford to keep Sushi Ya in Orem open all by myself. They flung their doors wide just one short week ago, and richly deserve your patronage, if only so that when I can afford to treat myself to another evening of sushi I have a great place to do it. And if you DO stop in, go ahead and mention this review.

Today was the Elders’ Quorum annual “Guns & Pizza” event. This year, because of budget restructuring, we only had about $40 to work with for pizza, which does not buy pies sufficient to feed 20 guys.

No problem. I volunteered to make double-decker dutch-over pizzas for all. The ingredients hit our budget for $35, and this morning I loaded up five dutch ovens with the help of Cort, Will, and Brian.

I wish we’d taken pictures. We made straight pepperoni, BBQ chicken, ham & pineapple, supreme, and pizzagna pizzas, and it turns out that five dutch ovens is exactly how many will fit in TurboSchlock’s trunk.

The pies were assembled between 8:30 and 9:30, but we didn’t start cooking them until about 11:30. That means they had time to rise. Sure enough, three of them rose enough that during cooking they brushed the tops of the ovens — which I had thoughtfully brushed with olive oil against just such a possibility.

We had a good crowd show up, and they managed to eat 80% of the pizza (mostly by overeating – each of these pies will feed eight). I was quite pleased with everything except the pizzagna. SOMEBODY (we’ll name no names) forgot to add basil, even after talking about how important spices would be on this most experimental of pies. It turned out kind of bland. Maybe somebody should have added a little salt, too.

Oh, and the guns — Mostly we shot skeet. I was exhausted after eating, so I headed home before they headed up to the pistol and rifle range. I hit maybe half of what I shot at, which stinks, but at least I nailed the very first skeet I drew a bead on. After close to two years of no practice, that felt really good.

I’m happy to no longer be a “world traveler.” I spent far too much time away from my family, and all I got out of it was a few hundred thousand sky miles (”Hey! Look! You can travel some MORE now!”) and the ability to name-drop cities in casual conversation.

I traveled a lot in the continental US, and got to spend time in Germany, the Netherlands, Spain, France, England, and South Africa. And one side-effect of all this was the discovery that I like eating new things.

Anywhere I traveled I made a point of asking the concierge at my hotel for the names of a few restaurants that did good “local cuisine.” In Nice and Barcelona that meant something. (In Nice that meant food poisoning, but that’s another story). In South Africa I got to try some traditional tribal food, as well as a sampling of what I like to call “we-have-all-these-different-animals-here-let’s-see-what they-taste-like” cuisine at a place called “The Carnivore.” Somewhere I have a list of all the different animals I’ve eaten. The largest is elephant (think “cheap, gamey, tough stew-meat”). The smallest is mupawni worm (think “crayola crayon filled with fish oil”). Or maybe chocolate-covered ant (think “chocolate! Wait… something’s crunchy.”)

In places like Kansas City and Chicago I got directed to restaurants that did really good steak or really good Pizza. A quarter of the smallest deep-dish pie Pizzaria Due makes filled me up. (My buddy and I ended up giving half the pie to a homeless man on our walk back to the hotel. It probably fed him for three days.) I had fantastic seafood in Maine, with shrimp so big that the analyst we were treating to dinner thought they were chicken breasts. I had scrod in Nova Scotia (”ummm… this is just batter-fried white fish, right?”) and cheescake in New York (”is it still on my hips 7 years later? Yes”).

Through it all, though, “American Food” has been hard to pin down. Chinese food, Thai food, Mexican food, and Italian food are easy — you can find restaurants claiming to serve those all over the western world. Whether or not this is ACCURATE is irrelevant. There are elements of those menus that are consistent across every (for instance) chinese restaurant you’ll set foot in (except in Manchester, where “chinese food” means using soy sauce instead of malt vinegar on your fish and chips.)

Well, today I found it, (more…)

As I was driving to pick up some art supplies, I passed the Burger King on the intersection of State and Center in Orem. The sign upon which they usually advertise specials like “NOW HIRING MAINTENANCE,” or “SWING MANAGERS WANTED” was even MORE tempting than usual:

YOU COULD WIN A PRIZE

I don’t know about you, but if your food is so questionable that you’re going to offer me a chance at a prize for eating it, you’re in the wrong business. Take it to “Fear Factor” or maybe “Survivor: The Suburbs.” (more…)

It would appear that alchoholic beverages are linked to several kinds of cancers (link). Doctor Paolo Boffetta of the International Agency for Research on Cancer announced the results of studies showing the link, and said “Given the linear dose-response relation between alcohol intake and risk of cancer, control of heavy drinking remains the main target for cancer control.”

That’s pretty damning if you’re a whiskey. “Linear dose-response relation” is science talk for “the bigger the dose, the bigger the response,” and since the response in this case is cancer, a zero-dose would be safest.

But Boffetta and his team aren’t advocating teetotaling, because a LITTLE bit of alchohol offers some protection against cardiovascular disease. And here’s where I think they blow it with the numbers game:

(more…)

Ordinarily when a blog gets blogged, the blogged blog is the only blog to mention the blogging, and may blog back. When Fleen blogged Chupaqueso.com, however, the blogging blog was also a blog of topical interest in the blogged blog’s blogger’s OTHER blog (even if that relationship requires the blogged blog’s blogger to blog a fourth blog in his other blog in order to establish the connection). The end result here is that the blogging blog and the blogged blog both get blogged by the blogged blog’s blogger in his other blog.

Thank you, and good morning.