EATFREAK

FAB HOT DOGS review / LA STREET DOG RANT

I recently had a fight with an asshole. Not the kind of fight where you beat each other up and bleed and stuff – the kind of fight where you swear a lot and yell about hot dogs. Said asshole was originally from New Jersey, now living in Los Angeles. We were at a bar drinking after seeing some friends play when he spoke up and said “You know what the problem with Los Angeles is?” For the record – never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever make the mind bogglingly stupid mistake of starting out a conversation like this with me. My only response was to clear my throat and brace for impact. He continued “There’s not a single fucking Hot Dog in this town worth a good goddamn”. As I explained before, I did not hit him in the mouth (the appropriate response). I did however murder his entire immediate family in my head. He went on to proclaim that Los Angeles not only had no good Hot Dogs to offer, but no history of hot dogs to offer – no relationship with this great american street food. At this point I took a moment to remind myself there’s no need to be angry at the weak of mind – they don’t know any better. By the time he’d ended his initial tirade He had gone so far as to announce that you couldn’t find a decent hot dog outside the tristate area, at which point I interjected “If you’re finished embarrassing yourself, I’ve got good news. You have no idea what your talking about, and Los Angeles has a fantastic history, generous range of offerings, and a very unique hot-dogial identity, cock sucker” …

None of this actually happened. I think I said something like “Nu-Uh, You’re Stupid”, and ran away crying. Before doing so though – I did boldly defend the honor of Los Angeles’ own beloved Street Dog. He made the horrible horrible mistake of insulting said exquisite culinary past time. I think that’s when I called him a stupidhead … I don’t remember the details … whatever

Here’s the point folks. As I’ve explained before, I care very passionately about two separate subjects AND equally passionate about where those two subjects collide. One being the Beautiful City of Los Angeles – The other being The Incredible American Hot Dog. Where those two things collide is on the side of the street at 2 in the morning outside a bar, or out in front of the parking violations bureau in 100 degree weather, or at the gates of your local flea market at 9AM. I am of course talking about the LA Street Dog. Grilled on a cheap ass cart right in front of you by a 200 year old Bad Ass Mexican Man, or a 700 year old Beautiful Mexican Grandmother, wrapped in bacon, smothered in a mixture of grilled onions and peppers, topped with pickled jalapenos, and drowned in mustard, mayo, and maybe ketchup (probably not).

I’ll save going into extreme detail concerning my undying love for this dish until a further post, but before I move on to the actual body of this post, let me impart this one message to you, dear reader. The next time you are present as any individual attempts to disrespect the deep relationship between Hot Dogs and The City of Los Angeles, I implore you – Kick Their Fucking Teeth In.

NOW – let’s get down to business. I am making a point of checking out Hot Dog joints around Los Angeles and judging their integrity. Fab Hot Dogs has been making some serious waves lately, and it was high time I made the trek out to Reseda to see for myself just what the hell was going on.

I arrived at the their Reseda strip mall location exactly 6 minutes after opening to find the place completely packed to death. I took the very last seat available. This was a week day mind you. I had already checked out their menu selections on their website (which I recommend as it is not a light read) so I already knew exactly what I wanted when I arrived. The reputed superstar of the menu is “The Ripper”. The Ripper is a Jersey Style, All Natural (even the casing), All Beef Hot Dog that is fried in Vegetable Oil. I took the “purist/try to-pretend-I-have-some-sort-of-plan-for-reviewing-this-stuff” approach and ordered one ripper with Ketchup and Mustard. But I didn’t stop there, did I?
They have another rather unique item on the menu which caught my eye on their website. none other than “The LA Street Dog”. “Someone’s got some balls”, I said to myself. In addition to their famed Ripper I order one LA Street Dog with everything. Here’s how it all went down.

The Ripper: Hell yeah, man. The veg. oil situation made for a really cool flavorful crispy dog. Nothing flashy or fancy – it’s a freaking hot dog. But it’s a really really good hot dog. It’d be stupid to go into extreme detail over such a simple offering, so I won’t. but I will say that I know what all the fuss is about. It’s a great dog. Leagues and leagues above what you’re gonna end up spitting out over at Pinks or Carney’s.

The LA Street Dog: Nope. Nu-uh. Absolutely not. No No No. I can’t get too angry about it because I seriously appreciate that they had enough respect to put it on the menu whereas most Hot Dog freaks turn their nose up at the idea. But seriously – this is not an LA Street Dog at all. sure, it had all the trimmings, all the right ingredients, it was even made within the right county lines. But no. ‘fraid not. It’s too clean, too perfect, too much like a hot dog from any other city in any other state. It’s like ordering a hot dog off the streets of New York (which I freaking love as well by the way) and wrapping it in Bacon and throwing onions, peppers, jalapenos, and stuff on it. No. When I want a Street Dog I want it burnt, dripping with unidentifiable stuff, blackened and charred in sections, with chunks of Herpes from the cook falling off onto the sidewalk when you take a bite. When I eat a Street Dog I want to regret it almost immediately. Mind you – what I ate at Fab Hot Dogs was tasty enough, I suppose. Like I said it was like throwing some cool stuff onto a better-that-normal hotdog – but you cannot call it an LA Street Dog, I’m afraid.

Overall rating of Fab Hot Dogs? Super super high. Love the place. Really dig it. The drive to Reseda aint a short one – and I’m not likely to make the trek again for a long time just to enjoy their dog. But I promise that every single time I’m ever in that area again, I will absolutely stop in and eat as many Kick Ass Hot Dogs as I can in one sitting. And you should too. Just don’t order the Street Dog. Don’t do it. In order to go to Fab Hot Dogs you have to be in the Los Angeles area. If you’re in the Los Angeles area, you’ve probably got a few parking tickets in your glove box. So wheel your ass over to the violations bureau and wait four hours in line while shoving hot grilled drippy amazingness into your face. Only make sure you go to one that has a restroom – half way through that line, the Turista is gonna hit pretty hard.

Sorry for the long ass post. Its been a while – and this is a subject matter that I get all excited about.

ok bye.

being sociable

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ok bye

Peanut Butter And Freaking Jelly

Miss Me?

I said I couldn’t take it anymore, but the truth is I just can’t stay away. When it comes to food, I just can’t keep my fuckin’ mouth shut. So I’m back!! Things are gonna be different around here. Expect a whole new look in the coming weeks. I’ll be posting recipes and reviews and rants and stuff just like before – perhaps with a bit less frequency. But I’ll be tweeting a whole bunch more. I know – Oh Goodie – right? All in all it means in one way or another, from now on, you’ll be hearing more from the Asshole in the food blogger room. But enough small talk – let’s talk food.

Last night I fulfilled a dream. A small dream, but a dream nonetheless. A small dream that paid off Huge. For years I have wanted to make a Bad Ass Peanut Butter and Jelly. A PB&J worthy of being considered a Dinner Entree. A PB&J you would take pains to pair well with a good glass of wine or craft beer. A PB&J that would make you laugh in the face of the next preschool kid you saw and scream “Dude! You don’t even fucking KNOW!!! Said PB&J was born last night. As with anything I ever make – I’ll be messing with this recipe for years – but as of now I love it to death already and will probably eat another one today.

So!! You’re gonna make your own Organic Roasted Peanut Butter – AND you’re gonna make your own Rose Cardamom Strawberry Jam. It’s super freaking easy. If you have kids, they can totally help and will love to because it’s PB and freaking J. You are feeding yourself and your loved ones fresh, preservative free, homemade awesome things and that makes you a hero.

You’ll also need some form of Panini Press. I suppose George Forman will do if you’re the kind of person who is comfortable with that level of integrity. If you have nothing resembling a Panini press – Two Skillets of roughly equal size will get the job done. Here we go.

Peanut Butter:
16 oz. bag of organic roasted unsalted peanuts (you can also go crazy and roast some organic peanuts yourself … control freak)
5 big pinches of Kosher Salt (I like salty peanut butter – you can do less if you want) 1 very mild squeeze of Honey (like 2 or 3 teaspoonsish)
2 TBSP Peanut Oil (you’re gonna eyeball this actually so it may be more … or less)
** If you really want this to be organic, obviously all that stuff has to say Organic on the packaging (even then sometimes it’ bullshit … but hey, at least you tried)

Jelly:
1 LBs strawberries, sliced thin
1 – 2 cups sugar (up to you really)
1/2 cup orange juice
1 shake of cardamom (you can do more … i did more)
1-2 TBSP Rose Water

AND ….. Bread. How about some kick ass Californian Sourdough hm? San Francisco International? Southern California’s own Pioneer Sourdough? OK then.

for the PB

1. throw the Peanuts and the Salt into a food processor. Wiz the shit out of it. Go crazy. Stop and mix it around a bit – then wiz the hell out of it again. Just get that stuff as ground and fine as you possibly can.

2. Add the honey – start processing again. Now slowly drip the peanut oil in there. You’re going to do this until the peanut butter looks like you want it to look. After about 2 or 3 TBSP just let it spin for about a minute or more. If it doesn’t look right yet, slowly add more peanut oil. Don’t go too much further than 3 TBSP though. Again – let it run without pouring oil for at least a minute. This is going to be coarser than Skippy – but still creamy and glossy and rad as hell.

For the J

1. Seriously – just throw everything into a 12 inch skillet and cook over medium high heat til it’s done (how much sugar is up to you. 2 cups is pretty sweet, you might wanna hold off). stir somewhat frequently. if it gets kinda foamy at times, you can skim that stuff off. This should be roughly 10 minutes but who cares. Just watch it. When it’s starting to get the right thickness you want – you’re done. Warning though!! It will get thicker when it cools, so don’t go too far otherwise you will make a very tasty slimy gooey inedible brick of death.

***for those of you who generally make jam and can stuff – you’ll note that this is not a canning jam. This will only last about two weeks in the fridge. Well no it won’t. I will have eaten through mine as of tomorrow evening.

Let all that stuff cool – the refrigerator is a good place for cooling things.

Now – I doubt I have to tell you how to assemble a Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich – so do it. If you have some form of Panini Press, I also doubt I have to tell you how to operate your own Kitchen Gadgetry – so do it. Don’t be a freaking pansy either – get some good burny stuff in there – burn marks – burn smells – good things.

If you don’t own said gadgetry – here’s your trick.

1. Get those two equal sized skillets (they really should be cast iron) raging hot on the range.

2. Kill the heat and spray one of them with Pam or something – place the sandwich (or two or three sandwiches if they’ll fit) in that one.

3. QUICKLY NOW!!!! Spray the BOTTOM of the other pan with the Pam stuff and rest it on top of your precious sandwich (or precious sandwiches)

4. let it sit there for a while and think about what it’s done. Then remove the top skillet. If the sandwiches aren’t burny and awesome enough, repeat some of those steps until they are.

You’re Done!! Now Eat and Cry Tears of sweet ass childhood goodness!! I served this last night to my wife and a good friend along with a spinach/apple/fennel salad with a coarse mustard vinaigrette. Paired it with a glass of midlevel Hard Cider … a kind of earthy one.

And that’s that kids. You should make this because it’s satisfying as all hell – and then after you make it, You should eat it. Hope you enjoyed the long and tedious read. There’ll be more of that on the way as well as some general website streamlining. Until next time – from all of us here at EATFREAK – have a awesome day – I’m John Graney, screaming obscenities loudly at his food so you don’t have to.

ok bye.

LAME

Sorry kids.  Eatfreak is officially on Hiatus for the time being (like you didn’t know that already).  Things have officially become too busy in other areas of my life.  At some point hopefully I’ll find a way of balancing real life and food blog life – but until then this domain is going to have to endure a rather long and awkward silence.

sincerest apologies.

until we meet again ….

eatfreak.

Egg In A Freaking Hole

Egg in a Freaking Hole. If you don’t like and/or don’t regularly partake in this breakfast classic you should be shot in the face until dead.

It’s not exactly mind blowing, but for some reason there is something so enticingly absurd about the idea of frying an egg into a piece of toast. I have made this dish countless times in my life, and it has never ever ever lost it’s stupid little novelty value for me. Making this is an easy way to remind yourself that life is ridiculous and stupid little things can make you happy – and provide you with sustenance.

Getting this right – or rather making it to your liking is all about getting the right heat. In general you want to keep the heat at medium low-ish. Personally I break that rule a few times to get some kick ass blacky browny burny stuff in there and so I “accidently” cook the outside of the egg too quick, leaving some soft gooey gross good stuff to spill out all over the place and burn my ace off when I eat it.

I guess my point is …. my instructions below are a little more complicated than this has to be …. you can leave the pan on medium/low heat the whole time and just take slightly longer …. my way gets things toasty and crunchy and stinky and messy. that’s how I like things.

Anyhoo – simple and easy as this is – it does take practice to get it just the way you want it. But it’s easy, cheap, quick, and stupid …. and when you get it right, it’s freaking awesome.

1 egg
1 piece of bread (i like sourdough for the job)
“some” butter – no more no less
Kosher Salt and Fresh Ground Pepper (if you’re just going to sprinkle bullshit table salt and gross pepper over it ,do yourself a favor and just scrape a brick over your breakfast instead …. that’s at least a creative way of destroying your meal)

1. Get a nonstick pan up to high heat. While it’s heating – use a small cup or something to cut out a hole in the bread. 2-ish inches is good. Then crack your egg into a small cup.

2. Rub a stick of butter around in the pan til you’ve got a nice bubbly coating in there. Chuck in the bread. Let it get really toasty on one side.

3. Now, flip the bread over and reduce the heat to medium low. Shove that stick of butter through the hole and melt a bit onto the pan. Now carefully pour that egg in there. Sprinkle of salt and pepper. Let it sit for maybe two minutes ….. ish.

4. When you flip it, you’ll need to be quick. So, be quick and flip it. Salt and Pepper again. I don’t know how done you like your eggs. If you want it runny, just let the other side sear real quick and pull it off after like 30 seconds. If you like a hard yoke, let it sit for another minute or more.

Anyway …. when the egg in a hole is done, transfer to appropriate eating vessel and quickly chuck the “hole” that you cut out of the bread in the pan to sop up the last of the butter, salt, and pepper.

NOW EAT DAMNIT!!! If you like hard eggs you can eat this thing with your hands. If you like runny eggs you can also eat it with your hands but you’ll get covered in scalding stuff. So if you’re into that kind of thing, this is the breakfast for you. Or you can use a fork like a freaking pansy.

I smother mine in HP sauce. Feel free to smother yours with whatever you want. Then when you’re done you can use the hole to sop up the left over goopy stuff.

Obviously variations in type of bread and different spices can liven this up. Using olive bread is an awesome twist. Try sprinkling a tiny bit of cardamom in with the salt and pepper, that’s cool too.

Egg in a God Damned Hole! One of the simplest, stupidest, most ridiculous little joys of cooking for yourself. Go do it.

ok bye.

Ranger

Well kids, in honor of Saint Patrick’s Day (and a happy one to you by the way) I’m gonna review another beer. Not a beer you are likely to drink on Patty’s day. No, in fact you should follow my advice and throw together some bad ass Black Velvet’s … http://eatfreak.org/2009/10/21/the-black-velvet/

That’s probably what I will do – I will also enjoy a dinner of boiled corned beef and veg. – and I’ll tell you all about it later.

Right now I want to talk about Ranger – New Belgium Brewery’s first foray into the world of the Pale Ale. The India Pale Ale actually. First off – it’s kind of a bullshit review as New Belgium is easily the the absolute best brewery running in the mainstream beer world right now. I freaking dare you to attempt to dispute that statement. So anyway – yeah – this is a glowing review (spoiler alert).

New Belgium has built their empire on Heavier European based Ales, brewed in a sort of new american way. There is usually not a really Hoppy flavor to their beers. If you don’t know what Hops taste like – go order a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale – that’s what Hops taste like. If you don’t like that beer – you don’t like Hops and stop reading now. Ranger marks the first beer out of New Belgium to have a pronounced Hoppy flavor – and a fucking pronounced Hoppy flavor indeed.

So Review Time:

The Pour – Rad. Beautiful color. Huge head, almost too huge – but I love that. Especially in a Hoppy beer, because there’s an earthy flowery sort of thing to the foam. A+ for looks. She’s gorgeous.

The Smell – I think my neighbors can smell the hops coming off this thing. I guess if you don’t like hops you’d hate this smell – but that’s not really the point. It’s supposed to be an India Pale Ale – so it’ supposed to be hoppy. Some hoppy beers have a bitter kind of gross smell. Not this IPA. It’s a fantastic flower, mildly sour smell. It’s awesome. Another A+.

Taste – What can I say. I am a Californian (I may have mentioned that before) we are the champions of the Pale Ale. Our Sierra Nevada remains the most well known, ordered, and loved of it’s kind in the world. Our Stone Brewery practically kills people with the amount of hops in all of their beers. I dig pale ales, I dig hops. The hops flavor is huge – but not in a bad way. As far as enormously hoppy beers go – I prefer this to what’s coming out of Stone Brewery. Most importantly – the hops are a mouthful, but they somehow manage to not completely cover up any other flavors in there. Underneath all that sour hoppy goodness there’s a really well brewed ale. A+

Conclusion – this is my favorite India Pale Ale in the world (not pale ale … india pale ale .. important distinction) It manages to balance the overwhelming hops you expect from an IPA with straight up amazing brewing quality that we’ve come to expect from New Belgium.

Again – if you don’t dig hops, don’t ever go anywhere near this beer. But if you do dig hops – you are going to fucking love this thing.

So there. Happy Patty’s day – try to take good care of yourself and not kill anything or anyone. But for shit sake – enjoy yourself and enjoy good quality beer – Because today is the day St. Patrick gave his life to free us all from Anheuser Busch.

good bye forever

The Brunette

A word about pickled Jalapenos, if I may ….. FUCK!!!!!!!! AAAAAHHHHH!!!!!! I can’t get enough of this shit. My neighbor and I have discussed our shared disease of slowly picking away at a jar of pickled jalapenos through the evening ’til the whole thing is empty. It’s habits like that that will leave you standing upside down in the shower for a while – if you get my meaning. Lately I can’t seem to find enough uses for these bad boys. Macaroni and Cheese, Grilled Cheese Sandwiches, Tapenade, Ceviche, a few drops of the pickling juice in a Bloody Mary (just a few examples) . Do yourself a HUGE favor and go grab a few cans and just chuck them in your pantry. You’ll thank yourself later .. big time. but don’t just grab any can…..

La Morena – The Brunette. Look at her. That sultry temptress. Eyes at half mast. Who can say no to a face like that? Not I. And neither should you. For your money – these are the best Pickled Jalapenos you’re gonna find. But you’re gonna have to look a bit hard to find them. Find your closest Mexican market. You should know where it is anyway. Go there – stock up on all the amazing cool shit they have there – and make sure to grab a bunch of cans of La Morena Pickled Jalapenos. I attribute the kickassness of La Morena to the lack of sugar in the pickling juice. That and the incredible orange packaging. But I honestly don’t give a shit why they’re so awesome. They just are.

I find that I don’t usually use a whole can at a time …so here’s what I do. Get a bullshit glass jar of pickled jalapenos from Ralphs or whatever. I’ll use those for a bit, and enjoy the opportunity to directly compare them to La Morena …. once those are done I dump out their bullshit pickling juice – wash it out and use the jar to store my badass La Morena Jalapenos (don’t forget to include the juice).

Seriously. Pickled Jalapenos. Little Orange Can. Dark sultry woman apparently neck deep in a sea of spicy goodness.

that’s all – goodbye forever

p.s. don’t be afraid when you find some sliced carrots in there with those peppers. Just enjoy the extra bonus. Tasty as hell.

Papoo’s Hot Dog Show – presenting The Show Burger

“Papoo’s Hot Dog Show, presenting The Show Burger ….. it’s a show about hot dogs …. and life”. That’s a quote from a friend of mine. And I think it’s kind of true. On the surface Papoo’s is not a show at all. It’s an old school Californian hot dog and burger joint. A throwback to when Burbank, California was practically doubling in size almost every day. G.I.s were returning from World War II and, grateful to be alive, wanted to spend the rest of their days in the sunshine – and they wanted American Burgers and Hot Dogs. Papoo’s gave them a whole freaking show. Well, not really.

So what am I doing here? I’m looking all over Los Angeles for a really bad ass hot dog. That’s what I’m doing here. Yes, yes – we all know the “famous” few hot dog joints in town – their reputations sung far and wide. Their billboards hung high in the sky preaching their hot doggy goodness. In my search I will attend said joints – but not with an open mind – as I’ve been before many times and remain extraordinarily underwhelmed. and (just to get something straight) I’m not including Sausage joints … for instance Wurtskuche. That particular Sausage joint happens to be one of my favorite restaurants on the planet and you can expect a piece on them soon …. but that’s not what I’m looking for. I want a “hot dog”. A straight up, Basic, American, Kickass Hot Dog.

So how’s the show at Papoo’s? It’s good. Just good. I’d rate it better than Pinks or Carney’s for sure. One thing definitely put me off. I sat down and asked the waitress which of the many hot dogs on the menu she called her favorite. Her response was “I don’t eat Hot Dogs”. hm. It was kind of like the twist ending to the “hot dog show”. She directed me to one of the most popular orders – The Chili Dog. It’s exactly what you’d expect. A chili dog straight out of 1949. A time when we hadn’t quite recovered from a steady system of rationing. A time when Plastic could be considered exotic. A time when Tuna Casserole was the height of the American Culinary experience. I don’t want a hot dog to be too gourmet, personally. Hot Dogs should be a quick a dirty experience. They should arrive shortly after ordering (this one did) and they should be finished just as shortly thereafter (this one was).

I haven’t found my favorite dog in LA here – but I’ve definitely found a good one. I’d recommend their burger pretty highly as well, actually. So if you get a chance, I’d say go check out the show at Papoo’s. It’s a great way to experience part of the birth of fast food and the history of America’s “street food”. And it’s a good dog.

On another note. I started up the EATFREAK Facebook page. go sign up – leave comments – wall posts – tell me I’m full of shit. Most Importantly. TELL ME WHERE I CAN FIND A KICK ASS HOT DOG IN THE CITY OF LOS ANGELES!!!!

http://www.facebook.com/pages/EATFREAK/358069241161

In the meantime – go the Papoo’s 4300 W. Riverside Dr. Burbank CA 91505

ok that’s all bye forever

Tortilla Chips

Hey – That photo reminds me of a joke I once heard. What has a mouth and doesn’t make it’s own Tortilla Chips? I really freaking lame person!

I don’t care if it’s not funny – it’s true. Here’s the deal. For your money – you are probably eating shit tortilla chips. Maybe you don’t care – fine – eat bullshit chips. But for cheaper than a bag of Doritos you can have better chips than Baja Fresh – yes friends, even better than Poquito Mas. (that’s an L.A. reference for you outsiders). If you live in a town with Trader Joes – get their 99 cent bag of Corn Tortillas (these turn out like a really badass frito) ….. or splurge on their $1.99 handmade ones and live the dream (these turn out like a golden fried deity). If you don’t have a TJs nearby – get a bag of small hand sized tortillas – whichever kind you want – I dig white corn. (I’m guessing I don’t need to mention if you happen to live near a kick ass Mexican Grocery Store – their Tortillas will beat the crap out of the aforementioned ones, and will likely be as cheap if not cheaper)

1 bag tortillas (see above) – cut however you want – classic wedges makes 8 chips per tortilla – strips can be fun – use a cookie cutter and make O.J. Simpson chips – whatever you want.

SOME oil – enough to come up to about an inch in the pan. I like to use Sunflower Oil – Canola is cool – Peanut is real cool. Again – who cares – it’s still going to be better than Doritos.

1. heat the oil in a 10 (ish) inch nonstick pan – or a skillet – whatever. Let it get good and hot. Give it a few minutes.

2. Add chips in batches – about 8 at a time – give them tops 15 seconds on each side. TOPS. near the end that oil will be getting hot and it’ll take less time.

3. Transfer to a paper towel lined plate for a little bit to dry out before chucking them into a big bowl.

4. In the bowl – season with cool stuff. I like just salt and pepper. You can do Lawry’s Salt. a mixture of Mexican Chili Powder and Curry Powder. Celery Salt and a little bit of lime. Shake it all around. Now you’re done.

The only tricky part is getting the timing while doing batches and transferring to that bowl. Don’t let things get burnt. Or do! I don’t know. I like variation in the chips. Sometimes you get a slightly underdone chewy one and sometimes you get a smokey burnt one. Kickass.

This whole thing takes like ten minutes so …. if you don’t do it you’re pretty useless. Also – when you’re done – let the oil cool in the pan then pour it into something you can save it in for later. That oil will be good for about 3 more batches of chips before it starts to give you cancer and kill you.

There you go – Doritos prices – Badass flavor that doesn’t come out of a test tube. I find this whole process to be insanely rewarding and tasty as balls. Super easy. Super good.

Ok love ya gotta go goodbye forever

p.s. about twice a year I get a BIG ASS craving for Doritos and eat a whole bag to myself. judge accordingly.

I am a douchebag – Also Jicama Sticks

Hey

Let’s try this again. I’m John Graney. I’m a moron. I have no organizational skills whatsoever. I have a habit of biting off more than I can chew – literally and figuratively. Hence, the blog about food (biting … chewing) that I cannot seem to keep up with ( … more than I can ….). Again – I am not a chef or a food professional of any kind. I am a musician – which means I have large periods of time that are free, and large periods of time that are completely booked up. I’m sad to say that my original structure for this blog took an unreasonable amount of concentration and preparation from me – too much commitment for me to keep up with. Therefor in order to keep this bad boy running, there is going to have to be some major douching. Over the next few days I am going to be redesigning and restructuring this blog so it allows me to give you people what you want: Recipes, Images and Articles about various things which taste either ridiculously good or unfathomably disgusting, all told in a sort of closed minded and overly judgmental vernacular while incorporating a heavy handed dose of expletives and other childish language devices. Sound about right?

In the meantime I leave you with this age old classic:

Jicama Sticks a la kickass

1 jicama – peeled – use a big ass knife and be very careful. (I’ve only ever cut myself twice in the kitchen – one of those times was when cutting a jicama) Then chop it into french fry sized sicks

lime juice – um …. some. maybe 2ish limes worth – it’s up to you really.

Chili powder – get mexican chili powder if you can – otherwise, whatever. Again, the exact measurement is “some”. As much as you want.

1. Throw the jicama sticks in a big bowl – squeeze lime juice all over it until the sticks are decently coated – shake chili powder over the sticks, stirring frequently until you have the amount that you want.

NOW EAT!!!! This is one of the healthiest most addictive and amazing snacks of all time. Good substitute for a light side salad. Also works as a snooty ass gourmet party starter. Yay Jicama!!

There. That should keep you happy for a minute while I clean shit up around here.

love ya gotta go bye