Posts from the ‘Distractions’ Category

Aug 24

Clams & Tomatoes: Interspecies Friends?

I don't normally give much attention to the office vending machine (though I've always been wowed by the one that dispense Good Humor ice cream bars) but it's one of the only things to look at while waiting for my coffee to brew or drip or whatever it does that takes an eternity to come out (they have this fancy Starbucks contraption that grinds your beans on demand and makes a fresh cup, but it takes its sweet time).

The other day I couldn't help but notice the word Clamato staring out at me. Who knew they made Clamato tortilla chips? (They being Poore Brothers, who also make T.G.I. Friday's chips and Cinnabon cookies.) And who on earth would've thought it was a good idea to put them in there? I strongly doubt that it was a request. In the past I've seen handwritten, taped up pleas for more Baked Lays (maybe all those fake fats are the source of the office's apparent bowel incontinence problem). I'm not a chip person, but I am almost curious enough to see if they're really color crayon red like on the package and if they actually taste like tomatoes and clams.

The odd thing is that a bulk of the internet references to this bizarre snack food also mention vending machines so it must be some corporate-geared thing.

Clammy tomato goodness from iamgracie on Flickr.

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Jul 17

Skirting the Issue

My hot dog piece ended up getting mushed into a larger round up of summer eats, but it's all in there.

And since Sunday is about randomness, so allow me to share a few things that have nothing to do with anything.

When it's like 90% humidity and close to 100 degrees I can't stand seeing people wearing sweaters. I mean, the word sweat is right in there. I have been noticing women (not a ton, but enough to catch my attention) on my morning commute with full on winter wear and it scares me. I understand if you live someplace where you go straight from an air conditioned home to an air conditioned car to an air conditioned office. But in NYC the average person is cruelly subjected to the elements for extended periods of time. And no, it doesn't make you tougher, it makes you whinier.

Also, it peeves me when people use umbrellas when it's not raining. Yes, it's like a rain forest out there, but an umbrella can't protect against hot moist air. This peculiarity seems to cut across genders and age ranges. And it's not being done like in Asia where people use umbrellas to block the sun. Skirt_1 It could be argued that this practice isn't hurting anyone so I should shut up. But taking up unnecessary amounts of sidewalk space affects all of humanity.

This Gap skirt is becoming the bane of my existence. I bought it last month because it was colorful, relatively cute and most importantly, cheap (it was $19.99 in the store). Now, I see at least one woman a day wearing it (the pink version, not the blue one that's remaining on the website). I guess that's the problem with chain clothing. This skirt is the great unifier. So far I've seen it on skinny and plump ladies, as well as on white, Asian and black women.

Speaking of chain clothing, I was disturbed and confused when I started receiving Good Housekeeping in the mail a few months ago. I would never subscribe to a magazine with Tom Cruise and Rachael Ray on the covers. I eventually figured out that it's a replacement publication for the now defunct Budget Living. It's so not a fair trade. Though by the end of BL's tenure they were showing $90 candy dishes and the like. Despite all of the saving your marriage and helping your children crap (there was this hideous advice column last month where one woman was complaining how coworker would also whisper to her loudly in meetings and make her look bad. And the response was to say something direct along the lines of "Kathy, please be quiet. I really want to hear what Mr. Dickwad has to say." So, women [who are always support staff] commonly address their bosses [who are always men] using their surname like they're in grade school or employed as maids?) in the pages of GH, they do have budget-minded "fashion" spreads. I haven't looked at a magazine in ages that actually includes clothing from Kmart and JC Penny.

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May 29

Bowl Me Over

Bowls I know I can't be the only one bothered by KFC's new Famous Bowls. And it's not like I have good taste either (I'm totally fascinated by Crunchwraps and stuffed crust pizza). There's just something very wrong about this overloaded combination. Fried chicken, corn, mashed potatoes and gravy all seem innocent enough when compartmentalized on the plate, so it must be the crowning glory, the three cheese (which three, pray tell?) blend.

The completely unnecessary addition of cheese (hey, except in that stuffed crust) is the hallmark of any good American fast food invention. It's like the recipe developers just weren't satisfied with cramming a typical KFC meal in a bowl and calling it a day (not too long ago Taco Bell went this same route with their Border Bowl). It had to have that extra oomph, and in many cases oomph equals cheese.

My other personal peeve with this dish is that it's one of those crammed convenience meals that might psychologically feel like you're eating less than a normal plate full of food because it's all squished and combined. I like my food to last a long time so superficially it seems more satisfying. I hate how in NYC (or maybe other places too) they serve bagels filled to the gills and halved like a sandwich. I always pull mine apart (and occasionally remove some of the cream cheese-I know, blasphemy) so it takes twice as long to eat. Ok, maybe I'm the one with the problem. I like to eat a lot and it's a trick I can play on myself that works.

Mayo I've always had an unabashed problem with mayonnaise, though I will admit to gaining an appreciation for the emulsified spread served with French fries, especially if it's freshly whipped up. I mean, it's just egg and oil, so what's the big deal? I will concede that mayonnaise has its place…in small doses.

Yet, I'm disturbed by Hellman's Easy Out! because it's encouraging excessive use of the questionable condiment, just what I've rallied against for like 30 years. Did consumers really cry out for easier access to mayo? The commercial shows a huge dollop being squeezed onto a wrap, akin to shaking hot sauce on a burrito. Not the same.

Now, squeezable cranberry sauce? That's bizarre on a totally different level. Inoffensive, yet odd.

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May 18

Newborns: Cake & Pretzels

I’ve recently discovered two new treats that have made my day. (And no, Coca-Cola BlaK isn’t on my list, though I actually like it better than plain cola which isn’t saying much because most cola type beverages upset me.).

E_u_celebration_1

Entenmann’s Ultimate Celebration Cake
It practically jumped off the shelf at me at Western Beef. Really, it’s just a yellow cake with chocolate frosting and circular sprinkles, but it’s so damn festive. It brought me joy on three separate occasions in the past week or so (that’s the benefit of junky preservative-laden snacks—they keep in the fridge for abnormal lengths of time). Watching Sunday night HBO can be a celebration, managing to make it to six o’clock without hurting others (or yourself) can be a celebration. Life can be one big freaking celebration. Thank you, Entenmann’s.

Snyder’s of Hanover Hot Buffalo Wing Pieces
Pretz has nothing over Snyder's. They already make those peculiar ochre honey mustard nubs that I find disgustingly tasty. They must put something extra in those artificial flavors to increase appetite. I’m able to resist Dorrito dust, but Cheeto powder has an allure. Wasabi peas too—I can eat a whole bag in one sitting, and almost did just that on Sunday.

But buffalo wing pretzels?! Is buffalo flavor the new ranch? That’s outrageous. The pretzel cubes are shocking orange and initially too tangy, but then you get a little spice and the vinegary quality is mitigated when the blander pretzel middle breaks open and mixes in your mouth. Not bad. And next thing you know, you’ve reached into the bag like ten times. Just imagine dipping these pieces in blue cheese dressing.

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May 17

My Way or the Fairway

Everyone has priorities in life. Me, I took a day off work to check out the new Fairway in Red Hook. I almost spontaneously gave my notice yesterday, which would've been severely stupid since I have zero job prospects at the moment. The only thing that kept me from walking out was the promise of a shiny, new Fairway to visit the following day. Seriously…I never claimed to be un-pathetic.

It's odd because in a car, it's only like five minutes to get to the end of Van Brunt St., but walking it seemed like more of a haul, maybe 30 minutes or so. I took the BQE foot bridge that's across the street from my apt. and then proceeded to get twisted around and ended up over off Lorraine St. where all those busted stores and laundromat are, at the end of the projects. Even the nasty now shuttered Court St. Key Food that the entire (blog) world hated would be an improvement over the Red Hook grocery situation. The Fairway is like a massive jump from shitty to super with never having spent any time in the mediocre middle.

I'm guessing I made it there around 10:35am and I was completely surprised by the lack of massive crowds. Not that I'm complaining, I'm severely pushy people-phobic. Of course, there was lots of rampant shopping cart banging and blocking and the usual slow movers and gawkers. But it was manageable. For a while, there might've been more press than public.

I got overwhelmed and only ended buying a Vitamin Water (lemon-lime perform because you know, I'm a high performing individual). Now that I'm back home and settled in, I wish I would've bought some snacks (there aren't any real grocery stores in Carroll Gardens proper since the Key Foods went bust. Jeez, I can't believe I've managed to bring up that abominable store twice in one post).

I've posted more images on Flickr (yes, I've started buying into the whole Flickr mania–though I could still take or leave You Tube) if you're interested.

The parking lot was about 85% full

They had just wrapped up a stirring rendition of "New York, New York"

The Brooklyn Eagle and either a co-owner or the landlord (I've seen this same man with two different names attributed to him in newspapers–maybe the landlord and owner are both large gray-haired men in overalls?).

ho I tCheeses of the

world

A cute alternative to the typical laughing cow cheese. I think the text was in Hebrew.

I'm not cheese obsessed, I was just trying to find something for price comparison. Blue Castello, one of my middlebrow favorites, was $4.29 (or $4.59–my mind is blanking) which seemed spendy. It's only 99-cents at the East Village Cheese Shop, but then theirs is also half-rancid half of the time.

The bakery scene. I managed to abstain from the free cookies

No crowd for meat

Awesome. The world has totally gone squeezable crazy. I mean, is there such a high demand for convenient cranberry sauce?

Bounty of produce. They had some nice looking heirloom tomatoes, but I wasn't on a mission to buy.

Just a lone mopper on this aisle

In case you were interested. I've always been scared of grocery store bathrooms so I didn't go in.

Firemen love dry aged meat. Isn't there a beefcake joke in there somewhere?

There was a mob for free samples of jumbo shrimp, off to the left.

No lines at checkout–I wonder how long that'll last.

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May 1

Sundays & Sundaes

Sundays suck, they've always sucked, and the older I get the more they seem to suck. There's just something dreary about a Sunday. As a kid, I remember them being gray and rainy and the tv shows were bad, no cartoons, all current events, sports or depressing fare like Grizzly Adams (the wistful folky theme song; the premise, a man on the run for crime he didn't commit; the era, 1970s masquerading as 1850s —so downtrodden and dirty). Obviously, this was pre cable tv or internet. I read in bed a lot during the afternoon. Now, I have other distractions, but there's still something dread-filled about a Sunday. I don't understand the whole "having a case of the Mondays" (what a poignant phrase) because by Monday you're already in the thick of it. Sunday you have a whole day to dwell on the awfulness of the impending week. Saturday I wake up no problem, but Sunday I often lay in bed well past noon, not really tired, but reluctant to get up because it means the weekend's end is drawing near and it's too much to bear. Melodrama aside, it's true. Motivation is tough even though it tends to be sunny in NYC. (Sometimes music helps—I'm very keen on the Envelopes today)

Today was balmy enough, and it was the opening weekend for the soccer and food stand extravaganza in Red Hook. I mean, it's only about a 12-minute walk from my apt. and it's not like you can get a decent taco anywhere in BoCoCa (oh, yes I did). After one massive huarache, I was done. I could've squeezed in an arepa, but didn't want to go overboard as I'm known to do.

The word huarache is amusing to me because if you recall huaraches, the sandals, were popular somewhere in the '80s. And my dad who had like zero accent (he would occasionally put the emphasis on the wrong syllable, but that's about it) would pronounce huarache with an insane amount of precision and Spanish flair. You know, like when newscasters speak standard English and then call Chile chee-lay. Every time my dad would theatrically say hurache, my sister and I would bust a gut and try and find ways to work the word into conversations just to get him to say it again.

Instead of going the more meat and corn route, I went wild and bought a baggie of fruit, which is very unlike myself because I rarely eat fruit. Nature's candy (what a crock) just doesn't do it for me, I have to force myself to eat it (I bought a bag of tangerines yesterday with the notion that I'll bring them to work as healthy snacks, but I see that lasting about one day). But I love the Mexican style of preparing mangos, which is actually very Thai right down serving the slices in a plastic baggie with disposable fork (dispensing beverages this same way, but with a straw, seems very precarious, however. See random person's photo for example). They sprinkle the fruit with salt, chile powder and lime juice (actually the Red Hook vendor used bottled lemon juice, but same idea) and you get that crazy salty/sweet/spicy effect. It's almost like you're not even eating fruit, which is a plus in my book.

So, my Sunday afternoon was tolerable but now it's starting to get dark out and night time means Monday is mere hours away and that's a hideous thought. At least I have some leftovers from yesterday's Sripraphai excursion to look forward to later. It's not a good thing when food is the only exciting part of your day (my cat is the same way. Do you think pets get their owners' personalities? Like Caesar, James's cat, is kind of prickly, keeps to himself and is not one for idle chit chat. The cat won't meow to save his life. Sukey, my cat, is talkative and constantly meowing and complaining and is obsessed with eating. In fact, she's starting to get a feline gut)…or life, for that matter.

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Apr 29

I’m Too Excited to Sleep

Actually, I can always sleep, no problem. I've never understood those Ambien addicts. I just get in bed and close my eyes and I fall asleep. But my wholesome sleeping habits aren't issue here. Though I haven’t noticed it in a few weeks, I was most disturbed when maybe a month ago I discovered that Disney World had dug up that extremely old commercial where the little boy at the end says in a peculiarly endearing voice (I’m only ever swayed by the use of pipsqueaks in advertisements maybe 2% of the time) “I'm too excited to sleep.”

Seeing it made me feel like I was going insane because I know that thing must be at least a decade old. I swear, my sister and I used to laugh at that commercial and we haven't lived in the same city and watched American TV together since 1994. That kid probably has kids of his own by now. At the very least, he’d be in college.

It’s not a classic like that Mikey Life cereal deal, so I don’t think they’re trying to capitalize on nostalgia. And I can’t imagine that Disney World is so cheap that they’d be forced to re-use a twelve-year-old commercial. There’s nothing distinctly dated about it, the hairstyles are kind of neutral and the family is wearing pajamas rather than clothes so there’s little giveaway there either.

Slightly less baffling, but no less confusing is how I keep seeing Sonic ads when there aren’t any Sonics even remotely near NYC. And they're not planning on coming here any time soon, if I'm to believe their map. The nearest location is 123 miles away in Ephrata, PA. Isn’t that wrong somehow? Aren’t ads sold in targeted markets? When I first moved here I went nuts every time I saw an ad for Friendly’s because I’d never heard of such a place and it sounded so likeable. You know, friends and ice cream, it doesn’t get any better. But the only one in NYC, at least at the time, was at a Staten Island mall. I did end up going almost two years later (scroll to 6/13/00 if you’re that bored/curious–it was too much trouble to import ancient entries by date) and it was a bit of a freak show. I’m not sure if it’s worth a two-hour drive just for Tea & BLT.

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Apr 14

Not My Nature

Not only is there a Xeroxed plea taped inside the bathroom stalls (well, technically, one stall) at my office for women with eating disorders to call a hotline, but there is also a disgusting plastic bottle of liquid soap that magically appears maybe every other day and is completely consumed by day’s end. Sometimes it’s chamomile, sometimes it’s lavender, but the icky product is called Liquid Nature, which doesn’t seem to be a legit consumer brand, as it turns up nothing on Google. There’s something cheap and gross about it, I’ll use the neon pink crud from the built in metal pumps before I touch the most unnatural stuff.

But what bothers me about it, other than it looking skuzzy (even lower brow than St. Ive’s—I know Suave is rock bottom, but there’s something about St. Ive’s that seems more off) is how quickly is gets used up. It’s like I’m surrounded by OCD hand washers—there are mountains of suds left behind in the sink—and apparently, pukers. Maybe they’re scrubbing all the regurgitation evidence from their fingers? Either way, there’s something seriously afoul in this office, and the bathroom behavior might be the least of it.

I know people think it’s silly to waste so much time and resources on a stuck cat, but I like cats, so too bad for the naysayers. But it has gotten out of control—bringing in an animal therapist, playing “soothing” whale sounds (do cats like mammoth water mammals? Whales, and all other sea creatures, scare the crap out of me) and my favorite: using a box of crying kittens as bait, hoping to trigger her maternal instincts. Fuck that. I know cats are animals, hence prone to natural impulses, but who says a female cat can’t resist the mewling of feline infants? Maybe the furry crybabies got on her nerves. I’d stay in the wall too. Ok, those kittens are pretty damn cute—Molly’s just heartless.

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Apr 13

Casa de los Babys

Ok, I'll quickly mention that I have an article about Latin American hot sauces in today's New York Post. But the best part is the ad below my story. Look closely…I almost shit myself–it's Reggaeton Niños Vol. 1! My favorite genre of music made family friendly. These "talented" children totally need to get together with Kidz Bop and Dev2.0 and offend the sensibilities of all nationalities.

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Apr 13

Gilmore Valley Girls

I almost never watch anything on the WB, but I was bored last night and happened to catch the end of Gilmore Girls (oh, there was some mention of "grups" in there too—so, so topical) where they were playing Sparks’ “Angst in My Pants” (I can’t hear that song and not think of Nicolas Cage in Valley Girl, a movie I didn't even see until I was in my late teens because it was freakin' rated R and my mom wouldn't allow it in '83). The song made me feel a little off kilter, but it wasn’t surprising. Oh, and there was that kid whose role I know nothing about because I don't watch Gilmore Girls, that ran into Rory at a party and was wearing a Dinosaur Jr. Green Mind t-shirt. So much nostalgia that I almost feel like moving to a quaint NE town and engaging in witty banter with my precocious daughter I had as a teen .

Then before I could change the channel Pepper Dennis came on and the opening sequence where Rebecca Romijn was getting ready in the morning, close-up shots of coffee brewing, etc. The Go! Team's “The Power is On” was setting the mood. Now that's weird. At least I think. That's a sure sign you're getting old (or turning into a grup), when you think something still might be hip or obscure when it’s totally outré. I guess that Go! Team record has been out for over a year so there's been plenty of time for dissemination. Now I feel nostalgic for early 2005.

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Posts from the ‘Distractions’ Category

Clams & Tomatoes: Interspecies Friends?

Skirting the Issue

Bowl Me Over

Newborns: Cake & Pretzels

My Way or the Fairway

Sundays & Sundaes

I’m Too Excited to Sleep

Not My Nature

Casa de los Babys

Gilmore Valley Girls

Featured

Occasional Instagramming

Yes, it’s come to this

My Other Blogs

What?

The Past Will Haunt You

Pigeonholing 101