Fish, a simple and important revelation.

As Sanchez goes to excess to describe how much my food background is bankrupt, there are some basic points I do understand, although I happen to be capable of developing taste as time moves forward. I will illustrate his basic premise with a simple example: fish.

I enjoyed sushi with my mother this evening, which is to say she watched me enjoy sushi while she ate chicken teriyaki and tempura shrimp. I goaded her on to try a little bite of a roll with fully cooked ingredients. She refused saying "it's going to be fishy."

Yes, I thought, it's fish. I respect the various eccentricities and biases that pepper my family's taste as much as I understand them, so understanding is the project here. I understood something so simple and so telling that I can't believe I hadn't thought it before. We all grew up in Colorado. Unless it was brook trout, we never saw fresh fish. Ever. A bias against "fishy" has more to do with freshness than taste. I had mackerel sashimi and noticed the full flavor but enjoyed its freshness. Give the same Mackerel another day, it would be disturbing. Freshness is difficult to demand in the Colorado of my childhood, but now I can enjoy terrific sushi-grade seafood without the pitfalls of "fishy" fish.

I come from Picky people, which Sanchez has had the grace not to mention. Yet. As soon as I can begin to understand why, I will be ready to fully embrace our mantra, "eat it and shut up."

Sorry Michael, the food in your home town SUCKS!

photo credit: forclosurelistings.com

I am first and foremost grateful for you inviting me to your home town. It's nice! Pretty, at least until you go very far in any direction, starting from any place. He and I did have a very good time at a wine bar here. Oh, wait, Michael is flagging me down, excuse me for a moment...
...Michael tells me that that wine bar, Swirl, was indeed not in Colorado Springs, but rather in an adjoining town called Manitou Springs. God, that town was FUN! And the food looked good, although Michael never took us there to eat any of it. We watched the bartender bring his own food from the joint across the street (The Keg Lounge, 730 Manitou Ave.). Anyway, we were full.

So we were full, but from questionable sources. I have no nose in the air, I'll eat anything for a dollar: put it in front of me and offer me a dollar, you'll be out a dollar. Michael took me and his friend Finneus, whose birthday it was, to a very crowded joint called José Muldoon's, a sort of Irish pub with Mexican food. We thought it could be good because they served a happy hour until 7. So I had to fight a pretty girl for a table at the bar, otherwise the wait would have been 20 minutes. She asked me if I was even going to watch the "Bulls" game, which was apparently on the TV in the bar, with an overwhelming sense of entitlement. At first, I pretended not to understand her, and then I became suddenly annoyed, "I'm sorry, but I was here first. No, don't go away. You see my friend here?" I indicated Michael, who was recently robbed and assaulted with a face to match, "Yeah. He was a victim of a violent robbery. Oh, and Finneus here? It's his birthday. We shit on the Bulls. Bull shit." I guess her pretty girl thing works some or maybe most of the time, but not here. I'm too hungry. But I digress. $2.50 margaritas and $.99 tacos. You would too. Word to the wise, though, they'll always be able to make you a bean taco no matter what they offer you in a busy bar. Mystery meat may not be a risk or an ethical dilemma, but it also might not taste good, so I wouldn't take the risk. I had three, they both had four, a side of guac was $8, almost doubling our tab. I respect the pricing for its deceptiveness, and since it was crowded on a Tuesday night, there are only two possibilities: locals have no taste or locals know better. If you see me in person, I'll let you know which I think. The guacamole had too much green onion and not enough salt and was served in a four or five ounce portion. I would be happy to spend $4 on that much sub-par guac, but otherwise it was disappointing. After we decided the margaritas were more sour mix than anything else, we switched to Negro Modelo on tap. We all ate too many tacos and left disappointed.

Michael says he's also been taken on dates here to Denny's, Village Inn and Wendy's (I suspect all in the same day). Use your own judgement to evaluate that.

I will say that I noticed that the Indian buffet Finneus took us to on Monday for lunch was decent. The only two dishes which contained meat contained only chicken, and everything else tasted better (the chicken tikka masala tasted a bit half-hearted). They spontaneously refilled our naan with fresh naan without having to stand up or ask. It's great Indian, flavor forward, keeping the options simple, so far away from where I live. Know you should go to this one place if you go to Colorado Springs: Mirch Masala, 5945 N Academy Blvd., corner of Union and Academy. But seriously, it's new and it depressed me because it it was in one of the most massive mostly-empty strip malls in Colorado Springs. Otherwise, it was surrounded by chain restaurants.

It's a wonder Michael even eats at all, since his flavor background started here. But I can understand now completely how he drinks the way he does.

The cocktail that will make you vomit before you've had too many

Firstly, agar agar is generally used in petri dishes to cultivate controlled bacterial growth. A seaweed derivative, it has lots and lots of applications as a food additive for texture. These things aside, it is not food.

Secondly, I do care about waste reduction.

Thirdly, I love a good stiff drink more often than I would care to admit.

But come on! This is gross:

Our Edible Cups re-imagine the concept of drinking, and impart a new experience in the way they feel, taste, smell, and move. The cups are made of agar agar and cast in different flavors, such as lemon-basil, ginger-mint, or rosemary-beet, each specifically designed to compliment a corresponding drink. The cups can be nibbled on while drinking and any leftover remnants can be composted.

The very idea that a cup has the integrity of old jello is alone enough to leave this on the trash heap of bad ideas, even if they are compostable.

And really? Where do you get this liquor for these eco-cocktails, anyway? Can you compost the Absolute Vodka signature glass bottles? Here's an eco-tip: To save waste, just drink out of the bottle like I do.

To order or to learn more, visit thewayweseetheworld.com.

Foods suited for the shower

I got hungry in the shower yesterday (or whenever I last showered) and decided to review foods you can enjoy in the shower. First, I ruled out very broad categories. Pastry, for instance, is very sensitive to moisture so that rules out lots of foods from baguettes to empanadas to Hot Pockets. I ruled out anything served in a bowl: you don't want to water down your soup or cool your oatmeal. Anyway, splash factor makes the notion untenable. For that matter, anything served on a plate is out for many reasons, the simplest of which is drain clogging. Also, water would wash dressings and sauces right off. Most hand-held foods have a pastry factor i.e. burritos, but there is one category that stands up to the shower foods test: fruits and vegetables. Anything that requires seasoning, dressing or dipping is out, so keep artichokes out of the bathroom. Anything requiring a utensil is out such as grapefruit or avocado.

Although I've almost ruled out all food, here are my top three:

Bananas! Be sure to discard the peal where it is not prone to fall on the floor of your shower, otherwise it will create a (albeit hilarious) safety hazard.

Plumbs! The satisfying juiciness of a perfectly ripe plumb is in other contexts problematic. The way juices foster sticky hands and roll down your chin and onto your clothes is never a problem in the shower.

Carrots! Be sure to peal your carrot elsewhere and avoid carrot sticks, otherwise have at it. Mr. Carrot loves the water and his refreshing crunch will enhance your sensual shower experience.

Tofutti: Cursed with more than a dumb name

Michael, the other contributor to this blog, is hilariously disabled from processing dairy. God knows he tries but you don't want to stick around after his last bite of that cheese sandwich. I make fun of him mercilessly since he has to ask for "no cheese" when I'm drunk enough to agree to go out to eat with him. It's embarrassing.

In any case, his dietary disability also exposes him to really gross dairy substitutes. He puts clearance soy milk on his cereal and stocks margarine in his fridge. Margarine. I only bring it up today because he made me tacos. Simple bean-rice-egg tacos. Of course I had cooked the beans perfectly earlier this week and his assembly as you can see was a little Holly Hobby, but there was nothing wrong with his tacos. I'm still full.

Unfortunately Michael forgot to specify that he had purchased a sour cream substitute. Please don't get me wrong, soy products are really great when they're great, but very poor when they're poor. The Tofutti company of Australia has decided to sell Michael a soy product which demonstrates the limited, almost destructive abilities of the soy bean. I generously applied the white substance which I believed (for good reason) was the real thing. The industrial cooks who invented this product got the texture just right, but upon first bite it became clear that they gave up before any of them considered the taste. Sour Cardboard.

Will I let Michael dupe me into another food replacement meal? Probably. I'm a little too hungry to say no.

Make this, but follow the instructions carefully...

The Perfect Grilled Cheese

Best made one-at-a-time for the home cook and eaten immediately. If you are trying to impress someone with your handle on things you ate when you were 6, consider setting up a station with two or more skillets. Avoid panini presses at all costs because our parents never intended to feed us ten dollar sandwiches. The simple secret to the perfect grilled cheese is the application of heat to all bread surfaces.

Sliced sourdough bread, 3/4 to 1 inch

Gruyere

White American cheddar

Herbed chevre

Butter at room temperature

Salt

Pepper

Garlic cloves

Olive oil

Ironic t-shirt

Jeans that cost more than you pay for rent

Put on the clothes because those sweat pants you were wearing since you woke up at noon will not do. Warm a stainless steel skillet. Medium low or "3" seems to be the ideal setting on my hot plate. Butter both slices of sourdough bread on each side. Be generous. Apply just a touch of olive oil to the pan to prevent your sandwich from toasting too quickly. Your buttered pieces go down and get a nice crust, 90 seconds to 2 minutes. Remember that you are only toasting the inside of your sandwich so you are not perfecting the overall beauty, you are just enhancing taste and texture.

Congratulations! You have perfectly toasted the inside of your sandwich. It's time to start thinking about cheese. Think about how much you would slice gruyere and white cheddar for any other sandwich, then double it. Spread the chevre on one toasted surface and stack your cheeses. Add salt and pepper. Proceed with toasting the outer surface of your sandwich open-faced.

While you wait for the outer surface of your sandwich to transform into golden brown goodness, talk to your friend (and if your friend is not near by, call him on your iPhone) about Craft american singles and Wonder Bread. Mention Campbell's tomato soup as you warm something called "organic tomato tarragon bisque." Be sure to have a conversation for no longer than 3 minutes, otherwise your sandwich will burn.

Close your sandwich like a good book. Once your sandwich has cooled for a moment, halve a garlic clove and rub the exposed side on the exterior surfaces. You're ready to eat.

Consider enjoying your sandwich with cornichons. Drink a PBR. Even though you don't have a job, plan on moving to Williamsburg.