Thankfully, I brought the Xbox with me to Austin, and have some photos ordered from Snapfish, so this corporate apartment in South Austin doesn’t feel like I’m under house arrest. I look out over the garden center of a Home Depot, and the complex sits right on the frontage road of a major Austin freeway. It doesn’t take much to get the mental picture, but I’m thankful to GSD&M; for putting me up here for sure. Oh, and I’ve also discovered the magic of Redbox, and the danger of being next door to a Chick-Fil-A.
Okay, I know that constantly animating .gif images are not in the realm of web page best practices, but this one illustrates one of my favorite blog finds of late: the play-by-play funny coverage of this season of Top Chef on L.A. Eater.
You can read the latest post here, and can track back for reviews of your favorite episodes. They’re haters when it comes to Carla, but I can’t help but loving this wild-eyed kook of a Southern sister.
Favorite excerpt of this week’s episode review, (which had little to do with Top Chef):
“I am going to start watching Chopped. If you’ve seen that show, you know that the secret ingredients are always presented in a black leather picnic basket. Weird, right? That’s the sort of picnic where everyone drinks Scotch and snorts Valium. Creepy.”
It’s one of those days. It’s raining in L.A. There’s too much work to do and it’s already lunch on Friday. One of those days when you might just need a little laugh.
This is a not-quite-an-oldie-but-still-goodie. From Videogum, this Best of Viral Video ’08 has some stuff you’ve probably seen, and some other stuff you haven’t. It’s all funny and silly. This was found on Adland from a post last month.
Uhm, too bad they dumped you off on the folding table, Baby Jesus, after the church Christmas pageant. You look like you’re having a nice nap. Maybe you drank too much wine and just passed out. Nice swaddling clothes.
Henry made it through the 4:00 p.m. show as an angel – without having a meltdown or trying to poop his pants whilst the three wise men entered the manger.
From Real Pie Media sent over what I think may be one of the best industry Christmas presents I’ve gotten in years: Internet Gloves. The handcrafted, fingerless knit gloves (they arrived along with the knitter’s business card) was accompanied by a Mad Men themed guidebook to enjoying “. . . the warmth of gloves while still having the freedom to surf the internet [sic] at professional-level speeds.” Favorite headline: “PowerPoint Is More Effective with Jazz Hands.”
Here’s a photo of the Internet Gloves on my desk, also featuring my newly arrived 2009 R.E.M. fan club calendar under the paperweight I got at a King Tut exhibit at LACMA.
Caro’s good friend at A.E.G. invited us to the gala opening of L.A. Live. I think the Los Angeles Times got it right in their review: the garish, monolithic venue is hardly the kind of development that has any appeal to anyone living nearby, and has the feel of a tacky cruise ship, but overall it’s impressive in scale. It definitely ties the Staples Center more closely to the urban grid, and the view of the new Ritz Carlton/JW Marriott tower as you approach from Olympic is pretty impressive (if you find a skyscraper with a big edifice impressive).
The plaza was screaming with ads, and blaring music, but then again there was a huge event going on. We went to the taping of the CBS Grammy Nominations Concert. I was psyched to see the Foo Fighters, although you knew they’d only be playing one song. Celine Dion wasn’t bad (anyone who sings that well is interesting to see live for a song) – same for Mariah Carey. Taylor Swift couldn’t sing her way out of a paper bag. Luckily, the Jonas Brothers didn’t sing, since every time they moved their heads a few dozen girls who squeel until their heads were about to pop off. They’re like The Beatles, only irrelevant and forgettable.
After, we went to the VIP area of Club Nokia and the Jonas Brothers followed us there. Janet Jackson was also there, with a bodyguard or ten. Some other random music types. Great club space though. Both the theater and club are great performance spaces. There is also a Grammy Museum, which we didn’t catch. I think we’ll wait until someone comes to visist before we check that out.
The oddest thing was that the entrance to the museum opening party was across from the vents from the ESPNZone restaurant kitchen. So as you walked up to the entrance you couldn’t help but get your hair blown about by a blast of hot fried buffalo wing air. Miss Jackson, nice to meet you – you smell like a curly fry . . .
From the Los Angeles Times, this article in last Wednesday’s Food section touted the awesomeness of the Roast Salted Turkey. We rinsed and dried a 22 pound monster turkey (we have fourteen people coming to dinner on Thursday) – a Butterball we got at Pavillion’s on sale for ten bucks – and sprinkled it with kosher salt as the recipe called for. The big bird wouldn’t fit in a 2.5 gallon Ziploc bag, so we put it in a thirty gallon garbage bag and sucked out the air with a plastic straw from one of my kid’s drink cups. That’s right – I sucked the air out of the sucker to get that dry salt brine right up against the skin. No, I didn’t ingest any salted raw turkey juice. Yes, it’s going to rock on Thanksgiving. Apparently the advantage of this method of brining is that the cooking process won’t leave the pan dripping too salty, and I can get a good gravy from the roasting pan.
Best comment of the week: I was trussing the turkey up in the classic French manner for roast chicken (per Julia Child’s cookbook) with a mattress needle and butcher’s twine I got at Surfa’s (the best chef’s supply store in L.A., if not the country). Robin and Caroline were in the kitchen watching me thread the twine through the huge turkey, and Robin commented on the impressiveness (not all positive) of tying up a turkey. Caroline’s response:
“That’s right. I married him for his meat needle.”
It’s going to be a great Thanksgiving weekend.
He’s making out with a shark balloon. Actually, the balloon guy was pretty cool. The only funny part was that the Sharpie on the balloon hadn’t dried before the make out session. So Henry has permanent shark teeth outlines on his face. He’s trying to simultaneously force a piece of Carvel ice cream into his mouth while kissing the shark.
He used too much teeth and shortly after this photo was taken, the shark ended up missing the lower jaw. Still, he became so attached to it that he wanted to take it to bed with him. Yeah, that sounds a little weird.
Thanks to our friends, Todd and Lisa Waks, for hosting a killer 2-year-old party for their son, Logan.
We went to see a movie at a complex in Newport on the river across from downtown Cincinnati. We come across something named ‘Jefferson’ in every town we visit. There is a converted highway span that is now a pedestrian bridge called the Purple People Bridge that takes you to the Kentucky side of town.