Caustically Optimistic

food network star

I didn’t have television in Phoenix or Hartford so being back at my parent’s house has been an adjustment. I always forget how much I enjoy watching reality television – especially the shows that detail the lives of celebrities passed their prime.

I have also become a fan of food television, or is it the slow fat kid channel? I’m not sure what it’s called but we have been watching a lot of programs that show the cooking and eating of food. This has worked out brilliantly for me since that is what I tend to be doing while watching television.

I watched a show about a restaurant that I used to frequent when I lived in Phoenix and that made me want pancakes. There were other shows after that on pancakes and how different places make them. This inspired me to make pancakes for myself instead of my original impulse to have McDonald’s or Cracker Barrel make me pancakes. My parents are away at the family reunion so, while we do a lot of our own cooking, we’ve become too lazy to do anything.

Making the pancake batter was surprisingly simple. I have made pancake batter before – its not rocket science but this one show used their Kitchen Aide to make sure the batter was perfect, which I did as well. Then, following their advice to cook the pancakes I made breakfast for Chaos Bean and myself.

Of course, this didn’t go as planned. First, the Food Network shows you how to make something but it doesn’t condescend to describe cleaning up after the cooking. So while I had followed their directions to the letter and eventually enjoyed the pancakes cleaning the mess took twice as long as the preparation and eating did together. Also, one batch of pancakes shouldn’t make that much mess because I used the Kitchen Aide but my father is a chef and the Kitchen Aide on our counter is the size of a Volkswagen. We have others but I have no idea where in the equipment pantry they are or if I can lift them.

I also cooked the pancakes using the wrong frying pan, and thank Jesus (or whatever demon you worship)* that Chaos Bean realized this before I washed this – not realizing that some pots and pans, while mixed with the pedestrian pots and pans are not for everyday or untrained use. These same pots and pans also need to be washed with care. These same super pans burned the pancakes because, well, they’re magic. I’m Lutheran; we don’t have magic, free well, or predetermination. We do have Oxford Commas, chips on our shoulders, and an engrossment with bar-shaped desserts and cookies but no magic. Chaos Bean was gracious and said they were, “too brown,” which would have been like saying that Hiroshima had experienced urban renewal.

If I hadn’t used the wrong pan the pancakes would have still been terrible. I know this because when I realized how I was making them wrong I adjusted how I was cooking so that I could give Chaos Bean a breakfast of pancakes that didn’t look like so many denizens of Long Island and Phoenix have been in the sun too long. Chaos Bean has an awful job, I know because she hired me on part-time, and she deserves a good breakfast because that’s the only good thing that may happen in her day.

My point is this: I used special flour for baking special breads and this flour is very salty. My uncle is talented in making pancakes and has pioneered methods of putting fruit in them without burning them or the pancakes being disgusting. My friend, who writes Suburban Island, makes the best reservations for breakfast that you’ll ever take someone up on. I have pioneered a new pancake: the Pretzel Pancake. So, beyond making a mess of the kitchen and being over-cooked they were salty. I was really disappointed that I hadn’t gotten good pancakes out of the deal and had to face an enormous mess as a result of my efforts. I wonder if this was some sort of rare kitchen karma.

To ward against this happening again Chaos Bean and I went to the place where restaurants buy their food and stocked up on things you throw in the oven and then take back out. Sure, it’s not nutritious, delicious, or in any way something you should ingest but so far its not been burnt or tasted the way it should not so we’re going with what is successful.

*Spritopias: now 33% more inclusive and fortified with your daily serving of political correctness.

Radio Free Chaos Bean

On Friday I was listening to the talk radio and this woman asks the host if she is ready to be a parent. She explains that she is not sure that she is emotionally or financially ready to be a parent. The host responded that she was ready to do it if she was mature enough to ask that question. I thought that good advice until I remembered that I was listening to Adam Carolla – formerly of Love Line – because he is a crass retard (not unlike myself) and not because knows what he is talking about. Danny Bonaduci corroborated his sage wisdom.

You can tell that I am an immigrant because I put “the” in funny places.

Chaos Bean and I have two uncles who are young enough to be our brothers. If we need advice we ask Drew and Danny. We do what Drew suggests and do the exact opposite of what Danny tells us to do. Why? Danny is retarded. It may be the name. It may a coincidence. It may be completely random but I am going to stick by our long-standing “Danny is retarded” policy. I am sure there is something to be said for Mr. Bonaduci; he has turned his life around and drives a German car and I respect that. My uncle, however, volunteers at the Special Olympics he is hoping something positive will rub off on him.

I have decided that I should stop with the Internet journals and writing. I should be on the radio. Chaos Bean and I should have a show – we would be on in the afternoon or early evening because the only times we are up and alert at four in the morning is when we have not yet been to bed. Chaos Bean thinks we should be on the television because we are just as fun to watch but then I would have to worry about combing my hair and not picking my nose. Also, people can listen to the radio anywhere. People do that while driving but have no business watching TV while driving. Also, being on television robs us of the chance to piss off the blind. I could care about the deaf and you can tell them I said that.

Chaos Bean and I have all the qualifications to be radio hosts: we have unqualified opinions, sketchy pasts and we are very funny. We also drink too much, can shout someone down O’Reilly Factor style and the Bean knows where to throw down if you want to have fun.

This idea is one of my better ones. I should get the Alex Vance on this right away. This will be genius. If any of you have a radio station you want to be really popular really quickly then you should contact the Alex Vance expeditiously.

We Hold These Truths To Be Self-Evident

Have you read the Constitution or the Declaration of Independence? They make a big deal of how Ben Franklin went over one and James Madison combed the other to make sure everything was “just right.” Could someone have gone over them for grammar? I know many of you liberals are confused about what I am talking about since most of you have never read either document but for those of us who have, and understand our language, are baffled that the content is so excellent while the grammar is monstrous.

Some say that I am impossible to please, when really this is not the case. I am just so easily irritated that people rarely get an opportunity to make me happy. However, Time Magazine, which I subscribe to for my students, told me today that Fraggle Rock is now on DVD. How fantastic is this? I loved that show back when I watched television. There is nothing about that show I did not like. I hope someone buys it for me because I am not running out and buying it.

I know I promised to talk about the wedding, but it was short, ugly, uncomfortable and despite my best effort I could not escape the sinking feeling that I was shitting all over the memory of my Grandmother just by being there. I know many of you have healthy families where Grandpa moving on would be a good thing, but our situation is different. Grandma was not properly buried and was never given anything nice in her life. This was disgusting in contrast to her life. There should be some Victorian-era standard of grieving subscribed to people, this remarriage was too quick to be tasteful.