Sushi will be my downfall. Wait, that makes it sound bad, doesn't it? Ok, it's my up-not-fall. Better? Freaking sushi. I mean (and bear with me for the next little bit, I'm writing from the heart here. I ain't adding any professional englishism to these next words. These are the words I would say to you, in person) I haven't always loved weird foods. I was always kinda skeptical of weird things. And things that aren't even that weird. But hell, I'll try leather shoe now, just season it correctly, please. But one of the things I have always enjoyed is a good sushi. And don't be politically Japanesically correct with me now, I don't need it. Sushi is sushi to me. Don't care if its california rolls or raw (insert your pet's name here). To me, it is what it is. I always said I wouldn't try the raw stuff. Creeps me out. So I just ate the crab ones or chicken ones.. keeping it simple for a simple guy. But recently, I've branched out a bit. Spread my wings if you will. Raw's in, but with it comes the tapeworm, or so I've heard. Oh well. So tonight we (we being me and others) checked out the new place downtown that I can't remember the name of. All you can eat, 20 bucks. May seem expensive, but it's not. I've paid more than that for a fifth of the food. I had some crazy things. Eel, salmon skin, full soft shell crab within a maki, it's all good.
I have a lot of respect for the Japanese. In this age, we like to cook your food twice, pre-cook food, deep-fry food, all to make it safe to eat. But it's also very unhealthy. These Japaners are just like "Screw it. See this salmon I just caught? There, it's on your place. Eat it, it's good." They probably say that in Japanese but I think I'm the only one around here that speaks the language so I won't bother. But the thing is, they are so right. They got cajones. (balls)
These days, I have a whole lot more respect for them than I do for the Chinese. Typical Chinese household:
"Dear, we are out of rice."
"Well just throw Fluffy in the crackpot then"
"Ok."
Now, I love meat. I swear though, if you ever even TALK about cooking my cat, we are finished. No two ways about it.
Last thing. Might I encourage all of you this weekend to go out there and try something different? I'm just talking about food at the moment. Try something you wouldn't normally eat. Unless it gives you hives. Seriously, we always assume we don't like something before we even try it. The Japanese wouldn't eat raw fish if it wasn't good. The Polish wouldn't eat perogies if they weren't the best meal in the whole world. The Italians wouldn't eat italian food if they didn't steal all their ideas from China. You get my point. And that's my challenge to you. Keep chewin'.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Zach's New Personality.
In my life, I try my best to be a kind person. May be not so much with my words, as I was born immediately sarcastic and maybe a tad critical, but at least with my actions. I mean, ridicule aside, I don't think I've ever truly yelled at a person with seriousness in my voice.
However, after watching a number of celebrity chef Gordon Ramsay's TV shows, I think that is going to change.
I've had the privilege of watching one of his older shows called Gordon Ramsay's Boiling Point on a "completely legal" website that a compadre of mine showed me, the name of which I can't mention merely because the site in question hasn't paid me for advertisement, and that just wouldn't be fair. I've always loved Gordon Ramsay. His shows such as Hell's Kitchen and Kitchen Nightmares amaze me and have actually taught me quite about the food industry, whether it be cleanliness, how to prepare certain things, or just other lessons that can be applied in other areas of your life. And how has he come to be so well-respected and revered?
He yells. A lot.
Tell you what, you live through a Ramsay dinner service without being yelled at even once, you've done a hell of a job. But this is why he is so successful. He's got many restaurants, almost all of which have got Michelin Stars, and he is one of the most famous chefs out there. He is making millions. On this particular episode, he was opening his very first restaurant, simply called Gordon Ramsay, if I remember correctly. He seemed to have it out for a certain waiter, who made the grave error of wearing a blue bandaid on his finger. Now, I probably wouldn't have done this myself. It stands out more than a white or skin colored one, and probably isn't to appetizing when you are thinking about food. To the waiter's defence, he claimed they were the only ones he had, and he was in a rush. Ooooh, big mistake. The last thing Ramsay wants to hear are excuses. I learned that early on. He ripped on the pair youngster for what seems like minutes, I swear some tears were welling up. This guy was one mistake short of being sacked. For wearing the wrong color of bandaid.
So I'm turning over a new leaf. I figure if he is going to make millions, I may as well jump on the bandwagon. Everytime someone makes a mistake, even just a slip-up, I don't care if you leave your bedroom light on when you aren't in there. I'm gunna find you, and I'm gunna yell. And yell. And then I'll be rich. Foolproof isn't it? Let me know what you think. (Or maybe you shouldn't, anger might spew from my lips)
WHO LEFT CRUMBS ON THE COUNTER?!
However, after watching a number of celebrity chef Gordon Ramsay's TV shows, I think that is going to change.
I've had the privilege of watching one of his older shows called Gordon Ramsay's Boiling Point on a "completely legal" website that a compadre of mine showed me, the name of which I can't mention merely because the site in question hasn't paid me for advertisement, and that just wouldn't be fair. I've always loved Gordon Ramsay. His shows such as Hell's Kitchen and Kitchen Nightmares amaze me and have actually taught me quite about the food industry, whether it be cleanliness, how to prepare certain things, or just other lessons that can be applied in other areas of your life. And how has he come to be so well-respected and revered?
He yells. A lot.
Tell you what, you live through a Ramsay dinner service without being yelled at even once, you've done a hell of a job. But this is why he is so successful. He's got many restaurants, almost all of which have got Michelin Stars, and he is one of the most famous chefs out there. He is making millions. On this particular episode, he was opening his very first restaurant, simply called Gordon Ramsay, if I remember correctly. He seemed to have it out for a certain waiter, who made the grave error of wearing a blue bandaid on his finger. Now, I probably wouldn't have done this myself. It stands out more than a white or skin colored one, and probably isn't to appetizing when you are thinking about food. To the waiter's defence, he claimed they were the only ones he had, and he was in a rush. Ooooh, big mistake. The last thing Ramsay wants to hear are excuses. I learned that early on. He ripped on the pair youngster for what seems like minutes, I swear some tears were welling up. This guy was one mistake short of being sacked. For wearing the wrong color of bandaid.
So I'm turning over a new leaf. I figure if he is going to make millions, I may as well jump on the bandwagon. Everytime someone makes a mistake, even just a slip-up, I don't care if you leave your bedroom light on when you aren't in there. I'm gunna find you, and I'm gunna yell. And yell. And then I'll be rich. Foolproof isn't it? Let me know what you think. (Or maybe you shouldn't, anger might spew from my lips)
WHO LEFT CRUMBS ON THE COUNTER?!
Monday, January 28, 2008
My Outrageous Blog Name, the 80s, and the Stunning Inability of Some to Do a High Five.
Let me start by saying that I am convinced that literally every blog in the world starts off with the blogger writing about why he has decided to write this blog (someone made him) and fair enough - it's good to know the reasons behind it. Nevertheless, I have decided to become the first of my kind, a pioneer if you will, to not do just that. So you may just never know why I came to the decision of writing one. Adds to the mystery. Chicks dig mystery. Or so I'm told.
Now I'm sure all zero of you that are reading this are wondering about the very odd moniker I've given this blog. Writer's block will do wonders, but we can break it down.
Buttercup: This one is attributed to the sport of squash - one that I am determined was created for men between the ages of 30 and 55 that are slightly overweight but are in surprisingly good shape, or at least so it would seem. I really feel like the minority when I make my way to the Y. Ninety percent of the squash players fit that description, and despite my being 20 years their junior, and not overweight (well maybe a little, but I'm working on it), and in good shape, I can just tell these guys would all soundly kick my ass. But hey, I'm a rookie.
Me and Andrew, my main squash playing friend, decided that we wanted squash-type nicknames. He was to be the classic, Butternut, whereas I started researching. All of the kinds I saw were kind of boring: acorn, spaghetti, etc. And thus, Buttercup was born. I had some headbands made online to celebrate the occasion. Embroidered and everything. They seemed cheap, $9.50 each. After shipping, and other fees, over sixty bucks for two headbands. Oh well, they were worth it.
The Fist of Legend: I recently purchased Rock Band. Best game ever, might I add. If you don't know the premise of the game, it's Guitar Hero with bass, drums, and singing added. So much better.
Now, to some of you, Fists of Legend may just be the title of a Jet Li Movie (either him, or that other Asian martial artist who chops tables). For me, it's the name of my brother and I's band. And we rock. Hard. We have something like 350,000 fans, we play gigs from Seattle to Reykjavik, we have our own jet, and I've got sexy long hair. So realistic. We'll be coming to a venue near you soon.
A good friend of mine Ms. Julie, has her birthday party this week. (Happy 20th to her) Theme: the 80s. Now I'll admit, I was a bit skeptical of this theme from the beginning. After all, I was only alive for a little more than seven months of it, and I'll be honest, I didn't pick up all that many fashion tips. However, after a bit of research, it seems like the easiest decade ever to dress up for. You just wear bad clothes. Badly. It's basically just like my regular life. You have to make sure the clothes are bright colors, and they have to clash horribly. Shiny was in. I went to Value Village the day of, and picked out this fantastic outfit: Shiny purple tearaways (ok, maybe 90s, give me a break), a bright t-shirt, and a clashing track jacket. Throw in aforementioned headband and some wristbands, yellow socks and some oldschool sneakers, you got yourself a nice one. I'm seriously considering wearing this outfit just regularly, I love it so much.
At the party, I was having a nice chat with my friend Kate, when, for whatever reason, we exchanged a high-five. Let me just say, it was the worst high-five I have ever experienced. And hey, I'm not being mean, we've talked thoroughly about this. This high-five had no emotion. There was no relaxation in the arm or hand, it was stiff as hell, and it just bounced back. It shouldn't bounce. It should be smooth and flowing. I quickly taught her all that I know about the high-five, and thankfully, she has improved, albeit a bit slower than I had been hoping. I started going around the room to show her how easy it is, and how pretty much everyone knew how to do it. I was appalled. I swear that barely anyone knows how to do it anymore. Now, don't get me wrong, everyone has their own style, but you should at least be able to do it without embarrassing yourself. I am honestly going to start a school for this. That's how passionate I am.
That's all for now.
Now I'm sure all zero of you that are reading this are wondering about the very odd moniker I've given this blog. Writer's block will do wonders, but we can break it down.
Buttercup: This one is attributed to the sport of squash - one that I am determined was created for men between the ages of 30 and 55 that are slightly overweight but are in surprisingly good shape, or at least so it would seem. I really feel like the minority when I make my way to the Y. Ninety percent of the squash players fit that description, and despite my being 20 years their junior, and not overweight (well maybe a little, but I'm working on it), and in good shape, I can just tell these guys would all soundly kick my ass. But hey, I'm a rookie.
Me and Andrew, my main squash playing friend, decided that we wanted squash-type nicknames. He was to be the classic, Butternut, whereas I started researching. All of the kinds I saw were kind of boring: acorn, spaghetti, etc. And thus, Buttercup was born. I had some headbands made online to celebrate the occasion. Embroidered and everything. They seemed cheap, $9.50 each. After shipping, and other fees, over sixty bucks for two headbands. Oh well, they were worth it.
The Fist of Legend: I recently purchased Rock Band. Best game ever, might I add. If you don't know the premise of the game, it's Guitar Hero with bass, drums, and singing added. So much better.
Now, to some of you, Fists of Legend may just be the title of a Jet Li Movie (either him, or that other Asian martial artist who chops tables). For me, it's the name of my brother and I's band. And we rock. Hard. We have something like 350,000 fans, we play gigs from Seattle to Reykjavik, we have our own jet, and I've got sexy long hair. So realistic. We'll be coming to a venue near you soon.
A good friend of mine Ms. Julie, has her birthday party this week. (Happy 20th to her) Theme: the 80s. Now I'll admit, I was a bit skeptical of this theme from the beginning. After all, I was only alive for a little more than seven months of it, and I'll be honest, I didn't pick up all that many fashion tips. However, after a bit of research, it seems like the easiest decade ever to dress up for. You just wear bad clothes. Badly. It's basically just like my regular life. You have to make sure the clothes are bright colors, and they have to clash horribly. Shiny was in. I went to Value Village the day of, and picked out this fantastic outfit: Shiny purple tearaways (ok, maybe 90s, give me a break), a bright t-shirt, and a clashing track jacket. Throw in aforementioned headband and some wristbands, yellow socks and some oldschool sneakers, you got yourself a nice one. I'm seriously considering wearing this outfit just regularly, I love it so much.
At the party, I was having a nice chat with my friend Kate, when, for whatever reason, we exchanged a high-five. Let me just say, it was the worst high-five I have ever experienced. And hey, I'm not being mean, we've talked thoroughly about this. This high-five had no emotion. There was no relaxation in the arm or hand, it was stiff as hell, and it just bounced back. It shouldn't bounce. It should be smooth and flowing. I quickly taught her all that I know about the high-five, and thankfully, she has improved, albeit a bit slower than I had been hoping. I started going around the room to show her how easy it is, and how pretty much everyone knew how to do it. I was appalled. I swear that barely anyone knows how to do it anymore. Now, don't get me wrong, everyone has their own style, but you should at least be able to do it without embarrassing yourself. I am honestly going to start a school for this. That's how passionate I am.
That's all for now.
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