Friday, November 22, 2013


  1. By the way, I do want you folks to know that I am pursuing the San Francisco State University story concerning the call for the murder of "colonizers."

    I have contacted the office of university president, Les Wong. and will be following up next week, but mainly after the Thanksgiving holiday.

    Some of you know that I am an alumnus of this university and, therefore, this cuts close to the bone.

    In truth, you should know, SFSU has always been more radical than Berkeley.

    1. Good to know, Mike. I had figured you would. Thanks!


      I just hopped off the El a couple stops early at Girard, to stop in for a beer at Kraftwork on the way home. A special there tonight is a $28 filet & foie gras cheesesteak w/ fresh-shaved Burgundy black truffles. All I could muster in response to this news was a brief horizontal head shake and a slight frown.

      I still don't quite know what exactly to make of such a travesty...

    2. Foie gras cheesesteak?

      I have no words for such an abomination.

      By the way, I am one of those rare individuals who absolutely loathes truffles.

      I love mushrooms, but there is something about the very smell of truffles that I find revolting.

      But, you should know, Jay, that I am learning about the deliciousness of shrimp 'n grits.

      I have recently had a shrimp 'n grits epiphany!

    3. Tell me about it. Thirteen hours later, there are still no words! ;)

      Sounds like you need to take a road trip through the South, Mike. While you're down there, send me back some Alabama white barbecue sauce and some Creole oxtail soup. Thanks!

    4. Ha, and that's funny. I was just taking stock of my pantry (okay, the crooked cabinet above my kitchen sink that's slowly coming loose from the wall, like everything else in this sadly, poorly-maintained, but still beautiful, century-old North Philadelphia brick rowhouse... but pantry sounds nicer), and found a still half-full quart container of organic, locally grown- and ground, stone-ground grits from Doylestown, PA's Castle Valley Mill, that I had completely forgotten about.

      I wonder if they're still any good? I vaguely recall picking them up at Reading Terminal Market about a year ago. They look okay, and some quick internet research seems to indicate they should be fine.

      Brisket and grits would make for an awesome meal on my upcoming four-day weekend...

    5. I am suddenly put to mind of the scene in My Cousin Vinny wherein Joe Pesci and Marisa Tomei, from New York City, are having breakfast in some diner in the deep south. The short-order cook hands Pesci a plate with bacon, eggs, and grits.

      Pesci looks down at his plate and points to the grits and says, "What's that?"

      And the cook says, "Those are grits. What? You've never heard of grits?"

      And Pesci says, "Oh, sure, I've heard of grits. I just never actually saw a grit before."


      Cracks me up!

    6. Mr. Gambini, are you mocking me with that outfit?


      I gotta watch that one again soon...

    7. I had grits all the time growing up in NJ, btw. I never even realized they were a Southern thing until well into my teens, when I started becoming interested in our foodways.

      I'm originally from South Jersey, of which certain parts many folks can attest share more with Alabama or South Carolina than New York (or even Pennsylvania), but then my parents took me back up to North Jersey, where they're from, when I was just a few years old.

      Though I'm certainly not a Southerner by any means, I do believe that somewhere deep down inside, I can never feel fully comfortable above the 40 degree northern latitude line. Philadelphia is my natural home, and I do not find it at all a coincidence that it just so also happens to be at the northern-most point of my comfort range. ;)

    8. Grits! The perfect food! This old Georgia boy ate a ton of those over the years. Yum.

    9. Though it's decidedly non-kosher, I do believe I will, one day very soon, have some scrapple & grits in your honor, Doodad.

      Southeast Pennsylvania, represent! ;-p

    10. This is not an empty promise, either. I just arrived home from Reading Terminal Market, with a loaf of Amish scrapple, so this will happen sooner than you think! ;)

    11. Amish scrapple?


      So, scapple is basically head cheese, is that not correct?

      And what you're telling me is "scrapple 'n grits"?

      Shrimp 'n grits, OK, but scrapple 'n grits?

      I won't sleep tonight!

    12. Scrapple is much more than just head. Heart, liver, lungs, etc etc, are also prominently involved!

      Scrapple is the single greatest comfort food in the world.

  2. Gambini: Is it possible the two "yoots"--

    Judge: Two what? What was that word?

    Gambini: What word?

    Judge: Two what?

    Gambini: What?

    Judge: Did you say yoots?

    Gambini: Yeah, two yoots.

    Judge: What is a yoot?

    Gambini: Excuse me your Honor, two "youths."

    1. Heh. A 'Ute' is defined as the most consistently inconsistent college football team in the Pac-12, of course!

    2. And while we're on geography, I'd also note that Utah is one of the most startlingly beautiful places on earth - I doubt I could live there, but if I could afford it, I'd spend a week there every year!

      I spent half a day there on my move back east from Oregon last year, killing time while waiting to meet up with a friend in Salt Lake City on a Friday afternoon.

      I drove straight through Oregon and Idaho during the night, and got to Utah much earlier than anticipated.

      Like, sunrise early.

      I didn't mind, since as I knew from prior experience, it's a beautiful state. I was supposed to meet my friend for a (very) late lunch in Salt Lake City, and since I was so early I kept going, down to Provo, where I wandered its downtown and ate an early lunch from two different taco carts in front of the courthouse.

      The mountains are so, like, right there, man! It's astonishing. I even asked my friend if she sometimes feels claustrophobic living there. I mean, it's beautiful and all, but the mountains are like... well, you know.

      I miss real mountains, if nothing else (well, okay, real Mexican food too...), from the west coast...

  3. 28 degrees fahrenheit at 5 pm. Yeah, winter's on its way...