A Tums tablet, quick. Just throw the whole roll at me and let it ricochet off my heavy and lifeless head. The weekend was one of epic eating, including an early AM (as in just past PM) visit to the BCD Tofu House on Wilshire. I was laughing for most of the meal with my seven companions, but usually at unintentional humor. We were with some Germans and a few of them were unaccustomed to true Korean cuisine. One guy sat sullenly with his arms folded for the entire meal. His friend, acting as spokesperson, explained, "Chris does not like Asian food, but that is his problem. We are not in Germany." It was hard to find schnitzel and bratwurst at that hour.
And then a fight broke out at the opposite end of the restaurant. All patrons, with their stone bowls of steaming tofu soup and hot plates of kalbi, fell silent and nervous, openly watching the waiter try to mollify the screaming (and drunk) customer. I had forgotten that male voices could actually hit such octaves. This angry gentleman probably had to use a vocal technique from the back of his throat to achieve that strange yodel-shriek -- not unlike what Jewel used often on her first album. I didn't understand a word of Korean and asked our Korean hook-up to interpret. "What are the substantive portions?" I kept pressing. "It's just motherfucker, fuck you, that type of stuff," he explained, garden variety cussing.
Not much to say about Highlands except that it really felt like we were either in Tehran or Azerbaijan. Now, more power to ethnic diversity, and yes, Beijing had a strong showing, as well. But I think now we are heading more towards the lack of ethnic diversity as I probably would have more likely bumped into Jesus at the bar than a good old-fashioned whitey. Of course, if I did bump into Jesus, that takes care of both.
Am I stupid for almost wanting to buy the Magic Bullet? Infomercials mesmerize me, with their slick, prestidigitating demos and overdone discount dealing. I've watched the Magic Bullet one many times over, desperate late at night for tongue-in-cheek comic relief. I remembered Mick and Mindy well from their Red Devil-peddling days. I could go on forever about the formulaic elements of the infomercial -- the befuddled housewife/girl Friday who asks all the right questions, the studio audience member picked at random surprised by how good it is, the grandma with seven grandkids who can really use this, etc. But this zippy little machine does seem to be good for making smoothies. (And, incidentally, chocolate mousse, omelettes, muffins, Margaritas, ground coffee, guacamole, salsa, and fruit sorbet.)
Well, I am still going to hold out for my adorable pink Kitchenaid blender.
posted by Lucy Sloan @ 1:29 AM
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