“Oh, are you cooking?” she asked innocently.
“Well… in a way” I answered, and smiled big.

She didn’t think it was funny.

When will this show allow “writing snarky comments on Twitter” to be an acceptable talent? #AGT

Holy hot clogging criminal defense attorney, Batman! #AGT

If they clog to Lady GAGA i’m OUT. #agt

#AGT – NBC… once the home of Jerry Seinfeld,… now presents contemporary clogging

Great trick! Making Marilyn Monroe fat and ugly. #agt

#AGT will someone show America’s Got Talent how to use Google. There has to be better acts that this shit.

#AGT It’s like The Gong Show tonight  - where’s Jamie Farr?

Is that bulldog gonna ride a skateboard? #AGT

#AGT oh my god skateboarding bulldogs are older than Gilligan.

My cat can high-five. I’m going on #AGT

I’ve got a goldfish that eats on command. #agt Here I come!

#AGT this is the best worst skateboarding dog ever!

Click through for the best tweets from tonight’s YouTube Contestant’s Special

#AGT Parkour scares me. I get nervous when I go down the stairs too fast.

#AGT – ew… it’s Gumby meets JonBenet

This CANT be happening. Breaana Bell. #agt

#AGT It’s iris Mendowsky the hand-walking queer! #Beaches

this is like toddlers and tiaras on #agt. i’d like it better if they combined it with the parkour guys. maybe she’d get kicked in the face.

Is there any small child that #piersmorgan won’t buzz?!

Five acts into the #AGT YouTube audition, and I’m not impressed by any of them. Heck, that bulldog may actually make it at this rate!

The best thing about tonight’s show is that chick sitting behind Howie’s left shoulder. #agt

RT @SP_Belieber6: Omfg .. That midget that imitates Katy Perry Teenage Dream on Youtube is on #AGT .. That’s heroic ..

#AGT Is this the kid from Jerry Maguire?

#AGT – “Nick Cannon’s head weighs EIGHT POUNDS!”

#AGT is a dud so far. Someone either have a costume malfunction or die on stage soon

Really impressed with Gymkana, they have my vote! #agt

“no experience necessary gymnastics team?” I”m in! I have no experience in anything! #AGT

#AGT I ran into these fuckers once in The Matrix! #gymkana

So if a big group wins #agt, do the members each get a dollar?

“@Bambisixty9: #agt “who is Rebecca black?” Youtube and be prepared for massive disgust.

what seriously rebecca black on #AGT tomorrow? thank goodness for the mute option.

Dude on the bike was sick! #agt

#AGT put neon paint on me masturbating in the dark and I’ll look this impressive #OverIt

Saw a tweet: #agt pays 1 mil. $ over 40 years. True?

yes… read the end credits – #agt

So, the winner of #agt will get their final check around age 63? Just in time for non-existant social security to kick in.

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Apparently, wherever we’re going, you do not want me to drive.

I’m forever being reminded by Sean and Laura, two who claim to be friends, that rarely do I dare drive more than thirty miles an hour on the freeway, but that I’ll happily plow over the center divider and zip down the wrong side of any city street if it gets me through the light faster.

I’ve also been told that I’m not very good with driving directions.  On this point, I have to agree.  I have never enjoyed having a car.  As with most of society, I don’t like putting gas into it and I don’t like having to insure it, but my disinterest in the entire idea of automobiles goes even further.  I have no desire to keep the interior clean.  If a knob falls off of something and hopelessly rolls under the seat, as far as I’m concerned that’s the knob’s new home.  Somewhere in the trunk I may have jumper cables or a spare tire, but they’re completely buried underneath old laptops, empty luggage and 1990s mix tapes I made with my 1990s boyfriend.  For me, the automobile is mostly a trying and unfortunately necessary nuisance.  If Henry Ford and I met one day, it would be interesting to see which one of us would beat the shit out of the other first.

I can do a great many things well, but getting someone from Point A to Point B in my Chevy Malibu is not one of them.  Sure, like anyone I can be occasionally absent-minded.  Who among us hasn’t temporarily lost a pizza in their house only to find it under the bed after three hours of exhaustive searching?

But when it comes to successfully reaching a destination behind the wheel, I am only what can be politely called a pure and total abomination.  I have lived within the same twenty-mile stretch of Los Angeles for the last fifteen years, and I still get lost on the way home from work.  I once had to pull over to the curb and call my boyfriend to remind me what his cross-streets were.  As for the friendly British woman who tells me from the little box on the dashboard, “In one hundred feet, turn left…” she needs to learn that advance warnings like that do not help me.  They merely create a ball of anxiety in my stomach that increases over the next ninety-nine feet until I’m so worried I’ll disappoint her I completely forget what she told me to do in the first place.  And instead of ending up at Disneyland, I end up in Venezuela having to ask a rebel para-military group how to get back to the 101.

There have been times I’ve gotten so lost driving that I’ve considered giving up on finding my way back and just re-locating to wherever I currently am.  “It’s not too bad here,” I cheerily reason with myself.  “This place has a lot of appeal.  There are many available apartments. I could rent one today.  And look, a FotoMat!  That’s convenient.  Yes!  This is making more sense the longer I consider it.  I’ll just pull over and live here now.  True, I’d have to buy all new clothes, new furniture, and replace the cat.  Plus, since I don’t know where I am, it would be impossible for me to tell friends and family how to get here for a visit, so I guess it’s out with them, too!  But that’s not a bad trade-off for such a quick solution to my problem.  It’s just like the sign says… If I lived here, I would be home now.

But something curious and stimulating happens to me whenever I’m San Francisco.  Freed of my car in a town where walking is often easier and faster, I find I’m suddenly imbued with a superior sense of direction that emerges so unexpectedly and is so remarkably accurate it frightens everyone I know, me most of all.

It’s odd and unsettling.  I don’t understand it, but it’s true.  I can’t get you to the Hollywood sign though I live less than five miles from it, but I can get you anywhere in San Francisco.  If the City by the Bay is a charming, fog-infused maze, I’m the smartest baby rat in the box.

I can get you to Union Square just in case you want to say hello to the silver guy standing motionless on a box with a donation cup in hand. Or I can take you to Clown Alley on Columbus Street where Sean and I once encountered a traditional jazz funeral complete with brass band, dirges and hymns proceeding right through the middle of the Financial District.  If you want to see articulated skeletons of bats and rabbits, I can get you to Paxton Gate on Valencia Street. It’s right next door to the city’s only independent pirate supply store where you can scoop your own lard!

And once an afternoon of street performers, music and trying on hook hands has come to a close, I can get you to the hamburgers.

Heading east on Clay Street with a left on Hyde and another left on Union will lead you to Roam Artisan Burgers, where Laura and I checked in for an inaugural visit earlier this week.  Laura is not one to hold back her opinions with food she deems sub-standard.  Luckily for me she was, in her own words, “pretty damn comforted” by the comfort burgers served up at Roam. I was able to determine this for myself by the fact that her attention never drifted away from her meal long enough for her to start assigning disparaging names to the other customers like “Houseplant” “Soft Head” or “Bird Face.”

Roam’s burgers are 100% grass fed beef and free-range turkey (bison and veggie are also available options).  Ordering is at the counter, and seating is casual and roomy with long communal benches and traditional tables for smaller parties.  Our arrival time proved to be spot-on as within a few minutes of snagging our condiments and collecting them at our table, the line to order was spilling all the way out onto Union Street.

Laura ordered up the Turkey Tejano Burger which arrived oozing with pepper jack cheese mixed with a fresh jalapeño relish and topped with chunks of soft avocado, crisp tomato, white corn strips and herb ranch dressing.  Mine was the Pacific Blue Burger which came topped with blue cheese, watercress, tomato, steak sauce, and a landslide of caramelized onions. The Pacific Blue was thicker and more indulgent, while the Tejano was a perfect fusion of hot, spicy and creamy.  Laura and I could have easily swapped burgers and been just as happy.  Both came nicely held together by soft and sweetly flavored sesame seed buns, which can be substituted with a whole grain Pacific Coast Bakery bun for no extra charge.

Sides include russet fries, sweet potato fries and the fried zucchini “haystack.”  Or you can order a combination of all three in what Roam calls their “Fry-Fecta.” Additionally, the fries can be topped with specialty seasonings including truffle parmesan, fresh herbs and chipotle maple.  Beverages include Artisan sodas sweetened with house-made agave,  traditional milk shakes along with more exotic flavors like white peach, salted caramel and coconut, plus a selection of microbrews and sustainably-produced wines.

If you find yourself near Civic Center, make sure you steer your sneakers over to Pearl’s Deluxe Burgers, located on Post Street between Leavenworth and Jones.  The décor is decidedly underwhelming in the face of the yuppy zing you’ll find at Roam.  The menu is presented on an old school cafeteria board with additional items added on plain old copy paper taped to the wall.   The burgers don’t arrive at your table with any kind of upscale presentation either.  Mine showed up cradled in a standard plastic bucket tray lined with wax paper.  But the no-frills approach Pearl’s takes to showcasing doesn’t seem to have fooled any of the locals when it comes to the quality of what’s coming off the grill.  The exchange I heard between two customers in line said it all:

“What’s good here?”
“Everything’s good here.”

Fully acknowledging I might hate myself for it later, I took on the Spicy Sly: a half-pound burger topped with mayo, jack cheese, a bounty of red and green grilled peppers along with grilled onions and pumpkin habanero chili sauce.  The pleasure I felt as this stinging, sloppy meat creation dripped and clumped its way past my lips was matched only by the stamina required to keep my watering eyes from overflowing down onto my cheeks in public.

And for those burger buffs not interested in taking an “eat the heat” approach to their food, there are plenty of other burger styles at the ready: The Bula (pineapple and teriyaki), The Phat Bob (BBQ bacon with Jack cheese and onion rings), The Pesto (pesto, tomato mayo and Jack cheese).  And then there is… The “King” Burger: a quarter pound patty crowned by a hot dog and smothered with American cheese and Thousand Island dressing.  Currently, it does not come topped with a deep-fried Twinkie, but I’m sure the Pearl’s test kitchen has it in the pipeline.

I never worry about eating beyond my waistline when I’m in San Francisco.  In fact, when I’m in San Francisco, I don’t worry much at all, another side of personality that only seems to emerge when I’m here.  It could be the burgers, or the bay, or it could be Sean and Laura.  I don’t think I ever want to know what it is.  But I’m happy to know there’s at least one place in the world where I’m able to say that I know where I’m going.

cry_me_a_river.mp3

Written by Arthur Hamilton and originally recorded by Ella Fitzgerald, the song became Julie London’s biggest hit ever after being included in the 1956 film The Girl Can’t Help It starring Jayne Mansfield and Tom Ewell. Ewell plays an alcoholic press agent hired to promote Mansfield’s singing career based on his past (ficticious) success with real-life singer London.

Julie appears in the film as a serenading vision to an intoxicated Ewell, and makes it very clear where the film’s wardrobe budget went. The two minute parade of glam 1950s fashions is reason enough to send this flick up to the top of your Netflix queue.

By the way, did people routinely keep their booze in their kitchen cabinets during the 1950s? Is Tom just loading up on the cooking sherry? It’s not the first time I’ve seen the liquor stashed there in movies from this era. What exactly is going on?

Check out Julie London performing “Cry Me a River” from the film below.

VintageEnoteca.com

Lincolnshire Poacher, Bacon and Carmelized Onion on Country White Bread

As I turned off the fireplace and closed the blinds after the end of tonight’s Dancing with the Stars, I wondered if I was a contestant on the show, would I prefer to have an almost impeccable performance obliterated at the end by a really bad fall, or have the stumble right off the top and have the next ninety seconds or so to recover the way Kirstie Alley and Maksim Chmerkovskiy

The fall happening so close to their starting point did Maks and Kirstie the least amount of damage, I’d say.  They recovered quickly and gave the judges – and the entire room for that matter – some time to get past that horrifying communal gasp! moment that makes live television oh so much fun to watch for all the rest of us!  But still rough going for sure, and most uncomfortable as the show has been making the most of Kirstie’s weight battles up to this point. I’m guessing that will fall away for a while unless instigated by Kirstie herself.

The judges made the best of the awkward situation.  Carrie Ann said, “Sometimes tragedy leads to amazingly beautiful moments,” but quickly fell back on, “By the way… fantastic song choice!” a tell-tale sign that she was out of positive offerings.

Len was direct and succinct: “You overcame it.  You dusted yourself off and you came back stronger.”

Bruno: “Once you got up it was better than ever!”

Was Kirstie Alley really better than ever from that point forward?

No.

I rewound and watched it again, and the comments seemed to be more a well-cloaked case of pity praise.  Poor Maks did most of the dancing, grimacing through pain, while Kirstie sorta flitted dramatically all around him and threw her arms out a whole lot like she was on the back end of a Disney Princess parade float.

It wasn’t bad, to be sure.  But I didn’t think it was worth the SCORE of 21. Rather inflated, wouldn’t you say?

By the way, did you see the way Maks tore off camera once the scores were in, and both Cheryl and Tony quickly ran after him.  That didn’t look very promising, did it?

On the plus side, Kirstie will be the one all the morning news shows will be talking about. I’m sure the rest of the cast is gnashing their teeth.

Also not performing at top game tonight was the team of Ralph Macchio and Karina Smirnoff. Ralph came off as laid-back and gosh-darn lovable in week one, a little more scattered and awkward in week two.  This week, he was outright gangly, spending more time looking down at his feet than his partner.  And I gotta point this out… his poorly cut shirt did him NO FAVORS.  Step it up, wardrobe people!  You’re failing The Macchio.  The guy’s built like a tuning fork.  Start thinking less Matthew McConaughey and more Ruth Buzzi!

No, Ralph wasn’t so hot tonight.

But gosh-darn it, look at that sad visage of disappointment in his face.

Look at the puppy dog eyes.  He’s like a twelve year old whose dad just told him he didn’t demonstrate enough responsibility so he has to give up the paper route.

Forget what the judges had to say (middle-of-the-road comments and a SCORE of  21), that mopey little punim is gonna generate enough calls to keep Little Ralphy around for some time to come

Wendy Williams and Tony Dovolani – Mercifully, the producers decided to get Wendy out of the way first tonight.  After two weeks of watching her writhe and re-adjust like a plumber who refuses to admit he’s gotten too big around the middle to fit comfortably under the sink, is there much of a reason to suffer through it anymore?

Hey Look!  Wendy’s adopted the Dancing with the Stars “cheetah face” formerly executed to perfection by Bachelor Jake Pavelka.

The best thing to be said about Wendy is that she looks like she’s enjoying her time on the floor, and she’s not easily thrown.

SCORE: 15/30 – lots of booing from the judges, but I thought they were kind.

Chelsea Kane and Mark Ballas – If anyone who reads this knows my man Mark Ballas personally, would you please let him know that he can strike that pose and he can wear that t-shirt, but he can’t do both at the same time.

Mark committed a major faux pas tonight.  He strutted around in his and Chelsea’s tape package like the male cheerleader who was born with just a little too much pep to be able to tell when it’s appropriate and when it’s not.  In dancer circles, sashay shante all you like, Mark, but for God’s sakes, know your audience.  When your own partner tells you you’re more of a girl than she is, it’s time to stop dressing like Punky Brewster.

As for Mark and Chelsea’s cha cha, the two were playing it safe after the judges slapped them down for being too out of control last week.  It was pleasant, but I kept waiting for a little of the unexpected that generally characterizes Mark’s choreography.  It never happened.  They’re both capable of more ambitious dancing, but they went for safety scores this week, and they got them.

SCORE: 23/30

Chris Jericho and Cheryl Burke – Chris is over-dressed for the second week in a row. Who the fuck is dressing the men this season?

Chris danced to “Let It Be” in honor of his mother.  I’m not a big fan of “Story Week” on Dancing with the Stars.  Can we all be honest here.  It’s less “Story Week” and more “Sob Story Week” with the number of dead relatives and crushing personal blows we’re forced to slog our way through.

But you can’t really fault a grown man giving his passed mom some props.  Forget the “Let it Be” rhumba.  I just liked Chris acknowledging the photo of his mother on top of the 1970s stereo at the beginning of the dance.  It walked a nice, gentle line.

Of course, if you need to rip out some hearts through dance, there’s absolutely no one better to be paired with than Cheryl Burke, whose elegance and evocation routinely wow me.

Bruno:  ”An almost naked vulnerability… overall, I thought it was a good job.

Carrie Ann was in tears and congratulated Chris for being able to experience “what it feels like to tell a story and create a whole emotional response with movement.” She should have given some props to Cheryl right there too, but fell short.

Len was much more on the money in his praise of Cheryl, to the detriment of Chris: “You know, choreography can cover up a multitidue of mistakes and Cheryl did a great job… but it lost fluidity.”  The audience predictably booed, like they know better.  ”No need to boo it.  It’s the truth!” Len snapped back plainly. I like Len.

SCORE: a respectable but not overwhelming  21/30

Kendra Wilkinson and Louis Van Amstel - Somewhere in that cloud of paisley pink smoke stands former stripper, Kendra Wilkinson, waiting to be able to see the stage, the band, her hand in front of her… anything so she can just start her damn routine.

“That’s the last time we get a smoke machine at a garage sale,” announced Tom Bergeron. It did seem to throw Kendra a bit in her first few steps, didn’t it?  She even went out of her way to mention it to the judges, which she shouldn’t have done since it immediately put me in mind of Tonya Harding crying over her broken shoelace in Lillehammer back in 1992. You remember 1992… when reality shows only existed within other kinds of programming.

Len disliked all the Kendra-Louis grinding, but was impressed by the progress in Kendra’s legwork.

Bruno called the dance “hot and arousing.”

Carrie Ann said, “It wasn’t only the men that were getting excited,” and then made a sound that was akin to the Tarzan yell regularly done by JoAnne Worley (for those of you keeping track, that’s my second Laugh-In reference tonight).

As for the ongoing nods to Kendra being a former stripper, I’m going to lay off the wealth of humor that is right in front of me for one more week.  But if Dancing with the Stars plays that card one more time, the tassels are coming off.

SCORE: 23/30

Romeo and Chelsie Hightower looked particularly hot performing their rumba, all awash in white. This is the first time I have felt the need to pay these two any amount of attention. They really did look good together… a little hot evenl?  I don’t know about you, but I was having impure thoughts about both of them.

Bruno’s review was reverent but critical of Romeo’s footwork.

Carrie Ann excused “funky footwork” and applauded Romeo’s efforts at refining his movements.

Len: “Last week a huge step forward, this week a huge step back.”  Time fortunately did not allow Len to elaborate, and Tom whisked the duo off to the “Celebretarium,” where Romeo erased all of the goodwill he may have conjured up from the dance by lamely plugging a charity website he works with.  I say that only because he failed to provide a single shred of evidence about what the charity actually does.

SCORE: 20/30

Hines Ward and Kym Johnson – Hines was looking good during the first of the time I watched this samba.

Hines was looking straight up hot the second time I watched.

The third time I watched, I had to kick the cat off my lap.

The fourth time, I began to wonder whether or not I’d just keep watching it over and over, all night long, and fuck this whole blogging hobby of mine.

I’ve paid attention to Hines in the last two episodes and hadn’t thought much either way.

WHERE DID THIS HINES COME FROM?

Every step seemed like he’d been doing it since he was born.  Check out the showcasing of the arms with the nicely cut vest.

And how about the way he so carelessly tossed, yanked and swung Kym Johnson around like a used beach towel?  That’s the kind of man I like!

SCORE: 25/30 and the highest score of the night

Petra Nemcova and Dmitry Chaplin – Awww, sweet little Petra and that adorable accent of hers… makes her sound so precious.

“If there would be one or two eights… we would be very happy.”

Well, who wouldn’t?   Every time little Petra opens her mouth, I can’t help but think of that sweet, plump foreign housekeeper from War of the Roses.

Petra and Dimitry performed a waltz that was fluid for the most part, but it looked to me as if Petra wobbled a couple times.  Nevertheless, Len applauded the grace and the fluidity. “At this moment, YOU’RE the ONE!” (Geez, how many times a season is Len required to say that?)  Bruno called Petra a vision from heaven and was astounded by her improvement. Carrie Ann: “You’ve gone from super model to super inspirational.”

And I liked that when tsunami survivor Petra had the opportunity to pimp herself or a website during her post-interview, and instead took the moment to remind people in their own abilities to persevere.  Very desrving of the score.

SCORE: 25/30 “If there would be one or two eights… we would be very happy.”  You just want to pet her little cute head and put her in your pocket!

Sugar Ray Leonard and Anna Trebunskaya – My friend, Twickles reads my Dancing recaps here and routinely points out that as I move from one couple to the next, my reviews get shorter and shorter.  And it’s true.  It takes a long time for me to write these. Last night I was up to 1:30 in the morning recapping Celebrity Apprentice.  So, as the hours creep on, I start short-cutting things a bit.

So, from now on, I will not address the teams in the order of their performance on that night’s show, and the last team I tackle will be the team for which I have the least amount to say.

This week Sugar Ray and Anna performed an ill-conceived boxing-themed dance, complete with ring announcer and punching bag for Sugar Ray to jab at the end.

It was accompanied by Bobby Brown’s “My Prerogative.”

There was much red.

SCORE: 20/30

HIGH SCORE OF THE NIGHT: Hines Ward and Kym Johnson tied with Petra Nemcova and Dmitry Chaplin

LOW SCORE OF THE NIGHT: Wendy and Tony

WHO’S GOING HOME: I’m a fan of Tony, but Wendy’s the only one I actively DO NOT want to see even one more time, so hopefully she’ll be packing it in tomorrow.

Now it’s closing in on one in the morning.  I have a day job you know.  I’ve got to hit the sack.

Well, I’ll watch Hines one more time, and then I’ll hit the sack.

VintageEnoteca.com

Pepperoni, basil and bell pepper with last night’s 30 Rock, Wednesday night’s Modern Family, Tuesday night’s The Good Wife and tonight’s Real Time all lined up on the DVR

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again… want some job security?  Flood your workplace with homemade cookies.

Most of my co-workers are familiar with my website and the Tv Food and Drink photo album on my Facebook profile. They can generally be assured that if they see pics of a new dessert pop up at either spot, it’s most likely going to end up in the production control room the next day where everyone can come by and partake… except for Josh, that is.

Poor Josh, our show’s lighting technician is lactose intolerant.  He never gets to enjoy the desserts I bring in to work.  He can’t even eat my guacamole because I put sour cream in it.  So, as others around him feasted on these banana walnut chocolate chunk cookies, poor little Josh had to make do with the turkey sandwich and ziploc bag of Wheat Thins he brought from home.

I’ve asked Josh about his actual degree of intolerence, and in describing the physical reaction he would experience even eating just half of one of these cookies, the word “explosive” was employed.  I’ll leave it at that.

Because I am a fan of Josh, his contribution to our show, and even the dumb jokes that he thinks never get tired (“Poker?  I don’t even know her!), this weekend I’m going to take the time to pick up some Earth Balance Vegan Buttery Sticks , a dairy-free butter alternative completely free of hydrogenated fats, trans fatty acids, gluten-free and 100% vegan.  That way, as Season of the Cookie progresses, Josh will not be made to feel left out like the last kid in grade school picked for the dodgeball team (“You take the asthmatic, we’ll take Josh”).

Banana Walnut Chocolate Chunk Cookies from MarthaStewart
Makes about 3 dozen

• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/2 cup whole-wheat flour
• 1 teaspoon coarse salt
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
• 1/2 cup granulated sugar
• 1/2 cup packed light-brown sugar
• 1 large egg
• 1 1/2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
• 1/2 cup mashed ripe banana (about 1 large)
• 1 cup old-fashioned rolled oats
• 8 ounces semisweet chocolate, coarsely chopped into 1/4-inch chunks
• 1/2 cup coarsely chopped walnuts (about 2 ounces), toasted

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Whisk together flours, salt, and baking soda in a small bowl; set aside.

Put butter and sugars into the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment; mix on medium speed until pale and fluffy. Reduce speed to low. Add egg and vanilla; mix until combined. Mix in banana.

Add flour mixture; mix until just combined. Stir in oats, chocolate chunks, and walnuts.

Using a 1 1/2-inch ice cream scoop, drop dough onto baking sheets lined with parchment paper, spacing about 2 inches apart.

Bake cookies, rotating sheets halfway through, until golden brown and just set, 12 to 13 minutes. Let cool on sheets on wire racks 5 minutes. Transfer cookies to wire racks; let cool completely.

Cookies can be stored in airtight containers up to 2 days.

Earth Balance Vegan Buttery Sticks are available nationwide.

Another dairy-free butter alternative: Shedd’s Willow Run Soybean Margarine