If I can’t taste the rBGH in my milk, I’m not drinkin’ it. If a food can be scientifically improved, it should be. Jew God did a good thing when He created fruits, vegetables, meats, cheeses, et cetera, but the benevolent people at Monsanto figured out how to take it to another level. They took … Read more →
Don Quixote chased dragons and found windmills; I chased cronuts and found meat waffles. The Cronut phenomenon has little to do with the food itself; it has a lot to do with the line of 300 hipsters deep outside Dominque Ansel’s Bakery in the biting SoHo cold, waiting for their opportunity to Instagram a unique … Read more →
I prepared this feast to commemorate the day Mecha-Jesus rose from the grave and used his laser-vision to free Mothra from the evil clutches of King Ghidorah, thus returning peace to the universe and absolving us of our sins. Amen. What with being a Jew and all, Easter’s always carried a lot of significance in … Read more →
There’s no causal relationship between one-pot meals and me not doing drugs—just more of a happy coincidence, I guess As many of you know, I now sit at a desk between 40 and 600 hours per week. That leaves me very little time to cook, especially if that second number is close to accurate. So, … Read more →
I will indeed eat green eggs and steak; I will eat them after I wake and bake (that joke is in poor taste, marijuana kills) This dish is inspired by what I’m told is a very popular children’s novel. I’ve never read it, but I recently flipped through a heavily illustrated PDF. The illustrations were … Read more →
Life is all about balancing responsibilities… and tacos. Balancing tacos responsibly. That’s the world that I want to live in. By now, you’ve all probably forgotten about me. You’ve run back to your whores, with their round eyes and painted faces and gasoline-scented skin. The smell makes you sick inside but comforts you – inexplicably, … Read more →
I was born in the small fishing village of Vung Tau on the southern coast of Vietnam We were only about 55 miles from Ho Chi Minh City, but it felt worlds apart. I remember traveling there with my mom during “Cá Ông Holiday” when I was 12 years old. Back then, going to the … Read more →
“Like a sprained ankle, boy, I ain’t nothing to play with” – Nelson Mandela. I figured I should start writing down some notes on the recipes I’m practicing for the upcoming cooking competition. On March 15th, I’ll be competing in the preliminary round of the Art Institute of California’s culinary scholarship competition. If I beat … Read more →
To protect his identity, I’ll refer to him by the alias “Randew Rickards.” Rickards is like the Michael Jordan of cooking. Not Michael Jordan, the basketball player, but Michael Jordan, the negligent father, husband, general manager, baseball player, and violently obsessive gambler. He was, undoubtedly, the worst cook I’ve ever known, and I challenge anyone … Read more →
I hate baking for the same reasons I wouldn’t say I like jogging and physical intimacy – it’s sticky and makes me feel inadequate. Since I was a kid, I have avoided my inadequacies, problems, fears, emotional health concerns, and feelings of general masculinity. Fucking awesomely, I put all my emotions into barbells and burritos. … Read more →