After watching the US hockey team beat the Swiss 2-0 to advance to the semifinals and Canada perform the Cleveland Steamer all over Russia tonight, I decided I should see just how good I did at my NFL predictions this past year now that the season's over. I know, they have nothing to do with each other. That's just how this guy works.
AFC West What I said: San Diego Chargers - 11-5 Denver Broncos - 6-10 Kansas City Chiefs - 6-10 Oakland Raiders - 5-11
What Really Happened: San Diego - 13-3 Denver - 8-8 Oakland - 5-11 Kansas City - 4-12
Um, I got the winner right, along with the second place team. Also nailed that Oakland record right on the head. BOO YAH GRANDMA. Not a bad start.
AFC South What I said: Tennessee Titans - 13-3 Indianapolis Colts - 12-4 Houston Texans - 9-7 Jacksonville Jaguars - 5-11
I was on the right track thinking that Miami would take a dive after having such a surprisingly successful season in 2008. Otherwise, not too much good news here. Way to pick a team that made the AFC Championship to finish 6-10, IDIOT.
NFC West What I said: Arizona Cardinals - 9-7 St. Louis Rams - 5-11 Seattle Seahawks - 5-11 San Francisco 49ers - 3-13
What Really Happened: Cardinals - 10-6 San Fran - 8-8 Seattle - 5-11 St. Louis - 1-15
SEAHAWKS. BOOM. But seeing as there was no chance any team other than the Cardinals won this division, I pretty much ate it here.
NFC South What I said: Carolina Panthers - 11-5 New Orleans Saints - 10-6 Atlanta Falcons - 8-8 Tampa Bay Bucs - 1-15
What Really Happened: Saints - 13-3 Atlanta - 9-7 Carolina - 8-8 Bucs - 3-13
At least I knew the Bucs would suck? No wait, that's me that sucks. My bad!
NFC North What I said: Green Bay Packers - 13-3 Chicago Bears - 11-5 Minnesota Vikings - 10-6 Detroit Lions - 2-14
What Really Happened: Vikings - 12-4 Green Bay - 11-5 Chicago - 7-9 Detroit - 2-14
I know the Lions like I know the back of my hand! Oh yeah, and the Bears were gonna be really good this year too...
NFC East What I said: Philadelphia Eagles - 12-4 New York Giants - 11-5 Dallas Cowboys - 9-7 Washington Redskins - 5-11
- Joseph, the thieving shtable boy, is not very smart. You have to know that when dealing in major arms, you never go rogue, or you will end up dying. It's rule #1 in nuclear weapon transactions! SHIT JOSEPH. Now you're dead. At least his cell phone stayed on long enough on the ground for them to identify the terrorists who killed him. Classic 24!
- You get the feeling that Jack and Renee are going to bump uglies when this season is over, leading to Renee birthing some of the most kick ass children ever created. I mean, let's be honest. The world's greatest man mating with a woman who has shown that she doesn't take any prisoners either? The kids only need to get over the emotional issues provided by the Walker genes and they'll be incredible. Plus, Jack has already proven that he is a can't-miss father (Kim Bauer anyone? YES PLEASE).
- Rob Weiss, he of the bunched panties, apparently thought it would take the Justice Department lawyer with the biggest DSLs to crack Renee and make her take the blame for this. It's a good thing Jack showed up and showed that biotch who's boss. It's a shame, however, that Jack had to be electrocuted for the 54th time this season promptly afterwards.
- Farhad Hassan: now THERE'S a spineless little puss. One second he's running the show, the next moment some terrorist with a finely tailored goatee tells him he wants to blow up NYC, more or less relegating Farhad to second fiddle. Then Farhad goes running away, crying to CTU that he wants to come in and tell them everything, I'm assuming in exchange for immunity. Apparently the US government gives away immunity like lollipops in a doctor's office.
- Brian Hastings is worthless. First Rob Weiss tells him how it is, then his data analyst is running away to JC strip clubs in the middle of a nuclear crisis, then he puts some greenhorn named Owen in charge of the mission to get Farhad out of trouble... you think all of this would happen with Bill Buchanon in charge? No sir. Great Americans don't let this shit happen. Brian Hastings, you're not a great American. RIP Bill. You're missed now more than ever.
- So we begin last week's episode with this Dana Walsh train wreck, and now we end this week's episode with it? For shame, 24 writers. It's a good thing our boy Freddie is such a badass and is quite the marksman with a shotgun - like Denzel Washington in Training Day, he is surgical with that bitch. I only wish that Kevin's bearded psycho partner had shot Dana before Freddie took him down with a perfectly placed shotgun round to the heart. There's only one thing left to do Freddie: GET RID OF DANA WALSH. PLEASE. DO IT FOR ALL OF US.
Before I begin, I'd like to address a comment I received two weeks ago from a reader by the name of "Rich Calabrese," or rcal as he's more commonly known. His comment was made on the post by Louey Colicchio, reviewing Blue Water Grill:
With all do respect do the chef of the century, sir louey collichio and the terrific writing and photography that has ensued, i cant believe this new jersey blog has turned into the hub to review restaurants for metros and the like. what happened to this respected man-blog? it used to be a blog about sports, greasy food, jack bauer, and epic weekend adventures.
This blog is nerfy. It has literally formed from a battle axe into a nerf ball. At this rate, next week i'm sure i'll read about scenes from the Tyra Banks show, and how well suited Ryan Seacrest's blazer looked on American Idol.
I feel the mission statement for this blog used to be written on a napkin with ketchup stains on it. Today, it's written in caligraphy on a white doily kept down by a bowl filled with lavender potpourri.
Ouch. First of all Richard, NEVER mention Ryan Seacrest on this blog. American Idol is the worst show on television, and from here on out shall never be spoken of in this forum. How dare you. Second, I must say the comment hit home a little bit. Perhaps I had strayed a little too far from the mission statement of this blog, but it's tough to keep focus when so many writing-worthy events pop up that I feel need to be covered, all while trying to juggle a stressful professional life, my mission not to be fat anymore, the need to watch as much sports as possible, and to continue to ride Pat White's hot hand in my Madden 10 franchise. But, as you can see, I've reverted back to my roots this past week, and will make a conscious effort to continue to do so. The restaurant reviews from The Chef of the Century and Louey Colicchio will continue as well, because I feel there is a need for this literature. But Richard, I hope you know and appreciate that your comment has forced me to look inward, and that things, as a result, will be going back to the way they should be from here on out. Thank you.
I learned a valuable lesson this past weekend: Do not use a Brillo pad when cleaning a stove, specifically the back section that contains the knobs for the burners and oven. My apartment-mates and I have put forth efforts best described as "lackluster" when it comes to cleaning the stove, so I decided to give her a good once over on Saturday. First I used a Brillo pad to scrub the shit out of it, then used Fantastik to provide the icing on the clean cake. When I was finished, I was mighty proud of myself - that oven was SHINING. Then I realized that a lot of that shining was coming from the silver coloring on the back panel that resulted in me taking a lot of the black finish off with the Brillo pad. Oops! Let this be a warning to you, so that you may clean your ovens in the correct manner and not repeat the mistakes of yours truly.
I was strangely riveted to Olympic cross country skiing on Saturday. Not sure why. It's not fast. There aren't any epic crashes. The Americans suck at it. It's just like watching a running marathon (boring) on skis. But for some reason I was fascinated by the Tour de France-like strategy involved, where teammates from the same country were shielding the pack from the leader, and other stuff like that. Somehow it was good television. And speaking of Olympic sports Americans suck at, holy shit is the US Men's Curling team bad. In their match against Great Britain yesterday, they had a chance to score 3 points at the conclusion of one of the ends (1 round in a 10 round match). So what did they do? Well, the guy who slides the rock screwed it up so bad that he knocked all the American rocks out, resulting in Britain scoring 1 point - a 4 point swing. And they ended up losing by 2. PATHETIC.
You all know about my affinity for McSorley's, the greatest bar in all the world, which also happens to be the 3rd oldest bar in America. The place truly embraces its history: no stools at the bar, sawdust all over the place, a wood-burning stove in the center, and only 2 drinks - light and dark beer. You order as many as you can, and the homeless looking Irish guy throws down 16 at a time on your table. Then you pound away and order another round. Things get silly, you sing, you chant, you chug... just a little slice of heaven, located but one short train ride away. If you haven't made the pilgrimage yet, I highly suggest you do so.
Sunday was a glorious day at the Olympics, but before the sporting glory occurred, glory of a different sort took place: a trip to White Mana, the diner whose excellence was documented in this here blog just this past Friday. What a phenomenal place it is. Louey Colicchio and I shared a sack of 20 of their delicious burgers along with a couple of orders of chicken fries. There are few places that satisfy a craving for greatness quite like White Mana. It's a little bit of Americana to fill your belly with.
The resplendence of the day that occurred in Olympic competition was the United States' huge 5-3 victory over Canada in Olympic hockey, our first victory over Canada in the Olympics since 1960. You had to have seen this game, it was so awesome to watch. The speed was incredible, players were slamming into each other every 5 seconds - it was really intense. The complete lack of commercial breaks during the periods added to the breakneck pace of the game as well. It was certainly one of the most entertaining hockey games I have ever seen. It also felt pretty awesome watching our boys play their hearts out for the name on the front of the sweater and shut up the packed house of Canadian fans. Chris Drury represented the Rangers nicely with a goal, Brian Rafalski continued his superb tournament, Ryan Miller was again incredible in net, and Ryan Kesler's empty-net goal to ice the game at the end was one of the more incredible efforts you will ever see. Now the US has automatically qualified for the quarterfinals and gets an extra day of rest, while the Canadians have to play Germany to actually make the next round. U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!
Amidst the chaos that is Route 1&9 in Jersey City, there lies an oasis of delicious and affordable fare at its intersection with Manhattan Ave.: The White Mana Diner. White Mana has been around since the 1939 World's Fair, where it was declared to have to world's best cheeseburger. I think we all can agree that it's no surprise that the finest burger this planet has ever seen comes from the great state of New Jersey.
The tradition of phenomenally succulent burgers has continued through the years to the present day, even managing to overcome a moment in time when this mecca of greatness was almost taken from us. In 1996, owner Mario Costa, Jr. decided to sell the lot that White Mana is on for $500,000 (can you really put a price on the lifeblood of the community?), but after making the deal with a couple of guys who planned on turning it into a Dunkin Donuts, he realized the error of his ways. After fighting tooth and nail in court to undo the deal he made, the guys who bought it from him eventually sold it back to him. A New Jersey landmark (it was declared a landmark by the Jersey City Historic Preservation Committee in 1997) was saved, and to this day it prospers in serving its customers only the highest quality, hand-crafted cheeseburgers.
When you enter this castle of superiority, you are greeted by a friendly, often toothless, smile (people lose their teeth by being nice... it's science). Unless you're there for the breathtaking breakfast sandwiches, the eggs of which are cracked open on the forehead of the cook that has been hardened by years of experience, it's not a matter of if you're getting cheeseburgers, but rather how many. Picture your standard-issue White Castle slider - the White Mana burger is a tad bigger, yet better in every way. After placing your order, a spectacle with the all the majesty of a David Copperfield performance begins.
Upon learning that you and your 2 friends want 40 cheeseburgers, the cook, nay - Grill Virtuoso, divvies up the meat on the grill while lining up the buns on the edge. The meat is then carefully, yet quickly, grilled, during which a plethora of onions are infused into the patty - an overlooked, yet crucial step in the process. After the grilling is complete, cheese produced from the milk of only the world's finest cows is carefully placed on each burger. Cheese melted, it is finally time to finish the construction of his masterpiece. One-by-one the burgers are placed on their buns and wrapped into their individual papers, which, as you would expect, come from the most majestic Redwood trees the world over. After thanking the chef for his labor-of-love, you proceed to your car (assuming you took the order to-go; you can eat-in as well), which only makes you more excited for the feast that lie ahead as the aroma of these culinary jewels fills your car and intoxicates you.
When you finally arrive home after sitting in that wonderful hotbox of White Mana scent, you feverishly unwrap the burgers and chow down, each delectable bite exploding with flavor in your mouth (and yes, I mean that in the most sexual way possible). The burger, the cheese, the onions, the incredible amount of grease running down your arms - they all combine to form one of this world's most extraordinary eating experiences. Gallen de Robuchon stopped by and sampled one of these treasures... and was rendered speechless by how amazing they were, which is incredible, because the Chef of the Century is NEVER speechless. And like I said before, it's not a coincidence that burgers of this magnitude come from the greatest state in the union, New Jersey. The best burger, from the best state. Ladies and gentlemen, make the pilgrimage.
The mere mention of the phrase "Pitchers and Catchers" is enough to get me excited, but when that day finally arrives, you know that baseball, the National Pastime, is officially back. Well, that day is today. After a long off-season where the Knicks have become about as much a part of my life as basket weaving, the Giants often proved gutless and without pride, and the Rangers are looking at either missing the playoffs or exiting them in the first round again, it's a comforting feeling to know that baseball season has arrived. Pitchers and catchers today, position players to follow shortly - Spring Training is here.
Spring Training, aside from being a return to glory for those of us who live the game of baseball, is also a time of eternal optimism for the players, management, and fans of every team. Everyone is 0-0. Everyone is in first place. Anything can happen over the course of 162 games. But it's over the course of those 162 games that we'll find the answers to many questions, such as:
- Can the changes that the World Champion Yankees made help get them to number 28?
- Should Jair Jurrjens' sudden shoulder problems become an issue, will the Braves have enough pitching since they traded Javy Vazquez this off-season?
- Will David Ortiz continue his downward spiral now that he's off the juice?
- Can the immortal and legendary slugger that is Pat Burrell lead the Rays back to the World Series?
- Will the Twins make the playoffs and treat their home fans to playoff baseball in -17 degree weather since their new stadium is sans roof? (IDIOTS.)
- Can Zack Greinke win 58 games this year so the Royals have a chance?
- Is any team from either the AL or NL West good enough to contend for the World Series?
- Will Stephen Strasburg make the Nationals out of Spring Training and lead them to the promised land of mediocrity?
- Can the Cubs finally win a World Series, and if so, would the world come to an end?
- Will all of the Cardinals' hitters suddenly put on 40 pounds of muscle and begin hitting home runs at absurd rates?
- Will Roy Halladay continue to prosper now that he pitches in a softball stadium?
- Which 19 Mets will get hurt this year, and when Omar Minaya and Jerry Manuel keep their jobs anyway because ownership is cheap, will Queens burn to the ground?
That is of course just a sampling of what we'll find out over the coming season, among many other things. Baseball is back. Thank God.
Before I get to my thoughts on last night's episode, I wanted to shed light on something incredibly disturbing. I was browsing Fox's 24website for pictures to use here, and when I scrolled to the bottom of the main page, I noticed a "FANS + COMMUNITY" section where people can comment about the show. The first post there was about how awesome the squirt gun gag was that Kevin's daft partner in crime pulled on him in the evidence locker 2 episodes ago. The person who said that should kill themselves. But if that wasn't enough of a reason for suicide for that fella, his/her username for the site is: "DANA_WALSH_FAN." ARE YOU KIDDING ME??!?!? WHO LIKES HER?!??! Now not only should this guy/gal kill him/herself, but it should be as painful as possible. This person is a disgrace to humankind.
Now onto my thoughts on last night's episode:
- Really, 24 writers? You begin this episode with the Dana Walsh storyline? After the awesomeness at the end of last week, you start this week off with a storyline I wish would go away more than anything in this world? Shameful. She came thisclose to confessing to our man Cole, but the realized she only needed to kill Kevin to get rid of the problem, so she didn't tell him. Shit! Cole - See the truth! You've bagged Jessica Biel before, get rid of this nasty hoe and move on to greener pastures! I hope something goes terribly wrong when she goes to shoot Kevin and the gun fires backwards into her face.
- You would think the bad guys now would know this one simple fact - you do not mess with Jack. But if you still think that's a good idea and proceed in doing so, you especially shouldn't torture him. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES should torture occur, because the only way it ends is with you dying. When the Russian dude was electrocuting Jack and Jack pretended to go to sleep, I turned to my woman and said, "Oh boy. This is where the poor guy loses his head." What happened? Jack used his feet to zap him, he got off the ceiling pipe he was hanging on, and he broke the Russian's neck, i.e. he took his head off. Happens every time. Terrorists: you've been warned.
- I hope President Hassan doesn't start smoking weed anytime soon, because that guy is entirely too paranoid as it is. You better calm down there Slumdog.
- Looks like the head Russian arms dealer, aka the head Brewmaster in Beerfest (he was a thieving shtableboy!) shouldn't have murdered his one son, because now his other son who speaks perfect English is out to make him look a fool! So not only did he get caught by Jack because Jack is so badass, but all the money he was going to make is going to go to his son, AND because the nuclear rods weren't there because the son took them, his immunity agreement is out the window. Poor bastard. Such is life when in 24.
Welcome everyone to your weekly does of pointless bullshit - the Monday Morning Brain Fart! I'm coming to you live from my office on this President's Day, because I am literally one of only 6 people who are working in this country today. Suicide.
The Rangers had their first really good weekend in about as long as I can remember, beginning when they beat the hated Penguins in overtime on Friday 3-2, and ending with a resounding 5-2 win over the Tampa Bay Lightning, whom they are fighting with for the last playoff spot. It was awesome being able to beat the Penguins in Pittsburgh, the site of many a choke-jobs for the Rangers in the past, and it was equally fun to beat that piece of shit Sidney Crosby. Everyone worships the very ground he walks on, and yes he is very good, but they always seem to gloss over the fact that he is a whiny little bitch who complains about every time someone breathes on him. Brandon Dubinsky couldn't have said it better:
As you can see at the 49 second mark of that video, poor little baby Sidney lost his faceoff and got angry, so he had to wack Dubie, who probably would have beat the shit out of him if Crosby hadn't skated away like a little bitch and the ref didn't jump in and hold Dubie back because the NHL tells them to keep people off of Crosby. "He's such a little baby sometimes." Well said Brandon. Well said.
I mostly slept through the opening ceremonies of the Winter Olympics on Friday night, which wasn't an occurrence that took anyone by surprise, seeing as I always nap during these things, but I woke up in time to see the big malfunction at the end where the 4th spire of the torch refused to go up with the other 3. It was pretty funny watching Wayne Gretzky, Steve Nash, et al sit there with forced smiles, wondering what the hell was going on. It figures that would happen in good ol' Canada. Think that shit would go down here in the US of A?! NO SIR. THIS IS AMERICA. OUR TORCHES RAISE WHEN WE DAMN WELL WANT THEM TOO. As far as the actual Olympics go, I think my favorite sport of these games (besides hockey) is short-track speed skating. That is really fun to watch. There's a little bit of roller derby in there, and the ridiculously small openings these guys have to squeeze through to pass someone while going as fast as they are is really incredible. Apolo Ohno - you've got the respect of this blog, my friend.
I spent an hour on Saturday morning in the best possible fashion - watching the replay on the NFL Network of Super Bowl XLII when the Giants beat the Patriots. To this day it still raises the hair on the back of my neck and brings me chills, though it is obviously far less stressful because we all know what happens. But being able to relive the greatest day of my life over and over and over again (like I do everyday while on the can since I have the game on my iPhone) is a real treat. The Giants could win 10 more Super Bowls in my lifetime, and they'll never be as special as that one was. Not that I wouldn't mind them winning more. So please Giants, stop being shitty and win me another title!
Kay Jewelers needs to be stopped. Their commercials that feature shitty actors performing insanely cheesy signs of love for their women are sickening. First of all, these are not real men. Real men don't draw a heart on a window while standing outside in the freezing cold, then unfurl a heart-shaped necklace while their woman watches with excitement from inside where it's warm. A Real man, if his woman was deserving of a necklace of course, would only give it to her once she had gotten him that beer he requested while he was watching the game and she was in the kitchen making him dinner. The latest Kay disaster has some douche reading his woman those V-Day candy hearts with the little messages on them. "I Love You." "You're the One." You know, shit like that. Then he says, "You're the most beautiful woman in the world. You're funny. You have a great personality. I love you," or something to that effect. When she says that it doesn't say that, he goes, "But this does," and he gives her a necklace. YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME. If any guy ever does that, he should do himself a favor and jump off the nearest cliff. If there are no cliffs nearby, he should go play in traffic. Those men are an insult.
I finally saw The Hurt Locker yesterday after hearing about how mind-blowing it was for months on end, and I must say, it wasn't that incredible. Very good. Not great, at least not the great cinematic achievement that everyone told me it was. I was under the impression that the scenes where the guy is trying to disarm the IEDs were so tense that I would begin to start squirting diarrhea uncontrollably. Not so, however, and I think it was because the main character who was disarming the bombs was incredibly cocky. If it was some nervous beginner trying to do the job and save all these people, then maybe it would have been a bit more riveting. But you never expected the character to fail, and that took away some of the suspense for me. Maybe the fact that I was watching it in a living room as opposed to a theater affected the suspense, or maybe what happened was what I like to call the "Napoleon Dynamite Syndrome." Napoleon Dynamite Syndrome is brought on by the grossly overhyped excitement of a movie. All your friends have seen it and they think it's the greatest movie in the world. Then you see it. Not so great. I didn't see Napoleon for months and months after it came out, but everyone kept telling me how incredibly funny it was and how it was the greatest comedy ever, blah blah blah. They quoted it non-stop, and would laugh like hyenas whenever they finished the quote. Then I finally saw it... and it sucked. I hated that movie. Not funny. Not quotable. Just pure shit. Would Napoleon have been good if I had just seen it without the hype? We'll never know. Now, The Hurt Locker was certainly not shit, but perhaps a little bit of the Syndrome crept in there and made it not as good for me as it was for the entire rest of the world.
Last night I was going to write something mind-blowing for ya'll to read on this sunny Friday in New Jersey, but instead I was tempted with a mind-blowing experience of a different sort - a Dan Mills concert. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this musical genius, Dan is a fellow Ithaca grad who is to music what Picasso is to painting, Michael Jordan is to basketball, and Joel Robuchon is to cooking.
Dan Mills is like sex for your ears.
Take a minute or 349 and check out his website, where you can download his latest album for free. Trust me when I say this, it's the best $0 you will ever spend. Then browse around his iTunes page, myspace page, etc. (which are linked-to on the site) and consume all the Dan Mills you possibly can.
As a teaser, I will leave you with this little video from his performance last night at The Local 269 in NYC. This song happens to be a favorite of ours, and Dan claims this is the last time he will ever play it live. Those of us in attendance will remember it forever and rank it amongst the greatest days in our lives along with the birth of our children and the Giants winning the Super Bowl.
First, my thoughts on last night's pants-wetting episode:
- As my friends and I have been stating throughout this season, Dana Walsh is not nearly hot enough for this ridiculous story line to even be worth our time. She's not really named Dana, has a past riddled with illegal activity, spent some time in the booty-house, has a stalker ex-boyfriend who wants to take advantage of her, has a new man who loves her for who she really isn't, yadda yadda yadda, blah blah blah. Cole should just dump her ass next episode when she tells him the dilly. Maybe if she were at least a... 6? It would be worth his time? But she's like a 3. Move on, Cole. Move on.
- Renee Walker continued her epic badassery by first putting out for the sake of national security in the last episode, then in this episode, when Vladimir tried to rape her, stabbing him right in the eyeball, taking him down, and then hacking him up like she was a serial killer who didn't want the body to be identified. Yes Renee! Then she committed an unspeakable crime...
- ... by stabbing our hero, Jack Bauer, right in the gut, while she was in a murderous psycho-daze. No Renee! But it was at this very moment where Jack showed us why this is his planet and we're all just paying rent. Vladimir's henchman rushed into the room, at which time Jack pulled the knife out of his own stomach and threw it straight into the Russian's neck from across the room, killing him instantly. BAD. ASS. Then he sucked up the pain, ran outside the room, and shot another Russian dead THROUGH A WALL WITHOUT REALLY BEING ABLE TO SEE HIM. I worship the very ground he bleeds on.
- The new CTU is minor-league. To use an SAT analogy, Brian Hastings' CTU is to the Mets as Bill Buchanon's CTU is to the Yankees (RIP Bill). Jack had a brilliant plan to be taken by the Russians so CTU could track him and be taken right to the nuclear rods. But they are idiots and didn't follow him, so now Jack is screwed. You think Bill would have let this happen??? No sir. Again, may you rest in peace Bill. You are truly an American hero.
Now I will give you my thoughts on all the characters to this point in the season, using the number key you see in the photo above. The photo was too small for me to get a lot of stuff on it, so this will have to do.
1) Arlo Glass - Creepy tech nerd who apparently has a thing for busted chicks (Dana Walsh). Wouldn't be surprised if he dabbled in kiddy porn.
2) Dana Walsh - Like I said before, not hot enough to sustain her miserable side story. Jack should take time off from breaking Russian hopes and dreams and kill her for us.
3) Brian Hastings - The new CTU chief who can't get shit done and walks around like a hunchback. Should be ringing a church bell rather than ruining the very institution that Bill Buchanon made so great.
4) Chloe O'Brian - Still the only person at CTU who knows how to get shit done, and get it done right. Her IT expertise makes America a better place, and her sarcastic humor could warm the heart of even the coldest terrorist.
5) Cole Ortiz - I didn't expect much out of him, but he has been a pleasant surprise and has proven to be quite the useful tool for Jack. Drives over detonating bombs and is an expert with the sniper rifle. I'm a big fan. Also showed HUGE cojones when he sacrificed his life so they could find the terrorist during the premier episode. Respect.
6) Renee Walker - Hotter than ever as she showed promise as the female version of Jack by sawing off the first Russian's thumb then stabbing the second Russian's eye with a knife. Took a big step backward by flipping out emotionally (like we kind of new she would all along) and stabbing Jack. Needs to redeem herself now.
7) God (Jack Bauer) - The man we all aspire to be in life. If it's possible, Jack can do it. If it's impossible, Jack can do that too.
8) Omar Hassan - President of some terrorist-ridden country who is apparently the world's only hope for peace. Subject of an assassination plot organized by his brother, and now is absurdly paranoid. Apparently loves white chicks with 110 pounds of botox in their faces over hot, exotic Middle-eastern women. Idiot.
9) Allison Taylor - President of the United States. Not really getting in the way of Jack like she did last season, and that is a good thing. Clearly showed she didn't know what it takes to get the job done, so she's leaving the national security issues to CTU. Actually, she still doesn't know how to get the job done because she put that asshat Brian Hastings in charge. Women...
10) Rob Weiss - President Taylor's Chief of Staff (or whatever cabinet position he is). Isn't afraid to speak his mind. Clearly has a sense of the moment. Would love to see him become the President, that is, unless he's uncovered as a co-conspirator with the Russians, which wouldn't surprise me, knowing the writers of 24.
Good morning to everyone, especially those who are at work today even though they are either incredibly hungover or on the verge of puking because they ate too much at their Super Bowl party last night (me). Our country is a better place because you're playing hurt; your efforts do not go unnoticed. Except maybe by your bosses. Anywho, on the the Farting.
I was at the Rangers - Capitals game last week - only 6 rows off the ice thanks to a good friend of mine - and while it was a pretty tough loss to take, I must say that it is almost impossible to put into words how good Alexander Ovechkin is, in person and up close. He's unreal. The power, the speed, the quickness... it's just unbelievable to see him live. Obviously I booed the crap out of him every time he touched the puck and told him repeatedly how much he sucks, among other things, but it's like seeing Michael Jordan in person during his prime (not that I ever did, but I imagine this is what it would be like). One man, the single greatest player in the world at his sport, playing at the top of his game - and I got to see it. It's something I can tell my grandkids about one day. At one point Rangers defenseman Dan Girardi, who isn't exactly weak, took a run at Ovechkin by the boards in front of the Capitals bench, which I was right behind. Ovechkin didn't even see him coming, but Girardi merely bounced right off of him and hit the ice. Ovechkin then just stood over him and smiled, as if to say, "Please. That's all you got?" He's incredible. And he knows it. So do the rest of us.
The Rangers, however, rebounded from that crappy loss to the Caps with a resounding win over the hated Devils on Saturday, 3-1. It was a close-knit battle until the Rangers exploded for 3 goals in the second period, with miraculously only one of them coming from Marian Gaborik. The barrage on Devils goalie Martin Brodeur was fun to watch, and made even more thrilling by the Garden crowd serenading that piece of crap with chants of "MAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRTYYYYYYY... MAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTYYYYYYYYYYYY." There are few things cooler than hearing 18,200 people getting on that prick Brodeur completely in unison. Henrik is the King in this battle.
For Secret Non-Secular Joy Giver Version 2.0 this past Christmas (Secret Santa to you laypeople), I received, among other things, a plastic object that at first looked to be a dildo. Seeing as I'm not into that sort of thing, I examined it further, hoping that it was something else. Turns out it was. It was a Banana Bunker, which is basically a plastic case you put a banana in so that when you take it to work or whatever it doesn't get bruised by banging around in your bag. So I finally purchased bananas last week (apparently I was on a potassium strike or something?) and took one to work in the Bunker. And by golly, it worked like a charm. No bruises. Fresh Banana. Great product. So do yourself a favor and pick up a Banana dildo when you get a chance! Here is a photo of it in action:
Friday I stayed in and watched Groundhog Day on TV... with commercials. But even with commercials, that movie never gets old. It's Bill Murray at his best, back in the glory days when he was actually funny, instead of now where he takes himself too seriously and only acts in artsy, pretentious indie flicks. Also, I think they could have done better than Andie MacDowell for his love interest, but that's just me. Despite Andie, however, it's a classic flick. Friday I stayed in and watched Groundhog Day on TV. With commercials. But even with commercials, that movie never gets old. It's Bill Murray at his best, back in the glory days when he was actually funny, instead of now where he takes himself too seriously and only acts in artsy, pretentious indie flicks. Also, I think they could have done better than Andie MacDowell for his love interest, but that's just me. Despite Andie, however, it's a classic flick. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA SEE WHAT I DID THERE?!?!??!?!?!?! GROUNDHOG DAY!!!!!!!! IT REPEATS!!!!!!!
Yesterday was of course the Super Bowl, but beforehand was a much more important event (as far as my woman is concerned): Puppy Bowl VI on Animal Planet. Basically a bunch of puppies play with each other, and MAYBE one of them picks up a toy and crosses the goal line with it, scoring a touchdown. They have hamsters operating the blimp, bunny rabbit cheerleaders, and a water bowl-cam for an up close and personal look at dogs drinking. It's all very thrilling. But during it was a commercial for Dentastix, which is some chew-thing that keeps dogs teeth healthy. The commercial is absolutely hilarious. Please observe:
Maybe this is just another RoadKill: Caught on Tape thing for me, but I think the puppies with the dentures is soooooo freaking funny. If I ever get a dog I'm gonna make him/her wear dentures so I can laugh all the time.
As for the Super Bowl itself, here are my thoughts: Carrie Underwood, how 'bout you show some leg girl? No man in the desired Super Bowl demographic wants to see you in a pant suit, sweetie... I thought Dwight Freeney looked pretty good for a guy with torn ankle ligaments as he registered the only sack of the evening. Granted, I'm sure my ankle would feel pretty swell too if I was injected with every numbing agent legally available to an athlete. It was obvious that whatever he was given had worn off by the second half... The onside kick to begin the second half by the Saints was one of the greatest, ballsiest calls I have ever seen. I absolutely loved it. It's great to see a coach who isn't affected by the moment; a coach who doesn't change how he plays the game based on how big the occasion is. Sean Payton likes to take risks, and obviously the Saints are successful because of it. Why change who you are when it matters most for fear of messing up? Not many coaches would have done that. Kudos to a man who once had his play-calling duties taken away from him by Jim Fassel when he was the Giants offensive coordinator in 2000. I'm going to go wash my eyes out with gasoline now... The other aspect of the onside kick that was incredible was that Hank Baskett was the one who screwed the pooch for the Colts and let the ball hit him in the face rather than just catch it with his hands. It figures a former Eagle would be the one to ruin things in a Super Bowl! He must still have that Philly stink on him... The Colts could not stop Drew Brees as the game wore on, but the opposite was true with Peyton Manning. A little bit of the old Peyton came out last night, not the new Peyton that owns the end of important games. It was odd to see that. The Peyton Manning who owned the Jets two weeks ago doesn't throw that pick-six to Tracy Porter to ice the game... Not too many memorable commercials, though I loved the "Punxatawny Polamalu" spot where the midget Troy Polamalu gets pulled out of a log and sees his shadow. I thought the Tim Tebow commercial was much ado about nothing as well, just an innocent story which then leads you to their website. You don't have to go to the website if you don't want to. And to all the woman's rights groups who are complaining about the commercial having an "undercurrent of violence against women" because Tim tackled his mother - get a life and stop taking yourself so seriously.
And finally, the reason why they call me The Prognosticator: Last year I began the tradition of bringing themed beer to Super Bowl parties, as in I bring beer that is from the town of one of the two teams in the big game. The Steelers played the Cardinals in last year's game of course, so I brought Iron City, a deliciously awful beer from Pittsburgh that I thought appropriate for the occasion. As you know, the Steelers won. This lead me to decide that I could determine the winning team in the Super Bowl by what beer I bought. Talk about power... about influence. I did not take this responsibility lightly. So this year I put a lot of careful thought into my beer purchase, knowing that the destiny of two teams rested on my decision. I ultimately decided on Abita beer, which is from New Orleans. Who won the game? Yep. That's right. 100% record still intact. Prognosticator out.
In the never ending quest to discover culinary greatness in New York City, Gallen de Robuchon, most commonly known as The Chef of the Century, has enlisted his disciple and protégé, Louey Colicchio, to traverse and explore the great expanse of New York City restaurants with the goal to bring knowledge to the 9 loyal readers of New Jersey Is Clean, Idiots. Today brings the first installment of what we hope is many to come. Gallen de Robuchon hopes you enjoy the contributions of Louey Colicchio here, and in the future.
Restaurant Review: Blue Water Grill 31 Union Square West New York, NY 10003
Ambience: The setting at Blue Water Grill is diverse. The location is excellent, right in the heart of Union Square, which initially brings a good feel to the evening. Upon entering, you navigate your way down a hallway and enter the first floor bar area, which seems to be a happening scene for people who like to throw down a couple of cocktails prior to a meal. There are also tables downstairs, and it seems to me that it is a more lively and loud atmosphere because of the location of the bar downstairs. If that is your thing, then you will like it. Louey Colicchio, however, sometimes enjoys a more mellow environment, and that is precisely what he received upon walking to the second floor of the dining area. The tables included booth-style seating on one side, with two chairs on the other. The art was mellow and understated, and the lighting was nicely muted, but not too dark. Ambience Grade: B+
Service: Blue Water Grill is part of the conglomerate known as B.R. Guest Restaurants, who own and operate about a dozen restaurants in New York City, including well known spots such as all of the Dos Caminos and Ruby Foo’s Times Square. While I generally would rather support a well run, small, family oriented business (Please check out my new restaurant, Colicchio & Sons, which epitomizes those values), there is something to be said for the resources and expertise that comes with such a brand. This was all a long-winded way of saying the service was flawless. Upon entering, the hostesses were very polite. Our jackets were checked and we were lead to our table. Upon our arrival, our waters were briskly filled (after politely being asked if we would like Pellegrino or bottled water, which we declined), and throughout the meal the water was consistently being replenished - an essential and appreciated element for The Chef of the Century’s disciple. Bread was served promptly, with a dollop of soft butter - a subtle, yet appreciated nuance. Our order was taken quickly, our wine served on time, and the food came at a consistently good pace. Throughout, we were always greeted with a smile. The woman I happened to be with on this evening got fresh pepper on her salad, which was so kindly offered and executed, and the pre-bussing was timed excellently, an under-the-radar sign that a guest is being treated expertly. Our check was presented quickly, and returned even quicker. Overall, very well done. Service Grade: A
Appetizers: On to the food. After all, this is a cooking competition! For first course, I dabbled with the Baked Little Neck Clams Casino, while the woman had the Heirloom Citrus Salad. My clams, served in the shell, were four morsels of happiness. The house cured bacon gave it great flavor and that little bit of texture, and of course, everything is better with bacon. The dollop of cherry pepper aioli gave a slight punch, which really brought the dish together. The Citrus salad stole the appetizer show, however. The simple combination of the bitter arugula and fennel combined with the sweet and sour citrus was balanced perfectly with the aged pecorino cheese, and finished nicely with a white balsamic vinaigrette. What made this a prefect appetizer was that it really woke up and excited the palate for what was coming next. Well done. Appetizer Grade: A-
Main Course: As a man of the sea, I continued to venture into the ocean for my main course, which was a Slow Roasted Gooseberry Cove Cod. My company for the evening remained on land with the Maple Brined Pork Chop. First the Cod. When the dish was presented, it was very appealing. A simple roasted filet of fish rested upon a bed of Braised Short Rib Risotto, which was then outlined by a Pomegranate Reduction. My one complaint with the presentation was that it was all a little too white, with the plate, the rice, and the fish contributing. While the pomegranate reduction really stood out, I think it could have used a little more color, maybe adding the baby spinach on top, instead of hidden beneath the fish and in the risotto. Once I dug in, I was quite pleased. The fish was simply cooked, really letting this flaky treat stand alone. However, what stole the show was the risotto. Creamy, cooked slightly al dente, combined with the pomegranate reduction - it was divine. My only critique is that the risotto at times overpowered the fish.
On to the pork. For a restaurant known for its seafood prowess, this dish was really a success. While not the most creative combination, the execution was flawless. The pork was cooked to the point where the outside was slightly charred, giving the pork that great flavor combined with a nice texture. The Fingerling Sweet Potatoes added another sweet element to the dish, which was tamed by the slight bitterness of the Swiss Chard. The Bacon Bourbon Gastrique added color to the plating and bacon to the dish, and as noted previously, you can’t go wrong with bacon. I have nothing negative to say about this dish. Main Course Grade: B+
Dessert: For dessert, the woman did what women do, and went for the chocolate. The Chocolate Butterscotch Tart with Espresso Toffee Chip Ice Cream looked excellent, and while I didn’t really dig in, my female counterpoint finished the entire plate, which must mean something went right.
I went with the Citrus Cheesecake with a Tangerine Sorbet and Pistachio Financier. Another beautifully plated desert; the height and color provided by the candied slice of orange was well executed and creatively done. I enjoyed that the cake wasn’t as rich and dense as cheesecake normally is, and instead had a nice fluffy quality to it. The tangerine sorbet paired perfectly with the cheesecake, providing a clean, refreshing element which was a great counterbalance to the cake. I approved of the fact that both desserts included an ice cream or sorbet, but by the time the plates got to our table, they were slightly melted. While I do not wish to blame a restaurant on a matter of physics, perhaps putting the scoop of ice cream in a separate, small ramekin, then placing it on the plate, would remedy this problem. Dessert Grade: B+
Overall, an enjoyable experience. The service and ambiance are appreciated and pleasurable, and the food certainly holds it’s own. If you are looking for a meal while wandering around Union Square, you would do well to give Blue Water Grill a shot.
Greetings everyone! I extend my most sincere apologies to you for not writing in a while, but (I'll continue just as soon as I finish Poker Face here... there we go.) as you know I was away on business for a while and was unable to find the time to appease you, my 4 readers. But alas, you can breathe again as I have returned with my weekly installment that is the envy of exactly zero writers in this world.
Seeing as I was working roughly 15 hour days between two cities last week, I was more than content to sit at home Friday night and pop in a good flick. Luckily, I was saved the effort of actually getting off the couch to find a movie and put it in the DVD player, as Training Day was beginning on one of the 500 movie channels we have with DirecTV. Now, there's Denzel Washington, and then there's badass Denzel Washington. There is almost nothing in this world that is more awesome than badass Denzel Washington, and he is at his most badassyness in Training Day. Love that movie. Can't get enough of it. Denzel is the man.
(Now enjoying LoveGame... oh so good.) If you are the tallish, dark-skinned, dark-haired Jersey Shore-looking waitress (not sure if that narrows it down, actually) from the Union Plaza Diner in Union, NJ who happened to serve a table of 4 incredibly good-looking men on Saturday at around 12:30 and also happens to be reading this here blog, I would like you to know that I am not actually a complete idiot. I know that omelettes are made of eggs, and that I don't have to order a "bacon, egg and cheese" omelette. Stop laughing at me. Also, the dashing Jewish boy sitting across from me is single and ready to go. Hit 'em up on Facebook.
I finally was able to watch the Yankees World Series DVD, though it wasn't mine since Sports Illustrated likes to take its sweet time processing your order that you give through some douche who can't speak any English and may or may not have submitted the order correctly. Anyway, it was excellent, as those championship DVDs with your team in them usually are, but this one was different in that it explored the story behind the loser team a little bit as well. It wasn't terrible, but Company That Makes the Championship DVDs, don't waste your time on losers, especially those from Filthadelphia... let's keep our focus on the winners. (Let me just throw on Bad Romance here one sec...)
My weekend in sports: The Rangers had back-to-back games this weekend against the Coyotes and the Avalanche. They continued their pathetic ways against the Coyotes for the first two periods before finally remembering how to play hockey in the third period, though that was too late as they lost for the 5th time in a row. They broke their winning streak, however, against Colorado yesterday. It was very refreshing to see a win, for once. They suck. More on them later. The Kansas St. - Kansas college basketball game on Friday was epic. Since I went to Ithaca, aka the Greatest College In All The Land, I was never made aware of how incredible a big time college basketball game could be in person. This game gave me that feeling, even on TV. One of the best crowds I had ever seen, was the group at K State. Unreal. They deserved the win. Roger Federer - Andy Murray in the Aussie Open final was predictably one-sided, as Federer cruised to his 16th Grand Slam title. Kudos to ESPN's Chris Fowler as well for calling out Murray when he started stretching out a leg "injury" of some sort when it was obvious that Federer was going to destroy him. Pussy Brits! Watch-out for the US in the World Cup! Eli Manning, who as you all know is infinitely cute, is clearly getting better and better as an actor, as evidenced by his star turn in the new Oreo DSRL commercial I saw over the weekend. Him and Peyton beat the 2 Donald's, afterwards screaming "Taste it Trump!" It was a line delivered with the flair of O'Toole, the determination of Brando, the heartiness of Bogart, and the spirit of Pacino. Eli is truly an oscar winner-in-waiting.
My thoughts on the Grammy Awards last night, which I mostly ignored while watching the Rangers: As the title of my column says, Lady Gaga is awesome. I've NEVER been into this poppy shit music before, but for some reason I can't get enough of her, perhaps because she's so weird. She's just fascinating. And I'm totally straight... I think? ... The Black Eyed Peas are garbage. They used to be good, in the pre-Fergie days, but now they suck. Awful live. Worse on a CD. Just plain ol' shit. ... Taylor Swift may be a looker, and she may be talented, but weeeee-dawgy does her voice suffer when live. Watch some of those notes, sister! ... Pink looks like a dirty transvestite ... This absurd Michael Jackson tribute in 3D is making my eyes hurt. Not all of us have the glasses CBS! And just what I need, Smokey Robinson's reconstructed and botoxed face coming at me in 3D. It's like being approached by Swamp Thing in a tuxedo. This segment is just as creepy as Michael himself. I wonder if all the little boys he touched would be giving him a standing ovation too? ... This Lil' Wayne, Eminem, Rapper TBD performance would be fine except all the cursing is making CBS cut the audio for large chunks at a time. I might as well just have hit the mute button on the remote - it'd be the same thing.
Oh yeah, one more thing: Lady Gaga is great. (Enjoying a little Paparazzi at the moment.)
