Music Monday Meets Cuteness Tuesday on Wednesday

After having dinner at a friend's last week and being utterly astounded by the consistency of his playlist, he informed me we were listening to the work of internet radio Pandora. You tell Pandora your favorite artist and it will find other music you'll ostensibly like based upon their music genome project.

Game, I entered Feist as my first artist (the first who came to mind. I think because his playlist was super-Feisty). After a half hour or so I was going to pull my hair out if I heard one more quirky, twinkly-voiced girl. Pandora had produced a playlist for me that was indeed very consistent but also incredibly tedious, reflecting just a narrow slice of what I like to listen to. Things got much much better when I took a minute to "add variety" so that Pandora had a better sampling of the breadth of music I like.

After about 10 hours of listening (and giving feedback), adding artists as I thought of them, I'm pretty happy with most things that come up. I do wonder about their licensing however. Though I put in David Bowie, Bryan Ferry Roxy Music, who combined must have hundreds of songs, I've heard only one Bowie tune, yet every time I log in I get at least two Pixies tracks from Surfer Rosa. Mystery.

I've heard this on the radio a couple of times but this came up on my playlist and it struck me as a delightfully perfect pop song, Silver Lining by Rilo Kiley:



I also added Laurie Anderson, and so far have just heard O Superman. I guess this one had the most crossover but it's not my favorite. I really like Smoke Rings because it's completely hilarious but could not find a clip of it to save my life. So here are two more serious but equally wonderful clips, apologies for the crappier than usual quality:

White Lilies



Walking and Falling



Okay, it's neither Monday nor Tuesday but here's a picture that's kinda cute and kinda horrifying. Perhaps it can put your bad day in context:

All Hail the Pig

Ever since leaving vegetarianism by the side of the road, I keep coming back to one essential meaty truth: pork is fucking awesome. I grew up believing I didn't like pork because I ate a lot of thin, overcooked, dry pork chops, which no matter how much applesauce you drowned them in, were really not that good. Somehow, I thought of all the prosciutto, sausage, and capicola I inhaled at Nanny's as some other animal. In terms of taste, they may as well have been.

When I moved out to the west coast I was dazzled by the pork offerings across every cuisine: chorizo, carnitas, linguica, Vietnamese barbecued pork ... I was in hog heaven, literally. This is when I parted ways with vegetarianism and embraced my flesh-chomping instincts. But since I learned how to cook at a vegetarian co-op, I really didn't know how to cook meat. I still don't, really, but I've fumbled my way through a few things enough times to have a bit of kitchen wisdom to share.

This weekend I had a number of my favorite pork products on hand and decided to hole up and cook up a pork storm. Here's the menu, with commentary:

Oven roasted red and sweet potatoes. Not much to say about this, but be liberal with the salt and the fat. Using both olive oil and dots of butter makes a huge difference. I came to cooking salt-phobic, as I think most Americans are because we've been fed a line of hooey about salt. Did you know that most salt in America's diet does not come from salt shakers in home kitchens but from processed food? So relax already, make dinner at home and salt your food.

Pork tenderloin crusted with sea salt, pepper and rosemary. Again, the key here is adequate salt and for the love of God, do not overcook it. A pinkish hue is not the death knell of trichinosis, it's completely necessary. If it's all white, it will not taste good. Please trust my many pork mistakes and if you don't, check out this guide that tells you in caps, twice, DO NOT OVERCOOK. You could brown it in a pan beforehand for extra yumminess, and while I support that decision completely, I'm too lazy for that.

I want to take a minute to talk about silver skin. That's the tough, connective tissue on tenderloins that isn't edible, doesn't melt away like fat and makes for unpleasant dining. Initially I didn't understand it and was intimidated by doing stuff to raw meat so would ignore it. Then I read Bill Buford's Heat and understood it really did need to go and I could do it. I remove the bigger clumps of fat with a scissor but the silver skin needs a sharp, pointy knife to separate it from the meat. This little guy sharpened my knives up nicely.

Roasted brussels sprouts with pancetta. I use a variation of this recipe. I had made this once before with amazing results. This time it wasn't as good and I want to share why so you don't make the same mistakes.

Pancetta quality. First time around I bought the pancetta from a butcher, who cut me a large slab, then trimmed into smaller pieces for me. When I got home I then trimmed those into even smaller pieces using a scissor. This time I used packaged, pre-cubed pancetta at Trader Joe's. Certainly faster, more convenient and cheaper but taste was a big FAIL. Don't bother. If you can't find pancetta, you'd be better off swapping it out with good quality bacon.

Amount of fat. Last go around was quite delicious, though a tad greasy, so I decided this time after draining the pancetta, I would take half of the fat out of the pan before continuing with the recipe. I'm wishing I hadn't been so drastic. But maybe with a higher quality pancetta I would be able to use less fat because it would have more flavor.

Pan choice. Last time I used my go-to pan, a heavy stainless Calphalon, and the result was beautifully browned and carmelized. This time I used a non-stick Calphalon, not for any particular reason, and didn't get nearly the same nice browning and carmelization. I'll definitely go back to the other pan. I keep learning that the overwhelming majority of the time, non-stick is not the right choice and since maybe it will kill us anyway, that's probably for the best.

Music Monday

This edition of Music Monday has an unplanned theme: Kinda Whiny Guys. You'll see why in a sec.

I avail myself of the free iTunes cards at Starbucks and on occasion kinda like what I find. One of these was Chris Bathgate, Yes I'm Cold. Not a real video but you get the point:



Here's Serpentine



Don't like that one quite as much and really don't think I could listen to a whole album of this. Next.

I just started getting the New Yorker again. I have a total love-hate relationship with this magazine and as a result need to take time off periodically. We break up because it's incredibly pretentious, the cartoons are often revoltingly sexist, their cadre of fiction writers snoozingly predictable. We get back together because there is often a ton of interesting stories and I can ignore the things that bug me, the way you would ignore a loved one's snorty laugh or tendency to hog your side of the bed.

Last week's issue saw pop critic Sasha Frere-Jones wetting himself over the band Bon Iver. Bon Iver is headed by Justin Vernon, a 27 year old from Eau Claire Wisconsin. Sconnie in the house! I had never heard of them but his fawning review alone made me seek out stuff on interwebs.

Here's Flume:





And here's Skinny Love:



S'okay, I guess. Not feeling like I need to fall down about it, or even that I need to listen to it again. Though I do love men singing falsetto, this feels a bit bloodless. One YouTube commenter made a good point: "There's a lot of mythology around Bon Iver - heartbreak, seclusion - that obscures the fundamental question - is it any good?" He's referring to the much-discussed extended illness and recuperation that Vernon experienced in a remote Wisconsin cabin, shortly after a relationship ending. It's true that every article I read about him references this story, and there is a sort of awe that surrounds him that I don't totally get. But I think I would see them live, just to see if I could experience this:

"I saw them play this song at the Rex theater. The harmonics in the solo fragments of this song will literally blow your mind wide open. It produced resonances in different parts of my body, I can't properly describe the effects."

I've heard about these full-body orgasms but have never experienced one myself. Maybe Bon Iver is like the Hitachi Magic Wand for wannabe Tantrics. That would certainly be worth the price of admission.

Question, reader: is it considered plagiarism to not cite a blog comment? We like to do things right here at Professional Critic, so just in case, these are YouTube commenters; the skeptic was rosecroix and the full-body experience was fablekeys.

TGIF, reader.

Post Inaugural Breakdown

1. Goodbye, Bush. I won't miss you at all. Since you're barely able to string three coherent words together, I don't know that you'll be in much demand on the speaking circuit, so enjoy your retirement. Which shouldn't look too different from the last eight years. One tip: if you do invite friends to the ranch, it's considered a mark of poor hosting to shoot them in the face.

2. Dang Obama, was it really worth ruffling so many queer + lady feathers by asking the homophobic, anti-choice Rick Warren to give your invocation? Because he sucked. Your eleventh-hour, B-list invite Gene Robinson did a much better job, delivering a message more akin to your own:



3. Though Obama's speech lacked the loft and soar we've come to associate with him, I thought he did a great job of laying out the task ahead of us, being very clear that he would be leading the country in a different direction.

As for our common defense, we reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals.

Our founding fathers faced with perils that we can scarcely imagine, drafted a charter to assure the rule of law and the rights of man, a charter expanded by the blood of generations.

Those ideals still light the world, and we will not give them up for expedience's sake.

And so, to all other peoples and governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born: know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and we are ready to lead once more.

Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with the sturdy alliances and enduring convictions.

They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use. Our security emanates from the justness of our cause; the force of our example; the tempering qualities of humility and restraint.

We are the keepers of this legacy, guided by these principles once more, we can meet those new threats that demand even greater effort, even greater cooperation and understanding between nations.

You can get the whole speech here.

4. Michelle looked fabulous in her modern Jackie O day ensemble:



I was a little meh about the ballgown, but she looked lovely, and more importantly was glowing with happiness as she danced with her husband as Beyonce crooned.

5. Could those girls be cuter?



6. NPR, we love your political dice/chop but when you start the fashion commentary, oy. I do appreciate the effort but if you don't know the difference between "mustard" and "butter," which are so NOT EVEN CLOSE, you are really out of your league.

7. This has nothing to do with the inauguration but I was over at Go Fug Yourself looking for some pics and I saw this. Could this be the hotness who set my loins aflame in Quills, as he desperately tried to not have sex with Kate Winslet? This does not compute.

Reflections on a Day Off

I love a three-day weekend as much as the next person. Often these holidays hold little to no meaning for me--sometimes I can't even remember what the day off commemorates. Today feels pretty different, even different from any other Martin Luther King Jr. Day that has come before. We're at an historical moment, about to inaugurate our first black President, which can I say feels fucking awesome? So I want to take a moment to think about just what it is that we're supposed to think about today.

You can read the entire text here but here are some excerpts from "The Meaning of the Martin Luther King, Jr. Holiday" written by Coretta Scott King on The King Center website.

We commemorate Dr. King’s inspiring words, because his voice and his vision filled a great void in our nation, and answered our collective longing to become a country that truly lived by its noblest principles. Yet, Dr. King knew that it wasn’t enough just to talk the talk, that he had to walk the walk for his words to be credible. And so we commemorate on this holiday the man of action, who put his life on the line for freedom and justice every day, the man who braved threats and jail and beatings and who ultimately paid the highest price to make democracy a reality for all Americans.

The Holiday commemorates America’s pre-eminent advocate of nonviolence --- the man who taught by his example that nonviolent action is the most powerful, revolutionary force for social change available to oppressed people in their struggles for liberation.

We call you to commemorate this Holiday by making your personal commitment to serve humanity with the vibrant spirit of unconditional love that was his greatest strength, and which empowered all of the great victories of his leadership. And with our hearts open to this spirit of unconditional love, we can indeed achieve the Beloved Community of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s dream.
May we who follow Martin now pledge to serve humanity, promote his teachings and carry forward his legacy into the 21st Century.

And in his words.

Bits 'n Pieces

Reader, apologies. I've been crapping out on posting and since I know you're on tenterhooks wanting to hear about the minutiae of my exhilarating life, I'll get right to it.

But first. Uh, jet brought down by a flock of geese? Anyone else scared shitless by this and really really glad this didn't happen over the open ocean? Mad props to pilot Captain Chelsey Sullenberger for amazing grace under pressure.

On a darker note, did anyone else know that chucking live birds into a jet engine is a routine part of safety testing? And that testers use the word "ingested" to describe the sought-for annihilation of the birds without loss of engine power? Could there be a more humane way to do this? Friends in aviation, get right on this because Professional Critic does not approve.

Last week Sarah came for a visit. Brunch was thrown with great amounts of mimosas, frittata, buckets of coffee and grossly delish Pillsbury cinnamon buns, my apartment full to busting with more people than it's ever seen. The kidlets forgot to talk about their outfits beforehand, or maybe they actually did, to great effect:



A few days later at the height of the current heat wave, Sarah and I went to the Fitzgerald Marine Reserve, which is a place of magic. That sounds so woo woo California but I don't care. I'm always a fan of places that rope off areas sea lions have claimed to keep the people out. They need to rest, the sea lions. Anyway this place is teh awesome because the rock formations make tons of tidepools if you go when the tide is low. Which you would, because that's the whole point of a place like this.

A sea anemone and other cool stuff in a tidepool. Hey look at that scary crab at the bottom of the picture my hands:



You can't tell because the zoom on my camera sucketh but there were about 40 sea lions snoozing on the rocks and lolling around the shallow pools created by the receding tide.



We stayed until the sun sank low in the sky:



And Sarah looked like a movie star:



It was exciting.


In fact, Gus passed out from all the excitement of having another person to torture at night and he's only just recovering now.

Finally, if you live in the LA area why don't you go see some live music? The record release party for Fol Chen is on February 7th in Echo Park. I went to high school with Mr. S. Bing but I can't be there so go and say hey for me. All the cool kids will be there.

Hard Hitting Journalism

Is not what we have today, reader. First up: Latisse, the first federally approved prescription drug for growing longer, lusher eyelashes. Not a joke. This is so utterly redonk I don't even know what to say about it.

Golden Globes dresses are important to view and discuss, despite the fact that I did not see the show and have no idea who won.

Drew Barrymore, you looked like a nuthatch but you know what? It kinda worked for me.

Polar opposite is Renee Zellweger who looked like a nuthatch and it did not work for me. AT ALL. The weird chopped up dress, the odd undergarment and that hair wasn't sex kitten bedhead like Drew, it just looked insane.

Though I don't capital L love Kyra Sedgwicks' frock she rocks that damn thing. Also, she is awesome on The Closer.

Blegh to the non-color frumpiness of Kristin Scott Thomas.

Though she's always purty no matter what she's wearing, Kate's dress did not do it for me.

With Oprah, let's all bless Kate's real breasts and the real breasts of women everywhere. WOO!

Excellent article about Obama's eleventh hour invitation of the Right Reverend Gene Robinson to deliver the invocation at an inaugural event on Sunday. Well said.

Three Alarms

Reader, I despair. Will Oakland ever make the news for anything good? You may have heard about, or even seen video footage of the awful and so far completely inexplicable fatal shooting of an unarmed subdued passenger by transit police on New Year's Day. Last night saw a splinter group of a peaceful protest turn violent, destroying cars and several business in an already fragile downtown.


The chaos continued tonight. Business owners on the evening news reported that after a terrible Christmas retail season, they could ill afford the property damage sustained over two nights. Meanwhile, the family of the slain man urged people to protest peacefully while the officer suddenly resigned without making a statement about what the frick happened on that train platform. I don't know why they can't drag him into a precint and threaten him the way David Caruso does on CSI Miami all the time.

I share the frustration of the protesters but feel pretty sure that destroying black owned businesses in downtown Oakland and setting taxpayer-funded police cars on fire isn't going to accomplish anything other than pissing off people outraged by this senseless death and sympathetic to the peaceful protesters. It seems like a big group temper tantrum. Looking forward to some answers, soon.

Besides OPD cop cars, the Kings of Leon know what else is on fire: your sex. Sorry I can't embed this video, it's disabled everywhere. Weak. Anyway I had very high hopes for this awesomely titled song, which were not realized watching the redonk video. Wonder how the director conveyed his vision to the lead singer "... so I'm obsessed with your hot hot sex ... and I'm trying to kick it ... which makes me think about a fluffy black chicken ... and writhe on a bed while my buddies hold me down ... and then I eat the chicken ... and reenact the shower scene from Flashdance ... and cough up feathers." WTF? However, I will do my very best to weave "your sex is on fire" into everyday conversation because that is such a great phrase without getting fired. Could be tricky. Specially cause I don't work at an STD clinic.

Our third alarm rings for Richard Simmons, letting his flame roar on CNN:



TGIF, reader.

The Bromance, The Cougar and Heartbreak

The other night I was watching Superbad, which Liz gave me for Not Christmas. We had gone to see this movie after some death or another, and we both laughed so hard. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend.

In the film, best friends Evan (Michael Cera) and Seth (Jonah Hill) are seniors in high school, and are about to go off to different colleges in the fall. They are driven equally by their need to get laid and anxiety about their pending separation. The former they discuss incessantly, the latter almost never, yet both propel the action equally. The goal of their night seems simple: buy sufficient booze using a crappy fake ID (you may have heard of McLovin') to get the objects of their affection drunk enough to have sex with them.

After a long night of sex-free drunken hijinks, the boys crash in Evan's basement. But before going to sleep they exchange heartfelt declarations of love, share how much they're really going to miss each other and have a big bear hug. It's incredibly sweet and touching. The next day they're both embarrassed and act out morning-after awkwardness perfectly.

As I was watching this scene, I thought, oh, it's a bromance. Then I stopped myself and wondered what the catchy phrase for girls' friendship was. Then I realized that there wasn't one because all the emotional and physical expressions associated with bromance are simply implied in the word "friend" for women. Maybe you would say "close friend," or "best friend. A word, albeit a stupid one, needed to be invented to describe close, loving male friendships. But the associations of bromance are not entirely positive. Remember when Lance Armstrong, Matthew McConaughey and Jake Gyllenhall had their public bromance? There was also plenty of hyuk hyuking and gay speculation because why else would men want to spend so much time together?

It was a natural progression to then think about the awful word cougar used to describe a woman who dates a significantly younger man. There's no male equivalent for that because a man wanting to date a significantly younger woman is just normal and natural and why would you need a special word for the way things just are?

Then I became very sad for men and women both for having such narrowly defined options available for such a wide range of possible human expression. I'm extremely grateful that I can have close loving relationships with my female friends where we hug and kiss and discuss pooping and sex and urinary tract infections. But I also want to know that I could have a relationship with a much younger man and not be viewed with suspicion, scorn, or seen as desperate or a joke while a man making the same decision is admired for snagging such a hot young thing. Men can keep their young things but I also want them to be able to have loving friendships with other men without having to endure homophobic sniggering. That includes with their own kids. The day a man feels like he shouldn't kiss his own son is not a day I want to have anything to do with, thank you very much.

I'm going to roll with this: I don't want it to be so acceptable that a father would leave his kids, and conversely don't want to it to be the worst thing in the world if a mother does. Don't want it to be so not newsworthy when a man kills his wife or so sensationalized black widow if a woman kills her husband. I am mightily sick of seeing people fall all over themselves when a father "babysits" his own children for an afternoon and wouldn't mind hearing a little more appreciation for the armies of mothers that spend day in and day out with their kids and don't drive them into a lake.

I get that there are plenty of people out there that don't subscribe to these effed up ideas and do their lives and their relationships differently. But not enough of them. We need much, much more of people calling out this bullshit and actually living a different way. Because what the hell are we doing? I'd call it robbery but it's self inflicted. I don't even know what it's called when you steal from yourself.

First Monday of 2009!

Reader, there's been lots moving and shaking here at Professional Critic but trust me when I tell you it'd make for boring reading. But I take your work procrastination very seriously and would never leave you hanging. Check out current interweb offerings:

1. Hilarious SNL digital short featuring my new boyfriend Paul Rudd. Thanks, Liz!

2. Teh awesomeness of Adele. I've been listening to her album 19 nonstop.



3. Bill Richardson, say it isn't so!

4. Yeah, what Frank Rich said about the last of the Bush days.

5. Laura Linney, no! It's so hard when otherwise wonderful actors have a fashion catastrophe. The top of this dress is really not bad, but the bottom, sweet mother of the bride.

6. He's good enough, he's smart enough and now Al Franken is a Minnesota Senator.

7. Until seeing this I had never heard of a dugong let alone understood how very cute they were. This one is named Pig and he wants to smooch you with tongue.