No Soup For King Tom!

No Soup For You!The other day, I was thinking of how to spend my daily “Hour of Me.” I decided to hit up a new place in downtown Columbus, “The Original Soup Man.”

The “Original Soup Man” is a chain started by the real life Soup Nazi, the guy who inspired the classic Seinfeld episode of the same name. The Columbus location just opened recently.  As I walked up, two signs were clear on the outside window, one listing the eight-or-so soups on hand that day, and another listing the rules: Know what you want, order promptly, step to the left and have your money handy.

After reading the outside listing of soups and the rules, I settled on Jambalaya (if it was good enough for Newman, it was good enough for me).  But when I stepped inside the restaurant, things were different.

First of all, for a place designed to hold 30-40 people, it had about 20 employees milling about.  Secondly, there was a menu on the wall that had a lot more than soup. 

The restaurant offered smoothies, sandwiches, salads and yes, soup.  There was this annoying voice in my head saying “soup’s not a meal” and I took a minute, standing by the back of the store to consider getting something in addition to soup.

Hello NewmanWhen I finally settled on a soup and sandwich combo, I stepped up and an employee with a notepad took my order. I was stymied when she asked what kind of bread I wanted it on, and what kind of fruit I wanted.  I eventually figured out what she was asking (again, a lot more complicated than it needs to be for a place specializing in soup) and stepped to the left to await my lunch.

The chicken sandwich was meh.  Entirely forgettable.  The soup, on the other hand, was spectacular.  While I’ve had better jambalaya (it helps that my mother’s side of the family is from Louisiana), the quality and taste of the soup was among the best I’ve ever had in a restaurant.  I don’t think I expected to get soup that good from a lunchtime restaurant.  Say what you will about the Soup Nazi’s business practices, but the man makes a fine cup of jambalaya.

As I sat there with my empty tray, thinking about how next time, I’ll just go for a bowl (because soup of this quality is a meal), I noticed something was missing.  I didn’t get any fruit.  Was this in retaliation for my slow ordering?  Or was it because I didn’t like the sandwich.  I hope this doesn’t mean that I’m becoming George.

At least they didn’t tell me not to come back for another year.

She May Not Look Like Much, But She's Got It Where It Counts

King Tom's GrillOn Memorial Day of aught-seven, The Civee and I were wasting time walking through Home Depot hen we saw a sale on grills. It was a good deal and we bought one, beginning an obsession which has taken up many a late evening over the last two summers.

I enjoy cooking. I’m not great at it, but as long as The Civee enjoys what the King is cooking (and from what I hear, she does), then I consider my efforts successful. In the cold months of the year, I’ll take my time in the kitchen preparing dinner–often with her help. But from April to September, I enjoy taking my time outside (again, with her help), and since we got the grill, I’ve learned to prepare whole meals (desserts included) on the grill.

However, I’ll be the first to admit that it’s not a great grill. To wit:

  • It’s half-red.
  • The grates are waffle-patterened, and allow many a foodstuff to fall through.
  • The cooking area is small.
  • There’s not enough room between the coal and the grates for on-the-coal cooking.

But somehow, I’m attached to the grill.

All last summer, The Civee had to listen to me whine and moan about how much I wanted a real Weber grill. We even got a gift card to Home Depot for Christmas, which I said should be put toward the purchase of a new grill. After much prodding on my part, The Civee agreed, with the requirement that we but one when they’re on sale. So far, we haven’t seen one on sale and our purchase has remained on the back-burner.

But last week, The Civee had a change of heart, saying that we should just bite the bullet and get a new grill.  However, now, I’m not so sure. 

Maybe I’ve really enjoyed what I’ve been cooking as of late, or maybe I’ve inhaled too much smoke from the grill, but I’m content with what we have for now. We rent our place, and our grill is in a somewhat open area (our neighbors, who have not used their grill since we moved in, put their grill on the shared designated grill space) and I figure our little grill has gotten us this far, so why mess with a good thing?

So until we move, or the grill breaks, or I burn down the neighborhood, I’ll be preparing our summer meals on a little red grill with waffle grates.  Should be a fun rest of the summer.

A Pox On Me

Earlier this week, I had a few bumps on my legs, which I thought were mosquito bites.  They changed slightly over the week to something resembling poison ivy.  Considering the fact that the last time I had poison ivy, I had a rash over 90 percent of my body that was headed for my windpipe, I thought it would be a good idea to seek medical advice.

Turns out I don’t have poison ivy, but instead, chicken pox. 

I’ve already had chicken pox. In fact, I had it during the Carter administration. So that whole “you can’t get chicken pox twice” thing is a lie.

While everyone else will be enoying their three-day weekend, I’ll be spending mine covered in benadryl cream trying not to itch.

Why do I always get these weird skin conditions over holiday weekends?

Come for the Furniture, Stay for the Meatballs

For the past few months, The Civee has been bugging me to go to the new IKEA store that opened up in Cincinnati.

IKEA meatballsShe had gone there a few times on her own, but wanted me to go along in case we wanted to make any furniture purchases. Last weekend, we were in Cincinnati visiting relatives and had some extra time, so we stopped by Ikea.

I have to say the place actually made furniture buying interesting. The prices were decent, and the furniture was actually nice. But what made the place totally worth the trip was the meatballs.  The Civee had told me that while shopping, we could get some metaballs, which I envisioned as getting two Swedish Meatballs with a toothpick off a tray somewhere.  But no, this was much more.  Not some toothpick-stuck meatballs on a greasy napkin, but the promise of a full meal.

There’s a full-scale cafeteria in the middle of the store, with plenty of menu options.  I got the meatballs, with a side of mashed potatoes and jam.  For like five bucks. And it was damn good. There were a bunch of other items on the menu (Gravlax, half-chicken, Prime Rib) that I intend to try on future trips to Ikea.

For the first time in my life, I’m actually looking forward to going furniture shopping.  The Swedish are really on to something there with this food-in-the-middle-of-the-store concept.  Who knows, if IKEA had been around when my parents took the younger King Tom furniture shopping, I might not have been such a bratty kid.

Turbo Boost Probably Not Included

When I was a kid, my dream car was KITT.  Who wouldn’t want a car that can jump over other cars, drive itself and talk back to you?

A few months from now, I can plop down $270 and bring my childhood dream close to reality with a Knight Rider-themed GPS unit, featuring the voice of KITT, William Daniels.

From autoblog.com:

The Knight Rider-themed GPS unit has voice prompts recorded by the one-and-only William Daniels, the original voice of KITT, and asks cordially “Hello Michael, where do you want to go today?” when powered up. The LCD display is also flanked by a series of red LEDs reminiscent of KITT’s nose-mounted lights.

It’s a cool idea, but I won’t be getting one. I’ve never really had a need for a GPS unit.  Although, if it could give an ’04 Civic turbo boost and a molecular bonded shell, I might have to re-think that.

Attack of the Gives-You-The-Runs Tomatoes

The Civee and I went to have lunch at a nearby place we frequent.  One of their specials on Sundays is usually a BLT with Chicken Lemon Rice soup.  But today, it was different. The Chicken Lemon Rice soup was served with a “Bacon and lettuce sandwich.”

Ew.

If you’ve been to a restaurant or grocery store recently, you may have noticed a lack of fresh tomatoes on sale or used in dishes.

Turns out, some salmonella-tainted tomatoes grown in two states have made some people sick and started a nationwide scare resulting in most food merchants ceasing the use of fresh tomatoes all together.  But the FDA lists 46 states, countries, or provinces that are sources of safe tomatoes.  Regardless, most vendors are overreacting and pulling tomatoes from everything for fear of being sued by someone who just happens to get an upset tummy and decides to place the blame on the store or restaurant being irresponsible.

While at lunch a few days ago, I was talking with someone in the produce distribution business. He said the problem wasn’t in the tomatoes, but in the way restaurants handled them. If there’s some e. coli or salmonella on a fruit or vegetable, it can be removed by washing it.  But a lot of places don’t wash their produce properly.

So for the next few weeks, until all settles down, things at restaurants will taste different. The true victims of this outbreak are those of us who enjoy fresh tomatoes.

 

A Red Album Review From A Weezer Fanboy

The problem with new Weezer albums is that they are almost always compared by reviewers to the group’s previous efforts.

Reviewers often make up for their lack of creativity or unwillingness to move on with life by mentioning the band’s other efforts, previous bassists or frequent hiatuses. Unfortunately, this takes focus away on what the reviewer is supposed to be doing (reviewing a new album) and places it on the fact that the reviewer is living in the past.

So here it is, a commentary on Weezer’s recently released album, Weezer (2008, a.k.a The Red Album) that keeps mention of certain issues to a minimum.  And by the way, we’re not talking about the roody-poo ten-track CD that was issued. As far as I’m concerned, The Red Album is the 14-track “bonus/deluxe” edition.

After a listen to The Red Album, three words come to mind: bold, fun, rock.

For a band that has, in the past, perfected the 2.5 minute power pop song, this album is adventerous. This album features longer songs, increased use of synthesizers and other instruments, and different songwriters/lead singers throughout its 14 tracks. However, the most bold of all moves, especially for a band whose lead guitarist can shred, is the total lack of guitar solos.  But the beauty of that move is they’re not missed. These songs throw a lot out there. Case in point, The Greatest Man That Ever Lived (Variations on a Shaker Hymn), showcasing about ten different musical styles, all united around a common theme in five minutes. Or Dreamin’, another five-minute gem which takes a light pastoral break in the middle of the rock.

On the surface, the two aforementioned songs aren’t emotionally deep.  The lyrics of TGMTEL are essentially five minutes of rock star posturing from Rivers, set against different genres of music. Not every track needs to whine with emotion. Weezer has succeeded in making quality rock that’s fun to listen to and sing along with.

This is not a lightweight album. If it’s emotion you’re looking for, consider The Spider or Pig, where Rivers contemplates his morality and place in the universe. There’s also Pat Wilson-penned Automatic, which he calls “family rock.” Or, probably the deepest song on The Red Album, The Angel and the One, a soaring number that just builds and builds before a long wind-down, much like the most underrated song on The Beatles’ self-titled album, Long, Long, Long.

The Red Album contains a lot of reflection, something you’d expect from Rivers, who a) wrote Pinkerton and b) meditates for fun. But not all of this introspection is in angst.  Most of it drives the music and ties into the fun aspect mentioned earlier. Consider the album opener Troublemaker, where Rivers sings of his childhood wishes to be a rock star (complete with reference to that awkward phase in ’99), or Pork and Beans, where he discovers he’s just fine with himself.  The introspection is all over the album, just not how you’d expect it.

In recent interviews, Rivers has expressed an interest in expanding himself musically and lyrically. No longer content with “generic” sounding songs, he’s mixing up arrangements, and even starting to write music from the perspective of other people. One of the unexpected gems of the album, Miss Sweeney is a good example of this. The song, about a boss who has some strong feelings for his assistant, features Rivers doing some quasi-rapping in the verses, followed up by big strong hooky rock for the choruses.  Listening to the verses, you wouldn’t think the song would amount to much, but as a whole, Weezer really knocks this one out of the park.

With all of this considered, you really can’t compare Red to any of the other Weezer albums. Band collaboration has increased exponentially. There are different songwriters and even singers.  The band is in a different place when it comes to promoting the album and allowing their fans to hear what’s been produced along the way. As I’ve mentioned previously, it’s an exciting time to be a Weezer fan. And this is the perfect album for that time.

Where's Hideki?

For the past six seasons, the Yankees have had a dependable, professional and productive Japanese import–Hideki Matsui, an outfielder who has been a steady contributor to the team.

Ten years ago, the Yankees had another Japanese import, their first (if you’re not counting Kats Maeda), also named Hideki, but he wasn’t really dependable, professional, and was only productive in short spurts.

Hideki Irabu made his first appearance as a MLB player in July of ’97 after the Yankees acquired his rights (Along with Homer Bush) from the Padres. There was a lot of build-up and media frenzy during the acquisition and Irabu’s stint in the minors. While he impressed in his first game against the Tigers, he quickly fell apart and went back and forth between the minors and the big leagues.  A lot of news stories around the time focused on the fact that Irabu was rude, couldn’t cover first base and had a straight fastball.

Believe it or not, in the early months of the ’98 season, Irabu was the teams’ most dependable starter. In a year where injuries threatened the team early on, he kept a sub-3.00 ERA through July, and didn’t lose his first start until May 30.

Starting in late ’98, Hideki turned back into a pumpkin and floundered throughout ’99 before being dealt away to Montreal, in a deal where Expos management must have thought they were getting Cy Young.

The New York Times recently checked in on Irabu, who still lives in the U.S. and is in the restaurant business in California:

Irabu, who was out of the country and could not be reached for comment, now enjoys relative anonymity. He lives with his wife, Kyonsu, and two children in a three-bedroom home in the hills of Rancho Palos Verdes, about 25 miles south of downtown Los Angeles. In his current hometown, the difference from Manhattan or Tokyo is as easy to spot as the horse trails that run alongside many of the streets. His main chore is checking in on a pair of Japanese restaurants he has invested in. “He has a good life,” Nomura said.

As for the restaurant business, “one day he called me and said he was buying a udon shop,” Nomura said of the Japanese term for noodle. The fast-food shop was open for about a year, but closed late last year despite what neighbors in the industrial neighborhood of Gardena said was a brisk lunch-time business. Nomura said Irabu sold the business, but has two other restaurants, although he is not involved in their day-to-day operations.

One thing about that article- in the picture, Irabu is wearing a long Yankees jacket- in the middle of July. And that summer was hot, and now that I think about it, he was always wearing long sleeves.  Thing is, that summer, in New York, Irabu t-shirts were everywhere.

And as mentioned on his baseball-reference page, I still own two of them.

The Greatest Video That Never Got Any Play

Weezer, “performing” The Greatest Man That Ever Lived.  This was actually produced by MTV, but it won’t air on the station, because, you know, they don’t show videos anymore.  And don’t look for it on VH1 Classic either, because they can’t fit it in between their 200 airings of Spinal Tap this month.

I’ll have a few words to say about the Red Album this weekend.