Every day down here I'm hearing or remembering a tune that should have gotten on that Jamaica mix:

Warbling autotune and pitched-up strings make the chorus on this one sound like some epic Pakistani pop shit.

White Animal Sound Jamaica 2010 mix

I've been down in St. Elizabeth parish Jamaica for the past few weeks thanks to my awesome friends. Here's a mix of some the biggest tunes mashing up Jamaica right now. Everyone who has been down here recently should remember a few of these from the radio and clubs. Thanks to DJ Bag from the Wild Onion and all the Treasure Beach crew, Outlaw sound, Flex FM and Irie FM, "Rasta" in Junction and all the mixtape vendors!
Jamaica 2010 by White Animal
Download a .zip file of the individual tracks here:
http://www.divshare.com/download/10326420-afa

Blak Ryno- Bike Back // Go-Go Club Riddim prod. by Russian
Konshens & Dario- Do D Thing
Vybz Kartel- Go-Go Club
Merital- My Money (Ha Ha)
Vybz Kartel- Nah Let Go // England Town Riddim
Vybz Kartel ft. Shebba- Do Me Dat
Busy Signal- Cah Buy Me Out // Feel Free Riddim
Ricky Blaze- I Feel Free
Ding Dong- Holiday
Serani ft. Ding Dong- Skip to my Lou
Mavado- House Cleaning
Mavado- Starlight // Produced by Steven "Di Genius" McGregor
Chino- Pon Your Head
Collie Buddz- Eyez
Busy Signal- One More Night
Busy Signal- Night Shift
Queen Ifrica- Nun Bwoy
Tarrus Riley- Love's Contagious // Coming in from the Cold Riddim
BUJU BANTON- TIME AND PLACE (FREE THE MAN!)
Tarrus Riley- Human Nature (Micheal Jackson)
Elephant Man- Nuh Guh Make It // Sleeping with a Broken Heart Riddim
Wasp ft. Alicia Keys- Try Sleeping with a Broken Heart
Wasp- Unfair Officer

<3step Trailer

Oh, 80s Ione Sky, where are you in my life?

Things I <3 about New York

I'm leaving for Jamaica in the morning and I'm not sure if I'll be back to try and live in New York city anytime soon. I've been in NYC for the past few months and I feel like I've spent a distressing amount of that time engaged in the near-insufferable pastime of complaining about the city and what it has been offering me and whinging about things I don't like about it. I apologize to anyone who has had to entertain this nonsense. As a form of penance, here are a few little things that I truly do appreciate about this place, and of course this is just the tip of the iceburg.

Cheap food. This is a no-brainer. There are more under-ten-dollar meal options in New York than you can imagine and virtually every ethnic subgenre is represented. If you've been following this blog even intermittently you've already seen how much I appreciate and take advantage of this.

Talking to convenience store/deli/diner employees and cab drivers late at night. Somewhere in that giddy liminal space of an NYC party night you are bound to encounter a member of the sober, (generally) affable, and accommodating legion of New York's graveyard shift workers. Quite often, these folks are from exotic and far-flung places, and if you show even a rudimentary knowledge of their homeland and it's current events they usually will swell with pride and let you in on their opinions on them. If you read an international news story in the morning, there is a good chance that you could encounter someone from the location of that dateline later that night who can give you their insider's take. The fact that these opinions can often be eccentric, paranoid, racially charged or misinformed is irrelevant.
Talking to someone who is not condescending, belligerent or completely ignorant at that time of night is usually a refreshing change for them and they will express gratitude that you are even interested in their story. One of the best experiences I had in New York was talking to a fair skinned, blue-eyed ethnic Muslim from Azerbaijan who was slinging cheese fries and chili dogs in an all-night kiosk near St. Marks place. When I asked him about his faith his face lit up and he showed me how in between pumping nacho cheese he was reading the complete works of Rumi and the other ecstatic Sufi poets, in Farsi, on a bulky, outdated P.C. under the service window. "I do not drink, no drugs," he told me, "This poems, is my drug."
These type of encounters are readily attainable any night in New York. Just don't expect a discount.

Hot people. Sorry, rest of America, but most of them are here. Although being surrounded by babes all the time can be a curse as well as a blessing, there is no denying that if you spend a few months in New York and then fly into the Midwestern airport of your choosing, you will feel like you've been living in a cartoon and the producers have just suddenly outsourced the character design to some foreign firm with a drastically lower pay scale and quality standards.

Stomping on metal bulkhead covers, especially while walking home late at night. They are springy and make a satisfying booming sound. It's like jumping in puddles without the mess.

Watching people wearing earbuds groove to their music on the train. You can sort of guess what genre they are listening to from the manner in which they lightly tap their feet, silently snap, and rock back forth. There is a limit to my enjoyment of their enjoyment of their music, though: once they start to whistle or sing along it is funny for a like a minute and then just gets annoying.
I also appreciate that most of the Mexicans I have stood near that are wearing earbuds on the train are listening to Cumbia, which I can deduce from the tell-tale "Chi-chichi-Chi-chichi" of the claves in the song that they are listening to at what must be an ear-splitting volume. This makes me offer them an non-verbal, gestural "Que onda, guey?".
mp3:
Tzochitl Soundsystem VS Toy Selectah – Hay Guey (via audioporncentral)

Seeing the City through the eyes of it's tourists. It's easy to take the place where you are living for granted and get jaded. But, when I see packs of Chilean hipsters or Parisian teenagers wearing brand-new Chuck Taylors, Wayfearers, and some design t-shirt they just bought walking around New York, taking in everything with an awe-struck look that seems to say "We are really here! I is a Ramone now?", you can't help but get a little excitement-by-osmosis.

Dancing to New York hip hop classics with New Yorkers. As much as I've enjoyed the resurgence of disco, boogie and 80s funk that seems to be going on with the hipster DJ set in New York right now, there's still nothing that beats dancing to that rap shit with people that grew up in New York. It seems like no matter how lilly-white your party is there will always be at least one group of black or Puerto rican girls there looking fly and if you put on something like

they will go off. There is something Pavlovian that happens when real New Yorkers hear the first bars of "Hypnotize"- if they don't start dancing immediately, when Biggie says "Sicker than your average" they are powerless to resist. Follow that up with something like

Then you'll see big smiles all around, no more mean mugging, drinks in the air, mouthing lyrics and licking shots at the DJ. "Where Brooklyn at? Where Brooklyn at?"

One thing I don't like about New York, though is people's tendency to pontificate about it endlessly so I'll stop there. Next up on Animal Blanco: top things I like about sitting on a Caribbean beach eating fresh seafood and drinking an ice cold Red Stripe.

Udachi @ Trouble & Bass

The heavyweight bass champion sound system of NYC, Trouble & Bass, hosted the DJ/Producer Udachi for their holiday gala and we were there to soak up the subwoofery.
That's Udachi in the center along with Drop the Lime, Star Eyes etc. who were trading off with Dubstep, Bassline House, Grime, Bmore and dirty Rave Bangers. We rolled in after 2AM and the place was crawling with sketchball ravers who kept asking us for E and ketamine. At this point the smoking ban was out the window and the air was thick with menthol smoke. It was, as the song seh, "Whaa whaa whaa whaa, whaa whaa whaa whaa, whaa whaa whaa whaa whaa... BONKERS!"


Here's an Udachi mix to give you a taste.
Udachi - mix for under140 by udachi 01 Udachi - JellyRoll
02 SL2 - On a Ragga Tip (Breakdown remix)
03 Rico Tubbs - Work This
04 AC Slater - Grab You
05 Drop the Lime - Good Inside
06 Burial - Archangel - (Boy 8 bit remix)
07 Lo-Fi-Fnk - Change Channel (Jitset remix)
08 Nick Supply - Hizniz (Stupid Fresh remix)
09 Donald Glaude, DJ Dan - Stick 'Em (TJR remix)
10 Herve & Toddla T - How Y'all Like Me Now
11 AC Slater - Jack Got Jacked (Udachi remix)
12 Herve - Cheap Thrills
13 B Rich – Can’t Take What I Got
14 Rico Tubbs - Ghetto Funk Baby
15 Crookers - Sveglia
16 Body Snatchers ft Yolanda - We Here (Big Pimpin')
17 RQM - Miss Pacman (Oliver $ Remix)
18 Chocolate Party - Wickid (Mark Mendez remix)
19 Estaw - Weird All
20 Midfield General - Disco Sirens
21 Boltan - Creepy
22 NAPT - Gotta Have More Cowbell
23 Hot Chip - Ready For the Floor (Soulwax Dub)
24 Fake Blood - Fake Blood Theme
25 M83 - Graveyard Girl (Yuksek remix)

BTW, this Udachi feat. Jubilee song/video is retarded and hilarious.

Another food photo

Yo, what the motherfuck is the point of taking a photo and writing about some busted sushi I had on Graham ave.? What is the lesson to be learned here, don't eat sushi from a place where the whole staff is plainly from Bangladesh? If you don't know that already, you shouldn't be dining out. Go make yourself a sandwich. And pleaase, take a photo of that bitch, post it up, and rate it on a scale of 1 to who-gives-a-shit.
A food blogger? Who wants to be a food blogger in 2010? What am I, an intern for Rachel Ray's twitter feed?
Somebody start comping me some triple-digit meals and we'll talk. A food blogger?
That's about as fresh as wearing knockoff Wayfarers.
...C'mon Son!

Catering Part 3

My third gig catering? Oh, just a little party for someone called Dan Graham, a conceptual artist who, amongst many other things, turned concert footage of Black Flag and Minor Threat into high art. This was at SculptureCenter in Long Island City, Queens. His guests were some some artsy types called Mirror/Dash, AKA Thurston Moore and Kim Gordon of Sonic Youth. All of these folks happened to be at the table I was pouring wine at, so I was at their side all night, fighting the urge to drop my professional decorum and be all "Teenage Riot is the best pop song evarr!"
I did risk my burgeoning catering career by busting out the iphone to take some clandestine snaps, which apparently is strictly forbidden at events like this, but that's not what you see here. I swiped these photos from the official website because they were like mine, but good.
The whole night was surreal. We were serving fondue to bunch of Downtown conceptual art weirdos and their lovely teenage socialite daughters as well as straight-laced SculptureCenter benefactors and older art patrons. Meanwhile they were projecting the aforementioned Black Flag footage as well as other strange rock and roll counter-culture themed videos by Graham overhead. Thurston Moore and Kim Gordon got up and read a weird astrological tribute to Graham with video of Rams behind them.Dan Graham is an adorable little eccentric genius man!
Mirror/Dash played an acoustic but still abrasive and confrontational set which most of the older crowd could barely wince their way through. Kim Gordon kicked over a folding chair to heighten this tension and reassert that she was still punk as fuck!

Later on the band Japanther played out in the freezing-cold open courtyard surrounded by bonfires, with my fellow servers weaving through the crowd distributing hot whiskey and "red-hot" cinnamon bark. Keep in mind I was getting paid good money to work this event. Madness!

Smalltown DJs- Best of 2009 mix

Anyone who was appalled by my last mix selection will be relieved that this week's choice actually involves some "good music" and "songs". There's quite a few of those on this best of 09 mix by Canada's Smalltown DJs, particularly in the second half. There are a few questionable ones as well ("Dominos" by Big Pink is a particularly painful choice), but that has always been Smalltown DJs role- to take you on a journey through white-people music that takes you just to the outskirts of your comfort zone and back again.
SMALLTOWN DJs - BEST 09 by Smalltown DJs
1) While you wait for the Others - Grizzly Bear feat. Michael Macdonald
2) Just ain't Gonna Work Out - Mayer Hawthorne
3) Stillness is the Move - Solange Knowles
4) Dominoes - The Big Pink
5) Nothing to Worry About - Peter, Bjorn & John
6) No You Girls (Grizzl Remix) - Franz Ferdinand
7) So Insane - Discovery
8) The Sticky - Black Moth Super Rainbow
9) Lizstomania (Classixx Remix) - Phoenix
10) Psychic City - Yacht
11) Blood Bank (Skinny Friedman edit) - Bon Iver
12) Home - Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros
13) Animal (Mark Ronson Remix) - Miike Snow
14) Shelter (Them Jeans Remix) - The XX
15) Cruel Intentions - Simian Mobile Disco feat. Beth Ditto
16) Walking on the Moon (U-Tern's Kris Menace blend) - The Dream
17) Bulletproof - La Roux
18) One Life Stand - Hot Chip
19) Rain Dance - The Very Best feat. M.I.A.
20) You Got the Love (The XX Remix) - Florence & The Machine
21) Night by Night (Skream Remix) - Chromeo
22) Pursuit of Happiness - Kid Cudi feat Ratatat & MGMT

Holiday Movie Round-Up!

The holiday movie season is behind us, and a historic one it has turned out to be. Attendance records were smashed and box-office grosses surged to new heights, all without a Martin Lawrence vehicle in theaters! Now that the haze of 3-D graphics and the greasy sheen of incredibly expensive partially-hydrogenated butter-flavor popcorn topping has receded, we are afforded a blessed moment of solace to reflect on the kaleidoscopic maelstrom of images that have been beamed relentlessly into our retinas and inner minds over the past weeks.

This week saw millions of Americans flocking to theaters to take part in a singular communal event: witnessing an earth shattering visual spectacle that would revolutionize how we watch movies. Of course, you already know what I'm talking about. Unless you've been living under a rock you've already sat, wide-eyed and jaw agape and let the transformative power of Alvin and the Chimpmunks: The Squeaquel wash over you. I'll get to my official review in just a moment, but first up, an scrappy indie pic that it is limited release now: The Avatar.
The Avatar is a new film from the visionary director Kirk Cameron, the genius behind The Titantic, several episodes of Growing Pains, and the uber-hot Left Behind film series, which were screen adaptations of the Fundamentalist Christian pamphlets about the Rapture and the impossibility of Dinosaurs that you can find in most Greyhound stations.

His new blockbuster was made using a host of new movie-magic technologies, including "The C.G.I." which is a process in which a movie is put into a computer, which can have amazing results, including turning many of the characters blue.

The special effects wizards also developed something called "Motion Capture" where real people are filmed and then digitized. And here's an Animal Blanco exclusive: raw footage from the set of The Avatar. Here are the human actors portraying the Na'vi people before their "motion" was "captured". This scene is one of their tribal ceremonies.

This powerful technology was heightened by the work of art director Lisa Frank, who brought the same whimsy and rainbow color palate to the film's creatures and environments that have made her Unicorn pencil cases so legendary.
But it's not all flying dragons and hot, hot blue alien sex. There is an amazing message here about imperialism, ancient wisdom, and the need all primitive tribal people have for a civilized white man to come sleep with their women and save them by teaching them how to use guns. This is a message every child deserves to hear.

And speaking of children, they are going to LOVE the Squeakquel! This movie has everything- crudely blended animation and live-action, awkward attempts at "urban" humor (i.e. watered down black culture being parroted by an animated, ostensibly white anthropomorphic chipmunk), respected comedians like David Cross and Amy Poehler gingerly dipping their toes into the fetid open latrine of career-killing family film roles, an awesome tagline ("Get Munk'd"), and best of all, the greatest actor of our time, Sir Jason Lee. Honestly, looking at this man's film role choices is like getting a preview of the Critereon collection of tomorrow. Maybe Lee's drive for greatness can be attributed to the fact that he is a Scientologist, as they are always admonishing their converts to strive for personal glory and self-realization. He certainly has done that by scoring a role in this, the mother of all event movies.

And speaking of mothers, yours is squarely in the demographic of It's Complicated.

I don't know about you but I am scandalized and offended by this poster and by this film's whole concept. The picture up there is bad enough: Alec Baldwin's smug, post-coital reverie and Meryl Streep's embarrassed dishevelment just forces you to wonder want kind of messy aftermath lies beneath that typeface-covered duvet.
But, as it turns out, that is what the film is all about: hardcore gratuitous middle-aged sex.
I mean, I enjoy pornography as much as anyone, but mature porn (or granny porn) is just not a subgenre that I think should be seeing the light of day in such a mainstream forum. Couldn't they just find some preternaturally sexual teenagers looking to make a buck like other pornographers?
No. Instead we have to sit through Baldwin banging Streep for 90 minutes. Doggystyle in the dining room. Streep riding Baldwin in the pantry. Then, back to the bedroom-- uh oh, who's that peeking in the window? Steve Martin, that's who, and he brought K-Y. Now what you've got on your hands is hot-pressed Streep panini. Is this really what people want to see when they go out for a nice night at the Multiplex? That famously prolific Baldwin spunk flying all over the screen? Meryl Streep, an Oscar winner, a goddamn national treasure, being vigorously sodomized by a man who's next film is Cheaper by the Dozen 3?

I think it's an outrage, and I'm boycotting it, along with every other movie in wide release this holiday season, including The Sherlock Homes, so that I can wrap up this round-up and rest up.. for next year! See you at the movies theater!

Mexican Meat Pizza

In "Lil Mexico", Sunset Park, Chris and I went to get some pizza (well, not Chris, he is vegan and was happy with a Squirt, his favorite Mexican soft-drink jumpoff). I asked the dude what was inside that mysterious double-crusted pizza he he said "Todos tipos de carne."
I didn't realize that he meant "TODOS tipos de carne", like, in el mundo. The thing had pepperoni, ham, ground beek, breaded chopped chicken and sausage. Look at that photo, it looks like the cover of a gory Mexican tabloid about narco-violence. I ate about a third of it. There's just something obscene about eating that much low-quality meat in so few bites.

The Brooklyn Laundry

My second gig catering was with The Brooklyn Laundry, which is an awesome crew led by Fiore Tedesco (left). My friend Lee was working side by side with Fiore in the kitchen and I was out on the floor tending to the guests of a 50th Birthday party for a publishing executive. The party was held in a penthouse loft in the same Chelsea building that houses Tesla Motors, makers of incredible electric sports cars. The 5 course menu was Moroccan-themed and culminated in a lamb-shank roasted in a paper bag which you can see them plating below.















Brooklyn Laundry largely operates as a traveling supper-club that serves seasonal, thematic and local menus in various locations throughout NYC. In this capacity the company doesn't turn a big profit, so Fiore bankrolls his labor of love with special catering gigs like this one.

















The punch was Bulleit Bourbon, Tangerine Nectar, Fee Brothers Peach Bitters and San Pellegrino.
And the afterparty looked like...

Sadat X- True Wine Connoisseur!

Sadat X from Brand Nubian has found a new calling as a wine tasting expert on youtube! He's like the Gary Veynerchuck for the streets! His price-point range is between 10 and 11 dollars, he drinks the wine straight out of the bottle and rates the wine using the "fucked-up factor", e.g. how fucked-up it will get you. Do yourself a favor and click though the related videos to watch all the episodes this shit is hilarious. "Smoove!"

And if you don't know who Sadat is, here's a Brand Nubian throwback from 93, "Punks Jump up to get Beat Down" to jar your memory.

SALEM on WMIG

A messy, fucked-up mix from messy fucked-up kids. Salem on record are all backwoods Michigan nihilistic druggy gay chopped'n'screwed black metal vibes and Chicago juke gone evil yet mopey. On this mix they play some of their own songs and other things that make you feel like you are tripping on Robitussin DM. You can read more about Salem's singer John Holland turning tricks at truck stops, smoking crack, and appreciating Mariah Carey in this interview from BUTT magazine.

Download We Make it Good Vol. 11: Salem (Click Here)


1. Psycho Drama – Alkuholiks
2. Salem – Pig Fucker
3. Skeeter Davis – The End of the World (Drag Remix)
4. oOoOoo – Seaw
5. AIDS 3D – Party Animal Dirge
6. Salem feat. Gucci Mane – Round One (SalemRemix)
7. Salem – Hoodrych
8. The Beach Boys – Whispering Winds (Drag Remix)
9. Sinistas – SZXZ
10. oOoOoo – Mumbia
11. Salem – Water
12. Twista – Hey Lover Boy
13. Tha Pope – Track 41
14. Light Asylum – Shallow Tears (Drag Remix)

Sopa de Camarones

When you are sick in Sunset park with some kind of swine-like virus, dragging yourself out to get some Mexican soup and loading it up with lime and salsa Valentina is the best decision you can make. That is, until the jukebox fires up with some ear-splitting Banda music which makes your head pound X10 worse.

Catering Part 1

Oh Hai, here is the view from where I worked my first catering gig. It was a holiday party for a cheerful bunch of folks called "Fiduciary Trust International". One overheard conversation:

Conservative financier #1: This "Mister" Obama is going to be a one-term-President!
Conservative financier #2: Oh, absolutely.
Conservative financier #3: And God forbid something happen to him during that term!
(knowing chuckles all around)

This was real old money. One gentleman there, I was delighted to see, was wearing a pinstripe suit, spectacles, and a name tag identifying himself as "Lark". "Er, it's a faamily name. Laarrk was Mummy's uncle.", I imagined him to explicate through Patrician clenched jaw.

Oh, and question: How Mi Look?


... answer:

Saltie

Saltie is an aesthetically-minded sandwich shop on Metropolitan which which was started by a former chef from Diner. Their aesthetic bent is all-encompassing: the name is British slang for sailor. The shop is all navy blue and white. The sandwiches all have nautical monikers like the "Ship's Biscuit" and the "Captain's Daughter" (it's the fishy-smelling one). Add this to the seemingly all-lesbian staff presided over by a British lady bo'sun who looks and talks like a slightly less-pretty Shane McGowan and it's like traveling to some alternate reality where old-time seafaring Cockneys were largely concerned with sandwich preparation and scoring Teagan and Sara tickets.
I did go for the Captain's Daughter (is anyone surprised?), which was "high quality tinned sardines" with capers and flat-leaf parsley. It was sort of like an ultra-savory high grade Tuna sandwich served on a chewy homemade focaccia biscuit.

Jewish Christmas came early

Later in the day after Egg and Bloody Mary's at Enid's, we decided to to have Jewish Christmas dinner- Old-School Cantonese Chinese enjoyed in a slightly depressing, seasonally decorated environment.
Chinese Musician is an awesomely unique name for a Chinese restaurant. Their food was maybe not as indelible as the name, but it did stand out for being decidedly more classic than most of the crappy Chinese in the Greenpoint. Little touches like carved vegetables and the shu-mai wrappers that come with the Peking Duck make you remember why this kind of food used to be such a favorite before things like Sushi and Thai food came to kick it's ass.

























The only thing unenjoyable about this meal was when one of the British guys in the booth next to us tried to show off his worldliness by yelling "NEE-HOW!" to get the waitress' attention. Then they proceeded to complain about one of their dishes, which apparently didn't live up to the standards that they have grown accustomed to in London. These type of cunts are crawling all over New York right now, throwing around their exchange rate weight, wearing twee spectacles and Plimsoles and charming ladies with their Geico lizard-like cadences. It makes me want to watch some Rednecks stomp them while I listen to "Party in the U.S.A."

3 more seconds to choose your knife.

Alicia Silverstone R.I.P.

Goodnight, sweet princess.

Jesus Rides Beside Me... never buys any smokes.

Egg

When we got to Egg on south 6th in Williamsburg there were so many other parties waiting ahead of us, writing their names down on the guest list posted out front that we were nearly discouraged and sent off to one of the many lesser brunch options in the neighborhood. Luckily many of the parties ahead of us felt similarly and ended splitting before their name was called. The hostess crossed out like five names from the list and we were soon seated. All those quitters may have had a passable meal, but these is no way they found a place that is nearly as goddamn serious about breakfast as Egg.
The menu was deceptively simple. There were not as many adjectives and compound-words as I had thought there might be. This was not molecular gastronomy, it was really good breakfast. The quality was apparent right away from the excellent coffee they serve to you in your own personal French Press. As the caffeine takes hold and you wait for your food to arrive you can draw on the table with crayons. Chris waited patiently to enjoi his food. "Damn, Homie."
















I went for the eggs Rothko, which was basically Toad-in-the-Hole, an egg and cheese cooked into the hollow middle of a slice of bread. We nerdily conjectured that this version must have gotten it's name not from being a favorite dish of the abstract painter, but for actually kind of looking like one of his works:






















Actually, we are not nerds for figuring this out, they are nerds for thinking of it. The best kind of nerds!
There were confit tomatoes and everything, even the breakfast sausage was either local, sustainable, handmade, artisianal, theraputic, homestyle or some combination thereof. Xina went for cheese grits and there biscuits and blackberry preserves, mimosas and happy-pig pork products being passed around.

Cafe Luluc

My reoccurring NYC dining partner Lilah and I traveled to what seems to be an hotbed of pseudo-Parisian bistros in Brooklyn: Smith street in Cobble Hill/Carol Gardens. We were drinking wine at Bar Tabac but left there for fear that the place was too theme-restaurant to have authentic French food and stumbled into what might be the most inauthentic bistro of all: Cafe Luluc.
This place is what happens when one group of the multitudes of Mexicans that are well versed and seasoned in French culinary technique make the logical step off breaking off from whatever French-owned institution they cut their teeth in to start their own brand of bistrot.
I could tell this was the case right away, but then got excited at the idea of sampling this new, post-modern branch of cookery. The fact that the entrees were all close to five dollars cheaper than any of the other more authentic joints in the area sealed the deal.
As I had guessed everything was just a bit off: the bread seemed to have been sliced from a half-stale Italian loaf from the bodega, the wine was a bit sweet, and my steak was more like carne asada with a sweet caramelized shallot sauce and handful of fries that I thought might have been imported from a McDonalds. The meat wasn't bad at all, but also not nearly rare enough. Lilah's handmade raviolis with a sage brown butter sauce were delightful, though- they displayed that certain Gallic magic of making something swimming in fat seem light. Vivre la Mexique, guey!

Sting 2009

I just finalized my plan to go down to Jamaica next month for my friend's wedding, though I'll be too late for this shit:
Bounty Killer versus Vybez Kartel! If you don't know the deal, Vybez was basically Bounty Killer's protege, but has since stepped out of his shadow to become the biggest artist in Jamaica. The only other contender to that title is Mavado, who Vybez battled and defeated at Sting 2009. Now he has turned his sights on his former mentor in a dramatic development straight out of a kung-fu movie. This is the young, fiercely talented upstart challenging the leader of the old guard in the most theatrical of settings. Bounty is still highly respected but may be past his prime in term of lyrics and relevance. Whatever may happen at this Soundclash, I can still remember when Bounty was the undisputed king. Remember this one?


Look into my eyes, tell me what you see?
Can you feel my pain? am I your enemy?
Give us a better way, things are really bad,
The only friend I know is this gun I have.
Listen to my voice, this is not a threat
Now you see the nine are you worried yet?
You've been talking 'bout' you want the war to cease
But when you show us hope, we will show you peace.

Look into my mind, can you see the wealth?
Can you tell that I want to help myself?
But if it happen that I stick you for your ring
Don't be mad at me it's a survival ting.
Look into my heart, I can feel your fear
Take another look can you hold my stare?
Why are you afraid of my hungry face?
Or is it this thing bulging in my waist?
Chorus

Look into my life, can you see my kids?
Let me ask you this,do you know what hungry is?
Well in this part of town, survival is my will
For you to stay alive you've got to rob and kill.
Look into my house would you live in there?
Look me in the eyes and tell me that you care,
Well I've made up my mind to end up in the morgue
Right now I'd rather die, cause man a live like dog.

Look down on my shoes, can you see my toes?
The struggle that we live nobody really knows
Stop and ask yourself, would you live like that?
and if you had to then, wouldn't you bus gun shot?
Look into the schools, tell me how you feel?
You want the kids to learn without a proper meal
Den what you have in place to keep them out of wrong?
If they drop out of school dem a go bus dem gun

The South Philly Roasted Pork Sandwhich

The South-Philly style roasted pork sandwich is one of those regional sandwich specialties that requires a very precise application of specific elements. These are: Roasted Pork loin which has been rubbed with Italian herbs and salt and pepper, an Amoroso Italian roll, shaved extra-sharp provolone, steamed or sauteed brocolli rabe, sweet-hot marinated Italian cherry peppers, and a extra side of the fatty juice from the bottom of the roasting pan. The bitterness of the Brocolli rabe and bracing intensity of real Italian sharp provolone make this a surprisingly challenging crowd pleaser, but it is the binding element of hot, seasoned liquid pork fat that has made this sandwich as dear if not dearer to the swollen, clogged hearts of Philadelphians than the cheesesteak.
When I was down visiting my Mom for Thanksgiving we attempted to find a real Roast Pork sandwich and were only marginally successful. This sandwich's pork, for one thing, was thin sliced and not lopped up in meaty chunks as it should be. Herr's Salt and Vinegar chips were a nostalgic accompaniment, however.
PS HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MA!

Saint's Alp

Saint's Alp tea house (click that link, their website design is epic) is a newish bubble tea and snacks place across from where I was living on Bedford. This is the kind of place found all over Asia where teenagers hang out after school having good clean fun getting jacked on sugar and comparing Nintendogs or whatever. Although Saint's Alp is a chain from Hong Kong, the snacks and light meals they offered appeared to be largely Taiwanese, though I could be wrong about that. I went for a to-go rice bowl that included fried chicken, picked daikon, bok choy, and by far the best element: a sticky, sweet/spicy minced pork sauce that come with most of their rice bowls. This stuff reminded me of the Cincinnati-style chili you might get on a hot dog. This rice bowl didn't travel very well, even across the street to the beer store and back, but for 5 or 6 dollars it proved to be a worthwhile expedition into one of the more obscure of the Asian cuisines.

Storage Mart

Does anyone else think that it's fucked up that this storage space in South Williamsburg wants you to store your pets in their units? I mean, no matter how much food you leave in there, you know the dogs are just going to eat it all right away and get sick and spend the next weeks just slowly wasting away. Even if the cats are a bit more conservative with their consumption, there is only so long they can last in those little spaces, howling for attention. And what about feces? They are bound to be ankle deep in the foul stuff by the time I return, if ever, from Turks and Caicos, with some little trinkets and a few half-hearted apologies.

Fette Sau

When my Sister came to visit I finally had an opportunity to try out Fette Sau, the hella-serious Barbeque/Smokehouse place on Grand near my place that fills the surrounding blocks with the glorious smells of hickory and roasting pig. Caitlin was pleased with my choice, saying that the Brisket was some the best she had ever tried. We also went with some Ribs and some Burnt-End piece baked beans, which seemed to have absorbed all the delicious and dark elements of Barbeque, right down to the fat, the carbon, the caramelization, and indeed the essential transgressive thrill of being carnivore itself.
I was only disappointed that they didn't have more soul-food type sides. I could have dealt with some Mac and Cheese or at very least cornbread, but instead we were offered only white rolls and some cole slaw. Probably by even complaining about the paucity of sides I am exposing myself as a Barbeque philistine to the bearded grillmaster elite types they had working behind the counter there.

Lomzynianka

Although it's kind of silly to sit there and google "Polish Restaurant Greenpoint", when you could also just go to Manhattan avenue and throw a pierogie and hit one, I did it anyway and came up with Lomzynianka. The restaurant review sites rated this place highly, saying it was huge portions of home-cooked food for next to nothing. Many of the reviews took issue with the decor, though. Apparently the visual sense of sitting in a Polish family's tacky dining room is distasteful to the rarefied sensibilities of the Chowhound cognoscenti. Some of the reviews also paradoxically promised that this place is only frequented by real people from the neighborhood, not yuppie trash, which begged the question in my mind "So who are the people writing all these reviews?!"

As I guessed, the place was filled with young Williamsburgers who looked like they were mentally preparing online reviews (especially me, because I actually was... you want some meta-Kielbasa with that?) and the only Polish being spoken was in the kitchen. But, the reviews were right about the food, it was plentiful and plainly being whipped up by a real Polish grandma. Her son, the owner was waiting on all the tables in between having adorable Sunday night quality time sitting watching TV with his teenage daughter. And though the prices had certainly gone up since the menu you can find on their website was posted (it promises things like a 5$ Polish platter), it was still a super-cheap way to get disgustingly full. I'm not sure if the pierogies and even the kielbasa were supposed to be deep fried like that, but otherwise it was an awesome Polish experience where the only strong flavors are dill and vinegar, and if you are sitting close enough to the owner and his daughter having family night, you feel like you are in an outtake from one of the more tender episodes of The Decalogue.

And, No, I cannot pronounce that name either. I had to re-google it to write this, because all I could remember is that it sounded something like "Lizstomania".

Winter in NYC

One cool part about staying in New York in the winter is that the weather report on the news every night is just this:



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"Vetty Cold!"

Sleepers Work Dec 20th

This thing turned out to be pretty chill and loungey last time we did it, so come out and you'll actually be able to talk to your friends between bouts of weird dancing.

Cruel Intentions

BIG Tune!!! You might have heard the O.G. of this on that Aeroplane mix I posted last month, but I must say Joker owns this shit with that Bristol Dubstep/G-Funk sound. That's Beth Ditto of the Gossip on vocals BTW getting all 90s R&B Diva on that ass. Beth seems commited to never recording a good song with own band and making huge dance singles with British DJs.

As a flipside to indie-rock chicks getting all R&B, here is Solange Knowles (who apparantly is now a pseudo-hipster celebrity DJ) covering the Dirty Projectors. She handles the vocal workout nonchalantly, all over the instrumental from "XXplosive" off The Chronic 2001.

La Superior

La Superior is a real-ass Mexican place not far from the base of the Williamsburg bridge. They have Lengua, Sesos (Brains), Cebollitas (Grilled green onions soaked in Worcestershire sauce), and fucking Tortas Ahogadas straight out of Guadalahara. They have fresas Mexican hipsters working up front and naco Mexicans working in the back, they have Luchador memorabilia on the walls and cumbia nueva on the stereo, they are doing it right in my book. The only thing they don't have is a liquor license, which sucks because if they could serve micheladas I would never have to leave. As it is, I'm trying to get a job there so I probably shouldn't say much more, but the tacos de lengua and the incredibly spicy pavo en escabeche tacos were excellent. I would prefer them at Mexico city prices, but what can you do?
Bien pedos.

Flashback

You know when you wake up on a trashed speedboat in the Mediterranean with vague recollections of partying in Ibiza with a bunch of British models before heading to the club where you reign supreme with your Handbag-house inspired vapid rave anthems with dubious melodies sung in your mealy-mouthed Scottish accent? This video totally captures that experience.

Beef Bourguignon

What are my attractive, disgustingly wholesome roomates up to this time?
Beef Bourguignon, French wine and crusty bread.

Momufuku MIlk Bar

At this point "blogging" about Momufoku Milk Bar is about as novel as proclaiming "I Love The Smiths!" in a Brooklyn Bar, but I had to go and do it anyway. Milk Bar is the latest spin-off of David Chang's wildly successful Momufuku brand.
My friend Laura is way up on her high-grade ice creams, and having steered me right before, to Mashti Malone's in L.A., I had to take her lead to the Milk Bar to try the Cereal Milk soft serve.

This stuff is wild- it tastes exactly like the milk at the bottom of bowl of corn flakes. Except instead of trying to make that flavor all desert-like, they keep the sweetness subtle and bring out the sour, salty notes you usually take for granted in corn flakes. The other soft-serve flavors they were offering on the night Chris and I visited were Salty Pistachio and Caramel and Double Malted Chocolate, but I've heard of them offering things like Stuffing flavor and Rosemary Flavor.

Their baked goods are equally insane: I went again with Laura's suggestion of a compost cookie: it has chocolate chips, pretzels, potato chips, caramel, coffee and oats. It reminded me of something they might sell in a Phish concert parking lot, the only missing ingredient was opiated weed butter. It was really good, though.
















One thing we couldn't try were their breads, which had sold out as they apparantly always do, early in the day. These change every day, but in the posted schedule I saw things like Green Curry Banana bread(!), Blue Cheese Polenta Bread, and Kimchi Bacon Focciacia(!).
They also serve a few selected beers and David Chang's famous Porks Buns, which I am planning a return trip to experience.