serious TVish ge-mish ge-mosh

I saw NY Rep Charles Rengel on Charlie Rose the other day....awoke from a nap, and there he was, with his old-fashioned but familiar and tough and responsible/ethical political rhetoric. In that sleepy vulnerable state my heart unclenched about 150% and I thought...maybe we are going to be okay. Maybe the fight is not all wheel-spinning.

The reason that hippos are so...so? Their LITTLE FLIPPITY TWIDGETY WIGGLEPUSS ears. Tiny expressive fluttery ears at the intersection of enormous sculpted tonnes of flesh. The scale is insane. And yet it works. The ears are tiny punctuation, transition, at the join in the shape of the animal, but also saying...hello! Little flippity ears! Wee flags on a cruise ship.

Isn't it odd that there are at least two movies out there that feature somewhat yicky close-ups of Alfred Molina's moist lips to make plot points? Enchanted April, where they are the locus of Josie Lawrence's frustration with her clueless, demanding, hidebound, middle-class husband (pre-transformation), chewing away thanklessly at the meal she's provided, and then Chocolat, where they seem to want to symbolize his release from his bourgeois cage of denial and descent into pleasure (post-transformation) as he lies in the window of the chocolaterie after his orgy, although really that latter movie is so smug and simplistic it's hard to give it even that much credit.

Last week on DinersDrive-insandDives they went to a good, very standard-issue Chicago-style restaurant (burgers, Italian beef, Polish, etc.). He was oo-ing and ahhh-ing over the crowds and the food (it looked great), and I found myself full of an unusual, for these days, sense of relief. Because that place is one of like 25 I know of, right off the top of my head, which are that good/crowded/yummy/full of food like that in Chicago, and I didn't have the usual thought of yeah, well, it's the last of a breed, or just one of too few of something, or a place that's too much promoted and I worry there's no back up. There really are bizillions of places like that in Chicago, and THANK GOD. LOTS of people here know about garlic juice.

Speaking of Italian bif (why, how do I like mine, you ask? Dippednopeppersnochiz, thank you), I had *the* most amazing pizza from Rizzata's, my local joint, the other day. I get pizza from them pretty often, but I have now squawked fussily enough about delivering it hot that they're getting pretty good at it, and this time....it was just EPIC. Sooooo thoroughly hot, right out of oven, tender all through the crisp crust, just the right cheese and sauce and pepperoni... It was GOOD, empirically good, za. Not just for delivery za or downtown za or Chicago za, I mean, it just rocked my world. Highly recommend that joint. I was impressed.

No job + clean kitchen + onset of cold weather = more cooking. I'm trying to decide how to deal with the (I've suddenly discovered) 18,000 chicken breasts in the freezer in a wholesale fashion, but some recent things to note, heavily chocolate-related:

• Success: a leftover 1/3 c. of flakes/dust from Schokinag drinking chocolate added to oatmeal/chocolate chip cookie dough. Very good indeed. I basically now always want oatmeal with my chocolate chips. So good! Mini chips work best. And regular oats, definitely. Can't be quick-cooking.
• Best way to cook 1-bowl brownies, I now think: In a very solid high-sided circular 9" cake pan, with a few milk chocolate chips thrown in. Comes out perfect every time at 35/40 min. Good crispy edges, but not too much. One-bowl brownies are not a *super* cheap dessert (building blocks are spendy--bakers chocolate, butter--compared to my usual wacky cake that involves vinegar and cooking oil), but so simple and pleasing, thank you XB. Good thing to know how to make.
• Yummy mock bolognese/stroganoff, a la not thinkin about it too much: In a pan flung a few lardons of frozen bacon, frozen organic ground sirloin, a lil tomato sauce, Worchestershire, balsamic, oregano, sage. Cooked until...not uncooked, kind of shreddy and thick. Tossed with mini penne rigat (very good pasta choice for many dishes), a little cream cheese to loosen (hence the strog)....yum!
• Continuing to find that if you put any chops or cuts of meat in a your enormous Le Creuset frying pan and sear them in a little butter, add a bottle of beer or cider, a big spoon of grainy mustard, and maybe a little honey/balsamic/Worchestershire, it is always good. Beurre maniere is good for the sauce, citrus of any variety (one time I finished them in the oven with a pat of butter and slice of blood orange on top), whatever herbs turn ya on, I've even thrown a dollop of grape jelly for a little sweetness if the beer's too bitter, but basically 1 bottle of something + 1 spoon of grainy mustard is enough. With brown/wild rice...yum.
• BTW it's now officially cocoa weather, so make sure you stock up! I'm pretty much a Hershey's girl, but the Scharffen Berger cocoa...really luxe. And remember that one of the perverse rewards of soy or rice milk (soy esp) is how frothy you can get the drink.

I make a (kinda stupid, ineffectual, but whatever) point of rarely saying "Oh, I love that commercial." It's mostly perverseness. I know advertisers want me to, companies want the buzz, even if I don't buy anything, but I ain't gonna give it to them. Me no commodify my nothing! This has been building, though: I have to say...I LOVE THE CANON DOGGIE COMMERCIALS with Maria whatshername!!!! LOVE THEM!!! I love when the dog says, "No...YOU come on!" Love it love it love it. Gawd help me. They can't show those enough. Watch that link!!!!!

How does Nigella get her sweaters to stay on/stick under the bubs/follow the tum like that? I can really see how she needs them to do that, to not trail her cardies in the puddings, but...how? Busty ladies wanna know.

This is a book, not a blog entry, but: I'M TRYING TO FIGURE OUT HOW KEITH MOON DRUMMED. His gestures...if you watch footage of him drumming, what he did and WHAT SOUNDS CAME OUT...you almost might think he was (drum-)synching. He was FULL of all this gratuitous and oddly-directed, non metronomic, gesture, at least his arms. And yet he was thundering out all this stuff. His touch, despite the constant Animal-like flurry of motion, almost looks LIGHT. It's frothy, frostingy, flurry-filled. Bizarre. He comes at all his high-hats with his sticks really oddly-held, like he's just swiping at them in weird gentle touches from above. I've been trying to figure this out since I was 16 and I am glad I am now saying so, because I know what I see and I know what I hear and they need to be better knitted together for me. I love his drumming, don't get me wrong. Just full of unreconciled visual/aural information. His drumming...with that cherubic face, it's bizarrely sweet. Innocent. Not thundering grohl monkey-arms clubbing. It's so weird.

There must be a term--from liberation theology or something--for the stage that society perceives/wants to keep whatever persecuted groups in, until an understanding of their worth/need for retribution becomes large-scale accepted. The early/opening/learning/beginning stage that goes on too long. That is...I'm glad Carson whatshisname from Queer I is doing a show empowering fatties, but will we ever in my lifetime get to a point where WE'RE NOT STARTING FROM SCRATCH? Where it's not brand-new all the time? Where people don't consantly have to be convinced of its necessity (fat acceptance) over and over? They're not, btw, we're not even really that far in this world. But still. Fuck. Do I have to be happy every time a celebrity comes out with clothing for the (oh so superbig) size 14s in this world?

Best thing about Fabulous Baker Boys (check it out): Beau Bridges. He's not moody and doesn't push his hair out of his face in that incredibly sexy way that Jeff B does, but I am convinced that his performance is actually the most daring and galvanizing in that film. And underrated, 'cause he's the schlumph. Oh, he's good, though.

On HGTV they were featuring a guy's house who was a major arts & crafts collector; EVERY piece was a Stickley or somebody. Everything. It was beautiful, as were all the beautifully framed pieces of art, but way too much on a room-by-room basis. Too much psychic pressure, too much unrelenting dark wood. It actually seemed fragile, not sturdy, in such concentrated amounts. The hilarious part? In one uncommented-upon segment, the owner's cat crossed the room stinkeye-ing the camera. Heh. Totally hilarious. Begging...pleading...the question: how the hell do these things coexist? My cats would turn a living room-full of Stickley furniture into toothpicks in about a week. Tear it up in a day. No way that cat wasn't declawed. Wearing a buzzy color around its neck. Something.