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Playing with food | Manolo's Food Blog - Part 5
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Happy Wok Like Shatner Day!

William Shatner would like you to ease up on the Scotch Bonnets

William Shatner would like you to ease up on the Scotch Bonnets

Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great pleasure as a Canadian and sophisticated humanoid life form to announce that today is an historic day.

Today, my friends, is Talk … Like … William … Shatner … Day.

It’s also his 80th Birthday, so mazel tov, Bill!

In the spirit of Shatnerianism, we present this ad for William Shatner’s Frying Saucer, a product somewhat less commercially successful than the George Foreman grill, despite the great advantage of being entirely imaginary.

Since we’re on a Shatnerian, foodie roll (a Montreal smoked meat sandwich roll?) here is Henry Rollins’ two-part tribute to the World’s Greatest Canadian and, in particular, his amazing ability to inspire scallop fishermen to greater heights (depths?) of awesomenosity in the pursuit of a Shatner-worthy seafood platter.

“He’s not like us. He’s Canadian.”

Which reminds me of one of the great trivia stories of celebritydom. When young Bill told his stuffy Mount Royal parents about his plan to throw away his proper, preppy upbringing and become nothing more than a meat puppet, his father threw him out without a cent, in fine Dickensian tradition. So William Shatner spent a great portion of his early years subsisting on 25 cent servings of fruit salad at Kresge’s Department Store.

Will It Saber: Part 6 and 6b

Oh, what the hell. Make it a double.

Oh, what the hell. Make it a double.

I’m in a celebratory mood lately, so I hereby declare that it’s time to catch up with our festive old pal and email buddy, and the sworn enemy of Champagne bottles everywhere, Matt Stache. We are reliably informed that this daredevil intends to make an assault on the world record for most Champagne bottles sabered in one minute, and we wish him well and we wish, further, to be on hand because yeah, that stuff doesn’t keep worth beans.

In any case, here he is attempting his sabrage with, sequentially, a cocktail glass and a god damned scythe.

Martini vs Champagne:

The Booze Reaper

Dessert of the Year: Paris Hilton’s Birthday Cake

Happy Birthday Paris Hilton. You don't look a day over 40.

Happy Birthday Paris Hilton. You don't look a day over 40.

A sincere Happy 56th birthday to Paris Hilton, the Manolosphere’s favorite celebutard. We saw the pictures from your party (and we wondered, for a moment, if when someone told you to “blow” the candles, awkward hijinks ensued) and it looks like a great time was had by all.

Especially the guy who crashed your party and stole your birthday cake.

I woke up this morning with a $2000 birthday cake in my living room.

It’s big.

It’s red.

It says “Paris”.

And its fucking delicious.

24 hours ago I got a call from my well-connected buddy Kevin. “Dude, I’m crashing Paris Hilton’s birthday tonight. Pretty sure I can get you in,” he says. “Pretty sure you can’t,” I say. “Pretty sure I will,” he says.

90 minutes later we’re strolling down a red carpet like we belong there…

This is as delightful a tale of dessert-based Schadenfreude as the interwebs possess! Yes, just like Kim Kardashian’s $1million birthday cake, this relatively low-rent stunner was just going to be used for decoration and then thrown out. Naturally, in an economic climate as dire as ours, this offended our young adventurer, and he took the only course of action which an ethical partycrasher could, liberating the tasty treat in the name of The People.

and then posting the whole thing to Facebook, god love him.

Even in my sub-functional state, I realize this is going to be a delicate mission. There are still at least 100 people in the building, 20% of whom are employed to be looking for idiots like me.

Parading a confection the size of a small firetruck through the main hall is going to turn a head or two…

I take my cue and make a bullet for cake city.

In one fluid motion, I sidestep a confused waiter, seize the prize, and about face to the door.

I pass the security chief again on the way out.

I nod purposefully… he nods in return.

40 seconds later I’m in the front seat of a Nissan Maxima with 70 lbs. of awesome in my lap.

Success.

As the sun rises, I crash hard. In the morning, I’ll awake to an interesting surprise in the den.

It’s red. It’s delicious. And I don’t know WTF I’m going to do with it.

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Gino D’Acampo, the truly naked chef

Oh my. Oh my goodness. My, my, my, my, my.

Hunky Italian chef Gino D’Acampo is a big man, and a total hambone. When he loses a bet, he doesn’t shrivel up, he antes up. Here he goes Jamie Oliver one better by becoming a truly Naked Chef, and never mind the risks to life, limb, and little buddy.

From TheDailyWhat:

Long story short, Italian chef Gino D’Acampo made a promise to viewers of ITV’s This Morning that, should the show win a National Television Award, he would return to cook sans clothes. Well, they won, and he did.

That takes sfere, and, as you can see, Gino is a man who knows where to draw the line, who’s not as likely to run something up the flagpole and see who salutes as he is to carry his cowl where the sun don’t shine. Of the three of them on-camera (and the vast, multitudinous horde swarming around off-camera) only one person keeps his cool when the heat is on and the dial is turned up to 12. He barely cracks a smile even as his boneheaded cohosts pull boner after boner during this simple segment on preparing gammon and mushy peas.

Yes, Gino D’Acampo is the obvious weiner.

Complete Fruitcakes!

fruitcake

You'd have to be nutty as a fruitcake to eat a sentient dessert


Or incomplete fruitcakes as the case may be. Me, personally? I love the stuff, but I realize I am alone.

So, so very alone.

Are you alone and different from me and stuck with a mouldering or pickled lump of brownish carbs, fats, and assorted undigestables, covered in some unnamed and unnameable sticky substance, the whole Shoggoth-like agglomeration wrapped in hideously toxic-looking red or green “festive” plastic?

What you have there, my friend, is a fruitcake. And if you still have one lying around, and it’s not one you’re going to be feeding and watering (with booze, please, and none of your foofy white zin either) and then devouring once it’s achieved that peak of perfect pickleosity, then I’m assuming it’s not #1 on your favorite foods list.

But there is hope.

You don’t have to consume it at all! The ingenious folks in Manitou Springs, Colorado have found a way to turn what’s basically a brick made of calories and cholesterol into an extreme sport. This, my friends, is true genius: co-opting a seasonal calorie source and transforming it, simply by sheer can-do-ism, into an athletic activity.

Behold the annual Manitou Springs Fruitcake Toss.

Marie Antoinette said, “Let them eat cake.” In Manitou Springs the local Chamber of Commerce encourages people to throw cake. Each January the community hosts its Great Fruitcake Toss, the strangely compelling spectacle in which participants fling fruitcakes through the air, competing in events that emphasize distance, accuracy, and showmanship. While the contest does nothing to improve the reputation of the much-maligned fruitcake, it has succeeded in attracting media attention to a town best known for its natural mineral springs and proximity to Pikes Peak.

Behold as well, the Manitou Springs Fruitcake Launch (trebuchets, what looks like a potato gun, and a crossbow are among the launchers). Behold, finally, the Manitou Springs Fruitcake CATCH. And behold, lastly, well, I won’t spoil the surprise. But it combines two of the most disliked physical objects of our time and only one of those is fruitcake.

Why Gnott?

It explodes alrighty, and not just with flavour

It explodes alrighty, and not just with flavour

In today’s lesson, Steve from Webrestaurantstore will demonstrate why we shouldn’t deep-fry gnocchi and, for bonus points, why our solution to somethingdeep-fried spitting at us should not be to turn up the heat. Oh, you may think you know this stuff already, but do put in the time to watch this video, at least up to the 1:45 mark. You won’t regret it.

via MisterHippity

In related news, this civilian was actually successful in his attempt, but then he had the good sense to a) use cooked gnocchi as his substrate and b) batter the gnocchi first, thus rendering its exterior significantly freer of H20. Still, speaking for myself I’d have to say that battered, deep-fried potato dumplings are not exactly something that makes my mouth water, and I’m not even on a low-carb diet. We have starch, wrapped in starch, deep-fried. Please stop the madness.

Will It Saber? with your host, Matt Stache

Successful First-Time Saberer at the Sumac Ridge Sabering at Vancouver Police Museum by Tris Hussey

Successful First-Time Saberer at the Sumac Ridge Sabering at Vancouver Police Museum by Tris Hussey


Oh, I’m in love. Sure, every girl thrills to the sight of a dapper gent in close proximity to a bottle of Champagne (with which he will presumably require assistance) but when you add a soupçon of danger in the form of bladed weapons, well, a girl could truly lose her head, particularly after the second bottle, and most particularly if she stands too close.

Allow me to present the very dapper Mister Matt Stache, your genteel host of the un-missable YouTube series “Will It Saber?” Despite slight imperfections in technique (I’m sorry, but the muselet must go avant de sabrage) his sheer audacity carries the day. Let’s take a look at Will It Saber #1: the Saber for an example, shall we?

Highly inspiring. Sabering, in fact, can be done with virtually any implement that has a narrow edge and can be moved with rapidity down the neck of a Champagne bottle. I once attended a sabering workshop in an old morgue which used quite a variety of sabering instruments: it’s the combination of momentum and narrow pressure point that does the trick. Presumably, you could saber Champagne with the front of a snow plough, if you could move it fast enough.

Vancouver Police Museum morgue by John Biehler

Vancouver Police Museum morgue by John Biehler

Yes, that really sets the mood. Trust me, you need a drink if you’re in there after dark.

From TinyBites.ca:

Hold the sword with your dominant hand with the edge at a ~20 degree angle to the curve of the bottle neck.
Hold the bottle with your other hand, arm straight out and as far away from your body as possible, with the cork end pointed towards the part of the room that can handle the landing of such a projectile.
Slide the blade along the bottle starting from the middle until you reach the cork, applying the same smooth pressure and velocity throughout the motion. Practice the movement a few times until you get the feel of it, if that helps.
Once the bottle is opened, do not touch the top of the bottle, where the glass is razor sharp from the act of sabering.
If you do not have a sword available, most heavy objects with a similar edge will do. He mentioned a machete…I don’t know about you, but I have neither machete nor sword lying around at home. Someone mentioned that you could do it with a butter knife but McWatters was vigorously shaking his head at us upon hearing that suggestion.

Here, in #3 in the series, Matt Stach sabers a bottle of Champagne with a brake rotor from a 2002 Mazda Protege 5.

Yes, really.

via Cityrag

Anyone got this man’s phone number? He’s JUST the fellow for me.

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