I've decided to diversify my hobbies and take up an activity besides binge eating because I enjoy a good challenge and my e-Harmony profile could use some sprucing up. Hot men aren't very responsive to chicks whose interests are limited to "accosting Del Taco employees for day old's and collecting free shit on Craigslist."
After many hours of deep reflection, I decided that BIKING would be the most reasonable hobby because San Francisco is known for its biker-friendly terrain and tame traffic conditions. With over 50 different hills, a plethora of narrow, one-way streets, and a dense population of Asian drivers, San Francisco is the ideal setting for novice bikers, especially those who are unfamiliar with exercise. I have a mountain bike, which has been working for me just fine, but I am in the market for something a little bit sleeker, a candy paint job and a touch of class. Here are some of the bikes that I've been looking at:
Thought this low-rider would be my speed because I like its proximity to the ground and the fact that it can accommodate my subwoofers. Although it has a tremendous amount of swag, its gaudiness is kinda suspect and lacks the stealth that I will need in case I need to make a fast getaway.
If this hipster-limbed Charlie Chaplin motherfucker can face plant on this, this shit will probably crumble into a rusty oblivion the minute my fatass even smiles at it.
Forget chemical warfare, these bikes are proof that Japanese modern artillery weapons are something that the U.S. should be concerned about. They're even recruiting former boyband members to join their militia, which causes both panic and excitement in my nether-regions. I don't want the bikes as much as I want them.
This is just sick. I am not worthy of resting my loins atop this bad boy but I just wanted to pay homage to its unparalleled glory and sex appeal. Heaven only knows how many babies were conceived atop its buttery surface.
Since I am a Bay bitch at heart, I decided to go with the almighty Oakland-originated Scraper Bike. This sort of bike doesn't even require me to buy a new bike, just some tin foil and scotch tape.
According to Urban Dictionary, a scraper bike is defined as: "A new trend that is a part of the San Francisco Bay Area Hyphy Movement in which people ride their tricked out bikes and go stupid, dumb, retarded while on their bikes. Generally, the bikes have nice designs, such as duo-tone paint jobs, and rims or spinners. The term was coined by the rap group Trunk Boiz of Oakland, California."
So here's my recipe for a Homemade Scraper Bike:
- A bike - Aluminum foil - Shiny wrapping paper - Scotch tape - Streamers
First, cover the spokes in aluminum foil. You can get creative with the design, I just went with a few triangles. Next, cover the handlebars in aluminum foil. For a candy paint effect, tape up the frame with shiny wrapping paper in sections. Add streamers or whatever sort of adornment or trinket you would like to add.
This is White Fury, I got her for my 11th birthday and we have been reeking havoc on the streets of the Bay Area for the past 12 years. I love her to death but that paint job is just way too early 90's for me and I'm not feelin that vintage shit so I needed to pimp this piece out.
Still tippin' on two 4's, wrapped in 44's, etc.
ALL CHROME EVERYTHING. Its clean, right???
Candy Paint.. Peanut Butter.. them gold things got me tight for the summer..
BLAP MOTHAFUCKA! Shit went from Steve Urkel to Stefan in under 5 minutes. If anyone has any suggestions as to how I can mount my subwoofers onto this beauty, it would be greatly appreciated.
I'm gonna throw in some pictures of some cupcakes because I realize this is a food blog and I can't be writing about bikes like they're edible even though that candy paint job got a few licks.
Kara's Cupcakes in the Marina are the SHIT. Holler at that chocolate and s'more one time and you will inseminate yourself with some of the finest cakes in the Bay.
When I was seven years old, I watched waaaaaay too much MTV Jams and my favorite song on the planet was "Bump N' Grind" by R. Kelly. I spent the better part of 1993 profusely gyrating like a sexually frustrated midget to this song and so naturally, I begged my mother for his album entitled, "12 Play." Needless to say, this horrified my Catholic mother to no end and so she immediately scheduled a hysterectomy for herself and her perverted child (me). And just like that, I was spayed--like a cat.
Just kidding...my mother didn't spay me in the name of R. Kelly.
But it is true that neither of my parents would buy this album for me because they were sensible people, but I admit that it only made me a bigger fan of R. Kelly. That was short lived because several years later, we all found out that he was the one lurking around America's playgrounds handing out packets of Gushers and asking toddlers if they wanted to play "Candyland" in his white van. In other words, he scared the shit out of me. I've actually been legitimately afraid of him until the other day when my friend showed me the following music video:
I am convinced that this is the single most sensational thing that I have ever seen. If you didn't watch it, you are a moron and you should GET OUT OF HERE. I don't think it gets any better than when he says, "And when you need a break, I'll let you up, I'll let you breathe, wash your face, get something to eat, and then come back to the bedroom." That's likely to be the most romantic song lyric of all time. Most people would probably lay low and avoid singing about sex after being publicly identified as a sexual deviant, but no...not R. Kelly. Although he is criminally insane and I know that it is unethical to support such a derelict weirdo, I have to admit that there is a level of genius that only him and Mike Tyson possess and they each hold a piece of my heart.
Eating this cookie really enhanced the experience 1000%.
On that magical evening, my friends and I also made BACON MAC AND CHEESE CUPCAKES.
We just used Paula Deen's recipe for mac & cheese (which calls for the use of canned Cheddar soup) and added bacon to it. The only reason they are cupcakes is because we baked them in a muffin tray. We looked really cute buying cans of Cheddar soup and fist fighting eachother at the Redbox machine on a Friday night.
My, what a gorgeous rack. My homie Steph's little brother, Jon made these gorgeously mind-blowing ribs.
I ended up passing out in a massage chair/death trap that night. I woke up once, got laughed at by my friends, and was told that I looked like a famous musical sensation. They said "Little Richard", but I heard "Beyonce".
I have been on an insane cooking hype lately because I have discovered that I am a budding Auguste Escoffier in the kitchen. Okay, that was kind of a stretch, I am sure he is convulsing in his grave somewhere and chef's all around the world are frantically searching for my address so that they can shit on my lawn. As there is already enough shit on my lawn, I will retract that statement and admit that when I cook, I have the grace of an armless Sandra Lee on quaaludes. For those of you who don't know who Sandra Lee is, she is the crazy bitch on the Food Network that made this monstrosity:
' SMH x100000000000000000000000000
If you know me at all, you know that I have an affinity for Ranch dressing and chicken wings. I don't know if I eat chicken wings for the Ranch or if I eat the Ranch for the wings. What I do know is, I am a genius for wanting to make a hybrid of the two by making RANCH CHICKEN WINGS. This is the recipe I stole from this website:
* Cut chicken wings into three sections; discard wing tips. Place flour in a large resealable plastic bag; add chicken wings, a few at a time, and shake to coat. * In an electric skillet or deep-fat fryer, heat oil to 375°. Fry chicken wings, a few at a time, for 8 minutes or until golden brown and crispy and juices run clear, turning occasionally. Drain on paper towels. * In a large resealable plastic bag, combine the dressing mix, garlic, salt and pepper; add chicken wings, a few at a time, and shake to coat. Place chicken in a greased 15-in. x 10-in. x 1-in. baking pan. Sprinkle with remaining salad dressing mixture. Bake, uncovered, at 350° for 8-10 minutes or until coating is set. Yield: 1 dozen.
Coated these shits in flour.
Fried them without causing injury to myself or anyone around me which was shocking/delightful.
Two envelopes of inexpensive powdered sex.
Sprinkled the crack atop the fried goodness and popped it in the oven.
And just like that, I was richer than the richest, CERTIFIED GETTIN IT.
This dish caused no one any harm and it was relatively easy to make. But don't get too impressed because the next meal was pretty lethal. I invited my friends over because I was going to cook dinner and rent movies so that we could have a normal, non-bizarre weekend for a change. I decided to go the Italian route and make spinach-stuffed Portobello mushrooms, some kind of creamy pancetta pasta, and a Caprese salad.
The spinach-stuffed Portobello mushroom. Gutted and grilled the portobellos. Sauteed garlic, onions, salt, pepper, and chopped pancetta. Added a little bit of cream and let it simmer, then I added the spinach. Put the spinach mixture in the shrooms, topped it with shaved parmesan cheese and bread crumbs. Drizzied it with olive oil and popped it in the oven for like 10 minutes at 325 degrees. I pulled this recipe from between my anus and rectum, so I'm not sure exactly how it ended up being so delicious.
The pasta was easy. Sauteed more garlic and onions in olive oil, added the pancetta and fried it. Put in some cream, milk, parmesan cheese, and tomato sauce and let it simmer. Added some egg noodles and just waited til the noodles were cooked. I saw Giada do this with egg noodles so I figured I could do it too. Added some fresh chopped basil and tomatoes to it and put it in a large ceramic bowl with cat cartoons on it. BLAP!
Way too easy. Just chopped up tomatoes, a slice of fresh mozzarella, stacked em, topped them with basil leaves and drizzied them with balsamic vinegar and olive oil. We made sexy time.
As you might have noticed, I used a shit ton of CHEESE in everything. This made everything really tasty and crackin' BUT what I failed to realize was that putting that much dairy in one meal will result in violent flatulence. Thus, I invited my friends over and ended up giving them a case of extreme BUTT TRUMPET. Very cute.
Lastly, I cooked a meal that didn't disturb any bowels BUT my friends almost died of smoke inhalation. I invited them over for Korean-style chicken wings, my interpretation of cole slaw, gzoya, and a strawberry trifle-esque cake. They reluctantly showed up. Long story short, I overheated the oil by 1000 degrees, dropped the chicken in, it turned black, a thicket of smoke engulfed my house, and everyone was on the lawn, coughing and bleeding. For some reason, my friends went back in and helped me cook the rest of the meal. What sweet, desperate people they are.
I am a huge fan of Kyo-Chon, which is a Korean fried chicken place in Los Angeles and you can learn more about that obsession by checking out this review I did of it. I found the following recipe on a blog that I don't remember and can't find anymore. The blog was presumably written by Koreans or people who like Korean fried chicken (which could be ANYONE). Whatever, hats off to you whoever you are because this shit cracked.
Kyo-chon Fried Chicken
INGREDIENTS
* 1 Chicken, cut up * 1/4 c. Starch * 1/4 c. Flour * 1 Tbsp. Garlic Powder * 2 cloves Garlic, crushed * 2 tsp. Sugar * 1 tsp. Ginger Powder * 1/2 tsp. Black Pepper * 1 tsp. Salt * 1 tsp. Baking Soda * Water (enough to make a thick batter) * Oil, for frying
1. Rinse and dry the chicken.
2. Combine all the dry ingredients. Add water a little at a time until it becomes a thick batter, like pancake batter.
3. Heat the oil to 350 degrees F.
4. Dip the chicken pieces, one at a time, in the batter. Let the excess drip off and fry them in the oil for around five minutes. Don’t overcrowd. Fry just a few at a time.
5. Drain and serve immediately
Alright so I changed it a little bit cause it lacked a little bit of the sweetness that the Kyo-Chon wangs have so I lightly some sprinkled sugar on the wings after I fried em and popped them in the oven for a bit. After that, it came out pretty delicious. My friend Erika loved them and she used to be the one to go to Kyo-Chon with me all the time. Then again, she was drunk so her opinion halfway doesn't count because intoxication = a lack of discrimination toward any sort of food.
Kyo-Chon serves a slaw of cabbage, mayo, and ketchup which is a nice gesture but lightweight gross. I pimped it out by using green and red cabbage, avocado, and corn then using a dressing made of mayo, chili powder, lemon juice, salt, and a little bit of sugar. It was like a hybrid between an elote and a cole slaw with avocado.
I put Jizzo in charge of bringing Ling Ling's and she delivered. I killed them by trying to fry them while still frozen and it resulted in SMOKE INHALATION ROUND 2.
Strawberries were 3 packs for $5.00 at the store so I made this. Layered store bought angel cake between a mixture of marscapone, cream, sugar, vanilla, strawberry puree, and chopped strawberries. Very Sandra Lee.
I guess I got strawberry puree on my shirt while making the cake and so it looks like Borat's eyeball exploded. Sexy time, indeed.
I've learned that there are scientific consequences involved when cooking and if you are not careful, you could potentially kill your guests. Fortunately, my homies are desperate for free meals and have resilient lungs.
*After reading this post over, I am really confused as to why I thought I would be qualified to write a food blog. Two years into this and I'm even more unqualified than the day I started.
I am a shitty blog updater because I am the type of blogger that doesn't actually own my own computer. As pathetic as it is, I have been using my younger brothers computer in exchange for packages of Top Ramen. Unfortunately, in addition to being small and defenseless, he never got the hang of using opposable thumbs and so long story short, he broke his computer screen. Thus, I have become computerless, which has completely obliterated my social life and I have been forced to resort to a life of crime. Right now, I am actually blogging from a payphone in Tijuana that happens to be located inside of a Mexican jail.
ANYWAYS...my colleagues Linzy and T(r)ina and I had some grown woman discussions that we needed to take care of the other night so we decided to hold a bidness dinner. As boss ladies, we needed to choose the proper venue because we know how important it is to throw around business jargon in our pant suits over a fine meal. After several days of intense contemplation, diligent Yelping, and non-stop mud wrestling, we settled on Red Lobster because for one, I had never been and two, I am not one to turn down cheddar biscuits...NOT NEVER.
Since there are ZERO Red Lobster locations in San Francisco, we had to travel 69 miles beyond city limits to a quaint little town called San Bruno. Sometimes it's nice to get out of the city and mingle with the laid back country folk. Apparently, Red Lobster is the Hollywood Boulevard of San Bruno because the place was packed, there was a 30 minute wait, and a topsy-tailed door Nazi was manning the entrance, telling people to talk to the hand. The wait turned out to be okay because as economically efficient women, we came prepared with a 12 pack and large purses.
Although ugly, tote bags are convenient for storing most varieties of liquor. I once had a friend who owned a tote bag so large that it fit an entire full-sized jug of Carlo Rossi. They are also inconspicuous because they are popular with the elderly and people who shop at Whole Foods.
Quietly retreated to the restroom to change eachothers diapers and shotgun some beers. This practice is customary at most restaurants located west of the Mississippi and east of Las Vegas.
After being led to our luxuriously spacious VIP booth in the Champagne Room, we were lovingly showered with baskets of these cheesy golden delights. I was truly blown away by the savory tenderness better known as the Cheddar Bay biscuits. My palate concluded that they are made up of one part Bisquick, two parts grade double-A refined Connecticut Velveeta and three parts New England butt chowder.
We all ordered the platter that came with lobster, a shrimp skewer, and shrimp scampi. The platters were garnished with a stainless steel vat of clarified "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter."
The lobster. It was surprisingly non-toxic and I was able to retain control of my bowel movement. So, we're friends :)
Me and the shrimp scampi became more than friends. I get along with most things that are sitting in a bed of butter and encrusted with cheese.
Red Lobster is a fine establishment and is an ideal place to conduct business meetings, birthday parties, surgical consultations, YOU NAME IT. I was so pleased that I even wrote Red Lobster an e-mail with a few compliments and suggestions. It went like so:
I visited one of your restaurants for the first time yesterday and I was completely blown away by the quality of your Cheddar Bay biscuits. Although, I found your seafood and other offerings to be satisfactory, I felt as though the biscuits were the stand-out hit of the entire meal.
Being that your restaurant has already established a devoted following and assuming that your business is open to maintaining and expanding that following, it would be beneficial for you and your patrons to consider opening an express window. I have spoken to a number of people about this idea and they agreed that they would frequent your restaurant more often if there was an express window. Many people simply do not have the time to enjoy the full dining experience at your restaurants but would love to pick up several dozen of your biscuits and shrimp on their way home from work. It would be a quick, convenient option for your busier patrons. Perhaps even implementing an online ordering system, which would increase the efficiency and accuracy of the ordering process.
Please take my suggestion into consideration and feel free to contact me if you have any further questions or simply seek my expert opinion.
Thank you.
I signed it as "Boo Thang." I am very suave and am a connoisseur when it comes to writing love letters. They promptly responded with this:
Dear Ms. Thang,
Thank you for taking the time to contact us. It is always a pleasure to hear from our guests.
We appreciate your suggestions and have forwarded your comments to the right departments for consideration.
Again, thank you for taking the time to share your comments. Please do not hesitate to contact us, if we may be of further assistance.
Sincerely,
Russell Senior Guest Relations Representative
Russell and I have been online dating ever since. This is a picture of our children:
