George Bush hates cheese, French people

Foodies and extravagants across America best stock up on their delicacies, fast. George Bush, in one of his last acts as President, raised tariffs on such imported fine goods as chocolate, truffles, foie gras (what Washington trade bureaucrats call "fatty livers of ducks and geese," says the Washington Post).

The biggest hit came on Roquefort cheese--the infamously stinky marbled and crumbly blue cheese crafted and cultivated in the 600-person town of Roquefort, France. Bush imposed a 300% tarriff on the cheese, for reasons not many seem to understand. The act not only will make Roquefort too expensive for most (me) to be able to enjoy, it was a major statement (if symbolic) to France as a whole. The 600-person town of Roquefort, which sustains itself almost wholly on the production of this cheese, is expected to feel the harshest effects of this decision.

These tariffs go into effect in March, and will likely raise prices significantly on these imported fine foods.

As the Economist's Free Exchange blog reports:

Yes, while Europeans will be relishing delicious bleu cheese, Americans can eat hormone-injected beef with a side of stale freedom fries.

Below you'll find my premature homage to the soon-to-be extinguished odor of this sublime piece of bovine mastery: The Christmas dinner I prepared this year. Three quarters of the dishes featured Roquefort in some way. Maybe it was a premonition?

[Brussels sprouts with Roquefort, glazed pecans and a balsalmic reduction.]

[L: Mixed greens with candied walnuts, blood oranges and pomegranates.
R: Butternut squash/apple soup with Roquefort garnish.]


[Oh, a time of such innocent indulgence.]

Steamed Veggies

"Vegetarians have better sex," reads the tagline for PETA's commercial that was recently rejected for air during the Super Bowl by NBC.

Here's what the Washington Post has to say. Lisa de Moraes makes it seem the whole thing was an overblown stunt to avoid paying the exorbitant Super Bowl TV ad spot fees (get your commercial banned, get a whole bunch of press about it, and people will youtube the shit out of it). First naked women on billboards, now sexy vegetables? PETA! Get ahold of yourself.

See for yourself. I, for one, think they could have gone way further with this one. The carrot scene in Fast Times at Ridgemont High, anyone?

INAUGURATION POMP REPORT - Obamatown!

Georgetown, Monday, January 19, 2009.

On Monday, my options were Miley Cyrus or figure out your own damn Inauguration Pomp for the day. I decided to take advantage of the absence of programming and head over to the Manifest Hope: DC gallery on 33rd and M in Georgetown to see Shepard Fairey's big and famous Obama painting.

The walk over the bridge to Geor--ahem, if I may--Obamatown was cold and blustery, my lips were chapped, my toes aching and senseless. I was about to say "This sucks, I'm going in a Starbucks where it's warm," until...

TOM HANKS!

Standing all casual and jolly cheeked on the corner of 31st and M, wearing jeans, a long wool coat and these sweet Wayfarers, stopping politely to take a picture with an excited fan. And so yes, his movie star smile warmed me up, and I continued on my trek.

On the way to the gallery, I took in other such Inauguration Pomp sights as:

A Logan Tavern too crowded with yuppietypes to eat lunch in. : (

More yogis for Obama! (Ombama. That's a good one.)


A motorcade! Obama?


An absurd line outside another stupid cupcake place. Inauguration Pompsters love cupcakes. Especially if the cupcakes are featured on the Today show.

INAUGURATION POMP REPORT - Sunday, January 18, 2009

Carol King has great legs, soul (Bono needs to cool it)

There is a modest celebration presently happening in the District. My family and I have been fortunate enough to be able to attend some events. Below is an update:

At this morning's Gospel breakfast, Congressman John Lewis (GA) said that forty years ago, when he was lying bloody and unconscious in the street after the march from Selma to Montgomery, if you had told him that in less than 48 hours a black man would be sworn in as president of the United States, he would have said, you crazy.

The food was delicious at this Gospel Breakfast, and so were the tunes--smooth gospel from the Dartmouth College gospel choir (we all thought it was pretty funny a sound like that could come out of New England), Yolanda Adams and Bebe Winans layin' it down, liftin' it up...and Carol King--the woman, besides being one of the best and most prolific songwriters of arguably the best and most prolific generation of songwriters--has damn fine legs. I took pictures, I will share soon.

Our bellies filled with soul food (spiritual and animal--vegetable, in my case), we (hundreds of thousands of us) huddled together in the cold, waiting for the 2:30 start time of the "We are One" concert at the Lincoln Memorial.

Bruce's opening version of "The Rising" with a red robed gospel choir gave me chills--Bruce doesn't usually do this to me.

Mary J. Blige killed a solo version of "Lean on Me." With Bruce, she helped set a perfectly reverent, yet emotional tone for what would be a (on the whole) respectful and humble display of talent and enthusiasm.

At first I thought the choice to follow up a poignant anecdote of Eleanor Roosevelt's fight to allow African-American Marian Anderson to sing "My Country 'Tis of Thee" in 1939 with Josh Grobin was lame, and kind of inappropriate. And though I still hold that Grobin is indeed lame, the fact that he was backed by the Gay Men's Chorus of Washington, DC was a move that befitted the shout out to the progressiveness of what it meant to have Anderson sing.

Herbie Hancock joined Sheryl Crow and Will.i.am for a delightful performance of Bob Marley's "One Love" -- Herbie groovin his Fender Rhodes on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, for the president-elect of the United States! Awesome.

Stevie, as Stevie would, got Obama up out of his seat and dancing. Stevie!

Obama's speech was, I must say, a bit of a downer...but I plan to reserve all my judgement in the hope that he's saving all his best, historically significant "Yes We Can" bits for Tuesday. I want all the MLK anomalies and phoenix stories you can throw at me, Bama. I want to cry.

I have had it up to here with stupid Bono. He took up too much time at this concert, he talked too much when he was supposed to be singing, and he did annoying rockstar things with the cameras. I mean, he sat down in the middle of a song. Take your stupid sunglasses off, BON-O and for the love of God, stay out of our newspapers.

I did secretly hope that Beyonce would bust out the leotard and robot glove for a "Single Ladies" finale, but settled for "America the Beautiful."

Sasha Obama is the most adorable little girl in the world.

More pictures will follow in the near future, I hope.

Rave On

The most recent installment of NPR's "Exclusive First Listen" series: M. Ward and his album "Hold Time."

He does a sweet cover of "Rave On," the song made famous by Buddy Holly.

Rave on, this crazy feelin'
I know it's got me reelin'
When you say 'I love you'
I say 'Rave on.'

I like it.

Bird Man

Andrew Bird's as yet unreleased album can be heard in its entirety on NPR's All Songs Considered website. The album is titled "Noble Beast" and drops (as they say) on January 20. But you can listen to it right now!



I first heard Andrew Bird in 2001, when, hanging out at the record store like the slick 15-year old I was, someone played the song "Two Way Action" from the album The Swimming Hour on the speakers. I asked the girl working the cash register who it was, she told me and I bought the album. This is the first time I remember doing that.

Andrew Bird's music is elegant, melodic, and old-timey. He uses big, beautiful words like "tenuousness," and "Scythian" and they manage to fit together in fluid precision in much the way his intricate musical arrangements do. And I think he makes the violin look sexy.

Here is a wonderful video from super producer Nigel Godrich's sweet website, From the Basement:

Two Thousand and Dine

And so, herewith I announce my return to blogdom, with a seasonal and delicious recipe fit for a New Year filled with joy and aspiration, empty of resolutions. (In other words: this don't mean my New Year's resolution is to "blog more." I take it as it comes, there are no rules).

The recipe spawned off last year's attempt at this bnutsqsh ravioli, when I ran out of fresh pasta and made gnocchi with the rest of the filling. That's where the sage came from--the nuts came from an unforgettable Christmas Eve meal in Italy of pumpkin ravioli in a creamy walnut sauce, and the Gruyere came from somewhere deep inside my heart, I love it that much. I don't dig cream or butter (I do, however, dig cheese), so it's the virginiest of olive oils, all the way.

[There I am, right of center, caddy corner to the Maker's Mark]

RESOLUTIONLESS BNUTSQSH BALLS, Or Butternut Squash gnocchi with sage, toasted walnuts, and Gruyere

1) Butternut squash (1--halved, cooked, scraped, mashed)
2) Flour (a bunch)
3) Olive Oil (enough)
4) Sage (1 tsp? - fresh, minced, and then about 2 tbsp scattered whole leaves)
5) Onion (1-chopped)
6) Walnuts (handfuls, the more the nuttier)
7) Gruyere cheese (the stankier the better, enough to cover gnocchi with dank cheesey layer)
8) Egg (1, beated)
9) Salt (filler ingredient, to taste)


Bake butternut squash in the oven until cooked thoroughly (about 40 minutes? an hour? Long enough for a sufficient pre-new years nap).

While the bnutsqsh is baking, heat a largeish circle of olive oil in frying pan, and add onion. Sautee onion until translucent, add sage leaves, relish aroma. Set aside, nap.

Remove baked bnutsh, and once cool enough to handle, scoop out contents into large bowl. Add onion/sage mixture, egg, salt and a good mess of flour. Mash with hands, adding flour until the mash reaches doughy consistancy.

Sous chef: While chef is mashing, sautee walnuts in a pan (use the same pan the onions were cooked in, don't rinse) with olive oil and whole sage leaves. Sautee until nuts become golden brown and crunchy.

Form bnutsqsh mixture into evenly sized balls, roll in a plate of flour to coat.

Bring a large pot of water to boil (adding salt, duh). Add bnutsqsh balls. They are cooked when they rise to the top. Remove with a slotted spoon, and place in pan with walnuts, simmering, stirring until coated.

Spread contents of pan on an oiled cookie sheet, and sprinkle with shredded cheese. Bake until cheese melts.

Serve with champagne. No resolutions necessary.