Author: Justin

The great gas/electric stove debate

Following along the culinary lines of yesterday’s show-and-tell where I revealed the amazing blowfish hand axe, here’s an interesting link about common kitchen myths.
Some of the myths themselves are amusing: Are there really so many people that believe cold water (or previously boiled water) boils faster than warm water?
On the other hand, nobody will ever convince me that electric ranges are better than gas, even with the 240 volt models overseas… I mean really, is “simmering” even a worthy point of contention? It’s not exactly something that people who like cooking even think about, in my mind. In fact, I would theoretically worry more about simmering on an electric range because of the heat retention of the heating elements/surface for the first few moments.
As far as an electric range being faster for boiling a large pot of water, wow. I concede the honor.
And as for escaping heat and energy efficiency, I consider this to be the tradeoff for being able to cook better-tasting food, which is the standard by which nearly all cooking comparisons should be based on anyway; I have never seen BTU ratings specified in a recipe.
One other nit I must pick for Queen (and not my) Country:
You can heat a cup of water in the microwave. You can put a teabag in it. However, the average Joe would be surprised to find out that the result is actually not a cup of tea. “Why,” you ask: It’s an Oreo “biscuit” thing, baby.

My new pride and joy

This is my new fugu knife… which may sound confusing because I have zero intention of ever preparing puffers at home and never had an “old” one, but as you can see, is an apt description nonetheless. I did not need to sharpen it before use because it was more than razor sharp out of the box – very impressive!. The curved blade has a long sweet spot and makes both chopping vegetables and deboning fowl very easy.

The balance is just about right for chopping, but I may upgrade the handle with moulded Pachmayr grips and uranium counterweights for proper dicing action. Also, after I add a golden chrysanthemum seal and a long tang that supports my finger-forward fighting style, this should prove to be an excellent weapon of mass destruction.

Yes, this is my idea of a political blog post.

/out

Osaka Taxi

Just remembered this from Sunday: Four of us got in a cab and headed toward the Hankyu department store to grab a bite on one of the upper floors, before the whole thing gets redone later this year. The cab driver was female. This was only the second time I’ve ever seen a female driver, and we all had fun asking her about the taxi business from her perspective, etc. We had one of those “friendly repoire with the cabbie” things going pretty well; in all, a very cool experience. I guess I got a bit too into the whole thing, though.
The question of why all cabbies, independents and company employees alike, have to wear black (or dark blue) was posed; our driver did not know. Then, as we passed a line of people dressed in black standing at a bus stop, someone from the back seat wondered out loud why they were all dressed that way (they were dressed a bit strange, kind of an Elderly Kansai Goth type of look). Someone offered the obvious, saying “funeral,” but I tried my luck with “because they’re all cabbies.”
The car became instantly silent, and the driver’s eyes visibly bulged out of her head as she bit her tongue.
In retrospect, I may have been lucky that she didn’t slam on the brakes, punch me in the mouth, and throw us out of the car right there. She was that pissed.
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Been in this country more than a decade; still haven’t lost the touch, I guess.

My Ainu Roots

A while back, somebody explaining my family ancestry told me that I’m part Ainu. Which is funny, because when I first met my fiance’s dad, he said I looked part Ainu, and I thought he was crazy (I may have Russian sailor blood in me, as evidenced by the occasional rogue bright orange hair on my face, but Ainu?). It turns out that he was right (actually no real surprise since he taught anthropology at Mahasarakham University for a few decades – as usual, I turned out to be the dumbass).
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I like how the Wikipedia entry states that men eat with chopsticks, and women eat with wooden spoons. Do Ainu women usually choose the “soup” entree instead of the “salad” (as opposed to their counterparts in most other areas of the world)? And how the hell do any of them dig into, say, roasted wolf shanks, or a boiled badger steak?
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I’m not religious, but I find animism to be really cool sometimes, especially among the all the current day bullshit caused by religious intolerance. Give me a fire-worshipping, wine-sipping, animal-head-sacrificing pagan any goddamn day.
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Can the person who orginally told me I’m Ainu please stand up? I can’t remember who it was, but it was almost definitely my mom.

Club Sazae Umeda

Through a fiendish twist of events involving Air France stewardesses and fresh squeezed lemon chu-hi, I found myself at a club in Umeda on Saturday night, actually their opening weekend. Basically, the whole experience made me remember why I stopped going to clubs:
– I’m too old for that shit
– Shitty music played by the wannabe rockstar Djs; from the sound of it, you would never guess that house music has actually progressed in the last ten years
– The “fog of war,” cigarette smoke so thick you have to light your own to make it bearable
– Insufferable wannabe yakuza penislickers who insist on staring down everyone that has the gall to walk by their group; strategically positioned next to the restrooms, of course
– New laser/LED lightshows with New! Improved! Dazzle! guaranteed to cause at least a few seizures in the pit every night
– Old women showing sagging tit
– Antibeer: Beer that is the antithesis of cheap, cold, and very un-urinish in taste and appearance
I just have to repeat how truly awful the music was: It was shit, shit, shit. If you were the DJ working CLUB SAZAE this past Saturday, please know that even a retarded chimpanzee could have mixed your Best of Ibiza CD collection better (and yes, I know you were mixing CDs on a shit setup because I heard the track flutter during your fagalicious “fade ‘n cues”).