Thursday, August 30, 2007

Living Right

Risking the scorn of a thousand Sicilian grandma ghosts, Tamalehawk occasionally partakes in whole wheat pasta, whenever he feels sad for the health of his tiny, trembling bird heart. This is the best whole wheat pasta he has found - virtually no taste difference from semolina, no strange aftertaste, no dominant wheat overtones. He wouldn't use the pasta water the same way as regular - it doesn't get as starchy and useful - but it pairs well with any number of sauces.

He experimented for a time with the whole wheat tortilla. No dice. It hardly captures the magic of Mexico. He converted completely to whole wheat hamburger and hot dog buns. Easy enough, the bun is usually playing support to a feature meat anyhow. Get a recognizable bun brand, though, or else the whole experience may be ruined. Don't mess with the Jewel buns, please. You're just playing yourself. Next up for Tamalehawk - do something with the bag of whole wheat flour that has been sitting in his freezer for perhaps six months.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Dark Passage

A tragic power loss put all of Tamalehawk's fridgely possessions in jeopardy. The popsicles, being the weakest of constitution and unfortunately braced against the freezer door, where the first casualties. Once lean and swirled, gravity and a devastating partial thaw melted them all halfway, deforming them. Shaming them. Thankfully, though the nuances of blueberry and lemon were no longer distinguishable, their inherent deliciousness remained intact.

The milk and eggs also paid the price. No degree of triage could save them from peril. Tamalehawk would normally have had to restock his staples at White Hen prices. He and the White Hen have their history, no doubt. They were buddies in college, storming the quad, ruffling feathers. He would swoop down and devour breakfast sandwiches, peruse the muffin options, and partake in the expansive coffee island. But sadly, the Hen had no power in its coop, was dark like the corners of Tamalehawk's cereal-less existence. Then everything was back to normal in a day.

Monday, August 27, 2007

Lessons From The Past

An indefatiguable classic. Don't get Tamalehawk wrong, there are any number of elements that could go catastrophically wrong here - burnt or limp bacon, razor-thin or tasteless tomatoes, afterthought lettuce whose sadness is express by it lifeless drape; still, the BLT has left a bacon-shaped silhouette in the American sandwichscape, the likes of which cannot be mistaken or replaced.

Upon light internet research, Wikipedia told him that the BLT made its print debut in a book called Seven Hundred Sandwiches, from 1929. Whoa. Please someone locate a dusty, brittle copy of this manuscript and carefully deliver it to Tamalehawk's waiting embrace. To create the future of our sandwich culture, we must look first to the lessons of the past. What kinds of sandwiches were people eating then? A whole population, teetering on the precipice of an economic catastrophe, concerned with pioneering their sandwich options with unparalleled industriousness. To them, Tamalehawk says thank you, 1929 - your efforts were not in vain.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Silent Triumph

Don't call them guilty pleasures. Tamalehawk never weathers a pang when coddling a popper twixt his feathertips. If they are on a menu, they are being considered. They are finalists in the menu selection playoffs. Like chicken fingers, jalpops belong to that rare genre of food that may even be better off as a frozen item. Tamalehawk wishes he had Unilever's recipe for these ubiquitous pepper pellets. Cream cheese or cheddar, or the combo if you're savvy, it sits high above the onion ring and is secretly superior to even the French fry in terms of pure flavor, style, and innovation. He isn't even going to qualify that.

Speaking of competitions, Tamalehawk recently confirmed that Full Shilling is better than Yakzies in the all-important Mediocre But Affordable And Convenient Sports Bar With Plenty Of TVs category. Granted, Yazkies has those sweet, giant round tables and is pretty much always hilariously empty, but Full Shilling has an insane pot roast sandwich for some reason. And crinkle fries. And it's cheaper. Weird but true. Don't get him wrong, Full Shilling feels like a strange fit, and the half of the bar you enter on is super gross and cramped, but in many of the areas that matter, it might be your best bet when the game is about to start and you're tired of no one making a stupid decision already.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Broken Wings

Were you looking for the best canned tomatoes? Here they are. Go ahead, grabbed the crushed ones. Unless you want them whole. Whatever. They cost a bit more than your Del Montes and your Hunts, but the superiority in taste and appearance is immediate and undeniable. You may try to deny it, but the failure will be overwhelming, and there you'll be, standing in your kitchen as a wave of shame knocks your glasses off, causing them to skitter across the floor.

Speaking of shame, it should be known that Tamalehawk was the main agitator in the equally reviled and revered Cheese-Plate Destruction of 2007. When sliding beer garden tables apart on a cement surface, improper attention was paid to the platter of cheese slices that teetered above the widening chasm. It went crashing to the ground, and subsequently into the history books. He, with withering wing, retreated into the shadows. This lamentable occurrence is all too common, typically transpiring in front of a gallery of gawking egrets and spoonbills.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

The Bounty of Persistence

Halfway through construction, Tamalehawk was seized by the sensation that something red needed to be hastily sketched into the blueprints. This delayed the build-out for several portentous moments, during which it was feared that the whole project would lose momentum and devolve into a standard cereal sojourn (SCS). He eventually resigned to the largely green scheme and his rare bout of composure was roundly rewarded.

This is: spinach with olive oil and balsamic, topped with scrambled eggs, shredded zucchini, Swiss cheese, and avocado, with toasted onion flatbread. Tamalehawk inhaled this as fast as his mandibles could maneuver. It was just insanely fresh and awesome tasting and he instantly wanted to abuse that healthy feeling he had by impulsively making an entire second one. He battled this behavior and just barely emerged the victor. That is the life that Tamalehawk is burdened with.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Onward, Bravely

Tamalehawk sent out a survey to no one: What are you guys eating your chocolate with? Is it orange? It probably should be. This combination has risen to achieve a cache of casual credibility in recent years. It brings a lot of seemingly incongruous elements into a reverent harmony. Bitter and rich, just like all the best everythings always are.

Directive: Try the #5 at Nhu Lan Bakery on Lawrence. It is a mildly famous sandwich by now, having had its own gratuitous feature photo in Time Out. Be prepared: it is going to sound like a hard sell. You will not want to order it. It may fundamentally repel you in concept. It is, after all, a pate and pork belly sandwich. But persevere and tap into your reserves of adventurousness, the one that made you fearlessly pick rain-displaced worms off the sidewalk when you were just a #5, and order with confidence. Here's what awaits: a hot and cold, crunchy and soft, spicy and fresh meal that tastes just like potstickers in sandwich form. All for $2.95. There are other kinds too that looked as promising - chicken, pork, meatball. Plus each half is wrapped separately for some awesome reason, so it's like you're getting two sandwiches, one for each triumphantly-raised hand.

Tuesday, August 7, 2007

Pastoral Climes

Tamalehawk apologizes for an awful July vis-as-vis tractate tending. Many meals have been egregiously overlooked. He can only, like the humble pierogie, hope to extrude them all through a tube into a dough pouch and pan-fry them.

Julylights: Tamalehawk reaffirms his praise for Bistro Campagne on Lincoln. It marked the maiden voyage of escargot into his bird belly. Seeking to sate his seemingly ceaseless hunger, he continued with shrimp and homemade gnocchi in a crazy broth with some weird onions that looked like orchids that are apparently Google-proof. All this in a garden patio that is undoubtedly magical; Tamalehawk expected sparrows with fresh napkins to alight on his lustrous wing bars.