2008-05-01

who forthwith pounced upon the luckless one

nyt | Pittsburgh Brokers to Wear Their Straw Hats Until Oct 1:

``PITTSBURGH, Sept. 15. -- The customary hilarious destruction of straw hats on Sept. 15 on the floor of the Pittsburgh Stock Exchange was missing today. Tradition has set that as the date for men to bid farewell to the Summer hat and always a big percentage of the Stock Exchange members absentmindedly appeared on this day with their old straws. This was a signal for a chorus of wild whoops on the part of other brokers, who forthwith pounced upon the luckless one.

But the Floor Committee of the Exchange defied tradition today and ruled against observances of the "straw hat" day. The committee decided by a unanimous vote that "straw hats may be worn with all the propriety and dignity attached thereto until and including Oct. 1."''

2007-10-08

all others are error

"There are those who view the world in an easygoing manner, thinking that some people prefer their steak rare, and others well done, and that it's simply a matter of taste. But it is not a matter of taste. Harsh and fascistic as it may sound, there is in truth only one perfect degree of doneness. All others are error, at least in those who, like us, agree that steak should be tasty, tender, and juicy.

Consider the purplish crimson stripe in the very center. This part of the meat is raised to a temperature of only 90°F by the time it comes off the grill; it is in essence raw -- without much flavor and without any juice. Some diners may prefer their entire steak to taste and feel like beef sashimi, perhaps seared on the outside. Cooking does not really start until the meat is heated to beyond 100°F, before this point, meat will be gel-like and hard to chew. Little of the marbling fat will have melted, and the bland proteins will not have broken down into beefy-tasting free amino acids. This is called "bleu" by the French or very rare by us.

Starting at 100°F, the protein molecules start to uncoil and bond with one another, and the connective tissue shrinks. Now both the moisture trapped among the protein molecules in the muscle fibers and the liquefied fat begin to emerge. By about 120 degrees, the water and the fat are flowing freely as delicious juice. So the deepest interior of a thick, mouthwatering steak must be brought to 105 degrees on the grill; it will rise to a juicy 120 degrees after it has rested awhile, as the juices disperse more evenly and the temperatures even out a bit. This is perfection: the meat is no longer jellylike but has taken on only the first signs of grain and has been brought to that narrowest of ranges where the juices have started to flow, the marbling fat is melting, and the protein is breaking down into its incredibly flavorful constituent amino acids, but before the bundles of muscle fibers tighten.

Over 130°F, the proteins coagulate to the point of toughness, as the vertical grain of the meat becomes first distinct and then tight, and more of the moisture between protein molecules is squeezed out, either to evaporate from the surface of the steak or to drip into the fire. This is what is usually meant by medium-rare, and while the meat is still pretty good to eat, it has just passed perfection.

It follows that the outer stripes of light pink, gray-pink, gray-tab, and tan-brown have no gastronomic attraction compared with the deep red and lighter rose layers of meat, and many disadvantages -- until we get to the well-done outer crust, which is the most flavorful and deeply savory part of a steak, the lucky product of concentrated meat juices, decomposed fats, free amino acids, sugars, and the famous Maillard reactions, chemical processes that makes well-browned meats among the most indelible tastes in all of cooking. So an ideal grilled steak should consist mainly of two colors: the savory and mouthwatering, crisp, deeply reddish-brown surface, and the just opaque, juicy, red or rosy inner meat on which the heat of the grill has begun its transformation.

All other layers should be minimized.''

- Jeffrey Steingarten, It Must've Been Something I Ate

I gave up beef this year, so I guess I will avoid error and perfection in these matters.

2007-07-06

optimism

I'm pretty resigned to the suck of modernizations we're pressed to just accept in the world: paying for bad food on airplanes (and the portions are small!), commercial radio, video poker and video jukeboxes at bars, cappuccino machines (!?!), and people wearing crocs.

I know then that when I find a cost-cutting spreading contemporary trend that I kind of dig, I should quietly enjoy it while it lasts. I have to share it with you though.

I love bathroom soap coming out as foam.

2007-02-28

my second best penguins cap

penguins in modern arena

I hate wearing my favorite Penguins hat to hockey games; it is an Old Varsity Gold (a yellow gold of character) fitted cap with the sleek Gary Adams logo from the 1990s; I know that logo isn't popular with the some die-hards but I dig it.

I can't wear my favorite cap because I have to anticipate the duty-bound prospect of tossing my cap for a hat trick; so I wear a cap with sentimental "old time" stitching (not unlike this hat) and the skating-penguin-logo in black and Las Vegas Gold, a gold of iniquity and dubious intent.

I always leave the arena a little disappointed if I manage to hold onto it.

2007-01-31

best effort

millenium bridge

A great gift from the telecommunications & networking industry is in quality of service priority levels: "best effort" is now a euphemism for the worst possible class of service.

I'm sorry, sir, we can't do much more than our best effort; I wouldn't expect anything to really pan out.

2006-12-31

the year in pictures

january:
new year's brunch, orlogio
new year's day in nyc

i got a feeling
steelers in the playoffs, civic pride, & the superbowl runup

february:
i got a feeling (ii)
the steelers victory parade

march:
frank jackson
a quiet start to spring

april:
montreal
montreal for chi2006

wood st art in transit
art in transit opening at wood st galleries

ladytron
coachella

may:
laguna beach
california beach time

hospitality, trixie style
trixie at tiffany ave

art in transit @ art space 303
art in transit at art space 303

june:
apache hitchin'
texas roadhouse, killeen

july:
ITALIA!
italia wins the world cup

all star fan: met
30 fans from 30 teams at the all star game

dippy view
dippy

august:
ben & the hardt breakers
arsenal karaoke

freeway
summer winds down

september:
trolley love
takin' the T

candy
mets baseball

gnarls barkley @ virgin fest
gnarls barkely at the virgin festival

metro ascent
dc metro

october:
panes
some time at home

ya gotta believe
october baseball at shea

bits of october
hampton, va

the good life
some relaxing

fast eddie & me
politicos in the home stretch

november:
polish hill's melwood
walks around town

morning cappuccino
coffee

CMU!
tartan football

allison
handmade arcade portraits

leaf print
autumn goodness (i)

tennyson shadows ii
autumn goodness (ii)

puddle blader
reflection in queens

december:

sunday pizza
baking pizza

jill's cake
parties

on the frozen ketchup of heinz field...
freezing football

here's to a good 2007.
cheers!

2006-12-09

the nose bleed vs. tivo

on the frozen tundra of heinz field...

Thoughts on watching sports from reading discussion around Mike's post on the Steelers-Browns game:

This last October I made it out to Shea for some concrete-and-steel-shaking soul-affirming post-season baseball. Despite upper deck seats, it rocked. Well, game 1 rocked anyway.

The crowd experience and its relation to the on-field game is the foundation of attending a sporting event. That connection with the players and the fans can and should trump almost any technical & perceptual limitation of being there.

I was lucky enough to go to the Steelers playoff win against the Browns in 2002 and it was awesome. What I lost in focused understanding about any particular play was made up for in spades by the screams & elation of 62,000+ when the Fu ran the ball in to take the lead late in the 4th quarter. Even without a real connection to the Habs, I was taken with playoff hockey in Montreal because of the sheer energy packed into whatever-it's-called-that-replaced-the-Forum.

Attending the live event with the right foundation will beat TV any day of the week and 13 times on Sunday. That foundation of the sporting experience lies in the details: is it your team? how crazy are the fans? how big is the rivalry? how good is the team? how meangingful is the game? what is at stake? Being there when the setting is right will transcend an uncomfortable seat, constrained sight lines, and even having to endure the god-forsaken wave.

Without that foundation, you can still enjoy the craft & particulars as a student of the game, but it's not even in the same ballpark (ahem). Yes, you can tally the different levels of technical appreciation available at a sports bar vs. at home with 1080i & tivo vs. front row seats vs. the nose bleed section. If you find yourself thinking too much, you've already given up on the way it ought to be.

If you are resigned to looking for a good technical experience, hockey is significantly better live than on TV. The speed & elegance of good skaters on top of continuous intricate play development (go post-strike rules!) is something to behold. Baseball does well because being outside staring at green grass with beer is an age old trigger for the slow release of serotonin. If you're looking for more, you either need to be a fairly studious fan or have seats that let you see the break of every pitch.

For football, there is a big tension between tree-view and forest-view. Getting close gives you a peak at the human scale drama: the raw physical execution of blocking, the body language of the QB, and the quick decision making amidst confusion. From up above you get an abstract view of play orchestration: how many stay in to block? do they play the run or the pass? Watching on TV conceivably gives you a good blend of the two but it also comes with shifty animated football robots pimping low carb beer and even more inane commentators.

Going to the game and spending some time at field level is great because it reminds you just how complex & hard basic execution is. The shoving, the pushing, the looking, the evading. You can't take it for granted at field level. There is a fog of war on every play. The two big problems are that it is pretty hard to get seats anywhere at field level let alone along the whole length of the field for good perspective on every scrimmage. The second is that the fog of war is contagious and it becomes pretty hard to follow any of the higher level strategy and narrative. You get to watch the outside blocking action in good detail but you need the humungotron to understand what happened. Getting a seat up top is generally good (despite losing the whites-of-their-eyes detail) because you can watch the play development, track the strategy, and watch the part of the game you want to (line play!). It can however get pretty cold.