Hate With The Passion Of A Thousand Suns: Cossack Vodka

Cossack Vodka.

The Vodka brewed in Sommerville Massachusetts. Why not “from the cool, clean waters of lake eerie!” or “from the rolling hills of Chernobyl!”? It is the worst tasting vodka in the history of history. Poor Siberian farmers made better vodka in their toilets. Seriously, it tastes like an awkward combination of sludgy and yet chalky. Basically, it tastes like elmers glue.

But there’s a bigger story here. Cossack Vodka is tied in with the story of the worst night of my life.

It was back in College when I lived in a two floor house with my 6 of my best friends from school. The night was none other than the disparaging game 3 of the ALCS in 2004 and the Red Sox had just got their asses handed to them on a silver platter by the Yankees. My roommates were also having a party at the time. It wasn’t a huge party, but there were enough people to constitute a large get-together. And most of them I didn’t know for some reason. I was extraordinarily depressed by the game and a number of other recent and decided to take out my sorrows with the time-tested approach of copious amounts of alcohol. I’m normally quite the merry drunk, but this night was bad news bears.

We didn’t have much of a choice. The liquor stores were closed and all that was left was a bottle of “Cossack Vodka” that had been sitting around for some reason. My good friend Little Mike and I decided to start taking shots in effort of comraderie. We started of with 3 quick shots to get that “quick drunk” buzz. What struck me immediately was the horrible taste in my mouth. It was Epic-Fail bad. The horror-striken taste was totally analogous to the terrible night. So we started drinking more in an effort to stop tasting it. It started an epic streak really where we consumed 11 shots in 30 minutes. I proceeded to take 4 more in the approaching 15 minutes to little mike’s two. That means in 45 minutes I had 15 shots of horrible vodka to Little Mike’s 13.

That’s a lot of awful booze.

Apparently somewhere during that home stretch we were going back and forth at our neighbors house. I don’t really remember much anymore, though I did remember this stuff the next day.

Anycrap, flash-forward a half an hour and I feel awful and I make my way to a toilet, to perform my santicmonious duty of throwing up. I immediately start thinking “this is good, just get it out, you’ll be fine”.

Thirty seconds into the proceedings Little Mike is being pushed into the same bathroom after throwing up on our friend. Needless to say, she wasn’t amused, but she was being a good sport. So there I am throwing up in the toilet as Little Mike pukes (rather messily) in the sink. It sounded like two horses dying in heat.

This went on for hours. It was not one and done. It was puke-fest 04. Getting up constantly in the night to hurl. All the next day, to hurl. I couldn’t get it off of the lining in my stomach. It was horrible. And all the while, I tasted that awful chalky texture of Cossack vodka.

Maybe the worst part of all of this was that Little Mike somehow still uses this as night where he “beat me” in a drinking contest. The first problem with this is that the drinking contests with myself and Little Mike didn’t develop til later on in the semester, all of which I won handily. The Second problem is I drank two more shots of vodka.  The third is if I knew it was a contest I could have easily handled the next thirty seconds and held it in. Fourth, I never would’ve puked on a girl. Ssssssssssorry Little Mike.

The only good thing about it is I think of it like my “baptism by fire” and the Red Sox went on to do the impossible, win 8 straight, win the world series, and lift the curse.

But damn. When I think back to that night. I can still taste it.

Damn you Cossack Vodka.

Damn you to hell.

Like: Rock Band

So this is how it went:

A bunch of video game designers were sitting around in their awesomeness and went:

“Hey let’s invent the greatest party game ever!”

“Okay, how about a game where you play simplified musical instruments collectively as a rock band”

“And we can use popular/totally awesome songs!”

“Cool, and we’ll make different difficulties so you can totally show off or if you’ve never played you’d be okay after two tries!”

“Or even play when you’re drunk!”

“Especially if you’re drunk!”

“And we could actually make the drums give you some of the same skills needed to drum”

“Not the guitar though”

“No, not the guitar”

“And you wouldn’t even really have to know the words! Just the basic tune!”

“And we’ll have the vocals real low so people’s awful, awful voices don’t ruin it!”

“And we could actually teach people the value of pitch since it’s the only thing the mic could measure!”

“BAD ASS! LET’S DO IT”

“Dude, be sure Gimme Shelter is one of the songs!”

***

Sure there were 2 versions of guitar hero as the progenitor to this so it was really just the next logical step in the evolution, but I still like this version of the events.

Don’t Like: Defective Coffee Lids (PART II)

I have a temper about the weirdest shit. It rarely, rarely, rarely comes out and it’s almost never directed at humans. Why not humans? Cause I can usually understand the fallacy of human error and chalk it up to individual interest (basically objectivism). No, what usually gets me angry is incredibly stupid stuff like traffic patterns, or in the case of today: THE SAME FUCKING DEFECTIVE COFFEE LID.

This is BS man. I got some coffee (which again, I rarely do) and didn’t even fill it up all the way. I put the lid on. Walked outside. INSTANTLY SPILLING OUT BOTH SIDES OF THE CUP. Luckily, I was smart enough to bring napkins this time to help take care of the mess. I had to pour out a bunch of the coffee out into the trash to even get it mobile. Lo and behold, I get into the elevator and the lid starts spitting out coffee when I’m pretty much perfectly still. My hand continues to burn and I finally get upstairs to my office. I pour more out (i have like 1/2 a cup by now) and finally sit down to drink this thing because I’m tired and desperately need caffeine.

I check to be sure the lid is on extra tight again. I raise it up… instantly spilling out from underneath the lid and onto my jeans.

Needless to say I hurled that fucking cup across my cube. Yes, it was at my trash can and it went in, but coffee is now everywhere. I made a half hearted attempt to clean it up but now it just smells like coffee.

Now this is usually the point where you suspect someone has an anger problem. But like I said, I only do about the weirdest shit. And I don’t even care, cause that coffee lid can totally kiss my ass. How can we not make coffee lids that work?!??!!

So why don’t you analyze me interwebs! ANALYZE THIS!

Like: The Apple Pan

I’m planning on going to The Apple Pan for lunch this week.

The Apple Pan is awesome. It’s a lone, independent burger joint that features one big rectangular counter. The burgers are pretty solid. The patties are more of the thin variety but they got great fixins and best of all this werid bbq sauce that totally makes the whole thing work. I consider myself to have a high culinary aptitude and palette and I have no idea what the fuck is in the sauce. They serve nice crispy steak fries too and some sweet root beer. Plus, you can be in and out in like 15 minutes. Even the huge line moves fast. The staff is all business which I love and appreciate.

I <3 The Apple Pan

Like: Bridge

Bridge… the sport of old ladies! And apparently some college students.

One night my sophomore of year of college my friend Dwigget taught us how to play bridge. We were suspect at first, but honestly up for anything so we played… and played… and played. Soon there were nightly bridge games lasting hours and hours and about 8 of were in the rotation.

It really is a wonderful game. One of those games that’s about strict perfection of memory, planning, and intuition. It’s about being on the same wavelength with your partner and having a lot of patience. It’s about having a place to drink gin. It’s rather different from poker even though memory is just as important, while poker is kind of the center for showboating, bridge is completely about subtle execution. Most of the time all four people know exactly how the game is going to play out and it’s about picking the exact ways to take advantage of what might be a single opportunity to bring your opponent down.

It really is one of my favorite card games. Unfortunately, I’ve never, ever, ever met anyone else under the age of 40 who knows how to play. Y’all don’t know what you’re missing.

I <3 Bridge.

Don’t Like: Bud Light Lime, Seriously?

I’m kind of barfing looking at this picture.

First off, bud light is disgusting. It’s swilled piss and lack-luster carbonation. It’s like drinking toilet water only it doesn’t hydrate you, make you drunk, and just makes you pee. Add in the fact that I’m not really a big corona with a lime in it guy, then this is definitely a bad idea. I picture it tasting all chemically and awful like Diet Coke w/ Lime or some other awful product created in a lab.

Refreshing? Picture the opposite of refreshing… that would be Bud Light Lime.

Like: That Paul Brought Dunkin Donuts Coffee to Work

Today’s gonna be a love fest. I just know it. Paul brought in grinds of Dunkin Donuts this morning. I’m already on my 2nd cup. It’s just fantastic. West coasters don’t understand. For some reason they like drinking StarBURNTASSBEANSBucks that cost 5 dollars a pop. East coasters also don’t understand cause they’re immersed in the world of the double D. But the east coasters on the west understand. This is indeed a special day. It’s pretty much the only time I still drink coffee. Oh happy day.

Time for a 3rd Cup.

Don’t Like: Defective Coffee Lids

This morning I actually bought a cup of starbucks coffee. This is egregious on several levels. 1) We have free coffee here at work 2) I hate starbucks coffee, it tastes like burnt ass 3) I really just went in to get a croissant cause I was hungry but ended up getting a giant chocolate croissant and “grande” (wtf? that’s medium) cup of coffee 4) I don’t even really like drinking coffee that much and 5) most importantly, there was a defective lid.

Now if Jackie Childs was asking me I would reiterate that I did not put the lid on, they put the lid on. About halfway walking through the courtyard back to my building. I felt a strange sting on my hands only to realize two sides of the cup were gleaking out the sides and croissant bag was wet. Not having any noticeable aid in this matter, I kept walking so I could hurry to the elevator and get to the kitchen on my floor. All the way, burning my hand. The elevator was awkward in that I was trying to shield my obviously leaking coffee. I tried to direct most of it onto the bag, but there were clearly visible problems to these people. So I ran to the kitchen. Found the ONE SPARE paper towel square (as in singular) that was left over and attempted to clean it. Now w/ a counter I felt I could repair the lid which was placed incorrectly.

I did so and kept walking to my desk only to realize the familiar burning sensation had returned. Panicking, I ran to my desk, spilled more, cleaned more, and through that freaking lid in the trash where it deserved to be.

Fuck you defective coffee lid. Fuck you to hell.

Love: PROVIDENCE RESTAURANT

I’m borderline obsessed with high cuisine… and pretty much all cuisine too. My love of both eating and preparing the best food there is, has lead me to the extreme ends of culinary expertise (or at least as far as the relatively little money I earn does). I’ve eaten the cuisine of Joel Robuchon, and at some of the great California flagships. With that, it’s only fitting that the best food I’ve ever had in my life, is from the restaurant around the corner from house.

It’s really nothing more than coincidence. It’s a 5 star restaurant after all. Michael Cimarusti, the chef who oversaw the revitalization of The Water Grill, founded Providence with his partner and matire ‘d Donato Pato. Cimarusti brings an outright tangible passion for his food and craft. He’s one of the few Los Angeles chefs who’s actually more concerned with the highest standards of his food then whether or not he has a famous clientèle. He works brilliantly with the “petit details” and while enormously inventive and original, it’s ALWAYS about flavor first. Which makes his pairing with pastry chef Adrian Vasquez all the more wonder. Adrian is endlessly inventive, integrating savory flavors, asian, indian, and mexiacn ingredients into his a-traditional desserts. Plus, he doesn’t seem overly concerned with composition when most gourmet pastry chefs are really nothing more than sugar sculptors.

I cannot tell you just how incredibly refreshing this is in the modern culinary scene. Psuedo-inventiveness is often favored by the critics who have no idea what they’re doing. It’s amazing to me. Meanwhile, the foodies all know, Providence is the real deal.

I’ve taken several cooking classes at the restaurant and they’ve been some of the most eye-opening experiences of my (in cooking terms at least).

I love this restuarant.

http://www.providencela.com/

Don’t Like: Those Coors Light Ads That Talk About Their Brewing Process and Then Say “We Don’t Change! Sound Like Anyone You Know?” Implying You.

I mean, I understand what they’re doing and I’m not such a politico that I can’t stand when a product caters to a different political or social outlook, but I just found it weird. What if I like Coors Light? I don’t, but say I did. Then say I was also for progress! The implications are staggering. I can’t imagine having to decide between my philosophy and my beer of choice. I should write an angry letter to the good people at coors… even if they are reactionaries! Huzzah!