The Magnificent McGriddle

If you've never had a McGriddle, you've been living a sad existence. Do yourself a favor and stop by your neighborhood McDonald's tomorrow and devour one. You'll be happy you did. If you've never even heard of a McGriddle (I think you're on the wrong website), the following will explain everything:

The concept of a McGriddle is so simple, yet so incredibly brilliant. It's simplicity lies in it's brevity: only 4 main components. Eggs, cheese and breakfast meat of your choice (my go-to is sausage), sanwiched between the pièces de résistance - syrup infused griddle cakes. It combines the very best that breakfast has to offer into one handheld package bursting with flavor from every direction. A true marvel of modern culinary ingenuity and excess, the McGriddle is in a league of its own (perhaps rivaled only by the KFC Double Down).

But the McGriddle does have its cons. They are on the small side, their structural composition can vary depending on the elementary school drop-out who crafts yours, and who knows whats going on with that gelatinous disc they call an egg...Obviously, they're still delicious, but the concept definitely has room for improvement.

As a huge fan of breakfast sandwiches in general, I know how good they can be when they're hot off the pan and made with real ingredients. A McGriddle-style sandwich is no exception. As delicious as pancakes are, they rarely come to mind when I'm thinking about making my own breakfast at home. I can count on one hand the number of times I've personally made pancakes in my life...But as someone who loves making my own breakfast feasts, I have always thought about crafting my own McGriddle. So when I was in New Orleans last month I came across something that looked too good to pass up. While visiting Southern CandyMakers on Decateur St. and filling up a huge bag with chocolate-covered everything, I noticed a bag of Bruce's sweet potato pancake mix...normally I would have just walked right past it, but for some reason it caught my eye: These would be perfect for making a McGriddle! So I bought the bag of mix, brought it home and it just sat on my kitchen counter for a couple of weeks waiting for it's moment to shine.

Then a few Saturday's ago, I found myself at Fiacco's Pork Store in Greenwich Village (260 Bleecker Street btw. Cornelia & Jones). If you've never been there you should definitely stop by if you're ever in the neighborhood. Full butcher shop, deli, pre-made Italian dishes, cheeses, fresh baked bread...you name it. But the real reason I went was for the roast beef. For my money, it's the best homemade roast beef in NYC - Rare and juicy throughout and they craft a flawless sandwich with it. But I digress...While I was waiting in line, I noticed some amazing freshly ground sweet Italian sausage patties. So I bought a few in anticipation of a Sunday breakfast feast the next morning.

Right before watching the Giants reprise their weekly role as the NFL's version of Rodney King at 1pm Sunday, I fired up my electric griddle, which remains to be one of the best $20 puchases I've ever made. I threw the sausage patties on, and while those started to cook through I mixed the batter with water and infused it with Aunt Jemima Butter Lite syrup (the best) and started to make sandwich-sized pancakes on the other side of the griddle. I stacked those up on a plate and started craking a bunch of eggs on the griddle, topped them with American cheese and started to assemble the McGriddles. Bottom pancake > Sausage patty > Egg > Cheese > (some Crystal hot sauce - optional for you, required for me) > Top pancake. It was that simple, but holy shit were those fucking things amazing. Here's the finished platter:

As I anticipated, it all came down to the ingredients: top quality authentic sweet Italian sausage, fresh eggs (made with slightly runny yolks), and sweet potato pancake book-ends which had an incredible, sweet cinnamon flavor melded with the butter lite flavor in the background. If Autumn had a flavor, it would taste like these pancakes. Of course, there are many other variations that can be made on this sandwich: Bacon, Ham, different types of sausage, different varieties of cheeses, etc...but this was a pretty promising inaugural effort. These McGriddles also differed from the real thing in the other way I expected: they were LARGE...they were basically breakfast cheeseburgers. You can see how thick they were:

Ever seen a yolk like that on your McGriddle?

So I ended up eating 1 3/4 of these breakfast behemoths and then I wasn't able to move off the couch for at least an hour...which turned out to be a curse considering the miserable Giants were on TV and the images of opposing running backs running for 13 yards a carry all afternoon were burned into my retinas.

Unlike my Big Mac re-creation, which turned out great, but not as good as the real deal...this McGriddle remake was undoubtedly more delicious than the McDonald's version with far more complex flavors...and I didn't even have to put pants on to leave the house on Sunday. If you don't believe me, then come on over and join me on a lazy Sunday...you'll be sold before long.

Ápizz & The Orchard

Last night, after a failed attempt at Freeman's (2 hour wait), we finally heeded a long-standing recommendation from Chardo to check out Ápizz. Ápizz sits it the middle of a random, sketchy block - 217 Eldridge, between Stanton & Rivington - and you'd never guess what the interior looks like based on the exterior view (but isn't that the case with some of the best NYC restaurants). Anyway, let me get straight to the point: the place is awesome. It has a rustic feel inside with an open kitchen, exposed brick walls, and dark wood. But it also has a modern, warm orange glow, which we thought seemed pretty reminiscent of the Orchard (162 Orchard between Stanton & Rivington)...and I'll be godamnned if we weren't spot on.
As I discovered today, they're both owned by the same guy, John LaFemina, and I have nothing but rave reviews for this guy. He even has a book out called, A Man And His Meatballs.

I've been to the Orchard a couple of times and I was a pretty big fan. Their flatbread apps are basically cracker-thin pizza crusts topped with amazing combinations...so when we got the chorizo pizza to start at Ápizz, it was very similar in style and really delicious. They have 3 other pizzas on the menu that all looked like winners. On another note, their table bread is served with marinara sauce and ricotta cheese...a nice touch. A restaurant is only as good as the bread it puts on the table.

The entrees definitely did not disappoint either...at our table we had the Gnocchi con Ragu di Carne (homemade gnocchi topped with honey-braised prime beef short ribs in a tomato ragu sauce), the signature Polpette e Pomodori (2 huge veal/pork/beef meatballs with ricotta in a tomato gravy), grilled shrimp in a lemon/butter/white wine/fresh herb "broth", and of course, my fat ass got the most buttery, cheesy, indulgent item on the menu...the Ravioli con Zucca (open ravioli with ricotta, mascarpone, caramelized butternut squash, in a brown butter and sage sauce)...check out the full menu on their website. If those don't get you hungry, you're probably a Communist and you should get yourself checked out. And you know what, the debilitating food coma I was expecting, really never set in...maybe my body has just adapted to massive fat and carb intake over the years like a champ. Or maybe I'll have a heart attack before 30...only time will tell.

Overall, a really solid meal, great atmosphere, and I'd defnitely go back. Put it on your list.

Happy Veterans Day

"Hate war, but love the American warrior."

-Lt. General Harold Gregory "Hal" Moore, USA, West Point, Harvard, received the Distinguished Service Cross for valor in Vietnam, first in his West Point class to become a general and rise to three stars.


Happy Veterans Day to all.

Today, instead of getting pissed off about your job, your commute, the weather, etc...think about what our veterans and active service men and women have to deal with (and have been dealing with for 233+ years) on a daily basis. Then go shake a veteran's hand and thank them for their selfless service to the greatest country on Earth. Without them, you probably wouldn't have a job or commute to complain about, and if you did, you'd probably be complaining in German or Japanese.

Always remember: Freedom isn't free...It is reserved for those who are willing to pay its price.



"The American fighting man. He is on the one hand the most dangerous weapon on Earth, and on the other, among the most compassionate and caring people on Earth."

God Bless America

Wasted Woman Face Plants On Subway Track

It's amazing this drunk bitch survived...but since she did, now we can all laugh about it. Gotta love people who can't hold their liquor....and then decide to hang out on the very edge of train platforms. Good times.



Train conductors in Boston are so compassionate...I'm not sure a New York City train would have stopped.

I Swear...Mommy Is Not A Stripper!

Stripper or Home Depot employee - you be the judge...but I don't see a standard issue orange vest on the mom, so I'm leaning towards the Bring-Your-Daughter-To-The-Players-Club-Night the day before the assignment was due...

Defending The Drive-Thru

There are essentially 2 kinds of people in this world: 1) Those who see the sign above, shake their head in disgust and feel like vomiting, and 2) those who see the sign, press down firmly on the gas pedal and haul ass to exit 59. I know that if I ever come across a sign as glorious as this one, I will not hesitate to pull over. Clearly, we know where I stand on the issue. But what about those people who fall into category 1? Why is it that so many people hate the fast food industry? I really want to know. How can so many people have such outright contempt for a range of restaurants and products that are delicious, convenient and, quite frankly, revolutionary? Like it or not, fast food is arguably one of the most influential "inventions" of the 20th century and one of America's most recognizable exports abroad. The fast food service sector is undeniably a significant force in our economy and has been for decades. However, fast food opponents, nutritionists and tree-huggers alike will argue that it's making our citizens fat. FALSE. Our citizens are making our citizens fat. It's like Chris Tucker once said, "Guns don't kill people, stupid motherfuckers with guns kill people (Name The Movie...)!"

It's true that just as guns in the wrong hands can be extremely dangerous (convicted felons), so too can fast food (Kirstie Alley). But just like you can't hold Smith & Wesson accountable for a premeditated murder, you can't arrest The King as an accessory to this country's coronaries...you have to blame the consumer. If you're eating 3 supersized value meals every day, there are probably some larger lifestyle issues you should address. Just because a product exists doesn't mean you have to use it or associate yourself with it at all. That's the beauty of capitalism. But hey, if you want to be morbidly obese, then more power to you...Freedom of Expression...It's the 1st Amendment. All I ask

is that you, and your anti-fast food advocates, stop looking for excuses and placing the blame everywhere else other than on yourselves...all these assholes are doing is ruining all of the great products the U.S. offers to accomodate our vices...liquor, tobacco, marijuana, and 1200 calorie cheeseburgers that are ready at a moment's notice. Let's face it: It's not Jim Beam's fault you drove into that tree; it's not Joe Camel's fault you got emphysema; it's not Towelie's fault that you cant remember what day it is (well maybe slightly); and it sure as hell isn't Ronald McDonald's fault that your 8 year old is fat.

When a fatty blames fast food for their obesity (or their child's), it's akin to having a peanut allergy and knowingly eating a jar of peanut butter, then blaming your adverse reaction on the makers of Jif for making it widely available. If you are fat, and you want to lose weight, then stop eating entire Crave Cases for lunch.

However, there are those of us who relish this choice that we have, and actively decide to embrace the splendor that is American fast food. I don't eat it every day, but it has a very special place in my heart and my belly. Every so often you just get that craving and there's nothing else that can satisfy. If I go too long without a Big Mac, I begin to understand how Tyrone Biggums feels everyday.

I recently received an email from Brownie with a link to a Newsweek article by Steve Tuttle. I've never seen anyone describe the fast food experience quite like him. He is my new hero...check out the article here and enjoy. Prepare to be inspired and hungry...at least that's how it made me feel.

So after you read his article and my post, my proposition to all of you is that - for just one meal this week - you disregard all the negativity and bullshit surrounding fast food and go re-connect with your favorite burger, chicken sandwich, nugget, gordita, extra crispy drumstick, mcmuffin, frosty, and/or fries. (If it's been awhile and you've forgotten where to go, here's a list of every fast food restaurant in existence). Feel free to post a comment detailing the calorie-filled slice of heaven you fell back in love with.

Give in to one of America's greatest guilty pleasures and help spur the economy while you're at it! Consider it your civic duty...like voting, but far more delicious.

Your country thanks you.

Woman Calls In Her Own DUI

Only in Wisconsin (or the south):

This sexy cougar (see above) calls 911 and reports herself as the drunk driver...and most likely she got busted for talking on a cell phone while driving too ha. You have to hear it to believe it:

http://www.kplr11.com/videobeta/watch/?watch=f553c120-4b2d-46c1-88f2-8ce6ce55cec4&cat=empty&src=front

NOLA: 2 Weeks Later

So here we are, 2 weeks after the fall NOLA trip...everything was looking so good then...how quickly it can come crashing down. The once 5-0 GMEN are now on a 3 game losing streak with an extremely tough schedule ahead, the goddamn Phillies and Yankees are in the World Series (and I'm forced to become a 10-day Yanks fan according to the principles of the Lesser-Of-Two-Evils law), and that supposed Indian summer turned very cold, very quickly. But why dwell on the negatives when you can dwell on New Orleans?

After one of the worst travel days ever: half of an airplane drink cart's contents spilled all over my jeans, completely incompetent airline employees, and the craziest in-flight thunderstorm I've ever seen, I finally arrived at 4am Friday. Terrible. But at least there was a shit-ton of Jacques-Imo's and Crabby Jack's leftovers in the fridge for me to get a taste of what I missed on Thursday. Woke up early Friday on a few hours sleep, ready to kick it in the ass...a nice run to Oak Street Cafe got me back in the NOLA state of mind right quick. A little live jazz music, some freshly baked cake doughnuts, and the best egg dish known to man...Eggs Beauregard. 2 buttermilk biscuits, topped with 2 sausage patties, topped with 2 poached eggs, all smothered in white gravy (and my own hot sauce addition) with potatoes (or grits) on the side. If you've never had it, imagine an edible heaven topped with white gravy. Yeah it's that good.

After breakfast, we did what any self-respecting southerner would do on a Friday morning...we went shootin'. After a quick drive to The Shooter's Club in Harahan, we rented a couple of Glocks (.40 & .45) and popped off a few rounds.

Only in the deep south do they supply you with targets that look like these:

I was proud to see how packed that place was on a Friday at 11am...that crazy redneck owner should write a thank you letter to President Obama for the spike in business and the exorbitant ammo prices he can charge due to the Great Bullet Shortage Of 2009.

Anyway, we followed the range up with a quick tour of ol' 828 Broadway...that place is as much of a shithole as ever...literally 2-3 foot high piles of trash and old furniture on every front stairwell landing (which was definitely worse than when we lived there), mold all over the place, and obviously no working locks on the doors in the murder capital of the country ha. Plus my former penthouse apartment was converted from 2BR to 4BR and now its just a shittier version of the other units. What a shame.

The next few hours get a little hazy...Boot happy hour, Drago's (don't ever eat there...terrible service and AWFUL food other than the char-grilled oysters), Harrah's and then a little stroll down Bourbon to Pat O's, Gold Mine, etc.

Saturday...the weather was perfect and we headed down to the CBD to Lafayette Square Park on St. Charles for the Crescent City Blues & BBQ Fest. It was basically a Fall version of French Quarter Fest with amazing BBQ platters like pulled pork, cochon de lait poboys, delicious jerk chicken, and about 9 different types of sausages (pork, gator, crawfish, etc...). And some pretty good local blues acts up on stage too..

After feasting and a few beers to wash it down, we ventured into the quarter, wandered around for a few hours...of course we ended up at the Chart Room as usualy for Chartreuse shots and Budweiser pony cans...I'll admit, as gross as that shit is, it really gets you going. In the words of Quentin Tarantino, "Chartreuse, the only liqueur so good they named a color after it."

Eventually, after boozing in the sun for hours, we found our way to Yo Mama's on St. Peter's (directly across from Pat O's side entrance) for a burger. I sacrilegious as it sounds, Port Of Call was just too far at that point in the day. Plus we figured, why not try something new? So this place is a dark, shit-hole bar (what bar in NOLA isn't...) with 2 tables, which were full. So we snag some seats at the bar and take a look at their menu which had at least 15 different crazy burgers. I see one in particular and had a "When in Rome" moment...the Peanut Butter Burger. As strange as it sounded, I couldn't resist ordering it. When the fuck else am I gonna eat a peanut butter & bacon burger? So after a couple of Abitas and the tatted up female bartenders offering their opinions on bush shots in the latest Playboy sitting on the bar in front of us...my feast arrives:

Yeah...that's peanut butter with a pile of bacon on top...and a LOADED baked potato. And I'll tell you what...it was pretty fucking good. By the end, I was a little sick of peanut butter, and maybe just a little sick in general considering it's a 1 pound patty plus all that other shit on the plate. But overall I'm happy I tried it. If I ever go there again (I definitely wish I discovered this place when I lived there), I'll probably stick with the more standard burger choices, which were quite delicious.

After another rowdy night downtown, we somehow woke up at 8:30am on Sunday, packed the car full of Budweisers, threw on the Mardi Gras/SB XLII-tested Eli jersey and hauled ass to the Superdome.

(Amazing Side Note: While tailgating I noticed the still-Katrina-ridden Hyatt next to the dome...the "H" had fallen off one of the main signs, leaving only "YATT"...If you ever lived in NOLA you know just how incredible that is...I tried to take a pic, but it was blurry)

Finally got into the dome, sat in our amazing seats...and then it was all downhill after that...it

wasn't even a fucking game. It was 14-0 Saints before I blinked. That dome was the loudest sports venue I've ever experienced, and I've been to a lot of loud ones...you couldn't even talk to people 3 seats down from you. But you know what, when I walked out of that game, the sun was shining down on us on a perfect 75 degree October day and I was walking down the street with an open beverage in my hand...what a city. If a city can make you forget that your team just got Rhianna-ed in front of your eyes, then that's a special place. Follow that up with a little Sunday afternoon football at the Boot like the old days and I almost never left for the airport...

Overall, an incredible trip that lived up to the 4 month hype and I can't wait to go back for the Gras & JazzFest in 2010. See you there...

Drop Me Off In New Orleans!

So I'm off to the Big Sleezy tonight...if my flight ever leaves Miami.A nice 2 hour delay in NYC followed by another 2 hours in Miami really sucks but I guess now I know how the Jews felt wandering the desert for 40 years beore they got to the promised land.

In case anyone was wondering, I flew American airlines and I can tell you I'll never fly them by choice ever again. Terrible service, constant misinformation/blatant lying, and overpriced whiskey. Enough said. Just like Homeland Security has their no-fly list, so do I...as of today it includes: American Airlines, U.S. Airways (Sully notwithstanding), and AirTran. And believe me, it pains me to have to put the 2 most patriotic-titled carriers on my list...but wow do they suck both suck. I wish air travel could be more like the good old days. Maybe part of Obama's "Extreme Makeover: American Edition" needs to include some upgrades to the airlines that bear our collective name (or is that socialism if he sticks his nose in airline industry...?).

Anyway, I digress. Back to NOLA...This happens to be the longest I've been away from the city I love since I first moved there in 2003...and I couldn't be more excited for my return. The only thing we actually have "planned" is the Giants/Saints undefeated duel at the dome, where I'll be Sunday afternoon, front and center, to see the GMEN continue to stomp out the rest of the league. Should be a great game.

Other than that, it'll be a blurry mess of a walk down memory lane which I'm sure will take us to Pat Os, gold mine, bourbon cowboy, the dungeon, port of call, crabby jacks, the shooters club (haven't flexed my 2nd amendment muscles in over a year - not since I moved back up north actually...terrible) the Boot, the Palms, and more than likely, numerous trips to...HARRAHS! When I say we have nothing planned, I mean there are no set times for any of these events...we have a shit-ton of stuff on the agenda...and I'm pretty excited for my favorite coronary-inducing platters of fried heaven which I've gone waay to long without (although my body thanks me everyday).

I plan to indulge in almost everything this incredible city has to offer and live to tell about it...post to follow...y'heard!

The Rape Tunnel: Mankind's Greatest Social Experiment?

This simple wooden structure above, known as The Rape Tunnel - not to be confused with the now-discontinued, alleged New Orleans Rape Tunnel:



or the Lincoln Tunnel, which you can't drive through without getting fucked every time - could have been of one of the most controversial and thought-provoking social experiments ever created, instead it's just another run-of-the-mill internet hoax probably perpetrated by some douchebag artsy hipsters from Williamsburg. The plan is ingenious...you crawl through at your own risk, knowing full well that there is a psychotic, angry, rape-hungry maniac waiting on the other side in a dark room with no windows or doors. Think about it: If you make the conscious decision to enter The Rape Tunnel, then how can the act that occurs on the other side still be considered rape? By deciding to crawl through that tunnel, aren't you basically consenting to having sex...?


Anyway, the whole thing was fabricated: the interview, the artist and the works of "art" (including his previous stroke of genius, the Punch-You-In-The-Face Tunnel - I think you can guess how that one would have worked).


It's always good to see people pushing the envelope and testing the limits of what society can stomach. Too bad there isn't actually an artist who has the balls to pull something like this off.

The Real Big Mac

I can't think of a better way to begin than with a little story about the perfect sandwich:

2 All Beef Patties
Special Sauce
Lettuce
Cheese
Pickles
Onions
On A Sesame Seed Bun

The Big Mac...One of mankind's greatest culinary achievements, it tastes phenomenal, and you can get it 24 hours a day, 7 days a week...but let's be honest, sometimes one doesn't even fill you up. Our good friends at MacDonald's don't exactly pile on the beef (and I won't even get started on the content and origin of that indescribable mystery meat).


So while sitting on the couch last Sunday watching the GMEN stomp out the worst team in the NFL (the Chiefs), I had a stroke of genius...Being the proud American that I am, I thought to myself: I can make it bigger (and maybe, just maybe, I can make it better). After quick run to the store, 7 simple ingredients and a couple of flips on the grill, I had crafted a 9 inch-tall tower of burger brilliance...







After I devoured this monstrosity and washed it down with a couple of Budweisers, I realized two things: 1) I am a fat fuck and 2) Although my Mac dwarfed the real thing (and tasted pretty damn good), there truly is no substitute for an authentic Big Mac. God Bless you Ray Kroc.


I then digested until halftime and went for a short walk to get some ice cream (see "fat fuck" realization)...All in all, a pretty nice fall Sunday in America.