I’d seen pictures of this, and I’ve even been served a few, but I’d never actually seen it done. Behold the splendor of coffee art.
If you’re in Sacramento and want to see this in person, some of the baristas at the Naked Lounge will do it when the line isn’t too long.
In celebration of this year’s Harry Potter film adaptation, Cap Candy is set to release a new Potter-based confection next year modeled on our friend the cockroach. Each Cockroach Cluster measures two inches long by one inch wide and consists of a juicy gummy underbelly covered in a crunchy candy shell—“just like real cockroach wings.”
Some of my readers will no doubt remember my first encounter with Potter-inspired candy, Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans. I was doing fine with those—most were quite tasty, and the dirt and grass and whatnot were kind of fun—until I got to a vomit flavored one. That vile little bean was and remains the worst thing I have ever put in my mouth on purpose—and that includes childhood dares (a certain gummi worm and anchovy pizza comes to mind). The description of the cockroach clusters neglects the small matter of flavor, but maybe I’ll give it a go.
A new hot sauce made of pure capsaicin is so hot that it’s potentially lethal, according to the Sun Online. At 16 million Scoville units, this stuff’s hotter than pepper spray, which generally ranges from 2-20% capsaicin. Limited quantities available, for some reason.
Years ago I had an idea to revolutionize the food service industry. I was tired of calling for a pizza and being told I’d need to wait as long as 45 minutes for delivery. When I want a pizza delivered, it’s because I’ve already failed to plan my evening effectively. I don’t want to eat in an hour; I’m hungry now. So, I figured, the best way to improve delivery time is to move production from a fixed location a few miles away to mobile units that might be just around the corner. Each van would have a built-in oven and a set territory to roam. You could cover a larger total delivery area and still have less distance to drive for each individual delivery, and baking time would overlap with driving time!
Anyway, most people thought I was joking. The few who took me seriously explained all the reasons it wouldn’t work: a working oven in a moving van is a serious safety hazard; the heat buildup would make working conditions miserable; everyone has to be buckled in while the van is moving, so some of the speedup would be countered by the driver having to stop to put toppings on; all that heavy equipment would bring gas mileage down to single digits; powering the oven would require a large generator of some sort, meaning more gas; the company would have to maintain a fleet of huge, complicated vans instead of letting employees drive and maintain their own cars. Totally impractical, I was told.
And now someone’s doing it. I guess they’ve got the kinks worked out, though the article doesn’t have as many details as I’d like.
Today is March 14, or 3.14—Pi Day! Celebrate by calculating the surface area of a pie (πr2) and then eating it!
Oh man, this is for me. Dagoba Organic Chocolate brand Xocolatl is a blend of authentic hot chocolate, cinnamon, and chile peppers. $8.60 for 12 ounces.
I’ve never been a drinker. Even when I spent three months in France I only drank once—and that was because the chef at a restaurant in Troyes brought a bottle of Calvados to the table and sat down to drink with us. It’s not that I’m opposed to it on moral grounds; I’ve just never cared for the taste of alcohol.
Recently, though, I’ve branched out a little bit. On my birthday last year I had a Guinness and a Blackthorn cider—and, at the instigation of the friends who took me out, a shot of vodka, which tasted like rubbing alcohol to me. And recently I’ve had a few glasses of red wine—mainly Pinot Noir, at first inspired by Sideways. I find I like red wine more than white wine, possibly for the same reason I prefer Guinness to lager: the deeper and richer the drink, the less I taste the alcohol. Pinot Noir in particular has a sort of peppery, spicy flavor that I quite like.
But I’m far from a connoisseur. Wine terminology confuses and annoys me. I’ve been a tea nut for several years, and tea terminology can be pretty baroque at times (single-estate first flush tippy golden flowery orange pekoe Darjeeling, anyone?), but it’s nothing to what the wine snobs dream up. As an example, take a look at the words used to describe flavors and aromas. Tea tasters use words like “grassy,” “herbaceous,” “bright,” and “astringent.” Some might come as a bit of a surprise, like “cheesy” or “stewed,” but it’s not hard to imagine what characteristics the taster is referring to. But look at the terms used by certain wine tasters—some excellent examples of which can be found in Stephen Shapin’s article “Hedonistic Fruit Bombs” for the London Review of Books. Blue-tinged? Lanolin? And what’s all this about helicopters? I mean, I can be as snobby as the next guy, but I call BS here. And I’m not drinking anything that reminds someone of “cat’s pee.”
I like the article, though—especially the bits about one wine critic becoming so influential that he shapes the entire industry. Even though this particular critic seems relatively reasonable (at least I can imagine what a “fruit bomb” would be like), the loss of diversity in subjectively judged markets like wine (or movies, literature, music, etc.) always makes us culturally poorer.
It always amazes me that people who would never dream of asking someone, “Why are you so fat?” have no trouble asking why I’m so skinny. But at least now I have an answer: apparently, it’s because I fidget a lot.
