Remember Jim?

I do. Vaguely. An update might be nice, huh?

Meanwhile, the heat, my God, the heat.

Memorial Day was spent upgrading the property. Very little fun was had and stress levels were near record highs. The rest of this week will entail more work and cleanup after each twelve hour day at the office, which happens to be as hot as the fucking Sonoran desert today. I’m not big on sweating unless I’m actually working out or eating at Lindo Michoacan.

I’m a big fan of ethnic foods, even if the shits are involved the next day. I think it was Anthony Bourdain who said, “It tastes good right now. Of course tomorrow my bathroom will probably look like the one from Trainspotting.”

The only food I really find sketchy is Middle Eastern/Indian/Near East stuff. I’m not a big fan of curd or tea with butter and salt in it. Other than that, I’ll try almost anything.

A lot people talk about pairing wine with food, but a lot food really goes better with beer. Mexican, Chinese, lots of Asian food, burgers and obviously the German stuff. I’ll go out on a limb and say pizza as well, though purists will cringe. The problem with pizza is all the shit people put on there. No self-respecting Italian would ever put pepperoni on pizza. When that shit cooks, all the grease floats up all over the pie. It’s disgusting. And before someone says olive oil is greasy, it’s not the same thing. Pure olive oil—and I’m talking the first cold pressing, extracted without heat or chemicals, is the nectar of the Gods. Pepperoni seepage is fucking grease.

And while I’m at it, all that other shit people put on pizza is way out of line too. Ham? Pineapple? Meatballs? Is it really necessary to bombard your palette with cured salted pork products on a pizza? I think it stems from people not knowing any better. Most pizza places use cheap cheese, which melts funny and tastes like plastic. If you start with good ingredients a very simple pizza is incredibly good. The dough should be light and airy, not heavy. Tomato sauce shouldn’t be too spicy nor full of acid. The mozzarella should be of the best quality, preferably made that day. And on top, a very fine dusting of pecorino romano made from sheep’s milk. It’s that simple. If I add anything at all, it’s anchovies. Now that’s a pizza you can swill wine with. Garden variety, take out pizza? I can and do eat it, but I don’t think of it as pizza. I wolf it down in great quantities and swill plenty of beer (lager) to wash it down. I’m a practical man and it’s a phone call away.

With Chinese food I like beer, but here’s a tip for you. If you want to order wine with Chinese food you can’t go wrong with a Gewurztraminer. A lot of people think that’s dated wisdom but it works extremely well. I could pair dishes in a Chinese restaurant but with everybody ordering different stuff it’s a hopeless affair. This trick won’t work in China, but you’ll have other, bigger problems if it comes to that. Such as getting authentic Chinese food down without vomiting. Trust me, it’s not egg rolls and sweet and sour pork over there. We’re talking deep fried monkey lungs.

***Update***

So I’ll explain the beer with pancakes thing, which has turned up in the comments.

When I was in the 10th grade I snuck some St. Pauli Girl beer out of my house and brought it to school. Yes, it was a dumb idea, but we drank like four of them on the bus and looked very cool doing it.

I came home from school and my old man says, “Where the hell are my St. Pauli Girls?”

And I say, I drank them with breakfast.

He then says, “Okay. You drank German beer with pancakes?” Because I was allowed a beer or two in my house, or a glass of wine, so long as it was with a meal and generally in front of them. They were not party-ers at all, but they appreciated old world style. Then he says,” No problem. Show me the empty bottles.”

He knew exactly what I’d done and he knew I couldn’t produce the empty bottles. I don’t remember all the details but I was in a lot of trouble. However, I refused to come clean and admit defeat. So the next day, in front of him, I drank a St. Pauli Girl with my pancakes. It went on like this for some time, with he asking me if I was enjoying it, et. al.

In the end I was liking it.