Turkey in the Straw

This is Big Bud's Beer Can Chicken Recipe, by Guy Fieri on Guy's Big Bite. It's a TV show, on The Food Network. An American thing.

God bless Guy. The Food Network has been featuring turkey since the first day of November, and if you can't imagine, Gentle Reader, how sick I am of turkey by now then you have little imagination, and I know that's not true.

Americans continue to amuse me in new ways every day. Of course I knew about their Thanksgiving, but this is the first time I've been in situ and paying attention to their customs. (Last year, I skipped town with Jack to hang with fellow Canadians.)

What amuses me today is what a big deal they make about turkey. How much they claim to love it. If they love it so much, why do they eat it only once a year?

Me, I'm making a big ass chicken with a beer in its ass, and Sparky's coming over to help me eat it. I'll post pictures of this endeavor later.

LATER

It's much later, as a matter of fact. Two days later. I needed all day yesterday to recover from Thursday's cooking experience. The chicken was awesome, as was the beer. Perhaps there might have been a bit too much of the latter. Perhaps that's the reason I'll have to renege on my promise of photos. I took them yes, but they are in focus, not so much.

More coffee, please!

Roll out the barrel

Pinky is helping me make spätzle because I'm going to an Oktoberfest party tonight at my new friend Anna's house, and I know what you're thinking, Gentle Reader, so I won't say it.

Well, OK, maybe I will. It's November. Yes, I know.

I Feel The Earth Move

I was just about to sit down at my computer yesterday afternoon to tell you about my first California earthquake experience, when I had my second California earthquake experience. The second one didn't make even the local news.

The first one, on the other hand, made only the local news, judging by the fact that I got no phone calls or emails, not one, from any friends or family outside of California inquiring as to my continued existence.

I've learned that The Big One, in earthquake terms, is a mythical creature related to the One That Got Away on the fishing trip, which is to say, it never arrives. It's always in the future. The earthquake in 1989, the one that broke bridges and destroyed neighbourhoods in San Francisco, wasn't the big one. Neither was the one in 1906 — though it was big enough to warrant an elaborate centennial celebration in the City last year.

The earthquake that I experienced on Tuesday night, though it registered 5.6 on the Richter Scale and was by far the biggest one since 1989, was water cooler fodder for one day only. Two days, max. Britney Spears's daily escapades attract, and probably deserve, more media attention.

For me, though, it was a unique experience. You know how in movies, when they want to indicate slow motion, you see a shadow trailing a moving object? Sort of like time-lapse photography? Well, that's what I saw on Tuesday night. I was in my local, the bar in the same block as my apartment building. It's a two storey affair, with a beautiful brick wall that spans the height of the two floors. I swear, I saw that wall move in slow motion, with a trailing shadow.

Then a huge cloud of dust, or smoke, I didn't know which, billowed down the stairs. Through it ran a dozen or so people, down, then straight out onto the street.

Where everyone immediately got on their cell phones.

Fifteen seconds later it was over. I was still standing, frozen, wondering if that had been an earthquake. I know how stupid that sounds. So I called Sparky, who was upstairs in his apartment, and asked if he had felt it.

"Felt it? Yeah, I felt it! I nearly peed my pants!"

So good, it wasn't just me.