Technology these days has afforded me the luxury of enjoying myself in ways that I never imagined as a kid.  Gone are the days of swinging sticks or throwing apples at my siblings.  Gone even the days of listening to music or watching television like I used to, or even going outside at all. I get all the entertainment I need from a little 13 inch screen that opens into a vast world of endless data.  When I’m away from Lappy, I can still gaze into the infinite, via a tiny, hand held computer, myPhone.  The union of these two devices, the symbiosis, has given rise to a new genre of boredom killing pastime, the text message rap battle.  Through myPhone’s screen shot feature and the boundless possibilites of Photoshop, mrjeffmccarthy.com brings you the not quite first ever text message rap battle.  Think you got flow faithful reader?  Drop a rhyme in the comments and start it up, pup…put down ya coffee cup an’ see wassup.

This is certainly my most exhaustive Photoshop effort to date. This silly thing took at least five times as long to make as the gnocchi, and isn’t half as delicious. For this recipe I used Ile de France goat cheese, the second installment of product they wanted me to eat and write about. The last cheese they sent me I basically ate straight, so I thought it better to cook with this one. The cheese had a creamy texture and showcased that distinctive goaty taste. The flavor carried through to the gnocchi, and was exceptional. I liked this cheese better than the last one they sent, it had a little more personality. I also found the packaging more pleasing, this time with a picture of a goat rather than a picture of cheese. Still a bit flashy for me but a step in the right direction. This company is bringing some great cheese into the country. I hope some more of it finds its way to my doorstep. I chose gnocchi because I have always wanted to try it. I’ve seen Perez and before him Arturo making these things three times a week for the past eight months. I had the process memorized just by seeing it done so many times. I won’t include a detailed recipe because I’m quite sure there isn’t one. You basically knead the ingredients into a dough, form it into a wiener, and you’re good to go. You’ll have to forgive the penis humor, faithful readers, but I gotta be me.

After months of waiting, my manager finally let me have iPhone. I love this baby. A tricorder sized computer, mp3 player, movie player, and tracking device. A balls-deep, bad ass little piece of hardware. Sure, sure it’s way more phone than I’ll ever need, but to me, that’s half the point! Expensive? So, what! Just some more dollars towards the singularity and human augmentation. Seriously, I’m O.K. with it. If I had the ability to Borg myself out I would. Optical readouts and enhanced performance, biosoft learning environments, and bionic arms and shit? Sign me up!! I guess I got a little off topic there but this phone has possibilities. The available applications are beaucoup. I’m already reading the New York Times on the shitter, and the full sized touch pad keyboard has got me texting with 3G Of giggerram. It makes beautiful music. I don’t know how it does what it does, and I don’t much care. It is the most intuitive phone I have ever used. Within 15 minutes of owning it, I was tracking myself on Google Maps. I was reading webcomics. I was making light saber noises while I whirled it around.

Have you eaten at Ten-01 yet?  If not, why not?  We are making incredible food in the Pearl.  I am having so much fun right now, and seeing (eating) so much great food, and having such a great time doing it.  I love working at Ten-01.  Great food prepared and served by great people, in a great venue.  Come check it out.

So yesterday it was official, I quit both my jobs at Carlyle and Roux. I’m taking my knives, and I’m going home.   That’s right, in two weeks, I’ll be the new pastry chef at Ten-01. The brevity of my stay at Carlyle is new and weird, I’m not sure exactly how I feel about it yet.  I’ve certainly learned things there, I learn from everything, but ultimately I’ve just never felt at home there.  Leaving Roux is bitter-sweet, I gave my notice the same day I got my first paycheck and christmas present.  I’ve had fun there these past few weeks line-cookin’, but sadly its not what I really wanna be doing.  Working saute has taught me a new respect for the job.  Timing and temperature control, baby.  When you’re on, that shit is fun.  But seriously, anyone actually reading this…did you hear what I said?  I’m the new pastry chef at Ten-o1!!  FucK YEAH!!  I’ve finally made it.  I’ve  been waiting my whole life for a position like this to come along, and now that it has, I’m still trying to get my mind around it.  The restaurant is at a hoppin’ locale right across the street from one of my favorite spots in the city, Powell’s Bookstore.  The pastry station looks right out onto 10th avenue.  Everyone that works there is cool.  The Chef wants to teach me.  They’re buying me Gelatoo-D2.  They’re busy enough that I can use bigger recipes.  Every image has fit into every panel on every page of the comic book that is my life.  Finally.

We jumped up and bally-hooed when Michael Symon took The Next Iron Chef title this past Sunday Night.  I’ve become a huge fan of this guy over the past month.  Watching the series and reading The Soul of a Chef by Michael Ruhlman, how could I not?  His cooking is solid and his personality is just what the Iron Chef’s need.  I try to catch of Iron Chef America as much as possible, and Next Iron Chef has been a much discussed weekly event.  Judge Michael Rulhman always seemed like a straight dick on the show, but his book was actually really good.  It spent several chapters exploring the life of Chef Symon and his restaurant Lola.   Good reading.  I guess if you co-write The French Laundry cookbook, you’ve got a right to be a dickhead judge on Iron Chef.   All the judges were really objective actually, and deciding between Symon and John Besh was no easy task.  I really thought Besh had it there for awhile.  It was a good thing they had Morimoto and the other Chefs to help ‘em sort it all out. 

I for one am sick of sickness.  My immune system is in for a policy change.  I believe the more foriegn bacteria I am exposed to, the more likely I’ll be able to deal with anything that rolls my way.  Look at my dogs; they eat shit, lick each others asses, and delight in finding nasty dead animals to roll on.  They are never sick.  From now on I will go out of my way to drink from random water fountains, eat undercooked or raw meat, share drinks with people, pet strange dogs, jump in front of sneezes, high-five bums, and eat at least one thing off the floor daily.  The food catch in the dish pit will be my buffet.  My plan is have a catalogue of random bacteria so complete, that my system is never suprised by a new one.  YOU WANNA LIVE FOREVER!!!

In my commitment to randomness here at mrjeffmccarthy.com, here’s a  post about the route I take when I walk Jelly and Jam.  I turn right as I leave the house, heading north up N. Montana Avenue.  The reason I like heading this way is I like to include in my walk the pedestrian catwalk and its cool graffiti.  Including this in my route means I have to navigate the worst intersection in No-Po, circled here in yellow.  The traffic going east on Rosa Parks has a light, as does the traffic from North Montana.  The cars and huge trucks hauling ass from the overpass, however, have NO light, and no idication of when the eastbound traffic is going to get a green and cut off whoever is trying to turn down N. Montana.  I think the traffic analysts decided that the solution here was to make the “walk” signal only three seconds long.  That way any foot traffic would be in and out of there as quickly as possible, thereby reducing the number of casualties.  Coincidently, this is the same intersection that police cornered an armed robbery suspect a few months ago, closing off everything in a 10 block radius.  So I like to turn right, and get this out of the way first, and I can enjoy the rest of the walk over to Pennisula Park.  When my dogs need to check thier pee-mail, this is how we do it. 

Its a sad state of affairs when I have to event desserts in Photoshop, but right now, breathing is cost-prohibitive,  never mind ingredient shopping.  Anyway, here’s a plated dessert version of an Irish Car Bomb.  I found all the recipes on the web fairly easily, so I’m surprised that this hasn’t apparently been done before.  Learning the term New American Cuisine inspired me to look to what Americans love, which is of course, gluttony.  And drinking.  So why not use the flavors of your favorite party drink to create a truly decadent delight?  Hopefully I’ll get to make this soon. Guiness Stout Brownie, Bailey’s Ice Cream, and Jameson’s Caramel Sauce can all be found on the recipe page here.   I got the idea for the presentation from Charlie Trotter’s Dessert Book, which I fall asleep reading most nights.  I recommend serving this with an ice cold Gewürztraminer, just to add a refreshing element, form of, more alcohol!! YAY Gluttony!!