It's come to my attention, from my own self, that I've been drinking whisk(e)y quite a bit these days. Means I've been writing quite a bit. As is my cold weather routine. So be it.
This afternoon I posted a very tongue-in-cheek birthday present bit on the Facegram. It had a picture of a nicely marbled porterhouse steak, a bottle of my favorite Scotch whisky, Detective Comics 164, and a DeWalt Sawzall. I feel like talking about these objects. * Marbled Porterhouse Steak: The best piece of meat I've ever had was arguably this. I've had some fantastic cuts that were done adequately, some so-so cuts that were done amazingly, and some poor cuts that were done as well as they could've been. When I think about my favorite meals, meat is what I'm thinking of. My favorite meal is not an artistic piece with foam and ingredients I've never heard of that can fit in my palm. I can appreciate that, in a sense, but not my bag. Pasta, seafood, burgers--all terrific. But my last meal, God willing, will be a porterhouse steak cooked perfectly rare. Top 3 meals: 1) Braised beef short ribs in red wine and beef broth. My wife and I make this on occasion, and it always delivers. One of those dishes that we finally perfected with the help of a few different recipes, and if die right after eating this meal someday, along with a kiss from my wife, I'm okay with that. The next two are particulars... 2) Snake River Farms Ribeye, reverse seared, in Montana. Yes, the atmosphere surrounding a delicious meal certainly helps the taste. In this case, me and my best lads were in nowhere Montana after a day of fishing and decided to treat ourselves. We happened upon a swell grocery establishment that carried the sought after Snake River Farms beef cuts. I opted for the $29/lb ribeye, which I didn't flinch at when purchasing. One, their reputation demands respect, thus the price tag. Two, I had been drinking. I opted to forego the gas grill at our quarters, unlike my compadres, and instead seasoned it properly, and then set it in the broiler for a pre-cook. Then I finished her in a cast iron skillet with rosemary and garlic butter. Enjoyed it with a large tater, glass of full bodied red wine, and a glass of Balvenie for dessert. 3) Porterhouse steak purchased from Wally's Meats, down the street here in Colorado. My cousin, Ryan, was visiting a few years back. We used to like to hang out, and when we did, Ryan didn't really like to skimp on cost. So as a family and friendly gesture this time around, he purchased these exquisite cuts of steak for me to try and not fuck up. We also enjoyed several strong beverages, if memory serves. While imbibing, I made a fire in the pit, seasoned however I did, and threw those bastards on at some point. Throughout the laughter, the drinks, and the darkness, I somehow cooked these steaks that most likely cost my cousin $49/lb perfectly. I was shocked. And maybe that's part of the reason this serendipitous meal was so memorable. I paid little attention, but somehow they could not have turned out better. Excellent cut. I shockingly cooked it perfectly. What more? So that's where the bar is set. * A bottle of my favorite Scotch whisky: I'm not one to judge booze on price. I've got enough $15/bottle McCormick Gin in my veins to turn me superhuman. And I've been lucky enough to sample some pretty fine brown liquors, which is my preference. I enjoy most whisk(e)y, be it Bourbon, Scotch, Irish, American, Canadian, or Rye. Those are capitalized because they are very, very proper nouns. Most whiskey requires an "e" in its name...Scotch whisky does not. Doesn't need a fucking "e". That's one reason it's my favorite. And I haven't had any better than The Balvenie Double Oak. Affordable, if you like whisk, and just amazingly delicious. I've been drinking Scotch since I was in my early 20s, while on work trips wearing ties and shit. My go-to was always a house burger, rare, blue cheese on the side, and a glass of Johnny Walker Black or Red. Hmm, that's what's in my glass as I write, right this minute. Fishing trips with the boys eventually turned into whisk(e)y trips, as we all brought different bottles to sample and possibly devour. Through the years, I've had some incredible Macallen, Genlivet, Lagavulin, and plenty of others. Lately, I've become fond of Bourbon, American, and Rye. All different, all delicious. On my dying day, please give me a glass...a bottle of Balvenie Double Oak. I can afford it sometimes, it's smooth as a preacher's dick, and pairs well with being fucking awesome. Thank you. * Detective Comics 164: I collect comic books. I prefer old comic books. I'm dearly attracted to the pop art, the history, the characters, the smell, and nearly everything that it ensues. I'm not attracted to the blood-thristy dealers that have driven the market through the roof as of late...but if there are buyers, then fuck. This particular comic, which I just kind of randomly chose as one I'd like to add to the modest collection, was $88 just a couple years ago. I thought the price was too high, so I balked. Now we're looking at $600 or so. Shows you how the market has skyrocketed. Hell, first Spider-Man just sold for a record $3.6mil. Comics aren't for kids these days. Fuck you, kids. My reasoning for wanting this book is simple: it has a beautiful cover that I would like to look at while in my basement. Ok, nerd-basement. Judge if you like. * DeWalt Sawzall: I just like sawing shit. And yellow. That's the breakdown on things I like. Things, that if you still gave a shit about your birthday, and still received gifts, would be relevant. For whatever it's worth, I typically don't mention my birthday...but this year I am. Not sure why. Maybe I'm looking for a break from the ordinary...maybe I'm struggling with 50 around the corner...maybe I'd just like some fucking presents. Who knows, right? I'm tired of writing. Going to cash in. My birthday is January 8th, this Saturday. Just sayin'. Good night.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorI am Earl. Archives
May 2024
|