Dear Vincent Price,

Take good care of him.

Below is a repost of Andrew Sullivan's thoughts on our recently departed pop hero. I couldn't agree with his sentiments more.

RIP Michael.

There are two things to say about him. He was a musical genius; and he was an abused child. By abuse, I do not mean sexual abuse; I mean he was used brutally and callously for money, and clearly imprisoned by a tyrannical father. He had no real childhood and spent much of his later life struggling to get one.
He was spiritually and psychologically raped at a very early age - and never recovered. Watching him change his race, his age, and almost his gender, you saw a tortured soul seeking what the rest of us take for granted: a normal life.

But he had no compass to find one; no real friends to support and advise him; and money and fame imprisoned him in the delusions of narcissism and self-indulgence. Of course, he bears
responsibility for his bizarre life. But the damage done to him by his own family and then by all those motivated more by money and power than by faith and love was irreparable in the end. He died a while ago. He remained for so long a walking human shell.

I loved his music. His young voice was almost a miracle, his poise in retrospect eery, his
joy, tempered by pain, often unbearably uplifting. He made the greatest music video of all time;
and he made some of the greatest records of all time. He was everything our culture worships; and yet he was obviously desperately unhappy, tortured, afraid and alone.

I grieve for him; but I also grieve for the culture that created and destroyed him. That culture is ours' and it is a lethal and brutal one: with fame and celebrity as its core values, with money as
its sole motive, it chewed this child up and spat him out.

I hope he has the peace now he never had in his life. And I pray that such genius will not be so
abused again.

- Andrew Sullivan

Hey Cowboy...

Steak Carpaccio makes me want to ride someone (that I care about) reverse cowgirl.

To me, a meal of raw meat is one of the few things that make me want to shout expletives at the top of my lungs. That primal feeling you get when you tear off a bite; marbleized fats melting and flavor developing on your tongue.

I was a vegetarian for 6 years, 2 of which I spent as a strict vegan. It was a move I made as a teenager in an attempt to be even more difficult to my parents and later developed into a half-hearted “animal rights” platform, thanks to an activist boyfriend.

It was in my next relationship where I rediscovered a passion for food. This boyfriend appreciated fine ingredients and refined flavors like none of my typical meat-and-potatoes friends. It was while watching him prepare a dish of steak tartare that I caved. Tartare is the meatiest of meat dishes: a hash of minced steak, egg, Worchester sauce and onion served raw on crackers. My introduction back to the world of carnivores was with raw beef and I can say with absolute certainty, that with that bite of knowledge, my relationship with food changed forever.

Years later, at a small, gourmet grocery store in Detroit I came across an amazing deal on Kobe beef. A meat that usually is way out of my tiny, tiny advertising budget was now a smarter move than my typical investment in two packs of Oscar Meyer franks. I asked the man behind the counter, “Is there something wrong with it?” to which he earnestly answered, “No, we just want people to try it”

I was sold. Bought two pounds of richly, thoroughly marbleized, premium Kobe beef for an unheard of $8. Headed home to Chicago to figure out what I could do with it.

I figured that, with such a fine piece of meat, I’d want to do something really straightforward - that would allow it to stand on its own. No heavy cooking, seasoning, etc.

I decided on making steak Carpaccio, which I had never prepared before (but conveniently caught Alton Brown’s advice on Food Network about it and felt mildly prepared). Luckily, it was incredibly simple and remarkably delicious.

As I mentioned, the meat should speak for itself. Which means use quality ingredients - this is no time to break out table salt and pre-ground pepper.
I served it over a bed of mixed greens with a lemon vinaigrette.

You’ll need your sharpest knife and a sober hand. It helps to freeze the meat for a few minutes to firm up the texture. Cut paper thin slices of beef and pound it with a mallet (or other heavy object) to flatten even further.

Drizzle a bit of fine olive oil salt and pepper the thinly sliced meat.

Squeeze the juice of two ripe lemons into equal parts olive oil, add salt and pepper. Whisk vigorously.

Toss rinsed mixed greens in the dressing.

Serve on the bed of mixed greens with a few shavings of pecorino romano to make it gorgeous.

I served my Carpaccio with roasted fingerling potatoes with rosemary and olive oil and a cheap bottle of red wine (please see: advertising budget). The experience was nothing short of scintillating. Just ask my lucky cowboy.

How Crayons are Made

Start Wearing Purple

I've had Gogol Bordello on regular ipod rotation pretty much since I heard their album back in 2006.

Last night I went to their show in Royal Oak, MI.
It was INCREDIBLE. (The opening band, Man Man, was solid, as well.)

Catch.

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