« ich habe gesellschaft! | Main | the return of minor league baseball »

hitting the interstate

Some wise and relevant words on the subject of America's pastime:

The only "problem" with major-league baseball as a consumer product is that, with the exception of the Detroit franchise, most of these guys actually know how to play the game, and now and then you want to see some Keystone Kops action in the field. Happily, the problem has a simple solution: get in the car and proceed to the nearest minor-league venue. It looks enough like baseball to count as going to a game, but it's much cheaper than going to a big-league game (especially the parking), and a grown man is going to step on his own foot and fall down. No, listen to me -- it is going to happen.
In related news, yesterday was pretty rough for our valiant neighborhood Mud Hens.

Comments

Minor league is the business! You can prove this not only by going to a game (the business!), but also by watching Bull Durham (the business!)

Part of the problem with minor league ball is that anybody good gets called up. AAA is pretty decent, but double or single A ball is a laugh riot.

Why do I continue to check this site for updates?

Or

I continue to check this site for updates!

I continue to site this update for checks!

Will there ever be a rainbow?

No.

Does northern Ohio really get that many rainbows? Maybe you should instead set your sights on a snowbank.

I've had this done to my site so I might as well do it here.

I want to tell you all about a little dish I've come up with, which I call:

One Giant Nacho.

It was born of necessity one night when I had too few corn chips to make proper nachos.

So I laid a tortilla in a skillet and built a small pile of nachos on top. I then heated this at medium heat until the cheese had melted on the bottom.

Next, I put the skillet under the broiler for about a minute, until the edges of the tortilla were just about to burn.

It then went back on the stove to ensure that the bottom was good and crunchy, and then I sliced it like a pizza. It is chewy, yet also crunchy, in the style of the finest early 21st-century Taco Bell.

But by sticking nachos on the burrito shell, doesn't that detract from its name? This sounds more like One Giant Nacho and a Bunch of Little Nachos on Top.

I guess you could look at it that way. But the way the cheese melds the layers after it's been under the broiler, it's kind of hard to differentiate so it all comes through as One Giant Nacho, albeit one with smaller component parts.

Wasn't it difficult to cut through that top layer of nachos? Or did the cooking process, combined with the cheese, make those chips nice and gooey?

They were crispy to the point of brittle. No match for a pizza knife.

You've got me thinking -- maybe One Giant Nacho is indeed a misnomer. It is actually One Giant Nacho and a Bunch of Little Nachos on Top -- kind of like those scorpions that carry their young around on their backs.

Would it be better to rename the dish Scorpion Mother Nacho? I like the sound of that.

Scorpion Mother Nacho.

Scorpo-nachos? Smokin' Hot Mama Scorpion Nachos? Eh, I've got nuthin'.

Now this isn't to say that One Giant Nacho couldn't work. Just skip the little nachos and I think you've got something workable here. The time to get started on a patent is now.

Look, if you skip the little guys all you've got is an open-face quesadilla or a Mexican pizza or something.

I'm going with Scorpion Mother Nacho. I like it because it could also be the name of the leader of a biker gang, or a nickname that some burnout has given to a particularly bad acid flashback. Mexican food needs more dishes like that.

You're right, what we're talking about here is
an open-faced quesadilla. It can't work as a Giant Nacho. It's a complete failure on the conceptual level. It's time to go back to the drawing board.

I've been doing some thinking and I've scribbled an early blueprint on my complimentary Disney's Cars notepad. To make a Giant Nacho we're going to need just that...a Giant Nacho. No ifs, ands or butts. I'm thinking of a chip somewhere between the size of a typical pizza slice and New York-style with all the usual nacho toppings. It would be purchased by the chip and eaten like a slice o' pizza pie.

We'll all be rich as Nazis if this thing takes off. Of course, this will set the release of the ESP Nacho Maker back another decade or two...

Our car, Walter? Look, this is my concept. You want to draw up a competing Giant Nacho, you do that.

If you try mine, you'd see that it is NOT a quesadilla. It looks like & tastes like some kind of beautiful mutant nacho. I mean it when I say it. What I have invented is known as the Scorpion Mother Nacho, and I'll change it for no man. Get offa my cloud!

I'm getting really worked up, here. I might need to go draw up a new website. Watch this space.

Okay this is giving me the heebie jeebies --

this author has apparently written two books called "Mother Scorpion Country" and "Uncle Nacho's Hat". She has probably already arrived at the dish I call Scorpion Mother Nacho!

Now I'm despondent. Don't watch this space.

Ok, now pull over, I have an idea. I think Scorpion Mother Nacho is not the right name. I think what you want to say is Scorpion Mother-Fucking Nacho! ala Samuel L Jackson. But you can't say that because people who use the mf who are not Samuel L Jackson just sound like people who wish they were Samuel L Jackson, which is sad. What you need to do is follow the SLJ model and adopt a different word that he uses so that your imitation is less pathetic. If you do this in an appropriate manner then you will end up with Scorpion Snake Nachos! which are fabulous. (You must have exclamation points when you type nachos! or they aren't nachos!) Seriously! Also happy birthday Brandon.

Ahhh, so I've been kicked off the nacho project before it's even off the ground, eh? Well, fine then. If you can work out the legalities with Alejandro Cruz Martinez, you're welcome to the rights to the Super-Duper Scorpion Nacho Mother Father Second Cousin Super Macho Nacho That Isn't Really One Giant Nacho But Instead a Bunch of Little Nachos Sitting on an Open-Faced QUESADILLA Nacho. That's right, I'm still calling your Giant Nacho a bastardized quesadilla!

But the literal giant nacho idea, the one that would be eaten like a pizza slice? That one belongs to me. I will sooooooo do the sue if I see that one popping up on the menu at my neighborhood Taco Bell. My nacho, the one, true giant nacho? I shall dub it Nacho Enoromo Guapo.

Sorry for the lack of exclamation points, Ashley. I'm thinking "motherfucking" should be replaced with "goddamn huge."

You were never ON the nacho project!

What nacho project?

This has all gone too far. We need Olly to restore some order around here.

And yet, I can't seem to let this go.

Look: a quesadilla has two layered soft tortillas with cheese in the middle. It's browned on both sides on a hot skillet, but only lightly, so the tortillas retain their tenderness. No high heat, no broiling.

The Scorpion Mother Nacho scraps the gentle, coddling cooking of the quesadilla for some hellfire poison love. The Scorpion Mother Nacho browns that bottom tortilla till it smokes! The Scorpion Mother Nacho launches that tortilla to the Edge, and Over it. That tortilla is not the same, once it is squeezed in the piston arms of the Scorpion Mother Nacho. It is Crisp! Scorpion Mother Nacho!

Also, only one tortilla, no flipping. It is not a bastardized tortilla. You are a bastard you! All who deny Scorpion Mother Nacho should die!

Call it whatever you want but this Frankenfood of yours ain't no nacho. By incorporating a tortilla, you've negated its nacho-ness. It may contain a few nacho chips but it's something else entirely. Call it a burrito hybrid or a mutant quesedilla or just call that sucker a Scorpion Mother [period].

There can only be one supreme nacho and that's El Nacho Enoromo Guapo! Put those two in a ring and let's see who comes out with their zestiness still in tact.

*Bostezo.* Su "nahco" me hace soñoliento. ¡Oooh, tiene un nombre asustadizo¡ "Scorpion" ¡Bah! Machacaré su comida para mí soy el nacho más poderoso del mundo. ¡SOY EL NACHO ENORMO-GUAPO!

¡TIEMBLAN, PUTA, TIEMBLAN!

NACHO CHIPS ARE TORTILLA CHIPS! Every chip is a nacho chip and a tortilla chip. Every chip has two sides.

Topside-nacho + bottomside-nacho + topside-tortilla + bottomside-tortilla = FOUR SIDES.

EVERY NACHO-TORTILLA CHIP IS FOUR SIDES. FOUR SIDES = FOUR CHIPS. EVERY CHIP IS FOUR CHIPS THIS EQUALS CUBIC WISDOM OF THE HIGHEST SCORPION MOTHER NACHO!

No human or god can match Scorpion Mother Nacho's simultaneous 4 chips to El nacho Enormo Guapo Liar's Evil single-nacho lie!

What?

You are correct, sir, about the tortilla chip thing. Still, what?

What?

What?

Late last night, I made a new dish that I call: The Wrong Nachos.

My turn!

What?

Does Olly even know we're in here?

The Wrong Nachos is just a couple of soft tortillas with pepper jack cheese on top, kind of sadly baked on a cookie sheet for six minutes. The result is that the cheese melts and the tortillas are floppy and wet on the bottom.

WWB: Shhhh! You might wake him.

Danimal: So even though this new dish contains absolutely nothing nacho related you still seem fit to name it "wrong nachos." It sounds more like a Wrong... QUESADILLA!

Say, I created a dish last night and I've decided to call it Nacho Nachos. It's a steak, cooked medium rare, with salsa on top.

How does baking a tortilla in the oven make a quesadilla? Do you know what these terms mean? Do you understand that it is possible to make what you call "nacho chips" by cutting a tortilla into strips and then baking the strips for about ten minutes?

The point with The Wrong Nachos is that here I wanted some nachos, but I had no chips so I had to use soft tortillas, and I was too impatient to crisp them first, and it was sad and wrong. It's a lesson in the Wrongness of some nachos. It's got FUCKALL to do with any quesadillas which may be toasted in a pan somewhere across town.

From dictionary.com: na·cho A snack or appetizer consisting of a small piece of tortilla topped with cheese, hot peppers, etc., and broiled.

que·sa·dil·la
A tortilla folded over a filling of shredded cheese, onions, and chilies and broiled or fried.

So, if you top a piece of a tortilla with cheese, you have a nacho. Are we clear?

From dictionary.com:

na·cho A snack or appetizer consisting of a small piece of tortilla topped with cheese, hot peppers, etc., and broiled.

que·sa·dil·la
A tortilla folded over a filling of shredded cheese, onions, and chilies and broiled or fried.

So, if you top a piece of a tortilla with cheese, you have a nacho. Are we clear?

D'oh!

Let's take a damn poll if we have to but what you're going to find out is that when Americans think nachos, they think tiny, crispy chips, not big ol' tortillas. Tortillas are synonymous with burritos and, yeah, QUESEDILLAS!

Size matters. If I take a cow and toss some cheese on it, does that make it a steak? NO IT DOESN'T! Steak = small chunks of cow. Chips = small chunks of tortilla.

In both appearance and likely also in taste, what you created over the weekend was probably more closely related to a quesadilla than a buncha nachos. DEAL WITH IT, SUCKA!

On a somewhat related topic, someday I will eat a doughnut cheeseburger. I think I'll use two glazed doughnuts for the bun.

Oh sure, go all demagogueyey when faced with the actual definition. Anyway, I never said the soft tortillas weren't sliced up into smaller bits. They were! You should have asked. That's part of the definition of nachos: tortilla pieces with cheese on top.

Just because most nachos are made with crisped tortillas doesn't make a non-crispy nacho a nacho nullity. It's a nacho. It is, however, The Wrong Nacho: floppy and dismaying, like Bob Dole's wang.

There, I said "Bob Dole's wang." It's really time somebody intervened here.

I'm skeptical. Why weren't you more forthcoming with this information to begin with? This should have been mentioned way back when allegations of "open faced quesadillas" were lobbed at the Scorpion Mother Nachos. Your late breaking revelation is bold yet reticent, sort of like Hilary Clinton's vagina.

Are you there, Zerlesen? It's me, Brandon. Hmmm...I'm beginning to doubt the existence of Zerlesen.

Are you there, Zerlesen? It's me, Margaret. I can't wait until two o'clock, Zerlesen. That's when our dance starts. Do you think I'll get Philip Leroy for a partner? It's not so much that I like him as a person, Zerlesen, but as a boy he's very handsome. And I'd love to dance with him... just once or twice. Thank you, Zerlesen.

As web host am I allowed to restore order? Eh, probably not. But I sure can add to the entropy.

Fish + sesame teriyaki sauce + coconut milk = good

Sounds about right. Compare it, though, to a national politician's anatomy. That is the game now.

What kind of fish are we talking about here?

Of all things: that frozen tilapia that they sell for nothing at Trader Joe's.

I guess it's the coconut milk that's really throwing me for a loop here. Does such a dish go well with a pina colada?

That seems like way too much coconut milk. Then again, I think I mixed more coconut milk into the side of rice so give it a shot.

But do you bake the fish or toss it in a frying pan on 'ze range?

More important question:

"Size matters. If I take a cow and toss some cheese on it, does that make it a steak? NO IT DOESN'T! Steak = small chunks of cow."

You imply that a small chunk of cow isn't a steak, either, until it has some cheese tossed on it. Did you mean this? Is steak not steak until it has cheese on top? If it's gorgonzola, I like the sound of that.

Oh, baking of course. Too much oozing otherwise. In fact you could probably do it "en papillon" as our French friends would say. But I just do it in foil. Salt and pepper tilapia fillets, cover with sesame teriyaki sauce, spoon in a couple of tablespoons of coconut milk. Bake in 400 degree oven for 30 - 45 minutes. Eat over rice with veggies. Yum.

But Kenny, isn't tilapia basically known all around town as the fish that is ass?

Yes, which makes the tastiness of the dish that more surprising. Especially the Trader Joe's stuff which has probably been sitting around frozen since dirt was young.

Also, to fan the flame: small chunks of cow (depends of course how you define "small") can also be (but not limited to): bottom round, chuck, shank, brisket, blade roast, ribs, tenderloin, top round, rump roast, foreshank, and, hell, even cow heart.

Well, of course, but let's be ceteris paribus about this.

Keep in mind that most of these replies are written, oftentimes, on the fly in crowded, cubicle hell. Yeah, that's my excuse. Take it or leave it.

Plop "Heinz 57" in place of "cheese" and that statement should make a lot more sense. As for tiny pieces of animals, I just learned that one local market here in Portland sells pig uteruses for human consumption. Yummy!

I can't cook. I have never once purchased a fish filet, of any kind, to prepare myself. My oven frightens me.

This is why Danimal's inevitable defeat at the Nacho Cook-Off is going to be all the more sweet.

Who's going to judge the thing? We need impartial nacho jurors.

I suggest Alton Brown, the dead corpse of Julia Child, and Alfred Brendel.

Yeah, but realistically . . . Kenny, would you be willing to judge such an event when you're in town?

I would be honored, sir. I shall bring undead Julia as well.

We may also need to involve Zuma in this. Kenny, undead Julia and Zuma. That's gonna be one tough panel of judges.

B: Zuma eats cat poop. On the other hand, he once barked at a jalepeno slice. He'd be the wild card.

K: No need to bring along undead Julia. You're kind of like Alton Brown, the corpse of Julia Child and Alfred Brendel rolled into one. (That is a compliment.)

I've never met a dog that doesn't. My thinking here: if he turns up his nose at the nachos, it will be the ultimate insult, the equivalent of a 0 rating in an ice skating competition. If he spits them out or won't go near them, there will be no way to recover, even if Kenny gives them a 10.

And what if he barks at the nachos? What then?

I hadn't thought of that. Your dog barks at nachos? If he does, I guess we could overlook it, unless he's willing to explain himself by writing his thoughts down on paper or by hiring an interpreter. It will all come down to this: will he eat the nachos?

Or maybe we should get a cat to do it.

He might bark at nachos. Like I said, once barked at a jalepeno slice, after trying to eat it.

Good luck getting a cat to do anything.

Ok, so pets on the panel of judges wouldn't be a good idea. Maybe we could get Horatio Sanz to fill that third slot. He isn't doing much these days.

On the other hand, would any of us want to get within ten feet of the guy that co-starred in Boat Trip?

Horatio Sanz? Wow, where did that come from? I think he also barks at chili peppers and eats cat poo.

Yeah, you're right. He would be unreliable too. What semi-unemployed celebrity out there would know a lot about nachos? Maybe Sean Connery?

has anyone made a nacho hat yet?

Post a comment