Friday, May 25, 2012

Surreal.




















Started the week drawing a drunken drinking goose.




















I saw this awesome chewed gum holder waiting for the bus at Armitage and Halsted. It's scary to know that swallowing gum may yield this kind of result in your body. No black gum...go figure.


























Went to Beauty Bar for a bday party and saw a Fonzo sticker. I used to see this everywhere growing up and loved it. First character style throw up that was uniquely his. Super cool dude too, glad to see he still doing his thang.


























I dont know that it was about the beginning of May but a lot of parents had sex nine months prior. Here is Krysten celebrating her bday with a fire ball on the table.


























Good shit, a little strong but did the trick and made me want to go home and sleep after drinking it and this is exactly what I did. I don't understand the label but it did made me want to fuck a fat girl for some reason.


























Woke up the next morning on my way to painting and saw a pooping donut. I won't lie, I still want to kind of eat it. I don't know what that says about me.

  

It isn't the best, nor is it the worst. CZR painted a hybrid turkey crow thing while I painted some kind of slug, tonsil looking thing coming out of my R. It was mother's day so I gave her a little shout out in Korean. This may be the worst present to a mother ever. I'm a pretty terrible son.


Went to hang with the homie Joey Potts for his 78th bday or whatever (another fucking May birthday son) at the Bullhead Cantina in Humboldt. Been hearing a lot of good reviews for their extensive taco list. 


It's cool that they have so many options and all but I feel like it can really get to be hit or miss when you're messing with so many fillings. 


I forgot what I got but the most memorable was the roasted beet taco. Not too shabby along with the handmade rustic looking tortilla. I liked it. I wasn't slapping donkeys or Mariachi dancing when I ate it, but it was good for what it was. 


Plus I loved the fact that there are no pretentions here, just a bar with some random shit up, a cool ceiling, neighborhood folk and a floor that reflects more light than a caucasian booty. 


The drunk of the hour. I'm used to seeing the back of his head. 


Got to check out the Northdown and hang with Mando and Trino. Been meaning to check this place out for a while for their exclusive draft list and decent selection of white people watching. 


This place is fucking huge. Around the corner in the back leads to what looks like a dream living room with pinball machines, a cocaine table and a nook to stash dead hobos. I had a few very good strong pints here including a Lips of Faith series from New Belgium, an awesome Mikkeller, and an equally amazing Evil Twin draft. I will definitely come back here on a Wednesday...Coke is optional. 



Mando and Crystal had a fundraiser to raise money for PAWS and Tit Cancer on what had to be one of the nicest days in Chicago...EVER. Guess who did all the prep, shopping, cooking for this? This is right after I found out that I had to leave for Boston from what would be an awesome party and turnout for great causes. I'm sure a lot of blacking out happened. 


This is the proper send off courtesy of Tooch. I would bathe in any one of these beers and let it fuck me in my ear. 


Fast forward 5 hours after cooking and slamming some beers with no shower inbetween. I felt bad for the dude sitting next to me. I basically smelled like a smoked homeless dude. I also got picked up in the cleanest rape van at the airport.


First thing I noticed were these douchey ass signs you hang on your door if you didn't want to be disturbed. This made me want to kick the door in and punch whoever was staying in the room...then I got to my room and noticed that every guest in the hotel had the exact same sign, so I just looked at porn and jerked myself to sleep.


After crying in the bathtub for about an hour, I got hungry and decided to "hit the town" aka ask the concierge where I can get some decent grub. He enthusiastically suggested the Parish Cafe.


Cool little gastro pub with like fifty sandwiches on the menu all created by different chefs from around the area. I decided on the Italian style sandwich named the "Burke."


It was your standard sodium filled panini. It was aight. The red pepper jam thing was pretty sugary and salty as well and adding salt on salt didn't seem appealing to me. I should have just ordered some bread and a box of kosher salt. What was cool about this experience was that I was literally the only guy in the corner eating by myself talking to no one and looking hella creepy, that and I had no pants on. 


Woke up at 7am for a 8am call. At least I had a decent view from my room. This would be the last I see of the sun until Wednesday when I flew out. 


Crew meeting before the first challenge. The scary part was that there were a lot more people involved. Coffee anyone? COFFEE!!!!


There was a lot of waiting around even after the first challenge. We were mic'ed up the whole time as well, so you better believe there was a lot of swearing and teasing going on. Chef David taking it all in stride. The two AZN's checking out a phone that their relatives made. 


Chef Joshua showed off this little beauty complete with raised pupils in case he needed to punch someone with his forearm. Solid dude, thick Bostonian accent and he did say "chowda" for me which was pretty much all I wanted out of Boston. 


Here is Chef Anne Burrell and Kathy ready to taste our disasters and tell us that we all pretty much suck. And this is pretty much the truth. Timed challenges without a clock is no bueno. And let me tell you that having to talk to 3 cameras while you try to prep, cook, and plate is no fucking fun. Plus the meat grinder kind of went haywire during this along with a slew of "surprises" that would make for great TV I'm sure...our careers on the other hand probably not so much. I basically looked like a home cook during the first challenge. 


Feeling super defeated and shamed, Chef Dave and I decide to check out some local eateries off of Tremont St. A nice trendy looking street kind of off the beaten path near downtown. I really did like the architecture and look of the town...the only thing I didn't like is how many curves and roundabout the streets are. Almost as if a child learning to draw circles did the layout for the streets. 


Went to the Butcher Shop where charcuterie and white people reigned supreme. 





It was beautiful. Simple and clean. My gout was ready to rage and my nuts were swollen in anticipation to get those salty gems in my salivated mouth.


Chef Dave who does charcuterie himself did the ordering as I would have eaten anything in that cooler. We had some duck paté, pureed chicken balls or something, cow cock, and a spicy soppressata. I don't remember exactly what we had but fucking christ was it good. Thank god I had my diaper on cause my vagina soaked my drawls yo. 


As if that wasn't decadent enough, we went right across the street to B&G oysters to get our seafood on. The use of space was awesome here complete with an excellent patio to really soak in the New York hating air the locals breathed out.



Awesome view of what should be an alley or someone's back yard. 


Known primarily for their seafood, Dave and I had to start with the oysters which was categorized by location and came with the usual accoutrements. My gout is ready to get its gout on. All the oysters were on point. All distinct in flavor, texture, and brininess. So fucking good.


Wanting more, we opted for the mussels in a spicy tomato broth. The picture is shit, but the mussels were just these beautiful smooth nuggets which made the PEI mussels that we get around here look like diseased 80 year old vagina. Broth was solid and spicy and I was basically ready to eat the shells after the mussels ran out. 


Still feeling a little stressed from the first day taping, we stopped in a local booze store and picked up one of these local gems. Drinking one of these on the way back to hotel seemed so right and was a perfect end to an excellent man date. 


So the next day is filming all day and prep which was going well for me until I had to leave the kitchen to pick up some fucking lobster. We went to famed John Hooks right by the harbor.


We don't get to see a lot of lobsters like this here in Chicago so it was pretty cool to see fresh happy looking lobster at $7.99/lb. 


And then there is this 17lb. lobster that is almost a 100 years old. Why would anyone want to eat old ass meat? Can you imagine what this lobster has seen and eaten during its life? I heard it needs to be rubbed down with Ben Gay every hour and fed mashed bugs. I've also heard it complaining about those damn young kids. 


On my way back, I got to see where they used to keep all the minorities back in the 80's. 


Second day wrapped up and fucking just stupid tired. I thought the first day was exhausting...this day would prove to be a pretty long day/night. I had to do a lot of thinking and math. I am not good at either math or thinking. I am not using my phone for porn in this shot. 


The Tam would provide much needed relief after taping. This is pretty much how my vision was. I am ready for a fucking beer please.


Ahhhhhhh. My kind of bar.


I don't know how to feel about this, but you best believe I tried it and you best believe it fucking sucked. That's like ordering a burrito from an Indian restaurant. What are you thinking Boston? 



Final day of shooting that started at 7am. This is where all of us are pretty much delirious and over the whole "TV" thing. I was ready to take one of those knives and throw it as hard as I could at a camera. 


A little break and its finally time to try some chowder...MEH. It was drinking a bowl of salty liquid butter and the island of mashed potato seemed unneccessary. 


Redemption would soon follow over at Jasper John's Summer Shack. Food porn in 3,2...


It went down like this. No holds barred, just suck the shit out of these shells and let these fuck you in your face all the way down. The remaining chefs and I really really needed a night like this to happen. 


The lobster pot stickers were okay but the bass and clams had me ready to shit, vomit, and piss in giddiness.


2.5 lbs of lobster, scallops and fried chicken. Plus we polished off two bottles of wine. Life in Boston finally got a little better. The night would end with overpriced drinks at the W hotel where we all basically looked homeless and reeked of food. If we were to end this whole experience on a good note, this was the way to do it. 


I did love the little walkways and side streets that made Boston really unique and colonial looking. I took this right before I would end up flying out.

The whole experience was surreal and super immediate. I loved all the great people I got to meet on and off set, particularly the great chefs that went through this with me. This experience would not have been the same if people were dickheads. I definitely want to send a shout to the back of house staff at the Met Back Bay, they fucking murdered it during service. I don't want to tell you who won or got cut until the show airs so don't fucking ask me.