Lightning Crashes

Photo: Phil McGrew

This stunning picture of multiple lightning strikes atop the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge is going to make the photographer an overnight, international sensation.  And for good reason: this is one of the most captivating, ominous shots of nature that one could ever hope to capture.

**100 Bites of the Bay**

If you live in or are planning on vacationing in the Bay Area any time soon you must check out this list of the best 100 dishes to dine on in our fine city:

100 Bites of the Bay

Is there anything missing (no)? What would be on your list?

**America's Top 10 Cities**

In continuing The Revolting Blog's recent obsession with lists, we will today tackle one of the more controversial subjects imaginable: regional significance. Everybody out there always thinks their own shit is the greatest, which is why it should come as no surprise that everyone wants to rep their own city as being the best city. Well, if that's what you think about your own city, you're wrong. Unless of course you happen to live in the place that is listed number one on the following run-down. The term 'best' is itself a controversial one...because what's it supposed to allude to, exactly? Greatest entertainment, most excitement, best food, best nightlife, classiest callgirls? Any of these can serve as a valid criterion, but really it's EVERYTHING, smooshed together into one impossibly big pile of awesomeness. Most importantly though--as I myself am hardly a 'city' person--these cities are ranked based upon how much awesomeness you can expect to absorb within a limited exposure. I am not trying to tell you the best cities to live in, I'm more concerned with concentrated doses of frivolity, and as such, the following rankings are fairly obvious (note--Vegas, shimmering shitshow that it is, cannot be included on this list for the simple reason that it's not a real place...if I included Vegas I'd have to include Epcot Center® and then I'd just end up getting sued by Disney):

Honorable Mention: D.C. (Chocolate City)

The Nation's Capital has come a long way since the War of 1812, when it was nearly burned to the ground by those assholes from England. The last 20 years in particular have seen an urban renaissance like few other cities in the country. A place that was traditionally reserved for politicians, lobbyists and crackheads, is now home to young professionals and a lot less murders. That's always good for business. DC has some incredible restaurants, and a vibrant nightlife--albeit concentrated into small pockets like Adam's Morgan and Georgetown. Bonus points for re-electing a mayor whose only defense, after being caught on camera smoking crack, was, "the bitch set me up!"

10.) Atlanta (Hotlanta)

One of the only things that makes the South worth visiting is this surprisingly cosmopolitan enclave sprawled across the landscape of otherwise bumblefuck Georgia. There are a slew of great beer bars and intimate music venues here that make Hotlanta a legitimate destination city and not just an airport layover kinda town. It's sad that the South will always be remembered as Civil War losers, because when it comes to home-cooked country cuisine, they are straight up winning.

9.) San Diego (America's Finest City)

San Diego has the best weather of any city in the country, hands down. It's beaches are superb, the streets are predominantly clean and Three's Company took place here for frick's sake. It is also home to one of the world's most impressive zoos--if caged animals is your thing. But what always keeps me coming back for more are the cheap and delicious tacos. Which is ironic, because the only thing discouraging me from moving here is their proximity to Mexico.

8.) Seattle (The Emerald City)

The birthplace of Grunge also gave the world some enjoyable music as well...like Jimi Hendrix and Kenny G--I kid, I just wanted to be the first person in history to put Jimi Hendrix and Kenny G in the same sentence. And again. Unfairly criticized for its remarkably shitty weather, the naysayers often overlook the breathtaking beauty of a Seattle summer. So what if you have to put up with 226 cloudy days a year? It's a small price to pay for admittance into one of the country's best music scenes. You're also rewarded with nearby access to some of the most pristine wilderness in the lower 48. A nice day in Seattle, backdropped by a gorgeous view of Rainier looming over the horizon will make you a believer.

7.) Miami (Little Havana)

There's so much more to Miami than just cocaine. Excuse me, I meant to say, there's just so much more cocaine in Miami. But don't hold that against this sexy city which is home to some of the best nightlife, most colorful architecture and excessively flamboyant people on the planet. South Beach is always rocking, the exotically gorgeous women are always dressed to kill and Cuban culture is on full display everywhere you look. So if you like mojitos, paella, coffee that's stronger than crack, and athletes that are cockier than John Holmes, Miami might be just the place for you.

6.) Boston (Beantown)

If it weren't for all those damn Massholes I wouldn't hesitate to put this historic city in the top 5. But the sad truth is that there's probably never been a group of schmucks so less deserving of an awesome home than Bostonians in Boston. Yet somehow Beantown manages to be an alluring place to be in spite of all those drunken douche bags that are always looking for a fight and whose lives are based almost exclusively around rooting for a team that has won two championships in the past 93 years. Sounds like a real uplifting existence. Always a top-rate college town, Boston is wicked loaded with loud bars and cheap drinks. It's a tiny place, which is limiting, but it's also the source of it's greatest supposed asset: it's charm. They also don't allow minorities within city limits, which any traditional (non-non-reverse) racist will appreciate.

5.) Chicago (The Windy City)

If it weren't for Chi-town, there would literally NEVER be a reason to get out of your car while driving from the Northeast to the West. The Windy City makes the midwest worthwhile and it almost lives up to it's inferior claim of being the Second City. But there's nothing wrong with being second best here--aside from some of the harshest winters imaginable. They have an amazing music scene, home to some of the world's greatest jazz and blues musicians, and these people know how to fucking eat! It's also a much cleaner and far nicer city than most others its size.

4.) New Orleans (The Big Easy)

This continually-running party known as a city is one of the most thoroughly entertaining places on the planet. If you're not having a good time in 'N'awlins' you're either Mormon, or you're getting mugged. Rarely in your life do you encounter such a large group of people so fervently devoted to letting the good times roll. Even though it hosts two of the country's most outrageous parties--in Mardi Gras and Jazz Fest--you can stumble into the French Quarter on any given night of the year and expect to find incredible live jazz, retardedly strong booze drinks and scantily clad women. It's America's least American city in all the right ways.

3.) San Francisco (Fog City)

SF is hand's down one of the most picturesque cities in the world. Built atop a narrow peninsula of rolling hills sandwiched between breathtaking bay and majestic ocean, San Fran is so much more than just a pretty postcard. The second most densely populated city in the country packs an impossibly powerful punch, with an incredibly diverse array of inhabitants and irrefutable cultural significance. It houses the country's best beer, wine, marijuana and restaurant scenes, squishing them all into a city of well under one million people.

2.) Los Angeles (City of Angels)

Perhaps no city on this list has as many detractors as LA. But when people badmouth the City of Angels I'm always perplexed; it is literally thousands of different places at once. To say you hate it all--in one blanket statement--surely means you must hate life, in general. True, Los Angeles has a big set of balls for grouping together all of these loosely knit communities into a completely non-organic 'whole.' But I dig variety and I dig energy and Los Angeles has both of these crucial elements on lockdown. Hip nightlife, incredible weather and the best-looking girls in the world. What are people complaining about, exactly?

1.) New York (The Big Apple)

I apologize for the predictability here, but clearly New York is regarded as The City for a reason: it is the yardstick by which all other metropoles are measured...and all others come up short. Huey Lewis broke the news most aptly when he declared, "where else can you do a half a million things, and all at a quarter to three?" You like Huey Lewis and the News?

With a population greater than the 2nd and 3rd largest cities in the country, COMBINED--New York is a daily conceptualization of the notion that Bigger IS Better. It's also the most profound epitomization of human society--for better and worse--ever realized in the modern era.

The Pliny Premiere

Beer is absolutely delicious. Nobody would try to deny that. But imagine if you could find a beer that is more delicious than any other beer on the planet? If you live in northern California, you don't need to imagine because according to a global consensus the world's best beer comes from a microbrewery in Santa Rosa called Russian River Brewing Company.


Meet Pliny the Younger. According to Beer Advocate, this libation--brewed for only a few short weeks in February--is the undisputed king. Like the New York Giants of Beer. Rated even higher than the prestigious Westvleteren 12, a belgian ale that Trappist monks have had several celibate centuries to perfect. Russian River Brewmaster Vinny Cilurzo has only had about a decade to attain this same level of perfection and he didn't even have to give up sex in order to do it--in fact he has a very lovely wife.



Pliny the Elder is readily available here in the Bay Area throughout the year. It is without question the best Double IPA the universe has ever seen. Subtle hints of grapefruit and other sublime citrus notes balance out a complex flavor that dances on your palate in a delicate pirouette of divinity. I am drinking one right now, and I hope you are too. The Younger brother only goes on tap for a limited time however and has garnered quite the cult following in recent years. It's like The Elder on performance enhancing drugs. Everything that makes the Elder so insanely delectable and well-balanced is jacked-up a notch in The Younger, a Triple IPA

I thought I was being soooo clever when I went up to Santa Rosa on the day of PtY's premiere. Imagine my surprise when I was greeted by a throng of thousands that looked precisely like this:



People were waiting upwards of 4 hours to get into the bar and have a first lick at this masterful creation. I had to tug at some serious connections in order to get a backdoor entrance after only a mere hour of waiting. After all, if you're going for the backdoor you have to wait until the moment is juuusst right. Sorry for the buttsex humor. I just had to squeeze it in there.

So anyhow, we make it inside and it was like stepping into Shangri La. Ten ounce pours of Pliny are being disseminated by the hundreds. I took my spot at the bar and probably did not move more than a few yards for the next 8 hours. After that, any movement was a stumble at best. This is what happens when you start throwing back a Triple IPA which is nearly 11% alcohol. Each one is equal to about 3 bullshit beers.


Since this blog is dedicated to 'anything under the sun that's fucking awesome' I must disclose to you that this bar is also known for two other reasons: Pizza Bites and cheap hookers. Okay, I was just joking about the hookers part--when girls drink this much booze they almost always forget to charge. The Pizza Bites however are like less than 10$ for a large pizza that is cut down in to small bites. Topped with pepperoni and pepperoncini, the spice and fat is perfectly engineered to slice through the bitter hoppiness that dominates Plinies Younger and Elder. Incidentally, spice and fat is also a hallmark of cheap hookers.





Uh oh. This bar's almost getting too famous. Now they're on the evening news? After drinking this much booze, the last thing I need is to have network television cameras around. I'm glad they didn't interview me because I have absolutely no idea what would have slurred out of my mouth at a time like that. Oh yeah, now I remember. And now that I think of it, I was hoping this post would have more abortion jokes. After all, it's never too soon for a good abortion joke. In fact, it's usually just a little bit too late. Have you ever noticed that drunk driving is a little bit like abortion? Nobody wants to advocate it, but even if you're against it, you know you have done it at least a few times. Alcohol is usually the catalyst for both. There's not a lot of mass transportation heading towards or away from Santa Rosa, California. So if you didn't plan ahead with a designated driver, let me recommend for the future that people with crippling and debilitating alcoholism always make good ones. We all know how messy it can get when these people drink, so they best stay sober. They also can provide you with countless anecdotes of how alcohol ruined their lives while you are getting increasingly shitfaced. Now THAT'S entertainment people. If you are gonna drive drunk though I suggest staying on major highways and steering clear--literally-- of schools and/or hospitals. Remember, just as many people get pulled over drunk for driving too SLOW as too FAST. So don't be afraid to step on that accelerator a little bit.


Pizza.
Pliny.
Perfection.
















Up Next: Guilt-Free Recreational Drug Use

Meat, Cheese and Bread

What makes this blog different from all other blogs? Well this blog is sick. So fucking sick. It's got the best food, the best music and the bestdeals from the best cities in the best country. Best of all, it's completely free for you to sift through. So if you don't like it, you best keep your mouth shut because I am NOT the best at dealing with criticism.

I will try to keep words at a minimum as I know reading strains your eyes. Mainly, you will be able to feast your eyes on the great media I attach on the daily to keep this site as fresh as the raw fish at your favorite local sushi bar. There are only two elements that make this blog so very revolting.

1.) It is a revolt against every other blog that has EVER been published (more on that later).

2.) There will be grossness.

First things first, let's get oriented:

These are the districts of San Francisco. At only 49 square miles, SF is the second most densely populated metropolis in the United States. Go ahead and look at this map. Take a good long look because it's going to be on the test. We are going to delve into every last section of this City By the Bay until you are motherfuckin' sick of it--just kidding...you can never get sick of this place. But just to add a little spice to the recipe we will occasionally feature articles from some of those other cities. Places like Los Angeles, New York, San Diego, Chicago, etc...the boring old jive. JK JK JK. C'mon, I LOVE these places. I LOVE ALL PLACES. Well, except, y'know--Des Moines, Iowa.

Right now let's shift our attention to assorted combinations of meat, bread and cheese. If I were stranded on a desert island, I would only need these three ingredients--and these three alone--in order to survive. I'm talking of course about a raft built of bread and welded together with melted cheese and ground beef. But I could also make an endless supply of tacos, pizza and hamburgers. I love the West Coast, and I am from the East Coast. The East Coast knows all about pizza and even hamburgers, but you just can't score a taco like this when you're on the Atlantic Seaboard:

That's a late-night taco from La Crispita in North Hollywood, California. Somewhere off of Magnolia Blvd. I'd love to tell you the extract address but I was too inebriated to record any meaningful observations regarding my immediate surroundings. The only thing that caught my eye was that there were several Mexican laborers slicing fresh pastor (slow-cooked pork) off of one of those kebab things that you usually associate with shwarma and questionably hygienic middle-eastern fare.

(On a disturbing side-note: Fox News doesn't even know where Egypt is)

For one measly dollar you can indulge yourself on one of the most authentic mexican pork plates this side of Oaxaca--and let me tell you, that is a difficult name to spell. A very easy culinary treat to devour, and after a few bites you will already be standing in line for your next smattering of true mexican flavors. If only Puerto Rican food tasted this good then a New Yorker would never have to travel 3000 miles and countless hours to get here. I can't speak to that though because I never have and never will try food from a commonwealth. This means YOU, Virginia and Massachusetts.

Meat, cheese and a bread delivery system is a combination fit for kings. Head south of The Valley and into LA Proper and you will find that high end burgers are all the rage right now. Father's Office, The Foundry, Umami Burger. They are all KILLING IT right now. So fucking haute right now. What makes them work so well are those very same basic ingredients, rejiggered of course into something a little less mexican. Just kidding. Who do you think is doing all that work back in the kitchen?

Umami currently has 3 locations around LA city and this time we decided to hit up the one on Cahuenga in Hollywood with the hopes of being near Roscoe's Fried Chicken and Waffle House for desert. Special burger on the menu today was the Manly Burger. It was almost a challenge because if you didn't order this burger it must mean that you are a woman. Not that there's anything wrong with that--unless you're taking about burger consumption, then there is a whole LOT wrong with it. From our seat at the bar we could look into the kitchen and watch the mexican day laborer (I'm pretty sure it was the same guy slicing the pastor last night but I'll never be sure because all hispanics look the same to me) as he carefully and meticulously blended the ground meat into patties of perfection. It was yet another reminder of why the people that wanna outlaw illegal immigration are assholes--and probably vegetarians too.

The Manly-Burger consists of a dab of barbeque sauce and crispy fried onion strings dolloped atop chunky lardons of bacon.

Chunky.

Lardon.

It can't be merely a coincidence that this last word rhymes with hard-on. And whereas I generally don't like to mix and match my culinary adjectives with pornographic ones, for the sake of full disclosure I should tell you that fatty chunks of pork really do give me an erection. Is that bad to admit on a public forum?

They only cook their burgers one way: Medium rare. Do you even realize how bad-ass that is? Some (shitty) restaurants won't even serve you a burger cooked so lightly because they're scared you might get ebola or some shit. Ooooo!!! Liquified internal organs. Sooooo scary! Let me tell you something...viral hemorrhagic fever is a small price to pay for perfectly seared animal flesh, and you should accept nothing more charred than medium rare if you are eating in any establishment that has enough money to plunder punitively in a potential food-poisoning lawsuit. This burger made me so sick. Sick with divine pleasure, the type of which a vegan can only derive with a high-powered vibrator. It's so damn trendy to hate on LA these days and if you do, you're an idiot, because this city has better food and much better high-end hookers than your silly little podunk town could ever muster. I'm looking at YOU, Des Moines.

For today's final foray into the joys of meat, cheese and bread we mosey our way on up I-5 and into the Bay Area for one of the finest Neapolitan pies anywhere in the country: Pizzeria Delfina. The special of the day was broccoli rabbe with a bunch of other bullshit. Which--don't get me wrong--is a great start. If at all possible, I would hire a plumber to adjust my showerhead so that I could feasibly bathe myself in broccoli rabbe. I looked into it, and not only is it not possible, but my plumber refused to do business with me ever again. I'm fairly confident he's anti-semitic. The only problem is that a pizza doesn't officially have toppings on it unless meat is involved. So I called up my friend--hot crumpled italian sausage--and invited him to the party.

The results were nothing short of how amazing this picture looks. If you need a minute or two alone with this illustration, I'll wait.

If you live in San Francisco and haven't been to Pizzeria Delfina yet you are obviously a fucking homo and so you should stay in the Castro--there are amazing dining options all around that neighborhood, btw.

Wait a minute...this is San Francisco, we're all gay here. So grab a buttplug, preferably one of your own, and a taco, we're going cruisin'.

Up Next: West Coast Beer