ZING...

Perhaps the greatest line and delivery of modern political sparring:

Bentsen: "I served with Jack Kennedy. I knew Jack Kennedy. Jack Kennedy was a friend of mine...Senator, you're no Jack Kennedy."

Quayle: "That was really uncalled for, Senator."

Bringing The Heat

AJ's Mango Habanero 'Masterspice'

I like things spicy. Real spicy. Unfortunately, most foods and sauces labeled as such fall underwhelmingly flat, aimed at a country with a proclivity for impossibly bland tastes. I'm looking at YOU, Taco Bell 'Fire' Sauce. And Tabasco doesn't even scratch the surface, although I do at times appreciate its vinegary essence. Conversely, the few hot sauces out there that do deliver on the promise of their label often fail to bring any meaningful medley of flavors to the palate. 

Why does it seem as though I can't have my cake super hot and eat it too?

Spicemaster and entrepreneur Anuj Patel sympathizes with my dilemma. As a connoisseur of Indian flavors, he fully understands the pleasures derived from the happy coexistence of intense taste and insane heat. This is why he created his very own hot sauce, harnessing heaping amounts of locally-grown, organic habaneros which he enhanced with the unexpected addition of fresh mangoes. The result is his newly-minted AJ's Masterspice, a surreal explosion of furious fire and serious soul. By introducing the fruit element, your tongue is able to discern the hidden intricacies of the habanero. It is an unfamiliar exploration to be sure, because most sauces incorporating this infamous pepper, fail to temper the initial heat blast with such gentle precision. You'll find yourself enjoying aspects of the habanero that you never even knew existed.

A gentle dollop of this potent elixir added to your favorite dish reveals a subtle sweetness accompanied by the deep, devilish tones of habanero. When the spiciness drops, it drops BIG. But when used sparingly, it's nothing that can't be tackled by less than a spoonful of yogurt or cucumber sauce. 

To me, however, it's not a real meal unless you've broken a sweat. Hyper-heat can be a spiritual experience--meditative even, as you contemplate the pain, dwell in it and let your mind temporarily elevate you to a higher plane. That being the case, AJ's Masterspice is my new guru. If you see it around, pick it up (carefully, of course). With its stunning packaging, semi-serious warning label, and trademark orangish-yellow hue, the bottles are hard to miss. Just remember, you've been warned: if you can't stand the heat, stick with Frank's Red Hot or something.

Hella Habanero

Review: Muse - The 2nd Law

Courtesy of Muse

Few would accuse Muse's newest studio offering--released October 1st--as being their most groundbreaking work. Yet it surely continues the successful formula which they've ridden to the top: kicking serious ass. 

The gut-busting begins in earnest with Supremacy, a fitting choice for an opener with its guitar scratching, earth-scorching bombast. The stakes are raised almost immediately upon the introduction of a full orchestral accompaniment.  Cue the choir and it's clear that England's favorite hard rock act is setting the controls for the heart of the sun. All of the usual suspects that we've come to associate with the band are on full display, from frontman Matthew Bellamy's operatic falsetto, to the deep, dark riffs  that he so often whips into a frenetic crescendo. It concludes with a twang of whimsical arpeggio, summoning the listener on the aural odyssey to follow.

The voyage veers off-path in a hurry with Madness, their most recent single, and an obvious departure from their tried and true stylings. Decidedly more Pop than Prog, the track finds Bellamy crooning in a sorta futuristic R+ B manner. While not at all what I have come to expect from the power trio, the song is undeniably catchy, beginning with rhythmic electro-bass pulses and building upon itself with purpose as it unfolds. Slowly it gives way to a brief-yet-blistering solo where we find Bellamy channeling his inner May before culminating in a triumphant, emotional climax. It somehow becomes more profound upon sequential encounters. 

Courtesy of Will Ireland/Getty Images

Next up is a dirty little wallop known as Panic Station, featuring a full-on horn section (from the same folks  that brought you the legendary hook in Stevie Wonder's "Superstition"). Bassist Chris Wolstenholme slaps out a driving groove that provides a firm foundation for the intoxicating funk that Bellamy layers on top.  The brass, riffing repeatedly throughout the chorus, melds itself effortlessly into the sonic landscape.  

The mood shifts drastically as the album explores the symphonic grandeur necessary to prelude an olympic anthem. A swinging piano riff emerges, accompanied by the metered cadence of an extended choir and an occasional sopranic flight of fancy. Such is the pomp and circumstance that defines Survival. The official song of London's 2012 games is wrought with such over-the-top delivery that--if  the lead singer's heritage was anything aside from Anglican--we'd have to question wether or not he was putting us on. 

Chris Wolstenholme, Matthew Bellamy and Dominic Howard

The remainder of the album tinkers with the more common trappings of contemporary music, like the dubstep-minded hook in the otherwise pedestrian Follow Me, or the Radiohead-inspired polyrhythms of the melancholic Animals.

Save Me and Liquid State are notable entries. Penned by Wolstenholme and chronicling his struggle with alcoholism, they showcase a surprisingly infectious timbre. As impassioned as his delivery is, the songs are as memorable for what they aren't. Bellamy's trademark wailing has become such a fixture of the Muse sound that these numbers could be mistakenly attributed to another band altogether. 

The chaotic immensity more familiar to the band reemerges in spades for the conclusion of their sixth studio album. The title track is broken down into a two-part suite, as ominous as it is ultramodern. Unleashing a salvo against the insatiable desires of man, Muse continues to weave the thread of social commentary into the core of their music, as they have from the beginning. "A species set on endless growth is unsustainable," we are warned. Begging the question, 'where do we go from here?' If the melodic finale of The 2nd Law serves as any indicator, a rendezvous with post-apocalyptic minimalism is unavoidable. It's not a groundbreaking notion, but that doesn't make it any less provocative.

The Bottle Room

Tucked between the bustling shops of Uptown Whittier, a few miles east of Los Angeles, is one of the county's premiere gastropubs: The Bottle Room. Chef and restauranteur Tony Alcazar opened the place up just over 3 years ago, inspired by his passion for good beer and good food. When those components collide, it inevitably results in an abundance of good people.  After meeting Tony and his staff last night during their very special Night With Russian River, I was bombarded by that trifecta of awesomeness. 

First of all: the beer. I could go on for days about how Pliny the Elder is the perfect pint of beer, but you already know that. Luckily, in Southern California there are a handful of places that dependably keep it on draft. So instead, I deemed it more pressing to progress to a few of their barrel-aged sours which are far more elusive: Temptation--the sour blonde, aged in French oak--and the real winner, Supplication--a sour brown ale aged in Pinot Noir barrels from Sonoma County. Its tempered tartness overwhelms my palate with the pleasant pungency of wild yeast. The slight tinge of wine, a delicate dancing partner for the tart candy flavor that makes my lips smack. I could literally never have enough of this beer. 

Turkey Burger with Russian River's Supplication

To accompany this delectable nectar, some food was in order. Tony earned his pedigree in the kitchen working at high-end gourmet restaurants throughout the region. His menu reflects this expertise, highlighted by all sorts of inventive dishes and robust medleys of flavor. As he was describing some of the food, a wave of panic swept over me as I realized that I couldn't come close to trying everything I wanted in just one visit. Mac and Cheese, Belgian beer battered onion rings, flatbreads laced with bacon pineapple and jalapeño? Chicken lollipops? I don't even know what those are, but of course I wanted them. Yet when I'm drinking good beer on tap, something in my gut always steers me to steer. After I saw one of his towering bacon cheeseburgers come out of the kitchen, I my dining selection suddenly seemed a forgone conclusion. But Tony complicated things for me considerably when he described the intricacies that went into his impossibly juicy Turkey Burger. A 60/40 blend of white meat and dark, it's doctored up with smoked bacon, aioli, melted swiss, marinated mushrooms and fresh avocado. Although I never thought I'd hear myself say these words: "I'll go with the Turkey Burger," I certainly don't regret having said it.

25th Anniversary Toronado Ale

I was even happier still when John, the manager, offered me a taste of a supremely limited edition Russian River offering: their 25th Anniversary Toronado Ale. This wild sour is a bottle-fermented blend of all sorts of exclusive, craft-minded deliciousness. Celebrating the quarter-century mark of one of San Francisco's most beloved beer bars, it hasn't really made it too far outside of the Bay Area and I was super lucky to catch a taste of it.

After meeting all sorts of friendly homebrewers, we took our drinks out to the front patio, adjacent to the cozy confines of Whittier's commercial epicenter. We exchanged stories of craft beers past and made promises to meet up again for a bevy of beer drinking in the near future. In fact, it was such a warm, pleasant vibe, that I was invited back to a nearby house party shortly after the woeful pangs of last call.  An evening of old favorites like beer and burgers could only be topped with the introduction of new friends.

It took me a long time of living in this area to make a trek to the lesser-traveled streets of Whittier. If it wasn't for Tony and his craftily conceived establishment, I might not have ever known what this town was all about. The Bottle Room was worth the journey and as an all-around experience it's one helluva destination.

Wicked Pissah

News from around New England:

Barbereggae

"I hate how much I love this clip..."

Deli Melee

Courtesy of Food Republic. Certainly nothing democratic about their comical culinary assertions.

File this under absurd. According to an article from the so-called Food Republic, Los Angeles can lay claim to better pastrami sandwiches than the Big Apple. 

I think I understand what's going on here. Since most people have never heard of the Food Republic, they need to say something inflammatory and utterly preposterous in order to generate the controversy that translates so fluidly into web traffic. I see what you're doing...and I LIKE IT! Just kidding, I abhor it. In other news: Des Moines, Iowa is home to the best arts scene in the country. And the best pizza. And the best beaches in the continental United States. Now let's sit back and watch the clicks rain down o'er me!

PS-- Sorry for the extended hiatus. The editorial staff at the RB has been on location gathering information on some of the most pressing issues of the day. Stay tuned for articles of actual significance (pictures of scantily clad models) throughout the rest of the summer. Politics are heating up--if sleaze and corruption counts as a form of convection--and general economic malaise continues to permeate the globe. Hey, there's even an Ebola outbreak currently ravaging Uganda that could threaten to spread to the U.S. 

So much calamity to write about, so little fucks for society to give.

Never Surrender...sang Corey Hart, before abruptly losing his career to the 90s