"OK, honestly you can drink whatever the hell you want, but if you are going to drink green beer this upcoming St. Patrick's Day, you're>"/>
"OK, honestly you can drink whatever the hell you want, but if you are going to drink green beer this upcoming St. Patrick's Day, you're kind of a douchebag. Green beer is not only offensive to the Irish, it's offensive to beer. It's like wearing horned "Viking" helmets, or adding ice to your white wine (Note: Actual Viking helmets did not have horns. Horns were a drinking vessel). It can be done, but it's just not right. And the worst part is that most of the time the beer dyed green is pale, thin, flavorless beer to begin with."
From "Only Douchebags Drink Green Beer." Just so you know...
"The most famous of the raisin-and-bran combinations, though, was the one marketed by Kellogg's. It was invented at the same time as all the others, but Harvey Kellogg originally insisted on calling his version either Dr. Kellogg's Digestive Regularity Flakes or Harvey's Colo-Rooter. He was talked down by his staff, but was reputed to have flown into a rage, saying, "By my magnificent mustache, if the corpulent want-wits of this benighted republic cannot handle the truth over breakfast, then call my cereal what it is: Raisins and Bran. Now someone bring me my laudanum bottle and an enema, for it is noon and I have not yet crapped but half my body's weight."
Thus was Kellogg's Raisin Bran born."
From this week's Cereal Philanderer, talking about the shocking truth behind Kellogg's Raisin Bran
"Love it or hate it, St. Patrick's Day is once again upon the fair Emerald City. Maybe our nickname is the reason everyone feels so obligated to wake up and make green eggs and ham, or stop by a dive bar with their co-workers at 5 to drink a pitcher of crappy green beer before going home and popping a few Tums. While some of these may taste pretty normal or even downright good, there's something just oh-so-wrong about dying your food green and then forcing it on unsuspecting dinner guests. They just came for a little drunken green-beer pong, why should they suffer? Grab the garbage can and read on."
Just a taste of the "5 Gross Green Foods" we found for this week's St. Patty's Day celebration.
"Now there's a website that's just perfect for jerks like him. It's called the "Tasting Note Generator," and what it does is very simple. Click on the button and it spits out a perfectly suitable (or perfectly ridiculous) tasting note with which to amaze your customers and stupefy wine nerds. Some examples:
"Crisp but equally wicked Rose. Whispers of licorice, longingly elegant pepper, and bashful pear. Drink now through 2010."
"Astounding Dessert wine. Reminds one of seedless watermelon, American-oaked herbs, and a modicum of fir. Drink now through Christmas."
The widget also has an option where it'll spit out ridiculous lines like "Remarkable almost smoked Gewurztraminer. Whispers of frosted pop-tart, corpulent lamb shank and traces of fig newton" or "Raw but supple Gamay. Aromas of poi, meandering pork rind and perceptable cheap gin. Drink now through Tuesday."
A few samples from the Tasting Note Generator, my new favorite toy of the week.
"1. Pioneer Square: The loophole-laden beer ban in Pioneer Square is insubstantial, to say the least, much like taste of O'Doul's.
2. Ballard: Is there a beer out there with the flavor of gentrification? Depending on whom you talk to, several beers seem indicative of Ballard--Kokanee for the fishermen, Maritime's Nightwatch for condo-dwellers--but we're sure that Ballardites will drink anything that goes with plaid.
3. Capitol Hill: The Elysian Brewing Co.'s "Loser." The tasting notes read "...street smart but not athletic," and the beer's slogan is, "Corporate Beer Sucks."
4. SODO: The slogan for Elysian's Bifröst Winter Ale--"bold and lively"--aptly describes the crowds of Sounders fans who pack Elysian Fields in SODO to watch soccer matches.
5. Fremont: Lest you ever forget that Fremont is "the center of the known universe," take a sip of the Fremont Brewing Co.'s "Universale Ale" and you'll know what they're talking about. Better still, knock back two or three quick, and hopefully you'll be mellow enough to not punch the Fremontoid on the next stool over when he starts spouting off about the wonderfulness of living La Vida Fremont."
From our illustrated wrap-up of the perfect beer for nearly every neighborhood in the city, "Drink Your Way Through Seattle, One Beer at a Time"
"Those two English guys who previously did Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz sure love our American genre movies. Zombies, cop flicks, and now sci-fi. And not just science fiction in general, which can come in hard, violent, and Philip K. Dick flavors. They specifically love the sentimental '80s and '90s variety of American sci-fi, where aliens are cuddly and scared and don't want to eat you. Beginning, of course, with E.T. Simon Pegg and Nick Frost aren't just students of our movie culture, they're cheeky re-enactors; they can't sort out the love from the lampoon. Much as they want to mock our overly broad cinematic gestures (Spielbergism, for shorthand), they want to cry at them, too. Their double positioning is clear from the outset of Paul, which begins and ends at Comic-Con. The two play a pair of sci-fi dorks, one an author and the other an artist, who drive a rented RV on a Southwestern U.S. tour of Area 51 and its environs. And there, on their quintessentially American road trip, they meet someone even more foreign to America than they are: Paul, the wise, sarcastic extraterrestrial who smokes (tobacco and pot), loves junk food, and just wants to go home..."
A burger from Dick's and a movie about a cuddly, pot-smoking alien--the perfect way to close out the week.