Happy

I Don’t Give a Damn ‘Bout My Bad Doppelg

~ LobaBlanca

I warned you, denizens. There was a reason for my last Flashback Friday choice.

Truth be told, Joan Jett’s 1988 release Up Your Alley is my favorite album, holistically speaking. This probably stems from the fact that this was my first taste. However, I can find something enjoyable from all of her Blackhearts releases. I can even dip back into her Runaways years and find stuff to make those long commutes at least audibly enjoyable. All I have to do, though, is just see the cover art for Up Your Alley, and the Loba Happy-O-Meter is cranked to 11.

None more black, indeed.

This was quintessential Jett in many ways, especially in visual style: teased black rocker hair, black leather all around, kohled eyes, “come here if you dare” stare. However, I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for the cover of her 1983 release, Album. Atrocious jaundiced background aside, this has always struck me as one of her most “fun” covers:

Nothing better than a Jett in flight, eh? I’ve always loved this pose…so much so that I’ve considered getting the silhouette on a T-shirt. Plus, she’s decked in her trademark black, including the leather pants, but she’s still holding onto her punkier Runaways style with her red Chucks, that bandanna thing she kept going for quite a while, and some badass black leather-studded accoutrements.

I love this version of Jett so much that this is the photo I chose as the inspiration for my own Joan Jett costume for a rock-themed party this weekend:

Close enough for government work, right? I was pretty pleased with the overall look (although I’m sure there was more makeup on my pasty face that night than on an episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race). I thought about taking my Guitar Hero controller with me for effect (after covering the Aerosmith logo, of course), but decided that I didn’t want to run the risk of spilling anything on it. And there was much to be spilled. Open bars make awesome parties.

Most people immediately twigged to who I was supposed to be. One couple, however, did ask if I was Jack White.

Damn young people. Learn your rock history!

Of course, I did have a disturbing epiphany when I finally stumbled back home that night and caught a quick glimpse of myself in the foyer mirror. With my mullety hair and my thickly lined blue eyes? I looked a little less like an 80s rock star and more like a motorcycle-riding graduate of Eastland Prep…

Loba as Joan Jett Totally Looks Like Nancy McKeon as Jo Polniaczek

Take the good. Take the bad. Take ’em both and there you have just a part of Mi Vida Loba…

Reflections on a Golden Gate

~ LobaBlanca

As touristy and predictable as it is, whenever I go to San Francisco, I always end up taking an excessive number of photos of the Golden Gate Bridge. I simply can’t help myself. It’s stunning, no matter what time of day or what type of weather surrounds it. I’ve seen it damasked by fog, gilded by moon glow, and shimmering in the brilliant sunlight, and I’ve yet to tire of its beauty.

This past trip, I decided that I needed to mix it up a little bit…get a different perspective. I also wanted to visit yet another filming location from Vertigo, one of my favorite Hitchcock films. I ended up at Fort Point, right beneath the bridge and just as the sun was reaching a prime position in the sky for some gorgeous Golden Gate glow.

I would have liked to have gotten even further under the bridge or closer to the water’s edge for some of these shots. Unfortunately, the fort was closed and surrounded by a pesky security fence. Oh well. Perhaps next time.

Here, then, are my favorite shots, including one of a drippy-billed seagull who seemed quite amused by my impromptu photo shoot…

And, finally, here’s my favorite shot, which I took specifically as an homage to Vertigo. It came out so exactly as I had hoped it would that I couldn’t resist taking it into PhotoShop and turning it into my own “poster” for this movie:

Penning the End and Beginning the New

~ LobaBlanca

Happy New Year, denizens!

There. I was remiss before. Now, I’m…unremiss.

I wandered away from the lair for some end-of-season celebrating. Penn’s sylvan city of brotherly love played surprise host to the festivities. I haven’t been to Philadelphia since a high school field trip my Senior year, so it was interesting to see it from an adult perspective…and for more than a quick day trip.

Plus, they do seem to enjoy the New Year party mentality. There were fireworks twice: once at 6 p.m. Saturday evening and again at the midnight hour. There was also a dazzling number of people roaming the streets, adorned with all variety of flashing and flickering gaudiness, enjoying the various vice-fueled buzzes that would carry them into the new year. I was disappointed, however, that, yet again, no one tried to ring that big famous bell, giant crack be damned. Honestly, why no one’s tried to patch that thing up yet eludes me.

Let me in there…I’ll have her good as new in no time.

Actually, we didn’t engage in any Americana worship at all this trip (although we did walk past the Liberty Bell twice). This was more of a food extravaganza journey. The prime destination on New Year’s Eve was a tapas restaurant, Amada. They offered a special New Year’s Eve menu, which consisted of what seemed like a never-ending arrival of little plates containing all manner of decadence. It was an experience that shames any previous concept of the phrase “food coma.” The rest of the evening is honestly a bit of a glorious blur. All I know is that fireworks occurred again. Indeed.

Did you know that Philly holds a pretty much all-day parade on New Year’s Day? It’s called the Mummers Parade and it’s this insane blending of all sorts of traditions from all sorts of ethnic influences. Basically, it’s a day-long party parade that represents the blended ethnic motif of the city itself.

Not really being parade people, we avoided most of the Mummers festivities…although at some point we did get to witness drunken douchebaggery dressed in flamboyant Mardi Gras jester attire. Apparently, drinking starts early at the Mummers Parade and doesn’t stop until well after dark. Neither, unfortunately, does the douchebaggery. Needless to say, I was not expecting to encounter the aforementioned merry band of miscreants who, for several uncomfortable blocks, serenaded any woman within their visual range with the visceral chant for them to “reveal their endowments.” Oh, the shear poetry of it all.

However, inebriated revelry was nowhere to be found at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. There was, however, an abundance of lovely art…and a lot of furniture. There was also an entire section devoted to armor and weaponry, which I found surprisingly fascinating. I think it was the horse armor. How do you not love horse armor?

Afterward, we roamed the city, allowing its culinary redolence to lead us through its grid of diverse neighborhoods. Unfortunately, it being New Year’s Day and all, a lot of places were closed, including the place we wanted to go for what many have rated one of Philly’s best cheese steaks. The more touristy places, Pat’s and Geno’s, were both open, with lines that curled in on themselves like ravenous M

The Holidays As They Were Intendant…

~ lobablanca

Yes, denizens, it’s time once again for me to drop a little holiday geekery on you. I’m returning to my Trek roots this year, with a traditional geeky greeting from the Mistress of All Things Naughty, The Intendant.

Because, really, nothing says holiday cheer quite like an unhinged Bajoran wrapped in a pleather onesie.

Whatever your pleasure might be…whether it’s pleather or tweed or somewhere in between, I wish you the merriest of days, filled with peace, love, and joy.

Ode to…P

~ LobaBlanca

I love the Muppets. A lot. I’ve already talked about how Jim Henson is one of the greatest influences from my childhood. Seriously, the two things that continue to make me proud to be an alumna of the University of Maryland at College Park are: my three aunts graduated from there; and Jim Henson graduated from there.

I still haven’t made it to see the new Muppets movie. I’m actually quite irritated with myself over this fact. I haven’t wanted to go see a movie in a very long time, but frog dammit, I want to see this one. Time to finally finish off that Fandango card!

In the interim, however, I’ve been watching some of the YouTube videos put out by Muppet Studios. Two have quickly become my favorites. Two of my favorite recurring characters are Beaker and the Swedish Chef. Poor Beaker, always getting the fuzzy end of the lollipop stick, no matter what. All the horrible things that Bunsen Honeydew did to him, yet he continued to rise like some kind of orange-tufted, felty Messiah (ooh, have I offended the fundamentalists? Good). Even when he’s on his own, as in this video, he still somehow attracts an incomparable level of disaster that is equal parts traumatic and hilarious. Okay, that’s a lie. They’re just hilarious…

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VnT7pT6zCcA&w=640&h=360]

And then there’s the Swedish Chef. I can only imagine that he must be offensive on some level to true Swedes. Right? I mean, come on, such a blatant mockery of their native language must ruffle their feathers at least a little. Yet there’s something so delightfully underdoggish about the Swedish Chef. He’s utterly incompetent and frighteningly inept at his profession. But he means well in his attempts. And he botches his dishes in such hysterically horrifying ways…such as this attempt to make P

Caffeine Levels to Maximum!

~ LobaBlanca

Remember my recent coffeemaker containment breach? Well, as I stated, my replacement coffeemaker was to be a Cuisinart. And I promised to write a review once I took it for a spin around the quadrant a few times.

I’m a wolf of my word, denizens.

I ended up going with the Cuisinart DCC-1200 Brew Central 12-cup programmable coffeemaker. I chose the black matte finish because I don’t understand the concept of getting appliances in strange colors or stainless steel (especially when those things cost significantly more than the plain version). I don’t need it to look pretty; I need it to do its job. Besides, the black matte doesn’t show fingerprints or smudges. This is highly important to someone with anal-retentive cleaning habits (coughcough me coughcough).

Even without the bells and whistles exterior, it’s quite a handsome machine:

It also makes, to quote Agent Dale Cooper, “a damn fine cup of coffee. And hot!” Let’s have a closer look at the control panel, shall we?

Here’s the breakdown of what this beauty can do. The “1-4” button alerts the machine if you’re making a smaller pot of coffee. It then switches into “double heat” mode to compensate for the shorter brew time, which doesn’t allow most coffeemakers to heat the water to the same temperature as if you were making a full pot. I’m going to be honest and say I haven’t tested this option yet. Why would I ever not make a full pot of coffee?

The first knob is for programming the time and the functions that are controlled by the time such as when the coffeemaker turns itself on and how long before it turns itself off.

The second knob controls the temperature of the warming plate on which the carafe rests. This is kind of nice, since it takes into consideration those people who like to use a lot of milk or cream in their coffee. Or freaks who sometimes like their coffee black and screaming hot (coughcough me coughcough). The warming plate includes a small sensor that helps to maintain whatever level of heat you choose.

The last button is for self clean. Self explanatory.

I love several things about this control panel. First, I haven’t had a programmable coffeemaker in years, so to have one again is quite a delight. Also, I love the intuitiveness of the options provided by this machine. People who know and love a good cup of coffee made this coffeemaker, and it shows. I’ve tested it with pre-ground coffee (like the Trader Joe’s seasonal pumpkin spice blend you see in the first photo) and I’ve tested it with whole beans that I have ground to various consistencies. It has yet to fail me with its level of tastiness.

It doesn’t even take that much longer to brew a pot of coffee than my “instant gratification” Bunn machine (plus, it has the added “brew pause” feature that allows you to remove the carafe while the machine is still in brew mode so you can get your fix without waiting). Also, I’ve noticed that it makes a hotter pot of coffee than the Bunn did, and the coffee actually tastes fresher. This might be attributable to the fact that the machine includes a slot for a charcoal filter (and I also use filtered water to begin with). I also think, though, that after a while, the build-up within the Bunn’s reserve tank begins to filter into the coffee and taints its flavor.

Ew.

All that aside, though, one of the things I love most? The knobs and the on/off toggle switch. I know it’s silly, but I love their vintage kitsch feel. They make me feel like Tom Paris designing the control board for the Delta Flyer.

Wow. Of all the Voyager characters, I never thought I’d be comparing myself to Tom Paris. Of course, we all know who I’m most like, what with this worrisome coffee obsession of mine:

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G0NnpJb0NwY&w=640&h=480]

Oh, but I do love Captain Janeway. That transformation you see her go through as she takes in that first swallow of coffee? I know that transformation very well.

So, there you go. This is a wonderful coffeemaker. It’s not fancy or high-end, but it’s solid and has impressed me so far as a reliable machine that I hope will last me for many years.

Oh, and since I’m in such a rare non-surly mood at the moment, I’d like to also give a little praise to Renata Mastroti Pottery. See that gorgeous mug waiting for me to fill it with a fresh cup of coffee? I purchased it recently from a local craft fair at which Ms. Mastroti was selling her creations. It is a stunning piece, isn’t it? It’s beautiful and sturdy; the glaze is a soothing blue mottled through with the reddish undertones of the clay; and the band around the center is actually unglazed, carved clay that she somehow embedded around the mug. It’s one of the most delightful purchases I’ve ever made at this craft fair and, as you can see from her Web site, she offers quite a lovely selection of mugs and other stoneware.

Finally, the can of beans right next to the Cuisinart is Cattail, the dark roast blend offered by the Chesapeake Bay Roasting Company. I discovered this hometown brand while wandering in a lost, overwhelmed stupor at Whole Paycheck Foods recently and decided to give it a go. Last night was the inaugural pot, and it was amazing.

See? We’re not always surly and grumbly at the lair. We just need to be properly caffeinated 🙂

Stop Lion…

~ LobaBlanca

Some of you might remember that the last time I visited San Francisco, I made a pilgrimage to that greatest of live animal tourist traps, Pier 39, to commune with the bellicose residents there.

As I have previously mentioned, I returned recently to Frisco…and subsequently returned to those beautiful, belligerent beasts. I can’t help myself sometimes.

Here, then, are the latest favorites to make the cut from Sea-Lion-a-Looza 2011…

Here Goes…Porter!

~ LobaBlanca

I lead a rather compartmentalized life at times. I like it that way. It gives me a sense of order (and probably a false sense of control). Order is comforting. I can write whole reams of paper on the placebo palliative of order. But that can wait for another post.

Back to compartmentalization. I tend to keep the various streams of my life from crossing. Work stays at work. Personal life stays out of my office. Even in my online living, I tend to keep barriers between my Internet PersonalitiesTM. Somewhat. I do cross streams a bit, but it’s somewhat one-sided. It’s kind of like how Tom Jackman tries to keep his life and family a secret from Mr. Hyde. Which doesn’t always work out…but the Bionic EastEnder is there to keep things sorted for the most part, so it’s all good.

What the hell was I talking about?!

Oh, yeah. Compartmentalization. Here, then, is a rare moment when I’m letting Dr. Jekyll’s and Mr. Hyde’s lives mix it up a little bit…for a beery good cause. So there’s a podcast I’ve been listening to for a while now called Here Goes Nothing. It’s a show about…nothing. And everything. It’s whatever you want it to be, really…movies, music, beer reviews, rants, ramblings…the whole nine yards, the kitchen sink, and a partridge in a pear tree. What makes it a gem is it’s hosted by two of the most amazing blokes you’ll ever hear. Not only do I find Boz and Casey to be two of the hands-down funniest people to populate this planet, but I’m very proud to consider them both to be my friends.

Sadly, life has roadblocked their ability to continue to record Here Goes Nothing. All I can say to this is a very loud FUCK CANCER. So, to honor (and honour even) their efforts, their humor, their rants, their chemistry, and their all-around awesomeness, I named my very first attempt at home-brewed beer after their show. I even designed a label just for them:

I was trying to make it a label somewhat akin to the grunge-effect labels used by their favorite brewery, Brew Dog (WOOF CLANG), but with deep, bold colors and a strong “heavy metal” font for my heavy metal dudes. And, of course, we here at LobaBlanca Brewing Co. made sure to include the proper paraphrase of a popular Here Goes Nothing truism (“Now That’s Metal!”)for this particular beer’s quote: “Now That’s Porter.” Here’s what the labels looked like applied to my three bottles:

And now, in that fine Here Goes Nothing tradition…

Loba’s Beer Review: Here Goes Nothing Chocolate Maple Porter

As I already wrote, my cousin did very well in her beer selection for the home brewing kit she gave me, because I love nothing more than a nice dark beer. And how much more black could this lovely porter be?

And the answer is none, none more black.

I cracked open my first bottle and was very pleased to hear the hiss of carbonation. One of my biggest worries was that I didn’t add enough yeast to the brew or that I didn’t activate it enough. It’s not quite as frothy as it could/should be (you can see from the photo that there was no head whatsoever when I poured). However, porters tend to not be as frothy as lighter beers anyway, and I’ve also come close to perfecting a headless pour (do with that statement what you will), so that doesn’t really bother me all that much.

I know very little about descriptive qualities of beer smell other than to say this brew has a decidedly strong, malty, and familiar scent. The smell has the rich quality of a professionally brewed porter…another positive sign.

As for the taste, the first sip was a bit…sedimenty. That would be completely my bad. I ended up siphoning too low into the brew jug and I pulled in some less-than-appealing sediment that I couldn’t then completely strain out. However, I let the glass stand for about 10 minutes and returned for a second sip…which was a mouthful of happy.

Deliciously robust with deep malty undertones and the slightest bite of tanginess at the end is how I would describe this beer. I modified the recipe slightly by adding a cup of black coffee, so I’m not sure what effect that might have had…maybe the tang? I don’t necessarily taste the maple sweetness, but overall, this is a solid, hearty porter. And with a 6.5 percent ABV, it leaves you with a nice, happy buzzy feeling.

I know already where I made mistakes in the process and what I need to do to fix them, but this is definitely something I can see myself doing again. In fact, Brooklyn Brew Shop has released a holiday Gingerbread Ale that sounds too delicious to resist…

And there you have it: My first foray into home brewing. A success? Mostly. Amazing birthday present? Absolutely. Suitable tribute to the awesomeness of Here Goes Nothing? I hope so.

Next Round’s On Me…

~ LobaBlanca

So for my birthday this year, my cousin of culinary cunning gave me the gift of beer…with a twist. She gave me a beer making kit. Tricksy little cousin, luring me into the scary world of kitchen stuff.

Actually, it was almost as if she’d read my geek-warped mind. See, all summer long, I’d been reading about Wil Wheaton’s adventures in beer-making and thinking that it sounded like something that I wouldn’t mind trying. However, my life being what it is, I was going in about 50 bajorillion (yeah, I did just write that…what’s it to you?) different directions, and none of them led me toward researching my own kit.

Enter my awesome cousin and her frightening mind-reading abilities (more frightening for her, I’m sure, since it was the detritus of my brain she was stuck sifting through). Not only was it my very own kit, but it was chocolate maple porter. Could that sound any tastier? My heart might bleed stout, but porters are a strong second in my list of preferred beers, and this particular flavor combination not only sounds perfect, it’s also recently received the Wheaton Seal of Awesome.

It took me a little while to gather the required utensils that I was missing (and a little bit longer to gather enough courage to finally just dive right in and hold on tight), but today was the day, denizens. Today was Beer Making Day at the lair.

And so we begin...

The instructions claimed that making your own beer was as simple as making oatmeal. Wil Wheaton swears it’s true, too, and I know I can trust him. Why? Because he was in Starfleet, and they never lie (well, you know, except when they’re pulling tricks in their shuttles and end up killing one of their team…then they might lie a little…but never about beer).

Beer Oatmeal: Part of a Balanced Binge Breakfast

Is it really that simple? Yes. Kind of. A very time-consuming, super-fragrant, slow cooking oatmeal that you can’t eat once you’re finished. But that, if you didn’t uck-fay it up-ay while making it, will taste awesome when you finally get to drink it.

A dark brew takes form...

Once you’re finished with all the stirring and boiling and simmering and thermometering and pouring and straining and cooling…well, then you reach the fermentering, which requires a funnel, a strainer, a jug, and a steady hand. I had most of those things…enough to get the dark brew into the jug, pitch the yeast, shake it all up and then rig the fermenter:

I'm only going to ask you se7en times, Detective...what's in the box?

This is my brew’s new home for the next two weeks while the yeast works its magic with my brew. See? I built it a little home and everything, to keep it cool and dark:

Built to code...

Once the two weeks are up, then comes the bottling, followed by two more weeks of cool, dark waiting before I can fridge up my beer and taste the spoils of my brewing victory. This also means that I have a month to come up with a name and maybe even design a label.

Stay tuned, denizens…soon There Will Be Beer.