Last night after getting back home from a long night at the Blind Pig, I decided a French Bread pizza was a requirement before going to bed.  What I didn’t do was eat it.  It sat in the oven all night on 425 degrees.  I think I am lucky to be alive right now.

After eviscerating Guy Fieri last night, I feel it is necessary to speak positively about something this evening.  And not Hoegaarden or bacon or salsa or anything obvious.  Tonight, a brief word about the Cooking Channel, specifically the four o’clock hour.

Readers of this blog know full well that that same time block on Food Network is damn close to the hour of death.  I’ve got nothing against Sunny Anderson other than the fact that I find her cooking show boring.  Gina Neely has more personality in one of her fingernails.  Giada at 4:30 is a true nightmare, a half hour of her is bad enough.  Add to this the fact that Anne Burrell and Guy Fieri precede the four o’clock hour and you might need to add a vomitorium to your living room.

Cooking Channel to the rescue.  At 4pm we have the lovely, talented, and lovely (did I say that twice?) Nigella Lawson, and at 4:30 we have the lovely and criminally underutilized Aida Mollenkamp.  For a man in his thirties, there is more to drool over in this hour than food.

Nigella

Nigella is quite the saucy lass, lots of coquettish looks to the camera while she makes fig whateveradoo.  Her recipes are hit and miss, but her personality is captivating.  And at the end of her show she sultrily sneaks to the kitchen and prepares what appears to be a midnight snack.  That my friends, is a real woman.  No need to obnoxiously flash cleavage in my face, make up words like yumm-o, or talk about window treatments.

Aida

At 4:30, Aida takes over, and here is where the recipes come alive.  The food she makes strikes directly at a man’s heart.  She’ll stuff a raw chicken with marinade, cook up burgers with the best of them, and make side dishes that people actually want to eat, instead of tomato and cucumber salad.  How Food Network allows her to languish on Cooking Channel and at the same time promote Anne Burrell and Alex Guarnaschelli completely boggles the mind.

So there it is, EP readers.  I promised to be nice, and for the most part I was.  This isn’t just me gushing about two attractive females, these ladies can cook, and I for one am glad that Cooking Channel exists so I can ignore FN and watch actual talent in the kitchen.

It’s been awhile since we last made fun of Guy Fieri.  That has been fine with me, I know his barely coherent tweets make for perfect examples of Guy’s legendary douchebaggery, but overall he is too easy of a target.  So we’ve eased up on the Guy bashing, and judging by the e-mail I’ve received, many of you are not happy about it.  Well, wait no longer my friends.  Besides, did you think I would have six posts in seven nights without one about Guy?

I was leafing through my cat’s copy of Food Network Magazine the other day (yes, my cat really does have a subscription to FN Magazine, it’s a long story) and what did I stumble upon but an advertisement for Guy Fieri’s Knuckle Sandwich Series Knives.  I kid you not, gentle reader, that is what they are called.  Sometimes truth is douchier than fiction.  Isn’t a knuckle sandwich a euphemism for a punch to the mouth?  How is that related to a knife in any way?  Oh right, it’s really lame.  Fits Guy to a “T.”

Who wouldn't want to buy a knife from this clown?

Knife sets rely almost exclusively on slick marketing.  If you purchase a high quality knife set (or like me receive one as a wedding gift) and treat them with loving care they will last a very long time.  So the only way to get someone with a perfectly good knife set to buy a new one is to market it in a way that makes it irresistible.  And judging from the gullibility of the Guy Fieri Mafia, I’m sure they are selling like spikey-haired hot cakes.

The knife set, excuse me, the Knuckle Sandwich Series Knife set, consists of four rockin’ blades.  The “Big Stick” is an all-purpose chef’s knife.  Former President Theodore Roosevelt coined the phrase, “Walk softly and carry a big stick.”  Which means that if you have massive military power, or a badass knife, you should STFU about it and not make a big spectacle of yourself.  Which pretty much should exclude Guy Fieri from being associated with it.

The Big Stick and the Dragon Dagger. I feel 23 % douchier just typing those words.

There is also a serrated knife, called the “Dragon Dagger,” which is ironically the name of the serrated knife Beowulf used to slay the dragon before suffering his own mortal wound in the eponymous epic poem (we know about all things epic here at EP).  Also, isn’t a dagger for stabbing?  Anyone need to stab a loaf of bread with a dagger?  Imagine if Guy had left one of his knives at Juliet’s side,  Shakespeare would never be the same. “O Happy Dragon Dagger,” cried Juliet, “I shall use your serrated blade to exeunt from this mortal coil.  But first I willst slice this tomato.”

The other knives include the “Lil’ Guy,” which thankfully is not the name of Guy’s penis but a paring knife.  And that is all I have to say about that.

Finally, there is the “Chopper.”  I guess whoever was in charge of coming up with edgy, Guy Fieri-esque names decided to leave early that day.  One must assume this knife is for chopping things.

We’ll be on the lookout for the next Guy Fieri endorsed products to emerge.  Hair gel, sunglasses, home pregnancy tests (if it says money, you are pregnant!), and the one I’m most looking forward to, the Guy Fieri brand sensory deprivation tank.  Enter the tank and be guaranteed of freedom from all things Guy, if only for a little while.

I know that KFC got a lot of publicity for the Double Down — not the least of which was from EP — but it seems like there is a subtle, unspoken race to outdo the Colonel.  The Orange County Register, which I read religiously, has clued us in on a new contender.   Welcome the addition from Carl’s Jr.:  The Footlong Cheeseburger.

Carl's Jr. Footlong Cheeseburger

Where's the beef?

Call me crazy, but it sure just appears to be three patties (above picture is half of the footlong) poorly arranged on a sub bun.  Subway would catch hell for this lack of tessellation.  I’m sure Carl’s Sr. is rolling over in his grave, I mean it’s pretty much just an elongated triple cheeseburger.  I’m not impressed.

By the way, I’m still waiting for my lifetime supply of free Frosty’s, Wendy’s.  It’s an extremely generous offer to save your moribund eatery.  And it won’t last forever.

Ruff, Ruff!! I'm Hop Hound the rockin' dog!

It’s difficult to know what to expect when macro-brewers endeavor to create a craft beer.  Sometimes it works out, and sometimes it doesn’t.  As for the effort, I like to think that even though the idea sprang from a whorish money grabbing attempt by the marketing department, those who actually get to brew the beer relish the opportunity to construct a legitimate, quality beverage.

Hop Hound Amber Wheat, from our old pals at Anheuser Busch/InBev, fills the entire spectrum of poor marketing and decent craftsmanship.  Has anyone seen an ad for Hop Hound?  If you have, please clue me in.  And why not blitz the airwaves with advertising for Hop Hound, I mean, there’s a freaking dog on the label!  The possibilities are endless.  Never mind that the dog on Hop Hound looks like Poochie, the cartoon dog from The Simpsons that was used to make Itchy and Scratchy seem new and fresh, it’s still a dog!

I have to go now. My planet needs me...to sell beer!

The Hop Hound dog may not be totally in my face, but he’s got a modicum of attitude and style.  Besides, before he was jailed for statutory rape, sent to rehab and found Jesus, Spuds McKenzie proved that even a crack-addled canine can sell beer.

A sweatshirt? Really, Spuds? I know it was the 80's but come on...

As for the beer, Hop Hound isn’t bad at all.  Certainly not the disgrace that is Bud Light Golden Wheat.  Hop Hound, for starters, tastes like beer.  It has a decent amount of complexity to it.  Sort of a light, malty, wheat flavor with citrus undertones.  Not bad for a hot July 4th barbeque, certainly better than Bud Light, my other option.  I do wonder why a beer that has relatively little hoppiness (is that a word?) calls itself Hop Hound.  Maybe to a dog it is hoppy, but I digress.  The fact that it falls short of Costco’s Kirkland Signature Amber Ale is perhaps a question of taste.  I have no doubt that there will be those who really like Hop Hound, and kudos to them.  Personally, I don’t see myself buying it again but who knows, like I said it had some things going for it.  I just can’t help but feel that it lacked soul.  Maybe it was the dog.  Maybe there is a degree of prejudice because this is the same conglomeration that created Bud Light Golden Wheat. 

I will say that I am now interested to try Michelob’s Shock Top, their take on a Belgian white.  Hop Hound is good enough to give me a little hope.  If I do try it, you will be the first to know.  Not literally.  The person who sells me the beer will know, and so will my wife, and maybe a friend or two.  But rest assured dear readers, you will be no more than fifth or sixth on the list…

On a side note, how come there are never any cats on beer bottles?  And I don’t mean tigers or lions or leopards or ocelots or any other near relation.  I mean a domestic house cat.  As the owner of two cats, I can assure you that they can party with the best of them.  I’m throwing down the gauntlet, beer makers, I want a cat on my beer bottle by the end of the year.  I can see it now, Founders Ferocious Feline IPA.  Make it happen.

It is to the credit of our readership, which I have long trumpeted as the most intelligent on the internet, that so many of you did not and do not closely follow the LeBron James saga.  Why follow the egomaniacal exploits of a man whose job it is to throw a ball through a hoop?  I imagine that the lives of those who choose not to immerse themselves in the minutiae of sport are quite often richer than those who get caught up in details of free agency.

I write this because a few of you have wondered to me via e-mail or other media if I really was planning on leaving EP.  That is not the case, but rest assured I really appreciate the concern.  I feigned free agency as a nod to our Cleveland readers, a vocal and devoted group.  I’m sure the spoof was not lost on the vast majority of you.

On a side note, Cleveland is an amazing food town.  Seriously.  Michael Symon has a fantastic restaurant there.  Cleveland boasts an all-grilled cheese cornucopia called Melt.  And Cleveland is also the home of Great Lakes Brewery, something any city would be proud of.  So stay strong Cleveland, even though many of you are Ohio State fans, a little Great Lakes love from Ann Arbor to you.

As penance for this ridiculous ruse, I offer the following:  Six posts in seven nights (can’t do seven, my son has soccer camp and yes, I’m well aware of how that is a cliché but I still have to go and be a good father.  Besides, it’s my fault for immersing him in the World Cup.)  I will begin tomorrow evening with the long awaited Hop Hound review.

There was one obvious clue that I was never going to leave.  In my original post, I stated that I was intrigued by the idea of “writing with other all-stars.”  I already write with an all-star (John) on EP.

As you may or may not know, depending on whether you keep up with the inside dealings of elite food-related websites, my contract with Epic Portions expires at the end of the month.  I will officially be a free agent in a couple of weeks.  

I love EP, I grew up as a food writer here.  This is where my posse lives.  All my local charities are funneled through EP.  To leave my “hometown” web site would be a very difficult thing. 

But having said that, I still feel as if I need to explore all options.  Who is to say that my chances of winning a food writing championship won’t be enhanced by taking my talents elsewhere?  I appreciate being flown to several different cities and shown around their respective offices.  Promises of a new Mac, a corner office, greater artistic freedom, or the chance to write with other all-stars can be intriguing to say the least.  If I were to leave, I would hope that we could work out a “sign and trade” deal that would bring a couple of prospects to EP to help with the rebuilding process.

Fortunately, I’m done with all the wining and dining, and am ready to make my decision.  And to the California website who took me to Guy Fieri’s restaurant, what the hell were you thinking?  Have you even read my stuff?  Sadly, talks fell through for a prime time special on Travel Channel, and I refuse to slum it on Food Network.  So, I’ll make my announcement right here on EP.  Tune in Wednesday night at ten to see if I’ll be staying or plying my wares at another locale.