Category Archives: Gastronomy

Just in time for “Carmageddon,” which we’re pretty sure is karma smacking upside the collective head of L.A.’s westside, we bring the deserving some relief. We can’t sympathize with most of the idiots who live on the west side of … Continue reading →

Admitted and unabashed proponents of West Coast beer, we will be the first to admit there’s one state in the upper forty-eight that has contributed as much, if not more, than California to America’s total domination of the beer-drinking world: … Continue reading →

In past lives we flung burgers, T-bones and other animal parts onto hot griddles. (Alex became a man while prepping in an Albequerque diner on Route 66 so it was unavoidable, and Evan was the grill station cook one summer … Continue reading →

Alex’s birthday two years ago started the way they all do: we drove to the industrial armpit of north Pasadena that holds Craftsman Brewing. There we found an especially tasty treat awaiting us. The owner/head brewer (of our hearts) Mark … Continue reading →

We don’t know how your city’s garden grows, but in Los Angeles our public and private spaces are littered with free food sprouting from hillsides, traffic medians, abandoned lots and neighbors’ fruit trees. This has in turn seeded radical programs … Continue reading →

So, we’re writing a cookbook (if you missed our recent post entitled “We’re writing a cookbook”) and like anything else on this blog, how could we possible undertake such an important, mind-fuck of an endeavor without getting some feedback from … Continue reading →

We’re writing a cookbook, it’s coming soon. Get stoned on it.

About five years ago—on April 5, 2006—we told you how to make a psychotropic pizza then dictated it must be paired with a pint of Flying Dog Gonzo Imperial Porter and Jefferson Airplane’s “Surrealistic Pillow” album. Was that the first … Continue reading →

We’ve no beef with practitioners of the oldest profession — it’s the second oldest we worry about. Middlemen. Middlemen lie to you. Exploit your weakness. They tax your tea, charge overhead, and tell you only they can talk to god. … Continue reading →

Aztec party animals got dowwwn. And their parties usually meant one thing—a stew of corn kernels simmered with freshly plucked human flesh. Word is, this combo came from their totally-high-on-blood belief that their god fashioned humans out of corn meal, … Continue reading →