James’s Blog

I know what you’re thinking.  That’s all well and good, James, and there’s hardly anything more important than a Perfect Burger, but, really, at the end of the day, what truly inspires is Mayo.  And, no, not the clinic, but the sauce.  You’re absolutely right.  I am embarrassed, nay ashamed, and aim to rectify the situation right smartly.  If you’ll please turn in your hymnals to page 132, we will now sing the praises of Mayonnaise (you are correct if you suspected it’s killing me not to say “Mayonnaises”).

I’m talking about this because this is something you should all know how to do.  Besides saving you a freaking buttload of money, homemade mayo is one of those things that makes you look like you’re a lot more sophisticated than you really are, and it’s hella easy.  Also, if you’re like me, sometimes you go through mayo like it’s water, and sometimes, that stupid jar stares at you for weeks upon end.  Freshly made mayo doesn’t have that jiggly gelatin look when you pour it (yes, I said pour) on something, or in something.  Or under something, or something.  Finally, homemade mayo just TASTES better than even the bestest jarred mayo out there, regardless of whatever mayo you use.  So there.

For those not so culinarily inclined, mayonnaise is, well, pretty interesting.  It is an egg sauce (there are many, don’t get me started), and it’s also an emulsion.  This will become wildly important in a moment.  For those who care, all of you in other words, an emulsion is, technically, a combination of a liquid (water, or sometimes, something other than water), and an oil, and, sometimes, an EMULSIFIER, which is nothing more or less than some kind of something that helps the liquid and the oil combine.  The point of the emulsifier is to help the two disparate OTHER parts combine, more or less, permanently.  In the case of mayo (if you don’t mind, I’ll just call it that from now on), these combinatorial theatrics are also helped along by acid ingredients, which we’ll get to in a minute.  The important point is that, at base, an emulsion is liquid, OIL, sometimes an emulsifier, and sometimes other ingredients which can assist the formation of the emulsion.

In the case of mayo, the ingredients that are necessary to its formation all support the formulation of the emulsion:  Oil, acid source, mustard (I’ll explain this too), egg yolks, spices, and, sometimes, herbs or other flavourings.  These are the ingredients in the IDEAL mayo.  Not necessarily the classic recipe, which sort of sucks unless you’re making Aioli.  Which, if done right, you would want to eat straight from the jar.  Aioli is why God created Garlic, but we’ll save that for another day.

Oh, I nearly forgot.  In the case of mayo, we ARE using an emulsifier, which is egg yolk.  And, right under your very nose, the egg yolks are using lecithin as THEIR emulsifier.  How clever is that?  It’s mostly the lecithin in the egg yolk that allows this emulsion to work.  Of course, it’s not at all that simple, but I’m frankly too tired to explain all of it to you right now.  Just go with the lecithin angle for right now.

So, here’s the recipe, and technique, for creating the Perfect Mayonnaise.  Okay, I lied.  If I were being dead honest, which I try almost never to do, I would have to say that this is the Almost Perfect Mayo for Almost Everything.  However, the truth is that Mayo is one of those things that should be tweaked for specific applications; you should maybe make it more mustard-y for potato salad, maybe a bit less so for egg salad; maybe add a bit of tomato paste for ham salad, and maybe some fresh chervil and/or dill for glazing your salmon prior to broiling it.  And, if I may say so, nothing tastes better than fresh mayo for brushing onto a Toasted Cheese Sandwich just prior to grilling it.  Works for Panini too!

Anyway, here’s the base ingredient deck and instructions for Almost Perfect Mayo.  Oh, I forgot.  If you don’t have an immersion (stick) blender, stop right now and go and get one.  The mayo you make with a stick blender is absolutely so much better, plus it’s really easy when you just give in and do it my way.  So go get your stick blender; I’ll wait.

Ready?  Here we go.  You need two egg yolks.  Don’t start cracking eggs yet.  Just get them out of the fridge.  Get yourself a bowl of extremely hot water, ideally almost boiling.  Yes, you can use the microwave to zap the water.  Once it’s steaming hot, remove it from the nuke and set it aside.  Place your two perfectly whole uncracked eggs in the bowl and set aside for, like, two minutes.  After two minutes, take the eggs out of the bowl, crack them into your blender container, or another tall relatively narrow container, and separate them; yolks into the blender container, whites into another small bowl.  I know, it seems like a waste, but you can always save them, or, like me, you could make a luscious meringue with them.

To the egg yolks, add your chosen acid.  Typically, in a regular mayo, you’d add 2-3 Tbsp. of lemon juice.  If you want a mayo that’s more latin in flavour, substitute lime juice.  You can also substitute any type of vinegar (I like a touch of apple cider vinegar, with the rest being white distilled vinegar).  Next add a good squirt of any commercially prepared YELLOW mustard, about a tablespoon.  The classic recipe usually calls for Dijon, but most people don’t much care for that, so I use yellow.  Now, add about a tablespoon of really good olive oil.  Mix this with a fork.

Push your stick blender all the way to the bottom of the container and fire it up.  Mix the ingredients for fifteen seconds.  Stop blending and add a healthy pinch of salt, and a little pepper; I prefer white.  Here’s the part where many people get in trouble.  Measure out about a cup of your selected oil.  Reserve out about a tablespoon of the oil, because you’ll be using it next.  I prefer a really good Olive oil, but you could use canola, safflower, or any other relatively light oil.  In any event, start the stick blender again, and after a few seconds, begin to DROP the spoonful of oil directly into the container, a single drop at a time, and blend it in with everything else.  This will take some time, but you don’t have anything else to for a few minutes anyway.  Remember to make sure each drop of oil is fully incorporated into the mix before you add the next drop. After you do this, get another Tablespoon of the oil, and add it in a slow, slow, steady stream, insuring that it all gets incorporated fully.  At this point, it’ll look all loose and foamy and awful.  You’re doing fine.

Add the rest of the oil in a very slow stream, mixing it all around with the stick blender (this is the fun part).  As you add the oil, you’ll notice it that your mix is starting to thicken up.  Keep adding until your mixture begins to thicken. . .stop adding oil when the mixture is thick enough that when you pull the stick blender up, it kind of GLOPS off the stick.  Don’t add more than this or the mayo will become oily feeling in the mouth.

Once you’ve taken your mayo from the foamy awful, loose stage to the thicker, heartier, creamy stage, you’re all but done.  Now, if you wanted, you could add pesto, or ketchup, or even another type of mustard if you want.  Whatever makes YOU happy, makes your mayo happy.

Store the mayo in a jar with a tight-fitting lid.  I’m supposed to tell you that it’ll be good for only about a week, but, between us chickens, I’ll share with you that I’ve gone up to two weeks, and I’m not dead yet.  However, I amazing recuperative powers not available to normal mortals, so, you should probably absolutely NOT listen to me, and use your mayo up within a week.

Try the homemade mayo, once or twice, at least.  You probably won’t EVER buy jarred (i.e. commercial, i.e. GROSS) mayo again.  And even if you do, at least you’ll know how they make the stuff.

Warm Regards,

James.

For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been on a quest to find the Perfect Burger.  It started innocently enough when I was asked to do a “spec” article of 600-800 words on, if you can believe it, “The Best Burger in Las Vegas!”  I won’t relive the embarassment of telling you that I was apparently not good enough to write for these bast—, I mean not accomplished enough of a writer to write for this august publication, which I have since found out has exactly 23 readers who DON’T write for it (!).  I know! 

Anyway, the wound is still fresh, but, in the intervening time, I managed to learn enough about burgers, and burgerism in general, that I now feel confident that I have it nailed. . .I can now report with some degree of confidence, that I have discovered how to wangle out a Perfect Burger.  I’m not saying I’ve MADE it yet, but I know what it looks, smells, and tastes like.  If I ever find one that I myself did not produce, I will pounce on it like it was Jerry and I was Tom, if you get the reference.

I want to be clear, I’m not talking about the specific places to FIND a perfect burger in Las Vegas.  Just general ruminations on what makes a perfect burger.  If you can extrapolate from these details, then I say Go Unto The God of Burgers, ye Pilgrim, and there give Thanks for The Burger.  Amen.  Non-religious or non-practicing Burger Lovers will just have to muddle along and go to their closest Supermarket.

Come with me, and let’s discover the Perfect Burger.

Let me say also that I believe the Perfect Burger is composed of beef.  Yes, there are many tasty types of protein, almost all of which can be ground, which, to me, is what defines a Burger.  By the way, if you’re looking for the history of the Burger and its derivation from Hamburg Steak, and why it’s technically different from Salisbury Steak, and so on, you’ll have to look elsewhere.  Here we’re dealing with the Perfect Burger, and in Perfect Burger World, a burger is made of beef.

1.  Fat Content and Beef Quality:  This should be at least 20%.  So, in terms of ideals, we’re looking for 80/20 beef.  Usually, this is less expensive than superultradeluxe lean, which is a good thing.  You already know, of course, that the purpose of having 80/20 beef is to insure that you have enough fat to both insulate the beef during cooking, and also to insure that it stays juicy and moist.  Thermal shock causes the meat to be TOO tight (the proteins get wound too fast, and don’t relax as internal temperature rises), and too little fat means much higher evaporation of water molecules, meaning there won’t be enough juices to redistribute throughout the meat at the end of cooking.

In terms of quality, the better the quality, the better the taste overall.  I think also that a blend of Sirloin and Chuck tastes better than just ground Sirloin (too lean) or just Chuck (not as flavourful, despite higher fat content).  The problem here, of course, is to make sure that you maintain the proper fat/lean ratio.  Unlike some, I don’t believe in double-grinding, and I don’t think a coarse grind improves flavour.  Just a standard grind, one pass, ground while cold (so the fat doesn’t start melting).  And don’t be too cheap. . .a great burger is worth the cost.

2. Size and Shape:  This occupied me for a long time, but I think the best combination of size and shape is a 1/3 pound burger patty, in the shape of a square, with a divot in the middle.  I can’t explain it to you, except to say that square patties seem to stay juicier.  They also improve the LOOK of the burger, are easier to divot, easier to shape and form. . .a square is just better.  Especially with shaping, you can stick them in the bottom of any square container, and, eh Voila, square burger!  In terms of thickness, I like a good, thick burger, so probably at least 1 1/2-2 inches, but keep this in mind when you’re cooking, because your patty will contract inwards, becoming slightly thicker and losing some diameter. . .burgers tend to pull themselves toward the center, becoming more pucky.  Not that it’s a bad thing, I’m just saying.  The overall size of the burger is important.  It should be somewhere between five and six inches across, depending on desired thickness.  However, most people don’t like a patty that’s much smaller than about five inches, and, to be honest, a burger smaller across than this just SEEMS small.  Wide and thick, with a little wiggle room on exactly HOW wide and exactly HOW thick.  And, you can get too wide, and too thick.  Stick with the limits identified above, and you should be fine.

3.  Cooking the meat:  Start with room-temperature meat, or as close as you can get.  Season liberally with Salt and Pepper, on both sides, but don’t go crazy with the salt.  Keep in mind also, that salt will begin to draw moisture to the surface, so don’t salt too long before you begin to cook.  There’s a ton of disagreement on the best cooking method, but, in terms of the Perfect Burger, the winner from the standpoint of taste, is broiling.  It’s also pretty easy, if tricky.  However, a pan-fried burger can be pretty spectacular.  Surprisingly, the most-preferred method, barbecuing, also created the worst-tasting burgers, even if your Brother-in-Law Phil is routinely acknowledged as the best BBQ griller in the whole damn subdivision.

So, your meat is standing by, having warmed to room temperature.  You’ve seasoned it, and decided either to use the broiler or a pan.  For a broiler, put the broiling pan in the oven, set to broil, and allow it to preheat.  For pan-frying, prefer an iron skillet, if you have one, and set it to heating.  An iron skillet should be preheated to just a smidge above medium high.  Broilers, you only have one setting. . .not much drama here.

And we’re off.  When your broiler pan or skillet are fully preheated, slide the patties into the working area, and off you go.  You want three minutes per side for Medium-Rare burgers, and maybe a bit more. . .that’s why it’s important to divot the middle of the patty. . .as the patty cooks, the divot will fill-in, and the burger will cook more evenly (ever wonder why White Castle puts five holes in each of its patties?  This here is why).

After you’ve flipped and cooked the patties on the other side for the same amount of time, cover the skillet if you’re pan frying, and turn off the broiler unit by dropping the oven temperature to 300, and return the burgers to the oven.  You can check if you want, but if you’ve done everything right, your burgers should be Medium Rare to Medium, which is ideal for maxium juiciness and taste.  You absolutely have the right to have a burger cooked more than medium-rare or medium, but, no matter how you FEEL about it, the truth is that such burgers are always less juicy and less flavourful.

And it’s not a scam or a game created by the Eat Raw Meat lobby to trick you; it’s fundamental physics. . .the proteins in meat get tighter and drier as they get more cooked. . .this forces water out of the matrix.  The more you cook meat, the more of the fat is expressed and dispersed. . .fat carries flavour, so the less fat, the less flavour.  Also, with beef some of the flavour components are water-soluble, and less water means less of these components. 

When it comes to cheese, it seems that, no matter what, the addition of cheese improves a burger; it just TASTES better, almost independently of what type of cheese.  However, it does seem like the stronger the flavour of the cheese, to a point, the better the burger tastes with it; i.e. Sharp Cheddar tastes better on a burger than Mild Cheddar; Jarlsberg or Aged Swiss seems to taste better than Baby Swiss, and so on.

Prepare your cheese (not TOO thick; about 3/8 of an inch is fine. . too thick and it falls off the burger, melts unevenly, and so on).  Pull the burgers out of the broiler, or uncover the pan, place the cheese, and immediately return to their cubbyholes. . .you must absolutely cover the skillet, but resist the urge to BROIL the cheese onto the broiled burgers. . .broiled cheese doesn’t improve the flavour appreciably, and you’ll dry the meat out.  Ideally, you should get to a bubbly consistently over the whole slice of cheese, but, from the standpoint of flavour, the best time is just when the cheese is melted enough to START bubbling.  Pull the patties out and prepare for assembly.

It should be unnecessary to mention this, but mention it I shall:  You MUST rest the meat after ending the cooking process, whether or not you add cheese.  Patties must rest at least five minutes, and probably closer to ten, so that the juices can redistribute.  I know it sounds like something all of us who cook meat made up, but it’s actually true.  The WORST thing you can do, from the perspective of juiciness, is to serve SIZZLING hot meat (those of you who are sniggering are probably the worst offenders) to a guest.  Just. don’t. do. it.

4.  Composition of the Sandwich:  Now may be the time to talk about various and sundry ingredients used to create your masterpiece.  The range of toppings, dressings, and other -ings that can be applied to a burger are virtually endless, but there are some things that seem to be absolutely necessary to a perfect burger:

    a.  Cheese:  We’ve already talked about this, but it’s important to make sure we’re clear.  Almost everybody we’ve ever talked to too thinks cheese is necessary on the Perfect Burger.  Oddly enough, even those who don’t particularly care for cheese think it’s required for a Perfect Burger. The cheeses most people think are appropriate are Sharp Cheddar, Swiss (ideally an aged or robust swiss), and, believe it or don’t, Bleu (by which is meant any of a variety of cheese in the “bleu” family, whether Maytag, Danish, Stilton, Roquefort, or any other type of cheese answering to the name of Blue).

    b.  Onion.  Frankly, this surprised me, but most people think a Perfect Burger requires onion, on some level.  The best taste is neither truly grilled, nor is it raw.  The best taste seems to be a slice of raw, sweet onion (like Texas Sweet, Vidalia, Walla Walla, Maui, you get the drill), grilled for a few seconds on each side, and nothing else.  Raw onion seems to be a little too “sharp” for the Perfect Burger, even among those who like raw onion (like yours truly).  Grilled, sauteed, reduced, or in any other way, “adulterated” onions were also not preferred by most people. . .the comments indicated they felt the onion was “too cooked” to add much to the burger, and, also, it was felt that the onions became too sweet and not pungent enough.  The next favourite is purple (italian sweet) onion, treated the same way.

    c. Tomato:  Another oddment.  Not all that many people love the idea of tomato on a burger, which surprised me, because I love love love tomato.  Nevertheless, almost everyone indicated that a Perfect Burger needed tomato, a fairly thick slice (about a third inch thick).  It should be VERY ripe, almost too ripe, and sort of soft, and almost universally, the preferred tomato is the Beefsteak, which seems to have the right balance of flavour and texture.

    d. Lettuce:  People are torn about lettuce, no pun intended.  It’s generally seen as an enhancement, but not a requirement.  There’s an almost universal objection to whole leaf Iceberg, but people don’t generally mind a little shredded on the burger.  Green Leaf Lettuce is vastly preferred, and is seen to be acceptable on the Perfect Burger.  Your Correspondent loves lettuce, but doesn’t think it’s necessary on the Perfect Burger.

    e.  The Bun:  Believe it or don’t, the bun is believed to be integral to the perfect burger.  And, also surprisingly, it should be relatively soft, relatively thick, and somewhat sweet.  It should also be grilled or toasted (toasted is preferred).  It’s important to toast the bun in any event, to minimize breakthrough of the burger juices, which will make the bun soggy, and can break it down.  Despite TV commercials to the contrary, people like a fairly big fluffy bun, easily smooshable, and overwhelmingly, the choice is either a Kaiser or Brioche style bun.  No whole grain, sprouted, multi-grain, all-natural, you get the idea.  Burgers were made for white, soft, slightly sweet buns.  Toasted.

    f. Sauces:  It’s amazing how specific, and how particular, people are about the saucy components of their burgers.  It is surprising how few people want much ketchup; I would have thought it was considered absolutely essential.  Mustard too got a lot less pull than I had suspected it would.  The actual perfect sauce topping seems to be a 50-50 mix of mayo and ketchup, ideally seasoned with salt, pepper, onion salt, worcestershire, and a tiny bit of garlic powder.  This mixture was a hit with everyone at our burger tasting.  Objectively, this topping seems to have enhanced the taste of the burger without obscuring it.  Globs of ketchup, or even mustard applied in a thin layer, were seen to have obscured the “meaty” taste of the burger.  Who knew?  As we say in Utah, Fry Sauce rules.

    g. Pickles:  Pickles are either hands up or hands down.  There’s almost no middle of the road.  It seems to be exactly matched to the individual person’s like or dislike of an acid component to their burger, even though pickles also add an additional level of saltiness.  Overall, pickles, while nummy, seem to obscure some of the taste of the meat.  In other words, you may like the additional taste of pickles, but you’re sacrificing the meaty taste.  At the end, pickles were not seen as necessary to the Perfect Burger.  And by the way, no self-respecting burger should have sweet or bread and butter pickles on it.  It’s just wrong.

5. Assembly:  This turned out to be MUCH more important than anyone had realized.  I won’t go into all the permutations.  Suffice to say that this is how your burger should be assembled for maximum tastiness, even though it’s a little weird: Bottom bun, covered with your choice of sauce; Beef Patty, covered with dripping melted cheese; Onion slice, perfectly grilled; Tomato slice, ripe and juicy; lettuce if you must, but only in a single layer, and never piled on, even if it’s shredded; Top bun, covered with your choice of sauce.  Sauces, mayo, mustard, whatever should never be drizzled or slathered on the condiment stack, no matter what McDonald’s and Burger King think. . .they do that because it’s FASTER, not because it’s better.  If you want, you could add a dash of salt and pepper to the top of the condiment stack. . . some people think it raises the whole burger at least a couple degrees, others think it makes it too salty and peppery (we like it, but with salt/pepper on the tomato slice).  However, it’s not necessary in order to make the Perfect Burger.  But wait, there’s more. . . .

6.  Accompaniments:  Tricky.  Some people are all about the fries, and there’s good evidence, and belief, that fries are the only natural and true side dish for a burger.  Yet others believe that Onion Rings make a Perfect Burger even MORE Perfect.  My own opinion is that fries, properly cooked, seasoned, and served, are the best accompaniment to the Perfect Burger.  And by fries, I mean regular old fries made from regular old potatoes.  While I love, love, LOVE Sweet Potato Fries, I think they’re too sweet to be helpful to the Perfect Burger.  I feel the same way about Onion Rings.  Really Great Onion Rings are one of the most perfect and delicious foods, on their own, in the whole universe.  But the breading and the sweetness of the onions can interfere with the Perfect Burger.

Think of it like this. . .you’ve ordered the Perfect Pizza, but it’s completely appropriate to order a huge order of wings to go with it.  And plenty of celery with Blue Cheese Dip.  That’s how I feel about Onion Rings. . .it’s a go along, but not a true side dish for the Perfect Burger.

Well friends, there you are, the construction, support, and maintenance of The Perfect Burger.  Okay, just the basic bare bones about the Perfect Burger.  But it’s a start.  If I may suggest, it might be fun for you to begin your own intensive set of experiments. . .use this little guide as a starting point, and find out how to make your own Perfect Burger.  Making life better through beef, and serving humanity, all at the same time. . .how great is that?!

End Transmission.

_{The $28,000 Question-Comment}

History: This is from a blog entry on the website: www.iwillteachyoutoberich.com.  This is MY comment after reading all the rest of the entries.  As you can see, I was pretty faded.  Still, I got a few jabs in, although, I will admit, my roundhouse SUCKS.  Actually, it’s so bad it’s Teh Sux.  I’ll work on it while you’re reading. By the way, this is a really great blog, and a really great website.  Too bad about his crazy readers.

You know, at first I thought the whole idea of commenting on a comment about weddings was stupid. Then, I started to read, and all of a sudden I got it. . .these comments, like the weddings that spawned them, are all about declaring who you are to the world. What a frightening idea. However, as I said, I’ve been inspired to make my own comments, and here we go.

First, I don’t think the cost of the wedding matters as much as how it comports with YOUR view on weddings, and marriage, and what not. But more importantly, Ramit’s point seems to have been largely missed. All he was saying was that it’s important to save for your wedding and PLAN for what it’s going to end up to be. He mentioned the $28,000 cost average simply as one of the facts that should be considered. If he’d decided to comment on, say, the average price of a car, and how it’s important to save up for the down payment, maybe things wouldn’t have spun so out of control. On the other hand, people love their cars. Ramit, they say the road to hell, and aggravating frustration, is paved with good intentions.

Ramit’s good intentions which have become evil devilspawn to the contrary, I’m going to put my own very head in the lion’s mouth by commenting on some of the right dumb ideas I’ve heard expressed here today. I almost certainly have better things to do with my time, but, since I’m here anyway, here we go. And, with the exception of Ashley, none of you people are invited. Except, of course, Ashley’s hunk. I’ve never seen a Chinese hunk, and I’m dying to. Mine, of course, is from Taiwan.

Let’s go element by element. There’s no particular order, except the order in which my enfeebled brain will recall them. Please keep your hands and arms inside the rides at all times. Here we go:

1. The Rings: Oh, f that cheap rings are good rings argument. I’m totally spending on a ring. And so is he. It’s a symbol, it’s traditional, and, besides that, even though I hate jewelry, my hands were BORN to wear it. I think cheaping out on a ring not only shows you’re cheap in a to-the-bone deep way, but also that you’re unwilling to advertise the fact that you’re no longer on the market. And that you’re cheap. And you lack commitment. Did I mention that you’re also a cheap bastard ya cheap bastard? Just asking.

2. Wedding Dress: It’s a wedding for frick’s sake. It deserves a dress. And you’re a bride. And, unless you have some longing need to prove that Mrs. McKenna, she of Home Ec fame, was wrong, and you really COULD make a dress, you really really could, there’s no good reason to make your own freaking dress. With the respect to the argument that it’s a cool $800 dollars for something that you’ll only wear the one time. . .that’s like saying I shouldn’t buy this amazing bottle of wine (or champagne) because I’ll only get to drink it once. As if I’d want to drink it a second time. What a stupid argument. It’s your wedding for Pete’s sake. Suck it up. Or else send me the money and I’ll buy that damn bottle of champagne and never, ever open it. I swear.

3. Low-balling the priest/officiator: Four words: You’re. Going. To. wait for it. . ..HELL! And you should. At least split the difference and have one fewer colour of Jordan Almonds and give the guy a few hundred bucks ($300 and not a penny less, you tightass). I don’t know for SURE that it’ll help you out with whatever deity or non-diety you believe or don’t believe in, but, just in case, it doesn’t hurt. And even if God is dead, she’s almost certain to have passed on a list to Karma. . .you don’t wanna go messing around with that.

4. The Limo: What, are you kidding? How often, unless you’re an evil corporate officer/raider type, do you really get to go tootin’ around in a limo? I KNOW, it’s expensive. So is not doing cool shit you’ve always wanted to do. When CATS came to my town, my friends and I rented a Limo to take us to the show, hang out during the show, and drive us around all night while we partied. It cost many, many dollars. And it was one of the best things I’ve ever done. Don’t be a punk, spring for the Limo. BTW, the limo ride was way, WAY better than the show.

5. Food. Seriously, I don’t where all those OTHER wedding people went, but totally great food and drink are really, other than seeing your friends and loved ones admit in public that they’re settling, the only reason anyone ever comes to a wedding. Or, at least a reception. The best wedding I ever went to heavily back-loaded the reception with all the great stuff. In fact, they didn’t even serve the cake there. It was a pre-reception, wine, finger foods, etc; the wedding (do you? will you? have you? kiss her!), and the obligatory cake-hole stuffing (bi-lateral, in this case. Or, put another way, Mutually Assured Stupid-Looking). And then, it was off to the races, I mean reception, where, as the evening progressed, I am ashamed to admit, my previously innocent attraction to one of my kissing-cousins took a dangerous turn. Luckily, my then current sexual partner was there to remind me that I don’t like girls. (Whew! Dodged a bullet there.)

What followed was a riot of great food, great booze, hours of laughter, and not even ONE successful conviction. Well, maybe one, but I’m up for parole in a matter of weeks, so it’s all good.

My point is that food and drink are key. No, you don’t have to rent the Penthouse Suite at the Las Vegas Hoo De Hoo, or even the Portland Hoo De Hoo, and most especially not the New York Hoo De Hoo (the Hoodiest Hoo of all!), but I think you have to pay attention. After all, we know a guest is a guest, but, really, most all good weddings are about crab puffs and roll-up sandwiches. The bride and groom? Merely afterthoughts.

6. Slave labour. This is disturbing. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love being able to count on friends and family to help me get what I want (in this case marriage), but I would never use it as a strategy. And I come from a long family of amazing cooks, who always bring a dish to everything (”Sorry about your crushing chest injury under a tractor there, Bob, but I brought some green bean casserole and a shoo-fly pie. Just have a little drop!”). Having said all this, I think it’s worth having a ittybitty budget for food and drink. Besides, once everybody’s back in the room, there’ll be other things to occupy their minds.

7. The Suite: Absolutely necessary. First of all, all good weddings go deep into the night. Second, it’s always SOMETHING. Having a room is a good way to make sure that stuff can get dropped off, you can sit down when (not if) you begin to spasm, and everybody can go by for a quick whiff of, um, AIR, yeah, air, to refresh themselves. Not that I or anyone here would ever need or want air, I’m just saying. Also, since I plan to party deep into the night, Ima need somewhere to crash before we head out to the honeymoon. And, of course, there’s the post-wedding, pre-reception bang-the-f-out-my-husband-for-a-good-hour-or-two-fest that WILL happen about five minutes after the wedding. You don’t think the wedding/reception break is an accident, do you?

8. The Honeymoon: That stuff about staying close is crap. But DO consider the idea of staying close the FIRST night. You want your Honeymoon to be memorable, otherwise you’re just going to have to pay for one in five or ten years “to make up for the Honeymoon we never really got.” She’ll say it anyway, no matter where you go (”But, honey, I really REALLY thought that renting Tahiti for ten days qualified as a honeymoon”), so you might as well do it up for the first one. On the good side, you TOTALLY get to use a great honeymoon as a credit against the cost of a REAL (her words, not mine), (i.e. second). honeymoon.

9. The tux: An absolute necessity. Even if it’s just the formalization of an illicit and torrid affair with his high school gym teacher, oh, but enough about me. . .even if it IS just that, every man owes his mother the courtesy of seeing him dressed up once in his life, and despite the fact that most of you can’t carry it off at ALL, you should also dress up for your adoring wife, given that she’s probably a lot better people than you are, anyway. Besides, speaking as someone who’s been around a LOT of cater-waiters, undressing someone in a tux is HOT. She’ll love it.

10. Dearly Beloved: There are just some people you have to invite. But men, fear not. . .you will be advised of who they are within seconds of offering your plea, or plying your troth, or doing whatever it is betrotheds do when they’re betrothing. Daughters, no matter how you slice it, if you have ANY kind of a relationship with your mother in which you communicate, your wedding is HER wedding, so you might as well just shut up about it now. And sons, your wedding is mama’s wedding as well, and if mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy, especially that bitch mother-in-law of yours (isn’t it amazing how fast your fiancée’s mother became that bitch mother-in-law of yours? And vice versa.). And you all wondered why half of all marriages fail. This is why. Anyway, you still have to invite everyone who could possibly cause you pain in the future if they weren’t invited. I mean, I KNOW that crazy-ass cousin of yours gets on your nerves, but, if you don’t invite her, she’ll be on her mother for years, who’ll be on YOUR mother for years, who’ll be on YOU for years, which will cause you to eat too much Toasted Pound Cake with Ice Cream and Chocolate, which will piss you off, which will cause you to take it out on your otherwise totally delightful husband, who will never NEVER understand that when you attack him for doing absolutely nothing wrong, it’s because of that bitch Cassie, who you should have invited to your frickin’ wedding, it’s only ONE invitation, right? How could I have been so frickin’ stupid? But your experience might be different.

However, I did find a good way to partially stave off the attacks. Just do this before they start heating up the oil: “Mom,” you say, “Mom, me and Wilfredo only have (this much money) to do the wedding, and that’s it. Anything else (by which you mean her dumb ass idea/order), is an extra we just can’t afford. But I love it, I really do. I just wish we could do it. . .(voice trailing off wistfully). And, in that subtle, sneaky way you do, just look off into the distance whilst communicating pain and sincerity. Like when you borrowed the car for Prom. Eventually, they’ll give up and find something else to screw with you about, or they’ll offer to pay. And then, it’s round two. And, oh, by the way, if you accept their offer, you don’t get to bitch about her mother’s control issues. Even though you’re right. And his mother’s no prize either.

 

In any event, if you aren’t flush with cash, arrange everything EVERYTHING so that, if someone isn’t invited, it’s someone else’s fault, but not and never YOUR fault. BTW, you should also try to find a way to make your spouse guilt-free, otherwise you might have to pay for that in your marriage, once the crazyhot hot sex cools off.

12. DJ: This one, I’m not so sure about. On the one hand, I don’t like going to weddings with a DJ who has a PROGRAM. Everybody over here, say this do that, bite this, f- that. I hate that crap. Weddings, no matter whatever ELSE they are, are supposed to be fun. I don’t need a little fascist in a stupid t-shirt (that probably says “I’m with stupid” and he’s a solo act. . .geddit?) to tell me what to do. Except for the Chicken Dance, which I love, but who doesn’t?

On the other hand, think about your friends and family. Now, think about their musical taste. And the fact that they’ll almost invariably want to help, or, um “DeeJay” for you. And, think about the fact that they’ll be deejaying on your own very equipment. Now weigh the potential actual costs (cost for all your electrical/musical equipment? A freakin’ lot), as well as the frayed nerves, potential exhaustion, and very real possibility that you might lose a friend, or an eye, and compare to the cost of a “real” DJ. You do anything you want, cupcake, but I’m willing to go without a second latte every Friday for a long damn time to pay someone else to deal with the music. And, besides, I love that chicken dance.

13. Venue: Let’s face it, if they call it a venue, it’s too damn expensive. This is extremely personal, and yet, I’m still going to tell you what to do. Make one of two choices. . .inside or outside. Outside? Fine, I think you should go to a park. Inside? Go to some form of “Church” if you’re religious, or the Town Hall, or appropriate location, if you are not. Your guests most probably don’t care. And, as I said before, and I’m right. . .it’s mostly the reception, not the wedding.

There’s more, I’m sure, and I already know that I’ll be ticked off when I close this chapter and move on to something that’s actually of use to someone in society, but, I have to admit, I feel a LOT better.

Although, now that I think about it, I am absolutely committed to not ever, ever, EVER getting married, ever. Someone needs to tell my mother.

 

Warm Regards,

 

James.

Disambigu-what?

 

So there I was, minding my own damn business, and cruising the web, as I am wont to do from time to time (I call it playing hooky from the Universe. . .nobody knows why).  And there before me was a word I’d never seen before.  Disambiguation.  From the Latin for “I’m making this up all on my own.”  Disambiguation, the web tells us, means, um, something like “clearing up the confusion.”  Okay, not really.  It sort of means not leaving your intended meaning to chance.  At least that’s what I gathered.

It got me to thinking about all the stuff we do to ourselves as business-people to not only aim at our own feet, but shoot right at them.  Sadly, we rarely miss.  In the process of trying to sound all businessy, or professional, or both, we sometimes cloud the meaning of what we’re trying to say.

Take me, and my deal.  My company has been called “Southwest Esthetic Services” since I formed it. . .in fact, that’s why I formed it.  Because I wanted to say “Hey, world. . .here I am, ready to, you know, provide services to the Esthetics Industry.”  And that’s great if you know what “esthetic” means, but most people don’t.  And, especially in the real world, most people who probably need to know what I do, uh. . . don’t.

How do I know?  Because for more years than I care to admit right now, fully 70 to 80 percent of people, when I tell them either what I do or who I am (in the sense of my company), their eyes glaze over, and then, invariably, they utter the words you never, ever, never want to hear: “What’s that?”

In a sense, I think most of us think that’s a good thing.  After all, you DO want people to ask you to tell them your story, and there’s something to be said for having that opening. . .you get more time to pitch.  And when I’m talking to other Estheticians, it IS a good thing.  And, truth be told, I mostly work for Estheticians, or vendors who SELL to Estheticians, so, all in all, it’s probably not a BAD thing per se.

Nevertheless, there’s something to be said for being clear with the whole world as to what it is you do.  When you meet Harry the Electrician, you know, immediately, that he’s an Electrician.  Bob the Mechanic.  Sam the Nurse.  Polly the Plumber.  Mikey the Chef. It’s immediate, and resonant, and salient, and impactful.  Also, you’ve already framed what you do in a context that the potential client (or, in my case, victim. . .I mean, alleged victim), understands.

When we disambiguate, we make what could otherwise be confusing, or time-wasting, both less confusing and more efficient, at least from the standpoint of the potential client.  Think about it.  While the term isn’t really hard to understand, Esthetician isn’t the most common word in the world.  Even our brothers and sisters in the cosmetology world mostly call themselves hairdressers, hairstylists, colorists, or whatever.  Yes, some refer to themselves as cosmetologists, but most of the people I know in that field say they’re “beauticians.”  Got it.  Beauty.  Pretty.  Me.

And what about Skincare?  Well, people get it.  Immediately.  They know skin.  They know care.  Skincare.  Almost as easy as Lunch Lady (“Hello, I’m Clara, and I’m a Lunch Lady”).  They just get it.

Does disambiguation work?  I dunno, only time will tell.  But I changed the name of my company to Southwest Skincare, and my title to Skincare Specialist.  And already, I’ve noticed a difference.  I spend less time describing myself (“Whut the hell’s that?”), and more time describing what I do and why a potential client should care.  Am I more than just, um, skincare?  Well, yeah.  But mostly people don’t care, and, anyway, I now have more time to expand on what “else” I do besides skincare.

Now, if only I didn’t crack up every time I said, or wrote. . . disambiguation.

 

30-30-30

Welcome to James’s Blog.  This is where I’ll post the stuff I think is interesting, or relevant, or possibly even absolutely necessary to your continuing survival, or the survival of the country, or the planet, or whatever.  Except possibly Andromeda.  I don’t much care for Andromeda.  And yes, I meant the Galaxy, and not the figure from Greek Mythology.

So, let’s go over the rules governing James’s Blog, by which I mean, how I do things.  You can do whatever you want, within the bounds of the law.  Hopefully, that includes reading the blog.  Here we go:

1.  James’s Blog is a general purpose blog.  It’s like my brain dump, but hopefully better organised.  However, within this steaming pile of dreck I hope to observe some small modicum of organisation.
For example, and not the only one, by the way, but, for example, I’ll almost always “tag” the title bar with a Topic Area,  like, say, oh, Marketing.  Or Neurophysiology.  Or Food Porn.  Whatever.  That way, it’s only a matter of milliseconds before you can reject it and get on with your day.

2.  Whenever I refer to someone (i.e. “I know a plumber named Big Al”), you can be almostly completely certain I’m making up the name.  And maybe the profession, but usually not.  The point of these falsities is to protect those people and their privacy insofar as possible.  I bring this up both to be completely clear as to my motivations, but also to make sure YOU understand that I will be using elements of fiction sometimes to get a point across.  Having said all the above, if I tell you “his/her real name” then you can be sure it’s their real name.  I can’t freakin’ believe I have to explain this.

3.  Like the previous para, this is another explanation.  Unless I tell you, or demonstrate, in some OVERTLY clear way, that something is to be taken as fact, you should assume that every word, and most of the spaces, in this blog are my personal opinion.  It’s what I THINK, not what I’m claiming some expert knowledge about, and no specific powers of greater authority than that should be assumed to inhere herein.  I know that was babble, but I’ve ALWAYS wanted to say that.  Say it with me won’t you?  Inhere herein, inhere herein.  It’s just, I dunno, nice on the tongue.  As am I.  Oh, I almost forgot.  The above assumed to be almost always true in every way, if I tell you I know something for a fact (usually, I’m being a hothead about something), then I probably know it for a fact.  Of course, the term “know it for a fact” has syntactical problems of its own, but I’ll work on that and get back to you.

4.  I’m sure other rules will occur to me from time to time, and I may just perform a wheeling maneuver one of these days and revoke any, or all, of these rules, but for now, let’s just go with what we have.  And, seriously, please enjoy the blog.

5.  Of course, it goes without saying, but please feel free to offer topic suggestions or just drop fun stuff in.  Just remember, you’re not the boss of me.  By the way, has ANYONE, other than a TV writer, actually ever used this line?  Why can’t it be “You’re not my boss” or even better “Bite me, you’re not in charge!”?  I’m asking.