The Next Top Chef Likes His Fish Fresh
**La Primera actually posted, interested parties should continue to scroll down, rather than immediately finishing my post and lighting a cigarette to complete that nice feeling of satisfaction you get after reading my entries**
"Ahhhh, Red Snapper! Mmmmm, very tasty. Okay, Weaver, listen carefully. You can hold on to your red snapper...or you can go for what's in the box that Hiro-San is bringing down the aisle right now! What's it gonna be? "
"I'll take the box. The box!!"
Fresh fish and television go together like sushi and sake…baseball and beer…peanut butter and jelly…politicians and psychosis.
Armed with these analogous truisms, I decided to follow Master P's suggestion and give the reality cooking competition "Top Chef" a chance to reel me in. After watching for a few minutes, I couldn't help but picture what chef Gordon Ramsey from Hell's Kitchen would be saying, "Too FUCKING salty you stupid donkey!"
Well, he might say something like that, but then he'd eventually say something like what I was thinking, "Holy shit, I know that guy. That's B. Malarkey!"
I used to deliver fresh fish to all the high class dining establishments in Minneapolis. That included the city's finest seafood restaurant, The Oceanaire. After wheeling it up to the second floor, baked out of my mind, Brian Malarkey would inspect the fish and then sign for it...initialing his first name to draw attention to that rediculous last name.
He had an interesting habit of picking up each individual fish filet and looking at each one closely. When he found a "bad" one his face showed the signs of disgust and richeous indignation. "That's crap," he'd say, then he'd violently throw the filet back in the box, along with all the other filets that passed his inspection, and demand that I return them all.
I once fought back, suggesting that they all looked delicious to me. He reacted strangely. His mood switched immediately to nervous dispair. He started wringing his hands and quickly sat down, rocking back and forth in his seat...his eyes began to well with tears.
<------The Youngest, last September
"Hey, take it easy B. Malarkey," I said soothingly, "I was just messin' with ya."
He quickly stood up and slapped my face with a violent blow, the richeous indignation was back. His eyes showed tyrannical fury. Then he moved in close to me and began waving his arms in the air all around me as if casting a spell, all the while chanting strange words in a loud, shrieking voice. I slowly backed out of the kitchen, leaving the fish behind.
The next day, a quart of fish juice spilled in my van during a high speed delivery. A mystically fishy scent remains to this day.
Now he's competing against other chefs to win fame and fortune.
In the last episode, B. Malarkey actually won a barbecue challenge to avoid elimination with the help of his seafood sausage. He referred to it as a Chino Latino inspired dish. Chino Latino is another quality Minneapolis restaurant. I delivered them fresh fish as well. Chino Latino never asked me to return anything and I never saw them cast a single spell. It's also the last place that I ate sushi in Minneapolis.
Ahhhhh, Minneapolis…you are my red snapper, you are my surprise mystery box.
**After minor research, it appears that B. Malarkey started in Minneapolis and then moved to California to help open a new Oceanaire. There is no update since then that I can find in his bio. I can tell you this , though, he was back in Minneapolis last summer. I never forget a signature. Plus he's cooking dishes inspired by a Minneapolis restaurant.
"You took the box? Let's see what's in the box!"
"Nothing! Absolutely Nothing! STUPID! You're so
STU-PIIIIIIID!"
Anyway, I find all of this incredibly inspirational...
Haiku Time!
Little salmon roll
Why do you sit there so raw?
My joke was not mean
Oh, tuna you live
among white rice and seaweed
Don’t splash in the soy!
The eyes of the chef
Look hard for imperfection
Does he know I'm baked?
Jesus liked to fish
And was a fisher of men
Not big on hunting
"Ahhhh, Red Snapper! Mmmmm, very tasty. Okay, Weaver, listen carefully. You can hold on to your red snapper...or you can go for what's in the box that Hiro-San is bringing down the aisle right now! What's it gonna be? "
"I'll take the box. The box!!"
Fresh fish and television go together like sushi and sake…baseball and beer…peanut butter and jelly…politicians and psychosis.
Armed with these analogous truisms, I decided to follow Master P's suggestion and give the reality cooking competition "Top Chef" a chance to reel me in. After watching for a few minutes, I couldn't help but picture what chef Gordon Ramsey from Hell's Kitchen would be saying, "Too FUCKING salty you stupid donkey!"Well, he might say something like that, but then he'd eventually say something like what I was thinking, "Holy shit, I know that guy. That's B. Malarkey!"
I used to deliver fresh fish to all the high class dining establishments in Minneapolis. That included the city's finest seafood restaurant, The Oceanaire. After wheeling it up to the second floor, baked out of my mind, Brian Malarkey would inspect the fish and then sign for it...initialing his first name to draw attention to that rediculous last name.
He had an interesting habit of picking up each individual fish filet and looking at each one closely. When he found a "bad" one his face showed the signs of disgust and richeous indignation. "That's crap," he'd say, then he'd violently throw the filet back in the box, along with all the other filets that passed his inspection, and demand that I return them all.
I once fought back, suggesting that they all looked delicious to me. He reacted strangely. His mood switched immediately to nervous dispair. He started wringing his hands and quickly sat down, rocking back and forth in his seat...his eyes began to well with tears.<------The Youngest, last September
"Hey, take it easy B. Malarkey," I said soothingly, "I was just messin' with ya."
He quickly stood up and slapped my face with a violent blow, the richeous indignation was back. His eyes showed tyrannical fury. Then he moved in close to me and began waving his arms in the air all around me as if casting a spell, all the while chanting strange words in a loud, shrieking voice. I slowly backed out of the kitchen, leaving the fish behind.
The next day, a quart of fish juice spilled in my van during a high speed delivery. A mystically fishy scent remains to this day.
Now he's competing against other chefs to win fame and fortune.
In the last episode, B. Malarkey actually won a barbecue challenge to avoid elimination with the help of his seafood sausage. He referred to it as a Chino Latino inspired dish. Chino Latino is another quality Minneapolis restaurant. I delivered them fresh fish as well. Chino Latino never asked me to return anything and I never saw them cast a single spell. It's also the last place that I ate sushi in Minneapolis.
Ahhhhh, Minneapolis…you are my red snapper, you are my surprise mystery box.
**After minor research, it appears that B. Malarkey started in Minneapolis and then moved to California to help open a new Oceanaire. There is no update since then that I can find in his bio. I can tell you this , though, he was back in Minneapolis last summer. I never forget a signature. Plus he's cooking dishes inspired by a Minneapolis restaurant.
"You took the box? Let's see what's in the box!"
"Nothing! Absolutely Nothing! STUPID! You're so
STU-PIIIIIIID!"
Anyway, I find all of this incredibly inspirational...
Haiku Time!
Little salmon roll
Why do you sit there so raw?
My joke was not mean
Oh, tuna you live
among white rice and seaweed
Don’t splash in the soy!
The eyes of the chef
Look hard for imperfection
Does he know I'm baked?
Jesus liked to fish
And was a fisher of men
Not big on hunting
Labels: Al Gore, Brian Malarkey, Chino Latino, Gordon Ramsey, Hell's Kitchen, Jesus Christ, Magic, Nintendo Wii, Oceanaire, Red Snapper, Sake, Singing Fish, Spells, Sushi, Top Chef, UHF, Weird Al Yankovic
posted by The Youngest at 4:53 PM
5 Comments:
The story has even more comedic value if you had a picture of yourself in those (relatively recent) days: Sloppy long hair, patchy unshaven facial hair, and work pants*)
*dirty cargo pants and ripped, paint-stained shirts
I only have that super bad ass license picture to remind me. I dunno how good of a picture I can get out of it
That'll have to do
You misspelled "righteous"
your haikus are truly brilliant. they are your calling. you must make a book of them.
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