Friday, September 25, 2009

H is for Holy Grail.

The hunt is over. For one pair at least. Still a couple more out there, but the white with safety orange trim from 2001 can be removed from the list. I saw it grazing in a valley and BLABOW!!!- blew it's motherfucking brains out. Nah- never that, because then the white would have stained. Just a little arsenic in the grass. A gentle death.

I loved this "pack" when they dropped back in '01. It's not fair to call them a pack because Nike wasn't branding it that way back then, but they would drop very similar kicks within the same time frame. I had the varsity blue and varsity reds. Never had the orange or the reeds- a khaki colorway. The leather on these is quality, and real leather. Lightly rippled and soft. The mesh lining has extra cushioning and provides more comfort than mostly any other AF1 I've worn. The simplicity is the appeal. No need to be loud. Just keep it cool baby, keep it cool. There was a pair on ebay for a while for close to $140 shipped. I must have watched it for a year until one day it was gone. And I kicked myself for weeks. I spend money on such bullshit, but when something I want is within striking distance I fall back. Makes no fucking sense. I guess the thrill of the hunt is the hunt, so by keeping it alive, I perpetuated the adrenaline rush every time I saw them there. Just a little psychoanalysis from your boy How. So when these appeared on the bay right before the Manifest Destiny trip I copped with the quickness.

They are worn. I admit it, I copped a pair of used kicks. But based on the pics and the price ($40 + shipping) I had to do it. The wear looked minimal, and it definitely was, however there is slight yellowing on the right sneaker. From experience I know this happens, especially to pairs from that era, but the pics looked clorox status. A flash can really be misleading. Whatever, I'm happy I have them and I just need to keep my eyes open for a brand new pair.

The fitted could have gotten top billing, but the kicks have an emotional attachment so they won out. But the hat. Tell me it isn't the flavors. I dare you. The good people at Pegasus- what up Juice and Aubrey- blessed the kid with this joint. Was it made for me? Maybe so, maybe no (cue Mayer Hawthorne now). But it was definitely meant to be rocked by me. Hickory Crawdads in a light brown (amber, caramel, mocha??) with an orange bill and button. Black H with the orange mudbug. I have no clue who created this logo- but I want to marry your daughter. No, seriously. Your genius must have seeped into her so our babies will be brilliant. I saw the design sheet for this months back and was expecting a darker brown, but was pleasantly surprised with this. Never had a cap this color and it matches these wildwoods I have to a T (please see below).

And since 1 isn't enough I had to double up. This time with the alternate jumpoff. Again, buttahfingas.

A claw clenching a baseball. Genius?? Apparently. A simple black and white cap is a necessity when you're trying to keep that swag under control. But hold on. This shit glows in the dark, no Kanye. Doesn't work too well though. Need to have it directly under a light bulb for a good minute just to get some illumination.

We're building a nice little family here. All get along. No snapping claws. Harmony.

See? Matching is so 2010. Get your game up.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Howfresh x Ralph Lauren aka HRL.

Ralph Lauren is the fucking man. After years of letters, phone calls, faxes, door knocks, borderline harassment, etc. I finally have my initials on a Polo hoodie. The official collabo. Shit almost brought me to tears. True story.

I wasn't even trying to cop anything. Just peeping the product following a Giants loss to the Padres. Great pitching, terrible hitting. Hit the San Fran Westfield Center- a dope building with a crazy dome/rotunda that houses mad stores. Bloomies, Nordstrom, fly shit like that. Howfresh loves to spend money. If he sees something he likes, he usually cops. I have no idea why we're 3rd personing it right now. Throw an H on it and you know I'm out the door with it.

I found myself in the Polo section looking for a come-up and BAM!!!! I see this beautiful thing. Red hoodie with a black and white "HRL" stitched on the left breast. Vintage varsity type letters. Wow. What's better than an H? HRL- the kid's initials. I lost my shit. Definite cop. Then the Sales Professional- tell me that shit ain't fancy- hits me with this sales pitch to sign up for a Bloomies card and to tell me about the sale that's going down on Friday, the 11th. Only problem being that it was Wed. and I was hitting the big bird on Friday. He concocts this whole plan to make it happen. Calls at the airport, refunded purchases, etc. I go along with it. Just get me that hoodie. Part of the deal was spending $150 to get an additional amount off plus a discount with the new card. So I snatch this Polo on sale- mad busy with a huge "5" ( I prefer even numbers), settle up and bounce. Did I mention there was a black hoodie too?

So I'm using the lovely Bloomies' restroom. I'm telling you- whenever you have business to attend to, the Bloomies's banos are top notch. Clean, always plentiful in the TP, never busy, and smell nice. You can keep your dignity while dropping doozies. So I'm throwing water on my face to grab that extra oxygen and it dawns on me, "I don't want that shirt. I might as well just hard body that shit and cop the black joint too." So I head back to homeboy and tell him the news. He's psyched cause his commission goes up and I'm glad I didn't piss any loot away on a rather bone shirt. The best part- I reached the higher plateau for the sale so I get 2 hoodies retailing at $145 each for a total of $191 shipped to my door. H. R. motherfucking L.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Plaxico, Step Your Steak Game Up.

Plaxico didn't do terrible, but he could have done better.

At approximately 3:45 pm yesterday word leaked (twitted actually) that Plaxico's "last supper" meal before getting thrown in the clink was at Del Frisco's steakhouse and consisted of the crab cake appetizer, oysters, shrimp remoulade and a bone-in ribeye. I can dig the 3:1 seafood to land animal ratio. Most steak houses usually carry a decent raw bar so I'm cool with that because otherwise you can't order oysters just anywhere. (The Pacific NW oyster post is in the works so hold tight.)

I'm very pleased with his choice of bone-in rib eye (pause?). But I am disappointed too. NYC is full of steak houses, and while Del Frisco's might be in the upper echelon (I've never been but a friend of mine that wears a diamond pinky ring swears by it), there are much better options for a rib-eye, namely Strip House. Yeah, yeah, I know you're supposed to order the namesake cut, but there are aberrations to the rule and this is clearly one of them.

I had wanted to write about this meal and thanks to Plaxico's poor judgment (twice) I have been given a 2nd chance to relive this fine feast. It all happened on a whim following the Rosenberg Noisemakers event with Q-Tip at 92Y Tribeca close to 5 months ago. It was approximately 10:50 pm and hunger was at the door. My boy was on some fine dining shit so I followed suit. Mary's Fish Camp was closed and Strip House was next in line. Called them up to see hours- they were closing at 11 but would take an order over the phone and we could eat at the bar. From jump SH was trying to win.

Royalty the minute we walked through the door. 2 place settings at the bar with an onion soup amuse bouche waiting to be enjoyed. I can honestly say this was my first amuse bouche EVER. Fanciness has its privileges. Time to step my posh game up.

And then it emerged. 22 oz. bone in Rib Eye prepared Medium Rare. The marbling was perfect and the thin layer of fat around the edges gently hugged the aged beef. Butter soft. Perfect char on the shell. A little salt, pepper and possibly some other spices (garlic maybe?). Delicious. Daddy Warbuck's rich. It must have been cooking in a stick of butter. I couldn't finish it but so wanted to. I had to have the plate removed from me because it was about to head downhill aka involuntary liquid removal status. Figure a 22 oz. steak is 16-18 oz. without the bone. Chances are that nowadays I could knock one out with my current eating regimen.

Steak without sauteed mushrooms is sin in my book. The 2 flavors complement themselves so well. Strip House offers a hefty portion of wild mushrooms. Nothing fancy. Just right. I actually might have made the mistake of eating too many shrooms thus the extra steak left on my plate. Live and learn.

Creamed spinach is another steakhouse mainstay, and SH takes it to another level. This is what Foxy was singing about when she dropped, it takes just like candy. Black Truffle Creamed Spinach. What more is there to say. I'd have been on my popeye shit as a youngster if this was put on the plate. I could have inhaled this through a straw. Sweet, delicate, decadent. Spinach with swag most definitely.

The H seal of approval. This wasn't a cheap meal, figure $50 per steak with sides running $10-$15. Add several beers to the mix and you can cop a nice pair of kicks (total for 2). My boy looked out and I didn't even have to put out- good looking Marky B. Sitting at the bar I wasn't able to fully absorb the interior, but the place is dark with red tones with a burlesque feel- minus the ladies. The booths appeared to have privacy- great for creepers. Probably a nice date place but who wants to be with a chick that can inhale a 22oz piece of meat- ayyyyyyyooooo. Unless of course "she take a bone like a rib eye steak at Ruth Chris". I got to give Ghostface credit for that one.

Plax, if by chance you're reading this, I don't want you to be down on yourself for choosing the wrong steak. Just think of what you have to look forward once the bid is up.

Strip House
13 E. 12th St. between 5th Ave. and University
New York, NY 10003
Mon - Sat 5pm - 11:15pm
Sun 5pm - 10pm

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Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Next Time I'm in Church, Please No Photos.

"Yes Kanye, that was rude", says the divine one. But he forgives and still rocks the Kanye piece. When I saw this in Portland I literally SOLed, translated- Snickered Out Loud. My jargon is a bit too advanced for LOL. That shit was/is funny. I thought I couldn't cop it, but changed my mind midstroke. Must have been the Jewish thing. And who would have predicted the shit-storm that was to ensue. Not that Yetuda's (sounds so Semitic) track record says otherwise, but still. I never liked the dude, HATE 808s and Heartbreaks (right Dallas?), but can appreciate good music, which he makes from time to time. And his verse on "Run This Town" puts Jay to shame so my hate has been tempered as of late. Did I tell you I love Portland?

This shirt is more apropos but the hate is too blatant. I rather spit my vitriol quietly. Not to say I want to throw and duck, just no need to bleed hate because that shows weakness. Freshjive is HATING HARD, but in a healthy way. Go in, Go In!! I peeped this in Seattle, though I'm sure it's in NYC. The Pacific NW is killing the fashion game. NYC step your game up.

Now I finally have something to rock with my Yeezys. That shit just makes me a doper person. True indeed. I don't even know why I still own these. I made the easiest $150 when some sap, I mean cool dude, traded me (plus cash) the exact pair, exact size, because there was a tiny glue mark on his. I thought I was getting punked, but his boy said that he's really a lunatic and I tend to agree. I don't mean to badmouth an enabler of mine, but damn, this sneaker game is out of control. So if you need that 11.5 holla at me. But make sure the paper isn't Rav 4 status. Kanye would most definitely not approve. But we fucks with the bee stings. Holla at the itty bitty titty committee.

And I'm back. Did I tell you I love Portland?