plantar fasciitis. it’s a pretty word, fun to say. fascia is a cool physiological element, the good stuff that ties it all together…until one of your fascia begins to deterioriate, tears away from the heel bone, and catalyzes painful red hot inflammation. so this is what i have to say to plantar fasciitis, the extremely common, classic ailment that will befall many of us at least once in our lifetime:

(he’s flippin’ the bird. see?)

(“i may be living in a brand spankin’ new world class groundbreaking scientific facility but i will NEVER bow down to the machine! i AM the pretty hate machine, bitches!!!”)

as i write this, i’ve popped 400 mg of ibuprofen and my left heel/arch is propped atop a frozen plastic bottle of dr. pepper on the floor. the three tenets of healing plantar fasciitis are: ice, ibuprofen, and arch support. oh, and an exercise that stretches out the achilles. quite simple on my good leg, and awkward and irritating on my bad leg.

i hate whining, truly i do, but this thing has been a sonuvabitch!

first of all, i really hate hobbling like elephant man / smeagol hunting for fish. gimpiness is lame. literally.

second of all, yeah, it hoits like a mutha. last night was the worst, the kind of throbbing pain that makes you want to punch yourself (does that make sense?). taking a shower was challenging. couldn’t soap up the good foot, could barely get out of the bathtub without it being scene. who wants to sponge bathe me?

third, my plantar facia has a REALLY $HITTY SENSE OF TIMING. next tuesday morning, i embark on a scary, anxiety-ridden adventure: HK for work (i’ll be at the hk international arts & antiques fair…it’s pure luck, won’t happen ever again), and then directly to taipei for a travel tour with *gulp* my mom, stepdad, and sister (whew) for like 10 straight days. i’m thrilled, but it’ll certainly be a test of my patience and character. as we all know, traveling = immense concrete pounding. and being staffed at a booth at an international art fair means standing (and smiling) a lot, which i’m not supposed to do.

and y’all know how much i love walking, especially on travel.

so i’m gonna cross my fingers (HARD) and hope that this pup heals itself before i am in schlepping-tons-of-luggage-while-getting-to-my-gate-at-the-airport mode, which is actually the kind of thing that strains your plantar fascia. if it still persists when i land in the “orient,” well, then…i’m F#*@ed. can you imagine being in hong kong and taiwan and not being able to enjoy it? those places were meant for exploration. maybe this is what elderly senior citizens experience when they’re abroad. oh, i didn’t just say that.

how do you avoid being pathetic like me? ARCH SUPPORT, people, and lots of it. not to mention avoiding standing for extended periods of time, especially while carrying heavy things. i dropped $30 at kaiser for some superfeet (yes that’s the brand) insoles cuz i was that scurrred and ready to support dem arches. flats (what we all intuitively thought were god’s gift to women’s sartorial shoe problems) are terrible for your tootsies, so go get some FIRM insoles. none of that gel stuff. flip flops are malicious too, unless they come with support.

now i am hellbent on a serious mission: find TWO good pairs of shoes for my trip. i need sexy stylish ones for HK with a mini heel (good for your feet) because i already have an inferiority complex and these patrons are gonna be the chic, beautiful kind. i must feel professional and confident (but jenn, doesn’t confidence come from within?). i also need something to let my feet breathe in muggy, humic taiwan. birkenstocks make some sassy good looking products. so i’ll need to find some of those. and while we’re at it, how about some quality engineered sneakers? not as important i guess, since i just slide the insoles into my sauconys (thick soles) and they feel nice.

welp, if anyone has any tips on where to find ergonomic orthotic shoes (oh dear), lemme know. i’ve occasionally walked into a walking company store but immediately turned around cuz let’s face it, am i gonna wear trollish merrills or mephistos anytime soon? i might as well buy a walking stick. never! but still, i’ll try to put my superficial vanity aside for the sake of health. there’s gotta be a happy medium, right?

sure i’m being a baby, but really, i hope to look back on this one day and be reminded to keep it real with my plantar fasciiti and treat them right with supportive TLC. i’ve learned not to take for granted even the simple joys of being normally bipedal. i almost can’t remember what it’s like to walk without struggling like igor. this $hit is no joke!

tan and steve sample a peculiar dish in seoul (tan was visiting, and steve moved there for school). looks like they’re at a street stand. pretty cray cray! i have so many questions for them…

eric is cantankerous, moody, wears scary alan moore jewelry, scowls a lot, and loves to ridicule others if they’re not “metal.” but underneath all that bristly crust is someone who gives big warm hugs, makes funny wisecracks, and always checks in to hang out.

awhile ago, we drew together in a pearl tea shop after dinnerm and it was pleasant. i was surprised i could actually generate anything, having originally resigned myself to being a spectator and not a participant, but i guess i got into it.

i subsequently sketched eric while he was drawing (i later ruined his work), and he said he looked a lot older in my drawing (not shown). commenting on it, i said “hey he’s pretty good looking!” wryly, he responded, “of course you think he’s handsome, he’s like 20 years older.” hardy har har.

ps – while we’re somewhat on the topic of crom, i can’t believe that brett ratner might direct conan….W T F.

man i’ve spent a big chunk of the day working on MATCHA, and now it’s time for a five minute breather wherein i babble incoherently about random nothings.

jeff’s collection brought back so many memories. we all had that lion-o figure, with the swinging arm action. when i was a kid i had a crush on tigra. he was so handsome. derek had one on cheetara. you wouldn’t believe the drrrty ideas we’ve exchanged about her over a mediocre cheese steak. eric c. reminds me of panthro. i love it when todd does his schhhhhnaaaarf impression. i always liked how they outlined the muzzles of their faces.

okay back to work.

the best in the west nugget rib cook-off in sparks (reno), nevada. we went, we devoured, we conquered.

it was A M A Z I N G.
i was so elated to cross “go to cook off” off my life’s to-do list. as insanely decadent as it was, i find myself craving ribs more than ever before. you’d think i’d never want to touch a half rack again, but since our return home i’ve had ribs twice from my neighborhood corner joint, roadside bbq.

before i launch into a recap of our pilgrimage of decadence, extra big ups to peg for driving and jeff’s family for hosting us in sacto at “chateau d’chew.”

we get in late friday night and settle into our jammies after a satisfying meal of homemade curry, frozen taquitos, mini corn dogs, and almond tofu. i pop my scrabble cherry (yes, it’s my first time) to the most intense battle of vocabulary mastery and wit. like trying to learn the art of war, board game style. here’s everyone when the game commences, eager and alive:

and here’s me like five hours into it. pretty much captures my exhausted, slaughtered spirit

the next morning we find this on the kitchen counter. AWWWWWWWWWWWW

being in the house in which jeff grew up is illuminating and touching. i get to see photos of baby jeff, little jeff, angsty jeff. we all fall in love with jeff’s parents too. they’re so charming!

after some diddle daddling, we board the silver bullet, reno-bound. jeff’s parents walk us out. as this happens, an epiphany strikes: every one should be seen off by warm parents with their arms around each other. it’s a poignant sight. they don’t stop smiling and waving until we drive off. is this on maslov’s hierarchy of needs pyramid? because i think it does cultivate healthy adults

i find the drive over donner summit a little daunting. i offer to give peg — the wknd road warrior — a massage but we nervously joke how it would cause her to swerve off the road and into our tragic deaths (bellies devoid of ribs).

after two and a half hours, we reach wooster high school — a free shuttle stop. here i force peg and hilary to pose next to the sign while starving in the hot sun. by this point, we’re all famished and lusting for ribs, not to mention trying to contain an urgent need to urinate

we get there and it is EXCITING. as luck would have it, brigid finds us as we we enter the fray. brigid, a san ho, is the person who told me about the cook-off in the first place. she went the year she got engaged, during a roadtrip with her husband.

she points us in the right direction, our first booth! arizona, huh? okay…

they hawk tank tops declaring: “grip it and lick it,” and “just bone me.” i like them already!

ahhhh! by the time we actually get our ribs we are DYING WITH ANTICIPATION. seriously. these turn out to be the best ones at the entire event. who knew? no other vendors’ ribs were so perfect. many layers of textures and density, with tender meat falling off the bone. mmmm

ohhhh yeah. fire roasted corn. buttery and sweet, with kernels that burst with every bite. topped off with seasonings and hot sauce. deeeeeeeelish

next up, memphis bbq. i promptly rush to this one because brigid tips me off to its deep fried dill pickles. she says the ribs aren’t all that, which is disappointing because i wanted to find revelation in tennessee Q.

blinded by excitement and a lapse in reasoning, i pay for two orders of fried pickles because i envision whole breaded pickles. i’m wrong. these are good! not great, but tasty enough to munch on. the creamy sauce definitely saves it, otherwise the sodium overload would murder you.

peg double fists guava margaritas. very refreshing

hilary gets a big ol’ lemonade. tastes mostly like mediocre sugar water, with no natural citrus tang.

neva gives a cheer while jeff stares off into the horizon, plotting his next kill

well, well, well…what do we have here? up to that point, i’d been mentioning deep fried goodies every other second. the moment has come….

these are texas style taters, and as much as i covet them, i conclude that it’s best to stay away…

…and defer to these!

as well as these! neva holds the mythical zucchini spears. i have to request ranch sauce. are they crazy? they should know better than to leave the packets of creamy herb magic under the counter

we find respite in front of a caboose. we sit and prepare for consumption of the fried zucchini and onion rings

here, perhaps the most disgusting moment to befall the nugget cook-off. they are HUGE. and yes my arms are unimaginably greasy afterwards

jeff had the brilliant foresight to pack latex gloves. as creepy as it seems, it’s a smart idea. do you know how difficult it is to eat ribs in an outdoor setting as you’re trying to juggle a million other things? there’s only so much sauce and fat you can wipe on your legs.

after the grease feast, we head here

jeff eats sausage with a gloved hand. great! the skin crispily snaps in your mouth, yielding juicy soft bitefuls of flavorful meat.

i’m going to fast forward here and bypass photos of all the different booths. you can see them here if you want. the showmanship is impressive and boastful, but after awhile they all look the same.

smoked turkey legs! admittedly, i’m not really feeling it, but neva is

so she stands in line and procures one. we pick off little fleshy bits and damn, that is one fine turkey leg! i am pleasantly surprised

refusing to give in and call it a day, i randomly allocate one last booth to be an accomplice in my swan song. i settle on a company from florida

it ends up being too syrupy sweet. sigh…

damn straight!

NOT COOL, dudes. i believe they’re from arkansas or kentucky. too bad, cuz we were jonesin for Q from way south

mr. melted eyeball

a few of these throughout the fair. says it all…

brushing red, red sauce all over the succulent racks

“it’s a love thing. you can’t bottle passion, but you can taste it!!” amen to that

by the time we get to the car, we’re all squashed

you’d think we won’t want to eat for the rest of the day, but soon after we return to chateau d’chew, we tap into the reserves (that jeff stealthily stowed away in latex gloves and ziplock bags) and gnaw away some more. we anxiously urge jeff’s parents to try the ribs — the best ones, from the arizona booth — that we bought before we left the cook-off

welp, that’s about it. rest assured, that won’t be my last rib cook-off. next up, a chili cook-off?

dunno what it is about this thing that makes me so giddy. it’s oddly adorable, yet a tad bit unnervingly creepy too. kinda looks like how i feel. strange, peculiar, ugly, but keeping its head up in knowing that it must be lovable to someone, somewhere.

sourced from a favorite o’ mine

ohhh chris cosentino, how you confuse my feelings. so passionate you are, yet armed with a cocky and somewhat surly demeanor. it’s respectable though, a common genotype amongst many talented chefs. here’s sf’s very own star celebrity and king of offal in a gourmet.com video. haven’t found a way to embed, so here’s the link.

(yes. he is shaving a pig’s snout)

DUDE. the reno nugget rib cook off. man. that’ll be an epic blog post. stay tuned. so much crazy fun. peg’s pix — replete with bon mot captions — can be seen here.

tea time at the asian art museum’s MATCHA is this thursday, so come one, come all. only $5 for tons of tea and filling people watching. paul weller’s playing at the fillmore the same night. tempted. what time do you think he’d take the stage?

for now, just some random eye candy (for me) in no particular order:

a desert island fruit. golden kiwi. sweeter and creamier than its fuzzy green testicular cousin. with a hint of pear. delish. kiwis are good for you. my friend’s elderly mom eats one every day, and she’s a plucky healthy lady. kiwis are also called “chinese gooseberries.” i had to throw that in there.

FINALLY tried universal cafe. crossed that one off my list. didn’t disappoint. braised beef brisket hash with poached egg, salsa verde, sour cream (or was it creme fraiche?), and perfectly roasted taters. the chunks of meat were juicy and flavorful. definitely will go back. quaint atmosphere. the clientele is very SF, but not in an obnoxious way.

another conquest i can jettison from the list: dynamo donut out in the mission. i think it’s a husband and wife operation, tiny and charming with soul. they peddle “gourmet donuts” and yes they’re quite delicious. $2.50 a pop may seem pricey for a donut, but consider these quality nuggets of sinful sweetness. i wanted to try their banana caramel (win-win combo), but alas, we got chocolate star anise (rich and dense), vanilla bean glaze (more airy), and orange ginger (they only had three flavors). it’s a cute walk up structure too. lots of caffeinated beverage options.

the corner of 18th and guerrero was a madhouse on labor day afternoon. it was kind of gross, but what kind of person would i be (i know i’m misanthropic) to shudder at happy shiny people (including dirty hipsters) enjoying good food and the nourishing sunshine? crestfallen that they were out of the banana cream pie (an all time jyin favorite), i got the bread pudding, topped off with caramel-y bananas. perfect custardy fuel for the bike ride home.

oh yes. the last thing the internets needs is another banal rant about slow food nation. i went to the marketplace on friday. ambivalence. however, i did pay an outrageous $6 for these little pups. thank god they were delicious though, and supposedly regional to the south. perfect buttery biscuits sandwiching velveting shavings of succulent ham. with a side of fresh preserves. expensive, but worth it. never heard of or tried ham biscuits, so a first for me. disappointing? the let’s be frank $7 hot dog. nuh uh.

ain’t no party like a ham hock party.

over the wknd, i also managed to knock off two photo assignments for eater. bar jules and range. it felt productive. ps – i think i’m going blind in my right eye.