I’m going to start a new bjournal of reviews of movies that Richard watches that I don’t want to see but end up listening to while I’m in the kitchen or dining room doing something else. All of these movies tend to star either Will Smith or Jason Statham (have they been in a movie together? And is it called “KELLY DON’T RENT THIS”?).
Spoiler alert, but probably not:
Seven Pounds: This is a movie about Will Smith yelling at a blind guy, but I don’t know if it’s because he’s a jerk or if he’s trying to justify killing himself and giving his corneas to Woody Harrelson. Also it sounds like the guy who plays Abed on “Community” is in one of the scenes, but Richard said that he wasn’t. When I walked into the living room Rosario Dawson was wearing a cute dress but looked really yellow, so maybe she had a liver condition. The movie isn’t over yet, but I bet he doesn’t have the guts to kill himself. Seven pounds of organs! Gross, just in time for Halloween.
The movie finished. He died.
Now that I have edited my life’s goals to include only watching seasons three and four of “Lost,” I thought I would create more of a burden on myself by revisiting the “I want to make the best fried chicken in the world” dream I used to have. Fried chicken isn’t even especially complicated. It’s just chicken plus egg wash plus flour and spices. And oil. And secrets. It just seems like a lot of work for something that can easily be purchased at Lee’s or Ukrop’s (my top picks).
At first I was going to use Martha’s salt and pepper chicken recipe from the last Living, then I thought “no one tells me how to make fried chicken!” Using inspiration from Michael Ruhlman’s “Ratio,” a book that teaches the science and basics of different recipes to unchain us from cookbooks (though I still use it as a cookbook — I’m not going to remember all of those ratios), I decided to wing it. How difficult could fried chicken be?
In the end I used the damn recipe. I had to cut a whole chicken up, which was a first for me but took about twelve times longer than it should have because I had to stop every minute to reflect on how gross it was. Then I had to make stock, which I didn’t want either but it would have been dumb to waste a chicken. The chicken itself was far from a fail. The honey brine was a great move, Marth. I would make it again.
Anyway, I find that even when I do wing a recipe I’m still basically recalling a recipe I’ve already made. I don’t think I’d be good at making them up. Also, we just watched the “Man Vs. Food” where he was in Memphis, and now need to return immediately. I didn’t know about Gus’s Fried Chicken! The sign says it’s famous.
And here is a pumpkin that is growing in my garden, right after I gave up on it for the year. I think the frost will kill it before it brings down the fence with its pumpkin glory.
Let’s run down a list of accomplishments, in no order of significance:
Men on the moon
Firework displays that are in the shape of things
What a world! Considering advances in science and technology, why is there a movie poster on which none of the actors’ heads look like they belong on their bodies? There are probably hours on a movie set where the actors are hanging out, doing nothing. There wasn’t a spare minute to say, “hey, guy from ‘Star Wars,’ sit in this chair and wear this hat”? Is T.I.’s head that much bigger than his body? This is like one of those “Elf Yourself” gags, but for a gangster movie.