Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Flat White, Brunswick East Project, East Brunswick

I'm glad my last coffee in Melbourne (until I get back from overseas) was as good as this one:

Okay, I've gotta be at the airport at 4.00am. Better go do important things, most of them at the laundromat. The blog will have to scale back to part-time for a while. Considering giving up coffee for a few weeks. That will make for some interesting blogging, but unfortunately I won't be able to write about it until I have another coffee. Hmm.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Big Star deserves your attention: latte, home

I cannot stop listening to this:

I'm filing Big Star under Wish I'd Checked This Out Fifteen Years Ago.

Selling out: Latte, home

I've been meaning to dedicate a whole post to Curtis Stone being a dirty stinkin' sellout, but that really is last year's news, and as such I probably shouldn't write about it. Only yesterday I was denouncing the Sunday Age for passing off last year's news as current. Also, I never ever ever ever ever watch Masterchef, so I'm hardly qualified.

But the more you look around, the more sellouts you will find. Wherever there's a respected expert in some field, there'll be someone offering them money to cash in on their reputation. Unfortunately, nearly* everyone has their price. Here's a question you probably don't want to answer:
Was Professor Julius Sumner Miller a sellout?

I'd go with, "Not necessarily."
Selling chocolate to kids is like shooting fish in a barrel, really, so I don't know why you need such a formidable weapon as Professor Julius Sumner Miller to get the job done. He had been all over the television teaching kids about science in his mad, blackboard-scribbling way for a long time. But there must be a way to get the message across to those who might be interested in science but don't even know it yet. What better way to get kids' attention for educational purposes than through their chocolate?
This doesn't quite translate to the Curtis Stone situation: anybody watching Coles ads is probably already aware of the existence of supermarkets. But his appearance in the Coles ad is just one strategy in the Masterchef war to get people into their kitchens. And make shitloads of cash.
On the other hand we have Mrs Marsh, whose motives were less clear. The Colgate ads she appeared in were aimed quite squarely at kids, but how many kids go out and buy toothpaste? I still have no idea what that chalk and blue liquid shit is about:

* Tom Waits has no price. He has a history of winning court cases against companies who use music similar to his in their advertising.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Espresso, home

The following was revealed in the Sunday Age today:
  • there are blogs about food called "food blogs"
  • some of them are good, some of them are not
  • restaurateurs either like or dislike them
In other news, last September called and wants its story back. 
I've said it before, kids. Do not bother reading the Sunday Age, even if you don't have to pay for it.

Latte, Pelican, St Kilda

My phone's battery was flat this morning, but I wasn't going to let that bring me down. I'm not that tied to my technology. Far from it. If any emails or missed calls or texts came through, they could wait until I got back to my charger. I was just out for breakfast. The only consequences would be that I couldn't take a photo of my coffee for the blog. I figured it was unlikely that I would see anything else that would make me regret not having a camera on my person, or anyone else nearby's person for that matter.

But that was before I walked down the Esplanade and saw a whippet in a denim jacket. That's the kind of moment that keeps Kodak in business.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Stovetop, Steve's house

There are quite a few posts missing from this week, but most of them looked a lot like this:

One cup of coffee, one amplifier, one microphone stand, the slab* I'm sitting on, and the worst chart I've ever written.
Eb 3 3 3 4 D 3 3 3 4 etc.
Luckily, I'm the only one who has to read it. I did a nice, legible one in Sibelius for other bass players. But for my purposes, I figured all I needed to write down to remember this song was the root note of the chord, and how many beats are in the bar. That says a lot about Kelsey's tunes: the piano and the melody do enough of the work already, the bass player need only play the tonic at the start of each bar, but you really have to know how long that bar's gonna be.

* The slab has hot water pipes running through it. For when it's so cold outside only Ancient Rome's finest heating technology will do.