Saturday, June 27, 2015

Mikesells Cincinnati Style Chili Chips

Founded in 1910, Mikesells is to Dayton Ohio what Grippos is to Cincinnati... A local, highly revered company known for their quality and taste. In the last couple years with all of the 'Taste contest' rigamorole running rampant, I'm interested in the final result and read related articles via the Internet, but I had yet to try them.

At one time, I can't say that I really like potato chips unless there was a bologna sandwich around that I would stack high between the slice of bread and the Bologna and then smash the sandwich that I must dictate per the pre-installed genetic memory.

When I seen Cincinnati Style Chili flavored potato chips, I finally crossed the flavored no-mans land and went for it. If you dig BBQ chips, like Grippos, the burn of the spices catch up to you the more you eat... These chips are like that, but it takes a decent portion to get to the same spot as Grippos BBQ chips and their associated burn... Flavor wise, these chili chips do taste like homemade Cincinnati Style Chili. I'm not sure what the reasoning is for the style of chip style, grooves, but I've been thinking it has something to do with chip flavoring and surface area of the chip... That's the best possible answer I can give.

What his all boils down to is do I like these chips enough to buy them again? The answer is yes. I would like to try a cheese-dip in conjunction with the next bag or maybe eat simultaneously with a cut-up mild-cheddar cheese block.

Monday, June 22, 2015

The Terrible, The Bad and Pleasant Ridge Chili

If there's one thing—just ONE thing (at least)—I can say for certain, it's that I am passionate about Cincinnati style chili. This can be proved using social-media and this blog. To myself and many others, chili is the alpha and omega of Cincinnati cuisine. Chili is one of the few traditions that I allow myself to uphold and defend. So, when my family and I convened at Pleasant Ridge Chili (PRC) and it was not only one of the worst meals I've ever been served, but also at a place a that was part of my childhood experience and held nothing but great memories... PRC... I felt betrayed to say the least.

Ranging the full-spectrum of bad service (and beyond) the waitress seemed in another world... Planet Rocky Mountain HIGH... Almost everyones order was wrong, the check seemed altered to reflect 'adjustments' that were made due to waitress errors, the portions were weak and not worth worth the price, plus taste-wise... Well, it just didn't taste good. Apparently you can fuck-up an egg sandwich with a side of fries. PRC proved that and much more this day.

The chili itself is what has motivated me to write this entire piece. Sure, there's good food, bad food, then there's Chili. I ordered a 'full order' three-way. I pointed out to the waitress that my order was wrong. "Excuse me ma'am. I ordered a FULL sized 3-Way..."

"That IS a full order 3-Way honey."

I was yelling obsinities in my mind, to myself. I resisted every urge to verbally say what I wanted to say due to the existence of my Mom, Dad, daughter and wife. The 3-way I was facing was equivalent to a Skyline or Gold Star small 3-way. I was instantly disappointed even before I took my first bite.

Then, I took my first bite... The spaghetti was soggy, watery, and over-cooked. The cheese was down-right gross and plastic-like ... The chili itself was scorched, un-tasteful and rather bland. The worst homemade Cincinnati-style chili I have ever made at home, still tasted better than what I was eating at PRC. If there were such thing as a 'Chili Certificate' or license upholding standards of size, taste and over-all quality when it came to chili, I would have immediately revoked PRC's in the name of food-crime, for serving below sub-par chili and took to blacking out everything on their menus that offered the foul tasting chili with a marker.

Then, as if things couldn't get worse... My daughter! finishing off her double-hotdog and cheese coney said "Mamaw! There's a hair on your sandwich!"

FUCK!!! Not this! Not my Mom: THE RELUCTANT WINNER OF THE PRC LOTTERY! The lady who recently died and was revived SIX times! My Mom deserves better! Of course it was on her last bite that she verified that it was, in fact, a 'black-curley' [hair]. She looked at me and said "Who is preparing the food back there?"

I felt the need to say something... Anything... "The cook-guy isn't wearing pants." But the damage was done. In her eyes she was screaming silent obsinities with me, as an alternative to vocalizing our disgust, and risking a melee or as my Mom calls it 'Hitting the Gravel.'

Then I hear, after the fact, in conversations with others relaying this experience verbally that slowly, PRC has been losing traditional die-hards for quite sometime. One story in particular involved a post-Everybodys Records in-store featuring a band called The Mono-Men which had ended in the entire band getting food-poisoning!

My family may not speak-up like we should during experiences like this. We tend to bite our tongues and move-on recounting the stories and instances later. Me? Well, I'm getting better about such happenings. The post-meal discussion was an amazing and intresting one. I promised my family that I will get even... Because I have the ultimate weapon in fights like this: I have words. Words always get the last word

I suggest you approach Plesant Ridge Chili carefully or preferably not at all.

Compositions Soundtrack: The Police, PVC, New Order, Epoxies

Saturday, June 20, 2015

The Hills Are Alive

[No] Thanks to my overconfidence with driving directions, "Oh, I got this!" My jaunt turned real sour, real fucking quick as the sun went down and I had yet to figure out where I was and SHOULD be... I officially classified myself as lost. and had to rely on asking strangers... Verily drunk strangers drinking stupid beers who had been monitoring the show from a couple streets down... I asked if they were having bands at their house... "Nah dude but you can hear the bands from here!" Recognizing (from bandcamp listens) that SLUG SALT were playing and sounded great and I was within ear-shot of my intended destination

Tired from driving, but revved to finally getting to the show, I opted to pull directly into the houses driveway rather than park, and walk to the house-show from the apartment complex that, yeah, was across the street but not directly across the street. My parking job was akin to chain-locking an escape hatch shut. Escape wasn't an option for anyone I blocked-in... Not anymore that is.

I may have been late but I left my sourness go. At  least, during my ride, I realized how great "U.F.O." by Slaughter and The Dogs really was and listened to it a record-tying with Neil Youngs "Mr. Soul", five times in a row. IN A ROW!

I cant comment on S.T.G nor BATTLECAT, although a few minutes of convo was shared about how great each were... That should be noted, and it is. As for SLUG SALT, I had only heard a bits-worth of their music online and found out this pool-show was their first outing. The songs you get online are demos, of which I have previewed pre-show. They reminded me of a mix between D.I.R.T. and Necros.

The sun was almost completely down before EVERYDAY OBJECTS began. The natural slope of the yard created a natural amphitheater. Not a bad view in the place. I had never seen Everyday Objects in a live setting before... But upon their first note they ripped a chasm right down the middle of any definitions of safety that may have ever existed in this part of Northern Kentuckee, since before the Indian Wars... Sonically, they were as if an amalgamation of a synth-less LE SHOK, URINALS, CRUCIFUCKS and more recently LE FACE (no relation to Le Shok). From one song to the next, a feeling of nervous uncertainty was hanging in the moist air. When a light shown-up in the next door lot onto the band, I suspected video historian, George F. was repositioning himself for a new perspective. This turned out to not be the case. It was a 'white cop'. No, not the band White Cop on the flyer, but the OTHER white Cop...

Essentially, the show was over. The police officer wasn't mean nor had a chip in on his shoulder. He was out numbered at least 60-1 but suggested turning the show into a different kind of show without amplification. Laughs... Smiles lit by the only lamp working near the band area or from George's video camera. "Who is the responsible adult here?" No answers. Beautiful silence. Beautiful, humorous silence. Respectable silence. Defiant silence.

The  damage was done. Everyday Objects did one more song that really struck with pure sonic-rage... White Cop decided to not play. I shared a few farewells and even though I usually make it a point to tell a band they were great, as with Everyday Objects and their set, I decided to write this instead.

In conclusion, The hills are alive with the sound of hardcore.

As promised, here is a master-list of the bands! Check them out.

Tuesday, June 2, 2015

BPA Pix by B. Wol

The following photos feature legendary Cincinnati band BY-PRODUCTS OF AMERICA (BPA). 

They were taken by B. Wol (Thanks for sharing!)

The pictures were taken at The Southgate House Revival. BPA were performing at the recent installment of the JOCKEY CLUB REUNION show. 

This reunion champions an instrumental northern Kentucky venue for its help in developing the Cincinnati area underground punk, hardcore and alternative music scene.

BPA retrospective CD Maybe Use My Knife is available from Shake It Records.