From our pal Craig Robinson, check this out:

Via Kottke–man, life is just better because of Kottke, ain’t it?–let’s revisit Fargo, shall we?

Here’s John Schulian, writing about Jim Murray in the Wall Street Journal.

Jim Murray made the sports page seem as if it should have a $10 cover and a two-drink minimum. In the last four decades of the 20th century, he wrote four, five, even six columns a week, delivering one-liners faster than a stand-up comic with his pants on fire. Casey Stengel’s rambling oratory reminded him of “the sound a porpoise makes underwater and an Abyssinian rug merchant.” Louisville, he wrote, smelled like “a wet bar rag.” One look at boxing’s baleful Sonny Liston and Murray told readers, “you only hope it doesn’t bite.” Even when he railed against the carnage at the Indianapolis 500, there was a laugh, however dark, in his outrage: “Gentlemen, start your coffins.”

He’d throw a change-up once in a while, something serious about racism or violence, and it was when deep pain entered his personal life that he wrote perhaps his best columns. Still, the Jim Murray I most loved to read was the one who wisecracked his way onto a stage made of newsprint. Sportswriters before him had dealt in humor—Damon Runyon, Red Smith, Ring Lardner and Ring’s boy John—but Murray played a different game entirely: Even when a joke tanked, you had to stick around because his next one would slay you.

You can order Ted Geltner’s new Murray biography, The Last King of the Sports Page, here. And if you’ve never read Rick Reilly’s 1986 bonus piece on Murray, check it out. 

My cousin makes a wonderful corn soup. I tried it for the first time over the weekend and it was a smash hit. So here’s a recipe that is a sure shot. It’s rich and silky without having cream or anything fattening. Plus, it’s not difficult to make. Alls it takes is a little patience to strain the soup at the end.

What’s in it:

8 ears of corn

1 yellow onion

3 stalks of celery

1 large carrot

Red Chili Flakes (optional)

Salt/Pepper

Star Anise

Cinnamon Stick

First:  Make a corn stock out of the corn cobs (slice off the kernels off 8 corn cobs first and reserve them). Cover corn cobs in water by 2-3 inches. Add salt and pepper, a sachet with 2p star anise, peppercorns, cinnamon stick, bring to boil and then reduce to simmer and cook (at a simmer) for 2 hours. Cook uncovered. When you are finished, remove cobs and discard the sachet.

Second:  In a separate pot, on medium to high heat, saute the onion, carrot and celery in a small amount of butter (1-2 tablespoons) or oil (also 1-2 table spoons…Olive oil is fine though you could use a neutral oil as well). Add some red chili flakes if you’d like but I’d be careful not to add too much. (If you like it spicy add more to your bowl when serving.) When the vegetables are semi-soft (maybe 5-8 minutes), add the kernels. Cook together until soft. I’d say about another 15 minutes, medium heat. You can add a little of the stock, 1/4 cup at a time, and cover the vegetables to speed up the cooking time.

Third:  Set the vegetables aside. When they stock is ready, combine the vegetables with the stock in a blender. You may want to wait until both cool down so you don’t burn yourself but that’s not necessary. Blend the vegetables and stock in batches until smooth, adding more stock if it is too thick.

Fourth:  When you have finished this step, strain the soup through a sieve or a mesh strainer. This will ensure the corn kernel husks aren’t in the final product. You don’t have to do this step, and it’s a pain in the ass, but I think it’s worth the effort. Makes a difference for sure.

Finally:  You may reheat the soup, serve it room temperature, or even cold. Add a pinch of finishing salt–preferably Maldon–and a drizzle of olive oil to each bowl once you’ve plated the soup. You can also add some torn basil leaves. Cilantro would work just fine, too.

The key to this soup is using fresh corn–pick it and make the soup the same day if you can–and straining the vegetables at the end.

You’ll knock ’em dead, Sweetie. Count on it.

[Photo Via Seasoned Fork]

Dumb fun from the Eighties. Movie is a quote-factory for nerds of a certain age (guilty).

Also loved the books when I was growing up.

Might be Chase’s best movie.

[Picture by Alex Kittle]

Picture by Adrian Tomine via This Isn’t Happiness.

Monday Morning Soul. One time fuh yuh mindski.

[Collage by Javier Pinon over at Faith is Torment]

Nice piece over at Spin celebrating the 20th anniversary of “Passin’ Me By” by the Pharcyde.

And the classic remix:

[Featured Image: Lorenzo Porras]

Sometime in the late 1990s I read up on Jazz music. I went through a pile of books and my favorite overview came from Ted Gioia in his book The History of Jazz.

I thought about Gioia today when I read this review of his new book, The Jazz Standards, in The Los Angeles Times:

“The Jazz Standards” is an attempt to offer a kind of one-stop shop overview of the genre, looking not so much at the musicians as at the songs. An alphabetical survey of 252 classic pieces, it is to some extent an extrapolation of “The Real Book” — “the underground collection of jazz lead sheets that began circulating in the 1970s” that itself grew out of a series of “fake books,” bootleg compilations used by jazz players to work their way through the entire tradition. This history is fascinating, a reminder that jazz is at heart a vernacular medium in which the most essential skill for a musician may be the ability to think on his or her feet.

[Photo Credit: William Claxton]

Heirloom tomato and celery salad over at Hungry Ghost. Heck yeah.

“Water of Face” by Daisy

I run up on her. She was about seven feet tall. Built like an Amazon. Had Mens climbing the Walls.

I said ‘Hello, Baby.”

She said, “Hello, little fella.”

I said, “I likes that.”

[Photo Credit: oio]

Mick Jagger is sixty-nine.

Here’s a cool bit from Keif over at Letters of Note (complete with a Goon Show reference in the opening paragraph).

From the wonderful Scouting NY site, here’s Annie Hall (part one).

It lacks a cohesive structure…

Picture by Erwin Blumenfeld, 1943 [Via Hollyhocksandtulips]

Bet I wet cha like hurricanes and typhoons/Got buffoons eatin my pussy while I watch cartoons…

Well, you don’t say? This one’s a head-nodder.

Go to Laughing Squid. Watch video. Drool.

This is nice. Nathan Englander on Nora Ephron:

Nora once had me and my wife over for a birthday dinner where she served an almond cake. The best I’ve ever had. I asked for the recipe (not because I’m much of a baker, but because seeing Nora bake made me think baking was the greatest thing around). The point is, Nora gave me the recipe. And she also gave me some advice. You’ve got to sift the flour. (She’d sift three times.) And if the almond cake sinks in the middle, as it sometimes does (hers hadn’t, but she surely knew that mine would—and it did) she told me to cover it with powdered sugar, and then put some fresh strawberries on top. Then it would be perfect. And that to me is a good way to sum up what being a working artist is all about. It’s about being a person who makes real things in a real world. You set out to do something, and to do it right. And if it doesn’t come out exactly as planned—you don’t just live with it, you find a way to make it even better than it would have been before. And who isn’t going to be happier with a strawberry on her plate?

[Photo Credit: t/here]

David and Isabella

[Via New Yorker 1995]

Serious Eats ‘splains Sun Tea (forget the sun).