Rula of the Week

"You sonofabitch. Do you know who I am? I'm Moe Green! I made my bones when you were going out with cheerleaders." While many would say that this powerful assertion from The Godfather is the most memorable sound-bite from the repetoire of Alex Rocco, we would be hard-pressed to verify it; Rocco has a film and TV career that spans nearly 40 years. His debut came as a "thug" that gets "whapped" during the opening sequence of the Batman series, a time during which he worked as a bartender to supplement his income. We at counterpoise tend to be shamefully ingorant of late 60's and 70's television and b-grade crime cinema so we had no idea that Rocco had, according to a central source, a "comfortable niche playing various swarthy-looking cronies, hoods and cops", fulfilling such roles as "Legs Diamond" in The St. Valentine's Day Massacre (1967), "Man with Ice Cream" in Slither (1972), and "Lt. Di Nisco" in Three the Hard Way (1974)(the premise of which, we are told, is a white supremist plot to taint the United States water supply with a toxin that is harmless to whites but lethal to blacks). I hope to watch these immediately. He also appeared in well-loved, syndicated, and ultimately re-created dramas Mission Impossible and Starsky and Hutch.
This contributor had seen more of Rocco's 1980's films, including Herbie goes Bananas (he plays "Quinn"), and Cannonball Run II ("Tony"). It was also during this decade that he made a transition to comedy, and won an Emmy as "Al Floss" during the 1988-89 season of The Famous Teddy Z, which concerns a young baker's reluctance to assume the responsibilities of the family business.
Some may recall that Rocco adeptly played another "Al": the father of Anthony Michael Hall's lead character in Gotcha! (1985), a story about a college kid who travels to East Germany, has an affair with the seductive Linda Fiorentino, and uses his paintball skills to thwart the KGB. Rocco delivered another snappy, perhaps commercially-contrived gem: "it's not a camera, it's a Nikon".
Counterpoise was prepared to nominate Rocco solely on the basis of Moe Green's toothy verbal delivery and streetwise Italianate accent, as well as his commanding, lanky presence. Ironically, early in his career, Rocco, who hails from Boston, had to work diligently to suppress his native New England brogue.
More recently, he had recurring roles in The Facts of Life, and The Simpsons, where he provided the voice for the amoral industrialist Roger Myers, Jr., purveyor of the Itchy and Scratchy cartoons.

Counterpoise Query: Kebab-Curious

Kebab. Shawarma. Gyro. Doner. Understanding the cultural and geographic points of departure and distinction amongst the myriad names and phenotypes of the many tasty snacks of broadly Mediterranean extraction, consisting of meat wrapped inside flattened bread, would take possibly years of work to accomplish without oversight. Initial research on this topic did reveal some commendable efforts, such as this obsessive discourse, which delineates some seven different types of wrapped proteins, divided into two chief categories: on-the-spit, and on-the-grill.
Perhaps the task of creating a governing taxonomy that could capture the multitude of regional idiosyncrasies occurring within the broad range of the gyro-kebab-shish zone of origins that extends from northern Greece to the tip of the Arabian peninsula is a hopeless one, as if an immortal biologist were attempting to classify distinct animal species when viewing Darwinian evolution in geologic time. Indeed, the kebab at least has been described as one of the region's most ancient dishes.

The significance of the treat known generally as "kebab" in modern times is great, and nowhere is it greater than in urban areas of the former British Empire, where it has become perhaps the favorite late-night craving, in a multitude of forms as discussed on the website above, of the young drinking classes of these cities.
This leads us finally to our query: Can anyone explain how it is that some kebab shops, especially in Australia, have come to grilling already stuffed, folded kebabs? One of our contributors was smitten with this particular embellishment to her kebabs when she was down under (pronounced colloquially "ke-baabs", in an annoying, if not morbid, approximation of a lamb's vocalization) . Since then, she has been unsuccessful in locating a place stateside that does the griddle finishing move. Is this a technique as ancient as the kebab itself, or an ingenious recent innovation of the mostly Turkish immigrants who serve the stuff in Aussieland? Counterpoise wants the 411.

Nick Carraway Has Joined the Staff

Let me begin by expressing my most unfeigned gratitude to the Editor for the invitation to join the staff here at Counterpoise. Leaving my postings as publisher of The New Paradigm and manager of the Winchmore Hill Cricket Club was made easier knowing that I would be on the cutting edge of American comment.

Readers can expect my conjecture to be motley topics explored in rigid style. I aim to examine some uncharted realms of New York life, film, television, sport, and occasionally haute cuisine and fashion. For now, I plan to avoid politics.

Rula of the Week

Two members of our editorial staff were waiting to claim take-out from a local Kashmiri halal meat shop/kebab joint, famished by tireless devotion to this blog, when they met an anonymous good Samaritan, kebab roll fan, and martial arts devotee. This dude, along with the bloggers and a fourth patron, were watching an Indian soap opera via satellite on a incongruously large wood-paneled TV set, when he introduced himself to our staff as a lover of martial arts entertainment, who was curious if Indian kung fu flicks were available for rental or purchase. He explained that he had bought many movies for about $7 each at a nearby South Asian video emporium, but had never found any specifically Indian products. The bloggers had to respond that they couldn't help him. As the aggressively emotional story unfolded on the TV screen, and smoke from the tandoor oven lingered in the room, the dude showed a brilliant streak of prescient celluloid knowledge, paranormal ability, or both, when he miraculously predicted, within seconds of occurrence, that the male lead would pull out a jack-knife and attempt to stab his beloved. The counterpoisers showed true amazement at this preternatural feat, when the fourth kebab seeker, and the only one who actually spoke the language, interjected to point out that the distressed young man on screen was actually intending to commit sepuku using the blade, because, as the patron translated, the suitor was experiencing rejection from his girl's parents. The Rula immediately identified, relating to us that he had once "had an Indian girlfriend from Bangladesh who tried to pull that shit". Our South Asian friend, having already established his authority amongst the group, began to explain to the dude that Bangladesh was a separate country from India, beginning his history lesson "In 1947..." When the staffers' kebab and boti rolls finally came up, the Kashmiri cashier said that she had no change at all. Since our staff receives very generous food stipends in large bills, they were only able to come up with $7 in ones, a buck short of the tab. The Rula stepped right up and threw down the eighth dollar, no questions asked. What a guy.
P.S. Later research revealed that kung fu did have roots in India; see this article from kungfucinema.com. In addition, the 2001 Hindi language film Asoka (picture above), depicts the art of Kalarippayat, apparently one of the world's oldest martial disciplines. May our kebab shop savior locate it before too long.

La Targa Florio: Serious Business

First-time visitors to La Targa Florio, especially those hailing from so-called "blue states", may be alarmed upon arrival: the restuarant's walls display full-size panels from actual NASCAR vehicles, still decorated with both the scrapes and the multitude of corporate logos that show that these racers actually made it to the track on some weekend in the past. Yes, La Targa, recently opened and named for a famous Sicilian race-course, has adopted a car-racing theme full-throttle. While I have seen the racing theme applied to the interior of an Italian bistro previously, the decor in that joint was more of the retro, purely Italian variety, romanticized and removed in time and place from the cultural context of the restaurant. That ensured that diners could avoid the apprehension that some might feel about real-live, modern, car-racing.
Not so with La Targa. Someone there really loves NASCAR and was able to realize a dream, I think; racing is shown on the television screens inside the place.
Forget about all of that. The pizza is tremendous. I have had many varieties, and they have all been delicious. The crust is tossed impossibly thin, and baked in wood-fired brick to produce slight blackening and glorious crispness on the outside, and moist goodness within. They proudly use only Italian San Marzano tomatoes. On a recent visit, the chef overheard me proselytizing the glory of the place (I had already been won over), explaining that La Targa could stand proudly against Lombardi's and other storied NYC institutions. He said that he had grown up on Lombardi's, and also Totonno's of Coney Island; in making pizzas today he clearly aims to meet and even surpass their standards. He said at La Targa they make their own fresh mozzarella each day, and I buy it. I have also tried John's on Bleeker St. in Manhattan, and La Targa is right in there as well. La Targa's offerings exceed the pies I have eaten in Rome, Campania, and other regions of Italy. I must admit I've never been to Napoli, the motherland itself, but that does not cause me to hesitate to recommend La Targa as world class. 92-94 Church St., New Brunswick, NJ 08901; (732) 249-3888.

Recent Screens: Kill Bill Part Deux

I saw Kill Bill Vol. 2 about one week ago, and I have yet to resolve the question: was there enough action for this movie to be understood as a kung fu flick? The concept of genre is divisive and fallible of course, but it is somewhat curious that one who enjoys the mechanisms of unabashed genre films as much Quentin Tarantino, making frequent use of them through reference and otherwise, didn't make another one. Oh yeah-the first Kill Bill was pretty much a kung fu movie, for those that haven't seen it. It's sequel seemed more a blended derivative of Westerns, film noir, and reportedly, "revenge movies", a genre I am probably too inexperienced to perceive. Before I become distracted with peripheral issues, I'll say that I was entertained by the hallmarks of Tarantino: dialogue rich with sub-reference, wit, and improbable attitude; creatively sequenced story; excellent music. Unfortunately, these elements weren't sufficiently captivating to compensate for the film's neglect for the central tenet of kung fu cinema: frequent, intense action scenes. Vol. 2 has been out for some time now, so I think it's fair to relate that both installments' respective "showdowns" are anti-climatic. However, in the case of Vol. 1, there was the famous orgy of violence before the seductively built but truncated "boss stage" with Lucy Liu's O-Ren Ishii, (to borrow from yet another genre: video game movies; I'll say no more on that), arguably the best character of the series. Much has been said about David Carradine as the ultimate nemesis, Bill, so I won't go there, but I consider the bait-and-switch finale of Vol. 2 the film's greatest flaw, and its clearest deviation from the standard Hong Kong plotline. Maybe they used up all the blood in round one. 3 stars, of a possible 5.

Kaffir Lime Leaf

While coconut milk, curry paste and fish sauce are readily available at a wide variety of grocery stores and food emporiums, even those of the non-asian variety, other ingredients essential to preparing authentic Thai dishes prove much more elusive. Since migrating to the Eastern seaboard, I have faced particular difficulty in tracking down the wonderfully pungent kaffir lime leaf. It provides critical aromatics for such Thai classics as tom kha gai, a coconut milk soup also flavored with lemon grass and galangal, which seem to be more readily available.

Citrus hystrix, or Bai-ma gkood, as it is sometimes known, is a citrus tree commonly found in the homes of tropical Thailand. Those who want to go deeper into the realm of kaffir may want to check out a book by Kasma Loha-unchit, It Rains Fishes: Legends, Traditions and the Joys of Thai Cooking, published in 1995 and excerpted on this web site.
All too often I have found myself frantically searching through pandamus, jute, and other less descript foliage in the frozen Philippine section of asian grocers, my hopes inspired by the opaque mystery of frosted doors, only to be foiled yet again. Some retailers have reported a plausible explanation for this paucity: a recent outbreak of citrus canker in Thailand precipitated a ban on importing the leaves. Apparently, kaffir limes are grown also in California but not yet to the extent to make them abundant, and some have resorted to making friendly with restauranteurs for a break-off from their stashes. Dry leaves are pitiful substitutes.
Fortunately, the magic of the Internet Machine has made the leaf available, in fresh form, at a reasonable price. Import Food.com will send you a serious kaffir package for 13 bucks, including expedited shipping. You can freeze them also.

#2

Counterpoise Query: A Special Eye for Derek?

Counterpoise would like to know: Do otherwise heterosexual NY Yankee fans of the macho persuasion make an exception for "The Captain"? Is it fair to say that there is a subtle sexual component that accounts for the undying devotion of straight Bronx faithful to their hero? Counterpoise is struck by how often tough-guy Yankee lovers and other men express their impressions of rumors of Jeter's supposed sexual conquests, as opposed to his baseball exploits. Just a little vicarious enjoyment of imagining how lucky #2 gets, or is something more complex afoot, perhaps in the vein of the oft-cited ass-slapping in the locker room? Check out how this men's magazine scores Derek's "magnetism" and "style". Counterpoise invites your comments.

Sucka of the Week

The inaugural Sucka for this week is Paul D. Clement, Acting Solicitor General of the United States, who decided it would be a good idea to make an appeal to the U.S. Supreme Court in the case of Ashcroft v. Raich. For those who don't know, this is the case where some very ill woman in California was legally prescribed weed for her many ailments, and found it worked fairly well when other remedies didn't. In swooped General Ashcroft's crack DEA unit, who, after some sort of jurisdictional "stand-off" with local authorities, (this author envisions various gruff chest-thumpings from the cop film genre), made off with the poor lady's plants. Up went the case, and after the sick burners prevailed in the Court of Appeals, Clement brought the issue before the 9 justices. (Actually, it may be 8; Chief Justice Rehnquist is sick himself, and may or may not be smoking off a stash of the Fed's secret G-2000 blend, the stuff of High Times legend and awesome potency).

The law-trained may derive a crocodile smile from the arguments of Mr. Clement, in which he claimed, essentially, that because Raich smokes strictly high-grade ganj grown entirely within the Cali borders that she recieves as a gratuity, and this "intrastate" dope displaces some portion of the huge amount of weed that is traded in foreign or "interstate" commerce for money, and therefore Congress meant to comprehensively crack down on Raich and others similarly situated. Nevermind that "intrastate" and "interstate" are treated as mutually exclusive propositions for the purposes of Commerce Clause jurisprudence.

Putting that legalese aside, Clement takes this week's Sucka SpaceCake since he has determined that it is important to invest our government's legal resources in preventing sick, miserable people from smoking weed when their doctors and state legislature say it's cool.

reefer madness

Welcome to Our World!

This is our first attempt at reaching the "blogosphere", and we hope our booster rockets will not fail us. The concept of this blog is still in a quite formative stage, but it is anticipated that we will provide an eclectic blend of gastronomy, politics, critique of the many media, pop psych- and soci-ology, and other topics that may occur to our authors during their idle time at work. Special features may include Selective Recollections from the Dreamworld, where we relate some of our nightly visions and consider the possible meanings of these memories (edited to minimize the unnecessary mutual embarassment of authors and audience alike, of course). Also, we plan to highlight Suckas and Rulas of the Week, treating public figures of current interest with the Hip-Hop battle steez that they deserve.

We understand that this is a broad undertaking for blog neophytes, but we are encouraged by the positive feedback we have already received...from ourselves. Enjoy!