Montana means bison.

Not literally. Literally, “Montana” probably means something like “big-nosed gaijin wanted name for state with lots of mountains.” But in a culinary sense, Montana means bison.

I’ll confess up front that ground bison makes the best burger I’ve ever accomplished in my home kitchen, with the least effort. At $9.99/lb, it had better.

Paying fair price for an album from Trego, Montana’s Pterodactyl Plains (Bandcamp, official site) seems downright cheap, in comparison. Pterodactyl Plains is a Boston Phoenix best-of-state pick; it identifies the band’s style as “electroacoustic,” which apparently means acoustic piano with brooding bass and drum, distortion effects, fugue-like vocals… it’s beautiful and menacing. I have no idea what “In the Air” is about, but the way the vocals interweave with each other and the piano is drop-dead gorgeous. Read the rest of this entry »

My earlier love affair with wheat bread (recounted romantically here) left me at a loss for Kansas, where the most important crop is… wheat.

Frantic Googling yielded the news that Liberal, Kansas, is best known for its Shrove Tuesday pancake race (yes, really). The answer became obvious: Kansas calls for whole-wheat pancakes (recipe from Make Healthy Meals). Strawberries and cows are also key Kansas crops, thus the choice of topping and protein.

My other discovery was that Reverbnation can be finagled into giving local by-genre “charts” for any city one likes, making it much easier to find a band for Kansas. I chose Wichita as my city and ended up with two Southern Rock bands — Barrelbright (here) and Street Survivor (here) — that give contrasting interpretations of the genre. Read the rest of this entry »

A sudden urge to make tamale pie is not a source of pride. Tamale pie is among the most Americanized of pseudo-Mexican foods, with the bonus onus of lacking the hipster cred that’s been accrued by giant corporate burritos.

Your mom probably made tamale pie. Mine didn’t. Mine made the similar recipe that involved Fritos.

However, tamale pie links two ideas that had been on my plate. One is the monthly Top 10 Workout Songs from Run Hundred (site so you can vote!), which reliably includes something musically provocative. This month, the ear-catcher was a punk remix of Nicki Minaj’s mega-hit “Super Bass.” Meanwhile, Maura Johnston’s 11 Most Infuriating Trends of 2011 had called out white people revamping urban radio hits. In general, I value trend-watchers’ insights because my bent is for short, intense projects, not for longer-term absorption of the zeitgeist. This one, though… we gotta talk. Let’s start with the Nicki Minaj original. Read the rest of this entry »

This is a hunk of raw beef. That it’s on my kitchen counter proves I know where the beef is.

First among my New Year’s resolutions was to tackle Large Hunks of Meat in the responsible domestic manner decreed by women’s magazines of the 1970s, notably that one cooks the Large Hunk of Meat and then deploys it in leftovers in a creative yet virtuously thrifty way.

An enthusiastic return to some of the more appealing qualities of the 1970s — so, cheap beef but not, say, avocado green appliances or dismissing capable females as “women’s libbers”– calls for Florida indie rock band WD-HAN (listen). Read the rest of this entry »

Note how this burger seems to straddle continents. It is a burger of world domination.

I’d been to Bookmans to buy tickets for Ryan Star’s rescheduled September 22 show at Martini Ranch. I left with a vintage MAD magazine, a vintage Cajun cookbook, a gray-haired action figure, and a weird compilation CD. I did not leave with Ryan Star tickets, as the store hadn’t received any. “Star-crossed” is starting to describe my experiences.

On the way down 19th Avenue in search of I-10, I passed The Original Wineburger, which purports to offer one of the great cheeseburgers of Phoenix. I cannot deny the claims of science.

While telling about it, I’m going to listen to a compilation of Smiths’ covers called How Soon Is Now. Read the rest of this entry »

Desperately needed inspiration comes from the oddest places. Dinner this week had included one salmon filet that must have been destined for sainthood, as it was raw after 20 minutes in boiling liquid, and three undistinguished chicken dishes, plus 28 indie bands with the same opening riff. Then @YoSwanny proposed #foodthursday in response to this series of tweets and the accompanying widespread revelation that many people had felt my same urge to tumble off the healthful eating bandwagon.

The only possible inauguration for #foodthursday is therefore a cheeseburger, accompanied by songs about cheeseburgers. Read the rest of this entry »

Having finished the package of chicken breast strips, I am now on to steak in my quest for high-protein, low-carb bliss. Note the presence of lettuce. This is not a garnish. I intend to consume it without undue bitching, whining, and moaning.

Since I’d been discussing Thinking vs. Feeling types elsewhere, the obvious band to accompany this endeavor is Love and Logic (listen — or don’t, as I’m about to do vids). Read the rest of this entry »

Day 1 of a week of Normal American Cooking starts with meatloaf, suggested by kccadtr and gatr_girl. I have made meatloaf before, but always by the “what have we in the fridge?” method. Tonight, I’m going to follow a recipe for meatloaf muffins, which allow a live-alone gal to freeze the overflow.

The only possible accompaniment to meatloaf is Meat Loaf, and thanks to The Covers Project, I’m going with Meat Loaf covers. Read the rest of this entry »

After my adventures in the World Cup Food Challenge, it was impossible not to get a speculative gleam in my eye when The Kitchn declared July to be devoted to “escapes” to foreign cuisines. And the project started with Italy, which means pasta, which is one of the Perfect Foods when cooking for one.

How spaghetti with mascarpone, Meyer lemon, spinach, and hazelnuts turned into soba noodles with beef, nectarines, feta, and pistachios is… a mystery I will disclose after the jump. But first, we need music to soothe the savage fry pan. After 30 minutes of delving into the weird wonders of Italian indie goth rock, I developed a bad case of punning ethnocentrism (distinguishable by its characteristic rash, in the sense of “rash cooking decisions”) and settled on When in Rome (listen), a revival of the 1980s one-and-a-half-hit wonder electronica group. Read the rest of this entry »

Yesterday’s World Cup Food Challenge plans ran aground on a 99-cent taco special at a restaurant between the Phoenix Public Library and the freeway. I blame the combined presence of Chile, Honduras, and Uruguay.

Today’s menu is beef with pea pods (Argentina-Nigeria), yam fries with feta (Greece-Nigeria), and onion flan (France-Mexico).

And I have a shameful confession to make. While I do my utmost to be open-minded about music and try new things… I cannot get into Argentine rock. I’m on my fourth band tonight, and it’s not happening. We’re going to listen to Dalmanerea (listen) as the most interesting pick, and afficionados of the Argentine indie scene can leave irate comments to tell me why I’m a philistine. Please leave them in English so I can appreciate the vituperation. Read the rest of this entry »