LAMB CAKE UPDATE: BEING BAD HAS NEVER TASTED SO GOOD

As K promised earlier (see yesterday's post) it was a mess. A bloody red mess, and wow, it was delicious! The photos below are not for the faint of heart.

Before we get to the gory details, I highly recommend you try this at home. I want an entire flock of lamb cakes next year--I say we line the streets with them. Maybe I'm still high on adrenaline from baking all night and the thrill of the final sacrifice, but if you care to join me, you'll need your own lamb mold. I also love this red velvet cake recipe (and the corresponding frosting recipe), plus it yields enough for a lamb AND approximately 18 cupcakes.

A new Easter tradition has begun in the N household...and now, the afore-mentioned photos of the slaughter. You've been warned.





Nota Bene: No actual lambs were harmed in this process. Cake, however, was devoured by all. And yes, that IS green coconut.

MY 10 THINGS TO LOVE ABOUT LOS ANGELES*

In the holiday spirit, and in the spirit of the year drawing to a close, K suggested I write a list of 10 Things I Love About Living in This Town. Surprisingly, or not so surprisingly, I had trouble keeping the list to just 10 things (apologies to fellow contributors/comment-makers Dahoud and Mr. N, both of whom are probably having a fit right now that anyone could find 10 things to love anywhere). It's late and I've been nipping at the old nog a bit, so I might delve a bit deeper than our loyal readers are used to going, but bearing with me holds its own rewards:

1) The Light. Much has been said of our sunsets, but to me, the light in LA is wondrous all the day long. We all need a good healthy dose of Vitamin D every once in a while. But in LA, the daily UVA is delivered in such gorgeous golden tones as to inspire an entire industry (see: film), multiple essays, theories and odes to it. It's incredible. Anyway, 2008 marks five years of my repatriation as an Angeleno. I've learned that the light here has ruined my ability to live anywhere else for any extended period of time. See: S.A.D. Chalk it up to latitude, the special refractory bowl that is the LA Basin and the curve of the coast, or just magic, but I can't live without it.

2) The Landscape. The following anecdote is also closely related to my above reason for loving LA, and it wouldn't be possible were it not for our unique geography. I was heading east on the 210 freeway a few days ago to visit the extended N clan just before dusk. Somewhere around Monrovia, I noticed the gorgeous glowing oranges of sunset in my rearview mirror. And to my right, the fantastic salmon tones of the mountains, reaching clear across the horizon, so sharp and so close. I could even see snow bouncing the last rays of the day from the slopes of Mt. Baldy. I looked back in the rearview mirror to see palm trees outlined in orange. I looked forward to the open highway heading east, and the now purple mountains. I looked back to the palm trees. I looked forward to the mountains. I looked back. I looked forward. I almost slammed into the car in front of me. That's how stunned am I sometimes by the sheer beauty of where we live. We got the city, we got the beach, we got the mountains. It's pretty awesome. Granted, we got the valley and the traffic and the smog, too, but on a clear winter day, there's not much that can get me down.

3) The Food. Forget the frozen yogurt wars (the cognoscenti all know that regardless of whether your berry is pink or your cupcake is sprinkled, Scoops has the dessert market cornered in this town), I'm talking about street food: the grandmothers selling tamales from shopping carts in West LA, hot dogs wrapped in bacon on top of trashcans in Hollywood, and chili-pepper corn in East LA. Also, the sheer variety of places to eat, regardless of your budget, and the hard-working families who make those places so special. You know my love for Bombay Grill, but I also love that ethnic food isn't ethno-centric in LA. Where else can you find restaurants with Mexicans serving Indian food, Koreans serving Mexican food, and Guatamalans running the floor at a Jewish deli? Diversity isn't just for your stock portfolio, people--it tastes damn good, too.

4) The people who sit in coffee shops all day on their laptops. We all know they're just checking email and updating their Facebook pages while appearing to write the next big screenplay, but I love them. And I love that a stellar screenplay, novel or blog post probably does live in their hearts. This is the land of dreams, and it takes a lot of creative people wishing, wanting, and doing to attract the muses. Bring it on, I say. No one in LA is just a waitress, or a bookkeeper, or a Pilates instructor. Plenty of cynics will rehash how cliche and annoying the cafe layabouts are, but I find them refreshing and inspiring. And we're not all actors, BTW. Some of us are aspiring commercial airline pilots and ninjas in training, so there.

5) People who actually watch movies without talking, using laser pointers, answering their cell phones, standing up to stretch, throwing things, or generally stinking up the place. I've been subject to all of the above disrupting my favorite two hours of the week, but never in Los Angeles. Maybe it's cuz I'm a snob and stick to places like the Arclight where the above behavior is not tolerated, but I also like to think it's because so many of us here, working in the 'biz or not, simply respect the medium and all the work that went into it (see #4). Then again, now that tickets cost $14, you gotta respect something.

6) Canyon shortcuts. Traffic sucks, especially trying to get anywhere on the other side of the hill. But I never tire of driving over the canyons. I love these little enclaves of precipitously perched homes, scenic vistas, and clutch-burning climbs. Whether swinging around blind curves on Beachwood Canyon only to meet the Hollywood sign face to face, gunning through rock n'roll history on Laurel Canyon or avoiding the madness of the central Hollywood fun-zone on Outpost (shhh-don't tell) to Mulholland, I never tire of the thrill found in escaping up and over. It even helps soften the blow of landing in the Valley, because at least I know I can always go back the way I came. The 101, or the 405, however, is not as certain, but that leads me to my next favorite thing about living in Los Angeles:

7) Freeways. Yep, I said it. I was born to drive, and am probably better suited to the Autobahn than LA's freeways, but apparently the Germans have adopted speed limits and it's just not the same. For those of you who know me, and know my love of public transporation and deep-seated shame at not having a better option for my morning commute than spending an hour to go 10 miles in my car, this may seem a rather strange favorite thing--AND YET. I drive surface streets at rush hour, but given the alternative, I always choose the freeway. It's sick and strange, I know, but freeways make me feel secure. Whenever I'm lost, if I can find a freeway onramp, any onramp, as soon as I climb onboard the concrete trail, I know exactly where I am and where I'm going. There's nothing like the endless stretch of asphalt into the palm-laden horizon to get my juices going. We'd be better off without them, I know, but sometimes you've gotta love the one you're with. I just wish there were more murals along the way. Like the Olympic-era murals on the 10/5/101 interchange downtown. Can we revive those?

8) My friends. Anyone who says LA people are stupid and (we hear it lots) fake are ignorant fools. Some of the finest folk in the world live here. Get out there and meet them.

9) The music. As diverse as the food, any night of the week. For more details, check out LosAnjealous.com . I think those folks go to a show every night and they're always in the front row (just look at the pics). Seriously, so many venues, so many artists and occasional rock stars to choose from, and so little, little time.

10) Pico Boulevard, duh.

*Special thanks to photog Lloyd Prudhomme for letting us use his gorgeous pic of the LA skyline above. Check out more of his work here.

Happy New Year, People.

PICO'S YEAR END GIVING GUIDE

If you find yourself with extra money this year and feel like being charitable, or perhaps you're an a**hole and you just need the tax write off consider these:

-Childrens Hospital Los Angeles - Any donation helps (seriously, I don't think they are just saying that), and if you don't have money I know you have some blood you can donate. Buck up.

-Hollywood PALs

-Geffen Playhouse - On January 11th they are doing a Q&A with playwrights, plus Geffen Playhouse Applause Members get 20% off . . . . .

-LACMA memberships

and last but certainly not least . . . .

-The Bill Foundation - they rescue street dogs and find them homes
-The Pawd Squad - they do the same thing

I HEART TARGET

At 2:00pm yesterday I entered the parking garage of the Target on the corner of La Brea and Santa Monica. At 2:36pm I exited said parking garage, having never left my car. The line for the parking validation machine was 20 people deep. I don't do well with crowds, and Christmas crowds are a little glimpse of Hell.

I ditched the shopping idea and hit up Pinkberry. However, I did return to Target at 10:30pm and exited said Target at 10:51pm, but this time with exactly what I needed. Twenty one minutes of pure shopping pleasure. I picked up the following items for my little nephews:

-Super Mario 8 for Wii (I'd like to add that my brother stood in line from 3am - 8am in the freezing cold Pittsburgh weather to purchase the Wii, he's in the running for Dad of the Year)

-Moonsand!!!!! Apparently this stuff is like play dough but better. It's a weird sand substance that never dries out and can be molded and whatnot. I had to stuff the Moon Sand Adventure Island in the back of my closet so as not to be overcome by my desire to open it up and make little monkeys for hours on end. I've already created a Monkey Island in my head. I'm going to make purple ones, blue ones, and yellow ones . . . . then I can make crazy mixed color ones that will be the Master Monkeys (they will have helmets and wear dusters). The Master Monkeys will be able to kick the subordinate monkeys off the island. I might even work in some kind of lesson on communism for my 3 year old nephew. This might be the best Christmas ever.

DON'T THEY KNOW IT'S CHRISTMAS TIME AT ALL?

As Bing Crosby once said, “it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,” which is why we here at Pico have decided to review the musical miscarriage that was Band Aid. In 1984 the “supergroup” Band Aid was formed in an effort to alleviate hunger in Africa by pinching a lyrical loaf into the willing ears of college students the world over. The band, comprised of Paul McCartney, David Bowie, Sting, Bono, Phil Collins, George Michael, Boy George, Duran Duran, Paul Weller, Bananarama, Big Country and other clueless musicians, produced a little ditty known as “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” According to the map below, I submit that the answer to their question is “no;” they don’t know it’s Christmas time...at all.

Aside from largely being a Muslim and Tribal continent, I imagine that the reason they (the Africans) don’t know it’s Christmas time at all is because they don’t have irrigation sufficient to sustain the growth of crops that feed the people who create the businesses which spur the economy that allows the citizens to have enough expendable cash to purchase overproduced British records about Africans not knowing its Christmas time at all. Maybe if they had running water, governments that lasted longer than Hollywood pilots, no war lords, genocide, De Beers, AIDS or Ebola, then they could focus their efforts on roasting chestnuts on the open fire, decking the halls, and throwing back a few eggnog lattés at the company Christmas party. At the very least, the lyrics to this song prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Bono has always been a no talent ass-clown, and that Paul McCartney should have lived at the Dakota instead of John Lennon. Case in point (with commentary):

It's Christmas time
There's no need to be afraid
(Why one would be afraid of Christmas, I don’t know)
At Christmas time
We let in light and we banish shade
(“Light good and shade bad” says the pasty Englishman to the African)
And in our world of plenty
(Just to clarify, “our world” means “not Africa”)

We can spread a smile of joy
Throw your arms around the world
At Christmas time
But say a prayer
Pray for the other ones

At Christmas time it's hard
(I pulled a hammy carrying a load of presents to my car during my paid vacation.)
But when you're having fun
There's a world outside your window
(The window attached to your 10,000 square foot London flat.)
And it's a world of dread and fear
(Oooh, dread and fear; sounds ominous and trite.)

Where the only water flowing
Is the bitter sting of tears
(Get it? They don’t have flowing water, but their tears from crying about not having flowing water is ironically their only source of flowing water. In the actual song Sting sings this lyric. Notice how he worked the word “sting” into that lyric? Sting: eradicating hunger one cross-promotion at a time.)

And the Christmas bells that ring
There are the clanging chimes of doom
(See how they did that? Christmas bells are like clanging chimes of doom to Africans.)
Well tonight thank God it's them instead of you
(You can say that again Bono. This marks the only time Bono and I have agreed on something.)

Feed the world
Let them know it's Christmas time
(Want some fruit cake? I got plenty. No really, its no bother. My aunt made an extra couple loaves with nuts and I'm allergic. What? You don't like fruit cake? I thought you were starving. You're starving, not desperate? Forget it, I hope Santa shits in your stocking this year!)
Feed the world
Do they know it's Christmas time at all?
(Probably not.)

And there won't be snow in Africa
This Christmas time
(There is no snow in Africa during Christmas? How are they supposed to know when it’s Christmas time?)
The greatest gift they'll get this year is life
(That’s Bono again reminding you that life is a gift, much like an iPod shuffle.)
Where nothing ever grows
No rain nor rivers flow
(Have you tried irrigation?)
Do they know it's Christmas time at all?
(Nope.)

Feed the world
Let them know it's Christmas time
Feed the world
Let them know it's Christmas time again

(Here's to you) raise a glass for everyone
(Ahhh, fresh clean water in my glass)
(Here's to them) underneath that burning sun
(It’s hot in Africa, especially without cold, clean water…cold, clean water like the water in Sting’s glass that he’s raising to the thirsty Africans.)
Do they know it's Christmas time at all?
(Not a clue.)

Still don’t believe me that Band Aid was craptastic? Ask Morrissey.

“I'm not afraid to say that I think Band Aid was diabolical. Or to say that I think Bob Geldof is a nauseating character. Many people find that very unsettling, but I'll say it as loud as anyone wants me to. In the first instance the record itself was absolutely tuneless. One can have great concern for the people of Ethiopia, but it's another thing to inflict daily torture on the people of England. It was an awful record considering the mass of talent involved. And it wasn't done shyly it was the most self-righteous platform ever in the history of popular music.”