It turns out that the Red Savina habenero chile pepper has been surpassed by the Indian Naga Jolokia, which peaks at about 970,000 Scoville units. The Red Savina peaked at about 580,000 Scovilles.

This is really spicy. To give you a sense of scale, the Thai pepper, which is already too spicy for most people, only attains about 100,000 Scovilles. The weak jalapeño pepper only hits 8000 Scovilles.

In honor of this pepper, Grant, the pepper guy, video taped himself taking a healthy bite of this insanely hot pepper. Sheer madness.

Yes, you too can close bags of chips without a clip. Now, I can finally go buy chips again, since I hate closing bags!

Coke is buying Glaceau, the makers of Vitamin Water, for around $4 billion cash. And so Coke ungulfs yet another beverage on the supermarket shelves. Most people are shocked when they learn how many products are actually owned by Coke.

Recently, I’ve been getting into Vitamin Water. It’s marketed as pure water with vitamins. Sounds pretty good for a health conscious urbanite doesn’t it? The problem is that there’s controversy over how healthy it really is, since each 20oz container can contain up to 200 calories and 30g of sugar.

I don’t expect it to get any healthier once Coke is involved.

We fought the traffic up Highway 1 this past Saturday to grill some oysters at the Tomales Bay Oyster Company. Armed with our cooler, breads, cheeses, and various other condiments, we set to work on shucking 50 oysters in the cool breeze. It was my first time shucking, so, after a bit of practice, I got the hang of it.

The Oyster Company was pretty accomadating. They provide a BBQ area and picnic table, oysters at less than $1 per piece, and various condiments for sale. Being that it’s Memorial Day weekend, the place was packed with people. Oysters sandwiches with brie and roasted red peppers are delicious.

Afterwards, it was off to a secluded beach in Tomales bay for a relaxing afternoon of skipping rocks.

Yesterday, Joel and I were out again scavenging for food in the SOMA. As usual, it’s hard to find a restaurants that we’re not tired of yet. And please, don’t even let me go into how often we’ve head to OSHA on 2nd street, desperate for something to eat after a long networking event offering stale-tasting finger foods.

This time, we decided to head up to Union Square. Finally, after some deliberation, we entered a touristy Italian place for a satisfactory meal. I ordered the Sauvignon Blanc, a white wine. Bad idea.

The wine that was served to me was the worst glass of Sauvignon Blanc (or any other wine) that I’ve ever had. Let me talk you through the wonders of how bad this was.

Sauvignon Blanc is supposed to hit you hard. Crisp. Clean. Acidic. These are the words that should pop into your mind as the wine first hits your mouth. When this particular wine hit my mouth, I thought the waiter had mistakenly given me water. Flat. Tasteless. Insipid.

After the SB hits you, there should be a development of floral flavors as the wine develops in your mouth. A nice finish should end the tasting. However, after the tasteless beginning that my wine had yesterday, it began to develop a little and then whimpered and died. It was the most pathetic excuse for a SB, like a sedated rendition of Beethoven’s Fifth. The interpretation of the grape left a sour taste in my mouth.

I’ll never order wine in Union Square again.

Last night I went to A Clean Well-Lighted Place for Books and saw Eric Schlosser, author of Fast Food Nation, speak about Chew on This, his new book aimed at preteens wanting to know about the ins and outs of the fast food industry.

Now, I want to make clear that I thoroughly enjoyed his discourse, and have a great appreciation for his investigative non-fiction. Eric is a great researcher who delves deeply into subjects, revealing an inner core that many people don’t like to think about.

But on this particular night, I got one of those feelings that told me I was a little out of place. I was probably one of the few guys in a room full of mostly concerned, liberal women (who are most likely moms). I’m not saying this was a bad thing, but just that I felt a bit strange.

In any case, he spent the majority of the time talking about his new book. It aims to shed light on food production in the fast food industry to kids. But, after flipping through a few pages worth, I was convinced that no kid would be interested at all in the book. First, the text is written in a tone not far from Fast Food Nation. Don’t get me wrong–I loved Fast Food Nation–but I’m no 11 year old kid. If you would have given me Chew on This when I was young, I would probably read it for 5 minutes, then fall fast asleep. It’s just not as gripping as say Harry Potter, which Eric refered to as the inspiration for his new book. All I can say is good luck to him with that one.

I was also excited to hear about the Fast Food Nation movie, which is definitely not mainstream. It will be debuting in a festival sometime soon, and hopefully will be held up for a wider release after that. Eric said that it would not be a feel good movie. I’ll be looking forward to that one.

Perusing your average Asian mart can be an adventure. Sometimes, however, it can be quite curious. I found these kiwis at a Chinese market on Clement Street in SF. Don’t they look just like testicles? They were right beside the normal kiwis, and, they were also marked at half price! I picked one up and tried it at home. It tasted just no different than ordinary, but, it took more effort to peel.

These have got to be the rejects from Whole Foods and Safeway. But really, should it matter that much? The visual appeal of foods has always been a high priority among foodsellers. But, what about the appeal of those ugly heirloom tomatoes? They used to be a niche produce just like these deformed kiwis. But now, they’ve been elevated to high status (which also involves high markups at Whole Foods). I say we should also grasp these kiwis and rise them to the level of delicacy!

We decided on a roast for the weekend. We gathered about four pounds of roasting pork and decided to braise/roast it in the oven. The steps weren’t too complicated, and the result is succulently tender and flavorful pork.

1. Make the marinade. Use your favorite barbeque sauce, or just mix some soy sauce, vinegar, salt, and sugar together. We added some guava juice for extra sweetness. Make sure to taste the marinade to ensure that it has a good flavor balance. Make enough so that you can fill up to an inch of your roasting vessel.
2. Cut off excess fat from the pork.
3. Brown the pork roast. Rub some oil on the roast and brown it on the pan. Remember, this is not a stir fry, so don’t continually move the pork around. Leave the pork alone for a few minutes on each side to get a nice crust.
4. Put the pork into your roasting vessel and place in a 350 degree oven until done, about two hours. To test for doneness, get your favorite thermometer and make sure the roast is at 170 degrees at the core (not the bone!). Baste the pork every 30 minutes, and flip it over once during cooking. Don’t overcook the pork. If it reaches 170 degrees before two hours, go on to the next step.
5. Turn your oven to broil for about 5 minutes. This makes a nice golden brown crust.

Slice up your pork roast and serve over rice, with potatoes, or even in a sandwich. The juice left over in the roasting pan is great for gravy. Simply simmer down and add flour to desired thickness. Make sure to get all the lumps out and simmer for about 10 minutes to get the floury taste out.

There’s nothing like a big hunk of teriyaki chicken to enliven the mind. And really, there’s nothing difficult in making your own teriyaki. We decided to make a braised version (teriyaki should technically be grilled) with our own sauce. Don’t go out and buy teriyaki sauce, it’s really easy to make at home with a few simple ingredients.

Teriyaki sauces vary, but our version has soy sauce, mirin, fresh ground black pepper, and some sugar. Make sure you taste the sauce before using it. Typically, I use equal parts mirin and soy sauce. It’s really the mirin that adds depth to the teriyaki sauce.

You can use any part of the chicken for this recipe, but preferably the thigh, breast, or drumstick. We used thighs, and they came out great. Since we’re braising our chicken, we first browned it in a pan to seal in the juices and give a nice golden color on the outside. Next, we placed the chicken along with the teriyaki sauce into an oven safe container (like pyrex or a dutch oven, if you have one). We then let this sit for at least 2 hours–the more the better, since we really want the flavors to penetrate the chicken. Let’s face it, chicken by itself doesn’t have a very strong flavor. That’s why chefs love to doctor up their chicken to show off their talents.

After that, we shot the whole thing into the oven for about an hour. Make sure the juices run clear and the flesh isn’t pink before taking it out. The result will be a spectacular lip-smackingly good teriyaki chicken.

We cooked up many more thighs than we can eat in one sitting, so we covered the chicken and put it in the fridge. One good side effect is that, since the collagen has dissolved into the sauce, the chicken marinates in a very concentrated chicken teriyaki jelly. I found that the thighs were more flavorful as time went on. It’s a bit like a confit, except not all of the preserving jelly is fat.

A simple breakfast is the best. I decided to make my childhood favorite: cheese and egg over some type of bread product–in this case, English muffins. There’s just something about runny eggs over sharp cheddar that reels me in every time.

Usually, I don’t feel like breakfast right when I get up. Something about sleep always fills my stomach–no matter how hungry I was the night before, and how many times I promised myself that I would get up and make a huge breakfast to satiate my appetite in the morning. I usually get hungry around mid-morning.

We also had some heirloom tomatoes on hand, so I chopped some up and threw some sea salt on for extra brightness and crunch. It was actually my first time eating heirloom tomatoes (you know, the overpriced ones that look ugly and disfigured, yet are pined after by desperate gastronomes). The taste was more delicate and sweet than a normal tomato, and a few had mushy centers, which I didn’t enjoy.