A Lost Watch Found, the Build a Bear Workshop, the Sukura Japanese Steak House and the Sorrow Hill Kickoff Party

You know, Gentle Reader, it was a busy day today, lest there be no doubt. I believe the title says it all. Welcome to my world.

Let’s just go in chronological order, ok?

“But Evil Chicken, it’s just a watch, what’s the big deal?”

Excuse me?

I recently lost my watch and turned over my bedroom looking for it today. I have a tad bit of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and I couldn’t rest until I found my Seiko Kinetic watch. It had been missing for about four days and, although I have a Coleman Camping watch as a back up, it’s just not my Seiko. You see my Seiko and I have been through many an adventure together – no really. We’ve been diving off the breakers at Assateague Island, on countless geocaches, and have survived many a pool party together, it’s taken its knocks and it has proved itself a worthy companion time and time again. It was missing. Something had to be done. I had to take action. I checked under the bed at least three times to no avail. Under my dresser? Check. Under my bed stand? Check. Mother Hen opened a drawer and, low and behold, there it was!

Man, I love that woman.

Man, I love that watch.

What’s this about “Build a Bear”?

Capitalism. Man, there’s nothing like it. Case in point – the “Build a Bear Workshop”. If you have access to children and you’ve been to a mall than you understand the seductive siren call of the stuffed animal cult that the “Build a Bear Workshop” is.

Oh my goodness.

What first struck me was the shear amount of humanity that frequents this establishment. There was an Irish family holding up the line as Chick 3.0 and I stepped into the boundaries of the place of business. I was tempted to call immigration on them just so the line would move faster. For some reason they had chosen a similar skin to stuff that Chick 3.0 had chosen.

“Oh bother,” as Pooh Bear, says. BTW, where I used to find “Pooh Bear” charming and an integral part of my childhood, I cannot stand the filthy blighter today. The well’s dun been poisoned.

The Irish family moved on. It did not matter. You see, any fears of a recession and our failing economy must be false because people are more that willing and able to spend their dollars at the “Build a Bear Workshop.” Everyone who has or is in close proximity to a child has brought them to this obscene and exploitative place of business.

Crazy? You bet. It just doesn’t matter. After the helpful, employee and Chick 3.0 stuffed the bear Chick 3.0 was then instructed to brush and comb her new Best Friend under the blowers and then to pick out clothing for her new Best Friend.

You know what, I do believe that a little bit of explanation is in order here for us to continue. The “Build a Bear Workshop” is a capitalist’s dream comes true. YOU (or rather your offspring, or grand-offspring or significant child other) choose a skin to stuff, ranging anywhere from $12.00 to $ 25.00 (we had a coupon and Chick 3.0 chose a $22.00 skin that resembles a Husky Dog). We are then led to a woman who by some strange magical powers enchanted my child to dance and spin and pick out a heart for her new FRIEND.

There is something macabre and grotesque about this process.

Chick 3.0 was instructed to stick a heart and a voice box into the skin and to stand on a pedal to pump her chosen skin full of stuffing.

“You know, Honey,” I began. “Dogs don’t like clothes.”

“You think so?” she asked.

“No doubt about it.” I said. “I’m the same way.” And with that my daughter and I – in a line that stretched around the store, mind you – began to maniacally giggle. It’s good to scare the straights every now and then. We were ushered over to the “Birth Certificate Center” or rather the “LET’S GET ALL YOUR PERSONAL INFORMATION CENTER.” And as happy capitalists we complied. We were now deemed clean to go to and to participate in the “Bearville” web site – once we pay our debt to the cult, mind you.

Life is good – or rather a 7 year-old Chick 3.0 feels that way.

Moving on…

Chick 2.0’s 11th birthday happened this past week and to celebrate we took her and her best friend out to the Sukura Japanese Steak House, Hibachi Grill just passed the Hamilton Mall in Mays Landing. Have you ever done Hibachi, Gentle Reader? If not, find one near you and go. Mother Hen and I have been only a handful of times and we have always wanted to take the kids so tonight was the night. They loved it. So did we. I had the Filet Mignon and Scallops and it rocked. Mother Hen jumped on the Filet and Shrimp while the girls got the chicken. Wonderful. Amazing feats of fire and cooking displayed right before your eyes. Much fun was had. Go, you’ll like it too.

It was a busy night. After dinner we hit Starbucks and then, after we traveled to the MVP Sports Bar in Buena, NJ. Man, what a crowd and most of them were there to wish a local filmmaker, Mr. Ronald DiPrimio well with his picture, “Sorrow Hill”. Mother Hen and I stopped in to do just that. As I’ve stated before, Ron is a truly talented guy and I can’t wait to see how this current project of his takes flight. He’s going to be one to watch. No doubt. He’s going to be shooting the trailer next weekend at a great location that I’m not giving away.

How cool is that?

If you are interested in filmmaking and want to read the ins and outs of making a project happen then you’ve got to check out Ron’s site here: http://www.grindhouse-pictures.com/. All the best bro.

“So, Evil Chicken – what have you been up to?”

Days like these, baby. Days like these.

Coffee – A History

So, do you like coffee? Is it something more than just the morning cup for you? Does the aroma intoxicate and captivate your senses? Do you appreciate the richness of the flavor and the subtleties of the beans or is all that stuff too fru fru for you and coffee is just coffee?

My Dad used to feel that coffee was only good to be used as a means of waking up. I was too young at the time to argue with him – I didn’t know any better. I do now. The passage of time has brought with it a caffeine addiction and a deep appreciation for the coffee bean and all the wonders it can bring.

Thanks to Wikipeidia (my favorite second brain) here are the humble roots of my favorite beverage. In the 9th Century coffee spread from the highlands of Ethiopia to Egypt and Yemen. By the 15th Century it reached Persia, Egypt, Turkey and Northern Africa.

In 1511 it was deemed a forbidden stimulant from Mecca but the die had been cast; it was popular – people liked their caffeine highs. The order to have it banned was overturned in 1524 by the order of the Ottoman Turkish Sultan Selim I. Cairo had a similar ban in 1532. It was soon overturned since the people stormed the coffee and warehouses containing coffee beans, sacking them in search of their acquired taste for caffeine.

In the 17th Century coffee spread to Europe. From there it reached the shores of America. Colonists didn’t initially take to it finding it a poor substitute for alcohol. By the time of the Revolutionary War people were plugged in and needing their Joe. By the time of the Civil War advances in brewing technology made coffee an everyday commodity here in the United States of America.

Today we share the cup and bask in the glow of the caffeine as it courses through our veins – warming us, keeping us alert and ready to face whatever the future may hold. Liquid inspiration. My muse starts whispering in my ear just about after the second cup. But just who has the best coffee out there? Whose brew is worth your time? Gentle Reader here are some of Evil Chicken’s favorites; granted I am only limited to the places that I haunt but rest assured I will gladly sample any suggestions that you provide. So without further ado…

Café DuMonde (New Orleans, LA). They’ve been in business at the French Market for over a century. They are open 24/7, only closing on Christmas and “for the occasional hurricane”. You will want to order a Café Au Lait (half coffee with chicory and half hot steamed milk) and a plate of Beignets. I would gleefully stop eating low carb for another visit. If you’re there – GO; you will not be disappointed.

Wawa (Delaware Valley). That’s right; I said it – Wawa. Excellent grab a cup and go coffee. I get to mix the exact chemical balance between two or three Splendas and a shot of Half & Half. Kona is my blend and 16-ounce is the perfect size. Some swear by Dunkin’ Donuts coffee – not me; I like to be the only one who touches it after it brews – most of the time I remember where my hands have been; most of the time.

Starbucks (Everywhere). Yes it’s a corporate empire but it is consistently the best game in town, or rather towns coast to coast – oh, I’m sorry; Starbucks is global. They can be pricey and one must learn the lingo on how to order a cup of coffee but it is worth the extra shekels and the time to comprehend the menu. As Number One said in Austin Powers, “…They produce a quality product.” Who am I to argue with one of Doctor Evil’s minions?

Bogart’s Coffee & Books (Millville, NJ). Not only is this one of my favorite coffee shops but it’s also my absolute favorite bookstore in the known universe. Great blends, books and, on Third Fridays, local musicians, artists and storytellers make their rounds. The place is full of characters and character. So is the coffee.

Fuel House Coffee Co. (Vineland, NJ). Try the Black Satin. Smooth, rich and caffeinated; just the way I like it. The business is also a Bain’s Deli. There’s seating and a stage in the back for musicians, comics and poetry slams. It can get real busy at lunchtime so plan accordingly. They’ve been known to close a little early too – even so, great coffee.

Crescent Moon Café (Mullica Hill, NJ). They roast their own beans. Nice. They know what they’re doing too. If you time it right or if you are lucky enough you can watch them roast the beans in their roaster/tumbler. The smell is amazing and there’s more skill and science to it than one would think. The Sumatran blend is awesome. The place is a little fru fru but worth the visit.

Brenner’s Brew (Bridgeton, NJ). Try a large French Roast. This is another fine place for checking out local musicians and artists. This place feels like Jack Kerouac has just breezed through for a cup and some conversation before hitting the road once again. Neat place.

So there you have it, my favorites. So, what did I miss? Where would you recommend? I’ll pack the Splenda and Half and Half – you tell me the spots!

Enjoy.