jamiepeck-blog

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It's that time again! 

Via myself, one year ago:

Over at Viceland today, I explain the origins of this wondrous dish and how it made mommy and daddy love each other again. Psych! It did not. But at least it’s packed with yummy red and green nutrients.

The original article has since disappeared from the Internet (is my salad TOO HOT FOR VICE?) but here is the unedited version I found in my Gmail. Merry Christmas friends, don’t forget to eat your fucking vegetables!

YOU DO WIN FRIENDS WITH SALAD

Christmas Salad came to me in a dream when I was ten. It’s a dumb clusterfuck of fruits, vegetables and “other” that only a child would think is a good idea, containing as it does such culinary no-nos as Craisins, fried onions, and real fruit in close proximity to tomatoes. The general concept behind it was “red and green,” but I made exceptions for such necessary items as mandarin oranges, bowtie pasta, and potatoes. The original version also contained shrimp cocktail, because I liked shrimp cocktail but only got to eat it on special occasions like bar mitzvahs and funerals, so I felt I might as well get to eat it on Christmas, too.

Because my mom is awesome, she helped me make my weirdly healthy little kid food dream a reality. Being Jewish, we always treated Christmas purely as a jumping-off point to create whatever imaginary fun winter holiday we felt like celebrating, so a giant wacky-pants salad was totally within reason. It was a late Hanukkah miracle that all that random crap tasted good together, and it quickly became a family tradition. My parents liked it because it gave them a break from all the gross things people tend to throw at your mouth around Christmas. I liked it because duh, I invented it. And really, what’s not to like? It’s like someone is having an underground rave in your mouth complete with crunchy glowsticks, chewy club drugs, and juicy little DJs!

This magic dish has survived my parents’ divorce, my mom’s various boyfriends, my dad’s various girlfriends, my Goth phase, my punk phase, and my current asshole blogger phase to become just as Christmas-y to me as our cat ornaments or Baraka, and certainly much more Christmas-y than Jesus. I know you probably don’t believe me that Christmas Salad is great tasting; maybe you think my parents only ate it to make it up to me for the fact that they never loved each other, which would be fair, but look: my mom’s current boyfriend, who has no particular stake in humoring me and who, due to an unpleasant Catholic upbringing, hates all things with “Christ” in the name, just served himself a heaping bowl of seconds. Put that in your Yule pipe and smoke it. 

The ingredients change somewhat from year to year, but here’s what we put in it this time. I hope you will try it at home and add in your own favorite things; shrimp cocktail is optional. Do you like corn? Sausages? Candy canes? Boca burgers? Tripe? Just like they teach you in bobo hippie school, there’s no wrong way to make it. And Christmas Salad is not just for eating at Christmas; that shit tastes just as good in summer. I mean, it’s a fucking salad.

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And here is something I wrote about Rihanna and the NFL's culture of victim-blaming, which is an important thing to talk about:

Dear CBS and NFL: Victim-Blaming Rihanna Is Not The Answer To Your Domestic Abuse Problem

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Is anyone still on Tumblr? Anyway, here is my write-up of Basilica Soundscape. It involves fireworks, stalking Thor Harris, tears, transcendence, and TWO AND A HALF HOURS OF SWANSSSSSS:

Searching For Swans At Basilica Soundscape 

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Scout Willis' #FreeTheNipple Protest Draws More Eyeballs Than Action

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With her new video “I Blame Myself,” the pop singer took on the role as a drug lord in the crime-ridden Compton. But is she really to blame for the clip's controversial depiction of race?

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After two of the core members split, the Pussy Riot movement has splintered into different directions—but it doesn't mean their efforts have been tainted.

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As the sun sets on one of lo-fi’s buzziest bands, one-third of Vivian Girls explains why it’s time to cut the lights and move on to new ventures.

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In which I live fast and ride hard at Richmond's Slaughterama.

pix by Debbie Allen.

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BLK MRKT NUT MILK IN MARIA HERNANDEZ PARK!

Food: BLK MRKT NUT MILK a.k.a. Mercado’s Organic

Score (0.0-10.0): 8.0

The other day as I was walking through Maria Hernandez Park, a guy asked if I wanted to sample some nut milk. At first I just kept on walking, but then I saw out of the corner of my eye that he was giving out free samples of actual hazelnut milk, so I took one.

As it turned out, his nut milk was, and remains, delicious. Cool and refreshing with a subtle but real hazelnut flavor, not the fake kind that stinks up the car when your friend gets a Dunkin Donuts coffee. It’s unsweetened, which I appreciate. Plus it comes in a fun glass medicine bottle, which somehow seems both quaintly old timey and sketchily Bushwick. I bought a bottle and have been putting it in my coffee, tea and cereal all week. It’s not much more expensive than regular old Almond Breeze but the use of such a seldom milked nut makes it feel ever so exotic and special.

The man (who goes by Ronny) told me he lives in the neighborhood and will hand deliver his product to my house whenever I like at no additional charge! He also makes almond, cashew, macadamia(!) and pistachio(!!) beverages, so something tells me I’m going to be sampling a whole lot more nut milk in the future. 

For more info, email mercadomars@gmail.com

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Memories!

Meet Terry Richardson’s Partner-in-Perv —> http://www.vocativ.com/underworld/sex/leslie-lessin-sleep-night-unmasking-terry-richardsons-partner-perv/

Among the many details that have surfaced regarding Terry Richardson’s private photo sessions, one of the ickiest is a female colleague who reportedly stands by to take photos and cheer him on as he engages in sex acts with barely legal models.

Charlotte Waters and Jamie Peck, two former models who have spoken out about their humiliating experiences with Richardson, have now confirmed that the colleague in question is Leslie Lessin, a successful stylist with a Rolodex of high-profile clients. According to both women, Lessin was the “assistant” who served as Richardson’s enabler, facilitator and collaborator during their shoots.

Continue

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I have a lot of opinions on food, so I started a blog to put them in. Tell your vegan friends!

Food: Daiya cream cheese style spread, chive and onion flavor

Score (0.0-10.0): 0.0 WORST NEW SPREAD

Let me preface this by saying that I love Daiya’s fake cheese shreds. Before Daiya came along, I pretty much didn’t eat pizza or nachos, because I’d rather have no pizza at all than pizza without the all-important element of melty, salty, gooey, mouth burning cheese. I even once sheepishly apologized to a restauranteur after his sudden axing of Daiya from the menu sent me on a roller coaster ride of emotions I was ill equipped to process in polite company. So when I started seeing Daiya’s cream cheese spread on the shelf alongside the usual Tofutti stuff, I was curious but not curious enough to drop a few extra dollars on it.

Well, earlier at Whole Foods I saw that the price had been lowered to be just about in line with Tofutti’s Better Than Cream Cheese, so I figured what the hell, I’m feeling adventurous today. 

Daiya, you dun goofed. 

This spread is so gross I don’t even want to taste it again for reviewing purposes. But it’s got a lot of bad stuff going on at once, so if I want to convey the full scope of its horror, I must.

It seems they tried to make it taste “cheesy” by loading it down with salt, lactic acid and vegan enzyme. A noble pursuit, but real cream cheese has a pretty mild flavor, so they overshot the mark by a lot. This would not be such a bad thing if the flavors were anywhere in line with what actual cheese tastes like, but instead they do a horrid little dance on the tongue that starts off just okay, veers off into Ashlee Simpson territory and ends on a bizarrely sweet and chemical note, like catching a note of soy in your vegan cheesecake only way worse because I actually like the taste of tofu. 

I’m tempted to bring it back to Whole Foods on the off chance that it’s simply gone bad, but the sell-by date isn’t until June and it doesn’t really taste like it’s gone bad. It tastes like it has simply always been bad, and not in a rancid, got-left-out-in-the-heat way, but in a rushed-to-market-too-soon, created-by-people-who’ve-never-tasted-the-competition way. I will take Tofutti and its partially hydrogenated soybean oil over this toxic sludge any day. 

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This is the truth.

Chairman Sandberg’s Great Lean Forward isn’t about advancing women, it’s about advancing the right women—those who want to advance corporate America in turn. Maybe this is why the ostensibly feminist foundation chose to highlight Congresswoman Ileana Ros-Lehtinen?

THIS IS WHAT I HAVE BEEN SAYING.

I have some serious problems with Lean In. I know a lot of kickass women who are inspired by the *concept* of leaning in (lowercase l, lowercase i), but the book itself is fawningly pro-corporate, suggests that women are held back not by structural barriers and entrenched discrimination but by our own sad-thinks, totally ignores the issues faced by (and existence of) women of color, bizarrely assumes that everyone wants a husband and kids (and no other social or cultural life), and is, quite frankly, utterly joyless. It’s the new Who Moved My Cheese, specifically targeting women as the new workhorses who will break their backs for corporations. The book has been endorsed (and purchased en masse, and handed out to employees!) by corporations that themselves are defendants in massive, well-documented sex discrimination lawsuits.

And now the Lean In machine is “highlighting” a Congresswoman who voted against Lily Ledbetter. Dear god, there is no excuse.

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Just finally watched that Chris Ott video. Oh man.

-I find the idea that it's possible to avoid exploitation or being a "sell out" under the wage system adolescent and absurd. Unless you're part of a worker owned cooperative, someone else is making a profit off of your hard work. (Amount of value you create minus the amount that they pay you.) Even the better, nicer, fairer kinds of bosses. That's just the way it's set up. If you don't like it, you might consider getting off your ass and agitating to change things.

-Like most members of the 99%, I can't afford to not have a job. 

-Given this fact, I'd rather have a job I mostly enjoy (writing) than a job I mostly don't (making coffee for $9/hour, taking my clothes off for guys I meet on ModelMayhem.com). In a perfect world, my love of writing would be de-coupled from my need to survive, but that's a topic for another day.

-I do not want to write "in my spare time" (which is what Ott seems to want me to do) when I could do the same amount of writing "in my work time" and use my spare time to volunteer, bake pies, go to parties, read books, hang out with my friends, watch The Wire with my boyfriend, and generally enjoy my existence. The writing I do for money probably differs somewhat from the writing I would do if money were abolished, but not to the degree that it makes it an unappealing career path.

-The benefit of mentorship from established and knowledgeable editors is also something it's difficult to attain while working outside the system. This is especially important for someone who is constantly plagued by crippling indecision and self-doubt, i.e. most writers.

-So I get paid to write about things I'm excited about, for readers who might not have as much time as I do to go to every show at 285 Kent or read blogs all day or whatever. Their eyeballs are then sold to advertisers, which I tolerate because that's the way shit gets paid for nowadays. Is this ideal? No, of course not. But given the choice, I would rather my job exist than not exist. I also like having things to read. And bands like getting paid. 

-And you know what? If x or y's cynical marketing strategies have the side effect of promoting alternatives to mainstream culture (which is fine, but shouldn't be the only thing out there) or introducing people to artists they love or just helping some musicians buy pizza, then good. The Habsburgs were despotic aristocrats but they served an important function in society. That didn't justify their existence, but at least there was an upside. I don't see how this is any different. 

-Of course I would rather live in an anarcho-syndicalist utopia where everyone pulls together to do the 10 hours of work a week they each need to do to keep society running and then gets to do whatever the fuck they want the rest of the time. But until we achieve that (i.e. for the foreseeable future and maybe forever), it seems sort of self-defeating to point the finger at powerless, well-intentioned young people for propping up a system that they don't have a choice about participating in.

-Liz Pelly was probably the worst example he could've picked of someone who is "fooling herself" or "in it for the wrong reasons" or whatever. I can't tell if he's trolling here or just so wrong that it seems like trolling.

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Food coma

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"I don't smoke, my flamingo does" --@baby_fog

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More Kusama coolness #cantstop

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Yayoi Kusama installation --- coolest thing I've seen in a long time, wish I could live in there forever