Alibi V.13 No.25 • June 17-23, 2004 

Gastrological Forecast

Can't be with your dad on his special day? Celebrate Father's Day the way the Old Man would if he were around: Get drunk and fall asleep on the couch watching reruns of "Shadetree Mechanic." Be sure to wear your filthiest jeans and don't take your shoes off before you get comfy on the new white couch. Then, spread a thick litter of dad snacks in a wide circle around your body, making sure that at least half of the crumbs get pushed down between the sofa cushions. (For real authenticity, throw about $4 worth of loose change under the cushions too.) Shop ahead for a bag of honey mesquite barbecue-flavored potato chips, some jalapeño beef jerky, a can or two of cheese puffs and a tall tin of mixed nuts. Dads don't give a damn about calories—except when it comes to beer—so neither should you. Don't worry that each handful of nuts contains 14 grams of fat, you're drinking Bud Light! Don't answer the phone or get up for any reason other than to avert an impending rupture of your distended bladder. Then, around 6 p.m., get up the energy to make a run for a bucket of fried chicken and more beer. Get back on the couch but switch to whatever channel is running the James Bond marathon. Enjoy!

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The Dish

All the News That's Fit to Eat

Somebody at Wrigley should be fired. In fact, a whole team of hacks need to get canned for releasing the world's most hideously disgusting chewing gum. Just when you thought the extreme flavor revolution had reached its pinnacle, the mad scientists over Wrigley dig deep into their vaults to unearth this wretched beast of a grocery store checkout line impulse buy. Showing that the experience of flavor is a vicious circle, not an unending march in the direction of tastebud pleasure progress, Wrigley's Eclipse team has come up with new maddeningly repulsive cough syrup flavored gum. Actually, the stuff is called Uniquely Soothing Cherry Chill. What's uniquely soothing is that the gag-inducing cherry flavor has a slow-release menthol aftertaste that will cool your throat after you vomit. I encourage you, dear readers, to avoid the stuff at all costs. I also highly encourage the in-house counsel at Robitussin to consider suing Wrigley for raiding their flavor files.

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Bottoms Up

Wedding Wine Bliss

Taking the pain out of picking wines

Although people get hitched all year 'round, brides' magazines bloom on supermarket racks in the spring. Filling their pages, in between the infinite glossy ads, are articles designed to make the ceremonious marriage rite run smoother, classier and sometimes cheaper. I'm not married—nor planning to be—but browsing through these mags makes me realize that the endless wedding decisions can drive you to cancellation. The wine choice shouldn't be the hardest, but, if you're to believe what you read, some intimidated brides feel it is. Ignore the overwhelmed feeling ... it should be fun, easy and inexpensive.

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Tasteful Reads

A Spanish Tapas Party From Santa Fe's El Farol

Recipes from James Campbell Caruso's new cookbook

Spanish food is perfect for summer. When it's hot and you're feeling sluggish—not peckish—and little plates of cool tapas come to the table, your tummy is suddenly ready for some action. In the summertime, Santa Feans are particularly fond of El Farol, a Spanish restaurant in a beautiful old adobe on Canyon Road. There, Chef James Campbell Caruso puts out a mouthwatering menu of tapas that can reinvigorate even the most wilted appetites. Santa Fe can be too far for us to drive when the mood suddenly strikes so aren't we lucky that El Farol finally published a cookbook? The eponymously titled El Farol (hardcover, Gibbs Smith, $29.95) is a collection of the chef's favorite dishes, including a large collection of both cold and hot tapas. Here's a preview of the book, a collection of tapas (plus soup and dessert) that would work beautifully together as a refreshing backyard dinner.

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Chowtown Restaurant Guide

Nursing It Back

Little Sir Dan, sat with his hands, aloft over keyboard with a frown. Along came his boss, and with a crumpled note he did toss, asking “Hey, we doing a Chowtown?!”

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