Jared AxelrodWriter of Adventure

Tomorrow is the chosen date for the first of what I am hoping is many IRON CHEF: PHILADELPHIA battles.  I am incredibly nervous. The best way to decrease nervousness is to prepare in advance, but there is only so much one can do with the “mystery ingredient” remaining, well, a mystery.

Luckily, Jenn and Russell–dear friends, through and through–came over to do a test run.  What mystery ingrediant did they bring?  Why, none other than…ZUCCHINI!!! The timer was set for an hour, and we got to work!

This was a good test, as it gave me experience not only cooking on the fly, but also directing various sous cooks. Having twice as many people as normal also gave a good safety net, and allowed us to make not one, not two, not three but FIVE dishes in the space of one hour:

Zucchini Stir Fry

With yellow peppers, chantrelle mushrooms and onions. I put very little seasoning in this beyond hot pepper flakes and garlic. Zucchini has such delicate flavor, I didn’t want to overwhelm it.  This was basically a hot salad.

Singular Ratatouille

A riff on ratatouille, only without eggplant and yellow squash. Thinly sliced zucchini baked with parmesean, olive oil and a chunky, bacon-infused tomato sauce. Probably my favorite dish of the evening.

Zucchini Mac & Cheese

Grated zucchini in a parmesean and goat cheese sauce, with whole wheat penne. While the goat cheese added a delicious creaminess to the sauce, it overwhelmed the zucchini. Still, so tasty I found myself craving it today.

Zucchini Stew

Zucchini and chicken stew infused with the flavors of bacon, curry, smoked paprika and pale ale. Despite the multitude of ingredients, zucchini did stand out in this hearty stew, just not near enough. Lesson learned: you can never add too much of the secret ingrediant.

Zucchini and Apple Puree

The puree was blended with cinnamon, vanilla and sugar, and topped with yogurt and shredded Gruyere cheese. The inspiration for this came from Jenn, who mentioned eating a zucchini pie that tasted like apples. I handed this one off to J.R., Mistress of Apple Sauce, and she developed an almost-puddling like puree that managed to be sweet and taste like the vegetable at it’s base. The yogurt and Gruyere added a wonderful creamy bite to the desert as a whole.

So, lessons learned? I only have one oven, so it’s use is crucial. If I want a cold desert, start it early. Salt is a friend, especially with watery vegetables. Dogfish Pale Ale is very sweet. Listen to J.R. about what cheese to put where.

All in all, a fabulous evening, a good test run, and a lovely dinner with friends. Who could ask for more?

For those who were curious about a rather large entry on the project list, yes, I am orchestrating an Iron Chef battle to take place this weekend.  My opponent is not one to be underestimated, but I feel confident in my abilities.  Not so confident that I haven’t been practicing, however. I’ve been trying out some flavor combinations–peanut butter goes surprisingly well with lamb, and manchego cheese goes well with…well, everything–and working on getting my speed up in the kitchen.  I can now whip up a batch of orecchiette in an hour, should it come to that.

In addition to new food, we also got some some new plates, as you can see above. J.R. remarked that we didn’t purchase plates so much as frames, and there’s truth to that. They shall, after all, be holding art.

Rushed, delicious art.

That knife there is J.R.’s, also bought for the battle.  She agreed to be my sous for this, on the condition that if she was going to be doing chopping, she wanted something serious to chop with. Some people might be intimidated by a knife that size.  Not my wife, but some people.

The battle is set for this Saturday, at 4pm. Because no one has access to a kitchen stadium, we’re splitting up the battle between our two respective kitchens. I’m going first, so we’re starting at my place, and when the tasting and judgement of my dishes is over, we’ll go over to her’s and do it all over again.  I’m extremely excited.

Audience members are welcome, but keep in mind that there’s not really much of a view into our kitchens and only the judges get to eat. We might film it, maybe. I can guarantee pics of the completed dishes, though.

Will my cuisine reign supreme?  I sure hope so.

With superhero comics becoming more and more impenetrable due to their insistence on fetishizing decades of continuity, it comes as little surprise that one of the best superhero narratives in the past year was a film, THE DARK KNIGHT. In thinking about what made DK so compelling, I found myself struck with the similarities to ULTRAMAN MOEBIUS & ULTRAMAN BROTHERS. UM&UB exists in a very different world than DK, and yet they hit the exact same story beats. DK may have more meat on it, but UM&UB’s simple structure lays bare the elements that make both superhero stories great.

Naturally, one might think that if these elements work so well with these two stories with their radically different concepts and intended audience then should be universal. In fact, when compiling this list, I was struck how every single one of these points are echoed in the best superhero story of the past few years, Grant Morrison and Frank Quietly’s continuity-free ALL-STAR SUPERMAN.

1) Start the story by showing how horrible the badguy is. This is almost counter-intuitive; surely the hero should show up first? Not really. We know who the hero is, that’s his name on the title, so we know who it is we came to see. What we don’t know is who he’s going to face. So let’s take some time to show what the threat level is. And if possible, show that threat on the moon.

2) If you must have a damsel in distress, go out of your way to show how smart and capable she is. Make her a young genius who would have led a happy and perfectly fulfilling existence had evil not show up to turn her into a trophy the hero must achieve. Scientists, reporters and lawyers are good for this.

3) Mentors are important, and full of wisdom. It’s always good to have a few people older and wiser than the hero. These guys can despense advice and encouragement, and, when necessary, act disappointed. Tangentially related to this is the “mustached adult” character, who is not a mentor per-se, but a partner who provides unconventional assistance. These guys are the uncles who go along with your plan to get illegal alcohol after the father-figures have already said no.

4) When out of costume, your hero should have a leather jacket.  This should be self explanatory. 

5) Don’t explain how things work. Honestly, the audience doesn’t care. Show it working, and leave it at that. The Ultraman Brothers can create a cage that lasts 20 years by firing their Ultrabeams at each other? Sure. Batman can get a fingerprint from a shattered bullet in a brick wall. Fine. A formula to grant superpowers? Why not? We believe it because we watch it happen, not because someone explains the details.

6) Have some other people dressed similar to the hero. Again, this appears counter-intuitive. Surely the hero should be one of a kind, right? Well, yes and no. We want to show how unimportant the costume is, and what better way to show lesser versions of the hero in lesser versions of the costume? Ski-masks are optional, but they make the point eloquently.

7) Super-violence affects us all. Be we a small boy who watched his dog destroyed by a monster, or regular people on a ferry sitting on a bomb. This is where you pin your emotional peak, on these people. The heroes and villains have enough to worry about.

8 ) Evil looks evil. We should never for a moment doubt who the bad guys are. Their outsides should look just as twisted as what lies within.

9) Sacrifice is necessary in order to triumph. To have a quality ending, you have to raise the stakes to the point that hero cannot win unscathed. The climax must be hard-won, or it has no business being at the end of the story.

10) The story is over, but the legend continues. Even though the villain is defeated, there’s other dangers out there, and the sunset must be ridden out toward. The is not so much setting up for the sequel as it is showing the war against evil never ends. And our heroes are ready to face it.

You know what else follows these rules to the letter? IRON MAN. In fact, one can use how well that film follows these rule to how satisfying (on not, in the case of the climax) it was as a whole. One of the best superhero comics of the past year, Jaime Hernandez’s brilliant riff on female superheroes in Love & Rockets: New Stories #1, follows most of them–we’ll see if he hits all of them later this year when Hernandez publishes the climax.

Nerd that I am, I’ve always got some sort of superhero story in the back of my head.  It’s good to know how to put ‘em together.

Seriously, you guys. I just watched this, this glory, this beautiful valentine to men in latex longjohns pummeling other men in rubber monster suits. This is superhero action in its purest form, a lollipop-bright crystal of a film about the nature of bravery and the usefulness of hitting things until they break. It’s full of close calls and heart swelling moments, and if you don’t feel like cheering when a little kid overcomes his fears and charges toward where a 20-story tall monster is destroying the city to save his dog, you aren’t even human.

And let me tell you, after watching this? SUPERMAN RETURNS was total bullshit. X-MEN: THE LAST STAND, too. I thought they were underwhelming films at the time, but now I see that they weren’t trying nearly hard enough.

ULTRAMAN MOEBIUS AND ULTRAMAN BROTHERS was made in the same year, begins with four superheroes fighting a monster on the moon and climaxes with seven superheroes battling a villain of such scale that it dwarfs our heroes, who happen to be 150ft tall. This is including the standard “superhero loses faith in himself only to regain it by the final reel”plotline, discussion of the emotional consequences of giant monster battles and nods to a 40-year continuity.

Seriously. This, and the DARK KNIGHT are my new standard for superhero movies. Anything less is not worth it.

Metric - Help I’m Alive

Yes, I am indeed going to New York Comic Con

It’s kind of hilarious, actually. Since New York Comic Con restarted in ‘06, I swore I wouldn’t go back. That was a promise kept for exactly one year, after which I returned, only to swear off of it again. And now I am going once again. Apparently, NYC cannot resist my wit and charisma, and keeps coming up with reasons for my return.

If you’re there, you’ll probably see me.  I’ll be one looking stylish and charming publishers.

The Alligator, as he was know in both heroic and wrestling circles, wanted nothing more than to be a woman. He expressed this to Croco, his sidekick/manager.

“First off, and I am stressing this because I believe it is important,” Croco said, stubbing out his cigar. “You will never wrestle again. Not in the way you’re used to.”

It was here that the Alligator brought up Nong Thoom.

“Nong Thoom,” said Croco. “Only does movies and exhibition matches. If that’s what you wanna do, I’m sure we can arrange something. Maybe with one of your Society of Saviors chums. Folks love heroes fighting heroes, for some reason.”

The Alligator conceded that an exhibition match was not quite the fire of combat he normally enjoyed in the ring, but that the idea of facing his teammates for charity struck him as a fine idea.

“Well, like I said, we can arrange that, whether you go through with this or not.” Croco paced back and forth in his small office. “More to the point, I think, is that Nong Thoom weighed 140 pounds before the operation. You’re a big guy, ‘Gator. You’re good as a big guy.”

The Alligator thought on this. He looked at himself in the mirror, all seven feet eight inches of him. His chest was broad, his muscles nearly bursting the seams of his jade jumpsuit. He looked down at his large, scarred hands. Not exactly ladylike.

The Alligator turned and faced Croco. “My size is who I am. I need you to understand, Croco, as you closer than family to me. I am not changing who I am. I am merely altering the outside to match what is inside.”

Croco looked up at the man who had saved his life countless times. “If this what you want, I’m behind you,” he said.

The Alligator hugged the smaller man, in a grip that would have crushed a lesser person. The Alligator wiped a tear from the eyehole of his mask, and asked Croco if it was possible for him for him to have as nice a chest as Chyna.

Croco lit another cigar. “Gator, old buddy, let me make some calls. I’ll get you better, or I ain’t worth my paint as your sidekick!”

Born Of An Atom Bomb is a daily warm-up piece, where I base a character around a random word or phrase. Today’s word: alligator

The Eyeball Kid can see exactly how you’re going to break her heart. She can see your moves before you make them, the lies in your eyes and the sweat on your brow. She can see though your slight hug, your bloodless peck on the cheek. She can see what you’re doing.

The Eyeball Kid can see you’re about to say that it isn’t her, it’s you. She can see herself agreeing, and being an adult about the whole thing. She can see past you, and your pettiness. She can see the future, and she can see who will regret this, and who won’t.

She can see that it’s over. She can see the million little clues you carry with you in a cloud. Clues that tell her everything she needs to know about the girl you’ve met, what she does for a living and what she likes to do to you bed. This last bit causes her to smirk slightly, but she quickly hides it. But not because she’s afraid you saw it.

You only notice when things are missing.

Born Of An Atom Bomb is a daily warm-up piece, where I base a character around a random word or phrase. Today’s word: eyeball

Kelly, over at her awesome site Convention Fans, interviewed me about my various costuming proclivities. As ever, I am full of advice and probably more information than you require.

If you’ve come here from Convention Fans, welcome! There’s more costume pics here and over at my flickr. There’s also a bunch of other stuff that’s not really costume related.  Feel free to poke around!

Paleface swings down from the rooftops, scraping sky. His head a skull, all exposed teeth and sunken eyes. Paleface swings down, inky cape bringing the night down with. Pasleface swings down, his skull gleaming in the moonlight. See his skull and his large fists, and know what’s coming. Paleface swings down from the rooftops full of promises. Promises of justice and judgment. Paleface swings down and keeps every damn one.

Paleface swings down surrounded by a sea of near-truths. He’s death himself. He’s a man in a mask. He’s got a halo, wings, horns and a tail. Paleface is a thunderclap, a lightning bolt, the darkness itself. Paleface swings down, questions and legends tugging at his cape. Pulling him down, swinging him down.

Paleface swings down, Paleface swings down. Paleface swings down from the rooftops, scraping sky, his moon-white skull grinning amongst the stars. Paleface swings down to keep his promises. Paleface swings down into the filth and danger, keeping his promises close to the chest, as always. Paleface swings down because he can’t look up, not through that mask of bone. The brow’s too heavy, the eyes too dark. Paleface swings down from the rooftops, scraping sky and anything else in the way.

Paleface swings down further and further, ‘till he reaches the bottom.

Born Of An Atom Bomb is a daily warm-up piece, where I base a character around a random word or phrase. Today’s word: pale