Announcer: Welcome to the premiere of Traveling Iron Chef. While Chiarman Kaga Takeshi’s “Kitchen Stadium” vision remains a fixture of Japanese culture, he recently gave a direct order to his younger brother, Lou. Instead of bumming around Kaga’s apartment watching television all day, Lou has been instructed to travel to the ends of the earth in an effort to discover more Iron Chefs. Moving through the countryside with an army of helpers and a scaled down “moderately equipped kitchen tent,” Lou searches for an answer to the eternal question, “Whose cuisine will reign supreme?”
Lou: We have traveled many moons from our homeland, and today we are broadcasting from the European country of Holland. Two local culinary artists will go in, but only one will come out with the title, “Iron Chef Amsterdam!” And now, the moment you have all been waiting for… today’s secret ingredient is… MARIJUANA!
Announcer: The marijuana plant, also known as hemp, cannabis, pot, grass, or weed, is one of the most rugged forms of flora known to mankind. Able to grow in almost any climate, marijuana has become a plant of choice for “amateur horticulturists” around the world. The non-flowering section can be used to produce cloth that is both durable and environmentally friendly. While using the bud of the plant as a cooking ingredient is not commonplace, a movement that can almost be described at underground has evolved to help promote marijuana consumption. Despite all this, the plant in question remains illegal in many parts of the world—due in large part to intensive tobacco company lobbying efforts.
Lou: To help judge the creations of our two Iron Chef candidates, we have three well-known members of Japanese society: Sumi, a young female actress from a popular soap opera, Typo, a fifty-five year old journalist, and Shooki, a new age psychic. They will be evaluating two highly respected Dutch chefs, Willhelm and Hansel. Chefs– you have one hour, starting now!
Sumi: I am very excited to be here. Hee hee hee.
Announcer: It appears that Chef Willhelm is preparing thinly-sliced duck breast for his first entrée.
Typo: I am an old, old man. And I am very good at complaining about things. This is why I am on the show so often.
Announcer: Well, this is quite amazing! Chef Willhelm is lighting a large pile of the marijuana on fire in order to SMOKE the duck breast. He is instructing one of the assistants to keep the smoke going at a constant rate. Chef Hansel is preparing chocolate and sugar. I think he is going to make some sort of a dessert.
Sumi: The tent is filling up with smoke. I kind of like it… I feel all tickly. Hee hee hee.
Shooki: Yes, I feel as though the spirits of 1000 dead relatives are inside my body dancing around and having a party.
Announcer: I’m not sure what the chefs are doing, but they are being very deliberate about their actions now. Perhaps they are contemplating their next dish. Someone had better tell them they only have one hour to complete the competition!
Typo: I find this smoke to be highly irregular. The secret ingredient should be in our tummies, and not in our lungs– very unusual. Am I talking too much? I feel as though the words are coming out of my mouth with much less effort than usual.
Shooki: I never found old, whiney Japanese men attractive until just now. Typo, can I touch your hand for a moment?
Typo: I am flattered, Shooki, but I must inform you that I called the front desk and had some hookers come up to my hotel room to pleasure me before the show. Did you know they can just add it to your room service bill? Are these thoughts in my head, or are they escaping out of my mouth?
Announcer: After spending the past five minutes staring at the top of the tent and smiling, chef Willhelm has sprung into action. He is getting something out of his pocket. It appears to be a cellular phone. Who could he be calling?
Shooki: I believe he is trying to get in touch with one of his deceased parents.
Typo: You are being foolish, Shooki. You can’t call dead people on a telephone. Where would the phone company send the bill?
Announcer: We have gotten more details from the cooking area. It appears Willhelm has called for pizza to be delivered to the tent. Extra pepperoni and bread sticks are the order. But will it get here fast enough? In the mean time, Hansel has finished baking brownies, and, if I’m not mistaken, just broke open a box of Hagelslag, or literally “chocolate hail.” This Dutch delicacy is generally used as a bread topping instead of cheese or jam.
Sumi: Chocolate hail? Is the tent going to hold up okay? Hee hee hee… snort! Snort! SNORT!
Announcer: Chef Hansel has just filled his mouth with Hagelslag. Now he is laughing uncontrollably and it appears the tiny pieces of chocolate are coming out his nose.
Lou: Competitors, your time is up!
Announcer: It has been quite an unsual hour. Chef Willhelm, please explain your dishes.
Chef Willhelm: I was planning on making a smoked duck dish, but my assistant got too high from the marijuana smoke and fell asleep under the table. So, as a backup plan, I had pizza delivered. Unless the delivery guy screwed up, it should be pepperoni. Unfortunately, I ate the bread sticks during the commercial.
Typo: I like the taste of the pizza, but if I am not mistaken, there is no direct connection with the special ingredient. Also, it feels as though the food getting larger in my mouth the more I chew it. Is that happening to anyone else?
Shooki: I see dead people! Get it? I’m being funny. It’s from that movie a few years ago– the one with the little kid.
Announcer: And now, Chef Hansel, tell us what you have done here.
Chef Hansel: Well, I don’t know about everyone else, but I got really stoned when what’s-his-name lit that big pile of pot on fire. But I’m used to it, so I made my favorite pot brownies. Oh yeah, and I’m sorry about the Hagelslag coming out my nose… it just seemed like a good idea at the time.
Typo: I think this dish truly enhances the flavor of the marijuana. Please do not be insulted that I didn’t try any of it– I’m saving it for the hookers in my hotel room.
Shooki: Can I go with you? I’ve never seen hookers before. How much do they cost?
Typo: It depends on what you want. You can ask them when we get back to the hotel.
Sumi: You are cute, so I’m going to give you a lot of points. Hee hee hee.
Announcer: The competition is complete. Who is going to be Iron Chef Amsterdam?
Lou: Sumi awarded Chef Hansel twenty points. Typo and Shooki seemed to have left without turning in their scorecards. So I guess the winner is… Iron Chef Hansel. Yeah, yeah, yeah, now hand me one of those brownies. And does anyone here have any Pink Floyd? I could really go for some Dark Side of the Moon right about now…
On April 16, 2012 an airline passenger was detained by the TSA due to luggage that contained two silicon breast enhancers that exceeded the TSA’s limit of 3.2 ounce limit on liquids and gels.
I’ve always had a healthy respect for Kathleen– the woman living in the apartment directly above me. In most respects she is an ideal neighbor. While we aren’t exactly the closest of friends, when we do run into each other we usually have a pleasant conversation about what is new and exciting in our lives. She even accepted my invitation to watch the game at my last Super Bowl party. Always concerned about making too much noise, she even asked me once if running her dishwasher after 10 PM was going to be too loud for me. Despite all this, I can’t seem to shake the notion that Kathleen spends her free time raising marsupials.
The other day I woke up, looked at myself in the mirror, and said to myself, “Is this going to be yet another bad hair day?” On a more typical day I would have simply gotten my hair wet and wrestled it into something resembling a hair style. I’m not sure why, [EDITOR'S NOTE: Maybe because your girlfriend-- who would have done everything in her power to stop you-- was out of town at the time.], but I decided on the slightly different approach of completely shaving my head.
My name is Omar Lutfey, and I recently lost my Kinetics virginity. Don’t bother looking for it under the sofa cushions or behind the mint Oreo ice cream in the freezer. I don’t know exactly what happened, but after May 5, 2006, it disappeared forever. Countless readers have been asking, no, demanding, that I document, in excessive and possibly accurate detail, what exactly happened at my virgin Kinetics experience. I spent months preparing for the event. I wanted every little detail to be perfect. Sure, I didn’t really know what I was doing—watching other people do it from a distance just isn’t the same. When the moment of truth came I took a deep breath, lunged in, and just did whatever felt natural. Ten seconds later I was finished—exhilarated, soaking wet, and surrounded by broken PVC pipe and camouflage painted Styrofoam blocks. Welcome to Kinetics.
