American Idol gets KISSed

Oh the flamboyance! The leather! The hair! The flames! And I haven't even mentioned KISS yet. The biggest, cheesiest, greatest band in the world on the biggest, cheesiest...show in the world. They go together like peanut butter and jelly or clown paint and platform shoes.

I'm told this Adam kid should have probably won and judging by his pipes, I won't argue. But I could have told him that performing with the hottest band in the world would have cost him the liberal elite vote, as well as the Christian right. Balls to the wall Lambert. I like your style.

Handfelt Hodgepodge

For the most part, it's been all quiet on the Handfelt front of late. It's been a while since we posted anything (Katy is holding out for more money and Carmella is just plain difficult), so I figured I'd do a sort of a random cornucopia of Handfelt facts, tidbits and musings. After all, our readers demand pictures of food (those requests are second only to requests of 'no more shirtless pictures of Ben' ) to go along with all of the sorted details of our jet-setting lives. You say that there's a difference between jet-setting and falling asleep on the couch at 9:30pm on a weekend, exhausted from a wild Friday night (ahem, evening) of grocery shopping? Tomato/Tomahto.

Alright, here we go. Don't get your hopes up, as none of these ramblings fall under the traditional definition of 'entertaining' or 'worthwhile'.

-The Bulls-Celtics playoff series took a solid 3.5 years off my life. My goal of living til I'm 100, only to die in shark-filled waters may have to be adjusted slightly. What a series that was though. I soiled numerous pairs of underwear, so much so that I just took to wearing a diaper around the house. For effect, I also bought a rattle and a bum bum. Needless to say, I cried like a baby after Game 7. Such is life. I'm a fan of the Cubs, Bears and Arizona Cardinals. That kind of fandom steels you for disappointment like this.

-My new obsession is cool, old black & white photo booths. Not the dorky kind they have at the mall where it's one photo with a cheesy 'Cupid's Buddies!' border around it (although don't get me wrong, I think we have one of those around here somewhere), but the old school B&W strips of four. I found a cool website that lists all of the photobooths by geographical area and even does write-ups and reviews on the various photobooths found at bars across the country.

In the picture above, the strip on the right was from Spring of 07' at Schubas. The one on the left is from a couple of weeks ago at Holiday Club, a bar we proceeded to use just for their photobooth and then leave immediately after Katy astutely noticed that it "smelled like throw up and Windex." That accounts for Katy plugging her nose in the first picture. Odd that even though these were taken two years apart, the poses are very similar. That's either uncanny or uncreative, although I'll also accept 'a miracle'.

-I was officially promoted at work about a month or so ago. I am officially a Senior Publicist (or as I call myself, "King Shit") and in these times of job uncertainty, I certainly don't take that for granted. My goal of creating a Daley-esque Chicago PR dynasty, minus the corruption, is well underway. I just have to master the Chicago accent without sounding like a fool. Not as easy it may sound, given my penchant for foolishness.

-Katy is getting pretty busy at her work as well. Her boss is getting ready for her maternity leave, so the onus is falling on Mrs. Handfelt. Though she'd never admit as much herself, she's really stepping up her game, kicking some ass and politely taking names. I'm extremely proud of her, and seeing how far she's come professionally over the past year is really quite impressive. She was also accepted into her grad program and is getting a bit nervous about going back into student mode. To help ease her nerves, I bought a keg of beer, which I keep in the living room at all times, just in case she gets the impromptu urge to do a keg stand. I also yell, 'Chug, chug, chug' every time she drinks water, which she doesn't seem to think is as funny as I do for some reason.

-We ate at Tanoshii Sushi last Friday, which was the site of some of our New Year's Eve debauchery. This time things were kept in check and my Hefner blazer was kept in the closet. The food was awesome. I got the one of the Sushi Mike Special rolls - you tell him what you like, he makes it - called the Italian Roll (olive oil infused with spices is poured on top of the maki roll) along with the must-have appetizer, 'fish and chips', which is sushi grade fatty tuna mixed with avocado, onions, roe and lemon juice served on top of fried puff pastry chips, prepared table side. Chip and salsa, you've finally met your maker. Plus the place is BYOB, a trend that every city should investigate.

-Saw both Tyson and Wolverine sans the wife. Tyson was pretty riveting, if admittedly one-sided, since it only tells the story from Iron Mike's perspective. Regardless, there's a lot to like here, and Tyson comes off as flawed to be sure, but surprisingly self-aware and intelligent. For the sake of a lame analogy, I give it a TKO. Not quite a knockout (they gloss over the substance abuse and rape charge), but worth your while, especially if you're considering a face tattoo like I am. Wolverine was exactly what you'd expect. A testosterone-laden comic film that lacks the depth of The Dark Knight and the wit of Iron Man, but is a passable popcorn flick as long as you go in with your expectations in check. Combine those two movies ('Tyson vs. Wolverine') and now you've got yourself a movie.

-We're still considering buying a car, although our allegiances have shifted and we are now considering some models that weren't in the running a few weeks ago. It will come down to the wire, and not to tip our hand, but it looks like the two finalists rhyme with Perrari and Shmamshmorgini. It's all about economy and practicality, and not "pulling tail" as most reputable car dealers would lead you to believe. Recommendations are welcome from our readers, although Hummer jokes are frowned upon.

-We walked down to Wrigleyville last weekend and bought a couple of new Cubs t-shirts. My pleas for matching tank tops fell on deaf ears. I give the new krausened Old Style a big thumbs up. Seriously, I know it's Old Style, but it's good. Good for you too, or so I'm told. We ate at Lucky Sandwich Shop and apparently every single sandwich there is served with fries and coleslaw...on the sandwich. While not terrible tasting, this seems to be wholly unnecessary and confusing to dim patrons such as myself.

-Lots of my esoteric ramblings can be read over at Thunder Matt's Saloon. For sports fans, particularly Cubs fans, this site is a must read. Hmmm...maybe I wouldn't go as far as to say must, but should. How about could? Yeah, it's a could read. Does that make sense? Let's just put it this way: if you have the site saved to your favorites even though you've only visited it like once (that time I emailed everyone about it years ago), well there's no use in deleting it now is there? If you accidentally click on it when trying scroll down to Facebook, all the better.

-Speaking of Facebook, I've really slowed up on the updates (although I still check it every day) and I refuse to Twitter/Tweet. The details of this blog are mundane enough and it's only updated like once a week. I can't imagine that anyone would interested in the minutia of my daily existence. If anything, it would just expose me as a fraud and topple my well-crafted Pretentious Bastard persona. Nothing wrecks street cred like letting people know that you spent your Saturday night drinking sugar-free Margaritas, watching Lost and constantly checking your fantasy baseball team on your blackberry. Whoops! I think I just Tweeted.

Pork dumplings, miso soup and 'fish and chips' at Tanoshii. Heard but not seen: 'Maggie May'-era Rod Stewart playing in the background.

A Red Meat Chest Bump

Last summer, I made the executive decision to try to expand my admittedly lacking set of marketable skills to include two new ones: grilling a damn good steak and cooking breakfast. While the latter is still a work in progress, tonight I reached my pinacle in regards to the former.

Filet Mignons, cooked medium rare, served with tarragon butter grilled asparagus and sauteed mushrooms. It should be noted that this was the first time that I had attempted cooking filets on our new grill, and due to it's lack of fat, the filet is a pretty tricky cut of meat. All modesty aside, I nailed it. Thank God, as the last thing you want with a filet is a $12 piece of beef jerky. The veggies weren't half bad either. As proof, check out this picture below. If that doesn't put hair on your chest I don't know what will. Now if I can just master the perfect pancake.

On an unrelated side note: Go Bulls. If anything can match the quality of these filets, it's this Bulls-Celtics series. You know it's good when even Katy is setting down her book to watch. Deelish.

Moo! Shut up cow!

Get In My Belly!

The Clark Burger at the recently opened The Stretch Bar and Grill, 3485 N. Clark Street. One of the best burgers that I've had in the city...it was a great way to kick off our first trip down to Wrigleyville to watch the Boys in Blue. Lest you question my gluttony, we split the burger. (Ahem, along with an order of fried Mac N' Cheese balls.)

A beautiful Saturday, capped off with a Cubs walk off win and complete with our first seasonal trip to our favorite dive bar, The Gingerman. The bartender Craig took a liking to us and plied us with Iron City beer* and free glasses of Jeremiah Weed Sweet Teas.

Read my full review of The Stretch over at Thunder Matt's Saloon by clicking here.

*The sign of a good bartender (besides giving you free drinks) is when they can tell you're trying to be cheap (ordering Old Style) and they tell you, "Order this, it's like a buck cheaper and just as good." That's looking out for the little guy. Much respect.

Cheese N' Babies

Ben: We headed back to the ole' Loo Town (raising roof) last weekend to see friends and family, eat fried food and attend baby showers. We took Good Friday off and swung by the Woodfield Mall in Schaumburg on our way home. Now I know why we never see any high school kids in the city; they're all at that mall. Every one of em. I actually took a informal census to confirm this. We took Highway 20 through Galena home, which was much more scenic than our usual route, even if if did go against my slightly irrational fear of driving on two-lane highways.

Cory brought the kids, Sienna and Griffin, up to Mom's on Friday night and we ordered The OP (fist pump) and gently ribbed Ron on a myriad of different topics, which is always a good time. Sienna continues to be a big fan of her Uncle Ben, which is to be expected given how awesome I am. On Saturday we went to Gary's Restaurant (blue hair alert!) where I erroneously ordered the tenderloin instead of their standby the "hot beef" (my nickname in high school). Dammit Gary, don't tell me your tenderloins are hand breaded when they clearly aren't. This trickery will not stand!

More chilling with Susan and Ron followed (we test drove a car...yep, we're back in play) and before you know it, it was time to eat again. This time, the four of us hit up Waterloo institution Rudy's Tacos. If you're lactose intolerant, for God's Sakes, just stay at home and pull the sheets over your head. Mounds and mounds of shredded cheese cover every single dish on the menu. This is Gringo Mexican food, but it's fresh and it's damn good. (*Pounding chest to ease mild heart attack.)

After that we bid Susan and Ron adieu (I curtsied, as is custom in America) and went to the attached Lava Lounge. They have a free jukebox. That is so money. Or should I say, not money? Because it's free...get it? Lifetime arch-rivals Cody and Troy met us there and we enjoyed some Margaritas and Stella (Judging by his grimace, Troy may have consumed the Stella rather than enjoyed it), before Troy and I headed to Main Street in Cedar Falls. First it was Toads and then off to the second floor of Pump Haus, which must be some covert teen nightclub, because I swear to God nobody up there was old enough to buy porn, much less beer. Troy's brother-in-law Andy met us out at some point and we ended up eating burritos at a poor man's Chipotle at the end of the night. All in all a good weekend with the family and friends. I'll throw it over to Katy to cover her half. Mrs. Handfelt?

Katy: Saturday I attended my friend Jen's baby shower for her baby, Pedro. I'm sure you're all wondering what my gift of choice was...the shopper that I am. Well, I'll admit that each time I go to purchase a baby gift, my mind freezes up and I end up standing in the Target baby section for about 50 minutes. Seriously. Exchanging looks with other non-mothers there, registries in hand. In the end, I went with the ol' standby of a Target giftcard and a basket filled with children's books (whose library is complete without the classic, Biscuit Goes to School?!). I also picked out some nutty nursery rhyme book, complete with CD and a baby sign language book as well. Pedro will for sure be the smartest kid on the block now, thanks to my spectacular gift giving abilities. Poor kid!

The shower was at the Cedar Falls Visitors Center, which was a really serene location off of Hudson Road in CF near a pond and pretty fields. After all the shower's baby talk, some yummy green party punch, and a belly full of cake (decorated with some crazy jungle animals and slouchy elephant), I was ready for to hit up Rudy's for some Mexican food and Corona. I was smart and called it a night at about 10pm, at which time I left the boys to their own devices (see above). Luckily, Easter Sunday came and both Ben and I felt fine, praise the Lord! We spent the better part of the day with my parents and my cute Grandma Karen. Or "GK" to those in the know, aka my mom and I. Yay, Petersens!

My "small combo" at Rudy's. Taco, tostada, enchilada and CHEESE. Dayum.

Deep fried Cheese Crisp. I hate you but I love you.

L-R: No Code, Hot Beef, Lemon Hooch

Margarita Madness

Ever since the 21-year-old version of me (and what a handsome devil he was!) collided with Mexican cantinas whose liquor licenses remained intact, I've been captivated by the Margarita. Always on the rocks, with salt. I used to have a weird thing where I only liked them when they were served in those giant fishbowl glasses (seriously, I would get pissed if they came out in a "regular" glass), but I think that had more to do with the college-born notion of getting drunk quickly and cheaply.

Thankfully, with age comes perspective, and I can now enjoy the potent cocktail of tequila, orange liqueur and lime juice in a variety of different drinking chalices. Martini glass, highball, lowball, Dixie cup, Styrofoam, goblet, sippy cup...it's quality over quantity now for me, although Katy may be apt to call my bluff on that one.

This all brings us to last weekend, when for me at least, Margaritas were consumed in bulk, Costco style. On Friday night, we went out to dinner with fellow family bloggers, the Chungs. Jami and John met us at Latino hot spot Nacional 27 for some stiff drinks and a spread of food that would intimidate even Horacio Sanz. (Horacio Sanz? Really?)

The drinks were great. My margarita was Topolobampo-esque (my favorite margarita, nay meal, ever). The girls opted for Mojitos and caipirinhas and John drank a beer that was much to dark for my effeminate stomach and then switched over to a Margarita. A wise choice Chung.

We got the Dinner for 4, and as can be expected some of the dishes were better than others. Good, perhaps great items included the chips, mashed potatoes, BBQ shrimp, smoked chicken empanadas, and the incredibly tender beef tenderloin medallions. 3 of us really liked the suckling pig, but this did not earn Mr. Chung's vaunted seal of approval. Take a pass on the gazpacho shooters, meh salads, seafood paella (try as I might, I don't think I've ever had great paella) and the desserts. Also, I think we all secretly wished that some salsa dancing (which is one of this place's M.O.) would spontaneously break out if for no other reason than we all would have really enjoyed seeing the lady with the poofy 80's hair bust a move like she was auditioning for Footloose.

It was a great night. We discussed babies (seriously, go the Chung's blog and look at the twins), bachelor parties, baseball, and the Asian on Asian hate crime that our waitress was perpetrating on John for no good reason. We thank the Chungs for hiring a sitter and entertaining us with their expletive-laced stories. Courtesy of a gift certificate, our bill ended up being more than reasonable, causing me to exclaim, "I don't care who you are or where you're from, that's just a good deal. Don't even try to fight it."

The next day Katy and I had a big day, which included buying some new silverware and a juicer. It brought to mind a favorite scene of mine from Old School.

College Student: A big day? Doing what?
Frank: Well, um, actually a pretty nice little Saturday, we're going to go to Home Depot. Yeah, buy some wallpaper, maybe get some flooring, stuff like that. Maybe Bed, Bath, & Beyond, I don't know, I don't know if we'll have enough time.

After our long day of shopping we hit up Blue Agave for some cheap and dirty Mexican food and...wait for it....a Margarita. I'm out of control. I had a Chimichanga. Good Lord. I hadn't consumed one of those fried concoctions in years. And you know what? I'm a better man for it.

We headed home (gotta unpack the new silverware!) and for a nightcap I busted out this low carb Margarita mix that I had bought. I've been doing low carb for Lent, though you'd never know it by all these food posts. I let myself cheat for one day (last weekend it was two) per week. The mix was pretty nasty, but considering all the carbs and calories it saves, I suppose it will have to do. After all, a man is nothing without a good Margarita. Actually, that's probably not a phrase that our fathers or our father's fathers would ever dare utter, but then again, they probably never went to Topolobampo.

John, Jami, Katy Coral and Ben-jammin'. The waitress took our picture with one hand and flicked off John with the other.

I'm gonna be brutally honest with you. I'm not quite sure what all of this was. Some sort of appetizer sampler. I think you've got some BBQ shrimp on there, some empanadas and then some fried balls of fun. After a few high-end margaritas you stop asking questions.

Movie Trailer Friday

For your viewing pleasure, Carmella the Cat has handpicked two of the most buzzed about movies here at HHH. She forgot her username and password, so I'm posting them for her. Throw on an adult diaper and settle in with a bowl of burnt microwave popcorn and a glass of warm Fanta and enjoy.


The Hangover: The new comedy from the director of Old School. Vegas, bachelor party, HHH poster boy Zach Galifianakis, Andy Bernard from The Office, Mike Tyson, doorstep babies, missing teeth and Bengal tigers. I'll take "uproarious" for $1000 Alex.

In theatres: June 5th

Heat Index: Face melting

Click here to watch the trailer. I'm both too lazy and too technologically inept to try to figure out how to embed the video directly to the site.


500 Days of Summer: The hipster cred on this one is off the charts. Indie soundtrack? Check. Zooey Deschanel? Check. Sundance fave? Check. An all growds up Joseph Gordon Levitt? Um..check? It's Garden State for the Twitter generation!

In theatres: July 17th

Heat Index: Uncomfortably hot, so much so that you should reapply some more deodorant, just in case.

Carmella implores you to click here to watch the trailer.

*While waiting patiently for these two movies, I advise you to check out Adventureland, in theatres now. It's not so much Superbad as it is Dazed and Confused meets Say Anything. Good stuff Maynard.