Blue Moon What?

A record heat wave made me wonder if fracking created a man-made entrance to hell. Scavenging the terrain for some relief in attempt to prevent another heat stroke circa summer 2010, I did my best to stay hydrated. For craft beer enthusiasts, look no further than your local Trader Joe's, home of the infamous '"two buck Chuck." With subtle hints of citrus, banana, bubble gum, and clove, this Bavarian Hefeweizen is perfect for cooling off on a hot summer day. It's on my top 10 craft beer list. And what's even better, it's only $5.99.

Beats, Rhymes, and Life: The Travels of a Tribe Called Quest

DISCLAIMER: THIS POST IS NOT A THOROUGH REVIEW OF THE FILM BECAUSE I HOPE THAT YOU ALL VENTURE OUT TO SEE IT AND FORM YOUR OWN OPINION.

Sunday evening was the first time, in awhile, that I had a chance to just sit back and relax. My exam to determine if I mastered the art of performing human voodoo (trigger point dry needling) was complete, it was still Hades hot outside, and the documentary about the group from which my blog was inspired opened this weekend. With an extra shot caramel latte (nope, not from Fourbucks) and Swedish fish in tow, I settled into my seat at E Street Cinema to check out “Beats, Rhymes, and Life: The Travels of a Tribe Called Quest (BRL)” directed by Michael Rapaport better known as Remy from Higher Learning.

In short, I thought the documentary was fantastic. Blessed with talent, two members with relentless work ethic, an infatuation with music, and being in the right place to capitalize on opportunity, A Tribe Called Quest was born. Nodding my head to film’s score, the audience has a bird’s eye view into the intricacies of the legendary hip hop trio/quartet. Q-Tip, Phife Dawg, Ali Shaheed Muhammad, and Jarobi recount their perspective of the rise and fall of the group. Their instinctive travels and the paths of rhythm through the low end theory served as a catalyst to becoming a melodic fraternity comprised of the good, bad, and ugly. We also witness the self-proclaimed “Funky Diabetic’s” personal battle with the juvenile form of the disease and his addiction to high fructose corn syrup. BRL provides an emotional rollercoaster of love, hate, camaraderie, solitude, bitterness, jealousy, and loyalty. Unless you were a true hip-hip head, most people thought that Ali Shaheed Muhammad was the brainchild behind most of ATCQ's beats. In reality, it was Q-Tip’s realization that the sum was greater the parts that deceived mainstream. Having three brothers and eight line brothers, I firmly understand this concept.

I was first exposed to hip-hop from my cousin and older brothers. When I would visit my grandparents’ house, my cousin would always play tapes in his boom box. On the drive home, I’d ask my dad if he would buy me a tape. But, he refused based on the subject matter of the songs. So I did what any determined kid would do, I stole Breaking Atoms by Main Source from my cousin. To give you a bit of hip hop history, this album was the official introduction of Nasir Jones to the world. I listened to that album on my Walkman until I memorized every word and had to rewind the cassette with a pencil. As a kid who did well in school, the Large Professor’s (who has a cameo in BRL) lyrics in “Watch Roger Do His Thing” spoke directly to me. Over the years, groups that went against grain like A Tribe Called Quest inspired me to continue to do the same thing. In addition, my dad lightened his grasp a bit. Our agreement was that I had to listen to my tapes with him once. Sounds easy, right? Well, try listening to Big Daddy Kane’s “Pimpin’ Ain’t Easy” on the ride to your biddy league basketball game with your father and uncle in the car. They analyzed that song like they were working for the FCC. As a connoisseur of good music, the suffering was worth it because "my days of payin' dues are over, acknowledge we is in there!"

The Score

Bonita Applebum


Check The Rhime



We Got The Jazz/Buggin' Out



Electric Relaxation





Lyrics To Go

Wild Alaskan Salmon with Mango Salsa, Whole Grain Rice, and Squash

This is the meal I prepared for my dad on Father's Day







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Happy Father's Day

Father’s Day often comes and goes without the same applause that Mother’s Day receives. I do not know if Hallmark is to blame or the fact that fathers do not sell themselves as well as their counterparts. Either way, I am the man I am today because of the man whose name I bear.

Growing up, I had the luxury of being with my father daily. He was usually out of the house before I left for school. He elected to do this so he could be home before I returned from school. On my walk home from the bus stop, I would always see him peering through the window. For many years, I took this for granted because I could not go off and play after school. He saw my first fight from that very same window. And although I was the victor to my neighborhood friends, I became the victim as soon as I entered my house. I did not start the fight but my father made me apologize to my childhood friend. From this experience, I learned that you will go through trials and tribulations with the people closest to you. But don’t let those issues destroy meaningful relationships.

Back to the next lesson…I had to finish my schoolwork before I could go outside and play. Easy, right? Not quite. My dad would check my homework and make me rewrite everything when I made a mistake. My father did not like eraser marks. A product of parochial schooling, neatness was paramount. There are no shortcuts in life. Well, maybe there are but you know what they say about luck. If you give it your all every time, you will be ready when those opportunities present themselves. Like Jay said, "kitchen table, that’s where i honed my skills." It was at that table that I spent countless hours perfecting my penmanship, solving the same math problems three different ways, and doing whatever else was necessary to succeed in the classroom. An education is something that no one can ever take from you. Because of my father’s (and mother’s) persistence, I learned how to study like a machine. With this skill, I have been able to have some academic and professional success.

Whether he rushed from Sunday service or work, I would always see my dad in the stands. And when I didn't see him, I would always hear him yelling at the refs. Over the years, he wore many hats that included coach, fan, cheerleader, trainer, and booster. He stopped shopping at Boyd’s so we would look fly. Instead of hanging out with his friends, he would take us to Sixers, Phillies, and Eagles games. Although I can never repay him, I try to take him to games when I get the opportunity to relive those memories. Recently, I met the man who last brought a NBA championship to Philadelphia, Dr. J. And I shared that with him.

Until I left my parent's house for college, I would go to church with them on Sundays. During those services, my recently deceased pastor would talk about having faith the size of a mustard seed. From those homilies, I researched the meaning of faith according to the Bible. And it developed from God carrying out the actions that he said he would perform. In the Old Testament, people did not just blindly believe (DISCLAIMER: it's just my interpretation). Typically, my dad is a man of few words but he was never deficient when it came to actions. I never wondered if he would be there. I knew that I could rely on him whether I was soaring or falling.

I thank you dad for sacrificing trips with your friends so we could see places outside of our hometown. I thank you for saying no to your friends in favor of games of horse with me. I thank you for sharing your mishaps with me so I do not make the same mistakes. I thank you for the telling me the history of our family. I thank you for teaching me to be a man of my word. I thank you for providing us with things that you were not able to experience as a kid. I thank you for showing us how important family is. I thank you for the words of wisdom that you have given me over the years. I thank you for allowing me to create my own destiny. Most importantly, I simply thank you for being there.

Café Estelle Omelette Remixed

Café Estelle Omelette Remixed

They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Well a few years ago, I started going out to eat and recreating the same recipes at home. Over time, I could discern which spices and herbs were in various dishes. Once that became easy, I started remixing my favorite dishes circa Throwdown with Bobby Flay.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been able to enjoy some decadent grub at Marcus Samuelsson’s Red Rooster, the Brooklyn hipster hangout,The Farm on Adderley, and the Philadelphia hole in the wall with gourmet pubfare, Good Dog Bar and Restaurant. I should write proper reviews of every establishment but take my word that they are all officially Beets, Rhymes, and Life (BRL) certified.

Awhile back, I also posted my first restaurant review and I decided to make my version of the Café Estelle Omelette. A lover of vegetables, I sauteed jalapeños, mushrooms, black peppered turkey bacon with black truffle oil and my special concoction of herbs and spices.

Then, I added the egg batter, spinach, apple butter, and goat cheese. To complete my interpretation, I topped the omelette with a little sriracha.

The sweetness from the apple butter blended well with the spiciness of jalapeño and sriracha. The goat cheese was cool, creamy, yet subtle enough to tone down the heat from the peppers. I’ve had a love affair with truffle oil and put it on every vegetable to add a bit of earthiness. All in all, I think my remixed omelette was better than the original.

The Score

Eat to Live – Talib Kweli

Drinks on Me

I have been extremely busy living life. As a result, I have not been able to post anything for a minute. I have two partially completed entries that I will post soon. So to pass time, I decided to share a poem that I wrote more than a decade ago. Enjoy!!
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Drinks on Me

dim lights, loud music, the smell of cigars in the air
i blend in like the elements of the atmosphere
in the clouds of darkness, suddenly the sun appears
as she walks by, all around her ceases
naturally, I stop, I stare
college student caught in the midst of washington, dc
dont worry because tonight the drinks on me
conversation flows like the rain outside
as i sip on her intellect, my mental opens wide
off the aroma her soul manifests
the satisfaction of my indulgence results in my desire to rest
not fatigue, more so the rest of my life
not wifey, but truly a potential wife
my blood continually rises to the highest elevation
every moment that elapses is a precursor to creation
the rebirth of life in the present
caught by the rapture of her essence
glass half full or half empty?
dont worry ‘cause the next drinks on me
as the end of the night draws closer
i set my glass down on the wooden coaster
grabbed her hand and whispered in her ear
"wherever you want to go, i'll take you there
when you are afraid, i will protect you from your fears
when you seek comfort, i will be there
when you look around the corner, i will be near
for the man of your dreams has magically appeared."
as we approached her final destination, i said goodnight respectfully
anything else, the drinks on me, literally

Happy Mother's Day

As I head back to the District from my parent’s house, it’s ironic that I first parted ways with my mother on a Sunday evening over 30 plus years ago. Over the years, I drifted a bit but always knew I could return home to a place void of the wicked ways of the world. “People never get the flowers while they can still smell them." So, I pay homage to my mother.

On this day, I want to thank her for all that she sacrificed. Although I grew up in a different world, she made sure we knew the origin of our family firsthand. No matter how much I achieve, I will never forget where we come from. I thank her for showing me that there is a world that exists beyond the borders of our small town. I thank her for forcing me to participate in the cotillion and other activities that were outside of my comfort zone. Although I still have two left feet, it is because of her that “I can walk with kings and queens yet not lose the common touch.” Although it is a rarity that I attend service now (will save that conversation for another day), I thank her for raising me in a church. It provided positive reinforcement for all of her lessons on ethics and morality.

She loved and nurtured us but also instilled a level of fear that kept us from straying too far off the beaten path. She pushed me from her womb down snow-capped mountains. When I fell, she always pulled me up to mend my wounds. And when I was afraid to risk failing again, she pushed me. I’ll never be able to repay my debt but I hope that she knows how much I think of her in all that I do. Thank you, mom!!