Chicken on a beer can? You bet! When Steven Raichlen, America's barbecue guru, say's it's the best grilled chicken he's ever tasted, cooks stop and listen. The perfect gift and an essential addition to every grill jockey's library, Beer Can Chicken presents 75 must-try beer-can variations and other offbeat recipes for the grill, each with one criterion--it's got to have a Wow! factor. Wow! means Saigon Chicken with Lacquered Skin and Spicy Peanut Sauce. Root Beer Game Hens. Beer-Can Turkey. Wow! means Stoned Chicken (it's cooked under a brick), Dirty Steak, Fish on a Board (Salmon with Brown Sugar Glaze), Mussels Eclade--grilled under pine needles. Wow! means Potatoes Roasted in the Embers, Grilled Eggs, Wacky Ramaki, Rotisseried Garlic Rolls--even Grilled Yellow Pepper Soup. Whether on a can, on a stick, under a brick, in a leaf, on a plank, or in the embers, each grilling technique is explained in easy-to-follow steps, with recipes that guarantee no matter how crazy the technique, the results are always outstanding. So pop a cold one and have fun.
In the 1970’s I was a teen-ager growing up in a small town in the mid-west. Though video game systems for the home had just come out, they always seemed to pale in comparison to the kind of games that were available in the local arcades that were springing up at that time. I don’t remember what our first home game system was called, but it basically had three different versions of pong. Don’t ask me why, but the pong where we each had two paddles was called “Hockey”. Go figure. The only other thing I remember about the system was that it came with a big red pistol with which we were to shoot the frantic bouncing pong square as it ghosted across the screen. Looking back, it seems crazy that we were so fascinated by the movement of those simple white squares. But there began the hunger for a weekly trip to the quarter consuming video game arcade.
Actually, the predecessor to the arcade was probably the local pizza joint or gas station. In those days, the owner would invest in only one game, usually Pac Man or Asteroids, and then tuck it away in some dark corner of the store in hopes of generating a little supplemental income. There you were sure to find a gaggle of spastic adolescent boys in hooded sweatshirts with fingers flying in the flickering light of the newest release from Bally. I hate to think of how much money I spent wasting away the hours jockeying that joystick at our local 7-11, the left hand wielding the big red ball and the right franticly pounding the dirty white button. But the sticky soda pop soaked floors of the gas station soon gave way to a slew of locally owned and operated video arcades.
I’ll never forget when they opened the first “Play Land Arcade” in my hometown. Looking back, it was little more than an abandoned laundry mat that someone had gutted so they could make room for a dozen or so games and line them up against the back wall. We didn’t care that the drop ceiling was covered in water stains and that only half of the fluorescent lights worked. And though the owner was a scary beer swilling troll who spent his day watching a little black and white TV in the closet he called his office, every Saturday we would somehow find our way to what we fondly esteemed as a veritable Mecca of entertainment. As long as none of our quarters got stuck in the machine and the bill changer was working, we would try desperately not to disturb the surly oaf. But if his skills were required, only then would we be left with no choice but to hasten the beast from its lair. As he knelt down to open the little door that revealed the magical compartment holding all the change, we would do our best to avoid gazing upon the part of his anatomy that would be revealed as, like clockwork, his tool belt would prove too much weight for his dirty jeans. Some images are just too vivid to suppress.
Nonetheless, titles like Galaga, Donkey Kong, and Centipede will always hold a special place in my memory. Not because they were great video games, but because they represent a simpler time of life. Though I’m fairly confident most gamers would contend that modern video arcades have drastically improved the public gaming experience, I will have to respectfully disagree. In short, we’ve been visually over stimulated and thus no longer appreciate the value of a good ol’ 2D game requiring only basic hand eye coordination and a little imagination. Besides, who needs tickets, tokens, and a boat load of cheap junk in a glass showcase? Give me a monochrome monolith like the ones in the old arcades any day. If you’re trying to find a good list ofvideo arcades, visit www.arcadepages.info/
