I Got Fed By Rachael Ray
Yesterday brought one of SXSWís most anticipated (and oddest) day parties: Rachael Rayís. Apparently, the celebrity chef/media mogul is a serious indie music lover, but I still have a hard time believing that the soccer mom-like talk show host has an iPod filled with Holy Fuck. Nonetheless, hers was one of the best parties I attended this week. Free mojitos loosened up the crowd, while Elfren Ramirez (Napoleon Dynamiteís Pedro) proven himself a better DJ than actor, spinning a crowd-pleasing mix of new electro and í80s pop. I wish more DJs would include Echo and the Bunnymenís ďThe CutterĒ in their rotation.
Ray catered the event with an Austin-appropriate menu, and her food was exactly like youíd imagine: gross and fatty. Hereís the complete menu:
ē 7-layer Sliders (they were laced with joyless, slightly off-tasting guacamole)
ē Bourbon Orange Skillet BBQ Chicken w/ Cornbread Topper (a deep-fried whooper would have been less oily than this slop)
ē Austin Mac íní Cheese Suizas (tasty, albeit a bit congealed)
ē Baby Back Pork Ribs w/ Apricot Jelly BBQ Glaze (Having learned from the chicken, I took a pass on these)
And the music? Well, this wasnít party wasnít really about the music. The Raveonettes shared one of their nine SXSW sets; The Stills threw down some passable post-punk, and Rayís husbandís band, The Cringe, made audiences do just that. The Cringe werenít terrible per se, but their straight-faced classic-rock felt out of place on such a consciously hip line-up (an appearance from ZZ Topís Billy Gibbons only made them stick out that much further).
Rayís hubby, John Cusimano, is a little fella. Dressed down in a T-shirt and eight-oíclock shadow, he looked sort of like a haggard Jason Schwartzman (he also channeled Jason Batemanís sad Juno character).
At least he didnít try to deny the obvious nepotism behind his appearance. ďYou all know my wife,Ē he said. ďThis is a song I wrote about her,Ē he continued.
ďItís called ĎBurn,í but itís not about her cooking. Itís about a different kind of burn, if you know what I mean.Ē
I really didnít.