To the woman blocking my reach at the mini-mart...

Who cares if it's a whole grain pretzel? It's a bag of fucking Combos!

Selling food for money...the sequel!

Madame Crispy's Ethno-Food Bucket is back, Saturday, Dec. 11th!. As previously mentioned, my boyfriend's house plays host to a number of punk, hardcore and "other" bands that attract the young 'uns and old dudes alike. It's a captive audience and I want to feed them in exchange for money. Our first attempt went surprisingly well. Now, we have learned from our mistakes (frying tortilla chips to order on an electric stove DOES NOT WORK!) and our successes (drunk people order a lot of food AND if you put out a Halloween pumpkin with a few bucks in it at a show, other people will just put money in it). The cooking process has been streamlined and costs cut. We realized the two most important factors of our previous success- it was cheap, and at the end of the night, drunks want what we have started calling "shovelin' food" Just something hot and zesty they can spoon into their mostly vegetarian food slots.

The menu will be as follows, keeping in mind there is a large vegan/veg crowd at this event.
*Fried Rice: It was a hit last time. We're going with peas, peppers, onion, and egg (optional), sauteed in a bit of sesame oil with rice and soy sauce. We're skipping the ground beef for cost and because most people passed on it last time
*Breakfast tacos: Two for $3. One scrambled egg per taco, with shredded cheddar and choice of salsa, sriracha, or HOT Korean bean paste. Ian will be making vegan "eggs" using tofu and magic.
*Vegetable Curry with Rice: Potato, zucchini, spinach, onion and cauliflower simmered in curry, spooned over some rice. Three bucks.
*Country Potatoes for Drunks and Fatties: Red potatoes, kinda smushed and pan fried with onions and a whole lotta pepper. Smother with ranch, cheese and Bacos. Yes, Bacos.

In addition to the limitations of cost, we are working on an electric stove, so we're trying to have foods that can cook or be heated up very quickly as most of the time is spent trying to get the pan hot enough. I am told that it will most likely be snowing by this time (I'm having a hard time accepting it...mind blown) and between the food smells, alcohol, and people having to hang out inside the house, we should be very busy. If anyone knows of more cheap, easy to cook (quickly, on the spot) foods, let me know!

Cemitas Update

The sandwiches discussed earlier, while delicious, were an abomination. About a month ago, we had real Cemitas, and they are not "Mexican Sloppy Joes." Our homemade sandwiches (which I still stand by in terms of tastiness) were given the erroneous appellation of Cemita. I have been meaning to correct this for a while. Please check out the video from the Food Network HERE (starring the man-child Guy Fieri, who looks like a walking stereotype mash-up of cokehead/morning zoo radio host) And then check out the website for Cemitas Puebla.
In addition to the amazing food (I'm going for the Cemita Atomica next time!) I had a "melon water" and it was pretty much a huge cup of crushed cantaloupe juice with frozen melon bits for ice.

However, once we get our nomenclature straightened out, we will continue to pump out bastardized Mexican food from the home kitchen.

Amongst all this talk of elaborate and elusive sandwiches, I encourage everyone to go back to the basics. I did, though my simple sandwich was exceptional in size. Get a nice piece of baguette, one thin-sliced meat, a cheese, and the holy trinity of sandwich toppings- lettuce, tomato and onion. You are allowed ONE fancy ingredient, like avocado, or in my case, pesto mayo. Enjoy with plain chips or a pickle. K.I.S.S!

Dear Old Love...

While I'm sure your bread has changed since the last time we met, old friend, you are as beautiful and smoky as ever. I ate your pickles and onions because as an older, wiser woman, I have come to love you for all that you are. Even your questionable meat content and the fact that I feel kinda sweaty twenty minutes after our saucy rendezvous. Have you been working out? Your patty seems more slender than I recall, though your flavor remains true. I forgive you for leaving me- I was young and you simply wished for me to experience other sandwiches out in the world, whether they be chicken, deli, burger, or other. Thank you, my love, but please, don't leave me again. I'd rather you break my heart through medical consequences such as diabetes or arteriosclerosis than have it suffer through another prolonged absence.

Love always,
Mel S.

FOUND! Fancyass Sonoran Dog

I am neither hip nor with it. Big Star is. (Click for a better photo!!). They recently updated their menu to include a SONORAN HOT DOG!!!!! Of course, this ain't your average Tucson gas station parking lot dog, and that kinda made me misty, but it was still some delightfully chewy nostalgia. The big diff was that the hot dog was a girthy, beefy piece of meat and the bread was a bolillo. It was nearly impossible to eat with my hands (but I did it anyway, after the bartender suggested cutting it in half). All in all, I'll probably have another one in the near future, but my favorite part of Big Star is still the walk-up window where I spend all my tip money on their out of this world pork belly tacos. Free lollipop!

And for the record, my favorite, non-south side sonoran dogs are tied with the one on 6th street and Park (across from U of A Liquors) and BD's, which sets up in the parking lot of Antigone's on Fourth.

Update: Success!

The food-selling went much better than expected, raking in over twice our modestly projected amount. Definitely enough to buy a new set of bike tires (I posted a sign on a cabinet "Some dickhead/s stole my shit!" which proved to be effective in relaying the cause).

After about twenty seconds of brainstorming, we came up with a sign reading "Madam Crispy's Ethno-Food Bucket: Cheap food for you filthy whore mouths." I am Madam Crispy, and will henceforth be addressed as such. The menu was low-cost and went splitsies between Korean and Mexican fare. Every item was two bucks (a focus group comprised of my boyfriend's room/bandmates pushed for a dollar menu, saying three bucks was too many bucks. Behold the art of compromise).

The menu specs are as follows:
*Korean mandu- dumplings filled with glass noodles, tofu, carrot, green onion, spicy chorizo (optional for vegetarians), and seasoned with garlic, ginger, s&p, and sesame oil. Pan fried to order with choice of wasabi mustard or spicy bean paste dippin' sauce.
*Fried rice- Red and green bell pepper, peas, carrots, onion, (beef and egg optional), all sauteed in a wok (!) to order with rice and soy sauce.
*Chips and Guac- make a pico with tomato, red onion, red bell pepper, jalapeno, serrano, cilantro and smush it around with lime and avocado. I made the tortilla chips (that is, I fried the soft tortillas from the store) and it's seriously THE ONLY WAY YOU SHOULD BE EATING TORTILLA CHIPS!!!! Also, save your fryin' oil. Thank me later.
*Pineapple enchiladas- Big ups to m'lady Kara for the recipe. A can of pineapple, two cans of black beans, cilantro, a whole red onion, sour cream, and cheese. Roll it up and smother in enchilada sauce and cheese (we used Chihuahua cheese for the filling and sharp cheddar for the topping) Bake at 350 for...um...whenever you think it's melty and hot.

And that's all, folks. I wish I had some pictures, but my man was busy DJ-ing/rocking and I was busy cooking/drinking strangers' whiskey. Thank you, strangers!

Brainstorm ACTIVATE!

Hey guys. This Friday my man and I will be making a second attempt at unlicensed food vending. This time it will be inside a house and not on the street! It will be during a hardcore show (think patchy denim jackets, not the skate shoes and emo hair kind!) Menu items will be prepped beforehand and cooked to order. They so far include- spicy chorizo and vegetarian Korean-style dumplings, fried rice, fresh chips and homemade guac, pineapple enchilada casserole. Any ideas on some other foods that can be cooked fast and made cheaply? There is one burner left open on the stove, and no deep fryer.

Also, what should we call ourselves? We kinda want to make this a thing, ya know?

Cemitas, Chilaquiles and Fart Cakes

I have finally met a man whose appetite for Mexican food rivals even my own. We've been doing a lot of cooking at home. (A, like, totally trippy plate of stuffed mushroom cap, polenta and leeks happened, as well as some seriously heavy pasta alfredo and bake-at-home pizzas to which we add an immodest amount of pizzazz). As for Mexican cookery, well, there are no highlights- It's all solid gold in my book. Nacho-mageddon was just the beginning.

(edit Note from the future- this is extremely inaccurate) We made Cemitas, or for those of you uncomfortable with foreign words, "Mexican sloppy Joes." Chihuahua cheese melted on the bottom bun to prevent sogginess, then meat (fake meat if you're into that), chipotles, lettuce and avocado. Top bun. Seasoning the meat was where I screwed it up. The chipotles came in an adobo sauce that I thought would be good to simmer the steak in. Turned out face-meltingly spicy, but nonetheless genital-tingling tasty. Food photography is not my strong point, but please enjoy the shiny sleaze of the pictures provided.

I don't know what took me so long to try chilaquiles. We didn't make them in the traditional way (soak the chips in salsa until they get soft) because I like crunchy foods. Are you buying bagged tortilla chips? ARE YOU?!? Make your own, because they are amazing and only take about a minute to fry. (Pro tip- take 'em out of the oil when you feel them getting hard but are still pale to prevent overcooking!) Okay, make your beans and rice, and shred some iceberg lettuce. If you're feeling fancy, maybe some tomato, onion, and guac. This is your healthy garnish. While the tortillas are cooling on paper towels, scramble some eggs, and smother them in red or green salsa and a sprinkling of cilantro, green chilies and cheese. Toss or layer them with your chips and POW! Put them in your mouth.

And finally, the only thing better than coming home after work to a clean kitchen is coming home after work to a clean kitchen AND and a Funfetti cake that says FART.

A Whole Lotta Nacho

Human head and dollar bill shown for scale.

Stabby’s Corner with Erica S. Vol. II.

This lunch actually happened a few weeks ago, but I forgot to post this entry. Woops.

The Boundary is more than an important landmark in a great fantasy novel whose name I can’t remember....

Melanie and I went out to lunch today! She was very happy. I was not. But not because of the looming one hour with the sister. Rather, work has made my feet a constant reminder of how much it sucks to stand for hours straight, and walking almost two miles in flip flops in 90 degree heat with 60% humidity right before lunch does not a happy Erica make.

That aside, we went to lunch. Melanie took me to some place called “The Boundary.” For a sports bar, it was nice. Big, commercial looking bar and lots of flat screen TVs. Score one for The Boundary? AIR CONDITIONING. And lots of it.

Our server walked up in an inappropriate sundress that showed off her weird, long boobs. I couldn’t help but stare. Neither could you, so don’t even think a judgmental thought.

Melanie and I place our order for two sodas, a buffalo chicken wrap, and fish tacos (I can’t even think the words ‘fish tacos’ without thinking of Pineapple Express. Melanie didn’t get the reference). I’m not really here to comment about the food. That’s more Melanie’s arena. But let’s just say we were 1 ramekin of blue cheese dressing shy, and about three pounds of melted cheese on my tortillas heavy. But we ate it, and mostly enjoyed.

Moving on to what I do best…

Let’s examine server Long Boobs. We saw her exactly four times. Let’s make a list! I like to be organized.

1. After watching her chill at the bar, chatting with the cute bartender and drinking her soda, she ambled over to our table where she didn’t really greet us. We ordered.
2. Sodas.
3. Our food was taking a bit longer than usual, so she told us it would be out in just a minute.
4. As we were walking out the door, she said goodbye.

Now, hopefully, since most of you aren’t idiots, you noticed that most of the basic sequence of service is missing.

Not there to refill soda. Not there to see if we had everything (we didn’t). Not there to drop the check. Not there to run the card and bring it back.

I could make another tasteless joke about how she was so slow because she was tripping over her weirdly long and saggy boobs, but I won’t (didn’t I just…?) Instead, I’ll just say what I always say that 85% of the time gets me an eye roll.

“How hard is it to give good service? Answer: Not that hard!” I stand firmly by this statement, and will test my punching strength if anyone wants to argue. Be warned: I owned a punching bag like 4 years ago. And I used it at least five times in 18 months.

If I were Melanie, I would give this place 2.5 out of 5 sides of ranch that cost 50 cents for food, and 1 out of 5 strained sundress straps for service. But since I’m not Melanie, I’ll just say that I’d only go back there if I was drunk on Division and wanted a beer from their attractively niched beer taps.

And before you ask, no, I didn’t stab her. Or anyone.

"Don't call it a fucking shit steak!"

Sorry, Mom. It was a pretty bad piece of meat. I will no longer be purchasing my steaks at the generic grocer.

Huh? Oh, wow!

Pollito Alvbro. It's a Mexican candy shaped like a whole roasted chicken, but tastes like....I have no idea. The chili flakes make it rough on the tongue, but it's worth it. It tastes like food. That is the best description I can give you. Something you have to try to believe, and you will believe. I got mine free when I ordered from the pick-up window at Big Star ("Aqui vendemos...SABOR!") and I'm hooked. Good thing I have a drawer full of 'em!

A bunch of stuff

(left) Mussels at Hot Chocolate. Went there on a date and it was hot, loud, and still hot. Food was good- He had the burger (well seasoned meat, tasty bun, cheese had bite) and I had the duck on a cauliflower polenta rectangle thingie.










At right, blue crab stuffed lobster at Shaw's Crab House. I Started with oysters Rockefeller, sipped on a Cucumber Mule, picked that lobster clean, and polished it off with a creme brulee. Fifty percent off the whole check, losers!
Also, I ate the tomalley, and it was smooth, creamy, and not gross.


And this is punk rock Bibimbop. Skirt steak, Korean-marinated cold veggies over rice, topped with a fried egg. I was a few whiskeys in, so yeah, it hit the spot. There is a cafe next to and associated with The Empty Bottle that serves a variety of tasties. Feel free to google the name on your own- I'm sleepy and oddly hungry.

Province

It all started when my sister wanted me to stay and sit in on her last class in law school. (I doodled to look busy!) Sensing that- for once- she wanted me to stay and I waned to go, naturally, I exploited the opportunity to score some free dinner. It kinda worked! The twenty dollar budget she gave me was surprisingly generous, although simply paying for the dinner would have been the true mark of a gentle(wo)man.

We went to Province. It is a concept (being "green" and all up in your face about it) restaurant, with the decor falling somewhere between A Bug's Life and minimalist, pseudo-zen simplicity. Located in the West Loop, the clientele was mostly older (but not elderly) folks, and the over-tanned sluts- who dress like life is one big bachelorette party- that could be their progeny.

Our waitress was very nice, and I liked her. However, she seemed to abide by the magicians' code of "Always leave them wanting more," because we saw her maybe three times over the course of our two hours there.

Bitching aside, the food was very good. I'll leave it up to Erica "Stabby" S. to spiel about her issues with the service and why she hates vegetables. The menu at Provice is arranged by size: small bites, like oysters, come first; then appetizers, small plates, big plates, and bigger (normal entree size) plates. We each got an appetizer and a big/er plate.

Pictured above is the appetizer Erica got- It is salt, seasoned with flatbread, arugula, something simply called "cheese," and a slow-poached egg. I got Summer Corn Chowder with Crab and some other stuff. It had a slightly spicy zing to it that I enjoyed, but the obvious enthusiasm the chef has for corn overpowered the crab. If it wasn't for the texture across my tongue, I would never had guessed the crab was there at all.

The entrees were very good. Again, I leave it to Erica to explain her over-seared ahi and vegeable drama. I got the Ten Hour BBQ'd Lamb. The menu said it comes with roasted eggplant, chorizo, and cornbread. The size of the dish was more than adequate (you never know what you're gonna get with these concept places) and had two hunks of tender, fat-like-butta lamb, each the size of those superfluous baby shoes people buy for their infants even though they're too young to walk. The meat was luxurious and moist, like Cinemax soft-core in my mouth, and I didn't have to use my knife even once during the meal. My only gripe? The plate looked like a bowl of turdy dog food. The vegetable, chorizo and cornbread (more of a meal than bread) were smushed into one lumpy brown mess resembling something more like coffee grounds and breakfast vomit than the tasty accompaniment it actually was. But hey, if I was so concerned with appearances, I'd stop dressing like I just had a baby and hop on a treadmill. Entree was a win.

For our comped dessert, Erica got a lonely scoop of cinnamon ice cream and I (being way more fun than her) got the peanut butter and chocloate flan "sandwich." The flan was from the firm school of pudding-making, but I guess it was necessary in order to support the crispy, cookies 'n cream square between the two flavors, as well as the scoop of chocolate sorbet on top. Another win.

Overall, the food was awesome but the service sucked. Powerful sucked. I wish we could have tipped the busser/expo guy instead. 6.7 smugly bragging seasonal locavores in backless dresses out of 9.

Hooray!

I have a ton of veggies in the fridge, and dammit! I'm gonna eat them! Carrots, mushrooms, broccoli, cauliflower, onion, fresh garlic. Oh, and pork. Sweet, sweet pork....

Off-Brand Foods

Your creativity makes up for the slightly metallic taste.

Adulthood

I realized I had become an adult when I started eating my Totino's pizza on a plate, and not off of the box it came in.

FestFest in Chicago

It’s summertime in Chicago and people go apeshit over the warm weather. Restaurant patios are packed with diners who must sit outside (or they’ll wither and die) and the shore of Lake Michigan is lousy with crispy, pork-skin sun tans and tribal sun tats. It’s also festival season.

Much like dry food goods, I prefer a cool, dry environment so I have not participated in most of these events. I accidentally slept through RibFest and I deeply regret it. Every weekend, there are music festivals, art fests, food fests, and I’m willing to bet that somewhere in the country right now, it’s Lobster Fest. It’s always Lobster Fest.

This evening, I went to the Taste of Randolph Street in the West Loop, motivated by the food offerings as well as to give the me-shaped indent in my bed a chance to fluff back up. It was a $10 suggested donation, so I read that as “pay upon approval.” I went with my neighbor, a horticulturalist who has lived in the city for quite some time and knows it well. We decided to walk the length of the festival from the outside to smell the sights and get a better picture of what was being offered. If you guessed roasted corn and Miller Lite in plastic cups, give yourself one point. As we entered, the ticket-taker asked for our ten dollars, whereupon I mentioned the “suggested“ part of “suggested donation.” She cut me off before I could say anything further and snapped, “No, it’s ten dollars.” Then I punched her in the boob and gave her ten bucks. One of those things didn’t actually happen. Minus one point for me. I’d say I’m too nice because I’m from Arizona, but that just doesn’t sound right.

Still sour from the ten-dollar-donation issue, the food prices added insult to injury. I was expecting modestly priced snacks, but the only foods under $5 were chips and guac, a scoop of sorbet (apparently, boring is a flavor), and bottled water. Sigh. We cruised the length of the festival-this time from within- taking note of the small menus at the restaurant booths. My food requirements were simple- meat and mobility. I ended up paying eight bones for a “gyro cone” and it WASN’T A CONE, WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?!? Take a point off, middle-eastern restaurant whose name escapes me. Then add a point for being tasty, but take it off again for giving me the vegetable scoop with only onions and no peppers.

The fair was book ended by two music stages. One was occupied by some fusion-funk-jam band that was, when I was listening, in the throes of an extended dopey trombone solo. The other was hosting the 90’s sensation Superchunk. It was this area that seemed to be where Generation-X got put out to pasture. Baby strollers being pushed by glassy-eyed fathers in Yo La Tengo and Pixies t-shirts. Rockabilly tattoos peeking out from Old Navy khakis.

There were really four kinds of people there- those who came to get drunk on light beer and listen to Superchunk, teenagers drinking backwashed booze from discarded cups, people yelling at their kids, and people showing off their dogs. Now, if I still had my sweet Homer, I would fall into the latter group without question (minus one for me being openly gay for dogs)* because he’s fucking adorable (redeem point). But where are my like-minded homegirls who just want to eat some popcorn shrimp under a shady tree and laugh at the new money Indian dudes with faux-hawks and too much Ed Hardy cologne?

Maybe I’m just not Festival People.

*Figure of speech. Sit down.

Food Memory

I was at the age when children were begging their parents to take them to McDonalds. But where most kids would demand a Happy Meal and some time to tear shit up at their playground, I'd say Fuck that. My six year-old ass wanted a McRib sandwich.

At that time in McRib history, there was some issue over the actual "meat" used in its making. Several people in New York and Long Island had found rat feet and fur in their faux-BBQ delight.

This brings me to one of my earliest food memories- throwing a fit because my mother would cut up the McRib and check for rat parts before she'd let me eat it. The craziest part of this is that due to my young age and only partial understanding of the news, I thought the McRib was rat meat. This in no way bothered me. I assumed the feet and fur just meant you got a bad slice.

Despite my impatience, I guess I should be grateful that ultimately, my mother did let me enjoy my ratmeat sandwich. Even if her dissection had ruined its rib-shaped patty appearance.

What's your weirdest childhood food memory?

Returned to Manny's

And it was amazing, as usual.

Stabby's Corner with Erica S. Vol. I

Welcome to the first edition of Stabby’s Corner with Erica S.!

This entry is a little different from what I envisioned for my corner, but this was an experience worth documenting.

So let’s talk about cakes. This Friday, I have a Rotaract party that some genius made a vegetarian potluck. So…no pigs in a blanket (they’re missing out). I pondered long and hard (ha) on what to bring, and I remembered that I made a cake for the end of my friend’s first year of law school! It was fun(fetti) and delicious, so why not do the same?

Then I watched Food Network Challenge: Toy Story 3 cakes.

Fast forward two hours and I had four cake pans in the oven, corn syrup, four pounds of powdered sugar, Crisco up to the elbows, imitation vanilla (because the clear stuff was nowhere to be found in Jewel, and the real stuff is too expensive, anyway), and a dash of salt….guesses as to what this creates? FONDANT.

Also, please refrain from calling it “fonDANT” in my presence. FONdant.

1) Who are you?

2) Get over yourself.

Fast forward past Melanie’s pastrami sandwich (we get it…you like Manny’s), and the hours it took for me pick out fondant stamps (we’ll not go down this road), and I’m home again, with four chilled cakes to equal two tiers.

I wish I took a picture of the inside (more on why later), but if you care, each tier is one half white cake and one half devil’s food cake. So, those at the party who “only like chocolate” can suck it. It looks cooler this way.

Michael’s has a great cake decoration aisle, where I picked up some icing dye to color my fondant. If you haven’t had the pleasure of working with icing dye, it’s actually a gel that you knead into the fondant. I suppose food coloring is too watery. Too bad I bought some before going to Michael’s…Listen. Chicago is great. But to return the food dye, I have to either walk a mile to the store, or wait for a bus. This place also has a parking lot, rubbing my face in the fact that my almost brand new car is in Tucson.

Whatever.

So, here I go, ripping off a chunk of fondant I made earlier, and coloring it green. Like, green for grass. Get it? Melanie says, “make it more solid!” I say, “…” She says, “You know what I mean. It’s translucent right now. Not like you can see through it, but you know what I mean.” I say, “…” So I make something that is already clearly solid…more solid.

Tossing down a small handful of powdered sugar, I roll out the fondant to approximately 13.5” by 13.5” and…it’s stuck to the table. And again. And again. And again. At this point, maybe 20 minutes after starting, I’m getting red faced and pissed off. So I move into the kitchen and work on the counter top, instead. More powdered sugar, and more failure! I start down a familiar and comfortable path, finding some way to blame my failings on my sister. This makes me feel better. :D

Blah blah blah, about an hour after my first roll out, Melanie and I finally get the fondant on the cake. Hellllllll yeah.

The red was a little easier, because we had a system at this point. I roll, Melanie rolls it onto the roller, and I unroll onto the cake. A sort of bing bam boom thing.

STACKING TIME!!!!!!!! Now, I both forgot to buy wooden or plastic dowels and decided not to get them. Mistake number 1 (…sure). The top tier is too big. Well, shit. I did not anticipate that happening! So, here is the part of the story that explains why the top tier’s fondant cover is so weird looking. I actually cut the cake down on two sides, then patched it up. I’d say I was close to crying by the end of this, but the truth is, I was closer to putting my fist or someone’s face through a wall. The only saving grace is that when I cut into the cake, the two tier’s looked really cool stacked on each other. I’ll take a picture when we finally cut into the cake tomorrow night.

Cakes stacked, my blood pressure dangerously high, I start up with that black band around the bottom of the red tier. Initially, the cakes were supposed to emulate a lady bug on grass. Hence, green on bottom and red on top. But because of the DISASTER that is the top tier, that went out the window.

(I just found a piece of fondant on the hinge of my computer.)

Black dye looks great! But my hands are still tinted a weird color after kneading dye into the fondant. Oh, by the way, somewhere in this part of the story, Melanie offers some advice. It was not received well. Also, I lost a piece off of the tool that cuts strips of fondant. I looked and looked and got really mad and cursed a lot. Seems to be a theme, hmm? Now you understand why this is called, “Stabby’s Corner with Erica S.”

Light bulb moment said to put green leaves on the red, and red leaves on the bottom. Making the leaves was fun, since I bought little punchy things. Although, Melanie said that the leaf in the leaf with the leaf punched out looks like a vagina. I dunno. I think it looks like a leaf.

So, I started this process at about 10am. It was probably 11:30pm. I was exhausted. Eff the red leaves, and on went stems for the fake flowers (like I could make gum paste flowers that look that nice…), a black, grassy border, and DONE!!!!

14 hours after I left my house to buy the cake mix, I was finally finished. And you know what? So was the frosting inside the cake. Sitting out for hours, the frosting had melted, and wasn’t holding the shape it was supposed to. Who cares. Take a picture, smile, and get my ass in bed.

Here’s me and my zombie hand with the finished product.

Shaw's Crab House- Update

So, Stabby McSister works there now. Can we all take a moment and pray she doesn't physically assault the dim-witted 18 year-old hostess/eyecandy (who has made the mistake of talking down to her) before I get my 50% off Sunday brunch? Thanks.

About my sister

She may be mean, but she makes a handsome cake. Not bad for a first attempt at a fondant cake, right? ("mean," that is to say, she ignored all my out-of-this-world cake decorating ideas).

Glenn's Diner

Tuesday is all-you-can-eat king crab day. I had seven of these bad boys, and I feel little to no shame in admitting it. Supposedly, the record for ultimate crab gluttony is 21 legs. Glenn's also has all-you-can-eat nights for ribs and shrimp (garlic or spicy). The crab legs came with a ramekin of butter, lemon, cole slaw and a corn cobette. The corn was a treat- buttered up with Parmesan cheese- but the slaw was way too wet and neither crisp nor refreshing.

As for the legs, they were sweet and rich. I imagine it's hard to mess up a crab leg- just steam it, right? Maybe. I had a partial leg that was, well, odd. I think it was either cooked way too long or was too close to the heat. The meat, or surrounding "fat" (I really don't know what it's called/is, sorry) was a greenish-gray and had an odd flavor that said "Just throw me in the shell bucket and carry on." And so I did. But this was hardly an obstacle and the meal was fantastic. Not only did the crab keep coming at a very acceptable pace, I did not cut my fingers on the spines the whole evening (special applause).

I want to also point out that the service at Glenn's (I have been there twice) is exceptionally friendly and accommodating. They had run out of legs the first time we went and offered to comp our meal (I went with the ribs and was very satisfied). This time around, we made a reservation, and from that phone call to the check-dropping everyone working there had a great sense of humor and there was nothing we needed that wasn't first offered by our server (more soda, butter, legs, sides, etc.) Also, the music was a delight- mostly 70's funk. And don't get me started on their cereal selection. Their regular menu looks fun as well. Definitely worth the half-hour bus ride!

Cheese!!

Two aged Goudas (cow and goat) and a tasty brie. I totally forgot the names because I misplaced my receipt, but two are from Holland and Ireland. My sister and I went to Pastoral and they had a decent selection of cheese, cured meats and wine (also wine and cheese accessories, like crackers and jams). The staff was helpful and attractive, but I might have a bias toward men selling me fine cheeses.

Fun fact- The "crispies" in hard cheese is called "grana" and is a result of the aging process. You're welcome.

More photos from Dim Sum

We ate at the Happy Chef in Chinatown. Our feast included, but was not limited to- crab Rangoon, shrimp and crab spring rolls, pork rice rolls, shrimp shumai, steamed pork buns, crispy noodles, pork in a flaky pastry, "dinosaur eggs", and fried tofu.

The dinosaur eggs were a surprise treat- ground beef and vegetables surrounded by sticky, sweet rice cake (think mochi) then fried so it had a light and crisp outside.

The fried tofu (the photo of golden cubes) is still leaving me wondering. I have had Japanese fried tofu, where it was more like a tempura, and the tofu was still, well, tofu-y inside. This kind was fried all the way through, making them into curious airy bites that collapse inside your mouth. There was a weird aftertaste that I found unpleasant, and makes me think that it had been fermented before it was fried. I will say that the dish smelled amazing- the tofu was tossed in chopped garlic, sliced Asian green pepper and red pepper paste.

Regarding chicken feet...

You never know until you try it, right? Did you know you eat the whole foot, including the bones? I did, but tried it anyway. Forgive me for stating the obvious, but it tasted like slimy chicken skin- not the crispy fried kind- with a very unpleasant, bony surprise. The bones were pliable and spongy and had a gritty chew. The whole time I was chowing down on these feet, my palate and my brain were in a heated discussion over whether this mouth sensation was an accident to be rejected (see: eating fried chicken in the dark) or a new weirdness to be embraced. I ate the foot, but speaking to my mom later- keep in mind she is a real live Asian whom I have seen eat some weird shit over the years- she said, "Eew, even I don't eat that!" Sigh.

I'm gonna have to side with Shoko and Mr. Horse on this one. No rating, due to my Westerner's palate (who knows, it could have been some amazing chicken feet to those who don't consider it bizarre)

FYI- The gray, jelly-like items accompanying the feet are spare ribs. But not the kind enjoyed by you and I, friend.

Manny's

I'm afraid this picture does not do this sandwich justice- it was way bigger. I'll come back and write more specifically later once the meat-itis subsides and I stop groaning. The facts- this is a pastrami Reuben from Manny's. To be more accurate, it's half a Reuben, since I ate the other half without a thought of taking a photo, nor thoughts of anything else, really. The other half-eaten food is a potato latke, with a small cup of applesauce for dipping. The other photo is pie.

Flavor Bang No.3

"Green" Fettuccine Alfredo. Chicken, spinach, broccoli, mushrooms and garlic with Alfredo sauce, served over fettuccine. Yum!

Flavor Bang No.2- The best chicken salad in the world!

When I was studying Korean at DLI in Monterey, the midpoint of the day was usually the highlight. Lunch. There really was no bad way to spend this time. You could eat at the chow hall and chat with friends, nap, catch up on homework, run nearby errands, or simply sit still and try to stop the stress-induced nosebleeds and eye-twitches brought on by studying an Asian language. My schoolhouse was located nearest the "good" gate, just off the 68 to Carmel. Just a stone's throw from the guardhouse was a place called Compagno's Market and Deli. I will resist the urge to gush Gush GUSH about their sandwiches, because I'm here to talk about chicken salad today. (But in the words of 30 Rock's Frank, "SUCH SANDWICHES!") I started out buying their smallest sized chicken salad (because my fat ass will eat more mayo and meat as a side dish to mayo and meat). Within a week, I was lying to the deli guy about "having friends" to hopefully justify buying their chicken salad so often by the quart. DON'T JUDGE ME!

Well, now I live in Chicago, and Compagno's seems like some near-forgotten halcyon dream over a year after leaving the Bay area. There is a market just west of Damen on North called W's Market (or something like that...) where I'll go to buy a late-night emergency pork chop and some tall-boys. As I passed their cold case one evening, I picked up a small dish of chicken salad. I'm impulsive like that. Of course, I dug in right when I got home, and OH MY GOD! Memories of Compagno's and Monterey came screaming back, like only a good cartoon acid trip could describe. I was soaring over mountains of chunky, seasoned chicken, weaving through a forest of green onion, and sailing an ocean of savory mayo on an almond sliver with only celery for an oar, all while red grapes rained down from a smiling sky.

It's that good. 10 perfect reviews out of 10 perfect reviews. (Same recipe for both places).

Hollywood Diner

I need to change the name of this blog to fuckyeahmontecristosandwiches because it's all I'm ever eating for the rest of my life. I was on my way home from a job interview (it went well, thanks) and Hollywood Diner was right in front of where I needed to change buses. I've been really into eating at diners of late, mostly because the waitresses call me nice names, like "dolly" or "sweetheart." Also, because it's like eating at Denny's, without having to lie about having just eaten a a Denny's. (Side note- Did you know that Denny's has a late-night menu that blatantly targets the stoned and inebriated, and that they have live rock music at select locations? Now you do. Get the Superbird).

Anyhoo, I was greeted by a guy who had to be the owner (neither working nor wearing a uniform tee) who pointed me to a booth and shout-asked from behind the counter if I wanted coffee. No thank you, it's hot out. The waitress came to take my order after I repeatedly slammed my menu shut to get her attention. "Ready to order, Dear?" she asked, in perfect grizzled diner waitress elocution, which I found pleasantly in-congruent with her severe chola hair and makeup combo. I ordered the Monte Cristo Deluxe (served with a cup of soup, crinkle fries, micro-cup of coleslaw, and pickle chips).

The soup. I had a choice of cream of chicken and rice, chili, or vegetable. I chose veggie, if you can believe it, and it was amazing. Little pasta rings (think Spaghetti-O's, but bigger), chunks of potato, carrots, corn, green pepper, green chili, and celery in a thick, flavorful tomato soup. Bonus points for shelling out for name-brand crackers. The generic Saltines never get the salt quite right....

Just as I took my last slurp of soup, my sandwich arrived. It was too hot to pick up, so I tried the fries and slaw first. Nothing special there. The crinkle-cut fries were hot and fresh (like my rhymes, guys) but pretty unexceptional. Could have been crispier, and I will say the same for my sandwich. But really, that would be my only complaint.

The sandwich is simple. Thick-sliced ham, melted swiss, grilled betwixt two slices of french toast. Now, I know there are different and much better Monte Cristos out there, but having been a virgin to this sandwich, it was the best I ever had. Thus, I'm afraid any critique would be baseless, though really, my only complaint was that the french toast slices weren't grilled or buttery enough, and were pretty soggy. (I will give them the benefit of the doubt, since I was wearing a Business Suit, and maybe they thought I had somewhere important to be (not so) and decided to expedite the cooking process.) Despite being a true lover of bacon, I always said that ham was too salty for my taste. In this context though, you want a salty ham, with salty swiss, because when you stuff 'em into some sweet, sweet french toast, the contrast is just amazingly pleasurable. I don't think I need to extol the virtues of the sweet/savory dynamic to you, dear friends. Like a good chocolate covered pretzel, spicy mango salsa, or caramel Bugles.
The Monte Cristo Deluxe gets an 8/10 Elvis-style hip-thrusts, plus a bonus wiggle for the great service and the fact that I can walk there if I'm feeling particularly motivated.

Side note- the picture above is my take-home box, so it's not as melty as it was when served. click to see the ham better!

Flavor Bang No.1

Sometimes when you're making an unexceptional lunch on a regular day, the stars just align and you end up with an amazing meal. Case in point- stir fry.

Here's what I did- made rice in a pot (salt and butter, y'all). Simmered asparagus and green onion until it was tender, then threw in some sliced pork. Add store-bought garlic-ginger marinade. (side note- or you could probably use soy sauce, sugar, garlic and ginger, maybe some sesame oil) and cook on high until the meat is cooked through and the sauce is reduced. But here's where the magic happens- At the last minute of cooking, beat an egg, pour it on top of everything, and toss it around for a bit. Then dump it all on top of the rice.

Here's how it tasted- Fucking amazing, that's what. It's not a pretty dish (hence no picture) but man, oh man. It's nothing extraordinary, but like I said, sometimes the gods just smile upon you and you wind up with some tasty fuckin' shit.

Shaw's Crab House

A classy and classic Chicago joint. It's super-pricey, and the only reason we went there (twice!) was that one of my Scratchers tickets (Tangerine Madness, or something like that) paid off big time. (Seventy-five bones!) Smokers- on your daily trip to the Qwik-E-Mart, shell out the extra buck for a ticket to compliment your pack of smokes. You know smoking is "bad" and are already paying through the nose for a pack, so why the fuck not just make your purchase an even ten? I recommend- The brightest neon card, or something with a monkey, where the monkey is reaching for a bundle of bananas.

After arguing over who got to sit on the "booth" side of the table, my sister and I reached a mature compromise of sitting side by side. We look too much alike to be dating, anyway (and we could easily pretend that our imaginary male counterparts across the table were on an extended bathroom break). We perused the menu of standard-but-time-tested-awesome seafood and steak dishes, and placed our order. Scotch neat, please! I started with oysters Rockefeller and Erica got...I forget. (Who cares, right?) I am pleased to report that my oysters were perfectly proportioned- it wasn't just a bag of spinach on top of a tiny oyster. This thing was plump and savory, just like "what she said." I'm sure Erica's appetizer was whateverthefuck.

Then the main course- Alaskan King Crab. Lemon juice on bloody fingertips never tasted so good. Let's put on our "adult hats" for a minute, k? We were able to pull the meat out in one thick piece. It was tender and sweet, and definitely not overcooked. The meat at the knuckle (or lump, or whatever) was briny and not mushy like at lesser crab establishments. (Only eat your crabs at houses, huts, and shacks, but never at a shanty, hovel, or truck. Thank me later).

The waiter asked us if we were celebrating anything that evening (waiter code for "who wants free dessert?!?") so of course we made something up. Both times. We received a dessert sampler consisting of classics like cheesecake, creme brulee, key lime pie, and flourless chocolate torte. The plate said "Congratulations!" the first time, and "Happy Anniversary" the second, only because I suspect they were out of plates that said "Bullshit."

We had a great time. Shaw's Crab House gets 6 out of 7 crab claw shells. With a buttery shout-out to the Chicago lottery.

Midnight Snack

A top-secret blend of fiery Cajun spices on a blackened chicken breast, and obscene amount of crispy bacon, pepperjack cheese, avocado, lettuce, tomato, red onion, a dot of dijon mustard, on toasted dark rye. Serve with whiskey at midnight.

Fallen Heroes

As a child, one of the best moments in cartoon watching came when all the characters teamed up for an episode about not doing drugs. Ninja Turtles, Garfield and Friends, He-Man and She-Ra, GI Joe- all working together was never a bad episode.

Now look at this fucking thing.

My favorite foods, my heroes, joined together in a much hyped mega-sandwich. How could fried chicken, bacon and cheese be such a let down? I mean, look at it. LOOK AT IT! Slimy, glued on breading; flaccid, pepperless pepperjack cheese; "two" dead strips of bacon. Those assholes couldn't even deliver the promised amount of bacon. BROKEN PROMISES!! It's clearly one strip ripped in half. (Harkening back to the KFC Snacker, where they couldn't give you one crispy strip. Yep, just one ripped in half, which is why I imagine they try to sell them in pairs).

As for the flavor, I was expecting crispy, greasy, salty, and creamy melty cheese. It was two chicken breasts stuffed and surrounded by flavorless mush. (The "Colonel Sauce" was okay, whatever it is). One unforeseen obstacle in eating this thing- chewing. Prepare to chew long and hard. My suggestion? Make your own. KFC Double down receives one star ripped in half out of two stars.

In case I don't answer my phone, try http://www.whatthefuckshouldimakefordinner.com/index.php

Flash Taco- lies somewhere between the hip taco place with no Mexicans and the Mexican place that also sells cheeseburgers. This is the closest I've come to that "back home in Tucson" feeling and it is a comfort to know I can get drunk and eat tacos somewhere else now. The service is quick and impersonal, but not rude, and you can enjoy some blazing-hot Latin hits on the big screen TVs above the menu while you wait. As for the food, it's just what I expected from the place- crispy and a lot. Pictured here is the Three Taco Dinner (which I ate for lunch because I don't follow the rules). The chicken was bland- nothing at this place is spicy! It came with two "meh" salsas, refried beans, and some undercooked rice. Not bad for seven bucks, though.
I give it 3/5 for the daytime, and 4.5/5 around last call.
Oh, and there's an abandoned hot dog cart in the ladies bathroom that I can't figure out how they got through the door.

Welcome to Mouth Fancy

Welcome to Mouth Fancy. A blog for people curious about the foods I have eaten today. (Sandwiches and jello). Contrary to the name, this blog ain't gonna be fancy 'n shit, because I am unemployed and shouldn't be going out to eat in the first place (probably shouldn't be buying lottery tickets either, but...) Therefore, I might just write about the neighborhood bums, or that I miss my dog, or why I think there are people living in my walls. Feel free to begin a betting pool over how soon I will forget my password, or that I ever started a blog. K, Byeee.