Hey, if you want to save the world by making biodegradable plastic forks from corn, go right ahead.
But I'd appreciate it if the fork didn't warp out of shape when I try to eat the delicious kibbeh my wife made for my lunch.
By the way— I love my wife and her delicious kibbeh.
In a tongue-in-cheek evaluation, Jason Kottke states that Shake Shack burgers are better than In-N-Out. He does note, though, that In-N-Out wins in the fries category and in price-for-yumminess ratio. He's also kind enough to note that it's not a totally fair comparison, since he's comparing a restaurant to a fast food joint.
This aside, I think Jason's evaluation would have changed had he ordered the right thing at In-N-Out.
Merry Christmas! Am I the only person who's noticed that "Happy Holidays!" is a phrase that's rapidly supplanting "Merry Christmas" as the customary spoken greeting of the season? While "Happy Holidays!" has certainly been around for a while, I'd always thought it existed almost exclusively in the realm of greeting cards and department store ads. But just this year, I'm hearing it more and more in person, and the political-correctness of it all makes me cringe. Not to mention, it always comes off sounding like a bad Hallmark commercial. Next year, someone's going to smile cheerfully at me and say "Season's Greetings!" and I will go absolutely berserk.
Let's not forget the original reason for the seasonal cheer: rejoicing in the birth of Jesus Christ, sent to fulfill the Father's great plan of salvation. Keeping that in mind helps me see the significance behind the phrase "Merry Christmas!"
While you're probably expecting a Christmas-related entry, this is actually a "food" entry that I've been meaning to post for the past couple weeks. I've got a little down time right now, so here goes.
We went to Seasons for our annual company Christmas lunch, and the meal did little to change my opinion that it's the most overrated restaurant in town. I usually don't mind paying a little extra for a meal, as long as it's made up in either:
Seasons, I'm assuming, is banking on the first and third, and falls short. Their lunch menu is somewhat uninspired, consisting mostly of pizzas, sandwiches, and pasta dishes. Nonetheless, they charge around $5 more for what you could get somewhere else. The only discernible difference is the nomenclature: the pizzas are actually called "flat breads," for example. And don't you dare get the name wrong. Last year, when my co-worker Will asked for a hamburger, the waitress corrected him and said it was a "chuck burger."
Last year, I ordered fettucine carbonara. While it tasted alright, it didn't leave me satisfied. This year, I wanted to make sure I got my company's money's worth (thankfully, they paid for the meal), so I ordered a "chuck burger." It looked like a slightly-seared hamburger, and it tasted like a slightly-seared hamburger, but there must have been something indiscernible about it that let them charge another $6 and give it a different name. I couldn't help but start thinking about The Emperor's New Clothes: is it possible that people only speak well about the restaurant because they'd be embarassed to admit to spending a lot of money at a not-so-great place?
In their defense, Seasons had great service (maybe it helped that I knew our waiter from high school), and the presentation was very nice. It's worth ordering one of their lemonades just to see one: they became conversation pieces. The dessert menu was pretty good, too, although my chai cheesecake didn't taste too much like chai (though it did taste very good.)
But for what my drink, meal, and dessert cost, I'd be able to feed two people at, say, Ding How, for much better-tasting food. Like their heavenly "chin ju" chicken. I have no idea what they put into that (it can't be much more than salt, pepper, and ginger) but it tastes so good, and unfortunately, I can't find a recipe for it. You'd figure I'd be able to find one through Google—that's how I figured out how to make honey walnut prawns—but so far I've come up short. Any tips in the right direction would be appreciated.
Speaking of chicken, this past week I tried the buffalo wings at Grand Central Station (see picture above), a little restaurant in West Sac named after the NYC depot. The hot sauce is rated on the following scale:
I tried out the "inferno" wings, and although they were very good, they weren't that hot: probably equivalent to a medium-hot elsewhere. I didn't even break a sweat, and didn't need much water relief. Still, it's kinda nice that I can now impress people by letting them know that I survived "inferno" buffalo wings.
I'm backlogged in terms of things that I'd like to post about, but I might as well start with a recounting of the Sixth Sushi-Eating Contest between Nathan and myself.*
The wait for a table wasn't long (Yay for Fuji's on a Tuesday!), so within about fifteen minutes of arrival, we got down to business. A typical round of sushi-eating involves three plates, which is about the most you can carry from the little boats at one time. Three plates sounds like a lot, but a picture will put it into context: one plate holds about two rolls.
The first round went without incident, and we both felt fine. I asked one of the sushi chefs for a special order of smoked salmon (yum!) for the second round. Usually, they just give you a normal plate with two rolls on it, but for some reason the gentleman gave me a plate double the normal size with four rolls. I asked Nathan if it could count as two plates, and after some deliberation, he accepted. Waiting for the special order cost me, though: Nathan had already started round three while I was working through the end of round two.
Seeing that I was lagging, I opted to find a way to catch up. Going back to the sushi boats, I looked for something that looked light and would go down quickly to help me catch up. A plate of ikura looked innocent enough, so I grabbed it.
Big mistake.
Ikura, it turns out, is salmon roe, something I've never tried before. Nathan eyed it suspiciously when I brought it back with me. I'm not averse to eating odd-looking food, but I nonetheless felt queasy looking at these translucent orange blobs. Putting those feelings aside, I grabbed my chopsticks, raised one roll to my mouth, and took a tentative bite.
The taste of fish and salt immediately triggered a retching reaction in my throat, and my eyes bulged out. Nathan, who was watching with a bemused smile, burst out laughing. It wasn't so much that it tasted bad—it was just way too salty. I knew immediately that I had made a grave strategic error. Nathan noted that I didn't need to finish the plate…but I knew that if I went back for another plate, I would fall even further behind him. So I opted to eat the whole plate, taking bites between gulps of water and nibbling at other items I'd brought back with me.
That would be big mistake number two.
From there, it was a downhill battle, as Nathan and I went on, round after round. We stubbornly downed plate after plate, gave each other a challenging look, and then stumbled back for more. We started to spend more time at the boats, carefully picking whichever dish would go down quickly. The ikura had taken its toll, and I knew it, but I hoped to simply outlast Nathan.
Nathan, however, is a man of exceptional gastrointestinal stamina, a true pillar of abdominal prowess.
I was working on plate seventeen—a nice pair of tuna rolls—when I experienced another involuntary retching reaction. At this point, it was clear that my body was saying "You're bonkers, Aliotsy!", so I called it quits, and ate a plate of orange slices to stop at eighteen plates. Nathan, who was working on plate nineteen, finished two more to win the tournament at twenty-one plates. I haven't seen anyone finish over twenty plates since I had sushi with my friend Ian, the 220-pound collegiate rugby player.
So Nathan holds the series lead, 5-0-1. I, on the other hand, have had enough sushi for at least two months.
*That would be Nathan's count, not mine. In fact, I don't even recall eating sushi with Nathan that many times, and of the times we've eaten sushi, I only considered two of them contests. But I digress.
Here's a wakeup call for those of you who think Chipotle's burritos are healthy: "Fresh Mex: Not Always Health Mex." There's something just not right about a Vegetarian Burrito that weighs in at over 1,000 calories. And you've gotta love it when the article describes Chipotle's carnitas burrito as "an artillery shell filled with a day's worth of saturated fat and sodium."
I've always kinda suspected this. After all, Chipotle is "financially supported" by McDonald's (they get prickly when you say "owned by McDonald's"), and nothing that big could possibly be that good for you. I guess that's partly why I don't kid myself and prefer to get my burrito fix at Guad, since with names like "Super Giant Burrito," you know exactly what you're getting yourself into.
Incidentally, I've created a new entry category called "Food," because I keep finding myself talking about tasty things on this blog. If you like reading about food online, you should check out Yimay's site.
