Cal and I have eaten at the Trident Grill on a two occasions. Most recently we checked it out on a weeknight hoping to catch the first game of the World Series. It wasn’t too crowded but there was enough people to give it a decent ambiance. We sat underneath one of the bigger televisions so Kevin and Cal could get a good view of the game, I don’t really care who wins so I conceded the seats.
It’s important when comparing restaurants offering similar cuisines that you select a barometer dish. For example, my barometer dish for Chinese restaurants is Mongolian Chicken. My brother uses pepperoni as his barometer pizza. For sushi, I use the Vegas Roll and tuna nigiri. Cal and I tried both at Fusion Wasabi last week.
Mary’s Lucky Dollar: S. 10th and 22nd
Pull up to this dinky white house turned restaurant in the early morning and enjoy one of the best Mexican breakfast menus in town!! This place is beyond funky and as you enter all of the locals of the area look at you and wonder who the hell you are and why the hell you are there. As you head for the counter to order your food you check out the menu and say to yourself— what the hell, are these prices for real (they have actually raised their prices–they scratch out the price and pencil in a new price on the wall menu)?? Have a great meal for two for under 10 bucks!!!! As you are handing the cashier your money, you glance to the back of the room and you see 80 or 90 year olds peeling potatoes and watching a novella—oh, this is some good atmosphere.You settle into a booth or a folding table. The food arrives and WOW! I could make love to this chorizo, and the huevos rancheros are beautiful looking and truly outstanding. Being from the border, I am a hellava picky Mexican food critic and this place signifies ocho chili tepins! Lunch is not as tasty—therefore it does not recieve my 10 chili tepins. Atmosphere=10 tepins, Huevos Rancheros=10 tepins, Chorizo=10 tepins, Name of Restaurant =10 plus tepins!
Look for the dollar on the wall!
-Josh Conzemius
I love to watch people eat food. I’m not saying that weirdly, in a, “Oh, that’s Marshall, he likes to watch.” way it’s just that I find people’s eating habits interesting. You know, some people it all of one thing and then move on to the next. Some people eat their hamburgers with a fork. Everyone does something different with their napkin. I just find everyone’s little eating quirks either weird or hilarious.
Cal finally dragged me to Mariscos Chihuahua. I’ve been putting my foot down about the place for a few months now and I’m not sure why. Perhaps it was the constant construction taking place at the 22nd street location which is closest to my house. I just felt that was a bad omen of some sort. But there must be other reasons I was reluctant to go. I’ve never heard anyone in the seven years that I’ve lived here mention it even in passing so that might be it as well.
I loathe the term gourmet as an adjective, in virtually every context. It’s technically a noun but by common bastardization it has turned into a sometime adjective. Jimmy John’s commits this sin in the worst way possible, it advertises its sandwiches as being “gourmet,” yet no real gourmet would ever set foot in such a hackneyed establishment. Gourmet to Jimmy John (If he even exists, I doubt but just this once, I’m hoping there is some dickhole somewhere named Jimmy John who opened a sub par sub shop that took off despite its mediocre offerings.) must mean really chewy, dense bread and tons of mayonnaise.
When school started I was relegated to the five to seven shift. I really couldn’t believe that this was an actual shift. I had to work everyday to get any hours. The five to seven shift consisted of sweeping and mopping the floor and bathrooms, emptying the trash in the kitchen, washing the dishes and making the cookies. The most difficult part was washing the soup warmers. Especially on days when we had cream of broccoli which no one liked and consequently crusted and adhered itself with amazing strength to the sides of the pot.
When I was 16 I got a job at Schlotzsky’s. Their slogan was and still is: Funny Name, Serious Sandwich. A more apt slogan would be: Stupid Name No One Can Spell, Average Sandwich on Vaguely Compelling Bread but I guess it just doesn’t have the same ring to it.
There’s something oddly fascinating about being in the presence of a genuinely stupid human being. Not a boring, run-of-the-mill, thick-headed doofus; but a bona fide, jaw-droppingly inept, “how did they survive this long?” stone-cold moron. When the conditions are just right, exposure to such a person can be an exhilarating experience. Todd “Lickity” Split was that kind of man.
