Archive for the ‘food’ Category

Chipotle Carnitas Famine: Day 2

January 16, 2015

Went back round Chipotle again just to see if it hadn’t all been a bad dream. Sure nuff the sign were still up, NO CARNITAS just like the night before, but I hadn’t et Chipotle for nigh on three days by that time and Pa reckoned that there mightn’t be any carnitas for a long stretch. At least today there was enough chicken and steak to go round, or it seemed that way to me when I looked through the glass, but the feller serving me was mighty stingy with my half chicken half steak fajita bowl, kept shaking meat off the scoop as though he was pannin for gold in there. Even so I felt downright blessed by the Holy Sperit for what little I did get, cause if it turnt out that some of them chickens or cows was not being treated all humane-like before they get butchered up and chucked into my bowl, I mighta had to settle for them sofritas, which I don’t rightly know what that is. I asked Pa and he didn’t know either, then Grandpappy said he’d heard that sofritas were toe food, and we had to take the hooch away from Grandpappy again. But it’s lean times at the Chipotles and that’s the truth.


Chipotle Carnitas Famine: Day 1

January 16, 2015

I had just set down for breakfast with Ma and Pa when I heard the man say over the radio that some of the Chipotles weren’t going to have the carnitas for a spell – something about the pigs what the carnitas come from not being treated ethnically – which didn’t make a lick of sense to me, since as far as I know there ain’t never been a pig that had a problem with a pig on account of them being different colors, they all liked the slop just the same. I guess I didn’t think much of the story at the time, figgerin it was one of them things that happen in far off places, like zeppelin crashes or Musselman rampages. So that night when I was walking home from the elevated after a long day at the factory I got a hankerin for some Chipotles but when I walked in I could tell something was already wrong just by the way folk were standing around sort of dumbstruck-like, and right away I knew it was the carnitas, even before I seen the sign that said it.

Well I thought for sure that the Chipotles in Chicago would be fine – that it was all them fancy folk in them megapocalyspes on the East Coast who wouldn’t have no carnitas to feast on, so far from the pig farms and pig ranches. I recollected being a kid and hearing Grandpappy tell us stories that he’d heard from his Grandpappy all about how folk used to call Chicago Hogbutcher for the whole world, but that was in long ago times, and come to think of it Grandpappy used to say a lot of crazy things — most ‘specially when he’d get into the hooch — like that the elevated ran all the way out to Hillside and the Cubs sometimes won the pennant. But none of that mattered now, standing there in that Chipotles with that sign staring me in the face, and that weren’t even the worst of it.

There weren’t no chicken and steak available neither! The fellers at work in the kitchen just couldn’t keep enough ready, what with the dinner rush and one of the meat options already missing. Some folk were standing around waitin, but there weren’t no telling how long it might take, some folk said 3 minutes, others they said as much as 5. Hungry as I was I couldn’t bear to wait that long and not have my carnitas at the end of it. Then I recollected bout a place run by some Chinamen from Korea, down the street a ways. I trudged out in the cold and it took me nigh on 6 minutes to walk there, through the slush and snow and even a puddle. I asked them for some BBQ Pork but I guess they do it different back in the Orient because it weren’t like no BBQ I’d ever heard of, not Kansas City nor Texas nor even Caroliney. I set to it though, because there weren’t no carnitas to be had. When I got home I told Ma and Pa that there weren’t no carnitas at the Chipotles by us, and they told me it had been like that all over town, no carnitases anywhere, and Pa had asked a manager about it and the manager just sort of got a glossy look in his eye and shake his head. That night before bed I said a prayer askin the Lord for the carnitas to be back and for the Chipotles to be just like they had been before, like none of this ever happened, but I fell asleep with a rumbly sad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

god damn it

November 29, 2008

I wrote this once for my old complaint blog, and I repost it verbatim after my return to Corner Bakery for the first time in months.

The people at Corner Bakery frequently forget to put croutons in my caesar salad. There are three fucking ingredients in caesar salad. Leaves, dressing, and croutons (maybe some cheese). How brain-dead are you to say, here is a complete caesar salad, even though it is just a pile of damp leaves without croutons.

Corner Bakery today joins Chili’s on my DEAD TO ME list of dining establishments.


November 11, 2008

if that IS your real name.

I see that you are part of the blogocracy. The bloggerment. The esblogishment. I know this because you are firing off letters to 7-year old bloggers. And that’s fine, I mean, I’m not the kind of guy to wonder why you are reading about second-rate Hoth dioramas that feature neither wampas nor tauntauns while GM and Ford stock are about to become the latest additions to the McDonald’s Dollar Menu. We all need a break from work. Me, I am always surfing for scuttlebutt on that dreamy Chace Crawford! What lucky lady is going to land him???

All I want to know is, why are you reading about an admittedly more thorough Lego Exo-Force diorama when THIS blogger has reached out to you on the still outstanding issue of the missing awesome blossom? You were clearly CCed on my letter to the chief asshat at Chili’s. And just because I didn’t actually send the letter, that’s no excuse. You’ve got people crawling all over the internets so don’t play it like you haven’t seen it.

If contributing a cool grand to a presidential campaign doesn’t get me the kind of juice to have you reinstate, by Executive Order (or simply because You will it), the Chili’s Awesome Blossom, then frankly I’m not sure I even want to be part of your new Marxist America. I don’t know what kind of insane fried-onion sculptures they have at Spiaggia, but the rest of us are on a budget, sir.


Oprah Winfrey

BTW if the kid reads this, the Hoth diorama is actually pretty badass and clearly I’m just jealous.

they are hot on my trail

July 29, 2008

I used to joke about a conspiracy against me, but it is becoming very real.

To recap:

1. My favorite weekend hungover food is Burger King. I live about 4 blocks away from the one that was on North and Wells. They closed it and now I have to drive basically to Humboldt Park for a Whopper. It is now a Fifth/Third Bank which doesn’t even make sense. I am calling you Fifteenth Bank.

2. My favorite summer hangout was literally a block away from my house. It was Cactus. They served rumrunners. They were delicious and boozy. Cactus was closed to make way for a “boutique hotel.” The only construction that has gone on so far is to rip out every vestige of Cactus and its lamer but still-better-than-nothing cousin, Melvin B’s.

3. Goose Island totally changed their menu, removing such winners as the Bison Burger. Then they announced they are closing their location nearest to me.

4. Chili’s has discontinued the Awesome Blossom, and you may know my feelings about it.

And now:

As a simple substitute, I remembered that the Bennigan’s around the corner from my work has a popcorn shrimp appetizer that they serve with fried onion straws. I figured this would be a good way to fill the Awesome Blossom void. I ordered it once last week.

In today’s Tribune:

Bennigan’s closes restaurant at 225 N. Michigan

Jay Aitch Sharkeffin to the Cee.

p.s. I promise my next post will not be about food i miss.

a letter to chili’s

July 21, 2008

Situation Has Deteriorated Enterprises, Inc.
Department Of Major Fucking Grievances

Todd E. Diener
President, Chili’s Grill & Bar
6820 LBJ Freeway
Dallas, TX 75240

July 21, 2008

Dear Admiral Asshat:

Jesus H. Sharkfucking Christ in a lunchbox.

What in the name of Nebuchadnezzar’s pisshole are you thinking? I fucking went to your fucking restaurant on fucking Saturday for the only fucking reason I ever fucking go there which is to have an Awesome fucking Blossom. I ordered it right after I ordered my drink. But it is fucking gone. It is not on the menu anymore. It has been banished to the realm of shadows.

Do you think I go to your soulless husk of a restaurant for your fajitas or tacos or quesedillas? No, I can get salmonella at Taco Bell for a third of the price. Do you think the El Presidente margarita is some kind of draw? No, you miserable taintlicker, it is not. The Presidente tastes like it’s already been pre-filtered through Cheech Marin’s kidneys.

Where is your fucking obnoxious ad campaign, announcing your insane decision, to save me the trouble of visiting your cookie-cutter establishment? You know, with the whole crew, and instead of singing the old jingle “Chiliiii’s – babyback ribs” you can sing “Chili’s – awesome blossom is gone” and the bass voice that says “barbeque sauce” can now say “go fuck yourself. ” People will get the drift, then.

And you know, the hostess even heard me talking about my craving while I waited for a table and she kept her mouth shut. I pray to Vishnu that she will burn in hell for her sin of omission.

Is this the result of the New York thing, requiring restaurants to show how many calories are in each item? Guess what! I know that the Awesome Blossom has 2700 Christ-humping calories. CALORIES ARE DIRECTLY PROPORTIONAL TO DELICIOUSNESS. And even if I didn’t know the exact number, I am grown-up enough to realize that when you take something and slice it into its thinnest possible components and then CAKE EACH TINY PIECE IN FRIED GOODNESS, it is not a positive choice for a heart-healthy lifestyle. I CAN MAKE THAT CHOICE FOR MYSELF, YOU CRYPTOFASCIST MOUNTEBANK

I don’t want to eat at your shitty establishment every week. But God-damn-ass-crap-it, when I want an Awesome Blossom, I sure as shitballs should be able to get one.

Maybe this decision was not yours, personally, but you are the captain of this particular epicurean Titanic, so I fault you. And now that I think about it, I am going to follow-up and investigate whether you are involved in other recent wrongs I have suffered, viz., 1) the closing of the Burger King on North Ave., 2) the closing of Cactus (which by the way had better quesedillas) with nothing being built in its place 3) my Red Line stop has been closed on weekends for like a year now.

If you want to contact me I’ll be at fucking Outback Steakhouse eating Bloomin Onions because the fake Australians have retained, for the time being, a little bit more man-juice in their metaphoric scrotums than you and your fake Mexicans, or fake Arizonans, I can never really tell which you are supposed to be.

Warmest Regards,


cc: Barack Obama

Related: sign the unofficial petition to bring back the Blossom.
Sort of related throwback: my slightly less furious tirade against Burger King regarding the onion ring in the fries issue.


sammich in love

July 8, 2008

Some people miss lost loves; some people miss dead pets. I miss sandwiches.

A lot of things happened in Vegas over the weekend, but the thing I keep thinking about the most is the caesar salad sandwich I had at the food court at Caesar’s (of course) Palace. The bun alone was worth the trip. I lament the lack of a similar bun option at my current lunch locations. I don’t even know what the heck you CALL that kind of bun so I could look for it.

Thinking about that sandwich  made me think about another sandwich I used to get in St. Louis – and this one, I’ll never have again because apparently the place is closed. I can’t even remember the name of the place. Maybe it had an X in it? or a Z? Anyway they had this delicious garlicy-cheesy-beefy monster of a sandwich and it was delicious.

RIP, good sandwich.

Meanwhile I’m stuck with either shitty Jimmy John’s, even shittier and overpriced Sopraffina, and the crappy cafe in the lobby. Life is so unfair.

in your face, city council

May 20, 2008

The City Council overturned the ban on foie gras with a bit of good old-fashioned Daley strong-arming. I may be a lawyer, but I was a Chicagoan first, and it is hard not to enjoy Daley’s dictatorial tactics when they are aimed at ends that you also happen to support. Does this make me a bad citizen? Almost certainly. But the foie gras ban was really just abysmally stupid.

Anyway the point of this post is to plug the anti-foie-gras-ban post I wrote when the ban was first passed, which you can read here. I have no doubt this post was the reason the ban was overturned. Hopefully the city council can now tackle the stupid-looking-people issue.

P.S. The ban was not particularly difficult to sidestep for enterprising restaurateurs in the first place. Last fall when I was at Bin 36, they offered foie gras which they did not SELL but provided – free! – when you ordered this little salad that consisted of like a mushroom and a grape. That aside, I noticed that foie gras was already back on the menu, without any legal fiction, at Naha on Saturday.

I had the ribeye.

recipe of the day

March 14, 2008

Sometimes it is hard to think of stuff to blog about, especially as I am reticent to publicize my (failed) relationships with, you know, females. But as I sail through the blogipelago, I frequently find inspiration in other blogs. For example I have noticed that the lady bloggers frequently blog about their cooking, e.g., wife of my law school buddy made something chocolaty with berries. So I said shit, I should do that, give my new readers a little insight, a little taste, a ha ha, if you will, of what it is like to dine at my apartment on a fine near-spring evening. So here we go. This is a recipe that my mom used to make and, you know, it’s just kind of stuck with me over the years, I think it is good to hold on to traditions, you know, pass them down, maybe someday I will pass this recipe down to my offspring, should I break the lifetime streak of failed relationships mentioned above, or, hnur, if something else breaks in the interim.

For my slower readers, that last bit was about condoms breaking, and illegitimate children.

Anyway. The recipe. What is it? I have seen many versions online, but I like to use the one directly below, not only because of its three short steps, but also due to the ancient pictogram format. Pictograms are always a sensible call. “If it’s good enough for ancient Mesopotamians, it’s good enough for me,” is what I always say. Perhaps this recipe comes to us, through the ages, from Gilgamesh himself:


Steps one and two are simple enough. Just boil some pasta and drain it as you normally would. But after that’s done, it’s time for the secret ingredient:


Oops! That’s uranium oxide, aka yellowcake. (Do I need to tell you what the fuck you can do with an aluminum tube?). This is what I actually put in my dinner:


I don’t know how I got those two mixed up! Wacky. Now, to tell a secret, I kind of deviated from the recipe here. I don’t actually have any milk in my apartment because it goes bad quickly. EVERYTHING I have goes bad in my apartment. I could tell you about the Pot of Pasta, but that’s a story for another time (two other times. There was a Pot of Pasta fiasco in law school. This is Pot of Pasta II.) So long story short, there is no milk in my mac’n’cheese. Just butter, pasta, and powdered uranium “cheese.”

Here’s the final product. Not my best work. I overcooked the mac and then I sort of forget to turn the stove off and burnt it a little while i was mixing. I’m sure I’ll get the hang of this after the next 10,000 times I make it.


After a taste test I still deemed it delicious, but what do I pair it with? And what about presentation?


Bon appetit.

the kuma burger post

March 11, 2008

The following is apparently a collaborative effort with the ineffable Kenny Havok at Zubaz and Cock Rock and Cutley of Robot in Disguise, which is not, as I had hoped, a blog about Styx’s 1983 magnum opus Kilroy Was Here but is a pretty damn good blog nonetheless.

Kenny Havok has blogged about our visit to Kuma’s Corner, which has excellent half-pound burgers named after heavy metal bands, but also has ludicrously long wait times, especially if you are waiting for your first meal of the day at 9:30 pm on a Sunday. All in all it is a good experience though.

I also received a massage from Mr. Havok, which helped with the waiting.

I ordered something called a YOB burger. I don’t know if that’s Y.O.B. or yob and even the esteemed Mr. Havok wasn’t sure, although he did inform me that they were a well known “doom metal” band. Then he explained what doom metal was.

I can’t pretend to be a metalhead. I’m a commercial litigator whose idea of a good time is raspberry sorbet topped with rainbow sprinkles (you think I’m lying). Sure my iPod has no shortage of Metallica, Zeppelin, AC/DC, Judas Priest, Iron Maiden. But it also has at least one Spice Girls song on it, and I like it, even if I have no idea what the words are. (“Shake it to the left, if you’re having a good time, shave me upside down, I’m going to Cucamonga?”)

Anyway, along with Kenny’s post here, here are my suggestions for burgers named after rock bands. Kuma already has burgers named after some of these bands, but I think my suggestions, of course, are better.

Led Zeppelin
Led Zeppelin likes their burgers like they like their women – stuffed with mudshark.

T. Rex
Girl I made a burger for ya
From a unicorn horn, and a hat I’ve worn
Topped with hydra teeth, and a holly wreath
With a side of fries made from mongoose thighs.
Served on a hubcap diamond star halo oh yeah.

(If the T. Rex seems tasty but a half-pound is too much, order up the quarter-pound Dio.)

Lita Ford
No meat, just a pair of hot buns.

Van Halen
Tastes pretty good to start. Tastes different after a few bites but still good. Then suddenly the whole thing falls apart, and no matter how you try to reassemble it, it always goes to pieces right when you think you’re about to get another delicious bite.

Dave Mustaine will personally piss on every one of these burgers.

Topped with water chestnuts, bok choi, and szechuan sauce, the kitchen will have that ready for you “any minute now.”

Take that one to heart.