Nate's Plate - Funny low-brow food reviews and taste tests

Coffee good, package bad: The Great Lakes Coffee Roasting Company

2010-11-30T21:04:00.008-05:00

I like supporting my local businesses as much as the next guy, especially Western Market in Ferndale, because a significant percentage of the meat counter employees know me by name. Besides, they sell their own fresh-squeezed orange juice. On a recent visit to Western, I was stopped on my way to said meat counter by the tantalizing aroma of fresh coffee beans. I just happened to be out of drinkin' beans at my house, so I decided to take a gander at the goods.

It turned out to be wares from the Great Lakes Coffee Roasting Company. Great Lakes coffee is so good that I almost feel bad annihilating their packaging here. Almost. If I hadn't previously had it at Mae's, my favorite local restaurant, I never would have bought the dang stuff. See, they have clever yet meaningless names for their coffee -- ones that give no hint of what kind of beans, and therefore flavors, are inside. What's the Corktown Blend? What's the Triple Threat? On top of that, all of their bags I have seen have the exact same dripping-with-snob essay on the back.

As the folks at Cabo Chips know, I am no stranger to dissecting a food essay, so here we are again.

"Great Lakes coffee is not for you[1]. You should stop reading this immediately and drive to the closest coffee chain drive-thru[2]. We roast coffee an an old-fashioned drum roaster. If our roaster were any smaller we would have to use nanotechnology[3]. We think small when it comes to coffee. Our narrow-minded focus on coffee is just plain wrong[4]. You probably are not prepared to be burdened with so much information about where the coffee is grown, how it is processed, particular flavor characteristics and the many brewing options[5]. Why don't you just get a cup of regular coffee? Life is too complicated for options like organic and fair trade certifications or micro-lots of coffee from specific coffee growing regions[6]. You probably want something that's just hot and black like a lump of coal[7]. Just remember, by choosing not to engage in what you are drinking, you still have made a choice.[8, 9]"

1. Weeds out normies and sensitive people, thus limiting potential customer base.
2. Sure, I will just abandon my grocery cart.
3. Joke for people who read Wired magazine.
4. We aspire to be like Philip Morris.
5. Is this why you didn't bother to tell me what sort of coffee is in the bag I am holding?
6. Does this coffee have all of these characteristics?
7. Or Beyonce.
8. You didn't give me much of a choice when you made your packaging so vague.
9. Nice Rush reference.

If you're a luck-of-the-draw kind of coffee drinker who requires something better than brown water, go ahead and get some Great Lakes coffee. If you're Great Lakes coffee, please consider being a bit more specific about your beans.

Having Thanksgiving mostly my way

2010-11-22T18:47:00.020-05:00

Swallow your Franzia because when you read about what happened to me this Thanksgiving season, you're likely to do a spit-take!

It's likely that you've already read my holiday classic, "Thanksgiving My Way", so you'll be pleased to hear that I got DANG close to having Thanksgiving My Way this year. And it's not even Thanksgiving yet!

This pre-holiday miracle transpired when Elise suggested we have a delicious pre-Thanksgiving with her mom and sis, since I'd be making the most of my time off of work by driving 5 hours each way just to eat dinner in Pittsburgh.

Being the unorthodox American that I am, I seized the opportunity to enjoy a delicious ham. There was turkey too, but since no one deserves to spend a minimum of seven hours thawing and cooking a bird, we got a two-ish-pound Jennie O turkey breast that cooks in a bag. It even came with its own gravy. Genius.

On a side note, does it worry anyone else that all of the turkeys in the open freeze row at the grocery story smell vaguely of rotting meat?

Anyhow, the advantage of getting your hands on a breast-only turkey is that there's no opportunity to prepare vile in-the-butt stuffing, which is one of the no-nos of Thanksgiving My Way.

There was no crevice stuffing, but there was:

Green bean casserole

Sweet potato casserole

Mashed redskin potatoes, skins on

Loads of stuffing with cranberries added

Mickey's Malt Liquor Grenades

Gin n juice

"Two" Buck Chuck

Delicious coffee

There was almost a pumpkin pie, but our friendly local grocer only carried graham cracker crust.

After dinner, we didn't watch football -- another rule of Thanksgiving My Way. Instead, we relaxed on the couch and enjoyed such classic films as Caddy Shack and the Enforcer.

I had the pain and privilege of going to work the next day, so there was no group breakfast, but Pre-Thanksgiving 2010 was a success. And it went my way. Thanks, Elise!

Without further ado, the photo gallery!

Micro icebox of deliciousness including ham and malt liquor plus Asti and fresh-squeezed OJ for mimosas.

Ham, getting ready to become even more delicious by way of Elise's "How's It Work" Vernor's-based glaze.

Ham and turkey together in the micro-oven. Best friends!

Mt. Marshmallow atop the sweet potato plain.

A toast to celebration meats.

Another gratuitous ham shot.

Gravy -- the only reason people think turkey is delicious.

Dinner plate, before addition of sweet potato casserole and extra gravy.

Prologue: I totally ate leftover ham and green bean casserole while writing this.

Bay Port Fish Sandwich Festival

2010-10-06T17:07:00.005-04:00

This summer, my friend Travis had the pleasure of attending a quaint fish sandwich festival in rural Michigan. It took some time to develop the digital pictures (hey that reminds me of an ad I wrote) but here's a photo essay of his experience.

It’s been nearly two months since the Bay Port Fish Sandwich Festival and I’m still having trouble reconciling what exactly happened that weekend. In fact, despite photographic evidence, I’m still unconvinced it even took place. Since such events, real or not, rarely merit more prose than this, I’ll just sum the experience up in bullet form:

This sign greeted us as we entered. Oddly, there was no mention of anger or terror.

These dudes played for four hours. Their rendition of Edwin McCain’s “I’ll Be” was especially heartbreaking.

The culinary highlight of the festival. Tasted like plastic.

A bit of foreshadowing here ...

and here.

The chef ...

prepared a delicious meal ...

with all the best fixins.

Oh yeah, the bingo was fun. Jackpots upward of $12!

Wendy's SoNnNnNnN

2010-06-25T11:06:00.007-04:00

This is the best restaurant review I have ever read.

This place is BAWLIN' yo. Chicken nuggitz be crispy like you never SEEN. I tasted one and I was like "WHAAAAT! Are you serious Wendy?"
Mean girls workin the friers, tho. This one chick wouldn't even let me holla. I was like "please you ugly anyway."

See for yourself >

Health Valley rice bran crackers

2010-05-27T15:29:00.008-04:00

Wow. Jordan hates these crackers as much as I hate Cabo Chips. The only thing missing is a pun about "Hellth" Valley. -Nate

I will often use the phrase “it tastes like cardboard” to describe foods that don’t have much flavor. But there’s usually a wide margin between the taste of the food and the taste of actual cardboard. I had never tasted a food that actually tasted like cardboard.

Not until today.

Health Valley Rice Bran crackers are the worst crackers I have ever eaten. They are among the worst foods I have ever eaten. They taste exactly like a paper product, and leave a sawdust-like residue in your teeth, forcing you to think about the cracker for the next several hours.

They were purchased by my desk neighbor, Melanie, who tries really hard to be healthy, which sometimes is hard when you sit next to me, because I try really hard to scrounge as much free chocolate from around the office as I can. Also, Melanie is just a nicer person all around than I am, I think. But I digress.

Back to the worst crackers ever.

I’m not really sure what prompted her to buy these. They seem to me to be a product made only for people who can’t eat gluten, seeing as there are plenty of much more delicious and equally healthy wheat-based bran crackers out there. If you’re going to get a rice cracker, just get a rice cracker. Those are delicious. Also, I enjoy rice cakes, especially with peanut butter on them. This is neither. This is like the gluten-free equivalent of veggie dogs, which are only not-disgusting to vegetarians because they do not regularly enjoy the taste of real hot dogs, which are extremely delicious.

You can only enjoy the taste of Health Valley Rice Bran crackers if you never have the opportunity to eat real crackers. And if you have also had your taste buds rendered useless in a freak accident.

Here is a picture of Emily, our other desk neighbor, when I put the box of crackers near her face.

I think the crackers gave Emily PTSD.

In summation, I would like to rate these crackers 0 stars out of a billion. Or infinity. Health Valley Rice Bran Crackers: Zero out of infinity plus one stars.

Here's the thing about the KFC Double Down

2010-04-14T12:52:00.003-04:00

Here's the thing about the KFC Double Down. It's not weird at all. Stop freaking out.

The sandwich was brought to my attention by the social media blitz it created mostly because someone took the standard components of a modest meal and assembled them into a sandwich. That modest meal just happened not to feature any bread, so the outside of said sandwich is two reasonably sized pieces of fried chicken. To keep your hands clean, it comes in wax paper.

If you took the sandwich apart, you'd have two average pieces of chicken, a tiny bit of bacon, a little cup of sauce, and some cheese. No big whoop.

The thing's about the size of a McDonald's hamburger, so KFC's advertising agency clearly used some very special camera lenses to make this thing look much larger than it actually is. I had a Double Down, a side of mashed potatoes and two Dr. Peppers and I'm not even uncomfortable at this moment.

On to the flavors.

It's delicious. The fried chicken breading has some black pepper and other seasonings, the Colonel must have an interesting diet because the orange "Colonel's Sauce" is nice and zesty, and the Monterey and pepper jack cheeses (yes I actually ate the cheese) added a nice little kick and didn't taste like rancid death.

So, go eat the damn thing because at 540 calories, it's less than 1/3 of your daily caloric intake. And despite what the hippies in my office say, the universe is NOT going to be replacing bread with meat any time soon.

Floor pastry from Bread and Cocoa, San Francisco

2010-04-01T12:32:00.005-04:00

Before work this morning, I went to the cafe / pastry shop on my hotel's corner, Bread and Coco. I was there on Monday morning, when I enjoyed a coffee, orange juice (California-style?) and my all time favorite -- a chocolate pastry.

The flavors were just right and the place has a great Motown soundtrack.

Because of this exceptional experience, I returned. This time, I got the usual coffee and OJ but this time the main course was something different:

Floor pastry.

The conditions have to be right for a floor pastry to be made. Some of them are as follows:

Some jerk in front of you swoops in and steals the last chocolate pastry

Mind reeling, you grab some giant fruit-filled pastry

The giant fruit-filled pasty fits in the pastry envelope but doesn't leave room to fold the end over

The cashier rings you up for a bear claw

You receive your coffee without room for sugar

You only have two arms but three breakfast items, so you have to put the pastry in your Chrome bag

While trying to be a cool guy and put the pastry in your bag, it falls out of the pastry envelope, landing face-down on the floor under a table

But let's get you in on the ground floor of the floor pastry-eating experience.

The material of this particular item is akin to the particle board that comprised most of the furniture you had in college -- you attempt to cut it and get a few sizable bits but, in general, it crumbles all over the place.

In the end, the dirt people tracked in had a negligible effect on flavor.

Oh, and the fruit was blueberry.

Dancing Al Safa Hala Chicken Nuggets

2010-03-31T12:05:00.001-04:00

The Stinking Rose (A garlic restaurant): Silence of the Lamb Shank

2010-03-29T00:55:00.010-04:00

I recently found myself on a business adventure to San Francisco, so I relied on my trusty Nate's Plate tipsters for recommendations. The first one was for the Stinking Rose -- The Garlic Restaurant, and it was no bum tip.

I called on the walk over and the pre-recorded cheesy fake Italian voice. was promoting dinner reservations. When we arrived and saw all the people dining, as well as people hanging out in the lobby, I felt like a fool for not getting reservations, but my colleague Jason and I got seated right away.

The placed reeked of garlic upon entry, but I quickly adjusted and felt comfortable knowing I definitely wasn't dining in the vicinity of vampires. I was safe from getting my blood sucked on the way home too, because I caught a whiff of myself immediately upon return to my room. I was sure to use all of the 1.0-oz complimentary shower products the next morning.

But, back to dinner. The Stinking Rose offers a lot of wines, including what was being passed off as garlic wine (which I sadly didn't try), but I got the "large" Peroni. In Michigan, a pint is a large beer, but the large beer here is much larger than a pint, which could also be ordered. After receiving our large beers, Jason and I ordered and were served garlic bread. I went to the bathroom to "freshen up" and dinner -- the cleverly named Silence of the Lamb Shank -- arrived right as I returned to the table.

The dish is named so because it comes with a chianti-based glaze and fava beans ... get it? Any way, the lamb shank was just right -- moist tender and succulent, with no knife needed. The meat fell off the bone so easily that I finished the main course before I finished my beer.

After finishing my entree, I was perfectly, comfortably full and totally forgot all about the garlic ice cream dessert I had been anticipating. Blast! I need to go back for that.

Upon awakening the following morning, I was surprised that my mouth didn't taste like garlicky corpses like it normally would after such a clove-fest. How'd they manage to make garlic dishes so that the taste and odor don't stick to my tongue like white on rice? I did have a moment of panic when I got dressed and began to smell cooking odors, but it turned out to be the restaurant downstairs from the hotel and not me.

Nate's Plate definitely declares the Stinking Rose to be a San Francisco treat.

$7.99 Ikea ribs dinner combo

2010-03-24T21:19:00.006-04:00

Surprisingly normal.

For dessert, I suggest that you ...

Pacific Shrimp Tacos

2010-03-22T19:14:00.010-04:00

Dear Taco Bell,

I got the message. You really didn't have to call me out on national television, but I see how it is. I'll gladly respond to your invitation to eat and then blog the Pacific Shrimp Taco.

I assume you modeled your commercial after my life because you heard about the time I ate 93 shrimp. But, if you're going to spend all that money making a TV commercial can you at least put out a quality product? I wouldn't eat a pacific shrimp taco for $1.19, let alone $2.79! In fact, tonight's dinner consisted of two Pacific Shrimp Tacos and Two Volcano Tacos. The total price of $8.44 was the most I have ever spent on myself at Taco Bell in my life.

If you had played your cards right, this dinner combo could have been known as the Nate's Plate special until the end of days, but no.

You had to wrap the Mexican-seasoned shrimp in a soft shell. And you had to slather it in a tangy white sauce. Cheap seafood and mystery dairy products together?! I can't believe I drove all the way to the ATM just to get money for such a travesty.

I'll give you this, though: When I unwrapped the first Pacific Shrimp Taco, I did catch a whiff of "real" food ... something like Rio Wraps. And when my finger touched some of the orange sauce, it was delightfully spicy.

Captain's orders: If you must try the Pacific Shrimp Taco, pass on the sun-ripened mayo, and be sure to treat yourself to an XL Baja Blast. Otherwise, you can keep this one to yourself.

Grip & Sip. Slow Your Roll. Extreme Relaxation: A guest column

2010-03-02T08:37:00.009-05:00

Here's a guest column by Travis, the man who brought us the mystery sandwich.

This is a food blog, so I’m not going to waste your time ranting about the social and cultural consequences of glamorizing the recreational use of cough syrup. There are plenty of articles that do just that and I couldn’t care less if Lil’ Wayne openly drinks codeine. Provided he never tries to make another rock album, he can do whatever he wants (love you, Weezy).

Drank and Sippin Syrup are two relatively new products marketed as ‘the anti-Red Bull,’ a drink to calm and relax an increasingly stressed-out public. Suffering from a bit of anxiety myself, I was excited to find that 7-Eleven stores started carrying Drank. I bought a can on a particularly hungover Sunday morning a couple of months ago. The cashier warned me not to ‘drive on that stuff,’ but a visit to the parents was in order. My initial thought was that the taste was not unlike a light grape soda mixed with a little potpourri. Surprisingly good, actually.

I finished the can in a few minutes, not really considering the possible effects. By the time I arrived at the ‘rents I was overcome by a buzz similar to that of a waning weed high. I stared at the refrigerator at length before realizing the bottle of water I was looking for was right in front of me. I took a three-hour nap. The can promised 'extreme relaxation,' but I might refer to the effect as 'mild anesthesia.'

I’ve had Drank a few times since then. If you’re feeling stressed or looking for a good night’s sleep, it’s a nice occasional treat. I wouldn’t suggest drinking it every night, however, as one of its main ingredients is the same stuff your brain uses to tell your body when it’s nighttime. Probably don’t want to mess around with that too much.

In the other corner we have Sippin Syrup, a ‘beverage’ created in the same vein as Drank—same color, same philosophy, same inextricable link to cough syrup and southern rap. However, the discrepancy in quality between the two products is evident from the second you uncap the Syrup. I was blown away by the stench of bum wine as a good friend pleaded with me not to drink it. ‘IN THE NAME OF SCIENCE,’ I insisted. The night is a bit of a blur after that.

As I write this, a half-empty bottle sits on the table next to me, topped off with vague memories of headache and restlessness. Sippin Syrup tasted exactly how it smelled and it was only consumable small sips. It was more viscous than Drank. It didn’t make me any calmer and I’m pretty sure I forgot how to work the TV at some point.

I was given fair warning and ignored it. ‘Don’t drink that, it has to be full of arsenic. I want to vomit just thinking about it.’ Don’t repeat my mistake. If you want to experiment with these so-called relaxation beverages, make it Drank. Better yet, crush up a couple Benadryl in a glass of grape soda and achieve the same effect.

The Coffee Fairy

2010-02-22T09:04:00.014-05:00

Here's a special write-up by request of my coworker, and fellow Team Coffee member, Teresa N.

My first memories of coffee were of my dad making us all sit around at our table at the Olympic Coney Island restaurant, plates empty and napkins crumpled, while he finished sipping his coffee. I would always be annoyed and try to hurry him along.

After that, high school. The only place to hang out was the Coffee Bean and we'd sit there drinking off-white coffee filled with sugar for hours, then somehow manage to sleep like a rock that night.

Nowadays, when I'm at a greasy spoon I always have to order a cup of coffee, if only for tradition -- I get it now, dad! Day-to-day, my morning routine always includes my French press and a super-strong brew. It's more like having a mug of espresso than coffee, which is probably why I can never finish a cup before my drive to the office ends.

So, where do I get my beans?

The Coffee Fairy. He chooses only the finest beans that aren't available in your city and tends to deal with Intelligentsia.

Here he is now!

He lives in LA and occasionally appears in your local office with a bag of beans. If he is feeling especially inspired, he appears at your desk when you least expect it, holding a French press full of fresh brew.

This leads me to believe that he actually managed to smuggle a coffee grinder and French press onto an airplane. And when I say "leads me to believe," I mean this is probably not true but it is what I want to believe.

So how does one get a visit from the Coffee Fairy? Well, just like the Tooth Fairy brings you money after you lose a tooth, the Coffee Fairy brings you delicious freshly roasted whole beans when you lose access to deliciousness ... and after you've promised to buy a coffee grinder and French press.

Popcorn plus yeast = not so bad

2010-01-30T10:51:00.012-05:00

The now-famous Russ recently invited a few of us at the office to enjoy some popcorn topped with brewer's yeast. As someone who brews beer, I was anticipating a wholly gross experience, but yeast on popcorn actually tasted quite natural and oddly familiar.

In this video segment of Nate's Plate, you'll see me, Russ, Bridgette and camera-woman Jordan.

Skeezy celebs slingin' salads

2010-01-07T13:48:00.006-05:00

If you've met me, you know I am all for ridiculous advertising. However, I find myself questioning the new Carl's Jr. ad promoting salads by way of Kim Kardashian. It's not that I am not proud of the folks who pulled this off, because I truly am and would love to have clients that let me get away with something like this. It's because, to me, the ad doesn't really embrace ridiculousness enough. Maybe it's because I have not been keeping up with Ms. Kardashian. Or maybe it's because I feel like no one who has seen me eat a salad would ever want to have sex with me. What do you think?

Russ has amazing lunches

2010-01-07T11:54:00.011-05:00

What better way to return to Nate's Plate than by letting my friend Jordan do my work for me? I cannot escape Jordan. I met her while "interning" at Found Magazine. Then, she got a job across the street from the coffee shop I was known to frequent. Now, she works at the same fancy advertising agency as me. This means she also works with Russ, the man who brought us fried mung beans and sunberries. This makes Russ the most-featured man in Nate's Plate history. Jordan actually sits next to Russ and has noticed something about his lunches: They are amazing.

Dear Nate’s Plate readers,

I would like to tell you about Russ. He sits next to me and his lunches are amazing.

Sometimes I bring a sandwich. I feel rather proud of myself, because I made it. I put the condiment on the bread and it has at least two elements to it (a meat and a cheese). Sometimes, if it’s a ham sandwich, I will mix mayonnaise and Honeycup mustard. Then I feel like I am the greatest.

But this kind of satisfaction would never be enough for Russ, whose lunches come in at least three different containers. I asked him if he ever just eats a sandwich.

“On rare occasion, yeah,” he said. “Not often, though … I’m a huge fan of Zingerman’s sandwiches and that sort of stuff, but it’s hard to recreate that at home.”

Well la dee dah.

He claims that it’s because his dad bought some too-skinny bread when he was a kid and his sandwiches were always falling apart, but I don’t buy it.

I think that he just likes to rub it in my face that he gets to eat lunches like this one:

This lunch consists of homemade latkes, a delicious-looking homemade cookie bar of some sort, and a bean concoction that smells like a warm haven from the doldrums of winter.

This is my lunch:

This lunch consists of Meijer generic goldfish-like crackers, sugar-free hot chocolate, and lip gloss. And that isn’t even the original hot chocolate; I reconstituted the dregs on the bottom by adding more hot water.

Look at him, sitting at his desk by the window, smugly enjoying his satisfying bean concoction (that was quite possibly cooked by his wife, who does yoga but is not a vegetarian (update 06/2010: she IS). GOD, is there anything in Russ’s life that isn’t perfect?):

I'm thankful for "Thanksgiving My Way"

2009-11-25T07:36:00.003-05:00

If you're like me, and you don't like using navigation on web sites, here's a link to Thanksgiving My Way!

For my Thanksgiving, my parents and I are headed over to Jayme's parents' house. She'll be there too. So will her brother, two sisters, two dogs and maybe some other friends and significant others. There will not be ham, but I expect to have a few stories when all is said and done.

My friend has crepes!

2009-10-15T12:51:00.004-04:00

My colleague Euphenia, who comes to us from Hong Kong, is always showing up at work with delicious food she dreamed up herself, or found in some local restaurant I haven't even heard of. She used to work in our Chicago office, so it's fitting that she'd write a lil review about Icosium Kafe on Not For Tourists.

Check out her review. It might come in handy in the land where I first saw fixed-gear bikes and learned how uptight warehouse-party-throwing hipsters can really be!

Kids in Europe like pizza too

2009-10-01T14:48:00.004-04:00

European kids love "pitsa." You might know it by its American name, pizza. Popular toppings include tomatoes, mozzarella and anchovies.

Sunberries

2009-09-10T16:05:00.013-04:00

Sunberries. They look like the kind of berries that you're not sure you can eat until you see a bird eat one first. In other words, they look like poison berries. But they're not -- I made the guy who grew them in his back yard eat one before giving them to me. He didn't die, so it was my turn for some chomping.

Executive summary: Not only are sunberries not deadly, they're not gross.*

What? You want more details than that?

OK.

It's hard to describe sunberries, and I could probably describe them however I want to because I bet you'll never ever have your hands on them in your life. But since I am such an objective blogger, I'll throw you a bone.

Think of a nice sweet grape combined with a tomato without the acid. As they ripen, the tomato taste fades away. That in a nutshell, er grape peel, is the flavor of a sunberry.

They're like strange candy in odor and flavor, and would do well in packaged form if they had a nice waxy consistency like Starbursts.

I think I detected some mealiness, but it's hard to say since sunberries are so tiny. It might just be their tiny seeds that contribute to this mouthfeel.

This tininess also makes each one a little tease.

So, should you eat sunberries? Sure, if you know someone who grows strange things in his yard. If you're a confectioner, I'd recommend harnessing their flavor and using it to make some candy. It would have to be better than violet candy.

Disclaimer:
*I love all fruits and vegetables and eat raw tomatoes for a snack, so maybe I am biased.

Arnold Palmer is delicious

2009-08-14T11:27:00.006-04:00

Arnold Palmer makes the perfect non-boozy summertime drink, don't you agree? Sure, I could do without the artificial sweetener after-taste the canned variety leaves in your mouth, but that's not going to stop me from strolling down the street enjoying one, catching glances from people who think I'm drinking a tallboy. Better still, ordering an Arnold Palmer in a restaurant makes you look totally classy.

Speaking of classy, here's a can of Arnold Palmer that I once drank, sitting on top of a toolbox in my friend's front yard.

Fast fact for the unfamiliar: Contrary to pervasive rumors, this drink is no longer derived from Mr. Palmer's golf club palm sweat extract*. Today, it's half iced tea, half lemonade.

*This is a joke.

Eating during crunch time

2009-07-22T12:52:00.004-04:00

I've been working on a super intense project at work. Although working through the weekend makes it hard to tell what day it is, a big "plus" during times like this is all the free food. The expense accounts just open up and the Chinese food and tuna salad sandwiches keep rolling in. So do the snacks. See what I mean?

You might notice the following items:

Chinese food

Soda

Red Bull

M&Ms

Snickers bars

Skittles

Starbursts

Bottled water

Cups made from corn

Who knows?

It really is "crunch time." Pun intended.

Louisville dining

2009-07-13T20:35:00.030-04:00

Being from metro Detroit, it's always nice to get out and visit a functioning city with loads of interesting restaurants and friendly people. This past weekend, that city was Louisville. Why Louisville? It's home to Lebowski Fest. Need more reasons to visit Louisville? Ask an old woman. They always act gleeful when I tell them I have been there. Any hoo ... As always, I ate a lot. There were plenty of individual things I could have reviewed, but I was living in the moment so I will let these pictures do the talking.

Beer:30 Light. We stayed with my friend Brennen who is in charge of buying beer for Whole Foods. He gets to try a lot of interesting beers including this one, which he unfortunately isn't carrying in his store. I was told it is only sold in 30 packs. It really hit the spot because on the hot drive down, I was craving a cheap beer and this was the only one in Brennen's 'fridge that didn't require a special glass for proper consumption.

White Russians. The official drink of Lebowski Fest. $4.50 a pop. Last time I drank these in Louisville, they contributed to alcohol poisoning. This round was without incident.

Lynn's Paradise Cafe. This place was recommended to us by a friend back home. Brennen told us that you pay more for the experience than the food. When we got the bill, we saw that he was right, but both were damn good. Lynn's Bourbon Ball French Toast was featured on Throwdown with Bobby Flay, and that's what Jayme ordered. It was rich goodness.

Jayme with her Bourbon Ball French Toast.

My breakfast burrito. I'd never had one in my life. I actually really wanted some huevos rancheros and this was the closest thing on the menu. Not bad, but it got cold pretty quickly. Notice the coffee and $8.95 "gigantic" mimosa.

Inside Lynn's.

The grave of Colonel Sanders. It was an inspiring and emotional pilgrimage. We were told that the KFC around the corner has notoriously terrible service.

Lolita's Tacos. Yes, this is real. No, she is not open on weekends. Unacceptable. It was the first thing we noticed when we got off of the freeway. We were told the food is actually pretty good. 99-cent tacos can be had after 5:00 during the week.

The "Dippidy Do" at El Mundo -- An awesome Mexican place by the train tracks. Dinner here was actually cheaper than breakfast at Lynn's. We ate in the pebble-covered back yard. This appetizer consisted of salsa, guacamole, bean dip (all mine), and salsa verde.

Crispy pork tacos at El Mundo. Notice the bottom of the glass at the top of the photo...

... That glass contains a "Mango Stanger" -- A mango cocktail with pepper juice. It's delicious, with a slight burn in the throat. Drink, get burned. Drink to quench the burn. Get burned. Repeat. Delicious.

Mojitos at El Mundo. The biggest and best I've had. Note the Spanish-speaking adolescent in the background.

"ACE BLT" at Wild Eggs, a little joint in the suburbs with a big wait. The ACE is for Avocado, Cheddar (yes, I ate something with cheese), Egg. The Egg was over-medium, which is a terrible idea for something meant to be eaten with one's hands. All of the yolk went all over my hand with the first bite and my hand reeked for the six-hour drive home. The fresh-squeezed orange juice, however, was delicious -- and available in a pitcher.

If you go to Louisville for vacation, I definitely recommend eating food while you're there. While you're at it, go to Whole Foods, ask for Brennen and tell him to stock Beer:30 Light.

Choward's violet candy

2009-07-08T16:49:00.003-04:00

Since I sit by the awesometeria at work, I overhear a lot of conversations. One went like this:

Person A: "What is this?" She was holding up a shiny purple rectangular package.
Person B: "Some sort of candy. It's weird."
A: "How weird?"
B: "Scott brought it in."
A: "Ohhh."
Me: "Yeah it has to be really weird if Scott brought it in."

At this point Scott popped his head over the cubicle wall a few rows down, then sent me an "instant message" to inform me that he brought in some weird candy that I should review for the blog.

He sent me a link to the manufacturer's (Choward's) web site and when I clicked on it, I got a warning saying "Visiting this site may harm your computer." I closed the window.

This would definitely be weird candy. I had to eat it.

Office reactions upon first smell:
"It smells like a bathroom." - Katie
"A freshly cleaned bathroom." -Scott
"It smells like a bathroom and Play Doh." - Me

It definitely tasted like something I wasn't supposed to be eating ... like I was sucking on mom's potpourri, or possibly a scented candle.

Also, it looks like clay.

It tasted exactly like artificial flower smell in a way so intense that I couldn't even keep it on my tongue. I had to spit it out.

Why would anyone buy this?

I asked Scott.

There you have it: Good typography can be in "bad taste." *Ba-dum ch!*

Buffalo Sticks

2009-07-01T12:01:00.005-04:00

Just when I think I am going to be responsible and eat my packed lunch, someone goes and puts a bag of TGI Friday's "Buffalo Sticks" in the office vending machine. Despite the fact that I had a good idea what they were (Flamin' Hot Cheetos), the name still conjured up images of long-forgotten Native American delicacies.

I opened the bag and an odor came blasting out -- one that made me rethink my Flamin' Hot Cheetos hypothesis. It smelled kinda ranch-y (like the dressing, not poop on a farm). I extracted a curved, pockmarked red formation from the back and realized that it was more similar in consistency to a puffy Cheeto, and I wasn't sure if they made those Flamin' Hot. My research suggests they don't. It also suggests that Saddam Hussein loved puffy Cheetos -- yet another reason for me not to like them.

Would I have a reason not to like Buffalo Sticks?

Yes: Ranch dressing.

The first bite was tangy like the sun-ripened buttermilk used in ranch dressing. This rotting milk flavor is followed by the texture one would experience if one were to somehow dry out one of those foam packing stubs that dissolve in water. Next up is a warm sensation in the mouth that precedes a slight burn that diminishes in strength with each log consumed. The flavor "burnt" was also experienced.

If you're still having trouble relating, imagine mixing hot sauce with ranch dressing, allowing it to air dry and get crusty and then eating it.

This ranch dressing thing was really bothering me. I have a friend from Rochester, NY who claims that people in Michigan love ranch dressing and that we even say "ranch" funny. He has not experienced the ranch dressing phenomenon in his home state, and this news makes me long for greener pastures.

Furthermore, why add ranch flavor to the "buffalo" (do buffalo graze solely upon hot peppers?) flavor? Everyone knows that if you're a wuss, you need ranch dressing to cool your palette after eating some hot wings at the local Buffabro Wildchads.

There's not even a picture of ranch dressing on the bag. There is celery, but no celery flavor or celery-derived ingredients are present.

These buffalo sticks definitely missed the mark, but I finished the damn bag any way.

Video Pizza

2009-06-26T08:29:00.008-04:00

I have no idea if this is real, but I sure hope it is (and you probably know because you already saw it on YouTube last February). Sure, it's real in that you can watch it on the internet but, can you really order an hour-long DVD of a spinning pizza "with soothing sizzling sound effects" for $9.99 plus $5 shipping? Possibly yes, because if you click "BUY NOW" at http://videopizza.biz/, you are whisked away to PayPal.

Apparently this video adds the perfect ambience for your party if, you know, you and your friends like to party in the back of pizzerias ... like Domino's Pizza employees do.

Raise some money for me to buy this video with and we'll just see what happens when I give $14.99 to PayPal. If a DVD actually arrives at my house, I promise to write a full review.

This is a cake!

2009-06-23T15:45:00.001-04:00

Seriously.

That is a cake.

I ate part of the lid. It tasted like really hard frosting.

Flamin' Hot Funyuns

2009-06-02T10:54:00.005-04:00

It never fails. Just when Dave at the office starts bitching that I haven't updated (I was on an 11-day weekend, dammit!), I go to the vending machine in the kitchen and I'm presented with something like Flamin' Hot Funyuns.

The existence of Flamin' Hot Funyuns had been foretold to me by my friend Euphenia but, try as I might, I had not found them at any stores I regularly visit. I saw them at a party store by my old flat a while back but I was hanging out with my girlfriend at the moment and didn't feel like subjecting her to my vile breath. This is a courtesy I do not extend to my professional colleagues, so I peeled open the 35.4-gram bag, knowing that the cup of coffee I'd just finished was sure to make things interesting.

Flavor-wise, the bright red "Flamin'" powder seemed to cancel out the "onion" taste I love so dearly, but the exciting after-burn (not the kind you get in the bathroom) was definitely present. Perhaps the coffee was masking the flavor.

As I ate on, the Flamin' taste grew but the Funyun flavor did not. A similar experience is had when devouring Flamin' Hot Cheetos, and I imagine this can be said for anything else in the Flamin' franchise.

Because I know you're curious: Unlike Flamin' Hot Cheetos and their non-Flamin' siblings, the Flamin' Hot Funyuns don't leave sticky red residue on your fingers. That phenomenon seems to be related to the "cheese" powder. But I digress ...

There's really not that much to say here, and that's only partially because I am filling my face with spicy deliciousness. I would gladly eat the hell out of Flamin' Hot Funyuns. If you know me, you know that goes for regular Funyuns too -- When conditions are right, I have been known to eat a $2.99 bag of Funyuns, a king-size Snickers ice cream bar and a frozen Coke, after all.

A note to my generous colleagues: The "item" you left on my desk should appear here ~~next week~~ as soon as I feel like eating bugs.

Pool-side chicken nuggets in Vegas and more

2009-05-18T13:48:00.005-04:00

I went to Vegas for work last week -- A little competition called Camp Organic, which is loosely based on the seven sins. My team's sin, of course, was gluttony. I have been type-cast.

On the way there, I enjoyed a drink on a plane for the first time, thanks to a drink voucher from my friend Euphenia.

When we got to the hotel, I got a $16 margarita in a bikini-clad-woman-shaped glass by the pool.

Drinking in the hot sun made me really hungry, so I got some chicken nuggets. They were really expensive and cold by the time they arrived at my lounge chair. I didn't have enough cash on me after my pricey drink, so my friend Dave let me use his credit card. The scantily clad bartender asked for my ID and I told her I didn't have it because it wasn't my card ... it belonged to the big guy by the pool. I went to go get the ID from Dave and he didn't have it. Some guy that appeared behind the bar said this was "shady as fuck" but let me proceed any way. I told the bartender where I was sitting and she brought my nuggets about 45 minutes later after admitting they had been sitting around for about 10 minutes. The buffalo sauce covered the salmonella nicely.

Eating alone

2009-05-11T19:06:00.004-04:00

Tonight, as a 25-year-old, I ate alone in a restaurant for the first time in my entire life.

Sure, I've gone to coffee shops by myself, but that seems normal because you're supposed to look thoughtful with your weathered Sartre paperback or your MacBook.

But tonight, I ate a turkey burger and drank a Bell's Two-Hearted all by myself at the Emory in Ferndale. And it wasn't that bad.

I imagined it would be that bad, and more. As an only child I have had more than my share of "me time" so I don't really feel a need to seek opportunities in daily life to kick it by myself. When I have plans to meet friends somewhere and I show up first (which is every time) I feel really weird and like an asshole for sitting at a giant table all by myself.

Tonight, though, I NEEDED that turkey burger and no one was around. So after I took my Vespa on some errands, I climbed into that u-shaped booth to see what would happen.

First of all, like always, the server came by with two table settings. I placed my drink order and she brought it, then disappeared for some time. Apparently she just assumed I was waiting for someone. After all, I go to the Emory quite often and have never eaten alone in my life.

Eventually she came back to ask "are you okay?" (verbatim) and I said yes, I was flying solo and I would need a turkey burger to continue being okay.

Eating alone turned out not to be that bad.

I'm on my iPhone all the time any way, and tonight I learned that it wants to replace the word "doodles" with "doodies" (here's why I found out). Plus, there was no one around to swipe any of my aioli sauce.

And yes, the turkey burger was damn good. That's why I considered eating alone in the first place.

Sea Dog

2009-05-06T13:03:00.004-04:00

The brilliant combination of a fish stick and a hot dog bun. Thanks to Eric for the tip.

[Click the photo to see it in its not-cut-off glory ... stupid template]

Mountain Dew Throwback

2009-05-01T13:20:00.013-04:00

Note: This was written last Friday for the most part, so forgive the out-of-sync time element. - Nate

Sometimes everything in your life comes together "just right." Case-in-point: Last night, during NBC's Thursday prime time line-up, I saw a pretty-looking (and "groovy") ad for Pepsi Throwback. It played at least once per commercial break, or so it seemed.

I kept telling my girlfriend that I would have to try the stuff soon, but last night wasn't the night because we were headed to the midnight screening of Wolverine.

Fast forward to today: I found myself extremely exhausted and hardly able to digest the heavy tech specs I need to translate into a truck website, so I walked down to the kitchen to see what the vending machines had to offer. I almost went for plain old Mountain Dew, but then a familar-looking label caught my eye. It was the Mountain Dew logo of my youth, adorning a 20-ounce bottle of Mountain Dew Throwback. Sure, it's not Pepsi throwback, but I try to avoid Pepsi at all costs under normal circumstances.

The logo also reminds me of the era during which my youngest uncle was known to subsist on a diet of only Mountain Dew and Captain Crunch.

A quick side note: There are about three consecutive days every year during which time I crave Mountain Dew, and then I quickly get over it. Last week was that time for me in 2009. I sure hoped the natural sugar in Mountain Dew Throwback would be enough to win me over and convince me to finish the bottle.

Shortly after I opened the bottle that had been residing in slot C6 in the office vending machine, one of my oh-so-fun meeting marathons kicked off. Luckily for the first one, my role was minor so I had time to reflect on Mountain Dew Throwback (MDT from now on) and make some notes.

MDT definitely tastes different, and I would expect this to be even more pronounced if you are a person who Does the Dew on a daily basis. It's not as overwhelmingly sweet, thanks to the natural cane sugar used in place of high fructose corn syrup ("and/or sugar"). There is also not much of an aftertaste.

I, personally, am a fan of the cane sugar craze and I am known to use Sugar in the Raw in my coffee at Panera and I usually steal a few packets for use in my weekend coffee from the New York Bagel by my house. I'll also take this opportunity to tell you that I hate Splenda and if I see you using it, I will become slightly skeptical of you but we can still be friends.

Due to the turned-down sweetness, I could probably drink MDT more often, but the next question was, does MDT pack the same punch?

Well, it certainly got my anxious leg a-kickin' for my first meeting, but shortly into my second meeting I was nodding off as badly the time I fell asleep at a red light on my way to work this one time.

Anyway, Mountain Dew Throwback is (to me at least) more drinkable because it is less sweet, but it surely can't contend with midnight movie exhaustion, so it misses its target audience right there.

And I didn't finish the bottle.

The 7-11 Mutant Berry Slurpee: A guest post

2009-04-27T10:08:00.012-04:00

On Thursday, April 9, 2009 at 10:12 p.m., my friend Mike "tweeted" about wanting to know why 7-11 would create a Slurpee flavor called "Mutant Berry." I suggested that he review it for Nate's Plate and he agreed. I quickly forgot about this until last Friday when he asked for my email address so he could send me his review. I assume he got to sample the frozen treat at work since he photographed it next to a fax machine and he doesn't seem to be the kind of guy who owns a fax machine. What we have here is more of a sneak preview about the consequences of this concoction, which happens to be neon orange -- a color unaffiliated with any berry having regular genetics. Also noteworthy is the fact that he would "never!!!!" drink it again.

Armageddon is upon us. Why in God's name is 7-11 selling a Slurpee flavor titled "Mutant Berry"?? In a world of "EXTREME" beverages at my disposal with contents like Guarana (which NO ONE knows what it is, but I thought it's what you call bat shit), why would someone want to "mutate" a berry? The title of said drink is, in fact, accurate; it is like no flavor known to the natural world. It is a pomegranate / cherry / lime fusion that I can only describe as "the end of the world ... in a cup." 20 ounces of a frosty beverage that would scare Moses himself right out of his sandals. This is not a good sign of things to come ...

Get on down to 7-11 and let me know what you think. -Nate

Cock-flavoured soup mix

2009-04-23T17:08:00.003-04:00

... It's a link. Thanks again, Amber!

Jones' Good Ass BBQ & Foot Massage

2009-04-21T16:47:00.001-04:00

Something to hold you over until my next review ...

Thanks, Amber.

Someone out there really likes cilantro

2009-04-20T08:26:00.002-04:00

http://fuckyeahcilantro.tumblr.com/

The Ice Cream Dance

2009-04-15T08:26:00.003-04:00

Since you all told me on Facebook that you love when I post videos instead of eating real food, here's a music video about ice cream in the "Baltimore" music style.

Thanks, Rachel.

"Viral" videos for Domino's Pizza

2009-04-14T17:44:00.004-04:00

Call me a muck-raker. Blame it on the fact that I was too tired to eat anything exciting last night. Either way, here's this video of some jackasses messing with food in the back of a Domino's Pizza. This is particularly intriguing to me since I went to college in Ypsilanti, MI (here's a song about it) where the first Domino's Pizza was established.

This is certainly on topic for my "low-brow food" theme.

See more>

I have been eating like a pregnant woman

2009-04-07T10:47:00.008-04:00

I ate like a pregnant woman yesterday and the day before.

Sunday was a real throwback to my college days: I dusted my house and ate a late lunch consisting of a salad, picante chicken Ramen noodles, and some more deep-fried peanuts. I felt nauseous and had a headache. Then, for dinner, I had pizza, bread sticks, and two more salads. And I felt better.

Yesterday (Monday), I had a garlic bagel on my way to the office, some Andy Capp's Hot Fries at around 10 am, a Kashi Tuscan Veggie Bake for lunch, then a "hungry size" bag of pretzels, then a snickers bar. Dinner was Morningstar Farms simulated buffalo wings, followed by two leftover pancakes from Saturday morning. I felt nauseous and had a headache. Then I went to the grocery store and only bought healthy snacks for the rest of the week, like carrots, celery and roasted red chili pepper hummus.

This is why I didn't review the top-secret Canadian Doritos I recently picked up in Toronto.

This is a picture of a small piece of double-chocolate cheesecake with some gold flakes on it. It was served to me on a train from Toronto to Windsor, Ontario.

Sorry.

Uncle Bud's Deep Fried Peanuts

2009-03-31T22:56:00.002-04:00

As I was shopping at my local high-end grocer the other day, I noticed a new snack product on the shelf near the organic lettuce where I found Snapea Crisps: Uncle Bud's Deep Fried Peanuts. There were a few varieties available, and I chose "Hot." According to Uncle Bud, these are "so good you can et 'm SHELL-N-ALL" (capitalization courtesy of Bud himself).

Normally eating peanut shells would be quite terrible, but I was feeling adventurous. It was nearly 10:30 and I just had two beers, plus I was already in a mood for insomnia, so I figured "anything goes."

The first peanut, shell-on, was nearly flavorless and spiceless, minus the slightest hint of garlic. Perhaps the gum I had been chewing just 10 minutes earlier was interfering. I ate on.

Three peanuts in, the spice was barely growing. I was expecting to wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night with my innards on fire. It was time to try one without the shell. Luckily, many of the shells were split in half, just begging to be removed. Unfortunately, the minimal seasonings did not make it to the inner goodness, so the peanuts tasted plain, if not slightly altered.

Well, now I had a lonely shell sitting there, and I was not about to waste it. Once again, garlic, spice -- a little bit more this time, particularly at the rear sides of the tongue -- and weird peanut shell texture.

I ate the next peanut whole, and it tasted exactly like normal mashed potatoes. At this point, I was not sure what the hell was going on. The most exciting thing that happened during my snacking was the discovery of a single peanut in a single-peanut-sized shell.

Yet, somehow I ate on -- probably because these tasted a lot like normal peanuts, which are pretty damn good. And I did find myself eating them "shell n all" because the soybean oil must have softened the slightly charred shells up. Uncle Bud did one thing right, though: He found a way to get the spice to linger on the tongue for an extended length of time to increase snacking duration.

In a nut shell: You should buy these if you love normal peanuts, are lazy and have a low tolerance for spice.

The legend of Thunder Crunch

2009-03-24T09:01:00.003-04:00

Ah yes. Food package essays. They’re great because I know that if I am hungry for a delicious snack and I am having trouble making up my mind, I can just read a few paragraphs and make an informed decision. Here’s an essay found on the back of a bag of Alaska Chip Company jalapeño-flavored Volcano Chips that my beautiful and exciting girlfriend Jayme brought me from her trip to Alaska.

The essay gets even better when you replace the word “miner” with “minor” and my thoughts on the actual product follow it.

The Alaska Chip Story
People in the Matanuska Valley have long known the secret of Alaskan potatoes. Potatoes so full of crunch they aren’t grown, they’re mined [1]. Potato miners don’t seek the spotlight, you won’t see them in many headlines, they are searching for a potato so elusive, so robust, that many said it was just a story told by old sourdoughs[2, 3]. Some laughed at the potato miners, mocking their epic quest for a spud known only as “Thunder Crunch.”

For others, just hearing the words Thunder Crunch fills their hearts with fear. They blame the many earthquakes, aurora borealis and other phenomena in the Northland on these hearty vegetables [4, 5]. Some even said searching for the legendary spud should be banned, due to the many dangers involved.

In the spring of ’03, legend became reality when deep below the Matanuska Valley a rumble was heard that would forever change the way we think of chips. Thunder Crunch was discovered by the miners, and those unsung heroes have brought them to the surface to be enjoyed by everyone.

There are still those who fear the legend, but for the brave souls willing to reap the rewards of the potato miner, life just got a little better [6].

[1] Does “crunch” imply that they grow in caves, or tens of feet below the surface?
[2] This is a really great sentence.
[3] WTF is a “sourdough”? Is this really how they talk in Alaska?
[4] I thought there was only one Thunder Crunch.
[5] I thought potatoes were “tubers,” not vegetables.
[6] I disagree. Read on to see why.

The first thing you will notice about this product is its uncanny resemblance to a bag of Cape Cod Chips. I have not researched this further, but this can only mean two things: There is a chip company out there that only has factories in quirky geographic locations, or the Alaska Chip Company loves plagiarizing.

Any way, I was pretty excited about eating something with “volcano” in the name because I was such a huge fan of the short-lived Volcano Taco from Taco Bell. Although Volcano Chips were indeed delicious, the experience of consuming them was not entirely pleasant.

At first bite, they were immediately spicy, with a prominent and genuine jalapeño taste. The spice wasn’t too intense though, so the only eruption was my nose as the medium spice level caused it to run. I went through half of the 5-ounce bag (if not more) then told myself to go dormant [7].

Five minutes after consumption, there was a chive-like aftertaste in the back of my throat. This was nothing compared to the rumblings in my stomach. I was feeling nauseous and had a headache. It was like an instant hangover from the chips. I was actually dizzy. I needed a nap.

I suppose I can’t blame the chips entirely though. Prior to eating them, I had finished a breakfast which had included an “everything bagel,” a donut, some coffee and some hot chocolate.

So there you have it: Volcano chips taste pretty good, and I have terrible eating habits when I am at work.

[7] This is a volcano joke.

Alaskan reindeer sausage

2009-03-16T19:37:00.008-04:00

If you know me (and you probably do, because why would you be reading this if you didn't?) you might be aware that when I go on a road trip, I need two items with me: Pizzeria Pretzel Combos (The cheese snack of NASCAR) and some sort of dehydrated meat product. In light of recent events, I now know what I will be buying if I ever find myself on the road in Anchorage, Alaska.

My lovely girlfriend Jayme recently returned from a trip to Alaska, bearing goods both edible and otherwise. Despite her limited meat intake, she was kind enough to bring me an "Alaska Jack's Red Pepper Hunter Steak with Reindeer Meat."

After last week's sabbatical I knew my return to the blogosphere had to be really special. I could think of no better way to do that than by consuming some reindeer -- our friends who help Santa bring us gifts at Christmas!

I can't wait any longer ... Let me open my present!

Upon opening the package, which was thankfully incredibly easy to do -- unlike many kinds of jerky, my nose was filled with a rather typical "summer sausage" odor. And by typical, I mean 100% mouth-watering.

The sausage was about the size and color of an overdone 7-11 hotdog (normal ones were a childhood post-church staple for me) without the wrinkles. The rounded ends had been cut off, like a fat cigar ready to be smoked so the flavor lingers on your tongue for hours, no matter how many times you brush your teeth. I was hoping the flavor of Alaska Jack's hunter steak would stay with me for an equal period of time.

After one bite of the meat cylinder, the aforementioned desire for lingering flavor grew even stronger. The first taste tasted like your typical damn-good non-meal sausage. Then a slight burn developed, grew ever so slightly, and tapered off.

I have never tasted reindeer so I can't tell you how it affected the flavor. However, I feel 100% comfortable telling you that I wish this sausage had been two feet long. Perhaps I can persuade Jayme's vegetarian uncle in Anchorage to mail me a crate.

I guess the lesson here is that delicious food is key to brevity.

Food tattoos: A plate of shrimp

2009-03-05T12:42:00.002-05:00

As seen on a fellow Moped Army member.

Point of sale genius marketing: NOH Hawaiian iced tea

2009-03-03T10:36:00.006-05:00

Once upon a time, I was invited to a "shrimp and white wine party" with some friends. On the way to the party, we stopped at the store to get a shrimp tray and I noticed something in the checkout aisle: NOH Hawaiian Iced Tea. Their slogan is "Say yes to NOH!" and that's exactly what I did. Its placement combined with the tagline made it ideal for point of sale impulse purchases.

NOH sat on the counter in my kitchen for a month. I knew I was going to write about it, but lately I have had higher priorities than drinking a pouch of iced tea. After crawling exhaustedly into bed to read at around 8:30 last night with no pending review, I knew I'd be consuming NOH this morning.

To me, NOH smells familiar but not like iced tea. It smells like weird oatmeal or something. But maybe I am wrong, since my friend Erika who bought NOH for the exact same reasons as me claims it smells like regular instant iced tea to her. Maybe we're both right and instant iced tea always smells like weird oatmeal regardless of whether or not it came from a volcanic island.

"Weird oatmeal" does not really do this iced tea justice though. Why? NOH is damn good, and probably refreshing too. I didn't even have to add sugar, since cane sugar is already in the mix. The package says you can even alter how much water you use "for personal taste" -- how intimate.

There's nothing remarkable about the flavor (as in "a slight hint of volcanic ash is what really makes it") but it's remarkable that I want to drink a gallon of this stuff on a frigid March morning. The variety I bought is lemon flavored, so it tastes fairly close to an Arnold Palmer Iced Tea, one of my summer staples, which is probably why I am saying "yes" to NOH.

And in case you are curious, I have no idea what NOH stands for.

Nannerpuss

2009-02-27T12:28:00.006-05:00

I know this is old news and you've already seen it, but I really have to acknowledge how much I love the Denny's "Nannerpuss" commercial.

The Perlorian Brothers, the guys who made it, are obviously geniuses and I would probably take a job from them if they offered it to me. Just sayin'.

Burger King Burger Shots (A guest post from down Texas way)

2009-02-23T13:57:00.016-05:00

One day my friend Matt, resident of Austin, Texas and finalist in the High School Lunch Memories Contest, sent me an "instant message" to tell me that he was surprised that I had not yet reviewed Burger King's Burger Shots. I replied that I was also surprised and I thought that he would also be a good man for the job. He agreed, so here you have it. By the way, this is Matt:

Living about a block away from a Burger King, and being without cable television, I first learned about BK Burgershots from the illustrious block letter marquee fixed underneath the Burger King sign. I initially envisioned some horrid burger-in-a-cup scenario; online research revealed these burgershots to be the far tamer threat of bite-size burgers. Burger King is no stranger to questionable names: witness the Angry Whopper or Croissan'wich. An infrequent fast-food consumer, I am nonetheless drawn in by all things gimmicky, and I knew I needed some of these tiny sandwiches.

Little Lady Laura and I stopped in for lunch today. I ordered a six-pack of burgershots and a four piece chicken tender, she ordered a whopper. We both got fittingly tiny plastic cups for water. The flat panel television was playing Disney's High School Musical, keeping up the theme of digestable, disposable flash-in-the-pan pop garbage. But here, I'm being too hard on the little guys.

They were perfectly adequate miniature representations of the standard BK burger: meat, cheese, two pickles, ketchup and mustard. The patties featured the ubiquitous grill-marks (I think Burger King would put char marks on the soda, if they could), belying the microwave prep I see every time I order here. One disturbing fact: the burgers are connected, joined at the patty, and the box encourages a "tear-and-share" method of dispersal, as if you and and a friend were only really hungry enough for 1 oz of meat a piece.

The box/product appeared to be sponsored by Heinz Ketchup, apparently "the only ketchup fit for a king". The paragraph on the other side of the box stated that these mini burgers were "designed to move", though I'm not sure how much more handy or aerodynamic they are than a regular hamburger, especially with their siamese-twin attachment. As a comparison, I snuck a few bites of the Little Lady's Whopper while she was in the restroom, and the cornocupia of veggies, sauces, and more substantial meat beat the pants off the burgershots. They were never intended for this sort of competition, though, and for what they are they elicited a not-condescending "meh" from both the Lady and myself.

Again, perfectly adequate carbon copies of the standard hamburger. Not really enough of a taste sensation for me to order again, though I am keen to try the breakfast shots. What can I say? I'm a sucker for tiny hamburgers. One final note: these are not sliders. Sliders sometimes have greasier buns and "special" sauce, but they always have grilled onions, which were sadly missing from the burgershots. This is what separates them from White Castle or the immortal Bates Hamburgers of greater Wayne and Livonia.

Bacon Jam vs. Baconnaise in BJBALT form

2009-02-17T19:52:00.024-05:00

This one goes out to the Onion AV Club Taste Test team, who always gets the first bite of bacon derivatives. Chew on this!

Before we ruin our appetites, a little background is in order. I first heard about Bacon Jam in a post on a completely irrelevant message board. It was being sold by some scooter shop out west that was charging something like $14 for shipping. Being the occasionally wise consumer, I Googled "Bacon Jam" and was able to order it directly from the source -- Skillet, a roving diner in Airstream Trailer form out west. What will the Starbucks-addled minds of the Pacific Northwest think of next?!

Bacon Jam. It sweats through its own jar. Looks like cat food and smells like beef jerky. Perfectly suitable as a bacon substitute for a BLT. Right? Well ...

Bacon in non-strip form certainly has this going for it: If you put it on a sandwich, that sandwich will be very easy to cut in half, and you don't have to worry about failing to chomp through it and bringing an entire strip along with your bite. Of course, the tradeoff is that there is no crisp bacon crunch.

So, how does Bacon Jam taste? I had some friends come over to Nate's Plate HQ to tell me just that.

We made some "BLTs" using Bacon Jam as the meat, and Baconnaise (Kosher and vegetarian, from the people who brought us Bacon Salt) instead of regular mayo. I even got fancy and put avocado on them because the grocery store I went to sells avocados and tomatoes next to each other (clearly a display marketing genius's finest work). Sourdough was the bread of the evening. For the sake of accuracy, these sandwiches will be referred to as BJBALTs (Bacon Jam, Baconnaise, Avocado, Lettuce, Tomato).

The orange stuff is Baconnaise and the brown stuff is Bacon Jam.

The sandwiches were washed down with the nectar of the gods known as Magic Hat #9. If it wasn't for the fact that I'm not a big drinker, there is a good chance this stuff would turn me into an alcoholic.

Here were reactions to the first two BJBALTs:

Stacey
"In some ways this is superior to a regular BLT."
"I'm not really tasting the Baconnaise" (this one will prove to be untrue).
"When you told me about Bacon Jam, I was expecting a gelatin with chunks of bacon suspended in it ...(Instead) it's like a paté."

Me (internal monologue)
"This is pretty good. Not quite normal, but I would definitely eat this again." I didn't even notice that the bacon texture was missing.

Logan
"It kinda tastes like a cheeseburger. Like a Wendy's Jr. Bacon to be specific."
"When I first heard the term Bacon Jam, I almost threw up a little. But you get the lettuce and tomato consistency and forget about the jam."

At this point, Logan wanted a second BJBALT even though both Stacey and I swore he had previously said he was not much of a BLT fan. He claims he said he just wasn't a tomato fan. As round two was being prepared, Amber, bacon fan supreme, arrived toting an electric griddle that she generously bestowed upon Nate's Plate HQ.

The second course was served soon enough and it proved to be quite enlightening.

Amber
"I don't really taste bacon."
"I don't taste bacon at all and I just had a BLT yesterday so the taste is fresh in my mind."
"The texture is like a tuna sandwich."
"I want real bacon"

As for me, I was discovering that something about the BJBALT was seriously wreaking havoc on the taste of my Magic Hat #9 and that is a major offense. I was beginning to realize that this was not a substitute for actual bacon.

Stacey disagreed. Then, we decided to evaluate Bacon Jam and Baconnaise on their own by spreading them onto tiny pieces of bread -- a course of action that would soon make her realize the error of her ways.

First up: Bacon Jam. Descriptors included "ham salad" (think deviled ham in a chicken salad-like concoction) and "vaguely smoky." Everyone agreed that some sort of sweet onion seemed to be an ingredient.

The only ingredients listed on the Skillet Street Food site are: Rendered "really really good bacon," "a bunch of spices," onions and "etc.," which I believe is like MSG.[1]

How about Baconnaise, the intended condiment? It proved to be responsible for the earlier falsely perceived success of Bacon Jam.

Stacey summed it up best saying, "The only reason I thought that it tasted like a BLT was the Baconnaise."

Pushing Baconnaise farther up the deliciousness totem pole is the fact that while both it and Bacon Jam have to be ordered online, Baconnaise arrives in mere days while Bacon Jam takes weeks.

This is not to say that Bacon Jam is a complete failure, though. Perhaps it's not even meant as a bacon replacement, but as a new kind of bacon product, filling a niche that few of us knew existed. To this end, Bacon Jam will next be evaluated on its own to better assess its ideal use, so stay seated and don't throw your napkin away just yet.

[1] This is a joke. Back up to the article.

Bacon Jam ... Take a whiff

2009-02-17T11:13:00.005-05:00

What comes in a jar that sweats bacon, looks like cat food, and smells like the moistest beef jerky ever? Bacon Jam! Some friends came over to Nate's Plate HQ last night and sampled Bacon Jam AND Baconnaise using a new interpretation of the BLT. Part one of our analysis goes live tonight, so be sure to keep your eyes on the hot social networking sites and RSS feeds for when dinner is served.

Oh, and to the Onion A.V. Club Taste Testers: How does it feel to get scooped?!

Homebrewing adventures: Pale chocolatey stout part three -- Bottling day!

2009-02-10T09:07:00.016-05:00

I have to confess something. Last week, when I wrote that I was never going to write about homebrewing on a Tuesday, I was lying. I have a bunch of really good excuses too! Plus, I got an email yesterday saying something sure to stimulate the arteries was shipped to my house and it will definitely make up for this.

But what's more important is that 49 bottles of pale kinda chocolatey stout are now carbonating in bottles in a basement in Redford, Michigan. The best part is that the beer smells like Count Chocula. A non-carbonated room-temperature taste test indicates a mild chocolatey, sort of creamy flavor with very little hop bitterness. If our calculations are right, it's around 6% alcohol. Oh and we're probably going to call it Count Chocustout.

Sanitize your bottles (no twist-offs!), bottling bucket, racking cane, bottling wand, etc. Properly sanitizing everything ~~is a huge pain in the ass and wastes tons of our precious time~~ takes patience and is a very important step!

Syphon the beer from the carboy into the bottling bucket, which in our case is the "deluxe" fermenter. See how much beer you can spill on the floor.

Here's the bottling wand. It has a flimsy valve in the bottom that likes to stick, giving you more opportunities to spill beer on the floor. It's also nice because your hands will smell like beer for about 12 hours after you use this.

The bottling wand in action. Pretty exciting. Leave 1.5 inches or so of air at the top of the bottle when filling it.

Cap your bottles with this device that looks sort of like a Snood character with long arms. Make sure that you've sanitized your caps and you have more caps available than bottles in case some of them get messed up.

Take a little sample while you're at it.

Look for a review of my own beer in the coming weeks.

True breakfast fans only

2009-02-05T09:56:00.010-05:00

If you love the Eggwave (or Egg McMuffins) and you're hip to the cool internet sites, you should probably become an Eggwave fan on Facebook.

Cheers to Amber, proprietor of the wasting-away skinny dudes blog, for making the page!

The Super Broker Shuffle

2009-02-03T11:53:00.007-05:00

Here's another chart-topping rap about food. These aisles of rhymes about hot deals are truly infectious. Thanks to Jimmy Ohio for the tip!

Mung Crunch! (Fried Mung Beans: Colleague's Cookin' Special Edition PART 2)

2009-02-03T09:25:00.011-05:00

You may recall that I reviewed a colleague's fried mung beans a while back. Here's his long-awaited write-up and recipe. And by "long awaited," I mean it has been sitting on my computer for months waiting for me to post it. Here's what Russ has to say.

In these difficult economic times I feel the need to make the most of everything in our cabinets. This has involved making use of a variety of questionable purchases that have been lying around for months. Possibly the most perplexing was the 3 lb bag of mung beans I found underneath the Halloween candy. Much like the whole dried hot peppers and can of chopped clams this must have been a “seemed like a good idea at the time” purchase from the Indian grocery store.

My only previous experience with mung beans was a quote from The Office about said beans “smelling like death," as seen here.

The best part of this video is that it is as much about Crazy Train as it is mung beans. The quote is at 1:30 wait for it… wait for it…

As I found while frying them, they do indeed smell like death. My wife actually got sick to her stomach from the smell. As with just about any food once they are fried and salted they are delicious. My recipe is below.

Mung Crunch
250 g mung beans (8 oz.)
1 tb Vegetable oil
Salt to taste
1. Just soak the mung beans overnight. Drain them and dry thoroughly.
2. Fry in vegetable oil over a moderate heat, turning frequently, until they are browned and crisp - between 5 and 10 minutes.
3. Drain on kitchen paper towelling, sprinkle with salt, and cool. They store very successfully in airtight jars.

Homebrewing adventures: Pale chocolatey stout part two

2009-02-03T09:13:00.007-05:00

Last weekend (the 25th), we decided to transfer the beer into the secondary fermenter. It definitely smells like alcohol now, so that's a fun surprise. As you can see in the last photo, it's quite pale for a stout. Note from the editor: The stats in my Google Analytics account tell me that you guys aren't really into these beer brewing tales, so they'll no longer be Tuesday features -- just a little something extra.

Siphon the beer from the primary fermenter into the "carboy" (secondary fermenter). This usually takes a few tries and you're guaranteed to get some partially fermented beer on the floor. Get a dog to lick it up.

Yeast sludge in the bottom of the "deluxe" primary fermenter. Perhaps we should have made some Vegemite with this.

The carboy all full and sealed up with the air lock. This lets the beer continue fermenting without sitting on a bunch of yeast sludge.

See Homebrewing adventures part one >

Zipfizz, the miracle placebo hangover cure

2009-01-27T08:28:00.005-05:00

I wrote this on a Sunday morning after being out until 4 a.m. so please disregard all time references.

Zipfizz engergy drink mix is an orange powder that comes in an orange tube (dubbed a test tube by its makers) that my friend Stacey got for free from a local liquor store. She got it for free because she inquired about what the hell it was. The cashier apparently told her he had no idea and that she should have some for free. Obviously, this mystery tube had to be consumed immediately, if not sooner.

I had actually reviewed Zipfizz once before, and it was a damn good review. When it came time to publish, however, the draft had vanished from my computer. The folder it had been in even contained a file icon for it that became invisible when I clicked on it. Not being one to give up easily, I got my hands on another tube (AKA Stacey felt bad for me and gave me her second test tube of it). Then, that tube disappeared before I could review it. Lucky for me, one of my cat's treats slid under the oven this morning and when I went to extract it for him, I found the missing tube. I knew I had to review it soon, but I told myself I was too sleepy and hungover to do so today. Then I realized -- This was the perfect moment in which to put Zipfizz to the test!

After some hesitation, I once again mixed the tube of "healthy energy" orange soda flavored powder into 16 - 20 ounces of water, taking note that I should not consume more than three tubes today in case I somehow managed to get my hands on more.

The powder reacted in a couple minutes, leaving some stagnant nuclear orange liquid, topped wth some even brighter foam, in my drinking vessel (a mason jar some spaghetti sauce had come in). The liquid was not fizzy at all -- quite the disappointment. The taste was actually not that bad and it reminded me of either weak orange soda mixed with something creamy, or watery Sunny D.

The flavor, however, is but one piece of the puzzle here. The test tube promised me healthy energy and I would settle for nothing less. As I sipped away, I reacquainted myself with this special health powder.

I felt extra glad to not be a child, a pregnant woman, a person who is sensitive to caffeine or a person with a health problem, because if I was, Zipfizz would not be recommened to me. Things being as they were, however, I was able to enjoy the Zipfizz proprietary blend, which is as follows:
L-Arginine
Caffeine from guarana seed extract
L-Taurine
Alpha-Lipoic Acid
Grape seed extract
Green tea leaf extract
American Ginseng root extract
Ginger root

Ah, the good stuff. And it seemed to be working, though whether or not that was due to the famed placebo effect was unclear (this is what I had discovered during my last experiment with Zipfizz). I can't say I'd urge you to run out and get your hands on a tube, but Zipfizz was with me when my hangover subsided and that counts for something.

Homebrewing adventures: The first ever pale (and kinda chocolaty) stout

2009-01-19T10:14:00.019-05:00

Once upon a time in a land far far away (Ypsilanti, MI), my roommate and I decided we needed to start brewing beer in our apartment. So one Saturday morning, we ventured to the supply shop, bought a bunch of equipment and an "everything you need in one box" kit to make some Oktoberfest. It turned out pretty well, minus the fact that we added too much water, thus creating the first ever "Oktoberfest Lite." As we brewed successive batches of different beers, we became more confident, and experimented a bit. There was debate about which of our beers was the best -- Ian liked one because it tasted like apples, but I told him that was because we probably didn't disinfect everything properly and contamination can lead to an apple-y taste (this is true).

Our last (failed) endeavor was to make a chocolate stout. We went to the store to get what we needed, forgot to grab some things, and then the bags of grain broke open in the parking lot and a surprising amount of grains went into my shoes. We soon moved out of that apartment and went our separate ways, with Ian keeping the cat in exchange for me keeping the brewing equipment.

Over the past two or three years every time we got together, we'd say "we should brew some beer soon." Well, we were just spewing hot air -- until this weekend. Our brew features chocolate malt, and LOTS of pale malt extract, so we expect it to be light in color and heavy in alcohol. Here's what happens on homebrewing day one (and look for progress updates over the coming weeks).

Steep the grains in the sock thing (don't use a real sock, please) until the water reaches 170º. There are two gallons of purified water in the pot.

Add the malt extract once the water has boiled, then wait 'til it begins to boil again. It will probably boil over at least three times.

Add bittering hops then boil for 55 minutes while stirring incessantly so that sticky malt sludge doesn't burn onto the bottom of the pot.

Add finishing hops and boil for five more minutes.

Cool rapidly to 70º. We have not successfully cooled the wort (pre-beer stew) rapidly, ever. And no, we usually don't leave the lid on. We just didn't want a squirrel to get in there.

Add three more gallons of purified water to the wort in the fermenter. The prior two gallons have boiled down significantly. Add the yeast.

Use a hydrometer to determine the wort's "original gravity" to help determine alcohol content later on. Now you know what the "high gravity" comes from on your favorite malt liquor's label. And yes, you can see "Homebrewing for Dummies" here.

Seal up the "deluxe fermenter" and secure the airlock. Be nervous that it's not going to work until it starts bubbling the next day, then call your friends and brag.

See Homebrewing adventures part two >

A Taco Bell dream wedding

2009-01-13T12:36:00.003-05:00

It's like a glimpse into my future! Thanks to Angel R. for the tip.

An Angry (and confused) Whopper

2009-01-09T09:34:00.021-05:00

When people ask me what an Angry Whopper is, I explain to them that an onion was abused with spices and other devious measures during its formative days in the soil and is here for revenge, or at least that's what my TV tells me. What doesn't make sense about this (among many things) is that half of the onions on the Angry Whopper had no detectable spice. The jalapeños sure did though, and boy is there a lot of ~~mayo~~ Angry Sauce.

Oftentimes in our lives, confusion makes us act out in anger. In the case of the Angry Whopper, I am just confused. Sure, it is delicious (no small feat for the vaporized grease pushers at Burger King), but I don't really feel like I "know" the Angry Whopper. I have consumed one on two separate occasions -- One with a meal, and one as an a la carte sandwich for the whopping big price of $4.02 -- and I still don't get it.

Some bites of the Angry Whopper taste exactly like its well adjusted Whopper sibling, which makes sense since the receipt I was given reads 1 SC WHOPCHZ 3.89 PLUS ANGRY(!) 0.60. Others treat you with the sweet burn of jalapeños. My virgin bite of an Angry (I'll call it this for brevity's sake for here on out) tasted completely normal and I found myself wondering if I had been slipped the wrong burger or if I had developed an extremely high tolerance for spice. As I ate on, randomly placed jalapeños added some hot surprises with intensity that grew stronger as the burger diminished. Bite to bite, though, the experience is hardly consistent, which I suppose is true of anger itself.

It's worth taking a look at the Angry's ingredients, in prioritized order as seen on the Burger King web site.

Angry Onions: The first time I ate an Angry, I was convinced that the "spicy onions thing" was a total lie. The only angering thing about them was that they suffered from that problem you have with onion rings where you take a bite and the onion comes out, leaving a fried shell behind. During my second Angry experience, I hand-picked an Angry Onion for solo consumption. The first bite tasted like the onion ring nub it resembled, but the second bite actually had some spice. Confusing!
Jalapeños: It's hard to mess these up. They're spicy and sweet with a burn that increases as you eat more of the Angry. My only complaint is that their haphazard placement leads to inconsistent heat.
Pepper Jack Cheese: My friends know that I hate at least 88% of the cheese on the market. For a pure taste test, I left the cheese on and it either is completely flavorless, is pretty damn good, or is masked by all of the other "fixins."
An Angry Sauce: I was convinced that my first Angry was just topped with plain old mayonnaise. So were my hands, my face and my notes. The sauce was everywhere and I wasn't even recklessly chomping. After I was told about "An Angry Sauce" (why "an"?????) I made sure to take note of it during my second spiral into anger. As far as I can tell it tastes like sweet BBQ sauce.

For some reason, Burger King does not highlight the fact that there is bacon on this thing. Perhaps it's because there is barely any present. When I first looked at the Angry, before eating it, I thought I saw a piece of bacon. But as I continued to eat, I was convinced that I had seen a funny-looking onion. My notes even say something like "I thought a piece of onion was a piece of bacon. Fail." Later on, I discovered a two-inch strip of bacon. There definitely needs to be better bacon coverage on the Angry.

So, after we've all calmed down and had some time to think, do we care enough about the Angry Whopper to forgive its quirks? Absolutely. It's fast food, so it's imperfect but absolutely delicious.

Grill skillz: 1980's Wendy's hamburger training rap

2009-01-08T16:04:00.009-05:00

Continuing the spirit of food-inspired raps, here's one about burgers. Apparently it's a an '80s Wendy's training video. Thanks to Amber for the tip! Remember kids, "it should be gray and moist to be correct."

Part one starts sizzlin' at about 01:40

Part two'll flip your patties around 02:30

The Lemonhead Song (So Damn Good)

2009-01-06T09:19:00.013-05:00

This fall, my friend Rachel sent me a music video, telling me that it was made in Detroit. After about 30 seconds, I knew I was going to have to interview Dave Chaney, the genius behind the Lemonhead Song. I met one of his friends at a party and gave her my email address so he could get in touch, but I apparently wrote it down wrong. I caught up him on Facebook last week and he had been trying to email me since September, so I shot some questions his way. Red Lobster is his favorite restaurant, so he obviously has great taste (I once ate 93 shrimp there). Here's what he had to say about eating Lemonheads every day.

Do you like lemon in general, or just Lemonheads? Lemon Jolly Ranchers? Mike's Hard Lemonade? Do you clean your house with Lemon Pledge?

Ummmmmmmmm. FORGET everything else I love LEMONHEADS! LOL. They are the best sensation to my mouth. The candy has the best sour to sweet transition ever. The texture is well defined and I almost pissed on myself when I tasted the chewy lemonheads for the first time.

What did your friends think when you told them about the Lemonheads Song / video?

They weren't even surprised. Lol. I'm always up to something random. So when I told them they were anxious to see it. People actually tell me it's a nice video and that it would make it on real T.V.

How long did the song exist before you decided to make a video?

The song was produced well over a month before the video came out. Matter of fact, Tommie Green didn't even want to shoot a video for the song; he thought it was a stupid idea. The first scene of the music video actually happened.

Is the video filmed all in Detroit?

Of course. I didn't travel for that video. Tommie Green, the director/CEO of WhiteWood wanted to shoot it all in Detroit. Most of the video was filmed in my basement. The rest was in a very uncivilized area in Detroit and at the studio I recorded the song.

Who made the music for the song?

Rawtalent Productions. Thanks for spending those long hours in the studio helping my non-rapping ass. Check them out at www.myspace.com/therealrawtalent

How did you come up with the Lemonhead Hawk?

I made a video about going to war with people that nag about me eating lemonheads so much. It's called Lemonhead Helmet (I'm ready for war). In the video I wear a helmet made of lemonhead boxes and I have a knife. I go on explaining how I will call among the "Lemonhead Hawk" to guide me in my journey. LOL!! I don't know man, it's completely ridiculous.

Do you have other songs about food? I saw another Whitewood video about "Throw some cheese on that beef (just bought a Big Mac)." Is food a popular thing with Whitewood?

No, the Lemonhead Song is the only song I wrote about food. I wrote another song about the word SHAMAKAKAKA and one about poking a nicca(stabbing with a knife)lol. You have to watch more of my videos if you don't understand. Throw some cheese on that is a mock of RICH BOY'S "throw some D's". I'm not really sure why he chose to talk about a burger but I know that's one of our most popular video. Rich Boy himself added that video as his favorite on Youtube. Food isn't a popular thing with Whitewood, we just try to film what people want to see and hear.

Do you actually eat Lemonheads every day?

Yes I do!.....LEEEEMOOOON HEAAAADSS THEY ARE SO DAMN GOOD, I EAT EM EVERYDAY!!!!!

How long have you been eating Lemonheads for?

Maaaaaaaaann!!! I've been eating lemonheads before I started growing pubic hair. LOL...ummm so about 16 years.

Do any of your friends share your passion for Lemonheads?

Yea, some of my friends tell me they started eating lemonheads because of me. I have fans that write me about their passion for lemonheads, but I think it is all for my attention. lol

Do you have a Lemonheads tattoo? Would you get one?

I thought about getting a tattoo of a lemon actually. Then I thought about it again and told myself "I'm not THAT crazy" lol.

I saw you made a Lemonheads necklace in the video. Have you made other Lemonheads art? Have you ever used them in cooking?

Yea, I made that Lemonhead Necklace specifically for the Lemonhead Song Music Video. I hate to admit that it's gone now; it was eaten up by some ants...lol. (Don't leave candy hanging around in your room). I made a girlfriend, a bracelet, a pair of sunglasses and a gun out of Lemonhead boxes. Cooking? No, I usually consider a box a lemonheads breakfast though...

What are some other foods / restaurants you like? Would you ever try 7 Mile Shrimp Palace?

I love Mexican food and sea food. Red Lobster is my favorite restaurant and no I wouldn't try 7 mile Shrimp Palace (lol). It probably taste just as awful as the other shrimp they serve on 7 mile. I stay on 7 mile by the way.

Is there anything else you'd like to add?

Well look out for the second episode of the Lemonhead Show, the Poke a Nicca music video and I have another song coming soon.

Announcing the winners of the High School Lunch Memories Contest

2008-12-29T23:12:00.016-05:00

After careful consideration, I have chosen the winners of the Nate's Plate High School Lunch Memories Contest. Why winners and not winner? Each of the following stories were fantastic for completely different reasons. Coincidentally, they were submitted in the order in which I am honoring them. So, Alia, John and Matthew: Get in touch and we'll make some dinner reservations.

Bronze award: The mayo bet, by Alia.

Brief, well written and hilarious, I was quite sure this would be a winner when it was submitted.

"During my sophomore year, Art Anderson was in a bet that he could eat a whole jar of mayo. Since he is the ultimate human of all time, he took the challenge at lunch. He got half way done with this jar of mayo and then our not so ultimate principle paid him to stop which was a bummer... but I think she actually paid him more then he would have won through the bet (which was 5 dollars if I recall correctly) which is even better."

Silver award: The school store is "the Pits," by Matthew

This is a trip down memory lane because Matthew and I went to high school together.

Ah, high school. I remember eating on the floor of a large dusty landing and listening to the suicide machines on a tape player that looked like an answering machine while Andrew Miller jumped down the stairs repeatedly.

When I purchased actual food, which was rare, it was usually a piece of pizza with the flavour and consistency of modeling clay and an apple juice with a foil lid that always managed to find new ways to spill all over my pants. Most of the time though, it was three chocolate chip cookies.

Three glorious, gooey, tooth-rotting freshly baked cookies for a dollar, shoveled into a bag gone translucent from the fat and pure awesome they contained. Quite often these cookies would clump together, and you would be forced to pick at the edges before finally manning up and confronting this absurd, half-baked brick of semi-solid goo. It was impossible for me to eat this brick without smearing chocolate all over my zit-pocked face and billabong hoodie in full view of the cute, popular girls who hung around the Salem School Store. Not that they were paying any attention to me, instead making googley-eyes at the meatheads behind the counter with their hooters t-shirts and downy soft whispers of goatee.

One time I decided to venture to the Canton building (my high school, and Nate's high school, and possibly your high school was actually two high schools on the same campus) to see what sort of mysterious and exotic cookies they peddled. Turns out they were the exact same cookies, albeit sold in what resembled a holiday inn gift shop next to a useless set of stairs to nowhere everyone called the pit. I think people hung out there because they felt they had to. Anyway, I had not idea how to procur cookies at this location. Being incredibly shy and awkward, I conveyed my need for sugar and empty calories through mutters and frantic stares, but the meatheads remained unresponsive. Inwardly furious, I got out of there as fast as I could, striding in speedy shame back to Salem in order not to be late for art class. Having missed my fix, I bought a bag of cookies during passing time and ate them so quickly they made me sick and my stomach loudly gurgle all throughout english.

I'm not sure what lesson to extract from this, other than cookies are great and stay out of the Canton School Store.

Gold award: Lunchtime Coke problem, by John

I can't think of a more memorable and traumatizing lunch experience.

This story definitely began during school lunch but extended for several hours beyond in the emergency room.

So I was one of those kids whose mom packed their lunch. Every lunch was wholesome and nutritious; carrot sticks, Oscar Meyer ham sandwich, Welch's juice box, maybe a bag of Doritos. That sort of thing.

Around seventh grade, my sister and I started pestering my mom to buy 12 packs of Coke for us to take in our lunches as they were delicious and we were thoroughly addicted to caffeine. After a few weeks of begging she finally conceded.

One day I grab my brown bag lunch off the top shelf of my locker and take it down to the lunch room. Upon arrival I was horrified to find that my lunch was squashed (mayo shooting out of the side of the sandwich, chips crushed) and the Coke can was dented to hell.

"What the hell," I thought. "I'm young and virile, I can handle a dented up Coke can." I did the "tap the top" thing that supposedly takes down the pressure in the can (it doesn't), popped the fucker open and started drinking the Cola-flavored corn juice.

At the end of lunch I had finished my meal and daily routine of throwing bagels at nerds and pickles at windows and tipped the Coke to get the last drops of my brown rebellion.

Something totally hurt. Like a lot. In my throat. So I went down to the drinking fountain to drink some water. Ouch. Every time I swallowed there was an INTENSE pain. It felt fucking weird and I couldn't figure out what the fuck was going on. I still had the Coke can with me and examined its insides. Had someone put razor blades in it?

No, the tab that goes inside the can when you popped it had fallen into the can and I had drank it and got it stuck in my throat. I went to the school nurse and she called my mom and my mom took me to the emergency room. I was put in a room at the back of some darkened hallway with nothing but a spitoon. I couldn't swallow without intense pain, so I spit. For hours.

Finally, they came to take an X-ray of my fucked up insides. They took me into the room and gave me a cup of this milky, chalky white liquid to drink. "Barium," the technician said. "Barium swallows." I laughed at the phrase "barium swallows" (obvi) but it hurt so I stopped. "It'll let us see where this pop can thing is stuck." I drank it.

The barium tasted like chalk and gunmetal. It was fucking gross. So after I swallowed it they put me under the X-ray machine and I realized it didn't hurt anymore. Somehow the heavy metal cocktail washed it away, down into my guts. I went home with my mom super pissed at me for not previously drinking a heavy metal cocktail while I worried about shitting out a pop tab the next day.

I never shit it out (I presume it dissolved in my stomach acid) but the next day my shit was white from the barium.

- - -

If you didn't win, don't worry: I still love you and I'd dine with you any time.

Burger King Flame Broiled Flavored Potato Snacks

2008-12-29T20:36:00.024-05:00

Don't give yourself indigestion with worries -- Winners of the High School Lunch Memories Contest will be announced tomorrow.

If you enjoyed my review of Burger King Onion Rings Flavored Snacks, you're in for a real treat -- Burger King Flame Broiled Flavored Potato Snacks. This is the second snack in the Burger King snack trifecta, the other being Ketchup and Fries flavored snacks.

The existence of these chips was foretold to me, and I discovered them one day while waiting in line at the local Blockbuster Video. They sat on my counter, awaiting review, for some time. Then, my power went out and I had no access to my refrigerator and no time to go on a Flavor Quest so I knew it was time to fire up the proverbial grill.

I have to admit that I was a bit nervous as I opened the bag. I grew up in close proximity to a Burger King and the "flame broiled" greasy smoke smell hung heavy in the strip mall adjacent to BK. The smell always made me huffily exhale out of my nose and say, "Ew, Burger King smells gross." I imagine the smell of Burger King is how it would smell if you managed to smoke some grease (the way you'd smoke a turkey breast) and then vaporized it. The smell made me see visions of red brick chimneys on the surrounding houses stained black with Essence of Burger King. I swallowed the fearful lump in my throat and broke the seal.

Whiff one of the bag revealed a smell not at all unlike burnt, over-fried normal potato chips. Bleh. Not at all promising, just like Cabo Chips.

Taste one was rather herb-y, followed by a slight beef taste that immediately made me picture rare "beef medallions." Taste two indicated an attempt at simulating "burger fixins." A mildly herbed tomato was definitely present.

Burger King Flame Broiled Flavored Potato Snacks are a prime example of false advertising, which, in this case, is the best thing they have going for them. The smell I hate (smoked grease) is thankfully not present, replace by one I can at least tolerate. And, most importantly, the simulated jazzed-up low-grade beef taste is spot on.

If I had to associate potential actions I would take with these chips regarding the way I feel about them, I'd say that I would suggest you try them, but I probably wouldn't take one from you if you offered to share.

Perhaps you'd like to try my review of Burger King Onion Rings Flavored Snacks. Or Cabo Chips.

Snapea Crisps

2008-12-23T09:21:00.013-05:00

As I was browsing my local high-end grocer's produce department, a bag caught my eye. A photo of pea pods, arranged like a haphazard fence, indicated its contents, so I tossed it into my shopping basket without any more thought. I felt very pleased with myself and I anticipated enjoying some fresh, crisp sugar snap peas. WRONG!

I returned from the store and my post-shopping snack attack led me to open the aforementioned bag. As it turns out, I had just purchased Calbee Snack Salad Snapea Crisps. Delicate & tasty. Original flavor. Baked. Net wt. 3.3 oz.

The detailed photo showing peas bulging in pods on the packaging wants us to believe that whole snap peas, in-pod, were baked. I have a different theory.

My theory is that a cauldron of pea soup was left to boil until it was reduced to dried pea sludge. This product was then made into a fine powder and then reconstituted with water before being molded into fuzzy-looking (but not fuzzy) pod-like shapes. Why else would rice be in the list of ingredients?

Taking a cross-section of said pods indicates no discernible individual peas, which just adds more clout to my argument.

Despite the onset of snack confusion, I continued chomping away. I am not even sure if chomping is the right word. These Snapea Crisps aren't really they crisp. They don't snap or crunch. It would be more accurate to say that I was mashing them and dissipating the powder with my teeth as I chewed. The crisps are a light and airy snack, and I am confident that anyone could eat an entire bag in one sitting and still feel hungry. More importantly, they taste good.

The familiar flavor of non-fresh peas is subtly present, and the flavor tricks your tongue into believing that the crisps are more heavily seasoned than they are. The list of ingredients is simple: Green peas, corn oil, rice, salt, calcium carbonate, ascorbic acid (vitamin c).

Adding to this snack's intrigue is the supposed availability of a Caesar-flavored variety, which is sadly not sold at my local store.

My snack confusion yielded a pleasant surprise and I'll conclude this review in agreement with the folks at Calbee America, Inc., quoting the conclusion of the Snapea Crisps product essay: "[I] propose this product as a new type of snack."

By the way, I dare you to win the High School Lunch Memories Contest. Winners will be announced next week.

Doritos 4cheese Flavored Tortilla Chips AND A CONTEST

2008-12-16T07:57:00.011-05:00

Today's review is decidedly brief -- it had been sitting on my "shelf" since October for this reason -- because I am announcing a little reader participation event this week. Get the details after the review.

My quest for a mid-morning snack once again turned up a surprise when I noticed the sudden appearance of a new item in the vending machine: Doritos 4cheese Flavored Tortilla Chips. "They're back by popular demand."

The packaging alone is enough to make this snack enticing, but not because it makes it appear overly appetizing.

The hazy pattern of the bag itself conjures up fire, and a silhouetted creepy hand makes me think that someone is being burned alive. This sort of imagery conveys "spicy," although "4cheese" does not sound spicy at all.

Why is "4cheese" one word? Doesn't the Frito Lay family of snack foods have a typographer?

Back, to the creepy imagery, "4cheese" seemed to be tied to horror somehow, because Doritos invited me to "unleash the spirits at snackstrongproductions.com on the back of the package. This URL simply redirected me to www.doritos.com where I was met with some sort of virtual city that did not succeed in enticing me to explore it. What spirits were they expecting me to unleash here?

And why are these chips "back by popular demand" if I have never heard of them in my life?

I had a lot of questions at this point.

The only answer I got was that these chips taste like Nacho Cheese and Cool Ranch Doritos combined. Who, exactly, demanded this?

And now for the High School Lunch Memories Contest!

After my friend Haim, proprietor of the Frosty Insides refrigerator blog, suggested that I sneak into a high school and review high school lunch (a plan that is still in the works) he and I started talking about high school lunch memories. So, I'm asking you this: What do you remember about high school lunch? Share your lists or stories and the lucky winner will receive an exciting prize of my choice. If you live nearby, I'll probably take you out to eat. If not, I'll mail you something cool like a limited edition Nate's Plate promotional coaster, a yet-to-be-produced Nate's Plate lobster bib, or maybe some Taco Bell Bucks®.

To share your tales of dipping fries in cheese sauce, taco pizzas shaped like stop signs and that kid who always lurked around the ketchup dispensers, post 'em up in the comments. You don't even need a Blogspot ID to do it.

7 Mile Shrimp Palace of Detroit

2008-12-06T10:09:00.027-05:00

If you live in metro Detroit and have been watching channel two at around 2:30 a.m., you may have seen a commercial for a little local shrimp joint, 7 Mile Shrimp Palace. The commercial features a friendly, enthusiastic, welcoming voiceover describing what this palace of fried goods has to offer. What really makes it work is its low-budget aesthetic and the voices of children in the background repeatedly chanting, "7 Mile Shrimp is REAL good."

After seeing the commercial one sleepless night a few months ago, I suddenly remembered it out of the blue and found it on YouTube. After making it "go viral" in my office, my colleague Trevor and I decided we'd make the 16.5-mile trip to Detroit for lunch. We hoped we wouldn't go viral ourselves, and we didn't.

Long story short, 7 Mile Shrimp IS, indeed, real good.

I honestly had no idea what to expect from 7 Mile Shrimp Palace. On our journey there, we crossed paths with everything one does when travelling the perimeter of downtown Detroit: Horrible potholes, roads with undetermined numbers of lanes, abandoned rib shops, burned out traffic lights and scores of hand-painted signage. That's one thing I love about visiting the outskirts of Detroit -- Seeing the peeling works of sign painters past. Also impossible to ignore is the red and yellow color scheme that seems to be mandated by the Detroit Signage and Building Painting Style Guide.

7 Mile Shrimp Palace is not exempt from this motif. We entered the lobby, made our choices from the menu (1/2-pound shrimp baskets with fries and potato salad for $10.28 after tax) and ordered from in front of the bullet-proof glass. They fried our shrimp on-demand as we waited and soaked up the lobby's atmosphere.

A flat-screen TV, surrounded by depictions of fish and shrimp by a local artist, displayed a CSI-like show that depicted dead bodies covered in beetles. A glimpse behind the bullet-proof glass revealed rather sparse facilities. Behind the modest kitchen was a modest utility area, semi-masked by large beverage coolers with sodas and grape drink inside.

After a 10-minute wait, our orders were ready and dispensed to us through the bullet-proof glass carousel. We hightailed it to my car to rush back to the office, since there were no tables to dine upon in the restaurant lobby. As I navigated back toward the Southfield Freeway to save time, Trevor broke open his styrofoam box so we could feast on shrimp "hot and fresh out the kitchen."

The jumbo shrimp had a "beer batter" style coating. They were piping hot, light golden brown, and the perfect texture. I was later told by a friend that this style of batter is called Calabash for the town in North Carolina, "The Seafood Capital of the World." Sadly, I cannot verify this since I am known to dine at Red Lobster.

I can honestly say that this was the best fried shrimp I have ever had. The low-budget advertising got me in the door on kitsch value alone, but the shrimp will absolutely guarantee a return trip.

Hot D Wake Up Juice Bloody Mary + Energy Mix

2008-12-01T20:38:00.011-05:00

Before you even take your first sip, you need to know that it is a complete coincidence that this review is being published the day after "Bloody Mary Day," whatever that is.

The Bloody Mary has been my drink of choice lately. I have been known to consume them in bars where the waitress wasn't even sure if they had the mix on hand. Last winter, I was at Meijer and saw a shelf tag under some empty real estate that was called Hot D Wake Up juice. I laughed hysterically. I took a photo.

Months went by with nary a thought of Hot D Wake Up juice, then it randomly came into my head one day. I immediately hopped on The Google and found the Hot D web site. In a more conservative office, a site with such a title surely would have been blocked from my computer, but access was granted. I was directed to Pzazzsauces.com to place my order from Cowboy George, "Director of Deliciousness." A few days passed and my shipment arrived in a Styrofoam box plastered in "Fragile" stickers. I felt like the father in A Christmas Story when his leg lamp arrived in a large crate.

Sunday morning came soon enough and this meant Bloody Mary time.

I extracted the bottle of Hot D from my refrigerator, opened it and took a whiff. "This smells familiar," I thought. Two seconds of contemplation revealed the resemblance: Cocktail sauce. As a shrimp lover, this was OK with me. Next up to be evaluated was the color. For some reason, I was expecting this to be bright red because, you know, it's made from tomatoes. But no. The color was more like that of A1 steak sauce. So was its texture. Thus answered the question I had about "does it look brown because it's in a brown glass bottle or is it brown liquid in a clear bottle?" It's brown liquid in a brown bottle.

For my first time experimenting with Hot D, I decided to mix some Smirnoff into it, straight up, over ice. No garnish or anything. This would reveal the true flavor of Hot D Wake Up juice. Plus, the ingredients indicated that the mix came with most of the accoutrements one normally applies to tomato juice, and then some:
Compare our premium ingredients:
Tomato juice
Honey
Horseradish
Lemon juice
Tomato paste
Celery salt
Worcestershire sauce
Red wine vinegar
Taurine
Hot sauce
Vegetable base
Cocoa powder
Cayenne pepper
Ginger
Caffeine
Black pepper

Allergens: Fish, wheat

The texture was very odd as far as Bloody Maries are concerned. As opposed to being a semi-thick liquid with random spice chunks floating about, it was more of a sludge with some thicker globules throughout. Again, it resembled A1. Perhaps I will add some A1 to a future Hot D Bloody Mary mixture.

I soon realized I was doing myself a disservice by not jamming this thing full of pickles, olives and celery. The 1.33 shots of vodka I had out into the almost eight ounces of mix were imperceptible. I added another capful of Smirnoff. I could now taste the vodka a bit but the flavors were still wimping out.

The burn I have come to love just wasn't there. Prior to adding the extra vodka, the heat was nonexistent unless I did some post-sip mouth smacking. Even then, I could only perceive a slight tingle at the sides of my tongue. After the extra booze was added, I began to detect a slight "after shock" -- a bitter taste in the back of my throat that I'd sooner affiliate with some bitter medicine than with a spicy drink.

Perhaps this was due to the blank "expiration date" field on the label. Maybe I was drinking a bottle of the very first experimental batch. Or maybe the taurine prevented expiration.

Admittedly, panic was beginning to set in. The bottle of Hot D indicated that there were only four servings available to me, and I now had only three left. It would take lots of experimenting to perfect my drink, which is sad considering that this mix supposedly contains all the items you'd put in a Bloody Mary to spruce it up.

At this point, I had no choice but to finish my drink while watching Mad Men, which is appropriate since the characters on that show are always drunk. Drinking in the morning and writing about it ... I was now a true writer.

As I sipped onward I began to ponder my situation. "Round two will feature a Claussen Kosher Dill and some hot sauce," I thought. "Maybe I'll squeeze a lime section into it."

But wait!

Sure, some garnish would be OK, but unless that pickle brine really did the trick, the fact that I had to add more to this already complex mix meant that Hot D was a failure. There was no saving Hot D. It couldn't stand alone. Now I had to experiment in order to serve my taste buds and get the most out of my $10 plus shipping.

Two thirds of the way through my first drink I was feeling pretty OK -- My typical Sunday morning nap craving had been put to rest.. I'd been up 'til 2:30 AM with a generous quantity of Pabst Blue Ribbon in me and I only got seven hours of sleep. Despite the sub-par taste, Hot D truly D woke me up. Perhaps my next spin on this drink would give me some afternoon delight.

For all intents and purposes, this review should end here -- Hot D Wake Up Juice is not an all-in-one Bloody Mary solution. But with three servings left, I had to find out how it fared as a foundation for a more complex mixed drink. A few days later, it was time to get serious.

I assembled my reinforcements:

Claussen kosher dill pickles

Frank's Red Hot sauce

Garlic-stuffed olives

Garlic powder

Black pepper

All of these ingredients were combined in a mason jar with ice, Smirnoff vodka and Hot D Wake Up Juice. I screwed the lid onto the jar and agitated the mixture. Shaken, not stirred, my good man.

Despite the inclusion of all my favorite Bloody Mary fixins (I usually base my Bloody Maries upon V8 juice), this new drink continued to be unpleasant. If I were served this drink in a bar, I would honestly consider sending it back. There was some sort of sludgy sweetness that came up from behind and overtook all other flavors. Perhaps the use of honey instead of high fructose corn syrup was making Hot D flaccid. Perhaps the cocoa powder was causing performance anxiety. (Update: My friend Shaun suggests that this taste is likely the taurine ... a logical explanation). The only improvement for this round was the fact that the harsh after shock had somehow diminished despite the addition of more hot sauce.

It's official: Hot D Wake Up Juice hits the gag spot, not the g-spot.

Thanksgiving my way - Holiday bonus edition

2008-11-26T09:30:00.025-05:00

Thanksgiving sucks (but stay with me here).

At least it does when you're a kid with no siblings whose extended family lives no less than five hours away. That means that dinner is just like every other dinner but with more food. After dinner, your parents give you permission to go out and visit friends. Only, they're all preoccupied with their huge fun families. You can't go hang out at a coffee shop because all businesses are closed on Thanksgiving. Lame.

Also: Turkey is boring.

But there is hope. Now that I am a quarter century old I will soon be able to celebrate Thanksgiving my way. This will either be because I finalize some sort of arranged marriage scenario, or I am on my own in the world when I flee from Detroit and the imploding auto industry.

Here's how Thanksgiving my way will go:

There will be HAM.
Oh yes, there will be ham. Why will there be ham? Turkey tastes boring and you get a lot of weird-tasting bits. Ham, on the other hand, is delicious and special. Why do you think ham has stores dedicated to selling it exclusively? We all have the saints at Honey Baked Ham at our disposal and if you're in Detroit, there are a wide variety of places with names like "Bo's Ham House" to choose from. The person who decided to store a large piece of hog in a barrel of salt was a genius. Fear not, conservatives: There will also be turkey.

In addition to ham and turkey, there will be:

Potatoes: Scalloped and garlic-mashed

Five gallons of gravy

Green beans

Green bean casserole

Asparagus

That cranberry "sauce" that's shaped like a can

Rolls

Stuffing: Both made-made-in-the-turkey's-butt and NOT-made-made-in-the-turkey's-butt (For me. You butt stuffing people disgust me, but I'd hate for you to be disappointed).

Apple pie

Pumpkin pie

Here's the itinerary:

Friends and family are all invited. Only the "cool" relatives show up for the most part, and the less-exciting ones go home early. 21 and up please. No children, regardless of adult supervision.

While the food cooks, everyone will mingle and drink Simpler Times Lager, red and white wine, vodka, whiskey and rum.

Some guests will choose to step out and "go to the store" so that they can "participate in appetite-enhancing activities." They will return with nothing and claim that all the stores were closed.

Dinner will be ready by 3 p.m. Everyone will eat to the point that all conversation is punctuated by random sighs and groans.

After dinner, most guests will retire to the basement where a sea of side-by-side mattresses is available for napping and spooning. Other guests will choose to hang out in the more-than-accommodating living room to watch Dumb and Dumber and other hilarious classic gems. No football games allowed!

Once folks have recovered, they will return to the dining area and graze on the remaining food at which point the drinking will begin again. Others will drink coffee and tea, and eat pie.

Now that the spirits of all have been rekindled, it's time to play with my Wii and for a raucous game of Apples to Apples.

The night ends with sober folks trickling away and the drunks staying the night in anticipation of a group breakfast outing. I'll be in bed by 9 p.m. We'll all wake up at the same time and no one will have hangovers.

That's Thanksgiving my way. If you read this thing weekly, you're probably invited, so stay tuned in the years to come. This year, I'm going to Pissburgh (not a typo), PA to visit my mom's family for the first time in years. I hope I can enjoy it now that I'm an adult. I hear my uncle has a lot of new conspiracy theories. Any way, I'd wish a "Happy Thanksgiving to your and yours!" but that would be cheesy. Sorry. Not gonna do it ... OKAY FINE! HAVE FUN, EAT LOTS, BE SAFE!

McNuggets Lovin': I have the best ideas special edition

2008-11-24T16:56:00.016-05:00

About a year ago, my "songs about food to the tune of popular songs" career peaked with a little diddy about McDonald's Chicken McNuggets set to the tune of "I Can Tell" by the 504 Boyz (hear the NSFW original). Obviously, it was called "I Can Tell (U Want a Nug). I chopped and spliced the original song together to create an instrumental version over which my friend and I attempted to record lyrics after consuming some Smirnoff Source alcoholic water. A music video script was also written, but this never came to fruition.

What's the point of all this? At the time, we thought an R&B song and video about McNuggets was a clever idea without commercial merit, although I would have loved to see it through. Silly food advertising is a dream of mine if you haven't figured that out by now. Lo and behold, McDonald's just released a commercial to the exact same effect, thus sending one more of my dreams down the tubes.

Aside from the fact that I am beside myself now that I have realized that this ridiculous idea of mine was a home run, I am convinced that my song had a better message. The McDonald's song asks, "R U dippin' on me?" and is based around jealousy and greed. My song, on the other hand, is based around a young, dynamic couple with a shared passion for McNuggets. Take a look:

CHORUS:
You ain't gotta say too much
From the look in your eyes
I can tell you want a nug

And you ain't gotta force-feed me food
Just as bad as you want a nug
I want a nug too

No, No, No you ain't gotta say too much
From the look in your eyes
I can tell you want a nug

And you ain't gotta force-feed me food
Just as bad as you want a nug
I want a nug too

VERSE 1:
Now you ain't gotta say much cuz I was eatin’, boo
Lookin at yo’ lips got me thinkin’ ‘bout how many nugs to order to go
You heard about McDonald’s combos?
We get up in there and order more than a thrillion truckloads
When it comes to barbecue sauce I am the boss
Order me a salad that’s tossed
I heard you ate that meal
I see nuggets in yo’ grill
Can you drive me in your blue Ford Focus
So I can make nugs disappear like hocus pocus?
I got no oven so I cannot cook my food
Make it fast and tastin’ good
Get a couple of yum yums
Shove it in your mouth ‘cause it’s a nug
And uh, hit me on my pager if you want ‘em
Its nugget passion
So get up on it if you want ‘em yum, yum!!!!

CHORUS

VERSE 2:
Pile ‘em on the counter in the kitchen now baby
Sausage biscuit is a day dream
Drippin’ with syrup fa sho, chewing it over
Large fries’ll be the next thing
I wanna eat them nuggets all night long
From sun up to sun down and even in Hong Kong

CHORUS

VERSE 3:
Can I light a candle
And eat nugs on a table where the light won’t show?
I'll take my time and eat ‘em slow
I'll do my own exercises
Part of a healthy diet
It's so very pleasurable
I'll eat salads, you won’t though
That’s OK, yo
Now I wanna eat some more

CHORUS

So, there you have it. Another advertising gem that never saw the light of day. If an Of Montreal song about Outback Steakhouse can captivate viewers, maybe it's time to brush the dust off my song about KFC Famous Bowls set to the tune of "Age of Consent" by New Order.

Don't worry, I ate a 10-piece McNuggets meal after I wrote the first draft of this. You know, for consistency's sake.

Fried Mung Beans: Colleague's Cookin' Special Edition

2008-11-18T09:20:00.009-05:00

When my coworker Russ inquired about the possibility of writing a piece about fried mung beans for Nate's Plate, I didn't hesitate to say yes. I pictured a pan on his stove with steaming off-white refried beans bubbling away, stinking up his house. Boy was I wrong. Fried mung beans are actually hard (I guess they're just fried once) and dark green-brown in color.

I had the privilege of sampling Russ's Famous Fried Mung Beans before his review was completed, so I decided I'd write my own. I was drafting a corporate spam e-missive and an email from Russ appeared in my inbox: "Mung beans are at my desk. Drop by and sample the goodness." It was an offer I couldn't refuse.

I walked across the office and there were the little guys on his desk, hanging out in a jar of Mrs. Renfro's "Smoky" Roasted Salsa. The beans weren't the fried mess I expected at all. They were hard and looked rather insect-like. The ones without their shells looked like Honey Smacks cereal. Most importantly, FRIED MUNG BEANS ARE DAMN GOOD.

Fried mung beans are not a side dish for a meal, as I had expected. They're a salty, crunchy, kinda-burnt-tasting treat. They're a wholly addictive snack that leaves the slightest amount of oily residue in your palm.

The fact they they were stored in an old salsa jar only made them better. It added some southwest pizzaz that delicately flirted with my taste buds. When removed from the jar, the beans smell rather neutral, which is good since Russ reported that they stink terribly when being prepared.

As the jar emptied, I already found myself hoping that there are more fried mung beans on their way to the office. I'd buy a bag of these at the party store, and that's high praise. I suppose I could do that, since Beer Nuts already exist.

And don't take it from me. Take it from Eric, a.k.a. Pep-Pep. After sampling some fried mung beans, this is what he said:
"Holy crap those are good ... Those are REALLY good ... Those are one of the best snacks I've ever had."

The people have spoken. Fry on, Russ!

Cabo Chips: All natural gourmet corn tortilla chips -- "Taste the experience"

2008-11-10T14:12:00.016-05:00

A bag of Cabo Chips tortilla chips ended up in the "Awesometeria," the community dining area that my nearby coworkers constructed. I overheard them saying things about "lemon juice" and "sea salt." After taking one bite of a Cabo Chip, I discovered that they were clearly talking about some sort of other food product -- one that didn't lack any hint of flavor whatsoever.

Normally, a review of tortilla chips that taste like overcooked fryer remnants would end after the 78th character of this very sentence. However, the creators of Cabo Chips think they are so great that they've written a 167-word essay that I have chosen to dissect.

"The crunchy legacy of Cabo Chips
Twenty years ago, the zesty imagination of three brothers[1] produced the idea of a snack that would change the chip world forever. Inspired by their unwavering loyalty to Cabo San Lucas and its warm sunny weather, they created the Cabo Chip -- the best corn tortilla chip you will find on either side of the border. Cabo Chips are light[2], rich in flavor[3], and the perfect complement to any dip[4].

A superior chip arrives
Cabo Chips began[5] April Fools Day[6] 2004 in a small factory[7] in Cabo San Lucas, but only a few months later, demand for the Cabo Chip was so great that we[8] had to begin production north of the border as well!

Cabo Chips are made with the highest quality ingredients, including 100% Non-GMO white corn and expeller[9] pressed oils. A unique cooking process[10] and quality ingredients result in an all natural chip with no trans-fat -- lower in fat and sodium than many leading chip brands.

Enjoy![11]"

[1] It's apparent that this phrase reads accurately: The brothers have one imagination between the three of them.
[2] A scan of the the "datos de nutrición" implies that this statement is surprisingly accurate.
[3] Wrong! The flavor is very subdued and most closely resembles overdone chips from the bottom of the fryer. Their deeper-than-normal brown tint reflects this as well.
[4] These chips are the perfect complement to any dip because they'd need an imperial gallon of guacamole to enhance their edibility.
[5] Began what?
[6] No surprise there. Maybe instead of "Taste the experience" their slogan should be "An April Fool's prank in every bag"!
[7] The back of a discerning Mexican restaurant that discarded its overcooked chips instead of feeding them to patrons.
[8] We, as in the three brothers who know not of parallel construction in writing.
[9] Something that every consumer is familiar with and has in the kitchen.
[10] Leaving them in the deep fryer for three days.
[11] No can do.

Back up to essay.

In case you're curious, satisfaction is NOT guaranteed anywhere on the bag.

The Back to Basics Egg ‘N Muffin Toaster: A guest column

2008-11-03T15:21:00.027-05:00

Once upon a time during a scooter rally, I drunkenly walked my Vespa to my friends Amber and Other Nate’s house after the bar closed. I am normally one to retire early, but I was chasing a girl with the same destination so I felt that I could forego sleep for a bit. Regardless, I surely needed something to eat, as I always do after the bar, and Amber did not disappoint. She immediately fired up THE EGGWAVE – a magical device I had been hearing about for some time – and began dispensing delicious breakfast sandwiches to all of her guests at 3am. I could introduce all of the benefits of such a machine, but Amber (who runs http://skinnydudes.blogspot.com/, which features ME this week) covers all of them.

Would you trust this woman?

I sure hope not. She puts her dog in the mailbox for Christ’s sake. This blue eyed, dog abusing gal does have one thing right, though. She is Paula Deen of the Food Network and she’s latched on to quite possibly mankind’s greatest invention: The Back to Basics Egg ‘N Muffin Toaster.

First, The Back to Basics Egg ‘N Muffin Toaster has a horrible name. That shit is way too long. TBTBENMT is not a handy abbreviation. Inspired by this David Cross comedy bit my co-workers and I have dubbed this machine THE EGGWAVE and its delicious output is known as AN EGGWAVE. This is not to be confused with the established yet inferior product going by the same name. Stay with me here people, or I’ll sick Paula Deen on you.

If The Eggwave had been around when I was in college, there is a pretty good chance that I would have never graduated…or at least never graduated weighing less than 250lbs. I would have sat in my dorm room, quietly eating Eggwaves all day long. I would have been fat, but sweet Jesus, I would have been happy. Every college student must have an Eggwave. Actually, every person in the world must have an Eggwave. Jot that down on your Christmas list.

The Eggwave is also a completely unnecessary invention. One could easily make an egg sandwich without the aid of this contraption. However, the experience would not rule nearly as much as putting all of your fixins in one fancy robot, hitting a button, and commencing the twiddling of the thumbs for approximately 3 minutes while your most delectable breakfast sandwich cooks. You see, The Eggwave has some highly advanced technology going on inside of its robot body. It works very hard to ensure that all of your sandwich components are done at the SAME TIME. You can stop sweating bullets as you scramble to push the toaster button down at the precise moment while you’re cooking your egg, trying to time it so the egg is done at the same time as the toast, but always ALWAYS failing. The Eggwave knows your pain. It has thought about that shit already & has moved on to solving the current economic crisis. So no worries man, you are guaranteed to have the most enjoyable breakfast experience of your life – no effort required.

But maybe you don’t want an Eggwave for breakfast. Maybe you’re a fool and you think you’re too good for an incredibly delicious & personally perfected sandwich to kick-start your day. Well, I can almost guarantee that at 3am after you stumble and / or drunken drive home from the bar, an Eggwave is going to be the most delicious thing that you sink your teeth into. Never again will you be a victim to the tyranny of McDonalds and their fascist “No Breakfast after 10:30am” rules. An egg McMuffin – anytime you want it – only better than McDonalds because you can make it with REAL FOOD – not processed food product.

Here are my top 5 Eggwave fixins – in order of deliciousness.

Bacon – obviously. Bacon rules. The Eggwave will not cook raw bacon or any other raw meats. The Eggwave is not magic. The Eggwave will, however, heat up any pre-cooked meats you put it its compartment. You can take 2 full sized pieces of bacon – break that shit up into 4 pieces, and count down the minutes until those 4 pieces and their egg, muffin & cheese friends are in your trap.
Swat Sauce from the Fly Trap in Ferndale – hot sauce is a requirement for my Eggwaves. The best I’ve found is from a wonderful diner in Fabulous Ferndale. Swat Sauce from the Fly Trap may have magic as one of their top ingredients. It is that good. Of course, you also need to pepper your Eggwave if you want it to be at its most delicious.
Croissants – Usually, I stick to the standard English Muffin (of which, I have to say that Bays is my favorite brand, followed by Pepperidge Farm 100% Whole Wheat English Muffins). But when I really want to reward myself I get a giant Croissant from Costco, set The Eggwave on the lowest toast setting (very important – for English muffins I crank it all the way up) and brace myself for the flaky, buttery goodness that I am about to experience. It’s my way of telling myself “Hey, way to not kick that homeless guy on the way to work today. You deserve something special”.
Morning Star Veggie Sausage – As disgusting as this is, I kind of love McDonalds sausage patties. It’s the only thing I kind of miss about not ever going to McDonald’s breakfast anymore. There’s something about the mystery spices in their meat product that I have yet to find in any frozen sausage I’ve tried. So until I rob a McDonalds at gunpoint and declare that "all of their sausage are belong to me," I’m sticking to Morning Star Veggie Sausage Patties as my “meat” of choice. The only problem with this is that the sausage does not cover the span of the egg sandwich. They cover more height than they do surface area – however, this problem is solved within a few chomps. The sausage smashes down, shifts, and never disappoints.
Provolone Cheese – I’ve tried several different cheeses, and provolone is pretty much the best. Always. On everything.

I could seriously go on. I dream of Eggwaves in my sleep. In my dreams, they have little wings and cartoon eyes. I jump on trampolines and bite them out of the sky. The Eggwave has made my life, and my dreams, better. Trust me. You want this kitchen gadget more than anything you’ve ever wanted in your life.

Ethnic Gourmet's Taste of Thai: Pad Thai with Tofu

2008-10-28T09:12:00.006-04:00

While browsing the freezer department of my local high-end grocer for something new, a red box caught my eye: Ethnic Gourmet.

With a fantastic, absurd, mildly offensive name like Ethnic Gourmet, I had to try it. The specific item I chose was Ethnic Gourmet's Taste of Thai: Pad Thai with Tofu. And let me tell you something This is the best frozen meal I have ever consumed in my entire life.

Taste? Perfect.

Texture? Phenomenal.

Aroma? Palette-moistening.

There's a subtle hint of spice that doesn't make your nose run like so many other spicy Thai dishes. The "mildly spiced" box descriptor is dead-on.

Ethnic Gourmet even makes your house smell good when you microwave it after your cat stinks up the joint by peeing everywhere. True story -- it happened last night (Well, the night before I wrote this a few weeks ago - Nate).

I actually discovered Ethnic Gourmet awhile ago and I have been known to enjoy the Taste of Thai three times per week. I just can't get sick of it.

The Holiday Market where I first discovered Ethnic Gourmet has since discontinued carrying the Pad Thai variety, an event which nearly gave me withdrawals. Luckily, I was forced to go to Meijer for a late-night cold medicine run last week and I discovered a stash of this Asian treat in the bottom of a freezer cabinet. I bought all but one of the $4.99 boxes of dreams -- I had to share the joy after all.

If you are lazy, an office worker, or you love deliciousness, you must try Ethnic Gourmet's Taste of Thai: Pad Thai with Tofu immediately, if not sooner. I give it a 110% rating.

A new personal best shrimp consumption record: A micro update

2008-10-22T21:35:00.003-04:00

I have repressed my shrimp-induced stupor long enough to report that I have returned from Red Lobster's Endless Shrimp event after consuming 93 shrimp, two glasses of Riesling, a tossed salad and two Cheddar Bay biscuits. I will have someone report which hospital you can visit me in when the inevitable happens.

McGraw's Spicy Jalapeño Flavored Corn Chips

2008-10-21T09:13:00.002-04:00

Is "warm" a taste? My first impression as I put one of "McGraw's Spicy Jalapeño" Fritos in my mouth was that the corn chip seemed to increase in temperature as it sat on my tongue. And it wasn't because of the spice. It felt like it was a corn chip warm off the manufacturing belt. Perhaps the active ingredient in that KY Jelly warming lubricant is derived from the jalapeño.

Let's put the 2-ounce bag down, lick our fingers and back up for a minute.

I noticed McGraw's Spicy Jalapeño Fritos in the office vending machine when I went on a quest for a mid-morning snack. The milk I brought for my cereal smelled like onions, and the Chocolate Silk soy milk I drank only kept me full for so long. Knowing that breakfast is not the time to experiment with novelty food items, I purchased a bag of pretzels knowing I would return to the machine for the Fritos when the time was right.

When I returned to the vending machine after getting some change out of my car it wasn't a moment too soon -- there was only one bag of McGraw's fried slabs of corn paste in the machine.

The McGraw in question is country singer Tim McGraw, and he sure is smug about having his face on a bag of chips. What's perplexing about this is the fact that the bag provides no context for why these chips might be McGraw's.

The package reads:

"Introducing New FRITOS® brand McGraw's Spicy Jalapeño Flavored Corn Chips - the same classic corn taste and hearty FRITOS® crunch you love simply paired with a burst of jalapeño flavor. Who said delicious had to be complicated?"

I think it was Tim McGraw who said that.

I was expecting a story that began, "As a young buck, Mr. McGraw spent a lot of time on his pappy's farm, playin' in the jalapeño pepper patch ..."

Whatever the raison d'être for these chips, I am sad to report that the main experience with these corn chips can be summed up very briefly:

The first bite tastes like genuine jalapeño for an instant, then disappears. Next, a moment of subdued Tex-Mex flavor is followed by a brief tingle of the tongue and throat, then that "I just ate something sort of spicy feeling" lingers in the upper-rear of the throat. The most exciting part about eating them was when an intense burning sensation slowly crept into my nose and made me sneeze.

It looks like Tim McGraw just pulled a fast one.

Neighborhood chili cook-off : Mundane Monday bonus edition

2008-10-20T17:08:00.007-04:00

"Nate! Do you like chili?" asked my neighbor from the other side of the backyard fence. I figured she was going to hand me a couple of one-gallon containers of some of her home cookin' as she is known to do from time to time. My obvious reply: "Yeah."

She informed me that there was a chili cook-off on the next block. Despite the fact that I had plans within the next hour, I knew where I had to go. I even grabbed a pocket-sized notebook to take notes but quickly realized I'd look like an ass in front of all the neighbors I hadn't met before, as I scribbled observations about their culinary efforts. Besides, I didn't want to step on the toes of the "real" food writer who was rumored to be there.

Being without notes, I wondered how I'd even write about all of the chili I tasted. Then I decided that no neighborhood chili is worth review. I'd just write about the experience of attending a surprise chili cook-off. Here's what I remember about wandering down Ferndale's Woodland street on Saturday.

First stop: Garden chili, hangover chili, and something chili. Despite its name, garden chili is not vegetarian. Sure, it had yellow squash in it, but it also had venison. On to the hangover chili. If I had remembered to vote for my favorite chili, this would have been it. It was spicy, but not so spicy that eating it would make me look one of those guys who proclaims he loves spicy food, bro, as his face turns read and he begins sweating profusely. I also picked up some not-so-subtle notes of garlic, once again proving my point that all the best foods are ones that you couldn't eat on a first date. As it turns out, hangover chili was not made to cure hangovers. It was made by a guy who had a hangover, and his hangover apparently gave him great epicurean wisdom.

A few stops later, I was at a house where a bunch of hippies*** were hanging out. There was a chili labeled #17 (all participating chilis are numbered) and an Indian chili. That's Indian like curry, not like "we stole your land." There were some cute but unfriendly girls standing by #17 who did not reciprocate when I introduced myself, but I tried it any way. The experience of consuming #17 was like eating solid water at room temperature. All the ingredients had textures, but there was no flavor whatsoever. Water seeped out of various mushy shapes with each bite. This was clearly vegetarian, if not vegan or maybe even "freegan." Shame on you, #17. I took this as a sign to skip the Indian chili.

After my experience with the water-chili, I began to notice just how many hippies were around. What were all these hippies doing at a chili cook-off? I thought hippies were "cruelty free." Perhaps they only ate free-range beef. Maybe they were just trying to scam some grub 'cause the man's keepin' them down.

Continuing up the block I ran into Chris, a fellow Vespa rider, but not before trying a sample of "chili cheese cake." Until now I struggled to describe it, but now I realize that it pretty much tasted like key lime pie, which is sort of disconcerting.

Any way, Chris was with his girlfriend and some other friends. They turned out to be responsible for the Indian Chili, so I went back to try it. I can't even remember what it tasted like, so take that as you will.

As our travels continued, I tried all kinds of unremarkable chili and a few spicy kinds that tasted like they had booze in them. For some reason, people think that adding booze to food increases its refinement . Maybe it stems from never abandoning the 14-year-old mentality of "Mem-Mem and Pep-Pep made one of those rum cakes for the family reunion and I think I got drunk off it!" Straight liquor tastes bad enough as it is, so why would you want to have that flavor without the intoxicating benefits of alcohol?

Toward the end of my odyssey, we ran into Amber and Other Nate with their awesome dogs. The dogs asserted that they were indeed young and energetic, then everyone started talking about houses they wanted to buy and I took that as my cue to leave.

And, somehow, I didn't get gas or experience any after-burn.

***Chris has pointed out to me that I probably have a loose definition of what a hippy is. No offense is meant, though I tend to inadvertently offend people when writing about other humans so I should probably watch it.

The mystery sandwich: A guest column

2008-10-13T14:20:00.011-04:00

For the unfamiliar, Zingermans is a deli in Ann Arbor, Michigan where you can get a delicious sandwich for no less than $10. I have only had one of their sandwiches once. It was the best sandwich I have ever consumed, but I the interest from the small loan I took out to pay for it is killing me. Recently, my friend Travis proposed an ingenious plan: Write a guest entry about a FREE mystery sandwich from Zingermans. Here are the hummus-drenched fruits of his labor.

Pre-sandwich thoughts

In the interest of full disclosure, I should say that my main motivation for writing this piece isn’t the fact that I’ll soon have a writing degree. I am not writing because I am trying to make this blog great, though this will almost certainly be a side effect of my presence here. My motivation, fair readers, is the prospect of getting to eat a very expensive sandwich for free.

I’ve often considered how great it must be to be a food critic. People hand you large sums of money to eat food and write about it. What a life! Granted, my food expertise extends only to those items you can order from inside a running vehicle, I’ve always thought I’d be a pretty good ‘food writer.’ Consider this a small manifestation of that dream. Or see it for what it is—a thinly veiled plot to get free food. Honestly,the last guest blogger spent, what, 89 cents writing his piece? A sandwich at Zingerman’s Delicatessen is like ten bucks. You think Nate foots the bill? Not a chance. Last time I got food with Nate, the cheap bastard found the one Taco Bell with a broken credit card machine and stuck everyone else with the bill. (Not my fault I can’t be troubled with petty cash – Nate).

Anyway, as I write this, I am eagerly awaiting the arrival of the sandwich in question. For this column, I asked friend and fellow guest blogger Dan Smith to create a mystery sandwich for me to consume and write about. It is my job to guess the contents. There may be a scoring system …Who knows? Predictably, Dan didn’t come through, so his co-worker (and my roommate) Justin “Admiral” Nelson took up the task. There are just two criteria for this sandwich:

Must be vegetarian

Must be relatively palatable

The rest is left up to Mr. Nelson, who describes himself as “Your friendly neighborhood stoner.” This could be good or bad. I mean, who better to deliver a creative, flavorful masterpiece than a person with chronic munchies? On the other hand, he could just forget what he was supposed to do altogether and bring me a pound of bacon between two pieces of roast beef. He really does smoke that much weed. In fact, he called just now to see if I like spicy food. This should be very interesting. Also, I’m pretty sure the fact he called breaks the secrecy rule of the challenge, but I’d expect nothing less from a pot head of his caliber.

Analysis

Upon receiving the sandwich, I was fairly certain Justin had just wrapped a phone book in some Zingerman’s paper and doused it in sauce. It was so heavy … and sort of smelly. Fortunately, he hadn’t and my self-imposed I want to be really, really hungry when this sandwich gets here fasting was about to come to an end.

A cursory glance revealed what one would expect in a fancy vegetarian sandwich—tomato, spinach, onion, cheese, etc. Without much thought I dove right in. “Pretty tasty.” Second bite. “This is getting pretty spicy.” As I made my way though the sandwich, I began to wonder what the hell he did to the bread. It was toasted and reddish in color, so I assumed the heat was trapped in its toasted goodness. I really enjoy spicy food, and this was right at the boundary of what’s enjoyable and being a little too hot. Perhaps the heat didn’t mesh well with the rest of the sandwich, as I’ve never quite enjoyed the combination of raw mushrooms and fire before. All I can say is that something about the spiciness was unsettling. Moving on…

The cheese was phenomenal. I remember feeling intrigue at a friend (certified cheese expert, no less) telling me that a cheese exists that does not melt. This sandwich contained this wonderful cheese. (So did the infamous TACO SUB, apparently – Nate). It was a bit rubbery at first, but the flavor is more than good enough to allow this. I was told it’s called halloumi, but it tasted like an exceptionally thick, lukewarm chunk of mozzarella. That doesn’t sound incredibly appealing, but trust me. If I wore a monocle and drove an old-timey car I would eat halloumi everyday ($20/lb? Get out of here). The combination of the cheese and other ingredients somehow made for the perfect sandwich. It’s like all the imperfections I mentioned sort of banded together to give my tongue a giant rainbow hug.

All in all, I’d say the experience was a good one. While not eating until about 10PM sort of sucks, when you get a thirty-dollar (Justin’s estimate) sandwich out of the deal, it’s pretty worth it. Justin was supposed to reveal the contents of the sandwich to me after I ate and had a guess, but he never really got around to it. I guessed quite a few of the ingredients correctly based on sight, and I later learned the insane spiciness was the result of adding Clancy’s hot sauce to hummus. I guess the whole “I’m doing this for the free sandwich” thing came true, as I’ve never actually been told exactly what I ate. So long, suckers.

TACO SUB

2008-10-07T09:45:00.003-04:00

An email appeared in my inbox the other morning:

"Ever wonder what that sandwich taste like in the Fresh Food machine but don’t want to spend the $3 to find out you don’t like it.

Join us in the kitchen at 3:00 to taste some of the food items that are available in the fresh food machine. We will have bite size samples of items ranging from Holy Toledo Sandwich, bacon burger, Ham & Turkey club or Mexican breakfast pita. We don't know how long the samples will last so get there at 3.

This week we will be sending out a survey to see what items you would like to see in the machine. Also there will be a list of nutritional values of some of the items available in the machine.

The food is restocked 2-3 times a week, every item is guaranteed fresh and if not you will get your money back. Every item has a sell by date and will be removed by that date if not before."

It was shaping up to be quite the day. Not only did I get tipped off about the presence of Mountain Dew Revolution in the office, I would get to sample the contents of the "fresh food" vending machine for free.

I was obviously the first person to reach the kitchen. With the wide range of choices laid out for me, I wasn't sure what to do. I nearly backed down from the challenge. My eyes scanned the table. Then, there it was. TACO SUB.

Its sesame loaf was filled with orange beef, topped with onion, tomato, yellow pepper rings and a smattering of cheese. I took it back to my desk to ponder whether or not I would be able to consume such a thing. Since the original idea behind Nate's Plate was to document the new "fresh food" machine, I knew I had to.

I took a nibble of some of the spiced meat to see what I was up against. Not bad. I became bolder and bolder with each bite. The cheese strangely hadn't melted after 30 seconds in the microwave, but I never understood cheese any way.

The yellow peppers were remarkably fresh and crisp. They even left a neon yellow stain where they had been touching the bun.

I got about half way through my sample before it started falling apart. It was already cold from taking breaks to type between bites. I decided to quit while I was ahead.

Then, I tried to finish it to be a man, but my last bite revealed something. The outer shell of the bread was of remarkable construction. A bite from either end of the sub went as planned, but a nibble at the side of the bun failed to pierce the skin. It was like I needed a cross-cut pattern on my teeth.

This was surely the result of some sort of anti-sogginess additive, which is probably represented by the random appearance of the number 2008263 in the list of ingredients. If my mom couldn't make a sandwich hold up from the morning to school lunch time, a TACO SUB surely can't last for days in a vending machine without the help of some serious preservatives.

Also noteworthy is the fact that the packaging indicates that the TACO SUB offers .00 servings per container. This could possibly serve as a warning that such an item is not fit for consumption, but I managed.

Five minutes after the end of consumption, I felt fine, if not a bit apprehensive. The TACO SUB was shockingly edible, while undeniably cheap-tasting. The spiciness of the fixins probably aided this in no small way, but that is fine with me. It's highly unlikely that I will purchase anything from the machine again, especially after the incident I had with "BJ's Farms Sausage Breakfast Sandwiches" earlier this summer, but it's nice to know that there's an acceptable option out there.

Dewmocracy now! Mountain Dew Revolution

2008-09-30T08:35:00.003-04:00

A coworker approached my desk. "Nate, you'll be able to answer this question," he said. "What is that blue Mountain Dew in the vending machine?"

"!!!" I replied.

He asked if it was Baja Blast, which I had recently told him about. I replied that it was probably the end result of Mountain Dew's Dewmocracy campaign. My research indicates that Revolution (the beverage in question) was in the running, but Voltage was the real crowd pleaser. Though I have not had the pleasure of consuming Voltage yet, I could see why the Revolution was pacified.

I inserted my dollar into the vending machine, entered the coordinates of the beverage and it was dispensed to me.

I first noticed that the liquid was a blue-gray. Sort of like mop water poured into the bowl of a toilet with one of those blue dissolving bricks floating in the tank. I examined the bottle for a hint of what to expect and then I cracked the seal.

A smell identical to that of Baja Blast wafted out. It was fruity, yet musty, like the basement at Knott's Berry Farm. I was getting excited. Colleagues were stopping by my desk, asking me what the hell I was drinking.

A first sip revealed a flavor that was a cross between Baja Blast (the apple doesn't fall far from the tree in the Mountain Dew family) and something at the more unique end of the Arizona brand beverage spectrum. Swishing it around my mouth, I observed a nice tingle, and a slight bitterness at the lower sides of my tongue.

Revolution's flavor is absolutely restrained. It does not live up to its potential. It builds, nearing its peak, and abruptly stops. What causes such a thing? Too much water?

The bottle claims this beverage is "Dew® Drinker Designed." There is no hyphen, confounding the rules of compound modifiers. The real Dew-Drinker is probably not familiar with ginseng, so I am not so sure it was truly designed by the consumer. The Dew-Drinkers know this. I know this, and I don't really even drink soda (with Baja Blast being an exception as an accompaniment to Volcano Tacos).

I am proud to say that the caffeine-addled constituents of the Dewmocracy campaign have voted out the correct candidate. The way the flavor fails to build is really bumming me out.

Learn about the rest of this exciting day next time with my review of the TACO SUB.

Fan art! Wacky Wednesday bonus edition.

2008-09-24T09:05:00.007-04:00

Upon reading Nate's Plate for the first time, Tom, my office's design director, found himself inspired. And probably hungry. Then, this happened:

Thanks, Tom! To my thousands of loyal readers, feel free to send me more pictures of personified food.

12 Party Pleasers in Puff Pastry

2008-09-22T22:19:00.015-04:00

I have to start this thing off proper with a shout-out to my friend Haim. He runs Frosty Insides, a blog about the contents of refrigerators. When I first saw the title I thought it was rants about being emotionally damaged, which I found odd since he's the coolest dude I've met this year. Luckily, it's another gem from a local food enthusiast. Check me out on last week's Freezer Friday.
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There I was, on the final leg of my shopping trip at the Holiday Market. That's when I saw them. The alliteration was screaming at me from behind the frosty freezer door: "12 Party Pleasers in Puff Pastry."

I knew I had to write about them, with their fantastic use of Title Caps and alliteration. Plus, they were in the Kosher section. But, I almost walked away. As my distance from the curious item -- still in the freezer -- grew, my pace slackened. I stopped dead in my tracks. I had to go back for them.

I returned to the freezer aisle, much to the confusion of the couple in sweatpants who were deciding which "pizzas for one" to select. After at least 30 seconds, I found the little box that had caught my attention. I grabbed it and headed on my way, knowing I'd blow away my previously planned review of 7-11 hotdogs.

These little guys are "not recommended for microwave," so I took a rare opportunity to fire up the inside of my oven. This is an event typically reserved for Stouffer's French Bread Pizzas.

As the party pleasers became golden brown in my Whirlpool Super Capacity 465, I realized that they were somehow familiar. Then, it hit me. I had been served these items at my friends and fellow Vespa enthusiasts Amber and Nate's (yes we are many) house a few weeks ago. But, that was a few weeks ago, so I had to try them once again in order to provide the best possible review. Besides, I had already put them in the damn oven. So much for my plans to eat healthy now that I had turned 25.

Let's cut to the main course here, which ironically is an hors d'oeuvre.

After 15 to 20 minutes, I pulled the flaky, golden-brown morsels out of my oven. Although they had arrived in a tray with individual compartments, there was no guide to what was what and outward appearances were no help. It was time for a blind taste test.

With a choice between spinach and potato, spicy beef turnover and potato, I was pretty certain the first was of the potato variety. I expected it to be undercooked but it was just right. There were hints of garlic and the potato had perfect consistency. It was like a really nice spin on potato and onion pierogi.

Next up was potato and spinach, which was quite disappointing. I would describe its taste as boring. I could only bring myself to eat one.

Finally, I had decided that the large triangles were the beef turnovers. Amazing! I had inadvertently saved the best for last. The beef was somewhat in paste form and tasted like something from the Orient.

I won't recount my experience piece by piece, but I will say this: Party Pleasers in Puff Pastry made me very thirsty and the beef ones had a nice spice to them that lingered in the back of my throat. I really needed an Arnold Palmer iced tea with some gin in it to wash my snack down.

The real question: Would I promptly place these party pleasers in puff pastry on a table at a party for my guests to enjoy?

If I was for some reason hosting a party at my one-bedroom upper flat, yes. The fact that they made me crave booze is a sign of success. Plus, people would mistakenly think I was cultured and my vegetarian friends would probably enjoy the bland spinach puffs. As a service to my guests, I would also have to provide breath mints.

Don't hold your breath for any parties, though.

One man's experience with Volcano Tacos: A guest column

2008-09-16T09:52:00.008-04:00

My friend Dan turned me onto Volcano Tacos via twitter. Though I have since become quite the VT enthusiast (I once ate five and a large Baja Blast in one sitting) I felt that it was only fair to let him review them. Here it is, with only one word changed.

When Nate, an old college friend, asked me to do a guest piece for the distinguished Nate’s Plate, I was honored, but not entirely surprised. I’ve been somewhat of a connoisseur of Taco Bell for most of my life, and considering the fact that 25% of the blood that flows through my veins is Mexican, Nate would be hard-pressed to find a more qualified reviewer.

I stumbled upon the Volcano Taco by accident while making a routine “run for the border.” Advertisements for the new menu item were plastered in every window as I pulled into the drive-through, and there was no question: I absolutely had to try one.

Although the prospect of yet another Taco Bell menu choice had me drooling, I had almost no idea what to expect. I had yet to see a commercial for the Volcano Taco, and the drive-through posters merely displayed a large taco with some kind of colored shell. I was immediately reminded of the Big Taste Taco (a recent fourthmeal invention released with the new and improved value menus), which I found to be rather lackluster and somewhat of a gimmick. Thus, not entirely unwary, I placed my order, crossing my fingers that this wouldn’t end up being just another Bacon Club Chalupa.

My first impression upon unwrapping the Volcano Taco: it looks exactly like a regular “crunchy” taco, except the damn thing is red. I knew there had to be more to the picture, however, so I fervently took my first bite. As I masticated that first mouthful, I still detected nothing setting it apart from a standard taco. But then I examined the taco’s innards. The bite I’d taking allowed me to view a vivisection of sorts, all the layers of ingredients laid bare.

All of the typical makings were present: shredded cheddar cheese on top of shredded lettuce and about a half-inch of Taco Bell’s famous seasoned beef. At this point I was sure I’d been had, until I noticed something else. Just above the beef, there appeared to be some sort of cheese sauce which had been hidden too deeply inside the taco to be included in my first sampling. Knowing this must be the secret of the Volcano Taco, its one defining characteristic, I took another bite.

The cheese sauce, or “cheesy lava sauce” as it is referred to on the restaurant’s web site, was very similar to the standard nacho cheese sauce featured in other menu items, but with a little bit of a spicy kick at the finish. Hardly comparable to sensation of putting a tablespoon of actual molten rock on my tongue, but still enough to add a bold and zesty twist.

I applaud Taco Bell for continuing to at least attempt to innovate the fast food industry. In an unstable economic climate where the trend has been rising prices and shrinking portion sizes, Taco Bell has flown in the face of convention by introducing bigger and better things at an absurdly low cost to the diner.

That being said, the Volcano Taco does not have a whole lot to offer in the way of innovation. Although not quite a gimmick, it’s certainly one of the more novel additions to the Taco Bell menu. It’s an interesting new take on the tried and true crunchy taco, and at just $.89*, there’s really no reason not to try it.

The new Volcano Taco is also currently available as part of the promotional “Big Bell Box Meal”, which includes the taco, a burrito supreme, a crunchwrap supreme, cinnamon twists, and a large drink (Baja Blast of course being the only choice for serious fourthmealers). My local Taco Bell prices this deal at $4.99, but this may vary from location to location.

* Prices may vary by location. They cost $.99 in Ferndale. -Nate

Burger King Onion Rings Flavored Snacks, reviewed

2008-09-09T08:53:00.008-04:00

There was a bag sitting on my desk for a week. Everyone was asking about it. And my guest columnist did not come through. So yesterday, just before noon, I broke the seal on my 1.125-oz. bag of Burger King Onion Rings Flavored Snacks, which I purchased from the vending machine in my office.

My initial impressions of the first ring out of the bag:

It looks like a circular Taco Bell Cinnamon Twist

It smells like a Funyun with a hint of cheese -- minus one point

It tastes like a weak Funyun -- a negative for the taste buds but a plus for post-snack meeting attendance

It leaves a light, fine residue on your fingers -- not at all sticky or obtrusive

The Onion Rings Flavored Snacks' consistency is sort of "powdery" once bitten. They are not as coarse as Funyuns. And, they're certainly easier to eat than a real onion ring because you don't have to worry about taking a bite that takes the whole inner onion with it, leaving the doughy shell. The flavor is also more consistent than that of the real thing.

There is also an underlying hint of "rice cake," which makes sense considering that this item's description includes the phrase "puffed snacks."

The phrase "deep crunch" is also used, and I feel that this is wholly inaccurate. "Deep crunch" should only be used to describe the sort of snack that cannot be consumed in a classroom with a "no food or drink" policy without being audibly noticed.

Slight digression:
Whenever I have an interesting food item on my desk, my coworkers feel that it's necessary to inspect its nutrition facts. I will be very depressed when I get to this age. For now, I make my food intake decisions based only on flavor potential and novelty. Any way ...

Although I tend to write about the experience of eating instead of evaluating products, I feel that Burger King Onion Rings Flavored Snacks deserve a rating on a numerical scale. And that rating is 5.5 out of 10. I didn't dislike them, yet I would probably never think of them again if it weren't for this blog.

On the divine pleasures of the chocolate pastry

2008-09-02T10:37:00.003-04:00

There are times in our lives when we owe a little treat to ourselves and this morning was one of those times.

I had to wake up at an unreasonable hour today to get to work extra early. I typically need about two hours before I can eat in the morning, but when I wake up early, I am hungry right away. As I piloted my Saturn (soon to be for sale) across Oakland County, I realized I only had one choice for breakfast: To stop at the local Panera for a chocolate pastry.

Here is the seldom-seen underside. This may look like the profile of the worst hamburger imaginable, but no. That brown is pure chocolate stock. And look -- It's giving you a slight, coy, "c'mere" grin.

"Put me in your mouth," it says.

I popped this baby in the microwave for 12 seconds so it was warm but instantly consumable and I was briefly transported to a world far far away from writing about Dodge's NASCAR endeavors.

The chocolate pastry takes the extreme boredom of croissant consumption and inverts it using a chocolate rod. You owe one to yourself.

One man's take on the shrimp system: A guest column

2008-08-26T17:05:00.016-04:00

Dear dedicated readers, I hate to repeat a subject so early on but my pal John Thornton has collected his thoughts on my shrimp system and on the joys of shrimp and white wine. I figured it's appropriate to share with you since he and I are once again off to Shrimp Lovers' Tuesday tonight. Here it is, unedited, in the words of the observer.

John Thornton on the shrimp system

It must've been about ought five or six when I was first introduced to Nate's shrimp system. I was a loud-mouthed young buck in those days, veins full of piss and vinegar, thought I knew everything there was to know about eating the various shellfish, including shrimp. Nasty Nate (as we called him those days) invited me to accompany him to "Shrimp Lovers Tuesday" at the local Red Lobster. Owing to my fondness for the Cheddar Bay Biscuits, I agreed.

What I witnessed next changed my dining self forever. When our shrimp arrived, I sat in awe and watched a seasoned master practice his craft. Nate's efficiency of dissecting the little crustaceans was marvelous. Each move of the fork methodical, not a single wasted slice of the knife. It was as if he was channeling Black Flag's "The First Four Years" into an eating system. It was easily the densest batch of jams I had ever seen.

This was my introduction to "Nate Rogers' Shrimp System." Each time I dine at Red Lobster, I use this system.

*Cue "Like a Rock" by Bob Seger*

The shrimp system / Shrimp Lovers' Tuesday

2008-08-19T22:17:00.018-04:00

Back in college, my friend John and I used to regularly visit the Red Lobster in Ypsilanti to partake in Shrimp Lovers' Tuesday -- a magical event this side of Cheddar Bay when you can get 40 pieces of shrimp for under $20. I always ordered all scampi.
Well, John is back in town before heading off to grad school, so we hit the Red Lobster in Madison Heights, not only for old times' sake, but also to document the shrimp consumption system I developed over the course of those magical nights. Here it is, fully documented for the first time.

How to get the most out of your shrimp with my shrimp system:

Order as much shrimp as you possibly can. On a Tuesday at Red Lobster, that means four orders, or 40 shrimp. You must order a baked potato and you must order it without sour cream. You’ll see why.
If you are a particularly unreasonable person, you can order more than one meal. The only proper beverage to wash it down with is a white wine, because everyone knows shrimp and white wine go great together. I prefer the Riesling.

1. The first step is to eat all of the shrimp bodies and set the tails aside. Don’t worry; you’re saving all the tail meat for later!

2. As the trays of delicious garlic butter become devoid of shrimp, you can use them and their contents to saturate your baked potato.

This is where the system really starts to work. Pay close attention.

3. Take your fork and stab it through the shrimp tail just behind where the meat runs out.

4. Insert your butter knife under the end of the tail to pry up the shell. Pull the fork away.

5. Holding the end of the knife at the base of the meat where you initially inserted the fork, use the fork to extract the delicious meat.

6. Enjoy the meat that you have successfully saved to savor without getting your hands dirty. Now as a reward, dig into that garlic-butter-saturated baked potato. If you can’t finish it and your friends call you out, remind them to shut their fool mouths because they sure as hell didn’t just eat 40 pieces of shrimp.

So, there you have it folks. I encourage you all to transport your taste buds to the sea shore with a delicious order of shrimp scampi, and to get the most out of it with my shrimp system. Bon appetit!

Appetizer

2008-08-13T08:54:00.001-04:00

My name is Nate and I really like food.

Fun facts:

I ...

... live in Ferndale, Michigan, a northern suburb of Detroit.

... get paid to write advertisements about cars, but I think I would be better at writing ads about food. Or songs about food.

... weigh 135 pounds and have weighed that much for as long as I can remember. I am about 6 feet tall.

... love popcorn. I could eat a steak dinner then go out to a movie and still eat popcorn. I wouldn't share it and I would be done eating it before the feature presentation starts. My office just got a movie theater style popcorn machine and I eat at least two bags a day. It's becoming a problem.

... love pizza. I will never get sick of pizza. I used to come home every day after high school, eat a Stouffer's pepperoni French bread pizza and burn the roof of my mouth. I ate a $5 pizza from little Caesar's on 9/11 (not saying I didn't care, that's just my memory of that day. Also, this was when $5 pizza at LC's was a weekly special).

... strongly dislike most dairy products. The only exceptions are cheese on pizza (unless there is too much -- then I gag) and nacho cheese (because, let's face it, that's not real cheese any way).

... apparently really like parentheses.

... do not have a copy editor. Sorry.

I love to eat and I find food to be amusing in general. It logically follows that you will love this blog and find it to be amusing in general.

For now, though, it's nice out, so the updates will be on the "lighter fare" side until I get stuck inside. Until then, check me out on Twitter.