You walk in and there's a good jewish bakery smell, something you don't get at second rate delis like Milton's for instance. This place is for real. First thing you do is check out the large crock of pickles. The better ones are usually near the bottom. They brought us out decent rye bread and butter. Stan had eaten halvah in the car and I was worried about his appetite but he soldiered on like a trooper.
I had a corned beef and tongue fresser with good potato salad. Stan decided to tackle a half order of chicken liver which was plenty. Waitress said that they didn't have any water bagels but they had plain. Oy! We split a big fat knish.
I brought home corned beef for the spouse who made us a beautiful omelet yesterday.
*
I got lost trying to find the right parking structure when I got to the campus. I have no orientation ability. Stan, one of my closest autosomal genetic cousins, is the same way. We don't take direction well. And got turned around at one of my alma maters, no less.
We made it to the game with plenty of time to spare. The papers said that the team struggled and the first half was close, McNeese State played hard but the final score was 65 to 36 and we played our scrubs at the end so how much of a struggle could it have really been?
*
Read books and chilled and never left the couch yesterday which really felt great. Les made a nice light dinner.
*
Kudos to the Mormons for Equality and all the rest of the long ostracized Utahans who will now be able to be legitimately married in that state. The state's argument was so specious; they argued that Utah's law promotes the state's interest in "responsible procreation" and the "optimal mode of child-rearing." I guess my wife and my marriage isn't sanctified, responsible or optimal since we decided to bypass the whole breeding thing. Governor wants Court to recognize the will of the people. A majority backed slavery too, sometimes the feds need to step up, and I am glad that they did this time. The times, they are, a changing. Finally. But all you dinosaurs feel free to keep your clenching, iron grip on the past. Because it will be gone before you know it.
*
I had to go to San Diego again this morning to see another painting and decided to finally try a place I have heard so much about, Carnitas Snack Shack. It is located between University Heights and North Park, on University, in a neighborhood of quaint little bungalows, real close to where I was born. I cut off a woman on the way there and she started flipping me off and hurling course epithets. I rolled the window down to give her a little back and had an epiphany that this one could have probably kicked my ass on my best day, shoulder notwithstanding, and split.
This restaurant has been the most sizzling, trendy hot, joint in these parts for a couple years and I was way overdue for a visit. A big time chef who decided to get back to basics and opened up the penultimate taco shop.
The line stretches a city block. I got in line in the quite blazing December sun and wondered if it could in any way be worth it? I could be slurping egg flower soup up on Convoy in a matter of minutes. But what the heck, it was my duty, to all of you. And to my country.
When I finally made it where I could make out the makeup board I realized that the food looked interesting and was not cheap either. I would have to make some choices.
I talked to the people around me and quizzed them on their past selections. Carnitas sounded like a must.
I decided to try the triple threat pork sandwich, a melange of pork loin schnitzel, pulled pork, bacon, pepperoncini and aoli on a good bun. I swigged down a mexican coke with it and it was all pretty good. A bit complicated for my palette but lots of interesting textural levels. An obvious commitment to quality and local sourced foods. Even delicious.
Walking down to the place I passed a normal "bertos" type mexican restaurant that served tacos de cabeza and I imagine lengua and I wondered for a second what they thought of the crazy gringos doing their home cuisine with lines a mile long down the street? And where I would be ultimately happier dining, being a born sucker for the original?
I ordered some smoked brisket to take home and carnitas for my wife. Made friends with a pathologist from Seattle and his stepmother, Lena. Talked about old punk rock and this and that and she was sweet enough to give me an incredible css salted caramel. Thank you both. Hope that you enjoy the blog.
I had almost finished the entree when I realized that I had not taken any forensic pictures of the evidence, a no no in today's world to miss the selfie. So here goes. Sorry, I was hungry...
1 comment:
god, i am so jelous. stop me before i eat another old elpaso frozen taquito...from the wasteland of canada where mexican food is tobasco sauce...buzz
Post a Comment