I’ve been told I’m a picky eater. I consider it a compliment. You should discriminate. Don’t be one of those people that just takes whatever is given to them.
If you want to eat a Dodger Dog or a Jumbo Jack that’s fine. Just accept the fact that you’re a fucking moron though.
Once you categorize yourself as such, you can comfortably enjoy your 7-11 pizza over a DVR’d episode of Young Sheldon while skimming a Buzzfeed listical on your cell while your daughter is being fondled by the mormon handyman.
Why fight America when you can just embrace it.
I stick to a limited list of places when I dine out in Los Angeles, which is the city I live in.
I frequent these places not so much because I am thoroughly wowed by the food, I just know from experience that they have a very low ratio of fucking shit up to making something definitively edible.
There was this one sushi restaurant I used to go to. I went there twice a month for ten years. One time they served me mushy rice and I was like fuck this place, and have never been back.
I’m looking for consistency. Not McDonald’s level consistency. Not something consistently bad. Something consistently okay.
I like Anthony Bourdain as a personality. And I understand thrill seeking behavior.
But, not when it comes to food.
I’ll take a grilled cheese sandwich over any, and I mean any, local custom.
Trust me, people in second, third, or fourth tier cities can fuck up anything, and I mean anything.
We’ve all had this experience.
You’re in a new city.
There’s the mom and pop diner, and the Applebee’s right across the street.
The diner could be a 9, or it could be a 2.
I’m a betting man.
I’ll take the 5.
Act like you’re superior Anthony.
We all know when the cameras aren’t rolling, you’d do the exact same thing.
Been burned too many times now.
One time I was in a suburb of Louisville (pronounced Lawvul) Kentucky.
There were no restaurants open at around 11 pm, except for a Buffalo Wild Wings.
So, I went, and I’m perusing the menu, not thinking “what do I want”, but, “what can these people fuck up the least?”
I settle on a cheese quesadilla.
Nearly impossible to fuck up.
Well, they did.
You know how when you get a quesadilla they often serve pico de gallo, sour cream, and or guacamole on the side?
Well, this genius line cook decided to put the pico de gallo INSIDE of the quesadilla.
A bold move.
Unfortunately, the onions contained within this pico de gallo had gone rancid several days prior. I could taste the five gallon bucket, and I could tell that the sole line cook and the manager on duty were carrying out some sort of intimate relationship, and that likely they were both married to other people.
I didn’t give a shit about this, but I couldn’t help but wonder if the line cook’s (fairly unprecedented) decision to put the pico de gallo INSIDE of the quesadilla was some pathetic attempt at impressing his manager/lover.
I don’t like having to think about these things.
I just need 400 calories, not including condiments.
Oh, I’ve taken the adventurous route.
Spokane Washington.
Open faced turkey sandwich.
Never going back.
So, when you’re at a new place in a new city, these are the things you should order, if you subscribe to my philosophy that 1,000 okay experiences is preferable to 500 amazing seafood choices and 500 disappointments.
1. Fried mozzarella. I have gotten this at the Cheesecake Factory and at some bullshit pretentious restaurant on Abbot Kinney and also at some sketchy biker bar in central California. It’s always great. Even if you take those plastic wrapped string cheeses and batter and fry them, they are delicious. Most importantly, impossible to fuck up. Most places get them from Costco, as people often point out, and as if this bothers me. No, get the salmon dill wrap, Evil Knievel. Fucking retard.
2. Scrambled eggs and hashed browns. Bad hashed browns are still delicious. You don’t want to go over easy. It’s a superior way to cook an egg, but Sloth will leave a film on top of them, leaving you regretting your entire life. You cannot send them back. Don’t double down on 19 next time.
3. Any vegetable based soup. See, when vegetables get old, they turn soft. Soup is soft, so it’s a natural progression. Yes, I know this soup exists because the drunken general manager meant to type 1 pound of carrots into the Excel but instead put 11. I don’t give a shit, Kiersten. How’s that pastrami sandwich working out? Seems you’ve been picking at it for a while. Asshole.
4. Grilled cheese sandwich. Nearly impossible to fuck up. Even if you just served me raw bread and two slices of cheese, I would be able to stick it in my back pocket and make a passable meal within 5-10 minutes, depending on the climate. It also goes great with a dipping sauce of tomato soup. Do I know that this is actually just Campbell’s Tomato Soup? Yeah, I do. I know all kinds of things that you don’t know, and I’ve always hated you.
5. Pad Thai. Hold the meat. I’ve never heard someone say, you know, I do enjoy rice noodles with a sweet sauce and bean sprouts, but what I need more of are these incredibly pale lifeless shards of chicken. Me: You know, in their culture eating dog is totally customary. You: That’s racist. Me: No, it isn’t.
6. Miso soup. It comes in a package and you add water. It does not require fresh ingredients. I’ve never been like, man, that miso really changed my life. But I’ve also never been like, that was some bullshit miso.
7. Just ask the waitress what people like. This is more or less a game of chess because they’re not supposed to admit that nobody has ever ordered half the menu. Depends on where you are in the country or if there’s a manager on duty. They try and hedge their recommendations by saying a variation of this: “Well, most people like…” or “I personally prefer the ____ but, some people like rancid krill shrimp the size and color of Donald Trump’s penis.” I read you. I read you loud and clear. Let’s go with the grilled cheese. Good choice. No shit.
8. Chips in a bag. You pick.
9. Since I’m not getting paid for this and have no obligation to generate bullshit filler, the list is over. You really only need to know about the eggs and hashed browns.
Once in Denver I ordered a vegetarian omelette at a sports bar. I know. It came out smothered in a grey gravy. Now, I think gravy is gross, but that’s beside the point. Omelette and gravy certainly do not mix. I think there was hamburger in the gravy? Lord knows. If you think, in your head, as a cook, to put gravy on a FUCKING omelette, then you’re either a total revolutionary (highly unlikely), or severely incompetent. This is highly common in situations where people are incompetent.
This is why you just do the eggs and hashed browns. Yeah, Matt, you have no idea what you’re talking about. You need a box for that cheesesteak? Nope. It sucks being always right.
I bet most of you skipped the opening paragraphs because you are intrinsically drawn to lists.
10. You’re the fucking problem with America. Calm down, everything is fine, just focus, and read.
