Cake cuts, may you rest in peace (Hon Cafe)

So I haven't been writing very much lately. Sorry to disappoint the few of you who actually read this shiz, but I most likely won't be quitting my job just so I can accelerate heart disease and live penniless as a food blogger. Plus, I kinda like the whole 'free food' thing at work. Anyway, I know what most of you are thinking: "I don't need to hear your BS excuses, dance monkey! Dance!" Yeah yeah, I'm getting to the part where I shove food in my mouth and write about how it arouses, and then exits, me for your super great enjoyment. Okay, let me ask you something... have you ever had cake cuts? No? How does it feel to have never lived, loved, and experienced life to the fullest? I bet it sucks. Now you might be asking yourself "what the fuck are cake cuts? That just sounds straight dumb." Well, jokes on you - cake cuts are the single greatest thing that could ever happen to (and disappear from) Chinatown in the history of forevertown.

Growing up... one of my guiltiest pleasure foods were those Swiss roll cakes that Chinese bakeries make - beautiful 10" logs of nothing more than porous sponge cake spread with a delicately thin layer of some sort of cream. Mmm - dat cream. I could easily kill two or three of those things in a single sitting (have I mentioned I was fat) without any ill effects. Shameful? Yes. Delicious? Also yes. The fact that they were so deceptively light meant it felt okay shoving slice after slice after slice in my mouth as if I were Zeus and I was just slaying bitches left and right.



That's besides the point. The point? When you roll up a cake, the ends inevitably look like retarded nubbins of browned bits. Not very aesthetically pleasing. Once you cut that shit off though - boom - your cake looks straight sensual again. But what of those cake nubbins... what happens to them? Hon Cafe (now replaced by some ass-clown generic Chinese restaurant) used to do something magical. Each unfortunate looking orphan cake butt would be set aside and placed in a bag along with its fellow rejected brethren. They would then sell these gigantic bags of deformed Swiss rolls for $2. What a deal. "Shut up about your bag of dumb looking cakes!" you say? I can understand why you might not entirely appreciate how spectacular a bag of cake is, and all I can say to that is... eat a dick. A whole bag of them. You don't understand what it's like to have something so special, so sensual, taken from you shortly after discovery. Some things in life. They are not fair.



Hon Cafe wasn't a one trick pony though - not that they really needed to be good at anything aside from collecting rejected cake cuts and selling them to me at drug deal prices - they were actually a full fledged restaurant, that did other things moderately well too.



They do all the standard HK diner type dishes, including a savory guilty pleasure of mine... 乾炒牛和 a.k.a. beef chow fun. Look at that shit. By shit I mean oil. This motherfucker is so greasy I can see my reflection in the noodles, which is the only way I want to eat chow fun. Now I've explained this dish so many times already that I've lost count, but it's worth reiterating. The complexity of this dish is non-existent. You stir-fry marinated beef, onions, bean sprouts, and rice noodles together in a wok over a giant fire, you coat that shit with more oil than the Exxon Valdez, and boom - the combination of high heat, integration of fat, and the Maillard reaction happen. Non-enzymatic browning of carbohydrates. Tell me that phrase doesn't turn you on in the least. No? You're a goddamn liar. Science is sexy.



Rice noodles don't get you all greased up and hot and bothered? That's chill. Hon Cafe also made one of my favorite 'burgers.' I put quotes around burgers because I'm sure some dickweed will call me out on it not being a true 'All-American beef burger with lettuce cheese and tomatoes.' It's true, the Hon Cafe cheeseburger isn't that... instead, it's a wonderful concoction built on a light seeded bun (which is kinda a bummer since they used to use a spongy white Chinese bun thing baked in house which was delicious in its own right) that has a patty concoction formed by a mix of beef, pork, sweet soy, garlic, and onions - which gave it a sweet garlic-laden aftertaste that can only be described as similar to a five-spice meatloaf. Marry that to a slice of American cheese and a layer of lettuce and tomato and you get a non-generic 'burger' that I don't think will be replicated by any other restaurant anytime soon. This is honestly one of those cases in which the subtle differences overcome the simplicity and generic nature of a food. Short story, it is dope. It tastes like China.

What's the point of this post? What are the five stages of emotions you deal with after trauma? Denial, check. I saw the metal door down once and thought those peeps were straight chillin'. Gonna fuck up some more cakes to give me the next day. I was wrong. Anger, check. I was furious at myself for not going every day after work to pick up a bag of glorious cream cakes. Bargaining, maybe not this one. Depression, hell to the yes. Tears were shed. Does that make me less manly? Fuck you. I love cake. Acceptance? Yeah not yet. This post is supposed to be for me to vent. Hopefully I can come to terms that something I had fallen so hard for (so fast) is gone forever. I know that feel bro.

tl;dr - Hon Cafe, you were the shit. You made my life infinitely better by collecting orphan cake rejects and selling them for well below market-value. While most people probably didn't see them for their worth because they were unfortunate looking, I knew that each and every one of them was special. Special enough to be shoved in my mouth rapidly. Also, you made really good beef chow fun and a weirdly sugary burger. I miss you. Goodnight... sweet prince. You were a gargantuan amongst men. By which I mean bakeries.

Hon Cafe (closed)
70 Mott St, New York, NY 10013
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HK-style French toast (Cha Chan Tang)

Do you know why I gave up on my PhD so prematurely? It's because innovating shit is hard. Every time you think you've come up with some pimp-ass novel idea, you go online to Google that shit, and 10 times out of 10, I bet you some butthole in Turkmenistan has already done it. I frequently found myself thinking "fuck that guy, why didn't I think of that?" What does this stupid story about one of my life's greatest failures have to do with food? Well, the French toast that they serve at Cha Chan Tang is kinda like that. For the majority of my life, I've enjoyed my French toast the traditionally defined (and already delicious) way - simply bread that's fried in an egg-laden batter. Butter, oil, bread, and eggs... that shit was pretty dope already, when suddenly, some guy halfway around the world in Hong Kong decided "shit son. All junk tastes better when peanut butter is involved!" and proceeded to go ape-shit in the kitchen and fucked some PB between some bread, fried it, and put some syrup on top. Not just any syrup... golden maltose syrup. Why is that better? Because butter. No, seriously - hell if I know - it just is.



What treasures might hide inside that golden crust of heart disease and high cholesterol?

On the exterior, this appears to be a regular piece of French toast. Sure, it looks perfectly goldened, and yeah it looks crispier than a freshly ironed shirt, but to say that it's "slightly better than that junk that you get at IHOP" would be like slapping your mother in the face. Legitimately disrespectful to how sick this dish is... also to your mother, who is probably a lovely person. But inside this crisp, oil-drenched, butter-laden, deep-fried egg on carbohydrate love train is a dark dark secret, one full of monounsaturated and polyunsaturated fats. Ooh baby. I love it when foods get all chemically sexy and jizz.



What's really good? Peanut butter. I think they actually butter the insides of the bread (in addition to the giant pat they melt on top) before applying the peanut butter, so it's got that going for it too. Actually, to be honest, I can't really tell, because basically the entire thing is a hot mess of porous bread soaked with various types of oil products. When you that small dish of maltose syrup on top... GG, shit gets intense. Like camping. Maltose syrup has somewhat of a distinct taste and is far more viscous than the standard grade-A maple you might get from a squeeze bottle - combining it with the subtle notes of savory from the egg and the sweet saltiness of the pb makes for a strange flavor profile that's as delicious as it is confusing. Let's put it this way, it's kind of similar to how you might feel if your best friend's little sister is really attractive, but at the same time looks kind of like him, so it's as creepy as it is awesome. Exactly like that.



They also have pork chop sandwiches (obligatory G.I. Joe PSA video...). Now I'm not going to talk shit about $4 sandwich that has a pork chop inside, but I wasn't exactly as impressed with this as I was with the PB French toast. In Hong Kong, they do pork cutlet sandwiches too... which at the time I wasn't so hot on. Now, thinking back, those bitches are pretty great for $2 a piece. At Cha Chan Tang, they put healthy stuff in there. Vegetables and whatnot (WTF tomatoes). I'm not really okay with that. They also use non-buttered plain white bread, which is kind of a confusing to me since they butter the crap out of everything else. Lame. At least they cut off the crust. I guess I lied, I pretty much talked shit about this sandwich for an entire paragraph - don't get it if you go.



Apparently, people in Hong Kong also know how to cook Portuguese stuff (probably from being occupied for so long. Haha owned). There's this dish on the menu called 'Portuguese chicken casserole' which, unsurprisingly, comprises of chicken, rice, and cheese. I don't really know what else really goes into this dish, but I know when it came to the table... all I could think was "holy crap, that looks like someone took a dump over some rice and reheated it in an oven with cheese." Good thing it didn't taste that way. Flavorwise, it's like a cream of chicken blend mixed with cheese that also has hints of curry. The strong taste of spices complements the smoothness of the dairy pretty well, and I really have nothing but awesome memories of this aside from the visuals. Again, this just solidifies my unified theory of "foods that look like shit taste dope."



Have you ever had fried squid with pepper and salt? No? Wow, your life up to this point must've sucked pretty badly. This is one of those dishes that's synonymous with street food in almost all of Asia. I know Taiwan has it, and I guess Hong Kong does too. I bet Koreans love this 'ish too. It's nothing complex in execution, but there's something fantastically delicious in the simplicity. The squid itself is kind of rubbery and provides that eraser-like texture I want in all of my foods. With just a hint of seafood flavor, what you're mostly tasting is breadcrumbs doped with salt and pepper. It's kinda like eating fried chicken skin (the best part), but having something elastic to chew on at the same time. I realize this all sounds pretty stupid and probably off-putting, but I assure you it's not. Cha Chan Tang's version certainly could be better (it's neither crispy nor spiced enough), but it's adequate for satiating that slight bit of nostalgia. Additional unnecessary commentary: yes, I did start scratching shortly after consumption. Kind of worth it.

tl;dr - Innovating shit is mad hard. Good job to the guy who decided to add peanut butter to French toast. Also maltose syrup instead of maple. Maple can eat a dick. Basically, go to Cha Chan Tang and get yourself some French toast and bubble tea. Dope combination is dope.

Cha Chan Tang
45 Mott Street, New York, 10013
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Just another Italian sandwich (Di Bruno Bros)

So peep this, way back in 1939, two brothers - Joe and Danny Di Bruno - made the trip from the old country across the Atlantic to Philadelphia. Their story is not unlike that of another famous pair of Italian brothers who went by the names of Mario & Luigi. The latter two, are plumbers who risk their lives hopping from castle to castle on the basis of a giant lie that there'd be some super hot princess waiting for them, when really... it was just a demented midget toad. Similarly, the Di Bruno brothers "came to America where rumor had it that the streets were paved with gold"... only to discover that some fucker back in Italy was totally lying when he said that. Instead, they found cobblestones that were probably paved mostly with horse manure. Unlike the more famous tandem who brought Nintendo massive fame, these brothers chose not to walk the path of drugs and mushrooms, but instead chose to make something of themselves. They became... CHEESEMONGERS. Also they sell meats.

Naturally, because they are Italian, they set up shop in the heart of the Italian market. If you've never been, you really should. As soon as you open that door, it's like a bunch of cows started farting cheese straight into your face. So instead of shit particles hitting your olfactory nerve... it's pure dairy bliss. It's a scent that's a mix of virtually any kind of cheese you could ever think of... literally impossible to describe. But I'm not here to talk about cheese today. Everyone in Philly knows that Di Bruno Bros' makes dope ass cheese. That's like someone telling me I look Asian. Of course I do. No, what I'm going to talk about today is their deli. Little known fact - they also make dope ass sandwiches.



At their Rittenhouse location, they have an upstairs cafe that supposedly sells sweet-ass specialty sandwiches... things like muffulettas and crab cake brioche sandwiches. I wouldn't know. When I went they were doing "renovations" at the time. Whatever... I settled for the downstairs deli counter. For $8.99 they'll build pretty much whatever you want when it comes to meat, bread, cheese. Deciding not to screw with a good thing, I went with the classic combo of roast beef, provolone, and broccoli rabe on a French (to be ironic/because I'm a hipster) baguette.



Shit son, those Italian dudes... they start by layering the bread with a cm solid of sliced cheese - good cheese - then stack on another cm layer of oily greens (the best kind of greens), and finally pile on layer after layer of roast beef. They legit packed more silky tender meat in this sandwich than I can quantify... but I will. It was at least a half-pound... easy. Aside from that, there's not much I can do to explain why it tastes good. It just does. I don't really have any complaints about a sandwich that weigh in close to a pound yo.
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Italian sandwiches and my motivations for blogging (Paesano's Philly Style)

After my rant a couple of weeks ago, I realized it's really easy to criticize people for doing things the wrong way for all the wrong reasons. I also realized I sounded like an asshat who just complains a lot about trivially pointless things (not that I take back any of what I said). Anyway, after reading through all the comments on that post, then reading Danny's post on his purpose for blogging, I've been giving a lot of thought as to why I still manage to continuously trick myself into wasting time writing posts devoid of actual content on a semi-consistent basis. I won't lie and claim that I write for the "love of the food" - not that I don't love food... just that it would be dishonest to claim that as the sole reason for this blog's existence - nah, in this here post I'll spill my brains on my motivations for keeping this nonsense up, and talk about some pimp ass sandwiches from one of my favorite places in Philly - Paesano's Philly Style.

Paesano's is in the Italian market area (although there's one in the Northern Libs too). They make Italian sandwiches if that wasn't obvious enough. Wait, no that's not exactly right. They make fantastically kick ass sandwiches built on seductively delicious bread. Credit given where credit's due. They were on that stupid Bobby Flay show Throwdown once. I'm pretty sure Bobby boy's sandwich (which surely contained some idiotic infusion of chipotle mayo) got violated by the OG Italian dudes who work at Paesano's.



Paesano's menu is something glorious to behold. It only consists of about a dozen or so sandwiches, so it's not awesome because there's a bunch to choose from, but if you read through the ingredients of each... you'll constantly find yourself wondering "why would they put _____ in a sandwich with _____?" Will that actually taste good? I have not eaten all of them, but I assure you the answer is yes. Always yes. Also, the sandwiches are handwritten on chalkboards so it's got that hipster artsy feel to it. I hate hipsters, but I love the quaintness of their handwritten menus.



The "Liveracce." While it's affectionately named after the effeminately beautiful pianist Liberace, the fact that they're both fabulous is the only thing they share in common. It's $8 of carbs filled with - amongst other things - fried chicken livers, layers of salami, roasted tomatoes, and Gorgonzola cheese topped with garlic mayo and an orange preserve sauce. Shit son, I don't even like eating liver (they have this weird... gameyness that I can't quite deal with) and I downed it without complaint. It might've been the shield of salami blanketing the liver, or it might've been the strength of the cheese, but the liver was more or less just there to provide a contrasting crispy/creamy mouthfeel (ugh, I hate myself for using that term). Regardless of my inability to describe the amount of quantifiable win contained in this footlong sandwich... it is awesome. Again, this is coming from someone who generally hates eating liver with a passion.



Ah yes, their namesake... the "Paesano." It sounds like some dude straight out of The Godfather. Lots to live up to with a name that's the same as the establishment, but oh this sandwich delivers like a boss. I liked it so much that I already wrote a post on Serious Eats about it. The gist of it is beef brisket, provolone cheese, horseradish mayo... and a fried egg, because well... eggs are good for you? They're just trying to make their brisket sandwich a modicum healthier. Basically, it's juicy-ass beef that shears apart in strips with a slight bit of tangy spiciness from the horseradish mayo. Know that last bite of every sandwich? The one so saturated with liquids that it's more sauce than bread? Trust me... you'll be in love too.



Then there is the "Bolognese." With an innocuous name like that, you'd probably expect a stupidly basic sandwich filled with meat sauce. As great as something like that would taste, it's completely selling the sandwich short. It's as if the bros as Paesano's huddled around and asked each other... "how can we make a sandwich sound normal, but be as insanely unhealthy as possible?" Just look at the contents: "Crispy Fried Lasagna with Classic Meat Sauce, Sweet Peppers, Smoked Mozzarella, Red Sauce, Sharp Provolone & Fried Egg." Take something as perfectly normal as lasagna, fry the shit out of it until crispy... then shove it into some of the finest bread in all of Philadelphia and of course you have a ridiculously tempting sandwich. Pile on some sweet peppers, provolone, and a fried egg? Game over.

Now, since I couldn't come up with a creative way to intertwine sandwiches with the other point I wanted to make about why I write this food blog, I'm gonna shove it all at the end here. Because I can.

- Someone suggested that, instead of sipping on haterade™ all the time, I should focus on the positives of food blogging. Some of the coolest people I've ever run across I met because I write about stuff I shove in my mouth (that'd be the other 10% of food bloggers). Part of why I still keep doing this is because I like hanging out with those people. Believe it or not, it's not only fun to eat with other people... it's fun to talk about food with other people too. Crazy - I know.

- Not gonna lie, I kinda sorta care about pageviews and all that jazz, but definitely not for the reason you might think. Sure it feels baller as hell when you get a sudden spike in traffic, and yeah it's an ego boner when people cite stuff you wrote as legit, but the only reason I care about site traffic is monetary. I don't know if you've ever lived as a grad student... but it kind of sucks. On top of taking really stupid classes, you operate with a budget that would make Somali pirates ashamed of stealing from you. I clearly don't make a buttload of money off of blogging, but it does help offset some of my expenditures. Obviously this isn't going to be much of an issue going forward - I actually think my blogging at least partially helped get me my job - but it played a part in the past. So while some people are blogging entirely for the emotional handjob... I kinda did it out of greed. Even so... no one likes writing without an audience (or at least I don't).

- I realize my "About Me" already says I started this thing because I used to be fat and I needed a reminder that to slow down and enjoy food from time to time. That part is still true. I freakin' love eating, I think that's pretty indisputable. I also said that I write all these posts as a form of stress relief/entertainment. That's... er, semi-true. It's not always fun when I can't come up with crap to write - in fact that's downright stressful. I dunno, all this thinking is probably bad. Maybe I've been blogging for all the wrong reasons as well. "Everyone has an agenda," and I guess I'm no different.
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Pepperoni bread (Sarcone's Bakery)

Remember those stupid Lunchables things from Oscar Mayer? The ones where kids could "assemble" their own lunches out of components so idiot proof that not even a dumbass could make a mess? Yeah, I'm not ashamed to admit I used to cream my pants over those things. There was one in particular that made me pop a food boner instantaneously... every time. Pepperoni Pizza. Little more than a doughy disc of cardboard like flat bread, some marinara sauce in a plastic packet, and a small package of small pepperoni pieces - it actually didn't taste great, but to my adolescent brain, that ish was the best... I thought I was basically an 8 year old Emeril Lagasse makin' some bitch ass pizza. What's the point of this stupid story about my sad/demented childhood? Sarcone's Bakery in Philadelphia serves up something called pepperoni bread. It tastes nothing like the crap that my fat stubby hands used to churn out from Lunchables.

Sarcone's has been around since 1918 when it was opened by some dude named Luigi. It has been passed down from generation to generation to generation. They are boss. Sometimes if you go too late in the afternoon (by which I mean 3 pm) there will be no bread left. If that's not proof enough of how awesome they are, then I don't know what is. Maybe a sensual photo of pepperoni stacked inside of oily bread... aw yeah.



Fuck yeah... look at that. Pepperoni bread in all its glory. The bread itself is kind of hard to describe. Somewhat flaccid and oily on its own, it's really nothing to behold until you fill that cavity full of processed/fatty cured meats. When you get up in there with a fist full of pepperoni - then it's on. Count them stacks of pepperoni. I'll wait. You done? That shiz goes like 8 deep. I don't think Oscar Mayer even gave you 8 pieces of pepperoni - period - per box (thinking back, those things were a real ripoff). Basically... Sarcone's pepperoni bread is an oiled up giant rod of layered bread stuffed with 8 full layers of pepperoni along the entirety of the cross section. There is nothing in that equation I don't like. Oily bread... check. Pepperoni... check. It's not fancy (it probably falls under the stupidly simple category), but it gets... shit... done.

Disclaimer: I felt pretty awful after eating the entire thing for dinner, but whatever. Going in, Sarcone's pepperoni bread is more awesome than a robot ninja punching a dinosaur in the dick. How many other things can make that claim?
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Where fried chicken meets pineapple bun

I love McDonald's in Taiwan. I really do. They have a vastly superior menu, with items such as rice bun burgers, burgers with extra layers (up to 4 on the Big Mac), and even green tea (and red bean!) McFlurries. On top of that, their lunch hours give discounts so that full meals cost as little as 79 NT ($2.25 for the double cheeseburger). God... damn. No wonder there's so many overweight kids in Taiwan nowadays. Anyway, they've been pimping their new spicy chicken leg sandwich pretty hard lately (full combo meal for 99 NT!), and shit... it's delicious as sin.

The patty is freshly fried (I would know... I burned my lip on one), has a crispy layer of spicy breading, and uses actual chicken meat. The skeptic in me wonders how McD's is turning a profit here if they're charging less for a meal than for a sandwich back in NYC. Maybe they're using steroid filled chickens on the brim of death? Maybe. Don't really care though, these sandwiches are fantastic... but that's not the point of this post.



Having just been to a bakery, I sat with my combo meal staring out the window. I realized I had a bag of freshly baked pineapple buns. Lacking a knife, my only option was to delicately pry open the still warm bun apart. I worked gingerly, trying not to break off the sugar top crust. I have oafish hands, so that didn't work out as planned. With the bun opened successfully (debatable), I began the transplant. I scraped the mayo lettuce mix over using a sacrificial french fry, then slammed the patty inside. Then you get what you see. Mmm, to be honest, it wasn't as jaw-dropping incredible as I thought it would be. You can't really taste the sweetness of the crust, since the spicy chicken is legit spicy, and it's kind of wasted in sandwich form. I guess the one thing it did improve upon was texture, since the bread is supremely elastic, pulling off in strands of buttery goodness (compared to the plain white sesame bun of course).

Point of all this? I don't really know. Don't waste pineapple buns making stupid sandwiches... and I love McDonald's in Taiwan I guess?
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翠華餐廳 (Tsui Wah Restaurant)

I guess I'll finally get around to posting about the 2 days I spent in Hong Kong. Starting with 翠華餐廳 (Tsui Wah Restaurant). I can't really think of an equivalent for comparison, but I suppose it would be the equivalent of IHOP in America, or 永和豆漿大王 in Taiwan (sort of), in the sense that it's basically a breakfast/brunch chain that also serves dinner type entrees. I guess it's kind of silly that the first restaurant I'd go to would be some sort of commercialized chain restaurant, but I kept complaining that I hadn't eaten anything all day (which is a lie, since they gave us lunch on the flight), so naturally I ate at the first place that I saw. So about the food...

Like I said, Tsui Wah is basically a pseudo-HK diner. They serve a pretty wide variety of things (most of which I can't recall), but mostly brunch type food. I ordered their Malaysian beef curry (which at 42 HKD is basically ~$6). Holy Jesus, it's like the greatest curry ever. Hrm, maybe that's an exaggeration, but it's certainly very good. You're given a plate with a giant scoop of white rice on a plate, and another big plate of curry beef. Awesome... two plates. The beef curry is made with an assortment of different cuts of beef, lots of tendon, and some lean pieces, all cooked to a degree of softness that they fall apart when picked at with chopsticks. This sits in a pool of heavenly orange curry that is remarkably strong in flavor, and spicy to say the least. I'm bad at describing things, but if you mixed Indian curry with Japanese curry, you'd be getting close to what this dish tastes like. It doesn't really matter, it tasted real good... that's all that matters.



One of the other things I got was condensed milk - butter toast (I don't know why the colors are wonky... I tried fixing them, but evidently I failed). Genius. Whoever was the first person who decided "putting butter on my toast isn't quite that fattening, let me drizzle condensed milk on too" is my hero. The taste of savory sweet breads isn't really foreign to Asian bakeries, but having a semi-crunchy roll with warm sweet goo is quite the experience. QUICK! Go grab toast and make it now. You're welcome.

As far as this restaurant? It's pretty easy to find since there's multiple locations, and despite the conventional thinking of avoiding chain restaurants when traveling, well... screw that. They have condensed milk - butter bread... and curry to die for.
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新疆餅 (Xin Jiang Bread)

I didn't have anything creative to use for the title of this post. Honestly... my best alternative was 'Uyghur Bread!' Anyway, it's a weekend post, so I'll keep it short. On the back road behind 公館夜市 (Gong Guan Night Market), there's a small stand run by an old lady that specializes in 新疆餅 (xin jiang bing). It looks like hot dog cart filled with Hot Pockets, but don't be deceived, it's rather mundane looking, but it's genuinely special. Not completely unlike 燒餅 (shao bing), they're floury pockets of dough dotted with a generous helping of sesame seeds, and with filling sandwiched inside. Traditionally served salty (which is what I got), the bread pocket is lined with scallions and garlic, with an almost overwhelming spread of black pepper. The texture is hard to describe... not flaky, nor doughy, it sheers off in chunks, but is somewhat chewy. Hm, let's just say it's not a bad 30 NT ($1) investment. I'll probably wander back there for more eventually.
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