The return of the McRib

Know that feeling on Christmas morning... where you asked for some stupid toy for the past three months, waited and hoped that it'd be under the tree, then when you finally open the box and start playing with it, you realize, after 10 minutes, that it's actually a piece of crap? The McRib is exactly like that. Except instead of three months, I've waited something like 7 years, and instead of 10 minutes, the disappointment is instantaneous.

I know, I know. It's a 'rib' sandwich from McDonald's. I'm an idiot for expecting anything spectacular, period. The thing is, the last time I had this sandwich... I was 15... and really fat. It really didn't matter how it tasted, all I knew was that the idea of a rib bbq sandwich was glorious. So for the past 7 years, I've held this image of an incredible sandwich in my mind as fact, just waiting for the day of it's spectacular return... like a robot zombie Jesus sandwich of sorts.



It's not so much that the sandwich is awful. I still like it, and I've been eating plenty of them, it's just that it's impossible to live up to expectations like that. The bun is like any other McDonald's sandwich, so there's not much to complain about there. The patty on the other hand... leaves a lot to be desired. My memory is super hazy, but I always remembered it as something that was texturally similar to the inside of a McNugget, not the soft eraser brick that I found inside my sandwich. When you get over the fact that it doesn't feel anything like pork, the McRib isn't too bad. It does it's job as a glorified sauce carriage, is super cheap, and doesn't taste half awful.

I'm actually not really sure what direction this post is supposed to go in. I guess I'm kind of pissed off that my childhood memories have been effectively stomped into the ground and spat on, but at the same time, I've come to the realization that if I just adjust my expectations to McDonald's standards... the McRib is pretty decent. Enjoy it while it lasts people.
Read more...

Cheese pies and cheesecake (Allegro Pizza)

Cheap hole in the wall pizza plays a major role in my life. When I was at Columbia, I had Koronet, Pinnacle, and Famiglia, all located within a few blocks of each other. None of them were fantastic, in fact, barely passable would probably be a more appropriate description, but none of that really mattered to me in the middle of the night. When hunger struck, all I wanted was some form of dough, sauce, and cheese... in that order. Like an addict, I needed to fill that same void in Philly too. I had to find another source of cheap, dirty, pleasure, in the form of carbohydrates and dairy... and oh I did. That place is Allegro Pizza.



For $11, you can get a pretty sizable 16" pie. That's 201 square inches (rounding down for arguments sake) of pizza, or roughly 18 square inches per dollar. That's actually better than Koronet, given how wack their pricing scheme has been lately. In any case, while I'm pretty sure no one would consider their plain slices anything spectacular, it's a pretty good deal.



Their slices are pretty standard. Thin average crust with nondescript sauce and cheese. Nothing to write home about (yet... here I am writing about it?). Not that there's anything wrong with that. It's tasty, but I don't know if I'd say it was a sensual experience or anything close, but it definitely fills that void. You know what I'm talking about... that hole in your heart that yearns for a slice of cheap pizza that can only be characterized as average at best. Oh yes, I've found my pleasure palace of pizza in University City.



I don't know what I was thinking when I got this. I was tempted by a fridge full of cheesecake after lunch. It seemed like a pretty good idea at the time, but it was pretty fail. For $3.75 (which feels pretty expensive actually), the cheesecake is more dry and crumbly than thick and decadent, and the sauce is more chemical flavoring than actual strawberries. For how it looks, it's deceptively disappointing. I guess that's what happens when you get cheesecake at a pizzeria. Oh well, doesn't make their slices any worse, and that shit is what really matters anyway.
Read more...

General Tso's vs. grandfather chicken (King's Wok)

Before arriving in Philadelphia, my default at Americanized Chinese takeout places was always General Tso's, Tao's, Gao's, or whatever you want to call it... chicken. Sometimes I'd change it up for the sake of variety, and I'd order sesame chicken, but the point stands. I'm a big fan of fried chunks of chicken and sauce. Imagine how surprised I was, when I learned of the existence of a third such implementation of chicken. One that's known as... 'grandfather chicken.'

One problem... I'm not entirely sure what grandfather chicken actually is. Some places list it as the same thing as General Tso's, and some places have both on their menu (see Kim's Oriental, Yue Kee, and King's Wok). In an effort to get to the bottom of this mystery, I went to King's Wok... and ordered up both.



For the past few weeks, I've heard about King's Wok non-stop. It's supposedly the greatest thing to hit the Chinese food truck scene since the advent of pork fried rice (and that stuff is fantastic). They seem to have quite the following, since if you go around lunchtime, there's usually a crowd of 15-20 people standing around waiting. Maybe it's because their food is wonderfully delicious, beyond the description of words... or maybe it's just because the guy running the truck is smart and parked right next to the engineering buildings (a.k.a. Asian person central). Either way, they get a lot of business, and people seem to like them.



I think the chicken pictured above (and at the very top) was the grandfather chicken. For $4, you're given a box of rice with breaded fried chicken, broccoli, and some sort of dark sauce with scallions in it. Pretty standard from what I've seen when ordering grandfather chicken. The rice was fine, no one really fucks up rice. The chicken was appropriately tender, with a thin crispy shell, all covered in the dark brown sauce, which was overly salty, not really sweet, and pretty nondescript really. It was okay, but the soy sauce really needed to be toned back a bit.



... and onto the General Tso's chicken. I think. I actually got the two mixed up, because the guy never told me, or marked which was which. He probably thought I was a bit of a moron for ordering two things that are 99% the same, but whatever.



For $4, you're given a box of rice with breaded fried chicken, broccoli, and some sort of dark sauce without scallions in it. Pretty standard from what I've seen when ordering General Tso's chicken. The rice was fine, no one really fucks up rice. The chicken was appropriately tender, with a thin crispy shell, all covered in the dark brown sauce, which was overly salty, not really sweet, and pretty nondescript really. It was okay, but the soy sauce really needed to be toned back a bit.

If you think I just copy pasted that last description word for word, you'd be wrong. I noted the lack of scallions. Honestly, I have no clue what the difference is. One of them had a bit more sauce, and looked soggier, but I'm pretty sure it was the same exact thing... minus scallions. So in conclusion, General Tso's = grandfather chicken. It's just some brilliant ploy by Chinese places to make their menu look more awesome. Secondary conclusion, King's Wok is not that good. I'm not really sure what my friend was talking about.
Read more...

The Wawa 'Gobbler'

There's a lot of things I like about Wawa. The fact that it's open 24 hours a day in a city that basically shuts down at 10 pm is nice. The fact that I never have to talk to anyone, and that I get to order everything from a nifty touch screen is pretty spiffy too. Ooh, and their milkshakes... getting a milkshake from a convenience store feels so wrong, but tastes so right. It's really hard to explain to anyone not from NJ or Pennsylvania why Wawa is so full of win, but it really isn't just a convenience store, it's like a home away from home. So much in fact, that it even has your Thanksgiving meal covered, in portable form, otherwise known as the Wawa Gobbler.

The Gobbler isn't anything groundbreaking or special. It's simply hot turkey laden in gravy, stuffing, cranberry sauce, all packed inside a hoagie roll (you can add cheese and bacon too... both highly recommended).



No the turkey isn't fantastic, the cranberry sauce comes from a refrigerated can, and the stuffing feels... mealy, but when all three unite in sandwich form, something glorious results. While this wouldn't appeal to most advocates of 'fine dining,' I absolutely loved it (yes, even sober). A blend of sweet and tart from the cranberries, an odd contrast of textures from the stuffing, and turkey that doesn't taste half bad, all make for an oddly satisfying sandwich on the cheap.

My only complaint here would be the fact that it's as messy as it is delicious. The gravy overruns everything, soaking into the bread into a soggy mess of failure. Pro-tip to combat this would be to simply ask the person at the sandwich counter to try to strain your turkey before slapping it down on the roll. If you ask nicely, they'll comply 9 times out of 10. This actually works terrifically well, and makes the sandwich infinitely more enjoyable. You're welcome.
Read more...