Once in a while I visit an eatery that typifies passion and dedication. I recently visited Uncle Darrow's Cajun eatery and realized why I love this place. The owner Ronald and the rest of the staff just plain care.
Upon entering the establishment you are typically greeted and asked if you are visiting for your first time. If it is, be prepared for a friendly rundown of the menu and some free samples. I would recommend limiting your samples as you will want to order everything you taste.
Here is the overlying problem with Uncle Darrow's. The food is not good for a motivated person. My favorite Po' Boy is the Zeke. It is a combination of bread, fried catfish, fried shrimp, and potato salad. You see, there is no way to get any errands done after eating a sandwich like that. I recently had half a Zeke, jambalaya, and gumbo from Uncle Darrow's. I immediately went home and stared at a wall for three hours.
Normally food of this weight would be hard to get through. It can be easy to over fry or under fry and get the food all greasy. This is far from true at Uncle Darrow's. The seafood is always served hot, fresh, and crispy. My favorite side may just be their File Gumbo, a sopping concoction of shrimp, crab, and sausage with a hint of spice.
Either way I cannot recommend this place enough. I would just pencil in a nap after visiting.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Laker Bandwagon Getting Full
All Aboard
There they are folks. They range in intimidation factor from hardened criminal to IT administrative assistant. Let's have fun!
The NBA playoffs are a lot like pregnancy. You are excited at first then after nine months you just want to get it over with. The interim is spent on the couch being all gassy.
What some sports would consider the length of a regular season, the NBA considers brief enough for a post season. And here we are at the tail end of it. After 40 games in 40 nights we now have two teams vying for the trophy.
Try as ESPN might to pit this as a Kobe vs. Dwight series, the crucial battle will come down to Lamar/Ariza vs. Turkoglu/Lewis. I guess I could go on spouting statistics and predictions, but I am little irked today.
You see whenever the Lakers make it deep in the playoffs, fair weather fans come out of the woodwork to glom onto the party train. It starts innocent enough, a Laker flag here and a mention of Kobe there. Sure we can all take pride in in DJ Mbenga's disproportionately small head. And yes we can all bask in the glory of Kobe's farts. But it ain't all gravy. Being a complete dork of a fan, I watch all season and revel in both the good and the outright stinky.
Most bandwagoners fail to realize that a little over two years ago Kobe Bryant was determined to run Andrew Bynum out of town. Purple and Gold morale was at an untimely low. The Lakers looked more like the pack that ran with Del Harris then those that capped off a three peat of titles earlier in the decade. There were no tacos at the end of games. A sigh and sense of a relief were our only reward.
Then it all started to come together. That Bynum kid was alright. The Lakers got some momentum going and a playoff berth seemed inevitable. Then tragedy hit. You don't know what it feels like when your young center goes down twice, in the same month, in consecutive years, to the same team. You feel jinxed, You feel doomed.
Then like a spanish Jesus Pau came to save the day. The he ruined the party by getting dunked on frequently in the finals last year. Look, you haven't spent game after game yelling at Lamar Odom for being a no show, then applauding his immense talent, in the same game! Maybe you have witnessed Pau and his offensive prowess. But I know you bandwagoners look away when he diminishes on the defensive end. I do not. I take it all in; every basket, every tech, every 20 point blow out, every 20 point drubbing.
So please forgive me if become a little annoyed at the person on the street wearing a Laker shirt today when yesterday they didn't know when the Finals started. I'm not saying you have to wear purple everyday, just be able to name the last second-round draft pick to start a playoff game for the Lakers. That will do.
There they are folks. They range in intimidation factor from hardened criminal to IT administrative assistant. Let's have fun!
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
The Hollenbeck Burrito
A burrito should strike fear when it is placed before you. That is the main difference between a burrito and some stuff wrapped in a tortilla. A burrito should necessitate a plan of action. You should have to take a second and realize that the plans you may have had for the rest of the day will go unfulfilled. That's a burrito.
I happen to be indulging at the moment in what I and many others find to be the pinnacle of Los Angeles burritos, the Hollenbeck. El Tepeyac, Manuel's to many, has always been a special place to me. My parents would take us when the mood struck and we were good. That's right. When other kids were being taken to the circus or a museum I was being carted off to eat burritos.
The Hollenbeck is about a pound and a half of meat and rice and beans and guacamole all placed perfectly together in a tortilla like a boy band about to go on tour. Like said boy band they rock the shit out of my taste buds. The meat is stewed all day in a red chile sauce giving each bite a tender texture. You get plenty of meat throughout and a ladle is generously portioned on top of the burrito. That's right. After they run out of room stuffing the burrito with meat they scoop some on top. Why? Because more meat won't fit in the burrito, that's why!
When you first get your burrito you immediately realize that it is as big as an infant. Sometimes I don't know whether to eat it or raise it to be something in this world: doctor, lawyer, hell something honorable. I mean at the very least something better than me at this time. I often think my burrito could be a major league baseball star if it just applied itself. Burritos. Right? Ah, you have to let them make their own mistakes I guess.
Immediately after you eat this tortilla baby you are faced with two brutal truths: 1) You now realize you have no self respect and probably could have saved some of that burrito for later but were smitten with the taste of gently stewed pork chunks, and 2) You need to get home as soon as possible.
I happen to be indulging at the moment in what I and many others find to be the pinnacle of Los Angeles burritos, the Hollenbeck. El Tepeyac, Manuel's to many, has always been a special place to me. My parents would take us when the mood struck and we were good. That's right. When other kids were being taken to the circus or a museum I was being carted off to eat burritos.
The Hollenbeck is about a pound and a half of meat and rice and beans and guacamole all placed perfectly together in a tortilla like a boy band about to go on tour. Like said boy band they rock the shit out of my taste buds. The meat is stewed all day in a red chile sauce giving each bite a tender texture. You get plenty of meat throughout and a ladle is generously portioned on top of the burrito. That's right. After they run out of room stuffing the burrito with meat they scoop some on top. Why? Because more meat won't fit in the burrito, that's why!
When you first get your burrito you immediately realize that it is as big as an infant. Sometimes I don't know whether to eat it or raise it to be something in this world: doctor, lawyer, hell something honorable. I mean at the very least something better than me at this time. I often think my burrito could be a major league baseball star if it just applied itself. Burritos. Right? Ah, you have to let them make their own mistakes I guess.
Immediately after you eat this tortilla baby you are faced with two brutal truths: 1) You now realize you have no self respect and probably could have saved some of that burrito for later but were smitten with the taste of gently stewed pork chunks, and 2) You need to get home as soon as possible.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Becoming a Fan
I've been a soccer fan for a few years now and have followed Chelsea for that same amount of time. I have always considered myself one of the Chelsea faithful but have not been so convinced of that fact until today.
Growing up around sports I find it is easy to follow your team when the going is good and the wins are easy. Living in L.A. I may have become a Dodgers and Lakers fan regardless of winning percentage. But the fact that my developmental years were spent watching around the back passes from Magic to Worthy and shutout innings being thrown by Orel Hershiser made it easier to fall in love with those teams.
Yet you never feel quite complete as a fan until your team loses a big game. You never truly understand what the rooting did to you emotionally and physically. You back a team through the thick and stick with them through the thin because that is your conviction and that is who you choose to trust. When the people you trust break your heart you know you are invested for life.
I remember 1989 and the Piston's sweep of the Lakers in the finals. Being nine at the time I don't mind telling you I cried that night. I remember the ineptitude of the early ninety Dodgers teams. They had me holding onto the dream that we could repeat the miracle of '88.
At almost thirty years old, I had the same experience yet again. Nil-nil going into today's second leg semi-final, Chelsea lost in injury time to Barcelona. They finished ninety minutes as the assured finalists in this years Champions League final match. They came within a minute and a half of completing something worthwhile to a lackluster season. As does happen so often in sport. The unexpected happenened.
Barcelona scored with little time left in injury time allowing them to go ahead in the tie breaker scenario. When Iniesta connected with the ball my heartbroke. In so many of these events in my life. I know when the inevitable is about to happen. As the ball swept passed Cech's outstretched arm I buried my head in my hands in disgust.
I can take refuge in the fact that I am part of a faithful of Chelsea fan that felt the same way today. I can take soalce in the fact that we will have no alternative but wait until next season to root again. I can take pride in the fact that there is nothing more I can do about the pain. I am a Chelsea fan after all.
Growing up around sports I find it is easy to follow your team when the going is good and the wins are easy. Living in L.A. I may have become a Dodgers and Lakers fan regardless of winning percentage. But the fact that my developmental years were spent watching around the back passes from Magic to Worthy and shutout innings being thrown by Orel Hershiser made it easier to fall in love with those teams.
Yet you never feel quite complete as a fan until your team loses a big game. You never truly understand what the rooting did to you emotionally and physically. You back a team through the thick and stick with them through the thin because that is your conviction and that is who you choose to trust. When the people you trust break your heart you know you are invested for life.
I remember 1989 and the Piston's sweep of the Lakers in the finals. Being nine at the time I don't mind telling you I cried that night. I remember the ineptitude of the early ninety Dodgers teams. They had me holding onto the dream that we could repeat the miracle of '88.
At almost thirty years old, I had the same experience yet again. Nil-nil going into today's second leg semi-final, Chelsea lost in injury time to Barcelona. They finished ninety minutes as the assured finalists in this years Champions League final match. They came within a minute and a half of completing something worthwhile to a lackluster season. As does happen so often in sport. The unexpected happenened.
Barcelona scored with little time left in injury time allowing them to go ahead in the tie breaker scenario. When Iniesta connected with the ball my heartbroke. In so many of these events in my life. I know when the inevitable is about to happen. As the ball swept passed Cech's outstretched arm I buried my head in my hands in disgust.
I can take refuge in the fact that I am part of a faithful of Chelsea fan that felt the same way today. I can take soalce in the fact that we will have no alternative but wait until next season to root again. I can take pride in the fact that there is nothing more I can do about the pain. I am a Chelsea fan after all.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Weekend Tacos
A Saturday so filled with amazing sport is usually saved for late March. Though in May, tomorrow should give us ample opportunity to sit on the couch and not move for three or ten hours. So here are the top three tacos to watch Saturday, complete with which method of drink you should be pounding.
135th Kentucky Derby
The main race should be around 3PST. So my morning may consist of looking for ingredients for my mint julep and a very large hat. This may be a tight one as there are no clear cut favorites this time around. The early favorite is 'I want Revenge' who is now going off at 3-1. The most interesting horse is the colt 'Pioneer of the Nile.' He has the strength and longevity to finish but has only been a turf or synthetic surface horse until now. If he transitions to dirt well he may be near the top at the turn.
What to drink
Mint Julep There is something sophisticated yet down home about a mint julep. In fact its the only cocktail that you can sip while wearning boxers and no shirt and still be snooty about it.
The Game Seven to end all Game Sevens
Ever since Game six between the Boston Celtics and the Chicago Bulls occurred every sports pundit has touted this series as the greatest thing to happen since late night spaghetti bowls before bed. It has been a great series. But the fact remains that the winner will still lose to Cleveland eventually. However, because almost every game this series has been a close, hard hitting, controversy inducing match up, I will not miss seven. Well at least not the fourth quarter.
What to Drink
Because of the location, you have to go Sam Adams. By now you should have a euphoric feeling of malaise. It's ok tomorrow is Sunday and you have nothing to do.
Pacquiao v. Hatton
Last time I saw Pacquiao fighting he was beating up a poor old Mexican lady. No one seemed to care either. They just allowed the Phillipino pugilist to land blow after blow on the defenseless Oscar Dela Hoya. It was a scary sight but I couldn't divert my eyes. PacMan's complete beat down on Dela Hoya illustrated his veracity at pretty much any weight class. I would be ready to bet the farm on his ability to dismantle Hatton if it weren't for Floyd Mayweather Sr. and his dedication to defense. Hatton has always been a puncher that would come at you and worry about the repercussions later. Having a stiff chin and deft swing allows that. However, this fight is different. Pacquaio can fly around the ring and will most assuredly get his punches in. If Hatton learned to dodge this late in his career this may just be better than the beating of an old Mexican I saw last year.
What to Drink
San Miguel or Guinness - Then take a nap.
135th Kentucky Derby
The main race should be around 3PST. So my morning may consist of looking for ingredients for my mint julep and a very large hat. This may be a tight one as there are no clear cut favorites this time around. The early favorite is 'I want Revenge' who is now going off at 3-1. The most interesting horse is the colt 'Pioneer of the Nile.' He has the strength and longevity to finish but has only been a turf or synthetic surface horse until now. If he transitions to dirt well he may be near the top at the turn.
What to drink
Mint Julep There is something sophisticated yet down home about a mint julep. In fact its the only cocktail that you can sip while wearning boxers and no shirt and still be snooty about it.
The Game Seven to end all Game Sevens
Ever since Game six between the Boston Celtics and the Chicago Bulls occurred every sports pundit has touted this series as the greatest thing to happen since late night spaghetti bowls before bed. It has been a great series. But the fact remains that the winner will still lose to Cleveland eventually. However, because almost every game this series has been a close, hard hitting, controversy inducing match up, I will not miss seven. Well at least not the fourth quarter.
What to Drink
Because of the location, you have to go Sam Adams. By now you should have a euphoric feeling of malaise. It's ok tomorrow is Sunday and you have nothing to do.
Pacquiao v. Hatton
Last time I saw Pacquiao fighting he was beating up a poor old Mexican lady. No one seemed to care either. They just allowed the Phillipino pugilist to land blow after blow on the defenseless Oscar Dela Hoya. It was a scary sight but I couldn't divert my eyes. PacMan's complete beat down on Dela Hoya illustrated his veracity at pretty much any weight class. I would be ready to bet the farm on his ability to dismantle Hatton if it weren't for Floyd Mayweather Sr. and his dedication to defense. Hatton has always been a puncher that would come at you and worry about the repercussions later. Having a stiff chin and deft swing allows that. However, this fight is different. Pacquaio can fly around the ring and will most assuredly get his punches in. If Hatton learned to dodge this late in his career this may just be better than the beating of an old Mexican I saw last year.
What to Drink
San Miguel or Guinness - Then take a nap.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
To the person that stole my Laundry Bag from the laundry room...
I hate you. I hate you as much as any one person can hate a potentially non-existent foe. How retarded can you be? Very, very retarded is the answer. You must have some semblance of a brain because your basket taking caper has thus far gone unsolved.
Please rest assured that you will be apprehended as soon as I get off the couch and turn off the TV. But I will run into my bag again. I just have to. There is no way this was not an inside job. No prints or excessive lint trails at the scene. You are good my friend. You are good.
I am convinced you know who I am am. Now that I have to lug my clothes to and fro in a white trash bag like I were a ghetto Mexican Santa Claus, I am convinced you are enjoying yourself. Well this not being a violent crime I can't say that I hope you die but I at the very least wish that you one day get a puppy and he dies in your arms. Then I hope you scream to the heavens for retribution and remember me, the guy that only wanted to get out of taking a laundry bag back and forth from his apartment so he left it in the laundry room. He did this because he was convinced there was no one so completely void of a soul that they would snatch my only laundry bag. Do you not understand that I am lazy and will not buy another until I am coincidentally standing next to one in the store.
I am sorry I take it back. I hope you die.
Best,
Some Dude you totally fucked over.
Please rest assured that you will be apprehended as soon as I get off the couch and turn off the TV. But I will run into my bag again. I just have to. There is no way this was not an inside job. No prints or excessive lint trails at the scene. You are good my friend. You are good.
I am convinced you know who I am am. Now that I have to lug my clothes to and fro in a white trash bag like I were a ghetto Mexican Santa Claus, I am convinced you are enjoying yourself. Well this not being a violent crime I can't say that I hope you die but I at the very least wish that you one day get a puppy and he dies in your arms. Then I hope you scream to the heavens for retribution and remember me, the guy that only wanted to get out of taking a laundry bag back and forth from his apartment so he left it in the laundry room. He did this because he was convinced there was no one so completely void of a soul that they would snatch my only laundry bag. Do you not understand that I am lazy and will not buy another until I am coincidentally standing next to one in the store.
I am sorry I take it back. I hope you die.
Best,
Some Dude you totally fucked over.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Open
I just ate my fourth burrito in as many days. This is not my only burrito feat. I once had two burritos in one day. These are the types of achievements not made out of planning and fortitude. They are created from living a certain lifestyle. I did not wake up one day and plan to eat two burritos in one day. Happenstance and luck created the moment when I looked down at crumpled paper and foil and thought "Shit, I just ate two burritos today." The nap that followed allowed for the requisite self reflection. Why am I doomed to eat copious amounts of food as if I were about to hibernate for a few months? The answer hit me like the tail end of a buffet bender. I love food.
I love how it tastes, smells, and sizzles. I love that carnitas have some symbiotic relationship with guacamole and lemon that make them truly great friends. I love that the aromatics from an Italian meat sauce are so closely aligned with the taste that I can decide the quality before a taste test. I love burgers. I love foie gras. From Tapas to yakitori, this blog is sort of a diary of indigestion and delights. So let's laugh, drink, and eat. I will make sure there is plenty of napkins and the tums as always are by my bed.
I love how it tastes, smells, and sizzles. I love that carnitas have some symbiotic relationship with guacamole and lemon that make them truly great friends. I love that the aromatics from an Italian meat sauce are so closely aligned with the taste that I can decide the quality before a taste test. I love burgers. I love foie gras. From Tapas to yakitori, this blog is sort of a diary of indigestion and delights. So let's laugh, drink, and eat. I will make sure there is plenty of napkins and the tums as always are by my bed.
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