Hot Dish Review

Here is the evidence….from three different sources.

First of all, I grew up five minutes away from McKee Bakery, the biggest employer of (mostly) unskilled labor in the Collegedale/Ooltewah, TN area, and the maker of Little Debbie Snacks. As a child I ate the sugary snacks on occasion although I didn’t really love ‘em. I guess I knew deep down they were evil.

Here’s a little tidbit of trivia for ya from the Richmond Times-Dispatch: “About 70 percent of the nation’s military-age young people cannot enlist in the armed forces because of inadequate education, criminal records or physical problems.”

SEVENTY PERCENT!!

My cousin SW told me this sorry statistic yesterday and I confirmed it just now. And why, you ask, are the youth of this country so pathetic? Well, for one, they are obese lazy motherf*ckers that sit around and eat Twinkies and Cheetos all day. It’s not all their fault, though. The government is allowing manufacturers to get away with feeding us poison in our everyday foods. Chemicals like MSG, and food coloring like red #40 are commonly used.

SW, who has worked at McKee for years, corroborated a story my Dad told me, about the “recycling” of baked goods that, for whatever reason, did not pass inspection.

The story pertains to Oatmeal Creme Pies in particular. My Dad says he used to see other employees throwing rejects into the batter, incorporating the already baked product into the dough. Apparently it is easy to disguise this in the somewhat chunky oatmeal cookie.

He thinks they even recycled the old snacks picked up from store shelves that were approaching stale, replaced by fresh new boxes, but my cousin has not seen this in action. He has, however, witnessed first-hand, boxes of snacks that did not meet specifications being thrown into vats of batter, which is made up primarily of shortening, white flour, and high fructose corn syrup.

Oatmeal Creme Pies are full of emulsifiers like sorbitan monostearate, polysorbate 60, and sodium stearoyl lactylate which are also used in skincare products. WTF? The FDA thinks it’s OK to use these substances in moisturizers and snack cakes. Insane.

Each Oatmeal Creme Pie has 170 calories, 7 grams of fat, 26 grams of carbs with less than 1 gram of fiber. There is literally no nutritional value. If I ate a box of 12 snacks every week for a year and changed nothing else in my diet I would gain 35 lbs!

My Dad also recounted the ingredients of the coating used on any of the products that are “chocolate covered”…..shortening, chocolate flavor, and sugar. No actual chocolate.

Then, coincidentally, BW added in that he was doing a job there once in the bakery’s “lab”. He was curious as to why a bakery would need a lab so he invited one of the ladies to dinner to get more information. They were testing ingredients to discover which were the most addictive. That was in the ’80′s!

Jesus Christ. What a perfect example of big government and “science” working together to profit from making Americans obese, feeding on ignorance. Shame on you Little Debbie. You deserve a big fat Knuckle Sandwich with an Oatmeal Creme Pie for dessert!

Yesterday I was shopping at the Ansley Kroger when I walked by the bakery department and was subjected to this garish display….yellow cake and cupcakes decorated with day-glo frosting.

What is the flavor of yellow cake? Yellow is not a flavor. The flavor of red velvet cake is red, I suppose. At least brown cake is chocolate. Why would anyone want to eat a flavorless sponge covered with bright green goopy frosting? Why?

Cake is so low-brow. Whenever I eat something that’s gonna add to my girth, it better be worth it. Like Babette’s dried cherry tart, for instance. Or authentic gelato in Europe.

Perhaps cake is the perfect dessert after a nice fat Knuckle Sandwich!

Remember when you were a kid and your family piled into the Chevy to go to the pizza parlor? Chubby Italian guys tossed pizza dough high into the air as kids and parents watched in delight, the heady aroma of sausage, onions, and peppers wafting through the air. There was a sort of mystique, a palpable excitement, surrounding the experience. Simply awesome.

Well, kiss those days goodbye my friend. Little Caesars has put the final nail in that coffin.

While establishments like Antico Napoletana and Varasano’s Pizzeria are attempting to elevate the humble pizza pie, Little Caesars is now offering “Hot & Ready” pizzas to-go. They are pre-made and boxed up, much like McDonald’s wraps a dozen cheeseburgers in advance, and kept warm behind the counter.

You can get a generic size large pepperoni pizza for only $5. Other varieties, like Ultimate Supreme and 3 Meat Treat are available, depending on your area. Bland crust topped with lackluster sauce and tons of cheap cheese is practically blasphemous. I could probably make a better “pizza” with what’s in my fridge….how about a tortilla topped with ketchup and Kraft American slices?

So if you’re hungry for the pizza parlor nostalgia of your childhood, check out Antico for the atmosphere, or Varrasano’s for a real hand-tossed pie, made with authentic ingredients and lots of love.

Last weekend, me and LC took his daughter tubing down the Chattahoochee in Helen, where my parents reside part-time. Arriving at lunchtime, I thought it would be fun to go to Troll Tavern which is situated alongside the river so diners can watch the tubers while enjoying their lunch.

I usually order a bratwurst, although they are often super-fatty. I’ve had a good burger there once, but that could have been an anomaly, given the fiasco that we experienced on this visit.

Knowing I would be in a bikini within the hour, I wanted something lighter than wurst. So I ordered a BLT….impossible to screw up, right? Fries came with it but I knew I could count on LC to eat most of them. My Mom ordered the same, while LC got a wrap and the little chick got chicken strips.

Just in case, I verified that the sandwich was served on toasted bread, after all, aren’t BLT’s always on toasted bread? My Mom and I both chose wheat and were assured that it would be toasted.

I sipped on my Warsteiner as we watched the brightly colored tubes going down the river, carrying their entertaining cargo….toothless guys with hairy necks, fat bleach blondes in bikinis, tattooed teens, and even one woman wearing a burka.

When our food came out it was obvious that our BLT’s were on bread that may have slipped into a toaster for two or three seconds. I was actually furious, especially since I had specifically asked that the bread be toasted. A scant amount of bacon didn’t impress. I tried to eat it but I was just too pissed off so I asked our server to bring some dark toasted bread ASAP, nibbling on the institutional-grade fries that had an inexplicable orange hue while I waited.

She was pretty quick to deliver, and it was certainly not her fault, but rather the stupidity of the trolls in the kitchen. For their inability to make even the simplest of sandwiches, they deserve a skimpy, wimpy Knuckle Sandwich….on stale white bread, untoasted of course.

If you would like to experience this type of incompetence for yourself here’s the address:
8590 N. Main Street, Helen, GA 706-878-3117

Trader Joe’s does an amazing job of finding innovative products for their private label….everything from healthy frozen entrees to wine.

While standing in the checkout line stocking up on Lambrusco, I spotted a display of Roasted Seaweed Snacks in kitschy bright green wrappers. It was only .99 cents so I grabbed a bag, thinking it might taste like the awesome kale chips that LC’s Mom made recently.

Wrong! When I opened the bag there was a definitive fishy smell. Cut into squares, the transparent dark green seaweed “chips” tasted fishy too. It was like eating stinky wax paper. But the worst part was after the initial crispness gave way to my saliva, the consistency became almost pasty. Yucky!

With only 60 calories per bag it makes for a great snack if you’re on a diet, mainly because it is hard to eat more than one sliver without being disgusted. If this was the only food left on earth, the problem of obesity would come to a screeching hault.

Of course, they are made in Korea, a country where silkworm larva is considered a tasty snack.

Driving back from Florida, B and I made efficient use of our time, getting gas and eating all in one stop. Lunch found us at McDonald’s in Gainesville, sharing their awesome fries with our Filet ‘O’ Fish sandwiches. Sorry no photos, but chances are you’ve seen a McDonald’s Filet ‘O’ Fish at some point in your life. However, we did note the diminished size of every component of the sandwich….fish, cheese, and bun.

Our second stop was near Macon where we stumbled upon a Mexican restaurant, sorta like a Moe’s wanna-be. It was called Caliente. Its cookie-cutter Southwestern furnishings matched its standard Tex-Mex fare of tacos, burritos, and quesadillas.

The chubby dude behind the counter had the personality of a toad. Poor thing. I inquired about the choices of meat and decided on a ground beef taco. One taco, soft or hard shell, was $4.95. Excuse me? It came with chips but that was hardly any consolation considering I can get a red chilli steak taco at El Taco for $1 less! Not to mention they serve tequila. No contest.

B decided to get the kid’s combo meal….a taco, chips, small cheese dip, soft drink, and cookie for $3.20. Good deal if you want all that stuff. She asked why I didn’t do the same but I really just wanted a taco with all the fixin’s….cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, and sour cream and guacamole from squirt bottles. I’m sorry, but if you can dispense guac from a squirt bottle, it might not be authentic. Just sayin’. Caliente did have a salsa bar with a few choices including pico de gallo and salsa verde.

My taco reminded me of the kind you make at home, with store-bought Ortega shells. Honestly, I prefer Taco Bell, even with the revelation that their “ground beef” is only 35% meat.

B loved the chips, mainly because they were salty. I thought they were too thick and out of an industrial size bag.

But here’s the kicker. I assumed the kid’s taco would be tiny but it was the same size as the regular one! What the f*ck? To make matters worse, the dude forgot to give B her cookie.

Guess we should have ordered burritos.

6255 Zebulon Road, Macon 478-471-8110

Apple, cherry, pecan, and especially key lime….I simply hate pie. Not tarts, mind you, like Babette’s kickass dried cherry tart. Or the rustic pear tarts I’ve devoured at Top Flr and Miller Union.

No, I’m talking straight-up white trash pie. The kind you might pick up at Publix if you are intoxicated and grew up thinking Red Lobster was fine dining.

Maybe it’s the pedestrian nature of pie that turns me off….the you-gotta-like-it-because-you-are-American expectation that surrounds pie. Yeah, apple pie is all-American and so is Chevrolet but you’re not gonna catch me driving a Cobalt.

Pumpkin or sweet potato pie filling is not so bad. I like the Fall spices like cinnamon and nutmeg. It’s the flaky crust made with lard, filled with fruit in a sugar-laden gloppy goo that makes me gag. Like the cherry pie in the photo above….a fat bomb that weighed almost 3 lbs. I can’t even imagine who would buy this atrocity.

And I just don’t understand the appeal of key lime pie. Makes about as much sense putting sugar on scrambled eggs.

So go ahead and buy that supermarket pie. Have it for dessert after your big, juicy Knuckle Sandwich!

That’s right, my first visit to Fork & Screen in Buckhead will be my last. This year for Halloween I decided to forego a costume and go to a scary movie, Paranormal Activity 2, with a friend. On the way to the theater we stopped in at Kyma for a couple of appetizers and a martini…a great start.

But the evening soon went awry. When we got to Fork & Screen we went directly to the bar in the lobby and ordered a pitcher of Miller Lite. The barely legal chick behind the bar refused to serve us saying we were intoxicated. Seriously?

I figured it was no big deal, since we were not at all drunk. After finding a comfy table inside the theater we summoned our server and placed a beer order only to be informed that she too could not serve us.

Despite the utter bullshit, we proceeded to order a chicken quesadilla, and chips and queso. I didn’t expect it to be good, but I’m quite certain my cat could do better. Tri-color chips with melted Velveeta were abysmal as was the flacid lukewarm tortilla filled with pre-packaged chicken and a smattering of melted cheese. A side of sour cream and another reportedly made with avocado did little to salvage it, nor did the side of half-ass fries that we didn’t order. There was no hint of spice in the quesadilla or the queso, unless you count salt.

I must have Milkduds at the movies. Thankfully, they did allow me to have those! To top it off, the movie was as dull as the food.

We left Fork & Screen completely sober. But the experience put a bad taste in my mouth in more ways than one.

At the end of a post I often give the address and phone number but I don’t want to inadvertently promote this venue. But I will give them one thing….a big fat Knuckle Sandwich!

In our futile search for the Georgia Kentucky game on Saturday, LC and I stopped in first at El Taco, then at Pure Taqueria, only to discover no one could get the channel. What what?

Tired of driving, we decided to have a bite to eat at Pure. I was craving guacamole. More importantly, I needed a drink. It was prime time Saturday night but the place was pretty quiet. Seated on the patio, we each ordered a shot of Herradura silver and a Pure margarita on the rocks.

Pure has great cheese dip, topped with pureed jalapenos. Their guacamole could use some cilantro and jalapeno but is generally not offensive. Smoky salsa is great with their new improved thinner chips.

Except on this visit. The chips and dips arrived quickly but fifteen minutes later and still no drinks! LC went inside to check on them. When margaritas were finally delivered, they were extremely sour.

In the mean time, we had been eating the cheese dip and guacamole, both of which were so salty they were nearly inedible. I didn’t need to order my margarita with salt, I could have just wiped some of the cheese around the rim. How can they fuck up something so simple?

After another incredibly long wait, our margaritas were replaced with new ones made with freshly squeezed limes and agave nectar by the very understanding manager. Much improved but there was no excuse for the slow service and mediocre food. Sure, we didn’t eat much but why risk more over-exposure to sodium?

Pure, I need a break from you. But, like with all break-ups, the bad memories will subside over time and by Spring I may give you a chance to make it up to me.

My love affair with Pure may be over for now, but our evening was not as we headed for yet another destination with a totally different outcome….to be continued tomorrow!

It wasn’t enough to eat white trash wings at the Holiday Inn on Capital Avenue. No, we had to take the junkfoodmania one step further and order a pizza at my place.

This is no simple task. I rarely order pizza delivery, for three reasons:
1) The driver can never find my condo.
2) It’s cold by the time it arrives because of reason #1
3) After all that hassle, it’s not even good!

Pizza Hut has delivered edible pizza in the past. I usually get a thin crust veggie with ham or some other made-up variation with onions, black olives, and ham. It’s around $10 for a medium….not too shabby.

But for some reason LC suggested Domino’s and I agreed, despite my lifelong boycott of the anti-choice Christian fanatic company. I went online to get a phone number and check out the options. Pan pizza sounded good but he wanted thin. I ordered a thin supreme….or I think they call it extravaganza or something.

When I want pizza, and I mean good pizza, I go to Fritti. Although I’ve heard great reports, I’ve yet to visit Antico….but it’s on my to do list!

Back to the Domino’s delivery. About 40 minutes after I ordered, I got a call from the driver. He couldn’t find my place. Shocking! My condo is impossible to locate, even with GPS. I walked outside but didn’t see him, yet tried to guide him in the right direction. After about ten minutes of this nonsense, there he was, walking up my sidewalk, cold pizza in hand.

Poor dude, it wasn’t his fault so I tipped as I normally would. The damn thing was $16 so I gave him a $20. When I got it upstairs, LC was asleep. More for me!

And isn’t that what everyone wants? More half-ass pizza! Sausage, pepperoni, ham, black olives, onion, green peppers, mushrooms, and cheese on a flavorless crust that (I’m guessing) tastes about like the cardboard box it came in. The addition of fresh grated parmesan and hot pepper flakes did little to redeem the disc of dough that, despite being thin, was still not crispy. An abundance of mediocre marinara added insult to injury.

Next time I want to do something ridiculous like order pizza delivery would somebody please just say no?