Thursday Morning Quarterback: Episodes Four & Five

Thursday Morning Quarterback is a weekly attempt to humorously recap each new episode of Top Chef Texas on the Bravo Network (as if you didn’t know).
Beware; there are spoilers below!

guaranteed payday loans

Editors Note: Yeah yeah yeah. Computer and DVR problems rule my life. Get over it.
Here we go:

EPISODE FOUR:

  • Gross- the competition is sponsored by “Healthy Choice”. I miss Glad Bags already.
  • Chiles, Chiles, Chiles- nothing makes me happier.
  • The Ghost Chile is NOT the hottest chile in the world. That would be the Guatemalan Insanity Pepper; grown in the jungle by inmates of an insane asylum.
  • Paul Qui goes for the ghost pepper. Go big or go home.
    (I typed that before he said it. Spooky)
  • I swear up and down that Richie was not born a male (Notthatthere’sanythingwrongwiththat); Mrs. Headchef is still on the fence about it. What do you think?
  • Who makes a fucking habanero popper? This ain’t TGIFridays. (Then she finishes in the top three, of course)
  • Woooooo! I’m telling you that Paul is not to be messed with.
  • ALL NIGHT TO COOK? Spoiled bastards.
  • Cubed chuck; onions; tomatoes; chili powder; a little corn masa; salt. Anything more and YOU INSULT THE GREAT STATE OF TEXAS!
  • Bwaaa! TOM!
  • I can’t believe they’re using brisket in their chili. What a waste of a luxurious cut of meat, especially considering that the long cooking time will cause the meat to disintegrate. I predict angry cowboys.
  • Peaches? PEACHES? This ain’t Fredricksburg.
  • One hour is not a lot of time to reheat chili without scorching it. I deal with that once a week at my restaurant job and it’s no party.
  • Kind of surprised that no team attempted a chili verde. Huh.
  • Huh. The brisket chili is stringy. Shocking.
  • BEANS HAVE NO BUSINESS IN CHILI! Ok- maybe in whatever yankee carpetbagger state you come from, but certainly not in Tix-ass.
  • “There’s no crying in cooking”-Nyesha. Yeah, not in front of any other chefs anyway.
  • Padma on a horse.
  • Ooh- double elimination challenge with the leftover chili. I suggest a walking taco.
  • Sad to see Richie go home. He had a very ambitious style, and I honestly thought he was a contender.

ON TO EPISODE FIVE:

  • 14 chefs remain. WHO YA GOT?
  • Moving on to Dallas. HOME OF THE COWBOYS! THE MAVERICKS! THE RANGERS! J.R. EWING! YEEEEEHAW!
  • “Isn’t Dolly Parton from Dallas?”- Beverly. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Every third Dolly song mentions she’s from the Smokey Mountains of Tennessee. You deserve to be eliminated on that dumb comment alone, you freaking crybaby.
  • Wow. Chris used to be a little on the husky side.
  • Road block. I feel like there are better uses for TX state troopers, namely, targeting out of state drivers with a ruthless efficiency.
  • You can use anything you find in the field? Does that include cow chips and mesquite?
  • You might as well run backwards through that cornfield, as that’s feedcorn unfit for human consumption, and you ain’t got time to nixtamalize it.
  • Oh wow, the corn was too dry. The corn from those drying stalks of feedcorn. Shocking.
  • Lindsey’s little soup and sandwich was cute. Glad she won the challenge. What the hell is a Vienna sausage, though?
  • STFU, Dakota. Nobody likes you.
  • That’s some hotel room. Some neighborhood. Some house. Nobody does classless opulence like Dallas.
  • No peppers or cilantro. Welcome to Dallas; a city most Texans find to be as Northeastern as Boston.
  • Dude in the pink shirt (gummy bear lover) went to his stylist and asked for the “Mark Cuban”.
  • During a bump the editors threw in a shot of Dealey Plaza. Classy. Strange that they didn’t highlight Ford’s Theater during Top Chef DC.
  • Wow, those are some ugly kitchens.
  • I think they’re singling out Beverly just to make her cry now.
  • Have I mentioned what a fierce competitor Paul is? I’m developing a serious mancrush.
  • “If you wanted it to look like a cigar, clearly it was a pretty poorly rolled one. Obviously little Dominican children did not make them”- Mrs Headchef
  • Oh wow, seared diver scallops. Nobody EVER makes those.
  • Dakota’s plate looks like a pile of monkey poop.
  • Nothing like an after-dinner margarita. Or ten.
  • PAUL DOMINATES AGAIN! AUSTIN REPRESENT!
  • Chuy really dropped the ball on this one. Sad, because I like a lot of his dishes.
  • Chris certainly let out his inner fat kid. Too bad that fat kid went to Old Country Buffet.
  • I really can’t believe that Chuy’s dish was worse than Chris’ dessert or the lame cigar. That’s a real shocker.

Okay, see you on time this Thursday morning. From the Southfork Ranch? AWESOME.

Reducer Podcast 201: Bring Me The Head of Ava Marie Hamilton*

"The nachos ARE the bomb!"

Welcome to Big Premiere Friday! No Tuesday post, sorry for being mortal, but here’s the Second Season Premiere of The Reducer Podcast.

In this episode we bring you up to speed on our summer, talk up the Town Talk, dish on Guy Fieri (see what I did there?) and ramble about food and cooking while punctuating the show with a good dose of potty humor and tasteless hippie-bashing. All that and much, much more!

WARNING: Explicit Language. Not suitable for adults.

*Metaphorically speaking, of course.

The Martes Chronicles: What We Did Last Summer (Part One)

Ow-ah skyline is gritty-ah than you-ah skyline!

I don’t have a tremendous amount of love for the state commonwealth of Massachusetts.
I have family there; I’ve lived there; I’ve even been thrown out of a couple schools there. But like Homer Simpson in New York, bad things always seem to happen to me in Massachusetts, and Boston in particular.

Oh, excuse me, I meant Baaaahs-tan. Sacred centah of facking REDSAWX WELKAH NATION! THE TAAAAWN OF FIGHTAHS!

Boston brings up a lot of mixed feelings for me. For the most part it’s a lovely city. Beautiful neighborhoods, nice restaurants and a rich connection to American history make it a town worth seeing at least once. On the other hand; Boston is pretty much what you get when you take New York City; remove most of its ethnic diversity and replace it with clones of Frasier Crane and THIS guy:

WEEEEEELKAAAAAAAAAH!

Boston is a town with an inferiority complex so deeply woven into its cultural tapestry that they make Chicagoans seem slightly less provincial. For a city that rubs its connection to the American Revolution in everybody’s face, they certainly seem to have less of a problem with draconian tax policy, political corruption and social engineering than they had 200+ years ago.This is also a city that prides itself on the loyalty of their “die-haaaahd” sports fans, and yes, their beisbol fans are very serious, possibly the most vocal in the country, but their run of championships in all the major professional sports leagues over the last decade has dimmed memories a bit.

It used to be Red Sawx and Celtics and nothing else and HOLY CRAP WE HAVE A FOOTBAAAHL TEAM! AND THEY’VE WON THREE SUPAAAAH BOWLS!

I know this because when I lived and visited Massachusetts frequently in the mid-nineties, all their teams sucked, with the perpetual-bridesmaid Sawx being the only show in town. When I visited for the first time in over a decade this last summer; I saw an awful lot of pristine Bruins jerseys and Pats throwbacks with the tag still on them.

Rockport, MA

We didn’t spend all our time in Beantown. Mostly we explored some of the seaside towns north of the big city: Salem, Gloucester and Rockport. We saw our share of “quaint” and “distinctive” villages, salty locals in Sawx hats and fishstick factories.

Gorton's Fishtick Factory: Gloucester, MA

In all seriousness; it was nicer than I expected it to be. The setting is beautiful (and I don’t even like the ocean that much), the people seem to be genuinely friendly and the food is pretty damn good. If you’re like me, however, and you don’t eat shellfish, you’re going to run into some problems finding something on a menu that won’t incite anaphylaxis/anger your sky-deity.

Haddock: f***ing get used to it.

Interestingly; Massachusetts state law requires sufferers of shellfish allergies to identify themselves to the server and for management to speak with the customer on the subject. At nearly every sit-down restaurant we went to I would have a brief interview with either a floor manager or chef on the severity of my allergy, and they would suggest whichever Haddock dish I could order off the menu. The one time I was shy about it and just decided to order whatever looked safe without alerting the waiter was the only night I had a reaction.

I normally disagree with states micromanaging the restaurant business, but in a state where even the ice in your drink has lobster in it, it’s not the worst idea.

Pictured: A Gloucester Sno-Cone

One thing Massachusetts has on everywhere else is the ubiquity of Dunkin Donuts.

FACKIN DUNKIN-NATION!

You know that Simpsons where Bart walks into the mall and every store is a Starbucks? You cannot walk 50 yards in any Massachusetts town without passing a Dunkin Donuts. This is not a complaint. I miss my Dunkin; they don’t have it anywhere near me; it’s a real treat and their coffee is underrated. It is a little weird how they changed the name of the airport in Boston from Logan to Dunkin, but I suppose that’s better than FACKIN LARRY-LEGEND-WOODHEAD-WELKAH-DUNKIN-PEDROYAH International Airport.

The joke is that they don't think through names very well.

Then there was the fishing.
I’m not a big fisherman, but when given the opportunity to get up at the crack of dawn with a stomach full of Dunkin and do some ocean fishing, I jumped at it. I never caught a thing, shlimazel that I am, but two members of my party each a caught 30″+ stripped bass that they kept, and two huge bluefish they threw back.

The freshest sashimi you'll ever eat.

Beautifully; the guys running the boat were happy to butcher the fish on the ride back to port (for a small portion of the catch). At one point they had to tend to boat-business, so my cousin (who took us on this trip in the first place) finished the job for them, rinsing the freshly cut pieces in the ocean water and handing them off for us to eat.

How the sausage is made...

It was easily the freshest fish I’d ever eaten. When we came ashore we headed straight for the grocery store to pick up a few components to dress up our catch.
Here’s a selection of what I whipped up for everybody:

Stripped Bass Sashimi

  • Wrap your fish steak in plastic wrap and put in freezer for 15 minutes.
  • Remove from freezer. Slice thinly with sharp knife against the grain.
  • Serve with shoyu and wasabi.

Stripped Bass Crudo

  • Wrap your fish steak in plastic wrap and put in freezer for 15 minutes.
  • Remove from freezer. Slice thickly (roughly 1″) with sharp knife against the grain.
  • Dress with olive oil, lemon juice, salt and pepper.

 

  • Stripped Bass Poke
    • Cut fish into bite size cubes.
    • Dress with shoyu, rice vinegar, sesame oil and scallions to taste.
    • Because this isn’t real Hawaiian Poke- be sure to pronounce it the way they do in Massachusetts- as if it’s something you do on Facebook.

    Stripped Bass Ceviche

    • Cut fish into slightly larger than bite size cubes.
    • Add some sliced purple onion, some chopped cilantro, a little chopped jalapeno, salt & pepper and enough lime juice to cover the whole mixture.
    • Marinate in the lime juice for a minimum of 45 minutes.
    • Serve with chopped avocados and corn nuts/parched corn.

Last breakfast in Rockport

So that was it. Just a few days out east and then back to the Midwest where a massive heatwave was waiting for us. Next week here at Reducer: Miami.

In Massachusetts: only Kennedys are allowed to play football on the beach.

The Martes Chronicles: Tortilla Me Up, Tortilla Me Down

After my totally fair and in no way hyperbolic critique of the Walk-A-Taco last month, I expected more people to come to its defense. Apparently I made a pretty good case against the product, as most of the feedback I received was in agreement with my less-than-positive appraisal.

The only thing that seemed to throw people were a few throwaway comments I made disparaging flour tortillas. I’ve made no secret of my Mexican food snobbery and the various excuses I have for expecting you to tolerate it. At the same time; I don’t consider myself some kind of omnipotent expert on the subject. There are limits to my knowledge, and as much as I might like to be, I’m not the Space-Pope of Mexican food.

Rick Bayless is the Space Pope of Mexican food

That would be this guy.

It just happens to be something I was raised with; that I’m both deeply familiar with and constantly learning something new about. If Mexican food can be quantified as a single entity (which is asking a lot) it holds the strongest sense memories for me. Every Mexican dish and technique in my repertoire, simple or complex, in inextricably tied to people, places and events from my life. The smells and tastes often remind me of family and friends; parties held; romances kindled; places visited long ago.
Even the right combination of stray scents from the right restaurant or mercado, caught on a random street in a random American city, will transport me to being three years old in a Juarez market with my parents.

Often just the suggestion of Mexican food, even bad Mexican food, will make my mouth water like nothing else. This isn’t like a “reclaiming my lost childhood” kind of thing either; I’ve always been this way. Sesame Street was on right before lunch when I was a kid.
How could you not NEED tacos after watching this?

It’s easily my favorite culinary framework to operate in, being a perfect combination of challenging and familiar, with enough breath and depth to never be boring. I guess what I’m trying to say is that when I’m cooking you Mexican food, I’m showing off as much as possible.

I also happen to think, and this is merely my opinion, that when ranked against the other three major cuisines (arguably: Chinese, Italian and French. Feel free to disagree) that Mexican cuisine DESTROYS them in terms of sophistication and influence.

But I repeat.

I’ll give all due credit to the Chinese for inventing cooked food, the French for innovating technique and the Italians for showing the world how to treat ingredients- among many other obvious contributions to world cuisine. But remove the tomato, corn, beans, squash, sweet potato, peanuts, chile peppers, avocado, chocolate and vanilla (all of which either originated or were cultivated in Pre-Columbian Mexico) from those cuisines and many of their “classics” become less than awesome.

In terms of sophistication; read about how the Mayans and Aztecs figured out how to process chocolate and vanilla; both of which require precise fermentation and processing in order to transform the raw ingredients into the flavors we recognize. If they were smart enough to figure that out on their own, then they were certainly smart enough to build pyramids without extraterrestrial assistance.

http://twitpic.com/5qa0it

I’ve been cooking a lot of simple Mexican food for myself lately. About four days a week, I make my own tortillas.
Now, I don’t hate flour tortillas. Given the choice I’ll almost always choose corn over flour and I have a lot of difficulty accepting flour tortillas for items like tacos and enchiladas, but sometimes you want/need a burrito and flour is the only thing that will do.

Part of my snobbery stems from my upbringing, but it was working at the Restaurant of the Peninsular States Just Below California where I became spoiled on flour tortillas fresh off the comal. Corn tortillas have a fairly lengthy shelf life if stored properly. Flour tortillas begin to taste bad the moment they begin to cool down. Factory-made flour tortillas are particularly bad this way, as the heavy amount of shortening they use to keep the tortillas moist takes on an unappealing sour taste in no time.
Most burrito joints will warm these factory-mades on a flattop of some sort, but anyone who’s eaten a leftover burrito that they had in the fridge for a night knows that the tortilla is gonna be the worst part.

So I’ll eat flour tortillas; but I’m picky about when I do.

Making them at home is no picnic. You can buy flour tortilla mixes like White Wings at most large grocery stores (requiring only that you add water). They’re a staple in lots of homes and they make for a great product. The problem is that even the instant mixes require a lot of kneading and rolling out by hand, and failure to use a roller properly can result in tortillas that belong in the pita bread family. If you have the time and the energy; fresh flour tortillas are totally worth the effort and can elevate a meal quite a bit.

The other potential downside to flour tortillas is the lack of options for leftovers. Even homemade ones start to taste funky after a couple of days. They don’t make very good chips, or fry well for soups, so I find the best option is to make pizzas out of them.

Nothing is this world, however, can touch the fresh, soft corn tortilla.

First off; the smell of fresh masa is amazing. Whether in comes from a mix at the grocery store or it’s being ground fresh in a Mexican marketplace; it’s easily one of my favorite smells. Getting up early in the morning and making a stack of corn tortillas to last through the day improves the quality of every day I do it. They can be a lot of work for one person (like a lot of Mexican food, tortillas are a lot more fun when made in an assembly line of family or friends), but once you get the technique down, it’s no more difficult than baking bread.

 

Masa mix can be purchased at nearly any large grocery store, but Mexican mercados might carry fresh ground masa or other specialties like blue corn masa. I use a cast iron pan to cook mine on; and I recommend you do the same.


Because I make a lot of tortillas at home, buying a tortilla press made sense a long time ago. My wife and I went through two Mexican-made cast aluminum presses before we realized that our tortilla making was too heavy duty for these common grocery store models.

While shopping in an Indian grocery store, we stumbled on a cast iron chapati press (size 4) that seemed perfectly suited to our needs. We’ve had the same one for more than five years and it’s been nothing but reliable. The one in the picture above isn’t ours.
Ours came with a swastika on it for some reason.

I’ve posted plenty of taco-related recipes on here before, but when you’ve finished with tacos and still have plenty of leftover corn tortillas you have a whole world of other options for them.

  • You can fry them whole for tostadas or roll them up with cheese for flautas (or taquitos, if you will).
  • You can fry large strips or triangle for your own homemade tortilla chips (always better than from a bag) or for chilaquiles.

My personal favorite is migas (featured at the very top of the page). A simple combination of day-old corn tortillas torn roughly and sauteed in oil until crispy with onions and peppers, then scrambled up with eggs. Migas are a little more Tex-Mex, especially with the addition of cheese, salsa and sour cream, which even I can’t resist some times.

There are no hard and fast rules for how to make them, but the basic ratio is two 6″ tortillas to every one egg, and the order into the pan goes as follows:
Tortillas; onions; chiles; eggs; cheese; cilantro; etc…

Of course the greatest thing anyone can do with a tortilla chip; the one thing all little pieces of corn dream of being a part of someday; is the nacho.

But I think y’all already know how I feel about nachos.

The Jueves Chronicles: A Word from the Ghost of Orson Welles

Birdseye......

Ladies and gentlemen, audience members, food bloggers and Polish spam hackers; I am the disembodied spirit of one George Orson Welles; better known to the public at large as actor, director, author, bon vivant, theatrical innovator, conspiracy theorist and planet -sized Transformer: Orson Welles.

I’ve taken some time away from constantly haunting Harry’s Bar in Venice, much as I did in my more corporeal manifestation, to discuss the current state of The Reducer Network.

/Tries to lift gravy boat. Fat ghost hands just knock it over.

Ah, yes… where was I?  Reducer! Firstly I am told that Headchef apologies for not publishing his regular Tuesday column as scheduled. Apparently the reviews were quite favorable up to this point, and had he not been indisposed as of late, you the reader would have this week’s article trucked away in your trouser pocket… on some sort of electograph device, no doubt.

I should make a point of mentioning that I have not personally spoken with Headchef. As an adherent of the Israelite creed, he is obligated to avoid engaging in discourse with all manner of supernatural apparitions, and as such we communicated through an intermediary. Such is the superstition among some groups of men. David Sarnoff dealt me a similar treatment when he re-cut The Magnificent Ambersons.

No implication; merely an observation.

/Notices rotisserie chicken on spit. Watches it without blinking for five full minutes.

Ahem.

I was further informed by his representative that the powers that be at the Reducer Network are looking for more feedback from the audience members. While they want to continue to bring you the best in gourmet living for the proletariat along with a smattering of humor; frankly they’re a little burned out.

Looking at the website over that last three months; one would believe that they haven’t been very busy. To paraphrase Otto Von Bismark; none of you have seen the sausage as it’s being made. The diligent fellows in charge of Reducer have recorded and summarily jettisoned more than five separate podcasts. While releasing these completed, full-length recordings would certainly keep traffic moving steadily to this page; they did not meet the exacting standards of the creators; and therefore will remain unheard for the time being.

Make no mistake. There will be a second season of the Reducer Podcast; along with additional comedy podcasts more centered on toilet humor and cheap chicanery.

There will be more recipes; many of which have already been photographed and polished, yet remain unpublished for reasons unimportant. There will be continued ranting published on a regular basis by Headchef and General BBQ, and perhaps Fulla will grace us with his presence and wit at some unforeseen point.

This brings me to what is possibly the most important aspect of this announcement:

Reader participation.

Firstly; if you haven’t started following us on Twitter or Facebook; do yourself a favor and click the tabs on the left of this page linking to those respective social networking sites. This simple action will afford you an opportunity to access information and announcements that you may not be privy to while merely visiting Reducernet or subscribing to the feed.You can also use this to interact directly with the publishers of the site; not to merely comment on articles, but also to pose direct questions and requests.

If you, dear reader, are also the type inclined to photographing food, traveling for the sake of eating or any of the other behavior associated with food blogging, but don’t have the time or energy to manage your own food blog; Reducer is extending an open invitation to any potential contributors, regardless of culinary experience or background.

Reducer is looking for corespondents to submit articles, recipes, photos and videos on anything related to food. Especially (though not exclusively) welcome are non-Twin Cities residents willing to describe the food scenes of their respective metropoli and therefore build this network of, how was it put again?

Ah, yes:

“a network of mercenary chefs, bartenders and other assorted smart asses producing original online content on the world of food and cooking.”

Frankly, much of this could have and should have been done sooner; but sadly life does not always spoon feed our opportunities to us at a rate we are comfortable with. Sometimes one must grab the hoagie of fate with both hands and not stop chewing until you have a greasy wad of waxed paper trapped in your beard.

Don’t let yourself choke on the pickle, dear reader.

And the sandwich... is gone!

 

 

The Martes Chronicles: What’s So Hard About Eating a Taco?

The small handful of you that follow us on Twitter or listen to the podcast might be familiar with my gripe about the “Walk-A-Taco“; a local food item currently being promoted at Target Field.

Despite being the product of Saint Paul’s iconic Latin market, El Burrito Mercado, the Walk-a-Taco is essentially everything that Americans get wrong with Mexican food compounded into a conical travesty of shredded lettuce and ground beef. The supreme wrongness of the concept, along with the condescending tone in which it’s marketed to Target Field patrons, reaches a level of stupidity so epic that my body is unable to produce the sarcasm necessary to express how much it bothers me.

I’ll try anyway.

Stupid Thing #1: The Concept.

According to El Burrito Mercado’s Tomas Silva; this conical abomination was created with the intention to “Make it so people could enjoy good Mexican food in an easier format”. I’ll get into how not-Mexican the actual contents are in a moment; but for now I want to focus on the forehead-slapping stupidity of the above statement.

An “easier format”. AN EASIER FORMAT?

Is there an easier cuisine on earth to eat than Mexican food? Were the people of Minnesota clamoring for an easier vehicle in which to deliver ground beef and onions into their mouths? Should we add “eating the world’s simplest street food” to the list of things Minnesotans can’t do, along with “navigate a four-way Stop sign” or “win a Super Bowl*”?

*Burn.

Being a non-native Minnesotan; I give the locals a lot of crap for being dumb; but always with the caveat that they’re mostly smart with a tendency to do dumb things. Sure they vote wrastlers and unemployed comedians to public office; but there’s plenty of good museums, theaters and schools to make up for it. They’re not Missouri or Oklahoma dumb, more like Massachusetts dumb.

But to take something like a taco, which is purpose built for holding in your hand while you eat it, and somehow find a way to dumb it down because “DURRRR! EATING TACOS MAKES MY BRAIN HURT!” drags this state to Mississippi-levels of dumbassery.

Look! Here’s a four year old eating a taco while standing up. Notice how he’s not crying for his mommy to show him how to do it. Notice how he’s not having any kind of aneurism due to the complex logistics involved in taco eating.

Now perhaps the Minnesota contingent reading this will argue; “But Headchef! Clearly this boy is some kind of child prodigy future rocket surgeon. Eating a taco while standing is not something that any idiot can do!

I submit the following evidence to the contrary:

Pictured: Two idiots eating tacos while standing.

Stupid Thing #2: The Execution

A quick browsing of my iTunes library will demonstrate to anyone that I have a high tolerance, nay- a love, of lowbrow trash. One thing I am ruthlessly snobbish about, however, is Mexican food.

Growing up in the Southwest and California, having Mexican half-siblings and learning to cook from these family members instilled in me a deep and abiding love for authentic Mexican cuisine in all its variations. I dig Tex-Mex food as well, but I’ve known since I was about 6 that if your taco/tostada/burrito is covered in shredded lettuce, cheddar cheese and sour cream- then it ain’t really Mexican food, tasty as it may be.

That’s the other thing that infuriates me about the Walk-a-Taco; is that almost nothing about it bears any resemblance to a taco. Head down I35 to Laredo some time, purchase yourself a flak jacket and head across the border to get a taco.

If you order from a stand where Mexicans are eating; the first thing you’ll notice is that your tacos, in addition to costing roughly 12 cents each, look like this:

Lengua Taco

Lengua Taco on Home-made Tortilla

That’s some braised cow tongue on a handmade SOFT CORN tortilla, garnished simply with chopped onion and cilantro. If you want to go really crazy you can throw some salsa or a thin taqueria guacamole on there; but anything else is essentially gilding the lily.

The Walk-a-taco eschews simplicity, authenticity and good taste for the Midwestern standby of PILING ON THE CHEESE AND TOPPINGS!

First off- the whole thing is stuffed into a fried flour tortilla. This makes sense from a structural standpoint considering the mess of toppings within, but is a big fail in the nomenclature department, as the the fried flour shell would put it more in chimichanga territory than anything else.

Further investigation from this guy’s excellent review reveals the ugly truth: The Walk-a-taco is, in fact, less a taco than a taco salad. Apparently once you drop below the ground beef facade and into the tortilla itself; the contents are mostly shredded lettuce dressed in vinaigrette!

For those of you keeping score at home; the cumulative offenses of the Walk-a-Taco are as follows:

  • Fried flour tortilla
  • Ground beef
  • Shredded lettuce
  • Cheddar cheese
  • Sour cream
  • Chopped tomatoes
  • The perfunctory addition of jalapenos and cilantro
  • Motherfucking salad dressing

The most offensive detail comes courtesy of Josh’s review; that the Walk-a-Taco not only comes with a fork, but requires one in order to be eaten.

WHAT THE FUCK?

To review: The “taco” designed to make Mexican food “more accessible” and “easier to eat” is neither more accessible or easier to eat than an actual taco, nor is it remotely Mexican. The Walk-a-Taco is an absolute failure of concept, execution and delivery.

It’s a fucked-out boondoggle of a food item that could barely be eaten sitting on the couch in front of the TV; let alone at the ballpark it was intended to be eaten at. A cold seafood tower makes more sense as ballpark fare than this faux-Mexican abortion in a cone.

The most infuriating part is that if they really wanted to have a ballpark-ready Tex-Mex item that’s a portable mess of ground beef, cheese and sour cream; they could have simply used the one that already exists.

It’s called the Walking Taco. It’s a bag of corn chips (usually Fritos) cut open with a bunch of Tex-Mex toppings like chili and cheese dumped on top of them. They’re popular all over the Southwest at rodeos and football games, and while they do require a fork to eat, you can actually eat them while standing or walking.

I really wish I could have been present at the meeting where they decided an inedible mess of a taco salad served in a giant Bugle made more sense at Target Field than a Tex-Mex classic with practically the SAME FUCKING NAME.

No doubt they spent enough time watching the locals struggle with four way Stop signs and decided they didn’t want to risk customers suffocating themselves with the chip bag.

….

I went to Target Field for the third time this year and saw plenty of suckers carrying Walk-a-Tacos around. Not in their hands, mind you. No, they needed a cardboard stand to hold them in while they brought their shit-in-a-tortilla back to their seats.

Two days later I made flank steak tacos for a friend’s birthday; complete with handmade tortillas. We found ourselves outside on my porch watching the Aquatennial fireworks while we were eating. The view necessitated that we stand up while eating our tacos and, shockingly, no one broke their neck doing so.

Anyway; if you want to know how to make a taco that doesn’t suck; here’s the recipe for tacos de lengua. Try not to kill yourselves eating them.

 

 

Reducer Podcast 108: Wanted; Breaded or Fried

The entire episode in one photo

In this untimely episode of the Reducer podcast, which was posted a full week after it might have been relevant, Brian, a bag of potatoes and Joe interview their first guest; pastry chef Brian Titus.

Topics include; Paula Deen; Poop diaries; Southern Food; the dangers of sweet tea & chai; pimento cheese; sea salt & corn syrup; the hippiefication of fast food; behind the scenes at KFC; Taco Bell meat; Jon Bon Jovi’s free restaurant; koshering a kitchen and much much more.

WARNING: Explicit Language. Not suitable for adults.

 

Reducer Podcast 107: Sometimes Never is Better Than Late

The entire episode in one photo

After a lengthy absence; the Seventh Episode of The Reducer Podcast decides to grace us with its presence. About damn time.

The ghost of Julia Child starts things off right, before the episode quickly devolves into a verbal free-for-all that fails to live up to the promise of its lengthy production time.     Topics include; Tyra Banks; Liz Taylor; Cake Shows; Cake vs. Pie (again); Nutrition labels in restaurants; Bartending Records; The Death of Soup; Vegetarian McGangbangs; Medicating with food; Beefmato; Radiation in Japanese food; Keeping Kosher for Passover; KFP Coke; and Movies that make us hungry.

(Recorded 03/29/11)

WARNING: Explicit Language. Not suitable for adults.

 

Reducer Podcast 106: Bacon Burger Dog Bracketology

The entire podcast in one photo.

On the sixth and foodiest episode of the Reducer Podcast; the guys make themselves and everyone within earshot painfully hungry when they break down the best bar foods of the 68 schools in the NCAA basketball tournament.

In addition to the news and a new Feast or Famine segment, topics include beef tongue being trendy; Jack in the Box’s new food truck; Pepsi’s new bottle; Cliff Huxtable’s bacon burger dog; Joe defends Texas (again); Halal Bacon; BBQ plans and fantasies for the summer; and the announcement of the Reducer Picnic challenge (better name pending).

Music by Wiz Khalifa

Warning: Explicit Language. Not suitable for adults.