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When Cheap Food Turns Ritzy

2/7/07

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When the Burrito Burned Me

It starts almost like a bad, racist joke (like something I might make):  My co-worker Javier and I went to Chipotle for lunch last week; burritos were on the mind.  I like burritos, and in terms of cost and relative taste, nothing in this area beats Chipotle, especially when you are used to going to the Mission District in San Francisco and getting a burrito from El Farolito Brothers or Pancho Villa and getting a gargantuan meal in a tortilla for like $4.

Chipotle (or, as they're usually called, Señor McDonalds) doesn't make much; in fact, there are only two things on their menu:  burritos (served like burritos, or in a fajita, or in a bowl), and tacos (soft or hard).  You could order a quesadilla from most locations, although this more or less depends on the patience of the people behind the counter.  (It's a small quesa, and after seeing it once, I never needed to order it again.)  After you pick what kind of meat you want in your burrito/tacos, you can add salsa, beans, rice, and cheese.  On this particular outing, I went this way:  Barbacoa meat, hot salsa, black beans, rice, cheese, lettuce.

At this point, you are pretty much done.  When Javier and I went last week, we got to the point where the kind woman behind the counter asked me, "Anything else?"  I said no, I was good, and then--as she was about to start wrapping the burrito up--she looked up at me and asked,

"Guacamole?"

Let's stop for a second.  I like guacamole, but I don't love it.  For a long time, I didn't want to have anything to do with the stuff.  Then, a couple of years ago, I went out to a restaurant in Evanston with my friends Terry, Erin, and Keith "Money" Karem and at this particular Mexican place, they had the best fucking guacamole I have ever had; much like having real tequila for the first time last spring at the wedding in Puerto Vallarta, this guacamole was clearly a homemade concoction, one that sent chills down the spine.  I found myself eating guac--REAL guac--for the first time, and I fell in love at first bite.  Since that evening, I have always given guac a shot, even if I know it will never replicate the guac from that magical night outside of Chicago.

Back in the present, I looked at the señorita behind the counter and told her, "Sure, I'll take some guac," and proceeded to head to the register.  My tin foil-laden burrito had a funny marking--it had a big black G on the side--but I didn't take note of this until I saw the guy ring up my burrito and a fountain drink:

$10.

I nearly lost it...at least, in my head.  I had a strange burning sensation running through me; did I just order a burrito and soda at fucking McDonald's North and now, I'm taking it in the ass for ten fucking dollars???  I was beside myself; just the other day, I had been here and ordered a burrito to go--no soda, no guac--for $6.14; now, it's ten fucking dollars???

After about three seconds, I settled down internally and gave the guy the cash.  I walked over to get my drink and found myself sweating, odd given that it was about 35° outside; I felt like I was just taken advantage of...or, was I?  I turned back to look at the big menu board to see what just happened:

• Barbacoa:  $5.85

• Guacamole:  $1.50

Wait a minute...the guacamole--clearly, this needed to be imported from, I don't know, Spain or Mexico or Nepal overnight--was an extra buck-fifty?  What kind of fucking guac was this place serving?  Wow...I had no idea that guac should cost you more, but maybe it's always more, and I just never realized it; in ordering things at Taco Bell, you get a little soft and uncultured, you know?

I grabbed my burrito and left...and, I vowed to never make that mistake again.  Looks like from now on, I should do Chipotle as carry-out sans the guac; at least then, it's not wallet abuse, eh?

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When the Tapas Place Torched Me

A few months ago, for my friend Fayette's birthday, about eight of us went to La Tasca in Arlington for some food and some hangin' out.  I thought I was sure of what kind of place La Tasca was--a freakin' tapas joint--but, this was a birthday situation, so I did not want to opt out of hangin' with my girl Fayette because she is always good times.

But, I fucking HATE tapas places.

I'm pretty sure my parents told me at some point that if you go out to eat, you don't want to leave the restaurant hungry...which, despite having the money to eat at nicer places, is the main reason why I don't go to eat at tapas places--I always leave hungry, because the serving sizes are usually more tasting menu than adult-sized portion.  La Tasca specializes in traditional tapas (Spanish for "ocean-sized ripoff"; French for "the restaurant will put it right in your ass"), which basically means that you arrive, order a pitcher of sangria, and then proceed to order a long string of bite-sized gourmet hors d'oeuvres while drinking with anywhere from three to ten good friends of yours.

As community goes, even the grinch in me will admit that the socializing that comes during any tapas meal is usually quite good.  You're hangin' out in what amounts to a higher-end Mexican place (even if it's really Spanish food), you're drinking the happy Kool-Aid, you're taking little bites out of little food that do just enough to tease you with what good food might taste like if you had ordered enough to fill you up.

Unfortunately for me, when I go out to eat, I like the eating part just as much as the socializing part.  So while I originally thought that tapas places would die off five to ten years ago, I was sadly mistaken; people still regularly like going to them.  I keep asking myself--why?

On the night that I went to La Tasca with Fayette, there we were, chillin' on a weeknight at the restaurant.  We probably ordered about 15 dishes that night, meaning that each of us had a little bit of everything as they made their way around our table.  My favorite part of the tapas experience?  Probably the ordering part (I happened to be late on this particular night, so I missed some of this); you pick out a couple of dishes that you think would be good additions to the table, and along with the other folks involved, you pick like six or seven things that will be served and passed when they arrive.  And, wouldn't you know it--EVERY TIME I HAVE GONE TO A TAPAS PLACE, the empanadas that I thought would be really tasty for the people started at the other end of the table, so that by the time they got to me, there is like a whisper of the damn thing left, so I lick the plate dry with the empanada crumbs left on the saucer ("plate" would be an overstatement for a dish the size of your hand) and decide to order another one...right around the time that the table is "full" (from eating what, I cannot fathom) and doesn't want to order another round of dishes.

After this happens, more sangria is ordered, a couple of dessert tapas are served, and then we get the bill.  Can you believe that you would drop $30 a person for a round of appetizers and some sangria?  You can if you are at a tapas place!  And, guess what?  I'm still freakin' hungry.  At the time, all that mattered to me was that Fayette was having a great time, but the second I finished up with tapas and some billiards at a nearby bar, I hightailed it to a Wendy's to actually have some dinner.  And, damn, a Spicy Chicken sandwich never tasted so good!

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When the Fondue Place Fucked Me

Every time I have been to The Melting Pot, I am always amazed by the smooth, romantic decor and intimate lighting.  I can't deny it--the place seems like a high-end place to have a dinner.

Then, I open the menu and remember the trick here: these guys boil cheese for a living.

While I haven't been in a while, I had to go to the website's menu to remember just how bad of a torching it is these days to eat freakin' hot cheese...and, the memories are blistering my skull as I read through the price list.

When you go to The Melting Pot, what typically happens is that your party of four to ten people orders a cheese fondue, a round of things to dip into your cheese fondue, and then chocolate fondue, because you just can't go to The Melting Pot and not get hot chocolate lovin' as a dessert.  Then, a big pot of the cheese is brought out, along with a cute array of skewers, which make you feel all warm inside.  Ooh, how I love steak, chicken and pork...especially when they are bite-sized portions that I can dip into a big pot of steaming cheese!!!

I'm clumsy with things like chopsticks anyway, so imagine the swordfight that takes place when I get my goofy hands going in a pot of sexy fondue with other friends' skewers pokin' around in there...there's also a good chance that I will lose my skewered meat or vegetable product into the abyss that is the pot.  By the time I have put three or four pieces of meat down--all covered in hot cheese, ahh, the smell of it!!--I am intrigued and just now getting hungry.

Unfortunately, the dinner portion of the meal is almost over.

After the cheese is gone ($16 covers just the first two people; after that, it's $8 a head just for the cheese, so you are normally looking at about $64 for the cheese at your eight-person table), and you go through your "dippers", you move to the chocolate fondue phase, which while quite tasty is also just a tease for anyone who normally has what I call an "appetite"...and, it will cost you about $30 for the chocolate fondue, which usually feeds the whole table.  Whether you do it in individual stages or as part of the bulk package The Melting Pot pushes on you when you arrive, you're looking at about $40/person for access to cheese, some dippers, a salad, and the chocolate dessert.  For a date, The Melting Pot seems like a decent deal...but, I never go there on dates.  I seem to only go for New Year's dinners or birthday parties, and much like the tapas places, I almost always leave hungry.

At least the one in Arlington has The Lost Dog within a few minutes' drive...the even stranger thing about the fondue at The Melting Pot?  You could just roll over to Target and buy yourself a freakin' fondue maker for $30 right now.  Would that be too easy as well?

 

Random Bellviews, courtesy of Bell & Longer Community Trust:

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• US Weekly:  Rental

• That an astronaut love triangle story was the lead on CNN.com for like three days:  Hard Vice

 

justin@bellviewmovies.com