Obey Ronald

I opened the little McDonald's cardboard box and printed inside were the words "Savor your southern style chicken sandwich."

For $.99, I was expecting a breaded patty made of gray/chopped/pressed/cooked chicken-oid meat. Surprise! It appeared to be a real chicken breast. It was tender, juicy, and flavorful. The breading was crispy and seasoned nicely. Perhaps Ronald has infiltrated the Colonel's ranks and learned the secret of the eleven herbs and spices.

The chicken was served on a plain bun with some pickles. That's it.

I've heard it said--If it isn't helping things, then it's hurting. In this case, it's true. Lettuce, onions, mayo, or some ill-conceived "sauce" would've been no help. I suspect the recipe was more about hitting the $.99 price point than it was about simple elegance. Either way, niiiice sandwich. I give it 4 1/2 out of 5 polyester-clad fast food minions.

While we're on the topic of Italy...

I should've mentioned this earlier. The other night, I tasted a beverage called Aranciata It's made by the mineral water people, San Pellegrino. The label says it's a "sparkling orange beverage", but it ain't Orange Crush. It has an amazingly strong orange flavor, but it's not syrupy. It's also somewhat sour and a little bitter too. Some would say it's an acquired taste, but I acquired it instantly. Aranciata is an Italian product, but there's no need to fret. It's distributed in the U.S. and readily available in local supermarkets. Go get some.

Italian Irony

Dear Interweb,

Remember when I wrote the following: "How am I supposed to go back to Subway after this and pretend their meatball sub is even marginally edible?" Well, a few days later, my wife asks our monkeys, "Where do you want to eat? We'll go anywhere you want. " They shout, yes shout, "Sub-waaaaay!" Then they start hopping around, pumping their fists, and chanting "Sub-way, Sub-way, Sub-way!"

They don't read my blog. How did they know? And then my wife smirked that smirk, the one that really wants to be a big smile. In her mind's eye, she was pointing at me and laughing, but in the real world she was smirking . She's such a nice girl.

Little Italy

You know the problem with eating at real restaurants? Sometimes it really ruins the fast food experience. We ate at an Italian place tonight called Gloria's Little Italy. It's part bakery, part gelato stand, part deli, aaaand part sit-down restaurant. The service was kinda slow, and some of the lettuce in our salads was way past its prime. But then, redemption. I had the meatball panini. Holy cow! How am I supposed to go back to Subway after this and pretend their meatball sub is even marginally edible?

Go. Enjoy. Gloria's Little Italy, 279 East 300 South, Provo, UT, 801.805.4913

Fast and cheap just got faster and cheaper...

Here's the problem. I'd like to write more often, and I'd like to think it's worth reading. But, you wouldn't believe the hours I sometimes put into a few paragraphs, getting it just right. You also wouldn't believe how many posts I've started but haven't finished. What's the point of being all O.C.D. about a few words?

So, I'm going minimalist. I'll write more often, but it will be much more concise. There, it's faster. As for the cheaper, I have huge untapped resources for cheaper. Ask my wife.

Mexican Coke

Mexican Coke. That title will probably bring in a lot of traffic for all the wrong reasons. But I'm writing about Coca-Cola products bottled in Mexico.

I bought one the other day at a locally operated family taco stand. There really is a difference, besides the fact that the bottle has "NO RETOURNABLE, REFRESCO CONT. NET. 355ml "printed on the side. The main difference is Mexican Coke is made with cane sugar. No corn syrup is used, unlike in the U.S. and most other countries. Corn syrup has been the primary sweetener for soft drinks since the mid-1970's. It was cheaper than sugar, so the industry switched. Apparently, the average consumer never noticed.

Mexican Coke is old school soda pop. Cane sugar just plain makes the beverage taste different. There's a vague spiciness to the flavor, with the smallest hint of cinnamon. A swig of Mexican coke also has a caramel candy finish. A friend told me it tastes like Mexico. I haven't been there, so I can neither confirm nor deny her claim. But if "It tastes like Mexico" shows up as a catchphrase in Coke advertising, remember you heard it here first. And also remember, Coca-Cola owes my friend some royalties. Also, I think there's a little less carbonation. In fact, I find that by the time I get to the bottom of the bottle, a lot of the carbonation has already disappeared. The last couple sips being less bubbly seems to highlight the caramel flavor .

I wish I could say that it tastes just the way I remember Coke tasting in the 1970's. But I've drank a lot of cola since then, and I have no clear recollection of how Coke tasted when I was a kid. But I do guarantee a surprising difference if you compare a Mexican Coke with a locally bottled Coke from your favorite convenience store.

Besides the flavor, there are some aesthetic differences when drinking a Coke bottled in Mexico. First, there's the bottle. I prefer a green glass bottle to the common plastic bottles with paper labels. That preference is probably driven by nostalgia, but so be it. A Mexican Coke comes in a tall green glass bottle. Glass feels especially cold in your hand. When you take a drink , the bottle will feel colder against your lips. I think that makes it a little more refreshing.

Now, there are some possible drawbacks. First, the lid doesn't twist off, you'll need a bottle opener. But I consider that yet another aesthetic treat. Second , you'll pay about $1.95 for 12 fluid ounces (355 ml), which is often the going rate for 2 liters in the plastic bottle. Sure, you're paying more, and getting less beverage. But I hope I've convinced you you're getting other worthwhile extras instead. So take my advice and buy yourself a Mexican Coke.

If you want something done right...

Last night, my wife was craving burritos. We were feeling lazy, and more importantly, we are broke. The logical answer was homemade burritos. I'm a decent cook, no problem. I can make a good filling for burritos, but the exterior is problematic. We had no tortillas in the house. Like I said, we were feeling lazy and we're broke. What to do? What to do?


My wife says, "Why not make the tortillas?" She whips out a cookbook, and there is an authentic recipe. It seemed easy enough. Long story made short, it didn't go well. I couldn't get them thin enough. So, the thin (but not thin enough) ones were like saltine crackers that can break your teeth. Grandpa used to call it hardtack. The thicker ones were like raw dough with a tooth-breaking saltine crust.


I used to work the breakfast shift for a large fast-food chain. I worked with a little old lady named Maureen. Her only job was to come in from 5-7 a.m. to make the buttermilk biscuits. Trust me, most biscuits at most fast-food chains are mediocre, but edible. Hers were amazing. They were thick and dense, yet light and airy at the same time. They hovered in the rare place that is not soggy, not greasy, and not dry. A lot of people came in for Maureen's biscuits, including little old ladies who also made good biscuits. But everyone knew Maureen's were better. I'd tell you where to get them, but Maureen is most likely long gone. I know that particular locale ( just a link in the chain) is definitely long gone, because some lady in the drive-thru saw an employee whizzing in the orange drink. But the biscuits were good.


Here's the moral of the story. If you know a restaurant can make a food item better than you can, maybe you should just let them. It cuts both ways, though. If you know you can make something better (and possibly cheaper) at home, by all means , do it.