Meat for Everyone!

I figured it out. I solved the global food crisis, and it's a lot better tasting idea than my Wendy's double the meat scheme. For those of you who didn't get the pleasure of hearing that ridiculous idea, it went something like this:

Wendy's used to let you double the amount of meat on your hamburger for a dollar. If you bought a classic triple and doubled it you would have 6 patties. But they didn't specify how many times you were allowed to double it. So another dollar, 12 patties. Another buck, 24. Thirty five dollars later, you were buying everyone in the world a beef patty. Granted, distributing them would be a bit of a challenge, but I just bought you a hamburger, you can come to me.

The problem with that idea, of course, is that not everyone likes Wendy's. I hear most Bolivians favor McDonald's and a majority of Tanzanians are Carl's Junior people. Are you serious Tanzania? Carl's Junior?!?

I then focused on buffets... There must be a way for me to sneak the world through an all you can eat buffet. A funny fake nose and glasses is good enough to get past the door lady, so we could rotate through like that, but I'm pretty sure when the same exact guy asks for his 47 thousandth slice of honey baked ham that the ham guy is going to realize something is up. You don't want to mess with a ham guy, trust me...

So then I stumbled upon a new phenomenon in eating: the Brazilian steakhouse. The one I visited was Brazzaz in Chicago, but I guess they're popping up all over the place. The set up goes something like this: you pay a ton of money to sit at a table and have different varieties of meat brought to you for your sampling delight. Filet, chicken wings, sausages, parmesan pork, spare ribs... Any meat your little heart desires, brought to you hot on a huge skewer and served by a man wearing funny pants.

The beauty of this is that there are literally dozens of these funny pantsed men running around with their big meat sticks, so a funny nose and glasses would have to work! And as long as we can keep someone overbearing and annoying at the table who also wants to help poor people -- I'm looking at you, Bono -- we can have someone yell and make a scene if they ever question the disguise, which is the perfect way to get a snooty restaurant to leave you alone. It worked for Ferris Bueller, it will work for us.

There's even a salad bar for those of you who don't like to eat meat. And if you don't like to eat the healthy vegetables or fruits, they have grilled pineapple, mashed potatoes, and fried bananas as well. Did you hear me, fat people? They have fried fruit! Have you ever, in your wildest food dreams, imagined a better way to tell Jenny Craig to fuck off?!?

In conclusion, the food is absolutely delicious, we have funny noses and Bono to get everyone in, and it's all you can eat. This plan is fool proof, so much better than the Wendy's plan. Now, the only problem we have is convincing those feisty Tanzanians that this option will be better than a Carl's Junior's Double Western Cheeseburger...

Charlie Eats Goes On Tour

So apparently the culinary gods smiled upon me and delivered my blog into the hands of the must influential restaurant reviewer ever, that Zagat asshole, and he said I must meet him in Chicago for a meal to discuss future collaborations.

Okay, nothing about that is true, but I am in Chicago and I've eaten some pretty damn good food. Here's a quick breakdown of a couple of the best meals I've had so far, and a little preview of what's to come.

Being raised in this fair city, I have my favorites and the absolute only thing I must have when I come here is Lou Malnati's Pizza. It's Chicago style pizza as it is supposed to be made: to much crust, too much sauce, too much cheese, too much meat. It's a veritable heart attack on a plate, and it's too good to put into words. If you only do one thing while you're here, do not make it a Cubs game or the Sears tower or even checking into your hotel, make it a stop at Lou's. I cannot say this enough. Rebel sects of Hungry Islamic Chicagoans pray towards the original Lou's restaurant 5 times a day. It's that good.

Enough about my religious beliefs, let's get back to the food. A few days ago I had the privilege of joining some incredibly talented women, Becca Scampini and Jenn Pecorella from our Chicago office, for a lunch that was borderline perfect. The setting for this meal was Bella Bacino's on Wacker Drive. There's a nice outdoor patio, you're right along to river and the weather was fantastic (which means there won't be another nice day for 7 years here in Chicago).

We've already covered my affinity for platters here, and the one at Bella Bacino's does not disappoint-- the name of the restaurant actual means "Beautiful Platter of Assorted Meats" (don't look that up, I'm right, I assure you; I can say that exact phrase in over 106 languages). There were a variety of Italian sausages and cheeses, but the best by far were the little seasoned balls of mozzarella. Put those balls in your mouth and you will be satisfied. It's as if the balls explode with goodness the second they hit your tongue. Honestly, I could gobble those balls all day. I could've used a bit more variety in the bread options, there was only a few pieces of little toast, but I couldn't possibly have been disappointed after all the joy I got out of their balls.

The platter was fairly substantial, but after all that talk about balls I wanted to reassert my manhood so I ordered a salad. A caprese salad to be exact, and it was pretty delicious. I have to give it to the Italians, they found something that worked and they stick with it.

While we were there, we overheard some very Italian chefs talking about their recent culinery creations; this is what they said:

Mario: Heya Tony, I tink dat dis combo of tomatoes, cheese, and bread is ah pretty good-ah.
Tony: Heya Mario, I tink yous is right.
Mario: Look at me, I made-ah a pizza with it!
Tony: Look at me, I made-ah a spaghetti with it!
Mario: Look at me, I made-ah some bruschetta with it!
Joey: Heya guys, look at me! I made-ah a salad with just cheese-ah and tomatoes!
Mario: Add-ah some bread-ah!
Tony: Hey!
Mario: Hey!
Joey: Hey!

Seriously, that happened. You have to hand it to the Italians though, they found 3 things that they liked and combined them in every way possible. Mario, Tony, and Joey would be proud of Bella Bacino's. Everything was delicious, a perfect light lunch. Nice job guys. Hey!

Coming tomorrow: I visit Brazzaz, an all you can eat Brazilian Steakhouse. I'm hoping my fingers aren't too fat to type tomorrow, but you never know.

I Love Tito's Tacos, You Love Tito's Too...

Before we get any further, crank up the volume on your computer and go to this website:

http://www.titostacos.com/

Never in the history of man has a song captured the essence of something as well as the Tito's Tacos theme song captures the joy that is Tito's. Mozart? He can suck it, those flimsy string melodies in "A Little Nightmusic" have nothing on the solid percussive backbone of a homeless man playing on a steel can. Mariah? The floozy couldn't hold the dirty, salsa stained lyrics of the Tito's song while that creepy lady in the picture holding the taco belts out her enchanting ode to tacos. In future years untold numbers of people are going to worship the Tito's song and that creepy lady, just like they worship the Wild Stallions in "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure."

As for the Taco's, untold numbers of Angelenos worship them now. Our hosts at The Syndicate in Santa Monica, an absolutely stellar design, telecine, and VFX house located just blocks from the ocean, were gracious enough to make the trip out to Tito's (it's a bit of a hike, on Washington under the 405), and I would like to think we're all better for it.

The tacos are the star of the show. They are served two ways: with and without cheese. What they lack in variety they make up for by being mind blowingly delicious. I swear they must be laced with Ecstasy, because by outward appearances they look like a little fresher version of a Jack in the Box taco, and then all of a sudden out of nowhere BAM-- deliciousness unlike anything that has or ever will be produced by a Jack in the Box.

Additionally, all tacos are served with a heaping portion of chips and salsa, which is where things get complicated. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT use these chips and salsa like standard chips and salsa. These are not snacks, these are necessary components to your full Tito's experience. This is the peanut butter for your jelly. The Captain for your Tennille. Tito's Tacos are meant to be eaten a bite at a time with a medium sized chip and as much salsa as possible thrown on top. You can venture into other taco eating combinations if you want, but go do it at some bush league taco place; don't take your C level taco eating to Tito's. They'll laugh at you. If you so desire, you can also include the incredibly thin yet still somehow delicious guacamole on your salsa train, but don't forget the salsa. You're including the guac, not replacing the salsa.

Tacos are not the only thing on the menu however. It pains me to say, as a professed Tito's purist, that I ventured into burrito land this past time. While it was delicious, I cannot in good conscience recommend a burrito. It took up valuable taco space, and that's unacceptable.

As you know very well by now, there is no reason to pass on a Tito's Taco, because only thing better than a Tito's Taco, is two.

Charlie Eats has a night on the town

Hold on to your hats folks, because things are getting a little crazy for the blog: for the first time in history, Charlie Eats made it's way out of some sort of production facility and into an actual restaurant. It was a great moment for all of us, probably the second most important escape of all time-- although I think in a few years we could look back and say this was actually more important than Moses leading the Jews out of Egypt. Only time will tell...

Aiding in my great escape was Ms. Erika Sheldon, the newest member of Moo Management. The lovely Ms. Sheldon suggested we make a trip to Bodega Bar in Santa Monica, and just like that I was out of a dark editing room and into the light of day, only to return to another dimly lit room in a matter of minutes.

Bodega Bar itself is discreetly tucked away near the corner of Broadway and Lincoln, a nondescript building that could, by appearance, be anything from an adult book store to a Scientology testing center. I was actually a little disappointed when I walked in and found it was a wine bar, because I haven't bought any adult literature or crazy religious books about aliens in a while and I thought I might be able to kill two birds with one stone. Not the case, however.

Walking into the bar, there are a few long high bar tables and some stools, all of which are splashed in a deep red color as light pours in through a floor to ceiling red tinted window. As the sun goes down the lights in the bar tend to neutralize the overall redness, which is good because after downing a bottle of wine and staring at everything with a red tint for an hour I started to believe I was actually the terminator, culminating in this exchange with the waitress:

Waitress: How is everything?
Me: COME WITH ME IF YOU WANT TO LIVE!

After reassuring her that I came back to save the humans this time, the waitress agreed to let me continue drinking. We tried two different reds that were both delicious; an Argentine Malbec and an Australian Shiraz. I'm not going to bore you with what I thought it tasted like, because I have no clue what it tasted like other than wine. Very delicious wine. And it briefly turned me into a robot, so apparently there was booze in it.

The food was equally satisfying. There are a wide array of appetizer choices available, and not a one will disappoint (I would say the pairing was fantastic, but I already feel like a d-bag for writing a blog and now I'm writing a blog post about going to a wine bar so lay off me, my street cred is at an all time low right now). Everything was a winner according to our group, especially the hummus and the bruschetta and olive tapenade. The pizzas were delicious as well, and if you have any other questions about the menu I'm sure one of the half dozen sweet dudes wearing fedoras over in the corner could answer your question. That's right, there were bigger tools there than the guy who writes this blog. I'm sure when they see this (because all fedora wearers scour blogspot to see if anyone wrote about them or other fedora related issues) there will be a scathing critique of my apparel choices for the evening on the ever popular "Manscaping Today" blog.

I kid about the people of course (don't come after me with those shears, Lance!) The crowd and general atmosphere was mellow, and they played Flight of the Conchords and similarly stellar music just loud enough to drown out any talk of ab workouts or hair gel. The deals for happy hour are supposedly very good, although I have my beautiful and talented host Erika to thank for my lack of knowledge regarding pricing.

All in all, it was a fantastic evening: great wine, great food. My first venture into the real world was a success, and now if you'll excuse me I need to go find John Connor.

Buddha's Belly

Would you look at that? I didn't even have to come up with my own blog post name that's vaguely offensive to a minority because the restaurant did it for me! Woooooo!

Today's lunch, as you've noticed, was from Buddha's Belly which is, of course, an Indian food restaurant... Or a Japanese place? But with vaguely Thai influences as well? I don't know. It was a classic American thing to do: take a bunch of cuisines and cultures that are distinct and wonderful in their own right, then mash them all up and claim it's better. I'm not saying it was bad; it was in fact very good. What I am saying is I'm against America. Wait that came out wrong, what I mean is when shit like this happens (you know, throwing a blanket term over an entire continent of cultures, like "Asian") I just don't feel proud to be an American. Oh fuck, Cindy McCain just went on CNN to tell everyone that she has always been proud to be an American, that she loves Buddha Belly, and that they should all read her own, very American blog: "Cindy Eats."

Anyway, back to the food... I had Japanese Style Baked Alaskan Black Cod, which was absolutely fantastic. The plating was wonderful (thank you Kristin, the lovely and talented lady who always sets out our food at Final Cut) but the real accomplishment of the meal was the mixture of flavors. They give you like 5 different things, and if you just mix them all together its absolutely fantastic. Wonderful variety. I felt like I was back in 7th grade and had just discovered I could Ask Jeeves to find pictures of boobs: "Wait... All these are for me?!? Thank you Jeeves, thank you!"

I do question the preparation of the edamame however. Now, you can blame me for ordering edamame for take out, which is valid. It's like a really yappy dog or your mother-in-law, it doesn't travel well. I however, blame the restaurant for not salting the stuff beforehand. If you don't want the salt and it's there, you don't have to awkwardly suck the outside of the pods. However, if you do want the salt and it isn't there, you're screwed. Now, don't tell me I could salt it myself, because that's crap. You and I both know the salt on the edamame at sushi places is some special, extra delicious salt. Despite what you might have heard or seen on the Internet, I don't suck the salt off of anything else. Edamame is it. I want the special salt. I need it. And you, Buddha Belly, deprived me of that.

Despite their salt hording ways and their apparent ideological similarities with Rush Limbaugh, Buddha's Belly's cod was good enough to leave me incredibly satisfied. Order it and you won't be disappointed. Now I've got to run, I hear a helicopter hovering above Final Cut and I'm pretty sure it's Sarah Palin and her prego daughter come to hunt my American hating ass down like all those American hating wolves in Alaska.

Ironing out some problems...

I feel like this has gone pretty well so far; thanks to everyone who's reading, it's been a fun ride. Here are a few changes I'm going to institute just so you know:

1) I'm going to label every blog post with four things: where I was when eating, what kind of business it is, where the food was ordered from, and what type of cuisine it was. That way, if you wanted to make sure Ravenswork had good snacks before going there, you could search "Ravenswork", or you could search "sound" and it would return the Ravenswork post as well. I may be getting a little ahead of myself here, but it seems when Charlie Eats is rivaling google as the most used website in the history of mankind, this feature could be wildly important.

2) I still need a rating system. Come on people, help me out here. Something incredibly random. We need to change the way people talk about food, and it needs to be change they can believe in... A new way to approach evaluating culinary delights... YES WE CAN!

3) I don't have a three, but awesome things always come in 3s (ie The 3 Stooges, The 3 Ninjas, the Axis of Evil... All threes, all badass) so I had to fake one.

Sandwiches are beautiful...

When I was a young lad there was this crazy kids musician my parents used to play for my brothers and me; Fred Penner was his name. Fred's biggest hit was a lovely ditty called "Sandwiches are Beautiful", and if I'm not mistaken that song went something like this:

"Sandwiches are beautiful
Sandwiches are fine
I like sandwiches I eat them all the time
I eat them for my breakfast and I eat them for my lunch
If I had a hundred sandwiches I'd eat them all at once..."

It has now recently come to my attention that Fred is from America's Hat; that's right Fred is Canadian! Regardless, I couldn't agree more with that crazy hockey loving kids song singing weirdo. Sandwiches are a great, compact way to eat a bunch of different things, all in one neat little package. Unless you get a messy sandwich...

Which brings us to yesterday's lunch. Earth, Wind, and Flour serves pasta, pizza, and yes, sandwiches. The pesto pasta we had yesterday with our lunch was fantastic, light and green and delicious, as was the salad, but the real star was the sandwiches so lets get to those.

The Cold Cut Trio: I haven't the slightest clue what the trio entails, but I know one third of it was bologna. Which begs the question: what is bologna? Well, I looked it up, but didn't get farther than the phrase "Bologna sausage is generally made from low quality scraps of meat cuts" before I wanted to puke. Suffice it to say, I whole heartedly enjoyed this sandwich, despite the bologna, and that means it must've been spectacular in all other facets.

Turkey Avocado: Here comes the difficult part to assess. The sandwich as a whole was very good, but the avocado, as it tends to do, was being difficult. Avocado not staying in place, leading to alternating bites off all turkey and all 'cado (that's right I'm from the hood, what of it?). Avocado sliding out the sides, so I was forced to attack it like the new girl on a porn shoot -- "just open your mouth, it'll fit!" It was a messy way to eat a sandwich, to say the least, but the payoff was one last bite off turkey & avocadoey goodness. If you have no shame, definitely worth it.

All in all, this simply reaffirmed my faith in sandwiches, and Canadians. Thanks Fred Penner.

If you want people to treat you well, treat yourself well

So the Buddha appeared to me last night and said, "Hey man, you need to stop eating salami and pretzels and start respecting your body." And I said, "Hey man, why are you wearing a dress and get the hell out of my apartment." I think my slim chances for heaven just got slimmer, but so did my waist because I heeded the old bald guy's words and ate some better food for the day.

Once again, the day was spent in the lovely confines of Final Cut in Santa Monica, where the people are friendly but the dogs aren't (I don't think they like me so much).

Breakfast: a banana and a balance bar. Lots of "B"s. The banana was a standard banana, so it was mildly enjoyable, but like any banana it's a potential disaster. Have you ever bit into a mushy, dark part of a banana? Because a banana is bordering on baby food as it is. And to make it mushier? Disgusting. Risky breakfast food. Early in the morning, kinda groggy, distracted by a dog that doesn't like you and BAM you're eating extra mushy gerber before you know it. As for the balance bar, lets just say it could use some flavor, any flavor.

Lunch: a crab quesadilla and some soup. Might not sound too healthy, but it was ordered from a vaguely vegan and / or organic kitchen, the Interim Cafe, so even if it doesn't sound good for me it probably is by association. Hanging out with vegan cuisine either made my food healthier, or having to put up with uppity vegans annoyed my meal and convinced it that being healthy is not worth being a d-bag. Just to recap, the meal is either healthy or right, so I'm cool with it either way.

Snack time: bell peppers, cherry tomatoes, carrots, and hummus. This is one spot where the hippies got something right. As snacks go, mashed up garbanzo beans are so shockingly delicious it's borderline absurd. The gap between the concept and the actual result for hummus may be the widest one I know, or at least a close second to sushi (Let's wrap this fish in rice and not cook it!)

So a day of healthy eating resulted in this: I'm still kinda hungry, but I've lost 14 pounds and added 4 inches to my vert. Also, by my logic I've still got 4000 calories left in my daily diet, so to the bar I go! We'll see if I still pass on the cured meats after my 17th jack and diet coke (I am watching my weight, after all). Also, It only took 9 margaritas for me to discuss life with the Buddha last night, so by my logic I should get a visit from Jesus AND Harry Carey tonight. I'll let you know what they have to say tomorrow, but I'm hoping for something like this:

The J-Man: Hi, I'm Jesus Christ.
Harry Carey: Jesus Christ?!? That's Tirk Suesegh backwards! Cheers Tirk!

Carribean food with a Vaguely Annoying Name

So my tour of the best island cuisine Santa Monica has to offer continued today, this time with Cha Cha Chicken providing the food and Final Cut providing the hospitality. The Spicy Black Pepper Shrimp proved to be quite delicious, and luckily most of the meals are served with rice and beans, plantains, and some radishy thing because the good folks at Cha Cha neglected to include enough Shrimp to satisfy your average 3 year old's hunger, let alone a grown man.

Four shrimp? Four shrimp are an appropriate portion on an appetizer sampler tray with three other seafood options included. Four shrimp are a very good day for Forest Gump (pre-Hurricane, of course). Four shrimp are a nice snack for a new born baby shark. Four shrimp are not, however, an entire meal for a human being. The day was saved, however, by the myriad snack options provided by our gracious hosts, included the most amazing creation since the good Lord made women out of a rib...

Peanut Butter filled Pretzels.

How do they do it? Little pretzel shells filled with creamy, delicious peanut butter. Is it science? Is it magic? Are there elves slaving away in the basement of Final Cut, stuffing otherwise boring pretzels with magical, delightful peanut butter? I don't know how they do it, but I'm going to treat it like the new found perkiness of a lady wearing a push up bra. I don't know what happened or where these delightful little things came from, but I'm happy they're here and I'll leave it at that.