Sunday, February 24, 2008

happy barfday to us.

Gluttons for Gluttony: A True Story

lauren: our birthdays are february 8 & 9, which gave us an entire weekend to gorging ourselves on our favorite foods, ever. we discussed for weeks what we wanted to eat on our special days, obsessing over every detail, assuring and reassuring we wouldn't eat those foods until then so they were that much better. finally, i decided my theme would be "burgers and beards," but max's birthday was first, so he took to the internet and we met in mission for burritos at papalote.

max: is that true? is that really what happened? i wouldnt know, having gone into a blackout food coma the moment feb 8th food touched my lips. see, i started out that day with a back pack full of piss and spit- specimens, see?- for a research study. after a pint blood draw and a 12 hour fast, you may know, i will tell you, daddy was hungry. at the hospital, they gave me veg lasagna and broccoli (not pictured). it was my choice from a menu. it was free, no, they paid me for it. i coulda got more but i didnt want to fill up before the 2 day food orgy i was about to embark on. im sensible like that. ahem- like dat

yeah so what i defer to a burritto blog? doh kay. papalote in the mission, short walk from my UCSF doctor office, where i meet lauren. what a vision! she appears carrying two chicken sandwiches, cookies, lemon squares from bake sale bettys. my legs shake, my kneees quiver, my pants become tight, my mouth gets sandpaper dry. confusion reigns. gorge chicken sandwiches here in the heart of burrittoville, usa, or forsake the crushing warmth of baked goods for a mexican food? uh, we just go to papalote. not that it was easy. but
so i got a chicken burrito. im kinda on a white meat burrito kick, ive been betrayed by the attendance of gristle in my bites too many times, not at paplote, but anyway. i got blackened chick super burrito- truly the balls. tender meat dissolves and perfect, not overwhelming mix of super burrito accoutrement.

lauren: burritos are the least photogenic of all the foods. on the left is max's pollo asado burrito, and the right is my fish burrito, and as you can see, they are snuggling.
i was having trouble deciding what to order, when an angel sent from heaven to stand in line behind me and gush over foodstuffs gushed over the fish. she settled my mind, and i thank her to this day for turning me on to garlic chili lime marinated fillets of just the sweetest little fish you ever did eat.

next, we headed to sutro baths for a picnic comprised of bakesale betty chicken sandwiches and lemon squares i picked up in oakland earlier.
i feel like the only thing that could possibly enhance this sandwich is sea air, and thank you, sutro baths, for that. lemon squares are perfect as always, and thank you, bakesale betty, for that.

max: ok, so to sutro for outdoor seaside picnic. but not romantic, just gluttonous. oh, also, i was pretty full from my two previous meals but so what? we feast on the still warm bakesale betty sandwiches. delicious parsley/ green pepper coleslaw, oil and vinegar heavy, no mayo or other condiments. clean, busy taste, but quite uncrowded. in between bites lauren curese me savagley. 'we could be eating these for free, swine!!' she seethes. see, folks, i got hired at this reputable but chaotic establishment well into being broke after our move here. i worked one shift then went no call, no show for the second. i got The FEAR, employment sweats, fuck, man. anyway, i have not the maturity of my now 26yrs(!) and havent set foot in there since. god, those lemon squares! out of sight. always they give free shortbread cookies too. yes. wonderful.

lauren: my birthday was the next day, and i have a very special place in my soul for mcdonald's breakfast, so we trudged the blocks up telegraph before 10.30 struck us breakfast-less, and placed our order.

i couldn't decide, so i opted to add on pancakes. further, i covered every single crumb of my meal in syrup, and this is the distinct pleasure of being a grown ass newly 23 year old woman.

max: right. next, i got a little messed up that night. this is important, dear reader, because it segues nicely into breakfast the next day. my hangover was immense and i struggled to my feet to walk a total of three blocks to mcdonalds(!). i embarked on another day of self indulgent cramming of my foodhole with an egg mcmuffin and a sausage mcmuffin. my head was still spinning, but there must have been some sort of moment of clarity, for in one swift, sudden movement, i swiped laurens extra pat of butter lying motionless and unused on the sidelines, to place it deftly in my s mc m. fuck, dude, it was the shit.

lauren: but, as you know, the theme for the day was 'burgers and beards.' we hopped on the bart to head back to the mission for zeitgeist. this was one of the first places we went when we moved to the bay area, and by god, it is the best burger i have ever had.

delicious, juicy niman-ranch house smoked beef with that ever so scrumptious, ever so elusive salty crust that me and my george foreman struggle to recreate, thick cheddar lazily oozing and melting off the sides into crisp, almost burnt but just right hash browns. mama, i'm coming home.

max: a bart ride that almost made me vomit (why? beats me) and we arrive at zeitgeist for burgering. they use niman ranch organic beef its like a 6oz patty. ok. owen used to work there so i know now. see imminent myspace picture. cooked perfect and did you know you can smoke pot on that back patio? i didnt, smoke, i mean, but i did know. now you know. the requisite starch side is home fries, potato clumps and you have to ask for cheese.

laurenonto the beards. cream puffs have always been my favorite birthday treat, always, so when asked for my birthday dessert, it was clearly destined to be beard papa, a softball sized japanese cream puff joint in a mall downtown.

max: trek down market to see the papa. BEARD PAPA THAT IS!!!!!!!!!!111!!!. those japanese export puff pastry in mall food court. uh, doi. its pretty darn good. vanilla cream is almost of a sandy granule quality good, and i dont really have a sweet tooth.

max: whoop, take the trolley car the right way, to see the sea lions, but we go the wrong way and lurch with the oldest car in the fleet all through its route, my stomach bouncing, also upset (fat joke[?-ed]). at this point, i lust for sea food. im not hungry, i dont really want to eat, i feel sick, but i lust for sea food. (this yearning will stay with me for weeks until finally sated, greasily, at catch isle, in yuk mall food court. ) i guess i just remembered it.

max: we wander aimlessly through touristy pier 39 area and little italy, chinatown, back downtown, fruitlessly waiting till we am hungry again. but for what? well...punk, i guess. delay is in town so we meander to thrillhouse. somehow, i manage to slug a 40 of budweiser, but i would have confused austin and ryan anyway, how do you tell who is which? we leave the show and i convince lauren to stop at papalote before we get onto the bart. pork chile verde super burrito, please. yes. gosh darn, does this place score highly on all fronts. so tender, marinated pig meat, perfect black bean (whole, not refried)/rice ratio. good lord! my fave right now

lauren: and like that, our birthday food adventure was over and all we got were these lousy t-shirts