How would overcooked Stravinsky sound to our ears?

That should get some interesting responses and shed light on the topic for people who have never visited Upper Houndistan.

I can’t believe I’ll never eat that sandwich again. Every time I went in they would yell at me: “Very Few Peppers!” Which was actually my (dearly departed) Dad’s order. An order they hadn’t been given in ten years, they remember it, they even associate it with the customer’s daughter who is, of course, also ten years older.

Gawd. I think I’m actually gonna cry! Of course, I had to go be in proximity to a cheesesteak later that same day, somehow, coincidentally, my husband was hungry and I thought, I need to buy him a cheesesteak, and so there I was at Andrea’s House of Pizza, and I felt so weirdly thankful getting the little narrow paper bag with the sub in it I went home and wrote Reducing Human Misery, One Cheesesteak at a Time on the Watertown metroblog I run.

To be honest, the cheesesteak is not anywhere near as good as Lentine’s. But Andrea’s gives me a good feeling. There’s a little television on top of the soda case. Sitting down to watch it, I’ve left the 100 channel click this link universe of amazingly customized but totally solitary Daily Me; I’ve traveled to a place where you can’t change the channel and you all watch together. (This world is under attack by guerilla forces bearing TV-B-Gone keychain remotes) I don’t think I could live there. But visiting there is sublime. We are mostly all strangers but we are all eating pizza, and we are all watching basketball. We have citizenship in this land for just as long as it takes to get from the point to the rind of the crust and then, poof, the whole thing disappears through the little swinging door on top of the trash bin.

Ten points for anyone who remembers what was special about the light fixtures.

What I want to know what do you do when you just can’t find that place that you know exists. For example: I once found myself in Santa Barbara one morning, driving around looking for a “good old” American breakfast. After I while I realized that Santa Barbara has no middle class therefore no diner or equal. I found myself stopping “regular” looking people asking ” where is the Jim’s, Jonnie’s, or Jack’s diner?” Everyone kept saying “oh there’s a Denny’s over there or an IHOP down there” NO!!! Not Denny’s Not IHOP, I want real food. I then spotted some kids selling lemonade, this is my chance, their parents sure will know the spot I’m looking for… “Well you turn left down there and you will see Denny’s….” ARGHHHH…..Sometimes you just can’t get all the luck…..

As for some of my secret spots… Be forewarned I find that some of the best food is found in Neighborhoods that you may have to look over your shoulder a lot, and I would not suggest going to after dark if you are fair skinned. (SF Bayarea)

Best Chinese: The little Palace, across from SJSU, get the Mongolian Beef.

Best Fried chicken: Esters across from the main Post Office in West Oakland

Best BBQ: Dugs on San Pablo, at the Emeryville/Oakland border.

Best Burger: The 2 Jakes, across from the projects at Hunters Point (great place to goto before a 9er Game)

there’s a short list, mind not fully on this early in the morning…

Oh, well…

Nobody’s perfect.

Nice show, ROS gang. A welcome break from the emotionally exhausting intensity of last week’s ‘menu’.

Wow.

Now I want to upgrade my utilitarian, rural diet.

(I miss the city.)

My favorite cuisine?

Not Greek (although it’s my second or third)

Not French (although it’s so, so fine)

Not Italian (although it’s the closest to ‘soulful’ that Europe can offer)

Not Thai (although it’s second or third, depending on my mood)

The favorite?

Ethiopian.

Nothing’s better.

Try it!

Re: Frozen Pudding. Howard Johnson’s used to have it. My favorite too!