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Hats off to you, HungryChris. And aren't the Irish capable of such a grand gesture when they've been drinkin?

Flipside of that, of course, is: And aren't the Irish capable of astonishing ugliness when they've been drinkin?

Both sides equally true, that, stereotype or no.

Sean

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  • 4 weeks later...

Thai food... yes thai food in Buenos Aires after 3 weeks in the peruvian/bolivian low jungle. it was quite a unique situation.

It was december of 2001 and we were dining the day after the currency collapse; we had just learned that in our 3 weeks in the jungle Argentina had gone through more presidents than i have fingers (and toes). Now, we had learned earlier in the trip that dining in argentina is roughly equivelant to dining with my grandparents in Iowa: meat and potatoes, no spice, no pizzazz, no nothing. You have to ask the waitress for pepper. no, not hot pepper flakes, black pepper. Anyway, we got back to Buenos Aires dirty, smelly and roughshod enough to garner a full search of our backpacks @ the airport. We showered, shaved and wandered about looking for a chinese restaurant that was suggested by our hotel manager, apparently it was run by family. we never found it, but we did find a very chic thai restaurant perched on top of what seemed like a hopping night club. it was deserted. the whole city of millions was deserted. i have never felt so alone in a city like i did that night. The restaurant doors were locked. This was another development since we had left-- restaurants, shops and even supermarkets were locking their doors during business hours, afraid of looting and theft. A very cute waitress charged down the stairs for the door in heels so tall she seemed balanced on the stilleto and the bottom of her big toe.

The restaurant was chic. very chic. Decorated by the Hilton twins chic. the only reason-we-could-afford-this-restaurant-because-of-the-collapse-of-the-argentine-currency-that-morning chic. Vongerichten-66-in-spanish chic. The joint was made from a converted apartment; each table was in a different room so my only sense of the presence of other diners was through sound. it was silent.

We sat down, ordered some Quilmes and took a peek at the menu and wine list. Quilmes is Argentine for piss-water. The Argentines, proud of the european heritage (they killed all the natives back in 1836), are so hell-bent on being french that they make sure their wine is great and the beer sucks. The wine list was longer than i expected and more varied, the place had obviously escaped the Mendoza Mafia that runs the fermented grape juice racket there. by the time i ordered, i was drunk.

okay, i have to qualify that. there isn't much safe food in the jungle, and i had dropped about 20 lbs in three weeks. but still, one 32 of Quilmes had me spinning.

Now, i am pretty darn sure that Argentina is not a immigration mecca for the Thai people, but i swear to you, they must of had a whole team of grandmas running that kitchen. In an country afraid of spice, they had me sweating like a navajo sweat lodge. Their curries were perfect. I was shocked at the quality of ingredients in such a cash-strapped country. I was eating ambrosia... and the attentive-flirty service from the supermodel waitress didn't hurt.

I have never gotten so toasted so quickly. Not even at 13 when i finishing glasses at my parents dinner parties. Not even after my first trip to Jalisco.

sorry for the rant... i hope you liked it.

"The Internet is just a world passing around notes in a classroom."

---John Stewart

my blog

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Or a Char-Anything from Weiner Circle! Yummmm - I miss Chicago! Also, the chili omelet with old english cheddar from Lou Mitchell's was pretty good too. I think the Clark/North Ave. location is open 24 hours on the weekends.

One time when I was visiting some friends in NYC, after a night of clubbing, we went to a Puerto Rican/Chinese restaurant. I have no idea where it was, but the tostones tasted great with my kung pow chicken!

Of course, I'm a sucker for the Chicken Rings at White Castle! Unnaturally formed chicken meat that you can wear on your pinky while dipping it in mustard sauce just tastes great after too many cocktails.

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Hey, how about what the best meal you've eaten while drunk? two of mine would definitely be cooked by friend Brock, deployed in the Middle East.

1.

Chicken-Fried Venison Steak- Freshly shot deer, dipped in egg and batter with spices and friend in butter, along with french fries (actually cut from potatos) and deep fried in oil that had never been changed.

Rabbit, also fried, with fried morels

let's just say i lived in a rural area in high school

oh, and yuengling lager and marlboro reds to finish it

chicken fried deer

Did he chicken fry the WHOLE thing? Ye gads! Must've been one hell of a bender!

Sharon A. Peters

aka 'Theabroma'

Sharon Peters aka "theabroma"

The lunatics have overtaken the asylum

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best drunken meal? sausage + mash whilst watching The Matrix last Friday. The Electric Cinema on Portobello Road is without question the world's finest cinema. It has a bar, and the brilliantly named 'Tub Tarts', who come round like cigarette girls with a tray, except they are selling sausage + mash or spring rolls or chicken wings, etc, in tubs the size of a Ben + Jerrys pot with little wooden forks in the lid. So we got there at 9.30pm, having been in the pub beforehand (traditional Friday night post-work activity) and snuggled into the deep leather armchairs with our feet on the leather footstools and drank more wine/beer and noshed on chilli crackers followed by sausage + mash WHILST WATCHING THE FILM, do I need even to explain how heavenly this was. A bottle of house white made even Matrix Three good. and the sausage and mash was delicious.

Fi Kirkpatrick

tofu fi fie pho fum

"Your avatar shoes look like Marge Simpson's hair." - therese

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hey! we've got a cinema like that here, in Atlanta - it's called the Buckhead and Backlot, and it's a restaurant with individual bucket seats, and a full if limited menu, plus beer and wine.

of course we have no tub tarts, but my server the last time was in the midst of trans-gendering.

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  • 2 weeks later...

If you're from Central NJ, like I am, it's a toss up between:

Exit 12 on the NJ TPK's "Burger Express", where a greaZZy, deep fried chicken breast sand w/mayo, a Mountain Dew, and cheese on the free fies (crinke cut that is) will put you into a guranteed oily coma

-or-

A Fat Cat from the Grease Trucks at Rutgers. Nothing's better after a night of binge drinking than 1/2 an Italian roll stuffed with 2 cheesburgers, fries, lettuce, ketchup and mayo. Also, who doesn't love the random middle eastern man who runs the truck asking you (in your best Turkish/American accent) "Hey buddy. Where you been? How's class?"

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Chicken-fried Steak with Mashed Potatoes at Lori's Diner in SF.

More than once I've ordered this late at night after a memorable (or not rememberable :laugh:) evening. Must have grease and carbs!

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A Fat Cat from the Grease Trucks at Rutgers. Nothing's better after a night of binge drinking than 1/2 an Italian roll stuffed with 2 cheesburgers, fries, lettuce, ketchup and mayo. Also, who doesn't love the random middle eastern man who runs the truck asking you (in your best Turkish/American accent) "Hey buddy. Where you been? How's class?"

omg - i've actually heard of these grease trucks.

and the fat cats!

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I was on a survey crew for the pipeline in Saskatchewan in the '70's. We would head for the bars at dusk--whatever the local economy could support. I still remember the bar in a three elevator town on the Trans-Canada Highway where we would down 4 plus martini's (usual fare was beer, but this place had the best martinis on the line) in order to be properly lubricated for the burger course.

The burgs came heaped with fried onions in a always greasy bun, added relish etc. A real messy, greasy, gooey experience I remember to this day.

(I'm sure they wouldn't have been at ll appetizing while in a sober state).

They were so good in soaking up the martinis that I was able to walk the line for the Mounties later without a single mis-step. They didn't have breathalizers then, thank God :rolleyes:

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While attending Boston College, there was a street cart parked outside the campus after midnight till realllll late. The name was Chi-Chi's and he made a great Sausage peppers and onions sandwich at 3 in the morning. There was also this tiny burger joint in Harvard Square called Tasty's(not sure if that was the real name though). After leaving the Crimson(a harvard bar we'd go to to antagonize Ivy Leaguers ;) we'd stop there for some cheap, greasy burgers. I never entered that place before 1 in the morning and that's probably a good thing. :raz:

Yield to Temptation, It may never come your way again.

 --Lazarus Long

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I love Lazo's and Arturo's (whichever one is less crowded) at Western and Armitage in Chicago.

Have I said this yet?

The carnitas burrito with avocado and sour cream and salsa and rice and beans! Hot damn!

And they have tabletop Pac Man.

I'm going there on my way home from school tonight. But I won't be drunk. :sad:

Noise is music. All else is food.

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a big bowl of yook gae jiang at hodori at the corner of olympic and vermont in los angeles. or anywhere else for that matter that makes a good yook gae jiang. nothing like a big steaming bowl of battery acid and chilli oil with glass noodles, strips of beef and mushrooms floating in it to take the edge of the oncoming hangover.

once you get the hangover the thing to do is a bowl of beef bone soup.

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If you're from Central NJ, like I am, it's a toss up between:

Exit 12 on the NJ TPK's "Burger Express", where a greaZZy, deep fried chicken breast sand w/mayo, a Mountain Dew, and cheese on the free fies (crinke cut that is) will put you into a guranteed oily coma

-or-

A Fat Cat from the Grease Trucks at Rutgers. Nothing's better after a night of binge drinking than 1/2 an Italian roll stuffed with 2 cheesburgers, fries, lettuce, ketchup and mayo. Also, who doesn't love the random middle eastern man who runs the truck asking you (in your best Turkish/American accent) "Hey buddy. Where you been? How's class?"

When I was at RU, I was partial to the cali Cheeseburger from Mr. C's nad, if we could find someone sober enough to drive, the White Rose, AKA "The System" in Highland Park.

John

"I can't believe a roasted dead animal could look so appealing."--my 10 year old upon seeing Peking Duck for the first time.

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After a series of pre-dinner drinks--included a surprising number of cans of Guinness, Grasshopper and Traditional--I served red wine-braised beef short ribs and a garlic mash, with a side of bacon-wrapped green bean bundles (I think). Accompanying dinner was a series of wines--nothing pricey, but all delicious. In the end, I think each diner was responsible for at least two bottles. After dinner entertainment included wrestling--my friend jumped me when I accidentally grabbed his Guinness--and Trivial Pursuit.

Other memorable nights include: Robbie Burns' Supper at the in-laws (cooked the haggis, which was excellent. Cock-a-leekie, trifle and WAY too much scotch and beer and wine resulted in crazy highland dancing with a Queen's Court Judge, who was equally, um, charming) and a friend's Saskatchewan wedding (drinks before dinner, drinks with dinner, drinks after dinner, getting drinks before the bar closed and then across the highway to Denny's for a little late night nosh. Oh, and the entire wedding party--aside from the maid of honour, who was already passed out--came with for plastic cheese and pan scramblers.)

Other less memorable nights include: any time I've been tempted to have a pizza sandwich (two slices of pizza, placed topping sides together, eaten at once) or a donair (no cheese, extra sauce) post-drinking.

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A historic bar-caffe in Alba (can't remember the name). We planned just an aperitivo, but they had such beautiful bar snacks (fresh grissini wrapped in prosciutoo, mammoth chunks of parmesan regg, lightly marinated artichoke hearts, etc.), and such a huge selection proseccos and champagnes and reds and whites by the glass ---- and it was Sunday night and we hadn't passed a single restaurant that was open --- that we stayed and stayed, and ate and drank, and drank. Crowds of Italian daytrippers ebbed into the bar, had a single drink and a few nibbles (the grissini always disappeared in less than a minute after they were put out), and left, and we stayed and drank and drank and ate. 3 1/2 hours on our feet.

When we left our bar bill was so high the cashier actually gave us a discount. The bartenders high-fived us as we left.

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