Sac's Tasty Hot Dogs

Sometimes there comes a time when you have to break out of your food box, throw caution to the wind and take the plunge into the steaming waters of Hot Dogville. Today’s disclaimer is that I don’t really like hot dogs very much, and, to extend the truth just a bit further into the tmi sphere, I often come down with a head cold after eating a hot dog or sausage shaped food item. But one thing I do like is a surprise, particularly when it's a pleasant surprise.

The Process:
Sac’s. I’ve been waiting for S day for weeks now just for the opportunity to write the word Sac over and over. It’s a deliciously nasty word, one that feels puerile on the tongue. Lung is another such word for me, evoking horror, disgust and ultimately a shimmer of delight. Tuna and I tried in vain to enlist some of the other colleagues to venture out of their own taco shells and Popeyes' boxes and order up something from Sac's. No matter, the two of us were on a mission. So, we climbed into my tiny little car and sped off towards the other side of town for a peek at Sac's. Imagine our delight when we arrived and saw a line outside the door and halfway around the smallish building. The line was, in a word or two, representative of the melting pot of America. The vast masses of heterogeneous people were here, in line, just to pick up a dog or two. America's National Food. I was definitely feeling a bit better about this. By the time we made it to the counter to place our order, I was wanting one of everything.

The Chow:
The claim is 100% beef and I believe 'em. Sac's claims tasty and boy, oh boy, are they right. (I can't believe that I'm actually raving about a hot dog, but it really was delicious.) I had the regular, basic dog with relish, ketchup and mustard. Tuna opted for one with cheese. And, he ordered the Spicy Dog. He said it was really good, and I believe him. I also believe the rumor that he found a little piece of something crunchy in it and later in the day had passed a hoof. No matter, the food was great and the service fantastic. I'd go back in a second.

The Wrap:
A dark horse is still a horse and I'm really glad that the hot dogs are 100 % beef.

The Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

Take Out Tacos Jalisco for a Taste Treat on T Day

One of my favorite lunches here in town is the Tacos Jalisco truck on Broadway, just down the street from what used to be First Hospital and across the street from Vallejo High. The lines have significantly diminished since the lunchtime lockdown at both facilities. No longer are you waiting behind Sally Schizophrenic who is hallucinating tiny creatures crawling out of her burrito or the gang of four high school sweeties who are paying for a single burrito with an assortment of dimes, nickles and pennies scrounged together out of their purses and pockets.


The Process:
Who’s in the house? Our own Dr. J is in the house, or I should say back in the house. After something of a sabbatical, our friend and colleague Dr. J has returned from distant lands, bearing…caramels. YUM ! Hula Girl and I ran into him at the truck, confirming our thoughts that he's wanting to make a low key re-entry. The taco truck is hardly low key, however, since it is the the see and be seen place. Dr. J was sighted talking to the affable maitre d, Victor, who is, coincidentally, a local artist whose photographs can be seen at Georgina's Cafe, the Vallejo Artist's Guild, or on his own website, alejandrophoto. Anyway, the taco truck is a slam dunk choice that finds ready agreement amongst the kids.

The Chow:
When you’re wanting a fast, inexpensive taco or burrito, this is your go to place. Tacos are served open faced with your choice of meats. Jalisco is an authentic place, so an order of tacos de lengua or cabeza are not out of the question. Oaxacan style grasshopper tacos are not on the menu, c'mon, there's serious state pride going on here. I usually order the vegetarian burrito with the hot sauce and it is consistently good. Filled with some rice, whole beans, lettuce, cheese and some sour cream, it is a veritable meal in a tube. Some folks order the Jinny, a meat filled extravaganza served with a string. Your choice of tortillas includes chili, tomato, spinach, plain, and probably something else which I've forgotten.

The Wrap:
Solid, dependable, consistent burritos and tacos. Top of the charts.

The Rating: 3 out of 5.

R is for Rickshaw

Epi-Curious' Law #1: The quality and taste of a meal is inversely proportional to the weight of the portion served.

Corollary A: If you are given a free sample and it tastes bad, don't actually purchase the bad food based on feelings of guilt or obligation.

Tuna, Hula Girl and I braved the parking lot and the spillover from the Hobo Village to visit The Rickshaw, Oriental Express Dining. 15 years ago I reviewed Rickshaw for a different publication, saying something like "so what if it's a little greasy...It's cheap, close and filling!" Like a hooker down on her luck, the years and the guests have not been kind to Rickshaw. It's still close, filling and relatively cheap, and now more than a little greasy and absolutely inedible.

The Process:

What can I say? Rickshaw is close, really close to the office. It's one of two places within walking distance, the other being a chain pizza place. We don't eat there very often, I'd venture to say the last time I set foot in there was easily four years ago when Doc was just beginning his Atkins diet kick and would order up the half pig of BBQ pork. He swore by the stuff...I swore at it. But now, I'm the guy who can't even fit into his own pants and Doc has dropped a few sizes and looks, frankly, HOT! Hands off, ladies, he's taken.

The Chow:
Greasy, fetid, nasty tasting. At nine bites, Tuna ate more of his meal than anyone else. I had two bites and Hula Girl had five. I probably would have eaten a bit more, but once Hula Girl started in on how the rice smelled and tasted (recall the hooker mentioned earlier and think feet) I just couldn't stomach another bite. Faced with pan after pan of fried items, I thought I'd play it safe and go with the Sweet and Sour Pork. Wrong. Very wrong. I'm definitely off of pork and have no desire to partake of the pig anytime soon. Hula Girl chose the Ginger Chicken which sounds nice and tasty...but wasn't. I wasn't going to put it my mouth after Hula Girl talked all kinds of trash about it. That'd just be dumb. I was over by the office window photographing the food while Hula Girl was tucking into her meal. After a couple of bites of rice, the descriptions started coming fast and furious, and I could taste every horrible flavor...and then some.

The Wrap:
The lowest rating ever should say it all. Three tenths of a point. Blech. I'd rather starve than have to eat there again.

The Rating: .3 out of 5.

Q is for Quiz - NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOs

I have a horrible aversion to chain restaurants. Call me picky, call me a food snob, call me a picky food snob, just don’t call me to dine in one of these soul-less hell holes. Q came up and, in the service of art and fair open mindedness, and under great duress, I consented to dine at Quizno’s, a chain sandwich shop.

The Process:
With dejection, I picked up the phone and placed our order. I made the grave mistake of going onto the Quizno’s website to take a look at the menu. Of course, the one thing that I thought that I could actually eat, the scrambled egg and bacon sandwich, was the one thing they did not serve…Shades of the infamous Fortune Cookie Meal at Pink Dawn detailed a few posts back. No fit this time. I just tried to go with the flow and order something that I might be able to eat. I’m pretty much convinced that Quiznos is serving the poison meat, so one has to be wary.

Poison Meat

OK, OK, I know that the poison meat thing is just in my own head, along with about a million other phobic ideas, but it still makes it really hard to eat weird looking meat based foods. I keep hearing Reagan’s voice repeating that poison meat phrase over and over and over again until I’m nearly ready to drop dead.

The Chow:


The chow is reason one not to visit Quiznos. You’d have to work pretty hard to convince me that I’d need anymore reasons than just the one to forgo another visit. I ordered a bacon and egg sandwich and what came was two pieces of toasted roll with a thin spread of mayo/mustard, about a tablespoonful of chopped boiled egg and a similar about of chopped bacon. I wouldn’t call it a sandwich and I wouldn’t call it lunch. Even Tuna, who usually loves Quiznos, was put off by the sogginess of the beef brisket sandwich. Hula Girl had something with a Hawaiian Island flavor…The Pineapple Poi Sub which was, predictably, gluey, bad tasting and soggy.

The Wrap:
Bread with salt and flavorings does not a sandwich make. The Earl himself is spinning in his grave.

The Rating: 2.0 out of 5.

Pho – oooey !

Anthony Bourdain says “You don’t have to go looking for great food in Vietnam. Great food finds you. It’s everywhere.” Here in V-Town, you have to go looking for it. And today Cougar, Hula Girl and I all went in search of some tasty Vietnamese food, because where we lunch, it sure as hell wasn’t going to find us. Pho #1 is located in a strip mall whose primary anchors are a Long’s Drugs, a Curves, and a couple of defunct storefronts. The mall is definitely part of Vallejo’s burgeoning new “little Asia,” what with there being a Korean “BBQ” joint and Hop Hing’s Chinese Buffet and a couple of electronics stores. For some reason, I have a real fondness for this mall, in particular for the shark-y car salesmen who hang out in the parking lot of the nearby Team Chevrolet dealership. There's just something so cheesy and sleazy about them that it's almost worth the trip alone to watch them in action.


The Process:
Having had a few bad meal in a row, the kids are discouraged. The rumblings have gotten progressively louder regarding the healthfulness of the food project and everyone seems to be fearing the possibility of adding a few pounds. In fact, just this afternoon, Cougar was asking me whether or not my pants were comfortable as they appeared to be binding in some places. I’m thanking my lucky stars that the mirrored glass is on the outside of the building. I order what Cougar is having and Hula Girl orders what I'm having. The reason I go with Cougar is that she dines at Pho #1 quite often and seems very satisfied with the fare. I want to trust.

The Chow:
Plenty of it. A nice mixture of rice noodles, pickled vegetables, grilled shrimp, grilled chicken and a deep fried egg roll thingy. I'm sure in Vietnam this dish goes for just pennies and is incredibly delicious. But they have a Napalm scarred landscape, land mines, and a hell of a lot of war disfigured people wandering around the streets. And, I've heard rumors of dog being on the menu in more that a few establishments.

The Wrap:
C: I think the shrimp has gone off….
HG: There’s a really fishy taste here somewhere….
Me: I think the chicken was not quite right…I'm not sure it was even Chicken. I just passed a paw!

The Rating: 2.6 out of 5.

N is for Never Eat There

There are so many places in the world to eat. So many, in fact, that books have been written about them books that fill countless shelves in countless bookstores and libraries, and still, people go wrong in choosing a place. Clearly I can’t eradicate the world’s wrongs, not even Atlas, with his broad shoulders and long suffering patience could to that. The feat is so daunting that even Hercules passed on it, choosing something a bit simpler, like throwing the earth into a different orbit.

I want to go on record as saying that I really do like to eat and I really do like food. Not that you could really convince Hula Girl, Doc, Cougar, or even Tuna and Lily White of this, though the latter two might be able to be convinced of this just a bit more easily than the others. Not that they’re jaded, but they’ve just seen me take one bite of something and throw the rest away too many times to think otherwise. Hula Girl is quick to tell the story about the time we all went to a Chinese restaurant in town (it shall remain nameless for the time being, but I’ll say that you can see it from the Popeyes drive through). I had my heart set on pot stickers and chose them from the menu. After watching several other tables (who, I might add, had arrived and ordered after us) get their pot stickers, our waitress informed me that there were none left. I threw a bit of a fit (minor, if the truth be told, just a bunch of questions as to why the other people go theirs and I wasn’t getting mine…I smelled a conspiracy) and ended up ordering a plate of fortune cookies. I was as satisfied as I could be, making a sow’s purse out of the proverbial (and indigestible) pig’s ear. Everyone at the table was convinced that I had had a horrible meal. Not so. 8 fortunes do not a bad meal make. Cougar, however, was seated with a view to the kitchen. You know what they say about viewing the kitchen of a Chinese restaurant…An elderly lady of, oh, I’m guessing here of about 95, sat eating chicken heart chow mien out of the bottom of a cut off gallon milk jug. We never saw the inside of that place again. A Never Eat There place.



I’m as food phobic as the next fellow, likely more so. I’m terrified of the poison meat, of something not quite right, not quite wrong about a meal. As much as I want to warn you away from having a bad meal, what I truly want is to find the all-elusive good meal. For me, a good meal is 1) enjoyed with friends, new or old; 2) tasty and delicious (hell, I’ll be satisfied with just tasty); 3) authentic, meaning it is what it is in the very best way that it can be; and, 4) truly giving of joy.

Really and truly, it’s quite simple: simple food, good friends and good feelings. We’ve got the good friends thing hands down, now, if we can only take care to avoid the stomachaches….

Home, Home in the Fry-O-Later – My Homestyle Cafe

I nominate this place for Best Color Scheme in a Restaurant. Brilliant yellow and Greek blue is such a happy and fun combination. I had passed the restaurant on one of my brief forays into Downtown Vallejo some weeks ago and was intrigued by the bright colors. I thought to myself, “now that’s a place I want to try!” Imagine my delight when, on M day, My Homestyle Café came right to the top of the list, the only other viable competition being Max’s of Manila. I may be a bit of a sadist, so I actually did think about pushing the Max’s choice, but at heart, I really do want to eat a good lunch. And, truth to tell, even I’m getting a bit discouraged by what I’m finding. Not that I’m ready to give up, but I do need some encouragement from the food side to keep going. I’m starvin’ here!

The Process:
Hula Girl was in a bit of a hurry, so we rushed out of the building with barely an address in hand and no idea about what to order. We shouted out a promise to Tuna and Cougar to call them with a menu read through in case they wanted to put in an order. There was plenty of parking in front of the café and, surprisingly, it was packed. The atmosphere was, well, lively as it was the owner’s birthday. Cakes and presents filled a few of the tables in front, and I took this as a good sign that the food would live up to this early promise. After a hasty call back to the office, Tuna and Cougar opted for the same meal.

The Chow:

There is truth in advertising ! My Homestyle Café serves, well, homestyle food. Down home. I wasn’t able to peek into the kitchen, but my best guess would be that they have more than two industrial sized Fry-O-Laters running at full bore back there. I have to say that I really, really wanted to like this place more than I did. I had the Philly Cheesesteak, which was one of the specials of the day, Fried Catfish being the other. The rest of the kids had the 3 piece fish and chips meal. Super Fry ! I liked the Philly Cheesesteak. I really did.



The Wrap:
Ohhhhhhhhhh. Owwwwwwwww. My stomach hurts. No, I mean it, my stomach really hurts. “Does anyone have a banana? I’ve gotta get that oil taste out of my mouth.”

The Rating: 2.6 out of 5.