Feast

Like all trendy cool people, I wanted to make sure to get to Feast before they closed for good. My main goal in this was to be able to bring it up in conversations with people who had never been there - "Oh, remember the good old days when Feast was still a restaurant? Man, I had so many shenanigan there that one time I went. Oh, you didn't go? Sucks to be you..." I've been practicing my condescending stare in the mirror all morning instead of doing something productive like working on a career or beating the new Nancy Drew computer game I just installed on my computer.

The best part about Feast is that you need a reservation to get in there. Well I'm not sure if you NEED a reservation. But I got one anyway! This is something I've actually never done before. I recently watched Lena Dunham's hit movie Tiny Furniture and in it she works as a phone girl taking reservations; this made me feel like it was something I could do. If it's Lena Dunham on the other side of the phone, I told myself, answering this phone to give dramatic pause between talking to the handsome chef, then I should be able to handle the social interaction of a several second phone call between myself and a stranger. This assumption is strengthened by the fact that I also am a phone girl at a restaurant and routinely have to have several second phone calls with strangers over fifty times a night. However, at the last minute I choked. For one thing it took me more than one scroll in the internet to find the phone number to Feast, which meant that I had time to be distracted by cute pictures of cats. (Just to let you know I've been distracted in the middle of this post six times already) By the time I found the phone number, I'd already lost confidence. After all, I'd managed to be awake for three hours already without having to talk to a single person. What if that day was the day I broke a world record for longest time spent living in society without talking to a person? It's true that I was planning on going to Feast that night with a date, but Thomas would understand if I didn't talk to him all evening, if it was, you know, for fame and fortune. I'd mention him in my acceptance speech, if I ever spoke again to give one. So I went to Open Table and made the reservation there, and now I'm convinced that Open Table was only invented so that socially handicapped people like me also can eat at nice restaurants +87

Let's talk about brussel sprouts for a second here. Feast has excellent brussel sprouts, I'd like to inform everyone. I'd say third best in Houston after Uchi and then that place in Oak Forest called Plonk! stay tuned for a review next week. Since when were brussel sprouts so trendy! I don't know but they've always been one of my favorite vegetables. I've come a long way since when my mother made brussel sprouts dressed with nothing but lemon juice and butter, I now have several very complicated recipes for brussel sprouts all involving bacon or bacon grease. Anyways remember how people always used to hate brussel sprouts even though they were secretly delicious this whole time? I just want to say that I'm proud of our local area restaurants for bringing this misunderstood vegetable to the table. +13 Though come on brussel sprouts you haven't made it easy for everyone by masquerading as a tiny cabbage which I think we can all agree is the most disgusting vegetable on the planet even my fish won't eat cabbage and they'll eat garbage. (Don't worry I never fed my fish garbage before)

There is one thing I didn't like about Feast. They have those little bowls of salt on the table and you're supposed to use a tiny little spoon to put salt on your food! I think those bowls are so disgusting! Like what if someone went to the bathroom and they didn't wash their hands and then they picked up their water glass and the germs got onto the drink and then they toasted with their water glass directly above the salt bowl and then the condensation from the drink trickled at that exact moment into the tiny little salt bowl? Bam all of a sudden there's germs in your salt! ALSO there's more to my hating here, what's up with that tiny little spoon? There's no way that's as efficient for salt use as a shaker with tiny holes. What if you have Parkinson's disease? All your salt is going to get clumped into very few places and then some of your food is way way way too salty and then the rest of your food isn't salty at all but you don't dare try again because then all your food will be too salty and also it will all be covered in germs. -21 I think it's all part of one of those plans that I hear about where the chef doesn't want you to use salt because they perfectly salted the food already. Look I'll agree the food was perfectly salted, nobody here at Arbitrary Criticism (it's just me guys) is going to argue with you on that. What's more if this is the plan I like it a lot better than just not having salt on the table, now I at least feel like I didn't put salt on because I decided not to, not because I was forbidden to by some guy I never even met before. +3 This is America guys c'mon.

Haikus on the Subject of Jack-in-the-Box, Friendship

Hard night studying
Melissa in the doorway
"Want Jack-in-the-Box?"

("Studying" not right -
"Procrastinating" correct.
Sometimes more draining!)

A quilt on the floor
Our feast spread out before us
Reruns of South Park

Three crispy eggrolls
Cabbage hot enough to melt
Flame retardant skin

A pair of tacos
Delicious, deep fried, greasy
Just ninety-nine cents

Carmel iced coffee
No longer available
Helped me pass college

Late nights at the Box
Laughing at the intercom
Celebrating life

Petrol Station

So I don't know if you guys ever watch Drinking Made Easy, but it's not a very good podcast and they came to Houston and had a drinking contest at Petrol Station! They were there, at the bar that I am reviewing! (Though to be clear I am reviewing them as a restaurant not as a bar, I have standards guys even if I did watch Drinking Made Easy, the worst show ever made.)

When I walked in I very nearly stumbled into a guy that I recently graduated college with. The worst part of this is that never, in the four years and dozen classes we spent together, did I say one word to this man. This is pretty hard, considering the number of group projects the average member of the Conrad N Hilton College of Hotel/Restaurant Management is required to be in, but yes this particular man and I never once spoke to each other. Now, here we are, in our real lives, almost literally running into each other... talk about awkward. I want you to know that I managed to keep up my streak and neither one of us even said excuse me. I could tell from the stricken look on his face that he as well is a member of that very socially awkward group I'm in, that would rather cut off their arms than talk to another person; the sad thing is that this interaction, from us sharing an interest in attending the same bar and then sharing the other interest of not speaking to weirdos from college, suggests that we might have been friends had we ever been forced to communicate, but that time is past and now we will never have another opportunity. -13 Also I was wearing my favorite shirt that I wore to class at least a million times over the last four years and it would have been really embarrassing to talk to him because if he did recognize me it was probably because my Three Wolf Moon shirt was a dead give away.

Also what kind of name is Petrol Station guys? Come on this is America. You can't even try to tell me it's a British style pub because guess what guys? They serve AMERICAN CRAFT BEERS THERE. American, guys. They know what country they are in! This is exactly the kind of flip flopping I think we all grew to expect from John Kerry in his presidential run, not the kind of flip flopping I want from a place I'm planning on buying alcohol. -9 My understanding is that they had a different sort of scandal a few years back in which they were accused of being unAmerican; can they really afford the sort of bad publicity that comes from being called Petrol Station? I recommend a quick change to the Gas Station, but it's important to make the change in a way that doesn't force me to think this is just a further inability to stick to their guns.

I want to be clear that I kind of like the atmosphere at this place. I mean I get that the food is really not that great (I ordered the Pig Newton, what a letdown guys. "Pig Newton" is such a fun, charming name, I really expected something fun and charming in response, but just between you and me it was way too salty and then the sweetness of the fig preserves just made everything nasty. Speaking as someone with years of fig preserve making under their belt, well like one year anyway, I can criticize without losing any sleep at night. And then here's the thing about prosciutto, guys, it's amazing, the best thing the Italians every gave us after the lively news coverage of Berlusconi's constant stream of scandals. Yet this particular sandwich made me think prosciutto is gross, a hard thing to do.) And I don't really like craft beer, I don't like any beer at all don't think I'm discriminating, so that's not a huge draw for me. And I get that waiting over an hour for your food is silly, no matter how busy they are. Guys it really does not take that long to make a burger. Plus I've been reading yelp! a lot lately (only negative reviews, I don't like to read about people being happy, that's why Edith Wharton and Hemingway are my favorite writers, they can really make you depressed about your future), this is a reoccurring pattern, why don't they just hire an extra kitchen guy? I mean it seems like an easy solution. But I'm not here to tell people how to live their lives, I'm here to tell you that I think it's sweet that you go into the restaurant and then it looks small and then you realize there's a back patio and you go out on the back patio and it's bigger but still small, and then you look and realize that there's more space out even beyond that, enough space that it could be turned into a wildlife preserve for like buffaloes or whatever it is you want to preserve.  Tigers, or something. Ostriches, if you're watching the new season of Arrested Development. +18 So my point is this is a bad place if you want to eat food or not run into people you went to college with or not drink craft beers but other than that it's really nice and they have picnic tables.

A Poem to Taco Bell

Cheesy Gordita Crunch
I love you
your taste
your texture
your crunch.
The way that when I bite in
the Pepper Jack sauce
mixes with the packet of fire sauce
and trickles down my face
in rivulets.
You're always there
when I'm drunk
sober
studying
getting off of work
too lazy to make dinner
need something to sneak into the movies
going to the park
going on a road trip
already ate dinner but want to boredom eat
wearing my favorite shirt and want to celebrate.

You're there when
my feet hurt
my head hurts
my back hurts
I'm on my period
Dumbledore just died
I'm cleaning my room
(just kidding that never happens)
I just saw Twilight and it was sadly just as good as the book
there are no parking spots on campus and I have to just skip class instead.
I've loved you
my whole life and with
every part of my soul.
Cheesy Gordita Crunch
I love you.

Beaver's

I went here on Mother's Day with my mother for brunch. It was impossible to miss that it was brunch because on the menu they handed us there were four different recipes for Bloody Marys and two recipes for mimosas. This is the kind of brunch menu my mother and I approve of. +8 My understanding is that they also serve food here.

Just kidding of course I ate the food there! Here's what else was really nice about their menu: two of their brunch items had exclamation points after them, so that you know the restaurant is really excited to serve them! The two menu items in question were their stacked enchiladas!!! and Reubang! sandwich. I know what you're thinking, a smart girl would have ordered something that the restaurant was that excited about, but I'm a college graduate now so I don't have to act like a smart girl I can simply manage, lead, synergize, etc. other people into doing it for me. Either way I loved this about them, it got me very excited about my meal, and I'm planning on using the same tactic for the next time I make dinner for my boyfriend. "We're having appetizers! of three different kinds!!! all out of a box! and no entree at all!!". (I'm very domesticated, I know you are all very jealous of him for getting to date me.)

The best part of Beaver's though was that they'd printed out all sorts of popular memes from the internet and posted them around the doors of the restaurant. There was First World Problems, a woman weeping into her hand, thinking, "I can't believe I didn't see the hostess. Now I don't have a menu." There was Good Guy Greg, smoking his joint, saying, "Notices Signs. Sees Hostess." There was my pal Philosoraptor, pondering, "If you don't see the hostess, how will anyone know you are here?" I loved this stuff! I loved it a bunch! +183 Most restaurants, I'm sure you are aware, just have a little sign that says "Please wait for a hostess" real politely. This is not enough of a precaution! Trust me I know, sometimes I'm a hostess! And I can't tell you how aggravating it is to have people seat themselves. Here's why: being a hostess is not the most exciting job in the world. All you have to do is find clean, empty tables, and lead people to them in a way that best maintains a low empty seat count. People have done this in their sleep before. So when people show up and just seat themselves! I mean come on! This is all I'm doing tonight! I cleared my whole schedule! I specifically put on my work shirt and tied my sneakers to come and be with you tonight, and for you to assume that you can do my job better than me is simply insulting. Also, I hate when there is clearly a line of people waiting for a table and someone comes up to me, the hostess, and says, "So, can I just seat myself?" That's like stomping up to a doctor's office, waiting while he puts on all his operating gloves and such, and then saying to him, so, "can I just remove my own kidney, or what?" What do you think that man is standing there for?? I'm getting a little heated here so I'll just summarize: I really appreciate Beaver's clear and thoughtful response to the major disrespect of their hostesses, and I certainly appreciate their use of First World Problems, the meme I most frequently associate with (after, of course, Foul Bachelorette Frog)

All I have left so say about this joint is that the apartments across the street at 2411 Washington look really nice and attractive, but don't fall in love because a one-bedroom starts at $1279 and ain't nobody got time for that.

Which Wich

Look guys. I just want to start by saying that no matter what it seems like from the name, Which Wich does not serve sandwiches. They serve magic, and nothing but magic.

I used to work in this pizza restaurant and now that none of us work there anymore I can tell you that my manager used to break our employee food rule and we’d trade three pizzas to Which Wich every Sunday in exchange for sandwiches. And oh, my, did we get the good end of the deal. They send over their longest sandwiches, stuff them full of meats and cheeses. They’d pack us little bags with chips and cookies in them. One day it was hotter than usual and they threw in some milk shakes for us, because they thought we might want them. They thought we might want them! We didn’t even ask! We didn’t even suggest that we thought we might one day rise so high in their favor! +1857 They never put olives on any of my sandwiches and whenever we called them, they sounded so grateful to hear from us that it was as if they were the ones who were blessed, they were the ones who were receiving a great prize.

Can we talk about how awesome they are? What about that logo of theirs? Have you seen it? It says Which Wich, but the bottom of the W, the bottom half, overlaps a loaf of bread so it’s like the v shapes are the slashes put in the bread to keep it from bursting. +8! Isn’t that imaginative? I know right? Simultaneously telling us what their name is and evoking the image of fresh bread? Honestly I don’t even care how fresh their bread is, they could get it at the day old store and I’d still eat it as long as they slathered it with hummus and honey mustard. Uggh have you had their honey mustard? Which Wich is the only place I’ll eat it now because nobody will ever be as good as them again.

And their cute little conveyor oven? I know all sandwich places have them, but it’s only cute at Which Wich. I like the idea of my sandwich getting on the conveyor belt, and it’s not sure what’s going to happen to it, but it’s just glad that it gets to be a sandwich, and it’s a little self-conscious and it hopes that I like it. It’s a little bit like being a bride on your wedding day, but nicer. It goes onto the conveyor belt and then all of a sudden it’s out of sight? What happens to it? The same things that happen to our bride friend. Its cheese melts and its crust toasts, and its eyebrows get plucked and its hair combed out so it’s really nice and shiny. The vegetables get all hot and start to juice out a bit, so all the flavors run together and when I take a bite they’ll run down my chin. It puts on a really pretty white dress and it puts something old and something new, something borrowed and something blue deep inside it, hidden to where only it knows which is which. Which is wich? Heh heh heh. The meat starts to sizzle and it says goodbye to its mom and to its dad, and then it’s out of the conveyor oven and I can see it again, and it’s the most beautiful sandwich in the world. I want to cry every time I see it, but I’m the man in this metaphor, and I can’t.

Also! The cups that their milkshakes come in! Can we please go back to the milkshakes! It’s not just that they’re amazing, it’s that the cups that they come in can totally be washed and reused at your home for all sorts of purposes! You can drink water out of those cups, you can drink orange juice, you can drink any kind of liquid you want, though I don’t recommend anything too hot just on principle because the plastic just isn’t that thick! +45 Still! Even without that structural problem, they are still awesome cups! I like any sort of cup that means I can increase my material net worth and take up more space in the cabinets than my roommates! Except my roommates also have these cups, so it’s impossible to tell who’s is who’s! That’s the problem with having roommates! We have the same issue when it comes to red UH cups that we stole from the dormitories before moving into real apartments! Moving away from each other is going to be a mess! I can’t stop ending sentences in exclamation points, because I love Which Wich so much!

Finally. Did you know that every single sandwich you would ever want to get at Which Wich, can also be made into a salad? Oh my God. I don’t even know what to add on to that, except that this is my greatest fantasy in life, for someone else to constantly be at my beck and call to make salads for me whenever I want them. +98 Which Wich, you know me so well. You understand my childhood pain of having to always make the salad for everyone else, and to never have the salad made for me. You get me, like nobody else ever has. I promise to love and cherish you, as long as we both shall live.

BB's

Some of you may have read less than glowing reviews of Louisiana in this forum before. Those of you who know me may have heard me call Louisiana "America's butthole", "a dingleberry", or "a crappy place to go." Hating Louisiana as I did, I refused to enjoy Cajun food in any form, referring to all of it as "sewer trash". I know, guys. "Sewer trash" is a redundant phrase. Everything in a sewer is trash. Anyways! I've been shown the light! This Spring Break my best friend from high school and I ventured into the wasteland of Louisiana, and I kind of have a different opinion of it now! I mean don't get me wrong, the air got noticeably smellier once we crossed the border and I wasn't carded once in that lawless society (which, now that I'm over 21, makes me feel like an old lady rather than lucky that I got away with something I shouldn't have.) However everything I ate there was really tasty and more importantly, I held a baby alligator, which was life-changing.

Did you know that alligators have an acid inside their bellies that completely breaks down blood and sinew? They can just eat whole animals without having to worry about what's going to happen to them later.

Anyway. So now that I like Cajun food, I sauntered on over to local favorite BB's Cafe. I assume it's a local favorite because the logo is so cute, a snoozing moon, that there's no way people could manage to stay away. The logo would just melt their hearts. +10 Also there is a BB's right next to the Velvet Melvin, where I frequently hold my birthday parties. Public service announcement: you can no longer get a fish tank for free on your birthday, you have to pay $18 for it even if you cry. If you're looking for a better deal on your birthday, you can come over to my apartment but there's no guarantee that I'll stay awake past 12:30 to hang out with you (maybe that's why people in New Orleans didn't card me - because it was barely even night time hours and I was already checking my watch and wondering aloud when we could be back to the hotel room, asleep)

Look I'm going to tell you something real here guys, something non-arbitrary. I loved the fried pickles at this place. +1798 Fried pickles is one of the things that I like to eat the most with my mother, who is another fanatic. I've tried fried pickles across town - at Hooters, at Katz's, at Studio Movie Grill, at no other places than that. And the fried pickles at BB's are hands down the best in Houston. Not only because of the delicate flaking of the batter whenever you bite into them, but also because the ranch dipping sauce that they provide is BACON JALAPENO RANCH. It is so good, you have no idea. Recently my boyfriend told me that nothing I do would ever embarrass him, and so lately I've been testing him and I did eat a spoonful of bacon jalapeno ranch all by itself just to see if it's true. Let the record show that he was not embarrassed, -5, but the bacon jalapeno ranch dipping sauce was just as amazing by itself as it was with fried pickles dipped into it. Guys I love BB's, let's just get that through our heads.

I will say though that there was one thing I found unsatisfactory. Inside the Angry Orchard's six-pack that was holding the condiments on my table (I know, aren't they so trendy and cool with their empty hard apple cider cases on every table? This didn't even make me as mad as creative recycling normally does because of the food coma I was very quickly lulled into.) there were four different bottles of hot sauces. Two of the hot sauces were Tabasco related. One was Cajun Chef. One was Crystal's, admittedly the third greatest hot sauce. NONE were Louisiana hot sauce, my favorite hot sauce every, which is named for the state that this food came from!!! -19 Come on guys, can we at least stay on theme??? Look I'm not mad about this, I'm not about to go write a Yelp review or anything, especially since all the food was perfect and didn't need hot sauce. I would however call myself at least a bit disgruntled and I will be telling all of my friends that I meet at my next birthday at the Velvet Melvin about this.