Guilty Pleasures – The Saboscrivner

Chain Reactions: Krispy Krunchy Chicken

Krispy Krunchy Chicken (https://krispykrunchy.com/) is a unique fried chicken chain with a distinct Cajun accent, founded in Lafayette, Louisiana, in 1989. It is a unique chain because most of the locations are inside gas station convenience stores, but anyone who reads my blog knows you can often find great food in the most humble-looking and unlikely of places.

Take, for example, the Citgo station at 3025 East Colonial Drive, 32803, in Orlando, on the corner of East Colonial Drive and Maguire Road. This is on the edge of a couple of the best foodie neighborhoods in the city: the Milk District and Mills 50. I’ve been driving past this gas station for years, and only recently noticed a sign that it offered Krispy Krunchy Chicken inside. I had to try it, for the sake of journalism and a librarian’s desire to share information. I’m not sorry I did.

When you place your order, you ask for the chicken you want from under the heat lamps, and a nice lady will bag it up for you. It was all very fresh.

The sides are self-serve (you just grab them yourself). This sign lists prices for single pieces of chicken:
Breast: $3.19
Wing: $1.89
Thigh: $2.09
Leg: $2.09
Tender: $1.89

Here’s a close-up of that bottom shelf, which includes honey butter biscuits, boneless chicken tenders, corn dogs, and egg rolls. Sauces are 50 cents each (original, buffalo, honey mustard, ranch, tartar, sweet and sour, and barbecue), but as much as I love sauces and condiments, I was trying this chicken for the first time, so I didn’t want to overwhelm my palate or distract from the main mission with too many variables.

I ordered a two-piece meal ($7.99) with a leg, a thigh, a side (see below), and a honey butter biscuit, and had a little picnic in my car. Totally worth it. The chicken was juicy and the breading was thick and crunchy, but not as Cajun-spicy as I was hoping. Still, you can’t ask for much more than that, especially from a gas station convenience store setup! The biscuit was a real standout. Not in the same league as Se7en Bites, Orlando’s beloved Southern bakery and restaurant moments away, which is home of the best biscuits ever, but perfectly fine to accompany this chicken.

I couldn’t resist getting an order of fried chicken gizzards too. (I don’t remember how much this was.) Now I LOVE chicken livers (chopped liver is one of the foods of my people!) and hearts, but I didn’t remember ever trying gizzards before. They were REALLY chewy. That’s the most I can say about them.

The macaroni and cheese tasted a lot better than it looks here, flattened down by the lid on this styrofoam cup. But I don’t even think it looks bad. It looks and tastes like typical macaroni and cheese you would get as a side at any number of barbecue joints or Southern restaurants. So maybe not Orlando’s best (for that, check out Pom Pom’s Teahouse and Sandwicheria, nearby in the Milk District, and also Se7en Bites again!), but very pleasing nonetheless.

Since this was my first visit to a Krispy Krunchy Chicken location, I got two additional sides while I was there. These red beans and rice were suitably smoky, salty, and creamy, but you just can’t beat Popeyes red beans and rice. That’s the quintessential version right there, the one that even chefs (like David Chang) cite as the best.

But my favorite side was the jambalaya, saucy rice with chunks of (andouille?) sausage and ham. I always like jambalaya, whether it’s from an old restaurant in the French Quarter or a box from Zatarain’s. This was somewhere in between, quality-wise, but closer to the French Quarter than the box. I didn’t expect it to be as good as it was.

Would I go back? Absolutely I would. As much as I generally like Popeyes for bone-in fried chicken, they can be hit-or-miss with both food quality and service. And this particular Krispy Krunchy Chicken gas station location is a lot more convenient for me than the always-excellent Theo’s Kitchen. This was solid fried chicken, but I think the thing I liked the most was the jambalaya. It was so tasty and hearty and full of meat, I could happily make it the centerpiece of a meal some other day, when I’m in the mood for such a thing again.

Chain Reactions: Buc-ee’s

We were somewhere around DeLand on the edge of I-4 East when the Beaver Nuggets began to take hold. Luckily, Doctor Professor Ma’am and I didn’t encounter any bats on our drive to or from Daytona Beach, but we shared a truly exhausting, truly American experience at Buc-ee’s (https://buc-ees.com/), the colossal convenience store just off I-95, a unique shopping experience as vast, overwhelming, and occasionally maddening as its home state of Texas.

Imagine Wawa, Cracker Barrel, and Walmart Supercenter twisted into a sweaty, throbbing throuple, and that comes close, but still doesn’t quite capture the sensory overload of Buc-ee’s. I counted 43 locations on the website, but there are only two in Florida, both new: off the highway in Daytona Beach and St. Augustine. We didn’t even bother to fill up the car with gas there, given the surprising crowd at lunchtime on a Friday. Instead, we hustled inside to see what food and snacks awaited us in the sprawling superstore.

They say everything is bigger in Texas: the deserts, the hats, the trucks, the cattle, the churches, the guns, the belt buckles, and unfortunately the intolerance (see recent news for far too many examples). Well, Buc-ee’s goes big in every way as well. Once we made our way through sections of the store devoted to kitschy casual clothing, folksy home décor, and touristy novelties (the “schlock and awe” department), we made it to the the real draws: stacks and stacks of snacks and snacks.

Here is the wall of jerky, which is the kind of wall Texas should focus on building. There is also a jerky counter, where you can get any of the jerky varieties you want, by the pound. It was easier and faster to grab bags off the wall for $7.99 each.

I chose cherry maple, Bohemian garlic, and sweet and spicy beef jerky. So far, the cherry maple was disappointingly bland, but the Bohemian garlic was packed with strong, garlicky flavor.

Doctor Professor Ma’am is more of a fan of gummy candy, and she was faced with overwhelming options, here at the wall of gummies.

She went with hot cinnamon gummy bears (I think that smell, taste, and texture are all gross, but more for her!) and chamoy-flavored peach rings, pictured below with three different flavors of Rice Krispy Treats she chose (regular, salted caramel, and “Fruity”), plus fried pecans.

I’m not really into nuts. I just buy them for her, and I almost never snack on them myself. But when we busted into these fried pecans back at home, all I could say was “GOOD LORD.” Even with the hell-squirrel armed with a sharp fork on the bag, “GOOD LORD” is the appropriate response. I couldn’t believe how good they were. At $14.99, that was the most expensive single item we bought, but it is a good-sized bag, and they are so rich, they should last quite a while.

As an unabashed fan and collector of condiments, sauces, and preserves, Buc-ee’s had a staggering selection to tease, tantalize, and tempt me.

I went a little mad, but we all go a little mad sometimes. I couldn’t resist (I’m your) huckleberry and blackberry preserves, peach-chipotle and mango-pineapple-habanero salsas, prickly pear cactus jam, candied jalapeños, sweet and spicy ghost pepper hot sauce, and pickled quail eggs!

I fully admit I haven’t tried most of these yet, since our fridge door has only so much space (and it is already stuffed with interesting things in bottles and jars, as one would expect from me). But I did just bust open the pickled quail eggs, after letting the jar chill in the fridge overnight, and I liked it a lot! Very spicy and tangy from the vinegary brine, which includes garlic and jalapeños. “What, you egg?” [I stabbed it.]

It was even hard to choose a soft drink, with dozens of options. This is only one of the three huge soda fountain setups. I grabbed an extra-large cup, avoided anything I could find elsewhere, and sampled sips of the Buc-ee’s-specific flavors. Favorites included pineapple cream soda, piña colada soda, orange Creamsicle soda, sarsaparilla, strawberry lemonade (non-carbonated), and my big winner, the cream soda on the far right, which I ultimately filled our shared cup with for the schlep home. Doctor Professor Ma’am said it tasted like pecan pie filling as a soda, and she wasn’t wrong. It was too sweet to be refreshing, but a very tasty cream soda nonetheless. We also tried the blue cream soda, which I thought tasted like banana-flavored candy. She liked it until the chemically aftertaste hit. We both really wished some of those sodas were sold in bottles or cans, since we would have definitely bought a few different ones to savor later, but alas, they were fountain drinks only.

There were multiple stations to get hot, fresh food, including a station with barbecue sandwiches already wrapped in foil. I grabbed us a pulled pork sandwich that was delicious. Doctor Professor Ma’am was tired and hungry by this point, so we split it in the car in the parking lot on the way out to keep hungry from approaching hangry. Forgive my freestyling, but we savagely ravaged this sandwich, and its richness fixed us from being sad bitches. The barbecue sauce was sweet, but it didn’t overwhelm the smoky savoriness of the pork.

There were also touch-screen kiosks for ordering other food, including tacos, burritos, chicken fingers, and a few other sandwiches that get freshly assembled. I was really hoping to get a pastrami Reuben on a pretzel roll, which came highly recommended, but they weren’t available! I was so disappointed, which is a quintessentially American take, to bemoan the loss of one option in this land of abundance. So I chose a “Chopping Block” sandwich that came with sliced rare roast beef, horseradish, Swiss cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, red onions, and I asked to add jalapeños for a 50-cent upcharge. We had to wait a while for that one, since the sandwich-makers were slammed due to 20 busy touchscreen kiosks all beaming in constant orders, but it was worth the wait. The roast beef was tender, flavorful, and rare, the way I like it, the hoagie roll was nice and soft, and the sandwich was still warm by the time I got it home. To the right is a chopped brisket sandwich that was also really good — pre-wrapped in foil like the pulled pork sandwich, and mixed up with sweet sauce. I liked it even better than the pulled pork.

She was disappointed by the fresh potato chips, but I thought they were fine. Just plain, crispy, salty, slightly greasy chips, as expected.

A fried apple pie was yet another impulse buy. She enjoyed it in the car (eating it over the open bag to catch the cinnamon sugar cascade), and the one bite I took was really good. The flaky fried crust was terrific. We hoped it would be like the bubbly, crackly McDonald’s fried apple pies of our ’80s childhoods, but it turned out to be so much better than those.

Here’s half of the brisket sandwich I saved for Doctor Professor Ma’am back at home, along with a cream cheese kolache (left), a strawberry cheese kolache (right), and a sausage, cheese, and jalapeño kolache (bottom). Kolaches are pastries that Czech immigrants brought to Texas. There are sweet and savory varieties, and as you can see, the sweet ones look a lot like danishes. The sausage inside that bottom one was hot dog-shaped, but much chewier, like a Slim Jim. It was okay. The pastry itself is just like chewy white bread.
I also got a boudin kolache that looked almost exactly like the one on the bottom in this photo, stuffed with the savory Cajun pork-and-rice sausage, but that one didn’t last long enough to get photographed.

They had a fudge counter with nearly 20 different varieties of fudge, all neatly divided into squares. You could buy any combination of four and get two more free, so how could we refuse? My wife chose the different fudge flavors, and there is a chocolate one for sure, a chocolate pecan, a “gooey pecan,” a “tiger butter” in the top left (vanilla, chocolate, and peanut butter), and a blueberry cheesecake fudge (bottom left). The sweet fudge lady would cut off little sample slivers, and I sampled key lime pie and banana pudding fudge. Both were good, but too rich to get entire slices of, on top of everything else. She warned me I might not like the banana pudding fudge, but I sure showed her!

Anyway, these are ridiculously rich, so I know we will make them last. We might even freeze some, forget about them for a while, and then have a pleasant surprise when we rediscover them days or probably weeks later.

The very first thing that tempted Doctor Professor Ma’am was a box of six pecan pralines. I suggested we do one loop around the store first to get the lay of the land before we start grabbing everything, and that’s when she found individual pecan pralines at the fudge counter. She was thrilled to be able to just get one, rather than a six-pack, with all the other stuff we chose. I broke off one little morsel, and it was almost cloyingly sweet and intensely rich.

Since I regularly review chips in my series of Tight Chips features here on The Saboscrivner, I couldn’t resist grabbing a few small bags of classic, barbecue, and hot Buc-ee’s chips. I don’t know how they’ll be, but I got ’em.
A sample guy was giving out samples of the barbecue-flavored Baked Chees-ee Curls, the Buc-ee’s version of Cheetos, and they were good enough to bring home a small bag. I’m surprised Frito-Lay hasn’t come out with a barbecue Cheetos flavor, in all these decades.

And we couldn’t go all the way to Buc-ee’s without grabbing a bag of Beaver Nuggets, one of the most famous (infamous?) and recommended snacks from fellow travelers. These things are unbelievably good. Crunchy, toffee-sweet, buttery, salty. Imagine Corn Pops cereal, but a million times better in every possible way. Neither of us had ever tried them before, but I figured she would love them, and I was right. As for me, I can eat a whole bag of chips standing up in my kitchen without even thinking about what I’m doing, but the Beaver Nuggets are so much richer, heavier, and more substantial than chips, I was perfectly content after just crunching on a few of them.
The Buc-ee’s Nug-ees on the right are a “Bold ‘n’ Spicy” version of the sweet, crunchy Beaver Nuggets. Their texture is softer, though — more like puffy Cheez Doodles that you can easily crush between your tongue and the roof of your mouth. They are well-dusted with spicy, cheesy orange powder that is spicier than regular Cheetos or Cheez Doodles, but much less spicy than Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. I can only imagine combining the two varieties in a bowl as some kind of decadent snack mix.

Finally, I grabbed two large boudain [sp] sausage links from a freezer case, and I got the small package of sliced smoked venison sausage at the jerky counter. Those were $5 and $4.40 respectively — cheaper than I expected. I haven’t tried them yet, but my hopes are high.

Our first trip to Buc-ee’s was both physically and mentally draining. It is a lot to process, and if you arrive hungry and like to try new foods and snacks, you can get yourself in a bit of trouble there, as we did. But it’s such an overwhelming experience, somewhere between the food halls in cosmopolitan cities like Philadelphia or Seattle and a Southern Walmart on Black Friday. I suspect that if we ever return, the novelty and mystery will have worn off, so we can quickly grab a few favorites and rush out, without feeling the need to see and try everything, like we did this time. Trader Joe’s definitely feels like that now, after breaking the bank on my first-ever visit so many years ago, but now just running in and out for a few staples while dodging the mobs. Novelty fades. Newness wears off. That’s why I constantly seek it out and share it here, with YOU.

But beyond the novelty of new sandwiches, snacks, and sodas, Buc-ee’s also felt like the kind of roadside attractions that used to line America’s highways and byways — bemusement parks that drew cross-sections of society away from their homes and out of their cars, those in-between places that made the journey so much more interesting (and often weirder) than the destination, before every highway exit started to feature the same corporate fast food restaurants and chain stores.

Being in a new job in academia where I no longer work directly with our diverse student body, and generally avoiding crowds and social situations for the past two years, this was the most people I had been around in a while — and such people! There were exhausted families, bored teenagers, leather-clad bikers, swaggering cowboy types, beachgoers, retirees, active-duty military men and women in uniform, actual Goths (in broad daylight, in Daytona Beach!), a guy who looked like Gung-Ho from G.I. Joe, and so many tattoos, with a particularly large amount of spider webs on elbows. The two of us only noticed one guy in an overtly political T-shirt, and we seemed to be the only two people still wearing masks. Stefon would have had a field day. But everyone was passing through Buc-ee’s on their way somewhere, fueling themselves up before or after they fueled up their cars, or stopping to use the gleaming, spotless restrooms (which are indeed glorious, living up to all the hype).

I wondered where that sea of sweaty people was off to, and how many had made the pilgrimage to Buc-ee’s as their ultimate destination, as we had, rather than just a rest stop along the way to someplace else. Well, stalwart Saboscrivnerinos, I can tell you that Buc-ee’s is definitely worth a stop — at least once — but don’t expect to get any rest there.

Chain Reactions: White Castle

“I chill at White Castle ’cause it’s the best/
But I’m fly at Fatburger when I’m way out west.”
–The Beastie Boys, “The New Style” (1986)

I’ve always been fascinated by the restaurants that I read about in books, saw in movies and TV shows, and heard referenced in songs, that weren’t anywhere near me in Florida. I’d think about how good that faraway food looked and sounded, and sometimes I’d even read menus and reviews online, even for places I doubted I would ever get to eat at.

The hell year 2020 encouraged a lot of people to seek comfort in nostalgia. For me, that meant getting back into G.I. Joe in a major way, and also taking a deep dive into the back catalog of the legendary Beastie Boys, those fun-loving rap-rockers, quintessential New Yorkers, and fellow Jewish goofballs. I always kinda liked them, going all the way back to elementary school, but during a year where we all worried about getting sick and dying, Mike D, Ad-Rock, and the late, great MCA brought me some much-needed joy and distraction. I played their albums on repeat every time I drove anywhere, giving me ample opportunity to analyze and obsess over the songs. They always made me laugh, and they impressed me with how they improved as musicians and matured as lyricists (and as people) from their debut album License to Ill (1986) all the way to their final album before Adam “MCA” Yauch’s tragic death, Hot Sauce Committee Part 2 (2011).

The Beastie Boys also made a lot of White Castle (https://www.whitecastle.com/) references in their lyrics, especially on License to Ill. They recorded that first album as teenagers before their careers blew up, so they probably ate there all the time. Every time I heard those songs, I craved White Castle’s tiny, greasy, oniony slider burgers, when all we had here in Orlando is its Southern rival/counterpart, Krystal. I unapologetically like Krystal quite a bit, don’t get me wrong, but I knew there would be differences. I’ve never had a chance to visit a White Castle while traveling, and I’ve always avoided the frozen boxes of White Castle sliders you can buy at most grocery stores, as I planned to save myself for the real deal some day.

“And I can always make ’em smile/
From White Castle to the Nile.”
–The Beastie Boys, “Girls” (1986)

Well, in 2021, the 100th anniversary of White Castle, the fast food chain opened its first Florida location since the 1970s right here in Orlando, and it also happened to be the world’s largest White Castle. It first opened on May 3rd, but I didn’t make it there until mid-July, when the opening hype and lines that lasted hours eventually died down, and when I had slightly less going on in my own life. The White Castle is down on the touristy side of town, over half an hour from my job during optimal traffic conditions, and almost an hour from home. I cautiously drove down there on a weekday afternoon, hoping I wouldn’t get stuck waiting an hour or more. And I couldn’t help but smile when I arrived at last and saw this sign, emblazoned with their Latin catchphrase “Desideres ego ergo sum,” or “I Crave, Therefore I Am.”

“Because being bad news is what we’re all about/
We went to White Castle and we got thrown out.”
–The Beastie Boys, “Slow Ride” (1986)

Once I arrived, the drive-through line looked long and didn’t seem to be going anywhere, so I opted to park and eat on the premises. There was a line to order inside that reached outside, but I only had to wait about ten minutes in the sweltering midday July heat and humidity before I made it through the doors into blasting air conditioning. They only had one cashier taking orders at a register, possibly giving a slammed kitchen a chance to catch up with orders, but of course by the time I finally made my way to the front, about half an hour later, they added a second cashier. A few people got fed up with waiting and left, but I am relieved to report that nobody got thrown out.

“Get down with Mike D and it ain’t no hassle/
I got the ladies of the eighties from here to White Castle.”
–The Beastie Boys, “Hold It Now, Hit It” (1986)

After studying the Orlando-specific menu, I knew I wanted sliders, and lots of ’em. I could put away those tiny beef patties steamed with onions, melty cheese, and soft buns. At Krystal I usually eat a dozen at a time when I partake once or twice a year, but this was White Castle, baby. For the past two and a half months, I’ve seen photos of my fellow Orlandoans leaving with Crave Cases ($30.59), blue and white cardboard briefcases that carry 30 sliders, and beset by FOMO, I was excited to get one of those for myself. I was hoping to mix and match many different kinds of sliders, but when I got there, they were adamant that you could only get the regular hamburger or cheeseburger sliders in the Crave Case. So I got one anyway, figuring I would have a ludicrous amount of leftovers, and I could freeze plenty for later.

I half-expected the Crave Case to glow when I opened it, like the MacGuffin briefcase in Pulp Fiction. But nope, instead it just contained 30 cheese sliders, arranged neatly in their little cardboard sleeves. The stuff that dreams are made of… or perhaps nightmares.

“Ad-Rock, AKA sharp cheddar/
My rhymes are better.”
–The Beastie Boys, “Triple Trouble” (2004)

Here’s a close-up of the three types of cheese sliders I ordered. White Castle has three cheese options: jalapeño (left), smoked cheddar (middle), and American (right), so of course I ordered ten of each to fill my Crave Case. I liked them all. I think American cheese is pretty much the perfect cheeseburger cheese. It’s tangy and melts so well. But the other two, the jalapeño and the smoked cheddar, tasted even more processed than the American cheese! Nothing but love, though. This was a long time coming, but they were delicious and worth the wait. I’m glad I never succumbed to the allure of the frozen White Castle sliders you can buy at Publix and even Aldi. I suspect they would have been disappointing compared to the real deal.I should note for the unfamiliar that White Castle sliders only come with steamed onions and a pickle slice. The menu above the registers at the restaurant says ketchup and mustard are available by request, and I do love condiments, but it was important to me on this first-ever pilgrimage to try them the most authentic way possible. I didn’t add ketchup, mustard, or any other condiments to the sliders I ate at the restaurant, and they were still extremely flavorful due to the onions and the melty cheeses.

“I’d like a lettuce, tomato and muenster on rye/
All this cheese is gonna make me cry.”
The Beastie Boys, “Shazam!” (2004)

Since I ordered a lot of other stuff that seemed like it would be more important to eat while it was hot and fresh, I brought the vast majority of the cheese sliders in my Crave Case home. It didn’t fit in my fridge, so I transferred the remaining sliders into some airtight containers, and I snacked on them in the subsequent days. Microwave them on a plate for 45 seconds, and they don’t taste that different from how they did fresh off the flattop grill at the restaurant. I also got a little more creative with condiments at home, but it turned out a little bit of ketchup and plain yellow mustard complemented them best. You really can’t go wrong with the classics!

“White Castle fries only come in one size.”
–The Beastie Boys, “Slow and Low” (1986)

A lot has changed since License to Ill dropped in 1986, as White Castle fries now come in multiple sizes. I ordered the small ($2.59), and due to a mix-up with my order (yes, folks, that’s another Beastie Boys album reference!), I ended up with a free large sack of fries too. These were crispy crinkle-cut fries that were excellent, by fast food standards. I was hardly able to make a dent in them at the restaurant, but I brought them home, and our toaster oven resuscitated them surprisingly well. I shared them with my wife, and we got four servings out of this unexpected windfall of fries. Even she loved them after their trip through the toaster oven, which neither of us were expecting.

“And that’s wrong, y’all, over the long haul/
You can’t cut the mustard when you’re fronting it all.”
The Beastie Boys, “Professor Booty” (1992)

“Well I’m as cool as a cucumber in a bowl of hot sauce/
You’ve got the rhyme and reason, but got no cause.”
The Beastie Boys, “So Whatcha Want” (1992)

“I keep that hot sauce hot, not mild and weak/
It’s gonna burn your mouth until you wet your beak.”
The Beastie Boys, “Hey Fuck You” (2004)

At White Castle, you can request a variety of dipping sauces. In addition to a handful of ketchup packets, I ended up with barbecue sauce, honey mustard, and Zesty Zing Sauce, which are all exactly what you expect. The creamy Zing Sauce isn’t hot at all, and just barely qualifies as zesty, if you ask me. I also requested the “Spicy Dusseldorf Mustard,” but they didn’t give me any of those. As a mustard maven, I was disappointed that they cut that mustard from my order. I could have lived without the BBQ sauce, but I wanted to try that spicy Dusseldorf! Oh well.

“Mike D! (YEAH?) With your bad self running things/
(WHAT’S UP?) With your bad breath — Onion rings!”
–The Beastie Boys, “Shake Your Rump” (1989)

According to White Castle’s online menu, the restaurants serve both onion rings and onion chips, but the Orlando location only serves onion chips ($3.79 for a large sack). As an onion ring aficionado, I had to try them, so even though these aren’t rings, I will still denote this review with a RING THE ALARM! tag, like I do whenever I try onion rings or similarly fried onions anywhere. And these “chips” were rad, despite the misleading moniker. They were more like onion petals, like thicker, larger, crunchier, somehow less greasy Bloomin’ Onion pieces, only breaded instead of battered. Thick breading, crunchy, not overly greasy, firm enough to dip and not have them fall apart. Yes, they were very salty, like pretty much everything else I sampled, but I liked them a lot and would definitely order them on a return trip.

There were a few things in my massive order that I didn’t love, but that’s because for the purposes of writing a more complete and exhaustive review, I didn’t just stick to the specialties of the house (or castle, if you will). I don’t know when I’ll make it back out there, so I just ordered everything I could.

“I can do the Freak, the Patty Duke, and the Spank/
Gotta free the funky fish from the funky fish tanks.”
The Beastie Boys, “Finger Lickin’ Good” (1992)

“Don’t forget the tartar sauce, yo, cause it’s sad/
All these crab rappers, they’re rappin’ like crabs.”
The Beastie Boys, “Too Many Rappers” (2011)

This was the panko-crusted fish slider ($2.09), served on the same soft, steamed slider bun with a slice of American cheese. I figured I would try it, because I have some nostalgic love for McDonald’s ol’ Filet-O-Fish, and I think Culver’s has a legitimately GREAT fast food fried fish sandwich. This one wasn’t as good as either of those. I’m relieved that this fish wasn’t funky, but it was a little sad. The Beastie Boys were correct: tartar sauce would have improved it immensely, as it elevates those two superior fried fish sandwiches.

“Which came first, the chicken or the egg?/
I egged the chicken, and then I ate his leg!”
–The Beastie Boys, “Eggman” (1989)

The Chicken Ring slider ($1.89) wasn’t anything special. White Castle serves highly processed white meat Chicken Rings, like their own version of nuggets, but I found this slider with two Chicken Rings and a little slice of American cheese to be bland and tasteless. I wouldn’t bother getting it again. If you happen to like the Chicken Rings, you can also order them as a side, like the fries and onion chips, and not just in one size.

“Now we be grillin’ cheese and flippin’ flapjacks/
With the diamond stylus, yo, we cutting wax.”
The Beastie Boys, “3 the Hard Way” (2004)

“To the heart of the matter, the mic I shatter/
So cold on the mic, I make your teeth chatter/
You climb the corporate ladder/
To make your pockets fatter/
We be flipping styles like pancake batter.”
The Beastie Boys, “Say It” (2011)

White Castle also serves breakfast all day, and I felt obligated to try its versions of breakfast sandwiches. Instead of standard breakfast sliders on the same steamed buns, I opted for two Belgian waffle sliders ($2.69 each): one with bacon, egg, and cheese, and one with sausage, egg, and cheese. These were heavier and greasier than any of the other sliders I ate, and I can’t say I loved them. I think the waffles would have been better if they were a little crispier and a little sweeter to counterbalance the salty meat, egg, and cheese, like McDonald’s McGriddles (which are trashy junk food for sure, but satisfying and delicious). As it was, the waffles were mostly just greasy and doughy.

The sausage was a standard breakfast sausage patty where salt and sage were the main flavors, but I preferred it to the bacon, which didn’t add much. Don’t let me dissuade you from trying these for yourself, stalwart Saboscrivnerinos, but I wouldn’t get them again.

“I’m not walking around, looking to get you cake/
The D is for Diamonds, not for Drake’s.”
The Beastie Boys, “Oh Word?” (2004)

I had to try White Castle’s three desserts on-a-stick: birthday cake on-a-stick, fudge-dipped brownie on-a-stick, and fudge-dipped cheesecake on-a-stick ($1.29 each). I brought these home to share with my wife, because I was too full to touch them at the restaurant.

They were really tiny and cute, but we both thought they were all waaaay too sweet. The cheesecake (bottom right) was by far the best, because it had a slight acidic tang and a moist graham cracker crust. I wouldn’t bother to get the other two again, but at least they were moist and not dry, like I was expecting.

“Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out/
What-wha-what-what-what’s it all about/
Work-wa-work-work-work-wa-work it out/
Let’s turn this motherfucking party out.”
The Beastie Boys, “Ch-Check It Out” (2004)

So after all my years on the planet, I finally made my pilgrimage to one of America’s oldest and most iconic fast food restaurants, a favorite choice of late-night partiers, fictional stoners (and surely some real ones too), and one of my all-time favorite hip hop groups. Did White Castle live up to the decades of hype, especially from my beloved Beastie Boys’ enthusiastic endorsements? It did, absolutely — at least the iconic sliders, the fries, and the onion chips. Everything else, the tangential items, weren’t anything special to me, and I wouldn’t bother with them again, but I don’t regret trying them either. Longtime readers know how much I love trying new things. Even if I don’t always love everything I eat, I live for novelty, especially new eating experiences.

When we first learned White Castle was opening in Orlando, almost two years ago, a lot of the usual online suspects were skeptical and dismissive. It’s just fast food, they said. It’s cheap, greasy, salty, unhealthy, low-quality fast food — nothing to get excited about. Well, I have to agree with all of their statements in the previous sentence, except I argue that it is worth getting excited about. For transplants from up north, especially New York and New Jersey (and we sure have plenty of them here), White Castle brings a nostalgic taste of home to Orlando at last. For born-and-raised Floridians who have never had it before, it might be fast food, and it might be a chain, but at least it’s something new in this area that’s going to be slightly different from everything else here, so let’s let them enjoy it. Plus, it is employing local people! And for people like me who were already inclined to like White Castle due to loving the sliders at Krystal and Miami’s last remaining Royal Castle, and who could probably spit most of the verses from License to Ill, it was a long-overdue culinary experience, literally decades in the making. I don’t know when I’ll return to this White Castle — probably not unless a visiting friend desperately wants to try it — but I’m so happy it’s here now, and so relieved to have finally made it. So check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out!

Tight Chips: New Aldi and Fresh Market potato chip flavors

This week I’m back with another edition of Tight Chips, a recurring feature on The Saboscrivner, where I review new and interesting potato chips and other store-bought snacks.

This time I’m focusing on some new store brand chips I purchased over the last few months at Aldi and The Fresh Market. I’ve raved about Aldi before, and for the last few years, I do most of our grocery shopping there. It’s cheaper than any other grocery store, and it mostly carries high-quality private label products — groceries and other goods produced by other manufacturers (often familiar ones), then rebranded with Aldi’s own store brands. Some of them are “Aldi Finds” that only appear for a week, or as long as supplies last, and then vanish just as quickly. Weekly ads run from Wednesday through Tuesday, so make sure you check the ads online and hit store starting on Wednesday to track down the Aldi Finds while you can.

Most of Aldi’s potato chips and snacks are sold under the Clancy’s private label, including these two delicious new potato chip flavors inspired by cocktails enjoyed at brunch: Bloody Mary and Moscow Mule. Both of these are crunchy, “krinkle-cut” chips, with thicker ridges than Ruffles, and of course they were limited-time Aldi finds.

Here is the nutrition info for the Bloody Mary chips. Bloody Mary cocktails are usually made with worcestershire sauce, a tasty and versatile condiment that adds a funky umami element to anything, in part due to containing anchovies. I love cooking with anchovies. They add even saltiness and umami, especially when you saute bitter vegetables like broccoli rabe (aka rapini) and broccolini (aka baby broccoli). I’ve never had a Bloody Mary, but I can’t imagine they would be as beloved as they are by brunchers everywhere if they tasted like salty cured fish. Seems like an instant ticket to acid reflux, but what do I know? Anyway, vegetarians don’t have to worry, because the ingredients specifically state they use anchovy-free worcestershire sauce.

These were better than I expected. Tangy, tomatoey, a little bit spicy. I love these flavors in general, and especially on chips. They are kind of like barbecue chips, but with a sharper flavor, and less sweet. They would be great dunked in a tangy blue cheese dip or a creamy spinach-artichoke dip, but I didn’t have any.

Next up, we have the Moscow Mule chips, so here is the nutrition info for those. These chips were a pleasant surprise too. I gave up drinking before ever trying a real Moscow mule, but the cocktail contains vodka, spicy ginger beer, and lime juice, and is served in a copper mug. Note that the ingredients list lemon juice powder rather than lime juice powder, as well as citric acid for a sour, puckery punch.

These really do taste like ginger and citrus! They are a little sweet, a little sour, a little spicy, and surprisingly refreshing. Even if you don’t care about the drink, it’s a nice flavor combination that makes me think of a sunny summer day.

Aldi has a different private label called Specially Selected for serious gourmet goodies — everything from fancy preserves and holiday-themed sweets to frozen meals and decadent desserts, plus occasional new chips. These are also Aldi Finds that pop up randomly, and they can be gone, baby, gone just as quickly. I found these Specially Selected Pancetta and Parmesan kettle chips back in early March:

Vegetarians, note that these contain dairy, but no pork or other meat!

These chips were savory and a little smoky, but all the flavors were subtle. They really did smell and taste like pancetta, that wonderful cured Italian meat that is like unsmoked bacon, which can miraculously improve so many recipes. They had a little bit of funky umami flavor from parmesan cheese as well.

Another good grocery store that I don’t shop at nearly as often is The Fresh Market, which is more of an upscale, gourmet supermarket, similar to Whole Foods, but generally a little smaller and a lot less “hippie-ish.” Shopping there really is a pleasure. The stores aren’t overly bright, they pipe in classical music, and they have a lot of delicious food you can’t buy anywhere else. Their groceries tend to be on the pricey side, but they run some decent sales and often put good products on clearance, so you want to be on the lookout and stock up on things when you can. The Fresh Market has its own store brand for all kinds of products, including snacks and even potato chips. I don’t recall being tempted by them before, but All Dressed potato chips recently caught my eye, and I couldn’t resist. This is a terrific flavor that is popular in Canada, but very rare here in the States. Frito-Lay has released All Dressed Ruffles before, but that’s all I can recall, until now.

These are thinner potato chips, very similar to Lay’s, which is my favorite texture and mouth-feel for chips. They went heavy with the All Dressed seasoning, and they are fantastic. The bag doesn’t lie — they are sweet, tangy, savory, smoky, spicy, vinegary, and vaguely tomatoey. They are kind of like a combination of barbecue and salt and vinegar chip flavors, and I think that’s a winning combination. If you like Zapp’s Voodoo chips, All Dressed is similar to those. Tremendous flavor. I highly recommend these!

The three Aldi flavors are almost certainly already gone, but Aldi brings old favorites back throughout the year. I’m always on the lookout for the triumphant return of their Park Street Deli atomic spicy and sweet horseradish pickles and their maple-vanilla whipped cream around the holidays. I’ve seen these chip flavors more than once, so just follow the weekly ads and stay vigilant. I even bought my record player at Aldi, a neat little Crosley knockoff that transforms into a briefcase and even has a USB port for digitizing your vinyl collection, and those tend to show up around Mother’s Day every year.

The Fresh Market All Dressed chips should still be around, and I suggest running, not walking, to get those in your life sooner rather than later… so you can burn calories and allow yourself to eat more Tight Chips!

Tight Chips: Lay’s Flavor Icons potato chips

As longtime Saboscrivner readers and any of my real-life friends already know, I am a sucker for potato chips, especially new, interesting, and exotic flavors, and I review them under the Tight Chips heading (formerly Grocery Grails). Chips and other salty, crunchy snacks are my favorite junk foods, and I can voraciously devour a bag before realizing what happened. That makes them dangerous… and it makes me dangerous too.

So in spite of the danger, when Lay’s rolls out new potato chip flavors, I always go on a quest to track them down. They are always hard to find at first, and I love the thrill of the hunt — my old toy collector impulses never abandoning me. I also know the new flavors rarely last, so I want to taste them while I can, before they disappear forever.

This summer, Lay’s rolled out five new potato chip flavors branded as Flavor Icons, inspired by regional dishes from restaurants around the United States:

Nashville Hot Chicken from Party Fowl in Nashville, Tennessee.
New York Style Pizza from Grimaldi’s Pizzeria in Brooklyn, New York.
Carnitas Street Taco from El Torito in Marina del Rey, California.
Philly Cheesesteak from Geno’s Steaks in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
Chile Relleno from Cocina Azul in Albuquerque, NM.

I haven’t been to any of these restaurants, but those are five meals that are easy to love, no matter where you order them.

If you want to try these, but don’t want to get stuck with a big bag of chips you might not like, or don’t want to feel too guilty about eating a whole big bag, you can almost always count on Walgreens to find smaller bags of new Frito-Lay chips. They came through for three out of the five Flavor Icons: Nashville Hot Chicken, New York Style Pizza, and Carnitas Street Taco.

Here’s the nutrition info for the Carnitas Street Taco-flavored Wavy Lay’s. Note that they contain pork and bacon fat!

And a look inside at the Wavy Lay’s. I don’t care for the ridged texture as much as the classic thin potato chip we associate with the Lay’s brand.
For some reason, these tasted saltier than any of the others, and were also the blandest. I detected lots of onion and a vague porky scent and essence, but I didn’t pick up on the cheese that is listed in the ingredients. In fact, I never would have concluded “Ah yes, carnitas!” But I have to admit, whenever I’m at a taqueria or Mexican restaurant, I’m much less likely to order carnitas (pan-fried pork) when I have other juicier, more flavorful meat options, like marinated al pastor pork, chorizo sausage, or shredded, braised brisket.

Here’s the Nashville Hot Chicken nutrition info. They contain bacon fat and chicken fat!

Now I LOVE Nashville hot chicken, and I’m glad it has become a foodie trend, including here in Orlando. I first had it at one of the most famous destinations in Nashville in 2018: not the aforementioned Party Fowl, but the legendary Hattie B’s, where even the “medium” set my mouth on fire. Since then, I have sung the praises of Nashville hot chicken here in town at Swine & Sons (it was one of my favorite local dishes in 2019), Chicken Fire, and Git-N-Messy BBQ. (Disclaimer: Git-N-Messy BBQ didn’t offer Nashville hot chicken when I wrote my review, but it is amazing, and I’ve tried so many new dishes there since then, I need to write a more detailed and updated review.)

So here’s a close-up of the chips. Credit for this photo goes to my friend David Zubkoff. More on that in a little bit.
They have a nice fiery burn that was most reminiscent of cayenne pepper, but more pleasant than Frito-Lay’s ubiquitous “Flamin’ Hot” flavor that burns going in and coming out, and more bearable than the Habanero flavor too. Aside from those two, which I am not a huge fan of, it is one of the spicier chip flavors I’ve ever tried. One thing I am a huge fan of is sauteing chicken skins low and slow, to crisp them up into gribenes (like chicken chips or chicharrones) and then rendering the fat, or schmaltz, to cook with later. These chips reminded me of very spicy crispy chicken skins, so props to Lay’s for that.

Next up, here’s the nutrition info for the New York Style Pizza chips. Lots of dairy ingredients in these, so vegans stay away, but no meat.

Now I LOVE New York-style pizza. Everyone has their own strong opinions about pizza, but it’s hard to go wrong with thin, crispy, huge slices topped with gooey, melty cheese and robust sauce seasoned with oregano and garlic. Some of my favorite New York-style slices in Orlando comes from Pizzeria Del Dio, Paradiso Restaurant and Pizzeria, Tornatore’s Cafe and Pizzeria, Tomasino’s New York Pizzeria, Tuscany Pizza (review coming soon), Pizzeria Valdiano, and Antonella’s.

So here’s a close-up of the NY Pizza-flavored chips themselves. These are the only ones that are thicker chips, branded as Lay’s Kettle Cooked. And you know what? These are awesome. They taste like tomato, cheese, garlic, and oregano, and you can’t go wrong with that. I like that the kettle-style chips weren’t so thick and crunchy as to be hard to bite, or to have too many sharp, mouth-shredding edges. They had a great texture and an excellent flavor profile. Moreso than the first two flavors, I ate these and immediately though “Hey, these taste like pizza! Nailed it!”

Next up is the Chile Relleno flavor, which is supposed to be exclusively sold at Walmart and 7-Eleven. I searched for these chips for a few weeks, but have yet to see them anywhere in Orlando. Luckily, my aforementioned friend David from Boston hooked me up, mailing me two bags out of the kindness of his heart. (In return, I mailed him the Nashville Hot Chicken chips, and was kind enough to take that picture above, because I devoured my own bag and forgot to photograph the actual chips.)

Once again, the nutrition info, with dairy ingredients, but no meat:

When I go to a Tex-Mex or Mexican restaurant, I tend to judge it if they don’t offer a chile relleno on the menu, and then it serves as a good barometer of the restaurant’s overall quality. A lot of them use poblano peppers*, first roasting them, then stuffing them with cheese (and occasionally meat), dipping them in a eggy batter, and then deep-frying them. It can be a thing of beauty. And fear not, spice skeptics — these aren’t spicy peppers. The poblano is lower on the Scoville scale than even jalapeños, so don’t worry about not being able to take the heat.

*However, one of my stalwart Saboscrivnerinos, the sensational Savanna, just let me know that most restaurants in New Mexico, including Cocina Azul itself, use New Mexican green chiles instead of poblanos in their chile rellenos, which really makes a lot of sense.

Here’s a close-up of these chips. I liked these a lot. I don’t know if my brain would have automatically gone to “chile relleno,” but I did taste pepper that had a familiar and comforting roasted flavor, a little piquant but definitely not spicy. And there was cheese in there too. Well played, Lay’s!

I could only find the Philly Cheesesteak-flavored chips in a larger bag:

Once again, the nutrition info. These contain beef, so watch out, vegetarians!

I’ve been to Philadelphia twice, and it’s a great food city, but this might sound sacrilegious: there are better sandwiches to be found and eaten there. I’d much rather have an Italian roast pork sandwich with sharp provolone and bitter broccoli rabe, perfected by DiNic’s in Philly’s Reading Terminal Market (one of my favorite foodie destinations in the world) and recreated wonderfully here in Orlando at one of the best new restaurants to open this year, Uncommon Catering. I’d also rather eat an Italian hoagie (or sub, hero, grinder, whatever, but in Philly, it’s always a hoagie). Once again, the best one I had in Philadelphia was also at the Reading Terminal Market, at Salumeria, which sadly closed after my last visit. But here in Orlando, you can get my favorite Italian hoagie and the city’s finest cheesesteak at one of my favorite local establishments, LaSpada’s.

Anyway, back to the chips, which I also forgot to take a photo of. They tasted the most like cheese and onion, and you can’t have a Philly cheesesteak without them. Well, you could, but it wouldn’t be the same. I detected some general “grilled meat” flavor, so they did what they set out to do.

Instead of snacking on these chips, I used this large bag to bake potato chip-crusted chicken thighs in the oven on the convection setting. They came out tender, crispy, and delicious, even after being reheated in the toaster oven over the next few days. Why did I use the Philly Cheesesteak chips and not the Nashville Hot Chicken-flavored ones? Subversive, right? Because I had a much larger bag of these, and I thought the strong flavors of cheese and onion would work well with chicken. If you’re wondering about the two pieces on the right, I ran out of crushed chips and had to use Italian bread crumbs for those. They were pretty good too, but not as good.

So that’s my rundown of Lay’s five new Flavor Icons, so get them while they last! Unlike past years where we were “treated” to Biscuits & Gravy- and Cappuccino-flavored potato chips, there wasn’t a dud in this bunch. Your mileage will surely vary, but I thought the Carnitas Street Taco was the blandest and most forgettable, and my far-and-away favorite was the New York-Style Pizza flavor. In fact, it was my favorite new potato chip flavor I’ve tried in a long time. I do love tomatoey chips, though. I’m always up for anyone’s version of sweet, smoky, tangy, tomatoey barbecue chips, I was a huge fan of Lay’s Garden Tomato and Basil chips until they discontinued those, I am a sucker for Herr’s Ketchup chips (a Canadian favorite, eh?), and I recently reviewed “Burger Toppings” chips from Sprouts supermarket, which tasted like ketchup, mustard, and pickles in the best possible way. But even though I’m still sad about the loss of Garden Tomato and Basil Lay’s all these years later, New York-Style Pizza Lay’s reign supreme, and I hope they stick around for a good long time.

Tight Chips: Whole Foods 365 sandwich-flavored potato chips

I’ve been meaning to review more of the random grocery purchases I’ve tried, when I discover something worth recommending. Sometimes little treats and new discoveries are enough to get us through the day. But that should be a special Saboscrivner feature that deserves a special name, so I went with Grocery Grails because I love alliteration and assonance as much as Silver Age Stan Lee. But for when I focus on one of my favorite foods, potato chips, I have an even more special heading: Tight Chips.

As one of the biggest lovers of sandwiches and new chip flavors, I recently made my first post-quarantine trip to Whole Foods to track down these new sandwich-flavored potato chips from their 365 house brand. I rarely shop at Whole Foods (more like “Whole Paycheck,” am I right?), but these were on sale for a very reasonable $2.39 each, and let’s face it, I probably would have paid more for them and been happy to do it.

Cuban Press ingredients:

Italian Hoagie ingredients:

Pastrami on Rye ingredients. Vegetarians, take note of the beef stock in these chips:

Here are the chips. All three flavors look exactly the same, so there was no purpose to posting three nearly-identical pictures:

They are thinner potato chips like Lay’s, not super-thick, crunchy kettle chips. I actually prefer this consistency. They are easier on my gums, too.

Unfortunately, none of them tasted much like the sandwiches that inspired them. I definitely picked up the flavors of pickles, mustard, and a smoky flavor reminiscent of ham in the Cuban Press chips (and seriously, has anyone ever called a Cuban sandwich or Cubano a “Cuban Press”?). The Pastrami on Rye chips reminded me of smoke, pepper, and the vinegary tang of sauerkraut, but unfortunately the Italian Hoagie chips were the least like their inspiration, with a subtle taste of Italian herbs, maybe a bit of tomato and vinegar. They were all exceedingly salty, even by potato chip standards, to the point where I was thinking “Enough, already!”

So if you’re anything like me and you love to try new and novel chip flavors, I highly recommend them for that purpose. But go in with tempered expectations and don’t expect them to rock your tastebuds or change your life for the better. My best advice is to seek out the actual sandwiches and pair them with some of your favorite chips, no matter what they are. (What are your favorites, anyway? The Saboscrivner is always interested in what other people are eating.) But for sandwiches in the Orlando area, I recommend Italian hoagies from LaSpada’s Original Philly Cheese Steaks and Hoagies (specifically the LaSpada’s Famous), Stasio’s Italian Deli and Market (the Stasio), and Manzano’s Deli (the Rocco). You can get a great pastrami on rye from Pickles Delicatessen in Longwood, and the biggest and best Cuban sandwich I’ve ever had in Orlando is from one of my recent discoveries, College Park Cafe.

Chain Reactions: Skyline Chili (Fort Lauderdale)

Skyline Chili (https://www.skylinechili.com/) is a chain restaurant started by Greek immigrant Nicholas Lambrinides in Cincinnati, Ohio, in 1949. Cincinnati chili is very different from any other kind of chili you’ve tried before. There are no beans in it, it’s not spicy, and it’s a relatively thin meat sauce with finely ground beef — not thick or chunky. In addition to ground beef, it contains tomato paste, tomato sauce, onions, garlic, cider vinegar, and cumin, which sounds normal enough so far. But HOLD ONTO YOUR HATS, because Cincinnati chili ain’t Cincinnati chili without cinnamon, cloves, allspice, Worcestershire sauce, and maybe a bit of unsweetened baker’s chocolate, if you wanna get nuts. YOU WANNA GET NUTS? COME ON! LET’S GET NUTS!

At Skyline and its Midwestern rivals like Gold Star Chili, you can order chili by the bowl, topping a hot dog (Skyline calls them Coneys), or served in a “3-Way” (spaghetti, chili, and bright orange, finely shredded cheddar cheese), a “4-Way” (a 3-Way topped with onions or beans), or a “5-Way” (a 3-Way topped with onions and beans). I find the names hilariously ironic, because most people wouldn’t fare very well in a 3-way after eating a 3-Way, at least not for long. And don’t even bother trying any kind of way after a 5-Way!

Good thing I never bothered to monetize this blog, because I’ll probably lose multiple subscribers after this review, and we all know I don’t have that many to begin with.

Anyway, there are a few Skyline locations in Florida, but none here in Orlando. I’ve eaten at the one in Naples and two in South Florida (Sunrise and the one I’m reviewing here, in Fort Lauderdale), and there are others in Clearwater, Bradenton, and Fort Myers. All the others are in Ohio, Kentucky, and Indiana. Come on, Skyline! Orlando gets tourists from all around the world, including the Midwest. Send your 3-Ways our way!

I drove down to South Florida at the beginning of March, shortly before COVID-19 became a serious concern, to visit my family and best friend in Miami for the first time in far too long. I also had the sad experience of attending a friend’s funeral in Fort Lauderdale on my way down. By the time it ended, I needed to center myself before driving the last hour down to my parents’ house in Kendall, a Miami suburb. I was running on empty — emotionally drained, hungry, and craving comfort food. And what did I discover mere minutes from the service? A rare Skyline Chili sighting. Of course I had to stop, since I haven’t been to one in many years.

You know what’s interesting? Cincinnati’s chili restaurants like Skyline and Gold Star are usually referred to as “chili parlors” up there. These days, not a lot happens in parlors. You hear about parlor games and parlor tricks, but there’s an old-timey connotation to those. Of course there are ice cream parlors, but that’s pretty much it for food. And then there are funeral parlors, so don’t think I missed the significance of going from a funeral straight to a chili parlor.

This location (the Skyline Chili parlor, I should clarify) was set up like a diner, with regular tables, but also a counter with a row of stools facing the open kitchen. I always like to sit at the counter when it’s an option and I’m alone, so I parked on a stool and ordered a cheese Coney (Skyline’s small, chili and cheese-covered hot dogs) as an appetizer. It took less than a minute for the Coney to be served in front of me — a tiny hot dog on a soft, steamed bun with a squirt of yellow mustard, topped with the hearty chili, diced raw onions, and a mountain of almost neon orange shredded cheddar.

My kind and thoughtful waitress was thoughtful enough to offer me a disposable plastic bib. This was a godsend, considering I was still wearing my good black suit, white dress shirt, and skinny black tie from the funeral I had just come from. I was really worried about how I was going to get out of this restaurant without dripping, splashing, or splattering myself, and the bib greatly improved my chances of avoiding besmirchment.

Anyway, the cheese Coney was glorious. Everything my mind and mouth needed, even if my body might possibly regret it later. I could have put away a half-dozen of those, but I had another hour to drive before making it to my parents’ house. Don’t worry, though — I wasn’t done yet.

Yes, there was a hot dog under all that:

I couldn’t leave Fort Lauderdale without enjoying a nice 3-Way, and that was when I saw a sign advertising an “extreme” habanero and cheddar cheese blend as an alternative to the classic cheddar, advising curious diners to “turn up the heat.” So I got that, because if you’re going to have a 3-Way, you might as well make it as hot and extreme as possible. Again, moments later, it was in front of me, steaming, melting, fragrant spicy messy tempting.

This makes quite a mess, as you might expect from a 3-Way, but there were so many flavors and textures to enjoy, and the slower you go, the more sticky and melty everything gets. Thank goodness for that bib! But it totally hit the spot — my first Skyline fix in almost a decade, and on an afternoon where I really needed some uplift.

I should note that my entire bill for the cheese Coney, the 3-Way, and a fountain soda was only $12.70, which seems like a bargain at twice the price.

I should note that the Internet abounds with Cincinnati chili recipes. I’ve even tried some of them, and they’re all decent, if not identical to Skyline’s secret recipe. You can’t go wrong with those basic ingredients. Even if the idea of putting a little cinnamon and unsweetened chocolate in your chili sounds weird and wrong, step out of your culinary comfort zone, because you might discover you like it weird and wrong, and that weird and wrong is really so, so right.

You can also find Skyline Chili at some Publix supermarkets in the frozen food case, and I’ve even seen it in cans at Walmart, near the other canned chili like Hormel and Wolf Brand. It’s an acquired taste, and one I’m sure not all my readers will love, but I believe in trying everything once, and often twice… just to be sure. If you find the frozen or canned Skyline, you can even assemble a 3-Way in the comfort and safety of your own home and try it once for yourselves. Just keep The Saboscrivner in your thoughts while you experiment!

In fact, I’ve been cooking at home so much during this quarantine, writing this review inspired me to make my own Cincinnati-style chili with one of the many Skyline “copycat” recipes that are out there. I used a pound of ground chuck AND a pound of ground turkey, canned tomato sauce but no paste, added cinnamon and unsweetened chocolate I ground with my box grater, and even ground my own cloves and allspice berries in a small coffee grinder I use exclusively for spices. I let the chili sit in the fridge for almost two days before trying it, and that allowed me to skim a lot of the orange congealed fat off the top. Then I served it over good quality Flora brand spaghetti with a blend of extra-sharp cheddar and habanero cheddar that I shredded myself, and it was fantastic. It was thicker than Skyline’s, which I appreciated, and also spicier due to adding a little more cayenne pepper than the recipe I found called for, plus the habanero cheddar to turn up the heat and make it extreme. My cheese (Cabot brand) didn’t melt as quickly or as well as Skyline’s cheese, but my spaghetti was more al dente, and the whole concoction tasted great. Since I used two pounds of meat, I’ll be enjoying 3-Ways at home for the next several days.

Big Time Street Food

NOTE: Big Time Street Food closed in May 2020, just months after I wrote this review.

Big Time Street Food (https://www.bigtimestreetfood.co/) was on my list of newer places to try for the longest time. Located in hip and pretty Thornton Park, near downtown Orlando, it is connected to Burton’s Bar and even shares a door with the neighborhood watering hole. But I emphasize neighborhood, because both places really are meant for residents of the immediate neighborhood due to a major lack of nearby parking spaces. Over the last year or so, I’ve done several “drive-bys” of Big Time Street Food, hoping to find a nearby parking space so I could finally try the food, to no avail.

But back in early January, I had a chance to see hip-hop legend KRS-One perform at The Abbey, a downtown concert and event venue located a few blocks away from Big Time. I made sure to park in a convenient garage located between the two and headed to Big Time first, to eat a giant, heavy meal before a long and late concert. (I’ve been to hundreds of concerts and totally know better, but this was my best chance to finally make it here, Saboscrivenerinos. You’re welcome!)

Big Time Street Food is a very small and casual space. You order at the counter and can then sit on one of the few stools at a counter, or go next door to Burton’s, and they bring you your order when it’s ready. I studied the menu in advance, but couldn’t decide between two things. My Constant Readers can take a wild guess as to what I did next — yes, I ordered both!

This is the Holy Chicken sandwich ($7.99). You’re staring at an extra large, fresh-fried chicken thigh, a generous amount of dill pickle slices (after a long quest, I finally like most pickles!), and lightly spicy “gochu-mayo” on a soft, lightly-griddled sweet potato roll. It’s like an artisanal version of the beloved Popeyes spicy chicken sandwich, and yes, it’s better.

Despite knowing I was going to have to stand in the same place for several hours, and despite knowing how gross club restrooms can be (especially when you’re in desperate need of one), I couldn’t stop myself from also ordering the Chorizo Montoya burger ($7.99). This beauty contains a “smash burger” patty, chorizo sausage, oaxaca cheese, avocado, grilled onion, roasted tomato aioli on the same soft, lightly griddled bun. It was a damn fine burger I’d rank alongside Orlando’s finest.

Believe it or not, I had every intention of eating half of the chicken sandwich and half of the burger, and putting the other halves back in my car, because luckily it was a cool evening. But in true Saboscrivner fashion, I devoured both while they were at their hottest and freshest. I have no regrets now, and luckily I didn’t have any regrets during the concert either.

It ended up being a really fun night. I arrived early enough to get right up next to the stage to see several opening rappers, followed by the trailblazing teacher KRS-One, who exploded out of the Bronx in the late ’80s as the star of Boogie Down Productions, before becoming a vaunted solo MC throughout the ’90s. I suspect many Saboscrivnerinos might recognize KRS-One from the closing rap verse on REM’s “Radio Song,” the first track off their 1991 album Out of Time, or maybe as the subject of Sublime’s respectful tribute to the master himself, “KRS-One.” A socially-conscious, spiritual, and political rapper, he concerned himself with educating and empowering his listeners, spitting cautionary tales that warn against crime, violence, and police brutality. I highly recommend the compilation album A Retrospective as the perfect gateway to his finest work. And I’m thrilled to report he is still teaching lessons today (when we need his voice more than ever), without slowing down or missing a beat.

And after wolfing down two delicious sandwiches from Big Time Street Food directly before the show, I was relieved to not have miss a beat either.

Mrs. Potato

I’ve been hearing good things about the Brazilian restaurant Mrs. Potato (https://www.mrspotato.net/) for years. Located at the busy intersection of Conroy and South Kirkman Roads, Mrs. Potato opened in 2012, but earned well-deserved national acclaim when it was featured on Food Network’s Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives in 2017. Chef-owner Rafaela Cabede has been a regular, pleasant presence on the Orlando Foodie Forum on Facebook, and I’ve always meant to make it out there to try it, but it’s pretty far from me. Luckily, on a recent trip to the mall (something I usually dread), my wife and I decided to give it a shot. As a toy collector, I should have taken a photo of their wall of Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head figurines, but we were both so hungry, it didn’t even occur to me until it was too late.

There were three things I really wanted to try on Mrs. Potato’s menu: chicken catupiry, carne seca, and calabresa sausage. You can get all three of them stuffed inside rosti potatoes, a Swiss dish that is essentially a giant stuffed hash brown, but I couldn’t possibly eat three separate rostis, much less justify ordering them. (As you will learn, I couldn’t even finish one.) But you can also get two of those things inside Brazilian empanadas called pasteles. I always love empanadas, so I ordered two of those to share with my wife ($4.50 each), and saved the third filling for the rosti. I was pleased that the pasteles have a golden-fried, crispy flour shell, similar to the Cuban empanadas I grew up with, but quite a bit bigger.

The first pastel I cut open was not one of the ones I ordered! It contained ground beef, hard-boiled eggs, and olives, reminding me a bit of Cuban picadillo. I told our server I didn’t order the ground beef pastel, and she whisked it away immediately. I wish I had eaten my half, or at least taken a bite to try it, because I’m sure it ended up in the trash. I hate wasting food, even if it isn’t my fault. Weeks later, and I still feel bad about this.

This was one of the ones I ordered: seasoned, pulled chicken with catupiry, a soft, creamy, tangy Brazilian cheese. It was delicious. Chicken and cheese are sure to please.

We both liked this pastel with carne seca, Brazilian cured beef jerky with a bit of cream cheese. It was more like shredded, braised beef than the dry, chewy jerky I’m used to — kind of like the Cuban dish ropa vieja, but not tomatoey like that. It was very good. Guy Fieri raved about the carne seca on his show, and I get it.

My wife loves steak, so she ordered the picanha ($18.99), which is top sirloin, cooked rare. It came out more medium rare, but was still very tender and well-seasoned. Her sides included yucca fries that we both thought were just okay, and also twice-dipped, Belgian-style French fries, which were among the best fries we’ve ever had! I’m not surprised that a “potato house” restaurant would have good fries, but these were better than good. They are definitely among the best fries in Orlando. When you visit Mrs. Potato, don’t miss them, even if you order another potato dish!

Anyway, I ordered another potato dish: the aforementioned rosti ($14). It is huge, and more than a little intimidating! I always argue that Waffle House has the best hash browns anywhere, but the rosti was like a serious gourmet version of those.

After trying the chicken catupiry and carne seca in pasteles, the third thing I wanted to try was the calabresa sausage, so I got that stuffed inside my rosti. The sausage came crumbled inside that mountain of crispy shredded potatoes, along with melty mozzarella and provolone cheeses and thin-sliced sauteed onions. I should have asked about the sausage, since I was expecting slices or larger chunks of an Italian-style sausage, due to the name, not crumbles. But it was tasty, don’t get me wrong. A tomato-based sauce would have worked really well here, but not ketchup. I might put ketchup on my Waffle House hash browns, but these were crying out for a finer caliber of red sauce. It was still delicious — just super-heavy. The rosti, stuffed with sausage, cheese, and onions, is a meal you need a nap after eating, and I only ate about half of it at the restaurant and took the rest to go.

Whenever there’s a new or unfamiliar soda, I have to try it. I’m sure I could have found Guarana Antarctica at Bravo Supermarket (and maybe even Publix), but it was here ($2.75), and I was thirsty. It tasted a little like fruit (but not any specific, identifiable fruit, since I’ve never tried guarana berries on their own), and a little like bubble gum or cotton candy. It was unique, yet strangely familiar. Not sure if I would get it again, but I’m not sorry I tried it.

For dessert, my wife ordered the churros ($4). It came with an order of two, but she grabbed one before I could snap this shot. I took one bite, and it was an okay churro with plenty of cinnamon and sugar dusted on its crevice-covered surface.
However, the warm, rich caramel sauce they came with was one of the most delicious sweet things I’ve ever tried. She wasn’t into it, so that ended up being my dessert, which I scooped up with the teeny-tiny spoon.

I wrote this review on one of those rare Orlando days when we have some chilly weather, and I saw Mrs. Potato is offering an all-you-can-eat Soup Festival in the evenings for $14.99. I was disappointed that wasn’t an option at lunch, because when we were there, I totally could have gone for all-you-can-slurp soups — not so much for eating soup until I’m sick, but because I love trying new things. I reached out to Rafaela on Facebook and asked what kinds of soups are available in the Soup Festival, and she replied that these are the four everyday soups:
• Black Bean Soup
• Portuguese Sausage and Kale Soup (Caldo Verde)
• Creamy Heart of Palm
• Loaded Potato Soup

But on any given day, there would be four other rotating soups, including these and more:
• Creamy Corn, Chicken and Bacon
• Broccoli and Cheese
• Beef and Vegetables Soup
• Peanut Butter Cream (sweet)

Anyway, Mrs. Potato (or Mrs. Po-TAH-to, if you must) serves really delicious Brazilian comfort food, with an emphasis on the potatoes. There are baked potatoes on the menu too, with the same variety of toppings, but I strongly recommend the rostis, since that’s such a unique dish, compared to baked potatoes you could get almost anywhere. And don’t miss the pasteles, those amazing fries, and that caramel sauce!

Chain Reactions: Popeyes

My readers may have heard some news a while back about a certain fried chicken sandwich controversy. Barely three months ago, the Louisiana-based fried chicken chain Popeyes (https://www.popeyes.com/), came out with a chicken sandwich for the first time ever, upending the balance of power in fast food chicken sandwiches and making people everywhere lose their damn minds.

Almost everyone I know either tried the Popeyes chicken sandwich and loved it (like my best friend down in Miami), or tried to, but were foiled every time by long lines and stores selling out (like me). There were some haters too — either loyalists to the long-standing chicken sandwich champion, or people who claim to never eat fast food for any number of legitimate reasons (which is all good, but they might miss out on something tasty). And almost as quickly as the hype grew around this sandwich for those two or three weeks in the late summer, Popeyes pulled it from their menus everywhere, and life moved on. I ended up discovering and reviewing the greatest chicken sandwiches I’ve ever had in my life at Winter Park’s own Swine & Sons, and those went a long way toward helping me get over my FOMO.

I was wondering if Popeyes got rid of their biggest hit ever because they weren’t prepared to deal with the insane demand. It might have been a personnel issue — assembling sandwiches has to be more labor-intensive than boxing up the whole pieces of fried chicken, and every Popeyes restaurant I’ve ever been to is always understaffed. It might have been a problem in the supply chain, as there was an annoying ad campaign in the weeks that followed encouraging customers to BYOB, or “Bring Your Own Bun.” Maybe they wanted to create artificial demand through scarcity, but regardless, they listened to the people, because this game-changing chicken sandwich is back now, as of Sunday, November 3rd. And this time, hopefully it’s here to stay.

Constant Readers, I failed you back in August. Even though I had every intention of eating and reviewing this sandwich, I never got my hands or mouth on one in time, and then they were gone. But there’s no way I was going to let you down you again. I got to Popeyes on the morning of November 3rd, shortly after it opened at 10:30 AM, but as you would expect (and I kinda did expect), half of Seminole County had the same idea and was already there.

The drive-through line snaked through the huge shared parking lot at this location, so I parked far away so I wouldn’t get blocked in later, and took my chances waiting inside. This was the smart move. I was back home with my to-go order in just over an hour, and I didn’t have to waste half a tank of gas idling in the car. If you go in the days and weeks to come, expect some wait, but the line definitely moves faster inside. Eventually I got my order, and I was home in fewer than ten minutes, so everything was still hot and crispy.

This was the spicy chicken sandwich, which I loved. The fried chicken breast was juicy and bursting with flavor. I admit I was expecting to be disappointed, because Popeyes chicken can be quite inconsistent. When you get a fresh batch, it’s amazing, but I’ve had far too much sad, dry chicken there. I typically stick to dark meat, particularly thighs, which I think are more flavorful and less likely to get dried out, but this was a really fantastic fried chicken breast. It was huge, too, and the buttermilk-based batter wasn’t just lightly crispy — it was CRUNCHY, even after steaming in its little foil pouch as I raced home. Well-played, Popeyes. I can’t conceive of a better fast food chicken sandwich. I emphasize fast food because even though there are certainly better chicken sandwiches out there (like the Swine & Sons versions), those are $11 while this one is $4, almost one-third of the price. Unfortunately, I thought they were rather stingy with the spicy mayo, and would have loved some more on it.

This was the regular, non-spicy sandwich ($3.99 each without the combo). It should come with mayo as well as pickles, but they left the mayo of both regular sandwiches I ordered — one for myself so I could try both versions, and one for my wife who doesn’t like anything spicy. All three sandwiches came with two thin pickle slices, and now that I’m starting to appreciate pickles more, I would have been happy to get even more pickles on them. By the way, the buns are brioche — soft and fluffy, buttered, and lightly toasted. It’s a fantastic bun to serve this kind of sandwich on.

You mean to tell me you’ve never heard of the Millennium Falcon?

Since my regular chicken sandwich didn’t have any mayo, it was a perfect opportunity to sample two different Popeyes sauces. I cut the sandwich down the middle, making sure there was one pickle slice on each half, and applied one of these sauces to each:

The Mardi Gras Mustard is a creamy Creole-style mustard (savory, but not spicy at all) that went well with the chicken, but the Voodoo Sauce was awesome on the other half. It was thin and runny, sticky, sweet, and slightly spicy — extremely similar to a Thai sweet chili sauce. And it jazzed up that sandwich just perfectly. I should have added a schmear of my own mayo too (I only buy Duke’s), but I wanted to stick to just Popeyes’ own condiments for the purposes of this review.

And here is what might be the very best menu item from any fast food restaurant anywhere: Popeyes red beans and rice ($2.29 if you order the small separately, or it can be one of the sides you pick in your combo meal). This is the perfect, quintessential version of this classic Louisiana dish. Rich, thick, and smoky, it transcends this fast food fried chicken chain and could hold its own against high-tone versions of red beans and rice in some of New Orleans’ finest chef-driven establishments. I know a lot of chefs agree and sing its praises, including Momofuku’s founder and all-around cool dude David Chang.

When I finally got up to the cashier, she kept trying to cut me off and complete my order after every item I ordered. Our conversation went something like this:

“I’d like a spicy chicken sandwich combo, and…”
“Okay, that’ll be $6.99 plus tax.”
“Oh! But I would also like two regular chicken sandwiches, not the combos, and…”
“Okay, that’ll be…”
“Sorry, I wanted red beans and rice as the side for my combo, and also…”
“Beans and rice, gotcha. That’ll be…”
“Sorry, I would also like to try the bourbon fudge pie, and…”
“Adding on the bourbon fudge pie! So your order comes to…”
“NO, WAIT! I’d also like the pumpkin cream cheese pie!”

So yeah, it was a battle, and I ended up apologizing a heck of a lot, unnecessarily (which I do far too often). But they have pie, and I love pie, and I really wanted to share them with my wife and review them for you. But I really had to fight, just to be able to order them!

The bourbon fudge pie ($2.49) is a small slice that we just cut down the middle. The fudgy filling is rich, thick, and damn tasty, but the crust is completely tasteless and serves no real purpose. We weren’t expecting much for $2.49, but it was like a cheap, knockoff version of local Chef Trina Gregory-Propst’s delicious signature dark chocolate sea salt caramel pie at her beloved Orlando restaurant and bakery Se7en Bites. And that pie has the best pie crust ever, so y’all need to make it over there and try hers, maybe even before you try these chicken sandwiches.

The pumpkin cream cheese pie is your typical fast food turnover pie. If you haven’t tried the very similar apple pie at Popeyes, you’ve probably had it at McDonald’s at some point in your life. You might even remember when the McDonald’s apple pies used to be fried to a crisp, back in the ’80s!

Here’s a cross-section: a strip of sweet pumpkin “pie” filling, and a strip of sweetened cream cheese. The crust wasn’t anything special, but still better than the extremely bland, flavorless bourbon fudge pie crust.

Anyway, these chicken sandwiches are so good, I went back a few days later to a different location and waited about 25 minutes, just so I could get another one. I got another spicy boi and asked for extra spicy sauce, but the cashier said there isn’t a button on the register for extra sauce, so they couldn’t do it. That particular sandwich didn’t come with pickles, but it was still mighty fine. Tender and juicy, crispy breading, perfect bun (any burger would be honored to be served on a bun prepared that well), and slightly more of that spicy sauce that really brings everything together.

However, this time I asked for macaroni and cheese as the side, because I know the late, great Anthony Bourdain loved Popeyes mac and cheese, as well as their chicken. I love mac and cheese too, so I had to try it.

The mac and cheese was pretty standard, like what you’d get at a soul food or barbecue place. Very similar to the mac and cheese at Orlando’s homegrown barbecue chain 4 Rivers Smokehouse and its Southern spinoff restaurant The Coop, in fact. Not baked or anything, no bread crumbs or crispy layer of cheese — just al dente elbow macaroni in sticky, gluey, salty orange cheese. I can see it being beloved comfort food, especially for someone like Bourdain, a world-weary traveler who sometimes craved simple tastes of home.

I am trying really hard to avoid sodas, but this second Popeyes location had an unfamiliar label on the soda fountain — a drink I had never seen before or even heard of, and I try to stay apprised of such things!

There is precious little information about Mirinda online, but it started out as a brand from Spain, and PepsiCo bought it. They produce many different fruit-flavored sodas, so I guess Pepsi saw it as a way to compete against Coke’s Fanta brand. I’ve tried a few different strawberry sodas before, and they always taste more like strawberry candy than the actual fruit. This one was no exception. It was almost sickeningly sweet, and I was glad I only took a few sips. I ended up refilling my cup with Popeyes sweet tea while I waited for my food, and between the Mirinda soda and strong, acidic sweet tea, I ended up with acid reflux for the first few hours of my workday, long before I even indulged with a fried chicken sandwich and macaroni and cheese. Serves me right, I guess!