Fuckin Peaches 08/23/2010
 I bought peaches at Hannaford's for the fourth time this summer, and for the fourth time this summer, I threw away the disgusting, fuzzy fruit after three bites amid a great sense of dissatisfaction and discouragment. For some reason,. I keep trying to convince my body that a) I enjoy peaches and that b) they don't taste like tasteless shitty nubs of melon with the skin of a hairy caterpillar. I am constantlly disappointed by the damn peach fruit. I don't want to sound ridiculous but I everytime I'm in the produce section and I pass the peach section, I think of that Seinfeld episode where Kramer waited a full year for the two week span of ripe Mackinaw Peaches and is felled by a loss of taste buds before we can truly indulge. When he eats the Mackinaw and describes it as the juiciest, most delicious nectar of the gods, something stirs inside me and I want that feeling! I want a peach that oozes amazing texture and flavor. Peaches seems like a great thing too. My favorite book growing up was James & The Giant Peach. One of my favorite Maurys is the man who is afraid of peaches. Peaches is a great Prez of the United States of America song. Everything about the peach itself I support but the eating it. I just can't. They're fucking gross. I just can't do it. Fuckin peaches. -Reece The British Are Coming! 08/17/2010
 If there's one thing Mindwafers love, it's good beer. When a restaurant's beer menu reads like the Unabomber's manifesto, even better. That's why we couldn't be more stoked to check out the brand new British Beer Company, and its first North Shore location in the tiny little burb of Westford. The BBC, much like the Red Coats back in 1776, has swept through New England with 8 locations in the Cape, South Shore, and Metro West of Boston. But never have they crossed the 93 divider in Beantown, until now that is. The BBC is Westford opened its doors on Thursday and us thirsty Mindwafers hit the scene eager to imbibe its good riches and see if it is worth making the trek up I-495 to sample their frothy beers and alcoholic pizzas. The Good: Yes I did say alcoholic pizza - the Over 21 Pizza is featured on their menu as the only food item that actually get carded for. The Over 21 Pizza is a mammoth task to begin with: steak, peppers, onions, mushrooms - it's a tailgaters dream slice. Add a layer of special bourbon sauce (real bourbon, hence the ID needed), and you're on the fast track to one shitfaced pizza. If you don't like eating drunk they have 17 other pub style or NY style size pies to choose from. This include the McPizza with beef and Big mac dressing (riiiiight) and a Pulled Pork pie. Man I don't know those Brits were this hog wild with their pizzas. The Bad: Kitchen closes early. We showed up at 10:45 on a Friday (after only being open for one day) and the waitress said the kitchen was closing up and all that as available were pizzas. Kind of a bummer. I could see if it was a Monday or something but Friday night, opening weekend, place is packed, you can't have a late nigt bar menu or something? Man even the shitty Whipple Cafe will throw you a few scraps of food late night. The Bad: Speaking of our waitress...hmm how do I put this? She was kind of a c-word. Instantly complained about tiredness as soon as we sat down, didn't know the beers on draft, shot down our food requests, and recommended shitty beers. (Alagash White isn't like a Blue Moon.) Her replacement who took over mid-shift was the total opposite, a Spartan cheerleader that jack-knifed to our table twirling her hair and looking like she just snorted Tony Montana's head. I understand that isn't exactly the Ritz Carlton but c'mon, make an effort, try to be a good waitress. I actually didn't care that much but the crew I was with were full of former and current waitresses who dissected our server like she they were Olympic gymnastic judges. If you are a waitress serving waitresses, may God have mercy on your soul. The girl we had serving us probably has twelve eating disorders by now. The Good: As Jay from Clerks would say, Beers-beers-beers! You can't really stay too mad at a place witha beer menu that resembles a King James Bible. Here was the beer menu just at the Westford location. All 9 restaurants have their own unique beer menus. I just skimmed it amd my eyes hurt already. I lost count after the first billion list of drafts. Sure I bet I wouldn't even touch half of them, but it's all about the numbers baby. As a beer aficionado I like walking into a place and knowing I can go random with a Belgian like Piraat Ale, or go fruity with a Lindemans Framboise Lambic, go bold with a St. Peter's Cream Stout, or just relax with something domestic like a Miller Lite or Sam. I know I'm never going to dip my toes into all these brews. I mean who the fuck is Samuel Smith and why the hell did he make some many organic pale ales? I don't know but I love it.  Every so often, a food product will come along that is so outrageous, extraordinary or messed up beyond comprehension that it frightens the very souls it is trying to feed. The Mindwafers staff has agreed to try some of these items in a quest to get humanity informed and answer the age-old question, Should I eat this? The Jerry Remy Fried Dough Burger. Did I really just write that? Feels like some kind of unholy alliance between two of my favorite summer treats - fried dough and baseball. Jerry Remy's Restaurant, the newest Fenway landmark across the street from the ball park, has had lines out the door and a constantly packed house since it opened its doors this season. But dwarfing all the talk of how good this new sports bar really is, is the omnipresent new burger available on the Remy menu, one that has been whispered and gushed about across Boston as something so unthinkable, so offensive, so chill-inducing, that it defies rational thought and reason. The new Remy Burger is a full prime beef pattie with cheddar, bacon, grilled onions, special sauce, lettuce, tomato, and FRIED DOUGH as the bun. I'll say it again just incase your ears were as clogged as the arteries of teh chef that created this monstrousity: the buns are made from FRIED DOUGH. Pure, deep fried fatty yeast in between an otherwise normal mean looking burger. Take a peek at the Remy Burger; just remember to not look direct at the fat content or you might be blinded by pure lard.  By the way, that is a fried pickle that comes with this demon burger. Along with a cone of french fries. Justincase the burger itself doesn't corrode your blood vessels, here's a fried pickle to smash down your throat and send you into the cardiac wing at Mass General. The poop on the Remy Burger is that it is atrocious. Boston's Burger Blog gave it a score of 59 out of 100 and called it "not only bad, it’s unprecedented, so offensive it’s almost shocking." Kind of like Remy's jokes on NESN...ZING-AH! Pigtrip.net called it a "disappointment". People are lining up to shit on this burger - much like the people that are probably lining up to shit after eating this burger. Much like the Red Sox, this is a colossal letdown. It is a big budget team with too many all stars - bacon, cheddar, fried dough - that can't play together and thus derail the whole operation/sandwich. Burgers and fried dough are two of the greatest creations on Earth - but do not belong together. They should be separated in their unique worlds of barbeque and carnival food. So while I Love the Rem Dog and I love the Sox, the Remy Burger does not get the 'Wafe approval. Should You Eat This? Called third strike.....that's a no. Feeding The Homeless Gross Food 07/27/2010
 A real life Cabbage Patch kid Here at Mindwafers, we are all about helping the homeless. Donating time, money, energy - you name it, we support it. Will we actually do any of it? Wellllll, that's a different story altogether. But when our fellow man needs a helping hand, we refrain from our usual hate parade and give major props. But when news broke that a 11 year old girl who grew a 40 pound mamoth cabbage in her back yard donated the entire enormous lettuce head to the homeless, the world choked back its collective tears. But I just got to ask - cabbage? For the homeless? Wow, how delicious. Did she also donate brussell sprouts and lima beans? Seriously of all the disgusting, boring foods someone could donate to a local soup kitchen or food pantry, cabbage has to be up there with the best (or worst) of them. If I was homeless I wouldn't eat it. Well, ok, that's probably not true. I would eat anything if I was homeless. Hell I eat everything now and I live quite comfortably in a duplex. But I wouldn't be happy about it. You see a 40 pound cabbage roll into your soup kitchen - you know what your next twelve meals are. Cabbage soup. Cabbage soup. Cabbage soup. Cabbage soup. Maybe a lettuce wrap or two, but you know what's going to be in that thing? More lettuce. You're gonna have more green inside of you than a cash register. I'm not saying this girl is wrong, but hey, you couldn't grow a 40 pound potato in your backyard? Maybe dice it up, get some steak frries going, or dump it in a a vat of oil, maybe cut us up some potato chips. The homeless may be without homes, but they aren't without taste buds. -Reece The Greatest Cereals Of All Time 07/15/2010
To some, cereal is their life blood. It has been the only constant, permanent fixture in their lives. For decades people have began their day with cereal. Some interject it for an early lunch or make it a mid afternoon snack. Some people go wild and make it their dinner. (These are what we call "poor people", but hey I ain't judgin'). But make no mistake - cereal is not only a building blocks of not only a well balanced nutritional day, but the foundation of a goddamn graet American lifestyle. But of all the cereals that run up and down the aisles at your Market Baskets, your Shaw's, your Stop N Shop's, which one rules them all? Mindwafers dares to ask.... What is the greatest cereal of all time?  Cookie Crisp. I just love the commercial where the dog hollers "Coooooooooooooookie Crisp". Something about that kills me. I have no idea why. Cookie Crisp is a great cereal, don't get me wrong, but there are hundreds of cereals that make their living with cookie/chocolate as their cereal and they don't stand out half as much as Cookie Crisp. Maybe it was the whole commercial campaign of robbers with those Zorro masks always trying to steal Cookie Crisp but being outsmarted by a group of wily kids addicted to cookie cereal. So I guess Cookie Crisp gets on the list on the strength of their commercials. Something tells me they won't be the first one on this list that pulls that off.  Frosted Mini Wheats. I must have ate about 60 pounds of Frosted Mini Wheats from the years of 1996-2000. Despite the occasional Ego waffle or burnt Pop Tart as I madly ran for the bus, the Frosted Mini Wheats were as synomous with my high school as Western Civ, football games, and not getting laid. Something about milk mushing up that frosted square and getting one part complete barren of frosting, and the other side covered in sugary frosted splendor really did a number on me. I was a hardcore Frosted Mini-Wheats addict. I would easily crush two bowls at breakfast before school--barely able to fight the urge for a third because they were just so damn delicious. To this day I'm not really sure why Frosted Mini-Wheats tickled my fancy so much. There wasn't much a jazzy cereal box--the schizophrenic Mini-Wheat guy who constantly argued with his frosted half wasn't that cool of a character--but still I lived and died by the FMW. Everyone now and then I'll dip back into the Wheats, pick up a box and remember the good old days: chugging a bowl of the wheats, watching back to back Saved By The Bell reruns, racing down my street to catch the bus, or firing up my crappy Neon and listening to 2-Pac and Biggie while driving to the whitest high school in Masschusetts. Ahh, those were the days. Best...News...Ever 07/08/2010
 The side effects include remembering that you're at Denny's at 3 am This isn't hyperbole; this announcement could be the greatest news I've ever read and, for fat guys everywhere, you should rejoice. A team of researchers for the University of North Carolina found that, not only is bacon and eggs okay to eat, it's actually good for you! Yes, that's right, good for you. Greasy bacon and eggs, no longer just good for hangovers. The study found that bacon and eggs are a rich source of choline, which reportedly helps in developing the fetal brain in areas of memory. So now, if you eat bacon, you're more likely to remember that bacon helps you remember things better, like for example, that bacon is good for you. Isn't science wonderful? The study also claims that drinking a twelve pack helps fight heart disease and a 'fatty blunt' will combat early signs of Parkinsons. All I know is that I went to the wrong college. -Big Sus  Every so often, a food product will come along that is so outrageous, extraordinary or messed up beyond comprehension that it frightens the very souls it is trying to feed. The Mindwafers staff has agreed to try some of these items in a quest to get humanity informed and answer the age-old question, Should I eat this? I think I finally understand why Massachusetts is requiring all its residents to have healthcare. Westfield MA's own Friendly, home of the Clown Cone and the crappiest sandwiches and melts around, has finally slayed the KFC Double Down on inventing the most unholiest burger possible. It didn't even take that long. The KFC Double Down was only a mere few months old - and we shared our thoughts on that d-list disgrace here - when Friendly created the Grilled Cheese Burger Melt: an enormous burger between two grilled cheese sandwiches as the buns. The Grilled Cheese Burger Melt is the Optimus Prime of sandwiches. For those of you keeping score at home, that's three sandwiches in one. That's 1500 calories, 97 grams of fat, and over 2,000 mg of sodium in one gravity-defying burger. That's enough beef to feed a Kardashian. That's enough cheese goo to plug up the sprung oil well in the Gulf. That's enough flop sweat to irrigate a field of crops. Friendly's chefs have explained their mad scientist-like creation with one phrase: "You'll have to taste it to believe it." Well, may I say, and this is the voice of an inner fat kid, uh, Friendly's? I'm good. Now before you think I've gone all faggy and vegan on you, let me know that I just recently competed/vomitted in a hot-dog contest during Fourth of July. I watch Man vs Food and Phantom Gourmet every week. My ancestory can be traced from parts of Glutton, Sloth, and the Isle of Chubski. I think I even had a great Uncle from Northwestern Fat. But even I am not touching this Grilled Cheese Burger bethemont. Why? Cuz it's Friendly's! Friendly's is the grossest eatery this side of the Mississippi. Any trip to a local Friendly's you will clearly see flies buzzing near ovens and ice cream bins, dirty utensils on tables, and the biggest slew of dingleberries working behind the counters and in the kitchens. Hell half the Mindwafers' staff grew up slinging melts and clown sundaes at the local Friendly's - where do they think their pessimistic rage and distrust of the corporate machine developed from? Friendly's is a cesspool. I wouldn't trust their beef if I was starving and dying from hunger in the desert. Well, maybe I'd order their breakfast plate. But that's it. Ice cream and breakfast. Nothing else. In the sad downward spiral of chains in America, Friendly's occupies a lower level of Hell next to Bugaboo Creek and Red Lobster. Getting back to the Grilled Cheese Burger Meltdown of Human Civilization...it is one thing for novelty restaurants and Mom & Pop eateries to have colossal burgers on their menu as a special. But when Friendly's, the turd of chain restaurants, starts handing out grilled cheese burger melts at $5 a pop, ensuring every fat family in New England will be obesifying their kids with this sandwich, well that's when the gig is up. There's a reason Adam Richman won't be showing up at the Friendly's in Billerica to take on the Grilled Cheese Burger Melt. It's gross. Friendly's, you have gross food already. We don't need huge, gross food. Know your role and stick to scooping. SHOULD I EAT THIS? Helllll no. -Reece  When I was younger, I lived for Saturday morning cartoons. I would be up at 6am, much to my parents chagrin, racing to the TV and sitting enthralled for hours at a time as I plowed through such classic as Thundercats, GI Joe, and Muppet Babies. Well, now, 25 years later, I find a new reason to get up somewhat early on Saturday mornings. The Phantom Gourmet - Boston's signature restaurant review show - has become my new Saturday morning cartoon. Just like a kid, I 'ooo" and 'ahh' at featured dishes and amazing entrees. Just like Saturday morning cartoons, I can pick and choose the good guys (massive burgers, prime rib, the guy from Straga) and the bad guys (overpriced Italian places, Bugaboo Creek). And just like Saturday morning cartoons, I want to go to all these restaurants and play with their food all day long. I managed to score two free tickets to Phantom's signature summer event - the BBQ Beach Party at Suffiolk Downs that features barbeque pits teams from around the world, so naturally I didn't eat for a 3 days and trained my stomach for a decathalon mowing adventure. Just the idea of an all day drinking and rib eating event was enough to give me a significant stomach-erection for most of the weekend. I thought I was prepared for the feast, but little did I know that when there's this much barbeque and brisket is available, it's like Meat Thunderdome. I took the old lady in case of any cardiac arrests and jotted down some notes in between delicious bites:  There were seven pits set up - all BBQ teams from various locales from around the country, and even one from Down Under. Each one had a distinct style, a distinct flavor, something that made it stick out. Knowing there was this much smoked meat available to me was almost enough to get me drunk with happiness. The $6 Bud Lights also helped. I knew that somehow I had to conserve my stomach and appetitte if I wanted to touch 'em all. If I went too overboard at one BBQ pit, I would be too full to sample the rest and be forced to waddle back to the beach patio and drink beer all day on a full stomach. Which didn't sound terrible. But I was here for one reason and one reason only: The Eats. First up - Jack's Home Down Barbeque, based out Philly. When you think of Philly, barbeque doesn't exactly leap to mind. You think cheese-steaks, you think Donovan Mcnabb throwing up, you think a miserable bunch of people who just suck the life right out of living. Not exactly a prime BBQ market. But Jack's surprised me. We got ourselves a plate of pulled pork nachos and a half slab of ribs. The ribs were great - fell right off the bone, juicy, tender, and the barbeque sauce was the perfect combo of sweetness and tang. But what bowled us over and caused me to spill sauce on my pants thirty second into the event were the nachos. Holy Rocky Balboa were these things amazing. The pulled pork was so delicious and sweet and shaved perfectly into clumps that adorned each nacho chip like a island in a sea of queso cheese. We devoured these nachos like we just ended a week long hunger strike. Seriously, if you ever find yourself in Philly, well that sucks, but skip the cheese steak and head to Jack's for some pulled pork. The dude sizzles a good swine. Lion Burgers? Can I Get Mine With Bacon? 06/25/2010
 Word just broke that an Arizona restaurant is offering "lion-meat" burgers as part of a World Cup promotion. Tasty lion burgers are being served at a whopping $21 a plate at Il Vinaio in Mesa, Arizona. Right now, pieces of Mufasa, Simba, and Cowardly are being grilled up, splattered with dressings and vegetables, and served before wide-eyed customers in the Grand Canyon State. The king of the jungle, the prideful predator, the ruler of all other animals on the desert plains and the African tundra, is going great with cheese and ketchup. And amongst the outrage and the controversy and the scandal, I just have one question....when I can get one? I am not even lying when I say if I had an extra $500 in my back pocket, and didn't have to worry about stupid shit like "bills" and "my girlfriend", I would be on the first flight to Arizona and reserving a table for one at Il Vinaio for a delicious looking lion burger. I might order two. I'd be slathering on the Frank's Red Hot, I'd get a side of steak fries, and a nice cold beer, and well, that might be the closest thing to heaven I might ever know. The lion, the ruler of the forest, a predator and eater of countless men before me, in my belly with fries and a drink. My how the tables have turned lion! Of course, activists are flipping their shit in response to the lion burger. They are organizing write-in campaigns and protests and even one meat-depraved poor soul called in a bomb threat to the restaarant owner. Which is funny, because lions are not even on the endangered species list and actually qualify as a game meat that can be hunted and yes, eaten. But just the headline alone "Lion meat served at restaurant" is enough for PETA to go in full scramble mode. They will descend upon Mesa like vultures, hoping to tell the world that eating the proud, powerful lion is wrong and that anyone who eats a lion should be ashamed. Even though I'm pretty sure if I was alone with a lion, he would have no probelm eating me. But the issue here isn't if a lion burger is wrong. Of course it's not. It's about man in general and if there's an animal out there, we're gonna eat it. Because we're better. Why I'll Always Love Deli King 06/17/2010
 Something to drink? By Reece Making your way in the world today takes everything you've got. Taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot. Wouldn't you like to get away? Sometimes you want to go Where everybody knows your name, and they're always glad you came. You wanna be where you can see our troubles are all the same You wanna be where everybody knows your name. Why do I love Deli King? I think the question is, why wouldn't I love Deli King? Not only is walking into Deli King like walking into the Cheers bar, your own living room, and the greatest cafeteria of all time, Deli King is like a little greasy part of your soul that sticks to the side of your gut, but in the best way possible. Whenever I feel depressed, whenever I'm having a tough go, whenever I just want a friendly slice of heaven with a side of bacon, I go where everybody knows my order.... But there's so much more. They have greatest staff on earth. Without a doubt, the finest collection of creatures ever assembled. I don't know who I have a man-crush on more, the "bacon-'n-sausage" guy or the "white-or-wheat" toast guy, who might as well be the same fantastic human being in my opinion. If they ever melded, it would be like that Jean Claude Van Damme movie when the world ends if two people who occupy the same matter and atoms ever collide. I also really enjoy the Chris Farely look-a-like who handles the lunch specials and usually hands you your food. I used to be nervous the guy was gonna take a swipe of home fries or hand me my plate with half my omelette trapped in his moustache, but no more. I trust him now. I can't forget creepy busy boy guy, who is ready to take your garbage the millisecond you finish eating. And of course, "Something to drinnnnnk?" guy, who should have his own sitcom where he gets in wacky situations and shouts out that catchphrase as a studio audience hoots and hollers intertwined with a laugh track. They could even sell ripoff T-shirts outside the mall. But seriously you have to appreciate the fact that the staff has remained the same since 1985. I love the fact I can recognize any of these guys as Deli King Guys. You don't find loyalty and consistency like that anymore. Those guys will be there til the apocalypse. And the Deli King staff takes care of you on the whole., How else to explain the two separate shitters. No, not two stalls. Two actual competely separate bathroom areas: one in the front by the newspapers and gum machines and then the well-hidden one behind the corner near the emergency exit by the corner booths. Find me a restaurant that hooks up its patrons with two separate cans for your shitting adventures. If you're in a feisty, free for all type of shitting mood, welcoming all spectators, you go for the front entrance shitter. Multiple stalls, big hand-blower, perfect for conversation. But perhaps you're in a more private, somber shitting mood, you go for the back bathroom. More privacy, less people know about it, often mistaken for an employee bathroom. I like having those options. Deli King is always looking out for you and that my friends is what we call class. | Eats
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