Category Archives: Words

Food truck stuff

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The show is called “The Great Food Truck Race.” Seven specialty food trucks — home-style Cajun, fine-dining French, pressed sandwiches, Vietnamese banh mis, crepes, hamburgers and banana pudding — will set off on a six-week road trip from Los Angeles to New York, stopping along the way to peddle their grub. The teams who sell the most food advance to the next town; the losers pack up their fryers and head home. As the celebrity chef Tyler Florence, who hosts the show, put it recently, “It’s like ‘Cannonball Run’ with food trucks.”

– Josh Eells, New York Times.

Not to burst your bubble, but if you read the rest of the article you find out it’s really not a whole lot like Cannonball Run with food trucks. I generally prefer the food shows that just display awesome food and tell you where to get it or how to make it over ones that involve reality-TV challenges. Plus it really seems like the banana-pudding truck faces an uphill battle against the hamburger truck.

But all that said, this sounds like a decent show. Because hey, food trucks.

I’m never much one for trends, but the food-truck one is something I can get behind. After all, I ate food from food trucks long before they came into vogue and I don’t plan on stopping after the wave breaks. There’s a big difference between a food-truck fad and a Silly-Bandz fad. One of them provides me delicious food for reasonable prices. I’m not entirely clear on what the other one does.

I have a lengthy history of eating food from mobile distributors.

Back when I worked in a soulcrushing temp position at Macys.com, there was a pizza truck that used to park outside and sell grandma-style slices. They were amazing, and it made that job ever so slightly more bearable.

Near the MLB.com offices in Chelsea, there was (probably still is) a taco truck that came at night to the corner of 14th and 8th. Real good, fresh Mexican food — an awesome treat during a late-night editing shift. Plus the truck had a big sign that said “Bienvenidos a tacos,” which translates to: “Welcome to Tacos.” Thanks buddy, but I’ve been here for years.

The best food truck near my current office is almost certainly the Jamaican Grand Duchy cart, which I don’t visit nearly enough.

The grease trucks at Rutgers prompted this site’s first sandwich writeup.

And I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the stellar Mr. Softee, pretty much the O.G. food truck.

Finally, I enjoyed a chili dog at the Haven Brothers food truck in Providence last week. It’s basically an 18-wheeler that parks outside City Hall from dusk ’til dawn every night, and the trailer part of the truck is a tiny little diner with a kitchen, seats and everything. Cool place.

Any recommendations for food trucks? I’m all ears. Also, teeth and mouth and stomach. I’m all ears and appetite.

Condiment company challenges Amar’e Stoudemire to prove Judaism by eating horseradish for charity

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If Stoudemire doesn’t burst out crying in the grinding room or after eating a forkful of horseradish on a piece of matzoh and doesn’t fall backwards after smelling a gallon of horseradish placed right before his eyes, he’ll win the challenge.

“If Amar’e is really Jewish then there is only one way to prove it.”

The payoff?

“We’ll guarantee Amar’e a lifetime supply of Gold’s Horseradish (red, white or extra hot cream style) for him and his family,” Gold said.

Gold said he’ll also donate ten cases of Gold’s condiments, including its mustard products, to a charity or food bank of Stoudemire’s choice for every Knicks win for the next two seasons. And Gold says he’ll step it up for the playoffs, which the team hasn’t played in since the 2003-04 season.

– Darren Rovell, CNBC SportsBiz.

Oh man. Oh man, oh man, oh man. First of all, good luck with that, Amar’e. I could go either way on horseradish but I’ve never found it too difficult to palate. I imagine a gallon of it is pretty pungent though.

But hey, if you can handle it: FREE HORSERADISH FOR LIFE! I don’t even know if I want that after all those horseradish-related challenges. Plus I’m not certain I’ve ever even purchased horseradish. Of course, I’m not Jewish.

My favorite part of this, though, is that Gold’s is stepping up and donating mustard to the charity of Stoudemire’s choice. Because first off, it’s a condiment. It is by it’s nature extraneous — albeit delicious.

It’s not like they’re donating something with a ton of nutritional value that’s going to help food banks provide for more people. Just mustard, to make the people’s food a little tastier. Which is noble, don’t get me wrong. Just funny.

Also, it would be particularly funny if Stoudemire completed the challenge and chose a charity that was not a food bank, like the Sierra Club or one dedicated to cancer research. And I bet there are plenty of good people working at all those charities who would appreciate tons of mustard.

Sandwich of the Week: Not a sandwich

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Fun fact: Rhode Island has laws governing how jonnycakes are made. The state’s legislature commands that Rhode Island breakfast spots use a specific type of cornmeal and nothing else. No flour or cornstarch. Also, the law says that it’s jonnycakes, not johnnycakes.

I have no idea how Rhode Island enforces that. Do they use undercover food cops, or does a team of state troopers just come busting through a diner’s doors on a hot tip from a disgruntled employee? Also, I mean — I’m no fan of false advertising or anything — who cares? If I want to open a Rhode Island coffee shop and serve johnnycakes with a little bit of flour to thicken up the batter, they’ll probably still be delicious. Why should the state intervene?

Also, the state legislature named coffee milk the official state drink of Rhode Island. Apparently Rhode Island politicians have a lot of time on their hands.

The sandwich: Chow Mein Sandwich from Evelyn’s Drive-In in Tiverton, R.I.

The construction: An order of chow mein — the American-Chinese food dish with frizzly noodles and vegetables in some sort of soy goo — piled onto a hamburger bun, sort of.

Important background information: It is amazing to me that a state so fixated on culinary semantics should allow this thing to be sold as a “sandwich.” I don’t know for sure what constitutes a sandwich, but I know this is not one.

For these writeups and just in life, I use a very broad definition of the term “sandwich.” Since the verb “to sandwich” means to squeeze  between two things, you’d think a sandwich should necessarily have two starches bookending some sort of meat, cheese or vegetable.

But that discounts wraps, gyros and so many wonderful meat-wrapped-in-bread concoctions, most of which I consider sandwiches.

I would say, very generally, that to be a sandwich, the item must at least make some pretense toward portability. I mean, even if once you take a bite out of the thing the ingredients spill all over your plate and you have to use a fork like a sucker, that can still count as a sandwich for me. If you can’t pick it up in the first place, I don’t think so.

Of course, that dismisses so-called “open-faced sandwiches” and items like the Croque Madame, but I’m cool with that. If you need to start with a fork, it’s not a sandwich. We’ve got to draw the line somewhere. Plus I’ve never had much time for the French, and I’m not comfortable ordering something called “Croque Madame” in the first place. It’s like asking for a “pink lady” at a bar. I’m a pretty secure dude all around and I happen to generally enjoy pink beverages, but it’s got “lady” right there in the name. Can’t bring myself to do it. (Pink lady apples are still cool.)

So while I haven’t yet reached a comprehensive definition of sandwich, there must be standards. And the Chow Mein sandwich didn’t meet those. You’ll soon see why.

What it looks like:

How it tastes: Not terrible, just not at all like a sandwich. I don’t think I’ve ever ordered chow mein from a Chinese restaurant — I’m more of a lo mein guy — but this chow mein was decent and plentiful. Sodiumy.

And it came with a hamburger bun, which is novel. Half the hamburger bun was on top of the order of chow mein and the other half was buried somewhere underneath. So it did have two pieces of bread, like many sandwiches. That’s something it had in common with sandwiches. But the rest of it, no. Not a sandwich.

What it’s worth: Evelyn’s Drive-In is awesome, I should say. They’ve got picnic tables set up overlooking a gorgeous lake. On the drive there you can spot tremendous, awesome wind turbines all about. Plus all the rest of the food we tried — fried clams, lobster bisque and the like — was delicious.

It’s a nice place, and certainly worth the 20-minute drive from Newport if you’re vacationing there, as I was. I mean, you’re on vacation. You’ve got time for a scenic 20-minute drive to enjoy some fried seafood.

And the Chow Mein sandwich was only $5.50 or something, which yielded a whole lot of chow mein. So that was alright. Probably not worth wasting precious gut room on when there’s so much delicious seafood available, of course.

The rating: N/A, not a sandwich. It’s like asking me how Jets guard Brandon Moore is at baseball. I mean, hey, he’s not a bad football player. He’s just not a sandwich.

Goodnight, sweet prince

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The Mets released Alex Cora today.

His option will not vest.

Instead of firing their manager, the Mets fired their manager-on-the-field.

Goodbye, Alex Cora. The Mets went 45-63 in games you started over the past two seasons, but we can only imagine how much worse they would have fared without your intangible contributions.

!

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The Savannah Sand Gnats are truly bringing the heat with a first-ever fire promotion at a minor league baseball game on Saturday, August 14 with Guinness World Record Holder, Ted Batchelor. After the Sand Gnats’ game against the Kannapolis Intimidators, which will begin at 6:05, and before the evening’s fireworks show, one lucky fan will light Batchelor on fire; he will then circle the bases at Historic Grayson Stadium.

Batchelor, 51, owns the Guinness World Record for the “Longest full-body burn without supplied oxygen” at 2 minutes, 57 seconds, set in Rome, Italy on February 25th, 2010. He and his crew also set the World Record for the “most people on fire simultaneously” at 17, on Pizak Farm in South Russell, OH, on September 20, 2009.

– Savannah Sand Gnats press release.

Wow, OK. A lot of stuff here. First of all, apparently people should now be considered “lucky” to light one another on fire. Second, even though this guy is practically begging for a Darwin Award, he’s probably awesome.

Guest poster/former roommate Ted Burke and I used to name worthy people named Ted to Team Ted, and banish people named Ted who we deemed unworthy to Team Melvin. Clearly Ted Batchelor makes Team Ted with flying colors. He appreciates fire.

Also — and excuse me if this is glib — I’m almost positive 17 is not the record for most people simultaneously on fire. Maybe it’s the record for most people simultaneously on fire on purpose, but I have a feeling the unfortunate women of the Triangle Shirtwaist factory would take issue with the benchmark.

And furthermore, good luck following “Dude running the bases while engulfed in flames,” Savannah-area pyrotechnics outfit. I have a feeling the fireworks show is going to be a bit of a letdown after they spark up Ted Batchelor.

Finally a visit to Mr. Batchelor’s website reveals that this is pretty much what he does for a living, and also this:

Ted Batchelor, a freshman radio-film major enjoys being dragged by trucks, setting himself on fire, sleeping in front of cars, eating glasses in bars and other unusual extracurricular activities.

Ahh… whatever you’re into, bro.

Hat tip to @mikexdavis for the tipoff.

Martino: Mets are too nice

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This is what characterizes the Phillies of this era, and what separates them from the Mets:

Swagger. Arrogance. Condescension toward opponents…

The collective personalities of both clubs are clear, and in direct contrast with one another. Wounded by divisional collapses in 2007 and 2008, the Mets lack a cocky culture of winning. This weekend, they will field a team comparable in talent to the Phillies, and filled with people you might rather have dinner with. And, sadly for the Mets, that is part of their problem.

– Andy Martino, N.Y. Daily News.

GAL:SJKHASD:KLJSDAL:JKASD.

OK, first of all, a column about the Mets’ attitude that doesn’t mention Jeff Francoeur even once. That’s somehow notable.

The players Martino singles out? Well, Jesus Feliciano and Chris Carter, of course — because, you know, there’s not a single nice guy on the Phillies bench. Ross Gload? Massive a**hole. Wilson Valdez? Shanked Greg Dobbs in the clubhouse after he struck out twice earlier this week.

Potshots are also directed at “kindly giant” Mike Pelfrey and “pleasantly spacey” Jose Reyes.

Meanwhile, this part gets one line. One line:

While the roster is not the deepest, the Mets have never wanted for championship-level talent.

Emphasis mine.

And look: Maybe the Mets’ attitude is not a winning one. What do I know? Sure, everyone cited JUST THAT a month ago, back when the Mets were winning, but now that Carlos Beltran’s back it’s making the rest of the Mets too nice or something. Not Beltran himself — he’s too focused, too serious. But that’s different from wanting to win like the Phillies do.

Joe the Ballcrusher

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Teditor’s Note: Though Ted Berg has already returned from vacation, I’m squeezing in this late guest post.  Tequarters seems like exactly the right place to solicit ideas for silly names.

NOTICE: Your Major League career has been one for the books.  At your age, now is the time for retirement.

– MLB 07 The Show.

And with those words, I have been locked in a glass case of emotion.

Four years ago, I sat down with MLB 07 The Show to build a Major League career for a strapping 6’5” catcher by the name of Joe Rimrock.  14,422 at bats later, Rimrock has put together the most storied baseball career in the history of my fantasy universe.  With the 2034 season behind him, I was really looking forward to testing the free agent market.  At 45, Rimrock is still near the top of his game, though it’s clear his skills are beginning to erode quite rapidly.  Maybe I could sucker some GM into signing Rimrock to a long term deal, and eventually I could see how the game handles a washed up veteran with a massive contract.  Or maybe no GM would make such an offer, and Rimrock would get to spend his twilight years with short contracts in the American League, constantly proving his worth as a DH.

So it was quite a shock to me when I reached the 2034-2035 off-season only to be given the above message from The Show.  Not only does it mean Rimrock’s career can’t be played to a satisfying end, it also means that I have battled through my last plate appearance with Joe Rimrock.  More importantly, that message tossed me into an existential panic.  That message — so concisely and casually disposing of Rimrock’s career — really drove home what a colossal waste of time my investment in Joe Rimrock has been.

My plan for dealing with this existential
funk is to dive headfirst back into my video game fantasyuniverse.  I’ve long had a side-armed knuckleballer, Harry Balls, as a side project.  Naturally he will occupy more of my time.  But I also need to come up with a new position player to be the next Joe Rimrock.  I’m thinking a center fielder who starts out with blazing speed and eventually settles down to become a fearsome power hitter.

Given that I’ll be spending countless hours staring at this new guy’s name on a TV screen, I want to make sure I’ve got a good, silly name for the guy.  Right now I’m leaning toward Steven McTowelie, but I want to take some time to weigh my options.   Other ideas include Doc O’Bell, Butch Muskey, Sir Anthony Plush, William Preston, esq., Theodore Logan, Kenneth Noisewater, and Bris Lordofthedance. Anyone have any suggestions?

What of the Fernanchise?

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Since 2007, he’s moved down on Baseball America’s Top 100 list from the 20th to 30th to 77th position. Now, according an e-mail from BA editor Jim Callis, he’s off the list. All this has happened before Martinez’s 22nd birthday. Is it him, or is it a curse of expectations that became too high?

Martinez has spent this season with Triple-A Buffalo. A recent surge, after Callis sent his e-mail, has his average up to .256. He has struck out 59 times and walked just 17, a ratio the sabermetricians hate. But he has 12 homers in 258 at-bats with an isolated slugging (batting average minus slugging average) above .200. That’s at the level of most developing sluggers.

– Mike Salfino, SNY.tv.

I would argue that it’s totally fair to cut down Fernando Martinez’s prospect status based on his inability to stay healthy for any great length of time. Though there have certainly been examples of injury-prone players turning into mostly healthy ones once they grow into their bodies, Martinez’s propensity for injury is troublesome and makes it pretty hard to remain bullish about his future.

I agree with Mike, though, that it’s still hard to dock Martinez too many spots based on performance. He’s 21 and was rushed through the farm system. As Salfino points out, it feels like he’s past prospect age because we’ve been hearing about him for so long, but is younger than the average player on the Brooklyn Cyclones.

Martinez is more than a year younger than Kirk Nieuwenhuis, the man recently anointed the Mets’ new best outfield prospect (replacing Martinez). Nieuwenhuis steals bases and reportedly plays center field pretty well so they’re not exactly comparable players, but Martinez’s .825 career Triple-A OPS isn’t terribly far off Captain Kirk’s .869 Double-A line across a similar sample size.

Does that mean Martinez should still be considered a top prospect? I don’t know. Jim Callis knows way more about ranking prospects than I do.

I’m just not ready to count out a 21-year-old with some — albeit limited — success at the Minors’ highest level.

The Big Aristotle hopes to finish what Jim Everett started

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As Ball Don’t Lie details, Shaquille O’Neal responded to criticism from Jim Rome in the most sensible way imaginable: By challenging him to a fight.

This absolutely has to happen. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my whole life, and that includes the Mark-McGwire-riding-a-triceratops situation that came up in a recent email chain with the TedQuarters guest posters.

Someone start a petition or something. Take pledges. I’ll pledge $50 to the charity of the winner’s choice if Rome takes so much as one punch from the Big Shaqasso.

Mets fans cling to semantics

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New York Mets principal owner Fred Wilpon said Thursday that Omar Minaya will remain GM beyond this season.

While in East Hartford, Conn., for an announcement of a partnership between the Wilpon-owned SNY network and University of Connecticut athletics, the Mets owner rhetorically asked “Is the sun going to come up tomorrow?” in response to a New York Post inquiry about Minaya remaining GM in 2011.

– Adam Rubin, ESPN.com.

I mean, you know, technically the sun’s not going to come up tomorrow. Really the earth is going to rotate to create the illusion of the sun coming up tomorrow. Maybe Fred Wilpon’s being super cagey.

Or maybe, and more likely, he was peppered with questions as he got into a car and provided some throwaway answers. I doubt that, given the situation, he’s going to be all, “hell no! That guy’s toast!”

Obviously I don’t know the truth one way or the other, and considering the Mets’ reluctance to cut bait on sunk cost it’s entirely possible Minaya will be back as the Mets’ GM in 2011. At some point, though, it should become clear to the team’s ownership that it can likely earn back more than Minaya’s salary with a championship club, and that Minaya is apparently not the man to construct one.