A Kuna Machaca (aka El Gallo Giro) - Kuna, ID

When you're a pig, you eat almost anything, but you prefer the good stuff like truffles. You root around hunting for those mysterious little fungal nodes day after day after day and all you ever come up with is slop; somebody else's garbage. Eventually, you tire of looking for something good to eat and you get hungry enough that you eat the aforementioned slop. It's not your first choice but you play the hand that's dealt you. Perhaps that is where the term sloppy seconds comes from. Not sure on that one, but I still wouldn't want to eat it.

If only pigs had jobs with monetary gains, opposable thumbs, the ability to read a menu, and some shorty shorts to cover their tiny little pink corkscrew-shaped wankers so as to not show them off and offend other patrons, thus causing mass hysteria and truly confusing the wine steward, they would simply be able to drive their Volkswagens to Kuna for a better than average Mexican style meal at El Gallo Giro.

Yum!

Some of the reviews of El Gallo Giro would lead you to believe it is the greatest food that our friends to the south could ever hope to produce. Reality would rate the food there at about a 6.5 out of ten. Combine the decent food with great service and excellent prices and you get a nice place for a casual meal.

I chose the machaca and was pleasantly surprised when I was presented with a simple bowl of tortilla soup as an appetizer. The soup had some flavor and was a welcomed start to my meal. The meat in the machaca was quite tender but the dish as a whole lacked salt to enhance the combination of flavors. The rice was a bit firm and the bits of cheese crumbles, which I can only assume were a queso fresco or a substitute of feta, added some much needed saltiness and was a nice touch.

Although Pumba or Maxwell will likely never get an opportunity to eat at El Gallo Giro, most patrons that decide to give this establishment a try will have a pleasant experience, won't get cork-screwed, and will end up going wee, wee, wee all the way home!

"A Kuna Machaca!

What a wonderful phrase

A Kuna Machaca!

Ain't no passing craze."

Serious Burger. Seriously!

How do you make a hormone? That is perhaps a more baffling question than "Why did the chicken cross the road?". As children, we were often told of the trials and tribulations of the disoriented chicken and the many reasons why it would ever want to cross the road. From "To cock-a-doodle-do something", or the standard "To get to the other side", the answer was never really known. That is, until now! 

According to the National Institute of Health, the real reason that chickens began crossing roads is because, much like humans, they developed a taste for artificial colors, man made ingredients and pink slime in their food. The cravings and sudden urges of the Gallus gallus domesticus brought on by the jonesing affect of monosodium glutamate and nitrate infested foods is the real reason behind the chicken's erratic behavior patterns. 

Those same patterns have recently been observed in humans. Additional studies by authorities such as the World Health Organization, the World Health Animal Trust and the Wholesome Hygiene Earth Resources Entity, have proven that 87.3% of all restaurant food consumed in the United States contains nearly 76% of the worlds badifoyasodum concentration! For those of you not familiar with the class of chemicals badifoyasodum, there are many articles referencing its use in the US food supply and additional information can be found by simple internet searches. Simply stated, badifoyasodum is the leading cause of crossing the road for no apparent reason among both chickens and humans alike! 

So, how does one avoid being poisoned with badifoyasodum (also known as BFD Syndrome)? It's really quite simple. STOP EATING CRAP FOOD! For starters, look for freshly prepared foods when you dine out. Food with minimal ingredients, rGBH free beef and organic labeling. Yes, these foods cost a bit more, but is it not worth your health to spend a bit more for quality?

 I bring all of this up because I recently stopped by Serious Burger in Appleton, Wisconsin. Yes, it is a bit pricier for a burger joint, but you get what you pay for! You can go to Five Guys (which I have on more than one occasion) and get mediocre food with ingredients that are only found on the banned list in many European countries and you will pay a bit less, but what are you getting? Nothing special. You might as well be eating slime burgers for what it's worth. 

The service at Serious burger was fine. The flavor of the beef and the quality of the fresh Brioche bun was outstanding! On my list of the top three burgers I have ever eaten! The fresh fried egg added richness to the entire experience and the seasoning was just right. The Truffle Oil fries were nothing special and I would recommend sticking to the regular fries, but that burger is certainly something to write about!

So if you have the taste buds of an average moron who enjoys a burger simply because it took more than four guys to make it and costs a bit less, by all means have it your way. But if you really want to enjoy the flavor of organic beef on a fresh bun and you have an extra buck to spend on your health, go to Serious Burger.

It only takes eating a Serious Burger to make you moan with pleasure. To make a hormone, however, you have to not pay her. 

Bronks Bar and Grill - Lake City, MN

Have you ever had sex with a rodeo clown? Never mind, that question is stupid. Nobody has. Not even the Insane Clown Posse and they have both the words "clown" and "posse" in their name! But have you ever stopped to think "why" nobody has sex with rodeo clowns? Me neither. That train of thought would only end up as a fiery pile of crap at the bottom of Shonash Ravine.

Anyway, as you try and wrap your mind around rodeo clown sex and the possibility that Harry the Bull and his band of Gifted Bovines is somehow responsible for the complete lack of some true bull on clown action, turn your thoughts to a little slice of Food Network Television that features Chef Robert Irvine trying to save failing restaurants from their own stupidity and turn them into Dollar Store phenoms with a better menu. 

One particular episode that recently caught my eye was filmed in Lake City, Minnesota and the location is only a few hours away from me. I couldn't resist. This was going to be a nice surprise or an utter disappointment. 

The atmosphere of the place was not bad and I was greeted warmly and sat immediately. In fact, the color scheme was welcoming and I noted several of the improvements which I had seen on the show. The place was at about 25% capacity so I didn't expect any delays. The long drive had me famished and I could have eaten the ass off a dead rhinoceros! So I sat . . . . 8 minutes for my water . . . . . 15 minutes for my appetizer of fresh cheese curds. Now, here is where things actually get interesting; the curds were outstanding and the three home made sauces of spicy ketchup, honey mustard, and horseradish mayo were all quite flavorful! A pleasant surprise, but I wouldn't expect anything less from recipes by the great Chef Irvine. I ordered my burger at the same time as the appetizer so I expected to be served in short order. 

Chirp, chirp, chirp. 

With very little to do, the servers apparently concluded that they didn't need to participate in the actual practice of serving and my water ran dry. Where's Jesus when you need him? After 37 minutes, I noted that the booth behind me, which had been seated when I arrived, finally got their food. Not a good sign. 

Chirp, chirp, chirp.

48 minutes in and I flagged one of the ladies down and got a refill on my water. She apologized for the delay but had no conclusion as to the whereabouts of my burger. In the meantime, a young hippie family seated across from me had allowed their 4 year-old to play loud video games on their iPhone without regard to the rest of the clientele. My flaring nerves cast a look of such searing hatred towards the alleged father that he immediately grabbed the phone and turned it down (much to the dismay of his child). 

Chirp, chirp, chirp (at least it wasn't a stupid iPhone game anymore). 

72 minutes. ENOUGH! I got up and asked one of the servers for a status and they had no answer. I handed her cash to pay for my now digested and wanting released appetizer. Then I walked. Disappointed, hungry and pissed off!

This was, by far, the slowest service in burger history. I applaud Chef Irvine for his work, but perhaps he should have stayed home and allowed this one to fail because all he apparently did was prolong the misery. A  misery that, along with wanting loins of Joan Rivers and her plastic vagina, would only be satisfied by becoming the enslaved rodeo sex clown of Harry and his Gifted Bovines.