Food Review--World Cuisine

In this blog I've reviewed music, TV, and movies, and so the natural progression seemed to be what I do when I watch my shows and listen to my songs.  In short, I will review food in this post.  And not just any food.  I'm starting with world cuisine.

Because this is my first food review, I wanted to start with a restaurant that we can find all over the world.  A place respected by the upper classes and the lower, Protestant and Muslim, African and Eskimo, midgets and giants alike.

So I did my research, and I'll be honest.  The results surprised me.  The top contender was a place that serves mostly hamburgers, chicken sandwiches, and french fries.

Upon entering the establishment, I was instantly impressed.  I also regretted not bringing my sunglasses.  The electric shine of the offerings, backlit by searchlights, overwhelmed the senses.  And yet the sense of class was undeniable--from the smile and greeting of the waiter behind the register ("Help you, sir?"), to the bustle of activity in the open kitchen, to the sizzle and pop of frying food, to the heartbreaking architecture.  Somewhere in that restaurant--perhaps where the shine of pink floor tile meets the yellow-and-white checkerboard plastic wall--I became an advocate for this hauntingly wonderful place.

And I hadn't even ordered yet.  I opted for the magic of Number One, regular size, with sugar water and no ice.  Then I headed immediately home.  The plastic chairs, despite their inherent artistic value, would not appeal to my spine.

Here's what they gave me:

The sandwich, french fries, and the cup of sugar water (called Coca Cola) complemented each other like a dark comedy containing midgets filmed by the Coen brothers.

I took my first bite:

I kept a notebook next to my table in order to record my thoughts as I ate.  This is what I found in that notebook:  Incredible!  Fantastic!  Holy fucking shit.

I took a second bite:

BEST.  FOOD.  I.  HAVE.  EVER.  TASTED.

If you've never tried this place, I recommend that you run to the nearest street, hijack the nearest bicyclist, and start pedaling toward the nearest yellow M on the horizon.  You're welcome in advance.