birthdays,
food,
getting old,
new york,
traveling
Amy and Peter Go to White Castle
Tuesday, May 03, 2011
Instead of waxing poetic about all the awesomeness that was New York this past weekend, I am going to tell you about the one big disappointment of the trip: White Castle.
First of all let's rewind back about, ohhh, six or seven years. I decided to rent a movie and drink a jumbo jug of the cheapest wine I could get my underpaid paws on. With jug in hand, I headed to the video store, and apparently already under the influence of something or other I selected Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle. What prompted me to get this movie I'll never know. Growing up in Le Grand Blanc Nord we don't have White Castle and I had never been to one but was curious to see what the fuss was about.
Back at the ranch I proceeded to get shittered while watching this cinematic abomination, AND I LOVED IT. I laughed until I cried. I thought it was the funniest movie I had ever seen. And while I was not high, at least not without a prescription, I wanted some of those little White Castle burgers. They looked adorable. I'd never seen tiny burgers before. And the lengths Harold and Kumar went to to get White Castle? I figured it had to be good.
Fast forward to last week when Peter and I were making our list of must-do things for New York. Sadly, a lot of them revolved around food, i.e. Magnolia Bakery, authentic New York City-style pizza (which we never ended up having, sad trombone) and yes, WHITE CASTLE. There are apparently three locations in the city so we marked down the one on 8th Avenue. We went on Saturday after walking around the city for hours and we were famished and so ready to devour some of those succulent little burgers to see just how delicious they would be.
This was one of the dirtiest eating establishments I've been in, but never mind that - the food was absolutely awful. The food was disgusting. It was so bad that PETER, who can eat two double quarter pounders AND large fries AND not die, didn't finish his meal despite being starving. It was like sweaty buns with a slice of ham on them. They didn't look good, smell good, or taste good. So not worth the trek.
I don't know what Harold and Kumar were thinking. Granted, they were high in the movie, as I suspect most of the customers and staff were when we showed up there on Saturday afternoon judging from the CRACK DEAL we saw and overheard. Maybe this is an everyday thing in some places but I have never seen crack, let alone crack being purchased loudly in the middle of a fast-food restaurant at one-thirty in the afternoon. I thought those sorts of things were supposed to be kind of quiet? Back alleys and the cover of darkness and whatnot? Maybe we didn't appreciate the food because there weren't enough drugs in our systems. Or maybe it just sucks.
First of all let's rewind back about, ohhh, six or seven years. I decided to rent a movie and drink a jumbo jug of the cheapest wine I could get my underpaid paws on. With jug in hand, I headed to the video store, and apparently already under the influence of something or other I selected Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle. What prompted me to get this movie I'll never know. Growing up in Le Grand Blanc Nord we don't have White Castle and I had never been to one but was curious to see what the fuss was about.
Back at the ranch I proceeded to get shittered while watching this cinematic abomination, AND I LOVED IT. I laughed until I cried. I thought it was the funniest movie I had ever seen. And while I was not high, at least not without a prescription, I wanted some of those little White Castle burgers. They looked adorable. I'd never seen tiny burgers before. And the lengths Harold and Kumar went to to get White Castle? I figured it had to be good.
Fast forward to last week when Peter and I were making our list of must-do things for New York. Sadly, a lot of them revolved around food, i.e. Magnolia Bakery, authentic New York City-style pizza (which we never ended up having, sad trombone) and yes, WHITE CASTLE. There are apparently three locations in the city so we marked down the one on 8th Avenue. We went on Saturday after walking around the city for hours and we were famished and so ready to devour some of those succulent little burgers to see just how delicious they would be.
This was one of the dirtiest eating establishments I've been in, but never mind that - the food was absolutely awful. The food was disgusting. It was so bad that PETER, who can eat two double quarter pounders AND large fries AND not die, didn't finish his meal despite being starving. It was like sweaty buns with a slice of ham on them. They didn't look good, smell good, or taste good. So not worth the trek.
I don't know what Harold and Kumar were thinking. Granted, they were high in the movie, as I suspect most of the customers and staff were when we showed up there on Saturday afternoon judging from the CRACK DEAL we saw and overheard. Maybe this is an everyday thing in some places but I have never seen crack, let alone crack being purchased loudly in the middle of a fast-food restaurant at one-thirty in the afternoon. I thought those sorts of things were supposed to be kind of quiet? Back alleys and the cover of darkness and whatnot? Maybe we didn't appreciate the food because there weren't enough drugs in our systems. Or maybe it just sucks.
