Our customer didn’t require our services today so, after getting up at 6 and dealing with the usual overnight influx of emails, I went back to bed. Awakening at 9:30, I’d missed breakfast. So, after a delicious morning snack of corn chips and salsa in my room, I went to the boardwalk to get lunch.
It Ain’t Pop’s or Arnold’s
A few months after Gen McChrystal shut down Burger King and several other fast food joints in 2010, the “Burger Joint” opened up. I hadn’t eaten there yet so I figured today was my chance. I don’t know about you, but when I hear of a “burger joint”, an image from 1950’s America comes to mind. One expects to run into Archie and Betty (or maybe that slut Veronica) sharing a malted while the Fonz hangs out at the jukebox.
The KAF Burger Joint doesn’t quite have the same ambiance. Most of the patrons here are armed and I just can’t picture Jughead rockin’ an M-16. The closest thing to a jukebox is the incongruous and annoying rap music being broadcast over the tinny boardwalk speakers. This overly loud “music” does nothing to help the poor lad trying to hand out the orders.
The Burger Joint has one window for ordering and one where you pick up your order when your receipt number is called. Fortunately, they don’t use the Dutch numbering sequence; unfortunately, the order-handing-out-guy has a pretty strong South Asian accent. He’ll call out something that sounds like “firzy-fight” over the din of some obscure “band” tinnily yelling something about booty. The many patrons awaiting orders then glance nervously around to see if anyone else is moving towards the window. Eventually, someone goes up and hands the guy their receipt who then shakes his head and says “firzy-fight” again. Finally, someone with number 35 will realize their order is ready and pick it up.
There’s also some confusion going on behind the windows. The order-taking-guy will place a bag of food with the receipt underneath it in front of the order-handing-out-guy. It would seem to me that all that has to happen now is for the order-handing-out-guy to read the number on the receipt and yell “tenny-say-when” or some such. Instead, with the handing over of every bag an intense conversation between the order-taking-guy and the order-handing-out-guy ensued. Then, the bags would pile up as the order-handing-out-guy’s look of perplexity intensified until he’d finally call out the mystery number. Oh, and make sure you ask for your drink that comes with the meal, otherwise you won’t get it.
I’ve mentioned before that we’ve been asked not to eat or drink outside because of Ramadan. So, I rushed back to my room to eat my burger and fries before they got too hot. I gotta say, that what the Burger Joint lacks in Riverdaliness it makes up for with an authentic fast food taste. The fries were similar to what one would get at a McDonald’s and were made even better with a dash of some gourmet Fleur de Sel finishing salt from my secret stash. The burger was somewhat reminiscent of Burger King but actually a little better. The whole meal, complete with pop which I remembered to ask for, was only $6.50. That’s less than I’d pay at home for the same thing.
J, M and I went to Cambridge for dinner tonight. The menu had steak and something called Chicken Gentos. It was a slightly spicy, pretty tasty stir fry of dried out chicken and peppers. Where the hell do they get off calling it Chicken Gentos? That’s not a thing. Go ahead and google it. The only exact hit is for an incomprehensible yet creepy youtube video. If Google doesn’t know what it is then it doesn’t exist. J unhelpfully suggested that it was a messed up phonetic spelling of “chicken genitals” (and no, that was not the inspiration for this section’s title). While this seemed unlikely, one never knows in a land where chicken ass is considered an acceptable entree. Most likely it is a misspelling of Gen Tso’s Chicken even though they were missing that dish’s trademark sticky sauce.
I went for the cheesecake for dessert and it actually contained cream cheese. I really think those DFAC cooks are starting to read this blog. There was also some Jello which I was going to pass on until I saw the “This Product Contains Nuts” sign above it. “Nut Jello? What the hell? I gotta try this” I thought. When I got back to the table, I tried it and while the taste was not readily identifiable due to it being improperly mixed again, it was definitely some sort of fruit. When I pondered aloud “How the hell do nuts get into Jello?” J, harkening back to his “Gentos” theory, suggested “maybe it got too close to the chicken”.
Line Haikus (why not?)
Burger Joint tastes great
Though the music really sucks
And confusion reigns
Cambridge is confused
Why are there nuts in Jello?
Gentos is made up