Dining Al Fresco

With a couple of weeks left in my current roto, I was getting pretty bored with the usual DFAC fare and suggested that we head on up to the Boardwalk for dinner. “We can try out some of the newer places. Everyone can get their dinner at a different vendor if they like and we’ll eat al fresco”, I enthused. J was initially reluctant but came around once I explained that “al fresco” does not mean “in the nude“.  Here’s a compendium of a few of the Non-DFAC purveyors of comestibles that I’ve patronized over the last little while.

And yes, I know what hotdogs are made of.

Juicy Gossip

We’d had a very slow work day so I’d actually gone to the Boardwalk for lunch too. Despite my earlier, less than stellar experience with Nathan’s I tried it again. This time the hotdog was really good; freshly made with a fresh-ish bun. I accompanied it with a Pineapple/Mango Juice from the Fresh Juice Bar. It was delicious and ice cream headache cold. I’d first tried the place a couple of days previously, opting for the “Cocktail” which is a combination of all their juices. J claimed they just use whatever they have left over while M insisted on calling it “counter sweepings“. Fuck ’em, it was good.

A after Z except in 26 point.

Yeah, so I’m a fan of the juice from the Fresh Juice place. They also sell a bunch of far less healthy treats including milkshakes, smoothies, and “blizzards/blizzerds”. I realize that the English language is difficult to learn and contains very inconsistent rules but one interesting quirk of which I was unaware is that the spelling of some words changes depending on the font size used. At least, I assume that’s what’s happening here. Why else would one sign have different spellings for the same damn word right adjacent to one another? I mean, for fuck’s sake, just look at the damn sign before making up new labels for it. BTW, “proteen” and “protein” are not the same thing.

McChrystal Light

A couple of weeks ago, I finally got over the new mini-boardwalk the Yanks have opened up next to the roundabout. I opted for a Whopper meal from Burger King and took it back to my room. The burger was dry and pretty tasteless. I felt slimy, slightly nauseous and disgusted with myself before consuming the last fry. The worst part was the greasy stench of stale french fries that permeated my room for a day and a half despite my having disposed of the detritus outside within 20 minutes of finishing the meal. Ironically, Burger Joint, on the real Boardwalk tastes more like a real world Burger King than Burger King.
What a Mezza

“One pizza, hold the apostrophes please.”

Now, back to our recent foray into the world of outdoor dining. I kinda figured it would be like eating in a food court in a mall and each of the four of us, J, M, S and I, would get something unique that I could blog about. Ever the helpful bunch, the other three all ordered a Supreme Pizza from Deli Fresh. Thanks for your support, guys. There was no way I could order from there, what with the bright expensive-looking sign that proclaimed that “All Pizza’s are sereved in 12″  pan style”. Ugh. The pizza, however, received rave reviews. I tried a piece and it is undoubtedly the best American style pizza in KAF. While I hate Europe’s electrical standard, propensity for not always speaking English and ridiculous road sign conventions and I can’t abide A-4 paper, I do prefer the European style thin crust pizza offered by Mamma Mia’s. I guess I’m just more cosmopolitan and culturally tolerant than the others.</div?

I’m also more adventurous and at least a little concerned about my feelings and need for blog material so I tried out Mezza. At first glance it appears to have a pretty extensive menu. Everything from pizza and other Mediterranean thingies to Mexican tacos. It turns out, however, that everything on the menu consists of pizza dough with shit on it. Sure, the shit varies from item to item but the dough doesn’t.

Does that look like a taco to you?

Their idea of variety is, apparently, folding the dough in different ways around the shit they put on it. Essentially, it’s all pizza or folded up pizza. Call me crazy, but I didn’t gather this from their sign with the picture of delicious looking crispy corn tortilla tacos on it. I naively ordered the “Mexican” tacos. Thanks for the pizza, assholes. The spice in the meat was vaguely reminiscent of tacos I’ve had at other places that make shitty tacos but at least the lettuce and tomatoes were fresh. The salsa was unsurprisingly nondescript given it’s complete and utter absence. I shall not be darkening their tiny order window again.

Ce N’est Pas Juste

Makes me want a Jos Luis

For those non-Canadians out there who may not be aware, Canada has a province (a province is sorta like a U.S. state but with better beer and free health care) that is primarily French-speaking. That is Quebec. What makes Quebec even more unique is that it is the only place on the planet where Pepsi outsells Coke. This, along with Celine Dion, are the two things about Quebec that are unfathomable to Canadian English-speakers. I was born in Quebec and, despite having been spirited out of the province at the age of two under a government sponsored, Coke funded plan to undermine the FLQ, la Belle Province still holds a special place in my heart. Imagine then, my dismay in seeing the blatant lingual discrimination which pervades Kandahar Fresh Deli’s soft drink culture. To wit: S, a proud francophone, ordered a Pepsi in accordance Quebec law while J ordered a Coke. A 330ml Coke and a 300ml Pepsi for the same price? Tabernacle! Don’t be a h8er, Fresh Deli.

That’s Crazy

A sundae of questionable mental health.

After gorging himself on pizza, M went to Cold Mountain Ice Cream to get dessert. His conversation with the ice cream guy went something like this:

M: “Hi, a strawberry sundae, please”
ICG: “Crazy Strawberry?”
M: “Well, I just want strawberry”.
ICG: “Crazy Strawberry!”
M:”Um, yeah, well, if that’s just a regular sundae, ok”.
ICG: “Crazy Strawberry”.
M reported that his sundae was crazy delicious.

You’ve Got To Fight For Your Right…

Is the reception at the bus station?

On our way to the Boardwalk there were a couple of amusing sights. I’m not much of a romantic and certainly don’t believe in spending huge amounts of money on a wedding but there are depths of frugality to which even I won’t sink. If this is the transportation your future husband arranged for the wedding party, you may want to reconsider marrying a junkie. And, while I’ve gone to some pretty shady parties in some pretty scary locales in my time, I don’t think I’d hop on board this crazy train looking for a good time.

Karaoke sober!?! Never heard tell of that before.

Some people, however, know how to have a fun-ish time. We passed by this par-tay on our way to the boardwalk. The karaoke was just getting cranked up, the Pringles were being passed around and the near beer was flowing. It was still going on…in the kinda miserably gala way all KAF parties go on…as we walked home. It was cheery and sad all at once. I know all too well the feeling… “Hey, this is a nice change from the usual tedium…but I wish this was real beer and I was anywhere but KAF…Pass the fucking Pringles.”

Bottom Line

That pretty much sums up this country, Phil.

A change is as good as a rest…unless you’re stuck in KAF and your taco turns out to be a fucking pizza.

“...the air imbued with the scent of manure and a sense of fatalism”- Capt Philip Schneider in Stars and Stripes.

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6 thoughts on “Dining Al Fresco

  1. Tacos will be served on your arrival home, and not on pizza dough either. Promise.
    Another funny/kind of awful blog post. You have me feeling guilty for laughing every time…
    Doesn’t stop me though, FYI.

  2. My husband is at KAF and sent me a link to your blog. I like reading it because it makes war seem not so scary for us here waiting for their return home. Thanks for putting some humor into the situation! I will have to ask if he has eaten at Mezza 🙂

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