Juggalo Eats and a Quest for the Mystical Burrito Man
Note: this past weekend, the folks at our sister paper Riverfront Times ventured into the breach that is the Gathering of the Juggalos in Hardin County, Illinois. Rocks Off is amazed they made it out in one piece... especially considering the food on offer there.
Drew Ailes Wondering what's in a "stoner bowl?" Keep reading.
At the Gathering of the Juggalos, you face a different world. Out here, it's harder than ever to think of your overall health as it becomes more about shoving as much crap into your body before a spray-painted golf cart driven by a man wearing nothing but overalls crashes into you.
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If you're truly wise, the short-term questions like, "will this product make whiskey and bile shoot out of my nose" will still dart in and out of your conscious, non-reptilian brain.
I'm a gluttonous freak when it comes to food. I am the direct descendent of a man who once ate five pounds of lasagna over the course of five hours. So of course, I did what any decent journalist at a festival for drug-crazed and murderous clowns would do and gorged myself full of fried fat and processed sugar while studying the weird food of others.
I started with the pizza, which was not very good and was served in a disappointing, meager portion. The crust was bland but the sauce had a satisfying acidic taste. I did not get a picture of the slice that I threw up. However, the pizza sitting in the urinal should convey the right feeling I'm looking for. Curiously, the box for the pizza was right outside of the toilet, meaning someone opened the box up, took the pizza out, and smashed it into this urinal.
Drew Ailes Chicken on a stick! Drew Ailes Anarchist pretzels.
We capped off another evening of slamming warm beers and eating weak Jell-O shots with two helpings of Stoner Bowls.
Drew Ailes The stoner bowl. Drew Ailes The "walking taco."
Off the main drag, Juggalos also cooked up burgers and hot dogs on tiny grills, staring at us with apathy when asked if we could take a picture of their home-cooked cuisine. "they're just burgers, dawg," remarked a sunburnt kid wearing a matchy-matchy black and red t-shirt with black and red shorts. Another attendee cooked hot dogs, pork chops, and creamed corn in his tent.
On the third day of Juggalo Christmas, we heard the legend of The Burrito Guy, a creature hidden somewhere on the campgrounds that made the finest burritos known to man. Powered by an intense stomach-boner, I began asking person after person the next morning and afternoon where I could find The Burrito Man.
"I've been coming here for twelve years and I've never heard of that guy."
"I've heard of him. I've never seen him though. I think he's like, a unicorn or some shit." "I dunno, but they got burritos over at the turkey leg stand."
Our search for the burrito man continues on the next page.
Drew Ailes Skinny Vinny.
The guards had somehow ordered from the grill-master ahead of time and were picking up their goods just in time. We spoke to the chef himself behind the only haze of smoke that wasn't drug-related and learned he's a Juggalo that goes by Skinny Vinny, based out of New York. We listened intently as he rattled off the list of people at the festival going straight to him for food, including Violent J himself.
But no story of celebrity encounter and an underdog grill champion from a small town in New York could derail my determination. It was necessary to find and consume these mythical burritos. We met up with our trusted photographer, Nate "Igor" Smith, with the sole purpose of probing him for information. Quick on his feet, he immediately began leading us through alleyways of tents and campers. We stopped again to ask for help and got pointed into one direction. We peered into another tent and were sent the opposite direction.
Discouraged, we started talking about giving up. It was obviously a wild goose chase concocted to torture Gathering posers. Out of sheer desperation, we approached a dim tent in the distance with a guy on a megaphone trying to sell us drugs or beer or kicks in the balls, or whatever. We approached them and asked for help.
"Y'all are looking for the burrito guy, huh," one of them asked, talking softly with the megaphone now silenced. "I can give you directions."
"Take us to him and I'll buy you a burrito," I stammered without hesitation.
Nate "Igor" Smith Bill Huntsmen, the "burrito guy."
His name is Bill Huntsmen and he bravely plunged his hands from the warm girll into icy temperatures to sell us cans of Root Beer Faygo for only $1. He was humble, wise, and kind. He ran the operation with a real cool cat named Bruce Wayne Hall on behalf of the owner, Jesus Ayala. We watched as he separated slices of American cheese and gingerly placed them on tortillas freshly set on the flat-top.
This is the first year out of the past several that Ayala himself was unable to attend. As he is getting on in years, he stayed home this time, and the Alton, Illinois resident reportedly will soon move back down to Mexico. "He wants to go home and be with his family," Huntsmen explained.
The secret burrito recipe is Ayala's, who passed it on to Huntsmen and Hall. You can order them with varying degrees of heat, along a scale from one to ten. "I personally can't do more than a three," Huntsmen told us. "Jesus will try to get me to eat his habenero ones. He says 'they're not too hot.' I tell him 'yeah, not for you!'"
"Why do you think Mexicans live so long?" he continues. "They eat that hot stuff, and it kills all the bacteria in the body. Just flushes it right out."