Welcome back to the weekly roundup here at Eating Our Words, where our constant tinkering in God's domain is about to pay off with the imminent discovery of a FOURTH leche any day now. Right now, we think it will be part condensed milk, part goat cheese curd, and part anti-matter. The world is simply not ready.
We kicked the week off with our top five Indian restaurants, and even included a few with good buffets, surprisingly enough. Is it just me, or are most buffets complete shit? What's so hard about maintaining the tastiness of massive piles of mass-produced, preservative-laden food slowly rotting under heat lamps?
It's porch-sittin' weather, and we've listed Houston's best porches for you. Give me a porch with a good view and a well-made mimosa, and you just might see me turn into my alter ego, Mr. Fancypants.
Of course, if you want to see my other alter ego, Mr. Oh Christ I Think I'm Going To Explode And Die, take me to get some soul food. Or take me a to a tasting. Just take me anywhere, please. I miss you so much.
Brenner's held a wine festival, and much delicious wine was had, and much Prilosec and Aspirin was consumed thereafter. The worst heartburn and hangover I ever had was when I polished off a bottle and a half of Pinot Grigio in one night. Don't ask me why I do these things. By the time I realize what's going on, they just sort of seem to have happened already.
Disappointment briefly clouded an otherwise sunny week due to a bit of a debacle at The Tasting Room at City Centre, but luckily our spirits were lifted considerably by our own Menu of Menus event. We're allowed to enjoy our own parties. That's why we throw them.
Some places have really good parking. Other places, really bad. Still other places look like they were actually strafed by Messerschmitts. We listed five of the latter, and hopefully this will be just the shot in the arm to get them fixing up their respective situations. Hey, it worked when we criticized Mango's bathrooms! Hahaha, just kidding, of course it didn't, it's as much of a piss-soaked bog-ruin as ever it was.
How does one eat Nigerian cuisine? With ease, it turns out, and damned if those pictures won't make you want to give it a shot. Speaking of giving it a shot: What's Vietnamese and sounds like a dude spitting a marble at a bell? Pho Dung! I'm sorry that some languages strike me as more onomatopoetic than others. Please don't be offended. You'll get angry and, worst of all, I won't care.
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Easter candy battles? You bet we had 'em. For some reason the official stance of Eating Our Words is that a thin chocolate egg filled with unidentifiable goop is somehow more appetizing than a nice, wholesome marshmallow with a light dusting of sugar, so whatever. I at least agree with the list of the best Easter candies, right down to devouring your chocolate bunnies with plenty of peanut butter.
Drunken, crack-addicted hobos who run the government begging for more of your money? You can alleviate those tax-day blues with a delicious and cheap meal at Benjy's. Whatever you do, don't even joke about embezzling on your tax return. Talk about being eaten for lunch... don't ever screw with the IRS.