Welcome back to the weekly roundup here at Eating Our Words, where all jokes are served up fried in a light, crispy breading with a side of coleslaw. We started the week off right, with some hilariously bungled recipes from one of those little local cookbooks you sometimes see in secondhand stores and garage sales and feature things like "Candied Pig Snouts with Caramel-Stuffed Artichokes" or, in this case, "Jellied Clear Green Turtle Soup." Sweet Jesus! It's an abomination of flavor!
We had quite a few excursions into nostalgia this week, with the Anachronistic Chef putting in another appearance, and a look at some appropriate snacks for when you sit down to watch Mad Men. Just yesterday we had a look at the top 5 cereal commercials of the '80s, because enough time has gone by that people actually remember the '80s fondly, as opposed to being the goddamn terrifying horrorshow of neon, synthesizers and atomic paranoia it was. Look, even Sting had to write a song about how we shouldn't nuke everyone, okay? That's how it was in the '80s, kids.
Ahem. There was a barbecue smackdown nobody invited us to, not that it matters, you assholes. We also had a look at what to do with leftover crawfish, because if anything is meant to be sitting in your fridge for long periods of time, it's crawfish.
Textile is going to be moving and changing up its format a bit, so look for a ton of nostalgic comments from readers about how awesome and virginally unblemished its current incarnation was in about a year.
Apparently you can get food at Marshall's? What's the deal, is it hidden somewhere on the clearance aisle among all the drastically price-slashed Ed Hardy and Tapout shirts? That's as weird as salmon-flavored vodka. Oh, look.
Prepare for excellent food and overpriced iced tea at Mockingbird Grill, not to be confused with "Mockingbird Girl," a '90s grunge-pop song featuring Scott Weiland ripping off Matthew Sweet. Also prepare for a hell of a busy morning if you eat any of our power breakfasts. Honestly, we'd eat that waffle sandwich any time of the day. Perhaps that's why we're shaped like we are.
No one's gonna hold it against you if you stuff your face at a funeral. Another good place to do that would be Vic & Anthony's, where the seats recline so you can have a post-smorgasbord nap. Okay, we're being told that's not true, we simply cracked our chair and passed out. Shit. We really need to start hitting the gym.
Or we could start eating vegetarian, which is about as likely as Bobby Heugel suddenly moving to Mule Fart, Alabama and opening a wholesale malt liquor emporium, or Ernie's on Banks closing down and being replaced by a swankier bar. Ha ha! The ridiculousness of it all!
Keep the Houston Press Free... Since we started the Houston Press, it has been defined as the free, independent voice of Houston, and we would like to keep it that way. Offering our readers free access to incisive coverage of local news, food and culture. Producing stories on everything from political scandals to the hottest new bands, with gutsy reporting, stylish writing, and staffers who've won everything from the Society of Professional Journalists' Sigma Delta Chi feature-writing award to the Casey Medal for Meritorious Journalism. But with local journalism's existence under siege and advertising revenue setbacks having a larger impact, it is important now more than ever for us to rally support behind funding our local journalism. You can help by participating in our "I Support" membership program, allowing us to keep covering Houston with no paywalls.