Welcome back to the weekly round-up here at Eating Our Words, where today we're contemplating the design of the turtle, and thinking perhaps creatures known for making good soup shouldn't be walking around with their own bowl strapped to their backs. We're also contemplating entering the Cooking Fail contest, although to make it fair, the Shameless Chef has promised not to submit an entry.
Ruthie Johnson enjoyed some pupusas at La Pupusa Alegre, which we understand are fried Monarch butterfly cocoons. Crispy with a chewy center! Becky Means ordered the duck at Auntie Chang's, which led to a series of madcap misunderstandings wherein people kept ducking whenever her order was called out.
After a quick batch of crepes and an even quicker notice on how awesome the Gulf's oysters are gonna be this year, we took a look at some finger limes, which you eat sort of like how you eat crawfish, with the added bonus that you don't have to de-turd them first.
Make sure you get tickets now for Eating Our Words' Cupcake Smackdown on January 24. Will there be a crowning ceremony of the first ever Eating Our Words Cupcake King? You bet your ass there will be. It's gonna be epic.
The thing about Indian food is, when it's good, it's great, but when it's bad, it's a stomach-detonating abomination. Unfortunately, Robb experienced the latter at Chutney's. Countdown to the owner piping up in the comments under a fake name and defending said shithole in 5... 4... 3... 2...
HISD Superintendent Terry Griers sang the Banana Song recently, but we'd have frankly preferred the Nannerpuss song. The Shameless Chef managed to crawl out from under his traditional Tuesday morning hangover long enough to make some dirt pudding, accompanied by his nephew Randy, whom we know for a fact does not exist.
Mike Morris sampled Lagunitas Brewing Company's Cappuccino Stout, and Robb put together his own plate of charcuterie, which is a fancy word for "meat plate," so it rules. Becky provided four home remedies for beating a cold, which came in handy earlier this week when a brief Ice Age hit Houston and the whole city froze over and the empty streets looked like the opening shot from 12 Monkeys.
Meatballs are the bacon of 2010, and Robb had a look at some this week. Katharine Shilcutt listed the top ten places to eat on Long Point, and Robb spent a couple of days drinking. And drinking. This really is a pretty sweet gig at times.
Deep-fried hot dog. Sweet Jesus.
Jane listed some hot sauces that will make you cry like a baby. In other news, Jane apparently feeds her baby hot sauce, and TWiD has called the police. Geri Maria Harris pitted regular whitish pasta against whole wheat pasta and, in a beautiful metaphor for racial harmony, discovered that both are tasty.
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Greenway Barista chatted with Brandi Key of Pappas before picking up some N'awlins groceries, and Robb was pleased to learn that he no longer has to mule mole into the country, which is probably pretty good news for the foreign-substance-sniffing dogs at the airport.
Paul Knight was thoroughly cougared-upon in his first (and probably last) outing to Shuck Daddy's, and Robb looked into introducing your family pet to the BARF diet. This week's Food Fight compared discount sushi joints, which... if ever there is any dish on which to splurge, you'd think raw fish would be it. But whatever, it's Katharine's gastrointestinal system, not ours.
Jason Kerr toured Kegg's Candy Factory in a joyful excursion of childlike whimsy that suddenly, for no reason, turned completely goddamn terrifying during the boat ride. To close out the week, Margaret Downing took a first look at Laurenzo's Grille, and Katharine schooled everyone on proper sandwich construction. We agree with her, for the most part, and we would only add that potato bread is permitted whenever, because yum.
'Scuse us, we're gonna go eat a ton of potato bread now.