Welcome back to the weekly roundup here at Eating Our Words, where instead of eating those Valentine's conversation candy hearts, we're just gonna go ahead and wolf down a big ol' handful of chalk. Not as romantic, but significantly less sugar.
Laid up in the hospital? Going to visit someone who is? It's a well-known fact that hospital food is intentionally bad in order to drive away patients tempted to linger too long in their recoveries, so we found some places in the Medical Center area where the food is way better.
Always remember, kids: Fry cooks are a fragile, delicate breed whose sensitive feelings can be irreversibly damaged by even the slightest twinge of negativity in your tone. No wonder they tend to screw up even the simplest of requests, then; after our writer made the social faux pas of being very, very specific, we bet that poor cook was laid up in bed for days, sobbing and devouring tub after tub of Ben & Jerry's Crybaby Créme Creation™.
Waiters, on the other hand, just don't give a damn, so if you've got a ginormous entourage you need to feed, here's where you can go to make that happen. If, on the other hand, you've got what we like to call a "big one on deck," here's the five best restrooms in town. You blast a nice one out, there, chief. You lay one down for the ages.
We got a little nostalgic for a tasty soda named after one of America's most horrifying serial killers  and then enjoyed a nice pudding sandwich. That's right, Pink Floyd: now you can eat your pudding and your meat all at once!
We Believe Local Journalism is Critical to the Life of a City
Engaging with our readers is essential to the mission of the Houston Press. Make a financial contribution or sign up for a newsletter, and help us keep telling Houston’s stories with no paywalls.
Support Our Journalism
We sampled a couple of places for the first time this week, as our adventurous spirits so often allow us to do. We're also getting more and more into this Petrol Station place, which might just be the next Moon Tower, except not located in a desolate wasteland.
Finally, here are some suggestively named restaurants at which to get your Valentine's Day on, assuming you also have the sense of humor of a small child. I still can't believe someone opened up a place called "Big Red Cock." That gives me a great idea for what to call my inevitable food truck: "Hot, Throbbing, Purple Boner." See, we'll be serving fried fish with the bones in. And, uh, I guess we'll also have to dye them purple.
See you next week, and have an adequate Valentine's Day!