$10/hr foodie

a food blog for cheapskates!

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

I am terrible at this! I really commend food bloggers that are able to eat out, cook, write a blog everyday, or twice a day, or every other day. Between student, work, and boyfriend responsibilities I barely have time to eat at all! So let's talk about Zach's Hot Dog Shack -- which I went to about a month ago now. I went there with my devastatingly handsome mushtache-wielding friend Pete, and one of his mega-foodie friends, so foodie it's scary, Chris. I remember from my beer haze something about only eating steak from kobe beef, and something about a $1,000 hamburger in Las Vegas. Anyway, on with the dogs.

Now first let me clarify, hot dogs have got to be the most repugnant food on the planet. I hesitate to even call them food. If I'm feeling trashy and want some pigs in a blanket I will substitute vegetarian hot dogs. I don't eat them is what I'm trying to say, but I do when I've had a few beers! I had a chili dog. Holy yum. A nice flavorful hot dog, with a good crunch going into it which leads me to think that it might be natural casing. Bonus points for that. The other place where Zach's scored points is that the bun stood up perfectly to the chili. I was nervous that I might just have a big, sloppy mess, but this sturdy bun held it all together! The only bad part was the temperature of the chili. It really could've been hotter. Why is it that whenever you got a chili dog or hamburger with chili on it the chili is always cooler than the hot dog or hamburger? I've had this experience a few times now.

Now on to last nights pasta salad. It started out beautifully until I added the goat feta crumbles. I knew I should've saved them for putting on top, and not mixed them in but I just couldn't help myself! Needless to say the ugliest pasta salad in the world turned out to be delicious. It had fresh herbs from my mini indoor herb garden: parsley, purple basil, and regular basil. Olive oil, vinegar, lemon juice, garlic, goatzarella, roasted red peppers, soprassata, chick peas, and asparagus. Its base was a $.69 bag of penne from Trader Joe's. How do we love thee Trader Joe's? You make everything so delightfully cheap for us.

Now, off to the Farmer's Market!

4 Comments:

  • At 10:12 AM, Blogger Pete said…

    I have been asked to serve as a guest-reviewer on this most hallowed of Internet journals, by way of giving an additional perspective on Katie's and my shared religious experience at what I have come to know as Zach's Holy Church of the Dog of the Snapping.

    I, unlike my esteemed colleague, have no high qualms about dog-consumption. I am no stranger to the great rift which exists between the Ballpark, the Hebrew National, and the Real Chicago Hotdog. I have been to Wolfy’s and I have seen the Promised Land, and I will not lie to you ladies and gentlemen: I have a DREAM… about hotdogs. It is a recurring nightmare actually and that is all I want to say about it right now but the point is that for years I have been waiting patiently and without much hope of reward for a Real Fucking Hotdog to become available in our humble west-coast town of Portland, Oregon.

    Apparently, instead of waiting around like a loser, I should have been sitting on Hawthorne Boulevard, slurping down dogs like some $3.50 whore. Because let me tell you, folks, $3.50 has never before bought such heavenly pleasures as this overly-modest establishment now offers forth to the people of this city.

    Since the excursion I shared with Katie, I have made an additional pilgrimage and indulged myself on two other dogs. So far I have undergone the following three rites:

    Chicago dog: Yellow Mustard, Green Relish, Sport Peppers, Pickle Spear, Onion, Tomato, Celery Salt

    New York dog: Cheddar Cheese, Yellow Mustard, Onion, Chile

    And this week’s special, the Pteranodog: Tomatoes, Sour Cream, Pepproncinis, and I forget what else.

    The New York dog, incidentally Katie’s order of choice, was the most ordinary of the three. The foundation – the dog, that is – was flawless. Flavorful, crispy, and just chewy enough to make you stop and savor. I don’t totally agree with Katie about the bun, which could have been a bit larger and tougher if this were to be an ideal chilidog. But this is not a chilidog joint, it is a hotdog joint – so let’s move on.

    The Chicago dog did a victory-dance on my tastebuds, wiggling its saucy athletic ass right in my face and allowing me to breathe in its aromatic goodness. You have to be ready for the experience of a colorful hotdog like this one, but if you know what to expect you will get all you imagined and more. My advice is to just let go and enjoy the ride.

    The Pteranodog is a testimony to the depth of my devotion to Zach’s Shack. I ordered it purely on faith, despite my low personal regard for fresh tomatoes and my distrust for the unlikely partnership of Dog and Sour Cream. Indeed, few of the ingredients would have served well as ordinary toppings, but as a team they operated in perfect harmony. I lack the gustatory vocabulary to describe the complex interactions between these disparate flavors, but I offer a solemn warning: you must get some of each ingredient in every bite or the magic will vanish and you will be left alone, asking yourself deep existential questions about that which might have been.

    I don’t need to tell you to go to Zach’s Shack. I don’t even need to tell you what to order. I place my trust in the Providence of God, to bring righteous souls across this humble blog-comment and to let them See the Truth. Zach’s Shack Hotdogs is the Word, and the Word is good.

    www.zachsshack.net

     
  • At 10:17 AM, Blogger Pete said…

    Oh, Katie also wanted me to show you guys the moustache which I created in honor of a gay-themed party and then adopted as my own. It is a great weapon for Justice:

    Me

    Me and some faggots

     
  • At 5:44 PM, Blogger katie said…

    Oh dear lord, peter. that was fabulous! You can guest write anytime because you are a much better writer than I am.

    Perhaps our disagreement over the buns is an issue of sobriety? Although, I agree, it's not a terribly interesting bun.

    P.S. I baked a cake. If you're nice I'll let you come over and eat some.

     
  • At 6:24 AM, Blogger Pete said…

    Thanks to your kind comments I have bucked up the courage to finally fulfill my lifelong dream and start my very own food blog. Please don't be too hard on it, it's my first time.

    http://eat-food.blogspot.com/

     

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