Off the Map: Too Much Like a Brick

Panzarotti -- Franco's Place, Haddonfield, NJ
Franco's Place
The Original Tarantini Panzarotti Company

Well, this settles it: Best Thing I Ever Ate is officially trying to get us killed.

Going to Harlem in the name of barbeque is one thing; venturing to Camden for a fried pizza is a whole other ball game.

Nothing Like Losing Your Life in the Name of Deep-Fried Pepperoni

If there is anything that is drilled into the head of any South Jersey suburban child, it is one phrase: Don't go to Camden.  This philosophy is instilled in us at such a young age that one time in high school, when Vodka and her friend, the infamous Bloody Mary, accidentally stumbled upon a "You are now entering the City of Camden" sign while driving, the sight resulted in nothing less than a piercing scream of horror from both of them.  Suffice it to say that Camden is always at the top of the Most Dangerous Cities list and is not exactly a world-renowned culinary destination.

We Hear Camden is Lovely This Time of Year...?

And since Camden, in the form of Panzarotti Pizza King, appears on the WITH MY HANDS episode of Best Thing I Ever Ate, we are now convinced that the Food Network is trying to kill off its viewership.

Or At Least Its Two Most Idiotic Members

Luckily, prior to risking her life and the future of this blog in Camden, Vodka stumbled upon an important piece of knowledge: Panzarotti Pizza King does not create their own panzarotti.  They merely cook those sent to them by the main panzarotti distributor, The Original Tarantini Panzarotti, whose goods are available across the Philadelphia area.

In dozens upon dozens of places that are NOT Camden, NJ.

Thanks for choosing the most terrifying location of them all, Aaron McCargo, Jr.

Here's a Tip: Camden Doesn't Look Like This

Vodka instead heads over to Franco's Place in Haddonfield, NJ, which is about as far a cry from Camden, NJ as one can get.

In Other Words, Haddonfield = the Set of Gilmore Girls

Franco's, while not exactly a Michelin Star locale, is perfect for one reason: they serve Tarantini Panzarotti, and they feature this fact prominently in their windows.

Panzarotti Are the Main Franco's Attraction: Display #1...

...and Display #2

Vodka's mother has placed their order by phone for Vodka to pick up on her way home from her hair appointment (an important South Jersey homecoming ritual if ever there was one).  When Vodka enters Franco's, a paper bag of steaming hot panzarotti awaits her.

The Classiest Meals Get Served Via Doggie Bag

We have ordered four panzarotti total for sampling purposes: pepperoni, sweet sausage, white, and Philly cheesesteak.

And Needless to Say, We Didn't Go with the Mini Option

So imagine Vodka's surprise when she unpacks the bag on the kitchen table only to find a styrofoam container of non-panzarotti greeting her.

Aaron McCargo, Jr. Did Not Eat This!

"What is this?" she asks her mother, as if she is incapable of recognizing French fries.

Ask the Above Question in Your Most Accusatory Tone for a More Realistic Interpretation

"Oh, I ordered bacon cheese fries, too," her mom answers.  Indeed, as Vodka continues to unpack the bag, she finds the correct four panzarotti underneath said fries and begins her photographic rampage.

Must Take Photo of Each Panzarotti Separately...

...Because They All Look So Different?

Playing the role of Ginger tonight is Vodka's father, who seems hellbent on reaching a hand, arm, or panzarotti across the table at the exact moment when Vodka is about to snap the photo, distorting the background every time.

Shadows Cropped Out To Protect the Guilty

When everyone is finally allowed to dive in, we find that the average butter knife is not nearly strong enough to break through the panzarotti shell.  Eventually resorting to biting in directly, we find each panzarotti stuffed with a plethora of cheese and grease, plus, of course, their assorted toppings.

PacMan Spilling His Guts

First up, the pepperoni panzarotti features more pepperoni than could be found on a large pizza, all folded and crammed in beside the mozzarella cheese and tomato sauce.  Combined with the crispy pull of the fried outer dough, the whole creation is a wonder of the senses.

And a Wonder to the Scale the Next Morning

Vibrant and red to look at and steaming on the fingers, the panzarotti manages to stay together as one form despite every obstacle, and it is much easier to eat than a runny calzone (and in some cases, pizza itself).

All Food Should Come in Pocket Form

The pepperoni and white varieties are Vodka's favorites, as the white is stuffed full of nothing but gooping layers of cheese and hearty balls of garlic.

Anything Featuring This Much Cheese Can Never Be Bad

The sausage panzarotti is overflowing with meat, which somehow appears more sliced than sausage-like, and thus packs every bite with a hit of sweet meatiness.

A Festival of Meat

Finally, the cheesesteak version has steak, fried onions, and Cheez Whiz instead of mozzarella cheese (and the Cheez Whiz tends to hide itself in the corners of the panzarotti square).

Heaven Forbid We Don't Have a Cheesesteak Version of Everything in South Jersey

Each of the panzarotti is tasty in its own way (and the bacon cheese fries which are crashing this party aren't bad either).

Not Your Typical Jimmy Dean Sausage

At least, Vodka and her mother think they're good, as they bite into a rotating cast of the four varieties long after her dad has left the table, summing up his panzarotti experience as being "too much like a brick" (and with pointed assessments like that, we believe the NY Times food critics should start fearing for their job security).

A Panzarotti Tasting Menu

The next morning, Vodka returns to the refrigerator for panzarotti leftovers, knowing that the true test of any good pizza dish is its ability to be eaten cold in one's pajamas in the early hours of the day.  Biting into the white variety, Vodka finds that it has indeed withstood the night, tasting more than ever like a pizza wrapped up in a fried eggroll (a glowing comparison by our standards).

Everything Should Taste Like an Eggroll

In sum, it is now clear to Vodka why the Tarantini Panzarotti has become a South Jersey staple; what she does not understand is why anyone would ever go to Camden in order to find one.

Franco's Place's Panzarotti: 4 stars

Braving Extinction in Harlem

Half BBQ Chicken -- Dinosaur Bar-B-Que
Dinosaur Bar-B-Que

This just in, folks: we have made it to Harlem.

What We Won't Do in the Name of Best Thing I Ever Ate

As our venture to Queens might have indicated, we are apparently more adept at getting ourselves across the country than we are at braving the boroughs of New York City.  And while, yes, Harlem is technically in Manhattan, the fact that it features above-ground subway trains indicates to us that it is out of our element.

What Is This Foreign Land of Which Adam Gertler Speaks?

For these reasons, it is no small feat that we have made it to Dinosaur Bar-B-Que in hopes of eating the half BBQ chicken, as recommended by Adam Gertler on the BAR-B-QUE episode of Best Thing I Ever Ate.  On our way from the monorail-like subway to Dinosaur, we are nearly plowed down by a man driving straight down the sidewalk in his quest for the McDonald's drive-thru window.  Thanks for welcoming us to Harlem in style, buddy.

Supersize Us

We enter Dinosaur and check in for our reservation (yes, Dinosaur Bar-B-Que takes reservations.  Color us shocked, too).  Though we are 45 minutes early (as we believe it takes us a full hour to make the trek to Harlem), the hostess seats us right away at a large, comfortable booth.

"I love a booth," Ginger states as we make ourselves at home.

"Automatic 5 stars," Vodka agrees.  Note to other restaurants of the world: always give us spacious accommodations -- we like to feel like we're dining in the suburbs.

Applebee's: Harlem Edition

Completely overwhelmed by the prolific food menu, we hone in on the (cheap -- thanks Harlem) list of cocktails.

A Girl's Gotta Have Priorities

"I'm surprised they don't serve boxed wine here," Vodka comments.  "I feel like it would fit in."  In the absence of cardboard-encased wine, we settle on a Tequila Sunset and a White Cranberry-Tini, both of which taste decidedly like juice (aka delicious).

SunnyD Takes on the Bar

"You know, I have found that I rarely refuse a drink," Ginger states.  "Whenever someone asks if we're drinking at a meal, I always answer 'yes.'"  And based on the proliferation of day-drinkers surrounding us at Dinosaur Bar-B-Que, we find that we are one with their clientele.

Day Drinkers and Big Eaters? These Are Our Kinds of People

When our waitress helps us make sense of the food menu, we choose the Big House Special, which includes both our desired half BBQ chicken (apple brined, pit smoked, and slathered with original BBQ sauce) and a 1/4-rack of Dinosaur's famous ribs.

T-Rex Sized Dinner

Because one enormous plate of meat is obviously not enough to satiate us, we also order the Texas Brisket Plate, served with house-cured jalapenos.  Each of our platters come with two sides, so we pick the coleslaw, bar-b-que beans with pork, mac and cheese, and cajun corn.

Did We Mention We Also Get Free Corn Bread? Someone Alert Overeaters Anonymous

And with all of that, we are officially deemed "pigs."

Pull Up the Trough, It's Feeding Time

Our enormous, Hungry Man-style meal arrive within minutes, and Ginger gets down to the business of sampling bar-b-que sauces while Vodka proves to be the only fool in the joint photographing Dinosaur's creations.

We Need to Create Some Invisible Friends to Explain This Portion Size

When Vodka is satisfied with her documentation, we taste the chicken first so as to not taint our palates with the other dishes.  Each cutting off a small piece of meat, we dip it in one of our assembled sauces and dive in.

Don't Get Saucy with Us

Now, as previously stated, we believe that anyone who chooses chicken as the "best thing they ever ate" is playing with fire.  After all, it is just chicken, and how exciting can chicken really be (fried chicken aside, because fried chicken is always exciting)?

Oh Poultry, Why So Dull?

At Dinosaur Bar-B-Que, our chicken-based apathy finally comes to an end.  The meat is moist and tender, the skin crisped, and the various sauces dynamic in spicy flavor.  While we primarily enjoy bar-b-que food for the side dishes, this chicken is the notable exception to our general preferences, as it is one of the only times we remember going back again and again for another taste of meat.  This chicken really is everything that Adam Gertler had promised.

Chickilicious

The rack of ribs proves to be almost as good as the chicken -- if we were rib people, we might even think more so.

Ribcage of Champions

Unfortunately for ribs, we tend to be down on dishes that get caught in our teeth, though compared to other varieties, Dinosaur's are definitely on the tender side (the bones are also packed with meat -- Dinosaur seems to only like hearty cows).

We Think We Have Uncovered Their Secret: These Are Actually Dinosaur Bones

The brisket is by far the most disappointing, and it is the sole food on the platters before us that we do not enjoy.  Rather than juicy and succulent, as we expect brisket to be, Dinosar's beef is downright tough and dry -- hard to cut and even harder to chew, it is the absolute outlier of the carnivorous feasts before us.

A Tough Brisket to Swallow

And now, for our favorite components, the sides: they are all, in a word, excellent.  The beans are the most surprising of the bunch, as we are not usually overly fond of them.  Dinosaur's beans, however, taste to us as though they are coated in bacon and cheese, which gives them a one-up on any other bean in the world.

Note to Self: Slather Everything in Bacon and Cheese

The cajun corn, a special on this particular day, has a kick of spice behind the sweetness.

Speak Corny to Us

The coleslaw has a thick layer of dressing, but remains highly crunchy, tangy, and peppery.

Gotta Love Some Cabbage

And finally, our beloved mac and cheese is browned and gooey, packed with thick cheesy flavor.

Almost As Good as the Kraft Box Variety....

When our hands are overcome with sloppy sauce, we look directly to our left to find our very own napkin holder on the table.  "Look at this -- everything you could possibly want," Vodka says, unloading several to clean herself up.

Simple Things By Which We Are Inevitably Impressed: Free Water. Extra Napkins. Booths

Once we have determined that we cannot possibly shove another piece of this savory goodness into our mouths, we move onto the only logical next step: pie.

What's a Day of Gorging Without Dessert?

Consulting the dessert menu, we choose one slice of chocolate ice box pie, mostly because we believe we are going to receive a heaping mound of frosting-soaked Oreo cookies.  When our pie arrives, we stare at it blankly for a few seconds, because a) the slice is small and thin and b) it looks to be all chocolate.  Where, for goodness sake, is the cream filling?  Perhaps we should start reading descriptions of dishes before ordering them.

Missing: Sandwich Cookies. Reward Offered Within

In any case, while this pie is not exactly what we had in mind, it is tasty in its own way, particularly the Oreo cookie crust (though is all cookie and no cream).  By the end of the meal, we quite literally roll out of Dinosaur Bar-B-Que, stuffed to the extreme.  Should any other Harlem drivers decide to take their vehicles to the sidewalks now, based on our inability to move faster than obese snails, they could almost certainly make us extinct.

Dinosaur Bar-B-Que's Half BBQ Chicken: 5 stars*


*Certifiable Best Thing We Ever Ate

How Would You Descibe the Waffle? It Was Good

Wafel of Massive Deliciousness -- Wafels & Dinges
Wafels & Dinges

We owe an apology to The Waffle Truck.  For years, we had bypassed their yellow carts which can always be found sprinkled around the city, mistaking their prevalence and lines of tourists for gimmicky, unappealing food.

There's a Waffle Hidden In There Somewhere, We Promise

Never having tasted a single waffle from their premises, we head to the location of the main truck reluctantly after our Shopsin's breakfast, grumbling about our inability to find it and about the waffle we are about to order (we would spell the word 'wafel,' like the truck does, but we are ugly Americans who refuse to bend on our spelling conventions).

And While We're At It, We Also Keep Pronouncing 'Dinges' Incorrectly

"I feel like we're going to hate the toppings," Vodka states.  "But we have to get them anyway."  After all, if Sunny Anderson said on the STREET FOOD episode that we should order the "wafel of massive deliciousness" with dulce de leche, strawberries, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and walnuts, than the rules of this Best Thing I Ever Ate tour dictates that we must follow her directions.

We Are Nothing If Not Obedient

Now, we are not, generally speaking, street food people, and this lack of truck eating stems from both our doubts about a mobile kitchen's cleanliness (Vodka) and annoyance at having to track down one's sustenance rather than finding it in a permanent location (Ginger).  For instance, when we spot the truck's yellow facade hovering near Astor Place, Ginger grumbles, from two avenues away, "I would hardly call that 'between 2nd and 3rd Avenues,'" as the Waffle Truck's website had indicated.

So Far Away... Doesn't Anybody Stay in One Place Anymore?

We shuffle up to the waffle truck window and Vodka, having learned her lesson from the banana ebelskivers incident, orders our waffle before Ginger can open her mouth.  She chooses the liege (round) waffle rather than the Belgian variety (rectangular), only because she has vague visual recollections of Sunny eating the liege variety on the episode.

My Waffle, It Has No Corners, No Corners Has My Waffle

As she takes our order, the waffle truck girl asks for our "team name."  Vodka glances at Ginger out of the corner of her eye, silently asking for permission, before answering "Not Even Noon."  Instantly regretting her decision to "out" us, we begin speaking in vague terms when we are asked the reasoning behind our name, acting like certifiable members of the witness protection program rather than two second-rate food bloggers.  We eventually explain our blog (and thankfully, Waffle Girl does not seem to care enough to reveal our identity), and we head off with our overflowing waffle box in tow.

Can We Also Have a Wet Nap?

And it is at this moment that we fall head over heels in love with Wafels & Dinges.  Not because of the warm, soft waffle.  Not because of the overwhelming pile of chocolate-sprinkled whipped cream.  Not because of the red specks of strawberries or gooey dulce de leche topping or crunchy walnuts.  No, we fall in love with Wafels & Dinges because Waffle Girl has full-on Pictionaried our "team name."

Perhaps We Can Hire Her As Our Web Designer

After Vodka spends a full five minutes photographing our new graphic imagery, we hover by an East Village stoop and contemplate how to consume our creation.  While we have brought utensils with us, they prove fruitless in the face of the thick, hearty waffle, and Vodka instead shimmies the waffle partly out of its container and opens her mouth wide.

Waffle, Incoming

And when she emerges from behind the pile of WMD a second later, she does not even care that the full contents of the waffle toppings are now spread across her face -- the stuff is that good.  Handing the box over to Ginger, she confirms that all of our years of skepticism towards Wafels & Dinges was for naught -- the stuff is downright delectable.

Leggo Our Non-Eggo

First, there is the waffle itself -- warm and sweet, it is just about as far from an Eggo as one can get, and we are very pleased to have chosen the liege variety.  Of the toppings, the whipped cream is far and away our favorite -- sugary but supremely light, it is among the best we have ever tasted, and thankfully, Waffle Girl has distributed it generously.  The chocolate and dulce de leche serve their respective saucy roles, while the walnuts add crunch, and the strawberries, tang.  While we had initially doubted Sunny Anderson's combination, we are more than pleased to report that, for once, our typical cynicism was dead wrong.

Good Work, Not Even Noon Team

By the time we consume the whole waffle, we are wearing half of its contents on our faces, and it takes a full bushel of napkins to clean us up (and renders Ginger's ability to describe the waffle's flavor as anything but "good" impossible).  With so many other menu items to choose from (including the truck's famous spekuloos spread, which tastes like graham crackers), we are certain that since we've been initiated, we will become frequenters of the Waffle Truck's greatness.

And we are now supremely grateful that their carts can be found on every other Manhattan street corner.

Newbie Waffle Truck Groupies

Wafels and Dinges's Wafel of Massive Deliciousness: 5 stars*


*Certifiable Best Thing We Ever Ate