Southern Restraunt Sightings.

[ThinMick]

Hey, yet another New Mexican!

I'm racking my brain for classic New Mexican food that just doesn't exist other places, but I think you got most of it. All I've got are funny stories and weird foods involving green chile.

Pizza with chile: It's actually a good idea. As suspicious as I was of it when I first came here from New York, a dozen years ago, the chile really does add something -- especially in combination with pineapple.

Sushi with chile: This one *still* turns my head. We have a sushi place that sells what they call New Mexico Rolls, which are avocado and chile (and possibly some other veggies, I don't recall) in rice and nori. I can't really speak to the wisdom of this one.

Green Chile at Taco Bell, Sonic, and Denny's: I got so used to it, I made an ass of myself in San Jose, a few years back. Apparently, Californians look at you *really* oddly when you ask for your burrito with green chile. I suspect it's the standard chile vs. chili problem.

Ooh, that's one we missed... Red Chile Chocolate Biscochitos. There's something to be said for chile and chocolate that can be dunked in your morning coffee.

[Seanette]

PhoneGoddess, you're making me VERY hungry.

[ThePhoneGoddess]

ooh baby.

I lived in Santa Fe New Mexico for 7 years and I have seen the tourist reaction to local food more times than I can count. Especially with frito pies, Santa Fe's best street food. God what I would give for a frito pie right now (I'm in Oregon). Take a small bag of fritos, open it down one side with a sharp knife, ladle in some ground beef or pork that's been simmered slowly for hours in super hot red chile, cover with grated cheese, chopped onion and fresh sliced jalapenos. Has to be eaten with a spork while walking the streets of old Santa Fe. I used to see this on aa regular basis---

yuppie tourist with a superiority complex comes into the five-and dime (makes the best frito pies in town) and says 'I was told if I came to Santa Fe I had to eat a frito pie!' So they are given one---in the original frito chip bag. They look at the person incredulously, their lip curling. 'Umm...can I have it in a bowl?' Worker gives them a cheap paper bowl and a spork. They look flabbergasted. They eventually wander off, looking down at their food confused, wondering if they should eat it. I want to scream at them 'this is not fine cuisine here people! This is STREET FOOD! Eat it and be thankful, you worthless wanna-be culture junkies!'

*ahem* sorry. I feel much better now.

Since all of this southern food has been expounded on this thread (which I appreciate, I love southern food) I want to expound on southwestern food a little for any of you who have never been down there.

Chicharron burritos---thank god people don't tell the tourists to eat these. I think most of the health obsessed yuppies would have heart attacks! So mouth watering...so scrumptious...so comforting...and yet so bad for you. Wrapped into a large flour tortilla---pinto beans, melted cheese, onion, super hot New Mexico green chile and chicharrons (fresh fried pork rinds---I think they're called cracklin's in the south?---not the stuff you get in vending machines, but REAL fresh fried pork rinds---crunchy and juicy at the same time---oh goddddd....) and eaten piping hot for breakfast on cold wintry Santa Fe mornings.

Carne Adovada---cubes of pork simmered slowly in ground red chile until it's so tender they fall apart in your mouth.

sweet ribs---baby back ribs simmered slowly in a sweet, barely spicy red chile sauce until the meat falls off the bones. Literally. you pick up the bone and the meat stays on the plate.

breakfast burritos---more street food. A flour tortilla with a slice of canadian bacon, a serving of hash browns, eggs cooked anyway you like, and green chile sauce inside.

Chiles Rellenos Norte Nuevo Mexicanos---New Mexican green chiles, roasted over an open flame, stripped of the blackened skins, cut open, filled with cheese, then beer battered and fried, served smothered in green chile sauce with rice and beans on the side.

natillas---soft homemade vanilla custard. Little old New Mexican ladies like to put crushed nilla wafers in it---it's really good that way.

atole---thin blue corn gruel, served as a hot drink with milk and sugar.

posole---soup made of hominy, cubed pork and chunks of red chiles. Best eaten scalding hot.

Sopaipilla---puffed, fried yeast bread that's eaten split and filled with honey-butter.

[LdyJedi]

Yeah, Lincoln Hwy over by Rockvale is horrible, especially in the summer. Everyone wants to shop the outlets and take Amish farm tours. Farm tours make me slightly uncomfortable, like the Amish are being made out to be some sort of zoo exhibit...I dunno. I've never been to one, and I've lived in this area my whole life.

Hi, neighbor!

We're currently looking for a new place for our dojang and one realtor wanted us to look in that area (we're currently at Park City). I told him thanks, but no thanks! I don't want to fight that traffic daily!

[Knightmare]

I'm a Yankie, damn proud of it. Now I live in Florida. I'm a transplant. Go me!

In the 11 years I have lived in the south (1 year in Alabama, 10 here) I have never had good grits. Therefore, I hate them. They are disgusting. And believe me, I have tried them. I've had home made to high-falootin' hoidy-toidy restaurants, all clumpy yet swimming in butter. I've even had them at the Huddle House, and they just weren't good.

But try getting some good oatmeal down here. Impossible, unless you make it yourself- and if you can find real oatmeal, not the Quaker instant stuff.

My sometimes ex-girlfriend feels the same about oatmeal as I feel about grits. She was born down here (Which makes her a rarity in FLA - A Native).

[Hempress]

Tourists - shudder. Lancaster is crawling with them. I'm about to head into Lancaster City, to do my weekly shopping at Central Market. Every week, I wait and watch in wonder at what fun things the tourists will do. Some are very nice and some? They scare me!

Yeah, Lincoln Hwy over by Rockvale is horrible, especially in the summer. Everyone wants to shop the outlets and take Amish farm tours. Farm tours make me slightly uncomfortable, like the Amish are being made out to be some sort of zoo exhibit...I dunno. I've never been to one, and I've lived in this area my whole life.

[Sofar]

That's about when we got them, 1940. Same year General Motors went around the country tearing up trolley tracks and selling fleets of diesel buses.

[repsac]

Ah, tourists. What bothers me about tourists here is that they seem to think we're all putting on a show for them. We actually shop at Pike Place Market, we actually live and work in all those ancient buildings downtown, and whereas the monorail doesn't really go anywhere, our second-weirdest form of public transportaion, the electric buses, are something we actually use to get around. And the city doesn't just keep them around for novelty's sake, they're actually far superior to the deisel buses.

Trackless trolleys. Ironic when you consider that the design dates back to the fourties.

[Lackwit]

The only place I ever had any problems in getting regular (unsweetened) ice tea was a restaurant in Vancouver, BC. The waitress said that all their ice tea was presweetened. Okaaay. So I had a hot tea instead.

That was probably because their only iced tea was sweetened Nestea syrup in their soda fountain.

[stickycoins]

Ok all you Southerners, don't beat me up here, but I was born and raised in Memphis and can't STAND sweet tea! Never have liked it, never will. My iced tea, coffee, and hot tea are always drunk sans sugar. Don't know why that is....Not much of a sweets fanatic either. Grits, greens, country ham and cornbread, now that's a different story!

[Cia]

The only place I ever had any problems in getting regular (unsweetened) ice tea was a restaurant in Vancouver, BC. The waitress said that all their ice tea was presweetened. Okaaay. So I had a hot tea instead.

[RogueOne]

Got a few more for you. Some rather recent.

Ok, as I've said before, Huddle House is the kissing cousin to Waffle House. Bit cleaner, better food and what not.

There's one that's not so good. Ft. Gordon has one and me and my friends were not impressed. But that's just one out of a whole bunch.

[LdyJedi]

Tourists - shudder. Lancaster is crawling with them. I'm about to head into Lancaster City, to do my weekly shopping at Central Market. Every week, I wait and watch in wonder at what fun things the tourists will do. Some are very nice and some? They scare me!

[Sofar]

Ah, tourists. What bothers me about tourists here is that they seem to think we're all putting on a show for them. We actually shop at Pike Place Market, we actually live and work in all those ancient buildings downtown, and whereas the monorail doesn't really go anywhere, our second-weirdest form of public transportaion, the electric buses, are something we actually use to get around. And the city doesn't just keep them around for novelty's sake, they're actually far superior to the deisel buses.

[repsac]

Got a few more for you. Some rather recent.

Ok, as I've said before, Huddle House is the kissing cousin to Waffle House. Bit cleaner, better food and what not. Awesome coffee. Nearly every city down south will have one or the other, sometimes both, and often several. If I were to describe the experience of eating at a Huddle House, I'd have this to say about it:

Walking through the door, you notice that the bar has several hard arsed stools before it. The floor is somewhat sticky, and there's a funky grease/food smell that while somewhat dirty smelling, has its own appeal. You also note, that the cook isn't using regular spatulas, but rather seems to be cooking with putty knives and spackling knives. (and, he is.) But, oh...what of the food? Food of the gods. Greasy, just so, but full of flavor.

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Recently, I had to run into Savannah to pick up some equipment that I'd placed in storage there. While there, something possessed me to wander into one of the HH's there. Maybe the grease content of my blood was low, maybe I had a craving for Hash browns. I don't really know. However, once in there I was witness to one of the most amusing conversations I think I have ever seen.

While waiting on my breakfast (even though it was well past noon, they serve it any time of the day) a group of about four or five people walked in.

Ever notice how you can pick a tourist out a mile away? I'm not sure what it really is, but there's something about them. Maybe it's that somewhat lost stare they often have. Maybe it's the accent, or perhaps the way they referr to things. Maybe it's the look of sheer disdain for everything your area has to offer and the people in it. I'm not sure what it is, but it seems that like I said, you can spot them a mile away.

This group, were tourists.

The first mistake they made was waiting by the door. Each time a waitress passed them, they were given a funny look, greeted and then left standing there. Some five minutes later I hear one comment. "I guess we just seat ourselves." Uh...excuse me? There ain't a hostess here, so ya, seat yourself is the usual rule. Don't stand up looking stupid.

Sitting down, they happened to choose a spot just behind me (I was at the bar). As the waitress passed, she dropped off the forks and took a drinks order. One actually asked her "What types of alcohol do you serve?" the waitress replied in that wonderful Georgia drawl. "Sweetie, we don't sell alcohol. Coffee, Tea, Soda, or water. That's about it. Though, I'd avoid the water if I were you it's soft and if you're not from round here it'll likely give you the jakes." The man (who I assume was the leader or patriarch nodded each of them ordering a cup of coffee.

The whole time they sat there persuing the menu, they talked rather loudly about everything they saw. From the clothing I had on, to the guy who just walked in, to this and that and well, you get the picture. Now, I'm not sure what they expected, but this place isn't exactly a jacket and tie affair.

When the waitress approached, they ordered. The food, came, and they ate; complaining all the while. Myself, being the perverted buffoon who loves watching idiots (and also wanting to avoid dealing with the drive home as it'd started to rain) got another cup of coffee and waited. It wasn't until the check came that the fun really started.

At first, the guy tried to pay with an American Express card. The waitress gave him a look. Smiling, she said appologetically, "We don't accept those sir." Ok....so next he draws out a check. Sorry, they don't take those either. The waitress asked for cash, and the guy said smugly that he had no cash, so she'd have to take his form of payment or (bet you saw this coming) the food was free.

I'll give the girl credit. She stood her ground and remained polite the whole time. "No" she told him. "You'll pay, or I'll call the cops and you can explain to them why you're refusing to pay your tab." The guy retalliated with a "And what's to stop me from just leaving?"

You know what I love the most about Kharma? It happens when you least expect it. The best kinds of kharma are totally unexpected, and wholly ironic. sometimes, I think whatever deity is up there has a seriously warped sense of humor. That, or has worked retail at some point. Right about the time the guy starts yelling his retalliation, two Chatam county police officers walk in the front for their hourly coffee break.

The waitress smiled some, pointed at the officers and said (again with that polite tone) "I don't think they'd like it."

You know, I don't think I've ever seen someone produce cash quite as fast as that guy did. And with that he left. It just goes to show, someone up there likes us.