The Freezer Case: Lean Cuisine Wood Fire Style BBQ Recipe Chicken Pizza

One day, I was rooting around the refrigerator looking for something to eat at work that day. As happens from time to time, the wife had told me we were broke and I was not allowed to spend money on my usual exorbitant lunch. So I needed something to stick in my mouth around noon to ensure that my work day was not as long and painful as it usually is even when my hunger is fully satiated. Peering into the freezer, I saw this item from Lean Cuisine.

I threw it back in without even thinking about the possibility that I might be forced to consume the thing.

However, when further inspection brought me to the sad realization that there was nothing else to choose from - no leftover pizza, no three-day-old Chinese, no broccoli and mayonaisse sandwiches - I reluctantly tossed the box in my chic leather work attache and headed for the train station.

Fast-forward to lunch. After zapping the pie in the micro for two minutes or so, I set about to devour it. Since it is a decent-sized circle and I didn't want to take the time to cut it in fours, I grabbed a knife and fork and figured I'd cut it up.

The first warning sign I should have gotten out of this is that there was no smell whatsoever. Usually, when something is going to be good, it fires off a smell that makes people ask what you are having for lunch. After cooking, this thing had about as interesting an aroma as a lettuce leaf. When I went to cut it for consumption, it was like a rock. As I gnawed on the thing with my plastic knife for a seeming eternity, I felt like I might need a chainsaw to get the pizza to a place where I could take a manageable bite. When I finally got a piece onto the fork and inserted it into my mouth, the disappointment was palpable.

I can't really say that it tasted like much of anything. The barbecue sauce registered slightly and the chicken was basically nonexistent. The crust, of course, tasted like a flavorless piece of cardboard. I think there were onions on it as well, but I really can't tell you: before I could get a feel for the entire dish, it was sitting in my trash can. I tossed it after four bites since the taste of the pie wasn't worth the effort I was expending in cutting it. Dreadful crap.

I guess Lean Cuisine stuff is supposed to suck. After all, it is made for sadists who are too enveloped by the shape of their physiques to bring themselves to eat a real meal. However, even for something that purposely seeks to not be that great, this Lean Cuisine pie achieved an almost unprecedented level of "Ewwww!"
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The Pizza Project
Just a nibble: http://twitter.com/ThePizzaProject
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Association to Garces Can't Save Guapos Taco Truck

I unwittingly ordered a mushroom taco.

That pretty much sums up the experience I had at Guapos Taco Truck, the Jose Garces-owned lunch spot/tourist trap with wheels that is parked in the area of Philadelphia’s Love Park. I was walking over to the Academy of Music one day for the purpose of nailing down my seats for the Philadelphia Ballet’s annual showing of The Nutcracker when I saw the truck. I had heard about it, but had no idea it was so close to my place of business. I rarely traverse more than a block away from my workplace when looking for mid-day nourishment. Plus, the whole Occupy Philadelphia thing had me a little skittish when it came to approaching the City Hall area. I always felt like I might get attacked by a flash mob for the horrific crime of carrying a pricey burrito in the vicinity of such squalor. However, when I came upon the truck during the carrying-out of my daily tasks, I felt duty-bound to give it a try.

So why don’t I just jump straight to the whole mushroom taco debacle: I had $12 in my pocket. The first thing I ordered was the Green Chile Chicken tacos. Those were six bucks. I had a feeling that this was most likely going to be seen as gourmet dining due to the Garces name association. This translates to “not filling.” So I wanted to get another order of tacos. The Carnitas tacos were $7. So were the short rib versions. This left me with one other choice in the $6 category. It was called Hongos con Rajas. I don’t speak Spanish and I could not spy a menu. While a rational man probably wouldn’t have taken the leap, I simply assumed it was something like rice and beans. I was utterly shocked when I discovered that what I was actually expected to eat was a combination of poblanos (OK!), queso blanca (sure!), a fine salsa (excellent!), onions (not my favorite, but fine!), and MUSHROOMS (F*CK NO!). Anyway, after drowning those puppies in hot sauce (that was disappointingly made for gringos), I suffered through one. It tasted OK surprisingly, but that was due to the fact that the salsa that came with the taco was quite liberally applied. The texture of the mushroom was horrible, like trying to chew condensed rubber. Seriously, I have no idea how vegetarians do it. After I choked down the first one, the soft shell for the second one began to fall apart so I decided to drop it out of its cocoon and try to avoid the mushroom with a fork. But, oh yeah, the mushroom was the MAIN INGREDIENT (Mr. Garces, can you please put that on the cart’s main signage for idiots like me?). I quite wisely dumped the contents of that second taco into the closest trashcan. At least I can say that I have now tried a mushroom that wasn't baked into a brownie. And that I will never EVER do that again.

For the overall impression I had of the cart, I will focus on the Green Chile Chicken tacos. After all, I knew what was in this dish and ordered it of sound mind and body. While it was an improvement over “complete revulsion,” I would have to say that my feeling about the Chicken tacos was “Eh.” I’m sure they were “authentic” as hell , but they didn’t supply much in the way of flavor. The chicken was accompanied by white onion, radish, cilantro, crema, and queso fresco, yet, despite that seeming cavalcade of accoutrements, it just tasted bland. Even the hot sauce I showered the dish with could not bring it to life (because, as I mentioned before, it was virtually heat-free). Not good when you consider that you are spending a Washington and a Lincoln for two tacos that are thin enough to make you want to order Chinese food ten minutes later.

There are positive points to Guapos Taco Truck. The staff was very friendly. The truck was very pleasing to the eye, what with its color deriving from a host of different colored beer bottle caps adhered to the truck's body. The mushroom taco may even give you a wonderful internal cleanse due to its ability to induce vomiting in the strongest of constitutions. However, it is hardly worth citing these positives when you consider that the food doesn’t really taste exceptionally great, it is relatively expensive, and, even if bland chicken is your thing, it isn’t filling. Mushroom or no mushroom, my excursion to Guapos Taco Truck was a flat-out bust. I won’t be going back.



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The Pizza Project
Just a nibble: http://twitter.com/ThePizzaProject
Single slice: http://www.facebook.com/ThePizzaProject
The full pie: http://thepizzaproject.blogspot.com/

Your Way, Right Away? At Hot Tamales, It's Their Way or...Get the Hell Out!

As we have said several times before, we, the people behind the proverbial curtain of The Pizza Project, cannot survive on sauce, cheese, and crust alone. Every once in a while, we have to try something else. And, for myself, I have probably tried one place more than any other when it comes to eating lunch in Center City Philadelphia, where I have toiled for over 10 years. That place is Hot Tamales, a maker of burritos, tacos, quesadillas, and other fare. In all the time I have been going there, I never really stopped to take a critical view of why it is that I frequent the place in such loyal fashion. That is, until now.

For my lunch, I ordered two items: an "original" beef burrito and a black bean and fiesta rice burrito. First up was the beef burrito, which is a very simple item consisting of beef, tomato, lettuce, sour cream, and shredded cheese. While I, of course, enjoy the item (I have ordered both many a time), the beef did seem to be a little bit salty and the sour cream (a condiment that I have only recently begun to develop a palette for) sometimes seemed like the No. 1 ingredient. The hot sauce that I applied to add flavor was of great assistance, but I must say I wouldn't really describe it as being particularly "hot." Spicy? Sure. But it is not something that is going to add any sort of great kick or get you sweating a bit in the eyebrow area. The most intriguing thing I found about the dish on this occasion is that it wasn't even particularly hot temperature-wise. It was almost as if the tortilla had been taken out of a refrigerator directly before it was wrapped around the internal goods.