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| Mr. G, Father of the Bean and Cheese Burrito, Yuma, Arizona |
Omaha's Eppely Airfield isn't your state-of-the-art facility. No Wolfgang Puck Express, or even Chili's Too. Since you probably strategically show up thirty minutes before your flight in order to cruise through security and into your seat, there's no need for fancy schmance. This time, though, we made time for a little A&W chili cheese fries.
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| Soggy, salty, and smelly: Because sometimes peanut packets just aren't enough. |
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Post-flight, a liquid dinner was enjoyed at the
Yucca Tap Room, with a slice of pepperoni 'zza for dessert. For fourth meal, we hit up
Rivas Mexican Food for burritos. Fatty didn't want to hold up the fun with incessant food documentation, but just know that:
- Yucca is thee night spot in Tempe, with an admirable microbrew menu, tolerable live music, and good to great bar food. My favorite was Tempe's own Hop Knot IPA from Four Peaks Brewery.
- A California burrito has carne asada and papas fritas and is the best thing you can possibly eat at 2:15am.
- Machaca is a mess of braised beef and in many cases, fried egg. The best choice for raising your cholesterol, a demon to the angel of oatmeal.
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Indian fry bread is mostly a carnival or fair specialty, when those of Native American descent break out their deep fryers and stick their fluffy bread in it, then serve them as savory tacos or sweet desserts. Thank the heart disease heavens this isn't an everyday food, because such a concoction will make your left arm tingle. There are just a few places in Phoenix to chow down on it year round, and we happily ignored the lunch crown with a collective Body Mass Index of a million as we savored this special treat. It's best to stick to the "Indian Taco" fry bread, which is dressed up with a simple smear of half-mashed pinto beans and a handful of shredded lettuce and cheese. Cover in the thin-but-spicy hot sauce and swallow. Chase with a tropical iced tea.
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Indian Taco:
Homemade mashed refried pinto beans, shredded cheese and lettuce |
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Vegetarian Taco:
Refried beans, layered with sauteed spicy green chile strips, onions, sour cream and cheese |
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Like a couple of cowboys, we took the best the Indians had to offer and moseyed down to Yuma,
the sunniest city on earth, nestled on the border of California and Mexico. Corn doesn't grow too well in this region known as Sonora. (Gasp! Hold on to your husks!) So, the Sonorans have historically stuck to wheat, which led to the birth of the flour tortilla. Here, Taco Bell and Mission tortillas are replaced by ones that are thinly stretched to the point of near-translucency, made with the pure recipe of flour, water, and lard. Only. Not a thing more. Does it surprise you that Yumans are touchy about their tortillas? To a Yuman,
Mr. G and his restaurant
Chile Pepper are the tastes of childhood, of purity, of love.
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Bean and Cheese Burrito--
Encased in an authentic flour tortilla.
The unexpected weight and the oozing brown always reminded me of a dirty diaper,
but do not hesitate, for this is the best burrito in the land. |
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Rolled Tacos:
Shredded beef in a fried corn tortilla. You might know them as Taquitos.
I know them as breakfast. |
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It's barely noon on a Saturday and
Lute's Casino is already loud, boisterous chatter bouncing off the walls decorated with Impressionist knock-offs and Marilyn Monroe portraits, with a lot of T.G.I. Friday's flair junk hanging from the warehouse-height ceilings. A friendly but tough staff keeps things rolling in the sea of round tables, all day and night. A kind of modern Western bar where you'd be more likely to have a drink-off than a duel, Lute's is a must visit in southwest Arizona. And once you're here, you must get the Especial.
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The World-Famous Especial:
One (1) butterflied well-grilled hot dog atop one (1) cheeseburger deluxe
equals one (1) gluttonous treat. |
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Somewhere under the cheese, lettuce and hot sauce, you will find crunchy potato tacos.
Because when it's 110 in the shade you need some extra fuel to burn. |
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Stuffed beyond words, beer and burrito bellies protruding with guilt and glee, we arrived at the last stop, a friend's cookout near Phoenix. I spread some nacho cheese on a warm tortilla, dumped on a lump of beans and salsa, and wrapped it around a charred hot dog. What I took as inventive turned out to be known as a Taco Dog. Yes, they do things differently down there in the desert, where the landscape might as well be the moon to me, and with 115 degrees, you're screwed if the power goes out (which, as you may have heard, it
did). In the midst of all the 9/11 sad and sentimental anniversary hoopla, I got even hungrier to taste the fattest crap the rest of our great country has to offer.
