5 Reasons Why You Should Drink Cortados

Hub Bub Coffee Makes an Exceptional Cortado

If coffee has become more than part of your daily routine to wake up, then you've probably heard of a cortado, the espresso drink that lacks the shittily poured beer foaminess of a cappucino, but has enough steamed milk to remind you that you don't really like coffee unless it's full of cream and sugar. It is coffee's best example of a happy medium. If this is the first time you're hearing about this nifty new coffee drink, then please take this moment to read this dumbass list while you sip your Cookie Dough Iced Coffee, then find your nearest non-Starbucks and go order one.

1. The coffee-milk ratio is such that you can drink a cortado immediately.
2. When you order one, the barista knows that you know, and that part of you that wants so badly to be the cool kid inwardly smiles.
3. You get more than a single gulp of an espresso.
4. Matt Duckor drinks them when he's not drinking Negronis. Matt Duckor is cool as shit and you want his job. See #2 above.
5. Motherfuck a latte.

Lists are stupid. This one is no exception. Buen provecho.

Why Did I Eat This?

Overmarketing. It's the way shit gets done these days. This time around, we've seen a Taco Bell Breakfast Phone, early previews extended to the media, and of course an endless Twitter feed perpetuating both. Not that I needed any real arm-twisting to try Taco Bell's new Breakfast Menu, even after I had been warned twice. The first red flag came from my best buddy's wife, who happened to be working on the campaign years ago. According to her, the Run for the Border Bosses' only requirement for the menu was that it had to be cheaper than McDonald's. The second warning was via this guest post last August, when another friend of mine was fortunate enough to be in one of the test markets. Still, this was something I needed to try for myself as soon as the opportunity came about, and by opportunity, I mean being late for work by getting off the train one stop early and making my way through the stabbier parts of Philly's Gallery Mall. Some opportunities are created.

I have a love/hate thing with Taco Bell (that skews toward love). In fact, the only reason I hate it these days is because mid-thirties me can't handle it from a gastrointestinal perspective. Getting old sucks, but I'm not here to complain about aging, I'm here to tell you that despite the facts that the casualty of Taco Bell's price war is "food" that could barely pass as such in a laboratory and my test market buddy wasn't totally impressed, I found Taco Bell's breakfast to be more than passable. So if you're still reading, here's a brief review of the Waffle Taco and the A.M. Crunchwrap. I skipped the breakfast burrito and breakfast taco because nobody really cares, and I also opted out of the Cinnabon Delights to stave off the impending diabetes.

Waffle Taco: The Waffle Taco is packaged in a carton whose lid taunts "Right Now I'm Eating a Waffle Taco and You're Not," the context of which only makes sense if you're sending a picture to your social media friends. Otherwise, is the carton eating your waffle taco? And what about the carton littered on the street? It's not eating a Waffle Taco, it's just garbage. I get it, but not really. And the taco itself? It's normally what I'll build at the Hampton Inn hot breakfast, some chafing dish bonanza whose sum is much greater than the parts. The waffle had the consistency of a rubber dog toy, but the sausage patty and side of syrup saved it. And the elastic nature of the waffle shell held the whole thing together quite well. I couldn't really taste the cheese, but I also ate the thing in two bites.

A.M. Crunchwrap: Because I blog so infrequently, I have yet to share my thoughts on Sonic's Ultimate Meat & Cheese Breakfast Burrito, a tour de force of meats, potatoes, cheese, and eggs. It is easily my favorite breakfast item in the fast food universe. The Crunchwrap is a smaller version of this concept. The size of an Egg McMuffin, it takes the best of what breakfast has to offer and wraps it up like a giant dumpling. There's none of the Waffle Taco braggery on the packaging. Instead, it offers the practicality of covering all your breakfast bases without having to use a fork and knife. And it tastes pretty damn good (because it's probably loaded with sodium).

If you think your stomach can handle it (or you simply don't care), both items are highly recommended. If nothing else, there's always the novelty of trying something you haven't before. And if that whole irony thing is still trendy, you can chalk it up to that if you feel guilty about eating at Taco Bell. Just take care not to get syrup in your handlebar mustache. Buen Provecho.

The Two Whitest Things I Heard at Last Night's Philly Feastival

If you weren't at last night's Philly Feastival, you missed an opportunity to sample ridiculous food from all the restaurants you've ever wanted visit if you could ever manage to find a last-minute babysitter willing to watch two kids on a weeknight. You also missed Jesse Rendell stumbling through the auction items once again (if you need an emcee/auctioneer/hype man for next year, I'm your guy), heaps of dancey performance art that sort of made sense, and these two gems that you could only hear at such an event:

• "Oh my God, I didn't recognize you without spinning clothes on!"
• "I can't wait to check out Stephen Starr's restaurant row."

White people are amazing. Buen provecho.

The Regular Ass Guy Bullet Point List to Being a Man

While indeed thoughtful, Business Insider's "Unofficial Guide to Being a Man" appears to be written for a narrow audience. After all, we can't all be overworked and miserable millionaires with no life skills at the ripe old age of 28. With that in mind, I've curated my own list for the rest of us, because being a man today is basically the same as it was when our dads were on their grind, just with tighter clothes and a lot more fantasy football.

• If you're gonna talk about where you went to college, make sure you went to a sports school, but if you played sports, stop talking about how you could have gone pro.
• Khakis are both comfortable and versatile. The best ones come from Kohl's.
• Pee outside. Just not in the middle of a busy intersection.
• Tattoos are fine as long as they aren't on your face or neck. Plus, they look wicked hardcore when you're on the Tough Mudder course.
• Join Twitter. Follow Karl Welzein, Zoo With Roy, and Deadspin.
• If your house and your office are both relatively close to the bus stop, there's little shame in the bus game. However, the monthly payment on a Scion or a Ford Focus is about the same as a bus pass. The jury's out on which one's more depressing.
• Do your laundry while watching football on Sundays. Make sure the entirety of your business casual wardrobe is non-iron/wrinkle-free. Life's too short NOT to multitask.
• When the bartender asks, Miller Lite.
• If you perspire, make sure that you're the first to point out how disgusting it is, then continue to sweat like the pig you are. Hope everyone laughs.
• You have to like baseball. This is America.
• When people don't invite you to a party, it's probably because of your perspiration problem. Those people are high falutin' and can suck a fatty.
• It's always better to be the funny drunk guy than the angry drunk guy.
• Brunch is for hipsters. Hipsters are anyone different from you and who like things other than sports.
• There's always another level. You just won't get to it, unless you're referring to video games.
• Place-dropping is cool so long as it's the Super Bowl, the World Series, or one of the majors. Nobody gives a shit how many DMB concerts you've attended.
• If you're not driving and it's free, whiskey away.
• You can't afford cocaine.
• If it's got velvet ropes and lines, you're at the wrong place. Buffalo Wild Wings is down the street.

If you need a little more clarity, this song ought to help.

The Greatest Top Chef Season 11 Pre-Cap Song You've Ever Heard

I blame (thank?) Buzzfeed for the self-serving title of this post, but if you can get past the shitty Garage Band recording and poorly-timed slideshow I made using software that dates back to the invention of the abacus, the results are pretty spectacular. Here's hoping this season of Top Chef will be a lot better than the previous two. Let me know if I should waste my time doing this every week in the comments. Buen Provecho.

Why Did He Eat This?

Been way too long, folks. Way too long. Seeing how the laziness doesn't subside with old age (duh), and taking into consideration the fact that Philadelphia wasn't one of the chosen few test markets for the Taco Bell Breakfast (even though we are a lovely amalgam of actual fat people (me) and skinny fat people), I enlisted the help of a good friend in Nebraska, who was gracious enough to snap a few pics and offer his take on what is sure to be a disappointment once it lands in our fair city. Behold, the taste test results of Taco Bell's attempt at breakfast.

Words and pics courtesy of Matt Biggins, to whom we owe a debt for the intestinal discomfort:

I'm fine with the admission that I do enjoy Taco Bell. Of course, late at night, it's a no-brainer. But even daytime, 3 or 4 crunchy tacos are great. Like a couple cheeseburgers at McDonalds, even the fast food giants can do the simple stuff well. 

A few weeks ago, I made a run for the border. The marquee out front read "Breakfast Coming in August." Having seen nothing on TV or anywhere else, I was a bit surprised. Come to find out that Omaha is a test market. OK. Taco Bell and breakfast. Anything's possible, right? For the uninitiated, there are 3 main offerings being tested:

• Breakfast "Taco" - sausage and egg with a "shell' made of a small waffle. 

• A.M. Griller - Looks like a quesadilla with eggs, cheese and bacon or sausage. 

• Breakfast Crunchwrap - Also, looks like eggs cheese and bacon or sausage. Maybe a taco shell inside? I can't tell from the picture. 

I ordered one of each. The Taco looks like it has a big 'ol slab of sausage, so, anticipating the digestive activity of the next several hours, opted for the slightly lighter bacon on my Griller and Crunchwrap. 

First off, the Taco. This is the one I'm most excited about. I love waffles. Love 'em. And with sausage, giddy'up. The waffle is thick and tender, but oily. First bite, oil. Slightly stale oil. Not a promising start. The next couple bites improve, as the sausage flavor takes over. I was expecting some sort of maple crystals in the waffle, like a McDonalds McGrillers. That or some kind of maple-y sauce. But there is none. Pretty disappointing. 

Next up, the A.M. Griller. It's like a soft taco, filled with breakfast. The bacon flavor reminds me of imitation bacon bits. Not a bad thing, but not great. With a bunch of hot sauce, this one is totally decent. 

Finally, the Crunchwrap. A hash brown(!) replaces the tostada shell. There's also a slightly spicy sauce that tastes like their quesadilla sauce. It's a lot smaller than the normal Crunchwrap, so there's more tortilla per bite. And the potato adds some heft to this. Pretty heavy for a breakfast, but tasty. Again, the bacon flavor tastes artificial. I'm sure sausage wrap is better. 

Having eaten halfway through each item, my stomach is not pleased. This is certainly one of the greasier breakfast meals I've had. While I can get down and enjoy a greasy pile o' fast-food, morning is a rough time to do so. Perhaps to nurse a hangover, a Breakfast Crunchwrap and a big-ass Mountain Dew may hit the spot, but I'd rather spend the junk food points on a big plate of biscuits and gravy. 

Caveat emptor, readers, and as always, buen provecho.

The 2013 Philadelphia Wine & Food Festival in Really Bad Pictures

Loafers without socks, leathery faces, and the quiet discomfort of being in a room where everybody makes more money than you. That basically sums up the 2013 Philadelphia Wine and Food Festival. Not that it wasn't a good time. There were some stellar pours, including a perfectly balanced sherry imported by P.R. Grisley Co.* and a sauvingnon blanc from Casa Patronales that drank like a high octane double or triple-IPA (imagine a boozier Double Jack or a less-syrupy Hop'solutely). Plus, it was all you can drink, although I did my best not to render myself useless for the next day's kid party doubleheader.

At the end of it all, I had the opportunity to catch up with a high school buddy of mine who dropped serious knowledge on the challenges of importing wine (P.R. Grisley is only available in 13 states), the effect of the E.U.'s disdain for austerity (It's no secret that Spain and Portugal, where many of P.R. Grisley's imports come from, are kind of fucked right now), and how wine's a whole lot cooler if you're not snobby about it. Check back shortly for a couple videos featuring a real-life Geico caveman and a drunken Spanaird. Buen provecho.

Update: Here's the Spanish bull (toro?) I was talking about. Foreign accents are so cool:

And here's the IRL Geico Caveman:

Dude, you've got some mango salsa in your beard.

*Full disclosure. These guys were my sponsors. I was pretty relieved, however, when their wines were among the best I had all night. It would have been really awkward if they sucked.

When Life Imitates Art: A Little Green Eggs Cafe Rodent Levity

More surprising than the lack of puns about the whole Green Eggs Cafe rat conundrum (I'll throw my own hat into the headline ring with "Broken Sewer Pipe Leads to Shitty Situation."*) is the fact that almost a week has passed and nobody out there has compared this to one of my daughter's favorite movies, Ratatouille. I suppose real life rats are far worse than computer animated rats, but perhaps they were just in there trying to whip up one of their favorite classic French dishes. A cassoulet, maybe? The perfect omelet?

It got me thinking about the parallels between the movie and Philly food (with a tiny bit of poetic license for one of the characters).

People That Look Like People: Starr and Christie

 I haven't. Have you? Buen provecho.

Burger Brawl 2013 Non-Recap*

It would be nice if we humans could evolve to the point where our collective metabolisms catch up to the amount of food we produce/consume rather than just becoming a bunch of fat shits. That way, instead of only being able to eat nine or so of the burgers at this year’s Burger Brawl, every last one of us at the event could have enjoyed all twenty-four.

Alas, the finiteness of our stupid stomachs brings regret not from eating so much, but from eating so little (relatively speaking). I suppose when you say you’re upset that you only got to eat nine(!) burgers, you’ve got problems. Or you’re American.

Congrats to Fat Jack’s for being the jewel of the judges with their "Memphis Mauler" burger, and to Lucky’s Last Chance for getting the crowd’s crown with their Peanut Butter and Bacon Burger. And congrats to the rest of us for enduring sunburns and meat sweats in the name of competition and philanthropy. Buen provecho.

*Regarding the event itself, I can't stop thinking of Percy St BBQ's offering (middle left), a mouthful of egg yolk and country ham that had the silky texture of prosciutto with vinegar onions to balance all of those riches. I was also quite partial to South Philly Tap Room's Ham-Hamburger, because I hate ham salad (too sweet), but I fucking love SUPER ham salad, something Scott Schroeder came up with while "shooting darts."

Do You Want Pho?

In case you were wondering, this PowerPoint/decision making masterpiece is the result of two years of business school and the associated mountain of debt. Buen provecho.

Alla Spina, One Year Later

It took a little over 365 days for me to finally get to Alla Spina. Those following me on Twitter know that the reason for the delay could be attributed to beef jerky and/or the fact that I'm usually too drunk to drive, but whatever the excuse, I'm happy to say that I finally made it to the North Broad birreria this past Friday. Since I'm a year late to the party and you probably already know about the grafitti, the pig with leg warmers, and the negronis on tap, I'll keep things short and sweet by telling you what I ate and why you should do the same (or I'll go off on a bunch of tangents about shit that doesn't make any sense whatsoever).

Why Did I Eat This?

The trouble with gimmicks, even the bright orange crunchy ones, is their inherent lognormal distribution. Out of the gate, Taco Bell's first Doritos Locos taco was in heavy rotation, and rightly so. The "oh shit why didn't we think of that before?" combination of crappy fast food and crappy snack food was a monumental success, but like beating Street Fighter II on one quarter with Blanka for the 30th time, its novelty faded, settling beyond the third sigma where one can comfortably avoid being seen making a run for the border and heard in the toilet immediately following. I lost count of how many Doritos Locos tacos I have eaten since their debut almost a year ago, and it has been at least a month since my last one.  I had all but forgotten about the brilliant combination until Hahri Shin's Twitter feed reminded me that the brain trust at Taco Bell was diversifying their Doritos Locos portfolio with a Cool Ranch shell. And it would be ready a day early. And that day was today (well, yesterday, since you're probably reading this on Thursday).

With curiosity and expectations high, I made my way to the nearest Taco Bell thinking my life would be changed once again. That was my first mistake.

Merry Christmas, I Recorded a Metal Song for You

It's not going to be a silent night with this gem on your juke:

Happy holidays from me and the Megadeth skull. Buen provecho.

Why Did I Eat This?

The prospect of caramelized onions was enough to sucker me into trying the latest attempt at fast food gourmet, the McDonald's CBO Angus Third-Pounder. Click through for a brief (three) photo essay that captures my stupidity and the sadness of this sandwich.

Weighing in on Wells, or Guy Bites Big

By today, most of you have seen Pete Wells' takedown of Guy's American Kitchen & Bar. Already heralded as a thing of beauty by aspiring food writers and other folks that rest comfortably outside this restaurant's target market, the questions-only review takes a megadump on the newest Times Square megarestaurant branded by the goateed specter that haunts my nightmares, Guy Fieri.

It's a fun read, but the joke's on us. While we get to maintain such things as our dignity and our hair color, this clown's laughing all the way to bank. He cleared $8 million last year, and I would imagine that much like Krusty, he signed off on the use of his name and all of those dumbshit menu items after a dump truck full of money showed up in his driveway—too busy to think about anything but the dollar signs because he was "rollin' out!" to the next triple-D shoot.

We're hopeful that Mr. Fieri is investing this cash in something other than hookers and coke, especially if he's planning to continue diluting his brand. In the meantime, let's get back to Mr. Wells, for whom I have a few questions of my own regarding the expectations of this review:

Did you really expect this place to be good? Did the New York Times also review the Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. when it first opened? Would you expect your readers—most of whom use the company card to impress clients—to entertain a night out in Times Square? Are you fucking kidding me with this? And one more time, just to make sure—did you really expect this place to be anything other than a T.G.I.Friday's with a different name?

More heartbreaking than this wasted review, however, is the scene that just played out in my mind. Guy's sons, Hunter and Ryder (as if we needed more fuel for the ridicule fire. Plus, that sounds terrible together), are seated at the dinner table, staring longingly at their mostly absent father. The family's eating a Papa John's pizza and Guy closes the lid after grabbing a fourth slice. Not sure what to make of the sad faces (because there's still plenty of pizza left), Guy asks them if there's a problem in flavortown, to which the older one replies:

"Dad, why does everybody hate you so much?" 

You know what's worse than being Guy Fieri? Getting beat up because your dad's Guy Fieri. Buen provecho.

Distilling the Douche Out of Manayunk, One Craft Beer (and One Burger) at a Time

Just in time for the September installment of Manayunk's First Friday, owner Chris Barnes and his crew at Lucky's Last Chance pull off a Robert Irvine-worthy transformation of their second floor from pseudo-club to seats aplenty.  I chatted with Chris during the demolition last week to find out why Lucky's bucked the trend of $3 u-call-its and (insert fucked up candy flavor here) shots that has been Manayunk's SOP for as long as anyone can remember,* and it turns out that the past year of being open was an experiment that ran amok. "We did the whole burger thing on a small scale to start out. We knew we had to cater to a certain population here on Main St, and that's why we kept Upstairs [at Lucky's].  We weren't really sure how far the burger and craft beer thing would go."

In a word, Chris, "Duh."

He's right, though.  Craft beer on Main St. can be a  tough sell.  On the one hand, you've got college kids (or the recently graduated) who favor quantity over quality, and on the other hand, you've got old-ass Main Liners who jump in their tiny-ass Mercedes coupes after drinking way too much wine at Derek's or Jake's.

Fortunately, there's another demographic slowly materializing, and with another level of seating and additional taps, Lucky's Last Chance will be ready for them tonight.

"We're not changing much, just adding tables, really," Chris says.  Still, it's nice to have an option in Manayunk where the food is good and I don't feel too old, too young, and I can bring the kids.  Buen Provecho.

*Nothing wrong with this, folks. Just stating facts.

The Best Thing to Come Out of A-B InBev's Acquisition of Goose Island

This year's beer options at the Linc include Goose Island IPA, an offering from the craft beer concern that was (somewhat) recently acquired by marketing machine/shit beer brewer/craft beer bully AB InBev.  Time will tell whether the quality of Goose Island's offerings will wane to Blue Moon standards, but in the meantime, you can pair your overpriced nachos with a more than fairly priced and super delicious IPA ($7.25 for a stadium-sized plastic cup).  Buen provecho.

Why Did I Eat This?

If you've been watching the Olympics, you have no doubt seen (or at least fast forwarded through) Lorena Garcia throwing prop spices on prop food to promote Taco Bell's blatant ripoff of Chipotle/Qdoba, the Cantina Bell menu.  The story we're being fed is that the Latina stereotype/current contestant on Top Chef Masters was the inspiration for the new items, drawing from her vast experience with big bold flavors.  Oh yeah, and she's Venezuelan, too.  Not sure how that translates to fast food Tex-Mex (if you can call it that), but the long and short of it is that our border buddies are trying to beat Qdotle (see what I did there?) on price, asking us consumers "Think Taco Bell Can't Do Gourmet?"

Even before trying it, the answer was obvious.  I KNOW Taco Bell can't do gourmet, but I could give a shit if they could.  I go to Taco Bell for Doritos Locos Tacos and Cheesy Gordita Crunches.  I love the powdery taste of the barely beef, the waterlogged lettuce, and sometimes even the horrible abdominal pains that remind you to stay away from it all for as long as you can.

Still, I had to try their attempt at "gourmet,"  and I was curious how the ripoff would translate when it wasn't styled and made to look as appetizing as it does on TV.  Here's a lazy list of what you can expect from their Cantina Bowl if you decide to try it for yourself:

Since We're All Talking About Chicken Anyway

I figured it would be a much better idea to post this video instead of throwing out my two pennies about Chick-fil-A.  It's unclear whether the dancing KyoChon chicken mascot is a hatemonger, but goddamn it if their fried chicken isn't some of the best I've ever had.

I will say this, however.  Fuck the fucking higher-ups at Chick-fil-A for making all of us choose between eating something delicious and taking the moral high ground.  Buen provecho.