The best thing I ate in Belize (last week–miss me, guys?) was fresh-off-the-boat lobster meat, rolled in coconut, and flash-fried, and served with coconut rice, stew beans, and fried plantains, with very strong rum punch, served under a palapa on the beach during a thunderstorm. These foods, along with “fry chicken,” are practically the national cuisine of Belize, and thunder is practically the national anthem.
I cannot tell you how to make any of that. But I discovered another, secret Belizean food, though, when I was in a grocery store trying to buy breakfast very early one morning. I had a bus to catch in fifteen minutes and needed provisions for the four-hour trip. All they had fresh and local at this grocery was key lime pie, and though I will never complain about having only pie for breakfast, I wanted something a little more substantial as well. As I stood at the counter waiting for the very sleepy, laid-back woman to get me a slice of pie, a small crowd started to form. No one was ordering anything, they were just milling about.
Then, just as the clocked over to 8 a.m., a baker appeared with a tray of…waffles? She hadn’t even gotten them to the counter when the small crowd rushed her and started grabbing as many as they could. Let me tell you–the Belizeans eat quite well, and if they all want a particular food item, you want it too, trust me. I grabbed two before they could all disappear and oh, wow. It was simple, it was processed, it was hardly culinary creative genius, and it was delicious. It was…a ham and cheese sandwich on waffles.
Thaw two plain toaster waffles. On one waffle, put a slice of cheese–I used white American cheese singles because that seemed to be what they did, but you can use whatever you want. On the other waffle, put a slice of ham. Stick them in the oven at 350 until the cheese melts, then make a sandwich and eat it on the walk to the metro. Revel in the jealous stares of the waffle-less commuters around you.
But if you can find coconut-fried lobster, for the love of God, tell me where.

This summer, I decided to give myself the happy childhood I so rightly deserved. Trips to the non-Air and Space Smithsonians that my school field trips forgot, and civilly disobeying the “No Swimming” signs in the Potomac have been my hallmarks of Summer-06, replete with the crowned jewel of my immaturity empire, a season pass to Kings Dominion near Richmond. It *should* only take about 90 minutes to get from the Beltway to the faux Eiffel Tower at the park, but the real art in any roadtrip is the travel, not always the destination. There’s some good old fashioned eating between the speed traps and sprawl-induced traffic jams. Here’s my comfort food-based guide to surviving a drive to the park.
1) I’ve always maintained that the true South doesn’t start at the Mason-Dixon Line between Pennsylvania and Maryland, but at the point where you can rely on a Waffle House at every interstate exit; therefore, the South technically begins around Potomac Mills. Open 24 hours, Waffle House is known for breakfast foods – huge waffles, greasy hash browns with your choice of toppings, and coffee stronger than a wino’s stench. They also serve dinner foods and sandwiches, like burgers and chicken. Stay away from the shoe-leather steaks, and you’ll eat well for under ten bucks.
2) With a name like Cracker Barrel, you know you’re not in the District anymore. Another Interstate exit staple, Cracker Barrel serves up massive meals of Southern-fried comfort. Their breakfasts are legendary – fantastic pancakes, smoked breakfast meats and hashbrown casseroles. Their dinners are no joke, either, with country-fried steaks, chicken dumplings and a heaping serving of gravy on everything.
3) Feeling a little less chainy? If you’re in Woodbridge, just off Route 1 is Dixie Bones a barbeque joint that invited me to attend after my lackluster visit to Capital Q in Chinatown. So far, I’ve only had a couple of sandwiches, which isn’t enough for a full review, but their sweet, slightly-smoky sauce is fantastic. I can’t wait for another trip to Woodbridge…that is a sentence I never thought I’d write in my life.
4) So, you say you’ve had Waffle House, and have mastered the Cracker Barrel menu. Like Stewie from Family Guy, you’re addicted to “click-click-bloody-click pancakes!” There’s one place for you, my friend – Aunt Sarah’s Pancake House. As any self-respecting UVA Cavalier can tell you, Aunt Sarah’s makes some good `cakes. Light, fluffy – always good. They don’t stay open as late as the other I-95 joints, and, sadly, the Charlottesville location seems to be a lot cleaner than the ones in Fredericksburg or Richmond. Here’s hoping somebody steps in with a mop, some Scrubbing Bubbles and a bad attitude, and saves those pancakes.
5) When a place advertises an all-you-can-eat buffet and sub-$10 prime rib, you’re either in Vegas or the Iron Skillet near Bowling Green, Virginia. I hadn’t been there in nearly 15 years, when I would refuel there, driving from Maryland on 301 down to my uncle’s farm in Buckingham County, Virginia. A recent trip has shown that they’ve cleaned the place up, and the portions are generous, if not thrilling, and the “stinky trucker” odor has subsided.
6) Once you get to Kings Dominion, you’re stuck eating their food. You can try to sneak chow in from the nearby Burger King or 7-11, but those security guards at the park examine backpacks like they’re looking for Waldo. Kings Dominion offers the theme park classics – funnel cakes, overpriced pizzas, listless hamburgers. You can’t swing a dead cat without hitting a Frozen Lemonade stand or Dippin’ Dots – Ice Cream of the Future! kiosk (by the way, hasn’t Dippin’ Dots been the ice cream of the future for like, 20 years now? When the hell does the future get here?) but those are two tasty places for a quick sugar high. Your best bets at Kings’ Dominion are the Subway shops – they offer decent sandwiches at $5.99, which is about the best deal in the place. Also, the Bubba Gump Shrimp joint near the new Italian Job roller coaster makes surprisingly good Cajunesque chow. Plus, they serve beer and margaritas, which come in handy if you want to survive a place with too many kids, rigged games, long lines, broken rides, people with questionable hygiene and clothing styles, and where the word “door” somehow picks up extra syllables.

(cross-posted from Thrown for a Loop)

Don’t tell my rabbi!
If there was justice in the world, there would be no RibFest. After all, ribs are hard to eat, messy and don’t really contain all that much meat for the amount of trouble it takes to get to it. It took centuries of poverty and slavery for this castaway cut to have been elevated into a culinary art form. Only through the crucible of great injustice could the joy of ribs have been discovered.
RibFest is an annual event in Chicago’s North Center neighborhood, centered at Irving Park and Lincoln Avenue. Thousands of people come out every to eat messy pork products in public in front of total strangers and their dogs and despite the unseasonably cold weather last weekend, it didn’t dissapoint. Here’s the rundown:
Cy’s Ribs won the competition last year, so that’s where I went for the main course: a half slab of baby backs, smothered in a Kansas CIty-style sweet and tangy sauce (pictured above). The meat was tender, if not plentiful, and the sauce was properly thick, smooth and sweet when licked off the bone, but packing a spicy finish that was crisp, but not overwhelming. Good stuff.

Probably not a local catch.
Grizzly’s Lodge’s Alligator. Served on a skewer without any sauce other than the cajun rub it was marinated with, this exotic meat tasted like very dry chicken. I’ve had alligator jerky before (so-so) but now I can die having consumed gator meat on a stick, perhaps because of it.
Homemade root beer: You can really tell the difference between soft drinks made with high fructose corn syrup and those made with real cane sugar – it’s the reason why Mexican Coke tastes so much better than its American counterpart. Although some may have considered it a bit too flat, I liked it.
Colvin’s boneless rib sandwich: One of my RibFest companions had this sandwich, which is really seperated rib meat pressed into a rib-shaped boneless pattie, slathered in sauce and served on a bun. He said he liked it, but what’s the point of going to RibFest if you’re not going to eat something messy? None of us were on first dates, so there’s no excuse.
Deep Fried Twinkies, Snickers and Milky Ways: I promised myself that I’m going to the state fair this year, where I will probably have one of these. However, I would like to be able to do so in reasonably good health and without the aid of those scooters used by people who are too fat to walk. Skipping desert was my one act of self-control the entire day.

I’m back on the sauce

Southwest Virginia may not be on you list of must-make weekend trips – yet. But I hope to correct that oversight. Not only is this 5 hr drive worth making for the authentic bluegrass music, but there is some interesting food to try too.
The capital of funky SW VA is Floyd. This small rural town was a mecca of communes and hippies back in the 70’s, and guess what- they’re still there, just older and unreformed (thank goodness). So are the local farmers and proud rednecks. All happily living side by side. This makes for a fun culture which all come together every Friday night at the famous Floyd Country Store This place is not exactly undiscovered, there was a Washington Post article on it not that long ago. The point is that bluegrass and mountain music are alive and well. If you liked Oh Brother Where Art Thou, this is the place.
Anyway enough about the music; where to eat in Floyd is the question. The best Natural Food store in the area is Harvest Moon, a wonderful shop, and above it on the second floor is Over the Moon Bakery and Coffee Shop – a lovely combo café and high-class crafts gallery (it’s that kind of town).
Another cool café is Café Sol – again sharing space with a wonderful imported batik clothing store, Wintersun , and also a small theater also called Café Sol which offers world music. And finally, Black Water Café – above a combo music and bookstore, Notebooks. Not bad – three cool cafés in a town of 431! That’s right, population 431 in 2004.
Older, odder, and even cooler is Oddfella’s Cantina, the original hippy restaurant. Local artists on the wall, natch. This is a full service restaurant with waiters and some great eclectic dining. The accent is on organic local ingredients and they are serious about it, served in recipes with a Tex-Mex /SE Asian slant. Always plenty of veg options. Open for lunch Wed – Sat, Sun brunch is also fine and there is often live music on Thursday or Friday.
Two places for old, authentic country cooking are The Pine Tavern and the Blue Ridge Restaurant. Blue Ridge has a full menu breakfast, lunch and dinner with real home made biscuits, mashed potatoes, sausage gravy, country ham, and homemade pie. The Pine Tavern serves big family-style meals. That’s 2 or 3 meats with sides with big bowls that everyone helps themselves from. Two or three meats means fried chicken, country ham and roast beef with sides – ready? Mashed potatoes, dumplings, green beans, pinto beans, cole slaw, fruit cobbler and home made biscuits. You get all of it. For $12 with three meats, $11 for 2.
The best of these incredibly reasonable family style country restaurants is not in Floyd but about 1/2 hr away. Its called The Homeplace and is definitely, absolutely worth the trip. Catawba, Virginia.
To wash it all down, you can complete your weekend with two good wineries, Chateau Morrisette which has a full, upscale restaurant and Villa Appalachia, which specializes in Italian style wines and is a fun visit too.
There are B and B’s in the area too and did I mention that you are smack on the Blue Ridge Parkway for hiking, biking and camping?
This guest blog is by reformed New Yorker MHF, to whom we really should just give an account.

Part One: From the Scrolls of Haru-chan.

The town had one restaurant, Kuroshin-tei, run by a kindly family called Shiotsuki. One day I went there for lunch with my boyfriend, Akihiro, and his younger brother Kazu. I guess it must have been a holiday because the restaurant was closed. We thought of getting bento at the grocery store but it was closed, too. At a loss for what to do, Kazu suggested going to the diner on the outskirts of town. I’d never been there and Akihiro seemed doubtful that the place was still in operation, but we drove over there anyway, and sure enough, there was a light on inside and we could hear old popular standards playing out of the kitchen.
We went in and the old woman who ran the place damn near died of shock. I don’t think she’d had any customers in years, but she told us to sit down and she gave us some tea – probably from her own pot, because it certainly didn’t seem like she was expecting anyone for lunch. She left us to look over the menu, as the guys shot each other strange looks. The room was large and could’ve seated at least 50. I wondered if it had been popular at some point in the past, but it was hard to imagine very many people coming through the town, which to my knowledge had never had anything that could’ve been called a ‘heyday’. The only decorations in the place were a couple of beer advertisements that looked to be at least twenty years old.
When the woman came to take our order, I asked for katsudon, but they were out. They were out of almost everything. Kazu finally asked, “Well, what can you make?”
“Croquettes” – not what I was in the mood for, but we were pretty hungry, so we went ahead and ordered. The restaurant was silent except for the music and the sound of the woman shuffling around in the kitchen.
Akkun said to Kazu, “Are you sure the food is gonna be okay? I mean, mom would be pretty upset if we both got wiped out.”
Kazu laughed but seemed pretty confident. “If that lady was sitting in the kitchen all morning, they must have customers once in a while… I mean, if no one ever came, why would she waste her time sitting around?”
“Maybe she doesn’t get radio reception at her house.” We really were deep in the mountains. “Besides, the only people who come here are out-of-towners who don’t know any better.”
“Hey,” I said. “Watch it.” I was from out of town and I certainly knew better. The only reason I was there in the first place is that I was stupid enough to trust the two of them.
The food came out and it was good – not great, but passable. Kazuhisa dug right in but Akkun kind of sniffed at his before eating it. Under any other circumstances, this would’ve been a huge insult to the chef, but the old woman could hardly be called a chef, and as it was, she had already shuffled back to the kitchen. I hoped she couldn’t hear us over the radio.
“Hey, stop it. You’re being rude,” said Kazuhisa.
Akkun was still sniffing at his pork cutlet. “What? I just don’t wanna DIE, that’s all.” I was happily tucking away the croquettes, which were still cold in the middle, and cabbage salad smothered in what appeared to be plain mayonnaise.
Kazuhisa was almost finished with his bowl of noodles. He leaned over to Akkun and said, “Are you gonna eat that?” Akkun shook his head.
“Boy, you’re finnicky. No wonder you’re so skinny.”
“I’d be skinnier if I got poisoned.” Kazuhisa rolled his eyes and polished off the cutlet. The old lady came out to refill our tea cups. After she went back to the kitchen, Akkun wondered aloud when she might have last changed the leaves.
“Shh,” said Kazuhisa, “she’ll hear you.”
“She won’t hear me. I don’t think she can hear. She’s a ghost,” said Akkun, who, in addition to being a picky eater, was weirdly superstitious and scared of anywhere that people said was haunted. In the mountains, practically everywhere is haunted. Kazuhisa rolled his eyes again.
“Come on, let’s go.” He grabbed the check and we got up from the small table.
“Yeah,” Akkun said under his breath, “let’s get the hell out of here. This place gives me the creeps.”
“Sissy,” said Kazuhisa; and to the old woman, “Thanks! It was great!”
She muttered something incomprehensible. I was pretty familiar with the local dialect but could not make out what she said, and I don’t think Kazuhisa or Akkun could either. We hightailed it out to the car. Closing the doors and buckling our seatbelts, we looked at each other but were afraid to talk. It was as if the weird whatever it was that hung in the air at the restaurant had followed us outside and into the car. Kazuhisa started the engine. Pulling away from the place, Akkun said, “Okay, we’re never going there again.”
“Why not?” Kazuhisa asked. He was kind of oblivious, a strange counterpoint to Akkun’s neuroses.
“Ghost bento. Never again.” That was all Akkun would say on the subject. He was paler then usual and his hand was cold in mine.
Kazu chuckled. “Ghost bento. Classic.” He turned to us and said, “Hey, did you guys hear the microwave beep? I think she was defrosting your croquettes!” Even Akkun had to laugh. I wondered how long those croquettes had been in the freezer and felt slightly sick.
maw is currently acting as our roving blogger in Japan. Gosh darn you, maw.-zaf

Here it is, Part two: the best of Australia and New Zealand measured in Chipotle Burritos
Australia:
Bluegrass/Alice Springs – Yet more nouveau. This place is unusual in Australia for serving something besides deep fried potatoes. Almost as good as a burrito.
The Pier Seafood Restaurant/Lorn– Built on the dock, try the blackened salmon in citrus rosemary sause. Oh yes oh yes. Better than a burrito, and fresher!
Fish Frenzy/ Hobart– This is the #1 place in the world for beer battered fish and chips*. Its imperitive that everyone eats there once before they die. (* According to me.) More fattening than a burrito.
The Ugly Duck out/Swansea- Crazy nouveau world-class cuisine with fish and smoothies and things. The real question is, how the hell did this chef end up in Swansea (pop 529). About as good as a burrito
L’unico/Sydney– Northern Italian. Better than a burrito and 100x the price
Fran’s/Larrimah- The best pies. Ever. Get there in time for Spicy buffalo and cheese, stay for Fran’s opinions on home schooling in the outback. Fran is also the Mayor and tourist office of Larrimah, pop. 7. Better than a burrito. Actually, if Fran ever opens an American chain, Chiptole is in trouble.
Ba Ba Lu Bar/Lorne – Delectable tapas. Those of you who dare to ask for a straw for your mojito will get the stare of doom. Almost as good as a burrito, but Chipotle gives out straws.
New Zealand
Cook ‘n’ With Gas/Christchurch- This place will give you directions to a beer brewery, chat up your boyfriend, and make fun of your accent. It also serves lamb and steaks that are as satisfying as a burrito.
Vudu/Queenstown- The best place to fill up on all the stuff you’ll loose later when you sky-dive/ bungi-jump/parasail/ do all those other obligatory things in Queenstown. About half as good as a burrito, but it tries harder.
French Farm/ Akaroa- It’s neither restaurant nor farm, but a winery with a freakishly huge cheese plate full of pates and things. Amg says: ‘bloody brilliant’. Not sure if it was better than a burrito due to heavy wine sampling.

It’s exactly 10 months since zaf and amg left DCFUD in the hands of our excellent guest editors and set off to find food poisoning in new places. And tomorrow, we return to you victorious, having successfully been poisoned by an amazing variety of culinary methods It would have been later, but our craving for a burrito got to be too much. Also, we’re broke.
But I mean it about the burrito. They have become my de facto unit of currency. Common statements have been ‘Hey, you should buy that, it only costs two burritos.’ And, ‘Man, that dinner was four burritos and it still sucked.’
So here it is, Homecoming Part One: the best permanent restaurants from Japan, Thailand, Vietnam, Singapore, Malaysia, and Hong Kong, measured in burritos. Special thanks to everyone who supplied us with all the antibiotics that made this trip possible.
Japan:
Serina Honten, Tokyo- They massage the cows and feed them beer. It sounds like a frat prank, instead it’s beef so tender that it can be eaten like sushi. And there are Geishas! Better than a burrito, and with a price tag of about fifty of ’em, it better be.
Generic, coin operated, noodle shops- They have them everywhere, covered in fried eggs and fish flakes. About half as good as a burrito.
Thailand:
Streetfood, Bangkok- The pork noodles served out of the back of a pickup truck. The rice omelettes. The tenticles on a stick. At least as good as a burrito, and cheaper.
Glass Home, Bangkok- Neuveau thai. It does exist, and this is where you get it. About as good as a burrito.
Vietnam:
Lac Thanh Restaurant: No one speaks English, so the only way to order the crab rice noodles and huge roast prawns is to point and flap around. Almost as good as a burrito.
Mango: A menu that can only be described as neuveau-freaky. Everything on it contains mangos in some fashion. Better than a burrito, and more creative.
Singapore:
Newton Hawker Center: What Thai and Vientnamese street food will turn into once the countries develop more. About as good as a burrito.
Malaysia:
Any of the storefronts in Chinatown/ Kuala Lampur. You’ll know the popular ones from the lines outside. Try the pearl noodles in a claypot, still covered in scorch marks. Almost as good as a burrito, and half the price.
Hong Kong
Yellow door- A private kitchen, with delectable 16 course meals. They warn you, weak whitey that you are, when spicy ones are on their way. Better than a burrito. And spicier.
Da Ping Huo – Another private kitchen. At the end of the 12 course meal the chef comes out of the kitchen and sings opera to you. Much better than a burrito, may I be forgiven.
Hutong- Look over the city while munching oddities like date and tomatoe ice cream. At least as good as a burrito, and much prettier.
Maxim Dim Sum – It’s on the second floor of city hall- tasty and legal at the same time. Really fresh stuff. About as good as a burrito. But in tiny bite-sized portions!
India
Kyhber- So many kababs and curries and breads that you forget about the scary little barefoot kids banging on the car windows on the way there. About as good as a burrito.
Bade Miya- Street food with its own phone number- four men turn kababs while two more toss fresh dosas onto hot metal spheres with freakish speed. About half as good as a burrito.
The Spice Route Apparently this is one of the top 10 restaurants in the world, and the interior took 7 years to hand-carve. And incidentally, the food is pretty good. Better than a burrito, I admit.
Tomorrow: the best of Australia and New Zealand.