Boxd…Dreams Made of Waffles

Under the category of goddamn genius, you'll find Boxd located in Carlsbad, California. Kay and I stopped by Boxd while visiting California and couldn't believe how simple yet effective this business is. If you like waffles (who doesn't) then this place is for you. The menu is simple, it's waffle sandwiches filled with whatever you want (eggs, bacon, fruit...) (Insert Kay: You take a waffle. Put some shit in the middle. Fold it over. Then you eat it. Done and Done…Bananas and Nutella Waffle…drooling just thinking about it). They have a seating area on the street corner and they've landscaped it to look like a small park. (Insert Kay: Of course, it IS Sunny Southern California, ...so, it's easier to have a year-round outdoor restaurant. Might be a little harder on the East Coast. Grrr, stupid Maryland weather.) After polishing of my waffle sandwich, I thought this about the entire setup.

Ask yourself, what would be better than hand crafted waffle sandwiches sold out of a shipping container in a small public park? Nothing, asshole. If I were ever going to rip off an idea, this would be it. Here is my business plan:

1) acquire shipping container
2) buy waffle iron and small griddle
3) rent a small space in city
4) make money

When (note I said when) you visit Carlsbad, make sure you take time to stop by and visit Boxd. They aren't open late so plan on breakfast or lunch (I refuse to say brunch since only douches use that word). If you don't have time to take a trip to the west coast, you can simply stop by our own version of Boxd here in Frederick, MD once we get it going. If any of you assholes rip off my ripped off idea and start this here before we do, you'll need to add step 5 to your business plan (receive ass whooping). And for a rating, obviously, we're going with a Hell Yeah here.

When Pigs Fly…The Flying Pig

 

(Disclaimer: Since Jay has a very short attention span, we've decided to shorten our posts a bit so they are short and sweet. This will help Jay stay on track a bit more and will allow us to … squirrel!)

Kay and I visited some friends one friend, one asshole out in California and decided to take this bitch coast to coast. Just north of San Diego you'll find the town of Oceanside, home of The Flying Pig. From the outside, you would never think to go into this joint but you'll be pleasantly surprised if you do. (Insert Kay: It literally looks like an abandoned warehouse building from the outside, we didn't have high hopes)

The Flying Pig offers an eclectic (big word, hope I spelled it correct) dining experience. Old LP covers (records, dumb ass) are used for menu holders, plenty of original art, and no two chairs match but some how they do. My menu was an old Bee Gees album and chest hair is the first thing I usually think of when ordering food. The shrimp and grits I had was really good with plenty of flavor. Kay's pork chops were also good (Insert Kay: Jay, that might be one of the best YouTube links you've done to date. Nice work, that is some creative genius shit right there. Of course, now that song will be stuck in my head for, like, 8 days!). There are plenty of craft beers on tap for those of you who can't make it through a day without one. (Insert Kay: Are you referring to someone specific here Jay?)

Not that you're going anytime soon, but if you do find yourself driving through Oceanside (Insert Kay: or O'side for all the kewl kids), look for The Flying Pig. Also look for our friend (singular), she'll meet you for ice cream anytime. (But, you'll also need our other friend to actually drive you to said ice cream shop, that is unless you want to ride on the back of her bike, which I hear can be a little bit sketchy these days…) Rating, Hell Yeah, stamp it.

The Red Roost

Kay and I found ourselves in Salisbury for her sister's umpteenth graduation and decided to take a pit stop for some grub. Driving directions are as follows: First, drive just outside Salisbury, then proceed to the middle of nowhere, turn left at the boonies (there is literally a sign for the boonies) and you'll find yourself located in east bumfuck. (Insert Kay: For reals) While you're there, visit The Red Roost for some local eastern shore (Maryland, asshole) seafood. Not sure how we managed to find this place (I visited their website and clicked on directions tab and it actually gives the same directions) but it was worth the drive (Insert Kay: And luckily we, eventually, found our way back to civilization!).

Once we arrived and the "where the hell am I" feeling wore off, we entered the restaurant. You'll first pass through the bar area where you can staple a signed dollar bill to the wall or ceiling. You can look for ours, it's the one with the middle finger that says "Eat Bitch!". Actually don't look for it because my dumb ass didn't think of doing that until just now. (Insert Kay: You're always a dollar short and a day late, Jay. HaHa…see what a did there…a dollar, and you were talking about a dollar…get it. Sigh.) After passing through the bar, we were quickly greeted and seated, the joint had just opened and we were some of the first customers of the day. (Insert Kay: You know a place is going to be good when there are already several parties there 5 minutes after it opens, despite it being in the middle of effing nowhere.) This upgraded chicken shack (read their website...it literally was a chicken shack at one point) is mainly seafood fare but there is more to eat if you're not into crabs and such. If you're not familiar with how to eat crabs then you're the asshole, read the website's "how to" section. Seriously, that's the third mention about their website, read it, because otherwise you'll never find this place… and don't drive out there alone (safety in numbers). Kay and I checked out the menu for a few minutes and decided to go with "the red roost" which is a clam bake for two. What's a clam bake? Lot's of good seafood covered in Old Bay brought to you in a big ass pot. What's Old Bay? You really are an asshole and you're not from Maryland. You could put Old Bay Seasoning on a dog turd and it would taste good.

So we didn't have to wait to long because steamed seafood doesn't take too long to cook. Our clam bake arrived in glorious fashion: clams, crabs, shrimp, chicken, corn on the cob in tow. I ate most of the food as usual, snooze you lose Kay. All of the food was cooked well and I don't even think we had one bad crab (which can sometimes be normal when ordering crabs). The shrimp were cooked perfectly and the corn (though not local since it was not in season yet) was tasty. We were too far from home to take anything home so I made the bad decision of trying to finish everything. Bad idea. I think I shit an entire crab later in the evening. (Insert Kay: Lovely imagery Jay. You have such a way with words)

The Red Roost delivered. The atmosphere inside was cool, down to the crab basket lamp shades. The restaurant has a unique story and is a local hot spot. I use the term "local" loosely because there is nothing near this place, but it's worth driving off the beaten path every now and then. If we had to give this place a rating, we would go with "good enough to take your parents to". We actually took Kay's parents, well technically they took us since they picked up the tab.


(Insert Kay: Below: This is where the Red Roost is located. We TOLD you it was in the middle of nowhere. I still don't know where we were!)

 

Jim's vs Pat's vs Geno's

A few weeks ago I headed up to Philly with a friend for a bachelor party. One of the perks was getting to put down a good cheesesteak. When I say "a", I mean three. One of the things that Frederick is missing is a good cheesesteak, so I was excited to go to the motherland. Here is an account of the three pit stops that we made throughout the night. (Insert Kay: No, I was not present for this cheesesteak adventure, but Jay is still talking about it. And talking about it. So, I feel like I was almost there.)

Jim's Steaks
Jim's was our first stop on the Tour de Philly. After getting lucky on a parking spot right around the corner, we headed inside. The line wrapped around the inside about three times and we had about one foot in the door. This was at 4:00, definitely a good sign. My friend is from Philly so he schooled me on how to order. In Philly they keep their cheesesteaks simple: with or without onions and type of cheese. Sure you can get peppers and other shit but you don't need it. I was told if I were going to do it right to order "one whiz wit" (translation for assholes, self included, one cheesesteak with onions and Cheez Whiz). The cook sent me on my way and I destroyed it like Maximus Decimus Meridius. It was delicious and I enjoyed every moment.

Pat's Steaks
Pat's King of Steaks was the site of cheesesteak number two. This was after the bachelor party and was around 1:00 am. My friend thought I was joking when I said let's hit it up on the way home but...when in Rome. After a quick trip across town we found ourselves at Pat's and were able to just walk up to an outside window and order. One whiz wit, order up! Literally 10 seconds later I had a cheesesteak in my hand, they don't fool around at this joint. We headed back to the car, planning to eat on the road. But before getting in, I found myself staring at the glow of Geno's just across the street. I tossed my cheesesteak to my friend and told him I'd be back in a minute. For the record, the cheesesteak was awesome but I did save a few bites for Kay. (Insert Kay: Surprisingly, he actually DID save me some!)

Geno's Steaks
Directly across the street from Pat's you will find Geno's. These two places could not look any different. Pat's is classic white lights and simple, Geno's looks like Vegas at night. I think I actually got food and a tan from the neon lights. An old pro now, I walked up and got my whiz whit. Biggity bam, cheesesteak number three. I headed back to the car, responded to some dude asking me for weed by telling him to just go to Pat's or Geno's and began enjoying another slice of heaven. In the car my friend asked if I were actually going to eat a third cheesesteak and with a mouth full I answered "why?". Geno's steak, equally awesome. Not a big fan of the "hey look at me vibe" though. The cheesesteak speaks for itself, they can do without the abundance of lights. I did save Kay a few bites but they were gone the next day before she had a chance. (Insert Kay: Asshole.)

So here is the verdict. If you order a cheesesteak anywhere outside of Philly, it's not a Philly cheesesteak. In fact, it should not even have the word "Philly" on the menu. I think it's the bread, I can't explain the taste but you can't find it outside the city. Also the Cheez Whiz is a must. When they make these cheesesteaks, the ingredients are simple: steak, onion, whiz, bread (no seasoning is required and don't eff it up by putting ketchup on it).  The main difference from each sandwich is how finely the meat is chopped. Geno's doesn't chop the sliced steak, Pat's chops the meat rather fine and Jim's is between the two. You can't go wrong with any of the three but if I had to pick one I'd go with Jim's. The flavors are basically the same but I preferred the chopped steak size at Jim's. If anyone wants to take a trip to Philly, hit me up, I'm ready for another. For the record that was three cheesesteaks in one night, bring it.

(Insert Kay: Since Jay's Cheesesteak extravaganza, he has actually insisted we try making our own at home. So, he sent me on a wild goose chase at our local grocery store looking for some fancy-schmancy type of hoagie roll nobody had ever heard of and cheese whiz. I had never bought it before and had a really hard time finding it. (Insert Jay: It's CHEEZ. No wonder you couldn't find it, you dumb bitch!). After three loops around the store, and multiple employee's help, I finally managed to find it. Ironically, it's in the dairy section with the cheese. I'm the asshole here, I guess. While our homemade cheesesteaks were good...they didn't quite pair up with the Philly standard. I guess we were lacking the years' worth of grease and grime on our griddle.)

PS—Jay was so busy demolishing cheesesteaks that he forgot to take a lot of photos. The one above was the only thing that was left before he finally remembered.

Madrones

In a failed attempt to eat at Buffalo Wild Wings, Kay and I found ourselves at Madrones (their website is a .net…amateur hour) over in the Clemson Corner shopping center in Frederick, MD. Prior to entering the restaurant, Kay and I argued over whether or not this was a chain. Judging by the location, neon sign, and logo, all signs pointed to yes. But, after we both did some research, it appears that it is not a chain afterall (but I'm still not convinced.)

When we entered the restaurant, everything said chain steakhouse. Fake stone fireplace, a shitload of tables/booths, deer antler lights and a douche behind the bar. The Janet Jackson (I call her Ms. Jackson, cuz I'm nasty) playing on the house stereo did throw me, though. (Insert Kay: Yes, I was shocked that Jay knew this old 'skool' Janet Jackson reference too! "No my first name ain't baby!") We were quickly greeted by the hostess who was wearing a low cut shirt complemented with a huge rack, a plus in any guy's book. Unfortunately she wasn't our server so that was a minus. (Insert Kay: Yeah. I was super upset.)

Our server was quick to arrive since there wasn't a lot people in the place. (Insert Kay: It was like a Monday night). He took our drink order and gave us a few minutes to look over the menu. (Insert Kay: While we didn't get drinks this time around, Madrone's drink menu seemed really extensive. They had a wall filled with whiskey and other liquor bottles, plus a good selection of craft beers.) After viewing the menu, I realized I was wrong about the steakhouse theme, this joint was just normal American fare. Our waiter returned to take our order and proceeded to break rule #1. He immediately turned to me and said "I'll take your order first, sir". Look, I'll admit that I'm the biggest asshole I know, (Insert Kay: Truer words have never been spoken) but even I know you always take the broad's order first. I looked over at Kay when he said that and just gave her the "did that shit just happen?" look. Apparently it did, so I quickly got over it and ordered the hickory burger. Kay ordered the grilled portobellos & goat cheese pasta.

Our food arrived in a timely manner. But to be honest, it was rather boring. I wasn't impressed and I wasn't disappointed. It was the most non exciting meal I've had in a long time. I may or may not have fallen asleep in the middle of it. It was kind of like hitting LC's behind the dumpsters in shop class. (Insert Kay: Jay, what the hell are you talking about!?) That statement makes no sense (stop trying to figure it out asshole) and that's how I felt after the meal. (Insert Kay: Oh.)  (Insert Kay: While my meal looked promising, it was WAY too salty. As in drink-3-full-glasses-of-water salty. I couldn't even finish half of it. And holy goat cheese balls....it was just a lot of cheese. If you really like cheese, you may like this dish, it was just too much for me)

After finishing our meals, we wrapped up the check and simply headed home. I did catch a good look of the boobie hostess on the way out. I gave her my best pick up line (seen here), not sure how she took it though. As far as a rating, we'd give this one an "eh". Onto the next venture. (Insert Kay: Since this restaurant has only just recently opened, I may try it again in a few months. We've heard a lot of people really enjoy their food here, so maybe we just hit them on an off night?)

B-Dubbs

What the hell is B-Dubs you ask? Buffalo Wild Wings for all you punk bitches who aren't in the know. (Insert Kay: While we usually don't post on chain-type restaurants, we had a special connection with this one…read on) Seeing as we are big time bloggers and food critics, we got a special invite to a soft opening for the new Frederick B-Dubs located by Wegman's (what the hell do you call that area?). For the record, I generally only use the word "soft" when referring to anyone other than myself, but the opening of this restaurant is an exception. What is a soft opening you ask? It's when a new restaurant opens only for special guests to have a trial run through a full night of service. So if you're keeping score at home, there is a new B-Dubs in Frederick and we were invited to prep the restaurant for service (keep up assholes). (Insert Kay: OK, so now you know that we are a little late on this post, because the Frederick BWW has been opened for over a month now. But that's ok—we do what we want. Don't judge, it's been a busy winter, bitches.)

Shortly after arriving, we were seated and our waitress informed us how the evening was going to go. The rules were simple. Order anything you want, just try to pick something from each section of the menu, food is free and beer is donation for charity. At this point I think I heard angels sing. It took me a minute to figure out what I wanted to eat. It wasn't the abundance of choices, it was 200+ tv's all playing sports at full blasting volume. I didn't know which one to watch or where to look. There are a lot of distractions, it was kinda like this. If you have ever been to Glory Days, (Insert Kay: Or any sports bar/ restaurant, for that matter) B-Dubs is basically the same thing but on steroids.

After assimilating to the surroundings, we figured out what we wanted to eat. Wings asshole. We wanted to try 3 different flavors and went with honey bbq, salt & vinegar, and hot bbq. I asked for 6 of each but the waitress said they were only taking orders for 12. I told her I couldn't eat that much but she didn't mind, 36 wings coming up. (Insert Kay: Yes, he did. He literally ordered 36 wings.)  We also ordered some appetizers just for shits and giggles. I was surprised to find out that B-Dubs actually offers craft beers. (Insert Kay: Seriously, we were surprised at the variety of their selection. I'm the beer connoisseur of this marriage, so what I say goes.) We ordered up a few that I haven't heard and were pleasantly surprised. They had a few stouts that were tasty and I would recommend them if you're into stouts. (Insert Kay: As a slacker food blogger, Jay, of course, forgot which stout beers he would actually recommend. You suck, Jay) Our food arrived and at the same time so did one of the managers to see how things were going. For starters, the manager was a huge bitch. (Insert Kay: Word.)  She was actually my sister but she is still a bitch. She checked in on all tables to see how things were going but the side order of attitude delivered to our table wasn't appreciated. Oh well, she got us in for free, seems like a fair trade. (Insert Kay: We'll keep her. For now.) I dove into the salt&vinegar wings first and must admit I was pleasantly surprised. If you like the S&V potato chips, I say you should give these wings a try. I then tried the hot bbq. WOW. On the burn your butthole meter, I would have to give them a 9. Translation of burn your butthole meter: a 9 is when you want to dunk your ass in the toilet after taking a shit due to the spicy food you ate the night before. (Insert Kay. Sorry ladies. He's taken. And yes, this is an actual conversation we've had before. I am such a lucky gal.) The honey bbq were more reasonable. The apps were great and we even got dessert as well. My dumb bitch sister said dessert wasn't allowed but I told her to make it happen. (Insert Kay: Hot fudge sundaes. If you've read some of our previous posts, you KNOW how I like a hot fudge sundae, bitch.)

All in all, B-Dubs was great. They have a shitload of wings to choose from as well as plenty of visual stimulation. If you see a tall skinny broad ordering people around, don't give her a hard time. I've got that covered. As for a rating, we give this one a Good Enough to Take Your Parents To! (Insert Kay: Wait, your parents actually were there.)

Sidenote- When my sister and I were young, we used to play this game called "waitress". She would act as my waitress and prepare me food. When it was my turn to play, I would always say, "nah, I quit this job". She always went first in the game and I always quit at my turn. Dumb bitch fell for it every time. Now look at her, she is running a restaurant and is more than playing waitress. Nice.

The Loveless Cafe

Kay and I were in Nashville for a few days with some friends to celebrate New Year's. I had a few things to check off my list while we were visiting. Riding a mechanical bull was at the top of the list, but, unfortunately too much BBQ and too many beers foiled that plan. And hitting up the Loveless Cafe for breakfast was at the top of the list too. Luckily, I was able to convince my friends to drive about 20 minutes outside of town to this little slice of heaven, otherwise known as The Loveless Cafe, and eat the best biscuits they would ever eat for the rest of their life. Bold statement but it is fact.

When we arrived, Kay ran in to put in our name for a table for 6. She came out to tell us how long the wait was going to be (Insert Kay: Wait for it…) 2 HOURS! Two hours, Eff me in the A! Two GD hours for breakfast, WTF! The line of people sitting around outside and the fact that it was Sunday morning should have been an indication that the wait would be long, but seriously 2 effing hours is a long time to wait when all you want is some food after a long night of beers and rockabilly. I figured my friends would want to roll out but surprisingly they decided to give it a go. It couldn't actually be two hours could it?

So while waiting, we decided to check out the gift shops that are also on the property. For anyone who visits the Loveless, this is a must. As I said, they serve the best biscuits of your life and you can purchase the mix at their store or online here. Just mix with buttermilk and biggity friggin bam— biscuits, biatch! So after getting my biscuit mix, the wait for our name proceeded. While eating some snacks from the store our name was called. The wait was only around an hour and fifteen, shy of two hours but still a long time. (Insert Kay: Jay and I had been to The Loveless once before, so we knew the wait was worth it. But, I seriously don't know how we convinced our friends to stay and wait that long! Jedi Mind tricks and all.)

Upon entering, be sure to check out some of the autographs of the famous assholes that have visited this place. I'm surprised they didn't ask me for an autograph but I'll let it slide. (Insert Kay: Lame, Jay So, lame.) We were seated and quickly greeted by the friendly (yet super busy) wait staff and everyone in our party ordered the family style breakfast to share among the six of us. (Insert Kay: So, after some fierce competitions of word finds and fill-in-the-blanks on the paper placemats...I came in second. Jay came in last probably…) Eggs, bacon, home fries and the other normal breakfast goodies were quickly brought to the table. Oh and the biscuits, have I mentioned the biscuits? (Insert Kay: Not to mention all the homemade preserves—peach, blackberry, strawberry and more—to spread on the biscuits, heavenly biscuits) The first few minutes of eating were mainly grunts and points to pass plates as we were all starving, especially after the long wait. I knew the biscuits were going to be on point but one thing I overlooked was the bacon. One of my friends can be quoted as saying it's the best bacon he has ever eaten and this guy knows all about smoked meat (and by smoked meat I mean....you get where I'm going). (Insert Kay: Seriously, the bacon was amazing. We took a pile of bacon back to our hotel room and even ate it cold. It was still THAT EFFING GOOD!) The food was good and it kept coming, you can't beat all you can eat. The waitress did a great job keeping up, the restaurant was packed.

So to sum it up: Bacon? Good. Biscuits? Good. The wait? Sucked balls, but not their fault (Sunday breakfast in the south and all). As far as a rating goes, we'll give it a hell yeah. If you're ever in Nashville make sure to check this place out. It's off the beaten path but well worth it y'all (in the south, sentences don't end with a period, they end with "y'all"). (Insert Kay: And we are still enjoying the Loveless biscuits, we've been making some every weekend! Hell yeah!)

PS-We apologize for the lack of photos in this post. We blame it on Kay's stupid iphone deleting all her Nashville photos. Kay is a dumb bitch. Fact.

Bound'ry Restaurant

Sorry for the lack of posts, I lost my mojo with the blogging shit. Here's my problem, I'm laying down comic genius but I don't get feedback with the anonymity. I say screw it, if we can't put your restaurant on blast without having the balls to let you know who we are—then we're the assholes. We'll stick with the "Jay" and "Kay" moniker for the blog (I say it's a stupid idea, but Kay wants to run it). (Insert Kay: Word.) You can find out who we are if you follow Kay on FB. So that's that, on to the Bound'ry.

We headed down to Nashville with some friends to celebrate the New Year. We got all gussied up for New Years' Eve and went out for a nice meal at the Bound'ry. For starters, I know it's spelled wrong. But they're in the south so we'll cut them some slack. They made up for their lack of spelling with short notice reservations. I called the same day at noon for a table for 6 at 6:00 (Insert Kay: On New Year's Eve, mind you). I was surprised that they were able to accommodate with such short notice. I, like Vin Diesel, live my life a quarter of a mile at a time. Here's the link if you assholes don't get the reference. So after some drinks at The Patterson House, (Insert Kay: Check this joint out too if you ever find yourself in Music City! It has a great Prohibition era, speakeasy vibe serving classic cocktails.) we headed down to the Bound'ry (bitches in tow) (Insert Kay: Hay-ay!).

Upon arrival, I was impressed with the vibe of this joint. They had some flame shit going on out front and the inside was artistic as well. We were seated as soon as we arrived and greeted by our waiter within minutes. We ordered drinks and while waiting, some waters arrived along with these crazy ass bread sticks and various breads. This is not a "stale bread in a basket wrapped with the same napkin as your fork" kind of place. (Insert Kay: Very fancy-schmancy!)

Each of my friends ordered a different meal. Let me give it up to the waiter who took 6 orders without writing anything down. Look, I know we don't all aspire to be a waiter when we are kid. If you do, take notes from this dude. He made recommendations and was insightful on the menu. I went with their version of shrimp and grits and Kay went with the pork chops. One of our friends ordered the antelope. (Insert Kay: What kind of DB orders antelope? Just kidding, love ya "Chapstick"!) The menu says the antelope is from Texas but since when do antelopes roam the plains of Texas? I thought those bastards were chilling in Africa with Simba and shit. At any rate, all of our meals were on point. This was the best last meal I could have had for 2012. My shrimps (as they say in the south) were perfectly cooked and the portion size along with flavors were perfect. I tasted all of my friend's meals and they were great as well (except for the antelope, what asshole eats antelope?). Each meal had a distinct flavor and I could have eaten any of them. (Insert Kay: My pork chops were equally as amazing. So tender and flavorfull—I wish I could've eaten the entire plate! Plus they served a local Nashvillian craft beer that I discovered on my last visit to Nashville—Yazoo Brewing Company. I went with the hefeweizen…yum.)

After our meal, we headed downtown to catch the Old Crow Medicine Show perform at The Ryman Theater. Pokey LaFarge opened up the show and it was a perfect end to a great evening. If you're ever in Nashville, I would highly recommend the Bound'ry. Great atmosphere, great food, great friends (dresses could have been a bit more low cut but whatever). (Insert Kay: Dude, it was effing January)

All things considered, we'd give The Bound'ry a "Hell Yeah!", and would definitely recommend if you ever find yourselves in Nashville (Insert Kay: "Y'all). Prices were on the steep side, but for a special dinner, definitely check it out next time you're down south.