Chipping in on Something Fishy

I received confirmation that I will by studying in London next semester (Fall 2007) from Syracuse University's study abroad program a few weeks ago. Naturally, I wanted to begin my adaptation to the British lifestyle immediately. I have yet to start calling the hood of my car the bonnet, but I have been making a concerted effort to eat more fish and chips. In this case, I stopped at the Carousel Mall in Syracuse and bought the fish and chips dinner combo at Arthur Treacher's.

It is important to note that I have an unparalleled love for fish. The kind of love in those classic romance tales "West Side Story" and "You've Got Mail." I don't need much of an excuse to rush out and eat fish and chips. In fact, the night before I ate at Treacher's, my girlfriend and I ate at an Irish pub in downtown Syracuse, Kitty Hoynes, and I ate fish and chips there.

The two meals of fish and chips in less than 20 hours gave me a great chance to compare Treacher's to a more expensive restaurant. In brief, the food at Kitty Hoynes was divine. The beer battered fish essentially melted in my mouth and the chips (known as french fries in less civilized countries) were quite good. It was steaming hot, the atmosphere was filled with Celtic wonder, and it was the day before St. Patrick's day.

Needless to say, Arthur Treacher's in the food court of Carousel Mall at noon on March 17 did not quite live up to the Irish precedent set by Kitty Hoynes. Somehow the Atrium of the mall's food court was not jumping with celtic flutes and art or Guinness. I don't necessarily have a problem with that, considering one of my original goal in eating at Treacher's was not to soak up Irish life, but to bask in the glory of British Cuisine. Confusing the Irish and the British is not a silly mistake I wish to make. Still, I don't think the most British Fish and Chips spots have small birds flying between Wendy's and Taco Bell because they somehow got trapped in the huge glass monstrosity that is the mall.

Regardless, Treacher's food was not too bad, considering the amazing standard that had been set by my meal the previous night. For a little over six bucks I got two pieces of fried fish, chips (large crinkle cut fries) and two hush puppies. The fish was piping hot and pretty tasty, albeit the batter did not melt in my mouth. The chips were a little on the cool side by the time I finished them, and that led to a little stiffness and sogginess, depending on the particular piece of potato. The hush puppies were as good as any I have eaten. That might not be saying much since the only time I ever eat hush puppies is at Arthur Treacher's.

Speaking of the hush puppies, I don't quite know why they are included in Treacher's meal. I was always under the impression that hush puppies originated in the Southern United States, not the shores of the United Kingdom. Since the Union Jack adorns both sides of the banner that proclaims "Fish & Chips" in Treacher's logo, there might be some discontinuity here. Either I am mistaken, or the head chef at Treacher's is. Either way, it seems like a fishy synergy of foods.

For those of you keeping count, Treacher's meal also gives you a medium fountain drink for your six Washington's. There isn't much to say about it, though. The most notable thing is that they have pink lemonade, which I find to be awfully sweet but somehow appealing.

My biggest disappointment at Treacher's is the way the food is served -- cafeteria style. Grab a tray, slap a styrofoam plate on it and fill with fish, chips, and hush puppies. I would like something a little more British -- wrap mine in newspaper please. Oh well, if you eat in a food court, you shouldn't expect to feel like you're grabbing a quick bite before taking the Tube to work.

In the end, the Arthur Treacher's fish and chips meal is a pretty tasty low price alternative to a more expensive joint. I applaud any fast food joint that serves fish of better quality than McDonald's, and Treacher's was serving me some aquatic food that was at least the quality the Gordon's Fisherman would bring home. I could have used better chips, and perhaps a third piece of fish instead of this hush puppies, but that is a minor complaint. I actually ate one hush puppy first because I was quite hungry and waiting for my fountain drink to be filled. It isn't right to complain about the inclusion of the food you eat first. (This is also why there is only one hush puppy in the picture -- I was so ravenous that I scarfed it down before breaking out the camera.)

All of this adds up to give the fish and chips at Arthur Treacher's a solid four out of five sporks. A newspaper, some better batter, and hotter chips would probably bump this meal into the rarefied air of five-spork territory, but you can't overlook a few of the disappointments in the meal. As long as you aren't expecting to feel like you're in Europe, this is a pretty good meal for a fast food joint. Now, in six months I'll let you know how much better fish and chips are in the U.K.

Snickering at Picasa and the New York State Fair

Browsing the different software Google recommends can be dangerous, and this post is evidence of the peril it can cause. Today I downloaded Picasa, the photo-managing software, and felt the need to experiment with its "Blog This" button. The click of a mouse can place your picture in your blog without your having to dictate the messy steps involved in more traditional uploading! My lack of computer savvy-ness has finally paid off!

I found it necessary to upload a picture of myself eating in the food critique blog, and I had surprisingly few shots of this important act. Fortunately, my past endeavors saved me, and Picasa dug up this beautiful image of my trip to the 2006 New York State Fare in Syracuse at the end of August.

Sadly, it has been nearly five months and I cannot recall the exact date or price of my meal that day. Fear not, though, because I know with certainty that I tried one of the most exquisite delicacies to ever escape the confines of a deep fryer. I speak not of french fries, onion rings, or even special Thanksgiving Turkey. No, I had the delight of delights, a fried Snickers bar!

My sensory knowledge is also unblemished by the trials of time, and I can tell you with fair certainty that this hard-to-find caloric bomb costs the better part of five dollars. More importantly, I can tell you that it is pretty darned good. A fried outer shell is a surprisingly fitting wrap around your standard snickers bar.

Of course, the whole thing comes out of the fryer piping hot. Therefore, fried Snickers are impaled on a stick. This fact can make the biting process somewhat difficult. Tearing off a piece of the Snickers is also complicated by the fact that the bar is frozen when dropped in the deep fryer so that the chocolate portion does not melt. The sensation is otherworldly, as the outside is hot and the innards of the concoction are quite cold. It doesn't hurt the flavor, either. But frozen Snickers are notorious for being difficult to bite, and I had problems with the deep fried outside sliding off the candy bar.

The two temperatures also wrought havoc on my sensitive front teeth. Eating this thing was like competing in an oral pain marathon, but the sensations coming from my tongue were enough to keep me chomping down.

Of course, anyone considering eating the fried Snickers should not consider the health implications of ingesting such food. A deep fried candy bar -- take that, trans-fat bans and fitness gurus! In case the snickers and deep frying weren't enough, the kind people at the fried snicker's booth topped off my prize with some chocolate syrup and powdered sugar. I suppose those hundred calories were justs a drop in the bucket compared to the rest of the bar-on-a-stick.

Caution: eating a fried snickers will almost surely result in a serious case of stomach cramps. The thing lays there like you just swallowed a bar of solid iron. Between my soaring risk of heart attack and twisting tummy, I was happy the state fair only offers these things once a year.

But, for all of it's caloric overindulgence and swinely charm, the fried Snicker's falls a little short of the stardom achieved by my personal favorite unhealthy-fried-treat, the fried Oreo. The whole hot/cold situation is interesting, but it can hamper the eating experience between tooth pain and disintegrating food. Fried Oreos are just a bite or two, with little temperate variation. My stomach never goes to bed angry at me for eating fried Oreos, either.

Still I must say the Snickers was an overall positive experience. The chocolate and caramel are surprisingly suited to be engulfed in more fat, and I now have the (dubious) ability to proudly claim that I have eaten a fried Snickers. In the end, cholesterol and logistics combined to clog this fair-specialty's ability to rate highly. It receives a solid but somewhat-disappointing three out of five sporks. At least I can use its picture to test new software.

Celebrating with KFC's Famous Bowls

I had planned to pen a one-year anniversary edition of this sparingly-updated food critique, but it seems that fate had other plans. The week of June 15 was filled with car accidents and medical turmoil, so I have unfortunately been forced to delay the yearly celebration for two weeks.

Sadly, this delay means that the scheduled party, which included fireworks and a brass band, will not come together. The president and other important guests had prior commitments for this weekend, and the pyrotechnic experts are busy preparing for the fourth of July. Instead, a festive food review will have to commemorate this momentous occasion.

And what a food review it is. Today’s product is as American and as celebratory as anyone could expect for an anniversary food review. There is little in the world that is more indulgent than KFC. And today I will discuss one of KFC’s “Famous Bowls”.

The Famous Bowls are a blend of everyone’s favorite KFC offerings. There is a base of KFC’s delectable mashed potatoes and gravy. There is a layer of sweet corn. Bite sized pieces of white fried chicken are then blanketed in a three-cheese blend.

The first time I heard about this combination of food, I was stunned. Mashed potatoes almost always accompany my chicken orders at KFC, and the good people in Kentucky decided to save me the trouble of ordering two things. They also threw in some cheese and sweet corn for my pleasure. I don’t know anyone other than members of PETA that would protest KFC chicken being combined with mashed potatoes in one dish.

I personally do not care for sweet corn, but no one at KFC seemed offended or distressed when I requested that it be held from my order. The mashed potatoes are as delicious as ever, and the chicken pieces are quite tender and tasty. The gravy mixes well with both flavors, and the blend of cheeses is an addition that truly compliments the other flavors.

Of course, KFC is never particularly healthy food. Mixing numerous KFC products is not recommended for one’s cardiovascular health. However, the Famous Bowl is perfect for a bit of celebratory indulgence. I would recommend it for the celebration of some obscure anniversary. You get two or three KFC foods for about four bucks, (prices may vary, you know) which saves you both money and the hassle of ordering. It truly is a delectable way to celebrate.

Buried in Cream, and a Diet Aftertaste

There is currently a debate that rages within the shores of America that threatens to tear the fabric of our nation apart. It sectionalizes our country and has been the cause of many shouting matches which I have witnessed. This divisive issue is the nomenclature of carbonated beverages more officially known as soft drinks.

Some call these drinks “soda”. Others say the name is “pop”. Still another party insists the name is “soda pop”. The variations on these names seem endless, and the dispute has caused many difficulties over the years. Today, I confront one of those difficulties head on. It is my intention, however dangerous, to attempt to review Diet Berries’n Cream Dr. Pepper. Although I could skirt the issue by writing “soft drinks” constantly, I choose to step outside of boundaries and confront the squabble.

Roughly a week ago, Dr. Pepper began a marketing blitz pushing the “Berries’n Cream” flavor. The television commercials feature a man with a soda can glued to his lips. My eyes lit up when I saw this feature. The drink is so good that you can’t take it away from your mouth! If watching a young man fall down stairs because he is drinking Dr. Pepper doesn’t make you want to down some sodapop-pop-soda, nothing will.

The slogan, “get buried in cream” is slightly less enticing. More conventional burying, such as being buried in the sand at the beach, have never truly appealed to me. The saying also conjures up terrible memories of a disaster movie involving a Cool-Whip plant. Regardless of the slogan, Dr. Pepper’s marketing forced me to review their latest soda-pop-sodapop.

In doing this, I was at a slight disadvantage in that I have never tasted the “Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper”. If one is to review a highly modified cola, he or she should probably sample the original twice-flavored pop-sodapop-soda. I truly do not drink the fizzy stuff regularly, so I was forced to skip the Doctor’s first complex drink and dive into the second.

Berries’n Cream Dr. Pepper comes in both diet and original varieties. Unfortunately, the news stand where I secured the sodapop-pop-pop-soda-pop only offered diet. Certain portions of the population (myself included) have never learned to live with the aftertaste of a diet drink, so I crossed my fingers in hope that I would be buried in cream rather than Nutra-Sweet.

After taking my first swig of the pop-soda-sodapop-soda my first impression was that it contained more carbonation than regular Dr. Pepper. However, just after this thought I was struck by the fact that the carbonation tasted slightly creamy. Until tasting this concoction, I never knew it was possible to have creamy bubbles. Fortunately for the world, Dr. Pepper has learned how to achieve this feat.

There may have been a slight hint of a berry flavor present as well, but it was barely noticeable. It was present enough that no one should sue Dr. Pepper for false advertising and faulty labeling, but those with a fetish for fruit flavors shouldn’t be running to their nearest supermarket to pick up this drink, either. A better name would be Dr. Pepper’n Cream. Or perhaps it could be called “Creamy Dr. Pepper”. The current nomenclature is clearly attempting to cash in on the allure of complexity rather than any actual berry flavor.

But the final flavor that lingered in my mouth was the watery, somewhat bitter “diet aftertaste”. Diet Soda’s are undrinkable for many due to this problem, and I was unable to finish my bottle. Regular diet drinkers won’t notice anything wrong with this taste, as it is identical to the aftertaste of any other diet cola. However, those that like their sodas untainted will be gravely disappointed.

In the end, Diet Berries’n Cream Dr. Pepper was an interesting idea that promised more than it could deliver. I plan to sample the regular variation of the drink in hopes that it will be superior to its sister. Until then, the soda-pop-pop-soda only gets one out of five sporks for a very disappointing aftertaste and lack of berry flavor.