It's all about your outlook on life.  It's all about what you make it ... Scratch that … it's all about the BREAD.  Seriously, was there ever any doubt?  Did anyone  really think that you could trump the warm, crunchy, soul-satisfying pleasure that comes from a great sandwich ... on even greater bread.  So as I got the GRUB-suggestion from my buddy Tony F., I knew it was only a matter of time when I took a journey down Melrose … avoiding the hipsters and starlets … and going straight for the GRUB-spot, where the name says it all.

And boy, was it spot on.  Baking it up fresh every 30 minutes, the guys at AATB (if it wasn't their nickname before, it is now) are dishing out some pretty heavenly bread to house their dangerously tasty Italian subs.  We went for the turkey (as we always do) and made sure it came loaded up with everything …. provolone, Italian dressing, shredded lettuce, crisp tomatoes, and the real topper of all toppers, spicy giardiniera peppers.  But as they tried to warn us, it really is all about the bread.  It's crispy, it's bubbly, it's crackly, it's savory, it's slightly sweet and all around amazing.  It's sort of like when you hear that some prisoner gets nothing but bread and water and you say … SWEEEET.

We hit them up with our GRUB-mate Joe I., who went for the roast beef, and our veggie loving GRUB-wife who opted for a build-her-own veggie with … and I quote … "Give me every veggie you have!"  Needless to say, it was a good time had by all.  The Mexican cokes were flowing, bags of sea salt and vinegar potato chips were popping … enjoying it all on a long communal wood table that was momentarily taken over by smiles and mouthful grumblings of "damn … this is good."

So check them out and tell them THE GOOD GRUB sent you.  But please … for heaven's sake … remember, it's not about the car you drive … or the size of your wallet … it's all about the GRUB in your face and the BREAD in your belly. 

Boy … am I hungry.  It's been weeks since our last post, mainly because we don't love you anymore.  It's not us, it's you.  You got  … ya know … clingy. 

Wow … I was totally just joshing you.  You should have seen the look on your face … you were all like … crying and everything.  Okay, this is getting as weird for me as it must be for you.  But seriously, you miss me?  You hungry?  You ready for the return of the GRUB?  Well too bad … because here she comes …

And what better way to make a comeback than a two time suggested GRUB spot? … The Griddle Cafe.  Our Grub-buddy John B., of Good Grub fame the likes of Prizzi's and The Oaks Gourmet, was the original GRUB-suggestor … but it was our other Grub-mate Alexis S. who demanded that we hit it up … now.  And who are we to withhold deliciousness from the masses?  So we put on our Grub face and set sail for Sunset Blvd. 

A good sign for any great eatery … line is out the door.  Check.  There's a guy free styling with a boom box for tips … um, check?  There are giant pancakes the size of a small kiddy pool … triple CHECK!  Let's take a moment to revel in the miracle that is the pancake.  For starters … it's a freaking cake. Second off, unlike a traditional cake, people don't look at your funny when you order it breakfast.  We went for the Golden Brick Road … lions, and tigers, and butterscotch … oh yeah.  Spilling over the edges of a giant plate, these bad boys are dangerous.  Loaded up with caramel, butterscotch, and walnuts … it's impossible not to freak out (see picture below) while eating these fluffy, decadent circles of joy. 

If pancakes weren't enough … we also tossed in some "Peanut Bubba" Crunchy French Toast and "Kicking and Screaming" Breakfast Tacos.  Sorry, did we just lose you … yes, "Peanut Bubba" Crunchy French Toast … let the little kid inside of you completely lose your mind and dig into these Nutter Butter dipped slices of glory.  Take that Frenchie!  U.S.A … U.S.A … U.S.A!  But we couldn't let this glutinous feast end there, so we also dived into the aforementioned "Kicking and Screaming" Breakfast Tacos.  Forget the breakfast burrito … it's taco's time to dominate the morning.  Loaded onto some seriously tasty, fresh, warm tortillas goes a medley of eggs, pico de gallo, and avocado. 

I don't know if it was the sugar high we were on from the rest of our meal, but I could have just gone on eating … and eating … and eating.  Okay, I'm still there right now … tell my family I'll miss them.  But seriously, this place was something else.  So hit up the Griddle Cafe … but be warned … as the tears stream down your cheeks as you microwave a bowl of oatmeal ... breakfast will never be the same. 

 

Some people are just born to do what they do.  Like a surfer named Tyler … a police officer named Carl … a "dancer" named Starla.  But most relevant to the Good Grub is the BBQ guru named Gus.  After back to back trips herself, Mama Grub insisted that I hit up the BBQ spot in South Pasadena.  So after I finished my homework … a little paper on Grub-enomics … she and I ventured down Fair Oaks in search of the glowing neon sign pointing you the way to Gus and GRUB glory. 

Making it Mama Grub's third venture in three days, I naturally followed her tutelage and let her guide me through the temptations-a-plenty of BBQ options on the menu.  And so we went for a bounty of BBQ … to share of course … the Carolina style pulled pork sandwich, a half rack of Memphis ribs, sweet potato fries, dirty rice, and BBQ baked beans.  Easy … easy … Don't you worry.  I'll give you all the juicy details.

Let's start with the Carolina's finest … Gus's pulled pork sandwich.  It came loaded on a grilled ciabatta roll, doused with coleslaw (side note … effective January 15th, everything shall be required to be topped with coleslaw … and so it is decided), and ready to be smothered in a bottle of red pepper vinegar sauce.  The pulled pork, was juicy, smoky, and just down-right heavenly.  I love myself a sandwich, where you get to drizzle on a little extra BBQ sauce (choose from their original Memphis style or spicy Kansas City varieties), and just dive into a mish-mash of flavors.  From the cool, creamy coleslaw to the savory pulled pork to the grilled-to-perfection rustic ciabatta … it was like a party in my mouth … but only Gus was invited.

But not to be outdone was the big boy … the half slab of Memphis style baby back ribs.  First off, I don't believe Gus understands fractions … because there is no way that this giant slab of ribs is only half.  These perfectly-chard-on-the-outside, ridiculously-juicy-on-the-inside ribs were large … and just like Charles … they were most definitely in charge.  Fall-off-the-bone is almost an understatement when you talk about the tenderness of these suckers.  It was more like "swan dive from the 23rd floor"-off-the-bone ribs. (copyright, trademark, and patent pending The Good Grub 2012 … okay Gus, you can use it).  I know … it's catchy and better yet, it's true. 

And the sides were not to be overlooked themselves … crispy sweet potato fries, hearty and smokey BBQ baked beans, and their very own dirty rice, which is a medley of rice, meat, and spices … and trust the Good Grub, clean rice is for suckers.  Needless to say, everything got smothered in BBQ sauce, wet naps were flying across the table, and smiles were firmly plastered on both of our faces.  So whether it's a Memphis this, Carolina that, or a Kansas City what-cha-ma-call-it … just know that Gus has got you covered … in GRUB that is.

Oh me, oh my ... Just shake it baby.  Or don't ... Just keep bringing the GRUB.  And so when we were traveling through NY, we made sure to make a pit stop at the Shack. 

We're told there's a few locations in NY, but for us there's nothing quite like the one in Madison Square Park.  I'm just going to throw it out there, but this is the greatest park snack shack ... ever.

We get there, and as is true with most of the great grubberies, the line wraps around the block, or in this case ... through the park. We finally get to the front of the mass of hungry patrons, mouth overwhelmed with anticipation, and succumb to the temptation to go big ... diving in for the Shake Stack.  It's one of their incredibly juicy, bring-a-tear-to-your-eye cheeseburgers topped with a crisp-fried portabello mushroom patty.  It's not the size of the burger that's overwhelming ... it's the awesomeness.  It comes loaded with melted muenster cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, and their secret shack sauce.  I'll give you a hint, the secret is ecstasy ... or paprika.  Add it all up, opt in for some pickles, and throw it between their two baby-soft buns and voila ... you've got a burger that rises to the top.

We've always been a sucker for crinkle cut fries, but we're a damn fool for the Shack's crinkle cut fries.  Crunchy and golden, with those amazing ridges to lock in the ketchupy goodness.  But of course we couldn't stop there.  It's called the Shake Shack.  You don't got to Toys R' Us without getting a toy, you don't go to Sizzlers without getting E. coli ... and you don't go to the Shack without getting a Shake.  Go for the peanut butter and chocolate and tell them the Good Grub sent you ... they probably won't know what you're talking about ... but it'll make me happy.

So hit 'em up and revel in the deliciousness of scrum-diddly-umptious burgers, fries, and shakes.  Whatever you do, head on down to the Love Shack and lose yourself in the love-fest when cheeseburger meets shake meets GRUB.

Somewhere out there, right now, there's a little little kid named Johnny dreaming of becoming a fireman. Oh, poor little Johnny and your underdeveloped imagination. It's time to dream big.  Because right here, right now, there's a big kid named … um … me … dreaming of becoming a Firestone man!  Let's play the pros and cons game.  Pro … Firestone's is a mecca of delicious BBQ.  Dare I say, game over? 

Seriously, is there anything better in the world than great BBQ?  And as such, by the transitive property of Galileo (Johnny, please play better attention in school than I did) is there any better place in the world than Firestone Grill up in San Luis Obispo?  It's one of those places that makes you want to take the 101 when you drive up to San Francisco.  The kind of place that when you mention you're heading up to Cal Poly, it's pretty much assumed you're making a pit stop for GRUB at Firestone's. 

And so last weekend as we hit up our Grub buddy Em-Wow for some agriculturally friendly college living at Cal Poly SLO, we made sure that Firestone was firmly planted in our weekend schedule of shenanigans.  With Em-Wow at our side we were free to do the mix n' match of two of Firestone's finest sandwiches… the pulled pork (aka "The Pig") and their famous tri-tip (aka "One of the greatest things in the world"). 

Both were painfully delicious.  The Pig was smothered in their mouth-flooding BBQ sauce, tenderized to an almost unfathomable state, and loaded onto a giant french roll.  But let's be honest, whenever I hear Firestone mentioned, an exclamation at the greatness of the tri-tip is never too far behind.  And I stand here to say GRUB-nation, exclaim away.  Because these thick, juicy, spice-rubbed strips of unworldly tri-tip are … simply put … a game changer.  And to top it all off (pun, somewhat intended) sits this bun that's more like an amazing piece of garlic bread than a bun.  And the best part?  Getting that extra side of BBQ sauce and dunking it like Joe DiMaggio at Dinky Donuts (ah, obscure Seinfeld references, what would my life be like without you?).

Match up these unbelievable BBQ delights with an order of their über batter onion rings and seasoned french fries, and you're going to start looking up graduate programs at Cal Poly.  And to that, we say thank you Mr. Firestone … for the pursuit of higher GRUB.

Firestone Grill
1001 Higuera St.
San Luis Obispo, CA
Google Maps

First born son … definitely going to be named GRUB.  First born daughter … okay, also going to be named GRUB.  But after this last grubbing session, I'm really going to have to consider the name Evita.  She's beautiful.  She smells good.  She comes with your choice of re-fried or whole beans … Pretty much everything you'd want in a woman. 

This little Mexican gem was a recommendation from our Good Grub buddy Emily L. from way back in the day … and I mean wayyyy back … like circa November 2009.  Yes, shameful that it took us that long to taste the magical nectar that is Evita's salsa, but also pretty damn impressive that we've been keeping this journey going for over two years.  Okay, okay … enough about us … let's get back to Evita's.

Like every spot we love to hit up, this place has got that hole-in-the-wall vibe written all over it.  As we sifted through the options up on the menu board, sent a text or two back to Emily for some guidance, we went her recommendation of the veggie for my veggie wife and for me ... I couldn't resist their 3-Way Burrito.  Can you say Grub Ménage à trois?  Going with the Carne Asada to accompany my refried beans and rice (rounding out the traditional three), opting for onions and cilantro, and getting them to throw in thwap of guac … this giant bomb of a burrito was quite literally busting from the seams.  From the tortilla down to the medley of fillings, everything had that authentic, street-style Mexican deliciousness going on.  None of this Taco Bell nacho cheese nonsense … this is the way my grandma would make it when I was little … if my grandma were Mexican.

But stopping at the burrito would do Evita a grave injustice.  Because what good is a burrito if you can't lather it up in salsa.  So after you place your order, and turn the corner into the dinning area, be careful as you come face to face with the salsa bar of all salsa bars.  First off … they've got a pretty solid variety of selections.  Second off … each one comes with it's very own Oxnard Salsa Festival plaque.  And after we loaded up cup after cup, dunked our chips, and smothered our burritos, I can safely say the Oxnard Salsa Festival isn't giving these out too easily.  It's not like your 2nd grade soccer team where you won the "cleanest uniform" award.

And with that, we thank you Ms. Evita.  Keep dancing the salsa, keep whipping up gut busting burritos, and keep feeding us the GRUB!

Evita's Mexican Cafe
3868 E. Main Street
Ventura, CA
Google Maps

Dino's Pizza … the greatest thing to come into my life since … well … anything.  Seriously, what's better than pizza?  More importantly what's better than Dino's Pizza?  For our second GRUB-fest with Dino, what was the common denominator you ask? … Mouth-watering, tastebud-titillating, soul-satisfying Pizza. 

Both times we ordered our pies for carry out.  No, it wasn't because we didn't like the physical location (it's actually got this pretty sweet pizza parlor feel) but because both GRUBBING sessions took place at our buddy Stefan's speakeasy known as the Orchard Street Brewing Company (Okay, it's actually just his house where he's got some serious home-brews on tap … and who are we to leave a house of free, award winning OSBC beer?). 

Looking over Dino's menu is a test of strength and resolve.  Take a peak and do your best not to order everything.  From the "Cordova" with spinach, fresh italian sausage, tomatoes and Maytag blue cheese to the "Pizza Pastrami" with pastrami, pickles, and deli mustard on a thin, sauceless crust … they've got all kinds of crazy concoctions, Italian staples, and everything in between.  We took our time, weighed our options, and went for two different pies.  The first … the "Seven Layer Pizza" with pepper jack, red onions, olives, tomatoes, jalapeños and cilantro.  The second … the "Lasagna Pizza" with local italian sausage, meatballs, tomatoes, parmesan cheese and giant "the-greatest-thing-in-the-world" globs of ricotta cheese.

Take a look at the pictures below, and do your best not to lick the screen.  Each pizza had that perfectly crisp crust and the aforementioned medley of toppings that were not just unique … but marvelous.  I don't even like ricotta cheese all that much, but the combination with the Italian meats and the crunchy crust, made the experience simply life changing.  No joke, my mouth is watering like crazy as I write up this post.  It's the ultimate Pavlovian response, and the true litmus test of GRUB.  And the "Seven Layer Pizza" … I just know that the next seven layer dip somebody brings to a potluck is going to severely disappoint. 

Any way you slice it (pun … intended), Dino's is one of a kind deliciousness.  Screw Chuck E. Cheese's … my boy's eating nothing but Dino's.  Because who needs a ball pit or a singing mouse, when you've got GRUB.

Okay, so I know "jumbo" shrimp is an oxymoron.  But what do you call a "holy-moley-that-shrimp-is-freaking-huge" … shrimp? Let's just settle with the "Fisherman's Outlet" shrimp …  because on this week's journey through the enchanted forest of GRUB, we loaded up our fishing nets, met up with our GRUB-buddy Teresa C. and gone fishing at The Fisherman's Outlet in downtown LA.  But before I lose you on the seafood potential of a shop located smack dab in the middle of an industrial part of downtown, right up against the concrete LA river (where might I add, the fishies must be biting pretty good) … just trust me, THIS PLACE IS FREAKING AMAZING! 

We got a little lost on our way down there, so follow these simple directions.  Step 1) Look it up on Google Maps (seriously, you're just getting lazy if you want me to give you all the details).  Step 2) Head down Central Ave. in downtown LA until you hit this out-of-place, row of seafood eateries and wholesale markets in the aforementioned industrial setting.  Step 3) I can't say this with 100% certainty, but avoid every place that doesn't have fifty people in line on a Saturday at 2PM.  Follow our easy three step method and you'll be chowing down on some of the best seafood you've ever had … or your money back (offer not valid in any of the contiguous 50 states. And if you can find this place in Alaska … the money is all yours). 

But seriously people, this place is legit.  We went with the suggestion of Teresa and grabbed a plate of the charbroiled giant shrimp.  But like we hinted to above, giant is an understatement.  Andre is giant.  The BFG is giant.  These are not just giant … they are HUMONGO.  The plate also comes with a heaping helping of french fries, cole slaw, a side of cocktail and hot sauce, and the real pièce-de-résistance … a cup of warm, melt-away-all-your-problems, Fisherman Outlet's very own … garlic butter. 

And as I pulled apart these giant gems from the ocean, squeezed on a little lemon juice, cut off a huge hunk and dunked it in my own combination of hot sauce and garlic butter … I couldn't help from letting out a few verses from Little Mermaid's "Under The Sea."  We got ourselves an order of ceviche and chips to start off this tastebud tango … but really it was the shrimp (aka mini-lobster) that really sent our head spinning.

So as it nears lunch time again, I am viciously fighting the urge to head back for round two.  I mean, it would be great … but there's so much GRUB that needs GRUBBING.  So until next time, go grab your harpoon  and head out on the hunt for the great white shrimp down at the Fisherman's Outlet.  It's way better than discounted Coach purses or OshKosh B'gosh overalls, because at this outlet they're selling GRUB!

You say "Po-tay-to" … I say "Pot-Awe-to."   You say "Boise Fry. Co." … I say, "Sweet sassy molassy … I'm there!"  We took our journey to the land of the Smurf-Turf in the hunt of some of Idaho's finest … the beloved, the sacred, the soon-to-be-deep-friend wonder that is the potato.  So when I heard about a place called Boise Fry Co. … how could I not dip in for a bite?  I started off like the little kid testing the waters with his pinky toe … but after about 12 second of gazing up at their amazing board-o-fries, you had to hold me back from going straight for the belly flop. 

Boise Fry Co. (or "BFC" as they're known by … well  … um, probably just me) has this amazing matrix of french fry choices to bring an indecisive man to his knees.  Do I go with Homestyle-cut Sweet, Regular-cut Purple … or just get saucy with it and take a stab for the Russet Potato "Po Balls."  I know … I know … We should have gone for the Po Balls.  But unlike our one-part crazy, one-part smashed drunk, one-part "SHE'S A NICE LADY!" elderly friend named Joyce-Ann that we met at a bar the night before … we don't get many options to go grubbing in Boise.  So we stayed with the west-coast conservative offense … I went for the Purple and our Mississippian Grub-mate Tonie P. went for the Gold. 

Before I go on, I have to ask … Is "Scrum-didily-umptious" a word?  It is?  Okay good … because that's the only way to describe these little bowls of happiness.  Straight colorful, crunchy, salty goodness in a metal bowl waiting for you to a) Powder them with your choice of seasonings and b) Dunk them in a ridiculous number of sauces.  So we took these bad boys, sprinkled on some garlic salt and cajun spices and loaded up tiny cups of garlic mayo, curry ketchup, honey mustard … and the real exotic one of the bunch … a blueberry ketchup.  Everything was awesome.  I mean … seriously?  How could it not be?  I's a french fry shop in the home of potatoes. 

We matched them up (and yes, the french fries are the main course at the Fry Co.) with a couple of burgers that were just that perfect juicy, meaty companion to the fries.  Now don't get me wrong, the burgers were good … but they were definitely the sidekick to the potato-monsters.  The Robin to the Batman, the Scotty Pippin to the Michael Jordan … the  Chewbacca to … trick question, Chewbacca is a sidekick to no man! 

My only regret was reviewing the photos of the board-o-fries when I got home and saw the "Bourgeois" … a batch fried up in duck fat and topped with truffle salt … oh Mr. BFC I will be back … oh yes, I will be back.  Until then, enjoy joy-riding around downtown Boise with Joyce-Ann in her Grandson's sweet Kia Metro (Everyone gets inside jokes right?).  So, thanks for the GRUB-hospitality … normal colored french fries will never be the same.

Boise Fry Co.
111 Broadway Ave.
Boise, ID
Google Maps

Was I the only one who always thought "being in the dog house" was a bad thing?  Seriously … I would have engaged in a lot more mischievous hijinks as a kid if I had known that my only potential punishment was a mouth-watering, juicy sausage, smothered in grilled onions and jalapeno peppers, layered up with dijon mustard and curry ketchup, and placed gently on a crispy, sweet french roll.  So for this week's grubbing session we knocked over a few mailboxes and spray-painted the cat blue … and landed ourselves in Pasadena's Dog Haus. 

The place has a cool, open, classed-up vibe with long wood tables, a cart loaded up with hot dog fixins, and a giant menu board tempting you with a cornucopia of devilishly creative hot dog and sausage concoctions.  Our grub mate H. Dawg, went for the Sooo Cali topped with mixed greens, diced tomatoes, crispy tempura fried onion strips, a spicy basil aioli, and avocado all loaded into a few soft squares of King's Hawaiian bread.  If you've never had the super-soft Hawaiian delight … or never had a hot dog on it for that matter … you've never really lived. 

Ourselves, we battled back and forth … resisting the desire to dive into one of their out-of-control (in a good way) hot dogs that are loaded up with toppings such as thick (and we mean thick … like "measure it with a ruler" thick) sliced bacon, eggs, and tatter tots ... or another with chili-con-carne and a sprinkle of Fritos chips.  Eventually we landed on one of the house specials … the "Best of the Wurst" … we went with the bratwurst and loaded up the aforementioned grilled onions and jalapeno peppers.  Everything was taste-tastic … from the flavor packed brat to the soaking-up-the-juices, just a-little-bit-of-sweetness and a-little-bit-of-crunch french roll. 

To match up with our dogs, we went with an order of their super sized onion rings and the side dish of every 11 year old's dreams … tater tots.  Now I know why Napoleon saved 'em up in his cargos pockets and was hesitant to give them away.  These crispy, salty, cylindrical morsels of grub-delight are a magical accompaniment to any meal … a perfect device to dunk into that craving-inducing curry ketchup (seriously … if they don't have it out on the fixins cart … ask for it) and pop into your soon-to-be-dancing mouth. 

Of course we also added a bottle of Mexican Coke to our order.  Some say the deliciousness comes from the real sugar instead of corn syrup … others firmly believe it's the glass bottle that makes it so damn good.  But deep down we all know the real reason … unicorn powder.  Whatever it is, we just love the stuff … especially when you're matching it up with the gut-busting, mind-blowing, heaven-on-a-bun coming out of the Dog Haus.  Each bite I felt myself channeling my inner Sean Connery and holding back the desire to shout out "You're the man now dog!"  But it's true … and honestly Dog Haus, that's really the only way to describe it.  You are … simply … the man.