Manti5 Toboggan
Bojo's School of the Trades
6
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Posted - 2013.04.10 07:47:00 -
[1] - Quote
So you and three friends wake up from a night of binging something you donGÇÖt remember and youGÇÖre all famished for something greasy and fatty to shake the cobwebs from the trainwrecks that are your hungover brains.
GÇ£So, whatGÇÖll it be, DennyGÇÖs or IHOP?GÇ¥
GÇ£Eh, itGÇÖs all the same to meGǪGÇ¥
GÇ£OK, whatever, letGÇÖs goGǪGÇ¥
Now, hereGÇÖs a little known fact about acute alcohol intoxication: you begin having vivid, almost eidetic memories about the flavors and tastes of delicious, delicious breakfast meats, which usually occurs around 20 hours or so after the cessation of ingestion of alcoholic beverages. As you and your friends speed along towards your objective, and without stating the obvious, you begin debating the various merits of each meaty treat, although in the back of your mind youGÇÖre worried about whatGÇÖs probably going to happen when you get to your objectiveGǪ
First off, thereGÇÖs sausage. Usually of the link variety, where it stands out and looks pretty unremarkable, it can be found in patty form as well, although the latter is more uncommon (and arguably tastier due to the effect of browning on a larger surface area).
Slightly related to sausage is lingui+ºa. Unlike the traditional sage and marjoram seasonings present in most bland commercial breakfast sausages, lingui+ºa is powered by an in-your-face blast of spicy garlic and paprika.
One step away from lingui+ºa lands you in chorizo territory. Very uncommon, but one bite and itGÇÖs almost like someone stabbed you in the tongue with pure unadulterated flavor, with its unrelenting drive of red chiles and cumin coming at ya from both sides. But enough about sausagesGǪ
A hamburger patty used to be a pretty standard thing in a breakfast. Even today, when properly chargrilled and cooked to bloody perfection, thereGÇÖs nothing quite like a burger patty and fluffy scrambled eggs. ItGÇÖs almost like a pinpoint shot straight to your satiety factor.
Now, ham, canGÇÖt forget ham. This compact meat packs slightly sweet, slightly salty and slightly smoky flavors together in a rapid flurry of porcine pleasure. But for some reason it always plays second fiddle to some other, bolder meat.
Then thereGÇÖs SPAMGäó. Yes, when itGÇÖs fresh out of a can, this pale monstrosity of a meat product takes on an otherworldly shine as the gelatin on its surface glistens in the light. But when itGÇÖs been sliced up thin and fried to an almost burnt crisp, and you savor the various species in your palate, youGÇÖll probably think it almost tastes just likeGǪ a crispy, salty, nitrate-filled, chunk of savory, delicious Frankenmeat.
When youGÇÖve got that heavy appetite, thereGÇÖs nothing quite like a gnarly, giant steak. Bold and direct, steak charges in head-first with one mission and one mission only: to sweep every last corner of your guts with a relentless barrage of beefy protein.
A beautifully marbled chop of pork is an equally heavy variety of an appetite-slayer. Now, some may argue beef is better, but pork is one of those meats that just forges in out of nowhere and explodes flavor all over the place. Trust me, once youGÇÖve had a fatty thick-cut piece of an applewood smoked pork chop, youGÇÖll know exactly what IGÇÖm talking about.
Chicken fried steak is one of thoseGǪ thingsGǪ well, think about it. At first glance, especially to the uninitiated, it looks a mess of a mass: itGÇÖs fried to ****, itGÇÖs smothered with chunky gravy, and itGÇÖs greasy as all hell. But it does one killer job driving through a hangover like an exploding comet that just tore through the atmosphere, raining down destruction on your headache.
Unbeknownst to some, the humble corned beef hash has been lurking in the shadows of diner menus in recent decades. However, to those experienced enough to hear the gentle rumble of their stomachs approaching from the distance, backing up to a solid, corned beef hash definitely drive the hunger away.
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You arrive at your objective in one piece and walk in. Immediately, seemingly out of nowhere and everywhere at once, you are assaulted by a barrage of delectable breakfast scents. As your eyes trail across the diner, you begin noticing one constant among the golden, flaky waffles and the stacks of fluffy pancakes...
Those unmistakable streaksGǪ as if greased lightning were made out of umamiGǪ
That unmistakable smellGǪ which by now has all but invaded your very soul, overpowering the other, lesser odors that futilely attempt to penetrate your nasal passages...
GǪliterally everyone, old and young, skinny and fat, educated and illiterate, rich and poor alikeGǪ
You urgently attempt to resist; your body spasms in defiance as you acquiesce to its siren song. Yet, as youGÇÖre in the process of succumbing, you begin feeling a strange sensation in the pit of your stomach. You realize everyone in the restaurant, some of them merely moments before you and your friends arrived, had just went through the same ordeal. Like mindless zombies, they savage their plates with a ravenous, half-awake gaze.
The simple fact that itGÇÖs everywhere only confirms in your mind that what you so desperately believed not to be true was, in fact, true...
tl;dr: bacon
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