Give me your truck food, your artisanal sodas—I’ll blow my paycheck on them.
You can fancy it up further with those herbs that you bought a bunch of for that one recipe and left in your fridge to silently judge you every time you open the door.
Really good bourbon whisky, for when the situation calls for it. Really good dark chocolate, preferably with sea salt, for the same reason.
“In my first two years of the food cart, people said that I’d reached the American dream. But I didn’t know what that was so I Googled it.”
The thing about wanting to buy ice cream and then not buying ice cream is that you eventually forget that you ever wanted it.
Fast food joints have made condiments harder to get ahold of. You can’t grab them off the table anymore; you have to ask the staff for the taste-enhancers that should be your right as a consumer.
My general travel philosophy, honed after years of dragging my guitar from convention to convention, is that you get one “real meal” per day, “real” being defined as “a hot meal with more than one food item included, maybe even served on a non-disposable plate.”
At least according to Yelp, the best food in America is, generally, Food You Can Afford. And a lot of it can be found on or near the west coast.
The first and last item in a category on the menu sell the best.