By Kitty and Greg
The Gullet was born out of two friends who simply love dinner—and based on the stories we’ve been cranking out since January, breakfast, lunch and everything in between, too. This started as a Google Spreadsheet, where we would both log the best and worst things we’d eaten that week for each other to read. A grim encounter with a microwave mug cake. A shameful indulgence devoured in the driver's seat. It was a fun way to participate in our long distance friendship, an opportunity to make the other laugh. Once we decided to put some of our entries on Substack, the project quickly morphed into something different; a space where we romanticize gorgeous meals, invite guests to dish and lay our feelings out on the table (for an audience).
Much of the food we’ve consumed in the name of “research” has lived up to the hype, but not every dining experience can be five-star. It’s almost as if Lady Delish recognizes when we need to be kicked back down under the compost bin. To appreciate the highs, you’ve got to taste the lows…and taste them we did. Here’s a peek into our ongoing complaint log.
NY Crapperie by Greg
The day I feared had come. I finally met a breakfast sandwich I didn’t like. I think it may be the worst breakfast sandwich I’ve ever had. A 4:30 AM trip to LaGuardia airport’s Southwest terminal had surprisingly few breakfast options. In fact, most places were already serving lunch. The Dunkin’ and Starbucks lines were snaking through the atrium, so New York Creperie appeared to be the best option. The no-wait should have deterred me, but gotta get to that gate! Let's just say, if hell served breakfast the bacon, egg and cheese I ordered would be the only thing on the menu.
The bagel: effectively a discarded soggy sponge, fished out from behind crumb-ridden appliances.
The bacon: instantly extracted from the sandwich on account of being indistinguishable from two large petrified wood chips.
The cheese: a poisonous product born in a lab. It tasted like it was exacting sweet revenge on real cheese.
The egg “patty” had the look and texture of a proud preschooler's Play-Doh creation.
The amount of time spent trying to chew down the first bite was all the information I needed to reroute this poor egg and cheese to the bin. I started to laugh as I observed my fellow traveler, Justin, slowly chewing in an attempt to break down his scorched sandwich. We knew it was time and crumpled up the remaints of our breakfast in their wrappers and shitcanned them. I felt guilty throwing it away but felt solace knowing I was saving the plane a bathroom blowout. RIP BEC, we hardly knew thee.
Forensic Files by Kitty
On the way over to my studio for a candle pour this week, I needed both gas for the car and fuel for the body. I was being lazy, so I drove out of the way to a new full-service station in Smithfield that has a drive-through with a local coffee chain attached. I had originally written this place off due to an shockingly brown avocado toast, but I gave them a second, (third, and fourth) chance out of, well…desperation. The few other times I'd gone, I ordered bacon, egg, and cheese bagels mostly due to them being generous in size. I thought, okay, I misjudged, keep shopping small. I drove on up and ordered a BEC on an everything bagel. It was served with a smile, and I looked forward to eating it before getting elbow deep in wax. I peeled back the parchment paper to discover that they had given me TWO BOTTOMS?! I wondered if whoever drove off with two tops bought a lottery ticket to test the limits of their lucky day. I took a bite and although I was missing the chew and extra poppy seeds of an everything bagel top, it was fine. That was until I peeled the wrapper all the way back to find that the last portion of the sandwich had third-degree burns. Charred beyond recognition. Now I can firmly say that they clocked that brown avocado and didn't give a fuck—case closed.
Unholy Guacamole by Greg
This week, something wicked entered me: a dark desire for grocery store guacamole. I don’t know how it happened, only that I was pushing my cart one minute and had guac in hand the next. In one sitting, I demolished the first specimen (Sabra classic) and thought…is that all there is? I was profoundly unsatisfied, but what was I expecting from a product that had to inform me that it was made from “real avocados”? And just like that, I found myself two days later at Key Foods throwing yet another container of green slop into my bag. This time it was Wholly Guacamole, and it was wholly disappointing. Both brands of guac were light on flavor and heavy on texture: wet and fucking pasty at the same time. Did I polish off both tubs by myself? You bet. Dunkin’ Disorder struck yet again. The only saving grace in each sinful session was my stash of Mi Niña Japelpeño Agave corn chips aka Lady Delish's foot soldiers. I’m praying that the demon that keeps whispering, “Third guac’s the charm” into my heart is exorcised before my next trip down the refrigerated aisle.
Caving to CAVA by Kitty
Have you ever been to a CAVA? It's basically Chipotle covered in feta and tzatziki. Here, a staff comprised mostly of teens serve up "Mediterranean" style bowls and pitas, and the best part is, they don't skimp on the "wet" ingredients. You want sauce? Pick three! Dressing on top? A drizzle, OR a dollop! I had really been leaning in lately, as it felt like the healthier option when time was short, hunger was raging, and groceries were nil. My go-to order is a bowl with half brown rice, half arugula, topped with spicy chicken, feta, tzatziki, cukes, tomatoes, corn, and broccoli. Hit it with a little Greek vinaigrette, and we're good to go. I ordered this exact meal a few days ago on the way home from a candle pour. I dug in and the first few bites were familiar...but then, I chomped down on something rock hard. Perhaps a piece of burnt chicken or a kernel of corn. I thought it was a one-time thing, but it...just...kept...happening? I quickly realized that at least half of the rice was either not cooked at all or cooked so much that it was now tough enough to splinter my teeth. I'll be damned if I'm getting crowns after eating CAVA. I was pissed at first, but then wondered, how could I blame high schoolers for not giving a shit about cooking rice correctly? I should have saved the grains to carve my name in and put on a necklace. Next time.
A Pitiful Pasta Salad by Kitty
Another day, another internal monologue on what the hell I'm going to eat for lunch. Struggling with what may have been decision fatigue, I opened DoorDash around noon and placed a reorder of a sandwich that I had praised mere weeks ago from Geoff's Superlative Sandwiches. I saw that they offered macaroni salad as an add-on and thought, why not? It arrived just as I had imagined in that little plastic dixie cup with a lid. Just a nibble. When I raised the cup to pop off the cover I was surprised by the way the elbows sloshed around. I tried my best to drain the excess liquid from my fork as I picked up a couple pieces of pasta and a chunk of diced red pepper. Marinating in a pool of milky juices, the noodles had begun to soften and bloat. While I expected the familiar tang of a picnic style pasta salad, I was met with the texture and taste of melted vanilla ice cream. One bite was more than enough.
A special thank you to this week’s illustrator, Chira Xie1. See more of her work here.
Chiara Xie is an Ottawa-based illustrator and motion designer specializing in lifestyle, wellness, and technology-related artwork. Her dynamic and colorful creations have been featured in publications such as The Washington Post, Runner’s World, and BBC Science Focus.
Okay don't get me wrong, I *love* reading your essays that romanticize gorgeous meals. But hear me loud and clear when I say that I *also* *LOVE* reading about the slop bucket. More More more!
I so look forward to reading about someone's recent or time-honored favorite bites here on The Gullet, but WOW are some of the most memorable foods the worst ones!!