Look at this thing, just silently sitting there, waiting to be eaten:

This is a sticky bun from Flour Bakery, from Boston’s South End. It was amazing. Transcendent. 10+. Out of this world. The bun was sticky, but the glaze wasn’t too sweet. You could actually taste the egg in the dough and that made it better. It was very light and very, very good.

I also love meringues, a lot, so I had to try one:

I am really picky about my meringues. They are one of my favorite foods, and this one was OK. It was a little too crumbly and not sweet enough.

And I hope my audience notices that the half eaten food has disappeared from here, per the request of a small, but important part of my viewing audience. You win. No more half eaten food.

Man I want a sticky bun now.

Airline fuud. Never that good. The hunger, hits you hard on the plane and makes you want to eat almost anything. Even, uh, this thing:

This sandwich will receive the first zero I have ever awarded in my illustrious food reviewing career. OK, I subtracted three points (would have gotten a three otherwise) for the fiendish stealing of my bag. So, yeah, that sandwich. It looks better in the photo than it did in real life. That’s never happened here before. It was totally flavorless and didn’t even have mustard on it. Zero. Big fat zero, Lufthansa.

On the other hand, LTU did a bit better:

Looks like a 1950’s TV dinner. Wasn’t too bad though.

There was cheese:

It wasn’t bad. There was salad too:

It too wasn’t bad. The main dish:

I was hungry, so it probably improved the flavor, but I still give this whole thing a 7, which isn’t a high score, but its airline fuud, I mean food, so I have to again randomly change how I judge things. Oh Nigel, you look so sexy today!

Returns! Yes, after a long absence, my food/restaurant reviews make a triumphant return. We also get a triple whammy with this one. Two reviews of the traveling variety and one of the regular variety.

First, of the regular variety. Ah, Five Guys:

This is their small fries. No, just kidding. This is their large fries. My favorite Five Guys, perhaps the best burger on the planet. Perhaps and now opened right next door to this Japanese soup place I went to with my parents for years. As my regular reading public knows because they memorize this blog and all, I am a fan of the Five Guys from the days of Washington and misery and am ecstatic that they have now opened an outpost in New York. I went to one of their places in Brooklyn and was underwhelmed, but this one was very good. I got my usual:

Cheeseburger, pickles, relish, mayonnaise and raw onion. Well, I kinda liked it:

Ok, the next shot should be of the hamburger gone, but it isn’t there. I am getting hungry for the burger just writing about it now, so it obviously get a 10+ for quality. Oh and the fries were pretty good too. My buddy who had this food fest with introduced me to the vinegar-fries combination I had shunned so much before and it turns out I do really like it. Who knew?

Moving right along. Airline food. I can say I have an advanced knowledge of the world of airline food, after the last year. I’ve seen the good, bad and in between of this world. SAS scored high, Northwest Airlines scored low on my scale. I’m sorry to say, but the European airlines came out well again in my survey. Case in point: Air France. Take a looky-loo at the food:

Close ups of the food:

Overall, I give it an 8. The ravioli was quite good for something you get on a plane, as was the salad, which was a curry couscous with shrimp. I saw seafood and thought it was going to be kind of gross, but it turned out to be pretty good. Sure was better than the Continental Airlines slop I had on the way over. YUK. There was one part of the meal I didn’t understand:

It was listed at “cake-cookie” on the dining card. I took one bite and decided it was enough, but it didn’t ruin generally good food, for a plane.

And finally, I spent 2 1/2 hours in Paris and had something typically French:

I know, half eaten, but that is just a sign I had eaten enough to decide it would be a good thing to add to the blog. Damn that was a good croissant. Delicious and I got it using my non-existent French skills. Weird. I was tired as hell and somehow wasn’t overly shy to use my small amount of French to order this thing. Man, it was good. Oh and Orangina, which I had to get because I was in France. I couldn’t help it. 10+ for the croissant too. Croissant means “to grow” in French. There’s a fun fact. Note of advice to blog readers — the next time you are in Charles De Gaulle airport, get a croissant. Good. Quite good.

Dear Oyster Bar,

I was ready to be underwhelmed by you. I am a great eater and snob about lobster rolls. To me, the perfect lobster roll is one eaten outside in Maine or Cape Cod from a lobster taken out of the water and cooked the hour before. Not to mention, it costs about $8.

When I forked over $29 for a lobster roll in your restaurant, I was totally ready to say “yeah, but the ones on the Cape are better. I spent the money, but the original is always the best.”

Imagine my surprise when my $29 lobster roll appeared today:

And it was delicious. A 9.5 out of 10, despite a few small pieces of shell. That’s ok. I only give the 10 to the eaten outside, mid-summer variety, but this was also quite good.

Sincerely,
Someone who didn’t mind spending $30 on this following small amount of food.

Ok, so here’s the rest of my usual review, complete with half eaten food:

No hesitation here. Yeah, the pictures suck because I was afraid someone was going to tell me to stop taking the pictures. I wasn’t thinking “these have to be good,” more like “take this quick, because someone is going to tell you to stop.”

Actually, I think the pictures may have been a good thing, because they thought I was a food critic or something. What kind of freak photographs their food, especially when it is half eaten? Wait, um, never mind.

And the best part of the meal:

But money well spent.

Back by popular demand and by that I mean, one person told me that they like this feature and that makes it “popular demand.”

So, whenever I get writers block and that is relatively often, I go down to the German deli in the building and get some kind of treat. I must be the only person in the place that buys these chocolates because whenever I got there to buy two, they tell me I can have six for the same price. And, I always get the six and its always the same justification in my mind. I’ll eat these all week.

An hour later, all of them are gone. Why?

Well, first an introduction:

Who is the handsome man on the wrapper? Its Mozart. The ‘nets doesn’t have much information about what he has to do with the chocolate, other than to say that some chocolate maker in Austria in the 1890s decided to put his face and name on a chocolate.

Here it is in all of its glory:

And, here’s the best part:

The marzipani-chocolaty goodness.

There is no middle shot. No hesitation on my part on finishing these things. The burger in the previous entry disappeared in stages? This thing appears and disappears. I give it a 9.9. I’m not using the 10 yet, but this is pretty close to perfect.

I love marzipan and combine it with dark chocolate, you have magic. My parents insist on keeping these bars of dark chocolate around all the time as some kind of “treat.” Not for me. When I want chocolate, I don’t want it to taste like medicine. It doesn’t have to be milk chocolate, which can be god awful if its in some kind of candy bar or something. But when I have dark chocolate, I want it to have some kind marzipan or something in there.

I’d usually say “hey, fellow frequenters of the German deli, you don’t know what you are missing,” but I am not going to say that. I am going to say — hey, people. Don’t buy the Mozart chocolates. More for me!