Who's on Fifth?

My family travels a bit without me sometimes, because I'm in school, work, or otherwise can't be bothered to pack into a SUV with my parents and two younger siblings and they on occasion come back with tales of how I should have gone because relative X was so cute, or museum Y was so cool. During their most recent romp to Washington, D.C. they discovered a restaurant that "has the best burgers ever, omg." That's a hard sell to me, being someone who kind of enjoys beef. Then the chain opened up in Swampscott, a neighboring town in Salem, not too far over the border in a place I frequent for restaurants anyway, so I decided to check it out opening week.

Five Guys started in Arlington, Virginia in 1986, which gives it some staying power, at least. However, this did not sell it for me. When I got there, it was packed. Like, stupid packed. This may be because President Obama said something about how they're more or less awesome, or because it's been opening week. The line moved pretty fast, though.

Ordered the food, and then waited. The wait wasn't too long, and was accompanied by complimentary peanuts, which are kind of a bad munchy food--so much refuse for so little edibility. Anyway, then the order was up. And I'm happy to say that mine was the only burger of the party that actually was what I ordered. Everyone else got something completely different from what they had asked for. That kind of put of a buzz kill on the whole experience, as my friends and family were forced to go get their food fixed while I dined on my burger. Which was not "omg, best burger ever"--not even close. It was average. Better than any fast food joint, to be sure, but not worth all the hype.

I think working there would suck pretty hard, too. There were so many people behind the counter, preparing burgers, fries, hot dogs, and everything else, I actually saw a girl getting her eye bandaged for some injury I'm not even sure what it was, but I felt bad nonetheless. Behind the counter at a fast food joint should not be that busy, and I hope the girl gets a lot of money for an eye injury. I'm sure most of the people who I saw working won't be there past the month because they were mostly there to feed the huge crowds, but once they novelty of the new place dies down, they won't need so many people anymore.

In closing, this isn't a restaurant I will be frequenting, nor do I think I will ever really go there again. But why would you listen to me? Obama said it was good.

Your loyal Democrat:
-Evan "Dez" O'Connor

The Two Possible Ends of the World

I spent the day in Boston with my girlfriend yesterday. Apart from being goddamn exhausted from the train-switches from Revere to Harvard, walking around Harvard, walking to Newbury Street, walking to Downtown Crossing, going back to Harvard for dinner, and then making the subway trek back to Revere before driving my ass back to Salem, it was an entirely fantastical afternoon/evening. The evening, as mentioned, ended with dinner at a place that presumably stole their name from one of my favorite Robert Frost poems.

Fire and Ice is an "improvisational grill." This terminology worried me. Food should not be improv'd, unless you're lost in the woods or are really intoxicated and it's still only really acceptable if you're lost in the woods. But I was hungry, tired, and willing to try something new. A lot of my friends go there, but they tend to mention how it's a great place to go and drink yourself stupid, so I was never aware of the oddity of its serving practices.

The way things are done is you get a bowl and go through this buffet line. There are vegetables, meats, and all the fixin's for what you could want with it--and its all raw. The meat ranges from top sirloin to shark, pulled pork to bacon. There's cilantro, baby corn, carrots, potatoes, and salad pieces. Then, after strolling through the raw buffet, you pick your sauce, which is anything from spicy bourbon and barbecue and teriyaki to sweet and sour, thai, honey mustard. You get a little container of the sauce you want, or mix them if you're interested, and bring them to the giant grill top in the center of the restaurant. They cook all the food together, then add the sauce at the appropriate time, and then give it back to you and you eat it.

Now, there are flaws with the system, that since it is a buffet, all sorts of people are walking through the line of meats and picking some up, putting some back, and the idea of that sounds kind of gross. But the place itself was really atmospheric the food was really, really good. The red potato, top sirloin, pulled pork, and baby corn with a bit of bourbon sauce mixed with BBQ was near enough to the highlight of the entire day. And it's all-you-can-eat, so you can go up and fill another bowl of ingredients before paying the monstrous bill and leaving.

Ah, yes, the bill. This whole adventure costs $16.95 per person, plus the cost of a drink if you want one. I had gotten a Fire & Ice Tea, having wanted to drink from those Long Island lemons, and to be honest, it wasn't a very good Long Island Iced Tea. If I ever go back (which I would love to do, because the food really was awesome), I would do so on the college nights where for college students with a valid ID, the price is only $11.95. The full price meal, as good and interesting as the whole thing is, barely feels worth the near $20 price, because despite being all-you-can-eat, the bowls don't hold a lot of food, and it's all relatively filling food so you won't be going up more than two--maybe three times--if you're super hungry.

These places are popping up everywhere, it seems. The first one is in Cambridge (where I went), then some in Rhode Island, New York, Alabama, another one in Boston, California, and another one is on its way to Cali. If you find yourself near one and have a ton of money, I would seriously suggest taking the chance.

-Evan "Dez" O'Connor