Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Penn Station

Fenton, Mo.


Angel has been wanting to go to Penn Station for quite a while. She’d heard good things about it from more than one person, Adam was enthusiastic, I was indifferent, it’s a sandwich place.

The Place:

Penn Station originated in Cincinnati (that’s in Ohio) back in the mid 80’s and has grown to over two hundred locations, mostly in the Midwest. Penn Station grew on the strength of its Philly-style cheese steak sandwich.

Metro St. Louis is as far west as you’ll find one (sorry, Springfield!), and there are none south of Tennessee/South Carolina. Those of you in Maryland (shout out!) will have to go to Richmond, VA. Those of you in Kentucky (shout out!) can find them in Paducah, Louisville or Owensboro, to name a few.

I went online to check the menu, yeah, a sandwich place, with one noticeable exception, fries. Subway doesn’t sell fries they just sell chips. This was a plus in the Penn Station column already. While I was online I also downloaded and printed a buy-one-get-one-free coupon.

Fenton is about twenty five minutes up the road toward STL. I pass it every working day, so the drive was boring. Penn was located in a strip mall, not the big one on the hill, another one in the valley. It sat alongside a Mexican place, a closed Italian place, and a high-end deli/coffee shop/wine shop. There were no customers inside, just a couple of workers were wiping things down, they welcomed us eagerly as we walked in and stepped up to the overhead menu.

I’d noticed on the online menu a few named sandwiches, a club, an Italian, several with chicken, I stopped looking at ‘Philly Cheese steak’. Angel ordered for us as she’s the least shy, and we grabbed our cups and ran toward the drink bar. It was as if the sun was rising above and for the tea decanter. I thought I heard Angels sing (Not ‘Angel singing’, that would be awful, I’m referring to the Herald Angels, the ones that ‘Hark’ every Christmas.)

It was a beautiful sight to behold, there before my innocent, handsome eyes were two thermal decanters of tea. Not just any tea, but sure enough, real Luzianne tea. A sandwich place with fries and Luzianne tea? Awesome! If it was still fresh. I plopped a couple of ice cubes into my medium sized paper cup, then let the clear brown liquid slither in. I dropped in a rather fresh looking lemon wedge and took a sip.

Awesome! Penn Station was already six thousand, forty-three points above every other sandwich shop on the planet.

We made our way to a small table and sat. It was tight, but not too much so. It would have been cumbersome if we were having something that required thrusting elbows, like steak, but for sandwiches, it was fine.

The décor was clean and upscale. Black and gray, faux gray marble tops, chrome, black and gray booths and small bar, a couple of tall bistro tables and chairs up front by the window. The dining area was lit mostly by ceiling mounted spotlights. The only artwork consisted of posters of Penn station meals. There were no TV’s blasting away mindless sports events, the background music was adult rock, safe, no screaming, completely generic and ignorable.

I worshipped the tea, it was perfect. Adam had chosen the ‘sweet’ version… I don’t know why. Angel had their ‘famous’ fresh-squoze lemonade. The food arrived less than five minutes from the time we ordered.

The Food:

I’d ordered the Philly Cheese, with medium fries. Adam had the Pizza sandwich, with medium fries, Angel the chicken Parmesan and small fries. The individual orders were served in baskets lined with paper, the sandwiches were open faced and still sizzling, the cheese bubbling. The bread was not as thick as Subway’s which I appreciated. It was also slightly toasted. Folded up, the sandwich was only about three inches thick and we’d each ordered the six inch-long versions. Eight, ten and twelve were available.

The fries were made on site, fresh to order from real potatoes, skin intact. Dirty fries, awesome. They were well cooked, brown and crispy, the way a frozen fry just can’t be.

The first bite of my steamy sandwich was thoroughly delightful. Cheesy, oniony, beefy. Not too much of anything, simple, and good. The fries were as good as they looked. Angel and Adam swapped bits with each other, I didn’t want to share. Angel had asked for pizza sauce on her Parm chicken, something she said she wouldn’t do the next time. The chicken had a taste of its own, the red sauce overpowering it unnecessarily. Adam graded his: “Tastes as much like a pizza as it can without actually being one.” Overall the family rated the food pretty high. That is, until I got about halfway through my sandwich and I just didn’t want anymore. It had started out great but over the course of time a layer of saltiness had built up on my taste buds. It wasn’t the fries, I had no problem finishing them, it was the beef. Angel said I was too sensitive to salt, and I pondered that.


Perhaps it’s true, maybe I am overly sensitive to salt. Growing up we were rather poor and couldn’t afford condiments. If we wanted something saltier we would simply drip sweat onto it. Pepper was a bit tougher. I usually add salt to nothing at home or when we eat out. I can’t recall the last time I’ve used a salt shaker at the table. I will use just a dash if I’m sautéing vegetables, but just a dash. So yeah, maybe I am a little sensitive to the mineral. So bear this in mind in all my reviews, if I complain about the saltiness, which I have frequently, it may well just be a gastronomical anomaly.


With the coupon the bill came to twenty-one dollars and change, without the coupon it would have been around twenty six. Not bad for a really good quality sandwich meal. The place was very clean and pretty quiet as no other customers came in while we were there. The staff (I only saw two) was friendly and attentive, stopping by to ask how everything was, and fresh-squoozing more lemonade for Angel. The little things made a huge impact. The lemonade, the fresh-made fries, the Luzianne tea, the not-too-thick bread, the crisp décor, and the quality of the sandwich ingredients were all exceptional, easily surpassing Subway, RolyPoly, and in my mind St. Louis Bread Company. The only drawback is that there isn’t one closer to the house. I can get Subway in Hillsboro, and STL Bread in Festus. Fenton for me, like Richmond or Paducah for you guys might be a little far to go just for a sandwich. But if you happen to already be there, we’d highly recommend it. It’s perhaps the best all-around sandwich chain I’ve come across.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010


With my sincerest possible apologies, I offer this week’s lackluster review. We had planned to go to a nice sit-down place and enjoy a leisurely meal. Instead we went to a drive-in and ate burgers in the car.

Often our schedule is dictated by affairs of the dogs. In this case it was Ace, a handsome, young, tall and narrow German Shepherd (GSD). Ace spent much of his life at the C.A.R.E facility in a kennel. We took him in on Wednesday night to get some good photos that we could post on petfinder.com. Angel also planned to spend some time with him to evaluate his behavior, which helps when placing dogs into new homes. Friday night we got a call, a couple form Rogersville, Mo. was ready, willing and able to adopt him. They already had one GSD, a small female, and had raised others. They seemed to understand the dogs and sounded competent and worthy. They made plans to pick him up late Saturday afternoon.

Rogersville is about 185 miles from our house so they couldn’t pin the time down very well. They suggested somewhere around six, or six thirty depending on traffic. That quashed our normal five-ish dining time, so we decided to dine later, after they picked up the dog.

They arrived about six-thirty and out plopped their female GSD. A rather small specimen, she stayed close, attached at the hip to her female owner. She presented all the indications of being very shy and non-socialized. This is not always a bad thing and it can get better over time. Angel did point out to the owners that it didn’t help to reinforce the timidity.

Ace was about twice the female’s size, and the small dog was frightened. Angel took them to the training facility and let them acquaint. Ace wanted to play with the pretty girl, she just wanted to dig a hole and crawl into it. I left them alone and went about my business. (doing nothing, just doing it elsewhere)

Angel came in about a half hour later and sighed, the deal was off. Ace just wanted to play, and in coaxing the shy little one he barked at her, which just made matters worse. She took it as aggression and would have nothing to do with the big, lumbering puppy. A mutual decision was made; the couple didn’t have the time (days/weeks) to put in getting the dogs over their confused signals, so they opted out.

It was about seven thirty before we finally climbed into the car to eat. By this time the idea of spending the next two hours in a restaurant wasn’t as appealing. So we went to Sonic. We could have just gone to Burger King, McDonalds (Satan’s place), Hardees or DQ, but no, we at least needed to go to a new place because of our obligation to you, the readers.

The Place:

Sonic is a drive-in, this one in Desoto next to Wal-Mart. Sonic originated in Shawnee, Oklahoma in the 50’s and didn’t really spread out much till the 70’s and 80’s. It is most recognizable for the stalls to park in and the service staff often on roller skates. They serve drive-in fare, burgers, dogs, fries, tots and limeades. If I’d been to one before it was probably the one on Division Street in Springfield, Mo, but that would have been twenty or so years ago. I don't recall ever pulling in, but I know I passed it a lot.

We pulled into a stall near the service entry so as to better survey the goings-on. Music played from cheap outdoor weather-proof speakers, a St. Louis radio station, a show called ‘Motown Saturday Night.’ I’m okay with Motown, though I don’t think I have any on either of my two entire CD’s of ‘lifetime favorites’. As it was it sort of blended in with the traffic noise coming from the highway above us.

The menu/speaker/credit card reader was large and colorful. A simple menu with no more than ten combinations, and a host of sides/alternates/drinks. We were pretty hungry at this point and not too picky.

Angel ordered through the intercom, the voice on the other end read it back perfectly. We sat in the car and I contemplated how the three of us were going to spread out the food/drinks without making a huge mess. It’s a sizable vehicle, a 2005 Chevy Trailblazer, Angel and I in the front, Adam in the back where the dogs normally go. With his seat up and the one beside of him down it looked like he was going to have better luck than we would. Angel suggested sitting outside at one of the several metal-on-metal tables, but there were some loud teenaged girls out there being loud and teenage-ery. So we sat in the SUV, windows down to enjoy the pleasant evening, the aromas wafting over us as only aromas can. The aroma after a while became a smell, then almost an odor. Angel put her finger on it, the combination of vehicle exhaust, sizzling animal fat and deep fryers was perfectly reminiscent of a county fair.

The wait wasn’t very long, a young thick man came out with two trays, balancing himself comfortably on his rollerblades.

The Food:

I opted for #5, a Bacon-Cheese ‘Toaster’ with tots and iced tea.

Adam had the #4, Crispy Chicken Sandwich (with no tomatoes), tots and sweet tea, no ice. (He had said that they put too much ice in their drinks)

Angel took the #2, the Super-Sonic Cheeseburger, tots and Diet Coke. I asked for a sharable order of onion rings as well, recalling that their ads were always going on about their onion rings.

We rattled, tore and folded the various paper bags, passed out the offerings, balanced our drinks precariously in places that weren’t designed for holding drinks. Angel’s was on the steering wheel, mine on the door handle where it was poised so at a moments’ inattentiveness it would dump itself onto my crotch.

My ‘toaster’ was tepid and somewhat limp. The bread, basically thick white bread advertised as ‘Texas toast’ was not right. It had been toasted, but apparently at the lowest possible setting, there were some yellow scorch marks but not many. It was not so crisp, it felt more like stale. It was also room temperature. It was as if they undercooked the toast then let it sit and wait for everything else to get done. It was also about twice the size of the beef patty so the first few bites were nothing but undercooked toast. Once the heart of the sandwich was reached the ketchup overpowered everything else. I opened it up and could find no bacon whatsoever. With this much ketchup though it is doubtful that I would have tasted it anyhow. The tots were not crisp as Adam had remembered them. They were okay at first, until they cooled and turned doughy. Tots need to be overcooked, crispy on the outside or else they take on the consistency of whatever chemical/biological/metaphysical binder they use to make a tot. The tea was uninspired, I hadn’t really expected any better.

Adam mentioned that his chicken was very thin and not really all that crispy. Angel’s burger was, as she put it ‘not great’. Her drink had, as Adam had predicted, too much ice, and she finished it before the food was gone.

The onion rings were hand-made, real onion rings, irregular, imperfect and cooked pretty well. The first few were fine but after a while a sickly sensation came through. The county-fair odor we had detected was in fact cooking oil well past its prime. You gotta’ flush that stuff out of the fryers once in a while or the taste/texture of the food goes off the rails.



Unsatisfying, poorly prepared, inferior components (meat/bread). It only cost us a couple of dimes over twenty two dollars, and it was fast, but there was simply no significant positives to the experience. Perhaps it was just THIS Sonic, or THIS night, since I can’t imagine a place with such lackluster quality staying in business very long. I suppose if you like to order from and then eat in your car, it’s one of the few options that allow you to park where you order, but I can’t see that as a significant draw. Many times I’ve done the drive-through at Hardees or BK and just parked in the lot and dined.

Honestly I hope this was just a bad night for them, since the menu is really not all that varied and complicated. Nothing was cooked right, the meats were small and lifeless, and the tots, the tots were a terrible disappointment. And that toast! How in the name of all that may or may not be holy do you screw up toast?

We were disappointed; the highest ranking remark was from Adam: “It was (pause) okay.”

We'll try to do better next week.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

#52 !!! Celebrate!

Welcome to the fifty-second issue of Eat and Critique! Yes fans, that’s right, we’ve published a blog per week, almost without exception, for an entire year.
First and foremost I’d like to thank all you fans, especially those that have shared or forwarded the link to others. Second I’d like to thank Angel and Adam, without whom there would be no comedy in these things. I mean that as a compliment.

How does one celebrate a year of restaurant reviews?
I gave this a lot of thought. We could go to a favorite place, Trattoria Giuseppe (TG) or Bandanas, or Kim’s Café, or we could find a new place to kick off a new year. By Saturday, I was still drawing a blank. Adam had planted the notion of pizza earlier in the week. Pretty easy I first thought, TG serves pizza. I looked them up on the interwebs and discovered that they only serve pizza two nights per week, both during the week. Disappointed!
Next I looked for pizza buffets. Nada.
The problem with pizza joints is that you go in and order a pizza or two, and you get pizza, not much for sides except for those that taste just like pizza. And if you order a pizza or two, all your taste buds get is a pizza or two. It's like getting a burger with a side order of burger. Some Pizza Huts have lunch buffets, but not any nearby.
By Saturday afternoon, I still had no idea. To make matters worse, I wasn’t feeling very well. Angel and Adam had travelled to Springfield during the week and brought back some wontons and eggrolls, and also a disease. Angel’s niece Witney has a flock of lovely babies, and was apparently the source of this disease. Severe congestion, body aches, swollen, raspy throat, and a complete zapping of energy. Angel succumbed on Thursday and as usual I tried with all my might to avoid contact with her. Somehow though I caught it as well and by Saturday afternoon I was reviewing my will. I napped, which only made me more tired. Thanks a bunch Witney.
By the time she got home from a dog event around three, Adam was just getting up from his nap and they inquired as to our evening’s plans.
“I don’t feel well.” I answered.
“Oh no, you’ve got it too?” She asked, pretending to be concerned.
“Much worse, ten times worse than your trivial little bout of sniffles.”
“I told you” Adam whispered to his mother.
“Told you what?” I delicately inquired.
“Adam said he hoped you didn’t catch this thing because you always exaggerate how bad it is and then lie around and whine about it.” She answered. Adam chuckled.
“So you don’t feel like going out?” She asked.
“I wouldn’t want to make a scene by dropping dead on you in a public place.”
“That’s very sweet of you, how about I just order a couple of pizzas?”
“Sweet!” Adam cheered.
“Sure, whatever, what a glorious last meal.” I whined.

The Place:
Pizza Hut, DeSoto MO.
Of all the pizzas, of all the places, Pizza Hut is our default. Located in DeSoto, just ten or fifteen minutes from the house, it looks and feels exactly like the billion other Pizza Huts in the world. PH is a part of the Louisville Ky. based ‘Yum! Brands’ which also owns KFC, Taco Bell, A&W and Long John Silver. In addition Yum! owns ‘Dong Fang Ji Bai’ in China, which serves, believe it or not, Chinese food.
As a mega-chain Pizza Hut is rather generic. Unlike local or regional pizza places, the recipes at PH are pretty tame and homogenized. PH is to pizza what Taco Bell is to Mexican food. Hardly 'authentic' of anything, it’s pretty good, and it’s consistent.
We’ve never dined inside this PH, we just call in our order and go pick it up. That way we can have sides as we please and eat at our own pace. Angel called in the predictable order, Adam mounted up and headed out to pick it up. Angel then left me alone to suffer while she tended to the dogs. I lay moaning and suffering, watching Mythbuster reruns until she was out of sight, then switched back to the Lingerie Football League game on MTV2. I was suffering, sure, but these ladies play full contact football in their underpants!

The Food:
We ordered two large pizzas, a thin crust with everything, and a hand-tossed with pepperoni and black olives. We have to order two because Angel and I like lots of toppings, Adam does not. We get the thin crust for ours since Angel does the ordering and doesn’t really care about my preference, which is hand-tossed. She also ordered some bread sticks which seemed redundant, and an order of hot wings. I don’t care for hot wings, anybody’s. I find hot wings to be a gastronomic abomination. It’s just a small boney piece of chicken slathered in hot sauce. There’s typically so much hot sauce that the food item holding it is actually irrelevant. It's a one note tune and that note is loud and shrill.
Our pizza order is lopsided. Angel and I are to share the thin-everything, Adam gets the thicker, blandly topped one. I usually compromise/cheat and have equal portions of each, Adam’s for the crust cravings and ours for the toppings.
This night, feeling as bad as I did, I held back. I just had one slice of each along with a redundant, yet satisfying bread stick.
I heard Angel heading back up the steps just as the game was ending and Adam pulled into the driveway. I switched back to Mythbusters just in case the post-game show played highlights. (I usually enjoy the highlights since it usually involves the players adjusting their equipment.)
Angel and Adam lapped up some hot wings and piled their plates with pizza, I chowed down on my measly portions and read a book. I had made tea, so that was excellent. What can I say, I like Pizza Hut pizza. I like other pizza as well, but PH is simple, good, and consistent. Nothing fancy, nothing wild, just simply predictable and good.

The price is reasonable, the food is quite good, but it lacks variety. The breadsticks were essentially pizza dough without sauce or toppings. If you order their pasta, you’ll notice that the red sauce tastes a LOT like their pizza sauce. PH is like Taco Bell in another way, it’s basically a fixed set of ingredients with various combinations of those same ingredients used to imitate a variety of selections.
I wasn’t very hungry so I didn’t eat much. By the end of dinner there was about half of each pizza leftover, perfect for a Sunday morning breakfast.

So that's how we celebrated a full year of Eat and Critique. Again, we appreciate your taking time to read and hopefully enjoy the effort, and we promise to keep digging, keep exploring. We'll keep eating out so you don't have to.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Jack in the Box

Festus MO

I’d never been to a Jack in the Box, ever. I haven’t been deliberately avoiding it, just a matter of not being near one when I was looking for a bite to eat. That and the fact that there are a lot of places that just do not have JITB’s; SW MO, Kentucky and Maryland specifically, the places where I’ve lived most of my stunningly handsome life. The Metro St. Louis area is crawling with them though.

The chain’s roots start in California in 1951. At that time there were many burger joints, most of them the car-hop type. Jack had a different idea. Rather than have people going in and out delivering orders to cars, they created an intercom system that you could drive right up to, shout your order into and then pull forward to a window and pick up your order… Yeah, JITB invented the drive-up burger window. Since the outdoor intercom was in a clown head, the kids just loved it . Rodney Allen Rippey became famous in the 70’s for his JITB commercials ("It's too big-a-eat!") and you know what that did for HIS career. (That pretty much was his career)

As a stunningly handsome youth I recall Johnny Carson making jokes about the place, but had no idea of what made JITB different from other places.

The first time I recall actually wanting to go there was fairly recent. It was a commercial with small-person cowboys on small horses herding ‘cows the size of schnauzers’ to advertise their ‘Mini Sirloin Burgers.’ I was hooked.

The Place:

Above the interstate in Festus, near everything else, including that disgusting Fazoli’s.

The place was very clean inside and a little more upscale than your typical injection-molded-plastic fast food joints. There were actual tables and chairs, many of them Bistro styled (tall ones). The counter was likewise clean and shiny. I read through the overhead menu, saw the mini-sirloin combo, and decided. I did notice that they offered quite a unique and diverse menu. Salads, all day breakfasts, teriyaki bowls, pastrami sandwiches, pita pockets, along with their more traditional burgers. We placed our orders and were handed big foam cups. We sat at one of the Bistro tables and discussed global economic conditions, climate change, unrest in Somalia, the floods in Pakistan, The STL Cardinals’ dismal season, and the general decline of societal values.

Actually I don’t recall what we discussed, if anything. I did look around and took note of the casual, subdued look and feel of the interior. The tables and chairs were almost classy, rust colored tops with black trim. The walls were a comfortable, but forgettable pastel shade. What was clear though was that they kept it all very clean.

The food:

I had ordered Combo #3, three mini sirloin burgers and seasoned curly fries. Angel, the #12 Chicken strips and seasoned curly fries, Adam #11, spicy chicken sandwich and seasoned curly fries. We all also ordered the same side, two tacos for ninety-nine cents. I’d heard a lot about their tacos, Angel, Adam, and even Tyler (Angel’s adult son in Springfield) have raved about them.

They have other kinds of fries, but that didn’t matter since they had seasoned curly fries. Seasoned and curly is how fries should be made, this is a rule. If you want fries the proper thing to do is to have them in the following order according to availability.

1. Seasoned curly fries

2. Curly fries

3. Crinkle fries

4. Standard fries

5. Shoestring fries

6. Someone else’s fries

7. Thick/Texas fries

8. Any style fries found under your car seat.

This is not debatable.

From the self-serve drink fountain Angel tested the lemonade while I searched around for tea. There was no tea. Angel seemed satisfied with the lemonade and filled her cup telling me that it was just a little tart, not too sweet. I poured a little myself, concurred with her assessment and filled it up. I only sometimes like lemonade, it has to be just right. This stuff was pretty close. Adam poured himself a tall Coke.

Our food was delivered within a few minutes, just as we entered a lively debate over Lindsay Lohan’s current rehab situation. (Actually I still don’t recall exactly what we talked about)

I tried one of the curly fries first, it was exceptional. Long and crunchy, and fresh. JITB makes their food to order, it doesn’t sit around under radioactive heat lamps getting all soft and radioactive-y.

The three burgers were each slightly bigger than a White Castle slider. (or ‘gas-powered diarrhea pill’ as it is also known) They were thicker and the buns were unexpectedly and pleasantly toasted. It sounds like a small thing but a toasted bun is about three and a half times better than a soft doughy one. I bit into one and my taste buds all shouted together as one, in unison, and at the same time ‘STEAK!’ Whereas other FF burgers have a not-always-unpleasant greasy taste this actually tasted like a pretty good steak, certainly more lean than a quarter pounder. It was pre-condiment-ized with just a little ketchup, cheese and onions. With the toasted bun I’d say it was definitely the better FF burger I’ve had lately. The patty was not wafer thin, it appeared hand pressed, irregular shaped, indicating made from fresh rather than factory pressed and frozen. I don’t know that for sure, but whatever they did, it seemed fresh.

Angel was satisfied with her chicken strips, but only so. “Not my favorite.” she said. She didn’t care much for the breading, citing DQ’s as being better. (She also said McD’s were better but I reminded her of my ‘No McDonald’s Comparisons Allowed’ policy. This policy is in place because McD’s is owned and operated by Satan. Who else could make fries that irresistible? Genesis would be more believable today if Eve was in fact tempted by a McDonald’s French fry rather than an apple. (An Apple? I mean Sheesh, who couldn’t pass up a mere apple even if it was from the ‘tree of knowledge of good and evil’?) Anyway, McDonalds is owned and operated by Satan and should be avoided altogether, just trust me on that.

Adam didn’t say much, but seemed to enjoy his sandwich thoroughly.

The Tacos:

Here’s where we diverge on opinion. I bit into my taco and was not impressed, at all. Angel and Adam plowed into theirs as if they were the best tacos this side of Iowa. The tacos looked kind of funny, thin, almost flat. They were crispy and the edges were kind of pinched together. The filling was Spartan; meat, shredded cheese and lettuce. By meat, I mean ‘meat’ in air-quotes. There was a rumor floating around on the interwebs that these tacos are in fact vegetarian friendly. They are not. The so-called ‘nutrition information’ clearly shows beef as the number one ingredient but also mentions soy protein. This concoction is sometimes referred to as meat-paste. Unlike loose ground beef, the meat-paste spreads like peanut butter and stays inside the shell better, like meat-spackle. Also included in the meat-paste ingredient was ‘spices’. This is where I had the problem. The crunchy shell was fine, the lettuce a little weak, the cheese, white and thick-shredded was nearly tasteless and the meat paste was, in my well reasoned opinion, too salty. I’m sure there were other spices since I looked it up, but all I got was salt and maybe a little chili powder. It wasn’t nasty, I just did not want any more. I gave my second one to Adam which he saved for later. Don’t scream at me, it’s simply a matter of taste though my opinion is of course superior and more stunningly attractive. (In order to keep the meat from falling out with home tacos, I use refried beans as a binder.)


The meal came in at just under twenty four dollars. Not too bad. We could have gotten similar meals at Burger King, DQ, or that unmentionable place for a little less, but they would not have been as unique and good. The housekeeping standards at JITB appears to be superior to all the others (on average) and the quality of the food (except for the meat-paste) is a little better. Tea would have been nice, it may be that I just couldn’t find it.

Later I noticed something was missing, that greasy queasy feeling my precious little tummy gets after eating at a fast food joint. Bonus!

I’d certainly recommend JITB, and will go back… It’s like a FF burger joint, but without the snotty-nosed screaming babies and the trash on the floor.