Waste of Buffalo?
Another second weekend in July has come and gone this year. I think I finally managed to figure something out. The Taste of Buffalo was made just for me. That used to mean samples of delicious meals from all over this great county and state of ours. However, what I’ve come to figure out is that it was made for me, but not in a complementary way. Between wandering around in the hot, hot sun with sweat pouring in my eyes and me trying to figure out the best way to get all I want at the cost of quite a bit of money to me looking so, so unhealthy as I wander around through crowds of complete strangers, doing my best to cut up food with cheap-ass silverware so I don’t choke on something and die, I realize that the Taste of Buffalo was made for me…to be absolutely humiliated.
As ever, I park my car in the reliable space of across from a church a few blocks away from Delaware. The walking tricks me into thinking I'm counteracting the massive eating I'm gonna do. I get to the Taste and hand over $60 cash for ten sheets of tickets.
As you can see, they filled the cup to the brim, thereby guaranteeing that a good portion of the dish will end up on the ground (spoiler warning: it did). This should’ve been an omen for the remainder of the day.
Hopefully, I would have a better experience with the Greek Chicken Pierogi from Babcia's Pierogi. I do. The dish is tasty with nicely balanced ingredients.
The problem arises in cutting the goddamn thing. They gave me a fork but not a knife, forcing me to tear at it with my teeth like a rabid dog with a steak. Common fucking courtesy, where art thou?
I'm still not sure how it happened or why, but despite being fairly underwhelmed by the dish last year, my legs wandered over to Avenue29 Foods' booth for Taco Nachos. There were jalapenos and peppers carelessly dripped onto the food I might have actually wanted to eat, but without even the courtesy of a fork to pick the offending toppings off. On top of that, the girl that served them to me was weirdly dismissive. I know where I'm never eating in this one-horse town.
I returned to Steaksters for their Steak and Cheese Log, but the blue cheese was gone, replaced with oil.
Needless to say, the oil saw the inside of a garbage container, but the log was as delightful as ever.
I mull over the Beef on Weck Barrel Roll from Barrel Factory Kitchen, but then I see it's basically a beef on weck reconfigured into an egg roll. In theory, it might be fun, but pair the saltiness of the sandwich with the greasiness of an egg roll and that's a big bag of no, thank you!
I've dined at Pierogi Pete's quite a bit over the last year, so naturally, I was ecstatic that they'd be taking their act on the road. The Loaded Tots (or Irish Nachos) were quite engaging, but then, I'm just a whore for Tater Tots.
The Loaded Pierogi Bowl was also an option, until I saw that they were topped with...banana peppers?! How dare you!
My meal plan originally contained the Breakfast Egg Roll from Resurgence Brewing Company, but that was cast out for the same reason as the Impossible Burger from Avenue29: "Yo, goober! Where's the meat?". Very disappointing.
However, next door to this den of deceit was Pizza Amore, which offered a slice of Chicken and Waffle Pizza. Hmmm. Never had that before. Worth a shot, right?
Well...the slice was good, but not as mind blowing as the concept led me to believe. The taste of maple syrup made for a nice culinary left turn, but overall, not something I'd recommend.
One of the local sponsors, Tops Markets, has their own tent, mainly offering people a chance at gift cards of varying amounts by spinning a wheel. However, the line is stupid long, but I figure, ‘where else do I have to be’? The heat begins to intensify. I get closer to the entrance. Ahead of me are two brothers (?) who start to haggle over how many spins they get as they only brought so much money. Meanwhile, I’m thinking, “It’s too fucking hot for this!”.
Finally, it's my turn. I give them three dollars, one per spin. I win a chance at a $100 gift card...as well as a tote bag and plastic pan scraper.
If that wasn't humiliating enough, the football toss booth from last year is set up again and - once more - I beef it. Maybe, if there weren't people sitting in the game area that I could potentially hit with the ball, I'd have had a chance. Why are old people?
After this, I need a good sit down and a soda, not in that order. A few minutes of decompression are just what I need before I resume my jaunt.
Of course, my mom is going to want something and so, I fall back on what I got her last year: Cajun Honey BBQ Wings from Just Pizza. I slip them in my bag before continuing (and I can only figure that she likes them; I haven’t heard any complaints yet).
I was hoping to save the Banana Pudding from Golden Hour Treats for last, but the exact reasoning why has already evaporated from my memory.
There was also a Banana Bread Pudding from BW's Barbecue that I intended to try, but their decision to put a caramel topping on it put paid to that plan.
My naughty little sweet tooth led me to grab a Reese's Cupcake from Not Just Cakes for potential dessert within the next few days...or tomorrow. It's around this time that I notice people carrying their meals in trays. I inquire a few people as to where I can get one, but my invisibility must've been acting up again, because no one wanted to give me an answer.
You'd think that this would be it for the day, but there's one item I trick myself into thinking I need to try: the Cheeto Shrimp Burrito from Lime House Sushi and Ramen. I move as best I can back to my car, drowning in sweat but thankful to be on my way home.
I have the burrito in intermittent bites. Maybe, sushi isn't my thing but the initially promising mixture of ingredients doesn't quite hit the spot. Not the worst item I've had at one of these things, but hardly worth the 12 tickets it bled out of me.
The following day, I might've been happy to stay home away from the trials and tribulations of simply enjoying a good meal, but there was a monstrous relative staying with us that weekend that I needed to be as far away from as humanly possible to preserve my sanity, so off I went.
Desperate for an item that would get rid of all of my tickets, I chose the 6-ticket Alu Tikki from New Jewel of India and, really, I need to stop eating here. All those toppings on potato patties and no flavor. No spice. They could've sold me a napkin and it probably would've been more appetizing.
One of the items I'd neglected yesterday - mainly because 12 tickets is too damn much - was within my grasp today. Emboldened by a fresh round of tickets, I trudge toward the Anchi a la Carte booth for Pork and Shrimp Bao Bun. The sweet sauce on top is an extra incentive to splurge. At this point, I am gaspingly desperate for one of those trays that I see people carrying around. I ask a few people, but they don't answer me or outright ignore me. 'City of Good Neighbors', my taint! Finally, someone points me in the direction of the First Student booth providing trays to relieve my suffering. It costs nothing to be a decent person and yet, some people (read: most people) will go out of their way to be assholes. (P.S. I had the bun for dinner that night and it was edible enough, but wow, was it ever underwhelming. What I saw inside the bun was not recognizable as pork or shrimp, making me wonder what kind of evil hypnotic spell was cast to get people to pay 12 tickets for it.)
One last item before I run away, tail between my legs. The Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookie from Fat Lady's Cakes and Pies (another 12 tickets down the tubes). It wasn't listed on the outside of the truck like the other items, so I assumed the worst, but it was just kept out of view. It felt a little hard when I grabbed onto it, but I guess some time in the sun (and time in a baggie) managed to be a good thing because it was soft by the time I ate it the next day.
The time in the sun was good for the cookie, but bad for me. Despite being outside for less time than I was yesterday, I was drenched in what felt like the exact same amount of sweat as yesterday.
Going forward, I think it would behoove me to set a limit on how much I spend on food if I deign to go back to the Taste. Save my bank account, save my weight, save my sanity.
Well, at least there’s the Erie County Fair next month. Between how some of the people are dressed and some of the stands selling ‘Let’s Go, Brandon’ merchandise, they humiliate themselves way worse than I could ever be humiliated, so there’s some solace in that.
Labels: food, Taste of Buffalo